#its so silly idk she does this with everyone. she only refers to my late grandfather as 'my dad jim'

[corvidaedream]

its so funny the way my aunt talks about family to me sometimes, like "oh i was up at my brother's place in new hampshire last weekend, and i was talking to my sister-in-law amy"

like shes telling a friend or a colleague who is unfamiliar w these people

like yeah?? my parents' house? i know them, im quite familiar with your sister-in-law.

[misstrashchan]

RWBY V8 CH12 Initial Thoughts:

Yes yes I'm late watching the new episode don't look at me. Also @tumblezwei thank you thank you for showing me how to put the read more bit on posts, I can finally put it to good use.

Figured I might as well do a reaction/initial thoughts to this episode since I haven't done that in a while, so here goes:

- Man Ironwood is just. Super overcompensating with his Gun-gun.

"You've done the right thing."

"I have. Feels weird"

-I'M SORRY THAT WAS THE BEST LINE OF THE EPISODE HANDS DOWN. Just. The sass. The growth. Kicking Ironwood in the face while cuffed (does she have experience doing that? Fighting while arrested? It kinda looked similar to Mercury's fighting style too.) EMERALD I LOVE YOU.

- Ngl I feel extremely satisfied that we can finally FINALLY put the "Winter is Totally Going To Be A Villain" theory to bed after this episode. Not that I didn't used to see the appeal of it myself, but v8 made it increasingly clear that wasn't where her arc was headed. Also Schneebling reunion on the horizon? Pretty please???

- *Sees Oscar riding on the Chimera summon with Winter*

*Remembers Oscar riding with Yang on the hoverbike in episode 2*

My Snowpines/Rosegarden shipping ass: Gee Oscar, how come you get TWO big sister-in-laws?

- Small thing but it's always nice to see team ALPN fighting together. I know a few Oscar fans were freaking out about Penny potentially replacing Oscar as their teammate, but like I thought that wasn't really something to worry about. *gently bonks Oscar fanbase* Sillies.

- I'm a little suprised given how Ironwood is the Big Bad of the Atlas arc how quickly he went down, without much dramatic flair or further esculation, but I am so glad Winter got that last awesome shot on him. (and that Oscar managed to get a few jabs in too) And like. He's still alive in jail. So who the hell knows what we're gonna do with him now. Take him to Vacuo along with Jaques apparently. I'm sure that'll go greeeeaaat.

- Ambrosius... after a quick google search the name apparently means "Divine" or "Immortal" in Greek. Hm. Unlike Jinn, not a specific reference to a mythical being, at least not in name, but I'm sure people are already theorizing on that front better than I could. Similar blue/gold design too. So maybe they're all Djinns in a sense, since they grant your desires, but split into four focusing on a specific kind of desire? That works. Anyways, super fun character and I hope they make more use of him. Like, because I wanna see more of his personality and also Oh my Gosh the Things You Can Do With His Powers are Basically Limitless as long as you're smart about it (hint hint get the CCT active around Remnant but Better)

- And gosh were our girls smart. Weiss working with Whitley to get the schematics and coordinates for the exact points of evacuation that they had originally planned out for their ships to create portals to the Vault/Central Zone (?) to Vacuo, Ruby puting in careful thought and wording about creating a copy of Penny with the existing robot parts from her to let the girl who was always there underneath remain and leaving the copy with the virus to self destruct, with Penny's designs for reference, they absolutely did their homework. Of course there was the risk of if Penny could exist without that physical form, but of course they all believed in her.

- Self destructing Not!Penny crawling towards the real Penny is super creepy and hopefully something she doesn't have nightmares about

- Of course the first thing Penny does when she realises she's a Real Girl is hug everyone so she can experience the joy of Real Normal Warm Hugs.

"Are hugs always this warm?"

"Yes, Penny"

"Woooow"

-MY HEART. No actually back up, back up, the Nuts and Dolts shipper in me is singing rn, because all the times Penny has been hugged by Ruby this volume and only now is she actually able to actually feel that hug. Like, the sentiment and emotional support of it was always there and obviously appreciated by her before, but like. Now she can FEEL it.

- I'm super happy for Penny and seeing her back to her cheerful adorable self is Delightful, but at the same time I'm now really worried for her too. She doesn't have to worry about the virus anymore, now she's a regular meat person, but here's the thing. She's a regular meat person. No more rocket boots. No more lasers. No more in built swords attached to her body with strings. No more resistance to harsher elements. No more night vision. Obviously she's still the Winter Maiden, so she's still a force to be reckoned with, and she has RWBY with her, but she's still a rookie maiden that is massively vulnerable right now. She's vulnerable in her new human form to anyone coming after her. And like. Things just feel like they're going too smoothly...

- Speaking of, hello hello my ominous darling Cinder. Just like last volume, when things seem to be going too smoothly, there you are. So Watts cut off Jaune's broadcast and all other communications in the kingdom, and I'm guessing Cinder's jumping in those portal spaces with Neo to come after Ruby and Penny? That along with the "Do Not Fall" warning seems... yeah something's gonna go terribly wrong by the end of this volume. Salem, Ironwood, Mantle, Penny... All these loose ends are just being dealt with so quickly and neatly for me to be fully comfortable.

- tfw you've read Before the Dawn and know that Vacuo was already struggling with refugees coming in since Atlas had closed its borders, Vale was overrun with Grimm, and Mistral had its defences spread thin already being the widest reaching kingdom, along with Leo, Hazel and Tyrian denting it even further in offing all the huntsman and huntresses, and Vacuo's people are already pretty stingy with outsiders, and if there are thousands coming from the kingdom that closed it's borders and ordered an dust embargo... oh boi the Vacuo arc is gonna be a doozy.

- I know it's probably too close to Atlas and therefore Salem, and we need a convenient way to segue into the Vacuo arc, but couldn't Argus have been an option for the portal evacuation? At least, as well as Vacuo?

- OH FUCK YEAH I FORGOT THEY MENTIONED THE WRITERS SAID V9 WAS GONNA BE A DETOUR AND WASN'T JUST GOING TO BE JUMPING STRAIGHT TO VACUO. So like. Are they gonna get lost in a void of time and space? Are they going to jump through time by accident? Or just in space? Both? If you fall do you just end up randomly in the middle of the desert, far from Vacuo? And v9 is just going to be RWBY trekking through the desert? Similar to v6 after the train crash? So many questions.

-Hmm. Torn between Cinder going after Penny/Ruby with Neo in the vault space, or potentially being confronted by ALPN+Emerald... JNR+Emerald seems more narratively fitting, but Neo seems deadset on her and Cinder killing to Ruby...

- I wonder if Qrow is gonna confront Ironwood while he's in jail... Role reversal of the start of the volume. Or maybe he's just going to consider it worth his time.

-Taking all the established Atlas characters right with us into the Vacuo arc seems like it's going to be... A Lot. At this point I wouldn't be surprised if team RWBY really did end up jumping in time in V9 to fast forward on the two city populations integrating with one another, like maybe by a few months? Idk I'm just spitballing. Initial thoughts and all.

- Last point but the hooded cowl is such a great look on Cinder. Love it.

[paywallpocky]

ykw i really wish all words were gender neutral like i wish i could call someone my wife and it did not give away my gender i wish there was no gender i know there is gender neutral terminology for most things but i really really wish people used them more commonly?? like if i refer to someone as my partner instead of wife i dont want people around me to do a double take idk even when they dont the word judt feels so heavy in my mouth but lately gendered terms have been annoying me more than ever, I started using gendered terms w no regards for rules when i was like 15ish bc it seemed more fun like calling myself king of the world even though I'm afab (I know its v silly and makes no difference but that is exactly my point!! It makes no difference does v little but that v little thing about disobeying felt good??) or using terms of endearment that are heavily gendered interchangeably and even compliments but these days words have started to feel so heavy in my mouth. I dont mind being a woman or mind she/her pronouns being used for me but i also dont mind any pronouns being used for me??? Like its absolutely ok whatever people want to call me bc ultimately i wish there were no pronouns at all?? Or just 1 pronoun common for all??? (Unless ofc people felt like that 1 pronoun didnt do them justice) but then again if one pronoun was used to refer to all and only used for strictly grammatical purposes then I dont think people would have as much problems but idk whom am I to say anything but yeah gender makes me more and more uncomfortable day by day i wish everyone could present themselves in a way that did not give away their gender immediately I know it's wrong of me to assume based on how people look and choose to present and I'm really trying hard!! (Tbh in my head people dont have a gender, this mindset has really made me so comfortable with so many things but I wish the whole world was like that

[writing-creativo]

The Other Amelia Littlebug

Note: This is a bit longer than ususal (2k) so idk if i should post things like this in parts or not but hEY i didn’t

“From: Océane Duval

23 Rue des Loups, Rouen

France

To: Amelia Littlebug

Berliner Straße, Frankfurt

Germany

 October 14th, 1947

 Dear Amy,

I hope this letter finds you well, wherever you are. I write it as an announcement.

I finally did as I promised the last time we spoke. I came back to Rouen.

But oh Bug, it is no longer the city we loved. It’s broken, injured by bullets and cannons and what didn’t crumble was left to burn. The right side of the cathedral was eaten by the flames, but they are now repairing it. Everyone is doing whatever they can to help, but perhaps we should help ourselves first.

But have no worries, your house still stands, as beautiful as ever, in the middle of the hills. From up here it’s as if I’m watching hell from above. I am not sure it was my wisest decision to come back here, but a promise is a promise. And Baptiste was so happy to see me! You should have seen his face, I had never seen him smile like that. I wouldn’t have known he was capable of such emotions.

I wish you were here too darling, it all feels empty without you.

Yours always,

Océane”

 Amelia Littlebug read the letter twice. And then twice again. The wrinkly paper, yellowed by time, sat on the kitchen table, side by side with a bunch of bills invoices.

How could it be that someone was writing directly to her, from the year 1947? Was it lost mail? Did someone find a letter directed to somebody with an equally amusing name, and decided to pull a prank?

They were all logical questions and equally reasonable responses to the situation, but none of them crossed Amelia’s head. It was not the type of thing that would ever cross Amelia’s head, particularly known for illogical and equally unreasonable thoughts. However, she was deeply fascinated by who this Océane was. Why she went back. What promises she made. Was she helping rebuild the city as well? Was Baptiste a family member? The gardener, perhaps? Or the housekeeper?

She didn’t recognize anything in the letter besides her own name and address. Except that it wasn’t her name, it was yet another Amelia Littlebug, blessed with the same showstopper title.

It was clearly French though. From the ocean sounding names, to the location, and references to the war. Two mysteries solved.

The letter was illogically and unreasonably put up on the wall, as if on display, so that lovely Amelia could look at it every day.

To be fair, she didn’t have many friends to text or message her. But she now had Océane sending her a whole letter. Perhaps not sent to her, she was aware, but it was sent to her address, so she was entitled to call herself Amy Bug.

“From: Océane Duval

23 Rue des Loups, Rouen

France

To: Amelia Littlebug

Berliner Straße, Frankfurt

Germany

 November 1st, 1947

 Dear Amy,

I am not sure of what to say or what to tell you. You know I’m not the greatest with words, you have always been far better than me.

All we want is some sense of normality, a piece of our old lives. But it doesn’t seem like we will have back it any time soon.

I’m working as an accountant again, but I haven’t been charging, it wouldn’t feel right to. It feels good to be busy again but going into town is far from pleasant. Coming back home at the end of the day could be a relief, but Baptiste has been having nightmares. He cries and shouts in bed, so neither of us have been getting a lot of sleep.

I’m so tired Bug. And I miss you, still. I will always miss you.

Yours always,

Océane.”

 71 years later, a second letter sat once again on Amelia Littlebug’s table. This time, it left her disturbed. But many things left Amelia Littlebug disturbed. Shadows: long nights, loud noises, the wind blowing outside... However, it was perhaps logical for her to be distressed this time around.

She spent the whole day thinking about it. Unable to read and reread it again, like she had previously done with the first correspondence. Had Amy answered the other letter? If so, why wasn’t she receiving it too?

It wouldn’t have been the first time that Amelia Littlebug googled her own name, but this time she had a reasonable motive to do so. But no results mentioning 1947, or Ruen, or Océane Duval. Nothing that resembled anything mentioned in the letters.

The letter was hanged bellow its predecessor. Amelia sat and stared at them a lot, not reading, just staring. Was it just her imagination again? Was she seeing things, hearing things? Had she started reading things now? The thought made her laugh a little. The voices had done a lot to her, but they had never kept her company. But deep down, she was enjoying receiving messages from the past. What if is she really was Amy Bug? What if the letters were properly addressed and Océane was writing to her, with seven decades of delay? Could she see and hear things too? Where was she now? was she still alive?

 “From: Océane Duval

23 Rue des Loups, Rouen

France

To: Amelia Littlebug

Berliner Straße, Frankfurt

Germany

 November 10th, 1947

 Dear Amy,

As you may know, today is my birthday. I am offended you didn’t even get me a card!

Baptiste bought me chocolate cake and a bracelet, which I know was expensive, but he won’t admit it. I don’t like it when he does these things. I know he enjoys my company, but I have been enjoying my loneliness more lately.

Things are moving slowly at work, but I already have more costumers. Some of them even remember me from before! They sometimes ask about you as well, but I don’t quite know what to tell them. What do I tell them, Amy?

Yours always,

Océane”

 Océane seemed bitter and angry. Was it because of her birthday? And what about Amy, where was she, after all? Does Océane not know it either?

It was the third letter Amelia had received. It was hanged above the first one.

She started questioning her own reason now. She promised herself she would never do that, but there she was. Were the letters even real at all? She tried clearing everything up by taking them to the post office but half way there she realised they had no stamp. They couldn’t have been delivered by regular mail.

What if it was someone mocking her? What if this was what they wanted her to think? What did they want her to do? Reasonable questions were starting to pop up in her mind. But she had never been very reasonable.

She had crossed miles and countries, so that there was no one to mock or prank her. She had left everything and ran away so she could be herself by herself. No one talking about the silly things she said or pocking fun of the things she talked about. They had ever believed her. They wouldn’t believe her now. But they weren’t here now. So who would pull a prank on a girl nobody knew?

“From: Océane Duval

23 Rue des Loups, Rouen

France

To: Amelia Littlebug

Berliner Straße, Frankfurt

Germany

 December 25th, 1947

 Dear Amy,

I write to wish you a Merry Christmas, surrounded by the best people and things.

I didn’t want to celebrate Christmas this year, I wasn’t quite sure what there was to celebrate, but Baptiste was very much against it. He put up all the lights and decorations by himself while I was at work. I barely knew which house was ours when I arrived.

I had forgotten how much Baptiste used to love this time of the year but, to be quite honest, his joy is contagious. He keeps telling stories of all the Christmases we spent together and all the pranks he used to pull on us (As if we were ever bothered!) but then he stops and cries. He just cries. I know he can’t help it, but he is such a crier now, Bug. I miss it when he was always grumpy and angry at us.

I know I haven’t written you in a while, but I think it’s better when I don’t. So don’t just sit around and wait for my letters, alright?

Yours always,

Océane”

 It was all clear now. Baptiste, Océane and Amy were family. Or perhaps family friends. He isn’t the gardener, the house is probably his too! But why did Océane stop writing? Why wont she write anymore? She seems angrier and angrier by the letter.

And now Amelia had no more space on her wall to put it up. She left it in a drawer instead, but it didn’t leave her thought.

Who would deliver mail on Christmas day? Who would be home, alone and ready to receive it? She was. But neither made sense. Nothing made sense.

So if nothing made sense anymore, Amelia Littlebug decided to do a senseless thing. She drove herself to France, Rue des Loupes in Rouen.

On that same morning she grabbed the letters, packed some food and water, and drove 6 long hours to Paris, and 2 hours more to Rouen. It was insane, of course it was. But it wouldn’t be the first time Amelia was called insane. Not even by herself.

As she arrived, she saw the towers of the churches standout in the middle of the trees. One of them was the cathedral Océane had mentioned, probably completely rebuilt by now. She had pictured a war thorn town, completely alienated from 21st century, forgetting her own reality.

Only when she realised that she was all alone in a country she didn’t know, in a city she never visited, not knowing how to say a full sentence in French, did she understand the absurdness of her insanity. It was self-sabotage, as it had always been.

She stopped, parked her car, and took a deep breath. The world wasn’t that big after all, was it? I mean, she was receiving letters from 1947 Rouen.

Amelia walked out into the street and then into a small coffee shop. She sat in the back, listening, for quite some time.

-Do you speak English? German? - She asked the cashier.

-Little bit, yes! – The old man laughed and she smiled in return, while handing him a paper.

-I’m looking for that address, do you know where it is? I didn’t bring my phone with me, or I would have… – It was a sudden realisation. Illogical. Unreasonable.

Luckily, the man did know where it was. And he carefully explained it to her, so well that it was no effort driving there. It was as if someone else had their hands on the wheel. As if a voice was telling her where to go, which turn to take.

After about 10 minutes of driving, she stopped at an old house. At an old street, to be precise. It didn’t seem like anyone was there, nobody lived there.

The number 6 looked beautiful in style and architecture. Or she imagined it would have once looked, because now the windows were broken, covered in concrete. The front door was ripped apart, barely standing.

It was not where she imagined her prankster pen pal would live. Where anyone would live. But she took the liberty to walk inside. And it didn’t take much effort to get rid of the last stripes of wood blocking the way in.

The house was empty, but Amelia had never felt so full, so whole. And she heard it so clearly now, the voice. She told her to leave, please, to walk away. And if Amelia Littlebug had ever been good at something, it was at doing what she was told.

So she walked out. Staring at the old building again. It all felt pointless. The letters, coming here… All to be told to leave. But she didn’t get in the car right away. She could hear them, the other ones.

She walked down the street, into an old rusty gate. It was a cemetery. Amelia got in, without the fear or reluctance a logical and reasonable person would feel. She felt herself being guided. She knew where she was going even though she couldn’t tell you if you asked. And then she stopped.

She sat down next to a grave, her eyes watering a bit. Her fingers touched the engraved letters on stone.

“Amelia Littlebug

1926-1945

Victime des bombardements de ‘44”

No French skills were needed to know what that meant. Amelia got up. The living Amelia.

And she walked a bit further. Now she understood. It was simpler than she had made it out to be, it always is.

“Océane Duval

1925-1947”

  “From: Amelia Littlebug

Berliner Straße, Frankfurt

Germany

To: Océane Duval

23 Rue des Loups, Rouen

France

  December 27th, 2018

 Dear Océane,

I hope this letter finds you well, wherever you are.

I write to tell you that I appreciated your letters, very much. And that I have delivered them safely. I left them to her with a couple of flowers (she mentioned she liked sunflowers) and I know she’ll find them so don’t worry about it. I know how much you loved and cared about her, she told me that too.

However, I beg you to please stop corresponding with me. I am Amelia Claire Littlebug from London, now living in Frankfurt, not your Amy Bug.

Yours Sincerely,

The Other Amelia Littlebug”

[tianamulan]

hey so it’s pride month and idk i’m in a pretty inbetweeny place rn in regards to my identity and idk i want to write about it to process it a little for myself also celebrate cuz it’s pride!! and i’ve made a lot of personal progress in regards to my pride in my sexuality. i’ve been “coming out” to a lot of people and that does genuinely make me happy!!! and so i’m sharing this both as a kind of act of pride in my somewhat blurry (but beautiful!!) identity; and in the hopes that maybe someone will see this and resonate, or just for someone to learn about one of many ways unique ways that people can experience love in its many forms! i’m just sharing about how and who i love, which i can say i am proud of. happy pride everyone 🌈

so i mostly identify as bi and ace! 

i’ve known i was ace since i was 16, and it was rocky at first because, hey, i was still a dumb teen and maybe i was a late bloomer or i had a libido problem or whatever! but yh, no, it’s been 5 years (which is wild to me). i’m pretty solid and confident in that description of my current experience of sexual attraction (or lack there of). but also, i’m very very much closeted for that descriptor in my day to day life. i think i’ve come out as asexual to maybe 6 current friends. (technically there were also high school friends who followed my tumblr who read my posts about being ace and ummmmm did not go well and i’m no longer friends with them so!! doesn’t count!!). and all of these were more “formal” coming outs. not in terms of like, i sat them down and wanted specifically to come out to them, but i would be having a conversation leading in a direction where i would have to do a lot of manoeuvring if i didn’t want to come out, and i like these friends and felt like they wouldn’t judge me for it; so i would then explicitly say i was asexual and explain if needed. and even once it was a friend coming out to me as recently thinking she was ace and i was very happy to share that i was ace and share my experience with it. 

but yh! idk, i’ll be real and say that yh, i do experience some shame and some apprehension of reactions from others about my asexuality, so those are factors in me being “closeted”; but also i very much feel like it’s not.... a lot of people’s business?? like, it IS a pretty sizeable part of who i feel i am, it does describe how i experience my day-to-day life, and i enjoy having occasional conversation about it! so some people need to know but like... casual acquaintances? coworkers? family? it’s not important to our relationship if they know whether or not i experience sexual attraction or my sexual activities. so i don’t need or want to come out to them and rarely feel like i’m hiding anything. 

//

and then in terms of being bi.. it’s kind of a recent thing, like 2ish years since i’ve really used that word to describe myself... but also in hindsight i knew that i was attracted to people other than men since around 15.... and in even bigger hindsight i can recognise that i DEFO had crushes on women since like age 11, including multiple young brunette teachers. no baby zoé, you don’t just think they’re really neat..... u have crushes on them. but yh it’s kinda hard when you are raised with compulsory heterosexuality AND you don’t have sexual attraction/interest/fantasies or whatever to give you a clue...... 

but also...... idk i feel like i was very very much in a lot of denial. like, i only drew and liked art of women..... and yh lets be real i also stared a lot at my girl crushes that i thought was just admiration. 

also between the ages of 16 and 19 when i knew that i was ace but still thought i was het... i still acknowledged to myself that i had mini-crushes on quite a lot of women?? like i would be convinced i was still just romantically attracted to men, though somewhat open; but simultaneously i would look at some women in my classes or at work and in my head think “oh, that’s the girl i have a crush on; oh she’s so pretty i would love to hang out with her and maybe kiss her” and like.......???? i still thought that was straight??? idk man that’s quite a few layers of denial there. or just being super fucking dumb lmao.

anyways i really love women; and this past like.... 4-5 months..... i’m starting to think..... maybe i’m exclusively attracted to women and nb’s?? maybe it’s just that there are so few men in my life in general, and like.... zero that i would want to date..... but also..... idk men are really beautiful sometimes and masculinity can be very very attractive... like i feel physical attraction to men.... but i have so few plantonic relationships to men that it’s hard right now for me to imagine actual romantic relationships with a man. 

in the 2 years that i have described myself as bi i am picturing myself much more in romantic relationships with women... and recently almost exclusively women. and idk... i feel like this is a semi-common thing from wlw where you can’t tell whether you’re experiencing internal biphobia or experiencing too much compulsive heterosexuality that you’re only performing feeling attracted to men. and i genuinely don’t know. and i feel like my general lack of sexual attraction/interest makes it more difficult lmao. 

but at this moment in my life, i describe myself are bi with a preference for women, and i picture my future romantic relationships to be mostly with women and other genders that aren’t like.... just man.... idk.. i’m very open to being wrong but right now it’s what feels comfortable. maybe in a few years i’ll identify as a lesbian, or i would be more certain of my romantic interest in men. who knows? my wlw ass certainly don’t know.

//

also!!! new revelation this year but i’m pretty comfortable in describing myself as non-monogamous. and idk i’m starting to feel a bit silly at this point cuz like....... i’m talking about all of this but i also have never been in a proper romantic relationship past the 3rd/4th date, so it’s all a bit theoretical; but idk, i accept that it’s all rn just conceptual, i could be wrong! but i feel comfort in describing myself and what i want from future theoretical romantic relationships! and at this point in my life, i don’t necessarily picture myself being in long term monogamous and exclusive relationships. i completely see myself in shorter-term relationships with just one person at a time; but i can’t really imagine myself living my life with just one long term romantic relationship. 

maybe i will meet “the right person”; maybe i’d be too jealous and insecure to “share” someone i’m in a relationship; i genuinely don’t know. i admit that. but i also genuinely don’t know if i could be happy and fulfilled and comfortable in a long term monogamous relationship. even from the point of view of being in a romantic relationship with someone who was not ace - i can see myself being happy with them having sexual partners outside of our relationship. but again!! who knows!! but yh, i’ll say that i am theoretically polyamorous. 

//

and yh just in term of gender, i don’t have too much to say, i’m happy with just being a woman. i am afab, i’m fine with people using the word cis to describe me, i definitely don’t consider myself to be trans at all, but also like.... idk gender kinda weird like it’s both important but it’s also made up and somewhat arbitrary and i dunno. i’d say i’m equally comfortable with the pronouns she/her and they/them; but obviously with the world we live in i am almost exclusively referred to as a woman. but idk, i do feel some kinship to non-binary identities and gender non-conformity. i feel a kinship to women, i am seen as a woman, i experience the world as a woman; but i don’t know if i feel like i need to describe or identify myself as inherently a woman. like one example is my clothes are generally seen as women’s clothes, but to me their just clothes i like. i occasionally wear “men’s clothes” but like.... their my clothes..... and i feel good in them.... idk. tbh it really doesn’t matter to me too much at this point in my life.

also there’s a whole other can of worms in that i very much do not have a good personal relationship with having a vagina/uterus (and mixed feelings about my boobs).... but i don’t really want to get too much into that and also i feel like it is equally about my mental health and my asexuality, and not just about my gender. but lets just say that if it was possible without any problem to just... have a hole there to pee... and nothing else.... i would be 100% fine with that... i really don’t need anything else and i don’t like that there are other things and functions there. but yh. can of worms there.

//

ANYWAYS i am defo over sharing and i don’t even know if anyone is reading beyond this point BUT IF YOU ARE.... i hope that maybe this helped you in any way, either to understand stuff about yourself or just to celebrate how many different ways people experience their lives and how many different ways there are to love people!!! 

i am spending pride (and hopefully just my day to day life) being happy in who i am, who i love, being open to future love, and sharing the love with others - romantic or otherwise. and i hope you are too. happy pride 🌈

[chefskissbby]

Learning/Growing

Hello again to whoever (might be no one, for all I know. HAHAHA) may be reading this!!! Wow, finally the torturous semester has ended and we actually have time to breathe!!!!! Year 1 of MCM was… an adventure? A learning experience, for sure (I mean obviously, we’re here to obtain an EDUCATION). I realised many things. To quote @kingkyliejenner (a few years late, but…),

I learnt so much, not just in the academic context, but about myself as well. The point of this post is about one of the many things I realised over the course of the past year.

With reference to the infamous quote by dear Kylie — I, too, like many others, thought this a vapid and dumb statement made by an equally asinine airhead (which I now know she isn’t, because the woman obviously knows how to capitalise on her fame and family name — case in point, Kylie Cosmetics). Surprisingly, this ostensibly silly quote that brought about a myriad of memes, was what I found myself thinking of throughout 2017, whenever I would “realise” something. Maybe I’m more of a bimbo than I thought, for having this sentiment, but really — this “realising things” quote speaks nothing but the truth and one I found so relatable and undeserving of the ridicule it actually received.

And the thing I realised is: I care too much of others’ opinions of me. To be more specific, whether their opinions are positive or negative. But because there are so many aspects of myself in which I care about others’ perception of me, I shall focus on one of the most important (to me, at least. You’re probably going to laugh when you read on… like, where are my priorities, right?) one — my looks. Or rather, how I appear, on Instagram. As of now — or since whenever I started using Instagram, leading up to present time — I’ve only posted pictures in which I looked good (or decent, at least). For birthday dedications (when I do post one), I’d rather just post a picture of my friend if I don’t look good in our picture together, because I believe that posting a picture for him/her in which I look good and they don’t is quite mean and dumb since it’s their birthday. (Although I think “bday dedis” are stupid in general. It is a dumb social obligation that is in no way indicative of one’s relationship with the birthday girl/boy, if they do/don’t post a “dedi” for him/her hahaha) But I digress.

Many a time, I decided against posting photographs from an occasion or event that I really enjoyed and wanted to commemorate on social media because, um. Some moments you don’t want to just immortalise in photographs, but also on social media? IDK LOL. But I didn’t do up a post, because… well, just because I didn’t look good in the pictures. And it was Instagram. Where, societal norms have stealthily ingrained in our young, impressionable minds that we have to look good all the time. And us, naive, self-conscious fools (not that it’s stupid to have insecurities), having internalised this unspoken rule, abided by it faithfully. Or at least I did. Case in point, as aforementioned, earlier in the paragraph.

It’s not just the pressure of looking your best all the time, though. It’s also all the comments of appraisal one would receive whenever he or she posts pictures in which they look fabulous. Don’t get me wrong though, such comments are absolutely pleasant and welcome. (And I’ve been on the receiving end of many, which I am very much flattered by and thankful for!!!!! Y’all are kind people <3)

Why is that??? :-/ Up until my most recent post, I found the alternative — putting up pictures in which one did not look their absolute best — unthinkable. Before posting that, I sent it to my best friend (as I’ve always done), for advice/approval (yes, as dumb as that sounds. I mean, idk. Is it??? I don’t think I’m the only one who does this right….). She wasn’t really keen on how my face looked.. and I agreed. But I went on to post it anyway, because I really liked how my hair and legs looked in it. LOLOLOL. 

Also, said friend — whose identity is fairly obvious to those who know me well but shall remain anonymous anyway (as will all my friends who may or may not be mentioned in future posts because who knows what will happen to this blog? Whether it will take off or flop… it will remain on the Internet forever regardless and everyone knows the Internet, even with all its boons, is a scary place nonetheless. So) — is one of my biggest supporters ever and I love her so much but I really liked that picture so much I went on to ignore her advice which I’ve previously, steadfastly taken and followed, and posted it hahaha. All this while.. I dared not post any picture that she didn’t really think was nice because like I said, she’s my best friend and one of my biggest supporters ever. If even she doesn’t like it.. needless to say, neither will my followers, right? 

It was then, that I got an epiphany. Perhaps a really superficial one, to most of you. But to someone who really cares how she comes off to others (sad, but true), it was a life-changing one. HAHAHA. And it was that I should just post whatever I want, since it’s MY Instagram. Although that’s not to say I’ll start posting nonsense like selfies of me on the throne, or a blurry picture that I took just so I could rant about the rude stranger I bumped into IRL (as I am wont to do, on my other account). But just that I’ll start posting pictures of occasions/people worth commemorating/immortalising on social media. Hopefully, I’ll get better at this aspect of my life (caring what others think) (not that it’s BAD, per se, especially when it comes to stuff like academic matters because it’s always good to receive constructive criticism!!! From educators and peers and whatnot) with age, as with other things!!!

So… yeah. That’s my great big enlightenment. HAHAHAHA. OK lah not really, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about for a while now. Take it as you will!!! This post is by no means a PSA/preaching/my telling you what to think or do. It’s really my reflecting on how I’ve been dumb when it comes to my social media presence, and how I want to improve as an individual!!!!

Till the next time~~