#ive tried so many different things to no avail

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

what do you MEAN the audio plugin doesn't work

[is-this-yuri]

homelessness can happen for a lot of different reasons. the lack of affordable housing is said to be the main one. no matter how hard people work, many are always at risk of being unable to afford rent.

for me, that's a huge part of it, but there's also the mental health aspect of it. i've had just about every entry level job available. i've had jobs that allowed me to pay rent, though just barely. ive worked really, really hard. and unfortunately, for me, no amount of transitional housing is going to help if i'm always miserable working. no amount of job coaching is going to make it bearable for me. and historically, the mental health treatments ive tried (which are so, so many) just haven't worked.

it seems like the goal has always been to 'get on your feet' i.e. get a job and an apartment. the fact that a shocking amount of homeless people are working (including myself at some points) and even working multiple jobs and still haven't 'gotten on their feet' should say a lot. the fact that even people who have never been homeless are closer to homelessness than to owning a house should say a lot. the fact that a percentage of homeless people actually choose to be homeless should say a LOT. it tells me that the goal has shifted. what i was raised to want is now an impossible task.

it sucks because i know half the jobs ive had would have been easy for me if it was actually worth it. if the hours were less, the pay actually let me afford things beyond the bare minimum, and the working conditions were better. therapy and medication would probably work wonders if my disatisfaction with life wasnt completely rational. but it's all fucked, and we all know it.

it's taboo to say it, especially as a homeless person, but i don't want to work. i don't want an apartment. i don't want to own a house. maybe my views will change if things ever get better, but at this point, i don't want to engage with this flawed system at all anymore. i hate that my value is contigent on how well i can slot into the capitalist machine. i know i have value much more important than that, and i'd prefer to earn my place on this earth through my actual strengths. i want life, my connections with other people, and the work i do to have meaning and significance. until the world makes space for that, i'm more than happy taking a government check and living in a van with a cat so i can make art and stream and watch the sunset every night. that's my goal now

[fipindustries]

I like making ai images but one thing that frustrates me the most is it almost always wants to make the same button nose, often even if you try to prompt against it. Nothing wrong with that facial feature but it's not always what I'm thinking of.

OH GOD TELL ME ABOUT IT

ive tried so hard, i gave so many different prompts for "girl with interesting face" "unconventionally attractive woman" "woman with distinctive nose" "lady with sculptural nose" etc, to no avail. most images that people u´pload of women online are of conventionally attractive women

[seeminglydark]

How did Caro go about figuring out their gender identity when they were on their own? You mentioned that they tried "they" and "he" pronouns before settling on "they" - can you talk about that more?

Sure can! In case theres some reading this who may not have read my comics or know the background but stumbled on my art on accident, ill give a little breakdown of their journey. Caro grew up in a really small town with really restrictive parents. They start out knowing they are not a girl. but not really having any idea what that means exactly, and not having access to the resources or a safe place to find out. They start out using he/him because at the time (16 in most of the stories i show them in their teenage years) they arent actually aware theres more of a spectrum than just a binary, they think being a boy is the only way to not be a girl. Their friend, Sully, while being openly gay and having a bit more of an idea about some things, doesnt know much about gender expression or gender-queerness either, so he does what he can to support what they both think is the right fit. apparently neither if them thinks to go to a library. After sully leaves, Caro is left to struggle on their own. They know they are trans, but they are still nervous about exploring things without someone holding their hand, ptsd from extremely intense helicopter parents perhaps and being kicked out for knowing at the very least, they arent the girl everyone always forced them into. They meet their current agent, Goldie, somewhere around 20 years old, at this point they have not revealed their face or gender even in their podcast (for those who listen, ive kept those things very vague since its supposed to be canonical with their life journey). Goldie encourages them to explore more what feels right to them and helps them get in touch with gender affirming resources, 'He' felt close, but it was never really that aha yes its me! moment. They learn about nonbinary, genderfluid, etc through research and help from other people in the community they meet through Goldie, therapy resources and also people they meet via their podcast. They actually do try out a few things, canonically they go from she to he to genderfluid (any pronoun) to they, which feels the best for them. present day Caro doesnt mind 'he' either, they just mostly stick with They. i WILL be exploring this in the podcast, so that story will be told in more detail as time goes on as well. Bonus answer: the reason why i wrote their journey like this, is because Caro is how i explored MY gender identity. They started out as a tool i used to try on different hats and research in a safe space (a fictional character), meet and talk with people to find what gender expression worked best for me, also going from she to he to fluid (any) to nonbinary (they.) i did not have restrictive parents or come from a small town, but im in my 40s, and there wasnt a lot of resource available where i grew up for trans kids in the 90s. i knew i wasnt a girl, and for me, boy seemed like my only other option until i learned that gender is not a binary and i actually had many ways i could go, until i found what felt right to me. and honestly, it was as simple as someone calling me 'They' in passing because they werent sure how to refer to me. Hit me like a ton of bricks. I was in my mid thirties and frankly, it was so relieving to finally have a pronoun that felt like ME! I think perhaps it was as simple for Caro as well. Unforch I cant give you a solid answer as to WHY they felt right for me or Caro. i just know it did, i think perhaps that an individual feeling for everyone who is figuring things out. Some people just KNOW, and others like me, know *something* and find out what the means for them along the way. <3

[definitelynotshouting]

Okay, so, question I've had for a while but never got around to asking, what the FUCK is up with Grian's wings?

If all physical differences in players (like those particularly ascribed to 'Hybrids' in mcyt fanon) in Hunger AU are a result of conscious altering of your own code for the express purpose of achieving YOUR IDEAL BODY(tm) then what does that mean for Grian and his wings? No one seems to regard Grian's wings as "What The Fuck, You Can DO That?!?" so presumably wings aren't so big of a change from normal biology that players can't do that. If so, why is it not more common? Man, if I could have wings I'd jump on that in seconds. Especially with the sheer utility the ability to fucking FLY gives players. Are wings (and maybe other larger alterations) just like, REALLY HARD to code in? If so, that might add a really cool layer of "Oh wow! They must be a really good coder!" to players who meet people like that.

On a related note, Grian seems to have a positive regard for his wings, which is interesting because I would be willing to bet he didn't have that before *insert sounds of worm-bursting and non-consensual body modification*. I imagine seeing his wings would likely feel like a reminder of the Watchers and what they did to him. BUT, Watchers manipulate their own code when they change like Grian did to, y'know, not be a worm anymore so Grian probably specifically chose how he looked, right? So, unless he did so really rushed and somehow made a mistake while doing so (which he might not be able to risk the structural damage of correcting), keeping the wings was a conscious decision. Does Grian just not associate his wings with the Watchers or is it something else? Does he just really enjoy having wings?

HELLO I AM SO GLAD YOU'VE ASKED THIS BECAUSE I HAVE ‼️‼️‼️‼️ MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT IT ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

Okay okay so these are all SUCH valid questions, lemme go through them one by one. Wings are indeed something anyone could have if they wanted to code them in-- and in fact, i do believe many other Players have wings throughout the universe!!! As far as body mods go, i like to think of them as decently popular, so its definitely not anything too weird to see. In chapter 5, i even make a mention to Pearl having moth wings she occasionally codes in due to preference!!! So wings of many different types are definitely available-- but the catch is that they're real fiddly to code. You cant just give yourself wings, you have to code in the bone structure, the muscles, the tendons, etc etc, and then you have to change your entire body structure as well to work with and fully support them. They can be awkward and unwieldy, as ive tried to show in the fic itself, and i think that alone can be a big discouragement for Players considering coding in wings, along with the sheer coding effort needed to obtain them and make them functional

And the thing is, elytra already exist-- they're far more compact, they dont take up as much space, you can take them on and off super easily without having to mess with your coding, and they basically do the same thing. Sure, its a pain to get one, but a lot of Players really enjoy the sense of accomplishment, and i think theres a bit of cultural prestige too in that regard. Server milestones are a huge thing in Player culture, and getting your first pair of elytra is a big one!!! So it makes sense to me that people who just dont want to go through the effort of coding in wings (which can then in turn complicate how they code other future modifications) primarily stick to elytra.

And everybody is different-- some people prefer attributes that arent wings. I like to think everyone in hermitcraft generally is a mix of "jeez thats effort, i could be building my base instead of doing that" and "eh im fine how i am, i like it" and "well we have elytra shops everywhere so why bother".

So in short, yeah!! Wings are a bit complex to code in. They're still pretty popular, i think plenty of Players do choose to incorporate them, but it takes a lot of hard and thorough work to make sure they function right and wont bug you out when you use them. There are billions of Players scattered across the universe, so what you're seeing in the fic right now is truly just a drop in the ocean when it comes to Player body diversity :] and then, elytra basically already help Players achieve a form of flight without the hassle of recoding their entire body structure, so i think the majority of Players just prefer to use them instead.

AS FOR GRIAN'S WINGS IN PARTICULAR......

Well..... its complicated. Particularly his feelings about them-- in the fic, i referenced them as the only good thing the Watchers ever gave him, and thats how he sees it, i think: a thin silver lining. He's had many, many years to get used to them, and i think he goes through periods where he hates them and the memories attached, too. Ultimately, he's kinda stuck with them, so i think he hit a form of acceptance (as bitter-tinged as it may be) out of sheer necessity for his own sanity.

As for why he has them, and hasnt coded them out: i think of it as a particular quirk of biology/structural coding. Watchers have a more instinctive way of coding than Players, but a Player-minded Watcher is still going to think like a Player, and thats going to muddle things a lot. Grian essentially had to relearn how to code, in a way that satisfied both Player and Watcher-style coding, and the results at first were.... a little rough around the edges. Once he managed to finally take on his original former appearance, the wings from his true form just kind of.... stuck. I like to think it took a few increasingly desperate tries before he realized he just could not figure out how to get rid of them (bc of how different his new code was), and had to accept that this was just how he was gonna have to live for a while until he finally figured it out. And then, well.... you can get used to anything, if you're stuck with it long enough. I think after a while it just stopped being a huge priority, and then he reached a point where it would be more awkward to live without them than with them, and he eventually dropped the idea altogether. And i think sometimes, they function almost like a scar, to him-- a reminder of what he went through, yes, but a reminder that he did manage to escape. And, ofc, he also just really, really likes flying skdjskdjdj

So yeah, loads of complicated feelings there about his wings, and its stuff i do plan on exploring later in the fic!!! This got a little rambly, but i hope this makes sense and answers your questions!!!! :D its a fun little complicated knot that im glad someone has gotten curious enough to ask about!!!!

[lionlena]

We don’t love each other (PedroPascalxreader) angst! Part IV

Summary:  You and Pedro are: friends with benefits, for many years. Your layout is simple and clear. You don’t love each other. You’re friends on a daily basis, you take care of each other… Sometimes you sleep together. You go on dates with other men and Pedro doesn’t mind. Everything is simple until you accidentally hear Oscar say that Pedro loves you. Then you decide to tell him the truth and you ruin everything.

Warnings: angst!!! smut, mentions of sex, friends with benefits, sad, broken hearts, age difference (reader is 15 years younger than Pedro)

*

Part IV

For your meeting with Oscar, you chose a small, quiet cafe that also had tables outside. They were surrounded by thin wooden walls to give guests more privacy. It is not without reason that you chose the time when the least people came to the cafe. You felt that talking to Oscar would not be pleasant and you didn't want the presence of any nosy fans.

You arrived much earlier and started to remember the old times again. It's not that you didn't like Oscar. It's just that there's always been this little tension between you two that you've come to understand now. You remembered one such situation.

*

Pedro organized a barbecue at his place. The first season of The Mandalorian has just entered the Disney platform. He was so excited and wanted to share his joy. You weren't a Star Wars fan, but the first two episodes made you fall in love with the show.

You ran into the kitchen with a big smile to grab a few more glasses. Oscar was also inside. He was leaning back against the kitchen counter and scrolling through his phone. You opened one of the upper cupboards and stood on your toes, but still couldn't reach them. You heard a soft sigh and after a moment Oscar stood next to you.

"How much?" He asked.

"Four is enough."

You pulled away and he placed six glasses on the table. You rolled your eyes at that but left it unanswered.

"So," he began, "I heard you broke up with Rafael."

"I didn't break up. He turned out to be gay and he tried to force himself into something he didn't want to do. We became friends. I don't blame him."

"Another one for the collection," he muttered so quietly you almost missed it.

But you decided not to comment on it and asked something else.

"Don't you and Pedro have better things to talk about?"

You knew it was Pedro who told Oscar about Rafael. Because who else?

Oscar smiled and shrugged.

"You know, we like to exchange information about which chica is available?"

You shook your head.

"I remind you that you have a wife."

"And I'm very happy with that. I'm not chasing the unattainable.

You narrowed your eyes and wanted to say something, but just then a happy Pedro burst into the kitchen. He spun around you, put his hand on your hip and pecked your cheek.

"Are you having fun?”

"Sure," you replied.

Oscar winked at his friend and finally put his phone back in his pocket.

"How do you like Emily?"

Pedro rolled his eyes. He removed his hand from you but stayed close.

"She's a little rigid."

"Because she's stunned by you," moaned Oscar.

You giggled a little and grabbed a couple of glasses.

"So it was you who bring this innocent lamb to the wolf pack."

Oscar glared at you, but you were already leaving. You just threw over your shoulder:

"Pedro, bring the rest of the glasses!"

You sat down on the garden sofa across from Emily and watched her closely. You felt a pang of jealousy. Oscar really had an eye for women. You wanted to push that feeling away. Your deal with Pedro was clear. He had the right to date other women. But it hurt.

After a while, Pedro joined you and of course sat next to you, although there was more space next to Emily. You'd be lying if you said it didn't made you happy.

Pedro seemed a little sad and tense so you put your hand on his knee and squeezed it lightly. You didn't think much about that. It was natural. Just like the fact that Pedro moved even closer to you and put his arm around you.

*

You saw Oscar approaching and you sat up straight. His appearance made you laugh slightly. Really, even if you had poor eyesight, you'd recognize a star in him. When he was close enough you said:

"It's funny how you celebrities always think a cap and sunglasses are enough to make you unrecognizable. Like... your beard is enoughed."

"Nice to see you too, Y/N."

You snorted and gave him a mocking look as he took his seat.

"I heard, you quickly got back with Tyler."

So Oscar decided to go straight to the attack. You tensed up and growled.

"None of your fucking business."

He clicked his tongue and took off his cap and sunglasses.

"I didn't come to argue."

You raised your eyebrows. He had the audacity to accuse you of being with Tyler again and he said he wasn't here to argue. You wondered for a moment how he knew. Probably from Pedro, but... How did Pedro know? You thought maybe Laura had said too much as usual and you abandoned that thought. You had more important things to do. You had to get back at Oscar.

"Really? I think that's mostly what you came for. To knock me out more and remind me how much you don't like me."

Oscar was silent for a moment and watched you closely. You felt like his eyes were burning you. Finally he said:

"You know, I liked you at first, a lot. But then I found out about your deal with Pedro. And I got sick of watching my friend suffer."

Your heart clenched, and before you thought it over, you had already answered.

"I didn't know he loved me."

Oscar shook his head and looked at you as if you were someone stupid.

"Really? All those things he used to do for you. He followed you around like a puppy... Dammit, he even had your favorite shampoo in the bathroom!"

"Okay! A point for you." You sighed heavily and rubbed your temples. "I know what it looks like. I was stupid, but in my defense: Pedro is nice to any woman. Have you ever seen how he make a woman cry? " Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Except me," you gasped.

"Okay, now the point for you. He's sweet to women, but he hasn't slept with all of them."

"One point for you," you growled.

You were getting really tired of this conversation.

"What do you want from me, Oscar?"

" That you go to talk with him."

"NO."

He looked at you angrily.

"Really? After all he's done for you, you can't even give him that?"

"What? We can't be together. Pedro was clear about that, and I went back to Tyler. Besides, isn't that what you wanted? That we would stay away from each other."

"No. I wanted you to be happy. Both of you."

You didn't know if you wanted to punch him or laugh at him.

"Great, then you could talked about it, with the door closed!"

He threw his hands up and growled in frustration.

"Did you two sign some kind of aggression pact against me? You and Pedro. You both hold the same grudge. You were one who eavesdrop us. You should have left as soon as you realized he wasn't alone."

You clenched your hands into fists. Okay, he had a point, but he didn't have to throw it in your face.

"We're here for you to lecture me that eavesdropping is wrong?"

It seemed he was to make another biting remark, but eventually relented.

"Y/N, I'm really worried about him."

You felt worried for a moment, but... Who the hell did he think he was to dump it on you.

"Well, that's not my problem anymore. Pedro's been through worse things in his life and he's dealt with it. Besides, he barely spoke to me while he was filming The Last of Us, and somehow he was fine."

Oscar shifted uneasily in his seat.

"I advised him that."

You looked at him furiously. If you weren't still in a public place, you would have stood up and started clapping.

"Great! Then keep advising him, because you're doing this fucking awesome!"

He ignored your sarcasm, but you weren't going to stop.

"Also, the last time I saw a wave of videos, after his performance at the premiere, he looked great. I didn't notice him being sad."

"Y/N, you can do better. I'm an actor and I can see when others pretend. And you... Seriously? You know him. You know what he's like. Maybe this will convince you." He leaned over to you and said, "He turned down a good movie because it's going to be shot in Spain."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"Have you seen those dogs, thrown on the road from cars, who stay where they are because they believe their owner will come back?"

"Did you just compare Pedro to a discarded puppy and me to someone who throws dogs out of cars?"

Oscar rolled his eyes.

"I'm an actor, I like metaphors."

"I think, that you like insulting people more."

"You're getting off topic."

You were really tired of talking to him.

"What do you think I should do?"

"Meet him, please. Tell him to move on like you did. He'll listen to you."

You suddenly felt sad. You looked into Oscar's brown eyes. His weren't as warm as Pedro eyes. But you always saw them as two brothers.

"You know, it's too bad you didn't want to be my friend."

"What do you mean?"

"That you knew how he felt. You knew he was suffering because he confided in you. Who was I supposed to confide in? Pedro was my best friend. He was the only one I really opened up to, but about this one thing... what I feel for him, I couldn't tell him. I know you think I'm the bad person in this story, but you know... No one is born a villain."

Oscar swallowed and cringed. This was not the reaction you expected. You expected him to make another sarcastic reply, but you heard his soft voice.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Really."

He surprised you. You always knew Oscar was a good guy. If he wasn't like that, Pedro would never be friends with him. You sat in complete silence for a moment, then suddenly he asked:

"And how... How are you doing?"

You had to look at him to really believe he was talking to you. He looked at you with concern and you barely held back the tears welling up in your eyes.

"I miss him. More than you can imagine. But, maybe I deserved it. He suffered so many years because of me..." You took a ragged breath. "I will meet him. I will tell him what he wants to hear. That I am no longer mad at him for shouting on me. I will tell him that I understand him and that I have understood that I do not love him. And that we both have to move on.”

Oscar nodded.

"This should help."

He looked at his watch and winced.

"Sorry, but I have to get back to the set now." He stood up and to your greatest surprise, gave your arm a light squeeze. " Take care Y/N."

When he left you, you hid your face in your hands. Why did it all have to be so hard?

You were afraid of meeting Pedro, but you had to do it. Talking to Oscar made you open your eyes. Everything Pedro did for you was declaration of love, and you broke his heart. Over and over again.

*

It took you two days to pull yourself together. You finally decided to do it. You borrowed Tyler's car and arrived late at night at Pedro's apartment door.

Your heart was beating like crazy, and in your head you were still repeating the speech you had prepared. You kept saying to yourself: Pedro deserves it.

You rang the doorbell and as it opened, all the air escaped your lungs.

"Hello."

A slim, tall blonde looked at you with blue eyes. She was wearing a nightgown and a bathrobe. She was beautiful. You couldn't deny it. You even forgot where you were for a moment. You finally got your voice back.

"Is Pedro at home?"

"Yes, but he's in the shower. Call him?"

You immediately shook your head "no". You had enough and you didn't want see his half-naked body next to that blonde.

"No... I... I'm... I live in the neighborhood and... I'm looking for my cat. Yes, a cat. It's all black."

The woman looked at you sympathetically. Apparently she thought your trembling voice was the result of losing a pet.

"I'm sorry, I haven't seen your cat."

"Ok. Goodnight."

You ran back to the car without even turning around. You drove away quickly, but after only a few kilometers you pulled over to the side of the road. You started slamming your hands on the steering wheel, screaming and crying. Was that what Pedro felt every time you dated someone? Tears ran down your cheeks. You were so angry and sad. You had no right to feel jealous, but you did. A loud sob escaped your mouth.

And of course you wanted to slap Oscar. Pedro obviously didn't suffer all that much and didn't need to talk to you to move on.

"Fuck you Oscar!!! Fuck you Pedro... Fuck you all!!!"

*

So I heard you found somebody else

And at first, I thought it was a lie

I took all my things that make sounds

The rest I can do without

I don't want your body

But I hate to think about you with somebody else

Our love has gone cold

You're intertwining your soul with somebody else

Somebody Else - The 1975 (Cover) by Alice Kristiansen

*

Did Pedro really find somebody else? 🥺

Part III

Part V - ( there will be some Pedro pov)

*

Yes, Oscar is mother hen

[hummingbird-of-light]

Okay, here we go, just like I promised. The writing project~ We’ll start with Miss Farie’s backstory (since y’all voted her No. 1 at the favorite OC poll) I really hope I’ll get around to fulfill all the prompts 💪

Prompt: You Don't Understand

(First Story for Angstember 2024 by @ivystoryweaver )

If you were born into poor circumstances like Nomira Farie, there wasn't much hope or dreams on the planet Tyriuk IV.

Every day, Tyriuks spent hours toiling so that they could provide the bare necessities for their families. Every day, every last credit was saved up so that they could afford to eat and drink. Very few Tyriuks had the money to afford cars, travel or luxury goods. The Farie family was no exception. It wasn't as if they were among the poorest of the poor. Not at all. They were lucky that their father had a good job in one of the big factories where the shuttles for the rich and famous were built. Thanks to their wages, they had their own home and could grow their own crops. It was a good life according to the circumstances.

And yet Nomira, the youngest child, dreamed of a glorious future every day. She didn't want to be satisfied with what her family had. She wanted to be famous and respected like her great idols.

There were two celebrities that Nomira looked especially good to.

One of these people was the singer Nomira Zulik, after whom her mother had named the girl. Nomira Zulik was probably the most beautiful Tyriuk woman little Nomira had ever seen. And her voice was like a thousand beautiful instruments sounding at once. What's more, the singer had credits in abundance. She was rich and graceful and stunning.

But Nomira realized that she could never become a great singer. No one gave a Tyriuk woman from a poor background the chance in show business.

Which brought Nomira to her second idol: Miss Welisa Harkem. The woman was one of the most respected Tyriuks in the entire city. She ran a noble restaurant where she offered the specialty that every inhabitant of the planet only dreamed of.

Meat.

Nomira had always felt an incredible fascination for this ingredient, which was so rare on the planet that it could only be acquired and distorted by the richest of the rich. Sometimes poor families were lucky and leftover meat was distributed to them on the national holiday so that they too could enjoy the wonderful treat. The majority of the population subsisted on various plants and minerals. In addition, there were medicines that provided everyone with other necessary vitamins and proteins. Most Tyriuks did not grow particularly old with their way of life. Only those who ate meat every day – a special kind of diet – could live up to 200 years and remain young and beautiful. A great wish of Nomira.

And she wanted to make this wish come true. For this reason, the girl began learning about food and the processes of cooking at a very young age. She tried out different things with the plants that were available to her. She tried baking and cooking.

And she was only too happy to present her finished works to her third idol. There was a Tyriuk who was always there for her. A person she looked up to and wanted to make incredibly proud.

Her big brother Malui.

The young man was a whole seven years older than her, but he looked after his little sister day after day. He comforted her when other children called her dreams nonsense. He started working as soon as he could to buy Nomira things she wanted. Clothes, music, even a PADD.

And Nomira wanted to do everything she could to eventually earn enough money to support both her brother and her parents. She dreamed of opening her own restaurant, which would be just as classy as Miss Harkem's. She wanted to serve her family delicacies every day. Steaks, pies, roasts – there were so many wonderful dishes that could be made from meat. And once Nomira made it to the top, her family would stay young and live forever.

But that would not happen.

It was a very special weekend and Nomira was looking forward to cooking her family an equally special meal. She had waited for hours outside Miss Harkem's restaurant and when she finally drove up in her elegant car to open her restaurant, Nomira had dared to go to her.

~

With trembling hands, the young Nomira handed her PADD to the restaurant owner, who was flanked by bodyguards.

"Excuse me, M-M-Miss Harkem. I-I don't want to disturb you for long, b-but may I show you my National Day recipes?"

Hope was reflected in Nomira's blue eyes, which were framed by large glasses.

The soft smile on Miss Harkem's lips as she took the PADD and looked down at it made Nomira's heart race. What would the woman say? Nomira was just some run-of-the-mill poor girl, after all. The Tyriuk girl’s throat tightened as she watched Miss Harkem nod slowly to herself.

"Very interesting." Green eyes met blue ones. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

The girl immediately straightened up, sticking out her chest.

"N-Nomira. Nomira Farie, ma'am."

The restaurant owner smiled and handed Nomira back her PADD. Slowly, the teenager's shoulders slumped and her hopeful look faded. Were the recipes that bad? Had she disappointed her idol and wasted her time?

"Nomira. A really beautiful name. So Nomira, your ideas sound very interesting and I love to see such ambitious young chefs, but have you ever cooked with meat?"

The girl shook her head sadly. She had often dreamed of it, but there hadn't been enough money.

"I see. Then let me make you a suggestion." Nomira's eyes widened when Miss Harkem suddenly put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "My employees will deliver fresh meat to you today and you can conjure up one of these dishes for me. What do you think?"

Nomira's breath caught for a moment. Not a word would leave her mouth. Her heart was pounding so loudly that she could hear it in her head.

Then she nodded. Slowly at first, then more and more eagerly. An enthusiastic grin crossed her face.

"Yes, ma'am! I'll be happy to do that!"

Miss Harkem smiled.

"Very nice. How big is your family, Nomira?"

"There are four of us. I have my parents and a brother, Miss Harkem."

Nomira was filled with pride at the thought of how she would tell her loved ones that she was allowed to cook for the great Miss Welisa Harkem. But the lady's next words only filled her with even more joy.

"Very well. Then we'll provide enough meat for you to cook for me and your family. After all, it's our national holiday. If this isn't the right day for good deeds, what is?"

Nomira thanked her idol again and again, having to restrain herself from hugging her effusively.

This would be the best day of her entire life.

~

"Please take good care of my creation. I want it to reach Miss Harkem in one piece, yes?"

The restaurant staff who had delivered the meat to Nomira accepted the wrapped food with a nod.

"We will."

"I'm sure Miss Harkem will get back to you if she likes it."

It didn't sound as if the big man thought his boss might actually like the dish, but Nomira didn't care. All that mattered was that she had cooked a nice meal with a big, juicy piece of meat for the first time in her life.

The restaurant staff drove away and Nomira was finally able to enter the dining room and get everything ready for dinner. She had told her parents and Malui not to come into the kitchen or dining room until she called them.

Nomira's heart overflowed with happiness as she looked at the table set before her. The wonderful aroma of the marinated, roasted meat caught her nose and the young girl's mouth immediately began to water. This was going to be the best holiday ever.

"You can come in!"

When the door opened and her family entered the room, Nomira's chest swelled. Surprised looks fell on the dining table. Tears welled up in her mother's eyes and a hand slid to her mouth.

"What-" Nomira's father also seemed unable to believe his eyes.

"Surprise! I present to you the Nomira special menu."

"But ... what ... how..." Mrs. Farie shook her head in disbelief.

Nomira's words almost tumbled over each other as she recounted what exactly had happened. How she had met Miss Harkem and how she had said that she could cook something.

"Oh Nomira, my wonderful angel. What a lovely surprise." Mrs. Farie wrapped her arms around her daughter and Mr. Farie also patted the youngest proudly on the shoulder.

"A true child prodigy."

Only one remained standing on the spot. The Tyriuk whom Nomira had wanted to impress the most. The person she wanted the most praise from.

When Mrs. Farie let go of her daughter and she could finally look at her brother, he just shook his head.

"Oh, sweet pea. I ... do you even know what you've cooked?"

"Malui," Mr. Farie said in a stern tone. He gave his son a hard look.

"What? Surely she must know the truth! She must know where this oh-so-great meat comes from."

Nomira couldn't help but flinch at her brother's angry voice. She tilted her head in confusion. She was fourteen years old. Of course she knew where meat came from. Her classmates had told her that early enough and teased her for believing that meat grew on trees.

Slowly, Nomira took a step forward.

"Malui, I know. I know where meat comes from. Creatures from outer space, from other worlds, that are weaker than our race are collected and slaughtered according to their species. Each creature tastes different and is special. Each of them helps us to stay young and beautiful forever."

She had read enough about it. She had studied it a lot. It was nothing unusual for her.

Malui only shook his head. His gaze was sad and serious. Slowly, he stepped up to Nomira and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"These creatures you're talking about are living beings. They think and feel. They have friends and families just like us. It is not right what is being done to them. We don't need meat to survive."

There was something in Malui's gaze that Nomira had never seen before. It was something that made her heart break.

Disappointment.

Malui was ... disappointed.

"But ... Of course we need it! We need it to grow old. We need it to never get ugly! Every one of us should eat meat every day. We are more important than any other living being!"

That's exactly why Nomira wanted to become just like Miss Harkem! To give her family what they deserved. To become rich and be able to experience the incredible pleasure of meat every day.

"You don't understand, sweet pea. You're not old enough to see how wrong and cruel it all is."

Nomira felt sadness and anger welling up inside her. How could her brother say something like that? How could he treat her like a little child when she was almost an adult? Tears filled her eyes and she gritted her teeth.

"The way our kind lives is not good. There are other ways of living."

"Stop it! Stop saying things like that!" Nomira could no longer contain her anger. She took a step back and pushed Malui away from her.

"Malui! Your sister is doing everything she can to give us the chance of a better life one day! How dare you not appreciate that!" Mrs. Farie gave her son a disapproving look.

"How can I appreciate something that causes others suffering? That's not possible for me." Malui shook his head before looking back at his little sister. "I really hope you understand some day. And I hope you see that there are better, more peaceful ways to live."

Nomira felt the hot tears making their way out of her eyes. She could not and would not understand why her brother was talking such nonsense.

Did he really want to die young? Did he want to age and slowly shrivel up like her grandparents before they died? That couldn't possibly be his wish.

"I was planning to tell you today anyway and now it seems more appropriate than ever. I have found a group that shares my views on the consumption of meat. We will set out together to find a place where we can live peacefully. A place that is better than this planet."

And in that moment when she heard those fatal words, Nomira's world collapsed.

Her brother, who had always been there for her. Her brother, whom she loved so much. Her brother who had been one of her idols. He would leave her. Abandoned to rot somewhere just because he didn't understand that meat was a wonderful commodity.

"Then you can pack your bags right now and get out of here. I never want to see you in my house again." Mr. Farie's gaze was cool and furious at the same time. He, too, could not believe that his son would voluntarily make such a decision.

"Fine. If that's how you feel, then that's what I'll do."

The last look her brother gave Nomira was filled with sadness and bitterness. A look that the young Tyriuk woman would never forget. A look that would forever be engraved in her soul.

And even the call from Miss Harkem and the news that she was delighted with Nomira's cooking skills and offered her a place as an apprentice as soon as she was old enough didn't help to make the day any better.

A big dream of Nomira's had finally come true. But what good was all that if she couldn't share it with her big brother?

[mbti-notes]

hi i live in an ethnically divided country and in the process of growing up i too eventually became prejudiced towards other gruops because thats what we were taught that they are responsible for ruining the country etc but as i grow up ive tried to reduce this prejudice by first holding back judgements during conflict and hearing ppl out-not easy i was wondering if you have any other ways to help me tone down some of the prejudicial feelings i have thanks

Combating prejudice is deeply related to personal growth, so it's worth going into detail about it. Prejudice is a complicated topic because it needs to be understood from many different angles. It is a psychologically sensitive topic because of the moral injury and intergenerational trauma it causes. It is a politically controversial topic because there is a lot of disagreement about the best methods of remedying it.

Academically, this field of study is relatively new, so a lot of the research is still in early stages. It is a sad fact that academia has always been dominated by the perpetrators of prejudice, so the topic was not taken seriously until civil rights became a more prominent issue in society. In countries where civil rights haven't mattered or were continually suppressed, prejudice is considered just another form of suffering that people must endure.

WHAT IS PREJUDICE?

The literal meaning of prejudice comes from "pre-judge", to make a judgment without proper logical reasoning and/or before possessing necessary and sufficient evidence (of truth). If you can set aside the moral aspect of prejudice for a moment (whether it's good or bad), the foundation of pre-judgment is actually a cognitive issue, pertaining to how humans think, and the many ways in which their thought process can be flawed. Sometimes it helps to think of prejudice in cognitive rather than moral terms because it can reduce blaming and shaming, which allows for more productive discussion.

As humans evolved, they were often faced with dangerous situations in which they had to make timely decisions without opportunity to gather sufficient information. As a result, pre-judgment got built into the human brain as a survival tool. Pre-judgment relies on "fuzzy" sources of information that are immediately available, such as memories, emotions, and intuitions. The brain automatically uses past experience to formulate "general rules of thumb", which is an unrefined method of organizing and categorizing information. These generalizations can then be used to make quick intuitive leaps and connections when navigating new situations. The word "automatic" is important because most of this information processing takes place instantly, below conscious awareness.

The great speed at which pre-judgment occurs means that certain things must be sacrificed, such as mindfulness, precision, accuracy, and most importantly, the bigger picture, since the past experience of one individual is an extremely limited pool of information. The flaws of this "lower" level information processing are presumably why human beings also had to evolve the so-called "higher" brain that is used for logical reasoning and conscious deliberation.

In other words, humans essentially have two different brains (which have been given various names throughout the history of psychology). Problems arise when the two brains diverge or disagree. The bad news is that it's impossible to stop your "lower" brain from pre-judging because it's a critical brain function. The good news is that it's quite possible to use your "higher" brain to counteract the mistakes and negative effects of pre-judgment. This is a process that may involve several steps:

STEP 1: NURTURE SELF-AWARENESS

The first step is to develop enough self-awareness to realize that there's a lot more going on in your mind than you realize. The reason I go on and on about self-awareness is that you can't address an issue until you become aware of it. Many people aren't aware of their beliefs and values and just take them for granted. To increase self-awareness, reflect on your beliefs and values in more detail. It might help to write them down.

beliefs: what you take as true/untrue about the world

values: how you assign importance, significance, or worth

The fact of the matter is that people pick up their beliefs and values quite passively from their environment. Knowing this can make you more understanding of people when they hold problematic beliefs because it's likely that they haven't had enough opportunity to examine them properly. We all grow up internalizing someone else's beliefs and values. Yet many people treat their beliefs and values as their personal "identity" and are unwilling to let them go even when the beliefs are proven false or the values proven misguided.

In your case, your culture has taught you racist beliefs and values, e.g., that people of a certain ethnicity are bad, inferior, not to be trusted, best eliminated, etc. As a child, you accepted these beliefs and values because i) you didn't know any better, and ii) holding them made it easier for you to fit in. It feels good to fit in. A culture survives and thrives when its members continually validate each other, even when the beliefs/values being validated are problematic.

In adulthood, you can hide behind excuses and continue to uncritically conform with your culture, or you can reflect critically on your culture and actively choose the kind of person you want to be. Do you want these unexamined beliefs and values to define you? Do you want to let these unexamined beliefs and values make you a protector of a prejudiced society and a perpetrator of discrimination? If not, what kind of society do you hope to live in, and what kinds of beliefs and values must you hold in order to help bring that better society into being?

Shining more light on the underlying beliefs and values that underpin your behavior creates an opportunity to change them for the better. There are many things you don't have the power to control in society, but the one thing that is always within your power to improve is yourself.

STEP 2: FACE UP TO YOUR PREJUDICE

The second step is to admit that you pre-judge and acknowledge any problems it has caused. A problem won't get solved by dancing around it. To confront a problem head on means you must see the FULL extent of it. Once again, it might help to lay it all out in writing, for example:

Write down all the times you felt awkward, clueless, or helpless around someone different from you, and explain why.

Write down all the instances where pre-judgment led you to misunderstand, misjudge, or mistreat someone, either intentionally or unintentionally.

Write down all the times you got criticized or suffered negative consequences related to pre-judgment.

Write down what you really thought about the people you've met of that ethnicity, even if it makes you feel ashamed, especially if it makes you feel ashamed. Shame is an indicator that something about your thinking/behavior is morally wrong, so learn to pay attention to shame and you'll discover opportunities to improve.

Were there better ways to approach those situations? It's hard to change negative behavior when you have no positive behavior to replace it with. Generally speaking, a great way to learn and improve in social situations is to be more curious and take more time to listen, rather than make assumptions and trip over your own false beliefs.

STEP 3: IMPROVE YOUR THINKING SKILLS

The third step is to develop better use of your "higher" intellect and its ability to reason, i.e., improve your critical thinking skills. Critical thinking basically means properly vetting your beliefs and values. There are several criteria you ought to use:

Truth: Is your belief really true? Is it based on fact? Human beings are prone to confirmation bias, so did you gather all of the available evidence and give fair consideration to the counterevidence? If you don't know enough to judge truth for yourself, have you consulted with a wide range of experts on the matter? Experts are the people who have already done sufficient formal learning and study. While their word shouldn't be taken as gospel, they are a good source of credible information that ought to be taken into consideration.

Rationality: Is your belief/value reasonable? Can you explain how you came to hold the belief/value? Can you provide a convincing logical argument to prove your belief or justify your value to others? If you don't know enough to judge the quality of information on your own, has your belief/value undergone adequate critique and rebuttal from those who know more? When used appropriately, discussion and debate with others can help you refine your ideas toward greater precision and accuracy.

Coherence: Do you express and apply your beliefs/values consistently in every situation? Do any of your beliefs/values contradict each other? Have you ever detected or been accused of hypocritical behavior? When your beliefs, values, and behaviors don't align or fit with each other, it causes an uncomfortable mental state called cognitive dissonance. It's a sign that there's a problem in your thought process, which you should use as an opportunity to straighten your mind out.

Racial/ethnic prejudice is a form of faulty thinking because it is based on stereotyping. A stereotype is an over-generalization about an entire category/group. For example, Americans are often stereotyped as loud, Canadians as polite, French as snobby, British as uptight, etc.

Stereotypes are difficult to eradicate for two reasons. First, stereotypes are a form of lazy thinking, and laziness often wins out when mental energy is limited. Since they are a form of pre-judgment, stereotypes are a quick and easy way to make sense of the world: Thinking along very general categories bypasses the need to think about all the little details of each individual member of the category. Stereotypes are also lazy in that they do not properly distinguish between race, ethnicity, and culture. How a person looks (biology), where they are from (geography), what group they identify with (culture), and how they behave (psychology) are separate issues, are they not? Yet, stereotypes do not recognize such nuances.

Second, stereotypes are easy to defend because they contain a tiny but heavily distorted grain of truth. Culture is real, and people who grow up in the same culture are more likely to adopt similar attitudes and behaviors. It is true that Americans tend to value extraverted behaviors like assertiveness and outspokenness. Cultural trends make it very easy to find an example of a loud American or a polite Canadian. Humans only require one or two examples and their brain will see a "pattern" and start making generalizations. Generalizations eventually evolve into stereotypes once enough people start believing they are true.

Many people try to debunk stereotypes by calling them false, but that's not quite the right approach. The more important problem with stereotypes is that they are only a very small piece of the picture that has been blown out of proportion and treated as the whole picture. A stereotype is an oversimplification. To debunk an oversimplification is different than just calling out falsity. If the problem is that people aren't taking enough information into consideration, then the solution should be to make them take the fuller picture into account. This can be done in two ways:

i. Seek Counterevidence: For instance, for every loud American you meet in the US, you will find a quiet one that didn't draw your attention. If you actually did this, the number of loud Americans would immediately drop to ~50%. It's much harder to justify stereotyping when you realize that the number of people who fit the stereotype isn't anywhere near 100% or even a majority. This is why an effective way to increase racial and ethnic harmony is to encourage more mixing and mingling between groups. When you're constantly encountering evidence that goes against the stereotype, over and over again, stereotypes will cease to have any meaning.

ii. Respect Individuality: Recognize that not everyone subscribes equally or in the same way to the culture in which they were brought up. Go to a collectivist culture and you'll find plenty of rebellious people. Go to a traditional culture and you'll find plenty of open-minded people. There are plenty of people who suffer because they don't fit in well with their culture. When you stereotype, you are basically saying that every person is just a mindless or unthinking product of their culture. Is it fair to dismiss people in this way, before you've even known a single fact about their personal experience and background? Another reason why mixing and mingling between groups promotes racial and ethnic harmony is because normal everyday interactions force you to connect with each individual's humanity and you can't help but be more empathetic as a result.

Do you hope to be an intelligent person? An important aspect of growing as a person is to develop your intellectual capabilities because they are necessary for having good judgment. Is it possible to make consistently good decisions in life when your mind is riddled with wrong ideas and bad thinking habits such as overgeneralizing and oversimplifying?

STEP 4: UNDERSTAND YOUR PLACE IN HISTORY

The fourth step is to have a better understanding of history and how you fit into the historical context of racial/ethnic divides. People may be born to pre-judge but they aren't born with prejudiced beliefs. Beliefs are learned and passed down from one generation to the next. Prejudice isn't just a problem of one person's faulty cognition, it is also a social and political problem, where faulty beliefs and values build a society that treats people unfairly.

In many places, people of different ethnic groups often claim their own spaces. If too many people from another ethnicity start to move in, conflicts arise. The usual responses to this "invasion" are fight or flight. Fighting involves actively rejecting them, kicking them out, killing them, or passing laws to keep them from power. Flight usually involves moving to a new space once it becomes obvious that the old space is unrecoverable. Either way, the two groups remain separate, which means there are no opportunities to mix and mingle and improve relations.

As long as two groups cannot tolerate and accept each other, conflicts will persist. And some ethnic conflicts have persisted for centuries and even produced wars, haven't they? Whether you like it or not, you come into the world as a part of history. What role have your ancestors and family played in the conflict? What do people see when they look at you, and how does that affect your relations with them? Do you want to mindlessly perpetuate the conflict so that your kids and descendants must suffer forever, or do you hope for something better? What will your legacy be in this history? Can the prejudice end with you?

STEP 5: RAISE THE BAR ON YOUR PEOPLE SKILLS

The fifth step is to hold yourself to higher standards when socializing, communicating, and interacting with others. You have to improve your people skills so that you get the most out of every interaction, rather than doing things that poison or shut down meaningful interaction. You have to be more mindful about how you come across to people. I have already recommended books on the resources page about how to socialize and communicate better.

It is a simple matter to preach tolerance and acceptance, but it is quite another matter to actually try and implement it. The fact of the matter is there are certain values that cannot be reconciled. For example, if you believe that men and women should be equal under the law, how are you going to reconcile with a culture that believes they are fundamentally unequal and should be treated unequally? It seems impossible.

This is where it's especially important to combat stereotypes through real human interaction. Stereotypes are only easy to maintain because they are abstract in your mind. When you merely think about people who are different from you, you don't think of them as real individuals, but as an abstract category or a single superficial characteristic. This must change, and an effective way is to purposely surround yourself with more people who are different from you. I often advocate this kind of exposure to foster understanding between different personality types, and the same principle applies to other human differences as well, including racial, ethnic, cultural, religious, gender, and physical differences.

If you are a member of the dominant group in society, you have never really experienced what it's like to be in the minority, and it is an experience you ought to expose yourself to, in order to truly understand the world beyond your own limited experience. The dominant group always holds the freedom to determine their own identity, whereas the minority group never feels free from majority judgment of them. Have you ever experienced such existential constraint and do you understand what negative effects it has on human psychology? Reflect more deeply on how people are bound by social, economic, and political constraints and you might find more sophisticated explanations for the "negative" behavior you observe in people.

In real human interaction, you can better connect with people as individuals, you have far more exposure to the positive side of their culture, you'll have a more nuanced understanding of what really motivates them, and you'll have more opportunity to communicate your way through differences. When two people only see each other as abstractions, stereotypes can easily be proven true, which only hardens prejudiced beliefs. But when you learn how to communicate with empathy, person to person, heart to heart, stereotypes more easily fall away, and people are more likely to soften their stance and be open to finding common ground.

Yes, there are some extreme people you will never be able to see eye-to-eye with, but you have to realize those people are in the minority. The majority of people aren't extreme and don't want conflict. Until you can do away with your abstractions and connect with people on a more human level, you'll just continue dismissing everyone you've lumped into the crude category of "bad" and consider them irredeemable, thus never discovering the majority of moderate people who are open to communication, compromise, and change. If you hope to have an influence on others, it is only fair that you open yourself up to being influenced by them. This is a very difficult but worthy endeavor if two people who would otherwise be enemies finally find some form of mutual understanding or peaceful coexistence.

Counteracting the tendency to pre-judge is hard work, even painful work, which is why many people resist or don't bother. However, if you can take on this challenge of changing your thinking and improving your people skills, you'll be opening the door to tremendous growth. You'll have a much deeper understanding of yourself, others, and the society you live in. And there are many rewards to be reaped from possessing such wisdom.

[swordsmans]

hi!! for your books - can i ask if you use a guillotine? or how you're able to print to the edge of the pages? :) tysm!! <3

hi!!! im using a guillotine right now, but i used to sand down my edges with a drywall hand-sanding kit (and using three different grits of sandpaper). i still sand occasionally, especially if something needs touching up. i talked a little bit about my sanding technique in this post, but basically i clamp the textblocks between two scrap boards and go to town. its labor-intensive (you WILL work up a sweat if you do multiple books lmao) but not overly difficult. i have an enemies-to-lovers relationship with my guillotine, personally, so i cant 100% endorse it when a cheap, easy option like sandpaper is available.

as for... edging, i keep my book in the board-clamp setup and lightly sand the edges (if i havent already) to help with paint adhesion, then:

for the speckled edges, mix acrylic paint and water (about 50/50 or 60/40), then dip a medium-firm toothbrush in the diluted paint and flick the bristles with my thumb. the less water you use, the thicker your paint will be. thicker paint will give you more "dark stringy splatters"--and the thinner your paint, the more uniform (and lighter) your spray, mostly in a dot shape. with thicker/undiluted acrylic, the splatter will be rougher to the touch; hard to explain, but trust me.

for painted edges, i use matte or metallic acrylic paint (either with no water or a VERY very small amount of water) and a paintbrush as wide as the approximate thickness of the textblock. and i just, like, paint it--trying to maintain a steady wrist the whole time and covering as much of the edge as possible with a single stroke. it often takes a coat or two to get a good color, but ive done as many as four coats. the more you paint, the stiffer your edges will be. ive heard good things about acrylic inks, but i havent tried those yet.

you want to fan your edges fairly quickly if youre using acrylic, so i usually paint, wait 1-3 minutes, poke a corner until it's dry to the touch, then remove it from the clamps and flip through the book. rotate, re-clamp, paint the next edge, etc.

if im using matte acrylic, i also seal the edges with beeswax. i have a block i use for waxing my thread, so i soften it up a little in front of my space heater or over a candle and gently but quickly run it over the edges. then optional step: i warm the book again (im not advocating for fire hazard behavior here please do not warm your book over a candle) and smooth the edges with my fingers. sealing the edges dulls the color a little, but it prevents the paint from scuffing if you breathe wrong and reduces the rough flaking that can happen.

im sorry i dont have any pictures, but hope this explanation helps!!!

[cutieeeszn]

Hobby’s to pick up:

Okay, if I’m being honest. I am very inconsistent with my hobbies. I end up dropping them all. But having hobbies and activities really help you in multiple ways. Finding new friends, learning new things, disengaging from electronics. (I see y’all) so here are a few hobbies to look into. Some of them ive tried/been trying to get into. And these are the ones I’m most consistent with. :)))

Crochet

Crochet or knitting is so calming. And really not that expensive. It’s simple to learn. And you can do it over playing some music. Let me know if there’s any crochet tutorial accounts you’d love to know!

Drawing

- ah. This one is simple. Many tutorials available. I’d say, begin with finding out your art style. Experiment. Go crazy. You can trace some drawings first, as practice. Slowly move on to actually drawing. And remember, be creative. Finding your own art style is so important and influences how good your drawing may come out.

Learning a new language

This one is fun. Duolingo…my best friend right now. I’m doing French. It’s a beautiful language, and after a while of learning French. (3 weeks) when I’m listening to songs I can understand some parts. I also find it so entertaining comparing them to English words and how they link. 21 days forms a habit. So, doing duolingo. Kind of an habit now.

Embroidery

Again, calming. It’s beautiful to see how the images end up. And it’s more fun when you draw your own images. Really cheap I believe, varying from where you’re from. But making pillows, frames and little pieces is so lovely with embroidery.

Writing/ Poetry

This one is good and interesting as a hobby, personality trait. And for your mind. Training your brain to express its thoughts in different words, sequences and hidden under other meanings. Is so beautiful.

Digital scrapbooking

My instagram is filled with these. Actually, I only have one post. But it’s a digital scrapbook. Using CANVA and 17v28 to make these scrapbooks are so fun. Not messy, and so easy.

Dancing

Not only does it look snazzy. Dancing has so many health benefits. Hip Hop to ballet to jazz. Now I think about it, I miss being a dancer.

Reading

Be a book warm, have no shame about it. Really. Let me know if you want some book recommendations. Books take you into another world, let you view things. It’s trust beautiful when you find the right kinda book.

Creating a tumblr blog

I just started this. It’s fun though. That’s all I can say.

Fashion Designing

I sewed a shift dress. Well, kind of. It’s so fun making clothes. Although, fashion design was a school subject. It’s very fun to do. You can remake clothes at home. Turn an old skirt into a shirt. Go crazy. (Btw, when you take classes you start noticing fashion design features in your clothes. I noticed seam allowances, overlocking.)

Learning to play an instrument

I’m guilty of picking and dropping instruments. Currently, it’s guitar for me. I was really good at clarinet, and eh and piano. But now, I’m going back to guitar. Learning and instrument has many benefits. Study wise, talent wise, im pretty sure mentally too!

Normal Scrap Booking

Same thing as digitally. Just pulls you away from the screen ;)

Photography.

Capture those moments. Cherish them. Post them. Print them. Annotate them. Write about them. Just capture them.

Sincerely,

bliss5tar.

[threeclans]

Hi! I hope all is well. Ive been in the wcrp community for a few years now and Im currently in the process of rebooting my own rp server. Ive tried several times and have been struggling with keeping them running/staying motivated because activity seems to die completely about a month or two after opening… I was wondering if you had any advice for running a long-term rp like this? Anything is appreciated.

Hi! Advice as far as group management goes is always something that will vary from group to group — what works for us might not be exactly what another group wants to follow for their own guidelines, depending on preferences and standards for how certain things like time and server setup are handled — but I'd be happy to go into some things that I think have led to ThreeClans seeing a lot of success through the 8 years we've been active!

We've had to do a lot of adapting and learning during this time, which is the first thing I'll make note of. When our group started, we were roleplaying on Skype, and our organization looked quite a bit different than it does now today! Still, we've kept a lot of things from our past too, like our commitment to keeping up with the pace that we've chosen for our group (which follows a real life time system, so that the flow of time progression proceeds naturally in tandem with the flow of time in real life — each day that goes by in real life is the equivalent of one roleplay day, so that you don't have to worry about doing any math to track how your characters should be aging or progressing) and our longstanding lore and rules for the sake of member comfort.

One thing to keep a group going that I've found beneficial in ThreeClans on the modding front is making management something you feel capable of handling! As a Mod, you're dedicating quite a bit of your free time to something that's a hobby, and if you aren't able to invest your time or passion into a group, it's easy for members to feel uninvested too. To make this smooth for everyone, set yourself up for success! One way we do this in ThreeClans is by making things comfortable for us. We like to keep our channel numbers low, for example, so that we're not constantly darting back and forth between hundreds of text chats trying to keep up with what's being said. We've also been told this helps members feel less overwhelmed in what would otherwise come off as a "large server" with many channels to drown in. As an example, I've attached a screenshot below to display what our setup looks like for three of our main categories for NettleClan, CreekClan, and JaggedClan and the amount of channels we have accessible for each one.

When these are kept open, I can see them all at once on my screen without scrolling. Any notifications, therefore, are visible, and I can keep a close eye on all activity! Some of these channels are also temporary, and therefore we're usually even a bit lower in number. One other thing to note here is organization in the way you name things. Being able to search your channels for relevant information using Discord's search feature makes modding tasks easy. Say you need to reference a roleplay done by a member: by knowing exactly what format of naming you use for the channels you have available, you'll know where to look when searching!

When it comes to motivation on both the behalf of Mods and members, it's definitely a delicate balance. Sometimes you just can't be sure who will "click" in a group or with a particular opening. In ThreeClans, we always try to prepare for our openings with the awareness that we may have members who join and then drop off in the early weeks of being in the server for one reason or another. They may not mesh with the server atmosphere, they may feel overwhelmed with the amount of history or the amount of people present, they may simply get too busy to be prepared to take on roleplaying at the time and may not have anticipated such a thing when applying! For whatever reason, sometimes things just don't work out. We'd advise, then, leaving some "extra room" when you open a roleplay for these occurrences. Accept enough applications so that even if a couple of members do decide to depart, you won't be out of your entire member base.

Of course, you don't want to resign yourself entirely to the idea of people leaving! Like I mentioned, feelings of being overwhelmed can sometimes crop up, or sometimes people may just be a bit shy. In this case, the best thing you can do is be prepared to include them. Go out of your way to say hello specifically to them as they join the server! Offer a compliment when you DM them to give them their invite. When setting up the server for new members, be sure to make sure that every person is included in conversations about character development and relationships. It's your job as a Mod to take note of who clusters together and who might be a little more quiet, and while you can't make anyone talk, you can reach out and let them know you'd love to roleplay with them when you have a chance! This is something you should also encourage members of your roleplay to do if you have a pre-existing server. In ThreeClans, I think part of the reason we see success in new openings is because our current member base is so actively welcoming and completely excited to say hello to any new participants when they do hop in to the server that it's easy to feel like you've made a friend from the start.

When people feel like they fit in, they're more likely to maintain engagement in a group. Let them feel like they can come to your Mod team with ideas, and you'll be able to bounce your own thoughts off of them and help generate further plotlines that fuel you past that initial thread of the 1-2 month period of excitement. Of course, sometimes it has to be up to you and your Mod team to take note of the unique traits of people and their characters and come up with pitches to present to them on your own. This can be exciting for members as they feel included in something that makes them want to keep moving along — in addition, I'd always suggest that when you start a group, you should have an idea of how your opening plot is going to slot in new additions.

All too often I think people tend to have a basis for lore / setting / staff characters and neglect to imagine the plot threads that will need filling in by new additions. This can mean creating a draft and reworking it a few times as you figure out who the characters that'll come to populate your roleplay server are, of course, but even having a loose idea of a plot such as "This opening will be based around the idea of a clan that has been stable for seasons upon seasons, but now with the introduction of a branch group claiming to be descendants of former clanmates who went missing years ago, they're forced to reckon with what they really know about their history and how it might impact the reality of their cozy lifestyle and current leadership," gives you something to work with. Member characters can fit into the role of characters comfortable with their normal lives (soon to be disturbed) or in the position of those about to shake things up, depending on where you choose to go with things.

Another thing to mention as far as activity goes is maintaining OOC connections! It might take some time with a fresh group, but part of what keeps ThreeClans together, in my opinion, is the bonds formed by our members and the fact that we all often get together to have fun outside of roleplay settings. Things like movie nights hosted on stream or casual gaming sessions / nights hosted by Mods or staff can really bring a community together and foster a sense of belonging which translates to an overall feeling of happiness in a server. You can choose to host OOC events that have an impact on the IC world too, like contests to make up parts of the lore of your server or to create things like clan icons or server specific resources with special rewards like character art given out to anyone who participates!

This is getting long, though I could go on for ages about all the things that can compliment a server and its continued activity. At the end of the day, sometimes you just have to keep trying! Your first attempt or your first few attempts might fall through, but if you show continued passion and find the right group of people to work with, you'll manage to make something that continues steadily along, I'm sure!

Mod Maya

[bowserssupermariopartylaugh]

rambles about my messy af bowuigi yoshi's island au thing, at the "behest" of @maxium-defense-luigi i have more bits and bobs but tried to "summarize" the vague major points and failed 😭

Basically, it's yoshi's island's premise where kamek kidnaps baby luigi, but ends up taking him in as his ward. So now bowser and luigi grow up together and become each other's best friend.

But remember, kid mario and the yoshies are still looking for luigi. When they finally manage to defeat kamek, they take luigi with them, to "rescue" him. But, for the most part, what they've done is tear luigi away from the only family he's ever known.

And taken away Bowser's only friend.

From here, the story can somewhat fall in line with the movie premise. In that, the yoshies hide the human children away, sending them to a world where they better blend in. A world no one else seems to know of.

But kamek doesn't know that. He wages a war against the yoshies, razing their island in search of luigi. To no avail. He extends his search to other kingdoms, and Bowser grows up knowing only that luigi was taken from him—

—and that he /despises/ the boy in the red cap.

Moving forward in time to when bowser ascends to the throne, you can only imagine how someone like bowser only doubles the search efforts. He tears through kingdom to kingdom in search of luigi, and leaves destruction in his wake. He gains a reputation as a war monger, the world fears him, and he intends to keep it that way.

Until the day bowser's troops capture a human fumbling through the kingdom. Because bowser's hopes and dreams of a happy reunion with his invaluable friend are instantly dashed when luigi /doesn't remember him./ All Luigi seems to do is cower from bowser as if he were a dangerous beast, who won't let luigi go back home, and luigi /doesn't want to stay./

But bowser has gone his whole life looking for luigi, to have him by his side /always,/ and he won't let go without a fight.

Luigi seems real preoccupied with running back to some "Mario" guy, and lo and behold, bowser's scouts discover that the stubborn mushroom kingdom has also received a visitor.

A man in a /red cap./

The main timeline difference here is that in yoshis island, you rescue luigi relatively quickly. But in order for the au to work, the yoshies cant find and rescue luigi until he's been missing for like a few years. Oof.

Theres so many tropes i wanna cram into this thing likeee. I love to imagine that bowser has basically gastby'd luigi, ykno? Where luigi, like daisy, has almost become more of a concept than an actual person in bowser's head. And that luigi would just conveniently not care about bowser having terrorized numerous kingdoms for "luigi's" sake, and that he'd just /agree/ to stay with bowser forever and ever etc. even tho its completely unrealistic and frankly ridiculous

Ive made a short post about this before, where i wanted to explain that i would want to do these different phases of their lives as separate parts, so that I could focus on the different stages and their different tones without it seeming too disjointed for one story. Like i rly wanna dedicate a whole story just to kid bowuigi bc guh theyre so precious 😭

And clearly i want to cram beauty and the beast in there. I love the idea of bowser instantly crushing on now-adult luigi, but he can't make any progress bc bowser has also let himself degrade into the monster the world views him as.

Its also fun to consider this like, thing of how /kamek/ was the one who started this thing of marking the yoshies as mortal enemies of the koopas, moreso than any other kingdom or race. And so bowser grows up in a kingdom at war, and just kinda absorbs that mentality and those practices. It's kinda all he knows.

(It also just doesn't help that kid bowser was HELLA traumatized by having luigi kidnapped from his own home /right in front of him,/ as kamek hid them both together in a saferoom. Likewise, luigi is def fucked up from being kidnapped but whereas bowser explodes from all of his issues, luigi is a perfect embodiment of repressed/suppressed trauma. 🥲)

And remember, mario was basically raised a la tarzan by the yoshies (hell yeah feral jungle boy mario), and luigi is mario's brother. So now there's these two heavily feuding groups, and bowser goes and falls for someone he shouldn't associate with. Yes, it's romeo and juliet, dammit.

I have yet to watch howl's moving castle but (excuse me if im butchering your special interest 😭), i feel like this plot is also vaguely similar to that movie.

Its just fun. Like. Luigi's kidnapped as a baby by the bad guys, the good guys rescue him after like five years but it's basically kidnapping at this point, so whos in the right and whos in the wrong, etc

Ugh this is why i dont write this story lmao, im trying too hard 💀💀💀 this idea has clearly been rotting in my head too long and getting out of hand 😵‍💫

[catwouthats]

Do you know how I can watch stuff that’s usually on Disney plus in a way that doesn’t give them money?

Yes!

I have four answers for that!

1) Your local library

I know that not everyone is comfortable with pirating. The good news is that, nowadays, some libraries will let you borrow streaming services! I’d ask your library if they have something like that available (it’s usually a firestick) and if not, ask if any other libraries connected to your main one have it.

Also, even if they don’t have the streaming service, usually they have some sort of way to rent out movies or shows (weather online or in person)

And my dear college and information yearning friends, libraries have many databases and textbooks you can use for free!

2) A friend

Sometimes, someone else is already paying for it. Maybe a friend’s sibling or parent is paying for their whole family. Or maybe that person is paying themselves (Of course you wish they wouldn’t give money to them, but sometimes no amount of talking will stop them unfortunately). You could ask a friend, online or not, to share their account/family account with you!

3) Watch parties

A group of people coming together to save money/boycott shitty things. What’s better than that?

Online: Sometimes people will sharing their watching experience online. Usually on discord, tiktok, or instagram. You can join, you just of course have to find the accounts/servers that host these watch parties. I’d ask around on Reddit in order to find servers to join that do movie nights.

In real life: Also, you could get a group of friends/a club together to watch something on someone’s TV or some shit (some people even have those phone projector things so it actually feels like the theater). This is especially a good option if you’ve tried everything else and don’t want to personally resort to piracy… but might have a friend who’d do that for you…

You can find clubs at libraries, schools, colleges, and even retirement homes btw.

4) Pirating (of course)

To some people this might seem scary (because it runs the risk of viruses and and such), meanwhile, others might not even know how to pirate.

Here is how to pirate and precautions you should take when doing so:

Try to have an ad blocker (you don’t have to, it’s just an extra layer of protection. You probably should have one though)

You can use your phone instead of a computer, just know that it WILL fuck your phone up a little (personally I use my phone bc my computer is much more prone to viruses and information leaks. Ive been doing this for years and my phone’s fine… unless my storage gets near full/I have too many tabs open.)

Some internet providers may block you from using pirate websites on Google or Safari. I use Yandex as a search engine to get around this. With Yandex all I have to do is search “[movie name] watch now” and it will instantly come up for free.

Usually you can look up common pirate/free sites online and you’ll get some okay sites. Personally I use moviesjoy.is for live action movies/shows, readcomiconline.li for comics, and wcostream.tv for anime/cartoons.

Always ALWAYS X out the pop up tabs and close out things that say “you need to download this first” YOU DO NOT NEED TO DOWNLOAD ANYTHING FIRST (usually. Some websites do have downloadable versions… personally I don’t use those bc it risks viruses.)

Sometimes X ing out doesn’t work. you will have to reload the page or wait like 5-10 seconds for the X (or for “close”) to appear. It can appear in any corner of the screen. Sometimes even the middle of the screen. Like middle center or some shit.

It could take you between 1-10 tabs/pop ups to close before you’re actually able to access the shit. Especially if you don’t have an ad blocker. Be patient.

Going incognito mood would help keep your info safe… but personally I find it doesn’t make a difference. Doesn’t hurt to be extra careful though.

Also, would not recommend looking at questionable things on pirate sites on a library computer/property. Even if you clear history, the library knows. (They didn’t gaf that I used readcomiconline to read some comics on their firebook thingy. It’s just… know that they know.)

[nowandajenn]

Blue Christmas -chapter 11

Summary: After almost three years of marriage, everyone would tell you that Chris and his wife Kelly are the most stable, solid couple they know. But behind closed doors, things are tense as they keep trying for a baby, to no avail. When a secret threatens to shake their solid marriage to it’s core, will they be able to pick up the pieces?

Series warnings: angst (like a lot), mentions of infidelity, language, family drama, pregnancy, sexual situations.

Author’s Note: I do not consent to have my content, whether it be this story or anything else of my creation, posted by a third party on any other platform other than right here without my permission. This blog is 18+ and is not intended for minors. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Heed the warnings.

January 8th (Six days post accident)

The pain meds they give people in the hospital following surgery pack a wallop, especially when given through an IV. They make me have crazy dreams, turn my attention span paper thin, and have the added bonus of turning my brain/mouth filter virtually non-existent.

I’m trying to pay attention to the conversation that Chris is trying to have with me. I really am. To be fair, he knew when he got here an hour ago that I had just gotten another dose. 

“What about this one?”

 Chris turns the iPad towards me so I can see yet another picture and resume’ of a home health nurse. It was an idea that he was originally against, but both Lisa and Andi, my main nurse, had both suggested that maybe having someone come in for a few hours a day a couple times a week would be a good thing. As much as he wants to do everything he possibly can for you, he also knows he’s only one person. After not hearing a response, and thinking maybe I had dozed off into a narcotic induced nap, he looks up to see me using my good hand to fiddle with the end of the braid that the nurse had put my hair into earlier after the shower that I’d finally been allowed to have after days of bed baths. 

Showers used to be glorious things. Water turned up to near scalding levels, music playing loud with me singing loudly (and badly) along, and nice shampoo and shower gel that smells amazing. This was not that. This was an entire process that took nearly an hour, starting with my casted leg and equally casted arm being wrapped in waterproof plastic and ending with me in tears because washing long hair takes two functional hands, and I only had one. There’s zero dignity in having another person give you a shower when you’re a grown woman who’s been showering and bathing by herself for many years now without issue. The nurse had been amazingly sweet and sympathetic and helped me with whatever I couldn’t do on my own (which was a lot), but the whole experience just left me feeling useless and depressed. 

 A soft touch to my hand brings me back to the present. 

“Where’d you go?” he asks softly. 

”My hair smells weird.” 

He leans forward a bit so he can get a whiff of my hair. “It smells okay to me.” 

“It’s not the same. It’s weird, clinical hospital shampoo. It doesn’t smell good like mine.” I lament. “I couldn’t even wash my own hair today. It’s too long, and I couldn’t do it with one hand. I can’t even-”

My voice starts to waver and I look down at my arm that’s laying useless in a sling across my chest. Even my fingers are so swollen and bruised that I couldn’t even put my rings on if I tried. My ring finger, which hasn’t been naked since Chris slipped my engagement ring on it some four and a half years ago, feels very bare and just wrong. Everything about the accident and my injuries keeps hitting me in different ways. 

I look over at Chris and then down at the iPad that he’s still holding. “Hire whoever you want. I honestly don’t care, and it’s not like I have any choice in the matter.”

He sighs softly, knowing that this conversation was never going to go over well. He knows that I know that I’m going to need as much help as I can get when I finally get released to go home, but he also knows that being as stubborn and self sufficient as I am, my worst nightmare is having someone have to help me do something as simple as get out of fucking bed. 

“This is the one thing that’s happened lately that you do get to choose. I want to get someone that you’re going to like and be comfortable with. I can’t imagine what this is like for you right now, and I’m just trying to make life as easy as it can get when you’re home.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to like someone from a goddamn resume’. As long as they can do the job without fucking me up more than I already am, great.” My back is starting to ache because of the position that I’m laying in, and when I go to slide further up the bed, I’m rewarded with a searing pain in my stomach from the movement pulling at my still healing splenectomy incisions. 

“Fuck, honey-”

I fall back on the pillows, irritated as hell and over this damn conversation, and the words fly out of my mouth before I can even think about stopping them. 

“Just pick someone! Maybe you’ll get lucky and you’ll get another girl who’s going to fall for the irresistible Chris Evans charm, who has no moral compass and no compunction about sleeping with married men. Then you can throw a shot into her too.”

I watch as his face falls, his hand pulling back from where it’s been resting on my arm and a lump the size of a golf ball forms in my throat. I didn’t mean to say that. I might as well just be wearing a name tag that says Hi, I’m: Here To Make Things Worse. I cover my mouth with my hand and glance up towards the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away before they can fully form. 

“I’m…..I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….” I start, but the words don’t want to come out. 

“It’s okay.” he tries to assure me. 

“No, it’s not.” I look down at the fluffy blue blanket that Chris brought me from home and I play with the slightly frayed edge, ashamed and unable to look at the broken look on his face. “This is a bad idea.” 

He pops a shoulder. “Could always hire a male nurse.” he says, raising his eyebrow. 

I let out a small snort, knowing he said it to try and lighten the mood, but all I can feel right now is trepidation at the thought of coming home with Chris to recover and him taking the brunt of all of my frustrations and emotional eruptions. 

He turns the iPad off and puts it on the side table and I watch as he stands up and grabs his jacket off the back of the chair, and my eyes widen.

“Don’t leave. Please, I-” I sputter out, trying to push down my panic. 

“I’m not. I’m just going to run down and get a coffee and check in with Shanna and see how Dodger’s doing. Are you getting hungry? You want me to grab you something?” 

I squint, trying to remember the dinner options on the meal sheet they give me every day and which one I might have picked. 

“Uhhhhh….no. I’ll be okay. They should be bringing whatever I picked out soon anyway. I’ll live.” 

“Okay. Text me if you change your mind. I’ll be back. No more than half an hour, I promise.” he says, resting his palm on the top of my head gently. 

When Chris gets back twenty or so minutes later, I’m honestly sort of surprised he came back instead of just going home and getting away from my emotional, broken ass for a while. And even more surprised that his mom is with him, since I didn’t know she was planning on coming by today. 

When they walk in, I’m sitting in one of the chairs in the room with my leg propped up, poking at a dish of red jello with a spoon. 

“What are you doing out of bed?” Chris asks, surprised. 

“I had to pee after you left, and being in bed was making my back hurt, so I asked if they could just park me here for a while. There’s not a ton of options when all you can really do is sit, so…I’ll be ready to get back in bed in a while.” 

Lisa starts towards me and I push the wheeled table away from me slightly so she can bend down and give me a hug, which I return with a strength that takes her by surprise a little bit. Knowing how hard the last few days (hell, weeks for that matter) have been and the fact that your mom isn’t around, she just had a feeling today that you could probably use a big dose of love that only a mama can provide, which is why she decided to pop by and surprise both you and Chris. 

She tilts my cheek to the side gently as she examines my face. “Your bruises are looking better.” 

“Mmm. Still hurts. Airbags will save your life, but you’re going to feel like you went twelve rounds with Mike Tyson after they go off in your face.”

“So, Chris and I were talking downstairs, and I had an idea.” I swallow my mouthful of jello and look towards Chris, really hoping that he didn’t tell her about what I said. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly and the anxiety in my gut loosens up a bit. 

“What would you think about me coming to stay with you guys for a bit when you got home?” 

“Chris, tell me you didn’t ask your mom to come home with us to be my babysitter.” I groan. Lisa snorts slightly. “He didn’t ask. I’m offering. I know you’re not crazy about someone you don’t know being in your house and….” she searches for the right words “helping you. And it wouldn’t be for too long; just until you guys get yourselves situated at home and get into a routine with things. It’s just to make the transition a little smoother.” she assures me. 

I look over at Chris and he shrugs, gesturing to me. “This is your call.” 

I sigh, looking over at my mother in law, who I adore more than anyone in the world. “I’m not great to be around lately. I’m still not convinced that coming home after this is the right thing to do, and I’m afraid it’s really just going to make things worse. I don’t want you both to have to deal with my psychotic mood swings.”

“Sweetheart, if your mood was completely stable after everything that’s happened, I’d be terrified. You’re hurt, and you can’t do the things that everyone else takes for granted without help, and everyone knows how frustrating that is. I know you’re angry and sad and frustrated. And that’s okay. We’re-” she gestures between herself and her eldest son “made of tough stuff. Well, I’m tougher than him. We all know he’s a big baby who cries at the drop of a Hallmark movie.” I sputter out a laugh while wiping my eyes. 

“We all love you, and we’re all here for you no matter what.”

January 17th (Fifteen days post accident)

“They would release you on the coldest day of the year.” Chris says as he makes a final sweep around the hospital room that I’ve called home for the last two weeks. 

I huff out a small laugh. “Let’s just get the hell out of here before they come back here and tell me that they’ve decided to keep me for another week.”

“They should be back any minute with your discharge papers, and then we’ll go. The doc said he was going to call in your prescriptions to Walgreens, so hopefully they’ll be ready by the time we get there. Or I can get you home and settled in and run back out and grab them.” 

“We can wait for them. It’s too cold to be running back and forth.”

I look down at my “going home” outfit and can’t help but feel completely ridiculous. A pair of pink flannel pajama pants with penguins on them (they’re the only thing besides sweats that I can get up over the cast on my leg), a long sleeved white shirt, and one of Chris’ hoodies that’s zipped up over my sling, leaving just my good arm in the sleeve. They removed the stitches from my arm yesterday, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to look at it. The compression bandage that I’ve been instructed to wear all the time (with the exception of showers) is a lot more comfortable than the layers of wrapping my arm was encased in, but still annoying. And it itches like the devil. My right foot is encased in fluffy socks and a shoe, and my left leg is of course still in a cast, a sock pulled down over my exposed toes so they don’t freeze off when I go outside. 

My eyes go to the small black wheelchair that’s coming home with me and I squeeze my eyes shut. Because I’ve been instructed not to use my damaged arm for ANYTHING more strenuous than moving it gently to maneuver a shirt on and off, I can’t use crutches. 

Chris finishes packing up my backpack, and stops when he sees me staring vacantly at the wheelchair. He frowns, and walks over slowly, sitting on his heels in front of me. 

“Hey.” he murmurs softly, snapping me out of my reverie. 

“Hmm?”

“This isn’t going to be forever. They said the cast is going to come off hopefully in a couple of weeks, and then they’re going to put you in a walking boot. At least then you’ll be able to get up and move around. I know, I know how much you hate this. I do. But it is not forever.”

“I know.” I hate how small my voice is. “I hate how I have to think about every move I make. I can’t reach for anything because I can’t use my arm. I have to be careful when I stretch or it hurts my stomach. I have to cough or sneeze as soft as I can or else my ribs hurt. It’s just….I feel like a prisoner in my own body right now.” 

“But you’re going to get the chance to get stronger and recover.” I look up at him and our eyes meet, and I know we’re both thinking about the fact that the driver of the car that hit me died four days ago from his injuries sustained in the crash, and how that could have been me instead. 

When the nurse comes in with my discharge papers and the litany of aftercare instructions, Chris takes them and heads downstairs with my stuff so he can bring the car around to the front entrance. The nurse helps me put my coat and hat on before helping me maneuver myself into the wheelchair and we head down to the first floor. 

“You excited you’re finally out of here?” she asks me with a smile. 

“And nervous. It was kind of comforting knowing that even though I was stuck in here, if anything went wrong, I was in the right place.”

I see Chris pull up at the curb, and the nurse wheels me outside, and I gasp at the biting cold. It’s the first time I’ve felt fresh air on my skin since the day of the accident, and although it’s beyond freezing, it still feels amazing to breathe it in. It isn’t until I get situated in the passenger seat and we’re ready to drive home that the panic sets in. 

“The last time I was in a car I almost died.”

Chris takes his hands off the steering wheel and reaches over to hold my right hand. 

“I know.”

“You drive like an insane person.” 

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, he snorts, because he knows the amount of speeding tickets he’s accumulated since he started driving is ridiculous. But he also knows that since the accident, he’s been almost hyper aware of his speed and everything going on around him, when he usually just goes on autopilot when he’s driving, like anyone else who drives every day. 

“I promise I won’t drive like an insane person with you in the car.” 

“Don’t drive like an insane person ever. You can’t control the way other idiots drive, but you can control how you do. I need you around.”

Those words make hope bloom in his chest. 

“I promise.”

When we get home, relief washes over me. As promised, Chris drove very carefully and obeyed the speed limit, but I was still a nervous wreck the whole 25 minute drive. Plus, being scrunched in the roomy, but limited space of the passenger seat isn’t very comfortable with my injuries. One the car is parked inside the garage and Chris has my door open, he realizes that he didn’t really think this part through very well. 

The furniture inside has been arranged and re-arranged about a dozen times in different configurations to accommodate the wheelchair in the house. He purchased a shower chair for me to make showers easier, he got cast wraps to keep the cast on my leg dry, he set up a perfect little nest with pillows and blankets on our sectional so I’d be comfortable, with remotes and chargers and books, and even a little cooler within reach. 

I notice the look on his face that he gets when he’s confused about something or trying to find a solution to a problem, and turn to him. 

“You’re trying to figure out how you’re going to get me in the house, aren’t you?”

The sheepish, yet slightly guilty look on his face tells me I’m right. “I have guys coming on Monday to put in a temporary ramp over the stairs in front. But I didn’t think about today.”

There’s two steps to get from the garage into the house, and the wheelchair isn’t going to make it up them. 

“You’re going to have to carry me in the house.”

“I was thinking that, but I don’t want to hurt you. You’re still really sore.” he says, gesturing to his chest and stomach. 

“I’m pretty sure everything I do for a while is going to be somewhat painful, but I think this is our only option. Why don’t you grab the wheelchair and bring it in, put Dodger in the bedroom until we get inside so he doesn’t knock me down when he sees me, and then come back out and grab me?”

He exhales slowly. “Okay. I’ll be right back. Just…..” he trails off, gesturing vaguely at me. 

“Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.” 

When Chris comes back out, he comes around to the passenger side and opens the door for me. I turn in the seat, angling myself as much as I can to make it easier for him to grab me and carry me inside. I’m slightly nervous about how much this is going to hurt, but I’m determined to not let it show. 

“You ready?” 

I take a deep breath and nod. He stoops down and slides his left arm around my back, while his right arm loops under my legs and he lifts me gently, my good arm going around his neck. He’s carried me like this about a million times in the years that we’ve been together, but for some reason, all I can think about is how he carried me (both of us slightly tipsy)  like this up to our hotel room after our wedding reception, and me laughing and telling him not to drop me or else I’d get our marriage annulled. I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory. 

I open them back up when I feel Chris setting me down on the end of the sofa and helping me get comfortable. 

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks nervously. 

“I’m okay. Can you just grab a couple pillows so I can put my leg up though?” 

He hits the button on the side of the couch for the foot rest to come up and slides a couple throw pillows under my leg. 

“Can I get you anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty?” 

“I”m okay for right now. Can you go get Dodger though? I missed him like crazy.”

He smiles and goes to the bedroom to let the dog out, and a second later, I hear the sound of his nails clicking rapidly on the hardwood. 

“Hi, baby!” I exclaim, holding my arm out. 

“Dodge, be gentle, okay? Careful.” Chris warns. 

Dodger jumps up on the couch next to me and immediately snuggles into my side. Luckily enough, he’s on my good side so I can give him pets and belly rubs. 

“Mom’s going to be over in a few hours. She said she wanted to give us a little bit of time to get settled in and such. I’m gonna go and unpack our stuff and start some laundry. You have the remotes and your phone and charger nearby….if you need anything, just yell. Or tell Dodger to come get me.” 

“I will. I think I’m going to try and take a nap though, honestly. The trip home kind of took it out of me.”

“Okay.” He grabs a blanket from the back of the sofa and drapes it over me, dropping a kiss to my head before he leaves to go get started on unpacking our stuff. As he walks away, he stops to look back at me again, thinking to himself how it seems like it’s been a lifetime since the last time the both of us were in this house together, even though it’s only been about three weeks. As much as he wanted you back home, he never in a million years thought this would be how it happened. 

January 25th (23 days post accident)

“God, that feels nice.” I moan at the feeling of Chris’ fingers in my hair, massaging the shampoo in. 

“Why do you think I always beg you to wash my hair?” he says, smirking. I catch his use of the present tense, and try and think about how long it’s been since the last shower we took together before the accident. I’m damn near positive it was way different than the ones that have happened since I’ve been home, and probably ended in orgasms all around. 

“This is infinitely better than the showers in the hospital. The nurse who always used to do mine had long ass nails. I’m pretty sure one of them is still embedded in my brain somewhere.” 

He laughs as he rinses my hair with the detachable shower head. After working conditioner through my hair and helping me scrub myself down and even shaving my right leg and under my arms for me, he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist before grabbing another one to dry me off. I’m sitting on the toilet lid in my underwear while Chris smooths lotion on me, letting me do what I can reach with my good arm when I say his name softly. 

“Thank you.” I watch his eyebrow quirk up in confusion. 

“What for?”

“This. The- everything. When we got married, I bet you never imagined you’d have to help me shower and put on clean underwear and take me to go pee.”

He looks down as he continues to rub the lotion into my leg. “No, but I don’t think anyone goes in ever thinking about the worst case scenario where those things would ever come up. But that’s part of the deal, right? For better or worse? That covers everything; not just the good stuff. You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job.” 

“You could have just let my mom have her way and let them take me home.” I point out. 

He scoffs and shakes his head. 

“Absolutely not. For one thing, you and your mom would have ended up killing each other. And for another…..your head is giving you enough grief as it is right now, and being around her would have just made it worse. I couldn’t do that to you.” 

I see Chris reach for my shirt and groan, knowing how much it hurts my arm to put a damn shirt on. 

“How bad does it look?”

“Your arm?” 

I nod slightly and he sighs. “It’s still really raw and red. It’s going to fade, but it’s going to take some time. The doctor recommended some stuff that’s supposed to help with scars. Make them less visible over time.” 

“Can I see it?” I ask. 

“Are you sure?” he asks. I shrug a bit. 

He picks me up off the toilet seat and walks us in front of the bathroom mirror and turns so I can see my arm. I suck in a shuddering breath and close my eyes. It’s ugly. A roughly five inch or so vertical incision straight down my upper arm, red and raw and glaringly obvious. Even when it’s fully healed, it’s going to be ugly. 

“If you want, I can always talk to Josh. We can see if he can draw something up so you can cover it up once it’s fully healed.”

I nod as tears leak out of my eyes. Chris tilts my chin up. “It’s just a scar. It doesn’t define you and it’s not the end of the world. It doesn’t make you any less beautiful.” He pivots so my ass is sat on the bathroom vanity and once I’m settled, he pulls the shirt over my head, being gentle with  my arm, and then helps me into a clean pair of pajama pants. 

“You know, we’re actually getting kind of good at this.” he says as he carries me out of the bathroom and sets me down in our bed. 

“I hate that that’s something to brag about.” I tell him, rolling my eyes. “Although, I guess after doing the same thing day after day for a couple weeks, it’s to be expected. You don’t look quite as terrified now as you did the first time we did this.” 

February 2nd (one month post accident)

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner….I was in a pretty serious car accident a month ago and things have been a little hectic since then. I haven’t been cleared by my doctor to fly yet, so there’s no way we can make it out there. Mmmmhmmm. Yeah, the reservation is under Kelly Evans.” 

Chris walks into the kitchen and starts making himself a cup of coffee while I’m on hold with the resort to cancel the Valentines Day reservations I had made back in November. I had a solid plan that I had cooked up with Meghan and his team so he wouldn’t have anything scheduled for the three days I had booked at Post Ranch Inn, but then between finding out about the affair and the accident, my carefully made plan got blown straight to hell, leaving me feeling a little (lot) angry. 

“Okay. Thank you again for all your help. I’m sorry again for the late notice.” 

I end the call and toss my cell phone onto the island, irritation bubbling up inside me. 

“Who was that?” 

“Canceling the reservation I made for us for Valentines Day at Post Ranch Inn. I made it before I found out about you fucking someone else. That kind of took the romance out of it a little bit. Well, that and the fact that my body’s still mostly useless.” 

My newly (as of two days ago) uncasted leg starts itching to high hell under the walking boot and compression sock I have on, and I start the process of unstrapping the boot one handed so I can enjoy scratching my leg to my heart’s content. I wish I could have gotten a picture of Chris and the doctor’s faces when my cast was finally cut off and a fork, two pens, and a plastic ruler came tumbling out of it, all lost in my attempt to wedge something down there to scratch the itch. 

He sighs lightly and turns so his back is to the counter, giving me what I’ve coined his “kicked puppy look.” Most of the time, I feel guilty for whatever I said to make that look appear, but today I’m just too agitated to care. 

“Don’t give me that look. You do it every single time I mention the fact that you had sex with someone else. You know what you did. You don’t get to make that face and look like I just told you that Disneyland is closing down forever.”

He walks over to where I’m sitting with a sigh, and reaches to help me with the straps on my boot. “Can we not fight? Please? I know that there’s an ocean of stuff we have to work through, and I know none of this is easy…I just don’t want to fight with you.” 

“Just stop. I can do it myself. You know, just because I still need you to help with most of my basic human functions doesn’t mean that I necessarily like being around you all the time. You’re my husband and for some God forsaken reason, even though you did what you did, I still love you, despite me calling you a cheating shitbag in my head at least once a day. So, just leave me alone for a little while, okay? I was really excited about having this trip happen, and it all got blown to hell in a really magnificent fashion, so let me just sit here and be pissed off and sad about it.” 

He holds his hands up and backs away. “Okay. I can do that. Just, we have your doctor’s appointment at 2, so let me know when you need me to come help you get ready.” I look up at him and nod, spinning my phone on the table. He starts to walk away, but then turns back towards me. 

“You know, when the accident happened and you were out of surgery, I kind of went into crisis mode. I called my team and canceled everything, because I knew that you were going to need someone to be there for you and help take care of you until you were stronger. And I know that you have a million people that are in our lives that would drop everything and do that for you, because you’re amazing and everyone loves you so much. The parade of people that have come and gone through here since you’ve been home is proof of that. I kind of just took charge, because I didn’t know what else to do….and I don’t think I took the time to stop and ask myself if you even wanted it to be me, given everything that happened.”

“Chris….I did. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable having anyone else do it.” 

He nods. “I know that it’s hard for you to be around me sometimes. I know that you’re still angry, and hurt and upset and you have every right to be. I know we’re a mess, but once things settle down a little bit, we’ll get in to go see that therapist that Carly told me about, and we’ll start working through it. That is, if you still want to.”

“I do.”

A few hours later, we’re sitting in the waiting room of my gynecologist’s office, and Chris is just staring around the room at the posters on the wall, and occasionally glancing at the couple of pregnant women that are in the waiting room with us. 

“Why did you need to see her?” he asks softly. 

“I’m overdue for my annual exam, and since all I do lately is go to the doctor, I figured I should probably just get it out of the way.” It’s a half truth. Well, ⅓ truth. If the doctor was right about my hcG levels when I was in the hospital, I’m about six weeks pregnant, and it’s probably time to get official confirmation in black and white. And if I am, Chris deserves to be there to hear it. But first, he needs to get something done himself. 

The nurse comes by and hands us both a clipboard with paperwork on it, and Chris’ eyebrows raise. “Why do I get paperwork?”

The nurse clears her throat nervously and taps a section on the paperwork. STD test, with the works. She walks away to let us fill out the papers, and his eyes shoot to mine. 

“Really? I told you, I used a condom.” he whispers. 

“I don’t care. I need to see it for myself, for my own peace of mind.”

He’s called back first, and with a nervous swallow and a look back at me, he follows the nurse. I’m called back shortly after, and after blood work, urine test, and the internal exam, Chris is allowed back into the exam room to wait with me while the results come back. 

“You want to grab something to eat after this? You didn’t have much for breakfast earlier.” he asks. 

“Uh, yeah, I-” I’m interrupted by a knock on the door followed by Dr. Hartman coming back in. By the look on her face, I just know. 

“Congratulations, you guys are pregnant.”

Chris is lucky that there’s a chair right behind him, or he would have been in a world of pain. When I see him basically collapse into the chair, I get worried. 

“Mr. Evans, are you okay?” Dr. Hartman asks, reaching for his wrist to check his pulse. His face is a look of pure shock, like he can’t begin to comprehend what he just heard. 

“Chris?” I ask, my own emotions threatening to spill out despite knowing this was coming. I instantly feel bad for not giving him a heads up that this was a very real chance. His eyes find mine and we just stare at each other. 

“I’m okay. I just- it’s- are you sure?” he asks, his voice unsteady. The doctor steps away, seemingly convinced that a movie star isn’t going to drop dead of shock in one of her exam rooms. “The tests are extremely accurate, but I’m going to go ahead and do a transvaginal ultrasound so we can take a look. If you’re far enough along, we should be able to hear the heartbeat.” 

Since I’m still in the gown and haven’t gotten dressed yet, I lay back on the table and assume the position again as she pulls the ultrasound machine towards her. Chris gets up on unsteady legs and stands next to me, still looking shell shocked. 

“Okay, this is going to be a little uncomfortable. Just take a nice deep breath.” she warns. I do as she says, but I still make a face when the probe is inserted. Chris is torn between watching my face and wanting to see what’s happening on the screen. Me, I’m too afraid to look anywhere but his face. For as much trepidation as I’m feeling over this pregnancy, I’m overcome with the sudden fear that she’s going to find the baby and there’s not going to be a heartbeat, just like last time, and I honestly don’t know if I can go through that twice.

“There it is.” I hear from next to me. I watch as his eyes move from mine to the screen, seeing the tiny blob in the middle of my uterus with the little flicker in the middle. A heartbeat. I still can’t bring myself to look though. Dr. Hartman, who was the one who told me that I had miscarried and performed my D&C, senses my fear, and quietly hits a button on the machine. The sound is almost overwhelming as it fills the room. I have a crazy thought that it almost sounds like clothes in the washer as it’s agitating. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. My eyes snap to the screen, and I immediately bring my hand to my mouth and burst into tears. 

“From the size, it looks like you’re about six or seven weeks. Which is going to put the due date at about….” she stops to put some numbers into the computer. September 23rd, give or take.”

After printing off some pictures and leaving the room to let me get cleaned up and get dressed, we leave the office feeling a million different emotions. We’re both quiet on the drive home, both lost in thought. How many times have we wished for this? How many negative pregnancy tests have we seen and tossed angrily into the trash, tears threatening to spill. How many times did we say “It’s okay. It’ll happen. I know it.” only for it to happen during the worst period in our marriage? 

When we get home, I slowly waddle into the house, still enjoying the feeling of being able to (somewhat) walk instead of being chained to that damn wheelchair. I make my way to the back door to let Dodger out, passing Lisa, who’s watching both Chris and I with a curious, careful gaze. 

I feel him behind me as I turn on the tap, filling a glass with water and downing it almost all in one gulp. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly. He can see my hand trembling slightly as I hold the glass, and he knows he has to tread lightly. 

“In general? Or about the fact that we found out I’m pregnant in the middle of our personal shit storm?” 

“Both.” I drop my head. Truth be told, I’m exhausted. My arm is killing me, the nerve pain making burning pins and needles radiate over my whole arm. My leg is aching from being on it for an extended amount of time. 

I’ve been trying to roll it over and around in my head for weeks. What to do if I really did have the shittiest luck in the world, and I did end up actually pregnant in this situation. I keep coming back to the bad joke that my brother made the night I found out about Chris about me not having to deal with all of this while I was pregnant. 

“I don’t know if I can do this.” My voice is soft, but he hears it like I’m screaming it. “I don’t know if I can have this baby. I don’t know if my body can handle it, and I don’t know if I can handle it emotionally.” 

The words punch through him like a hit from a prize fighter. He knows exactly when it happened; the night that you had come over to get a dress from your closet and we had ended up defling quite a few surfaces in the house. There’s a good chance that our baby was conceived on the dining room table. 

“Are you talking about-” he can’t even bring himself to say the words. He KNOWS this the worst timing for this to happen. He KNOWS that no matter what, it’s your choice. But the thought of not having this baby with you almost brings him to his knees. 

My breath hitches. “Chris, look at us. Take a good look at me, at my body. I’m broken. I’m still recovering. I’d have to be monitored more closely to make sure that everything is okay. Because we don’t know if it will be.” The thought of finally getting everything I wanted with my husband and then not having it makes my chest hurt. 

“I’ve wanted kids with you since the moment you told me you loved me for the first time, and that I was it for you. I knew that you were going to be the father of my kids one day. But now, with everything, I don’t know if that’s the case anymore.” 

The tears are burning my eyes, and I can feel the sobs starting to build in my throat, and I know if I don’t get out of this room right now, I’m going to lose it. I’m pretty sure that Lisa heard at least part of our conversation, and I can’t talk about it anymore without losing my mind. I set my glass in the sink and silently make my way upstairs, thinking that two of the worst conversations I’ve had in my life have taken place in the kitchen that I loved. Now I can barely stand to be in it. 

[sieglinde-freud]

6, 13 and 26? :)

OMGGG MAKER OF THE ASK GAME IN MY INBOX HI FAYEE <3 6 already answered soo

13. What do you like most about Fire Emblem?

i would love to lie to you all and say its the gameplay because im super smart and good at these games but if youve read like any of my posts it’s probably fairly obvious its the characters. these little guys make or break the game for me, and i think the fact that fire emblem has so many of them is what keeps me really into the series. theres just SO MANY of them, and i know thats a detractor to some people, but being able to pick out a handful of favs for each game is so fun to me. the fact that the cast changes for each game keeps it fresh i think. and while i do love the gameplay of the series, i think the characters help elevate that too. ive tried playing advanced wars and its a good game, pretty similar to fire emblem, but the same stakes just arent as present when im bossing around a bunch of guys who dont mean anything to me. i dont care. if random soldier in a tank goes down thats not really my problem, i’ll just get another one. but if someone like idk… stahl died during battle? yeah i have sully as a backup, but thats STAHL. theyre DIFFERENT even when they can do the exact same thing. liking characters gives you an incentive to keep them alive and help them grow, and the permadeath mechanic gives you an incentive to actually play well instead of relying on sacrifice strategies even if you know a replacement is coming. just good shit all around. and honestly? fire emblem casts are generally pretty likeable too, at least in my opinion. i could probably count on one hand all of the playable characters i genuinely have disdain for out of like the hundreds available. theyre all just so fun, even when theyre a bit more simple, or maybe even a little TOO complex for a game built around a support system. love em all. they are ALL my little guys :3

26. Come up with a pitch for a new FE title, no matter how silly it is!

i think ive made a post about this once but it still shakes around in my head every now and then. i have absolutely no idea for a mainline fire emblem game (well. yes i do. the idea is that i want vampires in there but thats all i got) but if i were in charge of making a silly little spin off title, i would make it a dating sim. but not just any dating sim: a roguelite dating sim. the idea is that you play as inigo/laslow and your goal is simply to go on ONE successful date. ONE. but for inigo, it’s not quite that easy. you have to go through a few different stages, first you have to get through asking someone out and having them say yes. then you have to get ready for the date. then, the date itself. and as you go through these stages, you can get a couple of boosts to help you out. for example, if you run into gerome, you can borrow his mask. this ups your “mystery” factor, but it decreases your ability to see properly, giving you the “klutz” status. you can bring along a wingman (cynthia, brady, saizo, owain probably?) but they have a set chance to steal your thunder at any time. you can get severa to ask you for advice, but if you’ve been playing bad she’ll turn you down and yell at you, decreasing your confidence. you can pick up olivia’s headband while getting ready, which would increase your confidence. just a bunch of silly bullshit that makes or breaks inigos ability to successfully pick up a date. if your date asks you questions you have 5 seconds to pick a socially acceptable answer. does your date like puns? if you picked up laurents glasses previously you might have a better time reading their expressions to tell. but if you picked up his hat, you look like a doofus and are locked into a harder difficulty automatically. average playtime to complete is 75 hours.

[fairycosmos]

do you ever feel like you know you need therapy but you feel like it won't work on you? like i've had Problems since i was a child and i've been on the internet long enough to research and learn most if not all the most common tricks and tips that a therapist would give me so i feel like, apart from maybe giving me meds, it would be a colossal waste of money.. i still know that i need help somehow because i've been rawdogging life for the past 25 years and im Tired, but it feels pointless to spend more money than i have for someone to tell me i need to get away from my abusive family and ~ practice mindfulness ~ lol

absolutelyyyy ive had this feeling and honestly i think meeting therapists you're incompatible with only intensifies that thought process like.....ive had these lifelong problems and you want me to spend my hard earned money that could be going to rent or food on some stranger that is telling me to breathe through my deeply rooted illnesses? it absolutely IS frustrating and i think your feelings of discouragement/burnout/exhaustion are completely understandable. the field of psychology has so many fucking issues that are fed directly into how MH professionals work with patients. im not even sure i have like an answer or a solution to it because i struggle with this exact same thing!

but i guess what i would say is that its important not to discredit the fact that every therapist works differently and every counselling experience is wildly different. you may very well know all the common tricks and tips for dealing with your specific state of mind (i totally agree btw, the internet had made me extremely hyperaware of my own mental issues for better and for worse LOL), but there is always something solid to be offered when you find a professional you feel comfortable talking to, who offers an outsiders insight. even if it's just getting a weight off your shoulders for that one afternoon. therapist shopping is extremely expensive and obviously inaccessible to most, so im not suggesting that - i guess my main point would be don't give up on ALL forms of mental health support available in your community hust because working with a few professionals didn't work out, bc it's so so common and it doesn't mean youre doomed or beyond help. you will always deserve that space to talk and to feel heard, even if you can half-guess what they might tell you in response. it's unfathomably difficult to find a strong, consistent therapist that you bode well with (i would give anything for one LOL) but i do think they're out there and that there are useful tools to be found in therapy or counselling or even just reaching out and being vulnerable in general. what i have tried to accept recently is that asking for help isn't going to solve any of my problems - it is not going to make things normal or easy because i have a neurodivergent brain and i have truly been traumatised. it is just gonna give me the tools and the suggestions i need to get through the day. and i still haven't found that myself - but i think it's likely that it's out there. and it's a step up from rawdogging life, if not a solution to life itself.

im sorry, i know this is not the perfect example or anything close to it. i myself breakdown often because i feel like it's so hopeless and difficult and relentlessly painful. but i urge you to always be open to accepting help if and when it is in front of you. even if it seems pointless. sending a massive hug your way. X

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