#just this one fucking section!!!!

[arsenicflame]

THE GLOVE. is that why izzy always wears the glove, to cover up the remains of that fucking tattoo???

[inkskinned]

you're in the habit of denying yourself things.

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.

[lazylittledragon]

obsessed with people saying “it’s cool to be weird now” fucking WHERE and how do i get there

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

"Pandora, Worrying About What She Is Doing, Finds a Way into the Valley through the Scrub Oak," from Always Coming Home by Ursula K. Le Guin

Look how messy this wilderness is. Look at this scrub oak, chaparro, the chaparral was named for it and consists of it mixed up with a lot of other things, but look at this shrub of it right here now. The tallest limb or stem is about four feet tall, but most of the stems are only a foot or two. One of them looks as if it had been cut off with a tool, a clean slice across, but who? what for? This shrub isn’t good for anything and this ridge isn’t on the way to anywhere. A lot of smaller branch-ends look broken or bitten off. Maybe deer browse the leafbuds. The little grey branches and twigs grow every which way, many dead and lichened, crossing each other, choking each other out. Digger-pine needles, spiders’ threads, dead bay leaves are stuck in the branches. It’s a mess. It’s littered. It has no overall shape. Most of the stems come up from one area, but not all; there’s no center and no symmetry. A lot of sticks sticking up out of the ground a little ways with leaves on some of them—that describes it fairly well. The leaves themselves show some order, they seem to obey some laws, poorly. They are all different sizes from about a quarter of an inch to an inch long, but each is enough like the others that one could generalise an ideal scrub-oak leaf: a dusty, medium dark-green color, with a slight convex curve to the leaf, which pillows up a bit between the veins that run slanting outward from the central vein; and the edge is irregularly serrated, with a little spine at each apex. These leaves grow irregularly spaced on alternate sides of their twig up to the top, where they crowd into a bunch, a sloppy rosette. Under the litter of dead leaves, its own and others’, and moss and rocks and mold and junk, the shrub must have a more or less shrub-shaped complex of roots, going fairly deep, probably deeper than it stands aboveground, because wet as it is here now in February, it will be bone dry on this ridge in summer.

There are no acorns left from last fall, if this shrub is old enough to have borne them. It probably is. It could be two years old or twenty or who knows? It is an oak, but a scrub oak, a low oak, a no-account oak, and there are at least a hundred very much like it in sight from this rock I am sitting on, and there are hundreds and thousands and hundreds of thousands more on this ridge and the next ridge, but numbers are wrong. They are in error. You don’t count scrub oaks. When you can count them, something has gone wrong. You can count how many in a hundred square yards and multiply, if you’re a botanist, and so make a good estimate, a fair guess, but you cannot count the scrub oaks on this ridge, let alone the ceanothus, buckbrush, or wild lilac, which I have not mentioned, and the other variously messy and humble components of the chaparral. The chaparral is like atoms and the components of atoms: it evades. It is innumerable. It is not accidentally but essentially messy. This shrub is not beautiful, nor even if I were ten feet high on hashish would it be mystical, nor is it nauseating; if a philosopher found it so, that would be his problem, but nothing to do with the scrub oak. This thing is nothing to do with us. This thing is wilderness. The civilized human mind’s relation to it is imprecise, fortuitous, and full of risk. There are no shortcuts. All the analogies run one direction, our direction. There is a hideous little tumor in one branch. The new leaves, this year’s growth, are so large and symmetrical compared with the older leaves that I took them at first for part of another plant, a toyon growing in with the dwarf oak, but a summer’s dry heat no doubt will shrink them down and warp them. Analogies are easy; the live oak, the humble evergreen, can certainly be made into a sermon, just as it can be made into firewood. Read or burnt. Sermo, I read; I read scrub oak. But I don’t, and it isn’t here to be read, or burnt. It is casting a shadow across the page of this notebook in the weak sunshine of three-thirty of a February afternoon in Northern California. When I close the book and go, the shadow will not be on the page, though I have drawn a line around it; only the pencil line will be on the page. The shadow will be then on the dead-leaf-thick messy ground or on the mossy rock my ass is on now, and the shadow will move lawfully and with great majesty as the earth turns.

The mind can imagine that shadow of a few leaves falling in the wilderness; the mind is a wonderful thing. But what about all the shadows of all the other leaves on all the other branches on all the other scrub oaks on all the other ridges of all the wilderness? If you could imagine those for even a moment, what good would it do? Infinite good.

-- Ursula K. Le Guin, Always Coming Home (273-5)

[humming-fly]

Inktober Day 25 - Alpha Gaming

Today I thought I'd go ahead and hunt down that new hedgehog game everyone’s so excited about, since I had a target giftcard and it's been a hot sec since I played one of these - was fully planning to hop on that cool winged shadow trend for the inktober to commemorate my success, but that changed 15 seconds into the first stage when I remembered I actually suck shit at sonic games 👍

[art-is-kayos]

Garion and her newest protégé

[flamemons]

[art-from-the-juice-box]

gen loss dump part 2 :]

i have a gen loss playlist so the last two was me hitting randomize and drawing a pic based on the song before it finished. the second one technically isn’t that cause charlie’s inferno isn’t on apple music cause they hate me so it’s way more of the song out of spite because they wouldn’t give it to me.

[tacit-semantics]

You can do whatever you want forever

[foldingfittedsheets]

Okay so officially the worst thing about the sequel to Ori is that you cannot change difficulty mid game like you could in the first one.

My hyper mobile hands are fucking dying on some of these challenges but unless I want to literally start a new game I’m fucked.

[ghostwaffleheimer]

This started out as a very self-indulgent Sanji drawing and turned into a wholeass ref that I've been using for a while so, uh... here. It's a bit rough but I mostly just needed something to colorpick from and work out some finer details. This also may or may not be related to some sorta weird little AU or whatever.

[invinciblerodent]

he's finally done :)

bonus progress picture that almost made me cry with laughter under the cut

look at this wretched old man

[6-2-aestheticsofhate]

Ultratober day 1-3: Favorite Soundtrack

[teddybeartoji]

ok so i have mentioned it before but i've been rewriting the "i hunger to commit the act of touch" series aka the prince!gojo x knight!reader series bc i felt like my writing has improved so SO fucking much and i just knew i could make the existing chapters so much better.

anyway the question now is whether i should hold onto the chapters until i have multiple of them ready so you guys wouldn't have to wait that long for updates orrrrrrr should i just drop them as i finish them? both are still going to take time though so remember that .

i'm still me so it would still probably take me a long time before i finish ALL of them and so i thought maybe it'd be nice if you guys can read the ones that are ready in the meanwhile yk?

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: WELCOME TO YOUR WORLD: How the Built Environment Shapes Our Lives by Sarah Williams Goldhagen.

[atopvisenyashill]

connections between naerys and sansa?

There’s plenty! She’s very much in a Naerys/Aegon scenario in ASOS & ACOK, where she has no ability to leave the capital, no one doing anything meaningful to protect her, and a King that is obsessed with sexually humiliating her. There’s a lot of romanticism and chivalry surrounding her character and how other people react to her character, the same as Naerys.

But also, Sansa makes the comparisons to Naerys herself, and she does it before she realizes what kind of person Joffrey is! In fact, it starts with her very first chapter where she compares Joffrey interrupting Ilyn Payne & Sandor Clegane to Aemon demanding a trial by combat against Ser Morgil:

A whole day with her prince! She gazed at Joffrey worshipfully. He was so gallant, she thought. The way he had rescued her from Ser Ilyn and the Hound, why, it was almost like the songs, like the time Serwyn of the Mirror Shield saved the Princess Daeryssa from the giants, or Prince Aemon the Dragonknight championing Queen Naerys's honor against evil Ser Morgil's slanders.

She will compare Joffrey to Aemon and herself to Naerys again later, to Ned:

"Father, I only just now remembered, I can't go away, I'm to marry Prince Joffrey." She tried to smile bravely for him. "I love him, Father, I truly truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, as much as Jonquil loved Ser Florian. I want to be his queen and have his babies."

(lowkey she’s so fucking funny for that “i only just now remembered” comment, idk how ned kept a straight face for it)

She then uses Aemon (and the Cargyll twins) to make Tommen feel better and dunk on Joffrey:

Prince Tommen sobbed. "You mew like a suckling babe," his brother hissed at him. "Princes aren't supposed to cry." "Prince Aemon the Dragonknight cried the day Princess Naerys wed his brother Aegon," Sansa Stark said, "and the twins Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk died with tears on their cheeks after each had given the other a mortal wound." "Be quiet, or I'll have Ser Meryn give you a mortal wound," Joffrey told his betrothed.

Again, there’s a focus on Aemon’s romantic relationship with Naerys because that's what appeals to Sansa. But when people say "Sansa sees the world through stories" it's not just about how she romanticizes or idolizes knighthood, nobility, and chivalry - she thinks through information by comparing it with similar historical events or stories and analyzing it. She clearly sees the problem with Loras protecting Margaery from Joffrey by comparing him to the Toynes instead of Aemon, and Joffrey (once again) to Aegon the Unworthy:

She is so brave, Sansa thought, galloping after her . . . and yet, her doubts still gnawed at her. Ser Loras was a great knight, all agreed. But Joffrey had other Kingsguard, and gold cloaks and red cloaks besides, and when he was older he would command armies of his own. Aegon the Unworthy had never harmed Queen Naerys, perhaps for fear of their brother the Dragonknight . . . but when another of his Kingsguard fell in love with one of his mistresses, the king had taken both their heads. Ser Loras is a Tyrell, Sansa reminded herself. That other knight was only a Toyne. His brothers had no armies, no way to avenge him but with swords. Yet the more she thought about it all, the more she wondered. Joff might restrain himself for a few turns, perhaps as long as a year, but soon or late he will show his claws, and when he does . . . The realm might have a second Kingslayer, and there would be war inside the city, as the men of the lion and the men of the rose made the gutters run red.

She’s also not wrong in her assessment here because the Tyrells (my guess is Garlan and Olenna) are so worried about this outcome they just murder Joffrey and install Tommen; like Bethany Bracken, Margaery is groomed (with all the implications that are included in such a loaded term) to be sexually available to the King because her father wants power and doesn't care if his daughter is sexually abused to get it. Like Terrance Toyne, Loras is considered attractive, skilled, and has several brothers more than willing to start a war to avenge his death. I think it's incredibly intuitive that Sansa ultimately comes to the same conclusion as two seasoned political players like (presumably) Olenna and Garlan come to, and she makes this judgement call very quickly!

And Sansa also hits on a lot of (correct) similarities when she makes these comparisons between Joffrey's court and Aegon the Unworthy's court; Aegon and Joffrey both have wild, violent temperaments while being notoriously difficult to control. It’s not just Naerys that attempts to get Aegon to stop marital raping her; Aemon’s useless tears aside, Viserys does do the bare minimum here in sending Aegon away so Naerys can heal from her miscarriages, Daeron got shitty with the Brackens about being tacky over Naerys' marital rape and ill health, Baelor fasts himself to death over Naerys’ miscarriages, etc etc. All of the “authority figures” around Aegon think his behavior is wrong but Aegon proves stubbornly difficult to control or kill. Joffrey falls along these same lines - Cersei, Robert, Tyrion, Tywin, and even Varys all struggle to get some control over Joffrey but like Aegon, he knows once he’s of age and has that crown he doesn’t have to answer for SHIT and stubbornly resists every attempt to curb his behavior. Joffrey is a hell scenario waiting to happen because like Aegon, he’s petty and petulant enough to pull the stunts Aegon pulls like pitting his true born kids against his bastard born ones and causing another violent succession crisis. I say this as like, the ultimate Joffrey Apologist here, lmaooo, he has reasons for being a nasty piece of shit but the Tyrells are right to look at him and go “oh that’s trouble” because he is a ticking time bomb. And the crazy thing is, it’s not just Sansa who compares Joffrey to Aegon the Unworthy:

"A king can have other women. Whores. My father did. One of the Aegons did too. The third one, or the fourth. He had lots of whores and lots of bastards." As they whirled to the music, Joff gave her a moist kiss. "My uncle will bring you to my bed whenever I command it." Sansa shook her head. "He won't." "He will, or I'll have his head. That King Aegon, he had any woman he wanted, whether they were married or no."

Joffrey makes the comparison himself. He's a piece of work just like his hero and he is directly threatening to rape Sansa the same way Aegon raped Naerys and poor Bethany Bracken. He is directly admitting he is "unworthy" and practically daring all of KL to overthrow him for it because he thinks they'll blink before he does (and he is unfortunately deadly wrong in this assumption).

And when you extrapolate out from there, you can see other, similar patterns between Naerys' life and Sansa's, beyond the Joffrey-Aegon, Margaery-Bethany, Loras-Terrance, and Sansa-Naerys parallels. Tyrion himself aspires to be a sort of Viserys II type player (see: "It should have been called the Lives of Five Kings" rant he gives to Oberyn); a power behind the throne directing his crazy family to do what's right or smart or proper. There's an interesting echo in Viserys taking direct action in sending Aegon away from Naerys and Tyrion stopping Joffrey in his assault of Sansa - like Viserys, he can see the monster in the king he is raising, makes an attempt to stop it, but fails because he underestimates just how dangerous and erratic his little king has become. Like Viserys, Tyrion is suspected of poisoning his own nephew in an attempt to get closer to power and the throne (and Viserys, like Tyrion, is probably innocent - the sort of fasting that Baelor was doing regularly is hard on the body!).

I don't think any of this is coincidental or accidental either, because of that haunting scene where Joffrey destroys the gift Tyrion got him. Here's the scene, excuse the wall of text, but it's important:

He plays the gracious king today. Joffrey could be gallant when it suited him, Sansa knew, but it seemed to suit him less and less. Indeed, all his courtesy vanished at once when Tyrion presented him with their own gift: a huge old book called Lives of Four Kings, bound in leather and gorgeously illuminated. The king leafed through it with no interest. "And what is this, Uncle?" A book. Sansa wondered if Joffrey moved those fat wormy lips of his when he read. "Grand Maester Kaeth's history of the reigns of Daeron the Young Dragon, Baelor the Blessed, Aegon the Unworthy, and Daeron the Good," her small husband answered. "A book every king should read, Your Grace," said Ser Kevan. “My father had no time for books.” Joffrey shoved the tome across the table. “If you read less, Uncle Imp, perhaps Lady Sansa would have a baby in her belly by now.” He laughed … and when the king laughs, the court laughs with him. “Don’t be sad, Sansa, once I’ve gotten Queen Margaery with child I’ll visit your bedchamber and show my little uncle how it’s done.” Sansa reddened. She glanced nervously at Tyrion, afraid of what he might say. This could turn as nasty as the bedding had at their own feast. But for once the dwarf filled his mouth with wine instead of words... [Joffrey gets a Valyrian sword and figures out a name for it, Widow's Wail, it's a few pages, it's not relevant here] Joffrey brought Widow’s Wail down in a savage two-handed slice, onto the book that Tyrion had given him. The heavy leather cover parted at a stroke. “Sharp! I told you, I am no stranger to Valyrian steel.” It took him half a dozen further cuts to hack the thick tome apart, and the boy was breathless by the time he was done. Sansa could feel her husband struggling with his fury as Ser Osmund Kettleblack shouted, “I pray you never turn that wicked edge on me, sire.” “See that you never give me cause, ser.” Joffrey flicked a chunk of Lives of Four Kings off the table at swordpoint, then slid Widow’s Wail back into its scabbard. “Your Grace,” Ser Garlan Tyrell said. “Perhaps you did not know. In all of Westeros there were but four copies of that book illuminated in Kaeth’s own hand.” “Now there are three.” Joffrey undid his old swordbelt to don his new one. “You and Lady Sansa owe me a better present, Uncle Imp. This one is all chopped to pieces.”

God I love that passage so much. There's a lot there but what's relevant is a) both Oberyn and Garlan are trying to get a measure of who Joffrey is, and have some child murdering plans potentially in the works during this scene. Watching Joffrey destroy a priceless tome of history given as a well thought, well meant, incredibly generous (and pointed) gift from his uncle is more than enough proof for either man to decide Joffrey is not worth the headache, and please note Garlan is the only person to call Joffrey out to his face, and Oberyn is a few pages later the only person to acknowledge this was a fantastic and kind gift from Tyrion that Joffrey reacted absolutely deranged towards for no reason. and b) Tyrion is almost literally saying to Joffrey "I can be your Viserys, I can make it so you're remembered as a great king the way Daeron II or Baelor are, or a great warrior like Daeron I, but you have to understand the reason why I'm worried about your behavior" and Joffrey does the most destructive, unworthy thing he can possibly do - he quite literally destroys priceless, useful historical knowledge and wisdom with his bare hands, in favor of senseless, petulant violence. As Catelyn would say, Joffrey's real bride is not Margaery, but the war he's fighting and the crown on his head.

All of this to say - there's a lot of parallels between Sansa's situation in KL and Naery's life and these parallels are drawn not only by Sansa herself, but also by several people around her. However, I hope for better things for Sansa than what poor Naerys got - I hope for an Aemon the Dragonknight that will do more than just cry while she's raped, but actually step into that room and defend her, or else give her the power to defend herself. Despite the long wait for The Winds of Winter, I also think it's likely we will get some sort of Dragonknight, devoted sworn sword for Sansa and this person will help protect her, and Sansa will have agency that Naerys could only ever dream of.