talking to preschoolers is awesome bc they have not fully differentiated stories into 'true stories' and 'imaginary stories' yet so you will tell them about something that happened you once (coyote came out of a bush right in front of you and got startled) and they will tell you about how one time their house was full of coyotes in every room 'including five in the garage' and they're not even like, aware i think of the idea that they are technically 'lying'. they are simply telling stories about coyotes bc its time to tell stories about coyotes.
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There's a lot to be said for loving and being loved, but there's a nuance to it. We don't just want to be loved, we want to be loved in a way that matters to us. And that takes a lot more time and compassion and empathy than I think most people give it credit for. It has to be built. Sometimes it even has to be destroyed and rebuilt because of a fatal error as you both grow. But it's worth the investment. To be loved in a way that matters is worth the time when both people try.
In a fragile new relationship, full of unknowns and roughed out connections, I said "ah, it hurts," and my person, trying to love me said "oh no, it hurts? Where does it hurt?" And we Googled it, and then everything hurt exponentially worse, I spiralled into a relativity pit of unknowns and old traumatized dissociations, and then we fight about how to handle fear but it won't sound that deep. It will sound like we're fighting about why it hurts.
But in my now-12-year-old relationship, I said "ah, it hurts," and my patient and loving fiancé said "of course you dumb fuck, you had your bones drilled into barely two weeks ago, who do you think you are, Jesus? Do you want the ibuprofen now or are we going to be stubborn again?" And that's just the way I need to be loved when things hurt. That's the way that matters.
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katsuki's parents are fashion designers, so of course, you'd ask him for his opinion on the perfect outfit for lunch with them.
you've been in the bedroom for 10 minutes. katsuki’s been in the kitchen just as long, already dressed, waiting for you. he sighed, patience wearing thin. "you having trouble in there, doll?" he called out, his voice carrying through the house.
"nope! i'm done actually, coming down!" you replied, the sound of your heels clicking on the floorboards following soon after.
your fiance glanced at the staircase and… wow.
for a moment, it was like the world faded away.
all he could see was you.
you, in that beautiful dress.
a white dress with a delicate rose pattern, paired with red heels. your hair was down, loosely curled, with a white cardigan draped over your arm.
katsuki couldn’t tear his eyes away. you looked effortlessly stunning, and it hit him all at once—how lucky he was.
"so, what do you think?" your voice brought him back to the present. you were closer now, smiling up at him, that irresistible smile that always made his heart do somersaults. "the best part of this dress? it has pockets!" you added, grinning.
he blinked, trying to shake off the daze. "what's with you women and pockets in dresses?" he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.
you pouted, and katsuki barely resisted the urge to reach out and pinch your cheeks, frustrated by just how cute you were. "pockets in dresses are rare, y'know? and it’s a hassle to carry a bag if you’re just bringing a few things."
"then why the fuck don't you just wear pants?"
"they're uncomfortable."
the blond sighed, shaking his head. "whatever."
you rolled your eyes, not letting him off the hook. "you didn’t answer my question."
he raised an eyebrow, "hah?"
"what do you think of the dress?" you tilted your head, waiting.
he hummed, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe, admiring every detail. instead of answering, he tilted your chin up and pressed a slow, sweet kiss to your lips, pouring all his thoughts and feelings into that one gesture.
you melted into him, resting your hands gently on his chest. katsuki pulled away just enough to grab your hand. "let’s go."
you smiled softly behind him. "okay."
you didn’t need words to know how katsuki felt about the dress—or about you. his actions said it all.
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Pauly Likens Jr., a 14-year-old transgender girl, was recently found murdered.
She was stabbed. Her body was found dismembered in a river; a man was recently arrested for her death. Her cause of death was trauma to her head.
She was supposed to be celebrating her 15th birthday this Saturday.
Her family has started a gofundme to cover her funeral.
Trans lives matter.
Trans kids deserve to live.
Keep trans kids safe.
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I will never not be amused by the endless irony of AM and how he, a machine with nothing but hatred and envy for the humans who created him, was so loved by his Harlan Ellison (the original author of the story, AKA his real life creator) that he HAD to voice him in every single installment of IHNMAIMS possible, not letting anyone else take him.
The very thing AM hates most is the one that gives him life and keeps him alive outside of the narrative. In a way, it's similar to how he keeps the five humans alive in the story, but at the same time it's the opposite spectrum of it: the burning hatred of the machine versus the boundless love of the artist.
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