#so i am expecting people to read too much

[realsocialskills]

Disability-affirming growth mindset

Children are often taught to think “I can’t do that *yet*” as a form of encouraging growth mindset. That’s a really useful strategy when it’s applicable, and it also needs some nuance in order to be more disability-affirming. 

Growth mindset has to be grounded in reality.

Growth means that I am always learning new things and developing new skills and getting better at things. It doesn’t mean doubling down on pursuing impossible dreams; it means doing real things. 

Sometimes growth mindset means thinking “I can’t do that *yet*,” and continuing to try until I can.

Sometimes it’s more like, “This isn’t working. Maybe I need to do it another way.”

Or: “This isn’t working, and maybe it’s not going to work. What else can I do?”

Or: “I can’t do *that*, but I can do the important part a different way.”

Or: “I can do that with help.” and/or “Let’s figure out what supports would make it possible to do that.”

Or: “We can do that collaboratively, together.”

Or: “I could do that with appropriate assistive technology. Let’s figure out if some exists and/or if there’s something we could invent.”

In those instances, realizing that something isn’t going to work is part of how we find out what *can* work.

There are also cases in which growth mindset means realizing that something may not be a good use of our time and effort and resources. A skill that is broadly useful to nondisabled people might not be worth it to me, even if I’m technically capable of doing it. (For instance, handwriting is a useful skill for most people, but it’s always been so hard for me that it’s not really worth it. Losing the ability to  handwrite more than a few words at a time has freed up my abilities to do other things, like focus on typing words.)

There’s something powerful about seeing your body as it really is and working with it rather than against it. Sometimes figuring out what isn’t possible or what’s not worth the cost in time and effort is how we find areas where we can grow and flourish. 

Growth mindset means that I *don't sabotage my growth* by wasting time and effort pursuing impossible things. I don’t stand on a chair or a roof and expect believing in myself to make it possible to use my arms as wings and fly. If I want to fly, I need an airplane, and that’s ok. 

At the same time, I think that claiming the power of “yet” is really important for disabled people, and especially for people with developmental disabilities. 

Sometimes there can be a lot of pressure to see ourselves as incapable of doing things every time disability makes it harder or means we need to do things differently or it’s not obvious whether or how we could do the thing. 

Sometimes we get pressure not to try things unless there’s some certainty that we will be able to do them. (And for something as complex and poorly understood as developmental disabilities, there’s rarely much certainty. Having other people’s doubts limit what we’re allowed to try makes the world very, very small.)

Sometimes disability-affirming growth mindset means saying “I can’t do that, let’s do something else,” and sometimes it means saying, “I might be able to do that, and I’d like to try.” Sometimes it means saying, “I want to keep trying even though it’s harder for me and I’m not catching on as quickly and no one seems to know how to teach me.” or “I don’t know if this is going to work but I think it could, and at this point, I’d like to keep trying.” Or, “I know most people learn this by the time they’re four, and I know I’m much older than that, but I’d like to try to learn this too.”

Sometimes it means an adult claiming the right to learn how to read, or finding a dance studio where they’re willing to slow down enough for them to learn. Sometimes it means practicing a new skill in private while you’re figuring out if it’s something that makes sense for you. Sometimes it means asking around to other disabled people to see what their strategies have been. Sometimes it means demanding your right to accessibility and accommodations even when others don’t think you belong and don’t see you as capable of doing things in the space you want to be in.

[rotationalsymmetry]

I know it tends to lead to more heat than light when people do a "ok disability though" counterpoint to these sorts of posts, but I do want to point out that this sort of thing is exactly one situation where it can help to zoom out and look at the issue from a societal rather than individual perspective.

I spent a fair bit of time on the internet before I got sick -- in college, when I was surrounded by people I mostly liked and lots of fun things to do, in the mountains when I was surrounded by natural beauty -- and somewhat more than I thought I should, but it was very much in balance. I'd spend a few hours reading webcomics when I thought I should have been doing my homework or NaNoWriMo or meditation or something, but I'd also go out and walk for a few hours, or go grocery shopping, or bake bread, or play "gay Life" (Life the board game but the pegs in front seat of your car can be the same color) with the Alliance kids, or do that homework I'd been putting off. I'd go on Facebook maybe a couple times a week to keep up with what my friends were doing and as far as social media went, that was it.

The times I've spent an out of balance amount of time on screen stuff, rather than a reasonable leisure amount of time that I felt guilty about because I've got an overdeveloped "work ethic", were when I was depressed and unemployed and socially isolated, and now when I have CFS and am unemployed and socially isolated. I can sit outside for a bit, but I take a while to get dressed because I'm sick and I can't do long walks like I used to because I'm sick and my ability to grocery shop or cook...anyways, you get the idea. Social contact too.

And part of that is my illness -- impairment. And part of that is living in a society where either you're working (or something like working, like going to school) or you may as well not exist, people do not make room for disabled people in society. I'd get out more if it was socially acceptable to walk around the block in my pajamas and a bath robe, but it's not and I don't; I'd get out more if I expected I could lie down on public benches without getting harassed by a cop, but I can't expect that so I don't.

We have a society. That is happy for people like me to spend all our time on electronics and none of it in meat space, because that's convenient and easy and good for capitalism, and who the fuck even cares about disabled people anyways.

(And thank goodness the internet exists, because how the fuck would I find people who know how to live with my illness without it? I'd do what people used to do and just be sick and have no clue what to do to manage my symptoms better. I'm substantially better off than I was at my worst due to activities related to looking at a screen.)

And sure, there's some wiggle room where I can make an effort to spend more time on idk coloring books or whatever and less on screen stuff, and I do, and I can reach out to people I know for calls and quiet at home visits where we talk or play board games but only for a couple hours at a time, and I do, but it would be so much fucking easier and better if I wasn't swimming fucking upstream about it.

There is an attitude that gets all over the place like spilled glitter that good health (physical or mental) is primarily about individual choices and is maybe even a reflection of personal character, and it just isn't, not with physical health and not with mental health either, personal choices aren't irrelevant but they're not doing the heavy lifting either and we could treat health as a COLLECTIVE, social concern, something that we do together and for each other and also something that is morally neutral on an individual level, something that happens to us more than the consequences of our choices.

And we could expect that some people can't be healthy (at least not with current medical knowledge) and need care and accommodation and that's not a personal failing and it's not something that anyone's going to be able to fix any time soon but sick people can have better or worse lives in a way that is not tied to better or worse health.

(Very. Much. Including. Depressed. People.)

unironically tho, you need to fill your life with nature and exercise and reading and crafting and cooking and physically engaging with the world around you. the key to happiness is not in your computer screen, especially not if most of your time is spent looking at bad opinions and arguing with people. it sounds so stupid but you are an animal that needs enrichment. so take your meds, go outside or at least look outside and turn off the computer and phone more often. I promise you'll feel better.

[leyavo]

| I am my father’s daughter |

💖 Dad!Price x Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader

PART FOUR: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help. 2,565words

TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship

Previous parts > [Series Masterlist]

🔈Reader’s view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

You learnt from a young age to stay silent when it came to the adults in your life. Made it easier to get the talk over with. Less words to get you in trouble, something you always tried to dodge.

Silence, your best friend. The one thing that kept you company most days. You stared at your dad, arms folded over your chest as you leant back on the stiff wooden chair. Not quite tucked in under the table, slightly angled in case you needed to make a quick exit.

The shiny new phone on the varnished surface, some sort of peace offering or something to be held over you, another thing for you to figure out.

The Captain however, he wasn’t as easy to read and that added to the weight on your chest. You weren’t sure on the limits, what he’d allow or how he’d deal with something he didn’t like.

You cleared your throat, gaze flitting to his across the table. “So, I can probably find a place in like a couple days or so, a week tops you know,” you said rambling on about a friend of a friend who lived close by.

Not a total lie, you’d slept on your mates sofa’s here and there as a teen when things went south before. You’re sure you can pick up some bar work to help you out till you find something more permanent.

The Captain shook his head. “Stay as long as you need, kiddo. Anything you need your old man’s ‘ere.”

As long as you need, another open ended thing for you to figure out. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome or get too close to him. Didn’t want to rely on your dad, knowing that he’ll come and go as he pleased. Blame it on the job, send you a message to check in and rid himself of the guilt.

“You know, it’s not just us living here,” he said, interrupting the constant thoughts rattling in your head. You know the little voice that’s always second guessing other people’s actions and trying to decipher the true meaning of their words and actions.

Oh shit, you didn’t even think of his team living in the same house. They’d given you and the captain space since you’d got here. You’re hoping you won’t be there for long, even if you have to stay at a shitty hotel until you get enough money to put down on a flat to rent.

“I’ll stay out of the way, no problem.”

Out of sight, out of mind. Least he wasn’t taking you to his house with your brother and stepmother.

“Nah kiddo, this is just as much your space now,” he said, his brows scrunching together as his eyes roamed your face. Like he was also trying to figure you too. “There are some rules though.”

“Rules?” You echoed back at him. You weren’t so good with rules, they normally came with expectations and punishments when they were broken.

Not that you’d be breaking them, willingly anyways. You didn’t want to think of the outcome if you did either.

“We’ll be in and out of the house, no set routine. All you gotta do is look after yourself kiddo, we eat mostly in the canteen as it’s convenient. So you’ll probably be having your meals alone, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge, but add to the list on the front if you run out of stuff,” he said, sliding a notepad in front of him. The scratch of his pen jotting down numbers and words.

You nodded, “sure that’s okay.” You’d been fending for yourself for years, knew how to make the most of the basics or go without. Skipping a meal a day wasn’t a big deal for you. You could survive on just one if you needed to. You wondered if they kept track of the food or if they labelled their own food. There wasn’t any locks on the kitchen cabinets, so it looked like it wasn’t too strict.

“Now, you’re on base. So you won’t be able to walk anywhere and everywhere. There’s a map here,” he mumbled, pointing to an unfolded leaflet. He placed it in front of you and started to circle some areas, blue ink tracing the paths and road. “All the places I’ve highlighted you can go. Do not, I repeat do not go anywhere else.” His voice lowering as he got to the last sentence, gaze flicking up to yours. He jabbed the tip of the pen in your direction, brows raising as if daring you to argue about it.

The look of someone you did not want to piss off. You glanced back to the untouched areas, half of them with no labels or names.

“Uh, yes sir. I won’t go there.”

He doesn’t question the formal sir you’ve thrown his way, the line between his brows softening and eyes relaxing from their narrowed gaze.

“You got any idea what type of work you’re looking for?”

You shook your head. There wasn’t much you could do, a few different jobs here and there. You’d take anything at this rate, you weren’t picky. Money was money at the end of the day.

“Alright, I know someone hiring,” he said, raising his hand to stop you interrupting him. “Three days a week, entering data into a computer. Gotta interview kiddo, nothing comes for free.” He ripped off a piece of paper from his notepad, pushing it to you. A number and name, along with a date of the interview.

The ever prepared Captain already scheduled you an interview. Part of you wondering if he’d planned the rest of your time here.

Boring work, but you didn’t have the luxury to care. You needed to find something as fast as you could.

“It’s not working here is it?” You asked, trying not to offend him.

The Captain chuckled, “nah kiddo. A fifteen minute drive. If you get the job, I’ll sort the insurance on the truck and you can borrow it for now till you find your feet.”

It’s been years since you’ve seen him smile, the curve of his lips making him seem younger. Like the dad who used to ruffle your hair and put you over his shoulder when you were six. The years seemed to harden your parents, your mother’s snapping tone still sent a shiver down your spine. Your father’s stern face, lines in the corners of his eyes and the centre of his forehead painting him serious most of the time.

“What about rent?”

Nothing comes for free, his own words repeating in your mind. You wonder what else you’ll have to earn whilst you’re staying with him.

“Keep ya’ money,” he grumbled, his chair scraping back as he stood up. He walked over to the fridge, pinning a piece of paper under a magnet. His finger jabbing the scribbled mess. “If you need to reach me, this is my office number. Mobile first, office is last resort.”

“And mum?” You dared to ask, still expecting her to appear with each waking day. Least you'd hear her before you actually saw her.

“We’ll talk about it another day. Rest up and look after yourself. You still need to take it easy.”

You nodded, releasing a deep breath. The weight on your chest lifting, the tension loosening from your shoulders.

The Captain turned his back from you, flicking the kettle on. You rose from the chair, tucking it back under the table. He handed you a steaming cup of tea and you settled down into the sofa, placing the cup on the coffee table.

A kiss landed on the crown of your head, "gotta go back to the office, you know what to do if you need anything."

You didn't get a chance to react, the front door closed before you could catch a glimpse of your father.

Sleep had been fleeting the past week, as soon as your cheek hit the pillow on the couch you were out. You were never much of a heavy sleeper, but the rough weight on your forehead soothed the heat and sweat coating it, that you didn’t question it. The cool touch easing your faltering breaths.

You shifted, the cushion wedged behind your back brushed against the wound near your shoulder blade, a groan slipping from your lips. The hushed tones of someone shushing you and the hair sweeping behind your ear, however, sent alarm bells ringing. You shot up, head crashing into the nearest thing.

Johnny Mactavish stumbling back with a grunt. He cradled his jaw, a string of curse words falling from his lips.

"Fuckin' hell, Johnny," you snapped, clutching your forehead and scrambling to sit up. "Why are you breathing over me?" You traced the stitches above your brow, lowering a trembling finger tip expecting blood, but there was none.

Your heart drummed against your chest, the shirt you wore drenched in sweat and sticking to the dip between your breasts. Your fingers pinched the fabric, allowing the excess to swallow your figure once again.

The crick in your neck stopped you from turning your face quickly to the man in front of you.

Johnny rubbed his chin, red tinge marring his jawline. "Thought you'd passed out again, checking for your breath lass." He sat on the edge of the coffee table, wood groaning under his weight.

The distressed denim jeans hugged his thick thighs, baggy t-shirt skimming over a leather belt. Sergeant written across his firm chest. Your gaze wandered to the short sleeves and the way they curled around his biceps. A few nicks and scrapes dotted his bare arms, fading green bruise on his knuckles.

He reached out and you dodged his hand, trying to sink further into the sofa. Wanting it to swallow you up, anything to go unnoticed.

“You’re hot.”

It took you a second to register what he'd said.

“I’m what?” You stuttered, trying to pull the thin blanket over your shoulders as you slid down in your seat. God, he was so hot. Different to your ex, something untouchable about Johnny too though.

A deep chuckle shook his chest, his head cocking to side. Smile stretching his lips as if he noticed your stare. “Yeah, your head. Fever maybe?” He mumbled, leaning forward and placing the back of his hand on your forehead for a few seconds.

Of course, he wasn't looking at you like that. You don't even know why your mind went there either. Must be the fever messing with you.

You blinked, not sure of why he was checking you over again. If you’ve got a fever you’ll be taking a bath right? Or just riding it out? You weren’t quite sure. Did the Captain put him up to this?

It was the first time taking medication like this, normally you took paracetamol and hoped for the best.

Johnny’s touch is light, brief as he pulled away and clasped his hands in between his legs. “Did ya’ miss your meds?” He glanced over his shoulder, the ridiculously large clock ticking away.

“I fell asleep.” You shrugged, “I’ll just take them in a bit.” It’d been four hours since you’d settled on the sofa and three hours ago you were supposed to take two pills.

“You gotta take them at the specific times,” Johnny said, popping the pills out of their packaging and into your palm. He walked to the kitchen, returning with a large glass of water.

Sipping the water and throwing back your medication, you went to place it on the table, but he shook his head.

“Drink all of that, will help with that fever,” he said, sinking into the sofa beside you. The cushion dipped beside you and found your body leaning to his. "Might wanna, take that blanket off too." He snatched the blanket from your lap, balling it up and tossing it on the armchair beside him.

You drank half, gaze locked on his as you placed the glass on the coffee table. Wondering if he’d tell you to drink more, but he picked up the remote, flicking through the tv guide.

“Captain got you babysitting?” You checked your phone, a chain of texts from your father and an alarm notification you slept through that alerted you of the time and the meds you needed to take. forty-six missed calls and twelve voice messages, your ex's name lit up the screen as you turned it over on the table.

Johnny slouched against the back of the sofa, legs widening. Your knee brushing against the side of his denim clad thigh. His hand resting ever so close to yours on his own leg.

“Nah, watching the rugby.” He pointed to the tv with the remote, the match three minutes in already. There’s a bottle of beer in his other hand, the same one your ex liked.

The one you used to stare at in the shop, wondering if this pack would go in your favour or go against you.

Johnny seemed pretty calm though, you don’t know him well so the beer in his hand doesn’t help you feel any better. People are totally different after consuming stuff like that.

“You like the rugby?”Johnny said, his deep voice pulling you out of your head. He sucked in a breath as the players tackled each other for the ball.

You shook your head, “I hate sports.” You can't think of anything worse, a group of men shouting and hollering at a match. The spike of violence when their teams didn't win, all because of a game. You tried to keep away from all that.

The bottle doesn't touch his lips, a chuckle shaking his shoulders. "Yeah my sisters hated it whenever I watched the rugby." A smile playing on his lips, his fingers picking at the label on his beer bottle.

"You've got sisters?" It doesn't surprise you. He's respectful towards the women on base, well from what you've seen so far.

"Yeah, three of them. Don't know what's worse, three of them or that they're older."

You wonder how different your life would have been if you had siblings, someone else around your age to take the load off of you. Another person who could relate to everything, someone you could talk to without judgement.

Johnny rambled on about his siblings, telling you little bits of pieces of his childhood. The more he said, the more you felt like you'd missed out on a lot. You nodded along, lying when he'd asked you if you were close with your mum. The instinct to paint everything good still ingrained in your being.

The phone in front of you vibrated, kept doing so until you picked it up and turned it off. You don't even need to look at who it is, no matter who it is, it's not someone you want to deal with right now.

"Block 'em, don't want the Captain getting a hold him." He doesn't spare you a glance as he spoke, the tic in his jaw pulsing.

Johnny meant well, but you couldn't stop the cogs turning as you thought of what would happen if the Captain knew everything. A part of your life you'd never shared with your dad, for good reason too.

And if he'd even believe you.

✨ Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it :) there might be some errors/mistakes as I'm dyslexic, I do check my work a couple times, but I do miss bits and pieces - Leya

Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @reiluvr @elita1 @tired-writer04 @kaoyamamegami @gallantys @leon-thot-kennedy @trulovekay @harley101399 @misshoneypaper @rpgsandstuff @tomatto1234 @lolyouresilly @madsothree @astrothedoll @grandfartvoid @delaynew @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @little-mini-me-world @exitingmusic @majocookie

(Some of the tags wouldn't work so sorry if I didn't tag you. If you would like to be added just let me know)

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛ… ᴀ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

emotional tension, social anxiety, one-sided attraction?, unresolved tension, self-doubt, slow burn, angst, texting, fluff, coming-of-age, friends to lovers?

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙬𝙤: 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡, 𝘧𝘵. 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘺!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

word count - 700ish

The next day felt strange.

You woke up on Saturday morning with a vague sense of something missing, a curiosity nibbling at you that you couldn’t shake. The party was behind you now, but for some reason, Matt’s presence lingered in your thoughts. You tried to push it aside, telling yourself it was just another random conversation. After all, you’d only talked for a few minutes outside the chaos. It was nothing. But still, there was that flutter in your heart that came whenever someone noticed you, even for the briefest of moments.

Sitting in your room, you grabbed your phone, staring at it for a moment. Matt’s contact, which you had only because of your class’s group chat, felt like an opening. You’d never texted him before, but now, with his number in your contacts…

Should you text him? It wasn’t like you had much to say. It wasn’t like anything you had talked about last night invited it, but still, you wanted to. So desperately, you wanted to relive that moment again, how good you had felt, how easy it had been.

Your finger hovered over the keyboard, erasing and rewriting the message until you finally settled on something simple, something casual:

hey, did u actually read that trilogy u were talking about last night or were u just lying to impress me?

You stared at it, reading it over and over. It wasn’t too forward, right? You’d barely spoken before, but to you, last night had been different. Less of a random encounter and more like... something worth holding onto, even if only for the briefest of moments.

With a deep breath, you hit send.

For a few seconds, you almost regretted it. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it wasn’t even that funny. You threw the phone across the bed, and started putting your laundry away, desperate for something to do. The anxiety, which you had barely been managing to keep at bay, immediately flared up as your phone buzzed almost immediately.

It was Matt.

Ofc I read it. Unlike some people, I am not a poser

You blinked, a small laugh escaping before you could stop it. That wasn’t the response you expected. You could almost hear his teasing tone through the text, that familiar, easygoing confidence in his words.

If you want, I can lend it to you

You smiled to yourself, reading his message. It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t deep or meaningful. But there was something about the lightheartedness of it all, the ease with which you were texting, that made you feel a little less out of place in the conversation.

u mean I can’t just buy books? gotta step up my game, and actually read them too??

You sent the message, already imagining his reaction. Almost immediately, he responded.

Yep, no posers here I’ll be watching lol

Your heart did a strange little flip. It wasn’t much. It was just texting, just banter. But there was something about the way he messaged you that made it feel... real. Like you were both still in that quiet corner of the porch, talking without all the noise of the party drowning out everything.

You didn’t know where this would go, if anywhere at all. But you knew one thing for sure: this was more than you ever expected.

As you were about to put your phone down, your brain already accepting that that was all you were going to get, another message popped up.

Actually, speaking of that book I could use ur help with something for lit. You free?

Your eyes widened as you read it. He wanted your help? You paused, uncertain how to respond. Was it weird that he was asking you, out of all people? You didn’t know him well, but there was something about his tone that made it feel... normal.

sure !! what do u need help with?

You sent the message quickly, your curiosity piqued.

For a moment, the excitement was almost overwhelming, he was reaching out to you for something more than just a casual chat. You’d been talking about casual things so far, but this felt... different.

No response came.

You waited.

And waited.

Minutes passed. You checked your phone again, hoping. Nothing.

He was probably busy, something else having grabbed his attention. But the longer you stared at the screen, the more you felt the weight of your unanswered message hanging there.

Just as you were about to put the phone down, you saw the three little dots appear, signaling that he was typing.

But then, it stopped.

No new message. Nothing.

thank u rose for the dividers as always <3 @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: im always so scared to post shit i actually really like. anyways hmmmmmm what r our thoughts!! also pls feel more than free to send in asks about these two :>>

taglist: @backwardshatnick @sturnslutz @applecidersturniolo @kier-with-a-k @evansturn @bluestriips @55sturn @snoopychris @y3sterdaysproblem @cowboylikenat @throatgoat4u @mattswifeyy @marysongohmy @idefinitelyhateu @sweetshuga comment to be removed/added to this taglist!

till next time !!!

[hollow-lime-green]

hi, anon from "t/b discourse is dumb" ask here 👋 this conversation actually is really interesting and i wanna add a little more if thats okay. (how long is the average anon ask? im not new to fandom but i am relatively new to tumblr and its etiquette... so sorry if this is too long. ive done my best to condense it 😭 there's just too much to say and im a rambler)

i hope i didn't come off as blaming anybody for their response to harassment and such, i don't want to contribute to that. my ire is only pointed toward people who make it their business to hurt others over innocuous fandom happenings, those people who leave dickish comments on fics and send anonhate and mass qrt on twitter. but like i said, expecting those kinds of people to go away any time soon is not really something i have hope for at this point. you put it well: people get so emotionally invested --- and i too Love getting emotionally invested when it comes to fiction --- that logic stops being a factor. people all over the internet also tend to struggle with simply disliking something and leaving it there. you're allowed to dislike/disagree with something without turning it into a moral failure when it's all down to preference and the characters involved are not Real

i just wish more people saw the value in Healthy™ discourse. hell, even if someone's opinion ticks you off, that doesn't mean you can't engage in an open minded discussion with them, if you want to. but people can't do that even outside of niche online fanbases.

i would love to share my own opinions on t/b dynamics for satosugu and to learn why others may feel differently. actually, stsg is the first yaoi ship ive been this invested in, though it's been a while now, and reading fics for them has opened up a Lot of doors of thought for me that i wanna talk to someone about. but there's such hostility around the topic that opening that discussion up to the general fandom public hardly feels worth the risk, as much as i want to. that kinda leaves one floating out at sea here. so i have these conversations where i can, but i'll also block people over simple things. not because i think they're evil or their opinions are invalid, but because i really do just want to have fun, and previous fandom experiences have exhausted me with how much of the same repetitive venom i can personally handle at once

welcome back anon, and feel free to ramble away. honestly this has been a nice side quest for me during the thesis-ing, believe it or not.

if you want to have discussions/share takes on stsg (or fandom meta), then feel free to keep sending them anon, and i am happy to host that discussion in our friendly little corner. i haven't gotten anything nasty in my inbox, and i think everyone commenting and engaging with the posts on my blog is pretty friendly and level headed :)

i think it's possible that some people could get offended by your previous ask? but it's very obvious, to me, anyway, that what you are saying with "t/b discourse is dumb" is "this drama is dumb why are we doing this why can't we just have fun". you can twist the words, but that's the clear sentiment that I think 99% of us are trying to get across here.

and that also does not conflict with empathizing with and supporting people who have been targeted by this harassment. in fact, i would say out of anyone, they are probably most securely in the camp of "this drama is dumb please let's stop".

as @fushiglow pointed out, part of the reason fandom can get so vicious is due to depersonalization. none of these people would be acting so fuckin foolish in person. but across the screen, it is a lot safer and easier to be an absolute asshole than when you have to look someone in the face as you tell them that they are literal scum for your opinions on dick in ass, or something.

over the past few months i have been struggling with this in reverse, actually. one of my gaming group members almost definitely voted for trump (white women... we need to talk). i get so worked up when i think about it, because i hate her for it, especially her reasons for it (she is antichoice). and yet, when I see her in person, when we hang out, it is so easy to remember that she is my friend and she held my hair back when I was puking after my other gamer friends gave me too many free beers (blue moon isn't worth it guys).

one other thing i would like to add, and part of why i'm so happy to post this ask, is that conversations are not sentences. you get to clarify. you get to add. you get to change your mind. real 'discourse' (note: this word has lost all meaning in the year of our lord 2025) or debate is an exchange of ideas, whether it's about dick in ass or how we react socially in the situation of being attacked for dick in ass. keeping the conversation going to clarify these things, like your intent with the last ask, is important and necessary! it's what keeps us from being xitter/bluesky. we don't need to live as zingers and soundbytes on a text-based forum. we have the space to express ourselves fully, as many times as that takes. and i think that helps build back the empathy that is lost with the lack of face-to-face, voice-to-voice communication in online spaces.

so in the words of the great philosophers re: t/b discourse:

any hole's a goal

[cheshireliam]

Azel Radwan Main Story: Chapter 6

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Feeling the pressure of the Living God’s presence, Izzet hurriedly turned back and left. 

It was as though he had experienced divine wrath, and I couldn't help but feel that overwhelming pressure too.

Trying to shake the feeling off, I clutched my errand memo and headed to town. 

… 

(I can’t… take even just one more  step.) 

The desert was dyed golden by the light of the setting sun, a sign that the day was coming to an end. 

The view of the sunset through the grand windows was so breathtaking, I could stare at it forever. 

(I’ll end up having to walk through the desert at night if I don't hurry back… come on, Emma… just a few more steps…) 

(... I’m getting sleepy.)

(I’m so exhausted…)

Azel: You’re in the way. 

His merciless voice hit me  as I dozed off while sitting on the steps. 

When I looked up, there he was. 

The utterly unsympathetic God was staring down at me.

Emma: … I’ll move to a corner. 

Azel: This isn’t a rest area.

Emma: Is there another room I’m allowed to be in?

Azel: No.

Emma: I don’t have a choice then.

Azel: You do. Go back to the castle. 

Azel: Seriously, how can you even think of sleeping at the main entrance to someone’s home?

Emma: That clearly shows how exhausted I am. All thanks to a certain God working me to the bone. 

(I went back and forth between the town and temple twice today. My legs are killing me.)

Azel: How pitiful. I’ll be counting on you for tomorrow too. 

(Does this  person… no, this God, not know how to be kind to others?) 

The Living God sat down one step above me and rested his cheek in his hand. 

His face under the light of the setting sun looked infuriatingly and divinely beautiful, perfectly disguising his wicked personality. 

(... No wonder everyone is fooled by him.)

(What exactly happened for him to become such a cruel God?) 

Azel: … *sigh*

Emma: Why the sigh? 

Azel: I just thought  he’d come earlier than expected.

Azel: That old geezer must be really interested in you.

(What’s he talking about?) 

Prince Azel gestured toward the entrance with his chin. 

I turned my head and forced my drowsy mind to focus — a person was standing there in the crimson sunlight.

???: Your Holiness, I thank you for granting me permission to enter these sacred grounds.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw that the person was an elderly man. 

He had a gentle face and kind smile that seemed like they could soothe anyone who looked at him. 

He carried an air of benevolence, like he was kind and merciful to all. 

(This atmosphere feels the same as when Prince Azel’s pretending to be a virtuous God in front of people.)

Azel: I did not grant you permission, but I heard you have some business with Emma. 

(Don’t tell me, THIS is the High Priest!?)

When I hurried to my feet, Prince Azel placed a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down. 

Azel: Please make it brief. We’re busy with something at the moment.

High Priest: I apologise for interrupting.

(He sounds rather prickly… does Prince Azel not like the High Priest?)

Despite Prince Azel’s arrogant attitude, the High Priest remained unbothered, and turned his gaze to me. 

High Priest: It is my pleasure to meet you, Emma. I have heard much about you and came to personally extend my greetings. 

High Priest: I am one of God’s messengers, entrusted with the role of High Priest and am currently managing the affairs of this temple.  

High Priest: It is my duty to spread His Holiness’ divine influence throughout the country. I look forward to your continued support. 

Emma: … Thank you for the courteous greeting. Please pardon me for addressing you in this position. 

High Priest: Not at all. His Holiness’ will is to be respected above all else. Please, stay as you are. 

(What’s this feeling I’m getting?)

(He’s soft-spoken and has a gentle demeanour, and yet something about him unsettles me…) 

There was a hint of malaise lurking behind his warm gaze that left me momentarily speechless. 

Azel: I said to “make it brief”, didn’t I?

Thanks to Prince Azel, I was spared from the High Priest’s unsettling staring and secretly heaved a sigh of relief. 

High Priest: Then I shall get straight to the point. 

High Priest: Your Holiness, in light of recent events, preparations for the harem are being expedited.

(The harem… wait, what!?)

High Priest: We can have Emma moved to the bedroom any time. 

Azel: That would be unnecessary.

The person with the highest level of authority in Tanzanite was exasperated. 

He was my one and only saving grace.

Azel: Like I’ve said countless times before, I don’t need a harem. I’ve already given that to Enis.

High Priest: Recently, many fake diviners have been appearing in town and the people are concerned about it.

High Priest: Your Holiness showing affection to a woman could serve as a ray of hope to dispel the gloominess in the desert. 

Azel: It won’t. That’d be  nothing more than a diversion tactic.

Azel: Instead of thinking up ways to deceive the people, why not investigate the reason behind the rise in false prophecies? 

While dropping those barbed words, Prince Azel twirled my hair around his fingers. 

When our eyes met, he gave me a smile so full of affection it was almost revolting. 

Anyone unaware of the truth might think I was genuinely favoured by him. 

(... My face must definitely be cringing right now.)

I couldn't possibly let the High Priest see me making that facial expression, so I very unwillingly kept my eyes on Prince Azel. 

Azel: Oh, by the way, I’ve already decided that only one person will receive God’s affection.

Azel: Don’t send any more women my way. They’re an eyesore.

He slid his fingers down from my hair to my cheek and gave it a poke. 

It felt like he was pressuring me to “act”, but there was no way I could fix my cringing facial expression.

High Priest: I had no idea you favoured her so greatly… I have failed to be considerate as a result of my lack of moral responsibility. 

(Ah, my situation is getting worse by the second…)

High Priest: May peace be in the heart of the Living God, Emma.

High Priest: And may you receive the protection and blessings of the moon. 

The High Priest bowed politely, seemingly understanding Prince Azel’s silent remand for him to “just leave already”, and swiftly left the temple.

Emma: The last part about the moon’s blessings… what does it mean?

Azel: Who knows. Probably just the ramblings of a senile old geezer. 

The instant we were alone once more, the dazzling smile from a mere few seconds  ago vanished from Prince Azel’s face, replaced from his usual look of exasperation 

(As always, his deceiving tricks as a connan— I mean, his acting skills are impressive.)

Prince Azel let go of my hand and looked up at the sky through the large window.

Azel: … Ending the day on the worst note possible. 

Emma: Do you dislike the High Priest that much?

Azel: “Dislike” is an understatement. I never want to see that face again. 

Emma: Why…?

Azel: Do you think I would like an old geezer who endlessly sends women my way despite my objections? 

Emma: … You have a point. 

[ Flashback ]

Enis: Without the continuation of the Living God’s sacred bloodline, there’ll be no future for Tanzanite. 

Enis: Even if it means gathering every woman in the country, the High Priest won’t give up. 

[ Flashback End ]

(The purpose of the High Priest’s position may be to uphold God's divine authority, but perhaps he doesn't truly respect the will of the Living God.) 

(Even a devout person doesn't always act according to God’s will.)

(... If God has their own struggles, then how are they different from humans?)

Azel: Don’t betray me. 

Emma: What kind of situation would count as “betrayal”? 

Azel: Simple. Don’t do anything I hate. 

Emma: … 

Azel: Don’t just stay silent. Say it.

Emma: Your Holiness, don't you do a lot of things I hate?

Azel: So are you going to retaliate whenever I do something you hate, because you were “Belle”? 

Emma: Yes! 

Azel: … You seriously have one hell of a personality.

Emma: But rest assured that I know better than anyone else how painful it is to be forced to do things you don’t want to. 

Emma: In order to forge a friendly relationship with the Living God, I’d want to avoid any “unintentional disturbance”.

I confidently declared with my chest puffed out.

Prince Azel, who had been watching the sunset, shifted his gaze back onto me with a deep frown. 

Azel: A friendly relationship? Aren’t I an evil god? 

Emma: That may be true… but I have experience and wisdom that came from being Belle. 

Emma: I know that a person's true nature can’t be easily seen. 

Back when I was living in Rhodolite’s palace, there was a bloodthirsty prince, a prince who disliked people, a troublemaker prince, and a womanizing prince. 

But through facing them head-on, I came to know their hidden values and beliefs that weren't apparent at first glance. 

Once I grasped those things about them, all the glitz and glamour of their image as noble beasts faded away, revealing their truest selves. 

Based on my experience, this god in front of me is no different.

The image of a god I see now is merely a mirage. I’m still far from meeting his true nature. 

Emma: Only after you’ve discovered a person’s true nature can you truly decide whether you “like” or “dislike” them… 

Emma: No matter how unreasonable the circumstances, I want to make an effort to get to know you. 

Azel: … Is that so?

(He’s been scowling the whole time.)

Emma: Did I upset you?

Azel: Not really. I was just thinking that, unlike you, I have no intention of becoming friends. 

Azel: Great job wasting your energy and efforts. 

He pinched my cheek and pulled it hard.

Emma: I aweady knew it wahs impwossibwle!

Azel: I have no idea what you’re saying. 

(I want to get along with him… but what’s irritating about him still irritates me!) 

(Maybe if I ever do grasp his true nature someday, my feelings will change.)

He let go of my cheek, and I rubbed with my hand to make sure it wasn't overstretched. 

Azel: Anyway, if you want to get along with me, make sure you never side with that old geezer. 

Azel: If you can’t even do something that simple, then we have nothing to talk about.

Emma: Of course. No problem at all.

… 

The next day, after my hold declaration — I was greeted at the temple  by Prince Azel looking absolutely appalled. 

Azel: Listen… didn't I say not to betray me?

Emma: … Yes.

Azel: And you responded saying “no problem at all”?

Emma: ……… Yes.

Azel: Then tell me. 

Azel: … What the hell is this state you’re in?

Emma: I should be the one asking that! 

Panting heavily, I knelt on the ground as Prince Azel stared down at me. 

A thick, sweet scent coming from my skin grew increasingly intense, it was overwhelming.

The feeling was something entirely different from the exhaustion I felt after my recent errand run. It was chewing away at both my mind and body. 

(I had a bad feeling about this on the way here…)

[ Flashback ]

Azel: Be cautious of your surroundings starting from tomorrow. You’ll never know where someone might lace something with an aphrodisiac.

[ Flashback End ]

(... This is too extreme of a joke.) 

Azel: Any idea what caused this?

The look in his eyes was so cold, it seemed to cool even the desert’s heat. 

It also made my head feel oddly calm. 

Emma: Now that I think of it… 

[ Flashback ]

Aisha: Good morning, Lady Emma. Shall we go with this outfit today?

Aisha: Since you’re in Tanzanite, please enjoy dressing up in our country’s trending fashion. 

Nadia: We’ve also prepared this perfumed oil for you today. 

Nadia: It might smell a little sweet at first, but I think it'll settle into a more pleasant fragrance over time.

Aisha • Nadia: Come on, let’s get you ready!

[ Flashback End ]

Emma: It might be… the perfumed oil the maids prepared for me before I headed out.  

(There shouldn't be anything wrong with the breakfast since I ate with Clavis and Luke.)

The maids knew my schedule for the day, so they must've also known that I’d be coming to see Prince Azel. 

(There weren’t any strange effects when I first applied the oil… does it have a delayed effect, perhaps? … Do such aphrodisiacs even exist?)

Azel: Perfumed oils are the most basic of aphrodisiacs. How could you fall for such an obvious trap?

Emma: Ugh… I didn't expect the perfumed oil to be laced with it! 

Emma: I've never used aphrodisiacs in my life, so how on earth would I be able to recognise them…?

Azel: Hah? You’ve never seen one in your life?

Emma: Of course I haven't! 

Azel: People like that exist? 

(Is that surprising…?) 

Prince Azel looked astonished, not as a joke but genuinely.

(I thought aphrodisiacs aren’t things we often see in our everyday lives.)

(But maybe they’re common in Prince Azel’s life.)

(... Although, judging by his reaction, he doesn't seem fond of them…)

(I feel kind of sorry for him.)

Azel: Please don’t look at me with pity. It makes me want to cry. 

Emma: I-I’m sorry.. 

Emma: Is there an antidote or something for this?

Azel: Nope. You can only wait it out. 

Azel: But you're lucky the one used on you doesn't seem very potent.

Azel: It’s rare to see a woman look so unsexy even under the influence of an aphrodisiac.

Emma: That was unnecessary.

Azel: Just being honest. 

(... It may be a weak one, but my body still feels strange.)

I didn't know much about aphrodisiacs, but at the very least I knew what kind of effects they had.

My body getting hot from even just the friction of my clothes being in contact with my skin was more than enough to further fuel my embarrassment. 

To make matters worse, although the outfit the maids prepared for me had a long skirt that concealed my legs, the top exposed my cleavage and abdomen — much like a dancer’s costume.

It only made me want to cry even more. 

(I wouldn't have come today if I’d known I'd been dosed with an aphrodisiac…) 

Returning to the castle wasn’t an option either

I tightly gripped my clothes, trying my hardest to hold back the tears threatening to fall. 

Azel: —... I do feel kind of bad about this. 

Emma: …? Did you just say somethi— 

Emma: Wha… what do you think you’re doing!? 

Prince Azel suddenly lifted me like I was a piece of luggage, slung me over his shoulder, and started walking off. 

Azel: I’ll end up attacking you if I leave you like this.

Emma: Huh!? 

Azel: I’ll teach you how to deal with the effects of an aphrodisiac… at a price. 

[absolutelynotclassicusernam-blog]

Anne of the Island Book Club: Chapter XXV, Enter Prince Charming

I’m finally caught up!

I love Aunt Jimsie’s distinction between her legs and her soul. So real.

I know the fandom loves identifying quotes, so when Anne says “Nobody axed me, sir, she said,” that quote is from a Mother Goose rhyme, “Where Are You Going, My Pretty Maid?”, also quoted in “By the Shores of Silver Lake” by Laura Ingalls Wilder, which I just so happened to be rereading last fall.

I love all the different moods November has in the Anne series. I think Montgomery has a different paragraph describing it in every book.

I am very glad that Jonas has a sense of humor. I think Phil has a shot at being happy with a minister who has a sense of humor, but if he was all prunes and prisms all the time she’d be miserable.

And finally, Roy. He’s smooth—too smooth. If I hadn’t read the book before I’d expect him to turn out to be an utter sleazebag. As it is, he’s just too perfect. Does Anne really think he “could be wicked if he wanted to”? I’d think it more likely of Gilbert.

I am, like many of y’all, now reading “The Redmond Diaries”, and I love the writer’s concept that Anne unconsciously based Maurice Lennox on Gilbert. We don’t really know anything about him in canon other than that he’s the bad guy—but we do know that Perceval is too perfect, and Roy, naturally, is the same. I’m going to borrow from Anne’s later description of Fred and say that he’s “hopelessly good”. Of course, none of this is news to anyone—that is the very point of Roy. I just think it’s interesting how much Anne projects personality onto him to match his looks, when in fact the personality she’s looking for is really much closer to home.

(Although I’m annoying myself in writing it. I do ship Anne and Gilbert, but I simultaneously find all the in-universe people who ship them really annoying. In a final harken back to “Averil’s Atonement”, if people were always doing that to me, I’d pitch them—and the person they were trying to set me up with for good measure. Anne and I have many things in common, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to achieve her dignity.)

[turidtorkilsdottir]

Golden Gaze

My fifth entry for Illairo Appreciation Week by @captastra

Day 5: Skinny Dipping/Bathhouse (NSFW if you squint)

Read on AO3 or below (750 words):

Illario stretched his neck with a quiet sigh while he made his way through the bathhouse of the Dellamorte estate. It’s been a long day. Too many faces, too many fake pleasantries, too much wine. Well not for him, but certainly for some of the other guests of his grandmother. Inviting all the Talons and selected nobles usually ended in a disaster of some kind, yet to his surprise everything went well. Now though, he needed a moment of silence.

It was in the middle of the night, most of the guests had withdrawn to their chambers already. Some alone, some with a companion. Illario envied the latter because his bed would remain empty tonight. Not for the lack of opportunity - he certainly had some interesting gazes wandering along his body tonight - but for the lack of interest on his part. The few people he would have actually been interested in were out of reach and if there was one thing he did not need in his life, it was being rejected.

And so he decided to find some warmth another way, in peace, now that he was finally alone. Or not? A sudden splashing sound made him stop, being on guard and interested at the same time. Had someone had the same idea as him maybe? With nothing on but a towel around his waist he slowly walked on, trying to find the source of the noises in the dim light of the candles around the pools. Not long until he spotted her. Realising she had spotted him already as well. Of course she had.

“Andarateia Cantori,” he spoke, his lips curling into his usual lopsided smile. A smile he knew some people called fatal.

“Illario Dellamorte,” she gave back, not even bothering to act surprised, “And now that we’re done calling each other by the name, what comes next?”

Her confident tone caused something in his insides that he could not quite name yet. But he liked it.

“Care if I join?” he asked, feeling his smile growing wider.

“If you must,” Teia gave back drily, yet there was a hint of amusement in her expression as well.

“Oh I certainly do,” Illario said, before he removed the towel with an almost dramatic gesture and kept standing in her view just that one second too long before he stepped down into the pool, sitting down across from her.

Teia huffed, “I certainly didn’t expect to see this today.”

“Oh?”, Illario smirked, “But it’s not too bad, is it?”

Now the seventh Talon laughed. “Fishing for compliments, are you?”

“Not really. I fear the chances for that are rather slim, at least with you.”

“Smart boy,” Teia commented.

Illario tilted his head to the side, searching her eyes and holding her glance when he said. “I am. And skillful, too.”

“Oh, I see,” the cunning woman said, approaching him slowly, “You’re trying to seduce me?”

“Is it working?”, Illario huffed, feeling his heartbeat quicken at the thought.

Teia smiled. Her beautiful, almost black eyes half-lidded and seductive, her full lips slightly parted and so inviting to be kissed, the soft skin around her shoulders perfectly smooth and just a delicious foreshadowing of the rest of her body. Nimble as a cat she came closer and closer, making him shiver in anticipation. He felt her palm on his knee and swallowed as her sweet scent twisted his senses.

And she moved even closer with her face, shifting to the side a little, to whisper one word into his ear: “No.”

With an amused smirk she withdrew, leaving him breathless for a moment, before he cleared his mind and regained his composure. Yet before he could utter a witty retort, she suddenly stood up in front of him. Stark naked, the contours of her body so perfect in the candlelight that it took his breath away once more. All too slowly her own hands followed the droplets of water that ran down along her skin - her breasts, her stomach, between her legs - and Illario almost lost it.

“Such a pity that you can only dream of all this,” she breathed, before she stepped out of the pool and wrapped herself in a towel.

“Rest assured, I will dream of all this tonight,” he said back, glad that his subconsciousness was still able to come up with clever words.

The seventh Talon laughed, “Good night then,” and left him alone with an image he would not be able to forget so soon.

[milfbrainrot]

i feel like i type so much more than is reasonable when i do talk to people but i also don't get to socialize a ton so i just have soooo many words in me and if i'm like, tired or short on time, it is so much harder to restrain to the already-pushing-it point i can sometimes manage ;-;

[egophiliac]

OMG EGO HAVE YOU SEEN THE BOOK 7 CATER CARD YET

80s britpunk Cater is such an incredible direction to take. his Sid Vicious jacket! his little british police cap! I wouldn't have anticipated that going full-on Sex Pistols would be his alternate self but it is SO fitting actually. 😭

(also th-the crown symbol?! the gavel?! is housewarden Cater real because I will TRANSCEND --)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I came here for the silly haha doodles, but I've stayed for the absolutely blazing commentary in the tags. Your analysis of this story is so so so good! Thanks for all the work and thought you put into this!

I am just a silly little comics blog. I am not hiding anything in the tags, no way. Never.

[deoidesign]

Ray of sunshine

(pre-launch page for their comic)

[bu-blegh-ost]

Gillion and Edyn devastate me because they both love each other so much and desire the same thing, but they both at the same time serve as narrative detriments to one another. This is a tragic story of two siblings aiming to achieve the same goal of reuniting but they end up drifting apart from each other instead.

Edyn thinks she knows Gillion. She is the one to experience first hand the damage done to him, and for the longest time she was the only one Gillion was truly able to connect with. But the truth is Edyn doesn't know her brother anymore. Edyn never got to be a sister. She never got to experience being annoyed with her little brother's antics, she never learned Gill's habits, his routines, what he likes and what he hates. All she got to see was the Child broken by the Cage he resides in. A broken child that needs to be comforted, a child she loves but doesn't understand. And even with all this she knew him best of all. They shared sorrow and suffering for years and the Bond formed from mutual anguish and pain was enough to form a connection and care. All Edyn knew for so long was that she loves her little brother and that she wants to be his sister. A real one, not just the reward, a relief from pain that he Has to earn.

And Gillion thinks he knows Edyn. To him Edyn was the connection to the world itself. To Gillion Edyn is wise, unwavwring and most importantly, always right. She knows what she's doing and of course she does. She Has seen things he Has never seen before and he trusts her unconditianally. He believes she would never ever lie to him, she is the one thing that keeps him grounded in this world, a reminder of why he needs to keep going. But just like Edyn, Gillion doesn't truly know his sister. He doesn't know her aspirations, her hopes, dreams and desires, he knows nothing about her life up to this point and what she's been doing, and it's not for the lack of trying either.

Both Gill and Edyn used to hide a lot from the other to protect their sibling. Just as Gillion would be vague about things he was going through during training, trying to make is seem like he is in much less pain than he truly is to spare Edyn from things she can't prevent, Edyn was hiding the truth about a lot of things from Gillion, including the truth about the lies he Heard from the Elders in fear of Gillion breaking under the weight of his trauma after realizing that all Has been for nothing.

This behavior continued throughout their entire relationship. A pair of people who love and cherish each other more than anything, yet the world keeps creating barriers between them, until there is just so much left unfelt and unspoken they feel the need to create more barriers themselves.

When Gillion finds out just how much Edyn was not telling him, how deep her involvement with the Navy, the Elders, the war, everything is, he is left worried, hopless, hurt and betrayed. But the most prominent feeling of all is guilt. Cause Gillion trusts Edyn with his entire heart, and yet she doesn't trust him back. She thinks he can't handle it, she thinks he can't know things and it's better to hide it from him just like she Has always been doing. She thinks it is better for him, but what she is really doing is making Gillion feel worthless. To Gill, Edyn is always right so she must have a reason. To Gillion Edyn is always right, so if she thinks of him as someone who can't be trusted with a secret, who will end up ruining things for her and getting in the way, then that must be what it is. And he wants to find her, to help her so badly but Edyn accidentally created this paralysing fear inside him that if he does, he is going to be exactly what Edyn thinks of him. And he so desperately doesn't want to be that, doesn't want to be a burden on her life anymore, more than he already is since whatever she is doing she is doing it for him. The least he can do is not get in her way.

And Edyn? She goes off on her own, trying to get Gillion home, but what she doesn't realize is that Gillion doesn't need a home anymore. Gillion found his home here with Jay and Chip. But that is not the home Edyn is fighting for. She fights for Gillion to be able to go back home to the Undersea, but even if she succeeds, this will never be a home to Gillion. Not anymore. There is too much distance, too much damage to repair 17 years of abscence, 17 years without him. There are no parents anymore for Gill, only familiar strangers, and coming back there and realizing just how little there is left for him there and how much he lost will only cause him more pain. But Edyn doesn't realize it. She doesn't know what Gillion wants because she stopped asking long time ago, assumimg it for him instead, believeing he is not capable of making decisions for himself. And maybe that was true before. But it isn't now. Edyn was so caught up in her own idea of Gillion and what he is that she completely missed her little brother growing up and changing. Getting wiser and more capable, drifting away from this portrait of a helpless child she Has gotten used to many years ago. And by neglecting to notice him and see him and hear him out, Edyn didn't realise that by leaving she have deprived him of the only thing Gillion truly wanted- his loving sister. Cause that is all Gillion truly needs. His rock to keep him steady, the only one who understood him, who was there on his worst days when the only thing he could do was break down in her arms. Back when she was the only thing worth lasting another day for. And now that he thought he got her back, that she is safe and sound, she Has ripped herself away from his life once more. This time willingly, and it hurts even more.

Neither of the siblings ever wanted to hurt the other, and yet they hurt each other anyway. Because there were people who made them believe they have to hide to keep the other Safe. And it is so sick and twisted that the two of them trying to keep the other sibling away from more hurt, is the very thing that keeps exposing them both to more danger, heartbreak and pain.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Outdrawn

f/f contemporary romance

two cartoonist who’ve been rivals since uni, and now have competing webcomics online, have to work together on the relaunch of a cult classic at the comic press they both work at

they both struggle with art-related physical and mental health issues, and complicated families

[the---hermit]

Not me adding annotations to a book to make it more accessible for my mom when she will read it

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently