#so much was different a year and a day ago; this show fundamentally changed me

[connormoving]

it is quite interesting to me how the feeling of the sounds of a word can change how the word feels imthats such a nothing sentence i mean like oo sounds bigger than like ee sounds to me you know. and of course theres kiki and bouba snd all of this.

[afinestoutlove]

things i love about heartstopper 13/?

Jane Spring. Hoo boy I have Feelings about Jane Spring. This is going to cross over a bit with my post about Julio, so sorry but also I’m not sorry.

Jane’s relationship with Charlie reminds me so much of my mother and me. When I was a teenager (6 million years ago), my mother was also strict, quick to anger, had high expectations, and had no way to understand what it was like for her struggling teenager (unrecognised autism and queerness ftw). But she also really, truly loved her kids and wanted to do right by them. She just didn’t know how, and that's how I read Jane. For a different kid, maybe Jane would have been an okay mum, but no one gave her the tools to be a parent to this kid - the sensitive, queer, mentally ill one, who struggled to get along in this world. No one gave her the tools to parent Tori either, and that's tragic in a whole different way. Jane's parents had hurt her in ways she was trying not to replicate, but she hasn't fully healed from it and it comes out in her parenting.

It's also true that, while Julio is gentle and kind, he also leaves Jane to bear the brunt of their kids' anger and resentment. She's the one making the decisions and he allows that dynamic. It's not that he can't - they clearly don't have an abusive dynamic or anything - he chooses to stay out of it. Julio gets to be the "good guy" (and he is, a lot of the time, but...), while Jane is left to try and carry the rest of the load - most of the load. Yeah, she's not great at a lot of it - but she also shouldn't be mostly responsible for all that. It's such a common dynamic in parents of that age, and it sucks. (I could write a whole other essay on parenting and gender just around this point, but I'll spare you guys that torture.)

It’s bloody hard being the kid that forces your parent to confront that in themselves. Tori clearly did this a little bit, but at least in the show, Charlie bears the brunt of it. He’s the one whose struggles are the most unavoidably obvious, he’s the one asking for help, demanding to be seen, forcing Jane to confront herself and her own unhealed pain. And she does, or at least she starts to. Because she does love her children. I think that’s clearer in the show than in in Solitaire in particular. She isn’t heartless, but it feels to her kids like she is, because she fundamentally lacks the skills and healing to parent them the way they need and deserve. It's not that Tori and Charlie are wrong in the novel, we just don't get the extra insight into Jane's character we get in the show. (Although this little story about Jane and Julio meeting adds a lot of context and I love it!)

Their story is so goddamn real to me. Just by being himself, Charlie forced his parents to confront all the ways they hadn’t measured up as parents. And that really, really hurt him. It really, really hurt Tori. They deserved better. And that doesn’t mean their parents don’t love them. We can see them - especially Jane - trying to change, confronting their failures. Because at the end of the day they do genuinely love their children, and want what’s best for them. But they need to be shown what that looks like, and they need help to heal so they can provide it.

[xxnashiraxx]

New Year Writing Tag

Thank you for tagging me @ladyduellist!! I tried to pour over my notifications to see if anyone else tagged me in this so if I missed you, I'm sorry!! 💕

What's Been Your Biggest Learning Point This Past Year? I think for me, it's been been note taking! I never used to do that, and I have like 30 notes open in my phone of ideas, future dialogue, scenes, etc. It's helped so much!

How Has Your Writing Developed This Past Year? I think it's gone really well! I struggled a lot in the beginning of the year. I started writing my fic in April and only started posting in July, but thank goodness I took all those months to do it because I could clearly see how different it was between all those months and I was able to edit it to my satisfaction! I feel I've come a long way from where I was just a year ago 💗

Good Writing Habits? Note-taking! So much note-taking! It also helps me sustain my inspiration and motivation. Also, taking breaks to work on other stuff, even things that never see the light of day. It helps me break everything up! 💕

Bad Writing Habits? I have to say straying off on like tumblr or something- I get distracted easily and I really should close those tabs while I'm trying to stay dedicated!! Also, editing while I'm trying to make progress- I tend to get completely engrossed and miss so much development time. *sigh*

Favorite Thing You Wrote? So far, Chapter 6 of With Stars to Fill My Dream. It's my bite-night chapter and I am really proud of it- it has all that fun vampire stuff I like, lots of fun prose, some "Astarion lost in the sauce" moments, and honestly I just really love vampires. It felt good to finally write a bite scene after being obsessed with vampires for most of my life, lol.

Favorite Reads? Man, I haven't been reading actual books in a while, I have dipped into Dracula again recently but I'll link some of my fave fanfics I've read this year!

Until You by @bloodinwine (seriously do yourself a favor and read this fic- it's insanely beautiful, raw, and so powerful. It's such an emotional journey, I have yet to get fully caught up, but my GOD just everything is done so well and I guarantee you'll fall in love with Effy)

Not Your Sweetheart by @kittenintheden (again, another AMAZING fic- I have been in love with Ori since I first read this. She's such a wonderful, quick-witted, lovely character that I am still obsessed with, and again, I've been falling behind in catching up on fics but I'm so excited to finally do so here soon!)

Slip Away Today by @ladyduellist (COWBOY ASTARION!! Need I say more?? I am obsessed with this fic- I love it, I love Lady sm, and it's just. Incredible. YA'LL need to read this because it delivers. Perfect, Old West Faerun)

La Petite Mort by @pinkberrytea (This fic fundamentally changed me on a molecular level. Absolutely amazing and so hot- do yourself a favor and read this for some vampire bite fun and to just melt into the ground. Honestly, anything from Berry just slaps)

Hellish Rebuke by @bludazey (Another fic I NEED to get caught up in, but just SO well written- I've actually had to put my phone down while reading a few times just to *absorb* the words and also take an emotional break. I love Lilith so much and fully intend on descending into this completed masterpiece this year so I can not only show it the love it deserves but finally see where those two end up)

Khywren's Kinktober Series by @khywren (INSANITY. PERFECTION. All of these are AMAZING- I've loved every single one and I am so in love with Ysera and her relationship with Astarion. All of Khy's work is top-notch, and if you're looking for heartwarming writing, amazing smut, and wonderful characterization look no further.)

And may I also interest you in the amazing friends I know that have made such exemplary stories and beautiful fics? @preciouslittlebhaalbae with her INCREDIBLE bg3 isekai that steals my breath with its tenderness and raw, emotional scenes- @verbenaa with her lovely Tav, Rin, and her journey with Astarion that I MUST CONTINUE, but Chloe's other amazing works are just as wonderful- @elinorbard and her AMAZING DURGETASH- guys, please give her fics a read- @inkymoonbunny and her amazing Branded Blood series!! Tiefling Astarion! What more can I say? You'll fall in love with Flare immediately and want to see these two heal and love each other :") @badbloodwitch who deserves all the love and praise on her incredible Astarion works and AA fics- passionate, sad, loving- just everything you could hope for! You'll sense there's a running theme of me being behind in reading, but don't be like me and go read all these!!

Biggest Win? Making friends!! I have been away from anything social like writing and posting fics and art for so long and I feel like I lost so much in those years of stagnation. I finally feel almost like I'm supposed to- happy, excited to experience each day, and desperately lacking in time to do all the things I love, but I persist! 💕

Goals for the New Year? Finishing With Stars to Fill My Dream! I'm starting to write Act 1.5/2 right now, and I'm hoping by the end of the year that I'm closing the book on Ofelia and Astarion's main journey. Hopefully, I'll even be starting the much shorter sequel! I have some plans for these two and I'm really excited to put them into writing. 💕

Your Favorite Word of the Year, AKA the Words You Check Each Chapter for, Making Sure You Didn't Repear them 788 Times? Haha, yes- "rubies", "plush", "fingers", "crimson", "blood". Got a lot of those in there, sorry guys.

What Are You Excited for In the New Year? Catching up on my friend's fics and writing more!! And improving on my art- I haven't been drawing in about 6 years so I'm excited to try and keep improving as much as I can!!

I feel like I've tagged a lot of people here, so if you've been mentioned above consider yourself tagged! Adding a few no-pressure ones below, as well! 💗

@vividiana @andromedaancunin @justabiteofspite @nerdallwritey @lanafofana @kalmiaphlox @busy-baker @caffeinatedmunchkin @alwaysmauria @heylittleriotact @vividiana @roguishcat @bardic-inspo

[meirimerens]

i’m turning 18 this year and as where i live that is the age of majority ive been freaking out about it a bit 🤏 a little bit 🤏 but i try to follow people who show pictures of adult life that are happy and fulfilling and meaningful and you are one of those people. thank you for all the things you make and you share and happy birthday!!! hope you are doing well :)

worddd it is majority where I live too and I'll let you in on a secret: frankly it doesn't feel much different between 17 and 18. except now you have to haul ass to a voting booth every once in a while and choose between two sickos you don't like. I thought reaching 18 would be such a hugeee deal and like you I was freaked tf outtttt but frankly. another year another me ykwim.

I feel like the ages to 18-25 is where changes happen. they will no matter what — time will pass no matter what. the person I am age 25 today is both not too different and very much so from 18yo me.

Here are some #tips I have for you. In my great mid-twenties wisdom:

try to eat and rest well. the earlier you get into such habits the better they'll be easy to keep in your 20s, and I can tell you that at 25 I can't run on 4hrs of sleep like I could at 18yo. WHICH IS GOOD.

if you do pursue higher education (and if you can, I recommend it), take advantage of student discounts for cultural outings. theatre, cinema,... you'll be a Specific Type Of Person [A Student] and you need to feed your brain good stuff.

learn to drive if you can. I'm lucky to currently live in the city and being publictransportpilled, but I cannot begin to tell you the pure glee and wonder that is driving, even just 3h30 away, to spot to camp. indeed I think I started being #adult like #forreal when I did my very first drive out 4hrs away on my own and spend the week with my own self camping and depending upon only myself. truly this is where it all #started for me.

^ continuation of this: travel if you can. even on short distances. in-country adventures I know there are some awaiting you

time will pass anyways and any day that you've survived is one more towards being older and it's so fun. Plenty of people don't get to experience it. CHERISH! the world will not fundamentally change between the eve of your birthday and the day after it, but in the 7 years that will follow you will feel to come into yourself. 7, lucky number, wouldn't you know it.

THANK YOU FOR THE BIRTHDAY WISH..... my life does have its ups and downs but by a huge, huge margin I'm the happiest and more excited for the future I've ever been. So glad I did not kill myself 10 years ago because I wouldn't have been able to experience hiking for 4hrs with a broken finger and having to drive myself to the ER all alone and growing up suddenly that one night, I wouldn't have been able to experience gorgeous November hike in the snowy mountains as the mountainside trails are basically streams from the snow melt, I wouldn't have been able to prove to myself I could hike 6hrs while nursing a leftover flu, cramps and a yucky sandwich I could not finish, I wouldn't have been able to find my #passion again and feel my brain be reborn from #learning. And I can do all that on my own dime and I can take the train whenever. THANK YOU AGAIN.... my word like a promise you will be fine in the end; sometimes you just gotta dip to some mountains and eat a sandwich with mountainpeak view. Ok‼️

[paraphwrites]

2024 WRITING REVIEW

so apparently @genevievefangirl tagged me in this like a week ago and i wrote it, put it in drafts, then promptly forgot about it. sorry for the delay bestie sob

number of stories posted to ao3: 8

word count posted for last year: 180,918 (starting April)

fandoms i wrote for: dead boy detectives, glee

pairings: payneland, klaine

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: the manuscript of real people which is unsurprising given its five times longer than even my second longest work. it's not a fair fight. the oneshots were never gonna stand a chance

work i’m most proud of (and why): lemonade & sunrises, baby! i don't have a banger reason as to why - something about it just really speaks to my soul on a deep and personal level. i just really like it

work i’m least proud of (and why): probably dandelion days seeing as i have yet to finish it despite saying like 30 times that i would. something about it just doesn't really speak to me? it was my second fic i ever started writing, so i was still figuring out what makes me buzz, and it just turned out not to be that

share or describe a favorite review you received: (image: comment by newleavesinspiring on "lemonade & sunrises": "Not for nothing but I think this piece had fundamentally changed my brain")

I don't know something about that really stuck w me

a time when writing was really, really hard: september-november was a bit hard for me, because i was going through some really difficult personal issues then, so writing also in turn became a bit more difficult. doing anything at all was difficult tho lol so what can you do

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: chris from manuscript. i didn't really mean for him to show up but people in the comments LATCHED onto him to the point that like i feel like i should find a way to bring him back

a favorite excerpt of your writing:

"Charles is infinitely more than lovely" is a line which has always stuck out to me. it's from this excerpt, chapter 13 of manuscript

how did you grow as a writer last year: i've gotten a lot more consistent about writing regularly. i figured out How To Write Fanfiction as well, which was cool

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.) i gotta say, @professional-lurker-42 has been the most incredible cheerleader throughout my manuscript writing journey, and has grown into be just one of the most amazing friends.

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: god when doesn't it lol. but honestly it's not cathartic or really anything at all, it's just genuine. even if the experiences can be different, the emotions are very real.

i will say, though, that specifically as edwin grappled with his sexuality throughout manuscript, reading the comments people wrote was incredibly cathartic. like middle school me was fundamentally healed by hearing strangers on the internet say that this is not the thing that will ruin his life and it will be okay

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: you can always do better. you could always fix something and make it better and revise more and just like you're never going to get it to perfect. so, and i say this with so much love, get over yourself and finish it. you're not GOING to make it perfect so stop trying to make it perfect and instead make it yours and make it real

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year? i'll be finishing manuscript in 2025, probably vibing through a lot of we'll carry on as well. i also have a few other ideas in the works, which, shortly before i finish manuscript will commence, to "take over" in a way. hyped for those as well!

tagging: @dead-but-still-sarcastic if you havent done it yet?? otherwise anyone who sees this please do it!! im kind of late to it lol

[slothquisitor]

Invisible String: Chapter Fourteen

A Baldur’s Gate III Modern AU.

Chapter Summary: The aftermath. TW: discussions of sexual assault.

Read from the beginning.

Read on AO3.

______________________________________________________________

A little over six months ago…

Liv’s mother never turns off the car. As if she hadn’t expected the conversation to be very long at all. She’d texted asking if Liv was home and could come out to the parking lot of her apartment complex. Internally, Liv had joked that this must be what it was like getting in trouble with her parents as an adult. 

There’s nothing to joke about now. 

“I just felt like I couldn’t say no, and well, then I was pregnant,” her mother explains, wiping at her eyes. 

“Then you couldn’t have said yes,” Liv says, righteous anger rising in her on her mother’s behalf. The story told is a twisted one, full of starts and stops and ‘do you remember?’s. 

Her mother shakes her head. “That’s…not what happened.”

“If I described this happening to me, what would you call it?” Liv asks. In response, her mother just cries. 

Her whole world has been upended by this revelation, and she wants to meet it with kindness, with understanding. Her mother was raped and had a child and has clearly not dealt with everything that happened. She wants to offer sympathy and love and all of the things that she feels any woman in this position would deserve. She has had her differences with her mother, gods know, her mother has never been anything but critical of her. But maybe the distance is her fault, maybe if she handles this right, this incredibly painful moment will be the start of something new for them. Maybe this is where it all changes.  But then her mother wipes her eyes. 

“We���ve had conversations with your siblings over the years about this, but we’ve got your grandmother’s birthday on Saturday, and I didn’t want someone to say something to you about it,” her mother explains. 

What? 

It feels as though a weight has settled on her chest, and she can’t breathe through the slow-dawning realization that everyone else in her life already knew this information. Knew about the half-brother who lives outside Cormyr, who meets her mother for lunch on the regular and knows everything about her life. Her older siblings who apparently already knew this and didn’t bother saying a damn thing to her. 

“Everyone knows?” she asks. Her back hits the side of the car door as if she can’t quite put enough distance between her and her mother. 

“We were just waiting for the right time. You’re so busy with work and you’ve got so much going on, we didn’t want you to have to worry about this.”

It’s a flimsy excuse, and she sees it for what it is in the moment. Other things are said, her mother keeps talking, but Liv doesn’t remember the rest of the conversation. She only remembers the haze-filled walk back inside her apartment before she finally breaks down as her entire world shifts on its axis, as she has to re-evaluate every relationship in her life in light of this new information. 

She feels almost dizzy. There’s a gulf of distance between her and everything else in the world. A yawning chasm opening up in her chest filled with the question: “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Is it her? Is she the problem? Is there something so fundamentally fragile about her that no one feels that they can give her difficult news? Perhaps it’s worse than all that. Perhaps it is simply that they don’t care enough about her to share the real facts of her life with her. Does she matter so little?

Two days later, she shows up to her grandmother’s birthday and smiles the best she can. For a moment it’s fine until sitting at the long dining table she looks around at the roomful of people who are supposed to love her best and realizes that every single one of them have been lying to her. She wishes she’d felt angry, but she’d just felt utterly and completely alone. 

***

“Liv, I’m FangtasticLover.” 

The words hit. She hears them, can almost imagine them slamming into her chest with all the force of a graceless sledgehammer. But it’s almost like it’s happening to someone else. And it hurts . 

“What?” she asks, still trying to wrap her head around this. She’s looking at Astarion and trying to reconcile this new information. And failing, utterly. He’s…but he can’t be. 

“You and I, we…we matched on the Weave,” Astarion explains. “You were Books>People.”

And that fucking app matches you with others you’ve been in proximity with. That you might have met. Only in this case, it matched them because they fucking live together. And he’d known…or figured it out. Or…

“When?” she asks, the words scraping out of her throat. “When did you know?”

He can’t seem to look her in the eye. “You went out for dinner with your department. You mentioned you were all archivists…”

And then he’d ghosted her on an app and then in real life too. She thought she’d done something wrong, something that had hurt him or annoyed him. But no, he’d just been…what? Upset, disappointed? And then kept using the app to ask her for information, to ask about himself and how she felt about him. That was….weeks and weeks ago. 

“You used me.” 

His eyes go wide and he leans forward. “No…no. When I realized how I felt about you…I cut things off there. Deleted the app, everything.” He puts a hand out as though he’s going to reach for her, seems to think better of it…dropping off halfway. 

“No, you just pumped me for information about how I felt about you…just carried on talking to me for weeks after you found out. I told you things…I trusted you with information about my family…” 

She had trusted FangtasticLover, sure, but she had trusted Astarion more. The hurt and the betrayal sharpen to a point, to anger. She grasps a hold of it desperately, so much better to feel the anger rather than the ache . “You looked at me…and you promised me that if we were going to pursue a romantic relationship that we were going to do everything we could to protect our friendship…and you agreed to that…while knowing all this? Why? Why would you do that?”

He looks as though she’s slapped him. “I…I was scared.” 

“Of what?” she asks, voice dripping in indignation. 

He stands then, walking to the window. Away from her. She almost wants to follow. He runs a hand through his hair. “Everything! Of you…of this…of how much I care about you. And by the time I realized just how deep I was in this, it felt safer…easier to just….pretend.”

Because of course, it did. The worst part is that she understands it. Understands his reluctance to bring this up to tell her about it. She can see perfectly the justifications he must have made to bring him to this point. But it doesn’t matter because it’s still such a gross violation of her trust, she’s not sure she can forgive him. 

Every conversation, every interaction they’ve had is getting passed through this new filter, with this new information like it’s some funhouse mirror version of reality. She wishes the feeling wasn’t so fucking familiar. Something snags…

“You didn’t even actually trust me. When you told me you were a vampire, it wasn’t because you trusted me. It was because I already knew....” 

“I do trust you, Liv. I would have told you anyway. I wanted to tell you,” he says. 

She shakes her head, tears threatening to fall. “Now we’ll never know for sure, will we?”

The ache is deeper now, an endless void and an echoing question that feels so fucking familiar. Why is this happening again?

He looks at her and he is so utterly defeated, so entirely devastated. “It was wrong of me. I knew it, and I did it anyway.”

Because he never was able to refuse an advantage when one presented itself. And he’d had a cheat code to her in his pocket all along. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

She can tell he means it; it just doesn’t matter. She’s spent her whole life making excuses for people who treated her like shit. Now, when people show her who they are, she’s inclined to believe them. Right here, right now, she’s seen enough. 

The tears she’s been holding back through sheer force of will finally fall. “Did it ever occur to you that I was afraid too? To fall in love you have to take the risk anyway, but you weren’t ever really risking anything, were you?”

“Liv-”

She shakes her head, stands from the couch, and wipes at her eyes. “I don’t have time to deal with all of this before the exhibition on Friday. I’m going to go stay with Lae’zel or something. I’d really appreciate it if you could find somewhere else to be for an hour.”

Astarion takes a step towards her, eyes wide. “No! You don’t have to leave. If you need time or space, I’ll go. This is your home!”

“No, it’s not!” She says with more force than necessary. He flinches, but she presses on. “You’ve made sure of that.”

He stares at her looking utterly lost. “Liv…please?” 

She’s not sure what he’s asking for, suspects he doesn’t either. 

“Just go,” she whispers. It sounds like a plea.

He doesn’t leave immediately just looks as though there is more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. Because there isn’t anything left. Not really. Finally, he turns and leaves. She stands in the living room watching him walk out of the apartment, and the second the door closes she finally gives into the heave of emotion that feels that it will eat her alive. Some part of her wants to let it. She collapses onto the couch as the sobbing takes over. 

She’s not sure how much time passes, minutes…hours? Who could say? But the emotions run their course like they always do. The surprise, the hurt, the betrayal…it all blurs out as if her mind can’t bear to feel it all anymore. And she just feels a profound sense of emptiness. 

People keep all sorts of things: magnets, children’s drawings, report cards. Somewhere in her parents’ house, there’s a shoebox full of notes she kept from her high school friends. Pieces of a life; proof that the memories are real. She’s not sure there’s anything for this she wants to remember. 

She stares out at the apartment that was never really hers. The art piece she’d picked out and hung. Their books mingle on the shelf. Her favorite mug, clean and waiting beside the coffee maker. Pieces of a life. She liked the version of it she was living here. But everything has changed. 

And that’s why she can’t stay. 

***

Liv had asked for an hour. Instead, Astarion gives her three. He wanders the cold streets of the city in the dark, crafting and deleting message after message. Running through that conversation again and again, the devastation in her eyes and the way her words had shuddered out of her are on the worst sort of loop. He doubts he’ll ever forget the quiet way she’d asked him to go. 

Or the less quiet way she’d told him that his home wasn’t hers. That he’d taken it from her. The way he couldn’t disagree. 

He wished she’d yelled or screamed or thrown things. It would have been a hells of a lot easier to weather anger rather than the quiet hurt. She had asked him to go, had shunted him aside - rightfully - of course rightfully. And he doesn’t need to breathe, but he feels somehow short of breath anyway. Caught in a hellish trap of his own making. 

He keeps walking. Every time his mind wanders all he sees is Liv looking so betrayed as tears streamed down her cheeks. He’d done that. 

He’d been terrified of ruining things with Liv, and he had. It was just like she’d pointed out. In his selfishness, he had doomed this from the very beginning. 

Astarion had known that keeping that secret threatened everything, but still, he’d done it anyway. As if, even in his happiness, he couldn’t bear not having something in his back pocket that would ruin it. He hadn’t treated her any different than anyone else on the app. Not really. The moment she got too close he had pulled the ripcord. 

He should turn back, should head home instead of wandering aimlessly, but some part of him cannot bear to go back to a place he knows she will not be. He has so few places in the world to go, and even though he hates everything about it, he calls Petras. 

“Are you home?” he asks as soon as Petras picks up, not bothering with a greeting. 

“Uh, yeah. Is everything alright?”

“I’m coming over.”

“So that’s a no.”

Astarion glances at the street he’s on, he’s been wandering for a long time. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” And then he hangs up because this is already going to be painful enough to have to tell Petras what happened, he’s not going to do it over the fucking phone. 

He takes his time walking through Baldur’s Gate and to Petras’s apartment. He could have taken the train and cut the time in half, but he hadn’t wanted to. When he walks into Petras’s kitchen, he notices that he’s already broken out the alcohol. 

Petras closes the door behind him. “So, something happened with Liv?”

He glares at him. “How did you know?”

Petras shrugs. “We both know she’d be your first choice for…whatever this is. And since you’re not with her…it can only be about her.”

Petras’s alcohol selection is sparse, but he ignores his usual choice of wine for something stronger, pouring a finger of Mermaid Whiskey that burns all the way down. And then he tells Petras everything. 

He tells him about joining the app and how good it had felt to suddenly be the one controlling that sort of attention. He tells him how he’d flirt and tease and drop people the moment they showed him any real interest, and how he’d let everyone in his life believe he’d used it very differently. He tells him about matching with Liv, about figuring out their connection, and then the decision to use it, to exploit it. He tells him about figuring out his own feelings about how much he’d grown to care for Liv and severing the connection in hopes they could simply move on, but the guilt had been too much. Liv had always deserved better. 

It hurts to tell Petras this but once he’s talking, he can’t seem to stop. It’s like picking at an old wound. Once he’s started, what’s the point in stopping? It’ll scar anyway. For his part, Petras listens quietly through the whole thing and it is only when he has finished with the entire sorry tale that he says anything at all. 

“You fucked up,” Petras says. 

Astarion pours more whiskey. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Petras sighs and sips at his own drink. “Cazador really fucked us up, didn’t he?” 

Astarion stares at Petras. It is not at all what he was expecting. “What?”

He shrugs. “We were without power in every interaction we had with people for so long. No wonder you took it when it was on offer. You had a way of knowing whether she was sincere and honest. You could find out how she really felt without risking the vulnerability of asking or simply trusting. It’s shitty, but I might have done the same.”

“She’s never going to forgive me,” Astarion says miserably. 

Petras shakes his head. “No, see that’s the part that sucks. She will forgive you because she cares about you. She just might not want you in her life afterward.”

And he definitely doesn’t deserve to be in her life. He’s not sure if he ever did. It was a dream. Beautiful and impossible. And maybe in another world, he doesn’t ruin it. Petras is right: she’ll forgive him. And then she’ll take scissors to her life and cut him from it. And she would be justified. She cut her own family out of her life, the roommate she’d only known a few months and briefly dated for a few short weeks? He’s far easier to discard. 

He’s in love with her. He loses nothing to admit that now. He loves her, and it doesn’t matter because now, he’ll never get the chance to tell her. Telling her now would only feel like a manipulation, an attempt to get her back. A tactic to erase his mistakes, to try and make them somehow alright. 

“I don’t want to go home,” he admits.

“You can stay here as long as you need to,” Petras says. 

And there is something of relief in that, even if he hates it. “Thank you.”

***

Liv didn’t sleep. Or if she did, it’s in snatches. She’d arrived at Lae’zel’s apartment cold and tired and uninterested in talking. She’d given Lae’zel the barest bones of an explanation, was grateful to not be asked for more, and then had promptly tried to go to sleep. And hadn’t been able to at all. 

She’d tried for a few hours, but then she’d redownloaded The Weave and spent the next two hours busying herself with the irresistible task of combing through her messages with FangtasticLover looking for any and all hints about Astarion. The handle seems especially obvious now. She had only assumed that the person she was talking to was a tiefling or something when she’d first seen it. He’d so quickly morphed into someone she considered a friend that it hadn’t ever mattered to her. 

But looking back, comparing message after message in the app and with everything she knows of him now…it feels so fucking obvious that it was him all along. Even his clumsy attempts to ask about himself seem ridiculous. She feels so stupid for not seeing it sooner. 

The worst part of it all is how now she looks back at all of it, including everything even after he cut off contact on the app, and she has to wonder: how much of it was real? He’d known just how badly the revelations about her half-brother had shaken her, had shaken her confidence in herself and her judgment. And he had done the same thing her family had. 

She can’t even think about the fact that now she needs to find a new place to live. Not with the exhibition happening tomorrow night. So, she throws herself into it, pulling out her laptop and working on every task she’d set aside, and inventing a few more just to fill the time. 

On their way to the library, Lae’zel pulls her away from the steps and towards her favorite bookshop cafe. “Come on,” she says. “We’re getting you coffee first.”

“But you don’t even need coffee,” Liv protests. 

“No, but you do. You didn’t sleep.”

Liv doesn’t even deny it. “Yesterday was really shitty.”

“If it would bring you peace, I am well-trained in the art of breaking bones.”

As entertaining as that would be, Liv is almost sure that Astarion is beating himself up enough. She’d half expected for her phone to go off, but it seems that he is actually respecting her request for space. She’s almost disappointed. Part of her is itching for the fight, the screaming and yelling match that didn’t happen last night. An excuse to be mad at him instead of simply hurt. 

“I didn’t think breaking bones with included at CrossFit.”

Lae’zel laughs. “No, but I could still kick his ass. If it would bring you peace.” She adds the second part to temper the first, and the offer is a kindness she hadn’t expected. 

“Thank you,” she says. 

“Don’t let this ruin your accomplishments. Tomorrow night is for you, and we’ll ensure it’s great,” Lae’zel says before ordering their coffee. She waves off Liv’s attempt to pay for hers. 

“Are we telling Rolan and Gale?” Lae’zel asks as they scale the stone steps leading up to the library. 

There’s still something comforting about the library, about the familiarity of it. At least, not everything has changed. She considers Lae’zel’s question, and she knows that Gale and Rolan would be wonderful about the whole thing, but she still doesn’t want to talk about it anyway. 

“Do you mind just keeping this to ourselves?” 

Lae’zel offers her a pleased smile. As if she is glad to be trusted with this. “They will not hear about it from me.”

It all feels a bit dishonest going into work and pretending like her personal life isn’t falling apart, but it’s also a relief to field questions and talk about placements and supervise the moving and placing of these old books and manuscripts inside the exhibit. Gale and Rolan and Lae’zel are extremely helpful all day, stepping in where she can’t and taking on tasks to ensure it all gets done. Liv stays late, grateful for the distraction of the exhibit. The final pieces will go in tomorrow, and they need to hang a few more plaques, but it is very nearly done. After thanking the workers, she takes the winding underground path back to the old building to pick up her things. 

She is nearly to her desk when her phone buzzes. She pulls it from her pocket, heart already thundering, expecting the name on the screen to be Astarion’s. 

But it’s Brelia.

“Oh hey,” she answers. She’d nearly forgotten that Brelia was coming and now she’ll have to figure out something about where to put her and Erin when they come down to stay. Shit. 

“Hey, Liv,” Brelia says, voice hoarse. 

Her sister’s tone is apologetic, and she already knows what this call is about. She won’t need to figure anything out. “What’s up?” She keeps her tone light, shoving the disappointment away. 

“I don’t think we’re going to make the opening tomorrow night. I’m sorry. Erin has been sick all week, and I’m definitely coming down with it too,” Brelia explains.

“Oh, I’m sorry you’re sick. It’s alright, it’s not a big deal,” Liv replies. 

Her sister sighs and then coughs. “No, it is a big deal, and I’m sorry. I blame the freshman in that cesspool of germs Erin calls a job. I know the exhibit runs for a bit when my body isn’t trying to kill me, can we find another weekend?”

Liv collapses into her chair at her desk. She feels so exhausted, and it has nothing to do with the lack of sleep. “Absolutely. You two just focus on getting better for now.”

“Enjoy your opening tomorrow with all your friends, and we’ll celebrate you another time. Okay?” 

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later.” 

She hangs up before the true waterworks can start. And it’s stupid because she can tell her sister was sick, can tell that she felt bad, but it feels like abandonment anyway. It’s entirely unfair to both her and her sister, but she feels stupid for thinking that this time it would be different. That she and her sister could be different. 

As she sits alone at her desk in the empty archive offices, she picks up her phone to call Astarion. Does so in such an automatic way that she’s very nearly hit call before she realizes what she’s doing, before she sets the phone down in defeat. And then she’s hit with such a wave of homesickness, that she almost needs to steady herself on her desk to weather it. 

And the only real cure for it is to go home…she just doesn’t know where that is anymore.

[canmom]

an expression of something, or perhaps a record of insanity

obviously there's a famine because israel destroyed any indigenous means of food production, and aren't letting food trucks in, so they're just sitting at the border. not to mention that time the other day that they fired on the crowd gathered around a food truck on the beach, causing a panicked stampede that killed people. 'the guys with guns won't let us in' is not a problem that can be solved by money. still. if even one person escapes death by starvation because an aid org or a medical org had more money on hand, then that money is better off in their hands than mine...

rn i feel very conscious that while it's impossible to achieve any significant change without sacrifice, the converse is not true, there's no magical law that ensures sacrifice must be rewarded. a social media campaign resulting in a few tens of thousands of people trying not to spend money for a week is not a strike pressing demands, and probably won't make a noticeable blip on whatever economic statistics are gathered by whoever gathers economic statistics, and even if someone notices the line going down a bit, they probably are not able to conclude it's supposed to be a general strike for Palestine.

similarly, activist actions that deliberately get someone arrested for the sake of a few hours of annoyance to security are a questionable trade in the battle of attrition. I still remember doing first aid at the massive mobilisation against the arms fair a few years ago, which ran up a hefty policing bill cutting people out of lockons on the main road, but did not in fact stop the arms fair. direct action does not always get the goods.

and in general I believe our people should not be thrown away lightly. getting arrested should be something we are prepared to risk but a risk we mitigate as much as possible, not something we actively seek out. this is something that the antifascists understood pretty well, with tactics like the black-bloc and de-arresting. but the current trend in activist orgs is to exploit the state's unwillingness to inflict bodily harm by putting activists in intentionally dangerous situations and forcing the state to spend and money time freeing them, with the resignation to getting arrested. it's less direct action and more stunts for the media. but is that just an excuse? 'the americans are not what we call a useful people', they say, when the yanks don't want to be arrested.

the gnawing feeling that I must do something wants me to stand up and prove that I give a shit. I just cannot see what would actually be effective with the resources I have available to me. the people who have real power in this situation fundamentally have no reason to listen to me. I'm sure many of them think, quietly, along the lines of that guy at the protest a couple months back who walked by and called me a gender-confused leftist pedo: giving a shit about people in palestine is disgusting to them.

I've signed up to do arrestee and court support and shit like that with a certain org that's had some success shutting down Elbit facilities in this country. between health shit and work, I'm not realistically in a place where I'm capable of doing the spiky direct actions at the moment, but if I can be part of the logistics wing for the people who can do it, maybe I can feel less fucking useless. I hope when the call comes, I'm able to get out there and show up, rather than crushed in another wave of mysterious fatigue.

of course, if a 32-year-old disabled game dev could stop a war from her bedroom, the world would be a very different place... but I must not ignore that I have some power. even if it's just the money I earn at this job.

I frequently fall back to wondering what I'd have done if I'd lived in Germany or Poland during the Holocaust. the fantasy is that I'd be a partisan in the woods, fighting the Nazis by any means available; a likely answer is probably that I'd flee the country, or die in a camp. but the scariest thought is that I'd have been able to get away with 'inner emigration', and just keep my head down and do nothing. cue the daniel kahn song I guess. (Daniel Kahn's song is of course a lot more subtle and bitter in its treatment of the subject, not just this goofy morality play in my head.)

words are cheap!!!

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @davycoquette!

Writblr Questionaire

My lore! For you!

About You:

When did you start writing?

Honestly, not that long ago. I was a sophomore in high-school when I wrote my first short story (it was about a student wizard selling wizard adderall to make ends meet), so that'd have been 3 or 4 years ago. I've always been imaginative, but that was the first time I put pen to paper instead of just daydreaming.

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

I mean, I'm a high fantasy girly through and through. I will admit though, I like writing romance way more than I like reading it.

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared?

If I could impact people's emotions as much as Brandon Sanderson's writing has impacted mine, I will die happy. And it might be basic, but I've always wanted to write prose like Patrick Rothfuss. I can't say anyone has ever compared my writing to anyone else's that I can remember.

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.)

I have a favorite spot on my couch where I nest up with a blanket and a snack. Usually, a cat is also there and being unhelpful. If I need a change of scenery, I'll go to this crepe place a little ways away.

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

If I'm feeling burnt out, I take a few days off, then I'm usually good to go. I'll draw instead, or watch an inadvisable amount of caving disaster videos. A good long drive can also help.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

Oh, most definitely. I live in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. My redneck claims to fame are eating a rabbit my mom shot, hand feeing a raccoon some hot wings, and catching snakes for a living. Thus, a lot of my characters are country as hell. Also, I'm in college for microbiology, so I write about a lot of scientist characters and have a lot of university settings. These things come together in Astra DuClaire - a runic engineer and certified hillbilly, which is a combo of don't see a lot of, but should honestly exist more considering the feats of engineering I see at the rat rod shows down here.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

I'm really bad at picking up on my own themes, but I'd say perseverance is a big one. No matter how bad things get, sometimes you gotta keep walking. Also, kindness. Most of my main characters are fundamentally kind and when they help people, that good karma is paid forward.

Your Characters:

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

Currently, I've been pretty jazzed with this big Avymere chapter I've been working on. Their character development has been really juicy so far. But in the end, I love all my ocs equally.

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life?

Honestly, most of them. I think Izjik would be chill as fuck to hang out with, and once they're out of their shells, Sepo and Twenari would make for some awesome conversations. Djek and Astra are a lot for my introverted self, but in small doses, we could have a blast. Mashal is a sweetheart, of course, and so is Elsind. And while Avymere is intimidating, we could bond over martial arts. Also, all the ghosts are just plain fun.

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

You might notice who I left off that list. Ivander is a snarky bastard, but not in a funny way. He's more like a middle school bully. He'd call me broke and swagless, then I'd smack him and he'd die on the spot.

Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters.

They arrive in my mind from the void. I usually come up with their core traits pretty fast. Actually, Astra's the odd one out here because it took me a month or so to solidify her character. But yeah, I don't have much of an interesting answer for this one.

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters?

Two big ones jump out at me. One, most of them will help a stranger. Izjik and Sepo took in Twenari right after finding her washed up on a beach. Djek spared Izjik and Sepo's lives because he simply knew killing them was wrong. Astra saved Mashal's life after finding him on the side of the road out of nothing but the goodness of her heart. The second trait is not unrelated - they're all nosy as hell. They love eavesdropping, drama, and gossip. I'm not sure why this is, but everyone from Ivander and his dirty rumors to Elsind and their saucy romance books adores sordid tales.

How do you picture them? (As real people you imagined, as models/actors who exist in real life, as imaginary artwork, as artwork you made or commissioned, anime style, etc.)

In my brain, they're just colorful versions of the most realistic version of my art style.

Your Writing:

What’s your reason for writing?

I love doing it, why else? In all seriousness though, writing gives me an outlet for a lot of emotions I have a hard time expressing in real life. So, basically, I'd explode or something if I didn't.

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

Nothing makes me happier than when people tell me they're excited to find out what happens next. Also, seeing any headcanons and theories is like a free hit of dopamine every time.

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc.)

Just... cool, I guess? I want people to relate to my characters and be intrigued by my worldbuilding. I don't want to be the next literary sensation. I just want people to enjoy and talk about my stories.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I also feel like I write action quite well and have a unique voice. My descriptions ride the line between flowery and fun.

What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others?

People say they're drawn in by my characters and that my worldbuilding has a sense of depth.

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.)

I feel pretty good about it! Not all the time, obviously, but overall, I think I keep improving and building my skills with every word I write.

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

Yup. I like reading my own writing. It's almost like it was written by someone who shares my exact literary tastes.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

I can't honestly say I've ever thought about what other people would enjoy, so I guess I write for myself. I'm confident enough that a fair amount of people share my preferences, so hopefully it all works out in the end.

I'll tag @kaylinalexanderbooks @elizaellwrites @ashwithapen @i-am-moss-the-boss and anyone else who wants in :)

[kingpippthe2nd]

This is going to be a Neil Gaiman appreciation post. Not because I think, the internet needs another person babbling on about how good an author Neil is. There is enough of those. This one is purely egotistical, because I have too many words rattling in my head, and they want out. So, settle in and let me tell you a story. I promise, it will make sense in the end. Or go read something interesting. I’m not your parent. 

I used to read a lot as a kid. The library in my town was open on two afternoons each week: Tuesday and Thursday. So, every Tuesday I would go there with my stack of read books, swap them for a smaller stack of books, which I would devour in the next two days, return them on Thursday, leave with a bigger stack and so on and so on. I couldn’t read enough. I loved disappearing into all the different worlds, all the different adventures. I was the kind of kid, that would read until the middle of the night, illuminated by a flashlight, be exhausted all day in school, just to go home and do it all again.  

I don’t know when this changed, exactly. Only that it did. Something about growing up took away the wonder of printed words. Or wonder in general.  

I remember telling my therapist a year or so ago how I remember being able to see so much beauty in the world. How the tiniest thing could spark so much joy in me. Make me imagine entire worlds. And how I couldn’t find this kind of joy anymore. How I felt that something in me was irrevocably broken. She reassured me, that this was normal. All part of growing up. Childlike wonder at the world is not for adults to have. Never have the words a therapist felt so fundamentally wrong. I was heartbroken leaving that session. My worst fears had become true: I’d never find that joy again. 

Over the years, I never lost my love of stories. I started listening to audiobooks, a form of media which I used to despise. Why listen to a book when you can read it? Hold it? Smell it?  I watched movies and series and listened to podcasts. But I didn’t really read. I had lost the patience for them. Don’t get me wrong: I still loved my books. I have some beautiful editions of my favourite books that I loved showing off to people. I bought new books as well. New stories. And I told myself I’d get around to reading them soon. But I never did. 

I used to write a lot, too as a kid. I wrote diaries, though I never kept up with them for long. I wrote short stories and even started writing a book, which was not very good and is now lost forever. I wrote loads of poems. One of them I wrote sitting on a roof in a night gown while the full moon shone behind the church tower. I still have that one. It isn’t half bad. But I stopped writing years ago. It left me, when I left the books. 

Some years ago, my partner at the time introduced me to a new book. Theyread it aloud to me in the evenings. It was called “Neverwhere” by a man I had never heard of: Neil Gaiman. I fell immediately in love with the story and the writing and the characters. Soon enough I owned all the Neil Gaiman audiobooks I could find and listened to them ravenously.  

Within the last year I have tried to read four books. I finished one of them. Not a big one. And it took me multiple months. I had to force myself to finish it, even though I loved the story and the writing. The other three I abandoned halfway through, feeling terribly about myself and my apparent inability to read. 

And then Amazon Prime released season two of Good Omens and I found myself swept up in a maelstrom of emotions and hype and fan theories. I started reading fan fictions for the first time in my life. Long ones too. I started telling anyone and everyone about how much I loved and missed the show. About how genius a writer Neil Gaiman was. How I had loved his way with words and worlds for such a long time and that he was my favourite author. 

A week ago, I had a realisation: I had never actually read a Neil Gaiman book. I’ve had them read to me. I’ve listened to hours and hours of audiobooks. But I had never ever actually sat myself down and read a book by my favourite author with my own eyes. Held it. Smelt it.  

So, I picked up one of the “I’ll get around to it books” from a stack on my hallway book shelf and started reading. A little thing called “The Ocean at the End of the Lane”. I finished it within three days. I read it on my way to and from work. One night, I walked all the way from the tram stop to my flat whilst continuing to read, phone flashlight in hand, so the darkness wouldn't steal the story away from me.  

And as I finally looked up from on the pages again and looked around, something else happened. It was as if the words had given my mind a little nudge. The world was spinning slightly differently. And all over sudden I could see the world as I had as a kid. There are more colours now. Everything is a bit more sparkly, more magical. I can taste stories on the wind, see them in the early morning sunshine. I have ideas rattling in my head that need writing down for the first time in what feels like forever. Ideas for short stories, for poems. Maybe even for a book.

I can’t even begin to express how thankful I am to Neil for giving me back something, I knew I had lost forever. Because childlike wonder at the world is not for adults to have. With nothing but his words printed on paper he remade the way I see the world. If that isn’t some kind of magic, then I don’t know what could be. And who wants to be an adult anyway.

[signalwatch]

Women's World Cup 2023 Starts

Sport is funny.  If you are paying attention to a sport, it can appear everywhere.  But the minute you tune out, it's just a thing that exists that occasionally enters your line of sight.  

I don't watch NFL or NBA anymore.  NBA made itself too hard to watch via their TV strategy, and if I'm going to spend one day a weekend watching football, it's going to be college ball. But y'all know I also spend a ridiculous amount of time watching the Cubs and now Austin FC.  

Way back in '99, I somehow got wrapped up in watching Women's World Cup.  And, honestly, it's hard to top the excitement of that WWC win.  But I don't really even remember how I tuned in, I just remember being very onboard watching the team playing a sport I fundamentally didn't understand except for "ball goes in net gets you points".  

It's not that I didn't play soccer as a kid.  We all did.  But the rules for kids were different, and I played defense, so the "strategy", such as it was, was to stop whomever was driving the goal from doing so.  It wasn't brain surgery.  But once you start watching soccer a lot, you realize how *hard* this game is, how much strategy is in play as an absolute constant.   But I also know and understand how to folks watching, it can just look like 20-odd people in matching shirts running around a field of grass.     

Anyway, I've watched some or part of the Women's World Cup since 1999 every four years.  I've tried to watch the National Women's Soccer League with minimal success inbetween, mostly because coverage was spotty, and we had no local team for me to follow.  But...  then I got Paramount+ recently to watch my crew on Star Trek: Strange New Worlds and found out NWSL is on Paramount.  Horrible timing for 2023, as I was only going to gear up for the World Cup, but now I know!  Also, I need to pick a team, I guess, til Austin gets one.

ALSO:  Austin's Q2 stadium is only occupied every other week, and is a great stadium, and, I'm just saying...  we could use a team.  

Because, honestly, having a team to care about changes everything.  I knew nothing about MLS four years ago, soccer culture, etc...  and now it does take up a part of my life that the Houston Rockets, San Antonio Spurs, Phoenix Suns, Packers, Cowboys and other teams and sports once occupied.  I can't dedicate the time to it of the serious or hardcore fans, but I am following the team, fan groups and whatnot, and watch most matches either live or as soon as I get home.

And, I have been tracking what news I could cobble together on the USWMNT, pretty much following the end of the last World Cup, through the (wildly misogynistic) pay discrepancy lawsuits, team selection and watched some matches this year - you'll note how many movies I've been watching has dropped a *lot* as sport fills in the spots.

Anyway - the World Cup has started, and I've been watching matches.  They're showing on Fox Sports in English, and the coverage is honestly really good.  If you can tolerate Alexei Lalas.  Which I cannot.  But I persevere. 

The US looked pretty good in their first match versus a Vietnam that looked insane out there, and I think nerves got in the way of better play.  We have 14 players who were not on the last squad.  But we do have some key veterans (Crystal Dunn, Megan Rapinoe, Rose Lavelle, Julie Ertz, Alex Morgan etc...) and I expect we'll settle in next match.  

This is the push for a third World Cup title for the US, and it's easy to say "well, US programs for young women are way ahead of the rest of the world, of course we'll do well" but NO.  I mean, yes, it's true.  But it's also true everyone else is catching up.  China has been good for years, Japan won a while back.  And I'd argue England looks like a problem for our team.  

The competition should be tough, and from what I'm seeing, the play is really good.  

Anyway - I don't know if I can get folks to watch something they otherwise wouldn't - but the next match is Wednesday the 26th against the Netherlands.  It should be well worth your time.  And keep in mind, soccer matches are about 2 hours all told, so you won't lose your full evening.

https://ift.tt/nEJILw4

from The Signal Watch https://ift.tt/uGF9DQO

[astraphone]

Empress, Hierophant and Lovers for the rook asks!

The Empress: What does family mean for Rook? okay, i haven't fleshed out anya's family much--i know they loved each other, but she also hasn't seen them since she was exiled ten years ago. i think they still write when they can, and it's sort of a "we all know we'll never see each other again but we wish you the best, wherever you are" situation.

the people she considers closest to family these days are evka and antoine and, given time, the veilguard. i think the reason she gets as close as she does with those specific people is that they see all the messy parts of who she is--she's intense, she never keeps her mouth shut, she thinks she's always right--and they love her still. so i think family, to anya, really looks like "the people who see me for all that i am and love me anyway".

The Hierophant: Is Rook religious? How do they feel about the religious organizations that impact their life the most?

she doesn't consider herself religious--she'd say she's 'devoted'. which surfacers might argue is the same thing, but to her there's a distinction. when she lived in orzammar, she had an excellent stone sense, and found great comfort in that--in knowing she'd always be able to find her way in the dark. but she doesn't readily accept the explanation orzammar offers for what the stone is. she believes it's something important, but has always wanted to better understand what. (this is why learning about the titans is so fascinating, and also worth torching her entire career and life for.)

so she has a different relationship with the stone than a lot of orzammar does, but it's still very much a relationship. these days there's an undertone of bitterness surrounding the whole thing--she was devastated to feel like she lost that connection when she was exiled, and it definitely stings to watch harding develop a connection that she feels she's been cut off from (and, though she'd never say this out loud, that she feels like she deserves).

The Lovers: Who is your Rook's most significant relationship within the Veilguard? How do they help Rook feel seen and understood?

anya and neve immediately clicked as two very driven, intelligent women who ask a lot of questions, poke at things they've been told they shouldn't poke at, and have complicated but devoted relationships to what they consider home (the grey wardens, in anya's case). plus "extremely competent, somewhat obsessive women" are pretty much exactly anya's type.

the flirtation they had going on stopped after anya saved treviso, and for a while anya figured that was that. she knows all the weird, bitter feelings that come along with losing things, no matter how irrational they might be, and doesn't hold it against neve for being angry. but they get closer again after weisshaupt--they've both lost so much at that point, neither of them really sees the point in losing another good thing.

neve & anya just get each other on a fundamental level, i think. able to pull each other out of 'i've been locked into this case and/or research project for several days and have forgotten to eat or sleep" mode when necessary but also able to empathize with it. neve feels like a safe harbor when everything else is sad and scary and just too much. there's a lot of comfort in feeling like they can always be honest with each other, like they'll put in the work to show up for each other even when it's hard.

(also honorable mention for davrin and bellara, who are probably anya's two closest friends besides neve. davrin because comrade-in-arms, two devoted wardens trying to navigate what that means when all the rules are changing. bellara because absolute nerd buddies who are always willing to listen to each other ramble.)

[clarazorel]

So I don't usually do this because I'm a firm believer in letting people enjoy things but I've just seen the worst film in the history of films and if I don't scream about it on the internet I'm going to spontaneously combust. The film in question ? Vita & Virginia (2018)

So first, a little bit of context, because it is ironic really that I first got interested in Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West's story because of that godforsacken film. I saw an add for it on the subway, thought "looks gay, I'm in" and upon doing a little bit of research realised that : not only these were real people, but it was Virginia as in Virginia WOOLF and I love finding out about historical sapphics.

Anyway, I proceeded to just not see the film, as one does, but Vita & Virginia stayed in a corner of my mind and one day I stumbled over a book of their letters with a foreword by Alison Bechdel which I impulsively bought and read and it changed something in me that I still can't quite pinpoint.

Since I first realised I was gay, some twelve years ago, I have been consuming sapphic things at a truly frightening speed, be it tv shows or fanfic or the occasional book (not always well written), but it's different when it's real people, it's different when you can pick up a copy of Orlando by Virginia Woolf (which I have to shamefully admit I've yet to read) and it's dedicated to Vita, it's different when it's real, tangible people that remind you that actually, yes, we've always been here.

I've only read that book, the letters, once, but it occupies a permanent spot in my mind, I think about it often. And when I say I think about it, I don't mean the very real romance between Vita & Virginia, but their decades long friendship too, the words they wrote to each other, the "I try to invent you for myself," the "most of all I wish that you were well, even if I were not to benefit," the "it might seem strange, at first sight, that I should have talked of you so little, having thought of you so much," the "but there is too much to say [...] and it all reduces itself to the perfectly simple thing that I wish you were here," the "the corner of the sofa where you sat is haunted for me by your presence, the whole flat seems full of you," the "yes yes yes I do like you. I am afraid to write the stronger word," and the truly devastating string of words that have altered who I am on a fundamental level "my friendship with Vita is over. Not with a quarrel, not with a bang, but as ripe fruit falls [...] and there is no bitterness, and no disillusion, only a certain emptiness." (They still wrote to each other for 5 years afterward until Virginia's death)

All that to say that the film absolutely fails at capturing any of this in a way that might be comical if I weren't so angry about it. And I know it's a difficult thing to do because what we know of Vita & Virginia largely comes from their letters and, as Alison Bechdel writes in the foreword : "these letters are so intoxicating that when Vita finally returns to England, it's anticlimatic. But of course that's the nature of an epistolary narrative. The thing the reader most wants [...] that's where the writing stops," but I still think there would have been a way to do this that didn't suck.

Vita & Virginia write to each other a lot in the film, but they've chosen the most random passages and they are read aloud (with the actresses staring blankly in the camera) with so little passion that it's impossible to feel anything at all. In fact, the film lacks passion in its entirety, the romance falls flat, the characters themselves are flat, and they've made that bizarre decision of having Vita & Virginia fully quote lines from the letters to each other during actual conversations in a way that somehow manages to strip the words of their meaning (it's very different to write to someone from whom you're appart "I have a million things, not so much to say, as to sink into you," and to say it to them in a poorly lit room in the flattest possible tone).

I ended up pausing the film halfway through to check what other people thought of it and it turns out it's adapted from a play from 1992 which might explain why the characters are alway talking like they're on a stage but doesn't explain why someone decided to adapt this instead of writing something new (and better !).

If the people who made this film really are interested in Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West's story, there are many more ways to tell it. Start by going back to the letters, think about what you would feel if someone wrote to you "never do I leave you without thinking it's for the last time," and make a better film.

[thedaveandkimmershow]

It's Linzy's birthday today and what I shall forthrightly and adamantly avoid is to post pictures of when she was a newborn or when she was a kid.

She's 26 years old, for crying out loud. I shoulda stopped doing that more than a decade ago. 😐

I shall also forthrightly and adamantly avoid making today about the missus 'n me. Because, you know, we've got stories. Stories that are still easily accessible right at the tips of our fingers kinds of stories.

I could tell you one right now about the day Linzy was born...

But I'm not gonna.

Instead, I'll point out how we still feel what our twenties were like. And we can very much see through Linzy's eyes what they're like right now.

In many ways, her twenties and our twenties aren't that different. At the same time, they're nothing like each other. They couldn't be more different.

By which I mean to say that the fundamentals of being a twenty-something haven't changed whilst the environment in which present day twenty-somethings exist is breathtakingly, profoundly different.

Profoundly different.

They're basically living a reboot.

As if the cast of a Western film classic like "High Noon" was reimagined into the middle of a Science Fiction classic like "Blade Runner".

Same people.

Wildly different environment.

And oh yes. They're also living a fiercely different story.

If you don't believe me, God. Just look around. Because this, all around us, is a fiercely different story.

So when we say we're proud of our daughter... it's because we know her story.

From Day 1.

We know her, we know her story, we know the cast of characters who've taken the stage with her (all manner of heroes and villains), and we know the world she's navigating.

And yes.

We remember the twenty-something gig.

So when we say we're proud of her, we say that with the full knowledge of having done the twenty-something gig and recognizing what that's like today. Right now.

This very moment.

With that in mind, we're impressed as hell by her relentless pursuit of her music career. Her dreams. We're impressed by the unimaginable work that goes into being in two successful bands and performing to packed audiences. In fact, by this time next month, one of those bands, The Little Lies, will have performed in front of an arena filled by a crowd of thousands at a Kraken game.

Did not, by the way, see that coming.

Really did not.

In many ways, we're still her first audience for song demos. At least we like to think we are.

We're probably nine and ten on the list 'cause she's got a lot of friends who are professionals in the local music community.

Aside from those demos, I thoroughly enjoy kicking ideas around with her when it comes to her Dream Patrol brand, the wing of her creativity reserved for the techno/pop/cinematic/layered vibe she does so well. It's also a completely engaging exercise to talk about the difference between one of her songs produced as a Linzy Collins production versus a Dream Patrol production. And then imagining what a live Dream Patrol show looks like.

It's her future actively being written before our very eyes.

You know?

Linzy's always been a hard worker which, I admit, I hate how that doesn't sound like one of those cool things of which to be proud. But in Linzy's case, from learning to play the piano, the guitar, the clarinet, the trombone, the cello... to interior and exterior house painting to filing to spreadsheets to high-end home cleaning with an agency... to putting bands together to the DIY nature of being a band in the PNW handling everything from songwriting to arranging to producing to recording to sound mixing to cover art to marketing and promoting and rehearsing and rehearsing and...

Rehearsing.

Maybe "hard worker" isn't the way to put it. Maybe "relentless master of her pursuits" works a little better.

Okay. A lot better. 😁

Because while she has the whatever it is people have inside them that keeps then going... she also has the bandwidth, the intellect, the emotional IQ, the verbal skills, the professional vibe, the work ethic, and the sheer creative prowess to prevail at something that was barely a dream once upon a time that's now an actual, paying, honest-to-God career with plenty of success behind her and plenty of room above her to keep reaching ever upward propelled there by her solo work, her band work, her Dream Patrol work, her production and songwriting services, and so on.

All that atop the reality of living in a major urban center, in her twenties, in today's world.

The challenges are intimidating, of course. I won't lie. They're suffocating, sometimes demoralizing at times. Not just for her but for anyone pursuing the life she's choosing, this passion she's following, this craft she's absolutely mastering alongside the community of professional musicians she calls friends, collaborators, bandmates, and badass gifted artists.

It's a helluva thing to watch, this life she's challenging, this career she's building. And yes yes yes. Of course we're proud. Of course.

But it's also exciting as hell.

☺️😎🤯🥳❤️

[pokimoko]

One year ago today, The Goldfish (Moon Knight) gave me Problems (brainrot).

[deoidesign]

Two things

Any tips for line work?

Any tips for drawing eyes?

You’ve got a killer style for that and I struggle for things like that, so was wondering what you do for that and have any advice for a young artist? Also Steve is gender goals and me and him have the same haircut which makes me happy. Comics with an older queer character are nice, makes me happy to see someone like me get to get older like that :]

This ended up really long, sorry...

"Style" is really just an amalgamation of every decision an artist makes. When you're starting to learn, your brain is processing a LOT on the technical and fundamental side. In time, these will become tools for you to use as you please.

Your style is in you already, I assure you. It's the clothes you love, your favorite color, the season that makes you comfy... Art is a form of communication, and the first person you have to learn to communicate with is yourself. It's a lifelong process of growth, self love, and personal expression. It's nothing to rush!

these are from 2011, 2016, and 2023!

(13, 18, and 25 years old)

You can see how my skills have evolved, but my tastes are rather much the same. I've still got an absolute ton to learn.

When it comes to lineart, if you find yourself regularly struggling with "losing energy from the sketch", then making your lineart thicker might be a solution; thicker lines are a lot more forgiving!

This is a common issue many artists struggle with. It happens because the sketch has multiple lines, so the brain gets to choose which one it likes most. When you do lineart that choice isn't up to the brain, so it's not tricking itself to seeing all its favorite lines anymore.

Lineart can also help you define depth. Generally speaking, thicker lines tend to be on closer objects, and further away objects have thinner lines. You'll also lose more and more detail (and sometimes edges) the further away an object gets.

It can also define light in your lines. solid blacks can block out entire sections of shadow. Another option is hatching, and another is stippling. It doesn't have to define light, though, many styles define their light through various other shading methods.

My biggest tip for lineart is to practice "line confidence." fill a sketchbook page with lines that span the entire length of the page, evenly distanced, as straight as you can, without lifting the pen. Do this every day. Fill a page with ellipses, fill a page with circles. Do this every day. Eventually, you'll learn to 1: draw with your entire arm, which will save you a lot of quite literal pain in the future, and 2: you'll be able to draw the right line the first time more often, which will save you time and frustration!

I didn't have an example offhand so I did this to show what I mean, but I highly suggest doing this on paper in ink and not on the computer, if you can.

When it comes to eyes, definitely look lots to real people, and also pay attention to how artists stylize them! There's generally 4 main things to keep in mind:

1: the top lid. This one is major for defining the expression, so it changes a lot depending on context.

2: the bottom lid! this one doesn't move nearly as much.

Each lid has a vertex, and changing where the relative high and low points are on them between characters can change a lot about what the eyes are saying.

3: the sclera (whites of the eyes), iris (color of the eyes), and pupil (the hole we see out of)! These change an absolute TON based on style.

4: the eyelid!

and here's me just moving each of the elements around! it changes a lot about what the eye is saying as you change each element, play around with them! try not to always go with your first choices.

There's a lot more to eyes than this, and a lot more to lineart as well... but I hope this is something of a starting point! Getting better about art is about learning to think and study everything you see. I genuinely see the world differently than I did 10 years ago, and I'm much happier for it (and a much better artist!)

And when it comes to writing stories about queer characters who get to be older and still happy, I hope to someday see you making stories that bring someone the same sense of comfort you had reading my work. I hope it someday becomes normalized, mundane even. And I know it starts with people like you deciding it's important! We're here, we've always been here, and we're not going anywhere.

Best of luck on your artistic journey, I wish you a long lifetime of growing closer to yourself through your art.

[slightlyaggressiveaffirmations]

So, Slightly Aggressive Affirmer, what's your whole deal?

Great question, Clive.

(Sorry, I thought you were some sort of chat show host called Clive. Let me readjust my worldview)

Great question, friends. Why did I write Aggressive Affirmations in a consistently reliable, ritual manner for 5 years and then stop doing it and constantly keep coming back and promising to start again and never making good on it?

Well. There are actually 3 answers to that question.

.

Answer #1

To begin with, let's reposition our worldview - just as we did with Clive. Now, let's change the way we see me, The Slightly Aggressive Affirmer. What if we put a new filter over me - we'll call it the "Autism Filter". I haven't got the money to go through the diagnosis process but it's looking pretty likely.

With that filter on, look again at my being absolutely focused on writing affirmations for 5 years and then stopping to suddenly focus obsessively on my research work for the next 2 or 3 - except for the two months I took off to sit on the porch every single day and write a medieval romance novel.

Now I want to get back into affirming again and I try to - I still feel it's important and I keep saying to myself I'll do it - but I just don't have that obsessive drive to do it anymore.

I think if we look at this with the autism filter, it starts to paint a pretty clear picture of what might be going on here...

.

Answer #2

It became more and more difficult, and more high stakes to write affirmations, as the number of followers kept growing. There are now 15000 - although who knows how many of you are still on Tumblr? But that's a lot of responsibility and it became very stressful to keep making sure SAAs are for everyone and that no one feels excluded by them (excepting people who should always be excluded, like Nazis). When it was just a few random people reading affirmations, it was much easier to chuck in a few and whatever. But the more the blog grew, the greater the stress.

.

Answer #3

I started writing Slightly Aggressive Affirmations for myself. I was the only one following the blog and it was set to send ME reminders of my own value - in the kind of aggressive language necessary to get through to me - because I was extremely low on confidence and needed real force to get it in to my head. But then things snowballed.

Thing is - I don't need them any more. It's harder to think of the kinds of things I should write, because I know longer need them myself. I have Slightly Aggressively Affirmed myself to a really great place, in terms of my self confidence and self love. I still have bipolar, and right now my life isn't going so great, so I get depressed but I do not believe fundamentally, at my core, that I am bullshit trash.

My primary emotion nowadays is possibly worse! I'm driven by anger a lot of the time - I've got a lot of deep rage, caused by long ago trauma. (I'm in therapy, don't worry). But I think most people would agree that I'm a fundamentally different person to who I was pre-pandemic. I'll tell you more about it some time. But I am drastically different - and definitely more than SLIGHTLY aggressive most of the time.

.

In conclusion, I believe affirming used to be an autistic special interest of mine and now it is not - but I'd love to make it one again! Especially now my two-year long, 65 000 word research project is finished. But it's much harder to get back to where I was, because the number of followers I have now is different, Tumblr is different and I am hugely different as a person.

Thankyou for reading this short essay/memoir. I'll see what I can do about a little affirming tomorrow.

Always remember that YOU MATTER!!! YOU ARE IMPORTANT!!! YOU ARE THE ONLY FUCKING YOU IN THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD!!! THINK ABOUT HOW FUCKING MAGICAL THAT IS!!!