#the thing about other people is that they have inner lives

[sublimepizzastarfish]

Hope this helps!

"One day there was an anonymous present sitting on my doorstep--Volume One of Capital by Karl Marx, in a brown paper bag. A joke? Serious? And who had sent it? I never found out.

"Late that night, naked in bed, I leafed through it. The beginning was impenetrable, I couldn't understand it, but when I came to the part about the lives of the workers--the coal miners, the child laborers--I could feel myself suddenly breathing more slowly. How angry he was. Page after page.

"Then I turned back to an earlier section, and I came to a phrase that I'd heard before, a strange, upsetting, sort of ugly phrase: this was the section on 'commodity fetishism,' 'the fetishism of commodities.' I wanted to understand that weird-sounding phrase, but I could tell that, to understand it, your whole life would probably have to change. His explanation was very elusive. He used the example that people say, 'Twenty yards of linen are worth two pounds.'

"People say that about every thing that it has a certain value. This is worth that. This coat, this sweater, this cup of coffee: each thing worth some quantity of money, or some number of other things--one coat, worth three sweaters, or so much money--as if that coat, suddenly appearing on the earth, contained somewhere inside itself an amount of value, like an inner soul, as if the coat were a fetish, a physical object that contains a living spirit.

"But what really determines the value of a coat? The coat's price comes from its history, the history of all the people involved in making it and selling it and all the particular relationships they had. And if we buy the coat, we, too, form relationships with all those people, and yet we hide those relationships from our own awareness by pretending we live in a world where coats have no history but just fall down from heaven with prices marked inside. 'I like this coat,' we say, 'It's not expensive,' as if that were a fact about the coat and not the end of a story about all the people who made it and sold it, 'I like the pictures in this magazine.' A naked woman leans over a fence. A man buys a magazine and stares at her picture. The destinies of these two are linked. The man has paid the woman to take off her clothes, to lean over the fence. The photograph contains its history--the moment the woman unbuttoned her shirt, how she felt, what the photographer said. The price of the magazine is a code that describes the relationships between all these people--the woman, the man, the publisher, the photographer--who commanded, who obeyed. The cup of coffee contains the history of the peasants who picked the beans, how some of them fainted in the heat of the sun, some were beaten, some were kicked.

"For two days I could see the fetishism of commodities everywhere around me. It was a strange feeling. Then on the third day I lost it, it was gone, I couldn't see it anymore."

--Wallace Shawn, The Fever (1990)

[lewyn-martell]

BRITT LOWER as Helena Eagan and ADAM SCOTT as Mark Scout in SEVERANCE → 2.04 "Woe's Hollow"

You know, there's a kinship between these two people that is innate, and I think what the show explores in all of its scope is the ways in which we're different in different environments, and does that sort of kinship carry over between characters, as you shift from innie to outie?

—Britt Lower, Inside the Episode 204: "Woe's Hollow"

My first instinct is to go to the part of my job that is sculpting the inner life of each of these parts of this same person. So, starting from Season One, I was much more in the headspace and inner life of Helly R, and Helena was seen much more in presentational environments. She's being taped, or she's being watched. […] This is a person, Helena, who has been conditioned into the position she's in. She's trapped within the same company [as the rest of the characters]. I think for Helena, it was this chance to blend into an environment that she doesn't get to be a part of, and to connect in a way that maybe she's never connected before.

—Britt Lower, GQ

I think there is that longing for connection and humanity because she’s been so starved for it. So even though she’s lying, I think there are genuine moments. There are genuine things that she’s filtering through the lens of Helly R.

—Britt Lower, The Washington Post

They're two parts of the same person. So there's obviously an inner rebel inside of Helena. That's an aspect of her that's not totally foreign to her. It is something that she has access to. And in Season 1, we see Helena looking at the innies. We see her studying Mark and Helly's interaction and having this curiosity about them.

—Britt Lower, TIME

That taking on this other version of yourself that maybe you've out-grown or you're at odds with, but it's still there—it's a frequency and a rhythm that you can tap into. Even in the scene where she's kind of laughing at the mythology of the scriptures at the ORTBO, I think that, probably, when she was a kid, she wanted so badly to laugh at these pretty ridiculous texts of her family, but she didn't have the ability. So here she is, through the lens of Helly R, getting to live out that [rebellion].

—Britt Lower, GQ

I think she’s getting a chance to have a laugh about it through this rebellious version of her. She’s like, “This is the filter who would get to do that and not suffer the consequences.”

—Britt Lower, Variety

I think that her meeting the innies has a profound effect on her humanity. And I think that she does share a sense of humor with with Mark, that's natural.

—Britt Lower, TIME

His feelings for Helly have only grown thus far this season […] Helly is a huge part of his life. Huge. And I think that a lot of his identity is wrapped up in how he feels about her and how she feels about him[…]

—Adam Scott, EW

Mark starts to realize: maybe getting Gemma out of here isn't my first objective. Maybe it's a little more important to take care of myself.

—Adam Scott, Inside the Episode 204: "Woe's Hollow"

The two of them are on a path. The two individuals, regardless of the innies or the outies, have been on a path of kindred spirit from season one. There's something physiologically that they have, this innate connection[…]

—Britt Lower, GQ

It's something we talked about a lot and spent a lot of time mulling over, the idea of this sort of triangle that's created with Innie Mark and Helly R. and Helena. For Mark's outie, Helena is someone he finds frightening and who is responsible for so much tumult and grief in his life. Yet, I think these two people, one way or another, have a connection of some sort. I'll leave it at that.

—Adam Scott, TIME

[whencyclopedia]

The Life of Hercules in Myth & Legend

Hercules is the Roman name for the Greek hero Herakles, the most popular figure from ancient Greek mythology. Hercules was the son of Zeus, king of the gods, and the mortal woman Alcmene. Zeus, who was always chasing one woman or another, took on the form of Alcmene's husband, Amphitryon, and visited Alcmene one night in her bed, and so Hercules was born a demi-god with incredible strength and stamina. He performed amazing feats, including wrestling death and traveling twice to the underworld, and his stories were told throughout Greece and later in Rome, yet his life was far from easy from the moment of his birth, and his relationships with others were often disastrous. This was because Hera, the wife of Zeus, knew that Hercules was her husband's illegitimate son and sought to destroy him. In fact, he was born with the name Alcaeus and later took the name Herakles, meaning "Glory of Hera", signifying that he would become famous through his difficulties with the goddess.

The demi-god, who suffered like mortals and who could make a mess of things in life just as easily as any man or woman but perform deeds no mortal could, had great appeal for the people of Greece and Rome. Hercules was a kind of super-powered everyman who suffered disappointments, had bad days - even bad years - and eventually died due to another's trickery. These stories, besides simply being entertaining, would have served an ancient audience by letting them know that, if bad things could happen to a hero like Hercules, they had nothing to complain about regarding the disappointments and tragedies in their own lives. Hercules served as a symbol of the human condition where, to use Hemingway's phrase, "a man may be destroyed, but not defeated." An interesting aspect of Hercules' character is that, because of his divine strength and abilities, he did not have to willingly submit to any of the labors or punishments imposed upon him. He chose to suffer indignities such as his famous Twelve Labors or his servitude to the queen Omphale and did so willingly. His inner strength and ability to endure hardships made him an inspirational figure to the people and a symbol of stability in the midst of chaos, even if it was a chaos he himself had caused. The historian Thomas R. Martin writes:

The only hero to whom cults were established internationally, all over the Greek world, was the strongman Herakles (Hercules). His superhuman feats in overcoming monsters and generally doing the impossible gave him an appeal as a protector in many city-states (129).

Early Life

Although he was seen as the champion of the weak and a great protector, Hercules' personal problems started literally at birth. Hera sent two witches to prevent the birth, but they were tricked by one of Alcmene's servants and sent to another room. Hera then sent serpents to kill him in his cradle, but Hercules strangled them both. In one version of the myth, Alcmene abandoned her baby in the woods in order to protect him from Hera's wrath, but he was found by the goddess Athena who brought him to Hera, claiming he was an orphan child left in the woods who needed nourishment. Hera suckled Hercules at her own breast until the infant bit her nipple, at which point she pushed him away, spilling her milk across the night sky and so forming the Milky Way. She then gave the infant back to Athena and told her to take care of the baby herself. In feeding the child from her own breast, the goddess inadvertently imbued him with further strength and power.

He was brought up at the court of his supposed-father Amphitryon, where he had the best tutors in the land who taught him wrestling, horseback riding, fencing, archery, how to drive a chariot, play the lyre, and sing. Hercules did not know his own strength, however, and killed his music teacher, Linus, by hitting him with a lyre one day during an argument. He was then sent to tend the flocks to keep him out of trouble. This seems to have been an impossibility for Hercules, however, as he heard that the Theban army had been defeated by a band of Minyans and, feeling this was unjust, he led a band of Theban warriors to defeat the Minyans and restore order to Thebes. King Creon of Thebes gave Hercules his daughter, Megara, in marriage as a sign of his gratitude.

Continue reading...

[mgu-h]

this is bit long, sorry just something I noticed:

I noticed with Max F. and Lando, mostly Max, that he always protects Lando's privacy. I mean, that's no secret really, but mid-last year, I watched almost all of Max’s streams from beginning to end, whether Lando was there or not. Maybe only three days in total when I didn’t join his stream.

And I noticed that while, yes, he sometimes tells stories about Lando (I saw some Lando fans criticize him for that because they think he uses Lando for clout, which I think is absurd), it's always stories that Lando would mostly tell himself. It’s never anything scandalous, so I don’t get why anyone would hate Max for it. In a few instances, Lando was even in the chat, encouraging Max to tell a story or show an embarrassing picture of him, but Max never did.

I think Max feels like part of "Team Lando Norris." I mean, he is 100% part of it, but what I mean is that sometimes Bankai will ask if Lando is flying or if he’s home yet, and even Connor asks these questions to Max. And Max sometimes ignores them, even though you can tell he heard them—like, he was talking right before, so it’s noticeable that he just chose not to answer. Which, I mean, is obviously for a reason. But these are also Lando’s friends, and I think they sometimes forget they’re live, and that there are certain people listening who run gossip pages or haters just looking for a reason to hate Lando even more.

Mostly, Max will ignore the question or answer so vaguely that the question isn’t really answered at all. But it’s always obvious that he knows the answer.

Also, whenever it was a race week and Max was streaming the race with Bankai, and Bankai would criticize a driver for a mistake (without insulting them, just pointing it out), Max would kind of try to smooth talk it over for potential fans in the chat. Because he knows people could take it as another reason to hate Lando. Bankai would also ask things like, "Why is Oscar so slow compared to Lando?" and wait to see what Max would say. But most of the time, Max wouldn’t answer, which I find interesting. The only time he really broke that pattern was at the Brazil GP, and even then, he tried so hard to phrase it in a way that wasn’t insulting to any other driver but he was frustrated (understandable).

Yes, some of it is probably to protect himself and, with that, also Quadrant, but it’s so obvious that he does this for Lando. He knows exactly what people would do with these clips. And after the year Lando had, other drivers’ fans would rip Lando to shreds if they felt like someone from Lando’s inner circle had insulted another driver, he is 100% team lando norris.

1000000% to all of that. it reminds me a bit of that last stream from the house in woking, when lando blurted out to chat that max had a girlfriend, making max upset. he very easily could have returned the favor and violated lando's privacy too, you could see it in his eyes, but he explicitly refused to do that to him. it's clearly a huge priority for him to protect lando, and always has been.

there's that joke in his twitch bio 'very professional streamer' but honestly he really is one. he's good at not offending people and keeping his streams interesting without oversharing. he knows he's got the advantage of his connection to lando (it gets people to his streams, who sometimes stick around just for him) but he manages to keep that without exploiting him for content.

it must be an awkward position for him sometimes to have to deny requests for info, to ignore or pivot or whatever else, especially if it comes from mutual friends, who really should know better, but he manages to do it. he's really good at keeping in control of what he says, even in moments of high emotion. his internal 'protect lando' instinct is always operative.

[serpentface]

I know you've already touched on this in a few places, but I'd be really interested in a post about Wardi musical traditions! What instruments exist, and how common are they? Is music a part of any religious rituals? Are there ballads (or narrative songs more generally) about any of the folktales or historical events you've posted about? Is written notation a thing?

I haven't developed specific names for any of these instruments but here's some.

A simply made but versatile instrument, and one of the most commonly used. Most musical bows here use the mouth as a resonator (rather than adding hollow structures to the instrument itself) to directly modulate the sound, especially given they are traditionally sung into while played. The string can be struck, plucked, or bowed like a fiddle, and specialized mallets for this instrument are made to be capable of all these functions.

Most fiddles here have one string, the tone of which is modulated by fingering. Variants made from horns or plant stalks are most common given the relative scarcity of appropriate timber. The variants here with a fingerboard are a more recent adoption, with this style being introduced via intensified trade with western Inner Seaway peoples. Variants with 2-3 strings are extant here, but not as common.

Handheld and seated lyres are very popular instruments with a fairly long history here. They tend to be regarded as specifically classy instruments associated with upper class beauty and leisure, in comparison to more common fiddles and bows.

Drums here are pretty diverse, though fall along these three main shapes (in addition to some smaller percussive instruments). Out of all musical instruments, they tend to get the most priority for use of wood. They have the most fundamental importance to music and dance here in general, which tends to be built around heavy percussive elements.

Drums have the most specific integration into religious practice, in which they produce a symbolic heartbeat to influence movement of spirit. Specifically made 'heartbeat drums' used by priests are large and worn at the side via a strap, though technically any drum shape can fulfill the core function (in non-priestly contexts it's less about the form of the drum itself and more how it's used).

Their priestly use is to influence the movement of God's spirit within and throughout a ritual space (for example the drumming that accompanies the kagnoma odo is considered the physical mechanism through which troops are blessed, it moves the Odomache Face of God's living spirit through a mass of people). They are functionally considered to be icons of God (usually made explicit with the drum head bearing direct iconography) and made with physical relics of God's body (the drumskin will be derived from the relevant sacrificial animal when possible, the drapes will include relevant skins/fur/feathers either way). As such, these drums are holy objects and have restrictions upon their use and strict requirements for care and cleansing.

Other heartbeat drums are used in medical contexts (and considered related but distinct objects from the ones used by priests), in which they are one facet of healing, attempting to correct the physical flow of blood/spirit through a person's body for perceived benefits. This is usually supplementary to baseline treatments of ailments (ingestable/wearable medicines, bloodletting, and hard material interventions like bonesetting and wound cleaning), with the drumming being intended to cement or intensify their effects.

Items similar to the 7-Faced God Faith's heartbeat drum predate this religion and are fairly widespread among peoples south of the Viper, used in similar capacities where it is perceived as influencing the movement of spirit(s) and having healing capabilities.

---

In addition to the things I've drawn here, there's also harps, flutes, whistles, horns (usually actual horns or shells), bells, and a few types of rattles. Bullroarers have a history here for long distance communication but very limited place in musical/religious practice.

---

Music has pretty central religious importance both in the contexts of priests and laymen, a substantial proportion of both public and private rites require at least some form of musical accompaniment. A core underlying philosophy here treats music and dance as an analogue to the movements and rhythms of the world (seasons, weather, animals, the body, birth, death) and having the capability of exerting influence over these matters when used in a targeted capacity. It is one of the mechanisms understood to help make rituals Work (not necessary to all rites, but important to many).

A type of sung prayer called a coullagri initiates essentially any act of communion with God, whether it be a daily prayer practiced in solitude or a major public rite witnessed by hundreds. This is a summoning prayer, it functions to symbolically call God into the ritual space and begin direct interaction. This is a bit of a complicated notion given that God is functionally regarded as always present to begin with, Its living spirit (when not inhibited) flows through all things. It can be understood through the general underlying body/blood(as spirit) model- a coullagri is like inflicting a small wound to draw a bead of blood from a specific part of the body. The blood is always there regardless, but now it's directly accessible, its interactive.

All members of society are considered equipped to perform a coullagri in of itself, though Specific forms of the song are more restricted. Male heads of a family have obligations to perform the hearth coullagri when their home's central fire is lit (you Can light a hearth without your family patriarch present but it doesn't confer its intended dimensions of spiritual protection), will lead the song for any prayers performed as a group, and are reserved the right to perform it during the formal naming ceremony of a child. All officiated sacrifices have a lengthy coullagri to call God into the animal, and are accompanied by heartbeat drum to direct the movement of spirit upon release (both of these performances are specifically reserved for priests).

There's no completely solid line between spiritual and secular music. You sing while plowing fields and planting seeds to help the crops grow, you also just do it to pass the time during the labor. Loud, crude ballads sung while traveling might frighten off evil spirits, you also just sing them for fun. Most music that Has spiritual dimensions is not a particularly special or solemn affair, it's just kind of a part of mundane life.

Funerary wails are their own distinct musical tradition. These are songs that instruct the dead on how to leave their bodies and complete their journey to the lunar land, repeated in a marathon of a vocal performance for the duration of a cremation. They are usually accompanied by a drumbeat to provide guidance, but they are sung intentionally harshly, often shrieked and wailed. The din attempts to frighten off malicious spirits that might plague the dead, and offers levels of physical catharsis for the griever.

Variants on the funerary wail also have a place in marriage practices. In some traditions, a bride's mother is responsible for leading a funerary wail as the bride is first led away from the family home. This journey (in most cases quite short, across a village or to an adjacent one) is symbolically likened to the journey of the dead to the afterlife- the girl is leaving girlhood and her father's household and protection, and will be reborn as a full woman in her husband's household. This also has some of the funerary wail's functions of attempting to dispel bad luck and frighten away evil spirits that may do the girl harm during this liminal period, and also potentially as a cathartic outlet for grief (this Is functionally the loss of your child, especially in cases where they're being moved more than a short distance away).

The epic poetry tradition here is designed to be sung and performed with musical accompaniment. The most standard and basic of this is soft drumming with the hand as a mallet, more elaborate performances tend to utilize lyres in addition to (rather than as a replacement for) drums. These poems have rhythmic schemes built into their structure but no codified notation/tunes, a major facet of their recital is how each individual bard puts their own spin on their delivery. Most major historical events have associated poems (and thus songs), some of which have been adapted into shorter folk songs.

I don't have any specific ballads/folk songs/etc worked out outside of very vague concepts (it's actually something I've been meaning to work on). The one area that's A Little fleshed out is herding songs. They have somewhat unique conventions, in that they serve in part to call your animals and communicate over long distances. They tend to be sung partly or wholly in falsetto and often lack the rhythmic bounding that tends to characterize most Wardi music. A lot of older herding songs have been adapted into more conventional ballads, particularly the humorous ones or the more romantic ones (focused on eventual returns home).

I have a little more info on the specific herding song traditions in the Highlands. These fall into two main variants- cattle calls/contact calls, and walking songs. The contact calls are performed in higher tones/falsetto to carry over long distances and have practical functions, in summoning your animals and establishing contact with villages downland/other herders (usually just as a signal that you're still alive, though sometimes to communicate more complex information over a distance). Walking songs are more conventional ballads and mostly serve to alleviate boredom. These are usually performed in a baritone and fairly quietly so as to Not attract attention. The ones that don't focus on cattle tend to fall into the basic thematic categories of 'I'm in wild spirit country and there's things up here with me (but I'm being so chill about it)' and 'I can't wait to get home and fuck my wife'.

[nahisummerhold]

Emotional Lock Down

Daily Writing Challenge

February 2025

Day Two - Cage

“So your new house is coming together,” Jamis said she had been telling him about it since she got it. The towering ex-Argent healer and therapist continued, “Are you glad you bought it? 

Nahi hadn’t seen him since they went on leave, but she was experiencing a lot recently and no longer knew exactly who to talk to. Or even what it was that she felt she needed to share… that was it wasn’t it? She felt she couldn’t share with almost anyone…. Nahi smiled and nodded, noticing a fleck of paint on her nail, she thought she got all of it off. Maybe a new scrub for her shower or a nail brush.

Jamis cleared his throat, “The house?”

Blinking up at him, “Hmm? Oh yes! It is not much but I love it and I don’t need much space anyway. It is really lovely, I have been making some changes to make it more me.”

Picking up a mug of kava and nudging another at Nahi, they were in a little place up on a hill in Dornagal where there was as much privacy as they could find in neutral ground. Stone chairs were not very comfortable, but talking with him was never comfortable but that was the nature of the work she was doing, “Your messages have been coming more often lately. Going to guess it  is not the house troubling you.” 

“Well,” a dark hand reached out to tug the handle of her mug to her, then she used a single finger to push the mug by the handle in a circle on the table, “there are a lot of changes lately in my life.” He said nothing, just waiting for her to talk about why she wanted to meet, not just text. “I met with Iren.” That night bothered her more than just introducing one of her lovers to her step-father, the meeting she needed to deal with, but that wasn’t something she needed his help with, handling Je’champe would be done on her own.

His hand came up and rubbed his beard, “Tell me how that went.”

Uncrossing and recrossing her legs at her ankles, her proper posture a habit, “It was great, I was going to tell him about the house, that I was going to live in the city when I didn’t have gigs.”

“But not that you are part of the company,” he said, guessing that caveat. 

“No,” she said, it was one of the things she hadn't done that Jamis suggested. “He has enough to worry about with my mother, he said she is fading more.”

Jamis took a drink and looked into her eyes, her legs bounced nervously, and then she went on, “I don’t want him to worry more, maybe after…”

“After your mother dies.” He finished, “You know her death will not undo all the fucked up shit she put in your head right? It might even get worse. What happens when she dies and you have complicated feelings about it. Will you just lock those away in that place with your other emotions?”

She looked at him, aghast, a trembling started in her shoulders, and her lips parted, tears filled the inner corners of her eyes, picking up the purple in the reflection as well as some gold from the candle on the table. A defiant tip of her chin drew her head up, her bottom lip shook, then she took a deep breath through her nose and every sign of her impending breakdown locked away. 

“Just… like… that…” he stated. “Nahi, you need to fix this, you need to unlock your emotions, it is alright to be mad, sad, happy, enraged, despondent, ecstasy, fear, surprise. Any of the thousands of emotions we feel on a regular basis.” He let his words of permission sit so that maybe they would take root, “You have them, I have seen them in your eyes, in the things we talk about, you just don’t trust letting anyone see them.”

Nahilvi took a shuddering breath, “I show emotion, they are not all locked away. I am making friends, letting people close.”

He looked her over, more than a hint of interest in his gaze, letting her continue as he took a drink of the hot liquid. 

“Have even been getting to know people inside of the company,” she said, with a hint of ‘I am doing it ok!’ To her tone,

“Of all the people in the company, who would you consider as a friend?” He asked her. 

The first was an easy answer, “Tinn, maybe Fio, they know more about me except Nara, but she is different.” After that she hesitated. “I like others too, but I have trouble defining connections with them.”

Jamis nodded, “What about these people outside the company?”

“There are the Commanders of the guard, Kelz’thalas B’andtherion and Allasticus B’andtherion, I like them and have had both over to the house. Lynesse, who you know, I have been working in the Shielded Mind with her training me. There is a man that knows some people in the company, you might even know him, Sol Cindersong and some people Naralinthe knows around the city.” She was rattling off names quickly but after the first few some of the warmth in her tone faded a bit.

“Very nice little list, did you just rattle off most of the people you know in the city now?” He watched her lower her eyes, “In some ways you are much younger than your years, Nahilvi.”

That drew a scowl and harsh huff, “I am fucking tired of that thought.”

A smile curved his lips, “Others have said something? Well, you are older than many in some ways too, just ways you choose not to show. Now that list? I am going to guess that you haven’t really spent meaningful time with any of them.”

 “Tinn has come over and we have chatted, so have the B’andtherions, I still spend time with others in the city, always nice to see those in the company, and the volunteering at the clinic a couple times a week.” Nahi rattled off the information for him like they were accomplishments on a resume, a resume of being an emotionally open person.

Jamis held up a hand, “Quite an accomplishment letting people into your space, that is a good step,” truth hung in his words, he wasn’t patronizing her.“Before we meet again, which I would recommend next week because I really need to get out of the house, the kids are driving me crazy. “A bright grin could be seen through the heavy beard.  “I want you to do something, now that you feel you are making actual friends, not just acquaintances, I want you to write down things that are personal that you have told them, and consider what the word ‘friend’ means to you. You spend a lot of time with certain people but I do not hear you call them friends, so show me what emotional openness you use to connect to the ones you call friends.” 

“Homework, why is it always homework with you?” Nahi said, letting the tension she was still holding go with a joke. 

Jamis just looked at her, not amused, her humor didn’t often hit with him either. “Because you work daily to change, not just when we are together.”

(Tags for baby mentions

@kharrisdawndancer @fio-renze @themadamelioness @kelzthalasbandtherion @allasticus @gloamingdawn @solstryce )

@daily-writing-challenge

[volturiprincess]

Bae Bae

Felix Volturi x fem reader

Summary: A gift to him Warnings: A slight mention of death but its not deep, my inner thoughts come through😁 A/N: I know I haven't posted a ton lately, ill do a separate post about that but the way I had a sudden inspiration for this one was like being on cloud 9. I wasen't sure if I wanted to post this today but i thought hey I need to keep you darlings feed🫶🏼. The song inspiration for this one was "Bae Bae" by Big Bang.....Enjoy💙(Demetri will be next) Word Count:1924

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Everything seemed dark, I would look at the stars at night and wonder why they did not shine for me? Everyone always talked about how bright the stars are, how they alone are a source of light in the dark sky. And the worst part was people would compare the stars to their loved ones. Love, a word I avoid in my life.  As I live my life day by day, I would see endless people in love, with their significant other, their special person, their other half. You can say I did envy that, yet I was reminded that I don't have anyone. 

Did I crave that feeling for affection and love? To love someone and to get the feeling in return? To learn to depend on someone and to not be so independent? Of course I did, I would have to be heartless not to have that craving. Still I have my days where I don't want to be with people, I don't want to be out in the world. I want to be contemplating my existence in life, what is it that I need to do to get out of this weird haze? 

So what do I do? I sit by a cute little cafe. I find myself going more often than I would like to admit, sketching on my notepad drawing anything that my little mind comes up with. Words sometimes do not work for me but drawing is like a nice cup of coffee, currently what im drinking as I sketch. There are not even perfect sketches, it looks like a child drew them but I like to think it's abstract art. It has no deep meaning, its only significance is my mind.

More recently my drawings have been more specific, I seem to define my lines more, it has more specific outcomes. I have been focusing more on what I want to draw, and I can proudly say I know what it is. I find myself delicately drawing my scenery, I might draw what my table contains, a cup of coffee, books, sometimes a pastry that feeds my sweet tooth. I have even grown bold to draw people, ones that might be sitting outside of the cafe or ones that just stand around. 

But I don't draw faces, no I have not had the patience for that quiet yet. The young lady who works at the cafe sometimes comes by the table I have claimed, to ask me what I am drawing.

“My mind”

She looks at me with a confused look but gives me a small smile as she walks away to help another customer. She asks me that question every time I come by, and everytime I give her the same response. How has she not gotten tired of asking that? I sometimes grow tired at work repeating the same old lines of ‘would you like a receipt’ or my favorite one where I have to force a smile when deep down i'm so tired and down in the dumps and say “have a great day”. It sounds hypocritical to me because I'm telling someone else to have a good day when I can't seem to have one myself. 

I get a lot of customers who have a certain someone in their life, which seems fitting since I do work at a flower shop. They rush in trying to find the ‘perfect’ flowers to give them, they usually go for the roses but there are ones who want to ‘spice’ it up. 

Back to my current state I was sketching a strangely gorgeous man. I always see him when I come to this cafe and always in the same spot. I think he has been my sudden inspiration to want to draw more specific things. He sits by the shade, leaning back on his chair that seems a bit small for the big man he is but he gently reads a book. He seems like a fan of Edgar Allan Poe because he is currently reading a book with just his short stories. I have that book, my version is filled with annotations and sticky notes filled with reactions on certain parts I catch myself re-reading.

This man has such a stoic and blank face that makes me wonder how he can keep a straight face while reading Poe’s stories. Maybe he has read it more times than I have because I still find myself doing faces in certain parts. 

I focus more of my energy on his posture, he has one leg crossed over his knee and his left elbow rests on the table since he is sitting by the table and not forward holding the book. I never knew someone could look so elegant sitting down in a casual posture. The way sometimes the air would blow some of his dark locks out of his face only to go back resting on his forehead leaves me mesmerized. 

He is in his own world like I find myself, and that intrigues me. Strangely though he never orders anything to consume while he is there, the same young lady who talks to me goes up to him. I have never actually managed to hear his voice but he does give her a small smile just like she does.

I started to feel a bit…irritated when he gives her that smile. Why should I feel that irritation? I don't know him, or his name, or even heard his voice and yet I can feel that green eyed monster creep in slowly. Is this behavior normal? Why should I feel like this? We are not together, he is not mine, nor am I his. I don't even know what his favorite color is. My wild guess would be black because he seems to wear those colors the most. But that is just making assumptions, I wear a lot of black too and yet my nails are a bright pink that has a nice shimmer to it, that's my favorite color.

As I'm about to finish the sketch of his broad shoulders, he's gone. My eyebrows furrow as I do a quick skim of my surroundings. He moves fast. 

“You have quite the talent, little flower”

My eyes popped open as I felt my back stiffen and the pencil I had in hand fall to the ground. That voice…deep with richness, made my tired eyes fill with awareness and energy. I turn slightly to meet with the man I've had my focus on this afternoon looking at me with an amused look. That emotion sure does fit him perfectly, he was made to be smiling. As I gaze up at him, any function of knowing how to be a human flew out. He walked around my table to sit in front of me, my gaze never leaving him as he moved. 

“What? Surprised I'm talking to you after weeks of never doing so?”

I nod, which makes him chuckle at my lack of words. How can I even when the man I have unfortunately fallen for is talking to me for the very first time? 

“I was working up the courage to talk to you for a while now, but your beauty intimidated me”

My beauty? Oh what a charmer he is. I have never been called beautiful before, never been complimented before, not even my own parents have. None of that mattered after this handcrafted handsome species of a man has flattered me with his words. 

“Your quite the charmer, I thought you were going to be cold and stoic”

His cute smile turned into a smirk. “Well, am I not full of surprises today?”

“What gave you the sudden courage to talk to me?”

“I've been catching your eye every once in a while and then you would furiously be in your sketchbook, I thought for sure you were interested in me, am I wrong?”

So he’s been watching me in return, yes I'm mortified that he's noticed I've been noticing him but at the same time I'm more intrigued in how he managed to spot my eyes on him when he was deeply engrossed in his book. 

“How did you manage to catch my eyes?”

“How can I not catch your eyes? The sun gives you a little spotlight that makes you look like a fallen angel while it also accentuates each of your facial gestures, you almost made it impossible for me to focus on my daily reading”

“You almost sound like a stalker”

“Well sue me for liking a lady”

I smile at his comment. “You like me?”

“You have no idea little flower how lovestruck you have me, you are a natural beauty, inside and out”

I felt my cheeks heat up with warmth as I feel like a fish out of water trying to understand how this man, who I don't even know his name yet, has a way with words. At this moment it feels like if we have known each other for years now, the way I can talk to him with such comfort for days, if time will permit me, is so abnormal for me. I have never been “a people person”, I tend to be a bit more of an introvert and it takes me a while to grow comfortable with people. But right now, with him, that is a whole other story. 

“Care to give me a name? I need to know the name of the man who is wooing me”

“Felix, and your’s little flower?”

“Y/N”

“What a beautiful name”

I look at Felix for anticipation as he looks up from my journal. I just finished writing my first short story and I based it on us. It was meant as a gift for Valentine's day but my excitement got the best of me. I wanted to focus more on my perspective of how I felt when I met him and what my thoughts were before I met him too. I haven't told him yet only snips but I knew from the start I wanted to do this for him. 

He finally speaks which eases my nerves a bit.“You know how you say you are not good with words”

“Yes?”

“My flower, you have such a way with words, I love reading your inner thoughts because I might not be able to actually read yours, reading this makes me feel I am able to”

I wanted to cry but I kept myself together, Felix…what can I say about him…he knows what to say to make me feel like i'm the only breathing soul, he treats me like the center of his universe. I always say to myself what did I did in my past life that life decided to give me a sweet loving man like Felix as a reward. I must have died the most gruesome way or suffered tremendously if it means I got such a happy life now with this giant. 

“So you like it then”

“I love it”

He crushes me into a deep hug as I bury my face into his chest, now that we are the same temperature, me and Felix don't have to wear sweaters when we hug. I can feel his warmth that always leaves me craving for more. 

You’re a natural beauty, so unique, so unique. My perfect dear, be my muse. We’re so comfortable together….My body wraps around yours so perfectly…I'm drunk with your scent, getting hazy again. Don't get plucked away, please.

Lyrics from 'Bae Bae' by Big Bang

[queencaramilflinda]

The real message of Lucy vs Buddy is that worshipping a divinity is about following the values that the god puts forth, not about preaching or praying or evangelizing.

When Buddy was offered to die a Helio worshipper or live with a different god, he chose to abandon the faith he claimed such devotion to. When Lucy was offered the same thing, she looked to her values as they related to her religion and decided that she would not add to the coldness of the world. Lucy, even in death, remains a light in the dark, the warm memory in the coldness of the ratgrinders. That’s true devotion. That’s the point of religion.

[thebirdandhersong]

I think the problem. the problem is that I have always been afraid of not being invited into the inner circle. and am always wanting to be part of the inner circle. inner circle being the circle of love and companionship and communion. of course being a TCK and a bit of a sheltered homeschooled oddball child has nudged this further along over the years. but I didn't realise how STRONG that desire still burned. to actually be wanted.

[nezumasa]

“Why is Anya ignored in favored of the men—“ you can go commission some art or writing for money. That’s a thing you can do without guilt-tripping people for free work.

[sadaveniren]

🙄🙄

If that is what you got from me making a post where I joke about how actual society off of the Internet isn’t going to crucify me or harass me for enjoying something perceived weird, and thinking differently than the average person, all while staying in my own lane (and this isn’t even talking about me expressing that a lot of this is - probably - because of autism meaning my brain is LITERALLY WIRED DIFFERENTLY BUT THATS OKAY) I genuinely question your compassion for people who are different than you.

Like.

I honestly do worry how you handle meeting someone who’s just a bit different than you. You must be someone who immediately bullies someone you think is weird, even if they have done nothing to you except have fun.

[just-spacetrash]

😰

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

.

[13eyond13]

.

[margle]

it's genuinely mind boggling to me how someone can make a list of their favourite musicians/artists/authors and not include a single woman. how?? i just dont understand. you have to be actively avoiding them at this point.

[medicinemane]

I once was talking with my pharmacy manager about... democracy, about how while there's plenty of stupid people in the world we'd all probably prefer didn't vote, that it was very very hard to actually make a line that makes sure only wise people vote while keeping all the idiots out

And I basically said to him "think of all the doctors and pharmacists you know who are smart, well educated people, who you 100% don't think make good choices"

From the look and his face, I'd say that spoke to him (it's incredible how many smart idiots there are in the world, isn't it?)

Anyway, I make that point because it much more addresses the whole concept of... lets call it democracy of the fit

Like it sounds great till you actually take even one second to think about it. It's almost like trying to draw any line in the sand for who it's ok to disenfranchise is not only dumb and ineffective, but also super dangerous. Ah man, I'm sorry, you scored too low on this test which happens behind closed doors and is graded by my political ally... it's not like you disagreeing with me had anything to do with that

(I'd hope we don't even need to touch on why the idea that testosterone levels are a really stupid useless way to decide who gets to vote, cause if that's true then we don't even have to disenfranchise anyone, we can just give out steroids and have the best country in the world... or is it only naturally produced T that makes you a free thinker?)

oh hey just in case anyone who left twitter is wondering how things are going over there

last night elon tweeted a 4chan screenshot (with bonus antisemitic text in the OP image) advocating for only “high status males” in government and the implied repeal of women’s suffrage. Cool cool cool