#this is def a word vomit

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

magic in asoiaf is genetic. and that is intresting. and the fact that grrm doesn’t shy away from the implications of this makes me love asoiaf even more.

because it’s very understandable that these people who could ride dragons would see themselves as more gods than men. it’s understandable that the practice of sibling-sibling incest would become common in order to keep this ability in the family/to not lose said ability. it’s also understandable that these people would see their race as superior because they are able to do these things that others could not.

it also makes complete sense that this human civilization collapsed in a horrific magical event due to their own hubris because they saw themselves as gods when they were always only men.

and that is peak world building.

some more peak world building is that the noble houses of westeros also clearly gained power and held onto their power through the use of their magical abilities inherited from their ancestors.

a godlike existence like Garth the Green being the ancestor of all the oldest and most noble of the reach houses makes perfect sense for this world!and it also makes sense that the lords without this ancestry are discriminated against in this region that still holds onto the values their society cultivated in the past in order to maintain their magical superiority, even though most of these noble and old houses no longer exhibit these abilities.

and it also makes sense that these people no longer have access to these abilities as they no longer practice the religion that was centered around these powers; plus their blood is simply diluted at this point as these houses have married into a different ethnic group so often that the magical gene just doesn’t surface anymore.

but the fact that it still matters if you can trace your ancestry back to Garth the Green? peak! peak! peak!

george does such an excellent job showcasing the stagnation of westerosi society here because why should it matter if you’re connected to this magic guy if magic is no longer commonplace? however, it also makes total sense that the ruling class of the reach still harps on and on about this as it’s how they maintain the status quo and differentiate themselves from those they consider lesser now that they no longer have access to magic themselves.

and this is also why it’s very important that the Starks still retain the blood of the first men. because the first men interbred with the children of the forest and other elder races, which is what gave these humans these powers. it’s also worth noting that before the direwolves connected with the Stark children, none of our current Starks were able to awaken their abilities by themselves, which shows that even now they are very far removed from their ancestor who’s genetic makeup gave this bloodline these abilities. and it makes sense that the Starks experienced this slow magical decline because magic itself was declining in the world after the doom of valyria.

another reason for this decline is because Andal culture started heavily influencing the North and slowly changed the way magic was perceived. so now in the present, a warg/skinchanger/greenseer has become something to fear being because that’d make you different and therefore puts your life at risk, which means that there’s now practically no safe environment to cultivate these abilities and no secure way to pass down any knowledge you do have about said abilities.

i can’t help but be reminded about how Jon Snow has rejected his nature and how that has led to the stagnation of his abilities, and then i think about Arya and Bran and how their new environments have led to an astonishing growth in their abilities, which shows that it’s not just genetics that matter, environment is also just as, if not more, important.

i bring all of this up because magic being genetic in asoiaf is not as problematic as people try to make it out as. in real life, sometimes people just have genetic gifts. some people can become olympians, and some people are disabled. some people are born 10 times smarter than the average human, and some people believe that covering their faces in lemon juice would turn them invisible. that is reality. and in this universe, some people have access to magic and some don’t, and it’s all based on genetics. it’s unfair! and that makes it realistic.

not everyone gets to ride dragons and not everyone gets to travel back in time, and that grounds asoiaf, which is what grrm was going for.

and how these societies have organized themselves in response to these genetic abilities and the dangers they pose makes absolute sense. on one hand we have the valyrian freehold, which was a magic hotspot and the people who lived there used magic to propel their society to new heights, and on the other hand we have the seven kingdoms that demonize anyone too different, and all magic practitioners are different from normal humans.

and the fact that george decided to go this route with asoiaf is so juicy to me cause:

we have characters like Varamyr and Euron who use their abilities to commit great evils and we know that their powers have influenced the way they see and interact with others. on the other hand we have characters like Dany who use their abilities to fight against evil violent institutions. and through characters like her we learn how vulnerable fledgling magic practitioners/characters with these abilities are to these older and more dangerous institutions and individuals who are perfectly aware about the knowledge gap between them and these younger characters and know exactly how to exploit them.

so, while it’s understandable that the fandom is uncomfy with the practices and values that grrm has written about, this isn’t bad world building by any means. it’s logical and well thought out. and i truly enjoy that grrm doesn’t shy away from writing about the more worrying aspects and implications of magic being a matter of genetics. i also like how the seven kingdoms and the valyrian freehold are kinda extremes on the matter of magic and how this is/was detrimental to both of these societies and at the individual level. a horrific magical firey doom is not any better nor any worse than a slow drawn out icey decline.

imo, what is important to remember is that in the world of asoiaf, people with magic are the ones who are discriminated against (bc most POV characters are in Westeros and magic is a no no there). so they are the ones who are in danger if they out themselves as magic users. now, it is true that some societies are more tolerant (Qarth is a great example of this and Valyria before the doom was likely the most tolerant to have ever existed in this world), but as of now most societies simply aren’t. remember jojens warning? he didn’t pull that out of his ass. bran would’ve been in a lot of danger if he came out and told the wrong people about his dreams/abilities. also, jon’s assassination may have been partly motivated by the mutineers fear of wargs. this is the life-threatening danger magic practitioners are in for simply existing in an intolerant society.

tbh the reason i typed all this up is because it’s very annoying when people try to ignore the reality, which is that the dragonbond depends on genetics. now, i’m sure there are other ways to ride a dragon, as dragons are magical animals so of course there may be a one in a million chance of a dragon allowing some rando to ride it, but this doesn’t change the fact that there is such a thing as a genetic ability that gives these certain humans the ability to form a connection with a dragon.

(another example that i can’t help but remember is that melisandre was able to get ghosts approval by using some of her tricks. of course there could be other reasons for ghost to have done this, but the most likely reason is that ghost simply fell for melisandre’s trick and this influenced how jon saw mel. but this doesn’t change the fact that melisandre will never have the kind of bond jon and ghost have because melisandre is not a warg. this is also another example of how vulnerable fledgling magic practitioners are to older ones.)

so, sorry not sorry that george decided to create a realistic representation of what a society would look like if only certain bloodlines were able to ride dragons <\3.

[essektheylyss]

not to eldest daughter post but do you worry yourself sick over who's gonna take care of your parents when they're old or are you normal

[lloyds-archive]

I want to see this man suffer.

[bl00doodle]

My sonknux fanchild..... her name is apple !!

[sparring-spirals]

There is a universe in which i was caught up properly on CR whenever what the fuck went down and Imogen verbally and definitively declared that- after everything leading up to this and the back and forth and indecision- that she'd be willing to take down her mom if need be. and i would have been deeply insufferable and writing 20+ separate meta posts and liveblog yelling posts and shitposts. This is not that universe so instead we will put this post here where i can have wildly uninformed (aka 20 eps behind) Emotions about it until someday i actually catch up.

(I know. i accidentally wrote potentially wildly off base/deeply out of date meta again. what can i say. i like shaking the concept of An Imogen (even if it is Outdated Imogen) in a jar. sorry.)

Because i was watching long enough, I think, to see Imogen in the throes of the hope for something better, to understand that Imogen was viewing her mom was a figure and an idea and an answer, that would make things easier. Her mom was- gone, so early. And so her mom, in her mind, was not a person she was an idea, and there was so much hinged on that! Dogged determination and anger at her father and a deep seated dislike of the powers in her hands and head even as they gave her a guilty rush. There were promises there that maybe no one else had made, but Imogen believed. Things built up. Expectations made. Lore crafted, even unconsciously, around someone who was, yes, important to Imogen, but more importantly: Missing. Gone. A blank slate to be filled in. A promise of an answer guide to open questions.

And then she meets her mom, and Liliana Temult goes from a figure to a person- with all the bells and whistles and rough edges. She meets her mom and her mom turns her away. Tells her to run. Tells her she should go. Tells her to leave.

And Imogen doesn't. In the same way she kept visiting libraries, keps asking, kept pushing for answers when it was just about her magic and her headaches and the voices. Imogen always, always wants to know. She keeps digging, she keeps trying, she reaches out, over and over and keeps trying to touch this figure in mist until she's real under her hands, and. Evidence piles up- of deeds gone wrong, blood on her hands, a figure standing next to Otohan (her friends bodies scattered, lifeless, around Otohan). She keeps reaching out, keeps trying, and is rebuffed, over and over. Things get worse and the skies get redder and magic goes dead and she's still- unsure, because what if there's a better reason, what if there's a better way, there has to be a reason, why. There has to be, right- maybe if- maybe. Maybe-

Its just like- a person as an idea. As a symbol. As a promise. One you build yourself up around and towards. One you talk about, not talk to.

And then the fog clears, and they are a human.

(And she's your mom, and she's not what you imagined. She's done you wrong. She's done your loved ones wrong. She's hurt you. She's hurt others. She's going to keep hurting you. She is going to keep hurting everyone. She is too far gone to reason with. She is not listening to you. She is flawed. She is. dangerous. She looks so much like you. You look just like her. You are so similar. You have always known you were similar. You always hoped. You.

Are not her. You are not hers. She is not yours. She is not who you thought she was. She was always someone else. So are you.)

Imogen walks through the bases pretending to be her mother. Liliana is a known face- a powerful one, a figure people fear. A well known silhouette. Imogen slips into the shadows of it, sometimes, when it serves her, but we know- she knows- its all an act. All a lie.

Liliana, after all, is alive, and well, making choices that she believes in and fighting for things with a dogged determination maybe only matched by her daughter.

Imogen knows this. I think. There's a part of her that maybe wishes that wasn't the case.

"There is no loyalty with this blood." And after all- only living people bleed.

[keirawantstocry]

morning crew roadtrip

[cxpperhead]

Sorry for the lack of activity lately! Between being unwell lately and now experiencing a mini-heatwave, focusing on writing hasn't been easy. Got my stuff done for now though and I've got holiday upcoming so hopefully should be able to manage better soon! Also snek updates, Ror is doing so very well. He just had his first hopper mouse and is GLOWING with health, especially with some of that gorgeous sun. At least one of us is enjoying the heat!

He just finished drinking before I took this snap, you might see a teeny water droplet on the end of his chin <3

[thebirdandhersong]

hmm

[starlightshore]

Thanks for the Measured Response™. Unfortunately the character limit doesn't allow for much nuance in asks. My issue isn't so much with the character's actions as the way their conflict is framed. It always feels like we're supposed to judge Asriel way harsher - for ghosting the person responsible for their trauma - than Chara, who is actively trying to hurt them. I know you don't want to trivialize abuse, but the story still botches the subject pretty badly. Still, good luck with the rewrite.

(sighs) please anon, while I do appreciate the effort to acknowledge the lack of nuance in the previous ask, I would much rather you approach me more reasonably. I don't appreciate you coming to me, a complete stranger to both of us, with this attitude of already guilty. can you please learn to talk to people more reasonably? like, I'm living my life out here and you come and accuse me in a really rude way of promoting abuse or whatever the far-fetched conclusion that ask could come across as.

I am more than happy to accept fault over my writing and do my best to improve, but I want to do so on friendly, acceptable terms. please withhold condemnation and explain how and why you feel the story was mishandled. You do so really nicely in the second ask and I appreciate that.

Ultimately, regardless of my intent, my story didn't convey the message and that's, at the very least, mostly my fault. I can try to explain why I'd argue I didn't fuck up as badly as you paint me as, but I will accept that the story I wrote was not emotionally paced well made it weigh more towards cruelty without the hope and understanding I wanted the story to be read as.

I want to stress that I take abuse deadly seriously. I'm a victim of emotional abuse myself and this is something I am desperate to portray in all of its ugly, dirty detail and I want to do it without hurting people. I obviously failed when I first wrote this and I want to say thank you for coming to me about it, even if I feel there is still some friction here I want to express that gratitude. But also please be aware of how you approach people. (referring to the OG ask here).

Anyway

i wanna defend myself here a little and say I think you're missing the bigger picture of the framing of that scene. I feel you forgot the context of that scene and where it's placed in the story. It's this post.

Previously, that entire chapter had Chara idolizing the Asriel they knew as a child. Their timetravel ability being removed meant they longed for that power to control the narrative and live in the past. its like, metaphorical shit for how when growing up its hard to move on from the past and accept that you're aging.

That scene was the point where Chara realized that Asriel wasn't perfect -and has never been. The story is framed by Chara's POV exclusively and navigates Chara's feelings about their separation from Asriel. The "abuse" of that scene is the feeling of an older sibling telling them to "fuck off" and "stop acting like a victim" which are like... like devoid of the context of Asriel's perspective (which we didn't have at this point in the story) is a very hurtful and emotionally damaging thing to say to someone. I can see how someone reading that, who could have been through a similar situation, would react very badly to seeing that in the comic. Thus the content warning. I honestly don't know if "abuse" is the right word here, but what is someone going to have blacklisted for this? Like I said, my goal is to avoid hurting so I'm not going to not tag it. It's an issue of vocabulary vs. accessibility. I still wouldn't know what to tag this tbh.

the overall narrative of the comic is that Chara's perspective of Asriel was holding themself back. they were wallowing over a perfect picture that never existed -which reflected how they hate themselves for not living up to the perfect angelic ideal that they obviously could never have lived up to.

Chara condemning Asriel for being Flowey and being a jerk is the first step towards chara acknowledging their own blame in the equation. pretending the problem doesn't exist and that you're inherently awful doesn't fix things. Immediately after tossing out Flowey, they realize they are a flower as well. (literally becoming the thing they just condemned Asriel)

Once The two reconcile with the help of Actual Adults in the situation, the story changes POV to Asriel. It's then we're given context to Asriel's perspective and to show, that yeah, both of them Suck as people. That both are capable of majorly fucking up. And that's because the tools they're given a life of trauma and being reborn into a world that doesn't understand your damage is in itself traumatizing.

so idk man. the framework here serves a purpose and while I plan on showing a more nuanced and balanced pace -I really need to show the characters having more things going on than their larger conflict + be happier with each other. (the problem with writing for an askblog is that its very reactive and its easier to lean into tension and relationship drama than focus on the lighter but necessary moments. I know for sure the redraw will be better at this)

But yeah the framework, as it stands, feels good to me. Maybe in the details of how it's shown I'll be able to handle the nuances more gracefully but with the larger goal in mind, I'm not sure how I can change that? I would really love to hear your thoughts on that.

[amberlynnmurdock]

Interlaced

Pairing: Ben Tallmadge x Reader

Genre: FLUFFFFF 

Summary: This is my submission for the Valenturn’s Day event! by @viola-ophelia​ I’ve never done an event on here so I am happy to contribute! I went with “setting: by the water” and “letter writing.” These were not the original blocks I chose but I randomly got inspired one day and wrote this. I know I am late LOL but life is crazy. There’s not really a plot to this but I hope this is something anyone can enjoy <3

I also made this header on Canva LOL I can’t wait for the next Turn event!!! 

WARNING: it’s really cheesy im sorry i mean what can i say it’s valentine’s day likeeee!!!! 

Ao3 Link 

Benjamin Tallmadge sat quietly at his desk, quill in one hand, a piece of your lace dress in the other. You had cut a corner of your dress for him, a piece of you for him to take on his long journey. Ben smiled at the memory that happened not too long ago in his tent.

“Open your hand and close your eyes,” you whispered next to him on his cot. Ben gave you a suspicious smile, mischief in his deep blue eyes, and listened. He leaned on his elbow and opened his left hand.

You place something soft in the palm of his hand. You closed his fingers around it, making a fist. For a moment, you don’t say anything. You look at his knuckles—lightly bruised. It perplexed you how such hands could face battle and violence but in moments like this, be soft and gentle. You imagined his hands in battle: shaking, hard, his finger on the trigger of a musket, knuckles bloody from hitting an enemy. And at the same time, these were the same hands that caressed your face lovingly, the same fingers that brushed your bottom lip, the same ones that always found their way between your legs…

You tried not to ponder it too much. You didn’t want to get this emotional—especially on the eve of his departure.

“You may open,” you tell him.

Ben opens his eyes to find a soft piece of white lace perfectly cut like a long ribbon. Ben looked quizzical at it at first, and you laughed at his confusion.

“It’s a piece of my dress,” you explain, “think of it as a piece of me to take with you on your long journey.”

Your words were slowly tearing his heart apart. It was unfair you had to fall in love this way, in the middle of a war. Or maybe, this was just what the two of you needed. But still—no sentiment could change the fact that you both had no idea what the future held for your love.

“Thank you,” was all he could say at the moment.

And now, Ben sat at his table, his bed still messy from how you both laid. You only left about an hour ago, when the camp was at its most quiet, and Ben had you leave from the back.

He carefully laid the lace down on his desk, you at the forefront of his mind. He wanted to leave you with something while he was gone, and what better than a love letter, he thought. A surprise message, left at your tent, for you to come back to.

————

The morning of his departure, Ben carefully tied the piece of lace around one of the buttons on his waistcoat, cleverly hidden underneath his blue uniform.

He was ready.

————

It had been two weeks since Ben left with the dragoons. And with each day that passed, dealing with his absence didn’t get easier. You had no way of knowing if he was okay, unwounded, or even alive. It was hard to think of that but it was true: this was the reality the two of you lived in. Unknown territory.

As you folded the laundry in Anna’s tent, you remembered his last words to you.

“I promise I will come back to you,” Ben kissed your knuckles before wishing you goodnight. “I don’t break promises.”

And then, the next morning, you saw an envelope at the foot of your tent.

You haven’t opened it yet.

Deep in thought, you hadn’t realized how aggressively you were folding the clothes. It’s been too long since you’ve seen Ben and the anticipation was starting to become unbearable if it wasn’t already.

“Are you all right?” Anna’s voice called your name from afar. Startled, you stopped what you were doing. Anna came to your side and placed a loving hand on your arm.

“I’m fine,” you lie, straight through your teeth.

Anna sighs. She knows better, and you know it too. But you weren’t one to spill your feelings, even to your friends… there were bigger issues in the world, for Christ’s sake! There are men putting their lives on the line every day for the cause, and here you were, moping, upset like a little girl because you missed Ben.

“You know, it’s all right to be vulnerable every now and then,” Anna spoke after a pause.

“No! I can’t! It’s not my place to be vulnerable, especially on this camp,” you couldn’t help but break down right in front of Anna, covering your face with your hands. She moves you to sit down, and as she helps you lower, Anna notices the corner of the envelope in your front dress pocket.

“What’s that?” Anna asks, pointing to it. Bleary-eyed, you shake your head and push it further down your pocket.

“It’s a letter from Ben. He left it at my tent opening. He must’ve dropped it either right after I saw him or right before he left.”

“Have you read it? Maybe it’s something to soothe your worries?” Anna asks with sincerity. Her big brown eyes were filled with worry as she looked at you in distraught.

You shook your head, wiping tears away. “No. I haven’t mustered the strength.”

Anna let out a deep sigh. “Well, you aren’t going to get any better until you read his letter,” she soothed, placing a hand on your knee. You nodded your head. You knew she was right.

“It’s just—I’ve put it off because I don’t want this to be the last I have of him. I honestly didn’t want to read it until he was back. I don’t know. I’m scared of all this uncertainty. I shouldn’t have come here,” you confess to Anna, pulling the letter out of your pocket and flipping it in your hands. It was sealed with blue wax. The corners of the envelope began to crinkle. You’ve carried it with you every day since you got it, but you haven’t opened it yet. It was tempting every day, but you felt held back. Because after you’ve opened and read it, then what?

“I think it’s time to read it,” Anna told you, “you need fresh air, not to be surrounded by other people’s clothes. Take a walk by the river, and read his letter. He wrote it for you for it to be read.”

You pressed your lips together and closed your eyes. You knew Anna was right. You nodded your head and recomposed yourself, tucking the letter back safely in your pocket.

“I guess I will do that.”

————

It was late in the afternoon. The sun was almost ready to set. You could hear Ben’s voice in the back of your mind; “If I’m not on the camp, make sure to be back in your tent before it gets dark.” You smiled, thinking of how worried he looked when he said this, blue eyes wide and so serious. He was always serious when talking about your safety. It made you smile.

You found a spot right next to the river. You crossed your legs as you sat on the grass. For a moment, you watch the river flow. A small breeze passed and you shivered as the temperature began to drop. You took a deep breath before pulling the envelope out.

Slowly opening the wax seal, you pull out the pages of his letter, and you are surprised by the amount that’s in there. About eight pages were folded together. You opened your mouth in disbelief—it looked like he wrote a short story. He must’ve wasted so much ink just for you.

Dear __,

After spending a lovely night with you, and receiving such a touching gift to take with me, I felt compelled to leave you with something as well. I can’t give you what you deserve—a bouquet of roses, a tailored dress, jewelry—but I can give you my words. I know these next few weeks will be tough for us both and I will miss you terribly. I wish I could make things different but I can’t—not yet. But just know that every day I am out in the field I am fighting for our country, for us. And I make it my mission to come back to you every time. I won’t fail you, ever. And if I do, then you can curse my name that I ever was the reason to cause you heartache.

I’ve written a message for every day that I am gone, that you can read in order, to fill my absence. A message for you every day from me. Please don’t look ahead at the dates, I don’t want the messages to be spoiled. I want you to be surprised every day. I wrote these as if I was writing them the day of.

I love you and can’t wait to return to you.

You let out a short gasp at his words—how idiotic of you, to put off reading these damned messages! You scrambled to go onto the next page. Attached was a smaller rectangular piece of paper, assumed to be used to cover the dates’ messages so as to not be spoiled. Tears formed in your eyes, how thoughtful of Ben.

You devoured the first few messages. They started very simple and light-hearted, and he always signed it as Yours Truly, Ben.

Day 3:

I hope you are taking care of yourself, my love. And please remember to be aware of what’s around you. I hope today you have a good day. Please tell Anna I said hello. I am glad you have each other when Caleb and I aren’t around.

Please know you are always in my thoughts. I miss you desperately. I wish I could have you in my arms right now.

The messages following were in the same light: Ben hoped you were having a good day, he can’t wait to see you again… but the messages for the more recent days had a different tone.

Day 10:

I want you to picture something for me. Picture a large white house with large windows. And blue window sills. Picture a large front yard. I always wonder what flowers you would want to grow. I always picture you on the porch, reading.

I imagine this life with you all the time. We won’t be separated for long.

I promised you I would always come back to you.

Day 14:

I want you to know that no matter what I do out here, you are always at the center of my mind. I know this isn’t easy—the risk of it all, the secrecy. But for me, it’s worth it—it’s got to be worth it, if one day I imagine us on our own land, together, not in secrecy. This is my other promise to you, my love—that I will give you the life you deserve.

You devoured every word he wrote, every message. You laughed at some, and with a message like this, you cried. It felt liberating to finally read them and you kicked yourself for not opening them sooner. What were you so afraid of?

After a short while, you folded the papers back and carefully placed them in the envelope. It was getting darker by the second. You placed the envelope in your lap and closed your eyes for a bit, taking in the sounds of nature and thinking about how you couldn’t wait to see Ben.

Ruffling.

You tense in your seat and open your eyes. On edge, you remember Ben’s words, to get back in your tent before it’s dark. You gather yourself quickly and place the envelope in your pocket and stand up.

Turning around, you let out a scream when your eyes fall on a certain soldier in blue.

Ben stood less than five feet before you. Oh, you’re shaking from the cold now—uncontrollably. The sight of him in his tattered blue jacket, silver tassels shining in the moonlight, was so overwhelmingly unexpected you didn’t know what to do. From the look on his face, you could see he was tired. His deep blue eyes looked half-closed and his smile was faint. His normally kept-up hair was falling loose from his braid—concern stirred in you all at once—did he fight today? His hand fell lazily on his sword at his side and the other loosely held his helmet. His yellow pants were covered in dirt.

He takes in the sight of you and softly smiles. He whispers your name.

When he sees you walking toward him, he drops his helmet to the ground and immediately embraces you with strong arms. You cry into his shoulder, holding him tight against you, as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, hushing you.

“It’s too late for you to be here alone. Anna told me I’d find you here,” Ben speaks aloud.

You don’t answer. You cry into his shoulder.

“Shh,” Ben whispers, “it’s all right, now.” Ben nuzzles his cold nose on your temple and kisses you softly there.

When you pull back, you meet his eyes and smile in relief. It had been too long since you’d been this close to Ben. He rests his forehead against yours. You touch his uniform, not caring it’s covered in dirt. When you place your hands on his chest, underneath his blue jacket, you feel something familiar under your fingertips.

Realizing that it was the piece of lace you gave him, that you nearly forgot about, you gasp.

“I wrapped it there the night I left you,” Ben stated, “it stayed on me the whole time.”

You smile in return, kissing his jaw. Ben places a comforting hand on the small of your back, the other grazing his fingers along your cheek.

“Did you read my letters?” He asks you earnestly.

“All of them,” you nod, “just now,” you admit to him. He furrows a brow, confused.

“I couldn’t muster the strength. I didn’t want it to be the last I had of you, God forbid anything happened. I wanted to save them for as long as I could,” you confess, feeling guilty for putting them off for so long. Ben shakes his head and hushes you again.

“It’s okay,” he tells you. Ben’s heart is pounding in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say, because he knows how much his absence has hurt you, has hurt him, and the best he could do was pre-write letters to you. And you deserved so much more than that.

But the only thing you could promise each other was the lace you gave him and the letters he wrote you. They mean much more than what they are—a premonition of the future. Interlaced by something stronger than wax and being tied together—love.

[pinkspiraling]

i need to die!! *screamscreamscreamscreams*

[ultimateaclrecovery]

I can’t believe how well thing are going with the boy.

We had our 8th date yesterday and I can not get over how much I like him and how much I like being with him. And how fucking attractive I find him. I know that if I go too fast physically I’ll end up regretting it and or cry and like no one needs that. It’s like a constant pull push between I just like want him all over in all the ways and making decisions that I’ll feel good about in the morning.

I’ve also been reading a book called shameless about being both sex positive and christen and how to counteract the church’s harmful purity and shame filled take on sex. It’s probably something I should have done a deeper dive way sooner in my life but like despite going on dates periodically I just never thought I’d get to the point in life where I like actually wanted to have sex with someone. And not out of any sort of obligation or that’s what people do but just like genuine desire.

But I very much need to not get to ahead of myself. For starters I’m not currently on birth control and that seems like a thing that should happen first. My last two periods have been hellish so I am interested in birth control for other purposes. But something about booking a gyno appointment because I started seeing someone is sitting oddly. Not necessarily badly but I don’t quite know how to name that feeling or sit with it. And at some point I will need to ask about sti and like probably buy condoms all of which feel impossibly hard somehow.

And then there’s the generalized nervousness stemming from the fact that every time we’ve hooked up so far we’ve gone just a little bit slowly. And when you start with just kissing, there’s is a lot of runway but we are rapidly running out of runway and I don’t quite know how to navigate that. Which isn’t the boy has been anything but super patient and never really pushing boundaries. The problem is me. I’m pushing the boundaries and then he’ll match me. And it’s like I want to, but it also makes me feel like a dumb teenager getting caught up in their emotions and struggling to make the best decisions. But like I also don’t really want to make more conservative decisions. (Jury is still all the way out on what even constitutes as best).

Anyway things are going really well, and I like him and that has me totally overwhelmed and feeling wildly unprepared

[parasolids]

we have this weekly director level meeting at my job now and it sucks so bad because people in my role are expected to speak in it too and the chief program engineer on the whole vehicle calls in and like actually listens and talks, like the guy two seats away from me had to have a whole convo with him. i think he left the meeting by the time it was my turn to go but im so embarrassed bc in todays meeting my headset decided to malfunction at the exact moment it was my turn. so there was a good minute of everyone in the office telling me my mic wasnt working and then saying it WAS working but then i couldn't hear anything on the call, and then my boss just had me go into his office and speak thru his mic since he had the call on speaker, but i got so nervous i kind of just word vomited out everything i'd prepared and then there were a few moments of silence before the design engineer i work with on that part just kinda kept going. and i was complaining about it to another design engr i work with who was on the call and he laughed about it and ppl were teasing me about it which was embarrassing and im worried i made myself look like a fool. ah well at least i didnt get grilled by the chief engineer on the whole vehicle line lol

[kuromi-hoemie]

GOD. I forget how much fun writing can be. I don’t actually like the semantics of writing out dialogue n stuff (yet?) but I really love coming up with lore and background information and putting a bunch of stuff together for references. 

That metroid dread post and my lil rant in the tags has only further inflamed my desire to make that story I have in mind REAL. I wanna do a Volume Zero type of story in webcomic format so it flows p nicely but def have some reading I need to do for reference.

I have my silly little google doc going though and idk I think if I can stick with it as a thing I keep coming back to for a creative outlet it’d be really fun as a way to work on both my drawing and my writing.

I figured at least while I’m being indecisive about the actual art style I could work on getting some other details together that will guide me later on.

If u are a metroid nerd and r interested in seeing my lil guiding document I would love 2 share a link (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) right now it's just some stuff hastily thrown together in the middle of my shift but i think it's shaping up into something Fun so far

[foolishfalls]

Writing her is its own reward but it really does mean so much when I update your body is a burning book and people say they enjoy my lil interpretation of Riza. She is so close to my own heart!!

Like I’m at a point where I’m getting better at just writing for pleasure and for myself, which is part of why I think my results are somewhat successful, and it has taken me being two years out of studying fiction writing in school, learning to let myself be and figure out how to work with my own voice (which has always been more of a poet’s voice and learning to lean into that with some amount of abandon has been sooo freeing) to get to a place where the process can just be what it is to accomplish this and the process and the results themselves just make me feel happy and fulfilled.

So like, Learning that others are enjoying it is just a huge lovely cherry on top. I’ve always struggled to share my work despite feeling an impulse to do so, so it feels like a great place to be with it.

So just a heartfelt thank you to anyone who takes the time to read and engage with my work!!! Nothing brings me joy the way getting a comment or kudos does! Huge wet kiss thru the phone/screen for all of u :3

[keirawantstocry]

the constant urge to make more sideblogs everytime i see smth i want to start reblogging but dont want on my fandom/main blog