#why am i making this so hard for myself i literally have the technology

[dirt-str1der]

Im like giggling and shit thinking about how me and dante are going to be vashwood , finally the four fingers will have me date every member (remembers im the number one vashwood hater) oh no

[guppygiggles]

Like Real People Do, Part 3! ♡ (Casper x Avery)

☁️ Summary: Avery explains where he's from and why he lives in the lighthouse. Casper takes Avery to the fair. Things get a bit more interesting between them.

☁️ Warnings: Very mild suggestive language, mild emotional scene, Real Actual Tickling™ This is a series now!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 *you are here

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

If you just got here and want to know more about my characters, you can read my comic starting right here!

"Wait, what? If you can do that, why didn't you do it when we met? Weren't you afraid I'd freak out?"

"Well... it takes a lot of energy, and it's not something I can do at the drop of a hat, either. It takes time to spin up. It also wears off after about an hour," he explained, pausing for a moment to take a sip of his drink, "and, yes... I was afraid you would freak out, but I also didn't know how long you would be unconscious. You were out for about twelve hours... I can't hold it for that long."

Avery shifted pensively on the couch, his eyes not meeting mine. My heart sank. He'd only been in my apartment for half an hour, and I had already upset him.

"Look, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. Please don't feel pressured to agree, okay? I won't be upset. We can do something else."

"Please don't misunderstand. I really want to go! I've admired the Ferris wheel from my lighthouse many nights; I've always wanted to see it up close. It's just that, I've never been around that many humans at once before. I'm concerned I won't... behave correctly. Casper, I... I don't want to get you in trouble, or embarrass you."

I stared at him, dumbfounded. I had to admit, it did make sense for a man whose only social interactions were Internet-based to be concerned about his first social outing. I just couldn't believe he was worried about embarrassing me. I shook my head, snorting.

"Dude, there's nothing you could do that would embarrass me, I am so cringe already on my own. As far as getting me in trouble, eh. I've been in trouble before," I said, smirking coolly. That was a lie. I was a total goody-goody who'd never gotten so much as a speeding ticket, but I was willing to risk it for him.

Avery chuckled uncomfortably. He still would not look at me. "So have I."

My eyes widened.

"Holy shit, like, with the law? Avery, you? What did you do?" It was hard to imagine this straight-laced man, in his neat little button-down and slacks, had done anything wrong in his life, much less run into legal trouble.

Avery looked down at his hands, then inhaled deeply. "To answer that, I think it would be appropriate to first explain why I'm here, living in that abandoned lighthouse, in the first place.

"I am from a place called Cirropa, way up in the mesosphere: The highest level of the atmosphere where clouds can still form. Your scientists think that noctilucent clouds are the only type that form there -- that isn't true. Above that layer is where sentient variants, like myself, are born. We just aren't detectable by human technology at that altitude. When you see noctilucent clouds, you are really just seeing the "floor" of Cirropa," he explained.

"Though clouds can't die of illness, pollution can still make us sick, just like it makes you sick. It also prevents new clouds from being born; sentient and mundane alike. A little is tolerable, but too much has a major impact on clouds as a whole. Your industrial revolution in the 1700s had such a deleterious effect on our population that we are now on the verge of extinction: That is why I'm here. I research weather patterns and pollution relief strategies, and collect data that your scientists don't have the technology to obtain, then anonymously provide it to organizations that are trying to enact change. I wanted to ensure that currency would never be a barrier for entry in terms of obtaining my services, because for me, the situation is quite literally life-and-death. So, I do it for free.

I don't often have need for physical things, but when I do, I steal them. Books, clothes, parts to maintain the devices I use to collect data, et cetera. I never take anything I don't need, including food -- I only know that I can eat food because I have occasionally found wild berries and such while conducting research, and, well... I'm a curious fellow."

He brightened a bit, to my great relief, then continued, "Despite the pollution and damage you cause, I still find humans endearing and fascinating. I know you are not all the same, and I feel true sorrow for those who are suffering like we are. The work I do is for them, too. But yes, I have been caught stealing before; I've even been chased by your authorities once or twice! I try not to steal from local businesses when I can avoid it, though. I don't want to hurt small shop-owners with families to feed. Robbing big-box stores is more dangerous, since it's easier to get cau- Casper, are you okay?"

When Avery finally looked at me, my eyes were glassy with tears that I was fighting to prevent from rolling down my cheeks. I hated crying in front of other people, but when I got emotional, it was impossible to hide -- my face flushed when I cried, too. Quickly, I turned into my shoulder and rubbed my tears on my sleeve. He was just so compassionate. My species was destroying his, yet he still held such tender curiosity and empathy for us; he still wanted to be there in my apartment, spending time with me. What could I say to that?

"Avery... whatever you need, just ask me, okay? I'll give you my phone number."

"Casper, I couldn't possibly-"

"Yes, you could. I'm not rich, obviously... but I make enough money. The work you are doing is so important, more important than anything I've ever done. I can't bear the thought of you putting yourself at risk when I can do something about it... especially since I literally owe you my life. I would have drowned yesterday if not for you. Please?" I implored from across the coffee table, my hands fidgeting in my lap.

Avery fidgeted a bit, himself, looking out the window for a moment.

"Alright, dewdrop. If you insist," he relented, smiling a little now.

"Yesss! Here's my number." He typed it into his phone, then gave me his. "So... we got a little off track. Do you still want to go to the fair? Like I said, no hard feelings if not."

He perked up again, his big smile a salve for my aching heart. "Yes!"

"Cool, let's do this transformation thing."

+++

"Erm. Could you turn around? I've never had someone watch me do this before," Avery asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, yeah, of course."

I spun around, facing the kitchen. From behind me, he took a deep breath.

"Remember, once I'm transformed, we have one hour. Okay?"

"Got it, no problem. The fairgrounds are a short walk away, and I'll set a timer on my phone."

"Okay."

First, there was silence. Then, a sound like crackling fireworks, which grew progressively louder until it was so loud, I was concerned my neighbor might hear it. In the blurry microwave window, I could see flashes of light, followed by the faint chlorine-like scent of ozone. The microwave clock informed me that this went on for three minutes, during which time the urge to peek was nigh-unbearable, but I stayed put. Then, there was silence again. After what felt like ages, Avery spoke, "Okay, you can turn around now."

I whirled, instantly catching my breath.

His face was essentially the same, but his puffy head shape had been compacted into that of a human skull, the top of which erupted in a cloud of fluffy, curly white hair. Peeking out from his curls I spied two delicate ears, and his previously white irises were now a playful cerulean, glimmering above his round, cherub-like cheeks. It took me a moment to realize my mouth was open, and close it.

"Do I look human?" He asked.

Avery didn't look human at all, he looked like an archangel, perhaps even a god in this form. 'Celestial' was the only word that seemed appropriate to describe his beauty, and yet... I felt a pang of regret. Though I was excited to take him to the fair, and I accepted this as the only way he could attend... I already missed his cloud form, and the soft, elegant curves of his real head.

So distracted was I, that I forgot to temper my response.

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen," I said, and in my heart I knew that I wasn't just talking about his face.

Avery flushed, and despite his human countenance, his blush was still blue.

+++

The glowing arc of the Ferris wheel grew larger as we approached, LED lights illuminating it in a rainbow of colors. It was a Monday night, and I noticed approvingly that the crowd had thinned considerably from the mass of patrons I had seen on weekends prior. As we walked under the colorful welcome awning, the aroma of popcorn, frying oil, and spun sugar engulfed us. The night was warm, and as I looked at Avery, his blue eyes reflecting the many lights looked like a sea of stars.

"What would you like to do, first? If you don't know, I'm happy to lead on," I offered.

"Oh, I'm so excited to ride the Ferris wheel, aren't you?"

I had been on Ferris wheels plenty of times in the past, but I had never been so excited to ride one as I was right then.

There was a short line for the attraction. I bought our tickets and we climbed into the colorful metal cart, which I noticed with delight was painted with a cheeful cloud motif. Unlike other Ferris wheels I had been on, this one had old-fashioned style carts with a single seat and an open top. I climbed in, and as Avery sat beside me, my heart fluttered nervously as his hip pressed against mine. The gate closed and we were off.

Though the night was warm, a gentle breeze caressed us as we ascended to the top of the wheel. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply the heady bouquet of food, sea and ride machinery. After a moment, I turned to Avery.

"Aren't you able to fly much higher than this thing can go?" I joked.

"Well, yes, but... it's nice to rest and take it all in, you know? Flying is fun, and freeing, true enough... but it can be tiring as well," he said, alabaster curls spilling over his shoulders as he looked up at the stars. Recalling how it felt to ride my skateboard, I could relate.

An unexpected sound broke my reverie.

"Hehe, stop it!" a female voice cried from below us.

I looked down, where two women were cuddled together in the next cart, seemingly on a date. Like Avery and I, they were pressed together in the confined space of the cart, and it seemed one of them was taking advantage of the other's immobility. I watched with a cocktail of elation and horror as she squeezed her partner's sides and scribbled fingertips on her kneecaps, making her squeal with laughter.

"Whatever they're doing down there sounds like fun," said Avery, elbowing me playfully. His nudge to my sensitive ribs sent a shockwave through my whole body, and it was all I could do to endure it without jumping, petrified to tip him off.

"I am going to DIE. How does this keep happening?!" I thought, feeling in that moment as though I were a character in the story of a tickle-obsessed blogger.

"H-haha, yeah, I think they're on a date," I choked.

"Are we on a date, too?" asked Avery, his innocent eyes now trained on me.

Sweat broke out along my hairline, my palms slick as I gripped the lap bar, my heart pumping like an engine piston. In my panic, my internal monologue rang out.

"Say something, quick! If you take too long to answer, it might make things awkward!"

"What do I say! What if I say it's a date and it makes him uncomfortable!"

"What if you say it isn't and he's crushed because he feels the same way you do!"

"BOTH OF THESE OPTIONS SUCK!"

"Do you want us to be?" I asked, summoning all of my courage to look him in the face. Even with his altered visage, behind those eyes, it was still him. There was no going back, now. Whatever he said was going to mean something for our relationship... whatever kind of relationship it was going to be.

"Hehe, well, I... I'll admit, I'm... I'm quite fond of you. But, I've never done this before, especially not with a human. I want to keep going, but, do you think we can take it slow? Isn't that... what real people do?"

"Avery, we can take this at whatever pace you want. I've got nothing but time, and I'm not going anywhere. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for," I replied, trying to hide my breathlessness. "And, for the record... I'm quite fond of you, too, cloudboy."

Avery flashed me his signature grin, making me melt like a snowcone in July.

"Then, it's a date."

He shifted a bit. Then he gently leaned his body against mine, and as he did, my heart soared like a kite off its string.

[lil-miss]

Azi’s Zim is Disabled Essay

So there are a lot of different interpretations about Zim being defective that exist. There are a lot of interpretations about what it means to be defective in the first place. I would like to propose that being defective, not only relates to neurodivergence and “non-desirable” behavior (anything that goes against the Irken regime) but also certain physical disabilities, in specific chronic illnesses.

I would like to draw a line here because I firmly believe that the Irken Empire would not give a shit about limb differences. They are technologically advanced (even if their technology is mostly stolen from other species) so, to them, it would be entirely cosmetic and one could simply get cybernetics. However, a problem with the body’s systems cannot be as easily addressed. Thus, Irkens with conditions, like these would be considered defective. Due to their condition, they cannot contribute in the same way as others if they can contribute at all. They would be considered a liability. That’s right, the space fascists are probably also eugenicists (shocking no one). I mean seriously, that’s pretty easy to see. They literally genetically engineer their own people to near perfection.

The only way for a genetic issue like this to happen with the way smeets are made would be because of some kind of cloning error. Anyone reading this probably knows that a popular headcanon about Zim is that he is the product of some kind of cloning error. This is a headcanon that I agree with. So, if Zim is the product of a cloning error what saying that he doesn’t have some kind of invisible disability like a chronic illness.

Putting the lore side, when you look at the Irken Empire, as a satirical representation of America, its greed, its disregard for citizens, and its imperialism, having Zim be disabled makes thematic sense. Zim is actively disregarded by and pushed out of Irken society, many people tend to interpret this as Zim being autistic or another neurodivergent parallel, which I agree with. However, why not take this a step further, why not make a Zim physically disabled?

The closest thing within fandom spaces that I’ve seen to interpreting Zim as disabled, is making Zim autistic or deaf/hard of hearing. However, when this is written it usually has little to no bearing on the plot of whatever is being written. It is almost always a superficial detail of some kind like the occasional mention of Zim having a hard time hearing something, not understanding subtext, or wearing a hearing aid.

I don’t think this is a problem within the Invader Zim fandom; I am well aware that there is just not much fic about disabled characters in which they are actively discussed as being disabled or their disability is important to the plot in some way. I am not blaming anyone for this issue, it’s just the fact that not many people write disabled characters. I think this problem mostly comes from the fact that people are scared of messing it up. Quick message: if you think that you have a good writing idea that involves a disabled character, make sure you do your research, but fucking write it! Even if they aren’t anywhere close to implied to being disabled in canon. What is the point of fanfiction if not to give fans the space to interpret the character however they please?

Apologies for the tangent but it was important. I’m going to shift the topic a bit, onto examining a symptom of chronic illness that I see in Zim within the canon. Specifically, I think that it explains one of the main inconsistencies in Zim’s character.

Many people including myself have noticed the fact that Zim is simultaneously very smart, but also very incompetent at times. This seems to be a contradiction because someone as smart as he is shown to be, logically, shouldn’t be making some of the mistakes that he does within the canon. And I have a plausible solution to this: brain fog. Brain fog is an overarching name for a collection of symptoms that includes an inability to focus and concentrate, confusion, unusually inhibited logic skills, feeling disoriented, as well as trouble remembering and comprehending information. If Zim was intermittently experiencing these symptoms, the inconsistency of him being simultaneously a genius and on many occasions almost completely incompetent would be explained. Brain fog is a symptom of a lot of different things, personally, I interpret it as chronic pain and immunodeficiency for my Zim headcanons and my AU.

Being able to deep dive into Fem Zim’s experience with her disability as she continues her story is important to me. Describing her chronic pain is important to me. Not having a fix for her condition is important to me. Having a character that is not just disabled, but who talks about their disability, has prose dedicated to their symptoms, and has it as an important part of their character building and development is something that I do not see. Let alone anyone with a similar condition to me. Zim is that character for me, whether it’s me going into specifics about Fem Zim’s symptoms within my own AU, or me as a kid, first getting into Invader Zim, and seeing so much of myself in Zim as a character.

You can interpret Zim however you want, I’m not telling you what to do. But I would like to point out that this is an entirely underutilized interpretation that in a fandom that has existed for over 20 years know I do not know of any other genuine instance of.

My only explanation for that is that y'all are cowards. /j

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

Open and Waiting (Chapter 3)

Summary: Tech is an Intelligent Dom in more ways than one, Hunter decides he’s had enough casual voyeurism for one day, and you continue to be a good little cockwarmer while remembering that time Crosshair spanked you.  

Relationship: Tech x f!reader, a little bit of Hunter x f!reader, mentions of Crosshair x f!reader, Echo x f!reader and Wrecker x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, cock warming, voyeurism, domination, submission, Dominant Tech, submissive reader, restraints, collar, wrist cuffs, sexual inexperience, inexperienced reader, naked reader, voyeurism, poor self-worth, spiralling thoughts, feelings, smut with feelings, polyamory, little bit of verbal degradation, praise kink, pretend sci-fi technology/science, pretend Star Wars planets and locations, not beta read, no use of y/n. Mentions of: Oral training, dildos, soft domination, finger sucking, fingers in mouth, spanking, impact play, humiliation, degradation, boot licking, penetration, after care, bruises, vaginal fingering, bacta as lube, video recording of sexual acts.   

Word Count: 1714 (Chapter 3)

Author’s Notes: Please read the warnings! And please let me know if you enjoyed it. Behold, more filth. 

I also wanted to make it clear that everything depicted in this fic is consensual and has been enthusiastically consented to by everyone involved. A lot of what is in this fic could be seen as quite intense, depending on your levels or limits *looks at the giant wall of warnings*. Please know that everyone involved is actively participating in safe kink practices and many open, honest and clear conversations are had between everyone, even if it is not explicitly described in the fic. If it helps, I have a background context detail for this AU that Tech maintains an up to date list of everyone's hard limits, interests and requests, and makes sure everyone's kink contracts are revisited every month and updated if required. None of the Batch tease him for it because they all take safe kink practices very seriously. I hope this comes across in the writing, both in previous and future chapters, but I also wanted to be clear about it here as well.  

Chapters: One, Two, Four, Five, Six | Ao3  

Open and Waiting (Chapter 3)

A hand immediately descends on my head, preventing any hint of movement and halting any further thoughts of trying to take more of Tech’s cock deeper into my mouth. There’s a weight to his hand, a solid presence and a warning. He knew exactly what I’d been trying to do. Sir had been unequivocally clear that I was not allowed to move and I’d just skirted very close to breaking that rule. 

Oh kark, I’ve displeased him. I can’t bear disappointing him and the punishment that follows is always Tech’s own special combination of humiliation, control and mental domination. He knows exactly how to slowly and painstakingly unravel me, all while ensuring that I’m the one begging for my descent into delirium. It always leaves me ruinously shattered and I really just wanted to be a good girl and warm his cock for him. I was doing so well. Why do I always try to bite off more than I can chew? Both metaphorically and literally, in this case. Though I am absolutely not moving anything now, especially not my jaw or mouth. Why did I have to try and push it further and do more? Tech explicitly told me not to move. I’m already pleasing him, why did I have to try and go further? It’s not like I—

Tech’s precise voice cuts through my spiralling thoughts. 

“Our submissive has been doing exceptionally well with their oral training and has been diligent and dedicated in their practice. She has shown consistent and admirable improvement in the length and depth that she is able to be orally penetrated. I am quite pleased with her progress and have no doubt she will turn into an excellent cock slut in time and with continued guidance."

The praise hits me deep in the chest, flaring out to run down my arms and I can’t stop myself from preening at his words. Tech knew. Of course he knew. He’s far too intelligent not to notice when my brain starts running away from me. 

“Hmmm, she’s pretty good already.” Hunter adds. “And watching her suck away at those training dildos that can be mounted to the walls is always a good watch.”

“Yes. Those were an excellent invention of mine.” Tech confidently replies.

“Do you think you’d be able to install a hidden or quick release one on the side of a chair in the cockpit?” asks Hunter. “I prefer to keep her at my knee and it’s easier to control her movement when she’s close by.”

Another shiver runs over my naked skin at the thought. I do enjoy serving at Hunter’s knee. It’s a remarkably peaceful and calming experience. One that has nearly caused me to fall asleep on more than a few occasions. We usually do it when he takes watch. Sitting at his feet, my body leaning against his leg and my head resting against the side of his knee, the blue lights of hyperspace dancing behind my eyelids. Hunter usually keeps me in place with a single hand on my head or wrapped around the nape of my neck. Sometimes I’ll end up sucking on his fingers. Other times he’ll gently run the pad of his thumb or fingers up and down my tongue and I end up drooling on his armour or the floor. I often worry about making a mess but he always reassures me that it doesn’t bother him at all. If anything, it’s actually a good thing. Apparently, all the sensations help to ground him. Having one particular impression to focus on helps to reduce the rest of his senses to background noise. If that’s what it takes to lessen the constant barrage of feedback on his enhanced senses and afford him a moment of relative peace then I will happily have my tongue used as a resting pad for his thumb or fingers. 

Just like it’s currently being used as a resting place for Tech’s cock.

The owner of said cock provides a clipped response to Hunter’s question. 

“Of course I can. I already have plans for such a modification. Would you prefer the pilot’s or co-pilot's chair?”

“Pilot’s.” answers Hunter. “It’s your invention. Besides, Echo might be a bit peeved if he walks into the cockpit one day to find a dildo attached to the armrest of his chair.”

“An amusing discovery, I’m sure.” Tech replies, his dry wit in full force. 

The conversation continues on above me, both of them completely ignoring my bound and open position on the floor. It’s like I’m not even here. They could be having the same conversation over caf or while Tech is torso deep in the guts of the Marauder fixing the latest thing to go wrong with the ship. His legs always end up splayed wide apart when he’s working like that. If I wasn’t so desperate to please and had just a little bit of brat in me, I’d probably eventually snap and go down on him then and there. 

“Nah it’s a fair way off. The towns here are fairly isolated and spread out.”

Hunter’s smokey voice interrupts my rapidly degenerating fantasies about blowing Tech in all sorts of compromising positions. I guess they’ve moved on from talking about me like I’m not even there, despite the fact that I’m right here on my knees under the workbench.

“The others are going to be on their supply run for a while.” Hunter adds.

“Yes. I estimate that they will be away for another 3 hours and 16 minutes.” Tech responds.

“Do you need anything from me before I go back to arguing with this schematic of that Seppie base?” asks Hunter.

“Some peace and quiet would be appreciated. Unless you wish to watch?” Tech’s suggestion hanging in the air.

“Nah, she’s all yours. I’ve got my own ideas for when I get her next. Besides, her arousal’s so strong I can basically taste it.” Hunter comments.

The verbal debasement makes my pussy drip and my mouth somehow even wetter.

“Do not let me keep you from your work.” Tech replies, a clear dismissal and indication that this conversation is over.  

Hunter just snorts in response and turns on his heel before heading back to the bow of the ship. The cockpit door closes and then it’s just Tech and I again in the still silence. The only interruption is the movement and scraping of tools above me as Tech dedicates his full focus to the project in front of him.

Well, maybe not his full, complete focus. 

Tech’s other leg has started bouncing. I can feel the small movements through his thigh where my cheek is currently resting. He always does this when there’s something competing for the attention of his prodigious intellect. The warm, wet presence of my mouth wrapping around his cock must be doing a fairly decent job of distracting him. I wonder how much longer this is going to last? Probably not 3 hours and 16 minutes, unless Tech feels like adding more voyeurism to today's antics. Crosshair always enjoys getting a good eyeful when he can. An amusing attribute for someone who can be a tad possessive when he gets me to himself. I would rib him about it but teasing Crosshair is like playing with fire while doused in petrol and carrying lit matches. That man knows exactly how to cause and wield pain. His sadistic streak is as glaringly obvious as his facial tattoo. Our sessions together are often fairly intense and are a clear reminder of his predilection towards inflicting pain and the satisfaction he gains from watching me disintegrate under his hands. I’d rather not give him even more ammunition, especially after overhearing a brief snippet of a conversation he had with Tech about an idea for an implement that involved spikes.

A shudder runs through me at the thought and I can almost feel the phantom stings across my hide from when our sniper flayed my ass last time. It had been a phenomenal experience, pain and pleasure intertwining into a heady mix of sensation that was impossible to discern where one finished and the other began. Hunter and Echo had watched as Crosshair completely broke me apart, fierce slaps followed by biting strokes of his cane striking again and again over my ass. There is nothing quite so exquisitely humiliating as being reduced to a sobbing and quaking puddle on the floor and then being forced to lick the boot of your current dominant. Of course, he had to take it up a notch by pulling my head up by my hair so I was forced to look straight at the leadership team of my own squad as they observed my pathetic attempts at following Crosshair’s commands. 

It’s a little hard to clean leather with your tongue when you keep crying on it. 

By the time Crosshair was fucking me into the floor, I don’t think I was cogent or present enough to do anything other than lie there and just take it. I hadn’t been quite so physically, mentally and emotionally broken by a scene like that for a while. Thank the Maker they all know exactly what they’re doing when it comes to after care. It had taken me a long time to come back to the world after that, those long limbs wrapped around me like a shield, quiet affirmations murmured in my ear. For someone so outwardly caustic, Crosshair can be remarkably soft when he is so inclined. The bruises he left were an astounding array of blues, purples and blacks. I could barely move properly afterwards and sitting was an exceptionally slow and ginger process. A later application of bacta gel helped but that had quickly devolved into being fingered with bacta gel while bent over the medbay bed. Tech had made some comment about this not being it’s intended use when he walked in halfway through but by that stage Crosshair had two long fingers deep inside me and was running rings around my clit and I did not care. At least it gave Tech another recording of me climaxing to add to his collection. Apparently, I am a “most cooperative subject”. 

Crosshair had actually laughed at that. 

–––  

Author’s Note: Please let me know if you enjoyed it! 

I’ve realised that I appear to be writing this mainly in first person from the perspective of the reader, and in present tense, apart from the memories sections (not sure they really count as proper flashbacks). I know the summaries make use of ‘you’ and so appears to be in second person but I think the majority of this is in first person, or at least I’m trying to keep it as consistent as possible. It’s probably all over the shop though so the ‘not beta read’ warning definitely applies here. 

Reader is not named and is referred to as she/they, you/you’re (when spoken to), submissive or their (the Batch’s) submissive, various derogatory terms (slut, whore etc.), and other more general affectionate terms (darling, dear etc.) and Mando’a endearments (mesh’la, cyar'ika etc.). The latter of these mainly appear in the aftercare scene, which is still so far away at this point. Why have I done this to myself? Write fanfic, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. *sobs* The reader is referred to in a generally objectifying manner, like something that the Batch owns without being explicitly possessive about it, and there is absolutely no use of y/n (guess which fanfic writing trope I can’t stand).   

Tech finally starts to play with you in Chapter 4 and the filthiness factor ratchets up again (somehow). 

Taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @skywlker-sluvtt @techs-assistant @dangraccoon @iamburdened @pheesupremacy @blondie-bluue @motte-the-goblin

[from-izzy]

addressing my health and writing!!

fun fact: i'm rereading this post as careful as i can because i wrote ~90% of this post with my eyes closed!!

hi everyone!

the title of this post seems so serious but also not so serious at the same time...? 😅

anyways! this is just me updating a little bit of my health and how it's been affecting my writing.

on january 31st 2022, my psychologist wrote a letter to my school addressing that he 'has...identified that [I have]...Sensory Processing Disorder' (words quoted by the letter that was sent out). as far as i'm aware, i specifically have sensory modulation disorder.

i'll try to keep this concise and to the point. in terms of my spd in general, four of my five senses are hypersensitive with my top two being visual and hearing.

i recently just found out an important info by quite literally timing myself. i stayed in my room, lights out and in the dark for 20 mins. during that time, i did nothing but just stare at the ceiling (or i don't know, the spider that went past too) and jammed to some music. after, i started to write.

there is small time gap of 14 mins before i felt a twitch in my right eye. there is a small 1 min gap after when i started to get a headache. for me, i knew this before but i was afraid to admit it especially when i love writing so much but it's clear now that i am hypersensitive to lights.

that's why (at least, i personally feel like this) my writing quality has decreased drastically and writing errors are more apparent than ever. i get people to proofread for me but i'm really bad in asking for help so i usually just try to do it myself to the best of my abilities. the way i explain scenes have also been more boring and bland, and i want to tell you that if you think so too, you're most probably right! it frustrates me more than anything.

i'm trying to find ways to counter this or at least make the time gap bigger. i recently found out that writing in the dark, phone brightness down to the lowest helps and i was able to write for about ~40 mins before i started to get a headache. but unfortunately for my sleep hygiene, no technology should be in my room (i even moved my piano out of my room because of this) and so, i am trying to find another way.

another way i found is that closing my eyes works. fun fact: i'm rereading this post as careful as i can because i wrote ~90% of this post with my eyes closed!! yes it works but you can imagine how hard it can be.

if i can be fully honest, it's actually really hard for me to both read and write these days as well because there is no way i can make out the words without any form of light. when the headache strikes, it strikes and walking in a straight line can become difficult sometimes. the reality is that it's hard to write without reading and it sucks that i can't support anyone's work at the moment, especially when they have supported me so much (i'm so sorry to all the writers out there). there is nothing much i can do right now but to remember and learn the stories in my head as references when i write.

i'm still exploring for more ideas but if you have any ideas, do tell! i would love to try them out!

but i'm not going to stop writing! not when i have ideas to write and stories to share! it's just going to be slow and i'm planning to take it in a pace where i can handle. like i've mentioned before, i don't want to release stories that i'm not proud of.

thank you everyone for the support so far! 'double a decade' reached 100+ notes in less than a week! that's so crazy for me, thank you 😭💕

[charmixpower]

Mythix rankings!! Kill me!!

Now let me get a complaint out of the way

THIS!!!! THE FUCKING FLOWERS!!!!

How are we going to design a mythical transformation??? Put all the girls in the same length homecoming dresses and glue a bunch of random flowers on them

Why are they're so many flowers everywhere! Why does Stella have so many flowers on her??? Why do they keep doing this to Stella???? They went really hard on the flowers for Tecna too???? You cover the fairy of technology in flowers???? For what????

Anyways I hate all the flowers!!! I hate them!!! I hate them so much!!! Why are they all covered in flowers???

Telling you all now so I don't break off into a rant about the flowers in each ranking, because god I would

Oh and all of their skirts are the exact same length, with the same collar for most of them, and only Stella has different sized boots. Because individually is above their pay grade

1) Bloom

Her wings in Mythix???? Flat out gorgeous. They look like layered flames and I love them so much, I wish they were on a better transformation in a better written season

Her dress is the least offensive to my eyes, with some mild visual interest. The arm warmers are cute. It looks so ugly in 2d but in 3d it's tolerable, that shade of blue and purple are pretty together. Over all I love her color palette and wings, and I do not see the rest of it

2) Flora

I am OBSESSED with her wings. Like they TRULY have a vibe I'd associate with the name Mythix. They look old and worn, with the holes in them, but still powerful. Like an ancient set of wings Flora got for herself, and it's such a cute visual

Flora being covered in a petal dress is lazy but easily the least egregious because she is the fairy of nature so it at least matches her personality and powers

3) Tecna

TENCA'S WINGS ARE WEIRD AGAIN!!! NOW MAKE THEM WEIRDER!!!!! I love how geometric they are they look so strange, perfect perfect perfect

Her heels are also metallic which is sufficiently weird

Tecna would literally never wear that dress however, at least it's pointy, but it's a complete flop on the weird scale. Make it weirder. Make it cyber. Make it Tecna

4) Aisha

Why is she a red head again. Well with Wow and s8 I think we know why

Anyways her wings are ready mid. They kinda look like a plant and I'm physically restraining myself from saying anymore about that. Her heels are weird in a fun way, and she has what looks like an ice skaters dress on?? I have no clue why they put Aisha in that but whatever. It's better than Flora's dress, win

5) Stella

Her wings are almost good but I hate the shape of them. The colors are gorgeous though

Anyways Stella's dress is boring and the FUCKING CORSAGE. AHHHH. I'm normal I'm normal

Anyways her dress is so fucking boring and literally for what!!! It's just orange!!!!

Her purple part under her skirt and the fabric over her boots also look like fire???? For some reason?????? Like it looks like a mix of a Bloom and Flora outfit and it drives me up the fucking wall

6) Musa

I like her corset, it looks like musical staffs

Thats it

Her wings look like moth wings, her hair is so ugly, her shoes have weird staff plant things on them, her skirt is weird and fuzzy, her hair things are weird and fuzzy

HELP HELP HELP HELP IM DYING TO DEATH

[violentlyexplosive]

man, trying to find good fan-written work featuring a blind/visually impaired character (or reader) is like wading through waterfalls of literal shit. like I hate being mean about this kinda stuff, I understand not everyone on the planet knows what it's like to not be able to see properly, but for the love of GOD, GOOGLE IT. OR ASK SOMEONE. OR JUST DON'T WRITE ABOUT SOMETHING YOU KNOW LESS THAN NOTHING ABOUT.

if you're hell bent on writing a visually impaired or blind person, here are some quick pointers so you don't come across as an ableist prick:

99% of us don't hate being blind. some of us were born this way. others have had plenty of time to come to terms with whatever happened to us. for a whole lot of us, it is simply a fact of life, and not something we even really think a lot about on a day to day basis. I am sure there are tons of low vision people out there that do hate it, but it is an incredibly individualised and nuanced experience. please for the love of all literary goodness, don't do the whole "oh woe is me, I'm blind, however will I go on!!!" thing. it's tired, overdone, and frankly a little insensitive.

WE DON'T JUST SEE DARKNESS. WE DON'T SEE BLACK. WE DO NOT SEE. for some people, like myself, we have significant vision loss, but can still see clearly enough to move through life without much difficulty. for others, they might have large blind spots, and small sections of vision to rely on. only a very small percentage of us have absolutely 0 vision, and in those cases, it isn't "darkness" or "pitch black" that one sees- it is nothing. I know it can be hard to wrap your head around, but a common example used is: bend your arm and point your elbow forward. what does your elbow see? nothing, right? not blackness, not darkness- just the absence of sight. that is what total blindness looks like.

ok, so I'm aware this one people are getting better about, but it bears repeating: blind people do not touch faces to "see" them. why the fuck would we do that. I'm sure with close family members, romantic partners, or even friends, it may be something one does just for the fuck of it, or to make note of a specific feature (i.e. hair texture, nose shape, scars, etc,) but nobody is out here using their fingers to map out people's faces just on the reg. do you have any idea how awkward that would be. I don't know where your face has been, and I'd frankly rather just imagine the specifics of your features and admire your blurry visage WITHOUT my fingies, thank you very much.

OUR OTHER SENSES ARE NOT MAGICALLY ENHANCED. we're not superheroes, we're disabled. sure, over time, we might come to rely on our other senses more, and hone them better, but we're not fucking Daredevil. I can't hear the buzzing of my lightbulbs because I'm legally blind and super cool (unfortunately,) I hear them because I'm fucking autistic.

a good chunk of us don't know how to read braille. an unfortunate side effect of having text to speech functions on phone cameras is the loss of this skill. if i can't read something, I ask someone else to read it for me, or I take a picture and zoom in. braille differs from country to country, language to language, etc etc. even if I learned Irish braille (written as Gaeilge, by the way, so not even in English!) I would not be able to read braille in my native language of Swedish. and beyond drugstore products, it typically isn't used much. I've rarely, if ever, found braille menus, instruction manuals, books, etc. and with modern technology, learning and knowing braille is falling increasingly out of style.

not all blind eyes look milky/all white. my fully blind eye is constantly closed, but my functioning, legally blind eye is perfectly normal in appearance. in fact, you've probably met one or two people in your life who would qualify as legally blind/low vision who function and, through all outward appearances, are no different from you.

we are not weak little babies that need protecting. I'd argue that visually impaired people can probably get around better than some fully sighted people, purely because we're forced to be more aware of our surroundings. not to mention some of us have guide dogs or friends/family/what-have-you to help us manoeuvre when necessary. just because we can't see well doesn't mean we're damsels in distress incapable of wiping our own asses. we're people with personalities and skill sets and life experiences, not infants.

ok so I'm sure this has come across as aggressive and/or rude, but yknow what? I don't particularly care anymore. I have seen far too many ignorant and uneducated people try to write or otherwise portray blind/visually impaired characters using guesswork and stereotypes from television, and I've just hit a wall in terms of being able to disregard it and not care. I do care. a whole lot, apparently. I'm tired of seeing random people on the internet deciding they'll write a low vision character and butchering it so terribly it makes me physically cringe. if you have to write a character with a visual disability, I implore you to read a fucking book, google it for 15 minutes, hell, make a reddit post or something to ask actual visually disabled people about their experiences so you're not making a fool of yourself, talking out of your ass and insulting an entire category of human beings. it is that easy.

[goodolddumbbanana]

Alex vauge you in a post, essentially implying that you're not supportive of Cluster A, B, C people regardless if they're high functioning or low functioning

I have blocked Alex, because you know why... They call me ablest out of place but things were resolved quickly due to the fact I don't want to interact with them anymore. It would be so kind of you if you point it out or link it for me cuz I don't want to talk bad about people without any evidence.

Because If the things you said are true, and they are drowning my name in sand right now, then well...

To confirm if anyone who thinks I am ablest or not support people with high or low functioning.

I am literally on Cluster B. (Some bad day, these doctors claim me on A or C. These assholes.) And I never open my mouth about any words related to these mental illnesses cuz I am not comfortable talking much about these kinds of topics yet not until last year.

(anxiety, depression, paranoia, can't express myself through words and thoughts, intrusive thoughts... I am a pretty mess of a person and I am not good with technology or internet thingy. Furthermore, I'm bad at English in general and my cognitive thinking process skill is very horrible. So I doubt I have a chance to talk badly or be non-supportive or ablest about it.)

Also. I don't care about people. Not at all. Call it because of low empathy or I am just in the phase while I still hate the world, but my mindset is just: 'you do you, I do I, we don't interact with each other.'

Because It is your thing, not mine. So I have no authority on judging people who like that. Being on Cluster is just like Only you have to wear double wet socks 24/7, it makes you very uncomfortable and irritated.

It doesn't make me want to antagonist them or hate them, or look down to them. Like.... It is not my wet socks, ya know what I mean. And sure I can understand or try to make you be more at ease. But it is only you who has the ability to fix your hardness, not me. Because I don't know you, I just know if you slap your wet socks on my face, it will be a different story.

Cuz If I hate someone, it would be because of their personality, not their mental illness.

I would never call you a jerk or manipulative sh*t on some sociopath thingy or aspd myth bullsh*t. I only call you that, because you hurt me and break my truth.

Being sick is not an excuse, it is just an explanation. You know that you have, and you find some way to fix it or live with it without hurting others.

And when you accidentally lashing out, you fix it, or try to fix it. Or else, people will eventually leave you because they don't like negative things.

(it is just common sense. like when I am lash out , I apologize or just get away, cuz I know I would be worse.)

It is not fair for you to have these sicknesses because you couldn't control them, but still it is not fair for people who had to bear your emotional outbursts and live with it.

[muted5ilence]

Do you wonder if the rising prices and shitty economic and political and societal and environmental stuff as a whole is kind of just to do

Erm

I dont know terms well enough, but…

Weaken everyone who can’t afford it so only the elite few survive selfishly?

If you are weak you will eventually die off

If you are weak you wouldn’t be able to fight back

But this is why a bundle of sticks is so strong compaeed to a single stick.

But they’re making sure that bundles cant form. And even if we could, they use growing technology and destroying those sticks from the inside out to ensure those bundles can be broken. Every time. Without fail.

The longer it goes on, one of two things happens. One day these twigs will finally piece themselves together, and be able to overpower the technology that breaks them repeatedly

Or they all die, rot in the ground, to be consumed by the fungi and such that take the decay to keep themselves and their interconnected web alive.

Like the whole deal with capitalism at this point (which is why I’ve liked other ideals a little more when its combined for the BETTER) is that you take advantage of others for your own gain. Be unique enough to be successful to survive, but be smart enough to abuse those that are not smart enough. Eventually it perpetuates a cycle of stupider and stupider people, weaker and weaker, more compliant and complacent. That’s what work has always been, afterall. Which is what school was meant to teach. It teaches you to be compliant, to obey, to work and toil away with your life for meaningless grades until you die. The teachers dont benefit much beyond their meager pay. Students dont benefit because the system actively DENIES what they need to learn to FUNCTION. The only beneficiaries are the ones above ALL of them. The government and corporate entities that feed off of those stupid drones. Teachers, like many workers, are NOT paid enough to actually care, and are stuck being unable to do anything. If they tried to change things or speak out or do anything that might be considered manipulating the kids to believe smth specific, anything to get people to care, they could get fired and lose their lifeline. So they’re stuck in complying in order to survive.

This should not be how a society functions EVER, but it’s the BARE BONES ENDLESS CYCLE. Wars, revolution, etc etc. Every dystopia has this. I am reminded of the promised neverland.

We shouldn’t have to feel like we need to fight back against oppressors. You always root for the underdog because that’s literally how it works in society anyways.

I’m getting mixed up in my train of thought, hard to focus, but my point still stands. Flowers blooming in antarctica had made me break down over life. I want to die but I know I can’t. I can’t kill myself or let myself die. I care too much, I think. I can’t really tell inside my head, but I think some part of me (could be survival instinct, could be smth else) is just too stubborn. I can’t NOT have hope for the future!!! I can’t!!

I can’t stop myself from hoping things will be okay in the end, which is the only reason I can’t die. Because I need to live to see better days again. Despite the objective fact that there may never be better days in all senses.

Society sucks because people are just… selfish, close-minded, and disrespectful? Like in general? All things that have likely been cultivated BY the whole capitalist system.

Politics sucks because it became capitalist. And considering the whole Palestine genocide, I am pretty sure that capitalism is just as bad if not worse than communism at this point. Could be fascism but like I said before, I’m not great with terms. But its colonialism, too. Politics sucks because it’s ran by the elderly usually, or by idiots. I stand by statements I’ve made that experts should be the ones in charge. People who have done the research, have the knowledge, who care about it actively and always, SHOULD BE THE ONES IN CHARGE OF THOSE THINGS.

It kinda bleeds into the whole mental health issues that happen, because you have people who aren’t professionals saying that people dont have any issues. Inherently, those people must have issues of their own. But they have to be out of touch or selfish or close minded (which ig is related to out of touch) BUT ESPECIALLY disrespectful to do such things. And the only ones who can actively make things RIGHT with the people who HAVE the problems, say it with me… ARE PROFESSIONALS!!

Professionals, being people who were interested in the topic, did the research, learned the skills and have the knowledge, and actively care.

You are not a professional if you do not care. Then it’s just a profession. You are simply a worker at that point.

We are led by idiots. Not professionals. Perhaps professional politicians. But that just means professionals at looking good and appealing to others. Professional actors. Actors should not get that seat of power. You cannot act your way out of your genuine beliefs and behaviors—or even lack thereof. The fate of society should NOT be determined by a popularity contest, but even in school that’s promoted!!

I stand by my belief. Professionals in the specific fields of study should be in charge, and not the ones who haven’t done the research or put in enough work (like they insist the newer generations should do). This is an idealized and general series of statements from someone who doesn’t have in-depth knowledge of language: Historians should probably be in office in the way that they could be advisors. They know what has happened, how it happened, how it affects things, and how it should be avoided. Economists should probably be the ones in charge of how the economy goes, even though I’m sure they work more like commentators. I think just in general that a whole advisory council should be made of professionals. And you need someone who knows how to listen and critically think, who cares about society as a whole, to run the country if we follow a similar structure. Traditional checks and balances are not working!!!

I was told by my U.S. History teacher, a male history teacher that I enjoyed for the time I had him (before covid hit): Normal people should be running this country. But they wouldn’t want to.

It’s so fucking true, too. But like… have a council. Of professionals. Professionals IMPLYING that they care. Not workers. Workers leads to compliance, complacency. To a damn salary.

Have people who actively research things and always want to learn and keep up with those specific things, be in charge of those things!! They know more! And it should be because they fucking CARE!

If you want this stupid structure to work, with a president, then a qualifier should NOT be age. Obviously boomers are fucking stupid anyways at this point because they’re out of touch, stuck in the past. You need an open-minded individual, who actually has a heart, that can make the right decisions! Especially in times of crisis.

Please. Let it be that people who are stronger than I am are able to fight for these things. Fight for the good causes.

I’m not mentally, physically, nor emotionally strong enough for this. I’ve been sheltered. I’m cursed with so many mental issues from trauma and abuse and likely the ways my brain wouldve been structured anyways. I could never progress at the fast pace that is expected. And I am not strong enough to fight like I wish I could.

I am simply a dreamer. Someone that has been left isolated for so long that I can only think. About nothing, about everything. And I wish I could lose hope, that I could kill myself, but I can’t. I’m a coward, always have been. I could never set myself free in rebellion to fight. I would get killed by someone sent to do so. And you would lose another human life. Insignificant only when you consider humans as stock, a number in a category. But every individual matters, I promise you. I don’t do much, but I’d like to be a person who supplies hope.

(Seriousness aside, I’ve literally been called an “emotional support creature /aff”, and a “perfect friend”, so I am completely fine with this support role.)

Please… Let there be people who can understand such messages, and who are stronger than me. Because power has always mattered in societies. Don’t let money = power in the end. Money can change, because that’s what is valued in exchange. It’s all bartering. Please, do not let cotton and paper have a higher value than that of human lives. Houses have a higher value than human lives do in the current economic state. The VALUE placed on HUMANS and THEIR POTENTIAL should NOT be LESS than that of the OBJECTS MADE BY HUMANS

Break this system down. Make it bad for business if thats what they care about. And once one thing ends, dont stop. Keep forcing their hand. Make sure that the corrupt system used to overpower us is unable to do so. If you recognize they are making advancements to increase force used, I see no reason that we couldn’t do the same. Dont play games. Its not a game. It’s life. They will see it as a game because they are winning, they made the little game with a handicap in thei favor. Turn the tables. Treat them like a game. Show them it’s more than that. Show them that it is good to care. That they dont care, and they should.

Ideally no mass self-destruction lmao, ik they need workers to supply themselves and we are the workers, so dying would mean no more supply, but they have technology on their side as time goes on, so they still dont care.

You have to make sure they CARE. CARE can do good.

Have hope for a better future where people care. Dont stop caring. If you stop caring, you comply. If you comply, you die. Hope fosters care. Have hope. If you lose hope, you cant care, and that is quite literally why suicide rates get so high, isn’t it? A hopeless situation?

That is my message. My belief. And I have certain beliefs I will always hold. They are what keep me from killing myself, afterall.

Let Hope foster Care to work with Action to bring Change.

Its the ideal family system (/hj).

[rainy-circle]

What are your Zora headcanons for the old farts (affectionate) like Seggin, Trello, Muzu?

VIBRATES EXCITEDLY

putting a cut here because this got long. no surprise there

OKAY SO HCs for all three/the Zora elders in general:

All Zoras automatically become a member of the Council of Elders once they reach a certain age (390 in my notes, don't ask me why that specifically I don't remember), but they can become a member as early as 300 if the other Council members approve and they want to be.

In game there's only 6 members, but in the process of making family trees for everyone I ended up inventing a lot of grandparents, so in my notes there's like... I think at least 20 kicking around?

all three were once married but their spouses have since passed, for differing reasons I'll get into!

(I made myself promise that I'd only add a name to a Zora in the family trees if they actually came up in the story, because if I did name all of them I would've driven myself insane. So their spouses don't have names currently but idk maybe one day in the future they will!)

MUZU

Muzu's actually quite a bit older than King Dorephan, but the two of them have known each other and been friends for a long time - they had a bit of an intergenerational friendship when Dorephan was young/a kid and Muzu was a teen/young adult. Muzu was the Domain's main librarian and young Prince Dorephan was shy and hung out there a lot and a friendship happened eventually.

Muzu's wife was a stoneworker and helped do a lot of the little repairs that we see Fronk and Ledo doing in-game. She's probably part of the reason the Domain has such a cool art nouveau style to it. (Maybe she is even the stoneworker who made the Zora Stone Monuments that Link has to go find, which also means she's the one who just straight up forgot to sign her name. I find the thought of Muzu being married to a woman like that hilarious.) She passed away peacefully during the time Link was in the Shrine of Resurrection, at the age of 394.

They decided at some point that they were happy going without children of their own, preferring to help raise the rest of the Domain's children as kind of aunt and uncle figures. I imagine this decision, plus Muzu's long standing friendship with Dorephan, is what made Muzu particularly close to Mipha, and why her death hit him so hard.

SEGGIN

Seggin has one of the smallest family trees because it's literally just Him + Wife = Bazz. I think at one point I did toy around with the idea of Bazz having a sister and Tottika and Torfeau being his niece and nephew, but for one reason or another I decided to make him a single only child. I feel like because of this Seggin is absolutely one of those parents who's like WHEN ARE YOU GETTING MARRIED. I WANT GRANDCHILDREN.

In addition to making family trees for everyone I also sort of gave each family a motif animal that their headcanon appearances are based off of, because who says the Royal Family gets to have all the fun. Seggin and Bazz are based off of eels, and Seggin's specific animal is of course, an electric eel. That's why he's the only Zora in the Domain who can handle firing electric arrows.

I had Seggin's wife down as a kind of scientist who studies mushrooms, but like. I'd have to boot up the game and see what kinds of mushrooms grow around the Domain, if any?? Do they sell Rushrooms in the shop or am I just making that up. ANYWAY, she died during the incident detailed in the "King Dorephan Stands His Ground" monument, when a rogue corrupted Guardian rampaged through the Domain. Losing her to a bit of corrupted Shiekah technology + his status as a retired knight + the above point about being the one electric eel Zora = his determination to bring down Vah Ruta without outside help.

TRELLO

In my very earliest versions of my notes I wanted to give one of the 6 canon elders a husband and I originally had it as Jiahto, but I guess in the various revisions I forgot that and Jiahto definitely has a wife, so FUCK IT it's Trello now, Trello's the one with a dead husband.

I can't remember if it's canon that Trello is also a retired knight or if I just headcanon'd that to fit with his son and granddaughter. Either way I imagine Trello's husband was a healer, and that's how they met and fell in loooooove.

This may be my headcanon colouring things, but if I remember correctly Trello seems kinda... grumpy and sullen in the game even after you cleanse Vah Ruta, and find the Ceremonial Trident. This is yet again tied to grief and survivor's guilt. See, Trello actually had two sons, and both Rivan's older brother and Trello's husband died in one fell swoop when the Calamity happened. I imagine Trello and Rivan's relationship can be a bit strained sometimes because of it.

TL;DR - there is a LOT of survivor's guilt and grief in, I imagine, pretty much any settlement that survived the Calamity, but it's particularly bad amongst the elders of the Domain because they just live so long and witness so much. They're all generally good, caring, family-oriented Zoras, but like, considering all the shit they went through and how helpless they were to stop any of it, it makes a lot of sense to me that they decided to pin the blame and guilt on Link.

[shiroxix]

hey gamer, 2, 12, 18, 22, 27, 29, 31

2. Game you are currently playing.

Baldur's Gate 3. That's actually why I didn't answer these. I reblogged that post and then went to play BG3 and completely forgot about it. I even read this ask on my phone before getting on and whoops... 12. A character you particularly like in the game you are currently playing.

Aw geeze. There are a LOT of NPCs I'm super endeared to, but everyone's gonna wonder who my favorite of the main companions is and that is... really hard. I am currently in the middle of Act 2 (0 spoilers for me please) and so far each of them has done something to make me angry at them, so while I like them, I am not currently overly fond of anyone in-particularly. Besides Withers. Withers is perfect and I kiss his perfect head. (It's Wyll, I like Wyll the most as a person, but I can't stand how he approaches romance (monogamy is gross!) so I can't fuck him, unfortunately.) 18. A game location you really like.

There are so many. Ancient Cistern (Skyward Sword) is my favorite Zelda dungeon, hands down. I think it's gorgeously designed both game-play wise and visually. I also really love Clock Town from Majora's Mask. I also found myself super endeared to Tarry Town in Breath of the Wild and then Hateno Village in Tears of the Kingdom. Something about Zelda games is so... cozy. Special shout out to Eruyt Village and Golmore Jungle from FF12. 22. A game ending that really stuck with you.

Off by Mortis Ghost really got me. I think about that one a LOT. Also the end of Final Fantasy X killed me as a child. But Tears of the Kingdom is at the top of this list right now. 27. A game you love the atmosphere of.

Final Fantasy XIV. Majora's Mask was also a contender for this title. As was Undertale, really. But FF14 has a way of making it feel like I am coming home every time I open it up. Something about it just puts me at ease. 29. On average, do you have one game or multiple games going at a time?

Usually just the one. I have ADHD-I (inattentive type), so one thing will completely consume my attention for a few months and then I'll be onto the next thing. I'm very bad at multi-tasking. 31. Someone who has never played a game before but is open to trying any genre. What game would you recommend as their first?

Super Mario Bros. That was my first game. I think it does a good job of introducing someone to what a video game is without being overwhelming. However, if they are a little more technology-literate and want to try something story-based, I honestly think Ocarina of Time would be a good introduction. That was the game that made me fall in love with fantasy games and story-based games.

[mach1ne-g1rl]

Saw your most recent post on dhmis and tma and I've got opinions to say I believe Computers is an Eye episode because Colin's whole deal is stealing personal info and being smart but its not my strongest I see Jobs as a buried because while it doesn't involve much claustrophobia its more about harmful workplaces and overworking which ties in with the buried in a symbolic sense. I will argue so strongly Death is an End episode. The End is LITERALLY the fear of death smh. While I can see the argument its a Stranger because of Stain Edwards the theme of death is so strong that it isn't that relevant. I see Family as both Stranger and Corruption, Stranger because the whole episode feels very uncanny with the design of the family and set being a "real" place. It's also Corruption because the episode is about toxic family relations. I still cannot believe how you thought Friendship was originally a Vast episode. While I can see why you would assign it Lonely it's clearly a Corruption, it's literally about toxic friendships. Also bugs. Tbh i don't know what to assign to Transport my closest guess is Vast but my argument isn't very strong Electricity is a hard one, I don't think i can assign it to one entity. I think Electracey is a Extinction avatar because she's a robot and the "everything in the home will be plugged in and part of the electric family" line. I could see Charged Yellow being either Eye, Stranger or Extinction. Eye because he's want to find the truth and also green eyes, Stranger because Yellow gets replaced, and Extinction because he gets replaced using specifically technology. The power outage is probably Dark because darkness. Lesley is a Web avatar, I will fight you on this. She's controlling them, she's the literal puppet master. You said that Lesley isn't the main one pulling the string making her less Web aligned but I would argue that makes her MORE web aligned because she's knows she's not fully in control. I interpret becoming a web avatar as not only being manipulative, but accepting your lack of free will. As Annabelle said in 147, "let it never be said that I do not dance the steps I am assigned." Sorry this is long and probably sounds a little rude i just have very strong opinions on tma and dhmis have a lovely day

COmputer being eye was also on my first post but i removed it bc i didnt think it was part of the big Fear factor ? but the way you phrased it does make it work

jobs being buried makes sense too !! my main reason for it being spiral is just Duck calling everything out and then Also going weird ? and then going back to "this is all wrong" very strongly (also the episode is reminiscent of Sculptor's Tool to me with only duck pointing out how this is Odd)

death SHOULD be end ur right , i just didnt think anyone in dhmis seemed very scared of the Death there ? so i thought it wasnt very important but Yeah when you mention it its definitely end ty (Or desolation bc it also feels like . theyre more focused on the grief of losing someone n not the Fear of Death ? if that makes sense=? but i dont rly get the End and Desolation anyway so)

CORRUPTION FOR FAMILY IS SO RIGHT i think i considered corruption for it at one point but i second guessed myself enough to remove it again . and stranger never reallly seemed correct to me but it was the closest and i had no one to discuss with so i ran with it:sob:

IM SORRYY LSITEN OK i hadnt listened to tma in full when i made the first list. i just read the entities wiki page and heard season 5 ..!!!! honestly idk if i agree with corruption bc , while thats probably the deeper meaning of the episode (toxic friends) warren always seemed like just an autistic asshole to me so i never saw the whole . toxic thing ? and he never really actually seemed friends with any of them ?? yea taking advantage of their kindness but i wouldnt call it a toxic relationship bc there never Was a Relationship to me (probably factually wrong n im being ignorant here but its my list and blehh :P im biased towards warren) and im probably just forgetting something bc i havent rewatched it in a while but are there bugs besides warren (are worms bugs)?

transport i assigned Web bc red guy being like . aware of the whole They're Trapped There thing and trying to escape and Lonely bc they're trying to get to other people/ civilization/ community but are just . stuck ? and in some episodes the lonely just takes ppl to endless places that they cant leave (cul-de-sac is the only one i remember) and it just (again) reminded me of that

ELECTRICITY /SHOULLD/ be more than 1 or 2 very true but i just Really hate assigning more than 2 to these idk why ive set that rule for myself but it just feels wrong, disorderly and i dont like it . but yes i can see electracey being extinction (tbh i feel like teachers being avatars/ assinging them patrons/fears could be a whole other list itself) Charged Yellow being stranger i disagree. yes hes replaced but it feels more like . if s1 jon got replaced by s5 jon ? does that make sense ? I HAD DARK For this episode too bc the power outage but it didnt feel like a big fear factor here ? and i just didnt think it was significant enough (the dumb self-imposed rule) Lesley IS web coded i completely forgot annabelle for a second when i made this :sob: ive had too much michael on my mind and i thought being trapped wasnt enough of a theme here ? not like it was in Transport or like Dreams but yea it definitely should be Web

IM GLAD this is long i like hearing other ppls thoughts and input on this silly stuff (it did sound a little rude at times but dw i get it) I think at the end of the day the way we judge these is just Very different? Unless you disagree, i dont think the web series is this "up for debate" as the tv show is bc it just has . Less. There's maybe 3 lines at the start, then the teacher comes in and starts singing about what they embody, then the horrors and the end (only the last 3 episodes rly made me question which Power would be associated with them bc it kinda follows a plot so they could all a little be taken as web and lonely with red guy?) Theres just so many more ways the TV show can be interpreted. These could be judged on the Teacher, the Lesson, the thing that scares the characters, the thing that scares the Audience, symbolism/manifestations, etc. (i think i just went with whatever seemed the most relevant to me / what scared the characters ? but i was also being pretty inconsistent there lmao) i feel like there would probably have to be multiple lists or just one BIG list of everything that could count as one of the entities ? or maybe im blowing this out of proportion and its really simple for you, and only i struggled with this :,) either way it was fun ! and i think thats all that matters maybe the real dhmis tma entities assigning list were the friends we made along the way aww

[chappell-roans]

off topic but I just saw a post and the whole adults reading watching media for kids or ya is bad discourse is so stupid my god. youre an adult you should be reading Tolstoy like f-

TOLSTOY LMAO.

okay so. in discourse extremes are often bad, i do think people can consume whatever they want but there is a frightening rise in adults consuming exclusively media aimed at children. and not exploring any further. the great gatsby is too hard, i'll just watch moana again. which, is fine. i've seen moana like 5 times! it hit me hard as a young adult! but like i'm not going to only watch those things. and then companies (say, disney, but basically every entertainment company) is listening to this and making things more and more dumbed down and yeah idk. again, really nothing i can do about it and acting like no one should enjoy these things is also unhelpful. but idk i do think something changed and while i (for the most part) aged out of reading john green type of ya fiction (still wanna read his nonfiction ngl), a lot of people haven't?? and IDK. i'm not saying you're wrong and like there's layers to it. there is plenty of children's media that is GOOD and made for all types of people to enjoy, but idk. i think it's the all/nothing mindset i guess sfnldm. (and just to be clear, i know that you aren't asserting everyone should just go live in fairytales and go to disneyland everyday, anon, i truly just am a sociology nerd at heart and so am going to take this opportunity to reference some articles that i read literal years ago fohisd.)

there are some articles i've read about it in passing and they're probably going to sound harsh, take with a grain of salt, i'm not saying it's all right, etc., but i mostly just find this stuff fascinating. articles and quotes below. (i ended up copy and pasting... most of the articles, so i bolded the important parts. siodfnlk again. for general reading and mostly for myself. i haven't even read tolstoy FSDKNJ.)

but i am putting this above the cut:

"But we will never make the world better if we act like this. Thinking of yourself as a smol bean baby is a way of tapping out and expecting other people to fight on your behalf. It also makes you a more pliant consumer. Social media is awash with the idea that ‘it’s valid not to be productive’, as though productivity were the only manifestation of capitalism and streaming Disney+ all day is a form of resistance. It’s much rarer to encounter the idea that we have a responsibility about what we consume, or that satisfying our own desires whenever we want is not always a good thing: “there is no ethical consumption under capitalism” has morphed into “there is no unethical consumption under capitalism”." --- Everyone needs to grow up

The infantilization of Western culture

"If you regularly watch TV, you’ve probably seen a cartoon bear pitching you toilet paper, a gecko with a British accent selling you auto insurance and a bunny in sunglasses promoting batteries. This has always struck me as a bit odd. Sure, it makes sense to use cartoon characters to sell products to kids — a phenomenon that’s been well-documented. But why are advertisers using the same techniques on adults?

To me, it’s just one symptom of a broader trend of infantilization in Western culture. It began before the advent of smartphones and social media. But, as I argue in my book “The Terminal Self,” our everyday interactions with these computer technologies have accelerated and normalized our culture’s infantile tendencies.

But some cultural practices today routinely infantilize large swaths of the population. We see it in our everyday speech, when we refer to grown women as “girls”; in how we treat senior citizens, when we place them in adult care centers where they’re forced to surrender their autonomy and privacy; and in the way school personnel and parents treat teenagers, refusing to acknowledge their intelligence and need for autonomy, restricting their freedom, and limiting their ability to enter the workforce."

Visiting America in 1946, French anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss commented on the endearingly infantile traits of American culture. He especially noted adults’ childish adulation of baseball, their passionate approach to toy-like cars and the amount of time they invested in hobbies. As contemporary scholars note, however, this “infantilist ethos” has become less charming — and more pervasive.

Researchers in Russia and Spain have even identified infantilist trends in language, and French sociologist Jacqueline Barus-Michel observes that we now communicate in “flashes,” rather than via thoughtful discourse — “poorer, binary, similar to computer language, and aiming to shock.” Others have noted similar trends in popular culture — in the shorter sentences in contemporary novels, in the lack of sophistication in political rhetoric and in sensationalist cable news coverage.

While we might find it trivial or amusing, the infantilist ethos becomes especially seductive in times of social crises and fear. And its favoring of simple, easy and fast betrays natural affinities for certain political solutions over others. And typically not intelligent ones.

Democratic policymaking requires debate, demands compromise and involves critical thinking. It entails considering different viewpoints, anticipating the future, and composing thoughtful legislation. What’s a fast, easy and simple alternative to this political process? It’s not difficult to imagine an infantile society being attracted to authoritarian rule.

Unfortunately, our social institutions and technological devices seem to erode hallmarks of maturity: patience, empathy, solidarity, humility and commitment to a project greater than oneself. All are qualities that have traditionally been considered essential for both healthy adulthood and for the proper functioning of democracy.

Everyone needs to grow up

"You can see it in the widely circulated – and largely untrue – idea that the human brain isn’t developed until the age of 25, which means that anyone younger is still essentially a child. It’s there in the notion that people with ADHD can’t text back their friends because they lack object permanence (a skill that babies develop at eight months old). It’s there in the narrative that, because gay people didn’t experience a normal childhood, they’re living out a second adolescence in their twenties and thirties. It’s there in the hegemony of superhero films and the cross-generational popularity of YA, whose fans insist that grown-up literature is only ever about depressed college professors having affairs.

You can see it in Disney adults; the rise of cuteness as a dominant aesthetic category; the resurgence of stuffed animals; people who identify as Hufflepuffs on their Hinge profile; people throwing tantrums when their Gorillas rider is five minutes late; people lip-syncing, with pouted lips and furrowed brows, to audio tracks of toddlers. Sometimes, it’s less about pretending to be a child and more about harking back to a lost adolescence: narrativising your life like it’s a John Green novel or an episode of Euphoria, bragging about crazzzy exploits like smoking cigarettes on a swing or doing cocaine on a Thursday; hitting 30 and still considering yourself “precocious”.

Most complaints about the infantilism of young people have typically come from the right, which has pointed to safe spaces and trigger warnings as evidence that Gen Z and millennials have been coddled to the point of softness. The right-wing critique of infantilism usually contends that, due to a vague decline in moral fibre, young people aren’t willing to embrace the mantles of adulthood, like moving out of the family home, entering into a stable career, getting married and starting a family.

For the most part, though, swerving these milestones is not an active choice that young people are making: adulthood is something that has been denied to many of us, who couldn’t buy a flat or start a family even if we wanted to. “In an age where so much agency has been taken away from young adults, when they face futures saddled with debt, unable to access the basic material trappings of adulthood, which in turn delays entry into emotional adulthood indefinitely, a retreat into the dubious comforts of a pseudo-childhood will have its pull,” Professor Josh Cohen, psycho-analyst and author of How to Live, What to Do, tells Dazed.

That said, even if the economy is foisting an extended adolescence on us, we can still choose to assert our dignity and refuse to become “baby adults” or 26-year-old teenagers, helpless and dependent. Make no mistake: the capitalist elites want you to think of yourself as a silly little goose.

What would rejecting this helplessness look like? The right see adulthood as a process of settling down, getting married and having children; in effect, conforming to conventional gender roles and being productive members of the workforce. We obviously don’t have to buy into that, at any age. But we can aspire towards a different form of maturity: looking after ourselves, treating other people with care, being invested in something beyond our own immediate satisfaction. Infantilising yourself can often seem like a plea for diminished responsibility.

But we will never make the world better if we act like this. Thinking of yourself as a smol bean baby is a way of tapping out and expecting other people to fight on your behalf. It also makes you a more pliant consumer. Social media is awash with the idea that ‘it’s valid not to be productive’, as though productivity were the only manifestation of capitalism and streaming Disney+ all day is a form of resistance. It’s much rarer to encounter the idea that we have a responsibility about what we consume, or that satisfying our own desires whenever we want is not always a good thing: “there is no ethical consumption under capitalism” has morphed into “there is no unethical consumption under capitalism”.

Children are the perfect customers: suggestible, impulsive, driven by an insatiable and replenishable desire for pleasure. This is why, in the 1950s, companies leaned into ‘the teenager’ as an emerging market – you can only sell so many long-lasting household appliances. Adverts today are as eager as ever to speak to us as though we are babies, whether it’s Innocent smoothies telling us not to eat conkers or Heinz ketchup announcing that “adulting sucks”. As Felicity Martin wrote on Dazed earlier this week, pre-teen, teen and young women are increasingly being lumped together, consuming the same culture and being marketed the same products.

In a more subtle way, conservatives self-infantilise by denying their own agency: faced with the supposed “excesses” of the movements for LGTBQ+ rights and racial justice, they see themselves as being pushed towards extremism. But categorising other people as children – who can be overruled in their own best interests – forms part of the same project: in recent years, there has been a concerted effort to raise the age at which trans people can access gender-affirming care. Legislators in at least three states in the US are currently moving to deny this treatment to adults up to the age of 25, on the basis that they are not yet mature enough to provide informed consent. Oppressed groups aren’t always infantilised – in a process known as ‘adultification’, children from racialised minorities are typically viewed as having more agency, which makes them more likely to be criminalised– but the right is happy to deploy a diversity of tactics. Just as it’s a common behaviour in abusive relationships, infantilisation can be a mechanism for political domination and control.

Even if infantilisation is being pushed upon us, even if the helplessness we feel has a tangible basis in reality, even if adulting really does suck, we can still choose to see ourselves as capable of changing our own lives and the world around us. “The harms are undeniable,” says Cohen. “Bottom line: it’s a way of learning to love your oppressor. It takes an acute loss of agency and control and transforms it into a state to be desired and enjoyed. Once you embrace this way of being, the demands and rewards of adult life are going to seem all the more remote and all the more forbidding and unpleasurable.”

[starbovnd]

vent--

Sorry for being so inactive x_x If you follow my twitter, I just made this big post getting into detail about my absences- Physical/Mental health deterioration + Technology problems

But the one thing I don't feel comfortable venting about on twitter? My living situation. It's so hard to draw and be creative nowadays. I often find myself talking down to myself like "Your art hasn't improved in 4 years and you should feel ashamed" but.. truth is, I don't have a lot of energy left to give. My roommate and I aren't compatible people, especially after we broke up in March; we fight and argue consistently and it's led to me having 4 meltdowns where I am screaming, crying, and a literal danger to myself. My harmful tendencies are worse when I'm emotional, and it's resulted in.. many rug burns, bruises, and hurt fingers. While my roommate has never physically assaulted me, me hitting the walls and beating my head into them is where these injuries come from. I wholeheartedly believe I wouldn't have these meltdowns if we were able to properly communicate.

"Why are you living with your ex?" because if I leave, she'll be homeless. Her dad is a complete asshole who honestly shouldn't have had kids to begin with, and he's more than okay with letting her be homeless. This is the same man who charged his kid rent for her childhood bedroom. She told her dad we couldn't afford rent and he stopped paying for her car insurance. It's horrible. We have no money, and every penny goes into rent, food, and electricity.. Just UGH

It doesn't help that she'll take 2-3 days off of work a week because she suffers from.. ??? She wakes up at 5 AM every morning and vomits profusely, has muscle spasms, and cries and moans out in agony. I'm not a doctor, but this isn't normal. And she makes $15/hr, so taking 2-3 days off a week is a huge loss for us. ESPECIALLY since my income is solely from doing art. I haven't had a job in a year ever since GME unfairly terminated me and the businesses around here are putting up false and misleading employment ads. Indeed is a joke, full stop.

So on top of me having to cover over half our utilities and rent, I'm also the only person who washes dishes. I'm the only person who cooks. I take the trash out. Never once has she done anything around the apartment, and when I ask for help I get told "I don't know how, nobody showed me as a kid" and it's just

UGH both her parents suck!! And I can't leave because then someone I care about will be HOMELESS! Like, I have a place to go. My parents might be transphobic, but I can put up with it. She, however, has nothing, and her dad is a massive asshole. Like... What kind of parent hears "Dad I can't pay rent" and then decides to stop paying their insurance? Like great! Now I can't afford my apartment, my car payment, or my insurance! Grand!

I'm struggling deeply; its not my job to convince my ex she's worth love and care, but I also can't just walk away. Her and I both have no local friends who would house her.

But anyways I'll stop rambling x_x Tumblr is the only social media my roomie doesn't use so.. I can vent it freely a bit here ig

[reinterlacing]

I'm about to start taking apart my lan (local area network for you witchy mosscore types) in the house I came to in 2019 hoping to find solace and a place to recover.

I'll disconnect the tiny PC and the even tinier tech box + hard drive, and the network switch, and battery backup which make up my little indie "data center" that I built from cheap and cast-off parts. I'll take down the router in the basement and the one upstairs that formed a wifi bridge around the huge chimney so I could work in a bedroom while the servers lived next to the ethernet drop in the cool dark downstairs.

I'm bringing all this with me and will set it up in another basement - one where I can potentially leave it for a while - in a house where I don't know if I can stay more than another few weeks or a month or two.

I came out here with a lot of hope. that hope is now gone, replaced by other hope that's lesser in scope but perhaps more realistic.

I learned a lot.

I learned a bunch of technologies which I taught myself on those doorstop computers - just like when I was 16 and my father saw me using a computer I built in a literal cardboard box and had nothing to contribute. back then I taught myself assembly language out of a library book. in this case it was vital skills I missed from 2014 onward.

I learned people have widely differing ideas when it comes to core values like friendship, loyalty, duty of concern, and so forth. "people" very much including me. I've hurt others due to my own questionable values in that regard and now I know it. my own inability to communicate under certain conditions also did not help.

I learned that every molecule of extroversion within me is "affiliative" - the drive to love & be loved - rather than "agentic" - the desire to project & be seen. a lot of people seem to prefer agentic extroversion, and I learned I have very little to say to those who do.

I lost my best friend & confidant of 30 years, I haven't even begun to be able to address that, and quite frankly, nobody gives a shit.

I honestly don't know what to say or do at this point and am just grateful to have found some Zen teachings along the lines of "before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water; after enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water."

lately people have been having opinions on how I should or shouldn't be doing things. the common thread among all these people is that they have expended minimal effort to understand why I do what I do in the way that I do. accordingly, their opinions on the subject are of little use to me.

I found out the mother who I've had no contact with in many years, whose mind was gone not long after I broke it off, is dying. it wasn't a shock. only in the past few months did I reach sufficient insight on the shit she did to have compassion for her as a human being, and she didn't have anywhere near the 30 years it took for me to get there, extended as the journey was by her bad behavior, lack of insight, and lack of ability to build another human being up rather than tear them down. I needed, and need, a lot of support which I never got.

I treasure my newfound wisdom, but overall, I feel diminished by the past 5 years especially.

at this point I just want to find someone to be naked with - I think if you're still reading you know what I mean by this, or close enough anyhow - who'll be my ride or die and I'll be their ride or die until the wheels really do come off this whole absurd circus or until we're gone, whichever comes first.

I always thought sure that'd happen. I thought sure. even thru all the time being an awkward kid and an awkward adult, I was sure I'd eventually find my constant, and then I would finally be able to put all the hungry restless miles behind me and devote myself to her and to us.

it's hard to overstate how central this is to my identity. people usually wanna sell some individualistic platitudes at this point, but I am long past that bullshit. I am absolutely meant to be part of a dyad and I function so much better within a healthy one.

and now I have to admit, decades late at pointing out the obvious, that the odds don't really seem very good.

I don't know how much fight I have left in me, probably it'd be none but for the continued availability of a very long pharmaceutical supply chain. but those pills are some good shit; I know I'll keep getting up as long as that prescription keeps showing up.

for the position I'm in, I'm in a pretty good position: a nearly-complete 1-man survival gear loadout, a collection of computer bits sufficient to do indie remote work from most anywhere in the lower 48 and in many other countries, and a paid 3-month SIM card.

I can pull 40 bucks an hour even with absolute shit-tier reliability because of my skillset, and I can make a lot more than that if I can ever get stable again. I just need a quiet private space without a bunch of random shit going on in it, especially addiction.

I am a homebody. I need a home. me without a kitchen and plants is already approaching tragic, now please if you are going to be present with me at all, understand that I, need, a home.

and the reality is, I don't think I'm going to have one for a long time yet, if ever.

[odetoagirl]

second draft self

i wonder if shes ever thought like this at all, never having written a diary or a letter to herself or a poem, no internal monologue, a lack of retention and attention payed, no desire to learn, the lack of a critical thinking when it comes to literally any form of art, the persistent assumption that uneducated you is right, and not that you simply lack the knowledge. it seems all to point to such an astronomical lack of self reflection. it is so a to b, so animalistic, so raw and yet so indoctrinated; no second draft self in sight.

scorpio sun, scorpio rising, scorpio mercury. all i am is self transformation, over and over again i fall in on myself, i recycle and reemerge endlessly, laminated between layers of life and death, from life until death. how does the carcass of a simple woman birth the eternal chrysalis of me. this is not a mythical degree of vanity so much as a truth she has admitted, she conceded to being a thoughtless unreflective hamster, a cog in the machine, an acting and reacting being with little space?desire?need?interest?capability? for internal reflection. i am so far down a line of drafts these days that i would be unrecognisable to myself a few years ago if it werent for the distinctive material, rearranged to such distortion. there is very little i could not tell you about the people round me, their nature and their thoughts, i could predict so accurately their response to stimulus in any given surrounding. it is the gift god returns you for paying attention, but it does require a degree of understanding of human nature and the conscious, something you can only develop from the only first hand, direct route you have to the mind; yourself. to ask why is to understand yourself, the mind, and then others. from which most anything becomes easy. art, history, technology, instructions and interface; anything with human input and design unravels before you and with practice, the reverse engineering becomes as almost indistinguishably as immediate as one's own intuition. if only people really fucking listened, really watched ad engaged their fucking brains they would reach such a plane of existence that is fundamental to the revered geniuses of history, da vinci and pythagorus or van gogh or shakespeare or frida kahlo. you must never stop pushing for kowledge and learning and understanding, i dont know why people do. when most people find learning hard or undenjoyable it is because of this lack of understading, the why to bridge the gap that makes it all fall into place. to memorise when and where and what is so difficult, so disjointed and arbitrary it is difficult and drill-like, i would also find it virtually impossible - it is the weakness of traditional school systems to teach memorisation and not cultivate understanding. perhaps it is because it would produce too many free thinkers or pioneers or individuals who refuse to engage in such thoughtless cog-like nine to fives which would create waves to disrupt those in power - a few innovators generates millions, a million innovators breeds freedom. the first point of failure begins with open listening, people are hearing the words but so few people are open to listening to what there is desire to say without assuming, or glazing over it or inflicting your preconceptions, it is HARD to deconstruct and listen properly, it is tiring to engage consistently and i find it hard to detach my own thoughts ad contexts but it is something you must do, the reward is great and the only thing that gives life any meaning is ones self and others, if you want to be heard and known you must cultivate such a space for others. it is a sincere skill, it cannot be mimicked or taught, it must be sprung from a self realisation and a true desire to understand. the reward for such efforts, openness, honestly, vulnerability, are countlessly fruitful.

but yeah whatever. my mother wouldn't fucking get it. she could read all of this, everything i've ever written and still not understand. the lens she wears is so thick that she cannot see past her own assumption, her own distortion through which to see the world cultivated in response to her experience, it has grown greater and greater with time, slowly enough that she does not notice the the way she once saw was so different. i assume. i do not know if she has ever been any different. i have, on a few occasions, become so utterly and desperately vulnerable in front of her in various vulgar displays of discontent. i have, in spite of my own overwhelmedness, i always made room for a preface, a desperate string of sobbed pleas, please listen to me really, properly, and don't get angry because i'm not trying to be mean or upset you i'm just trying to explain. she agrees, and i begin, and immediately i am interrupted by anger from deaf ears, a volatile reaction from a mother who's child is begging to be seen. it never works. the older i get the more i lose hope, and the greater the weight of the grief becomes; i cry for the death of my mother, a woman who's never existed.

i feel that if she ever asked i would pour my heart out, and if she ever listened i would unlock a whole new world for her and things would never be the same. she would become threefold as wise and a little more happy. if she knew how clever i was... i don't know. she thinks i am logical and good at maths, that i am an academic with a wizards memory. i am okay in such departments, but it is not where i excel, not where i live as truly, impressively brilliant. i am a genius in a language she doesn't know exists, and doesn't care to understand. i love smart people, i love to surround myself with people far superior to me in so many different fields; business minds and maths geniuses, linguists, artists, all rounders and hard workers, for me to be the least intelligent and informed person in a room is a delight, to be taught but sincere individuals who possess a joy for sharing. its like being inside the internet or a book, i feel the magic of knowledge in the air, experts sweat intelligence. and these people, who outshine me by leaps and bounds, whom i respect most, always seem to uniquely enjoy my company.

for a long time, young and unfamiliar with the real world outside my immediate life, it was a pattern i did not pick up on, understanding outside of experience is difficult within a limited observational window restricted by both age and lifestyle, and my own naivety and unwillingness to truly hear feedback i was regularly given. but the closer i get to the real world, the more i understand that smart people like me because i reflect such a childlike intrigue and vulnerability delivered through a critical, perceptive eye and exacting tongue.

still this does surprise me, for my scathing bitterness is something i would hate if i met myself, i would consider her cruel to her closest supporters, careless with their feelings, unforgivabely biting. this is not entirely the case, i say it with no malice and they dont take it that way either, they understand it to be how i love, and if they resent it they tolerate it for the confidence they find within me. but alas it little matters for i know how it would consumee if i was the subject of such remarks. no degree of empathy or mutual understanding for my clone would permit me to overcome the jokes at the expense of those who surround her. indeed it is something i do abhor in myself, like a parasite who lives in my mouth and strikes sarcasm into everything i speak. but to other it would be to detatch myself from responsibility, such mocking is my fault and my doing, the marrow of my bones. should you not see me for years, upon return perhaps the only point of recognition would be the cruel skin my words wear, no matter how they are intentioned, it seems the lens survives every redraft inevitabely. i wonder if perhaps that renders me the parasite, simply boarding a thesean ship that i build and rebuild around my rotten core.