#these are just my thoughts on that topic without any real consistency

[web-of-arachne]

“431; or, queer loneliness”

unknown // emily palermo, what I could never confess without some bravado // good luck, babe! - chappell roan // unknown // unknown // jenny slate, little weirds // dr. seuss, oh the places you’ll go // unknown

[stagkingswife]

What I've Done Instead of Shadow Work

This is going to be the last thing I say on the topic of shadow work, because, honestly I'm getting bored of the subject and would rather go back to talking about spirit work, or spells, or any of the many other subjects that I care a thousand times more about. Some folks seem to be hearing “I refuse to do any introspection” when I say "I have never and will never do shadow work". I have done lots of introspection, I've done therapy that follows evidence based practices, I just see no reason do try and guide myself through a method of therapy with little to no scientific evidence. But in case anyone's curious, or wants some tips, here's what I've done instead! Mindfulness exercises: I love mindfulness exercises that train you to think about your thoughts, but not judge them. Consistent mindfulness practice has really helped me become more aware of my internal thought processes, what I get hung up on, what I struggle with, what emotions I’m feeling and what caused them.

The Artist Way & Embrace Your Weird: These are both self help books for creative folks with a heavy emphasis on journaling and self expression. I found both of these helpful in different ways when I felt like I was struggling with creative burnout or felt like I was stuck in the daily grind of my day job.

Journaling: I keep multiple journals! One is a commonplace book that I fill up with on the spot thoughts, quotes, song lyrics, etc. just stuff I want to remember. The other I write in every morning when I first wake up, a continuation of the morning pages from the Artist’s Way, to just unpack and process whatever going on in my head.

Therapy: Actual real therapy with a licensed professional. I specifically see a pain psychologist because most of what we focus on is the impact my chronic pain has on my and developing healthy coping mechanisms for that.

I think what gets a bee in my bonnet the most about the few negative reactions I’ve gotten on this topic is that these folks seem most concerned about the trauma and “inner demons” aspects of shadow work. There’s always something about how dangerous or unhealthy it is for me or even those around me for me to have not delt with my trauma via shadow work. I don’t like that they presume to know my life and mental health history without having ever spoken to me. And I really don’t like the insistance that everyone has the same kind of trauma that needs to be healed in the same way.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

A Perfect Day (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader spend a fall day together. A/N: This is an excerpt from my series, Here to Misbehave! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: Halloween mentions, Spencer!POV Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

Autumn has widely been considered the season of change. It is an understandable characterization; from the shifting hues of the leaves to the wildly fluctuating temperatures, few things stayed consistent in the fall. Perhaps that’s why someone who loathes change, someone like me, finds the season so thrilling.

It’s like the Earth and the Sun made a pact to make changes more predictable in their own unique, chaotic way. The breeze becomes biting and the days become shorter, but for these downfalls, we are granted a beauty and calmness that can’t be rivaled by any other season.

But my love wasn’t a season, and when asked where I'd rather direct my attention and appreciation, there were few choices that were easier to make.

“Spencer. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Her face was half covered by the cup she held tightly with both hands, but I could picture the hidden expression perfectly, regardless.

“What? We don’t have to agree on everything.”

The offered truce was received poorly; her response a heavy scoff and a shake of her head. I tried to follow along with her suddenly heated words but couldn’t contain the stars in my eyes that often accompanied my daydreams. If she did notice, she stubbornly ignored the adoration.

“I understand you’re a genius or whatever, but I think your opinions on cider and cocoa are… wrong. They are wrong.”

It was my turn to feign displeasure (I hoped hers wasn’t real, anyway). I clutched tighter to my own drink that I found myself defending on a park bench with dozens of strangers as an audience.

“An opinion can’t be wrong!” I chirped, only hating a little bit the way my voice jumped. After all, it was hard to hate it when it made her giggle. But despite how much sweeter the liquid seemed when I drank it in the presence of her smile, I also knew that she wouldn’t appreciate my immediate agreement. So, I pushed back just a little, “It can be misguided or ignorant but not outright wrong.”

“Unless it’s yours, on this topic,” she shot back without hesitation.

I tried to flash her a pout, hoping that maybe it would work for me like it did for her. It did not. Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped open with another laugh, and I decided that I preferred that outcome, anyway.

The longer my bottom lip stuck out, the wider her smile got. I waited to stop until her eyes closed and turned away, just long enough to let the full force of my affection show.

She saw it, anyway, in the form of a similar smile spread over my face when I softly admitted, “Fine. You’re right.”

“Oh, I know.”

Her tongue peeked between her lips, and I found myself thinking less of cider and cocoa and more about how unbelievably lucky I was to find someone that I never felt the need to prove anything to. A person that didn’t care if I held all the answers.

I might’ve continued down that sappy train of thought, but it was hard to do while she hoisted herself halfway over the table to try and grab hold of my cup right as I went to drink from it.

Of course, she had failed to take into account just how big the table was, and just how close I was willing to come to falling before I let her drink from my cup right after she’d criticized my preference of fall flavors.

For a second, I really thought she might climb onto the table to win, but the judgmental looks from the parents in the park must have beaten her desire to win. As forlorn as humanly possible, she fell back into her seat with a loud “Hmph!” which really only managed to elicit an equally immature giggle from me.

“Shut up,” she laughed before shoving my paper plate toward my chest, “And eat your stupid pie.”

All I could think as she grabbed my fork and stabbed the middle of the piece to try to lift the entire thing at once, was that I was right about one thing: Autumn, in all its vitality and beauty, could still never compare to her.

That thought persisted through the pumpkin patch, growing in intensity as she skipped through the vine-laden path like a regular fall fairy. It was much easier to get lost in her there, crouched and inspecting foliage. Her arguments regarding gourds were much less spirited, with her watching me wide-eyed and curious as I explained the stages of pumpkin growth and all the different uses for the fruit.

I still let her make the final choices, opting to analyze her selections and tease her for them later, instead. That was the plan, anyway, to continue the competitiveness lest she gets bored with me before the day was over. When she walked past me holding open the passenger side door, I thought it might’ve already happened.

But then she just placed the pumpkin into my hands so she could open the back door. Before I could even move, she carefully removed it from my arms again and placed it in the seat.

“What are you doing?” I said through an amused chuckle.

She was decidedly not entertained by my confusion, stopping to turn to me with a bored, frustrated expression.

“I’m buckling him in,” she explained slowly, like I might need the help. Then, to add insult to silly injury, she added, “Duh.”

I was too distracted by the details to tackle the absurdity of it all.

“Him? It’s a boy pumpkin?”

“Obviously. Look at him,” she snorted, finally clicking the seat belt in before tenderly petting the top of the lucky little gourd. Once she was convinced it would be as safe as she could make it, she allowed me to begin to escort her into her proper seat.

“You know it’s safer on the floor, right?” I asked before she’d slipped past me. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the car so I could enjoy the warmth of her before it was replaced with the dry air of the engine.

“How dare you,” she balked with an open mouth that was just begging to be kissed. By the time I got close enough to try, though, her hand fervently shoved my cheek away.

I tried to laugh, but she used the same hand to cover the noise, trying and failing to convince me she was being serious.

“Why don’t you just hold him?” I mumbled against her palm.

That was enough for her to abandon my embrace altogether. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she pried my arms off of her and finally made her way to my passenger seat. I didn’t fight her too hard, even taking the time to shut her door like my mother always insisted I should.

The mercy was not returned, with her eyes narrowed into a playful disbelieving glare that I hadn’t seen in some time. I took a moment to appreciate the memory before she'd interrupted the thought with a new one.

“If this is any indication of how you’ll be with a human baby, I have dramatically overestimated your competence,” she droned, obviously unaffected by the stars that appeared in my eyes every time I looked at her.

“The one and only time you’ll ever be able to say those words. I hope you enjoyed it,” I joked. A funny enough joke that she couldn’t help but smile through her facade.

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “I did.”

The day could have ended there, and it would have been enough. But I think we were trying to prolong the high of the perfect day, finding even the faintest interest in an activity as enough of an excuse for a detour on our way home.

… Which was probably how we found ourselves in our third park of the day. After all, I loved any autumnal vision, so how could I decline an opportunity to let them serve as a backdrop for watching her?

And that was an accurate description of how I spent the day. It might sound boring, and if it were anyone else, it probably would have been. But no matter how often I saw her, I found myself learning new things about her every single time. Each freckle and scar became a part of the high-definition collection of memories that I would never let myself forget. The most beautiful images that kept me sane in the face of evil and filth.

“Do you see that?”

For a moment, I thought she might have read my mind. But then I realized that her eyes were still fixed forward, stuck on the horizon ahead of us.

“See what?”

“That,” she pointed, “Right there.”

My eyes followed the line, finding nothing but an area of carefully manicured, yellow grass and trees already set to rest for the season. It must have been clear to her that I was lost, because her pointing became more animated and her voice rose as she shouted, “Right there!”

“The giant pile of leaves?”

“Uh-huh.”

Then, in all of my obliviousness, I just sort of stared. Even when her hand grew tighter around mine and her feet started to move faster, I didn’t put two and two together until it was too late.

“What about— No!” I shouted, cutting off my own train of thought and only barely letting go of her in time to watch her jump straight into the collection of fallen foliage that some poor landscaper had obviously worked hard to gather.

I have to believe that even if that unlucky, underappreciated individual saw what she’d done to their hours of work, that they would forgive her. It was hard to feel anything but joy at the sounds that came from the pile. Yet I approached her cautiously, with both hands in my pockets to avoid the urge to throw myself into danger with her.

“You’re a terror,” I said, settling for a crouched position in front of her. Still able to see her but far enough from her grasp that she had to crawl through a wall of leaves to come nose to nose with me.

“This is literally the scariest thing you’ve done all season," I said.

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” she purred.

As enticing as the offer was, my mind was too preoccupied with statistics of spider and snake bites, not to mention the possibility of ticks still scouring the landscape for any last second hosts. The answer was easy.

“Absolutely not.”

With another exhale of pure displeasure, she threw her body back into the leaves, burying herself into a mess of yellows and reds that somehow only made her look even more beautiful. The chaotic scene matched her energy well, and the harm she was doing was minimal considering I was absolutely going to search every inch of skin for any marks later.

The only thing that was more appealing to me than watching her make an absolute fool out of herself in a pile of leaves was the intense urge to tease her about it. So, taking a regrettable seat on the grass, I sighed, “I think I’m going to have to arrest you for trespassing.”

There was a loud gasp from the center of the pile, followed by a scuffle of flailing limbs among the foliage.

“You don’t own this leaf pile! I do! I am queen of the leaf pile!” she screeched.

“Alright Princess,” I subtly corrected, “whatever you say.”

As promised, I didn’t put up a fight. Even when she finally got a hold of my hands and dragged me into the madness with her. I followed her no matter what nonsense she demanded, just as she had with me so many times. Granted, my desires weren’t nearly as dangerous or strange. They were pretty much just a collection of foreign films and reading that always lulled her to sleep.

But that day there was no sign of her energy waning. The early sun faded and we kept going. I’m not sure how, but she managed to enjoy herself in the D.C. landscape of bars and blaring car horns. Her joy became even more obvious when we'd stumbled upon a crowd of very drunk women who had insisted we join their haunted tour of the city.

“Are you scared?” she whispered into my ear.

The feeling of her warm breath against my skin caused a shiver to run down my spine, ruining any credibility I had in my response.

“No. Why would I be scared? It’s just history.”

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

“Yes!” I insisted with the worst possible timing. Because just as soon as the word had left my lips, I felt the distinct sensation of fingers running down my neck and arm opposite to her. I was so convinced that’s what it was that I even spun around with a yelp, crashing into at least three different people just to find a very startled woman with the worst hung scarf I’d ever seen.

My love had already put two and two together and was lost in an absolute fit of laughter. There were already tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she doubled over, barely able to stand through it all. Because there I was, her nearly middle aged FBI agent boyfriend, screaming over a scarf.

“Laugh it up,” I droned.

And she did. She kept laughing through any attempts at a response, and after the initial embarrassment wore off, I couldn’t help but join her.

“I hope you know you chose me. You chose this man!” I shouted, gesturing to the people around us who had already forgotten about our shenanigans, “And everyone knows it!”

“I’m sorry I can’t—” she wheezed, pausing to take a necessary breath that was all lost with another bunch of giggles “—You’re a fucking FBI Agent!”

“Well I can’t shoot a ghost, can I?” I mumbled through the hit to my ego. But any suffering was quickly dealt with as she threw dramatic arms around my waist, pulling me close and protecting me from any other errant scarves that might show up.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I returned with a quick kiss on her forehead. And even if I implied otherwise, I think she knew that I was having just as good of a time as she was. In fact, it was one of the most relaxing days of my life, which was saying something, considering how much walking was involved.

But no matter how tired we both were, I still had one last place to take her. The final destination for us to rest our heads and reminisce over a day spent cycling through every autumnal activity. Just one more place to end the day.

Home, I thought as I looked at her. All there was left to do was go home.

The perfect end to the perfect day.

Want more? This blurb is actually an excerpt of my existing work, Here to Misbehave! Check out the series masterlist here!

[lurkingshan]

Hi Shan

I've been watching your commentary on Peaceful Property with regard to its mishandling of its class conflict themes and I have to admit that I'm coming to agree with you on it.

I had to basically go "Welp, I can't see how they get out of the mess they've made now - I guess I just have to give them a pass on the grounds of found family?" in order to keep enjoying the show, which did let me do that but also left a bit of an icky taste in my mouth.

So I guess I wanted to ask - do you think there's a way they could have handled the wealth disparity and classism issues more gracefully within the show's narrative? And also whether there are any QLs you would recommend that do handle the topic to your satisfaction? I could use something good to watch!

Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I feel like you always make me consider topics more deeply and reflectively, even when I don't agree with you.

Hi, thanks for dropping in! I feel you on this, and I want to be clear that my criticism of the show is not criticism of people who still like it despite these failures. If you have still been able to connect to the friendship and family themes without this getting in the way, that's great and I'm glad for you. Just because the show is doing one thing very poorly doesn't mean there's nothing of value in it.

That said, you're right, they've passed the point of no return on their missteps with the class disparity themes. Early on in the show, after several episodes in a row of ghost stories involving poor or working class folks harmed by Home's wealthy real estate developer family on top of the class disparity between Home and Peach/Pang, I said I was confident that the show had something to say about this issue. And that was true! Unfortunately, what it had to say was garbage.

To your first question, I actually think it would have been very easy for the show to handle the wealth disparity and classism issues more gracefully, and that's a big part of my frustration. They had all the ingredients--a family history of exploitation, a ghost busting team including working class folks to shed light on the family's sins, and an ignorant grandson uncovering wrongdoing case by case and learning that there was always a price for his privilege. All the show needed to do was allow Home to come to some natural realizations about his family's treatment of others, via both the ghost case work and his relationship with Peach and Pang, and then use the power and resources he has to take accountability in the form of restitution and reparations to the people and communities they harmed. My ideal story line based on what they set up in the first half of the show would have had Home setting out to right his family's wrongs and take real steps to restore the communities they harmed. Even if a full on wealth redistribution narrative was too much to hope for, at the very least Home should have been made to reckon with what his family did and set out to do better in the future, both by Peach and Pang and by his family's countless victims (including Kan).

But that's not what we got. Instead, the narrative tried to sell us on the idea that none of this is anyone's fault, and that any harm that came to people at this family's hands was the result of a "curse" or one bad apple's wrongdoing. Instead of saying anything meaningful about systemic inequality and the responsibility of the wealthy and powerful to avoid extractive and exploitative practices, they painted Home's Gramps and family corporation as benevolent, concluding that they destroyed a bunch of people's lives by accident and without intent or even knowledge. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how utterly absurd and insulting that is. On top of all that, despite Home being the one with the most power in this little friend family and making some very serious mistakes that caused harm to the others, the show consistently centered him and his feelings in all conflicts, including Peach's near death and the death of Kan's father and destruction of her community. It also ignored the very real stakes it set up for Peach and Pang's dire financial situation whenever the plot demanded. The second half of the show became all about the poor people Home and his family have harmed forgiving him without any accountability because they felt guilty he was sad, and then those same people spending their time and energy fighting to save this rich family's reputation and livelihood. That's not me offering an interpretation, that is what literally happened on our screens!

So yeah, it was bad! It was clear weeks ago that it was not going in the right direction, but I understand holding out hope that they'd pull a rabbit out of a hat or look into the camera and say sike. But that ship has sailed at this point, and Peaceful Property becomes another in a pattern of GMMTV shows that try to incorporate class disparity in their narratives and get it very very wrong.

Which brings me to your second question: are there any QLs I recommend that do this better? Yes! Here is a short list for other Thai shows that have genuinely done this better:

Moonlight Chicken: not a class disparity narrative, but the only GMMTV show to date that has depicted working class people with full dignity and empathy

Dark Blue Kiss: the only GMMTV bl to tell a romance story that involves class conflict and not completely bungle it (snaps to TayNew for having another show that did better on this)

My Ride: a slow burn romance between a doctor and a motorcycle taxi driver that gets the way their class disparity would shape their relationship right

Love Sea: this one isn't perfect (I think the working class character in the pair gets too little narrative attention relative to his rich counterpart) but it does take the class disparity seriously and ensures it informs the relationship the whole way through

Laws of Attraction: don't laugh at me, I'm serious! This show is mostly absurd but the core narrative is all about class conflict, and it informs the romance quite thoroughly, too

The Loyal Pin: including this one on the word of @twig-tea because I haven't watched yet, but I understand it's dealing with class very directly in its core relationship (with the disclaimer that it still has two episodes to go so something could go sideways)

I'd also throw in some shows that aren't really about class disparity but do include it as part of the narrative background to inform characterization and plot like I Told Sunset About You, Love By Chance, Khun Chai, and 3 Will Be Free

Outside of Thailand, South Korea is always a safe bet for strong class disparity narratives, and in QL you'll find the best examples in Hwang Da Seul's works (Where Your Eyes Linger, Blueming, To My Star 2, and currently Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo). Japan and Taiwan actually don't do much of this, because most of their shows are about middle class and working people as a rule. Miseinen, a Japanese BL that just started airing, looks to be tackling a class disparity narrative, though, and doing it well so far (not a coincidence that the source material is from Korea). And We Best Love is a classic Taiwanese BL with a significant class disparity informing the romance conflict. Blue Canvas of Youthful Days is a currently airing Chinese BL that is doing a class disparity romance and has been killing it so far.

So there is my incredibly long answer to your questions! Thank you again for sending me this kind note; I'm so appreciative that we can chat about this stuff and still maintain our love for these shows. I hope you find some things you like on the rec list, as well. :)

[ret1cent]

the space between (pt.1)

josh dun x fem reader

WC: 3,000+

“you want me? fuckin’ well come on and find me”

a/n: hey everyone! this is my first fic on here and the first fanfic series i am dedicating myself to ever since a wattpad markiplier x reader fic i wrote in 6th grade LMAO.. so bear with me as i get used to writing consistently again.. just a heads up this fic will have heavy themes for some people so make sure you read the warnings <3 i also think it's worth mentioning that unless made obvious all new characters introduced are purely fictional.

warnings: angst, unhappy relationship, falling out, topics of mental abuse and manipulation, bad work environment, stress and depression, abandonment issues

pt.2 here

May 19th, 2016.

“On your right!” I hear the voice of a man coming from behind me.

I whip around, quickly swerving to the left, almost running into the wall of the hallway as a group of camera loaders haul a huge camera, wind rushing past me as they scurry past. I sigh as I look down and see that the sudden maneuver caused the coffee in my hand to splash onto the front of my cardigan. I closed my eyes, as if when I opened them again the overwhelming feeling of frustration building up in my chest would magically dissipate.

I was delivering coffee like an intern and my favorite cardigan is stained, today is going great. I continue down the hall and enter the studio, the overhead lights shining hot and nearly blinding. I stagger through the bustling set, unable to hear my own thoughts from the chaos amongst me. I walk until I find Frank, a big burly guy with dark facial hair who wore the same crusty hat every day. He’s my new boss and the head of our production department who ordered me to bring him a latte. Needless to say it was quite embarrassing to play out an intern movie trope in real life.

“Frank, I have your coffee.” I say, pulling his attention away from the set designers he was closely studying, most likely looking for any excuse to yell at them. He looks over at me in silent annoyance and takes the coffee without a word. I turn to start walking away but then turn back.

“You know I’m not an intern Frank, I’m a production assistant and I’ve been working with the actual equipment for years, you can give me more technical tasks.” I say bravely, trying to hide any obvious anxiety in my voice.

It was true, of course my job title wasn’t the most renowned. I hadn’t been with Warner Brothers for an prolonged amount of time. I spent many years picking up gigs with smaller indie film companies or brand photo shoots until I landed this job.

So on a lot of sets it wasn't unusual for production assistants to do coffee runs, but I had started to become well known and appreciated on sets due to how well versed I am with technology. I was usually given larger tasks. In fact, the last head of our production department had brought up the possibility of my promotion. Unfortunately, that was shortly before he left, and Frank was not shy about hiding his disinterest in the possibility.

He looks up at me, as if offended. “Well last time I checked I’m your boss and I don’t give a shit.” He says with a curt laugh. “I think I know what I'm doing I don’t think I need you to be telling me how to do my job.” He says harshly.

“Ok, sorry.” I say with false sincerity, biting my tongue to hold back the many profanities I wished to inflict upon him. As I start walking away, he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Is this fucking whole milk?” He asks in disbelief, stopping me in my tracks.

You’re fucking kidding. I look at him over my shoulder, confused.

“You just said you wanted a latte sir you didn’t clarify anything about the kind of milk.” I say with a thin smile.

“I always have oat milk in my latte you should know this about me!” He says, aggravated and shoving the cup into the hand of a passing intern. “Throw this away.” He demands her and she nods quickly in compliance and then he turns his attention back to me.

“That’s ridiculous I have never gotten you coffee before how am I supposed to know what kind of-! Forget it.” I say turning away to keep walking as I knew that no matter how good of a defense I had, arguing with Frank was like arguing with a brick wall. He was a stubborn, bitter man.

“Yeah, if you can’t even get a latte right that’s probably why you’re not working behind the camera.” He says with a crude laugh, and I quickly blink away the hot tears stinging in my eyes. Crying when angry was probably one of my most embarrassing tendencies. I make my way back down the hall, coworkers staring at me with concern after my obviously distasteful interaction with Frank.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

I sat in my car with my head on my steering wheel, still in the parking lot of the set as I tried to regain myself after all the frustrations of the day before I left. I sit up and sigh, putting my car into reverse. It was a quiet drive home, the radio quickly silenced as every song playing only seemed to further my annoyance.

I pull into the driveway of my house, wishing I had other plans to prolong my arrival. The house itself wasn’t the issue, it was in a quiet neighborhood in North Hollywood, it was a humble yet comfortable rental home with a cream-colored exterior, a warm wooden interior, a short red brick staircase with bushes lined up by the entrance.

The issue was my fiancé, Logan. We’ve been dating for 2 years and just got engaged this year. Everything started great until I slowly started to see red flags, him lashing out over minuscule inconveniences, random negative comments about me that he plays off like jokes, and the way he always seems to victimize himself in every argument we have. His family has a history of mental health issues and every time I try to bring it up to him, he gets angry, claiming that he’s a not a “crazy person” whatever that’s supposed to mean, or he claims that it’s my fault he acts the way he does. But we’re engaged and I'm almost 30 and still not married, our families have the expectations of our marriage and he’s not awful all the time. I still love him. But these days it was just difficult to be around him sometimes.

I get out of the car and walk into the house, finding him sitting on the couch drinking a seltzer in the dark, the only light being the glow of the tv. I turn on the living room light and he looks at me with annoyance.

“Hi.” I say curtly, putting my bag on the ground and laying my boots next to it.

���Hey.” He replies, equally as unenthusiastic, taking another long sip of his drink. I looked at the coffee table to see about 5 other abandoned cans. He’s been drinking a lot more than usual recently, he used to barely drink at all. “What’s for dinner tonight?” He asks and I bite the inside of my cheek, frustrated.

“Logan you were supposed to make dinner tonight.” I remind him softly, trying not to lose my temper and start an argument.

“No, it’s your night.” He says in a bored tone, not providing any defense for his accusation and not turning his attention away from the screen.

I knew from the bottom of my heart it was his night, we had assigned tasks for the week. His job today because he gets off work before me was to get groceries and make dinner for us. I don't even bother trying to defend this, knowing it’ll get me nowhere. I walk to the kitchen. Fine, I'll just suck it up and make dinner. I need to be fed one way or another. I opened the fridge to see it was mostly empty besides fruits, drinks and condiments.

“Logan did you not go to the grocery store?” I ask from the kitchen.

“Forgot.” he replies dully.

I feel my eyes burning with tears again and rub them away. Work has been hell today and all I wanted was to sit down in peace and eat a hot meal. I walk into the living room and Logan looks up at me, seeing my fuming expression.

“Why don’t we just order something?” he asks with shrug and annoyed tilt of his head. “I’m hungry and I know you are too.” He says trying to reason with me.

We’re on a budget, rent here is expensive and although we both held decent jobs it still wasn’t enough for constant luxuries beyond rent and groceries. But at this point I'm so exhausted and just want to eat.

“Whatever, just order a pizza, something cheap please.” I beg and walk down the hall to our room that was adorned with house plants and my photography framed on the walls, flopping onto the bed looking up to the ceiling. In moments like these I just can’t help but wonder what I’m doing with my life. Of course I'm lucky to have a job in production, so many people dream of that. But from a young age my real dream has always been photography. But it’s such a competitive industry that I finally just gave up on the idea of it, I needed a job that would sustain me. But at this point with rent going up and my mental health spiraling, even that doesn’t even feel worth it anymore. But I don’t have a choice, the industry is oversaturated right now and I'm lucky to even be holding my current job. I feel my phone start to vibrate besides me and turn it over to see that it’s my friend Kass calling me.

“Hello?”

“Hey dude, you ok? I saw Frank Fuckface was giving you a hard time earlier?” she asks gently.

I laugh softly at her nickname for him. “Yeah, you know Frank, he was just being a dick. Got mad I didn’t get oat milk for his latte when he didn’t even ask me for it.” I say with a scoff.

“Seriously oat milk? That’s a little fruity Franky.” Kass says and I laugh.

“Stop it!” I say and she laughs.

“I’m just saying unless you have an intolerance caring that much about what kind of milk is in your coffee is a little gay!” She says, both of us laughing.

Not that there would be anything wrong with him being gay, but he has not made his far right ideals and obvious homophobia very secret. He’s not the type to be careful about posting his opinions on social media.

“You know you can leave too... right?” Kass asks, turning serious and I sigh. Kass had recently put in her two weeks to leave the company. My work life was now going to be even more miserable without her. She has a new job lined up, but ironically enough it was to be a crew member for a tour of my ex best friend’s immensely successful band. I guess that’s just what happens when your friends have a web of attachments to each other.

“Kass...” I start with a sigh, already knowing where this was going.

“I’m serious (Y/n) I could easily hook you up. Or you could hook yourself up if you would just make up with Josh!” She argues. “Imagine how fun it could be. Us on the road escaping from all this bullshit, helping with these amazing shows! Their music is phenomenal, and you know it.” She points out.

She wasn’t wrong, I was happy for Josh in that aspect, I never had any wishes against his success, him and Tyler worked incredibly hard and deserved all of the success and adoration they got. “Of course I know that, they are talented. But I have a life here now, even if work sucks, I still have a fiancé and I'm getting married in a few months.” I say, hearing my own voice falter at the thought. “Plus, I just can’t be around Josh like that, I’m still hurt by everything.” I say softly.

“I know.” She says gently and there was a momentary silence. “But if you change your mind...” She says playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

“Nooo.” I groan.

“He’s back in LA right now!” She says in a singsong voice.

“KASSSSS!”

“Ok fine, dropping it.” She says laughing. “I just wish I could keep working with my bestie.”

“I know, me too.” I say sadly, my chest suddenly feeling heavy with emotion.

She changes the subject, and we talk for another half hour until she had to go. The happiness from talking to Kass quickly faded when I came back to my dull reality, the house was quiet besides the hum from the ceiling fan and the incoherent voices coming from the Tv in the living room.

Maybe it was crazy, but I couldn't help but feeling a sense of yearning for the life that Kass had described to me. I can imagine it now. Seeing new cities every week, exploring with Kass, being cramped but content in a tour bus with likeminded coworkers, late night gas station runs, bonding with Josh, Tyler and Mark again... My heart stings at the thought.

Josh and I were long term friends. We met in 2010 through a few mutual friends. Ever since that point the rest was history, we spent countless days lounging around each other’s places, going to gigs together, me going to his own band’s gigs, hanging out at each other's work places when things were slow...

We were inseparable. When Josh met Tyler, he quickly introduced me to him. I got along with him effortlessly, we all formed our own little group with the three of us and the boy’s other mutual friends. I helped Tyler and Josh with their creative ventures with the band, me and Mark often acting as their camera crew. I did photography for them and promoted the band around as much as possible. Those were the days. I didn’t know it at the time, but things were just so much simpler, they were fresh, new and exciting.

Josh and I fell out of contact in 2013. He had started dating a girl by the name Sophia the previous year. He was head over heels for her and I supported him in every way. He seemed happy with her. Josh even brought her to hang out with the group sometimes. I always tried to make her feel welcome and even create a bond with her, but she just never returned the same energy.

Over time Josh became less and less available to hang out. I understood, he had a girlfriend after all, it was normal for him to want to spend time with her. But it got to a ridiculous point where I finally confronted him about it. I look up at my ceiling reflecting on the memory.

January 12th, 2013.

I sat on a wide leather couch with Josh, his legs sprawled across it while I sat in the corner of it, my head leaning against the wall. Mark and Tyler in the other room filming a video Josh had already completed his part for. It was the first time he and I had been alone together for a prolonged amount of time in months. We had been chatting and laughing about random things, but I finally gained the courage to ask the question that had been pressing me for so long.

“Josh?” I ask softly, my voice holding an air of somberness.

“Yeah?” He lifts his head up, sitting up halfway and bracing himself back with his hands. His expression held slight concern, yet a strange look of expectancy. Like he knew what he was going to hear, or like there was something he wanted me to say.

“Why haven’t we hung out just the two of us in so long?”

His expression falters. “Well, you know with us releasing an album under a label for the first time and being with Sophia I don’t know things have just been... busy" He stutters slightly.

“I know I know.. I understand things have been hectic for you guys, I’ve been seeing it firsthand. It’s just that... It always used to be us... You know?” I let out a shaky breath. I was never good at any kind of confrontation. “I just... miss you man.” I say sadly.

Josh fully sits up, his hands on his knees as he looked at me. “I know I... I miss you too.” He says genuinely yet almost sounding guilty.

There was a silence.

“Can I be honest with you (Y/n)?”

“Of course.” I say, a nervous anticipation swirling in my stomach. I don’t even know what to expect.

“Sophia doesn’t want us to be friends anymore...” He says slowly.

There was a long pause.

“Why?” I ask, a blurry layer over my eyes as they welled up. I had a gut feeling ever since we stopped hanging out that this was probably the situation at hand. I was just hoping it wasn’t true.

“She thinks we’re too close. I-I don’t know she always freaks out about it. She thinks there’s something going on between us and it’s been causing a lot of issues in our relationship.” he says, running his hand over his face.

I scoff. “Well, that’s ridiculous, have you tried to tell her nothing weird is going on? We’re just friends!” I say and he looks down at his shoes at this, not saying anything for a moment. He looks back up at me.

“I’ve told her that so many times she just won't believe me.”

“Well, she should trust you! You’re her boyfriend.”

“I know...”

“So... what do we do?” I ask, looking up at him and he looks to the side, biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

“I guess we’ll only be together when we're with the group... That’s what she asked me to do.” He says, avoiding eye contact and I laugh in disbelief.

“What so we’re forbidden from ever hanging out again?” I asked, standing up and wiping the tears that were dangerously close from rolling down my face.

“(Y/n) she's my girlfriend!” He pleads desperately, also standing up.

“What so that means our friendship lost all value? You aren’t even trying to fix this!” I say, slightly raising my voice.

I hear the noise in the other room quiet and a few moments later Tyler and Mark are standing in the doorway, concerned expressions on both of their faces.

“Guys what’s-” Mark start’s but Josh speaks over him.

“I have been I’ve been trying so hard to fix everything, but I don’t know if I can!” Josh says his voice staggering.

I was silent, looking at the pleading expression in his eyes. “Well... I think you’ve made it abundantly clear where your values lie.” I say with my arms folded over my stomach while I walk to the door.

“(Y/n) stop!” He pleads.

“Why should I?” I ask plainly, turning around with a humorless smile.

“You’re my best friend.” He says quietly.

“Then fucking prove it.” I say, turning back around and leaving the building.

That was the last time we had spoken.

Tyler and Mark reached out to me occasionally after the fight. They let it be known that their friendship to me still held despite me and Josh’s falling out, but I slowly fell away from their friendship as well. Not that their efforts didn’t go unappreciated by me, but being with them only when Josh wasn’t around would’ve felt wrong, it would have only remind me that everything had changed. So my relationship with Tyler and Mark held in the way a pair of old high school friend’s would, they’d text happy birthday and send holiday wishes, but we all had our own lives to move on with.

Of course me and Josh’s relationship equated to nothing after everything. We weren’t petty enough to unfollow each other on social media or block each others numbers, we just never talked. Josh would try to text me after the fight, apologizing and telling me he missed me. But I was hurt, his actions spoke louder than words. When I never responded he slowly stopped texting. I suspected this was the work of Sophia, or him just realizing it wasn’t getting him anywhere. I just wasn’t going to reply. Maybe this was petty of me, my stubbornness had never been one of my attractive traits.

But when you’ve had so many people who mean anything to you in your life leave, you just learn to let go. Holding on so hard only hurts more. But no matter how hard I tried to block out the pain of Josh’s absence in my life, it always lingered. It felt as if a part on my soul was missing ever since that day. I rub my hands over my face. Is it crazy to feel that way about an old friend?

“(Y/n) the pizzas here!” Logan’s voice shouts, snapping me out of my trance.

I get up slowly. Yes, it was crazy. I have a new life now, and I have to remain present. I can’t stay stuck in the past forever, it’s time to move on.

I walk down the hall, my socks padding against cold wooden floor. He looks at me, holding the pizza box with a smile. I look up and softly smile back.

[bamboozledcorvid]

Head Canons for my favourite Neurodivergent X-men characters (I don’t think any of them are confirmed neurodivergent)

Scott Summers: (ASD)

- NEEDS schedules for daily life, he can be thrown into battle and adapt his plans to save everyone but if u ask him to go to the shop he needs a list; which shop, when it’s open, what is he buying, how he’s getting there and back.

- very particular about his things, no one can touch his things without setting him into a frenzy. He tries to remain calm and avoid having a meltdown but will be in an awful mood and semi verbal until the issue is resolved.

- Textures are bad. He hates anything that feels wet, sticky or slimy. He can’t handle it at all and he’s hopes none of his enemies ever find out because it’s the worst physical torture he can think of.

- If he’s focused or obsessed on something it becomes the only thing that matters to him. He won’t eat, he won’t sleep, he won’t talk to anyone until he’s completed what he has to do.

- special interests are war, heroes and his wife. It’s all he talks about, he is only interested in talking to you if it’s about battle strategies, fighting techniques, or Jean Grey.

- info dumps about unpleasant or inappropriate topics and can’t understand why people don’t want to talk about it or will tell him to shut up. He’s also seen as ‘blunt’ and ‘rude’ because he’s overly honest.

Pietro/Peter Maximoff: (ASD/ADHD/DYSLEXIA)

- Physically vibrates when he stims, he’s a leg bouncer and an arm flapper but at an insane speed, he’s burnt holes in carpets with his leg bouncing.

- despite how fast his hands move his mind still moves faster so his writing and spelling are all over the place because even he can’t keep track of his thoughts. Will often miss letters or completely skip a few words. (This also applies to his reading skills).

- safe foods consist mainly of sugary snacks and sweets. If he’s overstimulated (which he usually is) or if he’s had a stressful had he can only eat safe foods, any attempt to get real food into him only makes his mood worse and snacks are better than nothing.

- very particular about his clothes, he can’t have tags or itchy hems and he definitely can’t have anything that sits wrong when he’s running. Has been the victim of extreme carpet burn due to trying to run in unsuitable clothes just because they had a nice texture.

- either talks to fast and no one can understand him or simply doesn’t talk at all. Despite how loud and talkative he seems he’s used to the silence because no one can keep up with him (physically or mentally) because he moves to fast. So if a conversation is particularly slow and boring he’ll just leave. He’d rather be in silence than be bored.

[campbyler]

ik part of it is that life and work just Be Like That sometimes, but every time i check back on your blog it seems yall are going through chronic ao3 author syndrome. sending love and good vibes your way i hope all three of you are doing ok and can catch a break soon!! (ik suni and thea yall are the ones writing the rest of it but sending love to andi as well)

also any tips on writing longer chapters without them sounding like they’re dragging on? i’m a (more casual) fic writer and my chapters always end up a little shorter than i usually hope they’d be

awake at 3am in a fit of jet lag and laughed aloud upon reading this bc you’re not wrong 😭 i feel like part of it is just timing, like thea’s work has a big busy season during the fall every year and her schedule also varies week by week and even day to day so i know some stretches are more difficult than others by default (rn she has been having to work from home on her weekend or after she clocks out which has been extra rough). my work tends to have bursts of insane work days every few weeks or so, and i just have a shitty daily commute on top of that and will sometimes get home like 12 hours after i left in the morning or something. so honestly there is a nonzero chance one of us is having a subpar time on any given workday i fear, and that schedule is pretty unpredictable given the nature of our very full time jobs. i also think it’s just statistically more likely that when we are active there is a reason for our Grievances to be brought up, either organically because we are coming out of a slump and are complaining about the Horrors or because someone checked in on us in a period of absence and we are giving a quick update, but either way, thank you so much for your wishesssss! thea will be getting a break soon (thank god) and i’m actually entering a bit of a busy stretch at work for the next week or so because we have a grant deadline to meet, which always means 10000 last minute experiments that i have to work into my schedule in the middle of the week and it’s really fun and lovely and great. woo hoo. 🙂

as for chapter lengths, i wish i had more solid advice but my problem is genuinely that i can’t for the life of me seem to trim them down 😭 i guess a part of it is largely how your chapters are structured — i only have a couple chaptered fics outside of acswy, but all of them are planned so that each chapter is quite meaty in terms of content or what i want each scene to accomplish. i will say that the singular thing that consistently drives up my word count is DIALOGUEEEEE!!! a blessing when i’m in a rut or have writers block and am trying to get something down on the page, a menace when im editing a scene transition i left to fill in for later and my wc is right at 29k and im sweating watching the number tick up. i find there’s absolutely nothing wrong with shorter chapters if it’s accomplishing what you hope for and i honestly am working really hard on trying to be more concise, but i do find dialogue to be a good way to slow down a scene that’s maybe rushing or is paced a little quicker than you intended. real conversations often stray off topic, people ramble or get sidetracked or get interrupted by things they’re doing — i love describing people talking while doing chores or eating or whatever because you can break up the dialogue with bits of action — and at least for me, it’s a lot easier to work in some narration or description in with dialogue than it is to just write a couple paragraphs of it straight up, which also sometimes feels a little more blunt and Quick than i intend it to be. one thing we both do a Lot is script out dialogue between characters and then go back in to fill in things like speech tags, action descriptions, inner monologues and thoughts, etc. literally just like:

character 1: ___ character 2: _______ 1, (note on how it’s meant to be said or what they’re thinking/intending to say to cue us in later): _____ 2: _____________ (small description of them moving around/something happening in the background to give a visual for describing later)

so on and so forth. it helps a lot either when we want to establish the setup of a dialogue heavy scene before we forget our inspiration, or we’re feeling a bit too blocked to be able to write more descriptively at the moment, etc etc. it’s a really natural way to focus on the flow of conversation without getting caught up in transitions and repetition of dialogue tags and stuff, and usually is the culprit for a scene taking way longer to finish than expected for me.

all that being said, the times i have actually felt like a chapter is paced too quickly is usually either when the dialogue exchange is too fast and feels like the conversation could be more fleshed out, or maybe likeeee a transition happens a little too immediately and it reads a little bit like one thing happening after the next after the next without much of a pause for expansion. if you’ve managed to get your point across in fewer words and your main concern is driving up the word count, i really wouldn’t worry about it! you could always have someone look at it with a fresh pair of eyes and ask for places they feel could use more explanation or detail (maybe describing a setting more vividly? or giving more insight to some of their thoughts at a certain point?) but genuinely — conciseness is a Skill, and seeing how i have once again accidentally answered an ask with one million words, i’ll actually just trade you some of my internal word vomit right now. here you go -> 🎁

[lapislazuli-13]

Does romantic love always triumph all?

(And also my thoughts on SNS as a queer platonic relationship)

Okay, let’s get this outta here first, I do draw fanarts for SNS and write some fanfics, too, so I won’t deny I’m a shipper of SNS, or at least an enjoyer of that aspect for their dynamic. Though when I scrutinise hard enough, I have to admit that I’m not a hardcore fan of them as a romantic couple.

I don’t really have a problem with their connection being viewed through a romantic lens. What bothers me is the widespread tendency to default to romance every time two characters share a connection that is emotionally intense, transformative, or intimate. There’s this underlying implication that once a bond reaches a certain threshold of depth or devotion, it must inevitably be romantic or sexual, and there’s no room for any other explanation or interpretation, as if no other kind of connection could possibly justify that level of closeness.

That frustrates me because it implies that romantic love is inherently superior to all other forms, which I strongly disagree with. That mindset is not only limiting but also reductive. It reflects a broader cultural narration to prioritise romantic love as the apex of human connection, as though it’s the only kind of relationship worthy of narrative climax or personal sacrifice.

But why must deep love always have to be romantic to be considered meaningful? Why can’t we acknowledge that platonic, familial, or even ideological bonds can be just as intense, just as life-altering?

In the case of Naruto and Sasuke, their relationship is clearly central to the entire narrative arc of the series Naruto. Their actions shape the trajectory of the world, while their choices reflect a deep psychological and emotional connection that borders on spiritual. But whether we interpret that as romantic or not shouldn’t have to be the ultimate measure of its significance. What they share is foundational. It doesn’t need to be romantic to be everything.

A quick two cents: here is where the concept of a queerplatonic relationship (QPR) becomes relevant in my opinion. For anyone who’s unfamiliar with the term, QPRs describe partnerships that are neither strictly romantic nor purely platonic, but occupy a liminal space that is deeply intimate, emotionally committed, and often life-defining. QPRs reject the hierarchy that places romance above all other forms of connection, and defy the boundaries of a typical romantic or platonic relationship (though noting that those boundaries can vary between person to person). From my perspective, looking at SNS through this lens can give proper space for the full spectrum of what their relationship represents: love and connection, loyalty and devotion, betrayal and forgiveness, and more, without forcing it into a romantic mold.

(back to the main topic) Overvaluing romance in such a way also does a serious disservice to other forms of love that are equally rich, complex, and worthy of recognition. When we default to interpreting emotional intensity through a romantic or sexual lens, we feed into a narrow emotional vocabulary, one that lacks the nuance to accommodate the full diversity of human connection. In this framework, intimacy becomes synonymous with romance, and emotional closeness must either culminate in sex, exclusivity, or a coupledom dynamic to be considered valid or narratively satisfying.

This mindset doesn’t just flatten character dynamics in works of fiction, it also flattens real human experience. It erases the legitimacy of non-romantic bonds, such as close friendships, familial love, found family, queerplatonic partnerships, or ideological kinship. These forms of connection can and often sustain people through trauma, isolation, and life’s most challenging periods. And yet, within dominant cultural narratives, they are consistently sidelined as lesser, transitional, or incomplete.

Such portrayals reinforce a deeply heteronormative, alloromantic, and amatonormative worldview. In this schema, the romantic dyad (typically heterosexual, monogamous, and future-oriented) is positioned as the most complete and desirable form of human relationship. All other forms of intimacy are expected either to lead toward romance, fade away, or serve as emotional scaffolding until romance arrives. This not only promotes a narrow range of relational experiences but also ostracises those who do not (or cannot) conform to it, such as aromantic, asexual, or polyamorous individuals.

But does romantic love really have a monopoly on depth, loyalty, or meaning?

Why can’t someone love another person deeply—enough to fight for them, grieve for them, live or die for them—without wanting to have sex with them or define that bond as romantic? Why must deep emotional ties be shoehorned into the exclusivity of a 1-to-1 relationship that assumes sexual and romantic coupling as the natural end goal?

To me, this line of thinking not only misunderstands love but also limits our imagination. There isn’t one single right way to express or categorise love that can dictate how one should love. Love can be a myriad of things, and romance shouldn’t be the default end goal for every intimate relationship.

There’s also an undeniable gendered dimension of this bias. Usually, when male characters express emotional vulnerability or care toward one another, the audience polarises in response: some viewers immediately interpret that intimacy as romantic or sexual, while others recoil and insist on stoic heterosexual distance. This double bind emerges from a culture that simultaneously devalues male emotional expression and fears male-male closeness unless it is couched in humour, aggression, or romantic/sexual coding. We’ve been conditioned to believe that men cannot express love unless it’s romantic, and if they do, it must either be eroticised or repressed.

Meanwhile, female characters are often granted more space for emotional intimacy in fiction, but even then, it’s not without scrutiny. Their bonds may be dismissed as “girl crushes,” diminished as “just friendship,” or, conversely, hypersexualised under the male gaze. But still, the key difference is that emotional intimacy between women is often allowed to exist without immediate narrative consequence, whereas male intimacy must either escalate (into romance) or be downplayed (into rivalry, banter, or something safely ambiguous.)

By constantly turning every profound connection into a romance, we’re not just oversaturating stories with ships (and all the unnecessary ship wars), we’re diminishing the narrative value of every other kind of bond. Not everything sacred needs to be romantic. Not every type of love fits neatly into a category with a kiss on the lips at the end.

So yes, in conclusion, while I can casually enjoy the romantic interpretation of SNS, I don’t think it has to be romantic to matter. In fact, it’s arguably more moving, more radical even, if it’s not, that in a story where two people fight, betray, forgive, and ultimately reshape the world because of the love they share without needing to kiss or couple up reminds us that human connection is not defined by romance alone.

And maybe, just maybe, that kind of love deserves more recognition than it gets.

[pikahlua]

i think some people wanted the students to change society enough that someone like toga would find acceptance at the end of the story and be allowed to live freely (as a normal school girl in her case) instead of eg having to go to prison. horikoshi not writing the manga that way means that he never created the enviroment where the villains had a "realistic" chance at getting a happy future even though he could have done so as the author of the story. and this is considered to be a "failing" of the themes. as i understand the ideal ending would have included toga never having a need to die for ochako at all because it would have allowed for her to find full acceptance within society as a "normal girl" because then she would have been truly "saved" (and the students would have achieved their goal)

Oh thank you. Finally a reasonable topic to discuss.

I'm going to be real, I don't know how Horikoshi could have believably written something where a serial murderer gets accepted by society without having to go to prison. Sure, that'd have seemed like a happy ending to some, but there would be a nonsignificant number of people who would have a real problem with that, and I don't think they can be dismissed out of hand. When we're talking about good writing, believability is a large component. I receive asks telling me that somehow it feels cheap that society would not completely change at the whims of three teenagers reaching out to villains, but if society HAD magically changed and accepted a bunch of murderers with no penalty for their crimes? I'm sure there is an audience for that, but THAT is a writing choice that would receive a lot of flack too--and I would have been one of those critics.

That said, I don't think the environment Horikoshi created is the major issue standing in the way of the villains' so-called happy futures. The environment for how any sort of redemption would look was set up for us to see with Gentle Criminal. Punishment and then rehabilitation. I agree that Horikoshi did imply the villains would go away to prison for life if they had been caught, but let's say for the sake of argument the villains did live and go to prison and were allowed rehabilitation in the same way Gentle Criminal got. I think that would have been a happy ending a lot of people craved, and for a while I thought I might like it too. However, I kept hitting a wall when I imagined it for Tomura specifically (I didn't devote much brainpower to Dabi or Toga at the time). It didn't feel like a happy ending for Tomura to me, and it's because to get there would have required Tomura to change SO MUCH it would've destroyed his character for me. Tomura didn't want rescue or redemption or rehabilitation, and so to force that on him and change him would've felt like society quelling a dissenter with no regard for the principles the dissenter stood for. It would've felt like only Izuku's wishes were fulfilled while Tomura's were erased. So even if that environment existed, I don't think it would've made sense with the characters Horikoshi wrote. I genuinely thought Horikoshi would go the rehabilitation route, but I had my reservations about whether or not he'd pull it off in a way I liked. When he DIDN'T go that route, I was shocked, but ultimately it all made sense. It was about his characters and the consistency in how they were written. I can only call that excellent writing, even if I'm a proponent for rehabilitation in real life. Horikoshi doesn't have to write a story that agrees with my principles for the writing to be good (and to be clear, just because Horikoshi wrote what he believed made sense for his characters doesn't mean he's opposed to rehabilitation in real life either).

[yoursoulvisions]

"Delayed life syndrome". Why are we living in expectation, not now?

How often do you catch yourself thinking that your "real" life will only begin when a certain event occurs or a specific condition is met? "Once I lose weight, then I'll buy myself beautiful clothes and start dating." "Once I save up enough money, then I'll start traveling and doing what I love." Sound familiar? It happens to me often, which is why I chose this topic as a "personal kickstart"! 😁 But I think this is a relevant issue for many.

This phenomenon in psychology is often called "delayed life syndrome" – a state where a person lives in constant expectation of the future, devaluing the present. We make happiness, self-realization, and even simple joys dependent on external or internal triggers that, it seems to us, will make us "ready enough" or "worthy enough".

What are the psychological roots of this syndrome?

Behind the desire to postpone life "for later" often lie deep-seated beliefs and fears:

Fear of failure or disappointment. "If I don't start now, I can't fail." Expectation creates an illusion of control and safety.

Perfectionism. You convince yourself that you need to wait for ideal conditions, an ideal "you", the ideal moment. Imperfection is perceived as unacceptable.

Self-underestimation. A feeling of "insufficiency". "I'm not good enough, not ready enough to live the way I want, right now."

Distorted perception of time. The idea of the future as something guaranteed and static, where you can simply "transfer" your plans and dreams.

What is the cost of this expectation?

The cost is high. While we wait, life passes us by. Opportunities are missed, present moments are devalued, and the future we await may never arrive in the form we imagined. A chronic feeling of dissatisfaction and missed chances arises.

How to start living now?

Getting out of this pattern requires awareness and active steps:

Recognize the pattern. Start noticing your thoughts like "when..., then I...". Note in which areas of life you are postponing actions and joys.

Re-evaluate your "conditions". Ask yourself: is this condition truly critical? What is the worst that could happen if I start right now, even without fulfilling it? ("I'll save up 'this much' money and then I'll buy what I want!" – my story, I don't recommend doing that.)

Start small. You don't have to wait for grandiose changes. Take a small step today towards what you've been putting off. Put on "that" dress just to walk in the park, start researching your future trip, dedicate 15 minutes to your hobby.

Practice mindfulness. Always relevant, everywhere and in any life situation! Learn to appreciate the present moment. Notice the details, sensations, and emotions "here and now". Life happens in the present (!!!), not in an idealized future.

Life is not a pause between big events. It consists of every day, every moment. Start living it today, without postponing your happiness to a mythical "later".

[haerin1]

hcs you have for Scara? Love seeing new writers around here 🫶

꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ SCARA HEADCANNONS.

note: omh ty for the req !! i did 2 versions bcause i got carried away UM anw enjoy xoxo kisses hugs :33

[wanderer!scara, modern au!scara x gn!reader] fluff, pinches of angst, mentioned mommy issues and trust issues !!

modern au scara !!

Scara is definitely a band kid and in my opinion, he'd absolutely be an electric bassist. He carries around the band-aids you gave him so he can use one whenever his fingertips get cut from the tough strings of the instrument.

Scara loves judging everybody in his classes and making people uncomfortable because he's a menace like that. His narrowed sapphire gaze following certain people with ill thoughts and a slight grimace; you already know he's judging them real hard.

It's simply impossible for him to go a day, no, even an hour, without his headphones and downloaded music from his favourite artists. Scara's music taste consists mostly of Chase Atlantic, Artic Monkeys, TV Girl, Cigarettes After Sex and he's a closeted Mitski listener.

Mommy issues and miscommunication trope with Ei. Scara aspires to be anything else but the occupation Ei suggested for him. Ei compares Scara to his sister, Raiden, without knowing it hurts Scara's feelings because she's bad at communicating and getting her words right overall.

Shops at Hot Topic and Miniso. Miniso, because he only goes there for the Kuromi stuff that reminds him of you (since you're always telling him how you and him are literally Kuromi and Badtzmaru) and Hot Topic is self-explanatory.

Adding onto the Kuromi and Badtzmaru topic. Ever since you made that comment, Scara ended up loving that specific pair of cute Sanrio characters. He now owns a Badtzmaru hoodie (yours is a Kuromi one: hashtag couple goals), five Kuromi figures and more than thirty things consist of Badtzmaru in his bedroom.

Scara's bedroom is neat but messy at the same time. The room is fairly big and he has his bassist on its stand in the corner of the room with a huge Badtzmaru plushie sitting on the floor by it. His bed is filled with your gifts of plushies from past dates or occasions.

Scara has an area dedicated to his favourite music artists with posters of their albums plastered to the black painted wall. You bought him TV Girl's French Exit vinyl for his birthday, which he always plays on the record player whenever you come over or when he's missing you (by missing you, I mean whenever you're not with him).

Everytime you mention a new song you like, Scara immediately learns it on his bass so he can impress you. You find it so cute how these little gestures of his are all for your compliments and affection when all he could do is breathe and you'd be head over heels for him.

Scara is unfiltered, cunning and a tease. He'll say whatever he wants at any given time and doesn't mind what people think at all (he fights back the urge to rock someone's shit when they disagree with him.) He's your cute little drama queen.

genshin au scara (wanderer) !!

Wanderer's favourite time of day is when the sun starts to set and he gets to have his long awaited tea time with you. You know the perfect way on how to make his tea and it's so natural to the point of when Wanderer tastes any other tea, it just can't compare to the way you make it.

Despite loving you very dearly, and he'd never admit this last bit aloud, he still has some sort of doubt against you. Should something happen to you that marks your permanent disappearance that neither you or him could prevent, what would he do? Wanderer simply does not know. And he certainly wouldn't want to know.

Wanderer enjoys the feeling of your hands in his hair. Whether your hands are soft, rough, cold, or warm, he doesn't mind. He just loves feeling your gentle and affectionate touch against his head as you play with his hair or even braid some strands together.

In general, Wanderer loves physical touch. Holding hands, soft kisses and hugs; It's all so wonderful to him. It makes him feel wanted and loved, like you actually think of him dearly. He loves it especially when you initiate it first. After that, he'll be more than comfortable doing it without waiting for you to do it ahead of him.

Wanderer keeps all of the silly trinkets, gifts and letters you've given him in a box that's kept in a very safe place where no one knows, not even you. Everytime he comes across it, unknowingly to him, a soft smile forms on his lips as he remembers the fact that he's this important to you.

Wanderer absolutely adores it when he makes you smile or laugh. He'll proudly smirk and throw in a teasing remark at this but is hiding the fact that he's just an embarrassed doll with an adorable lover. He loves making you feel good, both verbally and physically, as it feeds his ego and reassures him that he's doing great at being your beloved.

Wanderer's gifts for you are usually handmade, like the cute doll that looks like you which he got to keep so he could give you a doll that looks like him in return. He loves seeing you carry the doll around with you when you want to take it out of your messenger bag, holding it so gently as if it were Wanderer himself.

Whenever you're not paying attention, Wanderer looks at you and observes you. He loves noticing new little things about you, like the way you make little popping noises with your lips when you're bored or the way you subconsciously reach out to hold onto his hand. He adores every, single, little thing.

Wanderer often finds himself trying to impress you. If he sees you walking about, he'll immediately find something heavy to pick up and "coincidentally" run into you so he can make sure you see his amazing skills. You find this habit of his somewhat adorable as you smile and praise him for his strengths. He ends up getting quite flustered, in the end.

Depending on Wanderer's mood, he'll be very flirty one moment or very shy the next. If you manage to outdo him with his charming comments, trust me, he turns into the cutest blushing mess ever. He'll look away as he denies your question about whether he became timid or not.

🐾🍫🍮 : © haerin1 (do not translate, steal or take too much inspo from my works)

[kaeyachi]

i thought i was the only one who didn't like the nicole as diluc's mum theory 😭 even before the design reveal i've always had a feeling that she was going to be related to kaeya in some capacity. i'm a little buzzed rn so i can't articulate fully why exactly but the themes of angels, seelies and eyes in their characters esp makes me think so. i would love to hear more of your nicole thoughts !!!! doesn't have to be abt kaeya

side tangent but i've seen people theorize that nicole might be both kaeya and diluc's biological mother but ig for purely personal reasons that viewpoint unnerves me. i think it's just because i hate the troupe of "ohhhh this adoptive family dynamic was blood related all along !! they've been REAL family this whole time !" but each to their own y

I love Nicole! I will definitely be pulling for her (if I have enough primos... because this character list for Nod Krai? A bit too goated 😭 I'm already sure I'm gonna pull for Flins, Varka, Durin, Alice, Columbina, and Sandrone as well, but as an F2P who only gets away with 50/50 wins with pure luck, idk how far the primos I collect will go 😬)

For now, I am most excited for interactions between Nicole and Columbina, especially with the fact that they are both related to seelie imagery and lore. The pupils being suspiciously Kaeya-esque could always mean nothing, especially because Kaeya is a 1.x character (consistently well-designed though), but the earrings being similar too definitely made things even more sus! It also somehow makes Kaeya's oddly clairvoyant or defeated-toned dialogue a bit easier to explain if he is related to Nicole. I do make it a rule to not get my hopes up, but if there really is a legit relation (definitely doesn't have to be mother and son), then YIPEE!!

but oh my god that last part! YOU GET IT!! That's genuinely one of the reasons as to why I don't like it! Definitely a to each their own thing because I know some love this, but to me, it kinda feels diminishing of the "adoptive family is real family" concept that they have had from the start.

But even without Nicole being potentially related to Kaeya, I also don't like the odds of Diluc maybe being part Khaenri'ahn too (if Nicole really is Khaenri'ahn, we gotta wait for confirmation). It's the one distinction between Diluc and Kaeya that has also caused their major falling out. To suddenly pop up with "oh, you're Khaenri'ahn too!" this late without any indications from day 1? That's...

Also, once again, the adopted family dynamic is at risk here because the idea of 2 people of different descent finding home in each other is suddenly wonky because it might turn into "we are all Khaenri'ahn all along".

Another reason why the "Nicole is Diluc's mom" theory isn't my cup of tea (ah yes. the thing that started all of these theories. Nicole being a Ragnvindr cup of tea...) is because why would Alice offer to adopt Diluc in the first place when Nicole is right there? And on that note, did Alice offer to adopt Kaeya, too? Or is he out of the question because he has a living family member out there (like maybe a dad, or an uncle)?

Look, the evidence (her being a Ragnvindr teacup multiple times) is really compelling, but in turn, if she really is related to Diluc, then I hope she isn't related to Kaeya in any way, shape, or form at all, despite all design choices they made with her! And vice versa if she ends up being related to Kaeya!

Counter argument where the reason she uses that form is because Kaeya was adopted by the Ragnvindrs, and therefore, she likes popping up in that form instead (because being a Kaeya vase is not her cup of tea, pun intended)

But yeah, all of this really is just a personal opinion, so if you are cheering on the chance of Kaeya and Diluc being biologically related somehow, go have fun out there! Lot's of posts are about this topic right now, so you guys can find some memes and posts that would really tickle your fancy.

[yuugen-benni]

- Red Moon In Venus and Isolation -

Bsd boys in love with you - based on Kali Uchis songs ! A/N: I do not usually write song fics but this request won my heart. Tysm anon [Content: SFW!! - Reader by You/Your - songfic - Kunikida x Opposite!Reader, Mentions of Tachihara betrayal, Chuuya x Oblivious!Reader ] Charcs: Kunikida, Ango, Tachihara, Chuuya and Dazai

''Not too Late'' - Kunikida Doppo

A spouse, a lover: This subject consists of 8 pages, 15 topics and 58 items. It's impressive, isn't it? It is something very specific, and thus difficult to find, but Kunikida is diligent with his goals although he often forgets that love is absurdly strange and unpredictable. He fell in love with you: someone who doesn't fit into any of his demands, who is the total opposite of him, who is not organized, not programmed, who takes risks capable of breaking all the rules of the world!...But still he can't stop feeling nervous under your gaze. There are so many controversies about you, there are enough reasons for him to stay away, but he can't stop loving you...although he will never admit it. But perhaps he asks himself every day: ''is not it too late to admit that he loves you?''

''Gotta get up'' - Ango Sakaguchi

You're a dream to him, almost literally because every night, since the day Ango realized how mushy he is about you, he dreams with you. But Ango isn't ashamed of it. You make his 3 hours of sleep so much better, you clear his mind, you give him peace even if you were never really there. And when the alarm goes off at 5 am, his only wish is to stay in bed forever because only sleeping is the way he can have you all to himself. But he gotta get up…and perhaps get something real.

''I wish you roses'' - Tachihara Michizo

Saying “I never thought I would be without you” would be a lie. Tachihara knew what he was doing when he fell in love with you, but he made the mistake of getting too attached. As he hoped it wouldn't be reciprocated, his love became deeper as the ocean and he didn't want you to drown on him. But now, wearing that green uniform that means nothing more or less than his betrayal of those he cared about, Tachihara still watching you from afar wishing you love, wishing you well, wishing you roses.

''Body language'' - Chuuya Nakahara

Pissed off, that's what Chuuya is right now. He tried everything to get your attention, to make you understand what was boiling inside him! He's getting sick and tired of talking, because he told everything you needed to know - between the lines - but sometimes he wonders ''were you really listening to him?'' His only alternative is to grab your shoulders and kiss you, but he won't, because Chuuya is too pride to be the first to say, to show, to declare his love. As much as he wanted to have you close, there's nothing more to say, he just needs you to understand now.

''Worth the wait'' - Dazai Osamu

Osamu is drunk on his own feelings. It seems surreal, because he finds himself in a rare situation: he feels like he wants to be close to you every day. is it love? Dazai doesn't know for sure because he still needs to learn to love, learn not to hurt you. I would like to say 'learn to stop being someone empty' but in the end, you have already filled him.

Tysm for reading, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated! English isn't my mother language! REQUETS OPEN

[drdemonprince]

Your blog is like a breath of fresh air. Thank you for all the wonderful thoughts and writing.

That said I actually have a question. I am pro-palestine(it feels stupid to call it that, as if it should even be a debate) and in a very left leaning friend group. But also a very white academic one. You know the type, read Marx, dream of the revolution but continue studying to end up in 9 to 5s instead of doing anything(I am guilty of it too, this isn't meant as insult just a description)

Anyways, as you can imagine they have been extremely hesitant when it comes to having any opinion on Israel or Palestine. That wouldn't be a problem in itself, I know how to start topics with them and get them thinking usually but in this case there is an additional problem. Whenever I try to broach the topic I get shutdown with "Look at all the shit that is going on here, our country is falling into fascism, I just don't have the energy to deal with this conflict. Please don't talk about it because it's triggering". And I have zero clue what to do. Forget getting them to go on protests with me, I can't even speak to them about it and feel really guilty. Its me bringing up a heavily triggering topic after all. It feels wrong to feel guilty though. I know at the end of the day it's not important if I could convince some people to give a fuck but do you have any advice? How to get over this guilt or maybe how to broach a topic with that considered?

My main problem is my fear of losing my friends because I have been ill for some time(as in physically unable to leave the house for more than a short grocery run, or my visits to the doctor, because of pain and my friends are what keep me alive) and losing their help would be not good.

My exact situation aside, do you have advice for someone to broach a topic that others describe as unpleasant/triggering without causing a huge rift in the group?

Thanks for your kind words and your question, Anon.

I think your friends suck and that you can do better than them. I think you should get out there and find yourself some Black, brown, working class anarchist and anarco-communist buds (and Marxists who show up for others in a real, observable way in their regular lives) as soon as you can.

I know that wasn't the answer you were looking for. But I have seen this kind of entirely theoretical, jaded, self-superior, passive, white well-off Marxist type a thousand times before, and I've failed to ever see them show up for other people in any kind of consistent way.

And it's not only the people systematically crushed beneath the wheel of Capital half a world away that they neglect, either. They tend to be pretty shitty friends and neighbors when it all comes down to it on the micro-level, too. Their smug over-intellectualism and dispassionate cynicism allows them to justify remaining disengaged and going along with the status quo in a way that ultimately serves capitalism very well.

There is a theoretical basis to this selfishness and disengagement, I will admit. This type of overly academic Marxist typically believes that the fall of capitalism is inevitable, that humans lack free will and only behave as befits their obvious material interests, and that there is nothing that one can do on a personal level to hasten any kind of Revolution, so there is nothing left to do but wait, and take care of oneself, and allow the future to unfold.

This is a perspective explicitly advocated for by people like the Chapo Trap House guys, and among academic white boy communist types, it is incredibly popular. I remember hearing Matt Christman saying on his vlogs that he essentially does not believe the conditions allowing capitalism to fall will happen in his lifetime, and so his only responsibility is to just take care of himself and his family and be comfortable.

Ultimately, these types wind up sounding and behaving exactly like capitalist economists who believe that everyone is rationally motivated only by increasing their personal wealth. They are disengaged from politics except insofar as they like to make snide jokes about current events for their own entertainment and enrichment, and they don't see themselves as having the capacity to exert a positive influence on the world, nor any obligation to. It's bleak shit.

At the same time, if your friends are in the circles that tend to read and listen to and promote this kind of stuff, surely they have also been exposed to popular leftist voices advocating loudly for the Palestinian cause. And yet still they have done nothing.

Hasan Piker has been vocally pro-Palestine his entire career, and his Twitch channel has been providing near constant coverage of Palestinian issues since October 7th. True Anon has had multiple episodes on the Israel Lobby, the suppression of pro-Palestinian activism and journalistic coverage, and has aired interviews with Normal Finkelstein. Palestine is the central topic of nearly every Trillbilly Worker's Party podcast for months now.

These are widely popular voices among the very types of Marxists that you say that your friends are, and many of these creators are close friends with the Chapo Trap House guys, whom your friends almost certainly are taking notes from. So it's nearly impossible to imagine that your friends have not encountered the near constant coverage of the struggle of the Palestinians that all the rest of us have. And yet still your friends do nothing. Still they do not care, and dismiss you when you share with them how despairing you feel.

Your friends have turned off an essential part of their hearts, I think. And I don't mean they lack empathy. Not having empathy is fine, I don't have it either -- but I make the conscious choice to care about the Palestinian cause and to advocate for it, because it aligns with my values. I give a fuck. My giving a fuck is conveyed through my actions, not through what I think about or how I feel.

Your friends are showing no interest in learning more about this genocide or doing anything about it. Perhaps some degree of ignorance or hesitancy could be justified early on because the Israeli apologist propaganda is so far reaching, but we're well past the point of that explaining away inaction by now. Over 100,000 people are missing and over 30,000 are known to be dead and little girls are being shot by snipers while seeking medical care while babies are left to rot in their NICU beds.

Your friends know this. Maybe not everyone in the world does, but if they're so well-read about leftist issues, your friends do. And they have chosen, for some reason, not to care. They've disconnected from the pain the Palestinian people are in, unplugged from the steady stream of upsetting information, sought comfort in a politics that says all too conveniently that nothing they do matters, and when you try to share with them how much anguish you are feeling about the mass deaths happening throughout the world, they're dismissive toward you.

Your friends suck. If acknowleding reality and confronting the horrors of a genocide is too tough and triggering for them, then a lot of horrors here at home will be too much for their fragile egos too. There are so many leftists you could be surrounding yourself with instead, I promise -- people who give back to their communities, people who are in the streets doing the tough work of feeding and housing and fighting for the release from prison of people every day, instead of using those local struggles as a shield for their inaction on a more global scale.

Fuck these people for real. This is a big glaring red flag and it will be relevant to your friendship and your life. One day many of them might see you and your problems and your human needs as too much of a distraction from their dry academic jerk-off sessions too. I've seen it a dozen times. Sorry to be so blunt. But you seem like a person who is putting their attention in all the right places and I don't want to see that compassion squandered on people who won't ever show you the same consideration. You can find people who actually walk the walk, they're everywhere.

[clavissionary-position]

What Emma Would Do

Ignore me. This is just me working through my own thoughts and feelings on this. Also I'm an idiot.

***BIG EDIT: I misread and misinterpreted. Azel was nearly drugged and SA'd, so his reaction, however cruel, makes complete sense to me. If he was real I couldn't apologize to him enough.

Moving @/caffedrine's billion-dollar comments up here.

My original, misguided post is below the cut if you're interested.

I have to ask myself what Emma would do. Within reason. And only within the scope of this fictional game, because I'm not about to touch this topic as it exists in the real world. That's for people much smarter than me.

But for the game, my dismissing of Azel as a cruel misogynist without seeing his circumstances and worldview shuts down the conversation the same way it does when Azel dismisses a woman as a slut without seeing her circumstances and worldview.

(Did he actually use the word 'slut' or did google just translate 痴女 like that for me... I should double-check... edit: oh my bad, he calls her a "female molester", which... I can't say he's wrong considering she tried to give him an aphrodisiac...? The word also means "stupid woman", so he could very well have meant it that way too, especially for some reasons I get into later in the post.)

Soooo, he didn't actually call her a slut. I'm an idiot 😌 I'm sorry, Azel. Dunno if any of my points below mean anything, but I'll leave it here anyway:

The running theme in Ikepri is to look beyond the beast and see the human inside. To meet them halfway. To see their heart. And that heart is always so very terribly scarred. All these guys have gone through their own traumas and come out the other end behaving in ways designed to be armor, to protect themselves from any further pain.

I can only speculate about Azel this early in his story arc, but being showered with the same adoration and reverence that people only show a god, day in and day out, probably fucks with your mentality a bit if you are still only human at the end of the day. Having women try to seduce you only because you're The Living God, well, we saw what that kind of shallow treatment did to Silvio. Women see you as an object and so women become objects to you. You want to be loved, but you don't want to be hurt.

That might only be scratching the surface with Azel, though. He's also clearly jaded from listening to the same old interpersonal problems people have when in relationships. Love is actual trash to him, not even worth a single penny. It's trash because the very people who follow him prove it to him on a daily basis, I imagine.

Yet that's still not the full picture. I mean, we obviously won't have the full picture until his main route drops, but there's another key factor to consider with Azel.

He quotes Pascal in Licht's sequel. "Man is only a reed, the weakest thing in nature; but he is a thinking reed." The full quote goes onto say:

"All our dignity consists, then, in thought. This is the basis on which we must raise ourselves, and not space and time, which we would not know how to fill. Let us make it our task, then, to think well: here is the principle of morality.”

(Did I read the entire context of the quote? HA! What do you take me for? A scholar or something?)

Free will and independent thought is arguably the most important thing to Azel. He has no respect for the sheep who flock to him for direction (though he'll happily take their money and tributes). Even with the dancer who tried to seduce him in the prologue, when he tells her to lick up the food she dropped after he tripped her, he presents it as a choice. Nevermind that the staggeringly unequal power dynamics at play made it so this was nothing short of coercion in the end; there was no way the dancer was in a position to stand up for herself and say no, even if that's exactly what Azel wanted. But from his perspective, defiance would have been welcome. That's why he phrased it as a choice. That she started licking up the food only solidified in Azel's mind that this woman is an unthinking reed without dignity. If you're going to act like trash, he'll treat you like trash... maybe that was part of his thinking.

On a slightly different note, I think another reason he hates the idea of love so much is because love makes people lose their ability to reason, to think. I believe he outright says as much, iirc.

In the end, I don't know from where exactly Azel's fury and cruelty comes from. It could be all of these things, it might be something else entirely. All I can think is, you can't be 'God' everyday and not be scarred by humans.

In conclusion, I can't excuse Azel's behavior. I don't excuse it. But I think Emma would try to understand the why of it, like she does in any other route. The other running theme in Ikepri is that, as a certain someone would put it, the essence of all people is love. It's their environment that twists them. Somewhere in Azel is the purest kind of love. A kind that would make any god look away in shame. That's what I want to believe in, anyhow.

Also, I need stress that I was SO wrong about whether he actually called the dancer a slut or not. Google fucked me over by translating it that way! Ah, Azel, I'm so sorry!

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

About “I was originally going to wait until my ask list died down but who knows when that will happen” (I love reading tags on posts from blogs like these for further thoughts), you could go the route that a lot of other big blogs I follow do where you pick a day of the month—most of them do the 1st since it’s the easiest/the beginning, but any significant, consistent date between months that’s easy for the blog runner to remember works—and turn off asks until you’ve either cleared out your ask box entirely or made a sizable, standard dent that you KNOW won’t be built back up in the following month (10 a month, 25, 50, etc.), then take a rest day/a day to notify your followers that you’re turning asks back on before turning them back on. Everybody deserves to be able to catch up on stuff and take breaks without the bucket continuously filling, ask-driven blog runners included, and your followers will understand. 💖

I love knowing that people read my tags! I do occasionally leave bonus content there!

Thank you for the kind words. I don't think I'll be turning off my ask box as I don't mind a long list of asks and I've established that it can take a while to get answers from me since I often give long answers, but I may just let my queue run out and my asks built for a bit. It's been a while since I've had a real break from talking about Miraculous due to the blog's unexpected popularity. I'm honored that people want to hear me babble that much, but it's a lot.

While we're on the topics, I wanted to warn that multi-part asks are unlikely to get answered in a timely manner. I have two in my inbox at the moment and I keep meaning to get to them, but they are massive walls of text that I have to pull into word, edit into something readable, and then come up with a reply to, which is way more work than a normal ask. Every time I sit down to try and do it, my brain just goes "bleh." Don't let that stop you from sending multi-part asks if you want, just know that they will take ages for me to get to!