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does anyone else ever think about the characters

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Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea

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Sometimes you have to function in society while your head is full of The Characters.

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another great ship dynamic is "characters who are deeply traumatized and haunted by nightmares are finally able to get a peaceful night of sleep in each other's arms"

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writing is so funny because i could write nonstop for 9hrs and then hit a block where im like "how do i transition between this moment and the next?" and then i just dont touch it for 6 months

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listen, sometimes it's more powerful for a fictional relationship to be a friendship precisely because friendship is devalued in comparison to romance. anyone can sacrifice themself for the love of their life. but for a friend? if anything, that kind of devotion can be even more moving than if the relationship is romantic. there's a real dramatic power to prioritising friendship in your narratives sometimes.

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Can we erase the idea that low-wage workers being visibly human on the clock is "unprofessional." It does not hurt customers to see cashiers drinking from water bottles or sitting on chairs. But water deprivation and forced standing are both established forms of torture. Hope this helps 😘

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happy pride to the boyfriend who looks like a girlfriend that mr the killers had in February of last year

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this weekend marks nine years since i went no contact with my father. it still feels like a weird overshare to make these posts every year but i do it for a reason - to observe and celebrate one of the hardest and most important things i ever did, and to make sure anyone who might need to see it is able to see a public, loud, proud reminder that this is a choice that people can make, and it's a choice to be celebrated.

it wasn't a choice that i made once, though the first choice was the biggest and hardest. it was a choice i made over and over and over again, a choice to protect myself and my peace from someone who had hurt me terribly and who never had the right to do that, regardless of who he was to me. i spent seven of those nine years being lectured and shamed by the rest of my family, and by complete strangers, trying to get me to resume contact with him. even my maternal grandmother, who couldn't stand him and never spoke to him even after my sister and mother reconnected with him, regularly attempted to pressure me into having a relationship with him. two years ago next month, he died. in a letter i read after his death, he echoed what other people were saying - i was making the wrong choice. he had factors outside his control that made him a bad father. i was punishing both of us out of vindictiveness over circumstances i didn't truly understand and i would regret it because he wouldn't be around forever.

i have never regretted it. he died seven years after we last spoke, and at no point during those years, or the two since his death, have i regretted it. it's still hard sometimes. i still mourn the father i didn't have and never had - the one who never would have forced me into making that choice in the first place. i mourn my connection to my indigenous identity, which comes from him. it's painful when people - family and friends and complete strangers alike - try to lecture me about forgiveness and grace and what family means. none of that comes close to comparing to the safety and relief i feel knowing he can never hurt me again. he will never meet my wife or know my children's names, and for that i am grateful and proud. nothing can take away or change my right to have made that choice almost a decade ago, no matter how hard or painful it could be at times. none of that compared to the freedom and safety it brought me.

happy nine years to me. happy however many months or years it's been to you, if you've had to do this too. and if you haven't, or you can't, but you think you want to or might want to someday - i'm here to tell you that's okay. that's a choice you're allowed to consider, and a choice you're allowed to want. i hope you can safely make that choice someday, as soon as is right for you. don't listen to any of them when they say it's wrong or selfish or bad or cruel. i'm proud of you for even thinking it, and i'm here if you need me.

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2015? that wasnt even that long ago. it was only... [doing the math] ohhh. ohhh..... oh dear...

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Saw this post on Bluesky, and thought it would be helpful to share over here as well:

🚨 Support Los Angeles immigrant communities 🚨

Please consider donating to one or all of the following orgs:

Immigrant Defenders Law Center:

https://give.immdef.org/donate

LA Jail Support / Bail Fund:

https://account.venmo.com/u/jailsupportla

Unión del Barrio:

https://uniondelbarrio.org/main/support-our-work-my-making-a-donation/

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gd help me this louisa shirley fwb smut fic is going to break 20k isn't it

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Every unhinged fic writer needs an equally unhinged friend who "yes ands" their ideas and encourages them to write all their most far fetched and insane stories.

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(opening the author’s works page after finishing a fic) and if im lucky they’ll have written this exact same fic but different a bunch more times

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do you think it'll all be okay?

yeah. even if it won’t i’ve got people to love in the meantime

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When my mother forgets a word, she is the queen of coming up with new words. Words that would take a third National Treasure movie to fully decipher. I was talking to her yesterday, and she said this: ���You know the time for los jibbities is coming up. You must be so excited!” Oh, is it time for los jibbities already? I must have missed it on my calendar. Are we celebrating something? “Of course! We should all be celebrating, shouldn’t we?” OK, so los jibbities is a happy thing. It’s not like something is giving you the heebie-jeebies, which would have been my one and only guess. “Los heebie-jeebies? Now you’re making things up...and this is my show.” You’re right. The time for los jibbities is coming up. Is this a season? “Yes, the season for love. The season for pride.” OK, los jibbities. “Yeah, sound it out.” Los…jibbities. LGBTs! “Sí, mira cuz you’re gay!” “You couldn’t just say pride season? You couldn’t just… *laughs*

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always remember the Final Girl Code:

- do it alone

- do it scared

- do it with a knife in your hand if you have to