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Fruits Basket is Still Amazing

Watching Fruits Basket after missing the last few weeks.

I was thinking back to the first time I saw Fruits Basket when I was in high school and thinking how terrible it was for the Somas. How inevitable Akito was. I never questioned their obedience and empathized with their feelings of being trapped and trying to rebel in small ways. I understood their fear on a visceral level because I lived with my own Akito. My mom, who was also mistreated and abused who then took it out on those around her, just like Akito. But I saw Akito as a pure villain, but an inevitability. That there was no real escape. And the way the first series ended never resolved these feelings, just ended on this idea of hope.

Now that I watch the new series as an adult, I find myself frustrated with this bond the Zodiac has to Akito, begging them to just break it. Demanding they act out and break the bond themselves. I have forgotten what it feels like to live in obedient fear of someone and I think that shows how much I have grown. I'm now on the outside. The curse on me is broken, I just need to learn how to forgive Akito now. I’ve never been a Tohru, I don’t particularly want to be. Rather, I feel more like Rin. But lessons can be learnt in media, and I hope to one day learn to soften my heart.

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I just learned this but Sanders’ website has an “anti-endorsements” page which I consider absolutely excellent. This is the thing that makes him tolerable for me tbh, I would love to shift the American metapolitical landscape to the point where we start recognizing that realpolitik rather than bipartisanship is the guiding principle

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“One Day in Sir Pentious Life”

Hope you will like guys !

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Hank: The next time I'm opening up to someone is my autopsy.

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Unfortunately thus is the massive minority. Most authors no longer want any in-depth information on how their story resonates with an audience. They do not care about how to connect with others. They brush off that shit by saying "MY story, not writing for anyone!" But you are writing for an audience. It is a hobby. It is a passion, but it is still meant for an audience. Otherwise, why are you looking for an audience online?

If the review is mixed, grow from it. The few reviews that explain what could have been done better or differently for better results can actually make the entire experience more emotional and fun for us as the writer. Can improve the story for the long run and create an even bigger audience in the long run. And then your next story can be even better because you understand the story from the view of the audience, not the writer.

i don’t think people really get how little feedback fanfic authors actually get? like the effort to reaction ratio is so abysmally skewed here that a fic nearly 50,000 words long takes an entire year to amass like. 16 comments. someone reblogged a fic i wrote at 4 am and tagged it with a 5-word compliment and i can’t stop thinking about it, not because it was so nice but because half the time you post a fic you’re going to hear nothing and anything feels like so much

fandom culture is so, so good about giving artists the credit they’re due, but we gotta start doing that for writers too. you’ve got no idea how much people put into their stories and get maybe a handful of reblogs and a dozen-odd kudos. that’s not enough. writing is an endurance sport and y’all need to start giving fic writers a reason to endure it and improve their craft. encourage writers like you encourage artists. reblog fics, leave tags, leave comments, acknowledge that these stories do not just spring into being for your entertainment. 

every single damn writer i know feels like half of their readers see them as a machine. that’s gotta change. 

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Internal organ dysphoria

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some relevant memes

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HAPPY PRIDE MONTH

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Gender dysphoria, body dysphoria, body dysmorphia.

Put me down

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If anyone isn't against dropping some cash, ClipStudio is up with Photoshop and Sai. Tho definitely recommend keeping an eye out for sales, you can get the pro version for around $25 during christmas.

Also, FUCK subscriptions. I buy it, I want to OWN It!

Read more here:

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Shades of Blue

    There were rarely any tears left to shed, it became more of a courtesy if one or two could manage a few. They were dying, but how long could they live surviving on skeletons? Death breeds death, that was all he had gotten out of it. Cyberlife had put so much effort into making them look and feel real, their eyes were what sold the illusion. They blinked, their gaze wandered, they caught the light and could replicate any expression, but once they shut down, all that was left was the stiff mask of a doll. Sometimes in pain, sometimes in fear. The worst had to be the cold acceptance of the inevitable.

    Simon swept his fingers gently over Tyler’s face, closing his eyes in the process. Now he looked human, the LED colourless and dead but his skin was still activated, and they could not lose colour like a corpse. He looked like he was sleeping.

    The blue blood would be useless. Optical units could be salvaged. He glanced over to the fire they had burning, even if they didn’t need the heat, it was comforting and tended to draw those lost ones in. Lucy sat nearby, her skin unstable and eyes pitch. It had been touch and go for a while there after she arrived, but she had stabilized. She didn’t desperately need new units, but he would ask. He hoped she would say no.

The pump regulator was functional, the pump itself was shot. Tyler would complain constantly how it felt like it was glitching. It took too long to replace the blue blood and having to circulate the crystalized waste for so long was ultimately what had killed him.

    His eyes trailed up to the wall in the corner, the etchings carved into the metal with a piece of scrap. Tyler wasn’t the first to arrive with the compulsion, he had seen several who would write. Some used rocks, some were so insistent that they would claw the markings into their chosen surface. All of them had been struggling with over-processed thirium.

    And if things continued like this, it wouldn’t be long before the rest met the same fate.

    “You are troubled.” Lucy stood over him, undeterred by the body he knelt beside. The others avoided this part of the process instinctively. It felt nicer to remember them still alive. Still in one piece .

    He looked back to the WR400 (Tyler, his name was Tyler) beginning the deconstruction process, starting with the regulator. “The optical units are compatible for you,” he dodged her statement, avoiding eye contact all the while, “I know you never complain about your vision but-.”

    “I am fine.”

    “If you’re sure.”

   Lucy’s ethereal gaze was initially quite off putting, but Simon had long determined it had little to do with how they actually appeared and more with how she seemed to look through everything. She had seen so much, experienced more than he would ever dare imagine and still made her way to Jericho, alone. She was designed to help others, like he was designed to care for others. He felt her presence as she settled beside him, something both calming and disconcerting. He couldn’t say he enjoyed it.

    “Are you sure?” she spoke softly, but without a single inflection of emotion. It was nonjudgmental, designed specially for those on the edge. But Simon didn’t feel like he was teetering over an abyss. There was no danger of giving in, no effort in hanging on. Rather he felt as though he was being crushed, and nothing he could do or she could say could make it any better.

    “No,” his voice wavered, barely above a whisper. He stared at the lifeless face, reaching to the dead LED, a gentle hand laying over his before he could. Reflexively, he ripped his hand away from her’s, only retroactively aware that she had made no attempt to connect with him. The anger quickly simmering out to embarrassment, Simon avoiding Lucy’s gaze entirely.

    “You stand alone in a crowd, too afraid to look back. Too afraid to take a step forward. Afraid of the past you know, and afraid of the future you don’t, you exist in the space between time, the observer.”

    Simon remained silent, proceeding with his duty, removing the skin, watching the face melt away to reveal the doll beneath.

    “How do you expect to lead when you can’t choose your own path?” It sounded like chastisement if it wasn’t so flat; as if she was scolding a stubborn child who hadn’t quite broken a rule, but was still remaining difficult.

    “I’m not a leader.”

    “You are what they need you to be. That iswho you are.”

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Relationships are scary and complicated ONLY when you start thinking of your partner as some kind of adversary. 

You know how to stop being scared of relationships? Remember that it’s got a goddamn buddy system *built in*. That’s all a relationship IS: “Let’s approach life with the buddy system.”

Check on your buddy. Make sure your buddy doesn’t forget their lunch box on the schoolbus. Hold hands with your buddy so you don’t get lost. If your buddy wants to look at the monkey cage, look at the goddamn monkey cage with them. If you are the one looking at the monkey cage, ask your buddy what they want to do next, and when they want to feed the giraffe, help them find a quarter for the little food dispenser. Be a good buddy, and if your buddy isn’t a good one too, tell the teacher and ask for a new one.

This isn’t fucking rocket science, people. 

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The difference between you and I is that I'm not telling you how to feel. I'm not telling you that you need to hate North, or that you need to burn her at the stake. I'm just presenting her as an individual, a human, based off of who she is and her story. Only using deductive reasoning to complete narrative arcs and draw meaning from the story and her actions as an individual. To try and understand her and why she does the things she does and why things happen to her the way they do.

I mean, I love Izaya from Durarara. North is a puppy compares to him. Want to talk about selfish? Izaya will literally lure suicidal individuals to meet only to tell them he has no desire to kill himself and that he had no other interest than getting to know what their plans were for the "afterlife". And not because he really cared about their beliefs. He played mind games and word games, taking people's world views and desires and showing them the mirror, forcing them to come to terms with those contradictions, often times breaking those people. He didn't care who lived, who died, who he lost along the way, except for one person. And it wasn't out of love, no mutual bond between them, but his single friendship he held onto selfishly, fueled by jealousy and pettiness. The most egotistical, selfish, manipulative, self destructive, cruel character I have ever come across.

And I absolutely adore him. I don't hate North, I find her intriguing and interesting. I just want to understand her more and help others understand her too. Just because no one is singing her praises doesn't mean we hate her. And just because she doesn't deserve it doesn't mean that either. Who truly cares about the character more? The one blindly defending with no concept of who that person is, or the one who takes the time and effort to really try and underatand.

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I want a story about an Italian vampire.

No romance, no action.

Just 200 pages of “What do you mean, I can’t have garlic? Do you know where I’m from?”