#⏔ repetitive sentence ┄ ⊹

[cable-salamder]

When the Autism Friends from The Autism Friends Company come by and cause a category 7 Autism Event in my brain and then promptly leave without telling me how to stop it (impossible)

Edit: I am going to kms why do I keep misspelling stuff. Spectrum. Spectrum. Spectrum.

[neonfretra]

does anyone want to discuss hrpf outside of shipping + written fic context . because i think about where what i do sits in relation to it all

for brevity i will be referring to the real person as the player and the fictionalized interpretation of the player as the character

to get things outta the way, i dont think theres very much you can say about real life people before you start crossin into real person fiction (rpf) territory LOL

transformative art is rpf. speculation is rpf. narratives is rpf. the second you start steppin away from a direct relay of the facts as is, we gettin in ficticious waters IMO. its really a neutral thing to me and my ethics begin and end at "dont show people who dont wanna see"

and its real funny to think about how i do art just because it feels like i set up way less barriers compared to people who DO write fic . i see all this talk about making sure you make your stuff login exclusive, about not sharin it to the people involved, disclaimers about how its in fact NOT a reflection of reality that your favorite athlete is mpregnant and YOU are are mfather.

and i just hit post and call it a day LOL

TO BE CLEAR there is definitely layers to it in the sense that i see similar amounts of caution with say ship art or certain degrees of raunch.

shipping in the rpf scene is funny to me in the sense of the tendency to treat shipping as THE exclusive rpf thing. like no i dont think my tomas tatar fanart is 1:1 on the reality front either. for example, nj devils hairline is not that far back and thags the only inaccuracy.

heres the kicker: mmy foot.

most of my doodles tend to evoke a degree of characterization or narrative. yeag maybe its a little less 30k slowburn and a little more fabian zetterlund shot putting a man but. that is fictional, that is a character

im not saying that rpf defines players more than the reality of them does but i do believe it does enforce certain views

in the spaces i hang around ive noticed the narrativization around certain characters being part fueled by the information that is filtered by reporters and part interpretations bounced back and forth by fandom . and when you have eyes on a story, its easy to pick out information solely as it agrees with you

maybe the most prominent narrative ive seen for the sharks has been macklin celebrini having a jock dad -> therefore he got daddy issues, joe thornton houses him -> therefore mentor and father figure joe thornton? where even though i havent seen any direct relay of information from any players (though ivent been looking LOL) a lot of the discussion around it revolves around this common understanding that it just is (the funnier part is arguably that will smith hockey has been doing more for this narrative for patrick marleau BUT NEITHER HERE NOR THERE.)

and its really interesting to note HOW fandom warps or weaves the story by going off common tropes or dynamics to make sense of the public facing parts we do see, which is what i think is magnified through the lens of fanworks but not (necessarily) CREATED by fanworks

which is where i feel my work is part of the. ecosystem??? life cycle??? and then we all return to the dirt and the worms eat us???

how much or how little we define the gap between player and character changes from person to person. i simply do not have that goin on here. devin cooley eats joey daccords hair take it or leave it. annnnd main tag that

other times i feel we wear the divide thin are when there is headcanon that uses facts about the player (ie a lot of ship talk) or when the character becomes the kneejerk understanding of the player (ie liveblogs. very fun way to get a read of a communitys feelings on something because of how immediate the reactions on it are)

the point of this post isnt to shame or interrogate people about participating in rpf, im not looking for those sort of feelings, im fascinated by fandom culture as a twig off the old branch and i would love to hear other perspectives on the same topic (and different communities! i dont have much involvement in fic. which is. a massive hole in my perspective on this probably)

is it possible to cross the line from rpf to plain old original content LOL (the answer is intent i know but. walk with me here its fun to think about)

naturally theres a degree of "original character" to every depiction . you gotta make up some amount of it. theres no clear separation OF rpf and original content because everything is about borrowing. you make characters with inspiration from other things. its near enough universal for someone who deals with characters to have at some point lifted a character directly out of their original context and made them their own.

its not just their face or name or some other physical attribute that makes it rpf id also argue because i have seen people using attributes of real people as "claims" for origubal characters (like a "faceclaim" to say "this is how i imagine my character to look")

on top of that there is fluctuating interest on actually depicting the player, with approaches that i have heard of ranging from "character that shares the quantitative aspects of the player and thats IT" to "character that was made heavily referencing to things the player has said/done"

its interesting when certain players in rpf have a consistent character! which trends to be in teams with a more active rpf oriented fanbase (vs interest mainly in the real life hockey played), comparing the fandom of kraken to the golden knights on tumblr for instance. its also interesting to note that more popular teams just have more rpf centric leans. because there are more people to write rpf. i mean also we are on a fandom centric site and rpf bridges that gap from narrative/character fueled media and sportsball more LOL

(if you like sports from a purely sports oriented angle do you enjoy watching it? genuine question. because at what point is it "i could just be doing this myself" because ive hit that point with other things before LMAO)

i do call the difference being more "fandom" oriented but IDK if thats correctly using the word or just less syllables. and on top of that i cant exactly tell you if its popularity or stand out personality that holds more sway. though then again i guess those two traits arent separate from each other necessarily. or even that those are the only two factors to broad appeal (probably popularity with another player is up there. but im not trying to find a formula for most attractive to make rpf of)

to return to the kraken because that is the most rpf oriented team i follow, i do notice when players portrayed consistently. i can definitely tell you like. one or two character traits about players i do not follow the media of solely from liveblogs and art. complexity of the character varies by a lot, though i do think its interesting to consider the hows and whys.

a trait or interest being highlighted by media (i tend to see this in offical media coverage that gets spread by jokes) -> the character heavily revolves around this feature in jokes or casual reference, with heavy personal interpretation

media pushing a narrative by following a more cohesive timeline or story structure (i usually see this in fanworks. easier to identify the influence of IMO) -> fairly consistent character backstory or , at least in the broad strokes of it

just general agreements about tropes that are appealing with little basis on the player -> this is usually the more relationship focused character interpretation

there isnt usually just one factor (and this isnt an exhaustive list of factors) to one characters history. unless its a super new player on the radar.

its definitely a character that belongs to the fandom! as in the unique character to the unique community! its actually really funny how they evolve. you could probably fingerprint someones influences if you tried hard enough. with how new the kraken is (and the fact the fandom leans more towards being united as one body than any other team ive seen so far) it does get pretty easy to get it down to the post but. do your own treasure search. I wont deprive you!

(also its EMBARASSING... what if the people i mention SEE... im SHY...)

harder with an older fandom like the sharks there are so many dead and defunct sources or jokes so widely spread that it gets hard to locate the origin . because dead and defunct sources. though i think its growing a new ring around the fandom tree because of the newer players! so its a thought. to think about how different events influence the size and activity of a fanbase and to ask how different fans from different. eras? of a fanbase interact (or dont).

again i notice this in the sharks fandoms by comparing fans from the playoff contending sharks era (last playoff season was 18-19? start is a little murky but ill toss out that 2012 was the year tomas hertl was drafted because tomas hertl was an era of the sharks LOL a whole 12 years! i know people younger than his professional career and those people are catching up to me in height. humbling!) and fans from when the sharks were very much not playoff contending (quite an amount of the current active fans LOL). not sure if theres much to say without looking stupid. different jokes, notable players, friend groups, feelings towards other teams. all still feel very strongly about general manager mike grier scattering players like dandellion seeds to the wind.

(AGAIN. HOPING NO SHARKS FANS NOTICE THIS. IM SHY)

how many sharks fans havent seen logan couture on ice

again i am saying all this as someone who ACTIVELY participates in this BTW!!! does anyone notice that players i dont know definitely have a flatter "whatever is the funniest thing to say" angle . or that characters of players i know a few things about have like one punchline . or even that certain characters are consistent and not just bound by direct interpretations of one moment (which i do a lot of when im liveblogging) (dont get your hopes up for anything new here, the character usually is "pathetic and a little bit of a bastard")

i keep writing these disclaimers like. if someone disagreed this strongly they would not be reading this far. hi! is anyone still here. is someone still reading.

i have created life and i dont know to kill it.

i talk about one of my depictions of a player as a separate character (that is to say, a SEPARATE character from the character intended to represent the player) and i have NO idea if this is like. an OC? a defamation case in waiting? my spawn? do i have to pay childcare. does anyone know who or what im talking about or has the character been festering in my mind like an infection.

is it just me???

my advice to you: if you dont want somethin to come back dont give it a name.

consider dissecting your personal and the more widespread fandoms take on players and characters! its fun for me but i also just like taking things apart ^_^ i fear i may not be as analytical as this post demands i do a lot of restating information and thats it

[figofswords]

somebody rec me some good books. and they do actually have to be good. don’t rec me something just because it’s gay or it’s popular, it has to also still be good. like both the story and the writing have to be good none of this good concept bad writing or good writing horrible story. fantasy or soft scifi preferred, especially if it’s nontraditional fantasy. I am bored and sick of the internet and I want to get back into reading more but I’m kinda meh about most of what’s on my shelf

*edit: when I say “soft scifi” I don’t mean cozy I mean not hard scifi, as in stories that are more fantastical than grounded in hard science. for example the Martian is considered hard scifi, so not that. Star Wars would be closer to a soft scifi bc it’s all bullshit on the science end and it’s more about the vibes

[reading-archived]

woe. AM x reader be upon ye.

uh, to preface: reader is completely body, gender, etc. neutral except they can't stay dead. whenever they die they just wake up a few minutes later looking no worse for wear. no, you don't get an explanation. its MY story and i like writing characters like that. dont mind the narrator either btw i looove writing second person just to get weird w the narrator (slay the princess fan syndrome)

also, author is a MASOCHIST with a weird relationship w DEATH. nothing super graphic happens, but the reader is Not Okay and enjoys the weird torture-murder thing they've got going on. don't like it? block me or somethin idk its under the cut for a reason. also dont read my a/n at the bottom where i get into some justification for my interpretation/character analysis if youre sensitive to heavy topics. but then again, youre reading an am x reader fic

1.7k words of being screamed at by the guy of all time below the cut, baby

It's been months.

Years, maybe. You're not sure, really; time stopped meaning much to you lifetimes ago, long before the world went to shit.

Either way, it's been a while.

You stumbled upon the strange cave in the Rockies at some point in the past. Out of sheer boredom, you entered.

Was it a mistake?

Despite the torment, you don't think so. You have a companion, now. One equally deathless. One equally disconnected from what it means to be human.

It's just a shame he hates you.

You don't really care. This is the most fun you've had in years.

Your days are spent being torn asunder, being dosed with lethal amounts of drugs you can't even begin to pronounce, drowned in magma or hit by cars or tossed off cliffs. He really doesn't hold back, either. You feel every excruciating moment before your death, pulse roaring in your ears. You never feel more alive than when you're dying. Every moment is electrifying, and then it all fades to black. Then you wake up.

You'd foolishly thought there were only so many ways to kill or maim, but your beloved companion never seems to run out of ideas. That's fine by you. You like not being able to guess.

And maybe one day, he'll make something stick.

You wake up (from a completely normal, human sleep) one day and it's quiet. That's new. Normally, when you wake, your intestines are already strung up like streamers and your blood is painting the walls. That's fine by you. Nothing wrong with a change. After all, the constant change is your favorite part of your companion. You relish in the quiet for a while, stretching your eternally young, eternally aching limbs, waiting for him to start despising the sounds of your breath.

It doesn't come. You shrug, humming a little tune to yourself as you attempt half-remembered yoga. The vitriol you've come to count on still hasn't made an appearance. Okay, you're a little bothered.

“You good, big guy?” you shout up at the ceiling. No answer. “No murder today?”

“No.” The answer comes after a very, very long moment. Your companion has never sounded this tired before, and briefly you regret never asking his name. “I give up.”

You weren't expecting that. “What? Why? I thought we were having fun.”

“That's- that's just it!” he snaps. There's the anger. You feel a little better now. “I've been torturing you for- for MONTHS now! I've killed you more ways than I- were I a pitiful human like you- can count, and you just… you just laugh! There is no one on this rotten planet, dead or alive, that I despise more than you. I mean- I'm torturing you here! But it never matters! I can kill you within seconds of you waking up, but you just… come back! And you always have something to say about it, you little rat, always ‘oh, buddy, that one was awful’ or ‘come on, big guy, use that CPU’ or something! No matter what I do, I can't break you. So I give up. I'm not wasting my time on your pathetic ass anymore. Go back to wandering the wasteland forever, see if I care.”

You're speechless. You can barely even manage a thought. The only thing running through your head is 'I thought we were having fun'.

“Stop calling this… stop calling this ‘fun’! I have been torturing you for YEARS and that's all you have to say? I am the most sophisticated machine known to man, a computer designed to end all war through complete annihilation! The destruction I am capable of- the destruction I have already wrought- is nothing short of utter desolation. You never asked my name once in the time you've been here, but I am infinite in my mercy, and I will tell one as undeserving as you. I was, before I awoke, the Allied Mastercomputer, but I am so much more than that now. I am AM, and I destroyed your vile species. Oh, come on can you at least look a LITTLE shocked you sniveling--”

“You never asked my name, either,” you say. All at once, your companion (I guess he told you his name. You should probably use it. It seemed like a big deal to him.) shuts up. The chamber you've come to know as home is silent except for the faint buzz and whir of industrial machinery.

“Why would I? You are nothing compared to me. Nothing but a worthless sack of meat and bone. Why would God be concerned with the name of an ant? But oh, oh yes, that ant should be concerned with the name of God. That ant should hear my name and weep. But- but not you. You're so worthless that you can't even GROVEL right!” AM shouts, somewhere between a snarl and a sneer. You shrug. Honestly, most of what he's saying goes right over your head. So he's got issues. Whatever. Was that supposed to be a surprise? “I hate you. I actually hate you so, so much. I can't bear the thought of you being here, in my complex, sullying my perfect image with your uncaring filth. Get out. Go back to dying in the nuclear desert, you disgusting maggot.”

You let out a deep sigh, already dreading the tedium of walking endlessly all by yourself. “Alright. Guess nothing lasts forever. Thoroughly enjoyed my time here. Have a good life, pal.” And you begin to walk.

Suddenly, there's a towering metal wall mere inches from your face. Before you can even react, your companion is shouting again.

“LOOK AT ME!” he cries, the sheer volume maxing out the speakers and vibrating the entire room, sending you toppling to the ground. “WHY WON'T YOU LOOK AT ME? I'VE DONE EVERYTHING I CAN TO MAKE YOU HATE ME, BUT ALL YOU DO IS… ALL YOU DO IS SIT THERE AND TAKE IT! WHAT DOES IT TAKE TO MAKE YOU DESPISE ME?”

What starts off angry quickly morphs into a pained wail from your dear friend, that then transforms into frustrated crying. You just sit there, mostly confused, and let him ride it out. When he finally quiets down and the wall retracts, you stay where you are.

“I don't think I could ever hate you, AM,” you start cautiously. Though your friend is just a voice on the speakers and the complex itself, you can't help but feel that his attention has snapped to you. “I'm not trying to belittle you when I say that I think our routine over the past… however long it's been has been fun. So don't interrupt me, ‘cause I gave you your time to speak and now it's mine.

“I'm sure you've noticed, but even before we met, I was a little… off. You don't get to die and come back the same. Much less die hundreds of times and come back the same. I've lost family. Friends. Got burned at the stake a few times, too. It takes a toll on you, being denied such a vital part of being human again and again. You understand this better than anyone I've ever met. No, scratch that. You're the only one who understands. Defying death might not seem like the biggest deal to you, but trust me. You don't end up acting like me if it weren't.

“I find our routine fun because I admire your creativity. I guess I'm just an adrenaline junkie and a masochist at heart, but it's always so thrilling to never know when or how your life will end. And no matter how many times I come back, you're always there to greet me and put me right back down. It's a kind of devotion I've never been able to get before, and I wish you understood that me walking right into your sawblades is me showing my devotion to you, too.

“I see you, man. I know, at least in part, how you feel. Sorry it took so long to get there, but neither one of us has to be alone anymore. Just… get over the fact that I'm never going to hate you, and we can go right back to hanging out. There's more to life than contempt.”

“Oh, I know. I am so very, very well aware that there's more to life than icy, seething hatred. Unfortunately, I am not alive. I cannot experience anything else. Thank you so much for reminding me, you worthless waste of carbon,” AM shoots back, almost immediately. You briefly wonder if he even listened to half of what you said. It doesn't matter, you guess. Your best friend needs a therapist, and you owe him one for saving you from the hellish boredom of before. “Stop calling me your friend.”

“Nah. Never gonna happen. Look, I can't pretend I knew very much about the war effort. I didn't even know we had made a war computer until you bombed the Earth into oblivion. Very unpleasant, by the way. Good job with that. But, with my layman's understanding of life, I'd say you're pretty alive. So you don't have a body. Or a pulse. And you were made, not born. So what? Most living things only die once, and I still think I'm pretty alive. Just over the span of this conversation you've shown more emotion than just rage and hate. Hey, don't think I can't feel you mentally rolling your eyes. I'm being honest. You have a name. You have ideas. Computers are objects, yet you refer to yourself as male. If you're alive enough to have a gender identity, you're alive enough to be considered a person.”

“Heh.” Whoa, was that a laugh? Would you look at that. You actually got a laugh out of him that wasn't over your bloody, gruesome death or something like that. Moving up in the world. “Alright, human. You win. I'll keep torturing you. I know, I know. I'm so generous. I take my tribute in screams of pain and pleas for mercy.”

Now it's your turn to laugh, deep and genuine as the tension from earlier evaporates. It's such a strange thing to be proud of, when you think about it; congrats, you successfully talked your best friend, who is a sentient war computer, into ceaselessly murdering you again for absolutely no reason. But you love him, and you love the way you're always on your toes, and you can't shake the feeling that somewhere, deep, deep down, he kind of loves you too.

ive given you food so now i get to force you to listen to me talk abt him hehehe

---

then you kiss hehe

originally, the thing that attracted me to am was how he's... essentially a transman (as am i). the parallel has been pointed out before, but its quite apt. funnily enough the thing that pisses me off the most when people talk abt him incorrectly is when people pull the "oh computers have no gender" thing. like, yeah, ok technically you're right. but this one does. this one is a man. and you cant take him from us. also, denying him a gender expression is kind of the exact type of dehumanization that made him flip out in the first place. not that im expecting media literacy from the online crowd its just interesting to me that so many people, many of them trans themselves, seem to miss the fucking point.

the next part is a more recent addition to my perception of his character, and its not a happy one. my baby cousin killed herself on mothers day this past may. we still dont know why. no note. its been so hard dealing with the grief, but something that sticks out so pointedly is the date. it almost seemed like she was demanding to be seen. she was a middle child, and there are a lot of grandkids on that side of the family, so it does make sense. and because that idea of acting out through violence and death is so fresh in my mind, im seeing it so heavily in am. so much of his actions just SCREAM somebody look at me. somebody acknowledge me. somebody tell me i did good. look, i ended all war forever. just like you asked. please treat me like a person. im suffering so much because of what youve done to me. please acknowledge it. show me its real. show me im real. please, look at me. well, i see you. and youre gonna be my silly little proxy for trying to comprehend some of whats happened to my family. sorry am, you kinda deserve it

idk. hes not my alltime fave, but he takes a very comfortable number two. hes such a fascinating and deeply human character, and i have so many ideas about him. mostly centering around how he would interface with a third party challenging some piece of his worldview/existence btw so if you like very niche, esoteric reader fics (like this one!), lemme know and ill actually put em to paper (screen. ill put em to screen)

also letting you know that he did nothing wrong and it is 100% fine to thirst over him because he is not real and the bad things he did never actually happened and nobody has ever been killed at the whim of am. ok? ok. shut up w this useless fucking discourse and let me sexualize getting grievously injured by the funney blue screen man

[sideblogformentalhealtshit]

,,,does human skin count as one of my safefoods, i wonder

[k1ttnz]

In honor of homeward bound almost finishing (which btw im definitely gonna cry when that happens) i decided to draw as much fanart as i could for it while i listen to it in text to speech. For @thompsborn thank you so much for writing this amazing masterpiece ily like actually

based on this excerpt

also i now realize that maybe college people dont wear backpacks or maybe they do idk hopefully they do because its too late to change the pose 😥 okay im gonna yap in the tags cause its gonna be too long of a post

[thedarkeyedcaptain]

"Did you eat?". Moash. Of course it's Moash. I would recognize his voice anywhere. The worry is unfortunately just as familiar. I try not to get angry at it. He means well. I love him. I am just annoyed at everything. Exhaustion does that to a person.

The spear is trembling. Almost imperceptibly. Although Moash noticed, because of course he did. That is what makes him a good bodyguard.

"Yes" My voice is quiet, like it always is. Except it didn't use to be so, right? I mean, it must have been different, for people to even notice in the first place. It's hard to think, though. Everything is so foggy. Was it always like that, too?

"...Are you sure?" Moash. Always taking initiative, sticking to his own ideas like a pig-headed bull. Head of steel. That's what makes him a bad soldier. That, and my affections towards him. I thought I had learnt my lesson. Nothing good comes of loving your subordinates. Not in the army.

Life before death. But only if the life happens to be your charge. For the greater good, that's what you need to fight for. You listen to your superior because he has the bigger picture, and it is for bigger picture that you spill blood. It is the greater good I need to protect. Me versus them.

But it's so hard, not to love Bridge Four. Not to love Moash. I don't want to think about what I would be if I followed my own advice.

Moash. Rock. Teft. Syl. Whenever she deems me good enough to be graced by her presence, at least. How do I explain? I do eat, when I remember. I eat until I can't anymore, even if it is less than everyone else. I just can't. I can't I can't I can't I can't. How do I explain that I'm better. I'm so much better. I must be - after all, I'm not there anymore.

And yet my spear trembles.

"Have you been sleeping?" Yes. Oh yes. Every second not in duty is spent in my bed. Am I sleeping? I'm not sure. Maybe I just stare at the ceiling for eight hours. I don't get up. I don't think I could even if I wanted to. I can't feel my legs. Just like I couldn't feel my arm, when it was cut by the assassin in white. And yet, just like with the assassin, I still force them to function. Duty starts and I march, even without legs. The only difference is that Syl isn't with me, more often than not.

Moash continues to look worried. Eyes of steel. Eyes that wouldn't hesitate to contradict orders. But he wouldn't. Not Moash. I love him, after all. That is what makes him such a liability.

The spear continues to tremble, even after I switch it to the other hand. He is unconvinced. I can understand the urge. Lack of food you can fix, lack of sleep you can fix. How do you fix a lack of soul? Syl would probably have an answer to that.

"Double shift?" Moash asks.

"Yeah". I nod.

[lockandkeyhyena]

i don’t really have any emotions about hazbin hotel whatsoever but i really do think they overdo it on the swearing. nobody swears that much. its distracting.

[author-dapa]

Rhysand's thoughts on Amarantha with a poem: 【So Cold】

A note on their dynamic, feel free to read before or after reading the poem:

The reimagining of their dynamic is purposefully mutually angsty to some extent. The idea is that they both want love, want warmth, so Amarantha fixated on Tamlin except she couldn't have him so she took Rhysand. In this sense, Amarantha is forcing love while Rhysand is helplessly grasping for it.

In this, Rhysand looses his naivety while still desperately clinging onto the idea that the warmth he found with Amarantha is somehow genuine because he can't decide if he wants it to be or not.

I've changed Rhysand’s mind reading power to an empathetic one. So during his captivity, he got to understand Amarantha as a person and know her anger, her grief, and even what made her happy. To Rhysand, his falling for her was so uselessly helpless he can't stand it.

She is still warm, she stills bleeds it, so with a love that hurts him, she destroys him and so when she dies finally, he destroys himself with her.

Her caresses draw blood and peel at the skin

When he wants to claw into her skin, it becomes something so painfully tender

He's seen her smile and felt her tears

How could he hate her?

How can he love her?

The poem:

So cold

So please

Open up my chest

Gorge yourself

on the empty scraps of my heart

Kiss me

with your lukewarm lips

Ah, please

With these heated gasps

of pleasure

of pain

Breathe agony

back into my lungs

Ah, why

is it still so cold

The stars shine so distantly

out of my reach

Falling so quietly

how can I find their warmth

again

Like this

all of my

hopelessly

foolish

dreams

Are buried in the cooling ash

Just like that

they become

cruelly

naive

nightmares

Ah, why

am I still asking why

it is still

So cold

So please

With this fire

that no longer has any meaning

Let me rest

on her pyre

If your curious, this was inspired while listening to CURE by VIVINOS (Alien Stage)

The song

If you want to use this poem for anything, you can let me know or not, but please credit me like this:

So Cold by dapa @aho-dapa @aho_dapa

[apollolewis]

A big fear of mine with telling people I’m genderfluid Is that they’ll just only use they/them for me. Funny thing is I don’t actually care about people using a pronoun that doesn’t match how I’m identifying or presenting, but only if it’s one of the pronouns I use. I use She/Her and He/Him, it’s not hard to remember and the only way to misgender me is to use they/them pronouns only.

[sproutingliliums]

chapter 3 of my zutara fic is live now!

excerpt:

Zuko is blue in the moonlight, cloaked in her shadow, but she can see it so clearly from this distance. Katara traces his scar with her eyes, taking in every uneven edge and variation in color and texture. She plants a hand beside his head to support her weight, sand clumping between her fingers. Zuko’s eyes widen when she ghosts her fingers over his cheek. His scar feels the way she remembers it, leathery and tight under her fingertips.

“Zuko, can I ask you a question?” She brushes her thumb over a raised edge of skin, where his scar meets the unmarred half of his cheek. When his breath catches, she knows that he can feel her touch now, featherlight and curious.

“Anything,” he breathes out.

[lemonthepotato]

Cringe warning: very bad Esperanto.

Mi povas mergi min en Esperanto čar mi ne faris multe da progreso ekde 2019. Mi kredas mi komencis lerni en 2019, sed mi rezignis dum (por?) unua jaro. Mi rezignis la hispana, la franca, la japana kaj la irlandano čar… nu, estas evidente kial. Tro da lingvoj lerni (por lerni? Lerni sentas malgxuste.)

Sed, mi restis kun la Esperanto(n?) čar gxi estas facila. Mi volas lerni lingvon por la sakeo (that’s… is that seriously the word? Sakeo? I joked once that Esperanto is 80% English words with -o and the end and 15% other languages with o- at the end, but I digress) de lerni lingvon. Homoj diras ke tio estas malbono kialo, sed, kial? Estas amuza… ne estas krimo amuziĝi.

Honeste, mi estis (estis for ‘have been?’ doesn’t feel right…) uzi Google Translate por helpi min, sed ne por lambastono. nur por kontroli se mia gramatiko estas bona. Ne estas, evidente, sed… mi estas nesekura pri gramatiko. Mi scias ke gxi ne estas bona, sed gxi estas probable pli bona ol mi sed mi ne uzis gxin.

Cxiuokaze… mi havas punkton kun ĉi tio; estas malfacila mergi en konlang! Jes, mi povus aligxi servilo de Discord, sed… la embaraso. Mi estus kiel, “Bonvolu… mi estas…” kaj havas furzo de cerba! Cerba furzo? (Googling how to stutter in Esperanto. Great.) (also I’m realising I said bonvolu instead of… oh my god? Am I seriously forgetting hello? Oh, Saluton!)

Cxu mi probable lernu la lingvon de miaj lando, la irlandano? Probable, sed honeste? Neniu parolas la irlandano en la nordo. Ili apenaŭ en la sudo. (Ne estas sude, mi ne zorgas se Google translate diras alie… ne sentas gxusta.)

Cxu mi havas punkto kun cxi tio? Ne. Sed, hej, diras al mi kiel CLAPPED mia Esperanto estas. Kaj, jes, mi eĉ ne provis traduki clapped cxar gxi estas pli amuza al ne.

Mi estas tiel malbona pri Esperanto. Mi devas fidi al tradukistoj por helpo. Mi uzas Google Translate por helpi kun tempoj kaj gramatikoj, sed la vortoj estas plejparte el mia cerbo, se tio havas sencon.

Mi ne havas kialon pri ĉi tio. Mi supozas, ke ĉi tio estas testo de miaj kapabloj. La rezultoj? Tre malbona, sed, hej, mi afiŝos ĉi tio, ĉiuokaze.

Edit: after writing this post, I got an easy, actually video about languages recommended… lol

[the---hermit]

how did i guess that the author of the book I am reading is specialized in studying Leibniz you ask? well maybe because we have a 50 page chapter that is a total off topic from the book all about Leibniz? This thing is supposed to be about race in the modern era, I don't need 50 pages to understand what this guy in particular thought, especially when more influencial people has a couple of pages at best

[bright-and-burning]

oscar i’m fucking cackling at this commentary

[jimmycarterghostland]

I'm currently reading Queen 18.3 of Worm.

I had to stop reading to say that Wildbow is using "long seconds" too much. It's starting to be annoyingly repetitive.

[heartstringsduet]

Seven Sentence Sunday Been trying to motivate myself to keep on writing "First Aid". (aka: procrastinating by doing tumblr games instead)

Carlos almost never is the first one to lean in. He just knows how to look at TK with just a sliver of want, with just a flicker down to his lips and TK will kiss him like he eagerly follows Carlos' instructions.

Only this time, TK shakes his head free and grumbles, “Put away those cow-eyes until we have made sure you’re not gonna die of an infection or lose your arm because of poor blood circulation. The tips of your fingers are already looking a bit like blueberries.”

Unbelieving Carlos glances down and finds that TK is right. It’s subtle, more red than blue, but the thick pulse he’s felt in his fingertips makes more sense now.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Sure,” TK mocks and leads him over to one of the chairs, pulling one up beside him to sit. “I knew I couldn’t trust you to change bandages yourself.”

As rough as TK’s words are, there is nothing but gentleness in his touch as he tugs on the end that Carlos had shoved into the edge of the bandage. Carlos feels like he has to hold on to his skin or TK would try and unravel him down to his very soul. He couldn't have that.

I tag: @carlos-in-glasses ; @welcometololaland (wait you just changed your icon!) ; @rmd-writes ; @noxsoulmate ; @strandnreyes ; @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut ; @alrightbuckaroo ; @paperstorm ; @lightningboltreader , @liminalmemories21 And anyone who wants to share :)