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daydreamlng · 6 months

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petitfarron · 10 months

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Tagged by @foxlin-fantasia to do this, thanks for that! Sorry it took forever. (And I think I did it wrong but whatever it's too late to go back now!)

Have more rabbit in his old stage before I, more or less, settled on his look.

🌱 Animal: The obvious and only choice is a rabbit...

🌱 Colour: Earthy greens and browns are his favorite colours to wear but, honestly, who can go wrong with black too? As for a favorite colour in general? Probably a bright yellow like the sun. It makes him feel happy to look at!

🌱 Song: Something happy and folk-y because I said so.

🌱 Number: Honestly, he isn't much of a numbers man. And it's not like he deals with his own finances well or... at all, let's be real. The number 8 is pretty fun to look at, though. It's two little circles! Yeah... he really doesn't care at all, sorry.

🌱 Day or Night: Both are beautiful in their own ways but if he had to pick? The day time. Only because being born on the First with perpetual, blinding light had his eyes adjust to it. Now if he ever finds himself in the dark, he can barely see at all. There are times Dusk has to guide him up and down the stairs if it's too dark at home, even. But nighttime has the moon and stars and he's still very infatuated with those...

🌱 Plant: I don't know if this is supposed to be his favorite or a type I think represents him so why not both! A flower to represent Farron would 100% be a sunflower. They live for a long time and they're vibrant and full of life! Just like this dumb viis man. As for his favorite flower... a gloxinia. It's the first flower he gave to Dusk! He thought he wouldn't know what it meant but jokes on him.

🌱 Smell: Hm, I've not really thought about this before but, as a big cook, I have to assume Farron probably always smells a little like whatever he's made throughout the day. Also probably a touch flowery since that's his main hobby and he's always handling some kind of plant. If he hasn't done either of those things in a day he would smell like the bath scents he has a home, either minty, like pine or a citrus scent. He has a bath everyday. Always. They're his favorite thing!

🌱 Gemstone: Citrine because it is the happy stone, so of course.

🌱 Season: The summer is always going to be his favorite. Or whenever is warmest, really. Although he does think snow is beautiful and... he lives in Ishgard now... blame Dusk for that. In that case his favorite season is "wherever the nearest fireplace is, please."

🌱 Place: There are so many places that Farron loves but if he had to pick one he would have to pick Il Mheg as a whole. He loved playing games with the pixies, absolutely adored the amaro (especially the babies) and the nu mou! Not to mention all of the breathtaking scenery. It's so vibrant and lively, he really had the best time whenever he got to go there.

🌱 Food: Giant popoto pancakes! They're fluffy and sweet and you can pile fruit on top of them and how can someone not love them? Farron and Dusk even started having a weekly pancake day once they started living together.

🌱 Eorzean Deity: Having come from the First, Farron didn't really pay attention to Eorzea's gods. But if he had to pick one to identify with the best it would be Nophica. The botany lady? It's an obvious pick.

🌱 Eorzean Element: Wind, I suppose? It gives off a sense of freedom as it can't ever really be restricted and Farron feels the same now that he's away from the shackles of his life on the First.

🌱 Drink: Always coffee. It doesn't matter what kind, he's guaranteed to love it. But he's also big on alcohol, just not in a "one type is my favorite" kind of way. Whatever makes his brain stop thinking, no matter the taste, is always a favorite. Although that was the old him and he's better now... probably.

#ffxiv wol #i forgot to tag like a dummy #viera #happy little plant boy

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pugzman3 · 4 months

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Psalms chapter 74

1 (Maschil of Asaph.) O God, why hast thou cast us off for ever? why doth thine anger smoke against the sheep of thy pasture?

2 Remember thy congregation, which thou hast purchased of old; the rod of thine inheritance, which thou hast redeemed; this mount Zion, wherein thou hast dwelt.

3 Lift up thy feet unto the perpetual desolations; even all that the enemy hath done wickedly in the sanctuary.

4 Thine enemies roar in the midst of thy congregations; they set up their ensigns for signs.

5 A man was famous according as he had lifted up axes upon the thick trees.

6 But now they break down the carved work thereof at once with axes and hammers.

7 They have cast fire into thy sanctuary, they have defiled by casting down the dwelling place of thy name to the ground.

8 They said in their hearts, Let us destroy them together: they have burned up all the synagogues of God in the land.

9 We see not our signs: there is no more any prophet: neither is there among us any that knoweth how long.

10 O God, how long shall the adversary reproach? shall the enemy blaspheme thy name for ever?

11 Why withdrawest thou thy hand, even thy right hand? pluck it out of thy bosom.

12 For God is my King of old, working salvation in the midst of the earth.

13 Thou didst divide the sea by thy strength: thou brakest the heads of the dragons in the waters.

14 Thou brakest the heads of leviathan in pieces, and gavest him to be meat to the people inhabiting the wilderness.

15 Thou didst cleave the fountain and the flood: thou driedst up mighty rivers.

16 The day is thine, the night also is thine: thou hast prepared the light and the sun.

17 Thou hast set all the borders of the earth: thou hast made summer and winter.

18 Remember this, that the enemy hath reproached, O LORD, and that the foolish people have blasphemed thy name.

19 O deliver not the soul of thy turtledove unto the multitude of the wicked: forget not the congregation of thy poor for ever.

20 Have respect unto the covenant: for the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty.

21 O let not the oppressed return ashamed: let the poor and needy praise thy name.

22 Arise, O God, plead thine own cause: remember how the foolish man reproacheth thee daily.

23 Forget not the voice of thine enemies: the tumult of those that rise up against thee increaseth continually.

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reevezs · 3 months

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💖 from summer

Less Spicy Shipping Meme

How likely they are to enter a relationship with them:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Would they…

Make the first move? Yes | No

Say “I love you” first? Yes | No

Cheat on them? Yes | No

Be the jealous type? Yes | No

Plan the dates? Yes | No

Initiate the first kiss? Yes | No

Remember anniversaries? Yes (for once, he would because dates are so important to her) | No

BOLD WHAT APPLIES:

Their Relationship Is:

PUBLIC Displays of Affection:

PRIVATE Displays of Affection:

Do they stay together?

BONUS

What terrible pet names would they give each other?

She still calls him an asshole(affectionate™), but he's her asshole(affectionate™) now. Or a unicorn and people think it's because of his hair. It's not.

This geek picks some witch from a tv show or something and starts calling Summer that. I'm guessing "Sabrina". Once their relationship gets more serious, he starts calling her Sanderson.

#zach&summer tag #answered asks:memes #meme:ship meme #//8 in case they kill each other before they get together lol

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positivelybeastly · 4 months

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💖 Scott Summers

How likely they are to enter a relationship with them:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

(So, this is one of those things where you'd need to move stuff around to make it work, I feel - Hank's normal relationship with Scott plays off as brothers, and you'd need to maybe shake up the initial O5 group to make it work? Maybe take Jean out of the equation, honestly. Hank and Jean are naturally empathetic and kind, so if Jean isn't around, I could see Hank being the one to drag Scottie out of his shell and that turning into a romantic bond.)

Would they…

Make the first move? Yes | No (I feel like they'd both be in a state of, hmmmm, BUT WHAT IF I MESS IT ALL UP, for the longest time, but while Hank would allow that to paralyse him, Scott is, in the end, a master strategist and very brave, and would come up with a plan to make it all land. The plan would be cringe, but Hank would be charmed and tickled.)

Say “I love you” first? Yes | No (Yeah, this is a Hank W, honestly. I could see this happening after he's left the X-Men and turned blue and furry - maybe a change of the Griffin fight in Amazing Adventures so Scott finds Hank instead, and Hank just lets it slip out when Scottie saves him. Scott is appropriately baffled.)

Cheat on them? Yes | No (Scott is canonically the adulterer. Too soon? :P Honestly, though? If that happened in this universe? Hank would be fucking heartbroken. He would be devastated. He would be so betrayed.)

Be the jealous type? Yes | No (Hank trusts Scott with his life. He's gonna trust him not to cheat. TOO BAD THAT'S A BAD THING TO TRUST GIVEN THE ABOVE ANSWER.)

Plan the dates? Yes | No (A rare Hank L! Scott is obsessed with plans. Every date is a battleplan and Hank has to fight to make it. You know. Fun.)

Initiate the first kiss? Yes | No (I feel like Hank does this to stop Scott from going into an emotional meltdown. "Your Cyclops.exe has stopped working, please smooch to restart.")

Remember anniversaries? Yes | No (I feel like Scott only commemorates the most important anniversaries, but he treats them with reverence. Hank marks them all, but even he's a little shocked by how seriously Scottie takes those one or two specific dates.)

BOLD WHAT APPLIES:

Their Relationship Is:

(Look, I'm not saying I want the Dark Phoenix Saga where Hank gets possessed by the Phoenix, BUT. It would be neat.)

PUBLIC Displays of Affection:

(I feel as though Scott isn't big on PDA? Hank wouldn't want to push and make him uncomfortable.)

PRIVATE Displays of Affection:

Do they stay together?

(Look, I'm not saying that there was something kinda gay about the way Hank left the X-Men during the Utopia era, but Scott held out his hand and bit his lip in kind of a gay way, so. You know.)

BONUS

What terrible pet names would they give each other?

Hank calls Scott fearless leader in bed. Unfortunately for Scott, Hank never gets tired of this gag.

#Anonymous #less spicy shipping meme #outofmuffins

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failedintsave · 2 years

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Kloktober Day 8: Childhood or Getting Old

I love some kidklok but it's all so traumatic (and I'm saving up for some other prompts jsdjgsjdk) so I went with Old Folks Skwistok 👴👴

Will You Still Need Me, Will You Still Feed Me

Although he knew the route by heart after so many weekly trips, Toki squinted at the amber letters of the scrolling LED display at the head of the bus, just to be certain he hadn't lost track of the journey. Patting his breast pocket and finding it empty, he located his glasses perched atop his head in the usual place and slid them down to his nose to confirm their location.

"Dis ams our stop," he said, nudging the dozing figure next to him.

Toki got to his feet as the bus pulled to the curb, feeling more than hearing the screech of brakes as the vehicle ground to a halt. A wise CFO had once (twice, a thousand times over) advised them all to wear earplugs during their sets, and the irony of those warnings falling on deaf ears did not escape Toki now. Soon enough, he would have to follow Pickles' example and get fitted for hearing aids. Out of all the patents that had expired after Dethklok's reign, Liquid Purity sound technology had yielded the most versatile applications. Toki wondered if Charles would be pleased to see it put to good use, or if he was rolling in his grave over the market ventures they'd left untapped.

Humidity fogged the lenses of his readers as he stepped off the bus and onto the sidewalk, waiting patiently at the door for his fellow passenger to debark. Heat mirages shimmered across the blacktop of the Finntrolls parking lot, the sun a blazing disk in a cloudless sky the color of window cleaner. The late September warmth had not deterred Skwisgaar from donning a cardigan before they left the house, though he scowled into the bright afternoon light as he rounded the steps. Perpetually cold, even in his prime, it had been years since he'd let goading commentary about outerwear sway his wardrobe choices.

"T'oughts fall started last weeks, dis look more like summer vacation weathers to me." The thump of the tennis ball covering the end of his cane undercut some of the scorn in his voice, the same way it softened the overelaborate dragon motif for which he'd chosen the rod.

"You knows we never gets a real fall in L.A., elskling." Skwisgaar accepted Toki's outstretched hand, allowing his junior to assist him down the last steps and towards a nearby bench. Hot air gusted past as the bus pulled away from the curb, the stench of exhaust roiling in its wake. "Or you shoulds know dat, after almost thirty years."

"Ja, ja, still terribles any ways you slice it t'ough. I hates it."

"Ams somebody crabby today? Was you nap on de way here not longs enough? I woulda packed de insulated bags if I'd known we needed to rides to de store across town instead. I don't think your sherbet would makes it all de way home wifout dem." Toki laughed when Skwisgaar swatted his helping hands away, settling onto the shaded bench and pointedly looking the other direction. He set their canvas grocery sacks on the seat next to the Swede, leaning to plant a kiss on the part of his hair. "Be right back, don't runs off."

"So glad I ams married to de comedians…"

The automatic door of the food library slid aside with a hiss, unleashing a gust of chilled air that obscured Toki's glasses again and leaving him to fumble past the shopping carts until he found the reason for his solo sojourn. Toki plopped onto the cushioned seat, driving the scooter into the parking lot.

"Hey dere, sexy," he called, lifting his thumb off the accelerator and coming to a stop at the edge of the sidewalk. "You wants to come party wifs a rockstar?"

Skwisgaar watched his approach, unamused, with both hands stacked on top of the handle of his cane. Determined as he was to always do everything himself, he still disliked using the motorized cart. Really, he disliked anything that forced him to acknowledge the changes that age had inflicted upon them all—though Nathan's dentures were to be expected after decades of avoiding the dentist, and no one was entirely sure if Murderface's memory issues were real or if he was just being a dick.

Given his way, Skwisgaar would have hobbled painfully up and down each aisle under his own power, but arthritis had other plans.

His slouch was more pronounced now, his fingers curled and knuckles rosy with inflammation, yet he still held his nose in the air and sneered with all the lordly pretense of someone who had once ruled the world. For all the frowning he'd done in his life, he bore fewer wrinkles than one might expect, the most noticeable being the crow's feet that sprouted from the corners of his eyes as they narrowed in Toki's direction. Perhaps there had been something to all those expensive skin balms and salves after all.

"You goingk to be likes dis all day?" He groused, levering himself to his feet with some effort.

Toki stepped off the scooter and caught Skwisgaar's elbow as he listed to one side. "Til deaths do us part."

"Euughh, Odin, takes me."

Together, they crossed the last few feet to the cart and Skwisgaar lowered himself gingerly onto the seat. Toki placed Skwisgaar's cane into the wire basket within easy reach and dropped their bags in as well, taking a step back so Skwisgaar could get the vehicle turned around. Sunlight cast a shimmering halo on the crown of his head, his locks tied in a neat knot at the nape of his neck. He refused to part with the length despite the fact that what was once burnished gold now shone silvery platinum, and though Toki had long ago adopted a shorter crop for himself, he was glad Skwisgaar still wore his hair in long, soft waves. It suited him.

"You know, I think maybe I gets it why you always had de hots for all dems old ladies." Biting back a giggle when Skwisgaar cut eyes at him again, Toki fell into step beside the scooter as they made their way towards the front door. A pearly wisp of curl had come loose from its binding, and he reached out to tuck it behind Skwisgaar's ear, twirling the end around his finger. "You still lookin' mighty fines to Toki, even 'dough you ams all gray and wrinkledy now."

"Tch, you aments no springtime chicklings you'self, ya know. Dildo." Skwisgaar scoffed, ascending the slight ramp of asphalt that connected the sidewalk to the crosswalk.

Toki pushed his glasses back atop his head before being subjected to a third blast of blinding fog at the entrance, and when he dropped his arm, Skwisgaar's fingers closed around his wrist and pulled. The motion caught him mid-stride and he stumbled sideways, landing awkwardly, halfway on Skwisgaar's lap.

An arm wrapped around his waist, slimness belying strength as it held him close. "Hej, baby," Skwisgaar's voice in his ear was a playful growl. "You wants to go for a ride?"

Toki nodded in reply, grinning wide and swinging his feet onto the floorboard between Skwisgaar's loafers. The scooter's electric motor whirred as Skwisgaar depressed the forward lever, its wheels juddering over the threshold onto gleaming tile. Laughing as they zipped through the produce section, he swiped a package of blackberries from the display, hooting again when the scooter tipped onto two wheels momentarily. It might be far cry from screaming down the interstate on the murdercycle, wind whipping their hair, but it didn't matter. So long as they were together, the thrill remained.

#kloktober2022 #kloktober 2022 #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #skwistok #metalocalypse #me writing

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dynamoe · 2 years

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My friend gave me this two months ago so I could hear the commentaries but I only just am listening to them now

The Rosey Grier Needlepoint for Men insert is the best visual reference in the season and why I finally busted out this DVD (to take a screencap for a friend who brought it up in conversation)

even the interior pages in the reverse angle? too much!

What can I learn from these commentaries and how can I use this canonical information? Let's semi-live blog...

Season 7 redesigned Billy is so ugly. I hate it... but he looks OK in some shots because the animators can't keep him consistent looking.

I'm glad the commentary calls out the very Robert Ludlum-y title construction theme they had most of the season.

--

Billy calls himself a neurogeneticist in Curse of the Haunted Problem (S07E01) which he hasn't since Are You There God? (S01E09). Where's this neurogeneticisizing happening, huh? Off camera? When do you have the time? Billy, admit you're a part-time surgeon AT BEST.

In (S07E03) Arrears in Science, Jonashead also calls Billy a neurogeneticist while requesting Billy perform surgery. Which a surgeon does, not a geneticist.

Commentary: "White, perpetual victim" "He hides during violent scenes. He's always hiding behind things." There was a scene cut that would have explained his decline into a sweaty wifebeater axe-wielding state. Jackson calls Pete's outfit a "Milli Vanilli jacket." Pete doesn't do much of anything else for the rest of the season.

Despite being the focus of The Bellicose Proxy (S07E06), neither Billy nor White have very many lines in it.

The rooftop tennis court where St. Cloud rehearses with Monarch/21— I remember seeing it from NY classroom windows but according to Doc H's commentary, it's been demolished since the episode came out

That red paintball paint would permanently stain White's jacket. Missed opportunity that it wasn't stained through the rest of the episode but it sounds this episode was a nightmare to animate as is.

Billy is way too small inside the Delta Boy/Diet Pepsi space suit. He loses like a foot of height. Was it intentional? (His height & head size is all over the place in these episodes.)

Commentary: Somewhere, there's audio a very long riff of the two ad-libbing as White/Billy describing their imagined beat down of St. Cloud. And 30 minutes of Billy riffing inside the cloud of laughing gas which Doc argued would be a great episode, even with no animation on screen. (I agree, but I'm an outlier.)

Commentary: I hadn't picked up that Killer Drone was supposed to look like a '60s Japanese sentai hero/villain, according to Doc H. (Like that would fight Ultraman or Kamen Rider, I guess.) but I see it.

Commentary: Neither of them knew the name of the Grumman Moon Suit but "The one from Life Magazine," is a pretty accurate epithet.

They didn't know the name of the Avrocar either. (The real Moon Suit prototype was 8 feet tall! A big-ass Diet Pepsi!)

---

The Forecast Manufacturer (S07E09) has too much shitting information in it. (I don't need this kind of canon, guys.)

Coffee gives Billy diarrhea. Already used that "fun fact" in this chapter.

Billy went to summer camp (where he couldn't shit) at some point.

Billy needs to read to have a shit (don't want to know this.)

What does he have to do? Bleed for you? His rectum is probably bleeding right now. (ugh)

Rusty: "Do you shave your chest?" line strikes me as coming out of nowhere. Even though Billy has stripped off in loads of episodes, this is the first time he's kickin' it underpants-only-style in front of Rusty. (Nice soft-edged blush on Billy's face here. He's less ugly in-episode than on his model sheet for this episode.)

Commentary: Jackson mentions Billy painting the rest of his arm to look like a full robot. Doc describes Billy having a latex hand cover he doesn't wear because it makes his hand look too big and bloated (I wrote Billy testing a synthetic hand cover in future chapter, now have to rewrite it so it doesn't seem like a ripoff)

The Inamorata Consequence (S07E05)

"White, perpetual victim" "He hides during violent scenes. He's always hiding behind things."

Helper kicked Billy into the pool and Hank filmed it with his watch.

None of these other episodes have Billy or White so I've lost interest.

#vbros #the venture brothers #venture bros #season 7 #The forecast manufacturer #the bellicose proxy #moon suit #grumman moon suit #curse of the haunted problem #dvd commentary #doc hammer #jackson publick

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 1 year

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Music For the Soul

by Alexander MacLaren

The Gradual Extinction of God's Light in the Soul

Our lamps are going out. - Matthew 25:8

All spiritual emotions, and vitality, like every other kind of emotion and vitality, die unless nourished. Let no theological difficulties about "the final perseverance of the saints," or "the indefeasibleness of grace," and the impossibility of slaying the Divine life that has once been given to a man, come in the way of letting this parable have its full, solemn weight. These foolish virgins had oil and had light; the oil gave out by their fault, and so the light went out, and they were startled, when they awoke from their slumber, to see how, instead of brilliant flame, there was smoking wick.

Let us take the lesson. There is nothing in our religious emotions which has any guarantee of perpetuity in it, except upon certain conditions. We may live, and our life may ebb. We may trust, and our trust may tremble into unbelief. We may obey, and our obedience may be broken by the mutinous risings of self-will. We may walk in the paths of righteousness, and our feet may falter and turn aside. There is certainty of the dying out of all communicated life, unless the channel of communication with the life from which it was first kindled be kept constantly clear. The lamp may be "a burning and a shining light," or, more accurately translating the phrase of our Lord, "a light kindled and" (therefore) "shining," but it will only be light "for a season," unless it is fed from that from which it was first set alight - and that is, from God Himself

" Our lamps are going out." A slow process that! The flame does not all die into darkness in a minute. There are stages in the process. The white portion of the flame becomes smaller and the blue part extends; then the flame flickers, and finally shudders itself, as it were, off the wick; then nothing remains but a charred red line along the top; then that line breaks up into little points, and one after another these twinkle out, and then all is black, and the lamp is gone out. And so, slowly, like the ebbing away of the tide, like the reluctant long-protracted dying of summer days, like the dropping of the blood from some fatal wound, by degrees the process of extinction creeps, creeps, creeps on, and the lamp that was going is finally gone out.

The infinite mercy of God is not mere weak indulgence, which so deals with a man’s failures and sins as to convey the impression that these are of no moment whatsoever. And the severity which said, "No! such work is not fit for such hands until the heart has been ’ broken and healed,’ " is of a piece with the severity which is love. "Thou wast a God that forgavest them, and didst visit them for their inventions." Let us learn the difference between a weak charity which loves too foolishly, and therefore too selfishly, to let a man inherit the fruit of his doings, and the large mercy which knows how to take the bitterness out of the chastisement, and yet knows how to chastise.

#Music For the Soul #Alexander MacLaren #devotional #The Gradual Extinction of God's Light in the Soul #Matthew 25:8 #March 2 #2023

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tj-dragonblade · 1 year

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Tea and Books Asks

Tagged in by @littledreamling , @mathomhouse-e , and @quillingwords thank you!

1. What period of history do you enjoy learning about?

As long as it's not the fucking founding of America and drafting of the constitution, again, we're golden

2. Who is your favourite fictional character and why?

Of all time? Impossible. Current fandom specifically? ...uh. Kind of also impossible. But I think if pressed Hob might just barely edge out Dream in the standings. Because? Because...his vibes? Immortal Everyman who's not all woe-is-me this-life-is-misery is a delight and idk he's just got that je ne sais quoi that makes me smile and say 'That one, that's my favorite'?

3. What do you order at a café?

It's a rare occurrence but. Some sort of coffee, extra sweet, extra whichever flavor added. Caramel and pumpkin spice are both excellent

4. Libraries, botanical gardens, or art galleries?

Of the three, I've only ever been to libraries, so, that

5. Do you have a favourite film soundtrack?

Beauty and the Beast 1991 probably. The score tracks on that just. Do things to me. Fond of a lot of Hans Zimmer's work as well (Lion King, PotC off the top of my head) and I keep circling back around to the Robin Hood Prince of Thieves soundtrack every few years

6. What does your dream home look like?

Underwater. With bits above water too, maybe half and half, but the important things I've always wanted are submarine airlock entryways and enormous windows with an underwater view. Not too far from civilization either

7. What makes you feel better on gloomy days?

Long solo drives with good music played loud

8. What are your top three films? Books?

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home; The Princess Bride; Beauty and the Beast

I've read fanfic almost exclusively the past twenty years but, let me think...I was very taken with the Shannara series by Terry Brooks in high school; I spent some time on the Vampire Chronicles after that and The Vampire Armand was my favorite (because Armand was my favorite more than because it was actually a good book)

9. Are you an organized person, generally?

...Ish. I dislike clutter and mess, but I wouldn't really classify myself as 'organized' by any standard measure of the word

10. Do you have a favourite classic novel?

...I am extremely fond of Alice in Wonderland and Wizard of Oz both but more for their permutation into pop culture and malleability therein than for their actual books specifically

11. What character archetype or trope is your favourite?

I have a laundry list, and they're generally best when multiple tropes are blended in one character. But maybe...let's go with The Foreigner, The Outsider, the one who often holds up a lens to humanity or whatever majority/default group is involved to offer commentary, try to understand, and who is perpetually Apart from them, usually unable (or unwilling) to quite blend in or assimilate completely even when they may be welcomed and accepted.

12. Do you prefer baking or cooking?

...give me a relatively simple recipe with clear instructions and I'll probably be okay, in either arena

13. Which season do you feel at home in?

In my current climate? Summer. Summer means I can get out and go places and do things. I love autumn in theory but in practice it's far too short, far too cold too quickly, and just a very depressing reminder of the half-a-year of winter that will follow

14. What is your opinion on poetry?

It should absolutely exist, integral facet of humanity, etc. Not really anything I actively seek out, however

15. Do you speak formally when texting and emailing?

Emails are nearly always business related whether home or work, so yes. Texts are not exactly formal but it's rare that I'd ever fail to capitalize, use copious abbreviations, etc. Punctuation droppage depends entirely on who I'm talking to and whether I need the clarity punctuation can provide

16. How do you organize your music playlists?

Haaaaaah. Let me count the ways:

- by artist, when I want The Good Tracks from their discography (and related projects) in chronological order

- by genre

- by pairing - many pairs have multiple permutations of their playlist also

- by character

- by character group

- by theme (e.g. Moon, Aquatic, etc)

- by mood

- by fic inspiration/writing soundtrack

- I have playlists for Disney movies where I put the songs and score pieces back in movie order since the soundtracks always group them separately and I also leave out the shitty radio versions of the songs

- I also have a playlist with all my individual Disney playlists combined in chronological order by movie release date

- by vibes

- by which family member I'm driving with

- I have a playlist for stuff that's in (or contains sections that are in) 3/4, 6/8, and various other non-4/4 time signatures

- I have a couple different playlists of favorite voices

- there's a giant playlist where I dump all the stuff I've rated 4 or 5 stars (some 3s may also get included), sorted by play count, for when I don't know quite what I'm really in the mood to listen to

- aaaaaaand then I usually have two or three playlists in constant flux for whatever I'm really craving to listen to at this particular point in time

17. Who is your favourite author?

Can't say as I have one

18. Chai or hot chocolate?

Chai

19. Do you prefer forests, sea shores, or meadows?

Sea shore, hands down

20. If you were to cultivate a fruit orchard, what would you grow?

Everything I would name I have developed allergies to so. Maybe not. Kinda sucks.

#tag memes

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bestworstcase · 2 years

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Always been at an impasse between how Salem's actions are definitely her own rather than a result of the Grimmification given her girlbossing never directly correlates with it, and the question of if it doesn't the least bit tilt her into destructiveness, then what's it doing in there. Is her corruption only a metaphor for dehumanization and grief? Feels like one of those things that's gonna tie into what Grimm /actually/ are.

oh! fantasy metaphysics my beloved!!

every character in the know vis-a-vis salem's history is laser-focused on her submersion in the pool of grimm and consequent transformation into—as jinn put it—a being of infinite life with a desire for pure destruction. BUT, the god of light dunked her in his wellspring first, and while it didn't corrupt her outward appearance as the pool of grimm did, she was no less transformed by it. infinite life; ergo, pure creation.

i think she's got a perfectly ordinary human soul except for the part where there's so much of it that she can't die.

and where this gets really fun is: ozma has spent millennia building up the conviction that salem is the root of all destruction, and believes firmly that he needs to destroy her in order to redeem humanity. (the irony of this appears to be lost on him.) throughout the untold centuries he has devoted to his single-minded quest to Destroy the woman he perceives as Destruction Incarnate, he has corrupted every ideal he once had, sacrificed every one of the moral convictions that once guided him, and become a hollow, cynical, morally bankrupt shell of the man he used to be; and in the process he has also destroyed countless other lives by perpetuating an impossible and endless cycle of hatred and bloodshed without ever moving a single step closer to his goal.

and while rwbyjnor have avoided many of the mistakes that set ozma on the path to becoming ozpin, the lying, the blind terror of internal disagreements, so on—they've not yet begun to question the underlying mindset that led him to make those mistakes; they continue to perceive division, fear, hatred, and destruction as corruptions of human nature arising from salem's machinations, when the factual reality as established by the story's lore is that destruction is one of the four gifts that together comprise essential human nature—and destruction is not intrinsically evil.

destruction is, in fact, a valuable and vital facet of human existence; letting go of the past is an act of destruction, as is dismantling an unjust system or looking inwards to examine your own failures and learn from them. emotional growth cannot occur without the willingness to leave behind the parts of yourself that have caused harm to yourself or to others. every light casts a shadow and every act of creation is by necessity also an act of destruction.

i don't think it's a narrative coincidence that the summer maiden is the one associated with destruction in combination with the lesson she teaches in the fairytale being "don't view the world at a distance, take an active part in it and the events around you."

rwby constantly associates the fear of destruction with emotional and moral stagnation—and in v7-8 ironwood's stagnation and the relentless determination to maintain control that arose from that stagnation caused so much overwhelming harm that he literally supplanted salem as the story's primary structural antagonist. fending her off became the B PLOT! because ironwood, guardian of creation, through his obsession with creation made himself the larger threat.

so,

in my view, the most important aspect of salem's transformation in the pool of grimm is that she chose it. after quite possibly millions of years languishing in undying isolation in the mass grave of humanity while the pure and infinite essence of creation burned in her soul she tried to extinguish it by casting herself into darkness—and found balance instead of obliteration.

the god of light disdained her grief, her humanness, and he wanted to force her to understand the world just as he did—so he broke the balance in her soul by infusing her with infinite life, pure creation, leaving only the tiniest speck of his brother's influence; and salem still fought back with everything she had, took that cruelty and made it her weapon, turned all of his creation against him.

and when they killed everyone and left her to rot, she had no recourse left, no escape, nowhere to go, nothing to do except suffer without end and aimlessly wander the planet—until she threw herself into the pool of grimm, and it changed her, and humanity came back.

(whether there was a literal causal relationship between salem's transformation and the resurrection of humanity is a question that has been gnawing on my brain since i hit lost fable the first time. this:

is one hell of a symbol, and humankind is the combined essence of the brother gods. salem had the pure essence of light's power in her soul when she jumped into the pool of grimm and...bonded with it; it's not implausible to think that she might have inadvertently repeated the process by which the brothers made humans in the first place and thus made the revival possible.)

and while she obviously Does Not have a great time after humanity comes back—miserable rotting hovel in the woods because she looks like a grimm and everybody is terrified of her and all—the instant ozma returns to her, she leaps not to destruction but to CREATION. to "let's use our power to guide people, help them, let's build a new and better world than the one the gods destroyed." and all downward spirals into their tyrannical crusade aside, they did that. their kingdom prospered and they had to all appearances four completely ordinary human children and it's really not salem's fault that her husband spent that Entire Time lying through his teeth to her about his true intentions and service to her cosmic torturers ghgksf

anyway the point is—the way i read her transformation is twofold.

first, fundamentally it was an act of rebellion, the choice that firmly and finally ended the possibility that she would ever, ever engage with the gods on their own terms again. the god of light flooded her with pure creation to punish her for being human, and by submerging herself in the wellspring of his brother's power she restored the balance of her own soul.

and second, i think her corrupted appearance is a device the narrative is using to great effect to explore the dehumanization and the alienation she's experiencing as a direct result of the god of light, and ozma by extension, making her the scapegoat for the half of human nature that did not come from light. she looks grimm and her association with the grimm is the foremost obstacle standing between the heroes and the actual solution to the problem she represents—which of course begins with conceiving of her as a person who has made and is still making horrific choices, instead of as an inhuman monster they must stop by force.

(you know how blake is revealed to be a faunus by way of her exploding "well maybe we were just tired of being pushed around!" in the heat of an argument about the white fang's extremism and then fleeing in distraught panic until she reaches the statue in the courtyard of the huntsman and huntress standing triumphant over the grimm and she can't find herself in the human heroes but then she looks down and sees herself in the grimm as she slowly reaches up to remove the bow she's been using to hide the features that would get her branded as a monster by people who refuse to look past the parts of her that don't look human? you know how the white fang specifically wear grimm masks because "humanity wanted to make monsters out of us, so we chose to don the faces of monsters"? yeah i think abt that a normal amount)

#she made herself grimm to become human again

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13beachesxx · 11 months

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starting to wonder whether i was neglected between the ages of 12-18 and had to parent myself through it. never thought it was possible since there was always somebody in the house, but none of those people took an active parent role in my life so...what did that leave? mom was gone for the majority of that time, dad was also gone. aunt was there but her day to day responsibilities towards me and my sister were making sure we got our dinner after school. we were left entirely to our own devices after that. i can't remember a single time anybody ever helped me with homework or schoolwork, sure i was always an independent creature when it came to that stuff and maybe if offered, i would have turned it down, but nobody was even checking or keeping track of a single thing i was doing. the only time i remember mom & dad joint parenting was when i got suspended for that card thing when i was 9/10, and then they were gone again. maybe in the same way that her projects are her distractions now, she sought other countries and programs and studies as a means of escape from here, which is not really impossible to imagine given everything that was happening in our home and the kinds of toxicity people unleashed on each other. but why didn't they take us with? why didn't me and my sister get the luxury of also moving to france, to los angeles, while she studied and worked and found herself? it hardly seems fair in retrospect, not for the nice luxury life that would have afforded but for the escape from the crazy abusive person it would have afforded. maybe i wouldn't have taken on so much damage if they had done that. maybe i wouldn't have sunk into the depths of anorexia and all the other darkness. maybe, maybe. it's all speculation and What If's but i'm realizing a lot of major things in this moment.

it feels crazy to say i was neglected because i felt the opposite of that, but maybe i'm only thinking of material issues where i was clothed and fed and in that sense, i never had to worry. but anything above that, emotional and developmental issues, i guess, i was on my own. i figured it all out on my own. i always used to be surprised myself at my independent streak, going off to live alone at 15 in a different country for a summer and not suffering in the slightest for it, not missing home or family. quite the opposite, i felt like i was thriving. maybe that's because i've always been parenting and looking after myself since i could remember, or at least since the age of 7/8 when we left moscow and that close, real family unit i had felt so solidly for a couple of years instantly dissolved. when we were in moscow we were a family unit, the four of us, and even that is crystallized in my mind as the Best Part. whenever anyone else got added into the mix, shit started going sideways. i do believe my parents would've grown apart regardless of all the outside insanity and forces pushing on them, but maybe they would've lasted longer together. maybe even up to my graduation. we could never be a solid unit in that home where She resided, and it's crazy i'm realizing this now and none of the adults could back then. They should've seen the problem clear as day and then moved us out. i would have rather lived in a smaller apartment and do with less than have to share with her (and grandma, love you grandma but you too were perpetuating that bs).

youtube

it's taken this video to make me realize all of this, but wow, way too many of these apply to me and even that too is somehow me bearing witness to myself that i did, indeed, experience childhood trauma. even now i'm so reticent to call it that because some Part inside of me is like "you ungateful shit, what about X and Y, and Z". as if abusive dynamics can't exist in families that are well off, in children that are spoiled, that have their every whim fulfilled and then some. as if abuse can't happen to any person in any home regardless of these circumstances and you have to have lived some kind of Tiny Tim upbringing in a house like the Cratchits to have Really Been Neglected.

none of my friends grew up like this, we all had some level of privilege or wealth that afforded us, in the first place, the education it did, and everything else after. But every other person who was in my friend circle did fine, and did not suffer the way I did because their family was not toxic and twisted at its core. maybe A*****'s, but her toxic mother was out of the picture long before she moved here and her dad had seemingly taken on two of his stepchildren with a kind of love and care that would otherwise not be seen in someone not biologically related to their kids. though irony of ironies, that applied to me too. Ana's parents up and left for italy and she too, i'm sure, felt a hole inside and a great neglect because I remember her tears, missing her mother, the diary entries, all of that. In a way we were similar in that regard, except I don't ever remember crying because I missed my mother. Pretty sure i was already shut down and emotionless by then and feeling nothing about it all. it was just the way things were, and i did not mind. maybe everyone just dealt with their shit and stiff upper lipped it, and i'm the big baby who couldn't handle it all. it's either that or what happened to me was Much Worse than what happened to my friends or even to my sister, it can't be any other thing. and i can't work out which it was, as if it even makes a difference, because the damage was done and my body went into dissociation mode and my mind left its home and neither quite fully returned for a good 12 years. i'm still working to put myself back in my body and mind fully, even now. which is crazy. maybe by 40 i'll have gotten there. i hope so. i need to learn to be present once and for all and to do it before i die. it's not my fault in fight or flight mode i took permanent flight, bu it sure is my responsibility and even duty now to restore myself back in order. i'm tired of feeling incapable of doing things and want to feel capable of everything instead.

#Youtube

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quinnlarrabee · 1 year

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Do you work?

“Do you work?”

I looked to my right at the person who asked me this question, which sounded like a typo. He was around 28, tall with a messy head of brown hair and blue eyes, and he was wearing a perfectly fitted dark blue suit with a faintly pink shirt barely buttoned to his navel, a thin decorative scarf, a gold pinky ring, and a watch that could fund the average midwestern couple’s retirement. He was looking askance at me – peering, really – and seemed bored.

Given the context, his question was reasonable.

For a stretch in the mid-aughts I accidentally ran around New York City almost exclusively with fashion editors, Upper East Side trust fund kids and European nobility. During this brief, surreal window into an alternate universe I received fuckoff-sized paper invitations to museum galas, found myself on the guest lists of the most exclusive clubs (Beatrice, Double 7, and Bungalow 8), and humored a lot of fraught conversations in Spring and Fall about where people were summering and wintering, which were new verbs in my plebeian vocabulary. I never had to break stride to walk through any door preceded by a line or velvet ropes, because I was walking in behind people who had names that were preceded by hereditary titles, immortalized in social registers, and printed on the mastheads of then important but now irrelevant publications. I don’t quite know how it happened, but suddenly no one in my entire social circle really did anything but attend.

These were people who don’t work (PWDW, pronounced pee-dub-dee-dub).

The bored toff and I were seated next to one another at a dinner in the subterranean wine cellar of a very buzzy, flash-in-the-pan restaurant on the Lower East Side, which at the time was chic and favored by the jetset because it was still an overlooked, underdeveloped home to other jetsetters pretending to be poor artists. Among the dozen or so people around the table were a few leggy, bright-young-thing Vogue editors who lived off of bottomless expense accounts, but most of the guests were Counts and Barons and Ladies from Europe and the UK. It was like the United Nations for landed gentry. They were of the variety of restless, angsty rich children who in their mid-twenties leave behind their medals and sashes and ride into New York City on the magnetic strips of their parents’ debit cards to befriend DJs, abuse drugs, and have a lot of sex until their family sends a prim attaché to quietly fetch them from rehab or, worse, extract them from an inappropriate relationship. Funded by heaps of ill-begotten aristocratic wealth and powered by nouveau socialite influence, the dinner was a perfectly balanced sycophantic ecosystem.

I felt sorely out of place. My inseam is barely 32 inches after yoga, my family doesn’t have a coat of arms or a castle, and back then, the only thing I attended with regularity was an office where I worked.

This brings me back to the essential question, which sounded like, d’jooWEHK?

In the only two and a half syllables that he uttered at me, I could hear in his accent where he sat in the House of Windsor’s extended family tree: a branch far enough from duty to be making small talk with me at 10pm on a Tuesday night in NYC, but close enough to be wary of who he was seated next to. I decided there was only one direction to take this conversation.

“God, no,” I said, looking slightly away from him, furrowing my brow just a bit and lacing my two-word response with a touch of disgust. I took care not to expend more energy answering the question than he had expended asking it. People whose generational wealth and privilege have spared them the drudgery of working for a living ironically speak as if they are perpetually exhausted—as if every word that emerges from their pouted mouths requires Herculean effort. (Watch Prince – sorry, King Charles speak. You’ll see what I mean.)

“I have no living family who have ever worked,” I pronounced flatly, meeting his gaze, entirely committed to wearing his birthright as a costume. He laughed, very pleased by this.

“I thought all the money in America was only a generation or two old,” he said, sneering a bit. “Barely even a patina on it.” I imagined how annoying he must have been at Eaton. I bet he’d been a flamboyant fencer and a closeted bisexual.

“The proper families in New York sorted themselves out in the late 1800s,” I said, “not long after we sent your lot bleeding back to King George.” He raised his eyebrows and laughed. How is it that even the most handsome Brits look like horses when they laugh? The young woman to his right leaned in and addressed us in a very thick Italian accent imbued with plummy British.

“What are you two laughing about?” She was arrestingly beautiful. She probably would have been a model if her family hadn’t forbidden her from working.

“This American is explaining how peerage works in his country,” he said, his sneer-laugh reduced to a fatigued chuckle and a lazy smirk. I couldn’t tell if I was now in on the joke or the joke itself.

“Do you work?” I asked her. She smiled very sweetly and slightly shook her pretty head.

“Not yet, maybe I will not work – at a job,” she said. “I like reading and studying. I like learning about Italian art and history.” EEE-storee.

“Contessa Constantina’s family owns most of southern Italy,” announced the disdainful Brit. “Her studying art and history is just sort of reading the diaries of her ancestors.” He laughed at his joke. Constantina playfully slapped his arm and bared her perfect teeth at him. I realized right then and there that if I didn’t stop RSVPing to cursive invitations and gliding around with bored aristocrats and laughing at jokes about being bored aristocrats, I’d lose my drive, my self-respect, and certainly my savings.

I never saw the Brit or his Italian heiress again. They probably now have two kids in boarding school, split their time between Soho, Southampton, Surry and Sardinia, and both keep thinly concealed boyfriends on the Upper East Side or in Portugal. I distanced myself from PWDW and found friends who wanted to do things and build things (DTBT). I did things and built things.

Today, I am again surrounded by people who do not work.

But it’s a different kind of idleness. It isn’t rarified or earned over generations. These PWDW are not confined to secret dining rooms and donor circles and the fashion shows of young people bankrolled by ancestral conquests depicted in oil paintings displayed on the walls of their families’ crumbling villas. They’re everywhere.

No one really works anymore.

We check our many inboxes. We toggle between our employers’ email account, Instagram DMs and iMessage. We affirm things, rearrange things, and every once in a while, emphatically disagree with things to show that we’re paying attention. Like toddlers pretending to eat peas to appease their parents, we just move things around on our plates and occasionally throw fits. White collar digital work apes social media: everything has been reduced to likes and the shrug emoji.

Many of the PWDW I know these days have had an exit, and they are no longer required to even performatively work. An exit is when you build something that someone else perceives to be valuable or threatening, and they give you an eye-watering sum of money to allow what you’ve built to be digested into a larger business, where it will eventually wither, or to be extinguished immediately out of competitive spite. Post-exit people are a funny lot. They work insanely hard for three to twelve years, usually in relative poverty, and then a single event rockets them into the socioeconomic stratosphere, where they meet other people who don’t work—often the gilded European and posh Brit types from whom I extracted myself back in 2006. Together, they attend thought leadership conferences where they exchange tips about places to summer and winter that working people have never heard of.

The only people I know who actually work are people who do things with their hands, and this does not include typing. I’m talking about the kind of work performed by surgeons and landscapers and carpenters. People whose vocations have proper names still work. Florist, butcher, fishmonger. If you are something, you work. If you work in something, you don’t actually work. If your money comes from something, you definitely don’t work.

So, I ask you -

Do you work?

#dark humor #satire #social commentary #essays #culture

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fordecree7 · 21 days

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BOOK OF PSALM Psalms

Chapter 74

1 O God, why hast thou cast us off for ever? why doth thine anger smoke against the sheep of thy pasture? 2 Remember thy congregation, which thou hast purchased of old; the rod of thine inheritance, which thou hast redeemed; this mount Zion, wherein thou hast dwelt. 3 Lift up thy feet unto the perpetual desolations; even all that the enemy hath done wickedly in the sanctuary. 4 Thine enemies roar in the midst of thy congregations; they set up their ensigns for signs. 5 A man was famous according as he had lifted up axes upon the thick trees. 6 But now they break down the carved work thereof at once with axes and hammers. 7 They have cast fire into thy sanctuary, they have defiled by casting down the dwelling place of thy name to the ground. 8 They said in their hearts, Let us destroy them together: they have burned up all the synagogues of God in the land. 9 We see not our signs: there is no more any prophet: neither is there among us any that knoweth how long. 10 O God, how long shall the adversary reproach? shall the enemy blaspheme thy name for ever?

11 Why withdrawest thou thy hand, even thy right hand? pluck it out of thy bosom. 12 For God is my King of old, working salvation in the midst of the earth. 13 Thou didst divide the sea by thy strength: thou brakest the heads of the dragons in the waters. 14 Thou brakest the heads of leviathan in pieces, and gavest him to be meat to the people inhabiting the wilderness. 15 Thou didst cleave the fountain and the flood: thou driedst up mighty rivers. 16 The day is thine, the night also is thine: thou hast prepared the light and the sun. 17 Thou hast set all the borders of the earth: thou hast made summer and winter. 18 Remember this, that the enemy hath reproached, O LORD, and that the foolish people have blasphemed thy name. 19 O deliver not the soul of thy turtledove unto the multitude of the wicked: forget not the congregation of thy poor for ever. 20 Have respect unto the covenant: for the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty.

21 O let not the oppressed return ashamed: let the poor and needy praise thy name. 22 Arise, O God, plead thine own cause: remember how the foolish man reproacheth thee daily. 23 Forget not the voice of thine enemies: the tumult of those that rise up against thee increaseth continually.

Psalm 74

Diane Beauford

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noloveforned · 2 months

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no love for ned is on wlur from 8pm until midnight tonight and i hope you can join us.

i just realized i'm starting off the show tonight with a song from the spinanes who i was introduced to almost exactly thirty years ago. they opened for the afghan whigs at the famed city gardens (jon stewart was a bartender there in the eighties!) on april 8th, 1994. i remember the exact date because it was the day kurt cobain's body was found. the radio announced it that afternoon while we were in the car. i know there was a lot of talking about it that night, especially since both bands were on sub pop (where nirvana got their start). not sure i have much else to say- just a memory that was prompted by a band and date.

anyway, i've also archived last week's show on mixcloud for you to catch whenever you'd like if you're busy tonight!

no love for ned on wlur – march 22nd, 2024 from 8-10pm

artist // track // album // label martha // a praise chorus // is tomorrow just a day like all the rest? 7" // big scary monsters marbled eye // tonight // read the air // summer shade deerhoof // punch buggy valves // reveille // joyful noise checkpoint // friends // drift // erste theke tontraeger girl germs // magazine // tremorverse one compilation // tremorverse mononegatives // kill mono // kill mono flexi 7" // feral kid the celebrities // runaway baby // redd karpet ep // total punk virvon varvon // corner seat // four bars of hate cassette // girlsville cuticles // cheese in my brain // major works // siltbreeze reverse yr curse // how we get around // reverse yr curse ep // (self-released) the second wife // needle // tourist // potluck foundation rosali // my kind // bite down // merge waxahatchee featuring mj lenderman // right back to it // tigers blood // anti- lee baggett // all star day // echo me on // perpetual doom hochzeitskapelle featuring enid valu // stockholm syndrome // we dance ep // alien transistor alien eyelid // lemons (country club mix) // lemons (country club mix) digital single // fruit leather equipment pointed ankh // trucks to gettysburg // downtown // torn light ruth goller featuring tom skinner // below my skin // skyllumina // international anthem jessica ackerley, kevin cheli and gahlord dewald // aloft // submerging silently // cacophonous revival masao nakajima quartet // third plane // kemo-sabe // bbe music tani tabbal quartet // up start // intentional // mahakala dj harrison // lil birdie // shades of yesterday // stones throw tierra whack // accessible // world wide whack // interscope nimsins and ovrkast. // something else // me vs me ep // lofiction tanya morgan featuring piakhan // alleye need // brooklynati // interdependent media pete and cheez // you and me // eccentric soul: the shoestring label compilation // numero group calypso // the summer lies // the summer lies digital single // (self-released) shout out louds // the comeback // howl howl gaff gaff (revisited) ep // rutan tutan good morning // ahhhh (this isn’t ideal) // good morning seven // polyvinyl julia mcfarlane's reality guest // sensory // whoopee // night school mister baby // orange days // two two seven compilation // prefect research vessel // like today // going tomorrow cassette // small craft advisory dogbreth // into your arms // second home benefit volume one compilation // second home

#wlur #radio shows

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lunarescobar · 5 months

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‼️ IM VENTING FOR MYSELF; READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION ‼️

4:39 AM

I recently have been in a slump. It’s the same slump I’ve gone in and come out of over and over for as long as I can remember. It’s been a comfort, the slump; lonely and depressing, and cozy. It being one of the few if not the only thing I know will be come back even if it ends; the only way of living im used to. Being young, life changes so quickly. A new friend, a small mistake, one choice can change everything so quickly. so it often gives me solace to rot in my bed.

At this point, I’ve been in a slump for a bit over 8 months. I think I might have developed agoraphobia. Going outside, I just don’t do it. Except for the one, maybe two hours I spend with Henry outside. Henry is a autistic four year old I babysit, and frankly he’s one of my closest friends. Having a responsibility to a commitment I want to fulfill is the only thing that gets me out of the house. I say this not only in regards to my job but as a generalization of the only reasoning that will get me outside. Which has been very very few occasions.

People are scary, what else can I say…

People have always scared and overwhelmed me and I’ve always struggled with my social anxiety. But god, I can’t walk a block now without having a panic attack.

The following paragraphs are vents from a couple months ago. From some moments I fell so so low and perhaps what perpetuated a deeper fear of being in public.

2:34 AM

I can’t get out. I’ve spent my entire summer rotting in my bed.. literally. My apartment is infested with bugs and tasks I should’ve completed months ago…

I know when this slump began.. five months ago. Very rarely have I come out of it. Only once, for a short time, i felt safe and happy. Of course I ruined it.

The few times I haven't been a pitiful lump have been mostly manic episodes… I’m undiagnosed but I’m certain if those times don’t qualify as mania then it’d have to be a psychotic break of some kind. So I’m inclined to label those dates as manic episodes.. I've never talked about what happened then… but I've done about a hg of c0ké at this point so wth!

The first time, well the worst of it, I couldn't breathe. I don’t remember much leading up to when I left the house or after… but I remember the feeling. I felt the overwhelming need to get out. I felt I needed to leave I needed to be alone I needed something that I didn't know I needed, something i wouldn't know what it was till I found it. My skin was itchy, my thoughts zig zagged. I hated myself I hated my dad I hated my mom I hated M I hated my brothers. I hated myself even more for hating all the people who love me. I wanted to die and I wanted to feel pain. But most of all I wanted to be alone.

I was at my mothers house with my best friend , M, who I’m always with. M and me never leave each others side if it isn't for sex, school, work, or rare situations in which we cant both be present. And she wouldn't leave in a situation where I was acting unstable; when I was going from sobing to laughing to yelling in a span of 3 minutes. Disoriated, shaking and pupils huge , I tried to run away. M ran after me, worried; rightfully so.. I took my shoes off to run faster and tested my luck as I crossed streets; threatening suicide if she wouldn't leave me alone.

As I recall these events I feel so shameful. Fuck I need a therapist

She managed to corner me and I went crazy. I screamed rape and help as I kicked and pushed her with all my might. She remained calm, God bless her. Worried and clearly shaken but calm enough to calm me down. It took a long time. In the process, in a attempt to make her mad enough to leave me alone, I tried to say things to hurt her with little restrain't. I hurt her for a long time. Once I calmed down we talked and cried and went home…

My feet were cut as well as my legs and I couldn't look M in the eye the next day..

The second peak was worse.

I don’t remember it well either but from what I remember and from what I’ve been told, I regret that one specific night very much. I had been agitated all day. Alone at M and I’s apartment, I spent the day spiraling in my head.

By the time M got home I was sitting on my bed . Clothes and random things thrown on the floor and on the bed, holes in the walls, and a machete in my hand is what she walked in to.

Things escalated

I again wanted to be alone, I wanted the freedom to do with myself as I pleased. I had contacted my x4n plug before M had arrived in an attempt to find some way to calm myself down.

I said more words perfectly worded to offend and break M, this time with no restraint... She yelled back.

I called her dad

He came. Things escalated more. My mom had to come. I was trapped.

I threatened M’s dad with the machete since it was he who guarded the door. I was being unreasonable. I wasn't being me. And i tried but I couldn't physically be myself or control my actions…

It was scary. I said so many things to everyone in the room, about them, about myself…

Fuck

I'm so scared of myself. Most of the women in my family are hospitalized because they’re not safe to the public or to themselves. I don’t think I’ll be much different…

#rant post

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positivelybeastly · 4 months

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💖 Nathaniel Essex, but specifically my Medici verse where he’s still a morally gray genetic genius but also an ally of the X-Men (and yes I have managed to fit almost all of Sinister’s major plot points in while still making him not outright evil, if you can believe it lol)

How likely they are to enter a relationship with them:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

(Much more likely if he's merely morally grey! Hank can work with morally grey, as evidenced by his relationship with Abigail, and if you say you've got him intact without making him outright evil, I do believe you! He'd probably try and reign him in, but hey, that might actually play into the relationship - I can fix him, as the cliche goes. :P)

Would they…

Make the first move? Yes | No (If he's still a weird fruity flirt, I could see Hank being emboldened and flirting back, intimating that he'd be interested, just to see what happens and work out if Essex will pull back or not.)

Say “I love you” first? Yes | No (This one, I'd need more context for, but it feels like Hank is almost always the one to feel things and express those things first.)

Cheat on them? Yes | No (Final meme, final chance for me to say no.)

Be the jealous type? Yes | No (With Essex, I don't feel like he'd worry nearly at all.)

Plan the dates? Yes | No (It's Hank's thing by this point. He was only defeated on this front by Scott 'Failure to Prepare is Preparing to Fail' Summers so far.)

Initiate the first kiss? Yes | No (I feel like this might be Nathaniel's, actually!)

Remember anniversaries? Yes | No (Hank's just the type, tbh.)

BOLD WHAT APPLIES:

Their Relationship Is:

PUBLIC Displays of Affection:

PRIVATE Displays of Affection:

Do they stay together?

BONUS

What terrible pet names would they give each other?

I feel like Hank insists on Nathaniel pretty much always in this equation. Essex feels like he'd be the one to go in for nicknames, but how SFW they'd be, I couldn't say. :)

#defyxoblivion #less spicy shipping meme #outofmuffins

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