#I promise this is as preachy I’ll ever get on this blog

[babyybitchhh]

Just because someone isn't attracted to a person or character (who are of different ethnicities), doesn't mean they are racist. People have their own preferences in who they are attracted to. That doesn't mean they're racist. That's just their preference in who they are attracted to.

Okay, I’m not gonna allow this to turn into a big thing like the ass eating debate BUT I think you may have taken what I said a little too personally. That wasn’t directed at any one person or even certain groups of people, and I’m not of that opinion based off one or two specific individuals. Rather it’s fandom habits as a whole, and I’ve seen enough to know that by and large black characters are overlooked in favor of their lighter skinned counterparts. I mean, black characters show up so infrequently in Japanese media anyway (and their representation is ... another topic for another day) to the point where it really is easy to see this trend in action. Even if they hit ALL their charm points and have the looks to back them up, they still get mostly ignored. Why?

Heads up, I really got on my soap box with this one so feel free to keep scrolling

I actually saw a blog on here that was writing for Naruto who, with their whole chest, said they’d write for anyone except the Kumogakure characters (and Ino which, ew, I didn’t think someone with such terrible taste actually existed but 🤷‍♀️ here we are) and what do most of the Kumo ninja look like?

(I liked Omoi a LOT and Darui was nothing to shake your finger at either - and Mabui??? Good god, shes fucking gorgeous. Shikaku absolutely should have hit that while he had the chance, I know for a goddamn fact he was (respectfully) looking. )

But anyway I’m just not sure how you can look at something like that and not see color bias - and I used that wording very intentionally. Because even if you (that’s a general you) look at black or otherwise dark complexioned characters and decide they’re just not to your “preference” there’s still an underlying factor at play wherein, on a societal level, pale is touted as being attractive and melanin isn’t considered half as beautiful. It’s conditioned.

I have yet to see ANY self insert content for the above characters, or Ogun. I’ve seen VERY LITTLE for my man Avdol compared to the rest of the cast which, imo, is particularly telling because the Jojo fandom will even lewd a sadistic mold doctor (no shade, Ciccolata fans) but this absolute unit??

Only certain writers seem willing to take him on and me, personally, I’d rather see more smut of him than, say, Polnareff or Kira (no shade, stans)

Also I’ve seen maybe a handful of fics for Tosen PERIOD - not just self insert content - and half of that was pairing him with the big dog guy

Which is, again, indicative of a deeper issue considering how much thirst the light skinned characters generate by comparison.

And also someone I’d REALLY like to see self insert content for is Lock Rock, idk if it’s because he kinda looks like Eric Andre (man crush Thursday 🤪) or what, but I am feeling it

And don’t give me that “but he’s married and has a baby!” Bullshit when we’re out here lewding married man and father of four Enji Todoroki like we’re getting paid to do it. I want to see HC’s, smut, thirst, fics, something! Anything! Please!? (Seriously tho, does anyone have a hookup for ANY content of this man? 💀)

Now, don’t get me wrong here, I’m not innocent either. Ogun will be the first black character I personally write for but he’s not the first one I’ve found attractive nor do I glance over these characters based on their skin tone. If they’re hot, they’re fucking hot! Period!

And I think that’s what this boils down to, because even though you (still a general you) may not look at them and think “ew, they’re black”, if the color of their skin is the deciding factor for you then there is still a problem here.

Are you not attracted to that character because they don’t push your buttons right or is it ultimately because of their pigmentation?

Do you find yourself unattracted to every single black character you see, regardless of their facial features and other characteristics? (For example I’m not particularly attracted to Tosen but Lock Rock?? PHEW)

Ask yourself if there’s a single black person you DO find appealing.

I understand having preferences, I in fact have my own preferences, so that’s not the issue here. It’s also not “no one else is thirsting for Ogun, they’re all racist!” But rather “there is a very observable trend in fandom spaces where every character who appears to be black gets slept on and even if it doesn’t seem like racism on a surface level, the color bias absolutely exists on a broader spectrum and, yes, Ogun is definitely suffering from it”.

That’s it. I wasn’t calling YOU (you, specifically, anon) racist just because you don’t like Ogun, I’m saying that black people are consistently pushed aside in favor of light skinned people and it happens with alarming frequency even within fandoms which just goes to show how deep this issue actually runs. And that’s all just going off of how the CHARACTERS are treated, I haven’t even touched on how black readers/black artists/black writers are treated but then go ahead and amplify that to society as a whole and surely you can see why I’m going to call it what it is.

Plus I can almost guarantee that if Ogun had been “white” (I mean, he’d just be Shikamaru then but that’s neither here nor there cmdkxksksk) he’d have SOME content. Case in point, actual psychopath and certified star lord Rekka Hoshimiya even got thirst content from the fandom whereas the only black man in the series hasn’t gotten so much as a single HC. Trust me. I’ve scrolled to the bottom of his tag at least five times now. 💀

Literally the most I’ve seen is one or two people saying how attracted they were to Ogun and that’s it. A bitch literally cannot feed herself on such meager morsels, especially when Beni’s out here getting his 20th smut fic in a row - which is an impressive number for such a small fan base. Lmao Anyway my point here is that personal preferences are fine and dandy but when I can actually see the same trend repeating itself over and over, fandom after fandom ... there’s definitely something more than preference at play here. 🤷‍♀️

[fruitcoops]

could we see coops first big fight when they’re married? (essentially pure angst)

Yes, we can! Don’t worry, I got your follow-up ask about a happy ending as well--there are no sad endings on this blog, just some bittersweet ones, and this is very soft and fluffy. Hope you enjoy!

Combined with prompts for...

1. Another of Coops’ serious talks

2. Remus overworking himself to keep up

3. From @colored-rain: Sirius sleeping at Dumo’s for a night

4. Slow dancing in the kitchen

TW for couples fighting, suppression, and marriage issues

“Do you think we got married too fast?” a quiet voice asked in the darkness.

Remus paused for several heartbeats before opening his eyes and turning over; Sirius was staring at the ceiling, wide awake. “What?”

“Do you think we got married too fast?” Sirius repeated without looking at him.

“Do you?” Remus countered. Something panicky was starting to buzz in the back of his brain and he tried to keep his breaths steady. Sirius wasn’t breaking up with him. They had only been married for a few months. Things were really, really good—as far as he knew, they were both happier than they had ever been.

Sirius sighed through his nose. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Remus sat up against the headboard, wide awake. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I—” Sirius shifted to sit up as well and crossed his legs. “I don’t know! People usually date for a lot longer than a year and a half before getting married, right?”

“We’ve known each other for seven years, Sirius.”

“Yes, and I love you, and you’re wonderful, but everything happened so fast.”

Remus wasn’t sure if his heart was trying to crawl out of his chest or dissolve into a puddle of pain. “Are you—Sirius, are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” Sirius said immediately. “I just said I love you, what the hell?”

“People can love each other and still break up!”

Sirius grabbed his hands, holding tight even when Remus tried to pull back and let his panic overtake him. Grey eyes locked on his, as solemn as he had ever seen them. “I’m not breaking up with you, Remus.” The clock on the nightstand beeped midnight and Sirius pressed his lips together. “We have early practice.”

“We need to talk.”

“We need to sleep.”

“Promise we’ll talk tomorrow, then.” We need to talk right now, actually.

Sirius squeezed his hands and kissed his cheek. His cheek. “I promise.”

Remus didn’t sleep much that night. His cheek burned with the memory of Sirius’ lips.

---------------------------

Their morning routine was stilted and quiet. Practice was awkward, and though neither of them let the previous night’s events influence their performance, he knew the tension was palpable. “Y’all good?” Leo asked under his breath as Remus filled his waterbottle up.

“We’re fine,” he answered, exhausted.

“Loops—”

“Stay in your lane, Knut.” He regretted the words as soon as they escaped his mouth—the kicked-puppy look on Leo’s face was more than enough to make guilt spike up—but he kept on moving down the hall and tried to wash the bitter taste from his mouth.

The ride home was worlds worse than he could have expected. Sirius turned the radio off the moment it started to play and kept his eyes firmly on the windshield the entire time, tapping his thumb against the wheel in the tic that always appeared when he was nervous. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t help us fix whatever’s going on.” Remus wasn’t angry, per say, but he was really fucking frustrated with Sirius’ sudden inability to communicate. “Talk to me. What happened?”

Sirius chewed the edge of his lip. “I was just thinking.”

There was a long stretch of silence between them. “Wow, thank you for that incredibly helpful information,” Remus said sarcastically when it became clear he wasn’t going to continue.

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Sirius muttered.

“I’m not trying to be mean—”

“Well, you kind of were—”

“Then maybe you should talk about your problems for once!” Remus snapped before he could shove it back down. Sirius’ jaw clenched. “If we’re going to work through this, then you have to tell me what the hell happened to make you so worried and upset. Do you regret getting married to me?”

The response was immediate. “No.”

“Thank you.” He leaned his head back against the seat rest and closed his eyes. “Thank you, that was what I needed to hear.”

“Do you think we moved too fast?”

Remus scrubbed a hand over his face. “I used to. I don’t, anymore. There’s no rulebook for any of this. How long have you been thinking about that?”

Sirius started tapping the wheel again. “A couple weeks.”

He may as well have opened the passenger door and booted Remus from the car. A breath punched out of his lungs. “A couple weeks?” he whispered. The world was spinning, the floor was open, hell itself was coming to swallow him up. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured it was normal marriage stuff. That it would pass.”

“Oh my god.”

“I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

“And I do?” Remus said incredulously. “News flash: this is the first time I’ve ever been married, too!”

“Please don’t be angry.”

“Being married means you share things, Sirius, not keep them bottled up for two weeks! Especially when they concern the other person!”

Something stormy came over his face. “Oh, really? So when were you planning on talking to me about the fact that you haven’t slept in six days?”

“I literally sleep next to you!”

“You toss and turn all night, and then you get up and run drills for an hour before coming back to bed. Every time I ask how you slept, you lie to my face, Remus. That’s not okay.”

Remus was speechless. He had done everything he could think of to be quiet and careful so Sirius wouldn’t know. “I…”

Sirius glanced over at him, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Be an adult. Be an adult. You’re married. Be an adult. “I’m still worried about catching up to the team.”

“I figured. We’ve talked about this before, Re, it’s not safe for you to do that to yourself—”

“You don’t get it!” Sirius pulled into their driveway and turned the car off. “You have no idea how it feels to constantly be catching up to people! I’m fine, it’s not like I’m doing any damage!”

“I’m sorry, did you forget who you’re talking to?”

Remus clenched his teeth and got out of the car, grabbing his duffel from the backseat before slamming the door. He felt a little guilty—the rising memories of hushed confessions of hours of exercise to his father’s whistle meant Sirius understood better than anyone. Then the front door closed behind them both and the indignance on Sirius’ face sent his temper flaring up again. “You never bother to talk to me about anything that’s going on with you, so why should I even try?”

“What happened to ‘marriage is a partnership’?” Sirius followed him into the kitchen. “Have we moved on to the hypocrite stage yet or are we still clearing the air where nothing ever gets solved?”

Remus reeled back like he’d been slapped. “Fucking excuse me?”

“Every time we fight, you start all sarcastic and defensive, and then you get preachy like you’re reading something out of a fucking self-help book!” Sirius ran a hand through his hair. “Christ, Remus, it feels like I’m talking to a therapist instead of my partner!”

“Husband!” The ring on his finger had always been a comfort instead of a lead weight. “You can’t even say it?”

“I don’t regret marrying you!

“Then why are you so upset about us being married young?!”

“Because it’ll fall apart!” Sirius shouted back. “We’re going to be insufferably happy for a while, and then somewhere along the line we’re going to hate each other, and then it’ll be cold looks when we pass and different beds and all our friends will have to pick sides because we can’t stand to be in the same room together!”

“If you’re so sure about that, then why are you trying to fucking hard to keep us together?” Remus’ heart pounded like he’d run a marathon. Hearing his own fears thrown in his face was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced.

“Because I love you.” Sirius’ voice broke. They were on opposite sides of the kitchen island, but Remus could see the pain on his face. “I love you, and I don’t want some—some impulsive decision to ruin that forever.”

“I love you, too.” Tears clogged the back of Remus’ throat. So stop pushing me away.

“Then I’ll be at Dumo’s.”

Remus nodded silently as Sirius walked past him toward the stairs; the moment he was out of sight, he headed into the downstairs bathroom and sat down with his back to the closed door, burying his face in his forearms. There was a rustle outside, and the front door closed with a click.

It wasn’t until his face itched with drying tears that he remembered Hattie. Guilt and panic stabbed through him and he scrambled back out, sprinting to her bed and then to the backyard. “Hattie?” he called, frantic with worry. “Hattie, c’mere!”

He closed his eyes and thought back to the events of the day. They had left her in the house for practice, and he vaguely remembered hearing her in the other room while they were fighting, and when Sirius left—

“Oh, you bastard,” he said aloud. The rustling of Sirius grabbing his duffel and whatever else he packed had been accompanied by the pattering of Hattie’s paws. “You took our fucking dog.”

Part of him was grateful that at least somebody had remembered their baby. The other part was absolutely furious. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a few deep breaths as the tone played. “Hello?”

“Can you pick me up?”

“Re, are you okay?”

“Not really. Can you pick me up?”

Concern dripped from Lily’s voice. “Where are you?”

“At home.”

“…where’s Sirius?”

“At Dumo’s.”

“I’m on my way.”

-----------------------------------

Harry Potter had been alive for less than two years, and he had been cried on by about half the Lions. Finn had started referring to him as ‘therapy baby’, and Remus was inclined to agree—it was hard to feel anything extreme when he was holding the pudgy little angel to his chest.

“So you fought?” Lily asked gently from the armchair across from him. Remus nodded. The whole story had spilled out in a gross mess of sobbing and baby snuggles until he laid down on his back, holding Harry to his chest as he dozed.

“I feel like an idiot,” he said miserably.

“Don’t.”

“It was awful.”

“I bet.”

Remus sniffled and kissed the top of Harry’s head. “Thank you for getting me. I didn’t want to be there alone.”

“I’m glad you called.” She took a sip of tea and gave him a look that he never liked. “Re, can I be honest with you?”

“Always.”

“I was kind of waiting for this to happen.” At his stricken expression, she folded her hands around the sides of her mug. “I don’t think you got married too early, because neither of you do big things like that on impulse and you love each other so much. However, I do think that you have a habit of trying to protect each other from the shit you carry with you. James did the same thing to me, and it sucked.”

“It does suck,” Remus agreed. “I hate the thought that he can’t trust me.”

Lily held her finger up and shook her head. “Nope. It’s not an issue of trust, is it? Why didn’t you tell Sirius that you were having trouble sleeping?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry h—oh.” Harry wiggled around for a moment and Remus adjusted himself so he was leaning on the armrest. “I think I get it now.”

“You guys need to talk about that at some point or it’s going to keep coming up.”

“Is that what you and James did?”

“No, we let it fester for, like, a year and then broke up for two weeks.”

Remus made a sympathetic face. “I forgot about that part. I should call him, huh?”

Lily shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

“I want to apologize,” he said carefully. The sore spot in his heart and chest still twinged. “But I’m still really upset. And hurt. And a little angry? Mostly worried. There’s so much happening, I just want to hold your baby.”

“Go for it, he’s having a blast. Lover?”

There was a shuffling sound from the other room before James appeared in the doorway. “Yes?”

Remus snorted. “Simp.”

“Yes, and? What’s up, darling?”

“Can I have some more tea?” She batted her eyelashes at him with a dimpled smile and he sighed, then took her mug with him into the kitchen.

“You only love me for my kettle!” he called over his shoulder with a grin.

“Maybe!”

Remus turned his head to look at Lily while he ran a hand over Harry’s back. “Lils?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I preachy when I’m upset?”

She frowned. “What?”

“Preachy. Like—like I’m reading out of a self-help book.”

With a heavy sigh, she stood up and walked to the couch, leaning over the armrest to kiss his forehead. “No, Re, you’re not preachy. You like being right, but you’re not preachy.”

“Sirius thinks we’ll end up like his parents.”

“I’m not surprised about that, either.” She brushed his messy hair off his forehead and braided a small strand along the front, then gave it a little tug. “Guest bedroom’s yours for as long as you need it, okay?”

“That might be a while.”

She shook her head and patted his shoulder. “It won’t.”

“Could be.”

“Remus.”

“Sorry. Sleep well, Lils.” He sat up slightly and covered Harry’s ears. “And you, eavesdropper!”

“Love you!” James laughed from the other room. Lily picked the sleepy baby up and ushered Remus into the guest room with a final ‘goodnight’.

-----------------------------------

“Am I an idiot?” Sirius asked.

The bed creaked as Dumo readjusted his legs. “No, mon fils, you’re not an idiot. You are a young man going through his first marriage spat.”

“I hate it. I hate it. I said horrible things to him.”

“It sounds like you’re both to blame.”

“No, I brought it up first.” Dumo huffed, and he let out a slow exhale into the pillow. “Okay, maybe—maybe we were both in the wrong.”

“Fights are rarely one-sided. You have a visitor.”

Something cold prodded Sirius’ ear and he groaned, then curled on his side to let Hattie onto the covers next to him. “Bonjour, sweet girl. Thank you for the cuddles.”

She licked his nose and he smiled, petting the velvety top of her head. “Are you staying here tonight?”

“I was thinking about it. Re’s got the house to himself for a bit, then, and he knows I’m here.”

“I’m glad you’re taking the time to calm down a bit,” Dumo said as he stood with a final ruffle of Sirius’ hair. “That’s a wise decision. Bonne nuit.”

Sirius mumbled a response and made more room for Hattie, then settled in for a restless night. He never wanted to sleep alone again.

----------------------------------

By some miracle, practice was more bearable the second day. Remus still ached somewhere deep inside, but it wasn’t like he had anything else left to suppress. Seeing Sirius was a relief; it surprised him at first, considering the explosive nature of the previous evening, before sliding into something that soothed him. If he could still find peace in Sirius after all that, they would be okay.

He knocked lightly on the side of Sirius’ stall after he returned from the shower. “Knock, knock. Ca—”

“Who’s there?”

Remus’ heart stuttered as Sirius looked up at him from the bench with an apologetic tilt to his mouth. Something clicked into place. “Can I get a ride?”

“ ‘course you can.” Sirius stood up just as Remus stepped forward, and they met in the middle for a tight hug. He tucked his face into the dip of Sirius’ collarbone and breathed in his shower-fresh smell, as well as the trace of laundry detergent from his shirt.

“Love you,” he murmured.

“Let’s go, mon loup.” Sirius pressed a kiss to his hair and they headed out toward the parking lot together; Remus caught Leo’s eye and saw him smile.

“How’s Dumo doing?” Remus asked as they turned out of the parking lot. Start slow, start easy. “Did you drop Hattie off at home before you came to practice?”

“Yeah, I did. He’s good, and Celeste sent me back with some brownies.”

Remus tentatively reached over and rested his hand on the side of Sirius’ thigh—his chest visibly caught before he relaxed into it and reached down to put his own overtop. “Harry’s doing well. Lily says he’s almost started running.”

“Did you go see them?”

“Stayed at their place last night.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It felt weird being there by myself.”

“Re—”

“I’m so sorry.” The words spilled out in a rush, despite his best efforts to keep it in until they reached home. “I’m sorry for everything I said to you, and especially for how I said it. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about how I was feeling, too. It should never have gotten to that point.”

“Apology accepted.” Sirius sounded a little choked up. “I don’t think we got married too soon, if that means anything.”

“Of course it means something,” Remus half-laughed as he wiped the dampness from the corners of his eyes. “It means everything.”

“I thought it might be too late.”

“Can you pull over for a second?” Sirius obliged, and as soon as he turned the car off, Remus turned to face him. He linked their hands, making sure Sirius was looking into his eyes. “It is never too late to talk to me, okay? I’m sorry if I ever made you think that it was.”

Sirius unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over for a brief kiss that sent bubbling warmth throughout Remus’ entire body. “I’m so, so sorry for yelling at you. And for keeping everything in, even though we both promised to stop doing that. All that shit I said, it—it wasn’t true, Re, and I wasn’t thinking.”

Remus rested their foreheads together and wound his fingers in the short curls fanning Sirius’ face. “Honey, we’re not your parents.”

Sirius swallowed hard. “I know.”

“So you don’t have to be afraid that we’re going to hate each other out of the blue, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If—” His mouth went a little dry and he faltered. “If you want to take a break, or take things slower, I totally respect—”

“Nope, no, no, no,” Sirius interrupted, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him in for another fervent kiss. “I love you. I’m happy with you. I let my head get away from me, and I’m sorry.”

“All’s forgiven, love.” They sat in silence for a minute longer as Sirius traced his jawline. “Let’s go home.”

-------------------------------------

Sirius woke up in bed alone, which would have scared him if he didn’t know exactly where his husband was. He smiled to himself and got out of bed, grabbing a hoodie off their dresser before heading downstairs.

The kitchen light was on and music played quietly from Remus’ phone over the sound of running water. “You’re up late,” he said casually from the doorway.

Remus almost dropped a pot. “Jesus Christ!”

“Just me.” Sirius wrapped his arms around his waist as he set the pot on the drying rack. “Stressed?”

“A little. I forgot to do these earlier and didn’t want to leave them overnight again.” Sirius hummed his agreement and rocked back and forth, then took Remus’ hand and spun him in a slow circle. “Oh, are we slow dancing to the Billboard Top 100 now?”

“Very romantic, I know,” Sirius laughed.

Remus shook his head with a wide grin as they swayed, much too slow for the actual song but absolutely perfect. He was beautiful in the low light of their kitchen, puffy eyes from and all. “You are ridiculous.”

I’m the luckiest person alive. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Sirius leaned down for a series of quick kisses, pulling him in until their chests pressed together. Remus let go of his hand and draped both arms over his shoulders, tangling his hands in his hair. “I know we can’t exactly control it,” Sirius said against his lips. “But let’s never fight like that again.”

“Deal.”

[phil-dwyer-stan-account]

If you could only give out one piece of advice for the rest of your life what would it be

I’ve been sitting on this for a few days. I mean I don’t know if I’m the best person to give advice I just run a shitty twilight blog I’m not a therapist or anything but I’ll do my best! I’ve been trying to think of something generic enough to be the only advice I ever give. This is going to be real preachy and I’m going to reference myself as an example but not to make it about me just to show where I need this advice too (because I’m not talking to a specific person so I can’t focus on them) so I’m sorry in advance.

I would say first(this is a two parter), be gentle with yourself about your emotions. Every emotion exists for a reason and there’s a time and place for all of them. There are situations where it’s important to feel sad or angry or scared. You are allowed to feel things. But also there’s a balance (my “default” emotion tends to be sadness and while it’s okay to be sad it’s not good to be sad all the time. And I have to work on that). Don’t fight your “negative emotions” but if you’re feeling them “too often” try to identify why you feel that way in a situation that doesn’t “make sense” for it and see if there’s something you need to work through. I’m the type of person that feels what I’m feeling at 100%. So when I feel sad or angry or scared at the “wrong time” I have to remind myself that it’s okay I don’t have to fight myself for feeling the way I feel. I take a minute to let myself feel it, but then I examine “okay why do I feel like this” and I try to work through it. Maybe it reminds me of a past trauma. Maybe I’ve been holding in my emotions for too long. Maybe there’s a misunderstanding. But I’ve learned to never get mad at myself for my emotions because there’s a reason I feel that way. Suppressing doesn’t fix anything but identify the issue and working through it does.

Okay part two is much happier. Find something simple and enjoyable to spend some time on. It’s so easy to get caught up with making yourself busy. I have a very hard time shutting my brain off and I know that’s common when there’s so much push towards productivity. I love making art and reading but even doing that for pleasure can be too much because of the push to feel accomplished. Trust me if you find something simple to enjoy when the push to create and be productive and stay busy is overwhelming it makes the world of a difference. Personally, I love the game(it’s in the App Store for apple for sure but most likely for android as well) Neko Atsume. It’s an adorable game where you just put out food, cat toys, and furniture in a virtual back yard and cats just come and visit you. That’s it. They have names and personalities and you can take pictures of them. But there is no leveling up or trying to be the best. I was talking to @the-golden-onion about it because we’re both big fans and she said “two cow cats in the cow tunnel is how you win neko atsume i don’t make the rules”. And I don’t know about you but the idea of the coolest thing being based on “two cats hung out at the same object hell yeah” is refreshing. It’s so simple and calming. I always say that I was born stressed. I genuinel don’t know what it means to just relax, but with this game I do. And it’s so noncommittal. You check it when you feel like it. If you get busy and forget to put out food for awhile. Guess what happens? Nothing. The cats still love you. Oh you can’t afford(in game currency based on the cat visits you don’t have to spend money it’s a truly free game) the fanciest food? Guess what? The cats still love you. Literally you just enjoy cartoon cats being adorable. And YOU DESERVE to just sit and be “unproductive” and enjoy how cute these cats are.

And maybe Neko Atsume isn’t the game for you and that’s totally fine. Maybe games aren’t it for you at all and that’s totally fine! Maybe it’s going outside and looking at the sunset every night. Maybe it’s just sitting down and breathing for a few minutes. Maybe it’s listening to your favorite album. Maybe it’s watching YouTube videos of people making old fashioned hard candy(highly recommend this as well) BUT SERIOUSLY LIFE IS HARD AND EXHAUSTING TAKE A BIT TO ENJOY SOMETHING SMALL. I used to roll my eyes when people would give me advise like this but trust me it’s necessary.

You are loved! But you don’t need someone random on tumblr to tell you that. I hope you find your own reasons within yourself to believe that. No matter who you are you are loved and you deserve to love yourself. I know it’s hard trust me I know. But you do deserve good things and to feel good about yourself.

(I’m gonna dip out before I start quoting folk punk bands. Sorry for being so preachy and thank you to the anon that sent this I hope you’re doing okay. If anyone ever needs advice or to talk or anything please don’t hesitate to reach out. Again I’m not a therapist so I can’t promise to fix anything but I am a person who cares)

[jswdmb1]

You’ve Got A Friend

“Ain't it good to know you've got a friend?”

- Carole King

I recently made it known on my music blog of my love for WXRT’s Saturday Morning Flashback.  I didn’t post a playlist this past Saturday because I have been caught up in the year that was featured and can’t narrow a list of songs down.  My reaction to the year caught me off guard because I wasn’t even around for it - 1971.  Still, it was a fascinating year in the amount of significant and timeless music that was produced and song after song kept coming that really got me hooked.  That, however is not what this post is about (though I promise the playlist is coming).  Rather, it is about the song featured in the title to this blog that came out that year.  James Taylor had the hit with it, but it was initially recorded and written by his friend Carole King for her album Tapestry.  She wrote it in response to the despair of Taylor’s “Fire & Rain” from the previous year as a way of reassurance that no matter how bad things get there is always someone you can count on.

As I continued to immerse myself in the Rolling Stones “Sticky Fingers” and other songs from 1971 by greats such as Al Green, The Who, and of course John Lennon’s “Imagine”, I kept thinking about how King’s message contrasted so starkly with the times.  There was a war raging that was killing thousands for an unclear purpose.  Leaders and politicians were betraying the trust of the public on an almost daily basis.  Clashes between people of different races, genders, religions, sexual orientations, and more were on full display and sometimes violent.  Finding a friend during times like that must have been awfully hard no matter how much Carole or James sang it so sweetly.  As I pondered this, I took a break to see a movie that ended up putting some of it together.

The movie is a documentary of the life of Fred Rogers titled “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?”  I am not going to give you a review of the film or tell you much about it because I am insisting that you go see it yourself and draw your own conclusions.  As a matter of fact, I think this should be required viewing for every single person in the country right now. While the movie is a straight-up biographical documentary, it beautifully frames his life in the context of a world that has turned quite sour.  It’s relatively easy to put the pieces together that what we are missing now more than ever is Mr. Rogers’ primary message of love towards our neighbors and to also love ourselves.

Now, many of you may already feel like you know everything you need to know about Mr. Rogers from watching his show as a child and find his sentiment pretty corny.  The movie does not hide the fact that his show was simple with low production values.  What will come as a surprise is how that simplicity and kindness was somewhat of a cover for Rogers to tackle some of the toughest issues not just of that day, but those that still affect us today.  A scene early in the film, which I won’t disclose to avoid diminishing its impact, was filmed as part of his first week of production in the late 60′s, but is eerily relevant to this exact moment.  When you see something like that, you realize that there was way more to what he was doing then snappy songs and sock puppets.  You also come to appreciate the pure genius behind his methods of delivering simple, honest communication to kids - all with topics others wouldn’t touch on or off TV.  

I also find it interesting that during this revolutionary music phase of 1971 was right as Mr. Rogers shot to popularity on a newly created PBS (which he basically single-handedly saved from Nixon’s budget axe).  The documentary proves that Mr. Rogers not only did not shy away from the volatile subjects of those days’ current events, but he tackled them head on to help children get some grasp on a world that seemed completely out of control in the hands of the rest of the adults.  His message was clear: I am here for you, I love you, and I am listening.  Essentially, he was telling kids that you’ve got a friend.  Again, the message is simple, but the context in which it was delivered was bold.  There’s a word that you probably don’t associate with Mr. Rogers often - bold.  I guarantee whether you agree with his message or not, I’ll bet that you come to that same conclusion that this man had some major guts after you watch this movie.

Still, as I left the theater, I couldn’t help feel absolute despair.  Mr. Rogers has been dead for fifteen years and any advancements we made as a society under his watch in terms of openness, togetherness, and civility have eroded to just about nothing.  Where are we going to find that friend on TV to help us through these challenging times?  I’m not sure that I have an answer, but I do not think we can give up on the message Mr. Rogers delivered his entire life that every person has something that makes them special and we should all do our best to find that in everyone we meet.  Personally, that is going to be a tall order for me.  My cynicism runs so deep and I admit that I get just as caught up as anyone in the divisive nature of our country right now that I find it hard to believe everyone can be good.  I also let my blood boil when I see politicians I hate do things that I think are wrong and get angry at the world and others when things don’t seem to be going my way.  I am frustrated that I have let it all get to me and don’t really want to let that go.  

Maybe, though, we don’t need to start with everybody or those we see on the news and instead should first focus our energy within.  I think a lot of the meanness, hate, and anger in the world right now is coming from people with a deep sense of pain.  The pain may be physical or mental, but there is no doubt that a lot of people really hurt right now.  To me, that pain then manifests itself into a rage that has to be turned outward to protect themselves.  It starts because we are fearful of loving ourselves.  We don’t want to look past what we think the world wants us to be, but if we did, I think we’d find that specialness we each have that Mr. Rogers was talking about.  Essentially, we need to shut down the noise around us and just listen ourselves honestly and objectively.  Once we do that, then we can start caring for ourselves and treating ourselves kindly and that might ready ourselves to do it towards others.  It seems to me that anyone who would acknowledge and accept the good within them would have an awfully hard time being too preoccupied with hate and rage towards others.

The next step would be showing that love towards others and being the friend Carole sung about.  As an old saying goes, you don’t need to change the world, just your little corner of it.  Start with your family.  Could be a spouse, your kids, a sibling, maybe a parent.  When was the last time any of us can say we really stopped to take the time to understand their feelings in these troubled times.  Carve out some time to spend simply talking about stuff.  I know that for me, it has become therapeutic to spend time with my wife and kids talking about a wide range of topics often over a meal.  I know I bore them to tears sometimes, but I also know I have been better about listening and trying to understand them as the individual people they are.  This is really poignant with kids as we tend to discount the fact that they have feelings too.  They feel some of the same emotions we adults have and need someone to listen to them just as much as we do.  At a minimum, even if they are just being nice and not really listening to me (a common thing, I’m sure, for anyone who spends a lot of time with me), I hope they see that I am always willing to talk (and more importantly listen) and will be there if and when they need me.

Of course, this doesn’t have to just be with family members.  It could also be with good friends, a neighbor, or maybe someone you know at work or school who just needs someone to talk to.  I find the best setting to do this is over a great cup of coffee at a quiet time of day.  When you get together with whomever you choose, let them do the talking and really listen.  One of the most fascinating parts of the Mr. Rogers movie has to do with the power of silence and self-reflection, both of which he used often.  It’s interesting to me how both can be powerful parts of a conversation if you let them come naturally.  It is amazing how wonderful it can be sometimes to have a pause in all of the chatter to process things and thoughtfully reflect on what you may have just heard.  And, when someone you are with sees you are not afraid to stop and listen or really think about what they are saying, it is impossible for them not to let them feel your love for them.  It’s the old less is more adage, but it is incredibly powerful.

I’d apologize for the preachiness of this post, but anyone who reads this blog (or is still reading this particular entry) already knows that I can’t help it.  I am really not trying to lecture, but to try and offer some hope to those who aren’t sure that we can reverse the trend of mean-spiritedness and anger that has become the rule in this world.  Whether this is inspired or not, I can’t say, but it has been hard for me not to feel the power of the connection between the music and times of 1971 along with the gentle message of Mr. Rogers that was coming along right at the same moment.  While both are long gone, the legacy of those songs and the endurance of Mr. Rogers’ message of peace, love & understanding can live on if we want it.  Maybe it’s too much to try and do it everywhere with everyone, but we can sure start in our little corner of this world with the people to whom we are the closest.  And, if you’re not sure where to turn, call me and I’ll be your friend....just so long as you are buying the coffee (cream, no sugar please).

Have a great rest of your week and please go see that movie.

- Jim

[blue-eyed-devils]

tagged by: @alphadelameutedelycan

tagging:  @offairytaleisms @thebruisxr @thesonsandtheheirs @dxmnxdxniel @prostatis @studsxsluts @menwithbeautifullocks & anyone else who wants to do this

name: Josh

birthday: James Dean’s Bday! Just the day or am I really that old?

zodiac: Aquarius

height: 176 cm

sexual orientation:  Queer Creature from the Gay Lagoon

favorite color:  Chocolate...Maple Syrup? No? Sorry, got distracted. I guess Aqua is nice.

favorite book:  The Carnivorous Lamb (Very taboo but so amazing, plus author’s spainish & wrote it in French as a F U to Franco’s regime at the time)

favorite artist/bands:  Currently IAMX

last movie i watched: The Show, with Josh Duhamel. Interesting premise but poorly ended. Does that typical preachy message that american films often do.

hogwarts house:  Probably Slyverin. I even look like Tom Felton a bit. 

random fact:  The cat on my lap is offended by me typing right now. How dare I?

when did you create your blog?: December last year. I’ll make a special anniversary post, promise.

do you have any other blogs?:  I had a popular personal blog where i posted many rare pics of celebs i found and tv/movie recc lists to help people but that blog got flagged so I needed a new home and I came here instead. 

what made you decide to get a tumblr?:   Years ago when I first got into Teen Wolf, someone told me about tumblr and its been infecting my system ever since.

do you get asks on a daily basis?: Sometimes, rarely

why did you choose your url?:  Because I wanted a unifying theme for my boys, some kind of common connection. Having them all be criminals in some way, with blue eyes worked for me. Not the best URL but whatever. 

[thelowercasegimmick]

YA Review, 10/7/16: The Miseducation of Cameron Post by Emily M. Danforth

Sometimes, I think I should talk about politics more on this blog.  It’s not like I don’t have strong political opinions.  I think part of the problem is that, much as I’d like to pretend otherwise, I am on Tumblr, which is not exactly known as a forum for rational discussions.  I guess that’s a way of saying that I’m afraid of getting into an argument I can’t win, or saying something ignorant that ends up hurting people.  But the truth is, everything is political, and YA books aren’t exempt from that.  I do generally believe that a book’s artistry can be evaluated separately from its politics, but that only works to a certain extent, and only with certain books.  When a book’s aims are explicitly political, there’s really no way to evaluate whether the book succeeds or not without talking about its politics.

This book gives me plenty to talk about besides its politics, and I’ll talk about that as well.  But given that this book is about ex-gay therapy, and Danforth was inspired by the Zack Stark controversy, it seems important to me to talk about Danforth’s political agenda, and how that affects the reading experience of this book.  Because part of what made this such a powerful read for me was the fact that yes, this book does speak to my own politics - my experience was strongly affected by the fact that Danforth is writing about something deeply important to me.

I’ll be honest: I don’t generally like books that directly address politics.  Books like The Hunger Games (2008) and The Adoration of Jenna Fox (2011) are very political books, but they use allegory rather than directly addressing their issues.  While this does make it more likely that readers will miss the point (I honestly doubt that most fans of The Hunger Games actually got the allegory), it also lets the authors write with a defter hand, so that the books are rarely preachy or overdone.  The futuristic settings and sci-fi stories force the authors to focus on other things besides the message, and as a result, those books tend to have much stronger characters and plots than books that address politics directly.  Books like Luna (2004) and Wide Awake (2006) that address political issues directly and structure everything around those issues are generally badly-plotted with boring characters.  You get the impression that the authors weren’t actually interested in telling a story - they just wanted to talk about politics, and the plot and characters are just an excuse to do so.  They’re the kind of books that get called ‘preachy’, and there’s a reason people hate preachy works so much.  It’s hard to think of a bigger disappointment than being promised a story and being given a political rant in exchange.

Because of all that, I can’t praise Danforth enough for her restraint in how she wrote this novel.  It would’ve been so easy for her to make this novel nothing but an excuse to show various ways that ex-gay therapy is bad.  But that’s not what this novel does.  This novel is just as much about Cameron as it is about ex-gay therapy - perhaps even more about Cameron, given that she isn’t even institutionalized until halfway through the novel.  This feels like a perfect blend of a political message and a character-oriented one - this is a story about how very personal politics can be.  Cameron’s story couldn’t be told without this political message, and the political message would be very different with a different viewpoint character.  And, as a bisexual person myself, the knowledge that I could have ended up in Cameron’s situation had I been born into a different family made the reading experience all the more visceral for me.  That won’t be everyone’s reading experience, obviously, but I related to Cameron a lot, and that made the character arc all the more powerful for me.  And it helps just how on-point Danforth’s political message is, in relation to that arc.  Danforth clearly knows a lot about corrective therapy, and in the minor characters, she incorporates a lot of different aspects of how the therapy affects people.  Apart from this helping to provide a lot of good development for the side characters, it paints a very complete picture of just why most gay people find this therapy so objectionable.  This could’ve easily been an angry, bitter book, but Danforth is a more subtle author than that.  Instead, the dominant emotion is sorrow - she emphasizes all the loss that occurs, and the lasting consequences of the trauma for these characters.  I couldn’t ask for a better character arc centering around a political issue.

Moving away from politics a bit, I want to expand a bit more on how surprisingly subtle this book is.  Danforth opens the novel when Cameron is twelve and her parents die, and slowly works her way to when Cameron is fifteen or sixteen.  This is an incredibly risky choice - I almost always hate novels that try to incorporate such a large time scale.  But Danforth uses this to excellent effect.  She’s smart enough to leave very little to summary - almost everything we learn comes from a scene.  This extended opening essentially serves to set up (and even begin) Cameron’s character arc, in a way that just wouldn’t work as well in a set of flashbacks.  I might not have even missed this information if it wasn’t there, but I’m so glad that Danforth had the sense to realize that it was necessary - it adds to the character arc in a lot of subtle ways.  This novel is an excellent example of showing rather than telling.  Part of the reason I felt Cameron’s character arc so strongly is that I felt it - Danforth never beats us over the head with it.  This is not an intense book; the emotional high points are few and far between.  But the parts between those high points flow very naturally and always stay interesting, and when the emotional high points do come, they’re all the more poignant as a result.

Unfortunately, the prose was the only thing that prevented this novel from being truly excellent.  This book was written in first-person, which was a huge mistake, because Danforth isn’t even trying to write a convincing voice for a teenager.  Danforth has a PhD in creative writing, and while that’s not usually a bad thing, it’s certainly a problem when your teenager talks like a thirty-something who majored in creative writing in college.  This prose would’ve been fine if it was third-person - Danforth definitely writes with the skill of a creative writing PhD.  But writing a teenager this way was just the wrong artistic choice, and it distanced me from the story quite a bit.  Skilled as Cameron’s character arc is, it’s easy to feel a bit at an arm’s length from her at times, mostly because she doesn’t talk like any teenager I’ve ever known.

But I still highly recommend this novel.  I honestly can’t think of another YA book that directly talks about politics this well.  This is subtle, well-structured, and with a wonderful character arc.  There’s simply nothing like this in YA, and it’s a shame that Danforth doesn’t seem to be releasing another novel.  I’d hate for such a talented author to only release a single book.

[lana-del-briaridyl-blog]

#2 - August 2, 2017

X,

First of all, notice that I’ve changed our url. And that’s because I’m a big fucking klutz and I accidentally liked a post on ZG’s new girlfriend’s blog while on this account. Just hand me a gold medal for being the world’s shittiest Tumblr stalker. ZG texted me and her girlfriend changed her url. Yikes.

I’m literally writing this at work right now. Getting paid by the hour. *money barf emoji*

About the self-sabotage/crushing on straight guys thing: It could be that you’re subconsciously going for people you know are unattainable, which is scary, but I think that’s actually a pretty normal tendency and I wouldn’t be too worried (if that helps at all?). Crushing on celebrities/older people/people in relationships can be a safe testing ground for us to figure out what we like and what kinds of people we’re into without the pressure of trying to make something happen. The problem is, in your case, you have to live with this guy AND a relationship is something that you actually want right now.  

Also, the feeling that everyone else is getting all of the experiences in dating/sex/romance and you’re not is LITERALLY THE WORST THING EVER. Like, it has so much power to bring up the “yo is there something wrong with me tho” feelings.

SO. A few things (gonna bullet point because paragraphs are whatever):

To be honest, a lot of things about dating really suck. The honeymoon period goes away eventually, and a lot of times you’re kind of left with this dynamic that feels more like when you and I would sit in the N*ckCave in high school and put in a pizza and talk about what to watch on TV/YouTube for 30mins before just sitting on the couch and doing whatever than it does ~romance~. I’m not saying there’s not value in that dynamic (there really, really is — having someone you can love and feel comfortable doing next to nothing around is important and wonderful), but I’m just trying to demystify the whole ~~relationship~~ thing that often feels like surrounded by its own magical fairy dust from observers. Falling in love is exciting but, from my experience at least, it’s one of those things that exists in the extremes of micro and macro. You notice it in tiny tiny things and you acknowledge its larger arc over time. The in between bits haze over and get lost in the everyday.

The point of that point (eyyy) was that relationships aren’t inherently meaningful. My tendency is to think of a romantic relationship as some fated match of kindred souls coming together, but that’s LOL NOT HOW IT WORKS S*PH**. More realistically it’s just two people who were like “sup dude you’re cool I’m cool lets make something together” and then they do and it grows or it doesn’t. And the beautiful part is that thing you make and take care of. Not just the fact that you’re two people who are attracted to each other. And maybe it’s fate but if it is we can’t think of it that way.

And you’re over there in California like “HI HELLO WORLD I AM *READY* TO BUILD THAT MOTHERFUCKING FIRE” and you’re just getting echoes with a side of straight frat boys hollering “pu$$y pu$$y pu$$y marijuana” and it’s frustrating for me that I can't help you more with the literal finding-of-a-person-to-love situation. I can’t manifest a perfect partner for you (would if I could, boo), but I’m trying my best to use this space to complicate some of the assumptions about what the value of a relationship is, and why sometimes we feel such a lack (of love, of security, of power, of time left in our lives to *find* love/security/power) in our lives without one.

The TP/RS thing (wishing you’d had the chance to have an experience like theirs early on — or at all) is actually something that’s come up in my own anxious relationship thoughts. Part of me wants to say to you, “No, those early, stepping-stone relationships are bullshit, timing doesn’t matter, there’s no such thing as ‘learning’ how be in a relationship because it’s different every time with every person, TP and RS probably aren’t any better people or partners for it, etc.” and part of me wants to say, “Yo ok but let’s not try to downplay the significant social capital and external validation they gained from being a public couple at R**s*v*lt and into later high school years. Dating has STRONG inertia, and it’s as easy to slide from relationship to relationship when you’re in one/just got out of one (lol hi hello it’s me) as it is difficult to break out of feeling static when you're single. Though likely not all too deep within the relationship itself, the fact that it got the ball rolling for both of them both in their sense of confidence in dating *and* in others’ perceptions of their respective ~datability~ is legitimate.”

So what I think I’ll land on with the TP/RS thing (you know that I’m just using them as an example to talk about the concept of having dated while still under your parents’ roof, basically) is this: Yeah, not having done it does stunt your growth a little. And I think this phenomenon is particularly common and particularly evident for queer/gay people who were either not out in high school or didn’t date for other reasons. I’ve read more than one ~thinkpiece~ (don’t laugh at me) about the consequences for queer people in particular of barriers to dating during teen years. Maybe this is why the culture of hookups seems to exist for gay men and the culture of “U-hauling” exists for gay women? Like two extremes of dating, either no commitment or a TON all at once due to fear of not having the right “skills” to build a steady partnership?

(I have a huge fucking bone to pick with the lack of safe, non-alcoholic queer spaces for young people. But that’s a topic for another post.)

BUT the area in which not having had relationships stunts your development is one that 1) has been overblown and glamorized in its significance and 2) probably has influence over your sense of relationship confidence more because of external social dynamics that validate couples over single people than because it gives you real life skills that make you a better partner. Did that make any sense? What I’m trying to say is that TP/RS relationships help you develop and that’s REAL but not in the way that you think, and the way that they help you develop doesn’t lend itself that well to the *stuff* that makes relationships juicy and loving and good. More social capital than internal growth. Same with JC/ZH.

On to the stuff that I think makes relationships juicy and loving and good: Vulnerability — the blind trust in someone to take pieces of your literal warm guts and soul out of the part of your stomach that hurts when you’re embarrassed and put them on the table and feel the discomfort and, like, roll in it. Bloody fucking gross but bloody fucking good. The cool misty calm of the patience, space, curiosity that it takes to stay in tact as an individual human and united-yet-not-swallowed alongside another person (you can’t have all of your guts on the table or you’d die, ya know?). There’s a different kind of vulnerability (this is the one that I’m less good at, lmao) in trusting silence and allowing privacy and distance and unknown and allowing for a slower meshing, I guess. Also, willingness to embrace and respect mundane — having enough faith in your mutual connection to know that it’s there even when it’s not right in front of you. Obviously there’s a lot more than those three, but I feel like anything else I could list would kind of fit into one of those categories.

I don’t think any of those skills (can you call them that?) are exclusive to romantic relationships. You can explore those concepts within yourself and notice your own ability to give/receive vulnerable words and actions, your own tendency to desire an all-consuming or all-giving bond with someone regardless of reciprocation (gas refilling?), and what feels scary and what feels safe and why. What are the parts of you that you’re excited/ready to share with another person? What are the parts of you that you want to share with another person but (possibly) feel scared to give? And what are the parts of you that feel so precious that you want to keep all to yourself? What do you want or not want to receive  If there are any ~stepping stones~ toward a meaningful partnership, I think it’s asking yourself these questions.

I hope I’m not getting too theoretical or too preachy here. This is for you but it’s also for me. Putting these words on a page feels nice because shit if I know how love works.

I can’t take away the pain and the SHITTYNESS that comes with watching everyone around you navigate hookups and dating and love while also having unrequited feelings for someone. That’s like a double fucking punch in the stomach. And I also felt like sharing ~practical dating tips~ would be kind of dumb because our environments are so different and I can’t really promise that anything I would have suggested would actually help you get what you want. But I hope these thoughts can at least give you something to chew on? I hope they can complicate some widespread assumptions about what relationships are and why we think (/are told) they’re somehow higher than other forms of love.

Currently, I’m feeling a little too winded by the nauseating Uber pool ride that is my internal life right now to write it all down and flesh it out. Today, things feel calm and relatively stable (by “things” I mean: my mental health and its inevitable connection to how secure I’m feeling in my relationship with PL, my lingering not-relationship-not-friendship-but-not-not-something with ZG, and my attraction to GL — text me if you need explanations of initials, but I think you got it). Last night, PL gave me a packet and reading of five poems from the last few months that all have to do with me/our relationship. I think I’ve told you this, but she’s a published and super talented legit poet, so these aren’t just sappy love poems I’m dealing with here. I cried and I didn’t know how to respond to her poem-words with my mouth-words and I told her that I love her.

The I-love-you thing has been something we’ve opened conversation about before. When I explained to her my complications with feeling like I got into this relationship too fast after ZG and that I’m still dealing with leftover feelings and love for ZG (It’s been an intense couple of weeks for PL and me. Did I tell you about this conversation we had? I also told her about GL — not by name because I think that would make things really tricky, but I told her that I have feelings for one of my close friends), one of the things that hurt her the most was that I was so freely saying how much I still “loved and cared about” ZG when “I love you” still isn’t a thing that PL and I regularly say in our relationship. I told PL that it wasn’t that I didn’t feel that way towards her, but I just didn’t feel ready for whatever reason to say it, even though it gets expressed in different ways.

But I think the real reason why I’ve been hesitant to say it is that in a lot of ways it feels like the last thing I can hold onto about my relationship with ZG. As if only having said “I love you” to one romantic partner ever kept ZG’s and my relationship alive in some way, and that sharing those words with someone else (even if I felt it) would start the real fading-away process of that past relationship.

Last night I felt it, and I said it, and PL said it back, and like… nothing exploded. Love is not finite! You LITERALLY cannot run out. It’s cool. I just have to keep reminding myself that loving a new person doesn’t diminish or disrespect previous loves. Then we had sex on her parents’ couch.

I love you and I miss you and write back when you can.

Sincerely,

Just Wants Lots Of Friends Who Invite Me To Their Parties (aka Y)

[coffeebased]

This is my first “real” post on this blog, so I’m a bit nervous that the WordPress crowd, if they even notice me, will think that my style is a bit too old-fashioned. I’ve not edited much of the actual journal style (it took me a solid hour to remove the header of a mountain range) but I’ve got friends who’ve promised me that I will not remain ignorant of WordPress’ ways for long. I’m still wondering if I should migrate everything here, but the idea of moving nearly 15 years of posts to this blog is daunting, and even if I just move to 2013 posts onwards it seems so tiresome.

So you’ll just have to deal with me without context. I say you’ll, when I have a total of three followers at this point. I’ll live. I should probably take more photographs though, as this post is distressingly wordy and it just seems so much more noticeable on WordPress. Why.

Haven’t read much because I’ve been completing some professional and personal projects. The past two weeks have been especially tight, as my deadlines all converged on one another. I did get to finish everything, mostly to my satisfaction, and now the second term of my PhD studies is over. The past two terms have been amazing, and I’ve learned so much.

Based on my spreadsheet, I only managed to read 5 books in March. April was looking pretty lean as well, but I think things will start picking up now that I’m on break. I have responsibilities to handle during the holidays though, so I can’t let myself binge too much.

I’ve also gotten back into writing creatively, and it’s been very terrifying. I didn’t realise how complacent I’ve become when it comes to academic writing, how comfortable and commonplace it’s become. So when I started writing again it was a wrench. I bothered everyone within arm’s reach, within Messenger reach! to help me become confident enough in my story and writing. My skills are very rusty, but I have nothing to do but practice practice practice until I’ve managed to get some of that writing rigour, that writing muscle tone, back.

I attended Summer Komikon and helped Faye sell their wares, among other things, and it was brilliant! I love selling things, I don’t know why, and I got to meet a lot of people because of it. I didn’t get to go around the con floor at all, so I got to exit Komikon with more money than I entered with, and boy was that a more novel experience than selling at Komikon. Hanging out with Faye was especially fun since Faye’s time has become more precious ever since they moved to Cebu. We’ve got some fun plans for a collaboration, and I’m really excited to get working on that. I would hate to disappoint Faye, and I would like to get that writing muscle tone back.

Picnicstuck is next week, on the 12th, and I’m pretty excited to see all my friends again. It’s going to be very hot, so I foresee a lot of sunburn on my end. I’ve just come out of a terrible bout of dehydration, so I’m going to try not to relapse (or Sunshine will kill me).

Finished Reading:

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Silver Spoon / Gin no Saji Vol. 9 to 13 by Hiromu Arakawa I got into Silver Spoon a few years back when someone recommended me the anime. As per usual, I wasn’t able to keep up with the anime but I did pick up the manga. I caught up with it in the space of a night, and then I had to wait for updates to come around again. So, I put the series to the side and forgot about it. I waited long enough to find out that five volumes had been released in the interim, and it is STILL so good. Arakawa is from a farming family, and boy does it show in the way this series is written. Not only is it informative about FARMING, but it discusses failure and acceptance of oneself in a sensitive and non-preachy way.

The character development is done really well, and the relationships between characters is done deftly. The story and plotting are perfectly lean, as one would expect of Arakawa, and the sheer sense of community she builds in 13 volumes is intense. If you want a series about personal growth, friendship, and dealing with real issues, this is the one for you.

I did find that the latter volumes were paced a bit quickly. Apparently there is a meta-reason for this: Arakawa had to take several hiatuses (she is also currently on hiatus) because she had to care for a family member who is ill, so the pace became inconsistent. I highly recommend it anyway, as that problem is barely visible in the greater excellence of this series.

There are a lot of indicators that this series is coming to a close soon, so impatient readers may as well wait for it to do so.

  Keep a weather eye for more on this blog, dear reader.

This is my first "real" post on this blog, so I'm a bit nervous... This is my first "real" post on this blog, so I'm a bit nervous that the Wordpress crowd, if they even notice me, will think that my style is a bit too old-fashioned.