#I've been sitting on this for a while trying to articulate what I want to say

[buckttommy]

Queerbaiting: using the promise of Queer fan-pairings or Queer characters to lure in a Queer audience without any intention to follow through for the sake of financial gain.

(Relation)ship-baiting: teasing a fan-favorite pairing, Queer or not, to an invested audience without any intention to develop that relationship into romance.

A show/movie/studio can Queerbait without Ship-baiting.

A show/movie/studio can Ship-bait without Queerbaiting.

Learning the distinction between the two is important because—similar to people who use the word "problematic" to describe both Pedophilia and not tipping waiters—no one will take you serious if you don't. You cannot reasonably accuse a show of Queerbaiting when they already have multiple Queer main characters because they are not "teasing" you with Queer representation. They have already followed through on delivering Queer representation because to do so was their intention all along. But you can accuse a show/movie/studio of Ship-baiting when they dangle the promise of a canon relationship in front of you like a carrot on a stick, and subsequently do not deliver.

Both are bad, but different "levels" of bad correlate with different responses, hence why some people get a ticket for jaywalking and some people go to jail for murder.

It's the same principle.

Queerbaiting is cruel and manipulative, designed to target a vulnerable, marginalized audience, and has real-world implications surrounding the refusal to make Queerness visible at the very least, and accepted at the very most. Queerbaiting should be responded to with targeted, intentional fury—not through death threats, but by making it abundantly clear to The Powers That Be (and all those watching)—that toying with Queer audiences is not acceptable.

Ship-baiting is also cruel, but in a different way. Ship-baiting targets a specific group of people (both Queer and Heterosexual, as fandom has always been filled with Straight people too) and does not have any real-world implications beyond ruining your day/week/year. Anger is an acceptable reaction here, but expressing dismay—again, not through death threats—is not the same as accusing an entity/showrunner/etc of an ethical crime.

Please learn the difference.

Fandom (as a collective) has a lot of inherent problems—including but not limited to Racism, Queerphobia, Xenophobia, and more—but I genuinely believe some of the most intelligent, creative, talented, and revolutionary minds that could change the entire face of the Entertainment industry exist here. We deserve to demand respect, and we deserve to be taken seriously, because the more we sound like "unhinged fangirls" when things don't go our way, for whatever reason, the more The Powers That Be are going to treat us like we don't matter. The commodification of fandom was a huge mistake. We were brought into a spotlight that we were never intended to be in, and I don't think we've ever recovered from that. I'm not even sure most people realize this is something we need to recover from. But we can shift the tide in our favor, and that starts by learning the definitions of words and actually using them so that no one—especially not old, white men with power—has an excuse to brush off valid, Ethical concerns as "fandom drama."

[drdemonprince]

Hello Dr. Price I've really appreciated and been informed by a lot of your writing over the past couple years, and I wanted to contribute here: I've dealt with very serious depressive episodes and persistent suicidal ideation for a very long time. My first attempt was when I was 10 and I survived largely by chance. I've attempted a few more times since mostly in my late teens. Now, as a young adult, after transitioning, estranging myself from my parents, and cutting ties with the Church, I've found a way toward a certain kind of peace.

When I did have people around me or speaking to me during very serious suicidal episodes the things that *did* help often came from people who had been in similar circumstances themselves and could guess at my concerns. Overall, I found one of the most important things to assure a suicidal person of is that you are not afraid of their feelings. If one is sincerely trying to offer substantive help, demonstrating that one is not going to balk at mentions or evidence of self-harm, or in similar fashion "other" the sufferer for the things they are experiencing is paramount. There is a powerful shame that often accompanies suicidal thoughts, and being met with a response of disgust or horror will make the sufferer feel that they will cause harm to other people (often people they care about) by being honest about what they are experiencing. Meanwhile the harm to others caused by their suicide might be harder for the sufferer to understand or call to mind in the moment.

Beyond that, I think the most useful thing one can do in that circumstance is to simply provide companionship, to let the sufferer know implicitly that they are not alone and they are not being abandoned by the world. Sitting with them, providing them something to do alongside another person, and not placing pressure on them to be articulate or justify their feelings but to simply keep being a while longer. Death can, and will, wait. It will be there in an hour. It will be there tomorrow. It will be there in a week. It will be there in a year. It will be there in ten years. Suicide is, incontrovertibly, an option. It is not an urgent one. In my own darkest moments on the railing of a parking garage, what stopped me was deciding to come back the next night. I was on top of that parking garage every night for a week and a half. Eventually, I didn't feel the need to climb those stairs again. The goal, in that moment, is not to convince someone life is worth living. It is to convince them to wait. In waiting, they may see another way

This is brilliant thank you.

[manicrouge]

John Price and your hobbies

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 823

I can imagine that Price is one of those people who just embrace everything that you love- why? Because he loves you of course! He loves to see you happy and he knows well that embracing your interests is the easiest way to your heart; all you have ever wanted is someone who likes what you do and he makes it his mission to fulfil that desire.

You're trying out a new recipe while baking sweets? Best believe he will be there helping you taste test every single flavour you make, and when you ask for his honesty, he will give you it. But he will say so softly, he won't try and ruin what you've made, not at all!

Think that needs a little more sugar, love.

Or, when you take up the hobby of writing, he will sit there in the living room, reading quietly while you're curled next to him with your head resting on his lap with your laptop open on the draft you printed just for him to read. And he will read it; he knows how much work you've been putting into what you're writing and he has a genuine admiration for anything you put your mind to. He thinks you're one of the smartest people he has ever met!

I don't know if it's good enough.

Seems pretty fuckin' good to me, sweetheart. My pretty talented girl, eh?

And when he's out on missions, he keeps drafts of what you've written on him for whenever he gets a moment of rest. Being unable to have contact with you for a while is brutal, though, he knows you're always with him in the words you have poured your heart into. You live through your art and your art lives through the articulation of you.

Not to mention when you decide to open a small business, nothing big, to sell art prints and stickers of your drawings... oh my goodness, this man cannot get enough of your creativity. To see you making art so freely and producing it for him to keep is a blessing. You make a new sticker? He'd buy you out of stock just to see you smile (also for his equipment back at the base... he's comfortable enough to rock your dainty flower stickers on the hilt of his knifes).

The fuck is that, Cap'n?

My girl made it, you want one for your throwin' knife?

And when you take up gaming with some of your friends, he'll sit on the sofa, sometimes having you sitting on his lap as you sit with a headset on your head, looking at the TV. It's some shooting game they persuaded you to try, and he sits with an amused look on his face, watching you kill the enemy, the occasional scoff or squeal of frustration escaping you when you get shot.

And when it comes to gun customisation on the game?

He has got you covered!!

Wouldn't it just be better if you could put a suppressor on a shotgun though... like, imagine how effective that would be.

You're overly passionate about this, love.

Yeah, well, you are underly passionate about this and this is something you do for work.

You will have the best gun in the game, and you'll sit with him even when your friends aren't online, listening to him giving you orders while playing- in true Captain fashion, of course. And, he even goes as far as buying an extra controller so he can play the game with you (also to beat you; the pair of you have a competitive streak and he isn't beyond using his expertise to frustrate you).

His heart especially melts when you seek interest in his hobbies and what he likes to do during his time off work. Even if you're not fond of his music, while he's away, you will walk around the house while cleaning with Led Zeppelin and Slipknot at full blast.

You been listenin' to my playlist while I've been gone?

Might've; I want more recommendations.

His eyes light up whenever he hears you humming a familiar tune whenever you're cooking or writing- doing anything, and he'll take a moment to just stand there and observe you with a smile on his face.

And you also both have an agreement with one another that, when he's away, you can with the TV shows the pair of you started together, although, you never do. If you ever want to, you'd rather watch the last episode the pair of you watch over and over again before ever thinking of committing such a crime.

It's the small things in your relationship, even living in the absence of one another that make everything so special, and the intimacy of something as little as interest is the one thing that has the pair of you falling head over heels for all each other over and over again <3

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

[matchadobo]

KIDD; kidd as a father

summary: kidd and name having a baby and how they got through it. tw: slight mentions of abortion(?), pregnancy, cursing, sfw, fluff, fem reader, long af, proofread it halfheartedly JSBDBSNSHHW IF GRAMMAR STINKY IM SORRY

wc: 2127

"what's so damn important that you have to drag me inside here?" he scowled, barging inside your shared quarters.

"this." you threw the pregnancy test at the bed as you sat across the room.

he felt cold when he saw the tiny, rectangle device settling on his velvet, raven sheets. "what the fuck is that?" he glared at it like it was gonna respond, recoiling from it like it was going to bite him.

"you know damn well what the hell that is, eustass." your voice grew a notch higher, starting to boil in anger. "you're not that fucking dumb, are you?!"

he met your fiery eyes before staring at the device for a while and picking it up with sweaty hands. as he thought. two red lines.

"how-"

"don't 'how' me, you bastard." you pointed at him. "who was the one begging to come inside, hah?!"

"just fuckin' calm down for a minute, will ya?" he walked closer, sitting at the edge of the bed, facing towards you. "look at me." he firmly declared.

there he saw how glassy your eyes were, how much horror your eyes mirrored, how much your lips trembled as you tried holding back your tears, how knitted your brows were from fretting. he felt his heart twinge in pain, seeing how distraught you were.

"hey, we'll work this out, ya hear me? don't cry, jesus." he tucked a hair behind your ear, wiping the corners of your eyes with his flesh thumb. "what do you want to do?"

it took you a moment to process his question. articulating your thoughts made your head hurt more.

"we're pirates, kidd. you know how much of a world of peril awaits this child." you started, voice shaking from anxiety. "i-i want to keep it, okay?! i-i'm just scared that the baby wouldn't be able to live comfo-"

"then we'll keep it." he concluded. you looked at him, dazed.

"a-are you sure?"

"if that's what you want then why the hell not." he replied, gaze unwavering.

lately, after you break the news to him, you notice how kidd was growing jumpier than usual when you call out to him. how clumsy he's getting, dropping things and tripping over his steps.

"the hell's up with captain?" heat whispered to you, it has been a week since you broke the news to your lover. yet the crew is still clueless about the situation. "he's been screwing up so frequent, it's uncharacteristic don't you think?"

you tried to come up with an excuse, fumbling over your drink yet killer stood beside you and saved you from the situation. "he just hasn't been shitting regularly." he blurted out. you snickered, trying to stifle your thunderous laughter.

heat snickered shaking his head, leaving you two alone.

"don't worry, i know. i'll let you two announce it to the crew." killer mumbled, subtly nudging you. "congratulations."

"thanks kil, did he tell you?"

he stifled his laughter, "he didn't have to. you know how shitty he is at keeping secrets."

you laughed to yourself thinking about how silly he must be.

"but you know," killer started. "i think the whole baby thing is sinking in to him slowly. look at him, he's gonna trip again." he pointed at kidd who was walking up the stairs and almost missing a step.

before anything could happen, you ran towards him and stopped him in his tracks. "stop! let's talk, okay?" he let you drag him to the an enclosed space.

"is it bothering you, love?"

"the fuck is?"

"this whole baby thing?"

"n-no!" he laughed, masking his anxiety.

"come on, i know you...! killer already knew 'cuz you're dumbass have no idea what subtlety is...!" you flicked his forehead playfully. "other crewmates are getting dubious, it's not like we have to tell them immediately but we have to one way or another."

"okay fuckin' fine, it's screaming in my head. this baby that we're gonna raise and look after is not something i've seen happening in the near future, okay?! being a fuckin' father wasn't in my goddamn bucket list, that's for fuckin' sure! so i can't wrap my goddamn head around the fact that we'll have a brat in nine fuckin' months! how the hell am i gonna raise that fuckin' kid properly?! i've never did anything properly in my motherfuckin' life! i don't even do you properly! so how is it gonna be possible to raise a child-"

"okay, okay, breathe eustass. calm down now." you rubbed his brawny arms comfortingly, massaging the back of his head with your other hand while holding his gaze. "we're doing this together, right? you're not raising this 'brat' on your own, right? don't keep all the responsibility to yourself, love. for better, or for worse remember?"

he let out a heavy sigh through his nose. "for better or for worse." he repeated it like a prayer, your voice singing to him like a lullaby, trying to calm himself down. he sat down the chair, holding your waist close and placing his head to the side, ear to your stomach. "thought your mama was the only one driving me crazy up until now, brat." he mumbled to your abdomen.

you chuckled in endearment, combing through his vibrant, crimson locks. you two stayed in that position for a while, taking solace in the silence and presence of one another.

once you two had composed yourself, you find the courage to open the door only to see the majority of the crew leaning by the it, listening to what was going on.

"the lot of ya are just askin' to get killed aren't ya?!" kidd glared at them as they shuddered in fear, that usual malevolent aura of him instantly reverted back to him from his vulnerable state when he chased his crew members down. at the end of the day during dinner, you two had formally announced it whilst kidd threw eye daggers at each face he saw earlier who was eavesdropping.

during your first trimester, whenever you feel the symptoms kicking in, kidd would ALWAYS go quite nuts at trying to respond to your whines. whenever you snap at him when he mindlessly steals the blanket, whenever you feel fatigued or hot; he nags his crew to get you damp towels and medicine or soups to soothe you, whenever you crave for bizarre food combinations, he'd judge you yet still get you whatever the hell you're asking, going extreme lengths just for you.

"LOVEEE! get me jackfruits dipped in hot sauce!"

"you're a fuckin' monster."

"get that shit or i'll kill you."

the same goes for your second trimester. your stomach started growing even more rounder and bigger, resulting in more pain at your lower extremities; you complained and whined even more. your mood got worse and kidd would do everything to calm it down despite being infuriated with the circumstances.

he'd take you out so 'you could scream at other people other than him' as he put it, he'd give you your favorite foods and listen to your nonsense whenever you'd eat, he'd sometimes go battle your screaming fits with his own acrimonious self and it would lead to difficult nights. yet with each night he'd always lay by your side, let you lay in his arms, encage you in his embrace, give you most of the blanket, and let you talk and talk until you want to because of the baby keeping you up. regardless the time, he'd be awake listening and replying to you.

and one time when the baby kicked, you two shared that knowing gaze. you've never seen so much unfeigned joy in his eyes ever since the time you said 'i do' to him.

he went and rested his ear at your stomach, "ya up at his hour, huh? keeping your mama and i up," he said, rubbing circles with his palms as he followed the movement of the baby. when it finally calmed down, he kissed your stomach goodnight before placing a kiss on your forehead and going to sleep.

kidd had to go to extreme lengths to let law ultrasound you during your third trimester. let's just say deals were placed and he'd have to pay his end of the bargain in the future in this case.

"it's a boy." law declared. you could see how kidd rejoiced, shotting up from his seat, a proud grin on his face.

he'd be stoic, but you see him buy parenting books, staying up late to read the hows of a househusband. you'd see him look at baby toys and decorations whenever the victoria dock on towns to resupply. or stay up even later to secretly work on his handcrafted toys and trinkets for his son at his workshop. you'd peek over his workshop, watching him and feel your heartstrings pull at the sight.

"not gonna sleep yet?"

he'd be startled and try to hide it clumsily, "w-what the hell, name?!"

"c'mon why try hiding it from me?" you chuckled, walking closer to him. looming behind him, you rubbed his stiff shoulders as he leaned into your touch. humming at your tender massages, looking up at you. "it's so adorable, love! when did you get all sappy, huh?"

you heart stuttered at the jewelry in front of you. it was necklace with a turtle pendant, settled at his desk. the pendant was tiny, it spans across the half of your thumb. its shells were made from torques of varying sizes, screws for its legs, stacked torques for its neck, and a mini metal ball for its head.

you held it up, admiring his creation. "you made this just for him?" you uttered, eyes glassy, chest fluttering, and voice full of warmth.

"n-newborns need somethin' to hold onto from their parents, right?" he sheepishly replied, cheeks pink while he fiddled with his tools. "it's somethin' he'd hold dear until he grows up."

melting at his remark, you replied. "really, love? where did you learn that?"

he pointed to the stack of parenting books set aside on his shelves. your heart bloomed in love at his gesture, the fact that he would exert so much of his time and effort just for the baby, for his son that'd be coming in a few weeks. "do you think he'll like it?" you brought your hand to his nape, relaxing him.

"he better do." he pointed at your stomach. when you two saw a kick after, you two chorused in laughter.

and now the labor day came. settled in the polar tang, kidd was giddily waiting outside the delivery room. you kicked him out since he was adding to your stress when he kept pacing back and forth the room.

"do i trust you with this child?" law raised a brow and jokingly keeping his son away.

"do you want me to fuckin' bury you alive? that's my son you're holdin'!"

when he finally had him in his arms, he held it like it was the most fragile treasure he ever laid his hands on. admiring his supple and round face, a tender smile tugged at his lips. as someone being so gruff, it was an unfamiliar sight to see him cradle and be enamored with the baby he's holding.

"you're finally here, brat." he whispered, with words so brash and a tone so sweet and joyous. seeing the baby giggle in joy at the arms of the fiery pirate like him mirrored angels singing at heaven.

followed the nights where the baby starts to violently cry at varied times of the day, more chaos ensued in the victoria punk. from rowdy crewmates to the ear-splitting cries of your son, bags under yours and kid's eyes grew darker.

in the span of seven months, kidd had managed to develop a skill of sleeping while feeding milk to the baby, you had managed to catch him each time and it was the most beautiful thing you had witnessed in your life. him clutching the baby with his metal hand and the flesh one patting his back or holding the bottle, lightly swaying in the rocking chair while snoring silently.

they were physically inseparable. not to exaggerate but, the only time you breastfeed may be the only time you have your alone time with your son. it's not like you're holding it against him, you adore the fact that kidd is so passionate about looking after him. it makes you feel warm and fuzzy all over again. seeing how someone who was so scared of the life of a father is now enjoying himself at the company of his son will be a core memory to you.

and you'd always wonder to yourself; who would've thought that someone so rough around the edges, someone who had so many walls built up, someone so ferocious, could manage to hold and care for his son so delicately?

did this all in one night and proofread it the next day cuz stuff had been hectic WBSYHSHSHS im blooming with ideas rn but theres so much to do for school huffffff

[epersonae]

I wrote this originally as a reblog of something else, but after letting it sit in drafts for a while realized it needed to be its own thing. (but do go read that post, it was what got me thinking in this specific direction) I have not edited it much, other than to remove some intro about the kind of shitty day(s) I was having in my non-online life that were part of why I wrote something and then sat on it.

I have been thinking about

Don't like, don't read

(I saw this with rainbow text, and I asked how the fuck to do that, and frankly I don't have that level of patience, so just imagine it rainbow I guess)

And..........

Sure? We're all just here to have a good time or whatever, and Just Like Stuff, and it's exhausting being a hater (but also [stares at people I know who I've seen say all that and who are also ABSOLUTELY haters in private])

But I want something more nuanced than that. I mean that as both:

a writer of things I know other people have taken issue with (including, I remembered today, something that I heard secondhand about, in addition to the vagueblogging I've mentioned in an earlier post about my older fic)

and a reader/art appreciator who has some issues with things I've tried to read and art I've seen.

I don't what it is or how it works or how to get from here to there. I don't even really know how to do this with people I'm close to! (with the exception of having been a thoroughly obnoxious beta constantly saying "make me believe this could even happen", or pointing out conflicts with canon or whatever) I tend to silently nope out and then change my opinion of the person without ever telling them, because yeah, I'm horrifically conflict averse.

Which is why this might sit in my drafts for a long time.

And then, outside of friendships, and Difficult Conversations or whatever

I don't like pile-ons. I don't like a couple of people trying to articulate what bugs them about a piece of writing, and maybe being awkward or clumsy about it, and immediately getting drowned out by "you're being mean to my friends". (and I say that as someone who has had friends' writing receive this sort of critique! Multiple friends!) Maybe the immediate answer is, yes, the back button, but it has to be possible to dissect what's bothering you about a piece of writing (or a trope, or a ship) without it being negativity or an attack.

Here, I'll go first, because these are two things in OFMD fic that bug me endlessly, that writers I like have written, and I think they exhibit a subversion of the source material that is counter to the actual themes of the show.

Note: since I wrote all of this, I have written a little bit about my sort of complicated feelings about a fic that imho is an original novel in a trenchcoat, a sort of fic lacroix despite being very good. these examples are in the same vein as that.

Inevitable fucking disclaimer: I don't think people are wrong or bad for doing these things, I'm not going to try to make anybody stop, I practice don't like don't read (and I have some exceptions that I've enjoyed despite it being something I don't like generally)

Enemies to lovers: the whole point of Ed and Stede is that they click perfectly and immediately. They like each other! From the very first minute it's friendship and mutual admiration and delight and attraction. Enemies to lovers is a cliche that belongs to a different story entirely. I wish people would think more before jumping to that trope. (I've had an AU in my head for months that I absolutely cannot write until I solve this problem from the AU's source material) It's an interesting question to me, actually, why it seems to be so easy to write characters who don't like each other and then somehow fall in love, when the source material shows them liking each other SO MUCH right away.

Younger than middle aged: again, the whole point is that they are changing their lives, that their midlife crises brings them to the point where they can find love. I think it's a djenks Themes and Motifs thing, to have a story about getting to this point in your life and really looking at it and going "am I where I need to be?" Also it's incredibly unique and special to me after the last few years of my own rolling midlife crisis. (petty thought that I have sometimes: it is a failure of imagination about or knowledge of actual middle-aged people) Tbh, this goes double for age difference, I will nope out of that even faster than both of them being young.

And I think there's something about being able to not like something and still not be a dick about it, to know enough about what you do like to look at something and say "this doesn't work for me and here's why", to engage thoughtfully and critically (and yeah occasionally in public) while still having respect for the other person.

I am thinking also of @emi--rose and @frommybookbook and music, and their efforts to find kpop and Taylor Swift, respectively, that I might enjoy, because I don't like most of either, and I think this thing we've been doing is helping all three of us understand more about what we all do and don't like.

[pausing to think]

It occurs to me, also, that I spent a lot of time griping while editing for the benefit of all the broken hearts, about having to go back and do a lot of set up/rewriting to make some of what happens in that read plausibly. And I was soooooo bitchy about it and also that critique was all correct and it made the story stronger even aside from making it more "canonical", whatever the fuck that means in that particular setting.

And that was in the particular creative intimacy setting of working with a beta, which is different, admittedly, from random critique on the open internet.

But then I spent a while, back in the day, immersed in the TAZ questions of "is Lucretia a lesbian?" and "can Magnus ever love again?" and I wrote my rarepair (and associated polycule shipping) very much from my id, and a certain amount of "you can't tell me that didn't happen" that was based on overidentification and personal experience, but there were definitely people who were pretty publicly "ew" about it, and I had to think through my position, and both decide what felt true about and also decide to write from my weird heart, but not blindly.

Idk, I've written all of this and I'm just landing on

I think introspection is nice.

I think it's good to do, I think it's worth thinking about what you like and don't like, and maybe where that comes from, and not in a puriteen way but with sincerity and curiosity. I would like to support and encourage that spirit of artistic introspection.

[xr0tt3nxfl3shx]

To be human (or worse, prey)

My strange roommate fic!!! (I've never writen fanfiction before lmk what you think [be nice about it though pls])

I have felt quite different lately, a feeling I was once familiar with has taken a new shape.

I live with a man, a human man, one I should’ve eaten a while ago at that. As I walk past my roommates bedroom I resist my hunger, ‘can’t eat him yet’ I thought. I go over my pre-established reasonings for keeping myself in this less than savory situation.

I need to integrate into this society somehow, my roommate is my only frame of reference for human normalcy really. As much as it’d be easier to just eat him now, I cannot understand these people on my own. Clearly there's much to learn if I ever want to move on from merely hunting forest creatures. That's not to mention the payoff, after a long week of pretending to feel things I can't, there is nothing better than fresh meat.

As always I have made it back from “work” right before dusk, and in the same way I am preparing food that I cannot eat. Though my roommate never assigned me this task, it's a necessary part of my contribution. I’ve found humans like it when you make yourself useful, and he doesn’t have the time to do this for himself.

Maneuvering this vessel is more difficult than I thought it’d be. Humans make it look so easy, moving fluidly with every action while I find myself fumbling over every little articulation. They expect you to move even when it’s unnecessary. Apparently not taking part in their hand gestures and arbitrary body language is frowned upon.

Searing pans and mixing bowls rest at the bottom of the sink. I heard his car as it pulled into the driveway, and the lock’s click as he unlocked the door. He greets me at the entrance with a small wave and a polite smile, but only polite. How passive. He still treats me as though I am a stranger. I set his plate in front of his usual seat at the dining table.

He takes his seat and I take mine right across from him and stare as I always do, though I can’t help but get lost in my thoughts. I’ve heard him on the phone, he aspires to get a job he knows is out of reach for him. He listens to music in his room when he gets ready, he says it motivates him. He cares when other people get hurt, even though it doesn’t affect him. All things that I’m constantly reminded are normal amongst people, yet completely foreign to me. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t–

“Hey, are you alright?”

He spoke uneasily.

“You’ve been staring for.. a while now.” Yes I’ve heard of this, staring is considered rude isn’t it? He looks at me pensively, like he's trying to figure me out. It’s the same look he’s been giving me since I cooked and served him his cat last week.

I don’t understand this reaction, why would he raise such a creature if not to be eaten, perhaps he was saving it for one of those special occasions. You know how they are, humans and their special occasions.

“I’m going to watch this new movie, over on the couch,” he says.

Why is he telling me this?

“... if you’d like to join me maybe.”

Oh. This is quite unexpected, maybe I misunderstood our standing. He shifts around, seemingly getting more and more uncomfortable the longer the silence stretches on.

“I’ll uh- I will be in the living room.”

I didn’t think this far ahead honestly, I thought I would’ve eaten him by now. This offer is one I would expect of an acquaintance. Are he and I acquainted?

He’s already gotten comfortable in the living room by the time I come in. “Oh! You actually came,” He wasn’t really expecting me to take him up on his offer was he? He makes room for me to sit near him on the pillow adorned couch, more for decoration than comfort. “I mean, I’m glad. Come sit!”

I sit next to him, awkward movements every step of the way, this place is one I usually only experience in passing. There was never any reason to be in here other than to enter the kitchen. I believe I’ve spent more of my time in his room than here. Admittedly I sometimes watch him at night, controlling my gluttony is no easy feat. At least I can take solace in knowing when this is all over snuffing him out will be no issue. Besides, It's his fault for leaving his door unlocked.

I sit with my hands clasped in my lap. I never know where to put those things.

With a few clicks of the remote he’s signed into some kind of account, playing some kind of film. I am technically looking at the screen but I pay no attention. I can’t while he’s here, just across the couch yet still much too close. I watch him from my peripheral vision, only about fifteen minutes in and he seems to be entranced. It's fascinating how invested he is in this.

Maybe I can settle down a little as well.

I don’t really know when but eventually I found myself invested in the movie on screen as well, and that came with a new-found serenity. Caught in a fictional world, I think for the first time I wasn’t hyper aware of my surroundings or the people in them. Just for a moment I didn’t feel the need to stalk or hunt and it wasn’t life or death. Only for a moment though.

My roommate clears his throat, the unexpected noise was jarring to me in the state I was in. I nearly forgot he was even there.

“The movie’s almost over already, huh?” he said. He’s closer than I remember him being, it would seem we got closer as we adjusted to more comfortable positions on the couch. I don’t like that.

“This is weird isn’t it?” I have no gauge for what’s ‘weird’ and what's ‘normal’ here, but I’ll go along with it.

“Me asking you to hang out with me out of the blue like this I mean. I just had a long day and-” He sighs, sounding quite dejected. It’s not like I have anything else left to do here. it's

“None of my friends have picked up the phone either, I really appreciate you, you know, being here and all that.” I watch the corners of his lips tug into a frown, muscles I haven’t quite learned to use yet, as he runs his fingers through his hair. I scoot just a bit closer, there's this look in his eyes. Something sad, vulnerable even. I try my best to soften my demeanor, to present as something that's not a threat. It does not come naturally.

He looks away, glancing back at the screen, unsure of himself I’d presume. Maybe I can be of comfort. I place my hand on his where it rests on the couch, I try to remain non threatening. This contact feels deeply strange, I can feel every inch of his warm skin from the tip of my fingers to the end of my palm. He might agree given the look on his face. He looks me up and down with widened eyes, is this not how you comfort?

The serenity I felt is long gone but something different has taken hold of me. It's a familiar feeling, quickened heartbeat, amplified senses, adrenaline pumping through me, but how can I, in fight or flight, feel so still. “Oh.. wow. I didn’t-” Hesitance laces his voice. “I didn’t take you for a very touchy person.”

I’m stuck being acutely aware of every little twitch of his hand and every little thing he does yet unable to do anything about it. Something’s changed.

My heart pumps in my chest, there's heat running up my face, a feeling rising in me with every second our skin remains touching. Something must be seriously wrong because as visceral as this feeling is I cannot for the life of me pull away. I can’t help but feel my very life is on the line as he reciprocates my touch and interlocks our fingers.

I feel so though I am suffocating as if something is gripping my heart and lungs, the air is heavy. The silence is deafening, every sensation overwhelming but with my muscles locked in place there's no end in sight. Why does he have to look at me like that, like there's always something he’s leaving unsaid.

And the hints of curiosity in his voice like he wants to know more, he thinks I don’t notice. And why does any of it have to bother me so much? Why does he have to make me care? Maybe I’m becoming weak.

What started in a moment ends just as quickly as his hand slips out of mine. I am already growing cold without his touch. “Again, thank you for being here. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He doesn’t sound so sad anymore at least. My heart is no longer pounding against my chest so hard, though I’m still left to my thoughts, and ultimately I am left feeling empty.

I’d want him to come back and make me whole again if it wasn’t for the horrible feelings that came with. But it's no matter, it shouldn’t be long before he falls asleep and he never locks his bedroom door.

—————

I'm by no means serious about the ship but i think its neat tbh, also nonhuman characters are so real to me so theres that

Hope you enjoyed X3

[shedoessoshedoes]

as always, I have songs (!!) to recommend in honor of elriel month. these are only from the 1975 because truly there is no other group that I think can articulate azriel's (slightly unhinged) thoughts quite as well! the lyrics that make me think of them are in the final parentheses after each song. let me know what you think! (& which artist to do next!) @elriel-month <3

sex (she's got a boyfriend anyway)

fallingforyou (i don't wanna be your friend, i want to kiss your neck)

a change of heart (about mor) (you used to have a face straight out of a magazine, & now you just look like...anyone)

somebody else (trying to convince himself he's fine after solstice) (i'm reminded that i should be getting over it)

the sound (fuckboi az as rhys intended him to be in matty healy's sarcastic tone) (you say i'm such a cliche, but i can't see the difference in it anyway)

this must be my dream (let me tell you about this girl, the one to rearrange my world...this must be my dream (wide awake before i found you))

paris (and oh, how i'd love to go to paris again (and again and again))

be my mistake (after solstice if he tries to drown his feelings) (you do make me hard, but she makes me weak)

it's not living (if it's not with you) (and all i do is sit and think about you and if i knew what you'd do: collapse my veins wearing beautiful shoes, it's not living if it's not with you)

me & you together song (i've been in love with you for ages)

all i need to hear (it all means nothing, my dear, if i can't be holding you near. so tell me you love me--that's all that i need to hear)

happiness (THIS SONG IS THEM) (i'd go blind just to see you. i'd go too far just to have you near...and i'm never gonna love again, hey, no)

about you (after solstice reconciliation) (i know a place, it's somewhere i go when I need to remember your face. we got married in our heads, something to do while we try to recall how we met...do you think that i've forgotten about you?)

when we are together (the only time i feel it might get better is when we are together)

[ruibaozha]

so I've got a question for ya

more LMK specific but since you're well versed in knowledge about him, thought I'd ask

I'm curious on your opinion of the (LMK) Nezha "shipping"?

everyone's weird about it bc of most of his interpretations being eternally 12, and y'know, I've got a neutral opinion- I don't really care if people do because immortals have really fucking weird relationships/demonstrations of age due to being very much NOT mortal, and it's a completely different interpretation, and it also HEAVILY depends on the context, so I'm just kind of all "shrug. do what you wanna do"

but I'm simply curious about what you view from it. :D

So I’ve sat on this for a while because I didn’t know how to properly articulate what I wanted to say. I still don’t wholly know, but I will do my best.

I do not personally care if someone does or does not ship Nezha with others, it is common practice within Chinese social media circles to ship and make fanart of these deities together as it is mostly harmless fun.

Nezha is not an eternal child and has never once stated to be one within his original mythos, documentation of him in derivative works, or in the ways he is portrayed in statues. This is not to deny the existence of a child Nezha as he too has his purpose, but things like his associations with lotus motifs and a number of his weapons are specific to when Canonization of the Gods was widely circulated. This is a topic itself that I have been sitting on but want to properly debunk in the future.

I understand the misunderstandings though. A great deal of information about Nezha was never properly localized into English, and the English language media available of him largely presents him as a child. This is not an excuse for remaining ignorant and claiming to have done research you did not do, as I have seen many defensive and angry fans do.

Additionally, I don’t know where the 12 number comes from. I could not find an example predating 2015 that states this, the only example I could find being Overly Sarcastic Productions’ series covering Journey to the West which is littered with various errors and should not be heralded as 100% factual. If anyone is able to locate an example predating 2015 I will be happy to receive it. I have been trying to find the root of this specific misinformation for a while.

It would be disingenuous to pretend that Nezha/Nalakubara did not undergo some form of change in the centuries he has existed and been worshipped. However it must be acknowledged that both his child and adult self hold important functions in terms of deific worship.

At the time of this answer being written I am currently researching Nezha’s extensive military career as well as his birthday celebrations during the month of April.

To wrap this up I will attach various images of non-child Nezhas. I will not further elaborate on this until I am ready.

[im-a-king-baby]

Hey, I love ELYN 😭❤️

So my two fave scenes/ moments were the 'keep of the lake house for now' and 'I've been in love with him since' so any commentary will be amazing. Any extra stuff will be amazing so 🪻please 😊

Hiii <3

Gonna put these 3 under a cut because length

“So hold onto that lake house for a while longer,” he says. “Okay?”

Context: i wrote the majority of the first draft of ELYN for Nanowrimo in 2022 (basically a challenge where you write a 50k novel in the month of November) and then I rewrote and edited it over a bunch of months.

So this chapter was actually very similar to the original draft, except that in Draft 1 all of the vote fallout was in one chapter which had the Simon scene first then the Nils scene. In the editing/developing process all the non-Wilhelm characters grew a lot so I knew I wanted to expand Nil's role, and add some more Felice which meant I could bump Simon into his own chapter.

(there was absolutely not meant to be a giant posting gap between the Nils scene and the Simon scene. To be completely honest if I'd known I was going to need that long to finish the fic off I'd probably have chosen to put the gap immediately after the debate because... tension 😈)

The main places where the Simon scene got extended was in the details - Simon's life and career was not well thought through in draft 1 and a lot of the extra length across the whole fic came from building that up - but the lakehouse beat was always there because it was important that Simon's rehab process had to be something he did independent of Wilhelm, so this idea of Wilhelm offering up this house and Simon rejecting it, then clarifying that it's a 'not yet' but hopefully one day when he's in a better place.

Wilhelm's 'I keep thinking about the last time you went to L.A.' was not in the original and was one of those character beats that didn't come to me until months later, but that really pulled together Wilhelm's feelings at that moment and his reluctance to let Simon leave, and that then led really nicely back into Simon saying hang on to the house, because hopefully its not goodbye this time.

“Keira asked what was different about you,” Simon says. “I said: I fell in love with Wilhelm when I was sixteen, and I have been in love with him every day since.”

Okay so this part was possibly the slowest part of the fic to write mostly because I was still figuring out how to articulate this ending which was meant to be optimistic but not magic-wand-everything's-fixed-now. This line in particular came about because I was trying to find where Simon was sitting emotionally and ended up writing a very short therapy in L.A. scene in which Simon dropped this line and I was immediately like 'well, that has to get into the main story.'

It's a nice parallel to Wilhelm's 'I'm never going to stop being in love with him.' in chapter 8, and it highlights that the issues between them have never been a lack of love or not wanting to be together, it's always been these outside forces that they need to break away from.

Also its one of those lines that you write down and then you read it and you're like 'people are gonna quote this one back at me' and its nice when you get that right 😅

And on that theme, your 🪻 is:

“Do you want to tell me what you’re thinking about?” This is the worst part of therapy. “Wilhelm.” Keira’s eyebrows twitch slightly, which is the only reaction he ever gets and means he’s surprised her. “We haven’t spoken much about Wilhelm, not since you asked if you could text him. Are you ready to tell me more about what happened between you?” “You could check the tabloids.” Her ‘you know that’s not what I meant’ look reminds him of Candace, except that she hasn’t figured out how to also convey ‘and I’m disappointed and you’re exhausting and you’d be nothing without me.’ “I’d like to hear it in your own words.” Simon absolutely can’t look at her. “I fell in love with Wilhelm when I was sixteen,” he says. “And I’ve been in love with him every day since. He’s the one I think about every time I sing a love song. Still. I have slept with - I don’t know, hundreds? - of people since I left Sweden and none of it meant anything, compared to him.” “What was it like, seeing him again?” He’d been drinking steadily in the car on the way to the benefit concert so that he’d be able to smile and read a teleprompter and not just stand there staring but it was a close thing. After his performance they’d swept him into a room where he drank champagne and smiled for the cameras. Wilhelm had touched a fingertip to his bare shoulder and Simon had wanted him so badly it hurt in places he’d thought could no longer feel anything. He doesn’t have words for that, except that it was like being in love. “He showed me I could do this,” Simon says instead. “That I could get out. That these systems we were caught up in weren’t infallible.” She frowns very slightly. “Do you think he spoke out against the monarchy for you?” Maybe? He offered once. On a cold night in his ridiculous scarf in so many words that it was Ayub who figured out what he was getting at after he’d walked away. But, no. “He did it for him. Because he needed it. And I did this for me. But there couldn’t be an ‘us’ before. Because of all those things getting in the way. And now… and maybe we both did it a bit for that. For love. Or whatever.”

[chynandri]

Why Ibara and Hajime Were Destined to be Partners in a Variety Show

This post will be a bit different from my other ones as I think I've let this one sit for far too long and I just want to release it from the prison that is my drafts!!!! So there won't be a lot of citation, this will be more of a very long ramble/rant! I think I'm finally ready to (try to) articulate my thoughts on how Ibara and Hajime share many parallels, similarities, or just how they compare and contrast as characters!!

As you may know I am a big fan of Ibahaji as a relationship so - I can't guarantee an unbiased view on all this. I'd also say I'm more of an Ibara scholar than a Hajime scholar, but I have a PhD in neither.

I'm just very fascinated by the 'why' behind Bogie Time. I think Akira is talented in drawing connections between all 49 idols. And the way Ibara and Hajime become unlikely friends is a particularly strongly written connection to me.

Let's begin with: Hajime and Ibara's similarities as described in Bogie Time

To understand how profound their friendship is, we must look at their relationship development in Bogie Time.

At the start, Hajime and Ibara could not be more dissimilar.

Ibara is aloof but capable, older, and his usual disingenuous self. Hajime is younger and believes himself to be a bumbling little guy who's in the way. He immediately defers to Ibara on all matters but doesn't know what to make of him. Ibara is laughably confused by Hajime too, because he's literally too genuine of a person - a quality Ibara is not used to, sadly. However, as Ibara does something called 'relating to others' he realizes Hajime is not so far removed from his own world.

In a nice bonding moment halfway through the story that makes a point of sharing their similarities, Ibara and Hajime relate on looking up too much to others and feeling below them.

This is an incredibly important conversation as Ibara who usually doesn't open up about his feelings, does miraculously share why he's been so upset about the show to Hajime. Here marks a great turning point... Hajime can deeply relate to Ibara's aversion to humiliation, having experienced something so crushing as having no audience for Ra*bits debut. This was a formative moment for Hajime. I believe here Hajime sees himself in Ibara... and wants to help.

Another major point of similarity that the story pushes is that Hajime has a cunning side, one that is actually supported by how much Hajime pays attentions to people's feelings and personalities to a point where he can be too dependent on their approval - which is the opposite problem of Ibara, interestingly enough, who forgets to consider people as living sources of information rather than just data and tools.

This is the lesson Nagisa wanted him to learn from Bogie Time. Ibara hones Hajime's cunning so they can advance in the show, as his specialty lies in how to use things and people to their fullest. They're very complementary!

To summarize: the two main similarities Bogie Time wants you to focus on is that Ibara and Hajime both struggle with thinking themselves as lesser than others and that they are intelligent and cunning.

But what if there's other similarities to be found between them beyond Bogie Time?

Now I'll talk about: my interpretation of Ibara and Hajime's other similarities.

These are some scattered thoughts and things I noticed.

Ibara and Hajime's experiences with poverty While they do not discuss this as a similarity, Ibara and Hajime do both come from backgrounds of poverty or being impoverished.

Specifically, Ibara literally had nothing to his name during his childhood and was even more deprived comparably speaking. Ibara often describes himself as someone who crawled from the bottom of society. Hajime's family is poor, so Hajime often takes up part time jobs on campus and makes very simple meals. Or even eats just breadcrusts or grass. The one major point of difference is that Ibara inherited Godfather’s legacy - but despite that he still had to rebuild these assets from the ground up and fend for himself.

I think they could relate on the topic of survival. Even though Ibara's survival is sadly a more severe case, they both have the attitude of making do with what they have. Basically, they both did not have it easy.

As was revealed in Private Room, Ibara learned DIY when he was in the orphanage because he had no other form of entertainment. He's used to fixing and making his own things.

I recently read some old stories where Hajime makes up his own game of sliding on the wet floors of the school when it rains, because his family is too poor to afford many toys he's quite good at making up games to entertain his siblings.

Considering this I was like.... ohhhh... I've connected some dots. You could even say if anyone could understand Hajime's desire to have a partner who would have simple meals with him - it'd be Ibara who has a lot of opinions on eating sparingly. Although his is more motivated on survival and not allowing weak points in a moment of vulnerability, which then morphed into efficiency.

This follows into... Ibara and Hajime's social status

They both suffered from bullying and discrimination toward them at a young age.

Hajime was bullied and excluded by his classmates for being too slow and useless to them. Hajime would struggle for a long time with the inferiority complex this experience gave him, which was only expounded by the failure of Ra*bits debut.

Ibara is an orphan who was implied to be considered equivalent to garbage by society. He is especially motivated by dominating people who used to laugh at him and thus is so afraid of being the target of mockery in Bogie Time.

I think Ibara is a special case where he weaponizes the way society has told him ‘he’s nothing’ over and over again by purposefully poking others and making them uncomfortable by his self-deprecating statements. While I recognize he’s not totally self loathing I feel like there’s a grain of truth to his self deprecation, and is almost challenging people like Anzu to affirm what he has always known anyway so he can continue to justify his cynical worldview that keeps him safe - but it’s definitely an obstacle to having a more growth oriented mindset.

Meanwhile Hajime does all he can to be likeable and gain approval as a good child, and is extremely apologetic for his shortcomings in early stories. Interestingly, Ibara also has this behaviour but on a surface level as he only does it to manipulate people to being useful for him. Although Hajime does have influence because of all the genuine good favour he’s gained from acting this way. In recent stories however, he’s grown more assertive…

Such as this exchange Hajime and Ibara have during a Dream Live because Hajime scolds him for being openly self deprecating to the audience. Again I think this is another moment where Hajime sees himself in Ibara, especially by how he tells him he’s his fan too. Hajime’s self esteem has gotten better because he’s motivated by his friends and fans too, so it just seems to echo that.

Ibara and Hajime's roles in their units

(Using this cg as this section's image because in Happy Spring Hajime is so excited about visiting a nearby town for the first time for a job, he makes a notebook full of research about that town... which they're only visiting for a day or so. It really represents Hajime's fastidious nature and love of information.)

Personally I think Ibara and Hajime are quite similar in being the sensible and practical members of their units, especially when it comes to finances and their meticulous nature in preparing things. They also tend to lose sight of what’s in front of them when they’re too in their own heads. One of Ibara’s biggest pitfalls is getting hasty when he thinks everything is going according to his schemes and victory is within reach. While Hajime can take his daydreams and ideals too seriously, for example getting upset at Mitsuru for not bringing flowers to Madara’s sister as he got too obsessed with his own idea of them being in love in Ra*bits climax.

I also believe they both possess a role of drawing people into their respective units - where Ibara utilizes fanservice in a more mature way, Hajime’s charisma is through his expertise in being cute. Both of these are to an extent personas they use on stage to attract attention.

Ibara and Hajime's gender presentation

This point is directly addressed in Bogie Time. I find it interesting that Ibara’s own feminine features were emphasized - it subverts expectations a bit as Hajime is usually put into the ‘girl’ role. But at the end, it’s Ibara who’s essentially experiencing what Hajime experiences all the time… being perceived as a girl.

Previously, Ibara portrayed the Red Queen in Wonder Game - a female character and the outfit itself has what I arguably consider feminine elements such as the silhouette and high heels. And last year, Ibara was in the bride-inspired White Swan outfit - and in a pose that I personally think can be read as typically feminine (a pose you’d see a female gacha character have perhaps.) So Ibara is no stranger to feminine roles.

I didn’t expect Akira to make this a point of similarity between them, but it’s interesting that he played with this concept and made Ibara cross dressing a focal point of the story and artwork.

I believe that Ibara and Hajime both embrace it, along with Ibara learning from Hajime to not be embarrassed in general and that feminine Ibara cards exist in the first place - and Hajime’s own personal journey as he goes from disliking being seen as a girl, to being ok with it and finding ways to use it as an idol.

Other personality traits

I believe Ibara and Hajime were similarly both troublemakers when they were very young. They also both grew out of this behaviour in response to their environment.

Ibara had a wish to make his life have been worth something and needed to pull himself together for his newfound inheritance. The strict and unforgiving military lifestyle he once hated and criticized became very useful in his role as a producer and businessman.

While Hajime became more well behaved for the sake of being a good older brother and not causing more trouble for his parents. However this may be one of the reasons he has a bit of a complex over people perceiving him as too perfect - which he mentions to Ibara in Bogie Time, and seems to want to indulge in being a 'bad kid' sometimes (thinking of his halloween voice line).

From all this I'd like to conclude that the great amount of connections one can make between Ibara and Hajime is why Akira and his team of writers probably conceived of Bogie Time which is about their relationship at its core. There's a lot to work with, and because I consider this story as a major turning point in Ibara's character arc - this is probably one of the big reasons why they chose Hajime to be the character to spur the needed profound change in Ibara. … besides that Hajime and Ibara were both moderately popular at the time and cute I guess! If you made it all the way here - wow, congrats and thank you for reading!

[chamerionwrites]

hi! hope this isn't too odd, i just wanted to say that i've followed this blog for years and i've loved your thoughtful reflections and comments for a long time. when i first followed you i was in my early twenties and some things you said made me uncomfortable or i instinctual disagreed, but everything you said was so genuine and nuanced that i wanted to keep reading your thoughts. now i'm in my mid to late twenties and my opinions have grown and evolved, and you blog is a breath of fresh. it feels like i evolved with your blog, while reading what you shared! what im trying to say i guess is - thank you. for taking the time to be thoughtful and articulate and patient. it mattered to someone.

Asdfghjkls this is such an incredibly sweet message to send, anon!!! It’s been sitting in my inbox for a bit because I honestly had no idea how to respond, but know that I received it at the end of a Very long day and was bowled over and touched at a moment when I sort of needed a kind word.

Also know that I too am growing and evolving along with my own blog. Not trying to be self-effacing or whatever, it’s just…we’re all muddling along here, I write to process and organize my thoughts, occasionally some of that ends up on Tumblr. On a balance I hope I’m muddling along with curiosity and empathy and open-mindedness. And I also think (I’ve said this before) that what all of those things look like, in practice, often boils down to a willingness to sit with what makes you uncomfortable. That’s a quality I always admire in people, and I think it speaks at least as well of you as it does of anything I might have said in my internet journal/scrapbook/ collection of digital post-it notes.

[supeson]

timid trust, still displaced

part one, part two, part three

You quit your job. Or more accurately, you get a better offer for the same job you're currently doing at another place in the city. It's also closer to The Daily Planet, so Clark uses it as an excuse to check on you more often. You start making a real effort to eat real food. You're still working on actually cooking and making fresh meals, but for now the frozen ready made ones you eat are enough. At least you're eating. It takes you a while, but you finally fall into a rhythm.

*

You decide to stop your antidepressants. You spend a whole session speaking to your therapist about it, weighing the pros and cons. Pro: you haven't really felt like they've been doing anything for you lately with how well you've been doing. Con: what if you stop them and everything goes to shit? Pro: you have an actual support system now to help you. Con: you feel bad making people care about you.

"I wouldn't say you're forcing anybody to care about you," your therapist says. "People choose to care."

"Fair, I guess. I just hate making people worry. I can take care of myself; I'm an adult." She looks at you pointedly at that. "Alright I don't have the best track record but I've made it this far in life and that's gotta count for something."

She taps something into her laptop. "Well, if you do decide to, just know that there is a washout period, so don't be surprised if it takes you a while to feel normal."

*

You go out more. You find that while staying at home is nice and definitely what you prefer, going out for small things can help improve your mood. Even if it's just to the corner store for some chips.

Then Clark gets stuck in deep space for three weeks right before your birthday, and you spiral. It starts small, with minor annoyances making you angry. Then, your new friends at work seem to back off (through nobody's fault, really, but you can't help but feel like it's entirely your fault, and that they don't like you anymore). Your days off become days full of nothing but sitting on your couch trying to occupy your time with multiple hobbies, only to abandon them out of boredom or frustration when things don't go like they're supposed to. You want nothing more than to reach out to Clark, but he's indisposed.

You find yourself bottling up emotionally, unable to cry or articulate your frustrations. You feel stupid for feeling like this, for being unable to reach out to anybody for help. The loneliness is eating you alive, and you're content to sit there and let it swallow you whole.

*

You wake up from another nap to the sound of keys in the door. You heart leaps at the sound, but you roll over anyway, pulling the blankets more tightly around your neck. You feel achy and gritty from laying in bed since yesterday, but you can't find it in yourself to care.

Clark notices the groceries first. There are empty boxes of ramen noodles stacked up beside the garbage, and there are half eaten bags of chips stacked on top of your fridge. The inside of the fridge is almost barren, except for a gallon of milk and one shelf in the door full of condiments. He exhales heavily, having expected the sight, but disappointed nonetheless.

He makes his way to your bedroom, slips on your light, and puts down his bag. He knows you're awake, he can hear your heartbeat pick up when he sits down on the bed. Clark puts a hand on the lump he deduces is you, and you shift, rolling towards him and squinting up at him. You uncover your mouth enough to speak to him.

"Hey, babe." You voice is nothing more than a croak, from sleep and disuse.

"Do you want to talk about it now, or later?" Is all he asks in response.

You bristle, ready to go on the offense, then close your eyes and take a deep breath. "Not really."

He nods. "How can I best help you right now?"

You think. You gut response is to get angry, tell him to leave. But he loves you, you remind yourself. It's not fair to take my terrible mood out on him. "I have a headache."

"Okay, when was the last time you ate and drank anything?"

You silence speaks volumes.

Clark peels back the blankets, untangling you for the first time in a while, from what he can tell. "Okay, let's head to the kitchen and see what we can find, okay sweetheart?"

You're embarrassed by the backslide, but Clark is nothing more than helpful, willing to wait until you're ready to sit down and have a discussion with him. It makes your eyes water knowing you have somebody that cares about you in all aspects, and not just what you can do for them. You blink back tears as you clutch him, stumbling down the hallway together.

[jehanne-gaudet]

Authentic Louisiana Gumbo

Cooking time: 90 minutes

Growing up in South Louisiana I always heard about my family's older generations living in New Orleans. My mom moved to Baton Rouge in her 20s, but we're New Orleanian through and through– we have our roots traced back to Acadia, Gaudet is our family name. In highschool my mom taught me how she and her mom and her nana made their gumbo, but a few conversations will tell you that there's more "right ways" to make Gumbo than there are creole people. Here's my right way.

GATHER YOUR INGREDIENTS: I always heard that your mom was my mom's midwife when I was born, but we didn't know each other really until highschool because you lived in Lafayette. I changed my name to Johanna Gaudet during my transition, which I guess you learned through Facebook. You also chose your name when you transitioned: Marcus. Marcus Gaston. (Not like the Disney villain, it's pronounced like "GA-stun", not "ga-STAWN".) When you transitioned at 17 your parents kicked you out of their house. I transitioned while I was away for college but I guess that was around the same time, me being older.

PREP THE INGREDIENTS: In February I got a call from you. You were crying in the parking lot of the Rouse's because you'd bought some random things hoping to make gumbo based on the Emeril Legasse cookbook, but the more you grabbed the more you realized it wasn't right. You couldn't even articulate what was wrong, because your mom never taught you her gumbo recipe before she kicked you out and stopped talking to you. You tell me you feel like your whole childhood was taken from you. You tell me you hate this fucking state and can't wait to move out to Seattle. All words I've said or thought before. My dad is from Texas, he used to forbid my mom from cooking Creole food or even taking us to New Orleans where she grew up. He wanted us to grow up as his perfect white American status symbol children, and our actual heritage would have made us dirty. Joke's on him, he never expected gay and transgender kids. My mom taught me how to make gumbo after the divorce, and after I stopped talking to him. And talking about my mom's recipe some, we decide I'll come over to teach it to you. It's not your childhood or your family, but at least it's a childhood to make up for what was taken from you, the way it made up for what was taken from me.

GETTING STARTED: At your apartment, I do tell you that you won't need the shrimp. It's a chicken and sausage gumbo my mom taught me. There's other kinds, black Creoles brought over Okra gumbo, native Creoles adapted it to Filé gumbo, and my people (the formerly-French Acadian Creoles) adapted it to be made with a roux. Seafood gumbo usually is done with okra, at least in my family. I don't know where we got that recipe from– Creole people have been all mixed together so long– but pairing seafood with okra is how we do it.

PROCESSING THE CHICKEN: You'll want to start with taking out your WHOLE CHICKEN. Not leg quarters or breasts, a WHOLE chicken, WITH giblets. Just from memory, this is how to process it. You'll start by pulling the wings up and cutting along the white line of fat, and then between the bones. Next you'll pop the legs out of their hip sockets by bending the thighs opposite from how they're supposed to sit, and cutting along the fat line between the thigh bone and the hip socket there too. Next is the part I never totally remember, I think you pull the torso as open as it goes and try to cut along the fat lines on the side of the torso, starting opposite the ribs and going forward? But at some point you'll hit ribs, and I always just try to go around them. Maybe there's an easier way, I don't remember. Anyway at some point you'll get to the clavicles at the front of the chicken, and you just have to break those. My mom taught me to do it by setting the knife blade on one and just hitting the back of it with your hand until it breaks. Finally, try to cut the breast meat out of the breast bone. This is a huge pain to do, tbh. I think there's a way to split the chest bone in half and leave some bone and cartilage on there, but I just try to cut out the meat as close to the bone as I can. It's imperfect, whatever.

BROTH: Go ahead and put the breasts and leg quarters aside, but set the rest of it (mostly just wings and bones) in a big pot with the giblets. Cover it all with water and set it to boil on a low heat. By the time you need broth, this will have turned into broth. You can also supplement with even more broth from the store, if that's your inclination. I do it sometimes for no particular reason.

THE HOLY TRINITY: Anyway then we gotta cut the vegetables. Onions, green bell pepper, and celery. This is called the Holy Trinity. Actually, there's a 4th one, and it's garlic? My mom used to say that the Holy Trinity is those 3 vegetables, but the Whole God is Garlic. To me that reads hilariously like the Heresy of Partialism, but it's fine, she converted out of Catholicism as a teenager. She only pretends to be Catholic now. Anyway how much of each of the Trinity veggies? Idk, I always kind of eyeball it. I'd say like equal-ish parts of all 3, but it should be 2 or 3 cups all together? Maybe more onion than the other 2? And you definitely want a lot of veggies, because they can disappear in a gumbo. But again, just eyeball it. This part also takes the longest, it's so annoying. My mom would make me do this part when I was young so that she didn't have to, and I sometimes make my wife do it. But also you can get store-bought trinity that's already cut. As a rule I don't like store-bought stuff when I can do it myself, but I still do it sometimes.

SEASONING THE CHICKEN: Okay assuming that's done, time to season your chicken. The ones you set aside, the breasts and leg quarters. Try to get the seasoning under AND over the skin if you can. Idk if that makes a difference, but I always heard it does. I keep the seasoning here simple. Salt, pepper, Italian seasoning, and cayenne. Eyeball the quantities, but know a lot of this gets cooked off into the roux, so too much won't hurt you at this stage. You'll want to get a big gumbo pot and cook the outside of the seasoned chicken. Oh, you used your only big pot for the broth. No worries I brought mine. I'll get it from my car. It's one of those dark blue pots with the white speckles on it. Dirt cheap, thin metal, but it's big and does the job. Anyway, put some olive oil in there and cook the outsides of the chicken on a high heat. Doesn't need to be cooked all the way through yet, you can take it out after a minute or so.

THE ROUX: Now we get to the actual hard part. Roux is easy to burn, and my family does it dark. Advice online often says not to do it too dark to make sure it can thicken the gumbo more, and that makes sense, I've heard that before. But my family does it dark. Like Dark Chocolate dark. I also do a LOT of roux. Roux tastes good in the final gumbo, so don't skimp. I empty your bottle of olive oil into the pot, and I bring out my bottle from home too to add some more. I brought it because I knew I'd feel bad using all of yours. You want probably like 1/2 an inch of standing olive oil at the bottom of the pot, at med-high heat. Then the flour, we want enough of that to make the roux thick. It's gonna seem too thick at first, but don't worry, it thins out. And you're gonna sit yourself over that pot in the high heat with your bamboo spatula and scrape the bottom of that pot as it gradually gets darker. Keep going until you can barely tell through the steam that it's not totally black, but you're getting afraid you've burned it. I want to be clear though, you are scraping every inch of the bottom of that pot. If you ignore one part too long you'll notice that the flour settles real low in the oil and starts to burn. So you scrape every part off, and you scrape fast. Early on you can scrape slow, but as it gets dark you gotta speed up. Probably wear a mitt too, because the oil is gonna splash and that hurts. As it gets darker I get a little nervous and drop the heat to med.

ADD THE HOLY TRINITY: While you're doing that I'm getting all the Holy Trinity we chopped together in a big bowl. Once it hits dark chocolate brown, I tell you to scooch over in a panicked voice, and then I dump in the holy trinity. Then I ask you to keep mixing it up while I get a glass of water to dump in there to cool it down so the roux doesn't burn in the residual heat. I don't get the glass glass, I get a Mardi Gras glass, obvi. I also lower the heat to med-low. At this step you notice the roux has lightened a lot. It's milk chocolate brown, now that the Trinity is in there. I add another glass or two of water as it cooks down, just to make sure the texture stays like a paste that clings to the vegetables. I tell you to keep mixing it while the Trinity vegetables cook and the onions turn clear. I add a whole mess of minced garlic too.

PUT IT ALL TOGETHER: Anyway now we add that broth. You're really supposed to skim off the foam at the top of it, but I don't always. But you should. I do it in front of you, to set a good example. And then we pour the broth over the trinity and roux trying to keep the chicken scraps from falling into the gumbo. We mix it until the roux disappears into the broth. I realize we forgot to cut up the Andouille. I tell you how annoying it was to try to find Andouille while I was in Alabama for college. There was one brand, Savannah, which was pretty good though if I could find it. People were so weird about Creole stuff in Alabama. I never fully "got" cultural appropriation until I heard rural Alabamians at a crawfish boil talk about my home all while exclusively calling me anti-Creole slurs. We use Kiolbassa's Andouille though, which has a special nostalgia for both of us. I used to wake up at 2am and cook an Andouille sausage to eat as a snack or on bread. It's like the ultimate comfort food. We cut them up into discs and toss them in the gumbo. I've heard that the sausage can soak up some of the extra olive oil from the roux, but I don't really know. Maybe you have to do something special for that to work. We toss the chicken pieces in too. They'll need to cook in the gumbo to soak up the flavor, but also to cook the insides of the chicken. Remember we just cooked the outsides.

SEASON TO TASTE: We also toss in some seasoning. A couple bay leaves, salt, pepper, Italian seasoning, cayenne. You add paprika because you're suspicious of ONLY cayenne. Like won't that just have a front of mouth burn? Some paprika would help to push it backwards. Balance it more, you think. It's sound logic, I might have to do that from now on. Then we leave it to cook for a while. It already smells awesome…

RICE: Wait, shit, we forgot the rice!! Okay, we make the rice. You know the trick right? Like about measuring rice? You can measure the correct amount of water by sticking your knuckle into the water down to the top of the rice. The water should cover the entire thickness of the middle section of your finger. Which is all good and well but you have a fancy Japanese rice cooker so you just use the measuring cup that came with it. I tell you my family used to have a rice pot. Like a normal sauce pan, but we used it specifically for making rice and we sometimes left it on the stove (with a lid on it) in case we needed to reheat the rice for something. I have since heard that this was very unsanitary, but it was tradition in my family, and I just think it was cool. Anyway, we start the rice. The wait is fine honestly, this will force us to let the gumbo stew for a bit. One time, during the 3 week power outage after Gustav, my sibling learned how to make rice on a propane stove. They were so good at it, never burned a single pot. Crazy, right?

LET IT STEW: We start talking about this childhood thing. The heritage thing. You should check out Butterfly Soup, it's this queer visual novel by Brianna Lei. Or, specifically the sequel. It's about being Asian American, and like I would never want to try to claim that experience (esp as a white Creole) but there's a lot in there I think you'd like. It's like, y'know our heritage, our culture... it's not just something we're just given and have to accept. How much did we lose when we transitioned, and our families cut us off? It feels sometimes like if we want to be queer the "right way" then we have to move to the PNW, or San Francisco, or New York and work in tech and act like those terminally-online people on Discord. And if we want to be Creole then we have to be cis and straight and conservative, like your Nana who posts Q-Anon shit on Facebook. But the thing is, we don't JUST inherit our heritage. We are active participants in it. We create our culture as much as we experience it. It doesn't need to be transphobic, y'know. It doesn't need to be racist. We don't need to let ourselves become southern Americans and we don't need to accept creoleness as it was. Ain't WE Creole? It's like the gumbo, y'know, like we got our recipe from our families, but it's OUR recipe now. Our parents passed it to us, but it's our culture and our recipe to pass on. We can decide what it means to be "authentic" gumbo. And we can decide what it means to be "authentically" Creole. And that can mean trans, or gay, or whatever. And you can put the tomatoes from your garden in your gumbo if you fucking want to, it's your gumbo. It's our culture, and that's who we are, isn't it? The culture is us. The rice maker starts singing its beeping rendition of twinkle twinkle little star.

ENJOY: God this gumbo really is so fucking good. My mom really knew what she was talking about, like, sometimes.

[drdemonprince]

I wanted to thank you for Unmasking Autism. Beyond the content, which is both extremely relatable and extremely insightful, I am overjoyed with how much listening to it has pulled me in and kept me engaged. I have struggled with reading or even listening to audio books since my diagnosis because my ability to read and process information was the biggest casualty of the intense burnout that began when my mom died in 2020 that ultimately led to my diagnosis. Reading just broke for me, and it's been gut wrenching.

This is the first book I have attempted to read or listen to that I am devouring the way I used to devour books, and it is because so much of it is relatable and articulated in a way that resonates. The way you write about your experiences is so similar to how I describe my own, even when describing traits where I present very differently. You understand and recognize the incredible nuance and intersection of autism and other parts of identity and life experience, but you present it in a way that is understandable and relatable. The infinite complexity is acknowledged and embraced without the explanation itself being needlessly complicated.

Unlike every other audio book I have tried, I rarely find myself having to rewind to try to parse something that didn't make sense on first listen, which is filling me with such joy because I have struggled so much to recover my reading ability and while audio books have been somewhat more accessible because my visual challenges aren't an obstacle, it's still been such a source of pain to struggle to understand and process books. It felt like losing something that was a huge part of my life and a major form of emotional self care.

I plan to read the text version once I finish the audio book. The way this has woken up parts of my brain that felt locked away is giving me confidence to try to break into the rest of those walled off areas again. It might sound hyperbolic, but it feels like you fixed part of my brain that I thought might be gone for good. This is the book I needed right now to feel more like myself. It needed to be this topic, something which has been central to every aspect of my life for so long and which I am still trying to understand. It needed to be written this way, with a voice that is clear and direct. It needed to be written by someone who's understanding is personal but also communal, someone who understands the intersections of identity that lead to inequity and hostility for marginalized communities.

I really needed this right now.

Thank you so much.

This is such an immensely lovely comment to receive, I've been sitting with it the last few days not knowing what to say. I'm really glad you've found a way to enjoy and reconnect with reading and that you're feeling empowered to do more.

Over the years I've had long lulls between being able to enjoy any books, video games, or even music at times, and losing an ability to access a type of joy I once considered a big part of me is very tough and deadening. But rediscovering those passions and the ability to take them in and appreciate them is like coming back alive.

(I just had that kind of deadened lull recently with gaming-- because of the medium being associated with my ex, I havent been able to enjoy it the last couple years for myself.

but then i rediscovered the passion of being swept up with a wonderful, thought provoking game on my most recent play thru of disco elysium and fuck, the dora conversation had me really tearing up. and all the conversations about ideology in the game have me feeling passionate about political psychology, a field i studied for years and then abandoned, for the first time in a long, long while.)

Sending you well wishes and hoping that anybody else who is reading this who has been unable to enjoy their passions the past few years finds a way to reignite that spark again soon, too. I think lockdown and the breakdown of regular daily rhythms combined with increased social media usage made it very, very hard for me to gear shift into enjoying challenging art for a *while*, and from what i've seen and heard many people are reporting the same. may it all come back for us.

anyway, yeah, thank you for telling me. im glad my book was able to help get you back on the road to enjoying books. i was very intentional when i was writing it about signposting everything that i was going to say and explaining things both thoroughly and clearly, trusting that the reader could understand and find pleasure in groking all the the scientific work and sociopolitical argumentation so long as it was presented to them in sensible way. i was so fortunate that my editor allowed me to really get into the weeds and parse through the nuances of many topics while also encouraging me to put things plainly and compassionately.

i dont know if my next book is quite up to snuff in this regard yet -- it's really dense, and i seem to have lost some of the ability to slowly break down complex topics sometimes lately, so your message is a necessary reminder to put in that work. if i can't explain something simply, i dont yet understand it, and that means i have some more work to do.

[hikennosabo]

trimax vol 13 random thoughts (ch 5-9)

part 1 here!

chapter 5:

okay, it took me way longer than it should have to figure out what happened in this scene, lol. razlo gets behind elendira and blocks her nail gun with the nail that's already in his body which jams her gun and pushes the nail further into his torso which takes them both by surprise.

"some dumbasses"?? do you mean wolfwood and vash?? LOL

come on, come on, come on!!! he's so cute, lol. he's like a dog who wants to play.

i love watching razlo fight!!! it's so fun seeing him fight a different way due to not having his punishers/third arm anymore. he's having so much fun too, it's infectious~

UNTIL ELENDIRA USES A PSYCHIC ATTACK ON HIM. JESUS CHRIST. THAT ONE ALMOST HAD ME.

chapter 6:

ma'am could you please stop serving cunt for a second i'm trying to read manga and you are distracting me

AAAAAGH AND THEN SHE BLASTS HIS LEG OFF. THAT ONE WASN'T FAKE THAT ONE WAS REAL. he'll be okay but :(

CHEKHOV'S VIAL?!

uuuueeee... wolfwood... just seeing the little panel of him... i miss him so much... and the reminder of wolfwood brings livio back out. ueee... waaahhhh...

i'm sitting here trying to articulate my feelings about livio and razlo and i can't, really... :') livio feeling so bad and apologizing that he has to rely on razlo so much, razlo doing his best to encourage livio... they really care about each other a lot. it's very sweet. i care them. :(((

oh this is so very much not how DID works but it's both cool and important to their character arcs so it's FINE!!!! it's fine

huuuhhhmmmmm something something symbolism in livio's guns being reversible and livio and razlo working together, two as one... is this anything? am i connecting any dots here?

they were able to bring elendira to her knees with their teamwork!!!!

chapter 7:

uwaaahhh! young livio flashback!! this is where his twinky stampede self came from i guess. i hope season 2 gives us a beefier version-

...wait. wait, wait, wait, wait, wait wait wait. hold on. speaking of stampede. give me a second.

*returns 30 minutes later* HUH. INTERESTING. so stampede shows us livio working hard in EoM to catch up with wolfwood, but in the manga, it's all but outright stated that he's trying to catch up with razlo.

sorry i'm just fascinated by the tristamp/manga differences and seeing younger livio doing pushups reminded me (stamp!livio does pushups the same way!!)

we're not supposed to know that razlo exists yet in tristamp; i wonder if or how season 2 is going to reframe any of this. it's not like i dislike livio and wolfwood's relationship in stampede!! i think it's really sweet, introducing livio into ww's story earlier is a good move, and livio joining EoM to catch up with ww makes everything in the relevant episodes more emotional. but the relationship between livio and razlo is just as important!!

razlo encouraging livio is SO cute, uwaaaahhh...

WAAAHHHHH!!!! I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH!!!!!

babygirl, please, i am begging. why are you so sad. tell me who hurt you. i am on my hands and knees.

to him... while drinking wolfwood's last vial... i am going to fucking throw up i feel so normal about this

chapter 8:

elendira, killed by her own nail... oh girl... my beloved... i did not expect her to live but i'm still sad she's gone. what a fantastic fight though. might be my favorite fight in this manga.

also livio's gonna have an interesting time trying to get up and get her off of him once his limbs regenerate... uh... if they can regenerate? i'm assuming they can...

i am gonna fucking CRYYYY... calling him by name... wwwaaaaahhhhh...

he would be so proud of you, livio!!!! WAAAAHHH!!!

okay, time to cut back to my other faves having their own battle.

it's so funny that legato thinks this. dude, she hates your guts. if she knew she was gonna see you in the afterlife soon she WOULD worry.

huh? that's her name? like the painting?

also i've been wondering this whole time why she looks like that. like why is she designed to look like a woman. did legato design her himself?? is this his aesthetic sense??

haha ouch! thanks for spelling out the metaphor so plainly!

ahhhh, july flashback... this was uhhh... *checks* ten years ago. supposedly. i'm not sure how much i trust the timeline anymore.

actually i do wonder how measuring time works on this planet. like, everything seems to be measured the same way it is on earth, so does noman's land also have 365 days in a year and 24 hour days?

he's so cute, i am holding him gently in my hands.

knives is so mean... to be just a tiny little bit fair to him, i too would be low on patience if my brother just blasted me with a death beam and someone suddenly started handling my guts that were hanging out. but he's so mean!! i feel bad for legato!!

i AM surprised that knives is still conscious... and that he's still mostly intact. like his guts are hanging out but it looks like his legs and arms (or at least one arm) are still attached, and he's still got. y'know. most of his skin. certainly more intact than his stampede self, lmao.

vash, honey, what on earth makes you think he plans on living through this fight any more than you are. :')

i just like this spread.

chapter 9:

OH BOY, HE'S FERAL!!! truly, he is going out in a blaze of glory just like he wanted. i wouldn't expect anything else from him at this point.

ahhh... stampede!legato talks a lot about discarding emotion in favor of devotion. but emotion and devotion are intrinsically linked. legato is a pretty emotional person, he cries a lot and yells a lot... as long as he can express his devotion to knives, he feels like he's fulfilling his purpose, so he's happy... i'm glad he's having fun at least... :')

WAAAAHHH VASH IS REMEMBERING WOLFWOOD NOW... his face is not quite visible but... vash is remembering wolfwood's words because he's thinking he really is going to have to kill legato to end this fight... killing legato just like in the 98 anime...

i get caught up in the action, but every time they bring wolfwood up i realize how much i miss him...

this panel fucks.

i love watching legato go fucking crazy fighting. i wanna see this fight animated so bad :''')

when i read the top panel, i was like, "because of knives, right?" then i read the bottom panel... ahhh... not just knives... every plant... it's a good thing tristamp established this relatively early because we don't really see vash doing this in the story lol

i'm remembering "do you think we can become friends with them?" "yeah... it might take a lot of effort though..." :'''')

chronica, girl, i know you're very angry with knives, but as far as revenge goes, you need to get in line. you got here like five minutes ago, there are other people with much longer-lasting beef than you who deserve a shot at him before you.

the smallest meryl u can imagine...

WAAAAH this is so sweet, they love him so much :(

i said this already but i LOVE seeing legato go all-out, it's cool!! it gets me pumped up!!! this is just... such a good fight!!!

wait, is the earth ship falling because chronica used up so much energy firing the cannon multiple times?? GIRL...

THIS PAGE FUCKS!!!

THIS SPREAD ALSO FUCKS!! the way that the debris fades out above them, they're only focused on each other...!!!

final thoughts... i'm surprised legato survived this volume?! i really thought he would die in this one... he lasted longer than i thought he would, not that i'm complaining... UUAAAAAGHHH i am gnawing on my arm rn, i can't believe there's only one volume left?! i'll be finished *checks day* TOMORROW?!?!? if i don't procrastinate on reading... which i might do because i don't want it to be over... waaaah...

how will knives be defeated? can humanity survive? will livio's limbs regenerate? and most importantly, HOW WILL VASH GET HIS WILL TO LIVE BACK?!?!

[gavisuntiedboot]

Hey I was just wondering if you could link some articles about everything israel has been doing to Palestine in the last 16 years (so basically the time Gaza’s been an open air prison) bc tho I’m pretty invested in politics the media in my country hasn’t been covering this whole situation in Palestine apart from this past week (and the bigger attacks from a few years back) and even then the articles are pretty clearly pro israel so I do know to a certain extent what the situation is and has been like between Palestine and israel (the basics of these two countries’ history since WW2) but not the details and I’d like to inform myself

Unfortunately the media in Canada the UK the United States (obviously) and France (again this isn’t really surprising) isn’t really good at covering what’s happening in the Middle East so informing myself objectively and via reliable sources on the history of these places (when it doesn’t affect the western world) can be a bit hard I genuinely spent a lot of fucking time researching the subject but I just haven’t been satisfied with what I found (it’s all really repetitive and it doesn’t really cover the details tho I did find some really interesting articles written by Palestinian journalists) I did try watching documentaries but they all cut out the more awful parts of history which kind of really sucks (the one thing that was easier to find and that conveyed good and objective info is the statistics of the conditions Palestinians in Gaza have been living in)

If you don’t want to that’s totally fine feel no pressure about doing it but if you don’t wanna link articles could you maybe pls talk about what you know and again no pressure

Hello lovely,

So this has been sitting in my inbox for a while because I've been busy (school, protests, funerals and vigils, etc). I decided to respond to this one because I think the ask is framed very well.

It is common knowledge that Israel puts forward a large media and PR effort to hide the atrocities being committed. There is a huge monetary fund dedicated to this - what other country pays fully for college students to come for week-long trips and see how wonderful the country is? The entire regime is built on propaganda, and I think it's important that everyone try and dismantle our reliance on one or two sources of media. In school, we are constantly told who are the "reliable" sources of information, but in times like this, when the media and press are so controlled, look at the best and most reliable source: primary sources. I encourage you all to follow people who are on the ground in Gaza like Motaz Azaiza, who is on the ground in Gaza and has been for several years. I also encourage you to follow Mohammed El Kurd, who is from Sheikh Jarrah in occupied Jerusalem. He is brilliant and articulate and doesn't mince words, and he has done dozens of interviews and talks about the plight of Palestinians, both at home under occupation and in the diaspora. For news, I think one of the best sources has been Al Jazeera, which is a Middle Eastern news reporter. It is banned in some countries, but they release the most accurate information about what is currently happening. Many of their journalists have just had their families wiped out for the work they are doing.

In regards to what you can watch, there is a plethora of Palestinian film that you can consume. The ones off the top of my head are '5 broken cameras' and 'Omar', which are both critically acclaimed, brilliant films on Palestine. Here is a link to more documentary than film style pieces on Palestine: https://remix.aljazeera.com/aje/PalestineRemix/films_main.html

There are many YouTube videos on the subject as well. A very good article is the one published in n+1 by Saree Makdisi.

I personally don't have many articles to share, because everything I know about my home and my people was told to me by my family. So, allow me to share with you a little bit of my life story:

My grandfather was born in a small village in Palestine just outside of Nablus. He would have been about 8-10 years old when the Nakbah happened. Nakbah is the Arabic word for 'catastrophe', and it describes the displacement of 750,000 Palestinians in 1948. My grandfather was not one of them because of how far in the West Bank he was. He remained in Palestine, trying his hardest to flee despite the immense debt that his own father had passed onto him. He worked in shops. He picked olives from the hundreds, if not thousands, of trees in the village. He was trying to save himself and his 12 siblings, all on no income and a 4th grade education. There was no more school when the occupation started.

My grandmother was born in the neighboring village. She was looked after by two brothers and a father that would have torn the world to shreds for her. She met my grandfather when he came to help repair their home. They were married young, around 19, and they had their first son, my uncle, in their home in Palestine. The occupation got worse and worse, with people having their homes invaded, guns to their faces, being told to leave. My grandmother fought one such settler, and they took one of her beautiful green eyes for it. My grandparents tried everything they could to keep their house in Palestine, but it was no use. They had to flee to Kuwait (twice actually), a journey that takes 72 hours nonstop on foot, in order to not be killed by Israel. My grandmother took her house key with her, thinking she would need it to open the door when they were able to return. And that key still sits in her house, staring at her and her 8 children and 30 grandchildren who have never seen our home in Palestine.

I fortunately don't have direct family in Gaza, but I have living family that fled Palestine. I have so many family members who will never be able to see our land in our lifetime. Our house is gone. The olive trees are gone. Everything that my grandparents knew of the world for a quarter of their lives is gone. How long until we are gone? How long until the plan is successful, and our young are murdered and our old left to die so that Israel can say that Palestinians never existed in the first place?

Between three of my friends, they have lost 100 family members. Between Palestinians, we have lost over 7000 people. Civilians. Children. Mothers. Fathers. Neighbors. People. I want to educate, I want to be a voice and rally, but I can't do it every day. I'm struggling with the guilt of being alive as a Palestinian right now. My entire bloodline, my history, is being wiped off the face of the earth before my eyes. And I'm sorry I can't be more help.