#and you can move forward

[mrtheinsatiable]

Starting to realize I've been unnecessarily resistant to a lot of ideas because I was just looking at them from an angle I didn't like

The idea of a "purpose driven life" is one of those things. The whole "I was Created for a Purpose" thing didn't vibe with me and also kind of pissed me off and that was pretty much the only context I had for the idea for a long time. And even the more secular version where I create my own purpose didn't work either because I've never felt like I had any particular calling or thing I Have to Do. It also feels dehumanizing to think of it that way, to a certain extent, to have a specific purpose or use like a tool or an object.

But actually a purpose driven life doesn't have to mean Having a Purpose it can just be "doing things on purpose." Life becomes a lot easier and also more fulfilling when you act with intent instead of just letting yourself loose in the day. It's hard to get your shit together when you're winging every second. A sense of purpose doesn't actually need to be deeper than that, I think, to positively influence your life

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[rollercoasterwords]

the tiktokification of ao3

or: some of you fundamentally misunderstand ao3 and it really, really shows

i was talking about this with a friend a few days ago and since then i've seen multiple posts of various sorts that have just made me think about it more, so. here is me breaking down a disconnect i see particularly with younger members of the marauders fandom (i say marauders specifically just bc that's the only one i'm plugged into):

okay, so i've seen many (usually younger) marauders fans either talking online about how they wish ao3 was more like social media (specifically regarding algorithms) OR talking about ao3/fanfiction/fanfic writers as if they are operating under the same etiquette/guidelines/assumptions they would bring into social media platforms. this ranges from being mildly irritating to genuinely harmful, and i want to talk abt why.

first - you have to understand that social media, in this day and age, exists in a profit economy. and when i say social media here, i'm referring to platforms like tiktok, twitter, instagram, etc. all of these platforms exist in a profit economy where content is a product that can be monetized. this leads to a few important distinctions:

people posting on these social media platforms are generally posting with the intent to get their content seen by as many people as possible, as quickly as possible

they post with this intent because once their content is consumed by enough people, it becomes a product that they can monetize

therefore, if that content gets popular enough, these people can become influencers, where content creation is an actual job and their audience are, in a sort of vague and obscured way, similar to consumers purchasing a product

because of the profit economy surrounding social media, there are certain assumptions + forms of interaction that bleed across almost all social media platforms. the ones relevant to this little essay include:

operating under the assumption that anyone posting anything on the internet wants to go viral, ie. be seen by as many people as possible as quickly as possible in order to grow an "audience"

these influencers are creating content for us, their audience, so they should want to please us. they should also be trying to appeal to the broadest possible audience. therefore, if we dislike their content, we have a right to make that very, very clear.

in that same vein, we have a general right to critique content creators, as they are making a profit and we are the consumers purchasing their product--much like you might feel entitled to a certain standard of service in a restaurant where you are paying for the food.

when you carry these assumptions over to a platform like ao3, it creates problems. why? in a nutshell: because ao3 exists outside the profit economy

ao3 is a non-profit. it does not have an algorithm because it is not trying to sell you anything. this means that the writers posting their work on ao3 are not making a profit. we are not influencers. we are not creating monetized content to sell to a consumer-audience. where consuming content on other social media platforms might be comparable to eating at a restaurant, reading fanfiction on ao3 is more like coming over to someone's house and eating cookies that they made for free. you are in their house. the cookies are free, given as a gift. so what happens when those assumptions outlined above start to bleed over from other social media?

assuming that anyone posting fanfiction online wants their work to go viral -- i've seen this with popular fic writers getting questions like, "are you worried x isn't going to be as popular as y?" those questions are usually not ill-intended, but they demonstrate a fundamental lack of understanding about why writers post work on ao3. it's not to go viral. it's not to build any sort of online following. most of us who post on ao3 have jobs or schoolwork or other commitments, and writing fanfiction is something done for fun, out of a love for writing. those sharing their work online might be seeking community, but that is fundamentally different from seeking an audience, and in no way involves internet virality. if someone is posting fanfic on ao3 with the hope that it'll "go viral," then they likely either won't continue writing fanfic for long or will reach a point where they have to re-evalute their motivations, because seeking joy and validation by turning your art into a product for consumption just isn't very sustainable.

influencers are creating content for us, so we have a right to let them know if we don't like it -- nope!! fic writers are not influencers. yes, even the popular ones. no matter how much other people might blow their work up on social media, fic writers are still outside the profit economy. they are not creating content for an audience. they are not creating content for you. they are writing because they love it, and they are generously sharing it. if you don't like it, don't interact with it. you are never entitled to loudly and publicly proclaim how much you dislike a fic. i talk about this more here

we have a general right to critique fic writers, the same way we do with content creators/influencers -- again, no. you should not be treating fic writers the way you would treat an influencer on another social media platform, no matter how popular they may be. this is not to say fic writers are beyond all reproach; rather, it is a call-in to check your entitlement. fic writers are not little jesters entertaining in your court. they are not subject to your whims. they do not have to do things for you. they do not have to write things you like. in that post i linked on point 2, i talk about what etiquette might look like if you're really concerned that a fic writer is doing something harmful, but that is not what i'm talking about here. i am talking about the proliferation of negativity i have seen, especially on twitter and tiktok, where people essentially just talk shit about fics or fic writers as though they are entitled to have those fic writers working to please them. this is gross, and it needs to stop. you wouldn't go over to someone's house, eat the cookies they baked to share, and then spit those cookies back in their face and start shouting about what a shitty baker they are. or maybe you would--in which case, congratulations! you are Not A Good Person.

anyway, at the end of the day, a lot of this can be boiled down to: Because ao3 exists outside the profit economy, fic writers are not influencers, and you should never be treating them as though they are. i think i see this disconnect largely with younger people just because they've maybe only ever really understood social media within this sort of influencer-consumer-culture economy, and genuinely don't understand how to interact differently with the internet. so, consider this post a call-in to reevaluate the way you interact with fic writers and the etiquette you use when it comes to engaging with fanfic on ao3! i promise that ao3 being different from social media is a very, very good thing, and also a very, very rare thing, so let's treasure it and focus on fostering community rather than trying to morph it to fit the mould of influencer-audience dynamics that we see almost everywhere else <3

[critter-wizard]

you are all I have, you are the eyes that see, the air that breathes, how can I worship anything else?

[axolotlclown]

We need to remember that Shubble stated that Wilbur would manipulate and gaslight friends and family. With this, we must be patient with streamers that were close to Wilbur. This was likely surprising and shocking for them. They may need time to come to terms with what has happened.

I have been vocal about how important it is for men to be critical about abusive behaviors. However, Wilbur had many close friends—some would even consider him family—and now they may feel they hardly knew him at all.

There is a deep stress felt by viewers. It is difficult to think we have given any amount of time or money to an abuser. Could you imagine a close friend right now? The pain and betrayal must sear. They need time to understand what has happened and come to terms with it. Many of them may not be live in the coming days (weeks even).

That being said, as time passes, criticism may be necessary. Complacency is not an option. Men that are willing to ignore abuse to protect an abuser are just as pathetic as the abusers themselves.

Let's give this situation time to breathe. I ask that we give patience and courtesy to those close to Wilbur at this time. But please do not forget that this happened. There may be a few streamers hoping to lay low and then drop a collab in a few months. Do not let them. This is too important.

[creatinghelen]

realising and accepting that you have made mistakes, and will continue to make mistakes, is an essential part of growing

[muffinlance]

Do you get the impression the live action is treating us like utter morons?? Like I thought that making it aimed at an older audience would open the doors for more subtle story telling, but no, they're just using monologues to tell us eveything! Like in the second episode Katara's like 'oh his power isn't that he's the avatar, it's that he ~connects~ to people'. Girl we're not idiots we can see that!! And the first episode with Aang's goddawful 'I don't want this responsibility' monologue

THIS, YES. The word that keeps coming to mind is definitely "subtlety". The show for literal children? Had it. The remake for adults? Not so much.

[novelconcepts]

There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.

Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.

Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).

But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?

How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.

How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.

How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.

How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?

All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?

They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.

[kathaynesart]

Ngl it's super relieving to hear you're 40 cause a lot of time on the internet it's like "if you don't make it when you're 20 then you're a failure" and I am in that 20's range and still haven't "made it". So having an artist I really love turning out to be like double my age is like a breath of fresh air

idk if it makes sense

For sure. If it’s any consolation, I didn’t feel like I had really “made it” until the last few years of my life. Even then everyone’s idea of success is different. I worked for big companies in the past, but it lead to a horrible work life balance where I was overworked and did not have the time to be creative for myself.

Now I finally have a creative job where I feel appreciated, paid well, and allows me the time and energy to work on my own projects when I get home. For the longest time I was following this vague dream of what I thought success was and wanting to leave my “mark” on the world. Projects like Replica helped me realize I don’t have to chase that feeling through work alone. Sometimes the greatest marks we leave are the ones that happen when we’re just having fun and being ourselves!

Thank you all of you for helping me discover that. <3

[positivelypositive]

🍄

'keep going'...

...does not mean that you cannot rest.

it means that even in the face of difficulties, giving up is not the answer. rest if you must, and then pick yourself up and keep going.

you have the strength in you. keep going ✨

[nibbelraz]

Ooh, if we're discussing wild sqh theories I'd like to add mine! The reason why we never find out sqh's real world name is bc it's shang qinghua. And not bc he named the character after himself, but bc he has always been sqh. In pidw he was doing what he the character was supposed to, in svsss he doing what he can to save his life. Why else would he be transmirgated all the way back to his birth? Bc sqh is sqh. Idk if this is making sense Lol

I just mean that there was no one for him to replace. It's not like with shen jiu who had a life and story. There was no "other" sqh. I guess like a self insert? Like "if I lived in this world I would do xyz to influence the plot"? That's why there's no body for him to steal. It was always himself.

I think I understand what you mean! That's actually a really cool theory, and I'm totally on board because that would be a really nice thought especially when it aligns with the fact that why did Shang Qinghua have to go through from birth and not Shen Yuan

It also makes me think of like how Shang Qinghua assumed he would be acting like how he would in PIDW and of course he had to switch gears to survive but it makes me think of like when you think of how yourself will act in a certain scenario but then you're in that scenario and you react TOTALLY DIFFERENT

I think he might've overestimated how he would act when when actually faced with some plot points in svsss and underestimated some other elements, which is pretty interesting to think about!

They are one and the same

[ghouljams]

Could we get Cowboy!Ghost getting drunk off his ass making a fool of himself and being overly affectionate, confessing his love to Goose, all in all just being a mess of a drunk pretty please?

Of course Maelstrom anything for you 💜 I have a cowboy!König in the works for you and more cowboy!Soap "corruption kink" Mactavish cooking.

Simon is absolutely smashed. It's his own fault really, you told him you'd drink him under the table and he hadn't believed you. He isn't used to moonshine, you really should've stopped him before he got to this point, but it was so fun watching him go shot for shot with you. You're pretty sloshed yourself, but he is just... it's cute, it's really really cute.

You're crouched in the grass between his knees, rubbing his thighs, trying to ground him just enough that he won't vomit all over the place. Although that might be a good thing, get some of the liquor out of his system. No, the way he was boasting about being able to hold his liquor makes you think he'd be upset if you let him throw up.

"God, you've gotta get off your knees princess, give a man ideas." He slurs and if you weren't already so smitten with this man you might fall a little harder.

"Alright, shut yer eyes though, don't want you trackin' me with the spins," you wait for him to finish his grumbling and follow your order before you stand. You make the executive(drunken) decision to straddle his lap and he thumps his head onto your chest as soon as you settle on his lap.

His arms circle your waist and you let him hug you close to cuddle. You try not to coo at him as you thread your fingers through his hair, but he's so sweet like this you can't help one little affection. He grumbles more in response.

"Nobody told me you were gonna be a cuddly drunk," you grin, fingers dipping under his mask to scratch the back of his neck lightly. You press your thumb behind his ear, easy pressure points to keep the nausea at bay.

"'M not," you mumbles against your chest, you bite your lip and try not to laugh, "'m jus' in love with you." You are very much not laughing at that. Your fingers still and you feel Simon nuzzle against you, searching for more attention.

"You love me?" You whisper, because you don't want the rest of the group to hear. Their fun dims in the background, your world narrowing to just you and the man in your arms.

Simon hums an affirmative, "Want you to marry me, have my stupid fat babies."

"Babies? Plural?" Your brain latches on to the only thing it can, there's a non-zero chance Simon has blacked out and this is not how youre going to get engaged, "What happened to not fit to parent?"

He tips his head back, resting his chin against your sternum, the stars reflected in those gorgeous brown eyes you love so much. "I could do it with you," he tells you, and your heart could burst at how soft and honest he sounds, "I'm better with you."

God actually maybe this is how you want to get engaged. You want to bottle this moment, this look in Simon's eye, and save it for the rest of your life. His head moves with the steady rise and fall of your breaths, he looks at you like he never wants anything else than what he has right now. Just you and him sitting under the stars, breathing together.

You kiss him and he tastes like the best moonshine you've ever had, like canned peaches and stale tobacco, like the rest of your life, like Simon. His lips move against yours slow and gentle, he can never believe that a girl like you is kissing a guy like him. He savors everything you give him and then some.

The way you look when you wake up, the way you stretch your arms over your head and groan when you think no one's watching, the way you make every allowance for him and never ask him for anything but him in return. Why wouldn't he love you? Why wouldn't he tell you, show you, every chance he got.

"I love you too," you tell him softly, and his chest clenches so tight he thinks he might be having a heart attack out of shear joy.

"I'll get you a ring," he promises, and you really hope he hasn't blacked out because he's going to be real embarrassed in the morning if he remembers this.

"If we're being proper about this you gotta ask Daddy for my hand," you tell him just to watch him pout and shove his face back into your chest.

"Maybe we elope."

[bizarrelittlemew]

i was hoping to make a post like this under happier circumstances, but here goes.

as some of you know, everything with the cancellation and renewal campaign has happened right on top of the worst part of my mom's cancer treatment (plus the show was cancelled on my actual birthday 💀). i won't go into details, but it's been tough. lots of ups and downs, mostly downs, luckily ending (for now) on as much of an up as circumstances allow. the whole thing has been weirdly tied to the cancellation for me, kind of amplifying every feeling. the grief got mixed up, and there was so much of it - mourning the loss of the kind of future i thought i'd have with my mother and the time we might not get, mourning the end of a show that means so much to me and is such a big part of my life. different types of grief, sure, and of different magnitudes, but in one big ugly swirl. i sort of had a breakdown right at the start of february, and it was because of news about my mom, but it morphed into my brain telling me everything i'd ever written was shit and wanting to delete it all. stuff like that, spilling over.

anyway. i was holding off on writing this post to see if the show got picked up by someone else. but i still want to say it. because what also spilled over was the support and community from this fandom, and being in this space (despite the rough times and high emotions) helped me through it, because of all of you here. whether we talk regularly, or you left a comforting reply or simply a like on one of my posts about having a hard time (i tried to keep them few), or wrote a nice comment on a fic, or said something funny or nice or insightful in the tags of a gifset, or was active here (or on twt) in any way, talking/sharing/creating stuff about the show - THANK YOU.

you all helped me through all the ups and downs, and i am so grateful. thank you for being here, listening, distracting, helping me feel some joy despite the horrors. i love you and i love this incredible show and all it has brought and will continue to bring and inspire, and although it should go without saying, i'm not going anywhere. just do me a favor and give yourself a big ol' hug from me, and know that you made a difference for some random guy on the internet (but in reality for many more, and for this fandom as a whole, just by being here and being you) 💕

[front-facing-pokemon]

[gumy-shark]

one of the really fun things abt thinking abt ur ocs is when you realize you’ve gone from a concept to a story. and it’s got themes and shit

[deoidesign]

Just a reminder, I have a patreon!!!

I've been working on actually making stuff to post more often for the lower tiers, and have been consistently doing so!

I post at least a few sketches and drawings every month for the $1 and up patrons

and I've been working on episodes and sharing some updates with my $5 and up patrons

And I have a merch club for $15 a month, but there's still some $10 slots left! I design and send usually a postcard and some stickers to my patrons every month, but sometimes I'll do some experimental stuff; last month I did foil prints, for instance, and a few months before I made magnets!

It also gets you access to private channels in my discord server, where I ask for patron input on things like the merch or drawings, and where I sometimes stream while working :)

Buuuut also, even if you don't want any of this stuff, it's a great way to support me directly if you like my work! I'm still on hiatus so I'm not making any money from work at the moment, but I'm working hard and my patreon enables me at least to buy my groceries!

Here's the link one more time, no pressure of course but I need to promote my patreon more so people actually know it exists haha