#anyways in keeping with tradition the tags are now my diary

[netflixofficial]

Ever listen to a song you've heard a thousand times, but suddenly one of the lyrics just jumps out and gut punches you from nowhere?

[noirandchocolate]

Here’s an Owl House theory.  THERE’S SPOILERS FOR THE LAST EPISODE IN IT.  I’m SURE others have come up with the same or similar, but I don’t go in fandom tags very much so please nobody think I ‘stole’ this.  I’m posting less to impress other Owl House fans and more as a record for my future self of what I thought was going on in the show at this point.

So we know that Luz came through the door between worlds, and that there’s a doppelganger back in Humanland who wrote to her mom from camp and is now living in her house.  We know that mom doesn’t think anything at all is ‘off’ about Faux Luz, so there must not be anything wildly different about her appearance-wise.

We also know Philip Wittebane sort of tripped and fell into Magicland accidentally, but we know he disappeared or went back home somehow (it seems like he made the portal door in the first place).  Now, we know what Emperor Belos looks like, and he looks and (when he’s not masked and trying to be echoey and intimidating) sounds very very much like Philip’s silhouette and voice in the diary. 

We also know that Hunter looks rather like, but not exactly like, Belos.  We’ve been shown that Belos performs magic in a way that looks quite different to any other Witch, and we’ve been told Hunter isn’t able to do magic on his own without a staff--and that with the unusual staff Belos gave him his magic has the same red aura as Belos’s, but with a ‘traditional’ staff with a palisman his magic is yellow or golden.  In the last episode we were also shown a page in a book displaying info on a creature called a ‘Grimwalker,’ and that creature apparently has jewel-y maroon eyes like Hunter’s--which do NOT match Belos’s blue eyes.  (Their ears also don’t match exactly.  They have the same notch in the left ear, but Hunter’s are more horizontally pointy like Witch ears are, while Belos’s do come to a point but they’re noticeably smaller and more vertical.)

Hunter told Luz that he was ‘found’ by Belos, and that others in his ‘family’ have been unable to do magic.  However Hunter didn’t necessarily say he knew anyone else in his family (I don’t think, someone correct me if I’m wrong), so it’s likely he only knows there have been others in his lineage without magic because Belos told him that.

Okay theory time, everything behind here is pure speculation:

Belos isn’t Philip Wittebane.  He’s the Faux Philip that Philip spontaneously, ‘magically’ generated in Humanland when he fell into Magicland.  When Philip made the portal door and went home, Faux Philip was swapped into Magicland.  Faux Philip couldn’t stay in Humanland while Philip was there; there can’t be two of the same person on the same plane of existence.  Once a human has moved between worlds, there always has to be one of them on one side and one of them on the other.  And Faux Philip, now known as Belos, who has seen Humanland and who remembers it as being so much cleaner, so much more peaceful and quiet, very much wants to go home.

So what is a Faux person made of?  Well, we’ve seen Belos go all goopy and we know he feels better after consuming palismen--and that palistrom wood is one of the Grimwalker ‘ingredients.’  So, I theorize that Belos, in the long years of trying to go back to Humanland, has done enough experimentation to find out what sustains him: very magical things, things basically ‘from the Titan’ and the Isles, such as palistrom wood, and possibly Titan’s blood or galdorstones if he could get them, etc.  He isn’t made of those things like a Grimwalker seems to be, but they keep him alive.  And he’s needed more and more over time, because the original Philip Wittebane is long dead.  Belos should be long dead as well, but has essentially refused to give up on going home to Humanland and is keeping himself going with magical stuff, which works because he is indeed a creature of flesh but also one that was magically generated.

I further theorize that Belos knows the truth of his origins.  He knows he’s Faux Philip (rather than thinking he’s just a human who was banished into Magicland suddenly one day) and has at least guessed that if he goes home, something will need to be left behind in Magicland.  But his own original is dead.  Belos has guessed or knows that he, already being a Faux person, won’t generate a doppelganger.  It’s possible he had the portal door at one point, but didn’t find it until after Philip died and so he knows it won’t work for him because there’s no person there to swap with.  It’s also possible Belos found the door even before Philip died, and discovered he couldn’t go through it at all because Philip, the ‘real person’ in this scenario, was the only one who could initiate a swap.  (Maybe only humans can, naturally.  Otherwise, there’s a doppelganger Eda and even a doppelganger Lilith somewhere in the human world right now because they’ve both gone through the portal door and come back to Magicland.)

Anyway I don’t think Faux Philip could see the door right when Philip used it to come back.  When Luz tumbled back through the door with Lilith, her own copy didn’t appear right on the other side of the door, at least that we could see, and Luz has no idea she exists.  However if my theory is correct, Luz’s copy was just for those few moments swapped into Magicland.  Maybe Faux Luz appeared at a distance from the door on the Magicland side equal to the distance she currently was from the door on the Humanland side?  If so, the same thing would’ve happened to Faux Philip.  So if that’s true, he just popped into Magicland at an equidistant point too and didn’t see the door.  But I do theorize he found the door later and tried it and it didn’t work--otherwise the rest of my theory below doesn’t make as much sense, because how would he know he couldn’t make or find only a door and have that work.  Still, I don’t have a theory on how he lost access to the portal door after that.  Eda found it not far from her home, and Eda’s mom said her great grandmother knew there was ‘a human’ who lived in the area (not necessarily that great granny knew the person but at least that she knew of him, and depending on Witch lifespans it may have been impossible she knew him personally) who turned out to be Philip, so there’s a potential link, but I don’t have a guess yet on why it was there and not with Belos.  Unless Belos left it there to hide it and Eda just kinda found it one day?  Belos didn’t seem to know Eda had the door, he just kind of assumed since another human appeared that that human may have used it.  So going after Eda would bring him Luz and thus info on the door?  Like I said I don’t have a full theory on this.

At any rate, I hypothesize that Belos very much knows what he is and knows he can’t go through any door between realms unless something will ‘swap’ with him.  So he’s been trying not only to find or make a door and key BUT ALSO to make a ‘Faux Faux’ Philip he can use to be his doppelganger in Magicland so the door will even let him through.  (In other words he thinks he could technically become an ‘original’ by making another copy being, and that that being could then be swapped around for him like he was for Philip.)

So he knows what keeps him alive, and he’s been in Magicland long enough to know how to make ‘magic’ without being a Witch himself.  Eda, who’s been a virtually magicless Witch for a little while, still knows how to make potions.  Luz figured out the glyphs, which apparently figured into how Witches did magic before they evolved bile sacs and could do it naturally.  How much more could someone who’s been living in Magicland for literally centuries figure out how to do?  I suggest that over the years, Belos learned how to make constructs he called Grimwalkers.  After all it looks like a Grimwalker is basically a list of potion ingredients that somehow makes a walking talking person.  Abominations are goopy constructs too, so constructs are an existing type of magic.  But those potion ingredients--one of which is also a known thing that keeps Belos himself alive--are rare and difficult to find.  So it takes quite a bit of time and effort to make a Grimwalker.

Anyway long story short Hunter is the latest Grimwalker Belos has made, and Belos hopes to use him as a Faux Faux Philip who can take his place in Magicland when he returns to Humanland.  Possibly Belos made a baby him and left him with someone else to raise him, and he was abandoned or later ~found~ by Belos who declared him a ‘nephew’ and ‘took him in’ at the growth stage or moment in time when he’d become potentially useful?  The other members of his ‘family’ who couldn’t do magic were other Grimwalkers, and Hunter never knew them, Belos just told him about them.  Oh Hunter, you’re different from other Witches, but you’re not the only one of your kind!  Here, have a special kind of staff I made that helps members of our family make magic!  You’re very special, Hunter, the Titan has big plans for you, but also, don’t fail me or you’ll be (just as) useless (as the others).

So the previous Grimwalkers ‘failed’ in some way.  Maybe they didn’t master Belos’s style of ‘artificial’ magic sufficiently to his liking.  Maybe like I said, Belos had the door for a while, and he tried to get through and leave a Grimwalker behind but it didn’t work, and then he didn’t give up on the idea but just decided that particular Grimwalker was a failure.  Maybe the previous Grimwalkers just weren’t stable and broke down before he could even try to use them.  At any rate it would be so troublesome to have to replace Hunter who is skilled and stable (so far), and the Day of Unity is coming and the door is nearly complete and a key might soon be made or found, so Hunter had better stay put and not do any more missions.  Just like Amity misunderstood Luz’s texts, Hunter is misunderstanding Belos right now.  It’s not that Belos is worried he’ll fail at any further little missions or tasks, it’s that he doesn’t want him to be lost or to fail at his ultimate function.

And that’s what I think so far!

Anyway I also think that if all that is correct, it’s going to be interesting if/when Luz finds out what Belos really is and what he’s really trying to do, because that will mean finding out about Faux Luz.  Who’s ‘just like poor Faux Philip/Belos, who’s just been trying to get home all this time.’  Luz has already been having trouble deciding what she wants to do.  Be a witch, or go home to Humanland where magic is impossible?  Never see her mother again, or never see her Boiling Isles Found Family again?  Try to live between worlds somehow? 

So, finding out that if she goes home and stays home there will be a creature swapped into Magicland who might feel just as banished and abandoned as Belos...  Thinking that if she goes home and stays home her Found Family might take in the Faux Luz which would be nice because Faux Luz would be less sad, but that Found Family might also consider Faux Luz a Replacement (which Luz could think means they don’t care if it’s Really Luz so long as there’s A Luz--that she’s replaceable and not special)...  Finding out that her mom didn’t even notice the Luz that wrote home from camp and came back after a few months wasn’t really her (and is Faux Luz less boisterous and more practical like mom hoped? is Faux Luz the Luz mom Always Wanted Instead?)...  So thinking that if she stays in Magicland she might not be as missed as she assumed...

Oh boy!  Possible feelings and angst!  If I’m right anyway!

[heymacy]

the club diaries: chapter one ✍🏼

if you didn’t know, i recently got a job as a cocktail waitress at a strip club. a friend from my day job got me an interview there for bartending, but since i’ve only waitressed in the past i’m starting there and then will train along the way.

if you told me a year ago that i’d be working in a strip club part time, i’d have assumed i was hallucinating, so this is an entirely new experience for me and i thought i’d share stories about the job with y’all since i’m sure there will be many.

my first night, i got there early to fill out my tax paperwork and get my uniform. once i was dressed, my friend (we’ll call her E) had me shadow her for the rest of the night, helping her with tables and orders.

before i got this job, i had been to a strip club one time in my entire life. it was almost an entire decade ago, when I was 18, and i went with my boyfriend at the time and our mutual best friend. a stripper named hunter put her face in my boobs and it was definitely a, uh, memorable experience.

i’ve also never been to a club or a bar, in the traditional sense. it was never my scene, i don’t really drink alcohol, and my only friends have always been neurodivergent homebodies like me.

then, all of a sudden, i’m in a corset with my boobs front and center and fake eyelashes to the heavens pouring shots of overpriced Grey Goose vodka for middle-aged men in button-down shirts. culture shock? yeah.

but to be honest? it’s not that different from my other job

let me explain. at our day job, even though we work in different departments, E and i deal with rude people, angry people, sometimes even violent people. we have to think on our feet and problem solve and placate the customer until someone in upper management can slide in and either solve the problem entirely or escort them out of the store. the exact same is true at the club. in fact, i was told by three people during my first shift that if anyone ever does anything that makes me uncomfortable, like touching me without my permission or making lewd comments, it’s 100% okay and encouraged to tell them to fuck off. at my day job, i’m not allowed to do that, so it’s actually nice to know i have that option if things get dicey.

and that’s the thing: things get dicey at both jobs. just the other day, at my day job, a man came in high on coke and meth with a switchblade and tried stealing a tablet from the electronics department by cutting the security tag. when it didn’t work, his high ass came over to my department, slammed the knife down on the table, and demanded to speak with a manager while muttering incoherently under his breath.

the entire world, every single part of it, is deeply and utterly bizarre.

the first night was pretty simple, just shadowing E and helping her with her tables. we spent a lot of time taking orders since it was a busy night, but the computer system was glitching a lot so there was a lot of standing around, waiting for credit cards to process, waiting for the POS system to reboot. i got there around 9:30 and i was there until about 3am. the next night i went in around 10 and worked on my own until about 5:30. at one point i was awake for a grand total of 42 hours and was fully convinced i was losing my mind and becoming irreparably insane. turns out sleep depravation doesn’t agree with me - who knew?

overall, i was surprised by how laid back it was. like yes, it’s crazy in a lot of ways. flashing lights, boobs everywhere, smoke and alcohol and cologne flowing through the room, loud music, people yelling at each other, etc. think, the jersey shore crew on a night out at karma, only with actual strippers.

i’m also surprised by how comfortable i felt in my uniform. i’d never struggled with my weight until i turned 22, and i just recently lost about 45 pounds due to illness, so my body image has been a little wonky as of late. however, i was a musical theatre kid (shut up) and honestly, i wore an outfit just as scandalous when we did a rendition of “hey big spender” from sweet charity (a musical that’s literally about nightclub dancers, by the way). so quite frankly, i’ve been rather comfortable in the skrimpy little outfit, which is surprising even to me.

anyway, so far things are going well. i anticipate drama, and chaos, and there’s already been some, but that’s ultimately the reality of every job ever. at my day job, the drama is insubordination and return policies and angry Karens. at my club job, the drama is “why does a vodka cranberry cost $16?” and “this guy is drunk, call security” and to be honest? it’s less emotionally exhausting to explain overpriced alcohol to a slimy dude in a suit than it is to explain to a Karen why she can’t return the clothes she bought at walmart to our store, because we’re not walmart. 🙄

my next shift is tomorrow night at 11, and i’ll be there until the wee hours of the morning on thursday. thankfully, there won’t be a repeat of this weekend, since i’m completely free from both jobs on thursday and friday.

i’ll be making these posts every once in a while if i have any interesting stories or anecdotes to share, but feel free to ask me questions any time, and i’ll answer them as best as i can!

oh also, my wife is keeping all the cash tips i earn in a shoebox and wasn’t too amused when i referred to it as the “titty money box” lmao

anyway, here’s some photos of my uniform. thank you god or whoever for my boobs, they cause me tremendous back pain but i can hold $120 in cash, a cell phone, three pens, and a stack of napkins in there without being detected. so. pretty neat trick.

macy and her boobs, signing off for now ✨

[depressedtransguy]

don't read this unless you're @thedragonemperess or I will come to your house and shave your teeth with a razor

@angelwiththeblue-box you can also read

10/07/21

Stephen took me to the carnival for our two year anniversary yesterday night. It was... phenomenal. Normally I don't like going out so publicly on our dates, especially in something as popular as a carnival, but it might be my favorite date of ours so far. He picked me up in his dad's Lamborghini at around 7:30, just as the sun was beginning to sink below the tree line of this stupid little town, and kissed me up against the car as soon as he got his hands on me. The start of his beard pricked me lightly as we did. Then he squeezed my hand lightly and told me he had a surprise that he hoped I liked. I told him if it was from him then I'd adore it. We shared another kiss through giggles before we slipped into the car and began to drive off. Our hands were intertwined on the center console the whole time. He always told me that it was hard to keep his hands off me with me in range and my consent. God... I love him more than anything. But, anyway, the carnival. As we neared, his thumb slid over mine and he told me to close my eyes, which I properly did. He's the only one I trust enough to do that with. I could tell he was excited and a little anxious just from the way he kept squeezing my fingers. It was adorable. Even cuter when we stopped and he temporarily let go as we stopped, only to move to my side of the car and slowly lead me out onto the gravel of the parking lot, practically buzzing with anticipation. I didn't even care what it was at that point, whatever made Stephen this thrilled to show him had to be good. Then he told me to open my eyes. And Jesus Christ I think I audibly gasped. I didn't know what I was really expecting, but when the bright lights spread all throughout the fairgrounds, exploding the navy sky with color, I could swear I was in another realm. As Stephen asked me if I liked it, I noticed his eyes were nervous, so with sparkling eyes I pulled him close and told him I loved it. The smile on his face was worth everything and more. He actually told me the same thing about mine. That was before he took my hand once more and led me past the ticket taker, pulling them out of his jeans and handing them off, us receiving a smile from her as we continued walking out onto the grass. "I know it's not traditional, but when I passed this place the other day I suddenly wanted to take you here," is what he said. "We can leave any time you want." "As long as you're here, I don't care where the date is," is what I said back. And boy was I right. It didn't matter that there were a ton of other people there, they all faded into nothing but background characters as Stephen miraculously won the balloon pop game and happily gifted me a little goat stuffed animal, one that I held close to my heart as I beamed at him. As I pressed my body close to him on the roller coaster, my fingers digging tightly into his bicep, and he held me steady as I stumbled onto the platform post ride. As the ferris wheel stuttered to a stop as we sat at the top, Stephen's hand on my thigh and my hand on his shoulder, and we kissed there, surrounded by nothing but the lights and the infinite abyss of stars. Once the night was over we had slow, sappy sex in his car, too filled with adoration and the need of skin against skin for us to drive back to one of our houses. I lazily drew shapes in the mist on the windows as I was brought back to my place, my mind filled with a soft bliss, and my body feeling like I had been washed over. I had never felt more at peace. And I still did, even as we had our long goodbye kiss and I went to sleep alone, the goat pressed against my chest. I was at peace. So how the hell did I end up here?

A tear slipped off of Loki's cheek and splattered onto his messy handwriting, bleeding the words together and making the many sections of his diary incomprehensible. It made him want to cry harder. That night could very well be all he and Stephen had together, and he was destroying the only stable record of it. Loki tilted back his head and squeezed his fists as tightly as possible.

On 10/07/21, at approximately 11:27, while driving from Loki's house to his, a speeding car struck Stephen's from behind and sent him spinning out of control off a cliff and forcing him to end up upside down near the river below. The person who caused the accident is yet to be found. And Stephen had been in surgery for 17 hours by the time Loki arrived at the hospital after school, right after he had gotten the news. He was still unconscious by then and practically looked like he had been forced through a meat grinder. Loki couldn't even glance up at him anymore, it made his heart twist into knots and make him want to throw up and sob. Not because he looked disgusting, although he certainly didn't look great, it was solely because of how his state reminded him of how hurt his boyfriend was. Loki couldn't imagine how much pain he was in. The cuts and scrapes on his face, the bruises on his arms, and the absolute wreck that his hands appeared to be, it all made him want to tear the skin off his bones. It hurt so much.

With a loud curse Loki snapped his notebook shut and pressed his face into it, doing his best to clear his mind instead of thinking all that he and Stephen had had together. The late nights of 'studying', the private dates, the stolen kisses at school... it had all slipped through their fingers because of one fucking idiot on the road.

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe, despite it being a school night, Loki should have insisted on Stephen staying the night with him. None of this would have happened if he had done that. Of course it's my fault.

Although they were trembling badly and the fact that he was still on the verge of tears, Loki slowly opened his fists to check up on the mess of blood that was beginning to pool up under the curve of his claws, smeared across his pale skin and nails. As he heard the door open, Loki closed them tightly once again with only a tiny hiss of pain. It was the doctor.

"Please tell me he's going to be okay," Loki whispered after a few seconds of nothing but tentious silence between him and the doctor, the concerned expression that she had exhibited when she entered and noticed him already making his stomach churn. "I don't care if it's not the truth, please just tell me he's going to be okay."

She-Dr. Palmer, as it read on her name tag-sighed gently and walked over to the young man, placing a hand on his shoulder as she sat down next to him. He didn't consider that a good sign. "I'm not going to lie to you hon. But let me ask first. How are you connected to Stephen?"

"He's-*hic*-he's my boyfriend."

"Alright honey. I'll give you the bad news first. His hands have suffered an extreme amount of nerve damage to his hands, and the surgeries so far have done nothing to correct them. It's looking like his hands are irrefutably damaged. He's never going to be able to use them normally again. But that's only if he comes out of the coma, which he only has a 50% chance of," Dr. Palmer explained as gently as was possible as it was to tell a teenager how badly his partner was injured.

It was like Loki's already broken heart shattered. The previous night could very well have been their last time together. And sure, it was perfect, but was he satisfied with never being with Stephen again? "What?" Loki choked out.

"I am so sorry. I truly am, but there is some good news. The probability of his awakening has only been getting higher, so that 50% chance of him not coming out of the coma could very easily become zero percent in no time. And you can help with that too."

For the first time since the school day did Loki look hopeful. "I can? How?"

"Talk to him. Despite his state, he can hear you in there. Talk about your time together, the past- I know it might hurt you, and please don't push yourself out of your comfort zone, but do what you can. Okay?"

With a bit of hesitation Loki slowly nodded, once again removing his nails from his palms. "Okay. I can do that," he told her.

Dr. Palmer gave him a small smile and gently patted him on the back before she stood up again, quickly checking Stephen's vitals, and then left to most likely check on another patient. Loki then took advantage of the silence and pushed his chair over to Stephen's bedside, ignoring the blood smearing on the chair's armrests as he did so. He still stared down at his lap once he was close, fearing breaking down in tears for what seemed like the hundredth time, but he did have the courage to lift up one of his own hands and rest it on his bicep. "Hey." An immediate voice crack wasn't a great start. Not that he knew any other way to begin. Any thoughts of their past two years together made Loki want to sob, now especially since he knew that he could very possibly never make any new ones with him. But he couldn't just stay silent. He had to say something, anything to make his guilt of not making Stephen stay the night with him lessen just a little bit. And according to the doctor, talking about their happy memories together could actually help. Hopefully. But it was nonetheless better than crying his eyes out for no reason. "Remember how we started dating?" Loki paused as if he was asking for an answer. "We were sophomores. You were in my chemistry class, and I always thought you were really cute, but I was too scared to talk to you and you were too nervous to, so we passed nothing but awkward glances and sarcastic comments for months on end. Until we got paired up for a project and you asked for my number. I gave it enthusiastically of course. From there we started talking and flirting a bit, although still too anxious to actually make a move, until you grabbed me when we were in the library and pushed me up against the back wall and asked to kiss me. You can guess what my response was." He chuckled dryly. "I might be able to say that I was already in love with you when you pulled back for air and gave me that little gorgeous smirk of yours, pulled my hips to yours, and whispered 'can I do it again?'. I was putty in your hands in the Greek philosophy section."

Loki quickly fell silent at the mention of his hands. With a small swallow, he managed to continue with a low voice. "When we were science class partners, you would tell me about how much you wanted to become a doctor. A neurosurgeon to be specific. I didn't exactly know why yet, you told me that a few months into our romantic relationship, but I eagerly listened about your plans for Columbia nonetheless. Not that-" he was crying again, "-not that that'll be possible now." Loki cleared his throat and tried to wipe his tears away with his trembling hands. "Even if you wake up." The student began to gently stroke his boyfriend's bandaged bicep while still staring at his lap, watching water splash onto where the excess of his oversized hoodie was rolled up and darkened the gray fabric.

It was Stephen's hoodie.

Using his feet, Loki slowly began to push his chair back until he eventually hit the wall, bunching his hands up in the hoodie's collar and raising it up to his nose, inhaling the signature cologne that he had fallen in love with over the last two years. The hood was soon flipped over his head and his knees were brought up to his chest, curling himself into the fetal position, and then finally letting all his tears out into the secure housing of Stephen's smell. That's where he had always been safe, and no matter either of their states, it still worked. Loki actually fell asleep like that after half an hour or so.

Stephen's parents found him in the morning and called Loki's family, and Thor ended up carrying him back home.

But as soon as he woke up he went back to the hospital. He wasn't missing the possibility of Stephen waking up.

10/31/21

I've still been going to school. Because my parents want me to. But I'm not doing well. My grades are beginning to sink from it, and the teachers don't care. I can't focus in class, I'm just thinking about if Stephen's going to wake up or not. What if he's waking up alone while I'm in Calculus? What if he flatlines when I'm in history? There's just too many probabilities. I don't give a shit about my grades, I just want Stephen back. I know that's such a stupid little kid thing to say since we are high schoolers, but it's been two years! And he's shown me so much love and care in that time that I don't know what I'd do without him. Not that anyone else seems to care. This is why I want Stephen back, he's the only friend I have left. In real life friend I mean. And I don't say that like I'm attached to his hip all the time, we have our own private time that I respect, but they all moved away. Why am I defending myself to a notebook? God this hospital is making me crazy. Stephen looks better, which I'm really glad about. Dr. Palmer tells me I've helped a lot by staying and talking to him, he should most likely wake up soon, but she did tell me that I can go home soon instead of only leaving for school and for showering. But I'm not doing that. At least not until he wakes up. If- WHEN he wakes up, I bet I'll get a lecture for not taking care of myself well enough just for him, so I'll probably be forced to go home more. God, I want him to lecture me. Just to hear his voice again. It's been over three weeks. I don't think I've worn anything besides underwear that isn't his. Jeans, sweatpants, shirts, hoodies, everything. It's the least I can do to replace the feeling of him being with me. At this time, I can't help but think of our Halloween's together. The first one we weren't even a month into dating, so we just bought a bunch of candy and ate candy at home while watching horror movies. But the next year, after a full 12 months of being in love, we dressed up as Gomez and Morticia Addams. Stephen looked unfairly hot in that striped suit with his hair slicked back and a teasing smile on his face. That was some good sex we had later on. Stephen said he had a thing for the dress I had on, as well as the red lipstick, which I believe since his hands barely left my hips the entire time I had it on. He also grinned from ear to ear when he saw the lipstick kiss marks I put on his collar. I love him. God I do. Please... I need him back.

Loki closed the notebook after his last few words of desperation and slipped his pencil behind his ear, raising his head up to look at Stephen with glassy eyes. He looked peaceful. By then all his scrapes and cuts were mostly healed, which made him look way better, but his hands were still pinned up in suspended holds with ragged scars lining his rough skin. More surgeries had been done on them, and Dr. Palmer once again said that he would be permanently disabled when he woke. Once again it hurt Loki's heart to think about how much pain that he must be in. The swollen scars didn't look like they felt nice. "I'm so sorry," Loki whispered as he reached up to his face and gently brushed his overgrown hair out of his face, still feeling guilty about the incident. "If I just made you stay you would still be here with me." Moving around the bed's guard rail, Loki sat on the edge of the mattress and sunk his fingers into his thick hair once more, gently toying with it as he began to talk again. "Remember junior prom? It was on February 26th; on the same night as the public prom that the school had put together. (We wanted to be alone.) You put on this navy blue suit of yours that perfectly brings out your eyes, and I bought this short green dress that made you grab my ass as soon as I came out of the house. You gave me an Agapanthus corsage that you had made yourself. And then, you kissed me, and told me that the flower meant 'never-fading love'. Like ours." A tear fell down Loki's cheek and plopped down onto Stephen's bare bicep. "I don't exactly know where me telling this story was going, my mind is a bit fuzzy and has been for weeks, hospitals being bad places to sleep plus depression isn't really an equation for good sleep, so I'll just say this. I'm not going anywhere until you return. And when you do, I'm not leaving either. Your recovery, physical therapy, going back to school, I'm going to be by your side. Okay?" Loki gently kissed Stephen's forehead and continued to stroke his hair, his other hand resting on the crook of his elbow and gently stroking his skin as if he was soothing him. "So please wake up."

With one last small peck Loki reluctantly slipped off the bed to enter the hospital bathroom, quickly using the bathroom before rubbing the sink water on his face as if that would wake him up from the haze that he had been living in, just moving from the hospital to school to the hospital to school and so on so forth. It was just a cycle of being depressed and near and being depressed and far. Fun.

Just deciding to repress his emotions for the billionth time that month, Loki shoves it down and goes back out into the main room, taking a book of Hamlet out of his bag to pass the time before he uncomfortably fell asleep in the chair. Most likely in just an hour or two since it was almost midnight. Every time he knocked unconscious in the overly small hospital chair with no support whatsoever, in front of the bed that Stephen laid in, Loki missed their cuddling more and more. Stephen's arms around him and his nose buried in the back of his neck was always the highlight of Loki's day/night. And it had been weeks since he was actually held. And by god did he need it.

But these thoughts quickly made him feel selfish. The thought that he was whining about not being held or not having his boyfriend confirmed as okay while Stephen had been struck disabled and in a coma sickened him to his core. More and more guilt stacked on top of his chest until he felt like he couldn't breathe, forced to snap his book shut and slam it on the floor. Why did everything have to hurt so much even though he didn't have a scar on him to show as evidence of his pain? It just made him feel so fake.

Loki sunk down into his seat and covered his once again teary eyes with his palms, bouncing his leg against the floor and digging his nails into his bare forehead, letting everything crash over him like a third wave tsunami. Not as extreme as the first, but it just made the present damage worse. Stop it. Stop it. STOP it. STOP IT. Loki was three seconds away from screaming out all the pain in his heart. But then he heard a groan that didn't belong to him echo in the otherwise empty room.

His palms flew to his thighs and he looked up at Stephen.

And his eyes were open!

With a gasp Loki jumped up from his chair and cupped his boyfriend's face, trying not to get too close to shock him, but just needing to hold him and let him see him. "Stephen, you're up!"

"Dewdrop... what happened?"

The student wanted to cry. He could speak. His voice was a bit strained, clearly tired and weary from lack of use, but it was there and that was all that counted. But besides that, the question couldn't be ignored. "You were in a crash baby, right after you left my house. Someone tail-boned you and you skidded off a cliff. Darling... it's Halloween."

"What?!"

Maybe he could have put it better. But Loki didn't really know how to explain it in any other way. "It's okay, darling, it's okay. Please, just focus on me for a second. Could you do that? Not the pain, not the fact that it's three and a half weeks later than you can remember, please look at my eyes and focus on me," he instructed as best he could, gently stroking his cheekbones with his thumbs and praying that he didn't glance down at his hands that he most likely could barely feel. He wanted to break that to him gently.

"I can do that."

"Alright, good. So yes, you were in a car crash and have been in a coma for about 25 days. Most of your scrapes, cuts, and bruises, have thankfully been healed. But your hands... they were crushed on impact.

[polikszena]

I was tagged by @orlissa about a hundred years ago to post 6 facts about myself and then tag other people.

The first time I was on stage happened when I was about 4 or 5 years old and was going to some sort of jazz dance class and once we performed at a gala and our class (a group of little girls) did a routine to Jellice Ball from Cats. Ironically, we were dressed up as mice and the older girls - the cats - came to frighten us from time to time. I was the youngest of the whole group and my coordination wasn't really on top, so I was doing everything with a small delay, and when we finished our number I just walked to the middle of the stage and started waving to my parents in the audience and one of the "cats" had to carry me off stage. No-one said a bad word about it, and it was kind of cute and funny, although quite embarrassing, too. But I was only 5 and I had never been on stage before, so I guess it was understandable.

I used to be an enthusiastic diarist. From 2003 to 2013 I wrote to my diary almost every day, usually using old and empty calendars (or agendas, or whatever those notebook-like calendars are called) that my parents received from here and there, but never used them. I still keep a diary nowadays, although I write into it more sporadically, so there are times when I do it for three days in a row, and then not a single word for two weeks.

During my third year in high school I won a Spanish writing competition with a short story about a trans bull who is taken to a traditional bullfight and she has to face a torera, the descendant of an old bullfighter family, who doesn't really want to continue the tradition. It was titled La suerte de Verónica (Verónica's Luck), because both the bull and the torera had this name and because the first part of the bullfight is called like this (or at least that's what we were told in Spanish class).

I saw The Phantom of the Opera for the first time on stage on the 14th March in 2004. I was so excited about it that I was counting down the days, and the show made such an impact on me that in the following years I either listened to the sountrack or rewatched the 2004 movie (or both) on the 14th of March (I even mentioned it in my diary that today was the anniversary of seeing POTO for the first time), so it has become some sort of a personal tradition to do something Phantom-related on that day. This year I watched the Royal Albert Hall-performance from 2011.

I'm extremely scared of dentists, hospitals, and doctors, so much that I can't even watch or read anything that sets in a hospital, so I have never watched House MD, Grey's Anatomy, ER, or any of those, and I can still get freaked out when my mum watches it and there is a scene when they are operating. The only medical show I managed to watch was Sirens, which was about 3 paramedics, it was only 6 episodes, and there were no operations shown on camera. Plus Richard Madden was in it (and Kayvan Novak as well, but I didn’t know who he was back then). Anyway, I think it's a good show and it's definitely worth a try.

I used to play the clarinet for more than 10 years, I even have one on my own (before that we were borrowing it from the music school) and I named it Frici after a Hungarian writer, Frigyes Karinthy. After graduating from high school, I stopped going to classes, but still remained a member of the school’s orchestra until I went to the Netherlands for a semester, and hadn’t practised ever since. Which is a pity, because I do miss it sometimes. I mean, I have absolutely zero talent for it, but I used to practise a lot and had a great teacher who always gave me pieces to play in the annual concert that were not too difficult, but still challenging and enjoyable as well. I mean, once I played the theme from The Godfather, so you can imagine. That year, for the half-term exam, I drew a comic about Don Clarinete who finds a horn mouthpiece in his bed. Actually, now that I’m back in my hometown and have my instrument here with me, I’m tempted to start practising again.

Tagging @life-of-brienne, @tallboyben, @mostlydaydreaming, @starlightinkwell, and whoever else wants to do it! :)

[deepstheeskimo]

I hope all the red squirrels die of COVID

Forget potential NHS breaches and the economy facing the fate of hibernating hedgehogs that settled down in their pile of leaves but forgot to set an alarm for early November, COVID-19 now has us all arguing about bits of tin.

When Black Lives Matter and its usual two sides of debate rolled around yet again, I did not bother posting anything on my Instagram or Twitter. I saw it as boring and bandwagoning. Whenever we have these debates, two sides of usual suspects come out and repeat the same old arguments with nobody being persuaded to change sides and everyone going home with much the same opinions.

I am a staunch supporter of BLM and racial equality. As a middle class, comp-ed, countryside-raised, heterosexual, white boy, I spent a long old time at university educating myself on the history of colonialism, the civil rights movement and traditions of BAME activism since ‘Britain outlawed slavery’ in 1833. Self-education makes you a more rounded, better person.

When everyone posted black squares on Instagram and merrily hash-tagged, it actually angered me. Well done, cheers for noticing the rest of the world. It only took you being furloughed during a pandemic to ‘clap for our NHS’ and to behave in a personable way to supermarket staff, to eventually spare a thought about mental health and finally - after pausing to wheezily bend double and applaud your profession as the real heroes in all this, your eyes have fallen on centuries of structural racism. Anyone want some academic essays on Angola? Thought not. Pat yourselves on the back anyway, I’ll be back in a sec.

Spurred on by another round of phoney interest, the real activists are now looking to press for some actual change and turns out that the way to make Gary ‘n’ Sandra really squeal is to blow a raspberry at their sainted bits of tin. Going for the Cenotaph always gets the debate in the press but picking something visual that dads on Facebook can’t moralise about is a much better way of keeping it there. So, we end up with Robert Baden-Powell being 24 hour protected by some furloughed painter and decorator in a pop up tent. Bloke clearly just drank too much poster paint in primary school and his wife was fed up with his horrible sexism cluttering up the kitchen for the last twelve weeks. “But the boys dewn the yard larff” he protests.

People were on the news openly and happily offering to fight those that would vandalise the statue. Well bring it on pal, I’ll have a war of words. Here are some of his from 1933: it "augers well for the future of Italy” to see that Benito Mussolini had turned scouting into a nationalist youth. 100 years on from ‘Britain outlawing slavery’ but the nation’s elite had yet to get past fascism.

In 1939 your man’s diary was praising Mein Kampf as "a wonderful book, with good ideas on education, health, propaganda, organisation etc.” Either help me move Robert a few feet closer to his precious Brownsea Island or I’m throwing you in after that bigoted old goat. Oh and, you might have agreed about the aforementioned virtue signallers that only care when they choose. Well if it has taken ‘they’re getting rid of moi statyew’ for you to finally give a fuck about civil rights and Britain’s colonial past then you are hardly better.

Part time Timothy Dalton impersonator and full time MP for Bournemouth East, Tobias Ellwood has been doing the Zoom media rounds today spouting off a manicured line about how statues need protecting because “we cannot hold historical figures to ‘21st Century standards’”. Ok, sure. It is fairer he agrees, to hold them to the standard of the day in which they were erected. Poole’s statue of Baden-Powell was erected in 2008. Tobias somehow has a majority of over 8,000.

At this point Danny and Stacie have looked away from Instagram and towards the most dystopian part of Snapchat – the ‘news’ section. They are aghast. “They’re banning Little Britain? Oh no, Come Fly With Me too?!”. Where will they get their crass racial stereotypes from now? Soon they calm down and it’s back to subconscious circling of the wagons “What’s next, Chinese Alan off Gavin and Stacey? HA HA HAH”. Twitter’s Tory Boys spin the yarn that this is “comparable to censure” which yes is true in the very loosest sense that both are indeed things. Comparable in the same way are nihilism and toast.

Best idea of the day has come from Mark Howell, an Independent Councillor on Poole’s Council and its Deputy Leader. He pushed for a Museum of Scouting to be built nearby to celebrate the movement and attract tourism. Great plan. Let’s take the statue in there as the main attraction. He can even look out a window at his precious island as I rampage around in combat chamo stomping on red squirrels like how Jonny Kingdom terrorises Dartmoor.

Seriously though, the Museum is a good idea and would help the local economy. Big market too, which will have grown following the news story. Just make sure to include a section of the tour for information on RBP’s dark side too, complete with a couple of donation boxes for some charitable causes.

Deeps

[qualquercoisa945]

Thank You For Taking A Chance On Me

Title Inspiration: Next To Me by Imagine Dragons

AO3 Link

hi yes so anyways this is one of those classic Kids Run Away From Abusive Home And Are Adopted By Caring Parent stories but parr and kitty are the kids and jane is the parent, this is all self indulgent fluff as a celebration for it being mother’s day here in portugal!!

the au as a whole is called Next To Me, idk if i’ll be posting anything about it but yee

trigger warnings: none that i can think of, but please do tell me if there’s anything you’d like me to tag

Catherine Parr had never paid much attention to anniversaries and the like, apart from her sister’s of course. They were rarely celebrated at their old house, and so she simply never cared.

Kitty, on the other hand, seemed to had a near photographic memory for them, remembering even small things like the day she got a gift. Which was why she wasn’t surprised that it was Kitty who, nearly two months before the actual date, first brought it all up, when Catherine was doing her homework in Kitty’s room for a change and Kitty was laying on her bed, reading a book Jane had recently given her.

“Cathy?” Kitty asked softly from where she was laying, which made Catherine look up from the text she’d been working on all afternoon.

“What’s up, kid?” She asked, turning around to face Kitty, who’d moved to let her head hang off the bed.

“The anniversary of our adoption is coming up, right?”

This made Catherine blink, before turning to look at the calendar she kept on her table. “That’s… two months away, Kitty.” She bit back a laugh, before turning back towards her. “Don’t you think it’s a little early to be thinking about it?”

“I mean yeah, but this is a big deal!” Kitty pulled herself up to sit cross legged, turning to face her. “This is the first time we have an actual parent. And it’s gonna be a year then! This is important.”

This made Catherine pause, then nod. “Alright, fair enough. What about it?”

“Well, we gotta give her a gift! And this has to be really really really good, so we gotta start thinking, like, now!” Kitty giggled softly, before her face turned serious. “But, yeah, we gotta make this count.”

Catherine nodded, standing up before walking over, sitting beside her on the bed. She wasn’t sure why, but she’d noticed ideas seemed to flow better the closer she was to Kitty.

And so, the two sat there for a while- Catherine couldn’t be sure how long- until Catherine noticed Kitty play with the ring she wore like a medallion, since it was much too big for her.

The family tradition, on their biological mum’s side, or at least so she was told, was that every girl was given a ring by the oldest woman alive once she was born. She’d admittedly been surprised that Kitty had gotten one as well, considering their biological mum was nearly disowned by the time she had been born, but she did.

Admittedly, she could tell the family didn’t care about whether or not the ring fit once Kitty had grown up, but with Catherine she’d been lucky enough to have it fit. She looked down at her hand, staring at her own ring.

It was a simple silver band, with “Catherine” embedded in it in cursive. She’d used the concept in short stories before, but usually it came up as children throwing their own away because of bad relationships with their parents.

She’d considered doing that with hers multiple times, but ultimately decided against it, for one reason only- Kitty hadn’t. And she wasn’t going to throw something that connected her and Kitty even with the negative connotations it carried.

Giving one to Jane though…

“Hey. What about we give Jane a ring?” She squeezed Kitty’s shoulder ever so slightly, just to get her to turn around, and then brought her hand up so the ring was within her line of sight.

Kitty stared at her hand in confusion for a moment, then gasped. “Ohmygod that’s perfect!” She exclaimed with a grin, which caused Catherine to chuckle.

And so it was decided. They talked to Anne for help organizing the whole thing, and a plan was formed- three weeks before the date itself, they’d sleep at Anne’s from Friday to Saturday, going back home on Saturday night. During the day however, they’d go to the same ring shop where other women in the shop went to make theirs. Anne would go back to get it once it was done, and give it to them a week or so before the anniversary.

Catherine had been saving up for a while by then, not to mention tutoring kids as a side job, so she knew she’d be able to buy one herself, but Anne had offered, or better yet insisted, to help pay, which Catherine appreciated, despite being a little annoyed by it.

Five weeks passed by and suddenly it was the weekend they were going to spend at Anne’s. Catherine was in her room, finishing packing up, when she went to her nightstand, unlocking the top drawer, where she kept more personal items- her diary, the last two diaries she filled up, tickets she’d bought to go visit places with Kitty and, more recently, Jane, and one photo- of the last time she’d seen her father.

She put her current diary in her bag, then grabbed the photo. It was a picture of her dad, herself, and Kitty, in front of Buckingham Palace. She turned the photo around, reading the date she’d written on the back: 12/08/2013.

Oh, right. She’d spent her tenth birthday with her father, and somehow she’d convinced her parents to let them take Kitty along. It had been the one time she’d met her dad, and she doubted she remembered much about him, but she still carried that day as a treasured memory.

And then another idea came to mind.

“Good thing Anne offered to help pay for the ring.” She muttered to herself, while she put the photo back in the drawer and locked it again.

Three weeks passed by like three days and suddenly it was the anniversary- 05/05/2019. They’d decided not to do anything too big, just stay at home and be around each other, which worked just fine for all three of them.

Later at night, when they were both watching TV cuddled up together, Catherine turned around to look at the other two when she felt Jane move, in time to watch her squeeze Kitty’s shoulder. “Time for bed, love.”

Kitty looked at Jane, then at Catherine, who gave her a small nod, before she turned back to look at Jane. “One thing first, yeah?” She asked, unusually serious.

Jane blinked, nodding slowly. “Alright then, what is it?”

“Gimme a second.” And with that, Kitty stood up and raced upstairs.

Jane turned to look at Catherine, clearly looking for an explanation, but the latter just chuckled. “Just give her a moment, it’ll make sense then.” She promised, leaning closer. She felt Jane wrap her arm around her gently, and she smiled softly to herself.

Just a couple minutes later, Kitty returned, something clenched tightly in her hand. Catherine felt Jane lean forward as Kitty walked towards them, curiosity clear in her gaze. “What do you have there, love?”

Kitty sat beside Jane, and Catherine leaned over to watch Jane’s reaction as Kitty opened her hand, revealing a simple silver band, with “Jane” embedded in it in the same cursive her and Kitty’s rings had their own names embedded in it.

“It’s a family tradition.” Catherine explained as she noticed Jane’s look of confusion. “Me and Kitty have one too.” She held out her hand to show her own ring, while Kitty took off the necklace and set it beside Jane’s ring.

“And you’re our family.” Kitty continued, smiling. “So, we got you one.”

Catherine watched as Jane stared at the ring, then smiled and slipped it onto her hand. “Thank you, loves.” She brought both girls into a hug, that Catherine leaned against before reaching her hand out to hold Kitty’s.

The three stayed there for a while, before Catherine heard Kitty yawn. She squeezed her hand lightly, standing up and gently pulling her along. “C’mon kid, time for bed.”

Once she was sure Kitty was fast asleep, Catherine slipped into her own room. She unlocked the top drawer of the nightstand, where she’d been keeping her own gift for Jane.

She walked back downstairs, the gift in her pocket. She felt her heartbeat quicken as anxious thoughts she’d been having ever since she got it. She tried to push them back, and yet just as quickly as she’d banish them, they’d flood her mind again.

So she simply ignored them, walking over to sit beside Jane on the couch. She felt herself be pulled closer, and then Jane kissing the top of her head. “Thank you.” She murmured, which made Catherine smile softly.

“Hey, it’s no big deal, really.” She guaranteed, turning around to look at her mum. “I have one more thing for you, though.”

“Oh love, there was no ne-.” “But I wanted to.” Catherine cut her off. “Plus you’re always spoiling us. Let us spoil you for once, yeah?” She noticed Jane’s eyeroll, and for a moment she was worried she’d overstepped, but then she spoke.

“Alright then, love. What is it?” Catherine smiled softly at the affectionate term, then reached into her pocket, pulling out what seemed like just an ordinary key.

“It’s the key to the top drawer of my nightstand.” She began explaining before Jane could even react. “It’s where I keep more private stuff. I kept the key you gave me, no one else had a copy besides Kitty.” She paused for a moment, then exhaled shakily. “But I trust you. So, yeah.”

Jane stared at the key for what felt like an eternity, and those thoughts quickly came flooding back during that time, but then Jane took the key and put it in her pocket, before pulling Catherine into a tight hug.

“Thank you, love. For trusting me enough to do this.” Jane murmured and Catherine felt herself relax in her hold.

“No big de-” “Yes it is. I know how hard it can be for you to trust me. I’m proud of you, Cathy.” Jane cut her off, and not for the first time that day Catherine felt her bottom lip tremble.

“I love you mum.” She eventually mumbled.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

[prettylittlelyres]

Inside the Writing Process - Part 5

I’ve been so excited about the ideas this chart has given me for Violins and Violets, so I’m making this fifth “Inside the Writing Process” post about it. It’s immensely useful for...

Expanding a Story into a Series

OK, so I’m sure a lot of people with ADHD have seen this going around and related to it a lot, but I think a lot of writers could relate to it as well in terms of things that can distract us from the main points of our WIPs (and of course some writers have ADHD anyway).

I saw a copy of this chart on Facebook yesterday, and it got me thinking. Disclaimer: I don’t know if I have ADHD (I have executive dysfunction and a lot of trouble concentrating, but I don’t know why, and don’t have time or energy to get it looked into), but it did get me thinking.

It made me think about how to organise my expansions of the world around my WIP Violins and Violets (currently seeking beta readers), because I wanted to address a lot of things in the book that just weren’t practical to address (because there’s only so much you can put in a book without it become completely unreadable. This is why I’ve never finished Kushiel’s Dart by Jacqueline Carey, even though I love it, especially all the beautiful world building... it’s just too much to hold in my head). It was always in my mind that I could solve this problem (too many ideas for one book) quite simply, by writing more books.

This is a really long post, I know, but if you want to learn a fun way to come up with ideas for prequels, sequels and companion books for your story, keep reading! It’s a little bit like the snowflake method, and of course you can then use that to expand each individual idea that you have. It’s also available in shorter form here.

I’d been letting ideas for storylines involving other characters rustle around in my head since I finished the first draft of Violins and Violets in August... and then I saw this yesterday, and realised it would be a pretty good place to start thinking about the ideas that I do have, and listing them in relation to the main storyline of Violins and Violets. I spent about an hour writing down everything, just letting it all spill from my head, and this is what came up.

(Side note: I really do adore Pukka Pads Irlen refill pads. Another thing I may or may not have is Irlen syndrome, which would explain why I can’t read off white backgrounds for very long, and why my eyes hurt if I try. All I know for sure is that these pads help me so, so much, and they come in very gorgeous colours! These pages are from the “rose” pad, but I use “lavender” ones as well, a very soft and relaxing pale purple.)

Expanding Violins and Violets

Pre-Story Prologue for “Context”

Write down all ideas about character backstories to help you develop a prequel (or set of prequels) by exploring those.

Magdalena’s upbringing and Conservatory training with Dorota and Maja (these characters also never appear in Violins and Violets (with the exception of Magdalena) but I really want to explore their lives, going into more detail about Dorota and Maja’s relationship, how they raised Magdalena as their daughter, how they met, and Dorota’s fight to get Magdalena an education).

Käthe and Hansi touring Europe with their music. I’d be missing out on the opportunity to portray a fun sibling dynamic like the Mozart siblings had if I didn’t write this story. However, I do feel it might be better suited to a series of short stories, a collection of small standalone pieces, than a full-length novel, but it’s early days, and I have a lot else to do for this project in the meantime.

Franz and Julia’s early marriage/courtship, particularly how it really only happened once they were married; it would go a long way to explaining why Katharina’s parents are so relaxed about her having an arranged marriage; they genuinely believe it’ll work for her, like it worked for them (and they’re not entirely wrong, but that’s quite literally another story).

Start of Story

Consider all the characters involved in the main story, and ask yourself what’s going on in their lives that the protagonist doesn’t see. If a character only appears partway through the story, ask them what they were doing before.

Katharina goes to Prague (which is of course the main story of Violins and Violets).

Hans tours Europe with a comically large and ever-increasing pet entourage (this post goes into that in proper detail!).

Renée finds her way to Malá Strana and makes friends with Magdalena. Not for a second does she realise that a) Magdalena is with Katharina or b) that she, Renée, is in love with both of them. And then she meets the man who becomes her husband, also a big bi disaster, and Realises™.

Johann and Wilhelm meet at university; they’re both Law students. This would be a fun opportunity to take a step into the Dark Academia genre, but I’m not exactly sure what I’d do with them. Perhaps a poetic treasure hunt sort of mystery love confession? (I know already that this will be tricky because I manage to write about two proper poems a year and I’ve already written one in 2019, for Violins and Violets. I may have to put this off for a while.)

Semi-related side-story

Now think about the characters who come and go in the story and think about why that happens. Develop the stories of what they do after they leave.

Herr Benes and his boyfriend have a marvellous time in Budapest, enjoying their retirement away from the scrutiny Benes faces in the Malá Strana Opera House in Prague.

Herr Havelka is a devious and sacriligeous boi, also a sneaky bastard, but why is that? What other yuck things does he do after he leaves the Malá Strana? What is the origin of his malice?

Herr Janda retires and leaves Katharina (or Sebastian) in charge of the Malá Strana Opera House, but how does he spend his retirement? What does he think of Katharina’s continued work after she’s discovered? He’s a composer, himself, so I want to explore the compositions he works on, later in life. Maybe he’s quite inspired by Katharina both in terms of technique and ideas for music to compose in her honour.

Magdalena’s husband, Bartolomeǰ, runs a bookshop, and this is how they meet. He’s a big fan of Katharina’s music, and gets to know a lot of his regular customers. What are their stories? Who are his friends? What do they think of Magdalena? What do they think of Katharina?

Wait, OK, back to the main story

If you’re a fan of time-jumps, then a) Violins and Violets might be right up your street because it has a massive one, and b) this is probably a good and useful step for you. If not, maybe not. But ask what happens in the time-jump and then write about it. What stories can you tell about the space in between one part of your story and the other?

I want to explore Katharina's life in Salzburg, her friendship with Johann, Wilhlem, Lulu and her family, and her reconciliation with her parents after so many years apart. They're not angry at her, nor she at them, but things aren’t perfect between them, especially while they’re grieving Hans, and I want to look at that.

Something I just now remembered

Do you ever get deep down a rabbit hole, thinking about your story, and realise part of it you’d never thought about particularly deeply is actually very sad or very happy or makes you angry? Go into detail about it.

Magdalena and Bartolomeǰ never have any children born to them, but they're everyone’s Cool Aunt and Cool Uncle, and are basically extra parents to Evžen after Bartolomeǰ took him on as an apprentice.

Magdalena and Renée never lose touch after Renée leaves to marry, and Magdalena also stays in touch with Herr Benes, and they each eventually figure out the other is bi (Magdalena) and gay (Herr Benes), and have many fun letter exchanges not dissimilar to meetings in a Lesbian Crying Cupboard. I love their friendships and I want to dive into them more than I could from Katharina’s perspective alone. Imagine something like Lemony Snicket’s The Beatrice Letters, and you have some idea of the absolutely delicious format I’d want for this--because it wouldn’t be a traditional prose novel; it would be mostly epistolary, and for that, I need something a little different--all the letters bound together in a collection along with diary entries from the characters, ticket stubs from operas, playbills, pictures of gifts they send each other over the years, absolutely everything. A treasure trove and a mammoth project, but I am so entranced by this idea! The Baroque/Rococo aesthetic of the late 18th century is right up my street.

Wrap up story and finally get to the point/end of story

I’m, uh... not excellent at fully understanding the sentiment of instructions, but I feel less bad about (deliberately) misinterpreting this one, because I do so to have it mean “create an epilogue/a sequel”. Write down any ideas you have to that end.

Lulu’s children all grow up to follow careers in music. Hanna becomes an opera singer following help from Katharina and Magdalena to get her into a Conservatory in Berlin. Minna becomes a highly renowned composer (arguably a successor to Katharina), and Theo... well, I’m not exactly sure what he does, but that’s the point. I don’t have to know just yet. All I need to know is that I want to find out.

After grieving Johann, Wilhelm finds happiness and new love. Perhaps he brings his new partner to Prague, or perhaps he meets him there. That’s something I want to explore, as is...

...Herr Benes’ return to Prague with his boyfriend, meeting Wilhelm and his boyfriend (boyfriends for everyone. In this house we write gay joy or we write nothing (or we write angst)). Maybe there follow some nice rag-tag-band-of-elders adventures (quite literally a band, too, since they’ll all be musicians) and/or shenanigans. Do they all--with Katharina and Magdalena, of course--go on a fun trip to Salzburg and Eggwald together? That would be rather lovely. Some kind of Best Exotic Marigold Hotel story. Happiness.

Too many details/lose train of thought

Now’s your chance to get away from the main story! Ah, the guilty pleasure of AUs. Ah, the even more fun version of AU-related guilty pleasure where you get to write AUs of your very own novel! Go on. You deserve it, because you wrote a whole novel and you’ve read it at least as many times as you’ve drafted it... but you still want more content. You want to see how these characters that you love will cope in different worlds, different situations, different everything. Go for it. And if you have any details about the far-flung prelude or coda to the story (music terminology drop? Who’s that? I don’t know her), get into those, too. You know the ones I mean. The ones where you discuss the impact of the storyline on people centuries later, or get into the creation story of the world your characters live in.

I was fool enough to start thinking about a Vampire!AU of Violins and Violets before I had finished the first draft of the actual book. But that’s going on this list, because I have already written a slightly-related one-shot, Daughter, and I certainly don’t plan for that to be the only thing I ever make for it.

Violins and Violets and Varsity - a high school AU I’ve been thinking about since December 2018 - drawing on my experiences playing Swing Band and Pit Band in secondary school. It would be set in the UK, though, and characters would have more Anglophone-sounding names. I have some ideas for this written down somewhere in my computer, but, for now, I’m just going to leave you with the names, because I’m not certain I’m super happy about the current premise for the plot.

Katharina - Kate

Magdalena - Maddie

Hans - Henry

Bartolomeǰ - Bart

Renée - Rena

Going back to the dark academia mentioned earlier, I think it could be interesting to explore--not a modern AU, but in the modern day--how people now would look back on the lives of the characters from Violins and Violets had they really existed. I grew up not far from Reading, where an original handwritten manuscript of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was found in a charity shop in 2011, and I want to take that idea and run so, so far with it. I adore dark academia, as my followers will know, and it seems like a perfect chance to combine my knowledge of Music History and Music Theory with my current studies of Sociolinguistics. Here’s what I’m thinking:

Music History students team up with Sociolinguistics students to study the letters exchanged between the characters and coming to realise that everyone involved was a big and lovely Queer Disaster in some way or other, and that Katharina and Magdalena, as Johann and Wilhelm, were in love. And then all the students fall in love, too, because dark academia plus romance is my downfall (hence my current WIP, She Has No Name).

Steps I missed out of this process, I missed out because I couldn’t think of ways to relate them to my storyline. Those are:

What was I talking about?

Realise I’ve been talking too long.

Apologise.

If you can think of ideas to go along with those steps (although I’m hesitant to encourage anyone to apologise for what they write), too, go for it, and please let me know! I love hearing about everything you write! Now I dare you to have a go at this process for planning expansions of your story.

[poetic-beats]

Criticism?

If you want to give me helpful feedback I am ALL EARS. Because that is why i post on a forum and have been for way before i made this blog like 2 years ago.

I LOVE to hear constructive thoughts on how to improve.

However I really do not get people who seemingly have seen little of my work. Especially since alot of my original posts to this blog were not what i considered ‘poetry’ in its most traditional sense a lot were in quote format and more like short prose...or those 6-10 word stories/poems.

Some were more statements and diary style entries hence the excerpts from a book i’ll never write tag.

Others maybe could be considered very very short poems but i guess it was not what i consider to be poetry poetry.

The stuff on the forum is the stuff i post more frequently now on here. 

Its not about length as such but also layout structure rhyme or no rhyme free flow etc.

Just all of it. 

And unfortunately the forum bugs out and stops counting after 500 poems on the main page but i know i have done quite a bit more than that because the no. has been stuck at 500 for months now.

If i go into categories i have posted my poems in less than 10% will be under the love category and within that are sad love poems.

So the comment i received today on a positive poem about love and support from  a partner during tough times being the same as every other piece of work i always write has baffled me.

I am making a deal out of it i guess by making this post and not just ignoring and moving on bcause i guess im wondering now is that how i am viewed am i just generic and spouting the same stuff over and over again? Are you my followers/readers tired of my poems?

Is there any feedback I can receive anon or not? Is there any other topics you would like to see me write about?

And also I kinda feel like when youve amassed over 500 poems around mostly niche topics like mental health specifically bipolar depression anxiety and BPD for the most part that there is gonna be similarities in the words i write. because i mean how many ways can you really talk about such a thing that makes it totally unique from your past works or even other peoples works on that subject matter.

Then we get into the philosophical debate of is anything ever truly original and unique anymore?

I dont know...And also honestly yes i want to improve my writing YES i want to write things that others find solace or happiness in or they can relate too. or that makes people FEEL something strongly etc.

But the only reason i ever started writing was for ME..a coping mechanism to handle my undiagnosed at the time mental illnesses and once i got diagnosed nothing changed. In fact by that point i had fallen in love with written word. 

I then focused on really improving and honing my poetry through advice on the forum i am a part of.

I want to write good poetry but first and foremost i do ultimately write for myself and to help me cope with stress in my life. So many nights recently ive wanted to die and self harm and instead ive sat at my laptop and just written poetry instead and its the thread that keeps me hanging on to life. 

It is my failsafe when all else is going wrong i have my voice through poetry to rely on. I dont know why but I just can’t say what i want to express about how I am depressed through voice or letter unless it in poetic form. I just find something about poetry itself as an easier vessel to express my emotions than any other form of writing! 

Anyways so YES please message me with other topics you would like me to write about and please if you have ANY helpful advice dont be afraid to message me anon or not just so long as you keep it civil dont outright trash me and just suggest how i could improve in a non confrontational manner we’ll be good!

[timouke]

I mean I tried xD and I miserably failed

Get to know me tag!

OOOH THIS TOOK FOREVER

I was tagged by the wonderful and amazing @racingllama! Thanks a lot! This was a lot of fun!

RULES : Post a pic of your simself with your traits and answer the questions!

I think my traits would be: clumsy, dog lover, and geek!

I now tag @sweezlee, @coliemoon4sims4 @chimaerae @nadi-nadi @artemisa02 @newerquality @electricsoftie @caramellet @petitesimss @redyuyu @sailing-simmer @markslatina @blurri-sim-kid @ilovesaramoonkids and anyone who wants to do it!

1. WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME? Aidee

2. WHAT IS YOUR NICKNAME? Heidi, Pimpo, Bro, Loyis:)

3. BIRTHDAY? February 21!

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE BOOK SERIES? aNY. I love books. I love romance, action, comedy. Anything.

5. DO YOU BELIEVE IN ALIENS OR GHOSTS? None, but I do believe in alien ghosts.

6. WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE AUTHOR? I’m gonna get killed for this but... Veronica Roth?

7. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE RADIO STATION? 99.9 I love Delilah

8. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FLAVOR OF ANYTHING? Sweetsweetsweetsweet

9. WHAT WORD WOULD YOU USE OFTEN TO DESCRIBE SOMETHING GREAT OR WONDERFUL? AmazeBALLS :D.

10. WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT FAVORITE SONG? Ehrm... that’s a hard one. Paper Crowns by Alec Benjamin

11. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE WORD? Doggo

12. WHAT WAS THE LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO? Paper Crowns by Alec Benjamin xD I’m I too predictable?

13. WHAT TV SHOW WOULD YOU RECOMMEND FOR EVERYBODY TO WATCH? Devilman Crybaby, don’t judge me!

14. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE TO WATCH WHEN YOU’RE FEELING DOWN? Nothing with dogs in it, or I cry

15. DO YOU PLAY VIDEO GAMES? Yep! I play Zelda and hORROR RPG’s

16. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR? (incoming cliche answer) being forgotten.

17. WHAT IS YOUR BEST QUALITY, IN YOUR OPINION? I can sense when people don’t have good intentions, that’s why I have almost no friends.

18. WHAT IS YOUR WORST QUALITY, IN YOUR OPINION? Read above answer!

19. DO YOU LIKE CATS OR DOGS BETTER? Cats.

20. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON? Winter because of Christmas and my Birthday!

21. ARE YOU IN A RELATIONSHIP? I am told to say no.

22. WHAT IS SOMETHING YOU MISS FROM YOUR CHILDHOOD? I could be days without showering without feeling guilty!

23. WHO IS YOUR BEST FRIEND? Loyis, but she’s in Germany right now. And I’m not, which is sad.

24. WHAT IS YOUR EYE COLOR? Brownish black? Blackish brown?

25. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOR? I grabbed one hair and it was black, and I grabbed another one and it was brown, now my life is in shambles..

26. WHO IS SOMEONE YOU LOVE? LOYISSSS COME BACK TO MEEE

27. WHO IS SOMEONE YOU TRUST? EHEM. LOYIS COME BACK TO ME.

28. WHO IS SOMEONE YOU THINK ABOUT OFTEN? AHHHH *throws myself to the ground* (loyis)

29. ARE YOU CURRENTLY EXCITED ABOUT/FOR SOMETHING? Yep! Answering these questions!

30. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST OBSESSION? Sims, anime, my dogs. That’s my laifu.

31. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TV SHOW AS A CHILD? I loved the shows everyone now considers bad, like Johnny Test or Kick Buttowski, but Dragon Ball Z was my childhood.

32. WHO OF THE OPPOSITE GENDER CAN YOU TELL ANYTHING TO, IF ANYONE? I’m not allowed to answer this question or I’ll cry

33. ARE YOU SUPERSTITIOUS? Only if my grandma is present. She makes everyone superstitious, she is a witch, in the good sense.

34. DO YOU HAVE ANY UNUSUAL PHOBIAS? I’m afraid of flushing the toilet. Don’t ask! Yes, I do flush the toilet.

35. DO YOU PREFER TO BE IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA OR BEHIND IT? Yes.

36. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE HOBBY? Anything in front of a computer.

37. WHAT WAS THE LAST BOOK YOU READ? The Psychoanalist by I don’t remember who, but his style is a little too slow and descriptive!

38. WHAT WAS THE LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald. Now I’m in love with Newt. He’s mine now.

39. WHAT MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS DO YOU PLAY, IF ANY? None, but my brother is a musical prodigy so that’s something.

40. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ANIMAL? Not dogs.

41. WHAT ARE YOUR TOP 5 FAVORITE TUMBLR BLOGS THAT YOU FOLLOW? Everyone! Every single person in the sims community is super talented!

42. WHAT SUPERPOWER DO YOU WISH YOU HAD? I request mind reading.

43. WHEN AND WHERE DO YOU FEEL MOST AT PEACE? When I sleep, when I’m not thinking.

44. WHAT MAKES YOU SMILE? My doggos, specially all of them.

45. WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY, IF ANY? Ice skating but it hurts a ton

46. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE DRINK? Milk

47. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A HAND-WRITTEN LETTER OR NOTE TO SOMEBODY? What’s that, “hand-written” you speak of?

48. ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS? No, I am heights.

49. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE? Stupid people (me)

50. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN TO A CONCERT? Yep, it’s kinda like a tradition in my family to go to one every year!

51. ARE YOU VEGAN/VEGETARIAN? No.

52. WHEN YOU WERE LITTLE, WHAT DID YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GREW UP? A veterinarian, but I couldn’t!

53. WHAT FICTIONAL WORLD WOULD YOU LIKE TO LIVE IN? Whatever world Bleach is set in. I wanna marry Ichigo Kurosaki.

54. WHAT IS SOMETHING YOU WORRY ABOUT? Yep, everything everything everything

55. ARE YOU SCARED OF THE DARK? Nope, I am darkness

56. DO YOU LIKE TO SING? Sure, but I can’t, I sing like a sick cat.

57. HAVE YOU EVER SKIPPED SCHOOL? What’s that “school” you speak of?

58. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE ON THE PLANET? My room

59. WHERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO LIVE? In Japan! Anywhere in Japan! Just in Japan!

60. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? Yep! I have three fake huskies

61. ARE YOU MORE OF AN EARLY BIRD OR A NIGHT OWL? Both. I never sleep. What’s sleep?

62. DO YOU LIKE SUNRISES OR SUNSETS BETTER? Sunsets, I prefer nighttime!

63. DO YOU KNOW HOW TO DRIVE? Nope, I honestly should learn.

64. DO YOU PREFER EARBUDS OR HEADPHONES? Earbuds, they’re cute and tiny.

65. HAVE YOU EVER HAD BRACES? Yep, I’m in fact wearing  them right now! How did you know?

66. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE GENRE OF MUSIC? Early 2000′s scene music.

67. WHO IS YOUR HERO? My dad

68. DO YOU READ COMIC BOOKS? Yep. All the time. I am a comic book

69. WHAT MAKES YOU THE MOST ANGRY? NOT FINISHING STUFF. I MUST FINISH THIS THING.

70. DO YOU PREFER TO READ ON AN ELECTRONIC DEVICE OR WITH A REAL BOOK? A real book! I like to hold them and the smell!

71. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL? Recess

72. DO YOU HAVE ANY SIBLINGS? I have between 1 and 3 brothers

73. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU BOUGHT? A snack! It was yummy

74. HOW TALL ARE YOU? 1.55 inches.

75. CAN YOU COOK? Nope, who needs food anyways?

76. WHAT ARE THREE THINGS THAT YOU LOVE? My dogs, my life and myself!

77. WHAT ARE THREE THINGS THAT YOU HATE? My dogs, my life and myself!:)

78. DO YOU HAVE MORE FEMALE FRIENDS OR MORE MALE FRIENDS? I don’t know, I haven’t counted them!

79. WHAT IS YOUR SEXUAL ORIENTATION? Who needs labels?

80. WHERE DO YOU CURRENTLY LIVE? Juarez, Chihuahua. You’ll never find it.

81. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TEXTED? The love of my life!

82. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? Right now. I’m crying right now.

83. WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE YOUTUBER? Joanna Cedia. I stan.

84. DO YOU LIKE TO TAKE SELFIES? I guess?

85. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE APP? Tumblr!

86. WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR PARENT(S) LIKE? I think it’s pretty good!

87. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FOREIGN ACCENT? German.

88. WHAT IS A PLACE THAT YOU’VE NEVER BEEN TO, BUT YOU WANT TO VISIT? Germany, i’d like to see my grandpa’s home country!

89. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NUMBER? 42. It’s the answer to everything.

90. CAN YOU JUGGLE? Yep. No. Im juggling right now.

91. ARE YOU RELIGIOUS? I guess not.

92. DO YOU FIND OUTER SPACE OF THE DEEP OCEAN TO BE MORE INTERESTING? The ocean. It is a beautiful void.

93. DO YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF TO BE A DAREDEVIL? No, I’m too wholesome for that.

94. ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO ANYTHING? Nope!

95. CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE? Yes!

96. CAN YOU WIGGLE YOUR EARS? No, but I know someone who can!

97. HOW OFTEN DO YOU ADMIT THAT YOU WERE WRONG ABOUT SOMETHING? I’m never wrong!

98. DO YOU PREFER THE FOREST OR THE BEACH? The forest!

99. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PIECE OF ADVICE THAT ANYONE HAS EVER GIVEN YOU? Never leave things unfinished!

100. ARE YOU A GOOD LIAR? Nope. I can’t do that.

101. WHAT IS YOUR HOGWARTS HOUSE? Hufflepuff. We rock.

102. DO YOU TALK TO YOURSELF? No! Stop exposing me!

103. ARE YOU AN INTROVERT OR AN EXTROVERT? I’m definitely an introvert!

104. DO YOU KEEP A JOURNAL/DIARY? I have tried! But I’ve never been able to complete one.

105. DO YOU BELIEVE IN SECOND CHANCES? Yep.

106. IF YOU FOUND A WALLET FULL OF MONEY ON THE GROUND, WHAT WOULD YOU DO? I don’t know. I know I wouldn’t keep it!

107. DO YOU BELIEVE THAT PEOPLE ARE CAPABLE OF CHANGE? Definitely.

108. ARE YOU TICKLISH? Yes. A lot. Don’t touch me.

109. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON A PLANE? Yep!

110. DO YOU HAVE ANY PIERCINGS? My ears!

111. WHAT FICTIONAL CHARACTER DO YOU WISH WAS REAL? Ichigo Kurosaki! Let me marry him!

112. DO YOU HAVE ANY TATTOOS? Nope! But I’m planning on getting some!

113. WHAT IS THE BEST DECISION THAT YOU’VE MADE IN YOUR LIFE SO FAR? I don’t know, my life isn’t over yet.

114. DO YOU BELIEVE IN KARMA? Yep!

115. DO YOU WEAR GLASSES OR CONTACTS? Glasses but you’ll never catch me wearing them!

116. DO YOU WANT CHILDREN? No.

117. WHO IS THE SMARTEST PERSON YOU KNOW? My dad, I think.

118. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRASSING MEMORY? I’ll not tell you!

119. HAVE YOU EVER PULLED AN ALL-NIGHTER? I never sleep. I always pull all-nighters.

120. WHAT COLOR ARE MOST OF YOU CLOTHES? Void.

121. DO YOU LIKE ADVENTURES? YEP! Let’s go on one right now!

122. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON TV? I guess, even accidentally. Maybe everyone has been on TV.

123. HOW OLD ARE YOU? 18

124. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE QUOTE? “What if it doesn’t work out? Ah, but what if it does?”

125. DO YOU PREFER SWEET OR SAVORY FOODS? What is savory? I onLY KNOW SWEET!

[realbacchus]

I posted 8,998 times in 2021

994 posts created (11%)

8004 posts reblogged (89%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 8.1 posts.

I added 153 tags in 2021

#spirit: stallion of the cimarron - 55 posts

#yeah - 25 posts

#ok - 12 posts

#web weaving - 11 posts

#lmao - 11 posts

#yes - 10 posts

#anyway - 10 posts

#the untamed - 7 posts

#i - 6 posts

#chaos walking - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#straight guy geologist describing a vertically oriented igneous intrusion to his buddy: it’s a . well. i’m not sure i can reclaim this one

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Was a Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron blog for 24 hours on 9/13 and 9/14. Now I'm an everything blog again! (Still keeping the icon for now)

12 notes • Posted 2021-09-15 03:18:22 GMT

#4

Forgot the title of Pacific Rim so just said "big monster, big metal" and my brother got it at least

13 notes • Posted 2021-08-03 17:25:14 GMT

#3

Me going thru my drafts more like *a million posts where I try to explain that I am attached to Roque but I'm really truly not a bad person*

22 notes • Posted 2021-06-27 07:48:18 GMT

#2

Was bury your gays committed in Dark Age? Yes.

Source: I'm queer and sad

54 notes • Posted 2021-02-04 03:13:31 GMT

#1

Hey kids, day 7!

Favorite LGBTQ+ books!

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan

One of my all time favorite books, even if it took me a while to get into it. 

We get to follow Elliot as he explores his connection to this world as he goes to school in a magic land. In his five years at school in this other land he meets so many cool people (Luke and Serene my beloveds) and some very awesome creatures (mermaids, harpies, trolls, and so much more!) 

Elliot is also canonically bisexual (like me), and has many meaningful relationships, same sex and not, which is so refreshing to read!

Would absolutely recommend people read when they have a chance!

Another book I absolutely love is Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas.

Everything about this book is wonderful, the plot, the characters, everything! I enjoyed getting to read something with a different culture and identities!

Yadriel is a trans boy who we see working to prove his gender to his traditional lantinx family. In doing so he summons the ghost of Julian... well, I don’t want to give anything away!

I sincerely loved reading this book, and want to read everything by Aiden Thomas now!

Read it!!!

I’ve also included some other LGBTQ+ books under the cut!

In approximate order I read them:

George

Six of Crows

Every Heart a Doorway

A Darker Shade of Magic

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet

I’ll Give You the Sun

The Seafarer’s Kiss

The Abyss Surrounds Us

The Murderbot Diaries

The Raven Tower

This is How You Lose the Time War

Basically anything by Patrick Ness 

There are so many more amazing LGBTQ+ books I look forward to reading : )

209 notes • Posted 2021-06-08 04:44:25 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[bonbrizzle]

Here you Rise, Furiously and Fearlessly

Log Line: Labeling in Tattooing: Seemingly Disastrous or Actually Misconstrued?

For my lovely Tumblr followers, this piece is written especially for you.

To give a bit of info about myself to those who are new or aren’t familiar with the writer of this blog, I’m Bonnie, an undergrad at UC Davis. If you’re an OG here, you’ve seen me experience tremendous changes throughout the years I’ve maintained this blog. Due to a mish-mash of circumstances I’m unfortunately not as keen about writing long feel-fests as as often as I did in high school. Back then, days were slower, school meant less, and we all had so much more much needed free-time. As many of you may or may not know, I’m a first generation Vietnamese-American girl born and raised in the most ecstatically eccentric part of the country, the (San Francisco) Bay Area. While I was able to grow up in one of the most progressive areas in the world, my parents weren’t given this luxury we take for granted here. The rift between our two cultures forced me to grapple with a singular sense of “identity” throughout the majority (or entirety? actually) of my life. Many of you fellow Asian Americans are aware of the difficulty in regards to finding a comfortable medium between the lifestyles of both your parents and yourself. 

Any-who, I am writing to my fellow tattooed folk in zealous hopes. I have a willful and fire-y desire to push you all to keep on fighting. Fight the stereotypes burdened upon us as a people. Fight to change the way we, society (as a whole), interpret labeling. If you haven’t already noticed, our culture is bizarrely infatuated with the need for identification. Let’s try to undermine this idea with a grand plan. 

While I usually materialize just my subjective POV in this diary-like blog of mine, at this instant I’ll be tacking on a little something extra. This piece has the familiar anecdotal experiences that one is familiar with in reading my style, (mixed with subjective thoughts, etc) AND will have some interlaced informative/factual bits to provide you with some background info. If you are compelled, you’re more than welcome to investigate further...and or skim as you wish! I mainly chose to write about resistance and tattooing’s marriage with labeling because I’m enamored about tattoo as a culture. Don’t be alarmed! It is not a research paper. It is a branch of anthropology that requires me to provide some sort of anecdotal recollection of my experience(s) with resistance. In actuality, I haven’t updated in so long, I’m not even sure if anyone’s listening. “Posting into your Tumblr is like talking to your cat. You’re not sure if anyone is listening, but it feels good anyway.” To those who will continue to be loyal to my musings, I hope this piece leaves you with a sprinkle of new insight or a refreshed perspective.

You may or may not be familiar with the newfound anxiety that tags along with getting your first piece. Going into the shop on the day of, I was like anyone else...ridden with anxiety and feverishly wondering if this life-changing decision would alter the way I fit into the world. Would the modified version of me be rejected and outcasted by society? My cocktail of feelings was mixed with a variation of things. Some of it dismal, because maybe my parents would disown me. Others were optimistic, I finally was getting one step closer to the way I only dreamed to look. As I was being escorted onto the tattooing chair, I discovered my circumstances were changing everso quickly. Was I leaving my previous identity behind? Yes, this does seems dramatic, but to be frank, I didn’t fully realize the intensity of this horrifying possibility until the days to started to dwindle. Imagining my future around my family and wanting their acceptance seemed grim, but I stayed positive because I knew this was exactly what I wanted. 

Maturing through the lessons of traditional Vietnamese folks meant I was constantly torn between accepting the traditional aspects of being a Vietnamese daughter, while also trying to navigate myself around what being American means to me. Pressure to fill the image of a traditional Vietnamese woman in the eyes of my parents surrounded many reasons behind my actions and plagued my subconscious. I feared they would judge their ability to raise a child by watching me grow into what they dreamed, while evaluating me by my qualities of submissiveness, obedience, and "normality,” But I didn’t want to blend into the rest of the colors and become a muddled brown, being arbitrarily mixed with everybody else. I am not only Vietnamese, but American. Being American means a plethora of things. To me, it is mainly founded upon the notion that you should always allow yourself to have an opinion. Not only in America should you be informed and form opinions from what you’re surrounded by, you need be unabashedly outspoken. In my specific case, being an American in the bay meant even moreso using these exclusive opportunities to fight courageously both for your rights and for what’s right. In an overall sense, this meant acceptance. Let yourself thrive, be who you want to be––without a care in the world––and bloom wherever you are planted.

Let’s take at a comparison between my brother and I. To someone like him, the identity route resembles straight line. My brother seems to lie on the side of the scale that’s on the complete opposite end of what I’m on. He is undoubtedly a gifted child. With that being said, he became simply a breeze for my parents to teach. Never to stray to committing anything outlandish, my brother willfully blended into the cloak of “normality.” I want to note that there is nothing wrong with the desire to be normal. So for my parents, he was a prize, a gifted student with not a single note of resistance; a child who was everso far from the idea of “troubled.” On the other end of the spectrum however, was little ‘ol me, a small Asian girl who started out as a little bit obnoxious and is still honking and tonking with confliction to this day.

It originated early on in my life but came to show it’s face in high school. The amount of worrying about my future my parents were plagued with increased every time I dyed my hair abnormal and kooky color. In high school I died my hair more than 30 times. Throughout the process of maturing, gnawing teenage angst hindered me from communicating the way I needed to with my folks. Because of this, my parents didn’t understand me at all, and thought even moreso that I was trying to erase my identity as a Vietnamese woman after dyeing my hair bright blond for the first time. “Are you trying to be white?!” My dad roared at me as he stared at my bright, freshly bleached blond hair in disbelief. This idea of me that I was running away from the idea of being normal was devastating to my parents. “Will she be okay? Will the kids at school make fun of her?” The idea of me being bizarre to hasn’t stopped there though, unfortunately. However, it’s started to take a change in direction. 

After adding several new piercings to my ensemble of body modifications, I eventually broadened myself to a new and considerably “outlandish” form of self expression, the tattoo. Writing this now, I just wanted to say that luckily for me, my parents were able to find a a new meaning for my eccentric taste and childlike imagination. Going out of my way to receive this tattoo, a completely unfamiliar form of body modification meant I was changing myself drastically. This fear only translated to one thought: I would never be the same. Being tattooed meant permanent “disfiguration,” to my parents, and that frightened them immensely. With their somber fear riding on my shoulder, in moved in my old pal anxiety. Would I regret this? Would my family be ashamed to be seen with me, or even worse, reject me fully? Making this conscious decision to permanently alter myself opened a new door of unfamiliarity, something so scary but something I wanted so badly at the same time. I argued with this little voice in my head, the voice that kept telling me that I wasn’t making a bad decision, and would still of course, be a respected member in society. This dream of mine, looking and feeling the way I wanted to unapologetically and fearlessly, gave me the the courage to make the decision to finally make the change. This new drive to bravely make conscious decisions for myself gave me a sense of empowerment and even security. My skin was my own, and I can bravely defend that idea. In getting tattoos, I am forever altering my identity and resisting the labels primarily associated with being an Asian female in today’s world.

So first, what is it about tattooing that’s so special to this project about resistance?

The tattoo on my arm in Davis is a nouveau form of self expression. To the myriads of people around me, it might be perceived in many different ways, depending on the individual is who’s looking at it. Those of you who are familiar with me know that in me is an immense appreciation for art. So tremendous that I even applied to UCLA as an art major 3 years ago. This blossomed into the supreme desire to be inked, having a permanent form of art to adorn on my body forever. I dealt with bullying in the past for dyeing my hair the range of the rainbow, but nothing felt like what I was about to do to my skin. Hair is always able to grow out and revert back to the way it was. Skin, however, was not. But the possibility of bullying didn’t scare me. It never scared me because it always came from doing something I wanted, and loved. In this case, it was the same, but not...the new audience was my parents, my respected relatives, my extended family...not my immature classmates from school.

Tattoos can have a lot of stigmas behind them. Stigmas come from a variety of individuals who interpret something in a certain light. Here in reality there obviously is a plethora of different perspectives one can interpret the tattoo as. Because of this diversity, I must connect what I learned in my anthropology class this fall, to the idea trying to be expressed in this blog post, that there is a multiplicity of ways we as a people can digest the things around us, depending on who we are as people, whether be in groups like socio-economical or individually, like “Asian American,” for example.

On a personal scale, the tattoo on my arm to me is a beloved form of self-expression. It is an area of my body that represents, or shows some indication about who I am and the things I love. It is a form of my identity that gives me confidence and comfort in my own skin, it makes me feel more beautiful, special, etc. But to others, it can be taken in a completely different light.

To authoritarians, like my future employers, it may look entirely different. These authoritarians, based on the previous history of tattoos, may believe that I may be harboring some criminal tendencies, may not take school or my education seriously, or am frankly––even a “good for nothing,” individual. This all depends on many different things, however, like what environment the authoritarian grew up in, what kind of environment they are surrounded by now, what their personal views on “x” and “y” are, etc. Because of this dangerous tendency, individuals like me who like to wear tattoos may be slightly more secretive, and get pieces done that are easily hidden. In places like Portland, in Oregon, however, tattoos are very common and popularized by the rising modernity scene. You can easily see a bunch of tattoos individuals hanging out at multiple joints in the city, all without a care in the world. This is because the city of Portland is open to this form of art, and has gotten moreso used to it by now. In other places, say maybe more conservative states where tattoos are less popularized, like Philadelphia as a friend once told me, tattooed individuals can be shunned, stared at viciously, and even treated with disrespect.

To older-generations, tattooing comes off as taboo and an indicator of poor-morals.  Because tattoos are constantly shown off on criminals, adorned by gang-members, etc. These stigmas in tattooing have been constantly perpetuated by tattoo culture in criminalized areas, or jails and prisons. Those who spend some of their time in these institutions typically get tattooed by non-professional “friends,” who don’t use cleanly measures like sterilization. Those who get these “homemade tattoos,” can give tattooing a bad rep, because the public views these individuals as a whole image, a criminal with tattoos, so a person with tattoos will most likely have some tendency to do immoral things. Because of this constantly breathed idea, the tattoo to the public can give a lot of citizens anxiety. They can be immediately threatened by this individual who looks like they’re up to no good, and if they were to assume who the tattooed individual is, they would probably not reach for the guess of say, a doctor or a lawyer.

Likewise to the Japanese, tattoos are an indicator of a troublesome individual who is associated with some type of Yakuza group, or “gang,” in Japanese. Those who are dedicated to the lifestyle of their respective gangs in Japanese culture prove their loyalty by getting big tattoos spread all over their body, because obviously if you weren’t a dedicated member why would you A) subject yourself to that type of pain B) be committed to permanent body art for the rest of your life? Because of this traditional idea, Japanese people, although conservative already, are not able to be comfortable around tattooed individuals, and even go as far as banning tattooed individuals at public bath-houses, the “onsen,” they call it.

To give an even more extreme example, take tattooing during WWII. Jews who were captured and wrongfully imprisoned by Nazi concentration camps during the war were not only cruelly mistreated and tortured, but were also branded like caged animals. Jewish prisoners had numbers etched into their wrists in order to mark them as prisoners but also label them so they were easier to keep track of. This marking gave them a huge sense of shame and misery, and was forever a reminder to them of a nightmare so horrible they wish it didn’t really unfold. Because of this, Jewish people, as I noted when browsing on Quora this one day, are not at all interested in getting tattoos. They may not be so critical of others getting ink done, but for themselves, would never because of the terrible past and memories associated behind it.

To tattoo artists, on another note, tattoos are a form of art that they create, but also prosper from. The tattoo on my arm may look like a mark of criminalization on me to naysayers, but to these artists, the creation of the tattoo on my arm meant they were able to eat dinner or have a roof over their heads for another day. After meeting a couple artists while searching for the perfect artist for me, I learned a little bit more about the tattooing scene in their perspective. Lianna deFleur, a floral specialized artist in San Francisco, noted to me that tattooing to her is a form of valuable and beautiful expression. Every time one of her clients leaves with a new piece, she feels like she is giving the world another beautiful piece of artwork to be loved and cherished, and that all those who are marked by her all share a beautiful piece of herself, that she worked so long and dutifully to create. Likewise, because of those who want tattoos, the industry has grown so large and normalized that you can now see cities like San Francisco, Berkeley, and Portland full of tattooed individuals. The rising scene has given birth to an abundance of careers, whether giving ink or tool shops more business, or giving an artist more fame. These artists give rise to individuals who are selling certain materials: ink, tattoo needles, sterilization tools, spaces for rent, etc. Such a new industry has also gifted communities with more openness and awareness to the trueness of tattooing, that it is an art-form that shouldn’t be feared. While I usually don’t support capitalism and the monetization of everything, the monetization of the process of tattooing has gifted certain individuals with a new way of life, while blessing others in the process.

To other tattooed individuals, my tattoo may be a source of common ground, another way to connect to a stranger that they’ve never met before, even without ever speaking to them. I know that when I go out and I see a fellow tattooed person, I feel a little more connected and comfortable with them, because they understand the way it feels to be marked and forever changed by ink. There’s a quote that I heard that I believe is exceptionally true. It is as follows, “The only difference between tattooed people and non tattooed people is tattooed people don’t care if you are not tattooed.” I think this quote represents our population pretty well. When hearing the quote for the first time, I am reminded of American politics. This is because a lot of individuals who fight against something sometimes fight for things that don’t relate to them. For example, I can speak about the issue of marriage equality when talking about gay marriage. A lot of conservatives who voted against gay marriage argue that it is to protect the purity of marriage between a man and a woman, and to allow marriage to be in a different form would be allowing the sanctity of marriage to be at risk. Although allowing gay marriage to exist may not apply to the person directly who is voting against it, it hurts those that want it. Similarly to how people who aren’t tattooed despise tattoos and don’t want others to get them, although it doesn’t directly affect them. I say if it’s not hurting anyone to let it be. However, in this case I am no way trying to equate tattoo culture to the need for marriage equality, for those who feel like I am being insensitive, I apologize, and wanted to use a simple example, although not perfectly appropriate.

There is a great deal of types of tattoo in the community. Because of this, many different genres of tattoos have developed over time. From the homemade, branding types that scare people away, to other more recognizable types like “Old American,” tattooing. I think all the people who get the same genre of tattoo also feel a strong sense of connection towards each other, the connection through mutual appreciation of the same artform. In my case, I especially love blackwork tattoos, a tattooing style that places special appreciation and priority for black and grey ink only, without color at all. This style of tattooing to me, as a form of art, looks very crisp and clean cut. Other styles I especially love are florals. The different genres in tattooing allow smaller groups to form from the overall larger group, and allows individuals like me to seek out other people who also enjoy the same art form, again a part of tattooing that specializes individuality but also the seeking of mutual common ground.

After announcing to my housemate about the subject on my final project, he asked what about tattooing am I trying to write about? I told him that tattooing has so many different genres, and sub-genres, and subgenres of those sub-genres, for example. He noted to me, “Actually, I was just going to mention that. That tattoos can have so many different meanings. A tattoo can represent a positive, happy thing, but also a terrible negative thing. Like if someone has an anti-semitic tattoo sprawled largely across their backside.” I think this is true. While I for one try to always see the positive side of tattooing, there is a stigma for a reason. I have to admit that this is true. The problem of the stigma arises because some individuals choose to get tattoos that are hurtful, and are negative, and this hurts the community in a general sense.

Likewise, you could get a tattoo that is both sad and positive. Some individuals get the date of their loved ones deaths tattooed. This is both to commemorative in the best, loving way, but also melancholic and can be opening up to a sad memory, a bad thing. Tattoos can be viewed in so many different ways, but to me I want to try to alter it to be more accepted as less of a bad thing and more of an individual thing, like dyeing your hair for example.

The enormous stigma behind tattoos have created a rift between people who understand and perpetuate the culture and those who resent and fight against the culture. Let me talk to you about how tattoos fit in our world and how we fit in the world of the tattoo.

My tattoo was produced by an artist at Black and Blue Tattoo named Michael DeMatty. He first drew up a drawing and presented it to me, asking me how I wanted it tweaked, trying to adhere to my taste as much as possible. This is a time-consuming process that he needs to get right perfectly in order for the tattoo to exist in the most positive light. The drawing may take a long time, need a considerable amount of retouching, and may have many opportunities to change into something else. Most often busy artists charge a fee for a drawing that they use as a deposit to the tattoo, because they only want committed clients who will not back out and waste their time. After my initial consultation with him, DeMatty drew up my design, then stenciled it onto special tracing paper. On the day of it was his responsibility to adhere the stencil precisely and accurately onto my bicep so all the lines would match up as accordingly. This was a tiring process because the horizontal lines wouldn’t line up much of the time, and the stencil had to be redone time and time again. Afterwards, when everything was stenciled on and placed correctly, DeMatty started tattooing me, a process that took multiple tattooing needles of different sizes, widths, and amounts. All these needles were stabbed a gazillion times into the skin on my bicep.

The ink involved in my tattoo is from a laborer that DeMatty has sought out himself, the ink supplier is a trusted laborer and that creates ink that went from their own production line to now inside my skin, for the rest of my life.

Tattooing history has come a significantly long way. It went from being a practice in villages in Southeast Asia and even the earliest Native Americans to being a common form of self-expression in many countries and the beyond, in this case, the US. Villages used tattooing as a form of marking, status, and symbol. In the past it has been traditionally done with needles tied around sticks, dipped in ink that was made from mashed up flowers. It has it’s dark history, however, as a means to mark Jews during WWII, in concentration camps.

Nowadays, tattooing has evolved, because mine was made through the effort of a tattooing needle machine, which is automatic, and electric. The creation of the tattoo happens primarily in the shop, it sometimes originates from the ideas of the individual getting tattooed, but after the action has been completed at the shop, the tattoo is generally maintained on the person.

After I got my tattoo, I healed it with special burn victim ointments, like bacitracin. I kept it covered for the first weeks, and now I maintain the color with sunscreen, everyday.  

The tattoo originated and inked into my arm in San Francisco, California, but it’s traveled to a plethora of places. It’s traveled to my hometown in San Jose, the cities on the way to Davis, California where I go to University. It has even traveled to Los Angeles and all the cities on I-5 N and I-5, so the cities in between.

Here is a picture of myself, staring at the Seattle sky during a great weekend in May. I wasn’t reluctant to wear a tank-top here because Seattle is more progressive than other places, and I happily and gratefully noticed that there were other tattooed individuals scattered across this city as well! I think my tattoo is simple enough that people won’t judge it very much, and if they do, I wouldn’t know what they would really say about it anyway. The three band tattoo sitting on my right bicep pays homage to Native American styles of tattooing. One that places special emphasis on lines. The three lines represent each member of my family: mom, dad, and brother. I would assume no one would really know this by looking at it, which is nice. I think it also looks really aesthetically pleasing, which is a good reason to get a tattoo too if you like it!

A Wide Angle View

Tattoos are generally scrutinized as a categorization, one that links criminal or suspicious looking citizens into a group as a whole, unfavored by most of society. However, tattoos also can mean a plethora of different things. In this case, tattoos as a form of historical art are a form of self-expression, and continue to act as a visual culture to all those who love and adorn them.

Tattoos, in a historical sense, were meant to mark tribe members with important symbols to shine light upon them as special group members. This could mean adorning the leader of the tribe with the most detailed and beautiful ink, or even to brand criminals as those who need to be taken note of and feared.

The economy behind tattoos as a form of art has grown tremendously throughout the past decade, from being labeled as an illegal act in the state of Massachusetts previously to be a bustering new business in the city of San Francisco, where tattoo shops are in full demand. While tattoos before looked simply like a way to brand those who broke the law, there now is a whole new meaning to the act of tattooing itself, one could look at it in a whole sense as a form of resistance against society, but on a more personal sense––as a form of belonging, one that allows us to express ourselves, but also be a sort of rite-of-passage to those who are old enough to get it done legally.

I for one, felt like I was breaking the stereotype culture of Asian women as submissive and obedient when I went into Black & Blue Tattoo in San Francisco to adorn myself with new ink. I got 3 bands done around the bicep of my right arm, in thus paying homage to the Native American tribal style of tattooing, one dating back to as far as 2000 BCE. This style of tattooing was prominent when the natives were tattooed, becoming a religious ritual, usually during war-time. The band style of tattooing was usually present to distinguish different tribes from each other.

To me, it meant personally to rid myself of the submissive stereotype but also be there to remind me of my family’s permanent impact on me, with 3 bands being for 3 family members––my mother, father, and brother. My parents at first, were not crazy about me getting tattooed. I thought to myself, that this was a choice for me to make. I loved the artistic side of tattooing, and wanted to be a collector, but was also afraid of all the prejudices society already has set up for me. Tattooed individuals are not looked at with the most equal and honest eye by society due to the general criminal stereotype. I think personally, with the general introduction of good-mannered, kind-hearted individuals with tattoos being present in society, there will be at least a small shift in the perspective of those who still view tattooing as a negative categorization of criminals, with my existence being as useful as possible.

So what does this all have to do with labeling and resistance?

I feel as though these two aspects of tattooing go hand in hand with each other. Tattoos, on one side are a form of categorization. Those who are tattooed are lumped together as a group, judged collectively in a lot of time bad ways, and are stereotyped as a group accordingly. At the same time, the idea that tattooed individuals are looked as a group has its perks as well. I mentioned earlier that when I meet a fellow tattooed individual, I feel a little more connected to this person, even if I don’t know them personally. This is because I feel as though the person also experiences the same judgements placed upon them by society as me, and because of that we can be empathetic towards each other. Likewise, when we are grouped together as a collective, I feel as though we can resist the stereotype together, not while acting as a group, but changing people’s of tattoos on an individual scale, making it better for the group in general.

Tattooing as a group can be seen as a special thing to help individuals relate and understand each other. While we can be judged harshly as a group, the same group is able to help each other feel and understand each other’s feelings and experiences, which I deeply appreciate. Knowing the stereotype for tattooed individuals and then taking heed this information and changing it by not being the stereotypical “criminal,” or “suspicious,” person will make our group look less daunting as a community. These little steps to resist the stereotype together are what I think can be considered as a new way to interpret the verb, “tattooing,” and “labeling,” Labeling our group as a whole may mean categorization, but it also is a means to help our group come together and resist together.

There is this mutual experience with tattooed individuals about the dilemma about openly showcasing your tattoos. We bond as a group when we know the annoyingness of people who intrusively come up to you to touch your skin or ask you what your tattoo means. We have this silent agreement in the tattooing community that those who come up to you musn’t be intrusive, disruptive, or too invasive to you as they see you. If they do, it’s fine for you to ignore their interaction if you wish. I feel that this is true, and some people don’t have respect for others space when they try to inquire knowledge about another person’s body modifications. This is a way for the group of tattooed individuals to understand each other.

The visual culture surrounding tattoos gives a whole new meaning to the practice now, than it did before. Before, labeling could be seen as a harsh way to judge a tattooed person, instilling upon them stereotypes that they didn’t ask for that may not accurately depict them. Nowadays, tattooed individuals are now in a community that expresses new principles. The tattooed community focuses on the sharing of visual culture through self expression. Tattoos are meant to portray an artist’s best work that also physically symbolizes something a person values, loves, or wants to remember, all in the form of ink.

In tattooed culture, it is wrong to copy another artist’s work, stroke for stroke. There is however, welcoming attitudes to inspiration from another artist, but it is the new artist’s responsibility to make the new piece unique and in a style individually connected to them, therefore keeping the work’s integrity. It is also a very important point to remember that “tattoos are not for today, they are for forever.” This rings true to those individuals who knock down a couple of drinks in a sitting and want to get inked. Artists refuse to ink these people, one because they are making a decision without being sober and therefore have impaired judgement, and two because alcohol thins the blood, making the individual bleed more during the tattooing process, which is dangerous.

There are a couple of conflicts in the community, however, about certain things. A lot of artists scoff at trendy tattoos, while others don’t really care enough for them to reject them outright. This is true for trendy tattoos like: native American dreamcatchers, feather tattoos, infinity signs, Chinese characters, etc. These trendy tattoos can sometimes be harshly judged in the community when an artist refuses to do them, a lot of the reason because society doesn’t respect tattoos that are cultural appropriation, which they shouldn’t be anyway. Those who get tattoos that appropriate another individual’s culture usually make fools of themselves, this is because they usually don’t get the right word they were trying to communicate tattooed. I remember watching a YouTube video on Chinese character tattoos where one individual thought it mean, “bravery,” but when they showed it to their Chinese friend they soon learned that it meant “refrigerator,” which I thought was both humorous and tragic...humorously tragic. On this kind plane, it is easy to see why some people don’t respect tattooing. If you are going to get another culture’s language permanently etched into your body, why not go through some research to get the write meaning instead of making yourself look like a fool? This creates a negative image on those who get tattoos in general.

There is also a firm understanding in the culture that novices should not tattoo professionally. This is because homemade tattoos give professionally done tattoos a bad rep, and make tattoos look bad, or “trashy,” and not respectable. Novices are supposed to learn from professionals by being “apprentices,” and must be recommended and backed by a professional typically to get a permanent position in a tattooing group. There is a special gripe in the community about “tattooing schools,” that artist are insulted by. Tattooing schools serve to simply turn tattooing into a monetized means of production. That is, those who want to start tattooing others to make money can just apply for some generalized class to start their new career. This is dangerous to those who perfected their art and have taken special time to develop their own sense of style, go through hoops to secure a shop, and have learned through the help of fellow tattooed artists. Going to a school for tattooing that doesn’t really care about your work or you individually as a person is a joke to the tattooing community. You can see this easily by reading up posts about “tattooing schools,” on your own.

The fact that there is rules in this new community makes the whole thing so much more special. You can easily see the form of resistance to the stereotypical ideas of tattooing and strip away the previous label placed upon it. The tattooing culture has grown so large that those who love the culture have made strong rules to live by to practice integrity, respect, and mutual understanding of each other. To follow these rules means that you are giving tattoos a new label, one that can connote respect, sensibility, and cultural awareness.

Tattoos as a form of art, contrary to the belief of group categorization, are obviously a way to promote individuality. Many of us individuals who choose to get tattooed look for unique artforms to get adorned onto our bodies. Because of this, you can see in the tattooing world that often tattoos are not repeated exactly as they are, not only because copying another artist’s work is wrong in tattooing culture, but because you usually want a unique piece.

Snake tattoos are common in tattooing culture. Why would anyone get a tattoo of a snake, you might ask? This is a time for me to give you some cultural awareness of tattooing culture. Snakes can be interpreted as vile beings to be feared, but to some, they are beautiful. One point is that snakes have to do with religious texts, such like the inclusion of the snake in the story of Adam and Eve. Secondly, in some cultures, snakes represent healing and rebirth. When a snake sheds its skin and grows into something new, it is like it is being reborn, and healed again into something new. You wouldn’t have really thought about this if you didn’t get an explanation right? It does make sense.

Likewise, when people get tattoos of say, scary symbols such as skulls, this is sometimes an expression of their lack of fear to death. People who are not moved by death sometimes get skull tattoos because they accept that life has it’s unexpected turns and you should live it to its fullest potential. I see that skulls get a bad rep in tattooing culture because some people think it’s a tacky symbol, but it’s there in the traditions of tattooing for a reason.

People are nowadays also placing special emphasis on floral tattoo designs. I see that many individuals think that flowers are beautiful, so why not let them wear them in the form of permanent art? I too stand behind flowers being a beautiful thing to tattoo, and support this movement completely. I love it. The image of a flower is also less scary to people who don’t understand tattoo culture, and therefore can help resist the stereotype of scary tattooed people, one step at a time. I think this movement of including tattoos that aren’t super traditional helps us relabel the idea of tattoos as less of a way to label someone in a negative way, but allow people to think that some people just like the way things look and want to wear them permananently.

So how does this affect me on a more personal scale?

For instance, I noticed you wrote at length about 'labeling' - how others label you, how you sought to relabel yourself, how tattoos can be a way of (re)-labeling, and also how you seek to escape labels entirely.

When I started growing up and noticing the realities of life, I noticed that everyone around me will judge me without my consent, no matter if I like it or not. This is not necessarily a reflection of who they are as people, although it can be, but I think is a simple and integral part of what makes us human. With this being said, I remember in high school sulking and being hurt over the bullying I incurred do to my taste in hair color. I routinely mocked by constant whispers around me when I came into class, and I especially remember those who called me names such as, “Crayola,” and “carrot-head.” While my classmates at school chose to judge me on that part of myself I chose to reveal, I noticed that some individuals who judged me prior decided to still try to be my friend and therefore try to get to know me. My best friend to this day was one of the individuals who thought my hair made me “odd,” and somewhat unapproachable even, but she chose to disregard that for the most part to get to know me personally. Through this, she was able to understand who am as a person and discard her previous idea of me. I want to work this way continuously to escape labels entirely, person by person.

To convert my parents to my side, I first started to warm them up to the idea of me getting a tattoo by slowly hinting at it, and showing them designs that I liked. They didn’t believe me at first, because to them, it was such a preposterous idea. No one in my family has a single tattoo. It is not spoken about, ever, and no one has dared or desired to get one either. I think in Vietnam at least, tattoos are not popular at all, and are simply a part of the idea of a typical street-gang member or institutionally jailed individual. Because of this, my parents weren’t keen on me also “branding” myself and making a choice that I could possibly regret my entire life. Sure enough, I realized that they were going to react this way, and chose to try to educate them instead of permanently resist and do what I want. I started out by telling them how common tattoos are nowadays and noting what percentage of my classmates had big and small tattoos, and also showing them multiple Instagram pages of tattoos, so that they would see how wildly common they are. I also let them know that employers nowadays are more understanding of body art, if it is in moderation. At the end of the day, they just wanted me to be comfortable in my own skin and not bullied or mistreated for being a certain way. I understood this and assured them that this was my dream, and if it would help, I’d get it in an easily hidden place, just in case.

Sure enough, everything ended up alright. I guess my parents are more understanding than others, but I’m glad I was able to convince them from downright rejecting it and saying no, to giving me their blessing, as long as I do my research and get it done at a reputable shop. My extended family however, is a different story. I haven’t gone out of my way to show my tattoo to other family members, who I don’t know as personally, and who I feel won’t choose to accept me in a positive way. I am still taking my chances with these people, and choose to hide it, at least until I’ve gotten a secure job in the outside world. I know that I cannot convince everyone to see my side of the field, but I will continuously try to change people’s ideas of me personally by acting in a different way than they expect me to be.

I admit, to get to know people on a personal scale is extremely difficult. If I were to try to befriend everyone who judged me and get close enough to them where they would learn that I am not “weird,” in a bad way or odd, is too time-consuming, difficult, and honestly, just unrealistic. However, I do want to make it a point to come across to every individual I have an interaction with to change their opinion of me just a little bit, just enough to make me seem like less of a stereotypical person. I go about this in my everyday life, when I’m getting coffee, when I meet a classmate for the first time, etc. At the beginning of a relationship, I usually try to escape from labels by firstly, covering my tattoo. This may seem backwards because I shouldn’t be hiding it, but I find that it is a strength of mine if I can allow myself to be known first, as a non-tattooed individual, and then later, reveal it, to not make it as big of a deal as it usually would be if they just met me for the first time and saw it.

I have this dream that someday people who are tattooed will slowly change the minds of others who think tattoos are are indicator of a person with low morals, etc. I honestly think that this can be accomplished on a small scale, one step at a time. I know that it may take years and years to get to this point, but I feel that if we slowly show others that we are normal, loving, caring, understanding, feeling people like themselves, people will slowly understand

[pearlpugly]

tag game stuff...

tagged by @uranchan​

there were some kind of rules, but I don’t care 1. Coke or Pepsi: coke 2. Disney or Dreamworks: ehh, disney (but only bc of my childhood) 3. Coffee or Tea: you’re not gonna make me choose... 4. Books or Movies: fffffff, right now, movies 5. Windows or Mac: mac 6. DC or Marvel: either 7. Xbox or Playstation: definitely both 8. Dragon Age or Mass Effect: biowareeeeeeeeeee!!!444!! 9. Night Owl or Early Rise: night owl 10. Cards or Chess: chess 11. Chocolate or Vanilla: both are boring 12. Vans or Converse: which one has more cartoon related shoes? that one. 13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash or Adaar: fuuuuu......trevelyan (or all of them) 14. Fluff or Angst: angst, duh 15. Beach or Forest: wherever I can get better 4G coverage... 16. Dogs or Cats?: I’m not qualified to keep pets. 17. Clear Skies or Rain: rain, darkness, wind, death 18. Cooking or Eating Out: cooking, bc my food’s probably better 19. Spicy Food or Mild Food: spicy all the way 20. Halloween/Samhain or Solstice/Yule/Christmas: “THIS IS HALLOWEEN, THIS IS HALLOWEEEEEEEN...!!” 21. Would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: too hot 22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be: magic? or I wanna be super clever idk 23. Animation or Live Action: animation 24. Paragon or Renegade: paragon 5evah 25. Baths or Showers: showers; what’s the point of baths? 26. Team Cap or Team Iron Man? defo team iron man 27. Fantasy or Sci-Fi: fantasy 28. Do you have three or four favourite quotes?: probably?

29. YouTube or Netflix: Netflix

30. Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: Mr. Potter 31. When You Feel Accomplished: that would be...neverrrr 32. Star Wars or Star Trek: I couldn’t care less 33. Paperback Books or Hardback Books: paperbacks 34. Handwriting or Typing: typing, ppl can actually read that.... 35. Velvet or Satin: none of those is “in” this season, so nO 36. Video Games or Movies: VIDEOGAMES 37. Would you rather be the dragon or own the dragon?: be one; hoard everything 38. Sunrise or sunset: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 39. What’s your favourite song?: according to iMusic, right now: 樹海 by BUCK-TICK 40. Horror Movies yes or no: no, too predictable 41. Long hair or short hair: I don’t care as long as it’s show-stopping 42. Opera or Theatre: this question is cruel. 43: Assuming the multiverse theory is true and every story ever told has really happened somewhere, which one of the movie/book/tv show/game/etc worlds would you pick to travel to first?: I hate you, whoever asked this...Final Fantasy...8/10/12? ...probably 12 44: Are you scared of thunderstorms? Why?: I live for thunderstorms 45: Sleeping in or getting up early?: I don’t really sleep... 46: Favorite Food?: sugar 47: Traditional or Digital art?: depends on how lazy I’m being at any given moment 48: What do YOU think is your most redeemable quality?: I’m charming 48: If you could meet any celebrity, who would you meet?: I don’t really care for them... 49. Favorite band?: if by that you mean what should be played at my funeral, then BUCK-TICK 50. Favorite pet?: something naked 51. Truth or Dare?: dares; I’d probably lie anyway XD 52. Sticky notes or journal: neither; if I can’t keep in mind, those won’t help 53. Do you keep a diary?: nah

tagging @timothygurl @crimsondragonflies and ...whatever, if you wanna do it, do it

[leecherish]

got tagged

tagged by @frolikin, thank you so much o/ Rules: Answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions (no) 1. Coke or Pepsi: i don’t have a preference tbh? 2. Disney or Dreamworks: no preference again 3. Coffee or Tea: i like both but tea i guess 4. Books or Movies: books 5. Windows or Mac: windows 6. DC or Marvel: not into them 7. Xbox or Playstation: pc but if i had to choose then playstation 8. Dragon Age or Mass Effect: dragon age i guess i’ve seen some good gay ships 9. Night Owl or Early Rise: both and it destroys me lol 10. Cards or Chess: i hate both 11. Chocolate or Vanilla: both 12. Vans or Converse: no 13. Lavellan, Trevelyan, Cadash or Adaar: ok 14. Fluff or Angst: angst fight me 15. Beach or Forest: forest forest forest aaa 16. Dogs or Cats?: dogs 17. Clear Skies or Rain: rain 18. Cooking or Eating Out: that sounds gay  19. Spicy Food or Mild Food: bring on all the spices im ready to burn 20. Halloween/Samhain or Solstice/Yule/Christmas: i fucking hate both of them 21. Would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: a little too cold wich i always am 22. If you could have a superpower, what would it be: invisibility bc i wanna dissapear and do stuff w/o ppl judging me 23. Animation or Live Action: animation 24. Paragon or Renegade: ok 25. Baths or Showers: i love baths but we don’t have a bathtub in our flat 26. Team Cap or Team Iron Man? no 27. Fantasy or Sci-Fi: fantasy 28. Do you have three or four favourite quotes?: uuu hold on does music lyrics count bc i wanna quote music lyrics “You’re only young once, but you can’t be immature forever” “And her lips are like the galaxy’s edge, and her kiss the color of a constellation falling into place” “I’d say I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t mean shit” “Tell me now, about what I left unsaid; where did those words I swallowed go?” 29. YouTube or Netflix: netflix looks better but also money so no 30. Harry Potter or Percy Jackson: Harry Potter *throws sparkles everywhere* 31. When You Feel Accomplished: when my writing makes people feel stuff 32. Star Wars or Star Trek: no 33. Paperback Books or Hardback Books: paperback because they feel better to hold 34. Handwriting or Typing: typing! 35. Velvet or Satin: velvet 36. Video Games or Movies: video games 37. Would you rather be the dragon or own the dragon?: own the dragon 38. Sunrise or sunset: sunset 39. What’s your favourite song?: currently Glass Animals - Pork Soda lmao but it changes weeky i guess 40. Horror Movies yes or no: no 41. Long hair or short hair: i prefer long hair on others but i like having short hair 42. Opera or Theatre: theatre! 43: Assuming the multiverse theory is true and every story ever told has really happened somewhere, which one of the movie/book/tv show/game/etc worlds would you pick to travel to first?: *bangs fists on the table* The Elder Scrolls series!! The Elder Scrolls series!! The Elder Scrolls sERIES 44: Are you scared of thunderstorms? Why?: sudden thunders can scare me but mostly i’m just fascinated and i also have a good memory connecting me to them so i love them 45: Sleeping in or getting up early?: i do bo t h my sleeping schedule is fucked up 46: Favorite Food?: mmmmhmhmhmhm anything spicy 47: Traditional or Digital art?: mm both 48: What do YOU think is your most redeemable quality?: i do my best to help my friends 48: If you could meet any celebrity, who would you meet?: sp4zie aah i wanna tell him mow much he cheered me up w/ his videos and.... yea i just love him 49. Favorite band?: currently goreshit lol ok he’s a musician but... do i care? no 50. Favorite pet?: mmm i love them all 51. Truth or Dare?: who plays that anymore anyway lol 52. Sticky notes or journal: journal 53. Do you keep a diary?: I used to but lately i’ve been keeping an online diary i guess

I tag @hikarifulz, @duneyr, @d007ization, @haku-buntaicho, @dreamingofketchup and basically anyone who wants to do it o/

[shards-of-realities-blog]

Lemme get serious for a second

If you’re in a rough spot rn, like in any way at all (now is not the time to “other people have it worse” me) if you’re in a bad place in any capacity you better listen up.

It gets better.

Yes, that’s cliche, and corny, and overused and whatever else, but it’s true. I’m telling you this from, if not the other side, a few miles from the border of Good on the edge of this wasteland of Suck. It gets better.

Look. Two, three years ago? I was a fucking mess, pardon my French. I was. I was having panic attacks in school and texting my friends nonstop to have them walk me through simple things and I was failing classes and I was drowning. I hated myself, really, I cried when I saw my natural hair in the mirror and I refused to leave the house without burning it straight.

And you know what?

I’m not perfect. But I haven’t had a panic attack in, oh, six months? A little more? I don’t know. I haven’t texted my friends for help like that for probably longer. I’m still kinda failing a little bit, but we’re working on it. I haven’t straightened my hair in a year, probably. I have curly hair. It took me years to be able to admit to myself hay my hair is curly and that’s okay.

I like myself now. Some days I even love myself. I’m a good writer, a great writer, and I’m a nonbinary lesbian, and I have curly hair and I love reading and I like the way I look and the world is worth living in, you know?

But. Y’all know things will get better, or at least, that’s what everyone says. What you want to know is how to get there.

First: go into your camera roll, right now, and delete all of the quotes and screenshots and vent things you have in there. All of them. I mean it. Lookin at that stuff just puts you deeper in the headspace, trust me. Inspirational things? If they help you, sure, keep ‘em, but anything angsty, depressing, ranty, etc? Gone. Unfollow anyone who posts that sort of thing, or blacklist some tags, or something.

Second: get a diary, or a journal, or whatever you wanna call it. If you don’t wanna write in traditional style, don’t!! I write my journals in bullet points and some of the bullets are just “oof” or w/e and it works for me! I give each page a wacky lil title to make me laugh like if I’ve spent too long talkin bout something it’ll be “Shut UP About _____ Challenge” and just!! get a journal!! Write down what you’re thinking! It’s very good!!

Third: if at all possible, get a therapist. Obviously this can’t happen for everyone, but I swear if you can it’s really worth it. They aren’t just listening bc you pay them, seriously. I roll up to therapy every other week like “oh my god you would not BELIEVE the time I’ve had” and it’s honestly very healing just to talk. If you can’t, maybe a counselor if you’re still in school, or I think there are things online? Not sure off the top of my head. But anyway.

Just so y’all remember: it gets so much better, I swear to you. One day you will wake up and you will like the face that looks back at you in the mirror, and you will be able to tell yourself all the amazing things about yourself. You won’t really know how you got there, but you’ll be there, and it’s so very worth it.

[magicmorningmeteora]

M3 10th Anniversary Project Production Red Diary #11

In this entry, Magi-Kat examines various aspects of the Magical Girl and Witch archetypes for the sake of the project.

Masterpost

Greetings, Citizens of the Universe!

It’s been a long time since I said anything about this project, I realize... is what I’d say if this was actually a while. (Granted, the previous entry was delayed for about two weeks so it’d might as well have been a while.)

Witches and Fairy Godmothers

One of the first places I looked in my investigation was the “fairy godmother” archetype, which I will admit is a really strange place to be looking at for an idol narrative. 

If I may be honest, the “fairy godmother” motif was partially born out of a scrapped post idea about “the Fairy Godmother of Wota/H!P” who’d granted the wishes of the fanbase. (This was in 2007-2008 when there were a lot of complaints. Things calmed down by the time I started blogging again, though recent months are making me want to revisit the idea. In fact, one reason that post never got off the ground is because the requests are so numerous!)

Heading back to this, the “fairy godmother” archetype is perfect for the idea of a regular girl becoming something more with the help of a “magic” hand. The figure is a form of the donor archetype, a magical helper or (to use terminology from Joseph Campbell) “Supernatural Aid.”

One thing I like is that in regards to the “fairy godmother” figure in fairy tales, the word “mahoutsukai” (often translated as “magician,” “witch,” “wizard,” etc) is often used in Japanese. This works well for my purposes as in regards to the character who’ll be Mei/May-May’s “fairy godmother” (who will be referred to as “Sei” in the rest of this post as the images pretty much gave it away), I wanted to blend aspects of the Witch archetype as well (hence the dissection of other tales involving witches i.e. Hansel and Gretel, Snow White, and The Little Mermaid).

Curse of the Witches

The second (formerly third) image is more of a way to help focus my thoughts. It’s more of a mantra to remind me of how idols can be an angel or a devil, depending on the perspective of the viewer. One person’s kamioshi (all-time favorite member, or at least the one that garner’s a person’s attention the most) is another’s “can’t stand her”dol of the day — and such feelings run through the spectrum in any way. Aces are especially prone to polarizing a base, especially across international lines, and even “underdogs” can have this treatment.

Also, if you’re familiar with the references in said third second image, keep it hush-hush, will you? ;) Let’s keep it between us Magical Girl fans and let the curious find out for themselves. (Besides, the very act of unveiling such mantras is controversial, in of itself.)

“Sheeeeeeeeeeeeee’s a Magical Girl”

Magical Girls come in all shapes and sizes and as part of the dissection, I looked into those forms. While the Idol aspect is the most obvious subtype for the purposes of this work, I had intended to reference all of the archetypes.

(I do realize that portions of this may sound familiar to diehard fans of the genre and I’ve skipped/missed a few significant examples. Feel free to add to the conversation.)

Witch

The Magical Girl genre itself can trace its roots to the 1960s and what is widely considered the first magical girl anime is Mahoutsukai Sally (Sally The Witch), created by Gigantor creator Mitsuteru Yokoyama as a result of the popularity of Bewitched among girls in Japan. (ANGERME fans should be familiar with that name as its theme song was famously covered by them as part of the Idol Matsuri event in 2015.)

The Witch archetype of Magical Girl relied a lot on the aspect of wish fulfillment and fantasy. It's centered around the use of everyday magic in life, resembling more like the slice of life fare than what typically pops up in a Westerner's mind when they hear the words "magical girl."

That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist anymore! There’s a few recent Magical Girl series about magic-using girls out now, like the new Cardcaptor Sakura anime and Little Witch Academia.

As for Wish Upon a Meteor, we can find two examples in the form of our mains. Sei and Mei embody the “Witch” aspect of the Magical Girl simply because “magic” is the core of their existence. (Of course, Sei is closer to a traditional witch than her beneficiary Mei, due to her role as a “fairy godmother” figure to her.)

Idol

Another type of Magical Girl is the Magical Idol archetype with one major progenitor being Creamy Mami. In addition to helping codify the Magical Idol archetype, it was an early instance of anime being used as a marketing tool for an idol (something that continues to this day. Hiya, Kira☆Revo fans~!).

In many instances, going with the wish fulfillment aspect, many of the early iterations of this had the girl transform into an older version of herself.

Obviously, Mei, Akari, Fuyuko all embody the Idol aspects the most. After all, being an idol is their modus operandi, their Call to Adventure in their individual Monomyths. Granted, like later Magical Idols (except maybe Lilpri, who are closer to the early “age-up” stuff), the girls remain their respective ages, but the same principles apply.

Warrior

The Warrior variant of the Magical Girl is arguably the most well-known of all, especially among Westerners. While Sailor Moon codified a lot of the tropes used in modern Magical Girl titles (and is an influential title), there were few predecessors, one of the most well-known being Devilman creator Go Nagai's Cutey Honey. In fact, after Sailor Moon Sailor Stars ended, a new anime adaptation of Cutey Honey called "Cutey Honey Flash" aired in its timeslot,  which was made with virtually the same staff as the outgoing Sailor Moon (along with being squarely a shoujo series, unlike CH's shonen beginnings).

Much like any seminal series, Sailor Moon would influence other popular Warrior-type MG series like Precure, Wedding Peach, and… too many others to name, but you probably know if you’re every bit as into the genre as I am.

As for our Magical Warriors, two come to mind: Akari and Fuyuko. One thought that often came to me was having Akari and Fuyuko secretly plot to expose Mei and Sei (they are vampires after all), acting as the Van Helsings to Mei and Sei’s Dracula. (Oddly enough, Mei’s very existence came from the “Dracula-chan” jokes surrounding Tamura Meimi and her “fangs.” I suppose it’s only fair that we’d have at least one Helsing-chan.)

Putting It All Together

Throughout it all, the magical girl has been a symbol fantasy and power. The Magical Witch uses magic to enhance daily life. The idol uses magic to enhance their career (if only to get their feet in the door -- the Magical Idol still has to improve their technical craft like the rest of us Muggles). The Magical Warrior uses magic to turn the tide of battle. In the end, one core thing is this: magic is what you make of it and mastering it is tantamount to mastering your personal growth (what MG story isn't some form of a coming of age story?) and in the end... isn't that what magic is about, making our lives (and ourselves) better for the long run?

You can follow the project using the tag #m3-10th-anniversary-project, either by following said tag/search, bookmarking the section, or via RSS.

Anyway, thank you for reading all of this and your support so far. I hope you’ll like the finished product once it arrives!