Heey I loved the hanahaki disease fic^^
Was wondering if i can request a part 2 with bachira and whoever else you want but only if you want to
Bachira Meguru – sunflower
Meguru has always been a confident guy, rarely events surprised him, that’s why when he coughed a beautiful yellow petal fly out of his mouth Bachira isn’t surprised at all “well, it was just a matter of time” he says to himself.
Meguru doesn’t want to avoid you, he swears, but everybody notices how quick he changes direction when he barely sees a strand of your hair.
It’s Isagi who first bring the topic up after an exhausting training, the only two guy remaining in the changing room.
“So…you have a crush on (y/n) right?”
Isagi you backstabber, how could you say the harsh truth in front of his face all of sudden.
And obviously, a fit of coughing started, and petals come flowing down like a waterfall from his mouth; what a nice way to doll up the fact he was more or less dying.
“Now you are worried Isagi? Maybe next time you should use your over-analysis skill on the field instead of investigating me” Meguru feels a little bad for thinking that, but just a little; maybe next time he won’t snoop around.
But Isagi is a hound and when he sets his eyes on a target he never lets go. That’s why Meguru is standing in front of you, knees already trembling, sunflowers scratching his throat.
“Why are you avoiding me! What have I done?”
Oh, Meguru sees the tears running down your face; it’s a look that doesn’t suit you at all.
But what can he do? Well, he laughs, laughs like a madman, ‘till one of those traitor petals come out from his mouth.
You look surprised, eyes wide open.
“W-what does this mean?”
“Don’t worry dear, it means I love you.” Meguru smiles
Well, it was easy to admit. It’s not like he could hide this anymore either.
And all of sudden the taste of blood on his lips takes a tinge of…strawberry? Oh, your lips are on his ones. Oh, the warmth of his chest is there because his heart is pumping full of love, not of those little thorns.
Oh, if only he knew it was going to be like this earlier.
Shidou Ryusei – pink petunia
Ryusei thinks of you as an NPC, one of those insignificant soulless pawns that in video games he enjoys killing so much.
Ryusei hates you with every cell running in his body, just looking at you makes his stomach writhe, shivers running down his skin making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Then one day his lungs start to burn too, “another symptom of disgust” he thoughts. Then a single petal comes out from his mouth; what a beautiful shade of pink.
So it wasn’t hate, it is love.
Ryusei can’t stand the thought. A useless NPC became an intrusive thought? You aren’t explosive, your beauty don’t stand out, and you don’t have a single thing in common with him, so why you? What the fuck is wrong with his brain chemicals?
And the more he thinks of how much he can’t stand you the more petals come out, mixed with spit and vomit, but what an explosive feeling you are making him feel.
Ryusei can only smile, he adores all of this. Death sound so exciting.
He tries to get more near you, maybe even hold you, every harsh comeback makes his heart beat faster “yes, it’s coming” and as fast as he came he runs away ready for the next exciting fit.
You never understood Ryusei, he always acted annoyed by your mere presence, not helping the crush you were harboring for him, so seeing him so often now was strange, but how could you complain?
After all, when he was next to you it was the only moment where you didn’t vomit petals. So you kept your façade when you only wanted to smother that demon's face with kisses.
This tug-of-war goes on for a month, an entire month, then the illness decides to get the upper hand.
That’s why you find Ryusei on his knees in front of you, shirt and pants stained by blood and pink petunias that just won’t stop coming out from his mouth, but he is smiling. The damn bastard is smiling and pointing at you. Bastard.
Does he hate you so much that he’ll rather die than love you? Bastard.
Tears stream down your face and you can feel your own flowers scratching your throat. Bastard.
You move, throw yourself at him and kiss him, as long as your lungs let you, but what’s worse is that Ryusei tries to push you away.
You let him go, the petunias stopped flowing out, you can hear his breathing returning normal, yours too.
Ryusei looks at you, thick eyelashes soiled with tears, but he is frowning.
“You have rather died than admit your feelings for me? Bastard!”
You run away, Ryusei stays there, still on his knees.
You’ll both have to sort things out
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endless love!
[ID Two drawing collage pages of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. In the first collage, top corner, Wolfwood looks upwards disgruntled with a flushed expression, lying against a pillow, as his hair is being pet by Vash's hand. Next shows Vash and Wolfwood from behind, Wolfwood with his top bare and hickies covers around his nape area. Vash lifts hair away from his nape and asks, "More?" Wolfwood nervously says, "No." Next is a side profile of Vash, his arms around Wolfwood from behind while Wolfwood rests his hands against Vash's arms. Next to this are two smaller drawings; Vash turns to Wolfwood and says repetitively, "Wolfwood, Wolfwood..." Wolfwood, not looking at him, says "What?" He finally turns his head and looks shocked as he exclaims, "So close!" Vash says plainly, "You just noticed?" Below these is a drawing of Vash and Wolfwood sitting together as Vash kisses and hugs him from behind with his right arm around Wolfwood's neck and his left hand around his side. He also has his right leg propped against Wolfwood's knee. Bottom of the page has a comic. Wolfwood looks annoyed, speaking to himself, "Where is that idiot?! Need to get out of town before--" A chat bubble exclaims, "Wolfwood!" The next panel shows Vash running from the townspeople, small text saying "Get him! Vash the stampede!". Wolfwood, mad and about to pull the Punisher off his shoulder, says, "Argh, you fucking dumbass!" Vash exclaims, "Ah, don't!" before pulling Wolfwood into a quick kiss. He then tugs on Wolfwood's collar and says, "There's no need to shoot, just run!" Wolfwood stammers, "R-right..." with a flushed, dumbstruck expression.
Second collage; Top left, Wolfwood spoons Vash in bed, his arms around his chest and the other beneath Vash's head. Vash has his hand on top of Wolfwood's as he sleeps while Wolfwood lies awake. Behind this drawing is faint sketches of Vash's face. In a small panel, Wolfwood hides in Vash's neck as he mumbles to himself "Stop. Stop thinking embarrassing things, Wolfwood..." Beneath this drawing is another of them in bed, Vash now turned to Wolfwood and a hand on his cheek as he kisses him good morning. In a simpler style, Vash wraps an arm tightly around wolfwood with the text "snork mimimi" next to him while Wolfwood says, "We need to get up. Spikey! HEY!" In this corner, there are faint sketches of Vash and Wolfwood; one of them looking at each other; Vash kissing Wolfwood's forehead; Wolfwood saying, "Hand" with an outstretch hand and Vash says "ok" behind a drawing of them holding hands, both turned away from each other shyly. Next is a 4 panel comic. First shows Wolfwood's face getting squished by Vash's hands with the text "squish" around his face. Next, his cheeks are stretched with the text "Chee--" Wolfwood then hits Vash's face with his palm, exclaimining "That hurts!" The last shows Vash on Wolfwood's lap, smiling to himself as he continues to have Wolfwood's face in his hands. Next to this is another comic; A close up of their hands, Vash holding Wolfwood's with both of his. He then kisses the palm of Wolfwood's palm and says, "They're soft!" Wolfwood looks at him with flushed cheeks, "There's no way that's true..." END ID]
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soapghost circus au
ghost’s an extreme motorcycle stunt performer - globe of death, riding on his back wheel along tightropes, that sort of thing
soap’s a fire breather/dancer. he’s a roaming performer; he just finds empty spaces or bored people and starts twirling
he pretends not to notice the way he always wanders towards a certain tent every night to watch a certain masked daredevil defy gravity. he thinks he's slick and that ghost won't notice him in the crowd, completely forgetting that he's carrying something that happens to be on fire
ghost couldn't miss him if he tried
one day off, soap's trialing fire whips; he loves the loud crack and the way the flame licks through the air and maybe he's a little too impatient to practice with non flaming whips first, even though he's never used one before
he's covered in soot and fine welts where the tip of the whip keeps flicking back up at him, cutting through his shirt and stinging his skin but he doesn't let that stop him. it starts to stick to him, damp with sweat and blood and he's quick to strip it off; throwing it to the side to keep practicing
when soap finally gets a few good cracks in a row and breaks to celebrate, he almost jumps out of his skin when he sees the masked rider leaning against a trailer watching him
of all the times he's wanted ghost to talk to him, this is not one of them
he wanted to impress him, dance for him with his flaming batons and be mesmerised by his fluidity and skill
not catch him filthy and struggling with something as basic as a whip
he's ready for ghost to ream him out for not having control over the whip - he's known throughout the circuit for expecting utter perfection in his routines - but when ghost finally does speak, it's only to ask if he's done for the day
soap falters for a moment. he wanted to get some consistency with the whip before he stopped, but he's starting to feel the hours of practice; muscles aching and skin blistered with minor burns
he says he is and ghost pushes off the trailer, nodding his head to make soap follow. he brings him back to his trailer and tells him to clean up then takes out his personal med kit to treat the grazes on soap's skin
soap's shocked; for all that he loves to watch ghost perform, they've never really talked before
part of why he joined the circus was so he wouldn't be a burden on anyone, the oldest in a family with too many mouths to feed and not even time to nurture, and here he is taking up ghost's valuable practice time bc he wasn't good enough to handle his own discipline. he tries to brush him off, downplaying the burns and tries to leave before half them can be treated but ghost just glares and orders him to sit back down
ghost does expect perfection from himself but it isn’t out of any malice or ego; it's bc he knows if he isn't perfect, he could very easily die. he’s picked a dangerous profession and he gives it the respect it deserves. there isn't any shame in being a novice or failing at something; he thinks there's a lot of beauty in having the courage to get back up again and again
so every day he watches soap practice and bullies him into his trailer to put him back together bc he knows he won't do it by himself
and every night soap wanders over to ghost's section of the fair grounds, in awe of his skill and wishing he could be worthy of the care he gives him
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There is something so good about Akutagawa--a very much feared, boogeyman like figure (even amongst his own men) in Yokohama because of his violence, bloodlust, and steadfast loyalty to a violent criminal organization such as the Port Mafia--given biblical angel symbolism
I don't know, something something about someone whose beauty is so incomprehensible and terrifying to most. He's not physically ugly, he's not--he's beautiful, the type of beautiful that almost feel as if he's not a real person, like he's a mirage, or a painting. But he's beautiful not like those renaissance cherubs and lovely looking maidens for angels, but more like the biblical angels with their beauty beyond mortal grasp, the beauty that brings fear and revulsion towards whoever sees them because they cannot comprehend it. Coming across him makes you understand why angels say, "Be not afraid" when they reveal themselves to mortals. An incomprehensible beauty that very few can keep looking at. A dangerous feat, literally and metaphorically.
(This isn't only with his physical appearance either--for someone who is constantly beaten down both by canon and by the fandom for being "simple", he is a terrifying bundle of different aspects that contradict each other. Like a super machine you open up and you see the intricate criss crossing of wires and bolts that hold it together. He's a mess of nerves and feelings and experiences so profound, so horrific, that you don't know where to start with him. To uncoil him and see him truly bare is almost impossible. Where does he end and the roots that connect him to the earth begin?)
Something about Akutagawa being an angel, a being created entirely to follow the will of "God", obey their every word. Unwavering loyalty to their master while singing praise. Acting entirely on the order of their master--wing always dipped in blood for his sake. A weapon of "heaven' that brings destruction to those who oppose "God" and be one of the many upon which "God" rests upon.
(Almost everything Akutagawa does is for the sake of the Port Mafia, taking orders from the "master" (boss) himself. Willingness and obedience and loyalty repeatedly exploited and used, everything he has done as one of the high ranking leaders handling most of the Mafia's dirty work playing a part so Mori's throne stays high.)
Something about comparing Akutagawa to a certain archangel, finding repulsion in "God"'s cherished creation, the inferiority that came with being "less" to "mankind", and the painful fall from grace to the deepest pits of despair when he confronts the being that created him, molded him, and then condemn him. And to his humiliation, mankind, for centuries, condemns him too.
(He can't be compared to Lucifer, God's most beloved angel. Maybe Dazai did value him, but it doesn't matter, does it? because the difference between the two is that one was cherished and one never was. However, you can compare the rage and humiliation Akutagawa felt towards Atsushi--for obtaining Dazai's approval and affection with no effort, no proper control over his skill or any seemingly differentiating quality-- to Lucifer's refusal to bow down to humanity--a creation inherently imperfect and lackluster, with not the qualities of angels. And as a result? Disgraced. Both by the creator and by ones that held their creator's favor. )
Something about Akutagawa being an angel--someone whose presence means nothing pleasant to those he appears before. A reaper of sorts, responsible for taking life and for souls to see the afterlife (killing both as an order and an act of mercy, for he despises torture and meaningless suffering). A guardian angel watching over "mankind" from afar, where he is not aware and saving him from certain death at his own expense.
There's just something so appealing about depicting Akutagawa--a fearsome, ruthless, and bloodthirsty mafioso, a boogeyman to his own men--as an angel, be it of death, of mercy, a destroying angel-- whatever anyone wants to see him as and use him for.
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okay so @quirkle2 sent me an ask about the aftermath of the Teru vs. Mob fight, and I went and wrote out the whole fight in the ask. I'm moving it to this post so that I can answer the Actual Question in the Actual Ask like a normal person. anyway here you go
Teru's Series of Really Bad Decisions
or, How Mob Came Out Of the Teru vs. Mob Fight Completely Unscathed
So here's the thing. Mob's zombie disease colony is pretty invested in keeping its host alive, so even while the fight is happening, he's healing really fast. And despite his top-dog persona, Teru doesn't actually enjoy injuring people. (The sensation of touching another person bothers him—that's why most of his attacks are things like slaps or punches, where he's only in contact with people for a moment before the force of the blow shoves them away. He'll kill or torture people, but he subtly avoids extended contact with them while doing so. It makes him nervous to resort to hands-on violence, because that's how a zombie fights and for his own survival, Teru HAS to act like he's above zombie behavior.)
So it takes Teru a while to work himself up to the point of actually committing to injuring Mob. At first, Teru is just punching him in the chest and stomach, shoving him (he pushes him into the school swimming pool at one point and then has to pull him back out because Mob never learned to swim and is drowning. major L for Teru's pride), taunting him, using blunt force and watching in disbelief while the other boy just takes it and breathes through the pain. He expected Mob to hit back right away, and then Teru would use a bit more strength and intimidate his opponent so much that he'd admit Teru's strength is way beyond him and then they'd be on amicable terms. But that doesn't happen.
Also, Dimple isn't back yet in this AU, so the fight takes place mostly in silence, which weirds Teru out. He's used to fighting with people yelling and screaming around him, and hearing nothing but pained noises and a few confused questions out of his opponent really bothers Teru. He grabs Mob and shakes him, asking why won't you fight back??. He's definitely like Teru! he's got the misty eyes and he's breathing out miasma and he has the healing ability to jerk his arms free of the ropes he was tied with and have the raw rope-scrapes on his arms heal over a minute later, but he won't! fight! back!!
Meanwhile, as Teru is shaking him by the shirt-collars, Mob is having flashbacks to his life wandering as a zombie before the cure. He's remembering Dimple clearer than he ever has before, and he's embracing those memories for once, clinging to his guilt over (he suspects) killing his friend. And, remembering how nice Dimple was to him and Ritsu, how Dimple shared strawberries with them, how he would coax Mob out of the rain, how Dimple reached for Mob's face while Mob's teeth were closing in his arm—he stares at Teru with all the loathing he feels toward himself, for killing Dimple.
Teru says, "What's with that look?"
Mob says, "I was just wondering, why do you feel the need to hurt people who are just trying to live? Do you think you have to, because you're a zombie?"
And Teru, who tries not to think of himself as a zombie, goes, "What?"
"Oh, I was just thinking—there was someone I knew who was a pretty good guy—compared to you. And I hurt him."
That makes Teru drop Mob like a hot potato. He doesn't want to fight like a zombie but he has to get this hypocrite who hurt his own friend and refuses to fight him to DO something—and they happen to be in the home ec room, right by the gas-powered generator for the home ec equipment, so Teru causes a gas explosion on purpose and blocks the door with his body, trying to force Mob to fight his way out to avoid burning alive. That's how Teru ends up losing his perfect hair—he may be special but he's still got zombie disease, his pain receptors don't work right and Mob is coughing too hard in the smoke to warn Teru that the fire ran along the ceiling and got to Teru's hair. The fire is how Mob's clothes get singed. He's not seriously burned, at least not by the time Teru sees him next (Teru rushed to the swimming pool when he realized his hair was on fire), but he's shaken and coughing and smells like smoke.
They both stumble out of the burning school building. Mob has his Moment Of Realization and correctly guesses that Teru's life is completely empty; Teru's acting like this because he's trying to ignore that he's a zombie and has no real friends because everyone is scared of him, and Teru isn't making any effort to live like a person instead of a monster.
That's when Teru just straight-up strangles Mob, throwing away his determination not to fight like a zombie. Mob has already ruined Teru's untouchable appearance and likely condemned Teru to being shot by his own people for causing all this property damage. Teru's life as a human is over already, he thinks. Mob refuses to fight back, passes out, ???% appears, you know how it goes.
And get this: Mob's zombie disease colony has expended a lot of its energy already (consuming its own drones for sheer power) to heal Mob from the blows and the burns, so when ???% puts his body into high gear, the colony registers EMERGENCY CONDITIONS and starts replenishing its energy using anything available—the colony deploys its own disease drones into the entire surrounding area and consumes all of the miasma in the air and water and, STILL not having enough energy for this, dives into Teru's body and eats 90% of Teru's colony. This is the equivalent of ???% absorbing all of the energy in the atmosphere AND Teru's psychic powers, which always makes me hold my breath in canon.
Teru can see this happening, by the way. Like Mob, he can sense the presence of zombie disease in all forms. He senses Kageyama's disease colony suddenly exploding from his body and eating all of the colonies in the area. what a sight to behold.
Anyway, so, yeah, Mob then wakes up with his body fully healed, in front of a burning school building, sensing absolute emptiness all around him.
He can't fix the school building. Not in this au. All he can do is kneel down and cry. He failed to change. He thought he was better now, he thought that he was in control of himself now, but he did it again—he hurt someone on accident again.
And then Teru stumbles over to him with his hip still spasming from where ???% threw him by his leg and goes, "Kageyama, you were right... without our power, we have nothing..."
and Mob looks up to see people stirring around them, and Teru is alive, he didn't kill Teru, he didn't kill anyone, and he goes back to Salt with the Body Improvement Club in a kind of shell-shocked daze.
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Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!
You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!
You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!
You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!
Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!
Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!
So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.
Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!
You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.
Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!
Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.
Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.
Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*
Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...
Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.
Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.
Better not get confident.
Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)
Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people
- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties
- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations
- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you
- you might start loving the effect you have on a room
- you might enjoy conversations more
- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently
- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations
- you might stop apologizing so much.
- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.
Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!
Why, it would be carnage!!
In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!
If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:
- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.
- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.
- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.
- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.
You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.
So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.
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So given that I hadn't put much thought into my true form design when I first made it (distracted by "I want to draw a comic, not design a true form"), then seeing all the other gorgeous designs out there, the updated information we got in fic, and some good true form cuddles in that Valentine's chapter earlier, I decided to redesign my take of @naffeclipse's cryptid boys!
Toddler and Hunter for scale <3
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I have One Thing Only and that is angels. A demigod can be like an angel, maybe. The mood of this wound up almost the polar opposite of my original idea.
I like the line art better than either color version, so it's under the crop.
The sketch went through about a dozen changes to both expressions and face positions, and in the end I'm still not really satisfied even if I like how Asperia came out.
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Hellooo silly tumblr people on my browser!!! I’ve decided to kind of avoid posting about murder drones stuff, and talk about it less frequently as it doesn’t interest me as much as it did, or at least until I’m able to get some new insight on episodes or teasers (which I may come back for). I’m really figuring out what I like and figuring out what I actually love drawing besides robots!! (Though I do LOVE robots they are wonderful creatures to me, just not drawing them 24/7) Who knows, maybe I’ll start talking about murder drones out of the blue, but I think it’s good to take a break from something every once in a while! I like finding out what I enjoy most :-)
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ill just never get over this panel or how its the first time we see natsume visibly upset and sad from his own perspective (something we dont really see much of because of the way his character works), especially because the plant disintegrating in front of him is representing much more than a plant and he can never ever have anything good in his life without fearing it would be harmed in some way to discipline him.
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In talking about Chaucer (p. 74), I said that, in general, puns and verbal connections of sound were unimportant and not to be sought out; and now, you will say, I have been using them to explain cruces in Shakespeare. Alas, you have touched on a sore point; this is one of the less reputable aspects of our national poet.
A quibble is to Shakespeare [Johnson could not but confess] what luminous vapours are to the traveller; he follows it at all adventures; it is sure to lead him out of his way and sure to engulf him in the mire. It has some malignant power over his mind.... A quibble was for him the fatal Cleopatra for whom he lost the world, and was content to lose it.
Nor can I hold out against the Doctor, beyond saying that life ran very high in those days, and that he does not seem to have lost the world so completely after all. It shows lack of decision and will-power, a feminine pleasure in yielding to the mesmerism of language, in getting one's way, if at all, by deceit and flattery, for a poet to be so fearfully susceptible to puns. Many of us could wish the Bard had been more manly in his literary habits, and I am afraid the Sitwells are just as bad.
William Empson, 7 Types of Ambiguity, ch 2 pp 100-101
i'm sorry this is so fucking funny. that pathetic loser shakespeare who loved puns so much it cost him everything, except of course his status as the most famous, most read, most immortal english-language author of all time. but everything else, he lost and it's all because of how weak he was to resist a pun :/ pouring one out for my sad little girly man who could have had it all if only he was better at writing, the thing he is the most famous guy in the world for.
even empson, who disagrees with johnson that shakespeare "lost the world", is like, too bad our favorite poet is susceptible to the thing that made him famous :/ really tragic that the guy whose wordplay we've been talking about for 300 years likes wordplay :///
also i can't get over writing a book about the types of ambiguity and NOT INCLUDING PUNS?? sorry but puns are ambiguous! that's where their juice comes from! imagine liking ambiguity so much you write a book about it but never mention puns except to dunk on them. imagine being a POET and POETRY CRITIC who looks down on sound-based ambiguity! could not be me!!
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come to think of it another reason I'm biased towards nine might be because we never reach such beautiful casual queer vibes as the doctor + rose + jack situation again, at least not as far as I've watched. like I'm honestly not that much of a shipper but that kiss scene DOES things to me. and part of that is how loosely defined the relationship seems to be, at least maybe from jack's perspective. I can't rightly say it was wholly romantic in canon, but it sure was something - yes, rose flirted with jack way more than the doctor did when they first met, but the doctor even just being chill about jack kissing him feels significant - and I do love a quasi-romantic loosely-defined Something.
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ok executive dysfunction is kind of ruining my life actually
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does the guy complaining about the amount of gay ultrakill fanart they see know they're on the gay fanart website???? "i cant scroll through the tag without seeing 30 fanarts of gabriel in a skirt" my brother in christ that man isnt wearing pants
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Waiting for Permission to Be Sick - Input Requested!
So, I got officially diagnosed with two chronic conditions last week. And the doctor explained to me the details of how these conditions affect my body, and what kinds of symptoms to look out for, and what I can expect life to look like going forward. And I got prescribed meds, and given detailed instructions for when to take them and any side effects I might experience and what to do to help myself feel better if I'm not feeling well, and all of that.
And I just. Haven't done it. I've started taking some of the meds, but not all of them, and like. There's no real reason for me not to? I'm just. Not doing it. Like I've looked up some products on Etsy to have like. Emergency medical info with me so that if I randomly black out or faint again in public, someone could see me and have info know what to do. And I've been looking at pins that say "I have an invisible disability" and aaaaaaaall sorts of stuff. Basically just window shopping for my chronic illness starter kit. But it's been over a week now and I haven't bought anything, and I seem to have convinced myself that I can't start taking my meds until I have all of my Items sorted out and prepared. And like -- there are some actual reasons for this, such as my schedule has been all over the place and my meds need to be taken at multiple times a day at certain intervals, and some with food and some without food, so I need to be able to have that stuff ready to go even when I'm out and about.
But I'm not. Actually doing the work to get everything sorted out and ready? I'm just window shopping. And today, I have been very tired all day because of the rain and because I did too much yesterday, and my head has been hurting because I'm still not over my concussion and I also probably did too much today, even though honestly all I did was go to one class and observe the whole time, and read a couple of emails. And I thought to myself, "well I guess I should take tylenol for my head, and I guess I can give myself permission to do that since my boyfriend is busy and can't tell me to take care of myself --- oh."
I have been waiting for someone to give me permission to identify as chronically ill! Even today I was like "I feel like I've managed to convince myself that I feel worse than I actually do, and I'm actually fine." Even though there would be no real reason for me to be doing that. And like. My head actually hurts! I really did and still do feel tired! And I've seen my test results, and I know that I have a chronic condition. It's been medically confirmed by a bunch of different tests, and multiple medical professionals have been like "yep you've got something wrong with you" (though using more professional and kind words, of course). All of this to say -- I have been waiting for someone to tell me that I am ill and it is chronic and that it is okay to spend money on taking care of myself and things that will make me feel better, even if it is only temporary like the excitement of buying a new pouch that says "This Bag Is Full of Drugs" specifically to keep my medical supplies in, or something to help keep me safe going forward like a medical alert key chain. The only question now is -- what do I do about this? How do I give myself permission to need help or extra accommodations or even just some medication when I never want to admit that I need or want help? I'm so used to being self-sufficient and doing everything by myself that I don't know how to be okay with more problems.
Has anyone else experienced something like this? What do you do? How do you learn to be okay with the fact that your body is not going to go back to the way it was before? I am only 22 and it's hard to accept that my life is not going to look the way I pictured it when I was 18.
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helloooo friend :D !! tis i, bug anon
saw you weren't doing great from previous asks, hope whtever is happening gets better :(
my college searching thing is going a bit (?) better BUT i have major concerns about being discriminated about at the university my parents want me to go to which sucks :/
in other news, i accidentally told a customer "happy valentines gay! :)" and she was like "???? thanks ?" I WAS MORTIFIED DUDE
also! if you don't mind, could you tell me a bit abt your religion/who you worship? the only reason i would ask is bc i saw your prayer thing for jellie and had never heard of that god/goddess before (i believe she's from Egyptian mythology? idk) anyway if you dont feel like sharing, no worries :D
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HEY BUG ANON!!! :D thank u for the well-wishes, i really appreciate them a ton!! I hope the college searching goes better, it sounds real rough on your end :((( also AKSNAKDNKS HAPPY VALENTINES GAY....... THATS SO FUCKJNG FUNNY HELP MEEEE if someone said that to me while out and about i would be ecstatic truly KSNDWKNDKSNSJSNS
Sure, i can try and give a quick crash course in kemeticism if you're curious!! (As a general disclaimer to any OTHER kemetics who might see this, im gonna attempt to keep this very layman-friendly, so if i skip nuances in favour of simplifying stuff thats why. I'll leave some resources at the end of this post!)
Uhhh okay so kemetic paganism is a neopagan religion based off of ancient egyptian religious practices. There are a lot of different ways folks practice kemeticism-- such as reconstructionism (or recon; aka strict adherence to the rituals of antiquity), revivalism (adapting ancient rituals and practices into the modern era), and eclecticism (for the sake of simplicity, we'll say this is essentially taking several different practices from many other religions and combining them all into one personal practice). I fall somewhere between revivalism and eclecticism, mostly by virtue of also working with Hermes and Loki, though my practice is primarily kemetic in nature.
In short, i worship the ancient egyptian gods-- my patron, or a god whom i am particularly close with and mainly dedicated to, is the cat goddess Bast (also known as Bastet, although thats actually a mistranslation of her name). Bast is known by many epithets, but one translation of her name is "Lady of the Ointments"; its written with the hieroglyphs for a bas-jar (aka a perfume/ointment jar) and a loaf of bread (the "t" sound). She's a solar goddess associated with protection, is an Iryt Ra (Eye of Ra; Goddesses who protect and nurture the sun god Ra), and like many (and i do mean many) other kemetic gods, also holds ties to fertility. In the past she was depicted as a lioness, then later became associated with the domestic housecat, where she picked up additional ties to motherhood; she also began picking up attributes from close association with Het-hert (Hathor), which resulted in further associations with music, dancing, and the arts. She's often depicted holding an aegis (a collar-like necklace with a deity's head on it) and a sistrum (a musical rattle).
She's a very fierce but loving goddess whom i have been worshipping for the last 11 years :] i also work with other kemetic deities-- of my "personal quintet," as i like to joke, i work with Djehuty (Thoth), Sekhmet, and occasionally Sutekh (Set/Seth) and Heru-wer (Horus the Elder). And, ofc, from outside the kemetic pantheon i work with Hermes and Loki, who happens to be my other patron!!
Im very glad that my formal petition to Bast for Jellie has brought those who have seen it some much-needed comfort, and its nice that its also made some people curious about kemeticism!! If youve got any specific questions, feel free to drop me a line off anon or in dms! :] im always happy to chat!!
Some further reading if you're interested:
Per-Bast (a website dedicated to Bast that holds very good information and resources)
Kemetic Starter Guide
Kemetic FAQ
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