visited a botanical garden yesterday and found a hoard of goosamus and felt this needed to be drawn
hope this captures the AU accurately @originalartblog :]
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I've been thinking about the tragedy of Elizabeth Woodville living to see the end of her family name.
I don't mean her family with her husband, which lived on through her daughter and grandson. I mean her own.
Her sisters died, one by one, many of them after 1485. When Elizabeth died, only Katherine was left, and she would die before the turn of the century as well.
All her brothers died, too. Lewis died in childhood. John was executed. Anthony was murdered. Lionel died suddenly in the peak of Richard's reign, unable to see his niece become queen. Edward perished at war. Richard died in grieving peace. For all the violence and judgement the family endured, it was "an accident of biology" that ended their line: none of the brothers left heirs, and the Woodville name was extinguished. We know the family was aware of this. We know they mourned it, too:
“Buy a bell to be a tenor at Grafton to the bells now there, for a remembrance of the last of my blood.”
Elizabeth lived through the deposition and death of her young sons, and lived to see the end of her own family name. It must have been such a haunting loss, on both sides.
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Nori: This: dead tree. You: wizard with magic rejuvenating powers. Me: famished. Have at it.
The Stranger: The last time I tried this, someone nearly got crushed by a falling branch and I was exiled.
Nori: *deploys her big auld 'Harfoot Eyes'*
Nori: *it is very effective*
The Stranger: ...fine, but please get out of the potential blast range.
Nori: You're being paranoid-
The Stranger: *accidentally blows up the tree*
Nori: feck
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Not to keep beating dead horses like I so much love to do but I am still completely Flabbergasted and Astonished at how you (Merle Ambrose) could discover the most terrifying fact that a child that is essentially under your care has been indoctrinated into a cult (which, by the way, a process that has taken over the course of years) ((by an agent that has been stationed in a direct position to make it easier to access and manipulate children, that has easily escaped your notice for such a long time)) that worships a nihilistic entity whose ultimate goal is the absolute and total destruction of Everything and Everyone around you, and your one, single, simple-sentenced response to that is to say "Oh, that's a shame. He (Duncan) always was pretty terrible. Hope he gets better someday." And then to move on from those extremely worrying and dangerous bundle of issues permanently without taking any sort of action to protect the vulnerable and make sure nothing like this ever happens again
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that gaylor piece in the nyt is the most insane thing i've read in a long time, the way it dances to the edge of self-awareness and then falls off a cliff, repeatedly. she outright says that entertaining alternate readings is a form of gaslighting.
“Bet I could still melt your world; argumentative, antithetical dream girl.” An undeniable declaration of love to a woman.
... but it wasn't.
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My dumbass can't find your twitter, is it a different name-??
It is yeah!!! The sfw one is DragonSpagoot, and the 18+ one is DragonSpaghet ;v;
I'm currently not logged in to either since I've been taking a break the past few days, but fair warning I will be checking the 18+ account's followers as soon as I'm back. Those who don't have some sorta indicator of their age will be getting softblocked, and I'll block entirely if I find anyone underage
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something about the fact that half my writing battle involves the fact that I've been trying very, very hard to chew up and swallow any/all whine-y/joke-y complaints about writing that allow myself an escape hatch. like I'll find myself realizing I'm really fighting myself re: sitting down and making myself write, and that what i WANT to do is to just kind of shrug it off with a wink and a joke, and like.
instead i have to be really ruthless about not giving myself that escape hatch??? because i don't know why, but MAKING that joke-y complaint FEELS like an escape hatch to me?
like i think the instinct is to blow off a little steam that way and then get some commiserations and thereby giving myself that allowance?
but if i delete it and don't allow myself to post it then i'm still just. SITTING there with it. Sitting there with the not-having-written.
like I have to be very fierce and CONSCIOUS about not letting myself blow off steam re: writing too often, at least for right now, because i NEED that steam lmaooo
i am a little train who wants to complain my engine room is getting too hot, but i do in fact need the heat if i'm going to go anywhere
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