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ofbreathandflame · 11 months

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With the rise of booktok/booktwt, there's been this weird movement against literary criticism. It's a bizarre phenomenon, but this uptick in condemnation of criticism is so stifling. I understand that with the rise of these platforms, many people are being reintroduced into the habit of reading, which is why at the base level, I understand why many 'popular' books on booktok tend to be cozier.

The argument always falls into the 'this book means too much to me' or 'let people enjoy things,' which is rhetoric I understand -- at least fundamentally. But reading and writing have always been conduits for criticism, healthy natural criticism. We grow as writers and readers because of criticism. It's just so frustrating to see arguments like "how could you not like this character they've been the x trauma," or "why read this book if you're not going to come out liking it," and it's like...why not. That has always been the point of reading. Having a character go through copious amounts of trauma does not always translate to a character that's well-crafted. Good worldbuilding doesn't always translate to having a good story, or having beautiful prose doesn't always translate into a good plot.

There is just so much that goes into writing a story other than being able to formulate tropable (is that a word lol) characters. Good ideas don't always translate into good stories. And engaging critically with the text you read is how we figure that out, how we make sure authors are giving us a good craft. Writing is a form of entertainment too, and just like we'd do a poorly crafted show, we should always be questioning the things we read, even if we enjoy those things.

It's just werd to see people argue that we shouldn't read literature unless we know for certain we are going to like it. Or seeing people not be able to stand honest criticism of the world they've fallen in love with. I love ASOIAF -- but boy oh boy are there a lot of problems in the story: racial undertones, questionable writing decisions, weird ness overall. I also think engaging critically helps us understand how an author's biases can inform what they write. Like, HP Lovecraft wrote eerie stories, he was also a raging racist. But we can argue that his fear of PoC, his antisemitism, and all of his weird fears informed a lot of what he was writing. His writing is so eerie because a lot of that fear comes from very real, nasty places. It's not to say we have to censor his works, but he influences a lot of horror today and those fears, that racial undertone, it is still very prevalent in horror movies today. That fear of the 'unknown,'

Gone with the Wind is an incredibly racist book. It's also a well-written book. I think a lot of people also like confine criticism to just a syntax/prose/technical level -- when in reality criticism should also be applied on an ideological level. Books that are well-written, well-plotted, etc., are also -- and should also -- be up for criticism. A book can be very well-written and also propagate harmful ideologies. I often read books that I know that (on an ideological level), I might not agree with. We can learn a lot from the books we read, even the ones we hate.

I just feel like we're getting to the point where people are just telling people to 'shut up and read' and making spaces for conversation a uniform experience. I don't want to be in a space where everyone agrees with the same point. Either people won't accept criticism of their favorite book, or they think criticism shouldn't be applied to books they think are well written. Reading invokes natural criticism -- so does writing. That's literally what writing is; asking questions, interrogating the world around you. It's why we have literary devices, techniques, and elements. It's never just taking the words being printed at face value.

You can identify with a character's trauma and still understand that their badly written. You can read a story, hate everything about it, and still like a character. As I stated a while back, I'm reading Fourth Wing; the book is terrible, but I like the main character. The worldbuilding is also terrible, but the author writes her PoC characters with respect. It's not hard to acknowledge one thing about the text, and still find enough to enjoy the book. And authors grow when we're honest about what worked and what didn't work. Shadow and Bone was very formulaic and derivative at points, but Six of Crows is much more inventive and inclusive. Veronica Roth's Carve the Mark had some weird racial problems, but Chosen Ones was a much better book in terms of representation. Percy Jackson is the same way. These writers grow, not just by virtue of time, but because they were critiqued and listened to that critique. C.S. Lewis and Tolkien always publically criticized each other's work. Zora Neale Hurston and Langston Hughes had a legendary friendship and back and forth with one another's works which provides so much insight into the conversations black authors and creatives were having.

Writing has always been about asking questions; prodding here and there, critiquing. It has always been a conversation, a dialogue. I urge people to love what they read, and read what they love, but always ask questions, always understand different perspectives, and always keep your mind open. Please stop stifling and controlling the conversations about your favorite literature, and please understand that everyone will not come out with the same reading experience as you. It doesn't make their experience any less valid than yours.

#long post #literary critique #literary criticism #booktok #books & libraries #booktwitter #but yeah it’s really hard for me to embrace booktube #and BookTok when the conversations that are most prevalent #are the ones telling people to not be critical of what they’re reading #esp the ones who desparately don’t want to understand differing opinions #‘how could you not like this’ or ‘how could you hate this character’#easily #because I can #a traumatic backstory isn’t gonna erase a bad story #it isn’t going to make a character or book compelling #more trauma doesn’t make the story more complex #see: with fourth wing.#thank you for reading this long rant #congrats if you make it to the tags💀😭

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compacflt · 10 months

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This is niche (maybe) but please share more about ice and mav at Oshkosh!! Do they go yearly? Or just the one time? Are they part of any aviation enthusiast communities???

yes yes yes!!! going to air shows is 100% a date for both of them. i feel like: a couple things:

- they’ve both probably seen the blue angels so many times it’s not super exciting anymore, and until they retire & become private citizens it’s also too big of a Thing for them to go, so they try to go to civilian/private air shows if they can

- one exception is fleet week for obvious rzns. They both probably have to do shit for fleet week on the reg. Ice especially

- i do keep thinking it would be funny for mav to do like a two year tour with the BAs at some point but there wasn’t room for that in the narrative so it’s Schrödinger’s headcanon

- before they retire their schedules are super crazy packed & don’t always line up, even if they request certain dates (like each other’s birthdays, Xmas, thanksgiving, Oshkosh etc) off in advance, so Oshkosh specifically doesn’t become yearly until after they retire. But after they retire they do annually fly in to Oshkosh in their p-51. lots of picnic lunch breaks in Reno/Omaha/Boise etc

- theyve been to the big international air shows (farnborough, Paris, NOT dubai for security/gay people issues, etc) together a couple times when they can swing it. (Me looking for any excuse to send them back to europe on vacation) but before they retire it’s also probably a Thing. So Thing-ness (public & Navy engagement etc) has to be accounted for when they’re planning their trip. they do have a responsibility to rep the Navy as best as they can etc etc

- Thing-ness also has to be accounted for when joining aviation enthusiast groups… after they retire & get married hell yes!!! they probably have a ton of civilian aviation friends & are pretty involved. not before their marriage though. It takes a while for them to come out of the hidden little shell they’ve been living in for thirty years & make friends as a real couple. but they do eventually.

#maverick criticizing the blue angels every time they see them ‘I would’ve done it cooler’#joint blue angels thunder birds show ‘oh my god. WHAT does the Air Force think they’re doing. such poor form #it’s such a shame to abuse a viper like that i would’ve done it 10x better’#this one-shot is another one i haven’t read since I posted it in October #hmm.#some issues #PLANES DONT RUST THEYRE ALUMINUM (but it’s for the metaphor so it’s ok)#i think when you read my plane writing moments you can tell that i am very very enthusiastic about planes #but i don’t know the first thing about how they work or how to fly them #my boyfriend did my physics homework & took my physics tests for me in high school. i never learned even elementary physics #it was covid high school okay we all had to make do #bernouilli’s principle??? it’s all greek to me love <3 #(hungry for pussy voice) (twirling my hair) pressure differentials are like soooo interesting #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #icemav #top gun #asks #props to all you STEM people. i can’t do basic math #i keep entertaining the idea that ice & mav buy a t-38 in the late 2010s #after i saw a t-38 on sale for $800k apparently you can just buy them #that’s the dream

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scientia-rex · 2 months

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When I was in ninth grade I wanted to challenge what I saw as a very stupid dress code policy (not being allowed to wear spikes regardless of the size or sharpness of the spikes). My dad said to me, “What is your objective?”

He said it over and over. I contemplated that. I wanted to change an unfair dress code. What did I stand to gain? What did I stand to lose? If what I really wanted was to change the dress code, what would be my most effective potential approach? (He also gave me Discourses on the Fall of Rome by Titus Livius, Machiavelli’s magnum opus. Of course he’d already given me The Prince, Five Rings, and The Art of War.)

I ultimately printed out that phrase, coated it in Mod Podge, and clipped it to my bathroom mirror so I would look at it and think about it every day.

What is your objective?

Forget about how you feel. Ask yourself, what do you want to see happen? And then ask, how can you make it happen? Who needs to agree with you? Who has the power to implement this change? What are the points where you have leverage over them? If you use that leverage now, will you impair your ability to use it in the future? Getting what you want is about effectiveness. It is not about being an alpha or a sigma or whatever other bullshit the men’s right whiners are on about now. You won’t find any MRA talking points in Musashi, because they are not relevant.

I had no clear leverage on the dress code issue. My parents were not on the PTA; neither were any of my friend’s parents who liked me. The teachers did not care about this. Ultimately I just wore what I wanted, my patent leather collar from Hot Topic with large but flattened spikes, and I had guessed correctly—the teachers also did not care enough to discipline me.

I often see people on tumblr, mostly the very young, flail around in discourse. They don’t have an objective. They don’t know what they want to achieve, and they have never thought about strategizing and interpersonal effectiveness. No one can get everything they want by being an asshole. You must be able to work with other people, and that includes smiling when you hate them.

Read Machiavelli. Start with The Prince, but then move on to Discourses. Read Musashi’s Five Rings. Read The Art of War. They’re classics for a reason. They can’t cover all situations, but they can do more for how you think about strategizing than anything you’re getting in middle school and high school curricula.

Don’t vote third party unless you can tell me not only what your objective is but also why this action stands a meaningful chance of accomplishing it. Otherwise, back up and approach your strategy from a new angle. I don’t care how angry you are with Biden right now. He knows about it, and he is both trying to do something and not doing enough. I care about what will happen to millions of people if we have another Trump presidency. Look up Ross Perot, and learn from our past. Find your objective. If it is to stop the genocide in Palestine now, call your elected representatives now. They don’t care about emails; they care about phone calls, because they live in the past. I know this because I shadowed a lobbyist, because knowing how power works is critical to using it.

How do you think I have gotten two clinics to start including gender care in their planning?

Start small. Chip away. Keep working. Find your leverage; figure out how and when to effectively use it. Choose your battles, so that you can concentrate on the battle at hand instead of wasting your resources in many directions. Learn from the accumulated wisdom of people who spent their lives learning by doing, by making mistakes, by watching the mistakes of their enemies.

Don’t be a dickhead. Be smarter than I was at 14. Ask yourself: what is your objective?

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shitacademicswrite · 1 year

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I want to share something for those of you who are teaching and want your conservative students to be more open-minded to liberal ideas that you’re presenting.

I grew up in a conservative family and a conservative town, and like most conservative kids, had been told that colleges were hotbeds of liberalism, so I was already defensive politically when I started college. My first semester or two I was really skeptical of everything political that my professors presented me with.

And then I took a women’s studies course (required at my college). And on the first day, the professor said,

“You don’t have to be a feminist. There are days when I’m not a feminist. But we’re going to discuss feminist ideas in this class, and you might find that you agree with some of them and disagree with others, and that’s fine.”

And that took the pressure off. By telling me that I didn’t HAVE to be a feminist, that I didn’t HAVE to agree, that professor started me on the road to becoming a feminist. I particularly remember her giving us information about what a huge percentage of the housework was still done by women, even in [hetero] couples where both the man and woman worked outside the home. And after that I remember saying, “I’m not a feminist, but I can see where they’re coming from.”

Within 5 years, I was claiming the term and coming out to my mom as a feminist.

So when I taught college writing, I assigned politically liberal essays to my students, many of whom came from conservative backgrounds. And before they read the first one, I would say,

“The reading for the next class--I want you to know that you don’t have to agree with it. You don’t have to agree with anything that your professors teach you in college. But the point of a college education is to have your mind opened to other points of view. So you’re not required to agree, but you are required to approach the reading with an open mind. You might find that you agree with some things the author says and disagree with others. And that’s cool! We WANT you to use your critical thinking and decide for yourself what you think about things! But to do that, you need to give people the benefit of the doubt and be open-minded to what they have to say.”

And I have to say, it worked really well for me! I remember in particular that after I assigned the essay “Black Men and Public Space”, one of my students wrote in her reading reflection,

“I was taught in school that racism in America ended with Martin Luther King. I am appalled to discover that this is not true.”

Priming your students to be open-minded, while also encouraging them to use critical thinking, can help to break down some of the automatic defenses against new ideas that students are often taught. Approaching your students’ comments during discussion with an open-minded view yourself, validating their experiences while also making gentle counterarguments, can do a lot as well.

#teaching #college #education #pedagogy #persuasion

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notherpuppet · 3 months

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I know they’re probably not going to go into this (which i understand, there’s only so much time in an episode and they’re telling a different story) but I think about Al’s background a LOT. Get ready if ur in the mood for a read.

To be a mixed Black person in America is a…bizarre experience. You come to realize that due to the coincidence of your genetic makeup, white folks may divulge information that they keep so closely guarded from the ears of “more obvious-looking” black folks. Im gonna bring it back to Alastor, but lemme give some personal context. I’m mixed with Filipino, so I’m pretty obviously not white, yet my ambiguous ethnic makeup in a predominantly white suburbia seemed to make white peers and people feel much more at ease in relaying their criticisms or prejudices of black people to me. I would hear someone feel comfy enough to spew vitriolic racist shit with me, then toe the line like a circus acrobat when around someone a few shades darker in skin tone and a few coils curlier in hair texture. It was constantly infuriating and holding my tongue was a practice to both investigate someone’s true nature and preserve my own safety. I did abandon that method of navigating life in America, and experienced the switch-up white folks made when I started ‘broadcasting’ my blackness. (E.G. beyonce pre vs. post Lemonade). The criticisms and prejudice confessions just came less often, til I saw them being caged up completely after white peers experienced backlash from me. After they realized “OH this bitch is a n*****!?”

Now this is from someone who is brown, but i also wanna talk about my white-passing cousin with a similar racial makeup as Al, who is from the south and oh BOY. (Let’s call him J for this post’s purposes). J’s navigation though simple daily life is such a constant contradictory experience, of which he is still working through in therapy. I think of one moment when he was manager at retail gig and his boss told him that whenever a Black customer enters, it’s policy to give them “exceptionally attentive customer service”. Essentially, “follow that n***** around”. This is just one modern incident of when J would hear the quiet part out loud, despite his Blackness, because his appearance was white enough to make white folks drop their guard. Eventually, my cousin and I took to the same direction where we used our advantage of disarming white folks against them when the time came. We would keep note and record of racism and unlock a sort of “this you?” when the opportunity to expose that person’s true nature came. It’s pretty vengeful thinking ngl, but it is really REALLY hard to resist exposing an asshole rather than attempting to teach an asshole to change their ways. Especially given that such an attempt is an ARDUOUS uphill battle. The experience of KNOWING the truth about what someone thinks of your people, and being opened to opportunities and information that you would not have access to if the chance of your genetics was only slightly different is bIZARRE, horrific, and fuel for constant inner turmoil. (It sucks y’all)

Now back to Alastor; to have been a mixed person in the Deep South in 1930s America—it’s not too difficult for me to imagine how traumatic and convoluted that experience must have been. Especially when legally and socially, things were so much more Black and White. And when you’re on the line in between that, when society does not prepare a place for your existence, it can be SO isolating. You may consider the absurdity of such an arbitrary method of determining class, status, and/or caste much earlier in life than peers, which only further isolates you. You hold a resentment of society now that you know exactly how the other side is operating to ensure your oppression.

And then I think of Al’s weird ass moral code. How he arrived in Hell and (according to Mimzy) began killing overlords with reckless abandon. This is someone who likely had to develop the cunning to navigate 1930s Deep South America as a mixed, murdering, psychopath without getting caught by authorities who are already gunning for you. And now he is in Hell where the rules of society have gone up in smoke and he can fully embrace his rage, resentment, and vengeance. A desire to burn down the powerful people of the world can be accommodated and ANY previous inhibitions can finally be released. The morality of rising above someone by cutting them down (instead of developing emotional/spiritual healing) has become the easier and satisfying option. Finally the opportunity to show the power-secure villains of the world how easily you can tear them down when nothing is holding you back any longer.

TLDR; The trauma of racism in America is pretty sufficient cannon fodder for a severe psychotic break, the development of socially debilitating behaviors and isolation, and a quest for profound vengeance. So maybe that can explain some of the enigma that is Alastor.

And this is just ONE facet of Al. I didn’t even get to bring up the isolation that comes with being an aroace nonbeliever in the 1930s Deep South. Like FUCK. I’m a mixed, aroace nonbeliever from a modern day conservative town and yall….what a weird experience for sure lol but anyway lemme get back to my life. Whole point of this was—-WHAT AN INTERESTING FUCKEN CHARACTER TO THINK ABOUT

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel spoilers #it’s an alastor analysis yalllll #character analysis gives my media and art engagement brain the wiggles #also I hate racism!!!! :)

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blue-mood-blue · 5 months

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I’ve grown to appreciate the aus where Shen Yuan enters the story as “Shen Yuan” - same name, probably similar face, generally able to interact with PIDW as himself and change the story through his added presence. I like the sense of “if only you’d been here, things might have been better the first time around” of it all.

And I was thinking, it’s a funny coincidence in that scenario that someone named Shen Yuan gets put into… another Shen Yuan. What are the chances? What a weird twist of fate that Airplane would pick out the name that his most dedicated critic could slip into seamlessly.

What about a version where it’s not coincidence at all?

Airplane goes to school with a kid named Shen Yuan. He’s prickly and hard to approach and a little intense, but Airplane is persistent. In fairness, Airplane is relentless - and maybe it’s a good thing that they end up being friends, because they’re a little too much for anyone else to handle. They balance each other out. They’re the “weird kids” in class and they’re okay with that, because even when they don’t have any words for it, they know they’re not like their classmates, not really. That’s okay; they don’t want to be.

Recesses and breaks are consumed with the elaborate stories that Airplane wants to tell, and all the holes Shen Yuan pokes into them. It’s not mean-spirited, though, even though Shen Yuan isn’t the kind to temper his words. It’s passionate. He cares about those stories the way Airplane cares about them, and it can’t be mistaken for anything else when they lean together conspiratorially across the lunchroom table. They’ve both got notebooks filled with details and characters and monsters. Shen Yuan’s practically got a whole bestiary sketched out in wobbly childhood attempts at art, entries fervently scrawled beside them. Airplane prattles out plots nonstop, always with the promise of shining eyes and being asked “what happens next?”

They come up with a whole world together. Airplane’s going to write about it someday. Shen Yuan is going to read every word.

Shen Yuan misses school. Shen Yuan starts missing school a lot.

Airplane goes to the hospital room instead. He doesn’t think to worry, because Shen Yuan is okay - that’s what he says. He looks okay, and he’s a kid, and it doesn’t feel real that anything bad should happen to a kid. He doesn’t think to worry. He doesn’t think to say goodbye.

It’s one of the older Shen brothers who catches him on the way up to the room one day, in the hallway just outside - snaps at him to go the fuck home, and when Airplane hesitates, pushes him into the elevator and tells him not to come back. “Tells” is a generous way to describe the way the words come out - a growl, a hiss, the sound an animal would make when a hand got too close to a wound.

(It’s not fair to name a villain after him, even if the name never really comes up in the story. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He’d lost a brother minutes before, and he was getting his brother’s friend out of the way so he didn’t have to… see. It isn’t fair, but then, none of it is fair.)

Death feels very real after that.

The notebooks get shoved into a closet, and it’s not until Airplane’s moving out and one falls on him from a high shelf that he thinks about it again. He’s written things, lots of things, but nothing as ambitious as this - nothing as important. It could be good, he considers. He’d promised. Shen Yuan wanted to read it.

The problem was that no one else does, not for a long time, not until Airplane has whittled himself and his art into a corner and into such an unfamiliar shape that he has to wonder how it’s still his own face he sees in the mirror. He has to eat. He has to pay rent. Shen Yuan would yell at him, but Shen Yuan isn’t there to yell at him, and who cares. Who cares if it could have been better? The people who actually are here love it, and it’s paying his bills, and sometimes stories don’t go the way they’re supposed to and the world is fucking unfair. It doesn’t matter.

(It does. But he shoves that thought away along with styrofoam cups and soda bottles to the bottom of a garbage bag.)

Authors are not gods and their power is limited, but Airplane exercises just a sliver of what he’s been granted and gifts an inconsequential sort of immortality. He thinks about making him a rogue cultivator, maybe the kind that goes around documenting beasts and compiling his findings. He thinks about making him someone too powerful for death to touch, or too important to threaten, but when Airplane looks at the world he crafted and everything that’s become of it, it feels like the kindest thing he can do for Shen Yuan is a childhood where he’s loved, and a death that’s peaceful. What does it say about that world, that he’d kill off his best friend too early again instead of making him live there?

(The best writing he ever does is the only, shining moment of humanity that his scum villain ever displays: a lament about death that comes too early, about a brother gone too soon. The commenters praise him. The commenters flatter over how real the emotions feel. The commenters don’t get any response from Airplane on that chapter.)

Death is incredibly real when it comes for him too early, too, still hovering over his keyboard with the story technically finished and incredibly incomplete. Airplane could tell himself that’s because the written version can never be the version in the writer’s head, always shifting and with every possibility still on the table, but he knows better than that. The System knows better than that, with its condescending message about “improving” his writing and “closing plot holes” and “achieving his original vision”...

…and he’s a child again. He’s a child in his own story, he’s Shang Qinghua now without the benefit yet of a peak or cultivation or anything, and maybe he’s a little bitter, and a little scared, and…

And Shen Yuan - with longer hair, with robes, with a couple of older kids watching him from across the street, but undeniably the prickly little boy who used to sit down imperiously across from him and tell him everything that was wrong with the chuck of writing that had been handed to him last period, but with that smile that said he was only invested because he knew it could be better and they were going to make it better - marches up to him with a fire in his eyes and a frown that warns of a coming tirade.

“You told it wrong,” is the first thing he says.

Shang Qinghua wants to ask how him how he’s here, how this is possible, or maybe laugh because, yeah - yeah, Shen Yuan has no goddamn idea how wrong he got absolutely everything.

(Shang Qinghua wants to say “I missed you” and “why did you leave so soon” but he’s here now. He’s right here.)

“I know,” he says instead. “I’m sorry. It all kind of… spiraled out of control.”

Shen Yuan frowns, but then it dissipates the way it always does, and his eyes shine with ideas the way they always used to. “That’s okay,” he relents, grabbing for his hand. “We’ll fix it. We’ll make it what it was supposed to be.”

#scum villain self saving system #svsss #shang qinghua #shen yuan #airplane shooting towards the sky #this got more into the feelings than i thought it would #surprising no one #anyway just! childhood friends au! as a reason for a shen yuan insert!#obviously he is not going to die as a child in this version #shang qinghua would not have that nope not again #also pls consider poor shen jiu who looks at this child that shen yuan has picked out for a best friend like '...really? that one??'#(it's up to you if he's shen yuan's actual brother from his first life)#(put there's a part of me that likes the idea that shen jiu also gets a second chance to spend more time with his brother)#a second chance for them to grow up together!#THAT SAID #RIP TO SHANG QINGHUA #WHEN SHEN YUAN IS OLD ENOUGH TO LEARN ABOUT ALL THE PAPAPA #the LOOKS shang qinghua is going to get #anyway here have a thing because I CANNOT add another au to my drafts thank you and goodbyyyyye

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yourpsicodelicbitch · 6 months

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astro thoughts pt blablabla 🫴🏼

Leo mercury + 6H, she’s a perfectionist and has such a creative, intelligent and confident mind. she’s PRACTICAL and knows her worth -describing a friend-.

Uranus/Neptune retrograde could mean struggle to exit a toxic group, “friends”.

Mercury retrograde not necessarily represents obvious or visible problems/conditions with speaking, stutter or dyslexia, etc. I’ve noticed they could seem rude, too direct, not diplomatic, they could have difficulties explaining themselves. they could generalize often or they don’t ask about certain things bc they’re ashamed.

when your mars is in their 2H you feel so comfortable with them. in other words, the other day I hooked up with the person I share this synastry and I felt incredibly comfortable, seeing each others naked and don’t feel ashamed or judged. idk it’s funny to me, I’ve never felt that way -casual situation-, like I could even fart and he won’t even judge. too explicit I’m sorry 😭. I’m gonna stop with the mars 2H synastry

I’ve read a lot of comments about black moon in lilith 7H that says they could be part of a 3rd party or be “the other women”. I have that placement in my natal chart and already a couple of times my friends who end up a 2 year relationship propose me to be their sneaky link. also, it could mean that the girlfriends/ boyfriends/partners of your friends could be jealous of you, the Lilith 7H person.

9H stellium in solar return signifies improvement, learning, to expand your horizons, to start a new period of high/education/learning.

in this whole period of time I’ve learned about my needs and how to communicate them (Chiron 3H in solar return): for example, I’ve seen people and I wanted something casual but didn’t know how to make myself understood. I didn’t even know what I wanted, so I’ve learned it during this period. It doesn’t count only in situationship stuff, it’s an example.

Uranus 4H in Solar Return: yes, it doesn’t mean you’ll end up moving to another country. I’ve seen a CHANGE in my family dynamic. believe me, if my “me” from one year ago observes my family dynamic now, she would be SHOCKED.

Solar return mars conjunct Part of Fortune: yes, I’ve been 🤓📚🫦

Solar moon square uranus: I was a good girl all that time 🥰 I was suffering, struggling so hard so things will be in order, pretty and diplomatic… My feelings and ideas didn’t match what I usually used to do: do whatever I want (uranus ruled). I wanted but my subconscious was telling me to keep calm so all the trust or time i gave to build that environment won’t be wasted. then, unintentionally, I broke that diplomatic environment after my birthday. it felt really good, like it was me again😩

natal saturn 1H why so conservative and traditional? I’m not affirming is a bad thing but this placement often behaves exaggeratedly, too disciplined/formal. they could be too focused on what should be and how things should work instead of appreciating the whole situation. they could end up judging others too much, evidencing the amount of criticism they have on themselves.

pluto 9H not everything has to do with politics. -yes and no, it’s debatable-. my point is, relax, sometimes life it’s not how you wanted to be. let things be🧘‍♀️

Lilith (mean) 5H you were the experiment of your parents, don’t you?

Node trine Jupiter tells me you can overcome challenges in your life even if you have a lot of chiron aspects in your natal chart 😭 idk if it’s understandable. What I mean is that the universe has your back, this aspect goes through deep experiences that have the previous mentioned effects on them.

Ascendant - Mercury aspects: job that has to do with communication 🤪 too obvious but I’ve noticed. lawyer, publicity, etc.

sun opposition sun synastry: opposites attracts.

pluto opposition juno natal tells me you have to work first on yourself to enter a relationship, to solve those control issues. also meaning that if you didn’t work on yourself, you could have being the one directing the relationship.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

❀ Based on personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings

❀ English is not my first language

❀ I’m not a profesional astrologer

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

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hotluncheddie · 6 months

Text

high masking autistic steve harrington follow on from this post

ao3

wc: 2.6k | rated: T | cw: description of a meltdown with semi aggressive stimms | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie and robin but this is about stevie), hurt/comfort, stobin soulmates, steddie, steve Harrington has shitty parents

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

he failed. he graduated. but he failed. those unsaid words between him and his parents. some get said. the bad ones, about him, they get said. over again like he’s 5 and being told is behaviour isn’t acceptable. that how he is isn’t right. ‘shape up or ship out’, basically. steve knows he can’t go anywhere new, not right now. only freshly recovered, physically at least. mentally; he’s still unacceptable.

when steve works at scoops. it’s so fucking bright in there. so fucking bright, all day and he can’t focus and talking to people gets so much harder. it’s not like school where he can zone out in class and turn it on during lunch, in between, keep up his face with the people around him and sink back into his head during chemistry. no. now it’s all the time, customer after customer. that he has to talk to, put on a smile for, read so he gives them what they want and they leave happy. it’s exhausting. girls don’t like him anymore, they don’t react to him the same way. he doesn’t think he likes them much either though because they’re so much more annoying when it’s so fucking bright.

but robin (robin who cycles to work with sunglasses on and doesn’t take them off till she has too) she turns the lights down during open and close. so those couple hours, it’s not so bad. not so stressful. a little bit less loud.

after the mall burns down steve starts letting her in. tries too. she makes it obvious enough to him that she wants him there. she asks him to stay and calls him at night and he just wants to be enough for her. eventually he’d swallowed his pride and bolstered his courage and called her after a string of nightmares. asking her to stay the night. but then she was there, and it was like everything was thrown off. she was grating on his already freyed nerves but he didn’t know what to say. how to fix it without upsetting her.

but that night, a mirror of the mall bathroom played out in steves en-suite. steve had freaked. hidden. but she didn’t leave. and he tried to explain.

he needs her but he doesn’t know how to have her as a true friend. ‘i dunno how to talk to a girl if i don’t wanna date them. i uh, maybe, don’t really know how to talk to someone as myself. as a friend. sorry.’

‘well i don’t know how to talk to jocks so. same boat.’ and she has this glint in her eye. like she knows. and it’s okay.

because robin, she made it simple. she makes it easy. she says just ask and she’ll be honest and give him a yes or no. she’ll say if she can’t be touched right now, or if the movie he chose is pissing her the fuck off. and she wants the same from him. if the music is too loud, if she needs to let him not speak for a while. wants him honest and present and real. real friends. someone close. finally.

it’s rocky at first. she’s honest and he’s not used to it. it feel like criticism more often than not. makes him see red and lash out, like he was never able to with his parents. but he apologises and she stays. and he’s learning; that’s it’s okay, he’s not perfect and that means she’s knowing the real him. and she’s still his best friend even if he has to tell her to stop picking her nail polish off around him because it makes him want to die. and she laughs at him the first time she sees him in real recovery mode; hair not styled and he has on the only sweatshirt that ever feels good when he’s like this.

they lay on the floor in darkness and silence. it’s perfect. they share a tin of soup and a grilled cheese. it’s perfect.

being around robin as much as he is, its so new, having someone see so many parts of you. sometimes she laughs at him asking steve ‘why’d your voice change?’ but steve didn’t even know it had. he was, he was just talking to someone else quick, being nice like you’re supposed to, attentive to make them feel good. he didn’t know his voice changed that much.

‘girls would like you more if you talked normal to them. how you do to me.’

steve swallowed thickly. he just. he just doesn’t know that thats true. nancy left, he talked to her about lots of things, too many things. she like him better at the start. before some of his black tar innards spilled out. before he freaked. before he was able to paste himself back together and she saw him for what he really is.

he thinks of his parents. how they don’t know him and still don’t like him. anxiety prickles at his fingertips at the thought of those times they do come home.

because with them there the routine he’s carved for himself, those quiet moments of darkness that he so craves. they’re gone. now it’s tv static and plates clanging and having to show his face at dinner again. but he’s not ten anymore. now he’s an adult whose still drowning in the tension of the room, never able to say what’s really going on, never allowed to ask how they really feel, never taught how to figure his feeling out. no listening ear for steve as a child, and the ice only grew thicker with time.

it’s his skin itching at his mother stirring her tea across the house, spoon agains porcelain. it’s the hair on the back of his neck standing up at the sound of ice clinking in his fathers scotch glass. it’s triggered memories playing over and over again. it’s being plagued, by ghosts who haunt him, who left but come back every so often, like poltergeists. polietgists with the deed to the house, and ownership over steve, through blood and fear alone.

‘when they get back you come to mine steve yeah? you come home.’

because now theres not just robin. there’s eddie.

he sees everything. and more. even when steve’s trying to hide. eddie sees.

he noticed steve squinting at the hospital and asked the nurse to turn the lights down. he saw how he started zoning out at a diner with the kids, their arguing reaching a pitch, asked steve to keep him company for a smoke break. once they were outside eddie said he just needed a moment, ‘those kids can be animals’. said it and looked a him like he didn’t need an answer, let steve just breathe a focus on the sound of the wind.

it’s like there’s a million tiny moments, a million tiny cracks in him forming the more he’s around eddie. like his soft underbelly is mewling any time he’s around, wanting attention, wanting to let eddie see. let eddie touch.

eddie used to look at him sometimes, across the lunch hall. stare at him with an expression steve couldn’t really make sense of. he used to think it was judgment, annoyance. now he wonders if that face was confusion or interest. maybe eddie’s always been trying to figure steve out.

once it starts. them. eddie’s everywhere. more somehow, maybe, than robin because, you know, they go there. but it’s different, from those time, with those girls. instead now he’s there and his brains off and on in a, like, magical way. a new way that makes him feel whole and, and beautiful.

this thing they have. it’s fragile. it’s not perfect. he messes up, takes him a moment to grasp how eddie can be so so himself, always, no matter what. especially when it causes him problems. ‘why not just try and fit in?’ but the stone faced reply told steve that was the wrong thing to say, he didn’t get it but he needed to respect it. respect eddie and his choices. ‘i’m not like you steve, even if my brain shit was all gone i’d still be poor, i’d still be othered. still be a gay weirdo little freak.’

and steve is trying to get it. he’s learning to recognise that it’s sadness and confusion in eddie’s eyes when he visits him at work, knowing steve is having a bad day and watching him pretend. watching that mask form thick and fast, hiding the real him, protecting but also keeping everyone far far away. steve thinks maybe they’re living parallels. finding different ways to survive. neither better, neither worse. both far from perfect.

then that pinched sadness in eddie’s eyes. watching steve pretend. cover up. that damn breaks eventually. eddie sees all of him and more. those bits he always kept locked inside. between he and himself. it all comes spilling out.

they were supposed to be going out soon. but eddie wasn’t feeling it anymore ‘let’s just stay here, be cozy a little longer. what do you say, sweetheart?’ it does sound nice. steves so tired. but they decided. they had a plan.

‘we said we would. and i have to buy that thing eddie. we had a plan. and i have to go to work later, so we have to do it before. like we said and then i have to work eddie.’ and before he knows it there’s tears prickling his eyes and the ceiling fan is so loud and the desk lamp is too bright and he smacks a fist to the top of his head and it hurts a little but he’s so frustrated and so overwhelmed and so confused and embarrassed, suddenly. and he can’t breath. why can’t he breath? they had a plan.

they were supposed to go see hopper and pick something up and he has to talk to him and ask about the game because he needs hopper to like him because it’s better when el can come when all the kids hangout. it’s important that she’s happy so hopper needs to trust steve so steve was going to talk to him today and pick something up. it was the plan. hopper makes him nervous but that was the plan. and then he had to go to work. but now he can’t breathe and he feels like he needs something to hurt.

‘but he already trusts you with el stevie. hop trusts you with anything.’

‘i can’t know that. not for sure. when i talk to him it needs to be perfect.’ steve paces. a pinch at his arm. a tug at his hair. pivot. pace. repeat.

‘i heard what he said to you steve, on your birthday, he was calling you son all day. you don’t need to prove anything to him.’

‘i do eddie! you don’t understand. people, they lie. adults lie. they don’t say things the way they mean. i can’t fuck up talking to him. not like i always fuck up talking to my parents. i need to do it better. do it differently. because everyone always leaves. and i just don’t want to be alone again.’ and the tears really start to fall and steve can barely breath and he’s so embarrassed. shaking hands try and cover his face but the tears slip through.

and all he can think about is the plan. going to work. his vest hanging by the door. the way the plastic tapes feel in his hands. the smell of the bleach they mop the back room with. the day stretches before him. so many things in the way. so much anxiety still to come. if he can’t start, it can’t end. he gnaws at his lip. thumps a hand to his chest, trying to breath right, trying to ground.

‘i have to go to work’ he mutters. like a prayer. speak it in to happening. taking him away from the now. thump thump thump at his chest. ear ringing.

eddie’s holding his arms out, giving steve the option. he speaks so calmly, so earnest. ‘you can’t go to work steve. not like this baby.’

steve rounds on him. angry. when did everything get so messed up? if he was just left alone. he should’ve stayed on his own. ‘i cant just call in sick eddie! i’m not sick and and i hate the way they’ll sound when i say it over the phone and knowing what they’ll be thinking about me. they’ll know i hate the job and think i’m lazy and realise how stupid and useless i am and fire me. i can’t afford to get fired eddie. i’d rather just go in.’ he know it comes out garbled, his cheeks on fire.

‘i’m not letting you go in steve. i’ll sort it. i’ll go pick up robin before and she’ll cover for you, she’ll explain. and she would never. ever think that of you.’ eddie’s voice dropped octave. he speaks clearly and plainly and finally there’s a new plan to follow. a new rule for the day.

and all steve can do is curl up in a ball and sob. curl up in a ball against eddie chest, in his arms, squeezing his t-shirt between his fingers. clenching his muscles tight, his teeth grinding together. grunting out some of the decade old scream, still stuck there but more visible to him now.

until finally finally, he relaxes. spent and exhausted. too afraid to open his eyes and face the lamplight, face what could be in eddie’s expression. he drifts..

eventually he gets up, blows his nose and splashed water on his face, turns off all the lights and get back under the warm blanket. fills his lungs. sighs. whispers, ‘m’sorry’

‘don’t say that. there’s nothing to apologise for’ eddie’s so close, so warm.

‘no one’s supposed to ever, see that.. it’s okay if you want to leave’

‘steve. why the fuck would i leave you right now?’

‘who’d wanna date someone who acts like that? it’s. it’s not good eddie. but, but it’s okay. i’m used to being alo-.’

‘please stop stevie. your breaking my heart here. i want to stay, i want to be here with you. i really really like you steve.’ and steve’s cheeks feel wet again. he feels flayed open and young, like a little kid who fell off the swings and everything is different suddenly.

later later when eddie picks robin up from work she stalks in to where steve’s wrapped up on the couch. curls up into his side and exhales. she bites into his bicep. huffing a sad, annoyed little ‘dingus’ before grabbing his hand and fiddling with his fingers.

steve feels his eyes prickle again. looking up at the ceiling he croaks out a small ‘sorry.’ for the day. for everything. for anything he can be. and everything he can’t.

robin kneels on the sofa right next to him. growling a little and placing one of her hands at his sternum and the other at the same height on his back. like she’s forcing herself inside him, holding him together. her hands start to rub up and down quickly, frenzied and grounding for both of them. steve let’s his head hang. eyes closing at the sensation. he grunts. robin grunts back.

eddie joins. sitting at his other side. slipping a hand in steve’s hair, soothing his scalp with long scratching fingers. and steve humms, sighs, keens. eyes closed he drifts but not away from his body, instead into it. with gratitude, and warmth. at the centre of the two best things that ever happened to him. willing to try again. be just, better. never perfect.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

pt 3 snippet

a little happier for u @pearynice <3

ty @spectrum-spectre @vampyreddiemunson @fangirlycupcake @grandwretch for ur tags and additions, it was very inspiring

and tags for lovely @irethsune @willim-billiam-byerson @2jug2head

#hope this is okay #i know the comfort isn't like loads but #unmasking is fucking hard #and hes simply doing his best #autistic steve harrington #steddie #platonic stobin #hotlunch #my fic #steve harrington needs a hug #but he gets one so its okay #feel nervous about posting this but let’s fucking go my dudes #pls let me know if u like it 👉👈

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aceofpatience · 9 months

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🌟Your Next Significant One -> Pick-a-Pile reading🌟

I'm looking into both your and their energy, your first impressions of each other as well as the relationship itself.🤍 It's VERY specific. And kina long. Heh.💀 Tell if anything resonated! Take a deep breath, meditate and dive right into your reading! Shall we SEA?🐚

PILE 1 -> Lapis lazuli

Energy of pile 1: Hurricane. You managed win despite everything. You overcome any difficulties thanks to your own inner strength and healing energy. I’m thinking that others may have given up on you or at least didn’t truly believe that you would succeed on your own. They might have show support but only after you won in this situation, did they feel actual respect for you. You are or you soon will be in the position of power. You have the ability to help others, but your biggest strength is how you can soothe yourself in any circumstances. It’s like you have your own inner healer/therapist, ha.

Energy of your person: You knew they were the one the moment you saw them. It’s like you’re connected by some spiritual link. There is no other option for you. You will just know. They may be hurting even if they don’t acknowledge that - it’s like they’re constantly in a hurry, always busy with something. A bit of a workaholic maybe? I think they might not even know what exactly they are lacking in life, so that’s why they are always chasing (after another win). Somebody hurt them in the past (I’m getting the vibe of a childhood friend), yet they still decide to put their trust in people. So loyal. And very down to earth. They are rational - there is a lot of on their mind all the time. Also they may have a loud inner child, who needs some attention.

Who are they -> Work/study/responsibilities: I think it’s something sport-related. For sure it’s providing them with some public recognition or prestige. More so than the material gains, it brings them satisfaction. They want to show the world how strong and capable they are. Sometimes it’s like they are their own harshest critic, aiming to prove themselves to the world.

Goals: They want to show their victory was the result of their own hard work, not just a fluke. They wish for a sense of security that they cannot really find in their work/study-related environment - it’s like they cannot rest, they must keep fighting all over again in order to prove something, maybe their own capability or resilience.

Looks: Ravenclaw vibe. People might see them as a bit of a robot, but they just prefer to keep their distance from others. Strong features (nose, chin, jaw, cheek bones), yet very subtle facial expressions at the same time. It might be difficult to decipher what they’re thinking based on their body language. Their hands are important - maybe you will pay special attention to them. Rigid figure, always keeping their back straight (I’m feeling that what’s they were taught to do in youth). They have this natural pride about them (seen also in their posture), that some might mistake for arrogance, but it’s just them and how they carry themself.

Meeting -> Your POV: "Another love". You may meet them at a time when somebody extends an offer to you, some kind of helping hand. This will result in you gaining new independence (either financial or outside of your parents’ influence). It will be a time of new prosperity and abundance for you.

Their POV: They are ready to give their heart to you right away. You will meet at a moment, when they are discovering that their previous relationship (platonic or romantic) was kind of toxic - definitely not serving them, it doesn’t seem like they got any support in it. Now they want to move on, even if their heart is still healing. But what I can say for sure is that, it quickly becomes yours.

Romance -> How you see them: At first a bit like a sad robot (but a sexy one lol). They seem intimidating, closed off, cold and calculating; you might be a bit hesitant to talk to them. They appear to be very strict (maybe it will happen in a work environment or sth official). Because of how quickly you will feel this attraction and the feeling of vulnerability it brings, you will be afraid of them hurting you. However it’s certain there won’t be any problems in the „professional” sphere - you may make a good team. Only you can see through their armor, and discover the hidden warmth and a kind of a childlike innocence to them. This unseen side of them is what is intuitively pulling you towards them, in spite of other people’s reservations about this connection. But their true feelings are obvious, you see them beyond the walls that they’ve build.

How they see you: They like a moth that is enchanted by your light. Your harmony and stability (and for some also self-confidence). You for sure don’t pretend who you are, and they love it. You’re kindred spirits - you are the definition of a family for them.

Relationship -> White bull (it might be your symbol idk). Also the number 3. The Cupid arrow. Your feelings are evolving quickly, there is no control over them. You change their worldview - and maybe they change yours. Since the first conversation it’s over - you know they are the one for you and vice versa. The strength of you bond might frighten you for a minute, but it will eventually lead you to your greatest victory. You both are perfectly balanced together and I think your inner children will understand each other greatly (trauma bonding hue hue). And one of you will be great at dirty talk or just super smooth.

PILE 2 -> Green Aventurine

Energy of pile 2: You are trying to find yourselves - either by trying out new hobbies and activities or by constantly seeking change. You are mastering your abilities, honing them to perfection. You might have a lot of different talents, and I have a feeling that no matter what you touch it somehow always ends in success. You lucky bastards heh. For some of you - you might have left your family house behind or cut contact with your relatives, but I’m feeling you will eventually reconnect with them. You give off strong fire and air placement energy. Or those signs might be important to you in some way.

Energy of your person: Consciously or not, they feel responsible for others. This constantly evolving energy of yours is what’s really alluring to them. They themself have a sort of fluid energy, experiencing transformations of their own. But despite all that, they are quite stable and somebody that people can rely on. All their changes might be mostly superficial, like changing up their appearance or style from time to time. They might have a tendency to mirror those around them, but inside they remain the same. Grounded, Earth placement energy. Also BIG romantic vibes off of them, but I will elaborate on this later. For some of you, you might have known them before, but haven’t thought of this person in years before this meeting. And all the memories attached to them suddenly resurfaced.

Who are they -> Work/education: Rather stable line of work, that has a lot to do with them sitting by the desk. It’s a routine, but a rather pleasing one. They work or study alone, maybe sth with a computer. It might not be something they dreamed of spending a majority of their time doing, but it keeps the „money” coming lol. It’s just something that they recognize as a normal responsibility for themself. They can’t really see any other options, so for now it’s the most suitable alternative for them.

Goals: They wish to have more time for themselves, so that they could finally focus on all the small everyday pleasures - ones that usually had to stay in the background. They truly yearn for a true romantic love, but deep inside they might fear they will never find it.

Looks: Really pretty/handsome overall. They take good care of themselves, both in term of health and looks. So they may have a daily skin-care routine. PEARLS. This is either an important symbol for them, or it can mean that they like to wear jewelry, have some significant tattoos or wear makeup? I feel they might often change their appearance, for example by dying their hair or mixing up their outfits. For some of you, and take it as it resonates, they might wear a green scarf or some other piece of clothing in that clothing lol. And their shoulders are hot.

Meeting -> Your POV: „Devil Doesn’t Bargain". A lot is going to be happening in your life at the moment of your meeting. You may have just ended a relationship of your own but idk. You are trying to get out of some situation you don’t like. It’s not even necessary a bad or a difficult situation, but one that you intuitively feel isn’t right for you (work/love/study idk). For some of you it might entail some sort of sacrifice, that you may „use” people around you to get your way? But it sounds more dire than it will actually be lol. I also see that during this transition period, you again will be perfecting some skill. You chose to leave behind that former stagnant situation, and on your way out you completely destroyed the status quo. Maybe it was some kind of a group project, that might have ended in conflict. Bottom line is, you will be pretty occupied with all that „drama”, you won’t really be looking for any romance at the moment. So at first, you won’t recognize THAT person as someone significant to you.

Their POV: „Cardigan”!! They will be lonely. Very much so, but out of their own choosing - they are waiting for love, for the right person. Maybe it will be work that brings you two together, teamwork maybe? Or you both will be leaving your studies/job environments at a similar time when you meet.

Romance -> How you see them: At first you might see them as a rival, a competition to your authority in the group. I have a feeling you like to be in the centre, therefore this person stealing your spotlight might unconsciously trigger you. You may have seen some quality in them, that you yourself wished you had. But this irritation will last only for a short moment. You will quickly realize that you both can benefit out of having a good professional relationship with each other and them quickly discover that you actually make a good team. Then comes the chemistry of course, and the rest you can probably figure out, heh.

How they see you: Instant attraction, they feel something pulling them towards you. It like they recognize an old friend in you, someone familiar. They admire you, seriously. There are no slimy intentions on their part, they genuinely respect your position in the group, as well as YOU yourself. They are givers, they just wish to show you how devoted they are to you. And they might commit quite quickly to this relationship. Before they were looking for a place to belong and with you they finally feel like they found it. Seriously, they are really sweet. They are putting your connection first and foremost. They are probably not very vocal about that, but the feelings are very much real and intense xd.

Relationship -> 22. Intimacy. At first you might be hiding that you two are a couple, so maybe some workplace romance?I also feel that before making things „official” you two might fantasize about each other a LOT. But you will get together pretty quickly. The attraction and sexual tension is HIGHH. I feel that you guys might change up who the „dominant” party is often, as in interchanging who leads the other. You will encourage and inspire each other equally, true power couple vibes (world domination!!). When one of you experiences change, the other is able to keep up with them. Some of your friends might view your relationship as slightly „toxic” or „codependent”, but it’s only because you are stronger and more powerful together than you are by yourselves. You both have this kind of wildness in your hearts, full of ambition and hunger - one that you acknowledge, accept and love about each other.

PILE 3 -> Tiger Eye

Energy of pile 3: Hats. You have ambition and energy that is hard to focus or direct in one particular way. You are a family person, I think you might have a lot of relatives - and you can rely on them. For some of you, I see some kind of heritage coming into your surroundings. It looks like your life is put together pretty well, you have things that occupy your time(your work/studies/passion projects) and you seem to always expect quite a lot form yourselves. You may be feeling overworked, but there is still something bright and joyful about your energy. There might be something charming about your attitude, that makes people enjoy being in your presence. I have a strong feeling that you got some really special quirks (for some of you, I repeat: collecting hats!), but people around you might perceive it as something cute or funny. (Little they know how deep your weirdness goes). I’m getting the earth and fire energy (Aries or Sagittarius). Othala rune.

Energy of your person: It’s giving strong female vibes - the energy of creation, fluidity - you can never tell what is underneath. Artistic soul (music or sketching, but signing also may be significant here). I’m getting an Ophelia vibe - but without all the tragedy lol. They have a lot of possibilities before them. They are true dreamers and heave a strong, spiritual personality. They might seem less organized than you, they don’t really do plans, but still - everything is going smoothly for them. It’s like someone is watching over their chaotic asses lol. The energy of cats - your person is a very independent and unconventional creature, that’s why others may either love or hate them. For some of you: the sakura blossom flower may be their signature scent or symbol (a tattoo probably?). Algiz and laguz rune.

Who are they -> Work/study/anything more official: „Go your own way”. I think they are starting a new project or something like that. And they know they will succeed - their confidence may be slightly excessive given the situation, but still. They’re right. They are just great. Maybe singing is their hobby and something they’re pursuing.

Goals: They would like to be more rational, more down to earth (I think it’s something they are always repeating as their new year resolutions, while holding their new journal or calendar. Spoiler: it never works out, heh).

Looks: Longer hair, strong eyebrows. Something about them seems untamed and wild - for example hair, pointy ears or longer canines). Powerful, enchanting voice or laugh. For some of you: icy shades of hair or, on the contrary, burning fire red.

Meeting -> Your POV: You might find yourself in the situation in which your hobby, quirks will be in the foreground (…The second-hand shop with hats?? Just thing about it…) When you get to meet your person, you will be far from home, your family and friends - new town, moving houses or simply a vacation? It will be your me-time, for sure. You both will meet either by some dating app or your mutual colleagues will set you up for some kind of a blind date. I feel you will have many options in the realm of dating, and your person will be one of them - but from the very second you know them, everyone else will fade in comparison.

Their POV: „Sky Full Of Songs”. They didn’t look for a relationship (like I said, they don’t often do planning of any kind and just go with the flow). But the moment they meet you, they will just have to know you and „win” you. Claim you. (And one of you will give the other sunflowers). Your first (blind?) date will be just perfect. You don’t have to fear there being any awkwardness or uncomfortable silence. You will just get along. A lot of talking, laughing and shared heated glances - that’s what I see for you, pile numer 3. Falling in love.

Romance -> How you will see them: You will see a confident, strong, ethereal person. Beautiful in unconventional way - seductive like a nymph or some demigod. But there won’t be anything intimidating about them, you will connect easily. They just have this inner warmth, which you will adore. They will be funny and full of life (energy of a bubbly sunshine, I would say). You two won’t be able to stop talking. You will be attracted so much to their natural way of being.

How they see you: They will find your strength irresistible. It’s like you are the shoulder they can rest on their head on. A very sexy shoulder. Hah. You give them a sense of security and a safe space - they know you would never judge them. They won’t waste any time and will give you their heart in no time. Also they intuitively notice all the „wounded” parts of you that you keep hidden from most, and will love and cherish them. I think they are going to admire your more strict and rational side of personality. (Yes, big sir energy lol). And your quirks? They’re gonna see them as important and will love them as much as you do.

Relationship -> Everything just great, nothing to add. Your energies are made for each other. Communication is your shit, you rule at this. The chemistry? Wow, dude. High af.

#tarot #tarot reading #tarot witch #tarot cards #love reading #relationship #intuitive #romance #crystals #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card #love

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royalarchivist · 1 month

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Quackity: This project is not over and I’ll do everything necessary to strengthen it day by day. It is a process. Step by step, and it will take time. But I’m taking care of it. [...] I have a personal conviction with this project and I’ll keep working to improve it.

This video is also available on Quackity's VOD YouTube channel, and will include English translations very soon. Please take a moment to read through the transcript of his stream in the meantime; I think it will help a lot of people feel a little bit better.

Translations provided by @QuackitySubs.

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

—

Quackity: I turned on stream to give an announcement regarding what’s happening with the QSMP structure. I know there’s people with many doubts about lots of things so I hope this helps you all understand a little bit more. I’ll be saying all of this in Spanish because I find it easier to express myself in it since it’s my first language. I wanted to make that clear.

I want to give, and explain, a little bit of the context of everything, ok? These past three weeks have been very turbulent regarding many aspects. The restructuring process that’s going on for the project has not been easy at all. Before I involved myself, and I said it before, there was people who damaged the project in very harmful ways, administrative and financially wise. I addressed this before. But I haven’t given any updates or anything of that nature because the only updates I’ve had are all inner and of legal matter. Therefore, there are no visible changes, but they’re important ones that need to be done.

I’m telling you: people with ill intent have been removed from the project, and I’m still in the process with people that have caused a lot of this harm since the beginning. That has been one of the main focuses of this restructuring that’s being carried out. Guys, I want to make something very clear: during this process, the actions that are being made have to be done with extreme care.

Recently, I’ve wanted to give many updates both inside and outside, but we’re facing a very critical issue that’s leaked information. I don’t know if the people who leaked information and announcements from the inside knew this was going on. But when I gave inside information and it leaked where it shouldn’t have; that affected the process that was needed to take care of many things. And the people who affected me administratively and financially, which I already talked about in a past stream, found out about matters that they shouldn’t have known about and used this information to twist it and affect the process. This complicated to a great extent many things. This is why I haven’t given any announcements. This is why I’m not able to talk freely as much I’d like to, and I’m not ignoring or evading but a very, very delicate process is being carried out.

Since the beginning it was known, within my involvement, that to achieve a complete change we had to start with the people who affected me, the project, and that were the cause of many issues that have been going on this whole year. With that being said, what happened was we started looking for a financial strategy for the project because the costs are very high. The project was going to shut down, I already talked about this. And as soon as I could define through different strategies, if there was a way to support the project, the next step was going to reestablish the many QSMP parts that did not longer exist. And I want to make something very clear; given the financial circumstances of the server, I did not want to make anybody a promise that not even I knew could be fulfilled. For this reason, this element was still present- the financial element, and I could not give any more inner updates because I was working on a very important part of the financial element of the server.

It is my understanding that the lack of communication has been notorious, and I reiterate, it’s not on purpose. There are many matters behind the scenes that I’ve been meaning to address, but I’ve had to be very, very careful. I understand if there are people who do not agree with the approach of the process, and if you don’t trust the project neither the process that’s being carried out, don’t worry. I don’t have an issue if you stop consuming the project. I understand that completely. I said I had a personal conviction with the project and it will stay that way.

I’ve been working arduously, and I’m going to do everything in my power for the project to continue but with the best conditions possible, and something I want to make very clear is that this process takes time. That is something I want to make very clear. This process takes time.

Guys, there’s people who have parted ways with the project and that will continue leaving on their own will and I understand that fully. I don’t have a problem with whoever took or will take this decision and I wish them the absolute best. In fact, I made an inner announcement where I let them know that a restructure would take time to be implemented. And there’s people that, for reasons, no longer want to be a part of this project, and I completely understand it because it’s not easy to be in adjustment stages, so I understand. Something I announced from the beginning was that my main goal would be that the project would go back to normal, but with the best conditions possible. This can be achieved following the right dynamics and the right setting for every person contributing to the project and this cannot be done within three weeks. This entire process continues.

Having given a little bit of context behind many aspects regarding the project, I ask of everyone that would like to stay, their utmost patient. I don’t want to make any promises and I don’t want to sugarcoat it. I want to make concrete actions. And that’s what I’ve been doing, whether you can see it or not, that’s what I’ve been doing step by step.

Guys, the changes that I’m doing are in the project’s best interest and I’ll say this openly: These changes are in the project’s best interest and for the people who love it, people who have been impacted by it, people who follow and love what this project means. These people are my motivation and the inspiration for which I started the project, for which I’m still doing the project and for which I’ll keep doing the QSMP. I am not doing this, and I want to make it very clear, I am not doing this for the people who, for a very long time, want to see the project torn down through efforts that show the complete opposite of having love for the project. Be it non-constructive comments, malicious actions, ill intentions wishes upon me, the team, and any community that consumes the QSMP, and the project in general. To me, that all of these ill-intentioned people stop consuming the project does not bother me in the slightest. I want that very, very clear.

Guys, let’s not forget about something very important: it is very difficult to build something but it very easy to destroy it. To everyone who would like to join us in this building process, you’re welcome. For those who seek to destroy it maliciously… this project, since the beginning, wasn’t and it is not made for you.

Lastly, I’d like to say that these past days I’ve been getting many calls, emails and messages from people all around the world expressing what QSMP means for them. This is why, and I’m saying it as it is, this project is not over and I’ll do everything necessary to strengthen it day by day. It is a process. Step by step, and it will take time. But I’m taking care of it.

I want to thank everyone for putting their trust in me beforehand, and I reiterate my personal commitment to strengthen this project. I hope this clarified some doubts and gave context that to many people it was necessary. I reiterate, I have a personal conviction with this project and I’ll keep working to improve it.

#QSMP #Quackity #March 21 2024 #Admingate #QSMP Admins #He said a lot of things I kinda already assumed #but still nice to hear it again #I feel bad for him though man :(#Like yeah I'm not super jazzed about some of the things that happened and I feel bad for the admins #but I feel bad for Quackity too.#also he should NOT have to explain why he's speaking Spanish #It's so rude and very privileged (and racist tbh) for people to complain that he's not doing it in English #Anyways back to business #There were a few errors in the transcript which I fixed #one case of a wrong word being used and a few words spelled incorrectly but that's all I changed #the rest is directly from QuackitySubs

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punkpandapatrixk · 9 months

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🌓Sweet Girl Venus ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

This world contains in it a great number of elements that push most everyone to toughen up and abandon all senses of calm, grace and loveliness on the path towards growing up. In this world, so many people believe that the only way towards great achievements is by becoming tough. Whilst it is true that strength of character is crucial for survival, I don’t think toughness has to translate into being actually hard on oneself or everyone else.

Psychology says, ‘When someone is exceedingly critical of the smallest, most trivial things, that means they crave Love most of all.’

Here is a love letter from the Venusian Goddess harmonic of your Higher Self to yourself💌More than you may realise at this moment, you really are still a sweet and kind baby of gentle melodies and fragrant bouquet💐If you’d eventually realise this of yourself wholeheartedly, oh, that would be…

♥︎

SONG: teddy bear by Hamasaki Ayumi

MOVIE: Uptown Girls (2003)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Bubblegum Blue Baby

VIBE: Hatsukoi Shoujo (Singer’s First Love) by Sheena Ringo & Noir by SUNMI

what’s really sweet about you – King of Wands Rx

You’re the type of person who, in spite of your passion and determination, aren’t cruel. You possess a strong character and try to uphold justice everywhere you go. You’re really a courageous fellow with a heart of gold. Baby-blue gold. I see that you’re often the type of friend who cheers other people up; you always have an idea in your mind to make someone else feels better about their darker days. When somebody is lacking courage or confidence in themselves, you’re the one who says, ‘I believe in you, tho! It’s clear to ME you can do it!’

And because you always seem so energetic, confident and capable, people easily believe your words. I think people haven’t told you enough how grateful they are that you’re always cheering them on like that. It’s not that they’re not grateful; it’s that they don’t know how to convey their gratitude properly. You know, sometimes words fail us. Especially when you’re the type of magickal butterfly that attracts naturally a lot of people who are not so confident in themselves. Such people, sometimes they simply don’t know how to utter words of gratitude because not many people in their lives have shown them enough appreciation. You could be, probably, like the ONLY person in their world who shows them appreciation like that!

You’re really so kind and charitable, more than you’ll ever hear from the mouths of other people♥︎

honouring your softness – King of Cups

And I guess, for the most part, such people really see that you’re an authoritative figure in your own respect. Because you appear to them so large and magnanimous, people don’t even suspect that you also have your down days. Certain days, you’re also in the mood for getting praises just like everybody else! But because you don’t get that as much as you’d like, sometimes you get sad. I think you struggle with a little self-loathing (or a sense of being a phoney) every now and then, feeling like you’re not good enough whilst everybody else seems to move ever forward, supported by your encouraging words.

Sometimes you feel envious of others for what they have. They seem to have everything going on a lot easier than you. But baby, stop! This is all your wild assumption. The truth is, people really be trying their best to put up a strong face, to put their best foot forward and come and tell you good news about them, because they want to get praises from you😅Yeah, some things in Life really be tricky like that. As convoluted it gets, this is actually their way of thanking you. You encouraged them before, you gave them so much courage, inspiration and motivation; now they’re doing better and they want to let you know it’s thanks to you! They want you to feel proud of both themselves and the magnanimous ways you’ve cared for them🥲

Well, now that you know… Pretty baby, stop being so sad!🐬

a happily ever after – 7 of Cups

You’re the type of person who, most of the time, has your head in the clouds. This makes you feel ungrounded often. I think you sometimes feel overwhelmed by reality itself. There’s a lot of things you don’t understand and you often feel lost about the meaning of existence and your place in the world. Fret not—you’re hardly a failure. You’re magick, baby💙Magickal beings often find living in the Human world incredibly taxing, so you can be patient with yourself—it’s a group thing LMAO

If anything, it is exactly because you’re a magical being like this that you can be sure you’re going to get everything you want out of Life. As long as you don’t allow yourself to stop dreaming in exchange for being practical! You see, the world really isn’t as linear as you think. So, be confident in who you are and your own personal favourite methods of manifesting. There’s quite nothing in this world you can’t have. You just need to learn to focus on one or two things at a time so you get each thing you want faster⚡️Isn’t so wonderful to be so magickal?

Know that you could be so much happier. You could be so much more spiritually content because your heart really is good. In spite of some things you may believe about your flaws, your Higher Self really doesn’t view you that way. In this world that is a world of chaos where 98% of people are hurting and hurting each other, it’s expected, so it’s not such a big deal. You really are such a kind Soul and your sweetness, your charitable bubbliness, just needs your acknowledgement so you can give yourself more tender care🌸

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻💙

quantum glow-up! – Silver Physician (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Magick

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Soft Enterprising Boss

VIBE: Cookie by NewJeans & YEPPI YEPPI by aespa

what’s really sweet about you – Ace of Pentacles

You are a powerhouse of creativity. You’re incredibly smart and resourceful. You’re like an idea bank but you couple that with real, tangible efforts that always produce real results. You have an amazing capability for laser focus and your work ethic is almost inimitable. With that, you’re truly a dependable friend who has a lot to offer those around you. People turn to you for advice, and you always have something valuable to offer. But yeah… that doesn’t mean your input is always appreciated. But that’s not your fault, right?

You need to admit that a lot of people are hopelessly confused. Sometimes, people simply want a friend to confide in and hear their whining. I know you’re almost always there to lend an ear even though it kinda irritates you that people seem so lost, so incapable of helping themselves. You genuinely want to help, but like already mentioned, sometimes all someone needs is a company that listens compassionately. I think you’re good as long as you’re there to be a pillar for someone in need.

So really, you needn’t concern yourself with how that someone will resolve their issues if they, indeed, do not seem that interested in resolving their own issues🤪It’s not like you’re getting paid for caring so much about other people’s personal drama!

honouring your softness – 2 of Pentacles

More than you give yourself credit for, you’re actually a really reasonable person. You’re grounded in reality and able to weigh options more realistically than most people you know. You’re always thinking of pros and cons in your head. That’s wonderfully responsible, of course, but sometimes you could get stuck in a rut when you simply can’t decide. Still, I think you’re such a wonderfully capable person who’s willing to go the distance when your mind’s finally set for a prize.

You’re ambitious and tenacious; no matter the challenge, you’re up for whatever. If it requires lessons, training, complex practices, extensive readings, you can do it all. But hey, stop to breathe a little, will you? The world doesn’t end tomorrow so you needn’t hurry so much, alright? It benefits no one to be so hard on yourself whatever the rewards may be at the end. What’s really exciting about this whole thing is how much you’re enjoying yourself as you gain knowledge and skills. So, I hope you remember this at all times.

As long as you’re having fun, Life’s good, you know. You can’t possibly think that Life’s only gonna get good when you’re at the end of your journey, right?

a happily ever after – 8 of Wands

You are a visionary—admit it. You have amazing ideas and your visions could possibly even change the world. You could become someone profoundly inspirational because there’s a teacher-like quality in you. If you feel that you’re not that good at communicating your ideas, it’s definitely a skill you can polish. You really have got it in you to become an effective speaker, even on a public platform, because your mind is usually quite methodical. Practice is all you need.

Even if you identify as someone shy, or timid, actually you will be so much happier in Life if you could be in the public eye for when you do so, you get to be charitable with your skills and knowledge. When you’re older in Life, you will have gained so much expertise in various disciplines, and if you’re not gonna share with others, how else are you gonna ever feel blessed?

You are a shooting star sent from Mars—or Venus—to teach Humanity a transcendent way of living. I hope you never forget how precious you are just for the fact you’ve reincarnated on Earth in this passage of time😜

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻🧡

quantum glow-up! – Green Magus (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Fertility

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – New-World Inventor

VIBE: Super Shy by NewJeans & Spicy by aespa

what’s really sweet about you – 4 of Cups

Gosh, you are such a loyal one that sometimes it comes to your detriment. You’re the type of person who could go the extra mile to accompany someone who doesn’t even deserve your compassion. You’re willing to sacrifice a lot to make another person feels less alone even when you’re not getting the same in return. I think you have a noble heart and that’s something clearly valuable. But… I hope you know when to stop giving your support to those who are clearly losers, hopeless cases. There’s only so much you could give to another when your own Cups aren’t getting filled in return.

‘People treat you the way they view you. Be blind if you want.’

I know you don’t want to disappoint because you know how depressing it is to get disappointed. You know first hand all the painful sensations that come with having your trust broken. But the way I see it, you shouldn’t turn your past disappointments into a goody two shoes tendency to please everybody. Are you certain this isn’t just a weird overcompensation that could destroy you in the end? You may wanna check out this concept of a Good Girl Syndrome. Understanding the symptoms could just help you unravel the patterns🧵🪡✂️

honouring your softness – Queen of Pentacles

You are an Old Soul, and it doesn’t matter how young or old you are right now, you have this innate desire to be of service to others. On a profound Soul level, you have this magnanimous energy that makes you want to care and nourish those you come into contact with. You are really a kind person, incredibly generous, to a fault LMAO After all, this Human world is littered with shameless takers who do not set a limit for themselves. You don’t wanna be stupid enough to get drained all the time by ingrates, right?

So, it’s time to stop giving too much of yourself and start affirming that you, too, deserve the company of people who will nourish you as much as you them. If you don’t start reaffirming this daily, it may never manifest, which would be such a shame because you’re so deserving to be blessed with warmth and sweet emotions🥧

a happily ever after – Page of Swords Rx

At the present moment, you may be thinking you’re simply afraid of conflicts and arguments. Heck, you don’t even like feeling other people’s negative emotions. If you were to stand up for yourself, you’re sure everybody would give you a nasty look, or even spew very unkind words to make you feel bad. So you know this and you try to avoid that as much as possible. But that’s got to stop now because when you really think about it, all the chaos and conflicts are WITHIN you. Is that even worth it? Do you think you deserve to live like this?

‘You’re keeping the peace around you, but what about the peace in you?’

I’d like to remind you, you’re really such a smart person. You’re so knowledgeable and actually, if you’re honest, have great desires to be of service to the world. You’re a high-value somebody, so you’re allowed to muster the courage to affirm that you CAN take up space and still maintain your boundaries. Alright? One day you’re going to really change the world. But right now, you need to change your world first.

Don’t be afraid of being seen as a bitch, especially when you know you’re not a bad person🍒Sweet girls can still be SPICY🌶

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻💗

quantum glow-up! – Gold Astronomer (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Innocence

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

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physalian · 21 days

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What No One Tells You About Writing #5

Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Shorter list this time, but longer points. I expect this one to be more divisive, but it is what it is, and this is what ‘no one tells you’ about writing, after all. This one’s all about feedback and how to take it, and give it.

1. Not everyone will like your book, no matter how good it is

I’ve said this before, granted, but sometimes you can have very arbitrary reasons for not liking an otherwise great story. For example: I refuse to watch Hamilton. Why? Because everyone I knew and their dog was trying to cram it down my throat when it came out and I still don’t really like musicals, and didn’t appreciate the bombardment of insisting I’ll like it simply because everyone else does. I’m sure it’s great! I’m just not watching it until I want to watch it.

It can be other reasons, too. I won’t read fanfic that’s written in first person, doesn’t matter how good it is. Someone might not watch a TV show because the primary cast is white or not-white. Someone might not watch a movie because an actor they despise is in it, even if the role is fantastic. Someone might not watch or read a story that’s too heavy on the romance, or not enough, or too explicit. I went looking for beta readers and came across one who wouldn’t touch a book where the romance came secondary in a sci-fi or fantasy novel. Kept on scrolling.

Someone can just think your side character is unfunny and doesn’t hear the same music as everyone else. Someone can just not like your writing style with either too much or not enough fluff, or too much personality in the main narrator. Or they have triggers that prevent them from enjoying it the way you intend.

How someone expresses that refusal is not your job to manage. You cannot force someone to like your work and pushing too hard will just make it worse. Some people just won’t like it, end of story.

2. Criticism takes a very long time to take well

Some people are just naturally better at taking constructive criticism, some have a thick skin, some just have a natural confidence that beats back whatever jabs the average reader or professional editor can give. If you’re like me, you might’ve physically struggled at first to actually read the feedback and insisted that your beta readers color-coded the positive from the negative.

It can be a very steep climb up the mountain until you reach a point where you know you’re good enough, and fully appreciate that it is actually “constructive” and anything that isn’t, isn’t worth your time.

The biggest hurdle I had to climb was this: A criticism of my work is not a criticism of me as a person.

Yes, my characters are built with pieces of my personality and worldview and dreams and ideals, but the people giving you feedback should be people who either already know you as a person and are just trying to help, or are people you pay to be unbiased and only focus on what’s on the page.

Some decisions, like a concerning moral of your story, is inadvertently a criticism of your own beliefs—like when I left feedback that anxiety can’t just be loved away and believing so is a flawed philosophy. I did that with intent to help, not because I thought the writer incompetent or that they wrote it in bad faith.

I’m sure it wasn’t a fun experience reading what I had to say, either. It’s not fun when I get told a character I love and lost sleep over getting right isn’t getting the same reception with my betas. But they’re all doing it (or at least they all should be doing it) from a place of just wanting to help, not to insult your writing ability. Even if your writing objectively sucks, you’re still doing a lot more just by putting words on paper than so many people who can’t bring themselves to even try.

As with all mediums subjects to critique, one need not be an author to still give valuable feedback. I’m not a screenwriter, but from an audience’s standpoint, I can tell you what I think works. Non-authors giving you pointers on the writing process? You can probably ignore that. Non-authors giving you pointers on how your character lands? Then, yeah, they might have an opinion worth considering.

3. Parsing out the “constructive” from the criticism isn’t easy

This goes for people giving it as well. Saying things like “this book sucks” is an obviously useless one. Saying “I didn’t like this story because it was confusing and uncompelling” is better. “I think this story was confusing and uncompelling because of X, and I have some suggestions here that I think can make it better.”

Now we’re talking.

Everyone’s writing style is different. Some writers like a lot of fluff and poetic prose to immerse you in the details and the setting, well beyond what you need to understand the scene or the plot. Their goal is to make this world come alive and help you picture the scene exactly the way they see it in their minds.

There’s writers who are very light on the sensory fluff and poetry, trying to give you the impression of what the scene should look and feel like and letting you fill in the missing pieces with your own vision.

Or there’s stories that take a long time to get anywhere, spending many pages on the small otherwise insignificant slice-of-life details as opposed to laser-precision on the plot, and those who trim off all the fat for a fast-paced rollercoaster.

None of these are inherently bad or wrong, but audiences do have their preferences.

The keyword in “constructive criticism” is “construct”. As in, your advice is useless if you can’t explain why you think an element needs work. “It’s just bad” isn’t helpful to anyone.

When trying to decide if feedback has merit, try to look at whatever the critic gives you and explain what they said to yourself in your own words. If you think changing the piece in question will enhance your story or better convey what you’re trying to say, it’s probably solid advice.

Sometimes you just have to throw the whole character out, or the whole scene, whole plot line and side quest. Figuring out what you can salvage just takes time, and practice.

4. Just when you think you’re done, there’s more

There’s a quote out there that may or may not belong to Da Vinci that goes “art is never finished, only abandoned.” Even when you think your book is as good as it can be, you can still sleep on it and second-guess yourself and wonder if something about it could have been done better or differently.

There is such a thing as too much editing.

But it also takes a long time to get there. Only 10-15% of writing is actually penning the story. The rest is editing, agonizing over editing, re-editing, and staring at the same few lines of dialogue that just aren't working to the point that you dream about your characters.

It can get demoralizing fast when you think you’ve fixed a scene, get the stamp of approval from one reader, only for the next one to come back with valid feedback neither of you considered before. So you fix it again. And then there’s another problem you didn’t consider. And then you’re juggling all these scene bits and moments you thought were perfect, only for it to keep collapsing.

It will get there. You will have a manuscript you’re proud of, even if it’s not the one you thought you were going to write. My newest book isn’t what I set out to write, but if I stuck to that original idea, I never would have let it become the work that it is.

5. “[Writing advice] is more like guidelines than actual rules.”

Personally, I think there’s very few universal, blanket pieces of writing advice that fit every book, no exceptions, no conditions, no questions asked. Aside from: Don’t sacrifice a clear story for what you think is cool, but horribly confusing.

For example, I’m American, but I like watching foreign films from time to time. The pacing and story structure of European films can break so many American rules it’s astonishing. Pacing? What pacing? It’s ~fancy~. It wants to hang on a shot of a random wall for fifteen seconds with no music and no point because it’s ~artsy~. Or there is no actual plot, or arc, it’s just following these characters around for 90 minutes while they do a thing. The entire movie is basically filler. Or the ending is deeply unsatisfying because the hoity-toity filmmaker believes in suffering for art or… something.

That doesn’t fly with mainstream American audiences. We live, breathe, and die on the Hero’s Journey and expect a three-act-structure with few novel exceptions.

That does not mean your totally unique or subversive plot structure is wrong. So much writing advice I’ve found is solid advice, sure, but it doesn’t often help me with the story I’m writing. I don’t write romance like the typical romance you’d expect (especially when it comes to monster allegories). There’s some character archetypes I just can’t write and refuse to include–like the sad, abusive, angsty, 8-pack abs love interest, or the comedic relief.

Beyond making sure your audience can actually understand what you’re trying to say, both because you want your message to be received, and you don’t want your readers to quit reading, there is an audience for everything, and exceptions to nearly every rule, even when it comes to writing foundations like grammar and syntax.

You don’t even have to put dialogue in quotes. (Be advised, though, that the more ~unique~ your story is, the more likely you are to only find success in a niche audience).

Lots of writing advice is useful. Lots of it is contradictory. Lots of it is outdated because audience expectations are changing constantly. There is a balance between what you *should* do as said by other writers, and what you think is right for your story, regardless of what anyone else says.

Just don’t make it confusing.

—

I just dropped my cover art and summary for my debut novel. Go check it out and let me know what you think!

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #editing #constructive criticism #what no one tells you about writing

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norrisleclercf1 · 8 months

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charles who is all of a sudden SO cranky and irritable. with carlos, fred, even pierre and joris. but only 4 people know his biggest secret. arthur, lorenzo, pascale, and joris. everyone else is just SO confused on what the hell his problem is all of a sudden and how he needs to snap out of it last week. but what they don’t know is that his little baby girl is in hospital, so so so so so sick, nonstop crying, having trouble breathing. just overall looking so pale and sickly and cha can’t help but worry about the worst. and the babe ends up being in hospital long term, between critical care and intensive care, down to a unit for babes who are less sick but then bouncing right back up. maybe she needs a procedure done to help, and she’s so little she can’t say many words but she’s very clear about wanting dada. so on a wednesday on race week he takes a red eye flight so he can cuddle his babe and hold her hand before/during them taking her back. i’ve seen those pics and i’m sure cha would be this dad where he’s just lay on the bed with the babe to hold her. and she’s a level 100 clinger when it comes to her daddy. and when she’s asleep on his chest (he would take his shirt off just so she feels closer and safer) he looks over to you who looks equally pale, and crying. tells you to climb in and you both fall asleep in the babe’s hospital bed on a wednesday morning.

but then he misses media day, misses free practice day. everyone is worried. fred still doesn’t know why he’s not there. he just up and vanished and won’t answer his phone, even arthur isn’t there for f2 currently.

post procedure on a thursday evening, she looks a bit better. and cha besides with momma that they’re done with secret keeping. so he makes a littol post, about him and his littol family, all lying in the hospital bed together. and it shocks EVERYONE because he’s never mentioned it or anything like it, no one had a CLUE. but yeah littol baby girl is still admitted in the hospital come friday evening, but doing better, so he makes the v difficult decision to go race.

(side note: he gets pole and wins the race that week…for his girls)

momma and baby girl post a pic of them watching together in his merch 🥺 but while he’s away he’s having gifts delivered every DAY……but when he’s back from a triple header you’re all of a sudden so cranky and irritable. cha thinks maybe you need sleep, space, love, but nothing works. you’re just so irritable…give it 2 months and we find out cha will be having twin baby girls 🥺

mwah kisses 💓

Woah, I didn't want to add onto this because it was so perfect and you should try writing it yourself oh my god I would love to read this! This was just perfect, I didn't want to mess this up. My god, just shocked at this masterpiece

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 scenario #charles leclerc fanfic #ferrari charles #charles imagine #charles headcannon #charles x reader

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mochifiction · 5 months

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I honestly don’t care if this is a hot take or not. If you are willing to excuse everything that Coriolanus Snow did because he’s HOT now, you are the same type of people who would be susceptible to propaganda or the people who would be complacent in the face of the oppressor. One of the biggest assets to Snow both in the book for Ballad and for the film was his looks. He was attractive to people, and he knew this would play into his advantage in winning people over. Mix attractiveness and charisma and people are willing to listen. It’s a cheap trick, and when reading you could even find yourself laughing at those who fall for his very obvious malicious intents. However, the movie did not give the viewer Snow’s monologues. They did not have the same voices in the film. They just had to rely on Snow’s body language through his actions and his dialogue. In a sense, that only makes Snow’s manipulation much more potent in its execution. You shouldn’t NEED a book to tell you that Snow was being manipulative the entire time. You shouldn’t need the oppressor in your head telling you what they’re thinking to recognize that their plans are nowhere near GOOD. People who are willing to excuse Snow for his actions because of his smile or for his Slim Shady buzz cut need to reevaluate themselves. This is the same Coriolanus Snow that killed over 1,500 kids in the Hunger Games alone, not including the people killed in the shadows or during the active resistance itself. This is the same Coriolanus Snow who is responsible for SELLING CHILDREN into PROSTITUTION to others in the Capitol. He is the reason for the creation of the avoxes, for making being able to live a fraction of a stable life a prize to be won, and more. Snow is EVIL and he always has been. He mentioned Tigris selling herself for their sustainability and calling her ugly in response. He shows disdain towards his own grandmother. He uses Sejanus to his advantage and kills him when it benefits him. Lucy Gray angers him because she is the one person that he cannot control. His love for power is the thing he ogles at the most, and when someone poses a threat to that power, he’s enraged. Everything that Coriolanus Snow does is for his own gain and his own approach to or reaffirmation of his power. Every choice he made in Ballad was for his own self interests. I saw someone on TikTok say that it was “survivalist instinct.” Yes, he had survival in mind with some of his actions, but his overall goals in the novel were centered around his rise to power and what can possibly bring him there. Snow has always been centered around himself. The fact that you are able to watch that movie and still walk away kicking your feet and twirling your hair over CORIOLANUS SNOW shows me how fickle you would actually be in places of resistance. You bought into his manipulation and are giggling about it when you should be concerned. Some people are willing to JUSTIFY what he’s done. I have NEVER seen so many people go around in circles trying to justify the actions of PRESIDENT SNOW since this movie came out and it genuinely scares me. Simping over TOM BLYTH is one thing and THIS POST IS NOT FOR THOSE PEOPLE. But the people who BOUGHT into Snow’s manipulation, you’re fucking dumb as rocks. Remember Finnick? Everyone in this fanbase was all over Finnick and how attractive he was in the movies and how badly they wanted him. When the fandom finds another pretty boy, they gravitate towards him knowing he’s the one that murdered their first. One of the biggest tragedies about Snow’s character is that you see who he could have been, and then you see who he CHOSE TO BECOME. People forget the latter part. He chose to become who he did, and you’re trying to tell me everything he did was for survival? The public clearly has beauty trump critical thought, and you SHOULD be scared.

#media literacy #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #the hunger games #peeta mellark #katniss and peeta #katniss everdeen #maude ivory #sejanus plinth #sejanus deserved better #president snow #you people make me sick #read a book #hot take #finnick odair #haymitch abernathy #effie trinket

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

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———

For some reason the lack of a little jingling bell throws her off.

It’s a quintessential diner thing, she supposes. A little bell above the door. There’s the weird decor and the pressed cotton uniforms and the yelling chef and the little bell. It was in both Back to the Future one and two. That’s how she knows she’s right.

But when she pushes open the door with windows so caked with grime she can hardly see through them, there is no little jingle. And when she looks up at the door frame, eyebrows furrowed, it seems sad and lonely. She’s never been so aware of the lack of a sound, the absence of a noise. It makes the rest of the silence of the diner seem eerie, wrong. Dead.

She takes a hesitant step forward, door swinging shut behind her. She realizes as she approaches the ordering counter that her hand rests palm cupped on her belly, and removes it immediately.

“Hello?”

There are a couple groups of people in the back, talking quietly over their food. It doesn’t make the diner seem any less abandoned, somehow. If anything it feels like a TV playing on mute in a hospital. Saturated static.

“Seat yourself, girl. You ain’t never been to a diner before?”

The woman that speaks is tall and plump and harsh-looking. A very strange mixing of features. They’re at odd with the diner-specific yellow uniform she wears, collar pressed but skirt wrinkled. Apron dusted with flour and streaked with machine oil. Face pinched, eyes hard, black hair resting in dainty ringlets along her shoulders. Her name tag only reads the name of the business.

“A couple,” Naomi defends. “One even had a hostess.”

The woman — who must be a manager — raises an eyebrow.

“You see a hostess’ station?”

“No.”

“Then why haven’t you sat yourself?”

“‘Cause I’m not here to eat.”

“Well, then, get the hell out of my restaurant.”

Naomi holds her gaze, tilting up her chin. She will not be swayed by orneriness. “I need a job.”

The manager eyes her critically. Naomi’s hands twitch, and the top of her head feels suddenly itchy. Summer before highschool she’d wrote her first resume — Mama’d drawn her a bath and sat behind her and spent two hours slowly untangling the ratty mess of curls on her head with nothing but a bottle of cheap jasmine conditioner and her own two fingers, telling her about lasting first impressions.

“Go home, kid.”

“I’m not a fu —” She stumbles over her words at the last second, catching herself before that eyebrow can climb any higher. It does, and the other eyebrow begins to climb with it, but she rights herself and powers on. “I can vote,” she says finally. “I can throw on a uniform and get blown up across seas. I can — I can adopt a child, if I so choose. Right now.”

The eyebrows reach critical height, brushing the end of her carefully teased hairline. Naomi watches them and their inspiring journey with intensity, instead of noticing how the manager’s eyes drop down to her stomach, linger, and then return to her face.

“You gonna adopt it right outta your womb, or what?”

Naomi snaps her mouth shut.

“Well,” she says, and nothing else.

The manager sighs. “This ain’t a charity.”

Naomi barely manages to bite the snark back from her voice before she speaks.“I’m not asking for charity. I’m asking for work.”

Eyes shifting to the tables in the back, the manager leans over the counter, long fingers wrapping around the handle of a coffee pot so old the handle has worn right down to plain metal, and walks over to a beckoning customer. She fills a man’s mug with her lips pressed thin, offering a napkin to a child in a high chair.

“And why would I hire some pregnant kid?”

The customer pushes over a stack of plates without moving his eyes from the newspaper in front of him. There’s a woman on the other side of the table, holding a spoon out to the little kid, eyes desperate and tight smile slipping when the kid’s pudgy fist hits and sends the scoop of scrambled eggs flying. The man brings the coffee to his lips and waves the manager away.

“It’s illegal for an employer to discriminate against a pregnant person,” Naomi says finally. That had been drilled into her head by her Mama, too. That and how to keep her finances separate. She’ll have real trouble with that, what with the zero dollars she’ll have by the end of the week.

“Good thing I’m not your employer, then.” The manager sets the plates by a soapy sink, putting the coffee pot back on the hot plate. “Get lost.”

I am lost, Naomi almost says, almost slamming a hand in the counter to catch herself from her suddenly weak knees. She watches the manager watch her, tight little frown furling the corner of her mouth, through the blur of her eyes, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat.

“Please,” she says, too quiet, then tries again: “Please.”

The manager disappears behind a short half-wall, following the sound of an oven dinging. Naomi gasps silently, bowing over the counter, breathing heavily. She curls her hands into fists and presses them, hard, one to her chest and one right under her ribs. Ka-thump, ka-thump, kickkickkick. Kickkick ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-kickthump.

There’s an echoing clatter as a hot tray slams on a stove top. Scrambling upright, Naomi lifts the little door on the counter, scanning the space. The register is ancient and yellowed, buttons so worn with use the labels have worn away. There’s a thread-thin mat at the base of it. The counters are clean but scratched, walls stained but dust-free. The coffeemaker gurgles pathetically. An apron hangs from a hook nailed to the wall by the kitchen window.

As quietly as she can, Naomi slips it over her head. It’s tight around the waist, so she folds it once and ties it around her ribs, instead, letting the straps dangle loosely at the butt of her jeans. She ties her hair quickly behind her head and steps up to the creaky sink, silently moving the pile of dishes to the empty counter. When the clatter in the kitchen starts up again, she turns the water on as quick as she can — hack gurgle rush — and squeezes the mostly empty soap bottle as hard as she can to make up a lather.

“Hell are you doing?” says the manager gruffly, two pies balancing on her oven mitt hands.

Naomi shrugs.

“You deaf, or stupid?”

She thinks if laughter like a lyre and sun golden hair, plucking at her out-of-tune guitar string and asking a similar question. The ghost of a smile pulls across her face.

“Not deaf. And that’s rude.”

A pie plate crinkles under the press of a knife, and the scent of candy cherry mixes with slightly-burnt coffee. Makes her think of Grammy’s house, the smell of the jams she spent sixty years making soaked permanently in the wooden foundations. The manager finishes plating the pie slices and sliding them under the display glass around the same time Naomi suds up the last dirty mug. She watches her red-painted finger tap, tap, tap on her bicep out of the corner of her eye as she rinses it off.

Unplugging the sink, dirty water gurgling as it drains, she points a hesitant elbow at the dishtowel tucked into the managers pocket. She grabs it, threading it around her fingers, twisting the worn pink tail.

“Freezer broke two days ago.” She picks at a loose thread ‘til it pulls clean from the rest of the fabric, balling it up and sliding it into her pocket. She tugs on the fabric one last time, then tosses it, bundled, into Naomi’s waiting hands. “Tables in the back better have their bill by the time I get back from fixin’ it.”

Naomi hunches over the sopping dishes to hide her smile, listening to the scritch scritch click of the manager’s shoes as she stomps away.

———

Di doesn’t believe in paycheques.

“Great way to get ripped off,” she likes to grumble, slapping a stack of 20s bundled in a stapled piece of notebook paper into Naomi’s hands every Friday. She doesn’t think much of taxes, either, or lawyers, or racecar drivers. Naomi doesn’t quite understand that last one, but she knows better than to ask. As far as she’s concerned she’s still on probation, and probably will be if she works at the diner for another four months. Or the rest of her life.

On one hand, Naomi doesn’t have a bank account, so a cheque would be useless to her anyway. The cash she can use immediately and whenever she needs it. On the other hand, which is currently occupied with sewing back closed the hole she gouged in her backseat for the seventeenth week in a row, she has nowhere exactly to put that money, so it stresses her out.

Maybe she should look into an apartment.

Of course there are no apartment buildings in Sheffield. But she’s pretty sure Iraan is a big enough town to have a couple, as squat as they may be, and it’s only a twenty minute drive. There’s more to do there, too, so maybe she’d actually have a reason to take a day off every week. It’s not like she can buy a damn house with the less-than 3000 dollars she has saved up.

Waddling out of her car, she ducks into the diner. You’d think she’d be used to the lack of bell, now, but she finds that she still anticipates it; finds that her brain still quietly signals to her ears to prep for it. It always sets her off, a little.

“You’re late,” says Di critically, uniform hanging over her arm, foot tap tap-ing on the linoleum floor.

“I don’t have a starting time,” Naomi says lightly. “On account that I am not your employee.“

Di huffs, rolling her eyes. Naomi rolls them right back, snatching the uniform from her arms on the way to the bathroom. She has to wear Di’s, now, because she doesn’t fit into her old one. Di is much taller and broader than her and the stupid thing hangs down to her mid-calf, awkwardly drowning her shoulders, but it’s the only thing wide enough to cover her belly and Di refuses to let Naomi just wear her regular clothes.

(“You’re indecent,” she always says, sneering at her jean shorts, but Naomi has learned to translate you’re indecent but also you can’t have bare legs around hot oil, which she’s come to appreciate. Sure, Di makes her clean the bathroom whether or not she needs to crawl around in her knees to stay balanced, but she doesn’t want her burned to death, at least. That’s something.)

“And your hair’s unwashed,” she adds, as if Naomi had not walked away. She reaches up and adjusts Naomi’s collar, like that is going to do anything to change the fact that she looks like she’s wearing a collapsed tent. “You’re going to drive customers away.”

Naomi doesn’t say, you open before the community centre does, so I can’t shower in the mornings. She does not say, I spent last night trying to change the oil on my car when I couldn’t lie down to reach it. She doesn’t say, I’m too scared to sleep in the community centre parking lot, because my windows aren’t tinted and I don’t know what’ll wake me up.

She says, “The only thing scaring customers away is your busted attitude,” and scurries into the kitchen before Di can order her to clean the friers.

———

Naomi’s favourite part of the diner is the radio.

She can’t believe that Di allows it, what with her general distaste for joy in all of its forms. But it’s balanced on the window sill watching over the oven, antenna extended out the torn screen, dials permanently stuck on an old forgotten country channel. Naomi likes to hum along as she works, frying potatoes or kneading dough, twirling around the kitchen with a mop or a broom. It’s nice even when she’s cramping, even when her feet are sore — she likes hollering along to Dolly Parton when she knows Di is listening, want to move ahead, but the boss won’t seem to let me, likes the way her little parasite goes absolutely buck wild whenever Willie Nelson comes on. She can hear it even when she’s in the dining area, plates balanced all up her arms (and on her belly, too, which is one of the many things she has discovered it’s useful for), humming along to scratching dorks and scritching napkins, working 9 to 5, what a way to make a livin’.

She amuses herself often by making up lives for the various patrons. They’re close enough to the main highway that they get all sorts driftin’ in, from families with bratty kids who upend their food on the floor for Naomi to clean to men in starched suits who never leave a tip. The regulars she’s gotten to know, like the older, stocky, short-haired woman called Bella who smiles softly at her and leaves more than double her bill every breakfast. Or the two young men, college seniors, she thinks, who come in every Saturday afternoon and laugh loudly and talk about strange subjects and rope her into their conversations when there’s no one around and she’s bored.

Other patrons, though, strangers, she speculates. Like there’s a man in the farthest back corner, now, hunched over in the peeling green vinyl seats, scrawling frantically in a tiny notebook. She imagines he’s a private investigator, chasing a lead, about to discover that the woman on a date on the other end of the diner is cheating on her husband of fifteen years.

“Naomi, if you don’t get your ass back to work.”

She throws her hands up. “There’s nothing to do!”

Di observes the half-empty diner, noting the clean tables, neat counters, sparkling kitchen. Each customer sitting satisfied in their table, coffee mugs full, plates still hefty with food.

“Clean the grout.”

Scowling, Naomi stomps to the kitchen, wrenching open the cupboard under the counter and yanking out the Mr. Clean and scrub brush. It’s an ordeal and a half to get on the floor, wincing at the extra weight on her knees, sitting back on her heels with every spray and keeping one hand on her belly while the other scrubs. I Got Stripes by Johnny Cash starts playing through the radio, and she grits out the lyrics with every drag of the brush through the tiles.

“— and then chains, them chains, they’re ‘bout to drag me down —”

A pair of worn black boots come stomping into her line of vision. Naomi finishes scrubbing at a stubborn smear of grease, relishing in how it submits under her power, then rests her weight on her tired hands and tilts her chin up to glare up at her boss.

“I got stripes, stripes around my shoulders,” she sings defiantly, “chains, chains around my feet —”

“I should whip you, you damn drama queen,” Di says darkly, glaring right back. “Had three separate customers come on up to me askin’ me if I’m mistreatin’ ‘that poor young pregnant girl’.”

Naomi smiles triumphantly.

Di scowls, rolling her eyes hard enough to visibly strain her face, and drops some kind of foam pads at her feet. She stomps off without another word, scowling at the radio.

Poking at the pads, Naomi discovers they’re meant to be strapped to her knees. She slips them on, immediately noticing the relief.

For the rest of her shift, she’s an angel.

Di even almost smiles at her.

———

“Naomi, go home.”

“What happened to kid?” Naomi pants, knuckles going white against the counter. She breathes slowly and carefully through her mouth — in, two, three, four, out, two, three, four, in, two — and grits her teeth, staring determinately at the sticky tabletop until the dizziness fades. “I didn’t even know you knew my name.”

“I don’t.” A roughened hand rests on the small of her back, loosening the too-tight apron straps. “You’re sick, kid.”

“I’m fine.”

She tilts forward. Di barely manages to catch her, settling her slowly on the floor without so much as a comment about how heavy she is.

“The diner is empty, Naomi.” The same roughened hand moves up to the back of her neck, untangling the sweaty strands of hair that stick to her skin. Her voice is unusually soft. “You’re nine months pregnant, kiddo. You need to go home. You need to rest —”

“I need to work.”

With great effort, Naomi shoves her away, standing slowly to her feet. The world is still wobbly and bile climbs up her throat, but she pushes forward, hands half-extended beside her. She reaches back for the wet rag, swiping weakly at the table. An onslaught of nausea makes her pause, mouth clamped shut, breathing quick and deep through dry nostrils.

When she speaks again, Di’s voice is hard. “I’m not asking. Get out of my diner. Go home, or you won’t be allowed back. I won’t be accused of killing some dumbass kid who doesn’t know when to quit.”

“I can’t —” she gags, tears springing in her eyes, desperately trying to wrestle back some control of her body — “there’s nowhere, please, Di, let me —”

She slaps a hand to her mouth, heaving. She hasn’t even — she hasn’t eaten all day. The smell of anything makes her want to vomit. The idea of putting anything more in her body makes her want to peel off her skin. She feels — bloated and freakish and ugly; like an unsuspected astronaut on a sieged spaceship.

Like she’s about to burst.

“Oh, for the love of — Naomi, please tell me you are not nine months pregnant and sleeping in your fucking car.”

Naomi says nothing. She squeezes her eyes shut and tries not to think of Mama’s peony-scented perfume.

“Jesus Christ.”

Stomp, click, stomp stomp. Rattling chain, swishing cardboard. Flicking switch. Turning dial, fading music. Stomp, click, stomp stomp.

Two callused hands on her biceps, dragging her upright.

“C’mon, up you get. Where’re your keys?”

A hand digs around in her apron pocket.

“What, d’you fuckin’ run these over or somethin’? The hell’d you fuckin’ do to these things?”

No jingle on the door. A flipped sign.

“No, obviously you can’t — go get in the fuckin’ passenger seat, dumbass. God.”

Di mutters something about stupid kids and stupider adults, for putting up with them. Naomi smiles tiredly. Daddy used to say that all the time, flicking her on the forehead.

“Roll the window down. You need fresh air.”

The slight breeze coming in from the window is helpful, actually. It’s been a disgustingly hot summer, and Naomi has had to sleep with her windows down to avoid suffocating. She wakes up to mosquito bites in places she frankly did not know could be bitten.

“D’you think you’re going into labour?” Di asks quietly, over Dolly’s crooning. Bittersweet memories, that’s all I’m takin’ with me.

Naomi sighs, shaking her head. Already, the nausea has faded into the background. The sweat cools against her skin, and she stops feeling quite so much like she’s going to die.

“No. It’s only been eight months and a little less than two weeks.”

“…You remember the exact date?”

Well, hello, feverish flush. How I’ve missed you so. Will you do me a favour and cook me alive, while you’re here?

“It was a very memorable occasion,” Naomi mumbles, shrinking back into her seat.

“I see.”

Naomi’s never seen Di look quite so amused before. Her whole face softens, and her brown eyes look warm, for once. Naomi would attack her if she had the strength.

Di cruises slowly down Main St, conscientious of the kids ducking in and out of the shops, laughing with their friends. A tween girl looks over at an older boy and whips back over to her friends when he meets her eyes, the whole group of them descending into delighting shrieks. Naomi watches them with a smile and an ache in her chest. She wonders how Molly’s doing. How Esther’s holding up, how Leela is faring. Jen’s at school, now, all the way up in NYC. She hopes they’re well and tries not to hate them for not being here.

Sheffield’s small, and there’s not a street Naomi hasn’t driven down. She spends most of her free time in the community centre pool or the desert around the diner, sure, but she’s been around. When Di turns on Pine St and follows her all the way down, though, she frowns, looking over and asking a wordless question.

Di doesn’t answer. She’s driven them all the way to the other side of town in less than five minutes, pulling into a gravel parking lot and killing the engine.

“C’mon,” she grunts, climbing out of the tiny car and waiting, arms crossed, for Naomi to do the same.

“Sure, sure, let the pregnant woman crawl out of her own seat. Don’t lift a finger or anything.”

Di rolls her eyes.

As soon as Naomi has struggled her way out of the car, which takes her a good four minutes, Di stalks off. In her harried attempt to follow her, Naomi feels like a duck hopped up on an energy drink.

“What kinda money do you have?”

Naomi looks at her strangely. “Uh, what you pay me.”

“Yes, obviously, I meant savings.”

“What you pay me,” Naomi repeats.

Di purses her lips. “Well.”

She does not finish her thought. Instead, she strides down the gravel driveway, heedless of Naomi’s struggle behind her, until she approaches a squat looking building with ‘OFFICE’ printed on the little window.

“She needs a room,” she says to the clerk sitting behind it, gesturing at Naomi.

Naomi looks at her in alarm.

“Di, I can’t —”

“Fifty a night,” responds the man quickly.

“Try again.”

Di’s response is swift and immediate, ignoring Naomi’s tugging hand. She pulls away, resting her hands on her lower back, swivelling her head between Di and the man.

“Rate’s a rate, Di.”

She’s not surprised this man knows Di — everyone knows Di. But the slant to his eyebrows is unfamiliar, the hands clasped easily behind his head. He relaxes back into a leather office chair, heeled boot hiked up to rest in his knee, whistling absentmindedly in the face of Di’s glare.

“Two hundred a week.”

“Not a chance.”

“I’m not asking, Jed.”

The man — Jed — finally starts to look irate, meeting Di’s jaw-set stare with one of his own.

“I’m sorry, I musta missed something. Did you up and buy this place?”

Di doesn’t answer him right away. She never slouches, always standing at her full height, and she’s mighty tall for a woman. For anyone, really. She has a way of planting herself right in front of the sun, no matter where she is. Jed stares up at her, squinting, cast in Di’s shadow everywhere but where he needs to be sheltered.

“You gotta laundry list of shit you done owed me your whole life, Jed.”

Jed just his chin out.

“I don’t owe her shit.”

Blunt fingers wrap around her elbow. “She’s mine.”

“Ain’t how this works, Di.”

“Says who? You?”

For all her intensity, Naomi doesn’t think Di’ll actually fight anyone. If she would, Naomi would’ve gotten her ass kicked months ago.

(She’s mine. Kiddo. You need rest. Roll down the window.)

(…Well.)

Regardless, a flash of fear flits across Jed’s face. He cuts his gaze from Naomi to Di and then back again, pupils shrinking, and then invariably comes to a decision.

“Two fifty,” he snaps, scowling. “Not a penny less, Di.”

Di nods once. “Fine.”

She tightens the hold on Naomi’s elbow, dragging her away from the window. There’s an echoing bang, bang, bang, interspersed with muffled curses, before Jed stumbles out of a door on the side of the scaffolding. He stomps away without looking back, and Di tugs her along to follow.

“Laundry is your own problem. Clean your own shit. If you miss a payment, I’m kicking you out. Clear?”

Naomi stares. Jed standing in front of another low, old building, but this one is much longer, a door posited every dozen or so feet. A plastic chair sits in front of every door, and every door is numbered.

A motel, Naomi realises.

“Clear, kid?”

“Crystal,” Naomi manages, throat dry. Jed practically throws the key at her head, stomping back to the office. Numbly, Naomi slides it in the lock, pushing open the door.

The room isn’t big. There’s a double bed in the middle, a window in the far side and a dresser under it. A TV rests in a dugout shelf in the wall, and there’re two small doors next to it; a closet and a bathroom, Naomi assumes. Smaller than her bedroom back home.

Much, much bigger than her car.

“You’re gonna have to work another ten hours a week to afford this place,” Di says critically. When Naomi looks back at her, she’s lingering at the doorway, staring resolutely at Naomi’s face. Not a spare glance for the room itself.

Naomi does the math fast in her head.

“Twenty hours.”

Di scowls. “Don’t insult me, kid. Ten more hours a week; make sure you’re early tomorrow. I don’t give a shit if you’re sick again, either.”

Naomi swallows. She smooths a hand over the quilt tucked neatly over the bed — it’s soft, if not warm. The pillow is plump.

God, she’s missed pillows.

“Thank you, Di,” she says quietly.

Di makes a small twitching motion with her head that may, in some lighting, be considered a nod, then stalks off. Naomi sinks into the mattress; surprised at how much her feet aches now that she’s off of them.

She swings them up, kicking off her boots, to rest on top of the blanket. She leans against the rickety headboard. She rests her hand on her swollen stomach and slowly, silently, begins to cry.

“You and me and sheer fuckin’ will, kid,” she mumbles, face crumpling. The constant ache in the small of her back lifts, slightly. She stretches her toes as far as they’ll go and cries harder. “We’re gettin’ there. We’re gettin’ there. We’re gettin’ there.”

———

naomi art

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