#i am trying to get better at being kind to myself bout my art this year so YEAH

[ofthecaravel]

Try, try, try to understand he's a magic man 🔮🎸

#this is wiggly and messy but!! i am actually very proud of this!!!! #it looks like jake!!! #only one sketch layer!! #i am trying to get better at being kind to myself bout my art this year so YEAH #the stomach especially.....hes got a hot bod jake ily hiii #gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #myart #greta van art

[scepterno]

Oh my god I love nsfw with acc feelings in it it makes it so real and meaningful icl

I remember reading one where Alejandro was insanely focused on Noah and like to get handsy and describe every part he loved ab him😭 Alejandro when he’s not playing in TD is so different towards people (if he wasn’t attracted to Heather he’d be attracted to Noah?? Or something like that I remember seeing it) but yeah Noah felt so safe with him and wasn’t at all nervous to say no to things in the fic it was so sweet☹️

I haven't read any nsfw fics of alenoah simply because.. erm...... i do not enjoy a lot of alenoah fics in general.. i cannot shake the feeling that most are written by teens so i just tend to avoid them by virtue of not wanting to read some high schooler's fanfic. i am a stickler about proper grammer, syntax, rhythm and beats, or what have you. *pushes up glasses* i am a scholar in STEM at heart. do not let the art degree fool you! when you get older and go to college you tend to...................................... now, i don't mean to be rude, but you tend to refine your tastes in literature, aka silly gay fanfics in the internet.

i just cannot bring myself to sit through more than 2 sentences of a fic if there's not proper punctuation or grammar. (also you can sort of tell when a fic is written by someone young or inexperienced, which, you know, power to them! you cant get better if you dont suck first! but that does not. mean. i will subject myself to Suck) i simply cannot. it hurts my bones.

that was a totally unrelated tangent. WOOPS. sourry 'bout that, mate.

what you're thinking of is the reddit AMA with alejandro's original voice actor where someone asked if they could see alejandro being attracted to anyone other than Heather, using Noah as an example, and he agreed. (they kind of led him into that one, so i take it with a grain of salt, but celebrate nonetheless)

i personally cannNNNAWWWWTTTT see Noah as submissive in a sexual situation with alejandro. with someone like Emma? yeah. sure. vaporize that stupid twink. but with alejandro, who brings out the competitive, spiky side to Noah??? i cant see him assuming the submissive role. maybe he likes to get pampered and Pillow Princess'd once in a while (he is VERY lazy to his core, after all).

i do find it interesting how most people tend to agree that alejandro would be a much better person as soon as he's no longer on reality television. although, i suppose that applies to most characters, especially the villains.

i personally still think that alejandro has a nasty side, since he wasn't ALLOWED to have a nasty side around his family (or he'd get a beating). being on total drama let him have fun with being a complete asshole, which is not something he was ever allowed to do before then, because he's supposed to be perfect! and suave! and a gentleman! Chris hired him to be a dirtbag, so he played the part and had a blast doing it (until it bit him in the ass)

i do regret not being able to show alejandro's Nasty Side more in my fic, but i dont' really think there was room for it given how hard he was trying to redeem himself both in his family's eyes, as well as Noah's. once he and Noah are more comfortable with each other, Alejandro definitely allows himself to be let loose a bit and forego the manners. he truly DOES admire that Noah isn't a pushover, because he considers himself one and wishes, deep down, that he wasn't so compelled to be a people pleaser. there is a subconscious filter in his brain that keeps him generally polite, just because it's been drilled into him by his family (diplomatic and strict, cough cough) that being undesirable or off-putting is something to be punished for.

EGADS, it appears I have allowed myself to ramble again, so I'll cut it off here. sorry for using your fairly straightforward message as a means of info-dumping. 'tis the turn of the tide, or what have you.

じゃね~~~~!!!

[nerves-nebula]

Sorry bout this thing but I kinda wanted to tell my thoughts about your stuff. Im kind of hoping this will get drowned in your inbox honestly, since this is just a really long unsolicited rant of mine.

Sometimes when i scroll through your account and I encounter csa, incest and mentions of suicide in your posts I get uncomfortable but then I remember that one phrase that goes something like "Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comforted" and I just feel kinda bad bout myself.

When I was a kid my nannys bf forced me to kiss him in the lips whenever we met. I was 6. It was uncomfortable. I never did tell my nanny about it. My parents are both police people and my mother had long explained the concept of rape and how unconsensual touch is bad and you shouldnt allow that but something prevented me from telling anyone what was happening. I dont know why. I know they would immiedietly jail that guy if they did but somehow it felt like no one would believe me. I never told them until now, then when I was what, 6-8 years old? I cant even remember. Yeah somewhere around that, he molested me when my nanny was few feet away and asleep and for the next 4 years of my life i felt dirty. Desecrated. Stupid. I couldnt even look down at my naked body when i shower back then, but somehow I managed to trudge on living by trying to forget the fact it happened. Its been 8 years since Ive last seen him. Ive told anyone who I knew who doesnt care enough to be friends with me but cared enough to listen about it but my Parents are none the wiser and i plan on keeping it that way.

Also. Im a year away from being legal now. Ive thought about killing myself or just generally not wanting to exist anymore many times since then, cuz lifes equipped with motolov cocktails of "get fucked dumbass" and i somehow managed to get a coupon for at least a million of them.

(I hope that line made you laugh if you read this).

Coming back to the phrase i mentioned earlier, it feels weird whenever i feel something similar to the feeling of being triggered while looking at csa being depicted. By definition, i would be considered a victim, and id of course would be comforted by seeing similar experiences happen to people because relating to something usually induces a positive feeling. I dont. I see your art and it guts me. It guts me and the fact that it does also guts me, because what does that mean? I am supposed to be the comforted? Despite the fact that I was taken advantage of as a child and spent night after might thinking how stupid i was and why I let that happen to me even when I was equiped with the information that makes me less vulnerable than other children? So i do I correspond more with those who are defined as comforted then, was i not disturbed after all? Was i victimizing myself all along? Am I a bad person for thinking i was? No wait, that doesnt make any sense at all. Its all wrong. Why am I so guilty about this? Why am i subjecting myself to this?

And then it repeats.

I still go through your blog because well, i love tmnt, i love your artstyle, i love the way you tell stories, I love how you dont sugar coat csa, incest and other darker topics like body horror, erotism and sadism, i hate how much it haunts me, i love the fact i can relate, i hate how much you hurt them, i love the fact that you dont hold back, i love how you show the ugly sides of healing, i love how you depict how much people can change and struggle. Its comforting to me. Its discomforting to me. I stick hand into the fire knowing I would be burned, then I do.

And i like it. I like it somehow, like taking a nice smoke break when you have mild asthma, but like, better. Its a nice change of pace to feel so conflicted like this, its a nice change of pace to feel anything at all really.

But yeah. Tldr. Sorry for the trauma dump and your art makes me feel complicated. Its neat 👍

lot to reply to here! also, unfortunately for you, i check my inbox obsessively and dont get nearly as many asks as you seem to believe i do.

so firstly, no snappy saying is meant to encompass all of human experience, and you certainly shouldn't judge yourself for not fitting into it. easier said than done, i know, but still. i'm gonna try to address some things here, not gonna touch on all of it, but just know that i appreciate you sitting down to write me this.

(I hope that line made you laugh if you read this).

it made me smile, but i laughed at this, because it's a very sweet look into you writing this. puts into perspective how, even though this is public, it was written TO me. like a letter in victorian times or something. that's sweet, i like that.

and id of course would be comforted by seeing similar experiences happen to people because relating to something usually induces a positive feeling. I dont.

you're making a lot of assumptions here that are kind of wild in that "this thought process was clearly designed by your mind to upset you specifically" sort of way. I mean, would you say this to literally anyone else when they feel uncomfortable or triggered about viewing media that relates to their trauma? There's really no telling what a survivor will feel comforted by and you aren't Doing It Wrong by having a different reaction.

there's a reason i tag it as "csa tw" and that's so people can AVOID it as well as search it up.

how stupid i was and why I let that happen to me even when I was equipped with the information that makes me less vulnerable than other children?

i know you recognize at the end of the thought process that this is not true, but i feel the need to reiterate: there is no such thing as being less vulnerable than other children through your own actions. you can try to equip kids with knowledge that might protect them, but that doesn't make them any less vulnerable.

my dad told me about rape and molestation all the time, but he never accounted for the kinds of scenarios i was actually the most likely to fall victim to, partly because i don't think he actually knew much about childhood sexual abuse, and partly because he was more obsessed with the idea of me being kidnapped and raped/murdered than he was about forms of sexual abuse he'd consider more "mild"

No wait, that doesnt make any sense at all. Its all wrong. Why am I so guilty about this? Why am i subjecting myself to this?

i can't answer that one, unfortunately. personally, i like to feel gutted, it's cathartic to me. might be something like that to you, based on how you go on to describe it, but you might also be doing some kinda self harm.

I stick hand into the fire knowing I would be burned, then I do.

saaaaame. i triggered myself into a breakdown in class once cuz i'd been reading fucked fanfiction before class and i got SAD lol.

Its a nice change of pace to feel so conflicted like this, its a nice change of pace to feel anything at all really.

we are shaking hands over this.

anywho, no need to apologize! i am glad, if nothing else, to provide you with a strange and upsetting experience that is not entirely bad.

I really do adore hearing how my stuff makes people feel. it's like, a solid one third of the reason i do this. i still make stuff that doesn't exist to be shown off but WOW showing shit off and getting a response feels FANTASTIC. like, i'm in your head now!! you have been CHANGED by my ART. it's maybe the best part of being alive.

#nnstuff #ask #csa tw #asks are sweethearts

[captainhysunstuff]

How do you deal with continuous, seemingly raging artblock? I want to draw but damn— my hatred towards my own art seems unforgivable. It's like whatever that was produced by my own two hands will cause carnage, a sin dissaproves by all humanity.

Hmmmmmm, I’m probably not the best person to ask for advice on overcoming art blocks unfortunately. It’s such a paaaain. I 100% relate to your feelings, and overcoming them isn’t easy.

Also, my methods aren't exactly the healthiest either, but I'll share regardless. Just keep that in mind. Ehehe.

(I'll put a Read More. It's a little lengthy.)

Whenever I find myself not drawing for a long period of time, I try to reinstate drawing as an addiction or habit. Have it become a craving that's only satisfied by actually drawing something--anything--regardless of quality. In recent days, my art block stems from a lack of being able to multitask and being unable to focus on the drawing process (being tired from work doesn't help either). Therefore, setting aside a space to draw helps, too. Putting on some music you find easy to zone out to or help your flow helps.

The hatred towards your own work is a very hard hurdle to jump. I suppose the key to this is to learn to stop criticizing every stroke you make. Be at peace that not every mark made in the moment is gonna be perfect. This is way easier said than done of course, but when I start falling into the "everything I do is crap and unworthy of eyes" hole, I try to remember that not everything I draw has to be shared. I'm not getting paid to do this (not sure about you, but that's my situation). It's a hobby, and it's supposed to be fun. It's not life or death for me if the character's eyes are skewed or their head is annoyingly asymmetrical. I'd love to be a master artist and have every work I make be a masterpiece, but I'm allowed to draw "crap." If you really feel like your subject isn't coming out the way you want, find or make references to work from and feel good about the effort you put in. There's never any shame in using references. The more you draw, the better you get. That's a straight fact. Eventually, you won't need refences, and that's a pretty cool feeling~.

Basically, if you're facing a bout of art block, try and doodle something with the mindset that it doesn't have to be perfect, and no one has to see it unless you want to share it. You could always surprise yourself and be like, "Hey, this is actually pretty cool~. Check it out!" But if that doesn't happen, it's okay. It's not a failure. Just add the drawing to the pile and bask in the satisfaction that you actually put strokes to the page, and you've gotten a bit better just by doing so. (That's kind of the point of my whiteboard to be honest~. I also use it to hold up my recent drawings or pages of my comic as a reminder to draw and of how far I've come along in whatever "project" I'm working on. It's neat to see it all hanging up in a physical space. It's a little bit guilt trippy to myself, but it does put a clear bookmark in where I am when I pick it back up, and I can edit it whenever I see something strange as I walk by it~.)

If the block stems from lack of inspiration rather than skill, try exposing yourself to some new media (a new show, movie, book, fanfiction...) or do something that stimulates your brain like going outside or talking to your friends. Don't feel like these activities are procrastinating from creating. They are necessary aspects of your life, and you shouldn't feel guilt for doing them instead of drawing something. Your art isn't made in a vacuum. While out in the "field," you may encounter something that inspires an idea that you can't wait to express through your medium ("Whoa. I HAVE to draw this when I get back!" Write it down if you can so you don't forget~). If you're really passionate about drawing, the urge will come back, and you'll find the time to try and sketch something, even if it's small. I'll admit, I don't do these life things as often as I should, so I need to take my own advice, lol. The list of new stuff I wanna check out is massive~. I am working on leaving my home and observing my surroundings more often though (Covid makes it a little difficult, but I get by).

I know your question was more about trying not to hate your own work, but I also addressed things that I felt were relevant because they make me want to draw regardless of how I feel about the end result. Try your best to not compare yourself to others too much and draw for yourself more. Acknowledge that you want to improve, but don't beat yourself up for not meeting your self-imposed standard of "perfect." So, draw with lower expectations sometimes, I guess? *shrugs and laughs* Like I said, the more you draw, the better your get. Even if you personally think it looks like crap, be like, "Yeah, I did that!" Just own it. Own your "carnage~." ^__^

(*laughs* Carnage. That's such a great way to refer to one's artwork~.)

#asks and answers #art block #artist issues #I hope this ramble helps in any way~

[psychichomie]

Short Horror Story - Diagnosis

TW: Gore, body horror, mentions of chronic Illness, suspense/horror,

Read at your own risk. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The monster showed up when I first was told that something was wrong with my body. 

The doctors said that my iron was low. My blood pressure wasn’t excellent, and I was having bouts of constipation and diarrhea with no observable trigger. I was prone to tiredness, low energy, fevers, joint pain and stiffening, and uncontrollable shakes. I have asthma and can sometimes develop serious breathing problems during panic attacks. The doctors haven’t found what was wrong yet, but they kept saying the same things. 

Oh, I’m a young teen boy, it’s nothing to worry about. Hey, I have healthy family members, so it must not be anything serious. I should lose weight. No, I should gain weight. Maybe my diet’s to blame, or my sleep schedule, or something else. 

They don’t get it. None of them do - it's such bullshit. I am sick. Something’s wrong. I am not healthy, and it seems like that thing outside my window is the only one who agrees. 

Nope, I wasn’t going to think about it though. I was trying to sleep. Trying to think calming, soothing thoughts, and lull myself to sleep. I shifted around on the couch until I was comfortable once more. My eyes gazed around the room, following the same path they always do. 

The wall connecting the kitchen to the hallway was bare of any pictures. Dad had taken them all down to repaint, but that project seems to be pushed further and further back nowadays. That’s probably my fault, thinking back on it, but there wasn’t much I could do at the time. I can’t help that I got sick after all, and he’s been so good about helping me through it. The framed pictures that were usually displayed were all propped together at the base of the wall. I could see the pale outlines left behind from the pictures, looking over the now painfully familiar patterns each picture had left behind. One large discolored patch where our family picture goes. A patch where my stepmom and dad’s wedding photo usually hangs. Two smaller discolorations where school photos of my stepsister and I hang. A frame shaped like Mt. Fuji from our vacation to visit family in Japan three years ago. Smaller, barely there marks stretching further down the hall, showing where baby pictures and art projects usually hang. 

We’ve been living in the ‘stairs’ house for… seven years now, I guess. If I’m being honest, I’m kind of surprised we’ve lasted this long in such a backwater town, but beggars can't be choosers. It was better than the ‘sinkhole’ house, though, for obvious reasons.

I shift to lie on my side. The bright light of the TV drowned out the rest of the living room’s features, washing everything in a technicolor haze. Oh, I remember this rerun. It aired last month. This episode was the one where the grandpa turns himself into a pickle. It was apparently the funniest shit ever, if the kids at school were to be believed. They seemed to eat shit like this up, but I’m indifferent. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t the best either. 

I rolled back to turn and lie on my other side, burying my face in the couch cushion. What does it matter, anyway. It’s the only show on at 3 a.m., so it doesn’t have to be good. It just has to be on. 

It’s been my third week of sleeping on the couch, and at this point I’m afraid my dad will make me move back into my room. Last time that thing tried to open the window, I barely made it to the window in time to slam it shut. It had left me so panicked I couldn’t catch my breath, and by the time my dad came up to my room I was having a full blown flare-up.  Luckily, Dad didn’t ask any questions, and merely suggested that I sleep propped up on the couch to avoid another flare up. I’m not stupid, I’d take any opportunity handed to me if it meant getting out of my room, even if it meant being woken up at 5 a.m. as my parents got ready for work. 

 My room isn’t safe anymore, not like how the living room was. Our dog, Momo, was asleep at the end of the hallway. I could see the rough outline of her as she was sprawled out in the doorway to the office. She’d wake up if the thing from before was here. And my step sister sometimes comes up from the basement to get a drink of water, so even if the creature got past Momo, it wouldn’t have a chance to be alone with me. In fact, anyone could leave their room at any moment and make their way into the living room. Even if I am technically alone right now, there would never be a guarantee I’d be alone for long. Yeah, if I was safest anywhere, it was on the couch. I can see all the points of entry and exit, and with the TV on even at the darkest moments there was enough light to tell apart shapes. If it came, even for just a moment, I would be alerted. I would see the creature long before it had a chance to get close. 

With a sigh of frustration I flopped onto my back, brown eyes resolved to scan across the ceiling. The lights from the show were casted on the ceiling, shifting from blue to yellow and then to green as the story continued on screen. I tilted my eyes down to look at the end of the couch, where the hallway wall was. I rubbed at my face, eyes blurring as I once more looked at the wall. 

That was the routine at this point. Pictures, TV, ceiling. Picture, TV, ceiling. Or sometimes, if I’m feeling particularly ballsy, TV, ceiling, and then pictures. As I inhaled for what would have been the bone-weary sigh only a teenager could produce, I felt my chest tighten. A wave of shakes passed through my body, the muscles in my back throbbing and twitching as the ache from before flared up. God it made me nauseous, a feeling like someone rubbing my organs down with sandpaper festering in my gut. 

Great, it seemed like my body has officially vetoed the idea of sleep. The sting of betrayal at my own body ignited for a moment, but I didn’t have the energy to be bitter right now. It was almost a comfort, in a twisted way. A reminder that this was real. The monster from before was real. My failing health was just a symptom of being the monster’s prey, I guess. 

I was psyching myself up to turn onto my side again, because I read online that laying on your left side was best for your digestive tract, but paused. It was one of those moments, where you try to tell your body to move but it’s almost like your body doesn’t get the message. Something wasn’t computing. I tried to move, to shift my hips and once more lie on my side, but I couldn’t. I went to raise my right hand, but it stayed motionless by my side. I tried to wiggle my fingers, tilt my head, even stick out my tongue but it was no use. I could not move at all. 

I was paralyzed. 

My heart sank as I heard a thud from the bathroom window. The bathroom was between the kitchen and the office, the door slightly adjacent to the living room from it’s position in the hallway. No one shut the bathroom door if they weren’t using it, but it usually sat half closed for the sake of modesty. I mentally crossed my fingers and prayed that what I thought was happening wasn’t going to. That I was dreaming, or it was just the wind, or literally any other scenario that wasn’t the one I was imagining. But as the bathroom door slowly yawned open, I gave up any hope. 

It’s strange, seeing the creature up close. It doesn’t look like what you’d think it would. It’s not scaly or slimy or covered in tentacles and teeth. It didn’t look like the creatures in those horror movies my friends loved. And it definitely didn’t wear a hockey mask. 

As the first clawed hand gripped the end of the couch, clawed fingers brushing against the soles of my feet, I started to make out it’s features. It was humanoid, only in the sense that it had four limbs and was somewhat bipedal. It was fleshy, charcoal toned and naked. But it looked naked in the way a mannequin did, like you tried to rationalize where the rest of the parts would go but there just weren’t any there. It’s skin stretched tight over it’s body, causing it to have a smooth almost brittle texture. It seemed like a tanned hide stretched past it’s limit. You could see the indentations of it’s bones through it’s skin, but they interlocked wrongly. The creature looked as if it was folded up several times over and left in a broken heap. Its legs bent backwards like an animal, but the front ones bent forward like a man. Long, spindly claws arched out from it’s four fingered front limbs, thin and strong. Akin to a knife blade. It ran one of those claws up the arch of my right foot, reaching up to rest it’s hand against my ankle. I could feel myself flinch mentally, even if my body gave no reaction. 

“Mmm, I see someone’s awake. How was your day, boy?” It rasped, coils of smoke billowing from it’s mouth. The top of it’s head peaked up over the blanket, distorted by the flashing lights from the TV. Cat like ears were pointed forward, the left one twitching. Piercing yellow-white eyes met mine, and the creature smiled. Its lips were long and thin, the seam of his smile tracing from one edge of it’s jaw to the other. It was uncanny in how the creature smiled, it felt wrong. It’s mouth was far too big for the rest of it’s proportions. 

“No response? Hmm, feeling shy tonight I guess. Well, shall we just get started then?” Quicker than I could register, it was perched against my shins, hovering over my torso. It chuckled lowly, more smoke seeping out of it’s lips. The creature leaned against my hips, sniffing at my abdomen. 

It was almost surgical, the way it used it’s claws to slice open my stomach. Carefully, starting at my left side, it sliced down, cutting deeper and deeper as it raked across my body. It quickly grabbed at either end of the incision, pulling and pulling until it had successfully disemboweled me. It cut a bit more at the edges of my wound, tilting it’s head as if contemplating the state of my abdomen. After it was satisfied with the presentation of my open guts, it sat back on it’s haunches and stared at me. 

“You’ve disappointed me kid. I expected more from you this time,” It tutted, poking at my large intestine. “See, this one? It’s all wrong.” 

It wrapped it’s fingers around a handful of my intestines and pulled, yanking it out of my body with a firm twist. It dangled the organ above my face, shaking it’s head. The tips of my intestine smeared across my face as I tried not to cry. I could feel the warm slick drag of it against my skin, and the wet residue it left behind as he lifted it up once again. 

“This one’s no good,” It muttered, throwing my large intestine to the side. It moved on, rummaging past my small intestine. It ran it’s cool fingers against my liver, sliding over my gallbladder and deeper. It tapped against my colon and muttered something to itself before stopping at my right kidney. 

“This one’ll have to do for now,” it sighed forlornly, plucking my kidney out and holding it up for me to see. It was smaller than I thought it’d be, a little maroon bean coated in thick red blood sitting in the palm of this creature's hand. It tilted its palm, giving me every angle for my viewing pleasure, before popping the organ into it’s mouth. Its sharp teeth shredded the kidney quickly, and it licked what remained of my blood with it’s long barbed tongue.  

“Mmm, it’ll sate me,” The creature mused, sitting back on it’s haunches again. “But you’re not getting sicker fast enough.”

“Wh-What?” I was able to croak out through my teeth. I could flutter my eyelids again. I was getting control of my body back. 

“Oh, you’ll see,” It hummed, stabbing once more into my guts. He fished out my second kidney and quickly popped it in his mouth. His teeth clicked together as he chewed, bits of viscera dripping onto my chest. “Once you’re nice and ripe, you’ll see exactly what I mean. And you’ll agree that you wish it was a faster process. It’s almost a shame y’know, a cute little thing like you having a fate like this. Anyway, thanks for the snack kid.” 

If it could wink, I think this is what it would’ve looked like. One eyelid slowly stuck close, before twitching twice like one of those old window-blinds that you’re fighting to open. Finally, it opened all the way, and that spotlight gaze was once again solely on me. It looked me over from head to hips, gaze predatory and hungry. Then, as if his time was up, it slunk off the couch. I could hear the bathroom door creak once more as the creature went back to wherever it came from. 

For a moment, the house was silent. Then, it felt like I was hit by a fucking truck. Lightning bolts of pain shot down my body, with the epicenter focused in my gut. I shot up, a strangled gasp caught in my throat as my hands immediately went to my stomach. I desperately tried to hold my guts in place, only to be met with soft skin. There was nothing there. No incision, no blood. I coughed loudly, sucking in breaths as I tried to come down from what had just happened.

I heard a low woof from the other side of the room, and shifted my gaze to see Momo trotting towards me. It seems whatever spell had settled over the house had ended, and as I reached out my hand to gesture Momo closer I shifted to be fully sitting. My body was lit up with pain still, and it seemed I would need to go retrieve more pain medication from the medicine cabinet once I could stand. 

Fuck me, I hope I get a diagnosis soon. Then, maybe that bastard would finally leave me alone.

#horror #original work #short story #horror story #fiction #tw body gore #tw body horror #TW gore #tw chronic illness #writeblr #monster #tw swearing

[easyharpsichord]

warm and cool, shadow and light

probably 50ish layers on this one ö

gave up on trying to get the right colours down in the first go bc i am no genius, and just threw on all the layer modes and csp brushes! it was fun, though a small part of me nagged, "isn't it cheating to use all these tools and fast tricks to get the contrasts and colours and textures you want?" to which i turn (to this jester) and say, "ok, but what the fuck is 'cheating', you wont? skill in art is not a blanket number, the fields of art are so varied. also, sure, this probably means your exp points in digital art are way above those you've earned for traditional art but that's just how it is because you've become a laptop artist, and if you want to up those points you just have to take out your paint palette." to which i also say, "okay, but i don't really want to, partly because i'm lazy, i will eventually but i still want to keep it fun and loose and whatever and whenever i want, and anyhow all this lets me control values while fiddling around with effects, and it's quite quick anyway all this, all the principles of good representational art i'm trying to learn do go all out of wack while i'm struggling with mediums i'm less experienced with like gouache -- though i do want to get better at that too...: all to say it's comfortable, for now at least, let me be!" to which i lastly say, pinching my arm, "jesus van, you really are a bore," and to which i lastly lastly say, "rather a nerd than a junkie, right?!" to which i finally really do say, "both are lost obsessed losers!" and to which i ultimately say, "don't call myself a loser," and to that i really finally terminally theatrically say, "it's better to be honest-- laugh about it, loser!" and we laugh and laugh on the front porch.

part of this mood comes from the fact that i am halfway through aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe and i cannot stop crying and it gave me the hardest bout of raw sob i've had in a long time and i'm grateful. the pov for now is from a 15 year old boy who is repressed and kind and a wiseass and hates himself and i just feel so tenderly for all of this. to know that i really did hate myself as a teen too even if not for all of it, even if i didn't have a dante. to hear that voice and all that shame echoed back at me, even if it's not quite the same, is so satisfying in a nostalgic sort of way, such a familiar wretchedness. the sort that quiets the plain rattling off the checkbox list of healthy ways to love yourself and heal because you know you must love the you that hated yourself, and to do so, letting her hate herself in her youth, hate hate hate and hate especially the vanilla frosting optimism i've come to (begrudgingly) adopt... validation in the specifics, always, even after -- especially after you think you've learned it all and come to roll your eyes at the pastel instagram infographics giving you tips on how to love yourself. and to think i started reading this book because i saw a rec on r/suggestmeabook a while back and i shrugged and added it not thinking much; opening it sleepily on the mrt today, and then being a a whole, whole watery mess even on the bus all the way back, and -- well. here i've gone again, speaking so much and so out of turn. except there are no turns and my room is my echo chamber, but underneath and in my bookshelves digital or not there are passages of wind in and out. and here i am, reading, drawing, writing on occasion - the creative's dream sabbatical some would say, and of course it looks the part; but on the whole, i really am just flummoxed, and flimsy, and i am grateful for books like this that help me to see it. i can't wait to finish the book - i probably will, quickly, after this

how much of all this verbosity is just my loneliness? i can say it, can't i? i lived for a while with someone who liked to mock sincere feelings, probably because they didn't need to come close to theirs and could probably go on without ever needing the effort. and i felt so insecure around them because they would make fun of so many attempts artists took to reveal themselves and said their imperfections and drama were so cringey. i really don't like that word now, cringey. for now, i think i'm taking step backwards to come to the simple statement of who i am, who hasn't changed much since fifteen. was only swept about, put in some good places and some bad, got really lost and confused and insecure. but always, well, secretly-- dramatic. slow. sensitive. penchant for it... for that which i am always trying to salvage while running up against the day-to-day, i think... one day-- one day i will have better words.

grateful that i can spill alongside art on this private little tumblr -- everything so autobiographical and spilling over for me

#art #clip studio paint #digital painting #illustration #portrait painting

[venom-system]

Hey, if you don't know how to answer this / you don't want to whatever feel free to delete this. But I've been questioning being an osdd system for about a year now, kind of. I'm not very preoccupied with it, I often forget about it actually until symptoms get more obvious again..? And even saying im questioning feels like making too big of a deal out of or sth, like I'm subconsciously faking all of this for attention or to be "special", even tho I don't really tell anyone and I don't ever would want an on record diagnosis anyways for safety / personal reasons ig...? This is the first time im reaching out about this aside from 2 very close friends/ a therapist who didn't seem to think I could have it based on my trauma ig and I'm very nervous tbh... But once in a while I'll do some research to compare it to symptoms I'm observing / beforehand id do research to better understand my did/osdd friends, and I have this question stuck in my head? If you're questioning, especially if you're unable to see a therapist etc about this for whatever reason, how do you differentiate between having osdd or bpd with anps and eps (those were the terms I kept reading in trauma research stuff anyways...), different dissociative disorders, literally all the other possible differential diagnoses...? and also, is it okay if I don't really want to care about all these labels anymore? Like if I don't really want an official diagnosis at all, and don't want to claim one without one either, where do I even fit..? Is it ok if by the end of this I figured out I have alters (sorry if that's not the right term?) and I want to participate in online spaces but still don't want to claim any of the diagnoses..?

I'm sorry this is a lot, but I feel so lost right now. I finally reached a place in life where I'm not going thru nearly constant trauma anymore (Tho I still live with someone who traumatized me a few yrs ago / let a lot of trauma happen as well ig), & tho I've been in therapy since I was 12 i only recently feel like I've been healing in any way or form...? Im 20 btw. And a lot of it has been achieved with abandoning psychiatric diagnoses I've been given/suspected over the years, but also discovering myself at the same time...?

But at the same time, the more I feel like I myself am stable, happy... symptoms keep coming that I can't explain. Voices mainly. But when I try to ask too many questions they always leave, and often it's hard to understand them anyways. They're mostly the same 2 reoccurring people with diff voices.... one older guy and a child... dissociation & derealization used to be super heavy daily but it finally got better, only when I get triggered kinda badly now it happens... i don't have access to many trauma memories/ I sometimes gain and loose access to certain parts of the memories & I don't feel emotions about them at all 99% of the time, & when I do they feel more like emotional flashbacks if that makes sense? A lot of the traumatic years in my life are mostly blacked out for me, aside from a few sparse memories.. im told of conversations I had very recently when I'm being told, that I have zero memory of, despite remembering (most) of that day... i rarely find art or writing I don't recognise... I used to struggle with a lot of diff stuff as a teenager (ed, sh, catatonia, heavy mood swings, depressive & psychotic episodes) but I finally got a lot of it under control... and I can't believe my trauma in childhood would be strong enough to cause my personality to not be? One? On top of all that If that..? how do i know I don't make them up...? And if it isn't sth like osdd, what does that mean about the voices I hear inside my head sometimes? Are they not real? I'm just. So confused.. i want to just ignore it like I've been mostly trying to apart from a few bouts of interest/ confusion but I just don't know where to go from here? I've been writing about symptoms in my diary when they happen (at least I try to remember to?) But I feel stuck? I want this to go away but it won't...i feel like all I can do is wait, but then I forget about it again until I suddenly hear someone, or suddenly realise I have no idea what I did the last 30 mins ish, and my partner tells me about conversations "we" had in that time I don't remember at all.... Usually just casual stuff, but it's like I jumped in time for short bits. And then I feel so weird and lost again... I genuinely feel ashamed even sending this, I tried talking about this with my therapist but she mostly didn't seem to want to talk about it....

I just went thru this message and tried editing typos and all, and edit stuff to make it.. make sense ig because I know it's very rambly and I barely understand it myself- and it so long and I'm very sorry... this is my third try and sending a coherent ask and its hard to do because whenever I more or less seriously think about this topic for longer than a few minutes my body tenses up and I slightly dissociate and I get kinda uncomfortable and my thoughts start to become kinda unorganized and uh... I just hope this isn't annoying you and feel free to not answer this if its too much/ too rambly whatever I'd totally understand it also I'm still terribly afraid I'm somehow obviously imagining this all or making it up or just not understanding stuff correctly or something..

Hey,

That's a lot so let's take it step by step.

First part of your post says that you don't want a diagnosis and you also mentioned your therapist who thinks you are not DID/OSDD system. You want to know if it's ok to be a part of DID/OSDD community even if you don't want to prove anything to you.

It's important to undestand yourself even if you don't care about labels.

It's ok if you decided to take a step back and focus on yourself than how to name your disorder.

However, for some reasons you are asking about it so you seem resigned to the situation and that's something what I'm afraid of.

The thing you should know is- you are welcome here. Even if you are not sure about what's going on with you, even if you want to give up for now.

I think you disagree with your specialist, so it is important that you seek the advice of someone else. To make sure he's wrong/right.

Generally it is good to reach a few people sometimes to express their opinion about your mental state, but I know it's time consuming.

it's also normal to think that you are doing something for attention but it's not true.

How you wrote- you talked about it with your 2 friends, specialist and me (by anonymouse question) so it doesn't have sense even if your brain tells something different.

In next part you said about your symptoms, you are wondering if your trauma was enough to have any disorder cost by it and you wrote that you are ok at the moment.

- voices

- dissociation

- derealisation

- amnesia

- ed

- sh

- catatonia

- heavy mood swings

- depressive and psychotic episodes

Don't be ashamed of who you are. Your brain has a problem and the people who caused it should be ashamed. Not you. You did everything to survive and you did great.

Your trauma makes you feel this way. Because of your trauma you expercience dissociation, derealisation and amnesia.

That's enough. You are valid. You've been through a lot.

Even if you feel like are ok at the moment you need to work hard on yourself. It's not okay, but that's the impression you get.

With the symptoms you mentioned you need intensive care and... diagnosis.

Your amnesia, mood swings, depressive and psychotic episodes, voices can be extremely dangerous. Not for others. For you.

(you didn't mention if you were taking any medications btw)

Last part:

Don't worry about your message. I undestood everything and we had the same problem to answer you so sorry it took us so long. I hope you are ok and please, let us know how are you doing.

I'm proud of you for sending this message.

I don't know if it's DID/OSDD, It can be, it can also be other mental problem.

I don't know what voices are telling you. Is it something bad, is it something that make sense? Are they talking to you or maybe they are talking with each other?

How do you feel when they are talking? How long does it take? How often do the voices appear?

For how long you feel okay?

The answers to these questions tell a lot.

Thank you for your question, thank you for open up. Once again- I'm proud you did it and hope you will let us know soon.

We are always here for you if you want to talk or ask a question.

Sorry for my mistakes, I will check this message tomorrow.

I'm sorry we didn't answer earlier.

Thank you again, stay safe and strong (as always)

- Cornell

#osdd support #osdd1b #osdd #osdd tag #osdd problems #osdd symptoms #cornell #did #did system #osdd 1b #otherwise specified dissociative disorder #other specified dissociative disorder #mental disorder #system #did support #osdd system #dissociative identity disorder #dissociativeidentitydisorder #dissociative disorder #dissociation #dissociative amnesia #amnesia #trauma #symptoms

[fandom-blackhole]

Darling, it's not me who is trying to kill you! It's just that the buckets are too skkskskhsslsk 🥵

Paz and you playing hide and seek in the forest?

He'd go 100% soldier on a mission mode and find you in no time,

''Looks like I found my precious target'' ,

You being all smol and scaweed 🥺😫,

Then he goes apeshit, wrestling you so hard against the tree that it'd leave marks on your back,

If you were camping in the mountains, he'd pack the tiniest tent and sleeping bag possible to stay as close as it'd be possible,

Paz thinks when you are with him there is no personal space,

Omg, you on top of him, being pounded mercilessly as he'd trap you so hard with his hands around your back,

He'd also press his palm against THE BULGE and nut instantly after he felt your pussy gripping his dick,

Okay, let's stop because, dear god we 'bout to bust, aren't we?

One day you decided to surprise Paz at his work,

You sneaked to the kitchen by the back entrance and hugged him from behind,

He'd slowly turn to face you big smile plastered on his face,

Until he saw what you were wearing,

You put on this baby blue flowy dress,

''Sweetheart, you are looking like a snacc''

My lovely little cupcake, might as well eat you here and now''

He just lifted you with one hand like you weighted nothing and sat you on a counter,

He quickly got rid of your panties (he totally stole them from you because he loves your taste and smell) and was eating you out like a starved man,

Even tho he was cooking all the time, he'd always be hungry for you,

You trying to cover your mouth with your hands so his employees and dinners wouldn't hear you,

But he was fast ro grab your hands and just chuckle saying

''Sweetness, I am the ownere here, right? So let me hear these pretty noises of yours, let people know how good I make you feel''

DID I SAY WE NEED TO CHILL OUT? GUESS I CAN'T STOP MYSELF SORRY

Din would text you through the day and it's a mix between:

''Good morning, my sweet girl, Did you sleep well?'', ''Baby, remember to eat your breakfast'', ''Have you drink enough water today?'',

''Daddy, can't wait to get back home to you'', ''Babygirl, my dick is painfully hard right know, been thinkin' too much about your pretty, little pussy'',

Din is a SHY 😊 and sweet mean, he loves being silly with his class, but the daddy thing makes him wild,

Din you better wash out your mouth with a soap lol,

When you visited him and Grogu to catch up with them, he couldn't keep his cool,

Seeing you playing with Grogu and being so motherly towards the kid sparked something in Din,

When Grogu settled for his afternoon nap, Din would grab you and pin you against the wall, one hand resting on your chest the other tucking hair behind your ear, growling in this rich chocolate timber:

''Sweet girl, you have no idea what you do to daddy'',

But when you innocently sit in his lap in public, he gets all shy and blushy, hesitantly resting his hands on your thighs,

Umm dirty secret? He once stole your white bra and used it to relieve himself when you were away 🤭,

Don't wear low-cut clothing around him or he'd end up crashing into something or landing on his ass,

9/10 times you'd catch him trying to sneak a glance at your tiddies and being all embarrassed when caught,

Giving him a tiddy job but being also able to succ his tip too because he is so well-endowed, Din.exe has stopped working, nutted to death,

If there were more buckedheads I don't know if we could keep on writing these,

Boba lives off his authority and power,

You wanting to keep your relationship professional impressed him a lot,

You weren't another young, stupid girl chasing after his money,

There was going to be another charity event, he send you a beautiful Tiffany choker to pair up with your outfit,

He almost came in his suit pants, when he noticed you giving a speech at the event, wearing his present,

After you were done speaking, he came up to you and the group of other attendees you were talking with,

'' Miss, your speech was really touching and thoughtful '' you instantly feelt so proud, being praised for your hard work in front of all of these people, cheerfully smiling at him,

Before you had time to respond, he got closer to you, smirk crawling up on his face and whispered:

'' Also, this necklace suits you so nicely, princess''

You just got flustered and said to him:

'' Thank you, sir'' while bitting your lower lip,

Well next thing you knew, you were being kidnapped to the parking lot, Boba literally throwing you onto backsit of his car,

Thank God you decided to wear garters and stocking that night

I have nothing more left to say. - 🐣

This AU is just getting better and better, you are such a genius...

Hid and seek with Paz 3729201/10, best fucking idea

Paz just goes absolutely ape shit watching his cock buldge out your belly

Paz stealing your panties whenever he can 😭😭😭

Paz does not understand personal space when it comes to you

He HAS to be touching you in some way when you are around

Holding your hand, hand around you waist, arm around your shoulder, slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans

When he first sat next to you in your booth at his restaurant and your thighs touched, his heart soared when you didn't pull away from him

Paz and yours first date, was really like your 12th, but Paz took you to a strawberry farm

Held the baskets as you picked the fruit, constantly telling you that you picked the best berries

After he bought a bottle of strawberry wine, which the two of you shared over a small dinner that he made

Then the next thing you knew you both were on your couch, you on his lap, having a very heated make out session

Which lead to Paz picking you up and carrying you to your bedroom, where the two of you had a very passionate and intense wrestling session

Now, Din, my sweet himbo

He gets soooo flustered with PDA

You once kissed his cheek in front of some people, and you could almost see his brain short circuiting

Din constantly checking on you throughout the day 🥺🥺🥺

He always calls on his lunch break, just to talk with you and see how your day is going and talk about his class

One day when you came to check on Grogu at school, the rest of the kids convinced you to read to them during playtime

Din had to sit behind his desk for a while because just seeing you like that made him so hard

That night he wrestled with you until he passed out

Din once asked if he could keep his cock inside of you all night long

You woke up aching and leaking from how many times the two of had cum during the night

Din had moaned when he woke up and just spulled you under him for an early morning wrestling match

Now for Boba....

Boba always makes sure that you have some kind of present waiting for you in the mornings

Flowers, clothes, jewelry, a five star breakfast, himself

Boba totally gets you the prettiest tiara for his princess

Everything you own soon becomes namebrand, because only the best for his little

The first time Boba seen you wearing one of his gifts he had dragged you into the closest empty room, and left you marked and jelly legged

Boba totally gets you a custom gun for you to carry around for safety

Its inscribed with little one

Boba likes to always have your neck covered in hickies so that people know who you belong too

Boba took you to an art show once and every painting you showed interest in he bought for you

Don't mention liking any famous painters because he will get his hands on an original piece for you

Sorry its not much but these boys are driving me up the wall....

(SEND ME THOTS!!!!)

#🐣 anon #modern au #din djarin x reader #din x reader #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #paz vizsla x reader #paz x reader

[eroticcannibal]

Common myths and misconceptions about home education

So in case anyone has somehow missed it, I have recently become a Big supporter of home education in a very lefty way, which has meant I have had to challenge a lot of views I have previously held about home education and that I know a lot of other lefties hold too. I am of the opinion that embracing home education, not as a last resort, but as the primary form of education for as many children as possible, is a vital part of achieving the required shifts in society needed to meet the goals of most leftists. So I am taking it on myself to convince you all that it is a very good thing, and also to clear up some misconceptions people have about home education that may make them feel they are unable to do it.

(A note, I am from the UK and shall be using UK terminology and specifics regarding law, policy and other such things will be from a UK perspective. I shall be using the term home education, as that is the legal term in the UK and is distinct from home schooling, which is the term for what school children have been doing during the pandemic.)

And I would also like to extend a quick thanks to Education Otherwise and the mods at Home education and your local authority for teaching me A LOT.

Have any questions about anything I’ve not covered here? Just let me know!

1. “Home education is illegal.”

- Sadly, home education is illegal or restricted to the point of inaccessibility in most of the world. From the research I have done, it seems that only the US and the UK have reasonable laws around home education (if I am using a very broad definition of reasonable, it is still not great). I do hope I can change this section soon, and I would *heavily* encourage people to campaign for the right to home educate post pandemic, perhaps cite any benefits learning at home has provided to children, perhaps???

2. “Home education is a tool used by religious fundamentalists to brainwash children!”

- This is a view many hold, and for good reason. For many of us, when we think of home education, we think of christian fundamentalists in the deep south of America, pulling their children out of school to avoid the liberal agenda. The truth is, anything can be used as a tool of indoctrination. This can happen in home education, and it can happen and has happened in schools too. In my own communities we have had instances of schools being a site of religious radicalization of children. The reality is this is far too complex and deep an issue to be solved by deeming any particular form of education as “bad”. I am not an expert on how best to deal with such issues, but I do feel that things like outreach and building a healthy community with otherwise more isolated religious groups would be a better way to address these issues.

3. “You need to have x qualification to home educate.”

- Again, a reasonable view to hold, given that state run and private education does require educators to hold certain qualifications, but in practice it quickly becomes evident the same does not necessarily have to apply with home education. Educational qualifications are very much focused on delivering an education in a classroom, which is a far cry from home education. During our home education of our child, my partner, who is a qualified SEN TA, has struggled far more than I have with educating our SEN child, despite the fact I hold no qualifications.

We live in amazing times when it comes to education. There are many things that parents and communities have to teach a child, and there are many things a child can teach to themself if given the tools to do so. You can even learn together! Their are endless resources available, books and games and documentaries, and even home education groups and private tutors if you feel that is the right fit for your child. You don’t need a piece of paper for your child to spend a day with their nose buried in a book, or to help the neighbor with his vegetable patch, or to cuddle up on the sofa while watching Planet Earth.

4. “You are required to follow the national curriculum.”

- This does vary by country (that allows home education). As a general rule, the stricter a country is about who can home educate, the stricter they are about what must be taught. In the UK, you are not required to follow the national curriculum. Education must be “efficient” and suited to the child’s “age, aptitude and ability”, and LAs do require that english and maths are covered. Other than that, you are allowed to tailor the content of education to the child and their interests. We have recently dropped geography for now and are only just picking up history again. It has also given us the freedom to focus on areas our child needs that would not be covered in mainstream education, such as anxiety management, trauma processing, self care and hygiene.

5. “Home education looks like school/is just filling out workbooks/etc”

- The thing you will always hear from experienced home educators when you begin home education is “home education doesn’t need to be school at home”. Much like you can tailor the content of the learning to the child, you can also tailor the delivery to the child. Some child need structure, timetable, instructions. Some need freedom and to bounce between topics. Some need to have an hour learning maths and only maths, some need to go dig up your garden “for science”. Some want to learn every day, some will need extended breaks.

Learning happens all the time, from the moment they wake to the moment they sleep. As an example, at home we have some workbooks, as both me and my child have ADHD and need someone to go “ok learn this” rather than us having to work out for ourselves what we need to cover for core subjects like english and maths. For the rest of most days my child is left to their own devices to binge youtube and netflix and work on their art. We try and go for a woodland walk every few days, where we have Deep Discussions about all kinds of topics, and we are also working on growing edible plants and baking cakes from around the world. We are more hands-off at the moment, due to the current bout of anxiety, but when that settles again we will get back to history themed crafts and STEM activities. Post-pandemic, we will be signing our kid up for swimming classes and “after school” clubs, and looking at sending them down to my mum for the home ed groups where she lives, like the forest school. A lot of home education outside of a pandemic is in groups and community based, or will make use of libraries and museums and other public learning opportunities. Frequently very little will happen at home.

In fact many home educators will advise new families to “deschool” for a while before jumping in to learning. This is a period where you “get school out of your system”, and just exist. Learning does not have to be intentional, you will be surprised how much you can achieve by just having fun.

6. “Home education is expensive.”

- It can be, ask my bank account. However, it is perfectly possible to deliver a quality education with little to no money. I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s doable. Their are many online resources for free (check out oak academy), and libraries have plenty available too. Even paid resources can be very cheap if you know where to look. (psst, if your kid thrives with worksheets and powerpoints, get yourself a twinkl subscription, download everything you need for a year then cancel it.)

(This does not apply to exams. Get saving!)

7. “Home educated children are not properly socialised.”

- This is only really true during the pandemic. The rest of the time, home educated children are free to socialise whenever they want, with whoever they want, in whatever setting they choose. Socialisation while home educating is in the opinions of many of a higher quality, as they are not limited to groups of a similar age and background. Many home educating families form groups for their children to socialise together too. For ND children especially, socialising while home educated can be far less stressful and far more fulfilling than in school.

8. “Home educated children won’t get qualifications.”

- Just plain not true. Arranging qualifications can be costly and time consuming, but it is possible and regularly done. Some children may return to school or college to access exams for free, and I have heard of a handful of cases where individuals were able to secure prestigious university places without any qualifications. Home education also allows for more freedom with how exams and qualifications are approached, for example, many home educated children will pick one GCSE to focus on at a time, rather than covering numerous topics over 2 years and having exams for all of them at once like children in school will.

9. “Home education is a safeguarding risk/is used to cover up abuse/home educated children are not seen.”

- In the UK at least, home education is not considered a safeguarding risk, no matter what authorities may tell you, nor are home educated “not seen”. They still visit medical professionals, they still engage with their communities.

Now I shall add the relevant paper here should I find it again, but the idea that home education is used to cover up abuse to a statistically significant degree, or that home educated children are at more risk of abuse, is false. Home educating families do face a significantly higher risk of social services involvement than other families, but far less abuse is found in comparison to other families. It is also worth considering, when talking about social services involvement, that many families pursue home education due to failures by schools regarding a child’s vulnerabilities. In most cases, especially the Big Ones, where a home educated child is abused, the child was already known to authorities as a victim of abuse, therefore home educating did nothing to hide said abuse.

Children are also routinely abused in schools, which is another common reason for home educating.

10. “Home education has to be monitored or approved.”

- Depends on the country, I know in Japan home education is monitored by schools, however in the UK, monitoring is not lawful. Local authorities may make informal enquiries to ensure a suitable education is being facilitated (keep EVERYTHING in writing and please go straight to “home education and your local authority” group on FB for advice, you WILL need it!). In England, if your child is in mainstream education, you can deregister at will, from a special school will require LA approval. In Scotland deregistering requires LA approval. (Again, head to the aforementioned group for advice).

11. “You can’t work/get an education while home educating”

- It is hard to balance work, education and educating your child, but it is possible, people do it every day. Obviously, having at least one parent free to educate unhindered at all times is an ideal situation, but in the real world it often does not work that way. Parents may have to home educate regardless of their other commitments if a child truly needs to escape the school system. Many parents work or learn from home, and sometimes it is even possible to combine these activities with home education. Professional artists and crafters can pass down their skills while working, distance learners can invite their children to sit in on lectures. The really great thing about home education is it is flexible. Do you have a whole day of meetings? Let the kid play minecraft all day! Going to be in the office all day? Drop the kid off at the local forest school or something else they can do all day. Drop them with the grandparents to help with the gardening!

12. “Home educated are behind/achieve less than school children.”

- Their is no evidence that home education is of a lower quality than school education. Many children are home educated specifically because the school environment was detrimental to their education, and thrive with home education. Plenty of children are able to learn more simply by having 1-to-1 attention, without the distraction of an entire class. And others may well be “behind”, and are educated at home because of their specific needs that mean they will never thrive in an academic setting, so they are allowed to focus on learning skills that will allow them to live independently.

#word of god #home education

[earlysunsetsoverambrose]

Fool For You (2/4)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader 

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Part 2 of a request for @mynameisliterallycash!

When Lester said he was getting dog food, you figured he meant one or two small bags. Instead, you watched as he hefted two huge bulk bags of food over his shoulder. They each had to weigh around fifty pounds and he carried them like they were nothing. Your eyes widened as your jaw dropped, awestruck by the casual display of muscle.

Dazed still, you trailed after him to the checkout. While he made idle chatter with the clerk, he was completely unaware you were wrapped up in an entirely different check out of your own. Heat rose to your cheeks, allured by Lester’s physical strength as daydreams of him literally sweeping you off your feet flooded your thoughts. He turned around, snapping you back to reality as you tried to wipe the dopey expression off your face.

“Alright then, ya ready to –” Lester stopped short, sending you a puzzled look, “Hey are ya okay?”

“What? Of course, I am. Why are you asking?” you responded rapidly, embarrassed you’d been caught staring a third time.

“Ya sure? Ya look a little red. Ya ain’t gettin’ sick or nothin’, are ya?” Lester said concerned. He reached out his free hand and pressed its back against your forehead, “Don’t feel like ya got a fever.”

“N-no, I’m fine,” you stuttered, his hand against your head sending static through your brain as you tried to come up with an excuse, “It’s just from the cold air today, I think.”  

“Okay, if ya say so.” Lester shrugged as he gestured for you to follow him out the door. You cleared your throat, thankful for the gust of wind that cooled the fire trapped in your face.  

“You sure you don’t need help with those?” you asked.  

“These? Nah, they ain’t so bad,” Lester responded, “You oughta see some of the bucks I gotta haul ‘round. Damn things weigh a ton! Nearly threw out my back once tryin’ to throw one on the truck.”

“Never knew you were a regular strongman. I guess it never occurred to me the deer can’t carry their own dead weight.” You said with growing admiration.

“That’s what I’m there for!” Lester said gleefully as he tossed the bags in the back. He closed the bed and rested against the truck as he crossed his arms.

“Well, thanks for taking me along for the ride, anyway.” You said, leaning next to him.

“Sure thing! I love bringin’ ya ‘long like this,” Lester told you, affectionately nudging you with his elbow, “I’ll tell ya, havin’ someone to talk to wouldn’t hurt during my day job neither. Might go a long way makin’ some of the time go by. Gets a little too quiet drivin’ ‘round all day all by myself.”

“Well, would you mind if I tagged along once in a while?” you proposed, looking up at him.

“Ya’d do that? I mean, ya’d really want to?” Lester asked excitedly, “It can get kinda gnarly.”

“Sure. Why not? Can’t be any gnarlier than Bo on a bad day. It’s got to be better than sitting around getting old in Ambrose.” You said, smiling back at him.

“Ya really don’t have to, if ya don’t want.” He said, giving you the option changing your mind.

“I know I don’t, but I would really like to go with you. That is, if you don’t mind.” You could practically see him vibrating with joy.

“Mind? Course I don’t mind! We’re gonna have so much fun together, I promise! Thanks, Y/N! You’re the best!” he exclaimed, elated. He jumped up from the truck and wrapped you up in a tight hug, swinging you back and forth. You couldn’t contain you laughter, even if you couldn’t breathe with the way he was squeezing you.

Lester set you back down, leaving you with only a ghost of the feeling of his warm embrace. You lingered in place trying to memorize the sensation while he went ahead to open the passenger door for you without a second thought. Once you were seated, he closed the door and got back in beside you. He threw you a carefree smile as you took off once again.

The two of you made lighthearted conversation on the way back to Lester’s cabin. You started going back and forth about the art of catching various animals that try to make a home in your garbage. Well, it was mostly Lester walking you through the process, breaking it down by species. You listened to how he had basically mastered the art of pest wrangling without killing them. Your heart swelled hearing how insistent he was that killing them wasn’t necessary. He never wanted to hurt anyone or anything if he could help it.

You were just about to ask him a question, when he abruptly hit the brakes. You both lurched forward before falling back into your seats. You glanced around, collecting yourself from the sudden stop.

“Is everything okay? Why’d you stop?” He didn’t answer, as he began to carefully scan your surroundings, “What are you looking for? Lester?”  

“There she is!” Lester shouted, pressing his face up against his window, totally distracted from your questions. He smiled back at you over his shoulder, “Follow me!” He threw his door open without another word and jumped out, anxiously waiting for you to join him.

“Follow you where? Wait for me!” you called after him. You swiftly slid out of the car and onto the ground, clueless as to why you stopped here of all places. Lester darted ahead, chasing something you couldn’t see. You did your best to follow close, but he ducked down into the grass. You jogged to where he disappeared to find him on his knees, reveling in an assault of kisses from a delighted stray dog. Surprise took over your features, thrilled to be meeting a new friend.

“I missed ya too, girl!” Lester gasped through his uncontrollable laughter, echoing through the woods, “Ya been good a doggy? I bet ya have! Hope ya ain’t been too lonely out here!”

“Who’s this, Lester?” you asked in gentle voice, immediately enamored with the dog before you. She was about Jonesy’s size, with a blonde shaggy coat. She looked young with energy and enthusiasm that gave Lester a run for his money.

“Oh, Y/N! I’d like ya to meet Buttercup!” Lester said as he separated himself from the dog’s abundance of affection, “Buttercup, this is my friend Y/N!”

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Buttercup.” You said as you got down to offer your hand for a sniff. Buttercup took a few whiffs before deciding you were in fact a friend. Her tail wagged back and forth as she allowed you to pet her as well, “She’s so cute, Lester!”

“I know! Ain’t she the sweetest?” Lester concurred, “I found her snoozin’ in a patch of buttercups, so that’s what I started callin’ her!”

“How long has she been here?” you asked, scratching Buttercup behind the ears as she jumped up to rest her front paws on Lester’s shoulders, licking his face once more.

“A while now, I see a few strays runnin’ ‘round while I’m workin’. So, I try and visit with ‘em, if I can. But I left some bowls to fill when I’m on my route, case they get hungry.” Lester managed to gesture to an empty bowl a few feet away from you despite being smothered by more kisses. That explained the industrial sized bags of food. “Speaking of which – you hungry, Buttercup?” she barked in response.

Lester grabbed the bowl and jogged back to the truck to fill it with Buttercup in tow. Your eyes followed after him, the dopey look returning to your face. He conversed with Buttercup like an old friend as he scooped out her food. He was so attentive and kind, listening to her response and matching her excitement. They made their way back to you, thick as thieves. Lester set the bowl down when he made it back next to you, petting Buttercup while she dug into her meal, “Now, don’t eat so fast ya get sick, there’s plenty where that came from. Ole Lester’s got ya covered.”

You let out a deep sigh, endeared by the scene before you. Lester treated every person and creature with such consideration and care; and he never asked for anything in return. He had so much love in his heart and he was willing to share it with anyone who wanted it. With as much as he gives to everyone else, you wondered if anyone had ever told him how much they care about him or appreciate his presence in their life. He deserved to have someone who could give him back all the love he put into the world.

You wanted to be the one. You would finally treat him right. He all but stole your heart and he deserved to hear it from you, even if he might not feel the same. The consequences suddenly didn’t seem to matter so much in this moment. You wanted him to know how important he really was to you, because everyone deserves to know they are loved. You needed to tell him now while you were brave enough.

“Lester, there’s something I need to tell you.” You started, heartbeat racing in your ears, drowning out all the doubt and second thoughts. He perked up, listening close.

“Ya can tell me anythin’, Y/N. Ya know that.” Lester said softly, that warm smile pulling at your heartstrings again.

“Lester…I lo–” a deafening crack of thunder cut you off. With that, Buttercup hightailed it back into hiding. You gasped as you stood, starting after her, worried she may get lost or hurt in the impending storm. You moved to run after her, “Oh no, Buttercup, wait!”

“Hold up, Y/N! Ya can’t catch her, believe me, I tried.” Lester called to stop you, “I tried gettin’ her in the truck a few times to go to a shelter, but she don’t like it. If she ain’t ready to go, we can’t make her. She’ll come ‘round when she’s ready.”

“But we can’t just leave her out here.” You said, searching the area for any sign of her.

“Don’t worry ‘bout her too much, she’s a survivor.” Lester said, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “’Sides she’s got a little hideout not far from here. I found her there a couple times and left a few blankets after makin’ sure it wouldn’t cave in on her. It’ll keep her nice and dry ‘til this blows over. Alright? She’ll be safe, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, almost tearing up at the thought of her shivering somewhere all by herself.

“Sure as my name is Lester Sinclair. We can even come check on her tomorrow, if ya like.” Lester offered, “But we really oughta get outta here ‘fore the rain starts.”

“Okay,” you said hesitantly, “Promise we can check on her?”

“Yes ma’am, I swear. Cross my heart.” Lester assured you, drawing an X over his chest.

You both started toward the truck once more. You silently cursed the weather for interrupting your confession. The moment had passed and the doubts had returned to their work. Despite this, the affection swelling in your chest still pulled you to act on some part of it.

Without thinking too hard for once, you took Lester’s hand in yours. He glanced down to your linked hands and then back at you.

“Are ya scared of thunder storms?” He asked curiously.

“No. Why?” You responded, confused where he got that idea.

“Ya just look a little nervous is all. Thought ya might not like thunder or somethin’.” Lester explained, “I know storms used to scare the hell outta me when I was a kid. Never used to like ‘em one bit, ‘specially if I was by myself.”

“No, I kind of like storms.” You told him.

“Oh, then are your hands cold or somethin’?” Lester asked, gesturing with your connected hands, trying to understand the reason for the spontaneous handholding.

“Uh, well, not exac–”

“Cause ya look a little rosy again. Just makin’ sure ya ain’t gettin’ frostbite or nothin’.” He interjected.

“No, I’m okay.” You told him with your hundredth sigh of the day.

“Well, just in case. Take this.” He said as he released your hand and took off his hat to pull it over your eyes with a chuckle. He readjusted it on your head, revealing the way he was beaming at you. You rarely got to see him without his trusty hat. Even with his hair being a little sweaty and sticking every which way, it was still ridiculously tempting to run your fingers through. The energy radiating from him was so wholesome and pure. Looking at him, you could swear the clouds lifted and the sun was shining all of a sudden. He squeezed your cheeks in his hands, with a laugh, “There, now ain’t that better! Nice and toasty.”

“T-thanks, Les.” You stuttered, reaching up to feel the soft fabric of his hat, the heat in your cheeks only growing more intense under his hold on your face.

 “My pleasure! I gotta say ya look mighty cute right now. Helluva lot better than I ever looked.” He told you, releasing your face and patting you on the back, “Now, let’s make like Buttercup and get to shelter!”

You made it back to the truck right before the heavy rain started pouring down. Lester took off down the road again, toward his cabin. You watched through the window as the storm raged on outside, matching the storm in your mind. The time had felt so right to tell Lester everything, but now you weren’t sure. What you were sure of, however, is that you needed to tell him soon. You thought you might actually burst if you didn’t. You couldn’t keep living like this.      

#lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #Female reader #House of Wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #My writing #tw: cursing #fool for you #request

[ampleappleamble]

—

It was worth it.

The arduous trudge up the mountainside, the stares and whispers from strangers and crewmates alike, Ydwin's snarky little jabs, stripping to his skivvies and getting poked and prodded and scrubbed down with everyone watching– Hel, even going as far back as sailing to the Dead Floe in the first place, or following the Watcher through the White Void– it was totally, completely, absolutely worth going through all of it just to be here, now, in this perfumed paradise of a bath. Now all Vatnir had to do was find a way to never have to leave.

A gentle slosh of water at his shoulder told him he had a visitor, but he was in such bliss that he found he couldn't be bothered to open his eyes to see who it was. Luckily, Aloth's voice identified him readily enough. "Enjoying the baths, are we?" He could hear the amused smirk on the wizard's face, but the Godlike couldn't have cared less.

"It's incredible," Vatnir moaned, submerged up to his chin in the shimmering water. And it was. It was quite literally the best he could ever remember feeling. He'd never felt so relaxed, bobbing lazily in liquid warmth, his joints throbbing with relief as the burden of his body's weight was lifted from them. The short walk from the washing nook to the baths themselves had been a delicate and harrowing affair, and the temperature of the water had frightened him when he'd first stepped in. But by the time he'd waded in up to his chest, he'd begun to wonder if this was what being in love felt like.

A warm chuckle flowed into Vatnir's ears, tingled as it trickled down his spine. "Ordinarily I'd be loathe to say I told you so, but in this case I might just have to break that personal policy," Aloth teased gently. "Although now that I'm over here, I notice the water's gone a bit cool on this side. Perhaps I should say something to the stewards..."

"Don't bother. It's probably just me." Vatnir had always been told that as the progeny of the Beast of Winter, Rymrgand had gifted him some innate power over entropy, making him able to encourage decay on a whim. And he could, but only on non-living things that were already on the decline: he'd amused himself many times in his grim, lonely adolescence by willing Valbrendhür's rapidly cooling ekkevít down to room temperature, or commanding the old man's smoldering pipe to snuff out. He hadn't consciously chosen to cool the bathwater around him– he couldn't remember having done so, anyway– but then, he didn't consciously choose to give those who spent too much time around him head colds or nausea either. It just happened, and he had learned long ago not to question it, but to simply resign himself to the consequences of his nature.

Of course, he explained none of this to Aloth, who merely smiled awkwardly and changed the subject. "Axa really did only want to help you, you know. She's a kind and generous woman, but her enthusiasm can, at times, blind her to the smaller details. Like the fact that you were utterly miserable back there, under all that scrutiny." The look of pity on the other man's face would have bothered him ordinarily, but Vatnir found he couldn't really blame Aloth for feeling how he did. He had probably been quite a sight at first: skinny and shivering, swaddled in filthy bandages, eyes darting to and fro like a caged animal.

"I understand, I suppose," the priest sighed, watching his crewmates frolic and splash on the opposite side of the pool. "And I do appreciate your... uh, intervention. Tekēhu was correct in pointing out that we who are chosen by the gods are rarely allowed to choose for ourselves. I'm used to simply enduring misfortune and discomfort, not speaking my mind when it regards... well, myself, my wants."

Aloth hummed thoughtfully, and Vatnir tried– and failed– not to let his gaze wander over the other man, his beautiful body, his elegant face. "A position I'm not entirely unfamiliar with myself, I'm afraid, despite my lack of divine heritage– although the nobility of Aedyr certainly seem to fancy themselves on the same level as the gods more often than not." He chuckled at his own joke, saw that Vatnir was not laughing, cleared his throat, continued. "Axa is a very strong-willed woman, more than decisive enough for all of us, and at times her intensity can make her a bit... intimidating. But she is more sensitive and open-hearted than one might think, and one can always count on her to listen, to try to understand, and to make things right to the best of her ability." The elf smiled fondly, turned to regard the little woman lounging in the water some distance away, smoking and chatting happily with Pallegina. "She did for me, after all."

Vatnir was still debating whether it was appropriate to press for details– and realizing he might actually find Aloth more attractive than the Watcher– when he felt the bizarre sensation of the waters suddenly twisting and roiling around him; warm, invisible tendrils wound around his limbs and slithered across his chest and belly, lifting and caressing and tickling him. He started to cry out in surprise, but somewhere along the way it transformed into an odd little giggle, the sound made all the stranger by it coming from himself, of all kith.

Aloth crossed his arms over his chest and sighed impatiently. "Really, Tekēhu, we were trying to have a conversation–"

"Is that so? Ekera, he doesn't seem to mind the interruption." The Watershaper grinned mischievously, and with a flick of his wrist, the current carried Vatnir to his side. "Besides, I figured the waters could use some churning. It's gotten a bit cold on this side, wouldn't you say?" He winked down at the priest, flashing that gorgeous grin of his, and Vatnir felt as though his brains had been transmuted into porridge.

The wizard opened his mouth to say something, but upon looking at Vatnir– at the bruise-colored blush spreading over his sternum and clavicle, the furtive glance cast in Tekēhu's direction– he thought better of it and said something else instead. "Well. I've finished saying my piece, anyway, so... I'll leave you gentlemen to it, shall I?" He flashed a strange, knowing smile at the pair of Godlikes and turned away, wading across the bath and back into Axa's inviting company.

Leaving the two of them, Tekēhu and Vatnir, alone. Together. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods–

"May I?" The Marine Godlike gestured, and the water around them surged and swelled and pushed the two men to the side of the bathing pool, depositing Tekēhu with his back up against the tiled wall and Vatnir directly in front of him. Huge hands settled on his rickety shoulders, and Tekēhu squeezed gently, eliciting a soft, surprised gasp from the priest.

He felt the low rumble of Tekēhu's laughter vibrating in his chest, making little ripples in the water that rose goosebumps on Vatnir's skin. "Konstanten has been instructing me in the arts of relieving tension by way of massage," he murmured, "and if you don't mind my saying so, you look very tense indeed. Especially in the neck and shoulders. Just how much do your horns weigh, my friend?"

Vatnir felt as though his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, but he managed to stammer that he didn't really know. "It's not– I've never... uh, weighed them, or anything. Can't exactly remove them and put them on the scale. If only I could, I'd never put them back on again." What endearing banter, Vatnir. Go ahead and just kill the mood entirely, why don't you?

If Tekēhu was put off at all, he certainly didn't show it. Instead, his strong, steady hands worked the smaller man's shoulders, kneading the knots in his muscles and taking care to avoid the sores. "An understandable complaint, I say. They don't make it easy for us, do they, our heavenly patrons?" His thumb slid slowly over the nape of the priest's neck, and he couldn't help but grin triumphantly at the subsequent groan of pleasure. "Although, some of us do seem to have it a bit easier than others."

"You're telling me," Vatnir chuckled, starting to get his bearings back. "Some of us get tentacles and bioluminescence, some get feathers and hawk's eyes– and I get this." He gesticulated disparagingly at his withered, broken form, fingers trembling and numb.

"Come now,  it's not as bad as all that, is it?" The aumaua leaned down close to murmur in Vatnir's ear, his breath warming the elf's sallow cheek. "Word has it your Father... endowed you quite generously, moreso than most ordinary men, even. And I am not speaking of your horns, this time." He chuckled, his wet hands sliding slowly, salaciously, down Vatnir's arms. "Well... not the ones on your head, anyway."

He felt, for a moment, like he might actually die. This was it, the ultimate taboo broken at last, the unspeakable finally spoken. He was not at all prepared.

"Wh-what– I, y-you–" Vatnir sputtered and gibbered, pulling away from the huge man with a jerk before launching into a coughing fit, his heart hammering against his ribs, stomach tumbling, full of ice and acid. Usually his prolonged bouts of coughing at least gave him time to think up a lie or an excuse, but this time he could just barely focus enough to keep himself from vomiting or passing out, let alone think of something to say to... to that. Eventually when he caught his breath, he blurted the first full sentence he could piece together in his mangled mind: "H-how– who in the Hel told you that??"

"Serafen." The Watershaper's smile broadened, casual as ever as he leaned one elbow over the edge of the bath, propped his chin on his fist. "He entered the wrong changing booth, apparently, and got an eyeful of you with your robes up over your head. 'Biggest cock I've seen on kith or wilder,' I believe he said."

"That's– I can't believe–" The elf whined and clutched at himself, wrapping his arms around his torso and sinking into the water as though to hide from the accusation. He glared in Serafen's direction, his chattering teeth churning the water to foam in front of him, and the little blue bastard actually had the audacity to wink at him.

"A gift from the gods is nothing to be ashamed of, my friend," Tekēhu laughed, pulling him close again with a masterfully crafted undertow. "Unless, of course, one doesn't use the gifts bestowed upon him, for the... benefit of others."

Vatnir glanced up quickly into the aumaua's face, made eye contact for a split second before looking away– but that split second glance, the look on the little man's face, told Tekēhu everything he needed to know.

"You jest," he gasped, shocked. "You must! You mean to say– not even once have you–?"

The horned man flapped his bony hands at the Watershaper, breath hissing between his teeth. "For frost's sake, don't belt it out to the whole bathhouse! It's... it's no one's business but my own!"

He'd never seen Tekēhu look so serious before, so determined. "Apologies, truly," he said, quieter now but no less emphatic, "but this is a matter of great importance. How old are– no. No, I do not wish to know. I must offer it up to Mother Ngati, a lost thing, forgotten." He bowed his head in silent prayer, and Vatnir blinked at him, baffled and vaguely insulted.

"I'm– I'm a hundred-and-nine," he growled, wincing as Tekēhu grimaced in spiritual pain at this new knowledge, "and this is not a matter of importance, not in the slightest. It's simply– it's how things are, how they have been, all my life. Think about it– a priest of Rymrgand, raised from infancy in a clan that venerates him as an avatar of the ending of all things... this weak, sickly, twisted body... Who was I to pursue, eh? Who would willingly couple with me, break every taboo in the Land, risk execution, or worse, a slow, lingering death in the snow after being expelled from the clan and forced to wander the wastes alone? Who would deliberately ruin their life for... for this?" He gestured again at himself, less energetically this time, and hung his horned head low, sullen and defeated.

An uncomfortable silence hung between the two men for a moment, Vatnir cringing and wishing he'd said nothing, Tekēhu deep in contemplation, working through the priest's words in his head. At last, he reached out, slowly, carefully, and pulled the trembling elf close in a warm, intimate embrace. And in spite of it all, in spite of what the others might think or say about the two of them, Vatnir submitted completely, melting in the aumaua's arms while he tried in vain to stop shaking.

"After we have left this place, when we are back on the ship– there is a quiet, hidden place I should like to show you," Tekēhu whispered, sweet and sincere. "Ekera, there are many things I'd like to show you, if you'll allow me to. If you want it." His lips brushed the other man's temple, kissing him just below one of his horns, and Vatnir shuddered obscenely, longing for more. A thick finger slipped beneath his chin and tilted his head upwards, and he looked into the Watershaper's wet, black eyes.

"You'll find me? Below decks, later tonight?" The soft murmur reverberated in Tekēhu's chest as he spoke, and Vatnir felt it in his bones, in his loins. He let out a shaky sigh, lightly touched the scaly blue hand gripping his shoulder.

"Tonight, ja," he breathed, face hot beneath his mask. "Yes, I'll... I'll find you."

—

#pillars of eternity #fic wip #well that escalated quickly #tekehu: ur a virgin?? and ur SWANGIN??? meet me tonight in the Secret Fuck Chamber #vatnir: .........aye aye cap'n ♡♡♡ #probably one more scene and this bad boy will be finished

[ilikeyoucomic]

Life/Comic Update Aug. 9th, 2021

Hey frens. No, the comic isn’t cancelled, we’ve been over this.

Just wanted to reach out because I feel like I’ve been kind of silent and absent in a lot of places recently and just wanted to...I dunno...mention it?

As you may know I was laid off from my stable income in February and after circling the drain of depression and fear from that I’ve been trying to find employment to no avail. Yes, despite being told to my FACE that businesses are crying for help, I’ve been rejected from every job I’ve applied for.

I am in a fortunate enough place that I have a financial safety net, although this is obviously not going to last as long as I’d hoped - my rent went up, my electric company decided to up their rates, and food costs are stupid. Honestly if they wanted to get rid of people who are loudly anti-capitalist like me maybe they shouldn’t make things so awful but I digress...

The Patreon currently doesn’t even cover my weekly grocery bill. This isn’t to guilt you into joining but to remind you that I have one. I’m terrible at marketing myself but I’m trying. I started sewing little plush frogs and everyone I talk to wants to buy one so I’m looking into finding a way to make that happen.

Other than financial bullshit, I’ve been kind of slacking off on art, too. Not out of lack of interest but because of an array, a gradient even, of physical issues I’m trying to deal with (with no insurance). I’m 90% sure last year I contracted COVID before lockdown happened - it’s left me with breathing issues that at first I just chalked up to being overweight and a blob with nowhere to work, but as time has gone on it’s becoming apparent it’s more than just my love of cheese. I’ve also started experiencing a lot of fatigue, body aches, brain fog - the usual. I’ve been just blaming it all on my lifestyle choices but at the end of the day it doesn’t matter because I’m in pain, tired, unfocused, confused, and lack desire to do anything.

Now please don’t be worried too much. I’ve been dealing with it in bouts since last year, it’s just kind of a part of me now, but I still have great days and take in beauty, serenity, joy, and love at absolutely every opportunity. I still get up and go for walks when I’m able. I exercise when I remember to and other than late night binging, I’m eating better. None of this would be possible if I had a job, to be fair, and work sucks, so I am just trying to stay afloat and EXIST the best I can.

There’s a lot out there I can’t control - climate disaster, cost of living going up, social collapse, a pandemic, being stuck in my shitty apartment because there’s no such thing as rent under $1000 in my state...but I’m doing what a lot of us are: just surviving. Making sure those that I care about and love are surviving. Keep your heads up.

Anyway, this was a lot of rambling. I’m getting my schedule back in order so I can make art more consistently. While I’m typing this my body aches and I want nothing more than to lay down for a bit and given that it’s a million degrees outside...I think I might do that.

My time belongs to me...I’m pretty lucky to have that.

Take care of yourselves and each other and, as always, I hope that future endeavors do not disappoint.

Twitter! | Facebook! | Picarto! | Ko-fi! | Discord! | Patreon!

[anya-dev]

hi Anya! what have you learned from writing Scout? any advice? 💙

Hi! This is such a good question. I’m not sure I’ve really stepped far away enough from the actual writing of Scout to have specific learnings about my writing or style. Hopefully, after the entire thing is out there, I can get a better perspective on how to improve. 

I do, though, have thoughts about actually publishing work for the first time. This got really long, so I’m putting it under a cut in case anyone is interested in this (fairly niche) set of learnings. 

If you find any of this helpful, or are thinking of publishing work, or want me to expand more – please feel free to reach out!! This has been such a unique experience 💚

Coding: This has been my biggest technical new skill in some time, and I actually learned that I really like it! I wish I had started out using SugarCube for Twine, but maybe next time. In terms of advice: Trial and error at first. Try not to get frustrated off the bat. It’s a steep learning curve. Keep your variables organized! I’m going to tout this advice, but probably still not take it – oops. 

Deadlines and expectations: This has been somewhat of a hard lesson for me to learn, because I know what it feels like to have to wait for a game you’re just so excited about and I don’t like letting people down, but sometimes (like right now) I need a break. I still like my 2-3 week regular schedule, but maybe next time I’ll make some sort of calendar that incorporates longer breaks after a certain number of chapters for an energy reboot. 

Charging $ for a game: I’m still not decided on this. Scout will stay free and always be free, even on completion, but I’m more talking about the next game. I think realistically, with the learnings I’ve had from Scout and maybe some art commissions, I could put together a project that would thrive at a low cost. But...I kind of like not being tied to a price. Scout is something that I write for the joy of writing it and, not sure if this is relatable but, making a profit off of something sometimes takes the joy out of it. And I’m not sure I want to be beholden to people who have paid for something mid-game writing. I don’t know about this one yet.  

Concrit on Tumblr and itch.io: This is less bout itch.io and more about Tumblr (itch.io seems less personal for some reason) but I was so much worse at receiving constructive criticism than I thought I would be! Hopefully not in my actual responses, but it definitely stings more than I expected it to. It’s such a vulnerable position to put something out there that you’ve worked hard on and there are definitely some...etiquette issues occasionally with things like this. Scout seems to really inspire strong emotions (majority positive, but sometimes negative) and I’m not sure I was prepared for how much direct feedback I would receive so early on. 

So – practical ways to deal with this if you’re publishing something. For me, at least for some time before responding, I let myself have a mini pity party. I accept that ouch, that comment makes me feel vulnerable, and I let myself be disappointed a bit. Take some deep breaths, and come back with a clearer head. In terms of the actual content, I feel like I have to sort through what I am willing to keep from that concrit vs. what I am not going to keep. Not every piece of feedback has equal merit, and not every piece is do-able. Which parts are relevant and actionable, and which parts are not?

Scout as an example

What I am going to keep from my concrit thus far: More attention on the balance between interactive elements and the story. Constantly checking and re-checking for unintentional non-inclusive elements playing as the MC. Hard coding of common names. 

What I am not going to keep: At a certain point, I am unwilling to sacrifice story for interactive game elements as desired. The story takes precedence over variety of action/responses of a “blank” MC. Still trying to strike that balance, but want to keep the integrity of my writing. 

#asks #scout: an apocalypse story

[mx-ishikawa]

Like a fire in My Blood

(so uhhh obligatory Lupin self-insert fic!! this is a li’l backstory of how my S/I got involved with the squad that I’ve been working on for the past couple weeks, lmao. warnings for guns, canon-typical violence, and lots of swearing- y’all know me by now XD” enjoy!)

Tied up to a chair in an abandoned warehouse surrounded by gun-toting mobsters was not planned for my Saturday night. Then again, normalcy wasn’t very present in my life anymore.

“Now you’re gonna tell me one more time, sweetheart, where is that treasure?” the squatty man who I assumed was the leader growled, pointing the gun at my face. What the fuck.

“First of all, I am not as sweet as you think I am,” I spat- how the hell was I so snarky staring straight into the barrel of death itself??- “and second of all, I really have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about so quit insisting I do and let me go!” Surprisingly, he lowered the gun.

“You’re a terrible liar, my dear,” he snarled, going over to where my jacket that had been forcibly removed from my person for some reason was hung.

“Buddy, I was raised by an overprotective controlling helicopter mother, I may as well be a professional liar,” I retorted.

“Well then how the hell do you explain this?!”

I gasped as he pulled out the bright, shimmering green stone from my jacket pocket. FUCK.

“Oh THAT! Jesus Christ, I completely forgot I had that, goddamn!”

“Yeah, sure you did.”

“No, I’m dead serious, I actually forgot about that! Literally, if I had remembered that I would’a told you straight-up because that shit is not worth my life!”

“Well then, care to explain now?”

“Yeah okay so it’s like- I went down State Street, past the Cultural Center, then I kinda went through Millenium Park until I got to the Art Institute, then I took a left and once I got past Lakeshore Drive I hopped over to the left again and- that cluster of trees at the park entrance? It’s literally right there in the middle of them, hidden practically in plain sight! I was just trying to find some worms for composting and I find a shit-ton of emeralds instead, how crazy is that?” I laughed breathlessly.

It wasn’t a joke, no, every word I spoke was true. I was so shocked upon finding the stash of emeralds right there in the middle of Chicago that I immediately covered it back up and ran off-- but not before nicking one, if only as proof that the whole thing hadn’t been a weird fever dream. And possibly for future bragging rights, but other than that, material things like rare precious jewels meant nothing to me. The fact that these happened to be in my favorite color was just a cool bonus. 

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the fat man sneered, huffing away at his fat cigar. “I’ll be taking this and the rest of the emeralds now.”

“Go ahead, I don’t need it or any of the others.” I would have waved my hand dismissively had it not been tied behind my back.

“I don’t understand though… what kind of woman would give up such riches so easily?”

  I tried not to gag. I don’t mind being called a woman, but not with that kind of sexist implication. “Not the kind of woman you’re thinking of, that’s for goddamn sure.”

“Ah well. None of that matters in the end.” He paused to snap his fingers, and two of his biggest men approached with their guns. “Finish her off.”

“Whoa wait WHAT?! Why do you wanna kill me, I fuckin’ TOLD you where the emeralds are-?!”

“And I appreciate that, it’s just that I can’t have any witnesses, you know? It’s only business.” he gave a wicked sneer. The men cocked their guns.

“Fuck you and your business, I won’t tell anyone, I swear! You saw how honest I was, come on, please, I-!”

I screamed and screwed my eyes shut as a shot rang out. I braced myself for the worst. But it never came. 

I finally opened my eyes when I heard a “what the hell?!” from among the mobsters. I gasped as I saw another, new person standing protectively in front of me. Someone who appeared to be wearing traditional Japanese attire, with long black hair and an even longer sword. Who was this person and what the hell happened?!

“FIRE!!” the leader yelled. In an instant, the stranger leaped up into the air and lifted their sword, twirling it around effortlessly as shots were fired at them. What were they do-

My thoughts were brought to a screeching halt as a bullet landed next to me. No, it was only half of a bullet. My eyes widened, looking back up at the stranger with the sword. No fucking way.

From that second, my eyes were transfixed on them. I watched them in shock as they sliced literal bullets clean in half with ease. When some of the men ran off, the stranger leapt forward with a low grunt and slashed their sword through the men’s guns. They gasped in shock and fright as their weapons broke clean in half seconds later. There seemed to be thousands of mobsters in this warehouse, but the sword-wielding stranger took everyone down with ease. Even when their sword was suddenly shot out of their hands, they nimbly avoided impact and took the mobsters down with what appeared to be heavily-practiced martial arts moves. 

Now I’d seen my fair share of bloody fights since mingling with the underground scene in Chicago. Hell, even back in my tiny hometown I’d seen some shit. But never had I seen someone fight so gracefully. Every move they made was so smooth and poised that if I didn’t know any better I’d have thought they were dancing. They caught sight of their sword from across the room and leapt out of the fight to snatch it back. Every move they made with that thing was quick and clean-cut, deliberate and precise, effortlessly slashing anything that came their way. When seemingly every gun was destroyed or emptied of bullets, only a few brave unarmed mobsters remained, but with a few fluid flicks of the swordfighter’s wrist, all of their clothes were slashed off save for their boxers and tighty whities. Not exactly a sight for sore eyes, but it was enough to make even the leader of the mob run away screaming for their lives. 

“Haha, take that ya old geezer!” someone yelled. I gasped and finally diverted my attention from the swordsman to find two more people were in the warehouse, someone with a red jacket and another with a black one. When the hell did they get here??

In that brief moment when I looked away, the graceful warrior had come behind where I was sitting, and before I could plead for them not to kill me, I was freed from the ropes that bound me. I pulled my arms forward and breathed heavily, trying to process what the FUCK just happened when a voice behind me spoke.

“Are you alright?”

Their voice was deep and strong, yet held no tone of aggression or danger. I turned to look at my savior and gasped. It was a handsome- no, beautiful- man. He was tall and slender, standing strong and proud. His pale skin glistened with a thin coating of sweat from all that movement, and I couldn’t help but notice that he wore his shirt in a way that exposed most of his chest. His hands were large and strong, but with long, nimble fingers. He had a narrow face and elegant features. High cheekbones, a defined jawline, a light rosy dusting on his cheeks, and intense, dark eyes. He looked to be stoic and serious, and if he hadn’t just saved my life I might have been intimidated by him. 

“I… wow~... I mean! I’m… safe, thanks to you.”

“And us, too!” a voice from earlier retorted. I whipped my head around, it was the man in the red jacket. “It was a team effort, wasn’t just him ya know.”

“Jeez Lupin, give her a break,” the man in black said, “you weren’t the first one to make sure she wasn’t dead!”

“Well I think I deserve some credit too, Jigen!” the man in red- Lupin- whined.

“I uhh… well thank you everyone but… I didn’t actually see what you two did.

“What?!” Lupin gasped.

“Sorryyy! I just...” I turned back to the handsome swordsman, “you were the first one I saw show up so I guess I just kinda… focused on ya.”

The man called Jigen chuckled. “Hey Goemon, looks like you got an admirer!”

“Hey!” I felt my face heat up. “I just-!” I bashfully looked again to the swordsman- Goemon.

“Goemon… thank you, and your friends, for sa-” I cut myself off as realization clicked in my brain. “Wait a second…” Lupin. Jigen. Goemon. I’ve heard those names together before. “Wait just a minute, I know who you guys are!” Lupin let out a monkey-ish giggle.

“Took ya long enough to recognize me! No surprise though, I am pretty infamous~”

“So it’s safe to assume you’re after the same treasure those mobsters were, right?”

“Bingo,” Jigen said, tipping his hat ever so slightly.

“So, if you guys wanted to get there first… why did you save me?”

“Because unlike them, we do not want harm to come to innocent people,” Goemon nobly spoke. God, something about his voice… clear as a bell, soothing, and undeniably sexy. But his words put me at ease. 

“Oh thank god… so, since you saved my life and all that, how ‘bout I make your lives easier by leading you to the emeralds?”

“Sounds good to me,” Jigen said, and the others agreed. They casually strolled out of the warehouse as if they hadn’t just fought off mobsters in that very space, off to their car parked in front. Lupin took the driver’s seat while Jigen got in the passenger side, leaving Goemon and me to sit in the back together. 

“So,” Goemon spoke once we got moving. Was it just me or did his cheeks get pinker? “What is your name?”

I froze. Shit.

“Uhh… I… I kinda have a beef with my real name, but uh, you can just call me Light.”

“Light, huh?” Lupin piped up from the front. “Where’d ya get that alias from?”

“It’s a long story,” I chuckled.

Goemon shifted in his seat. “I like it.” Cue me blushing again.

“Y-you do?? I mean, thanks…” I scratched the back of my neck. His only response was a nod as he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest.

He was quiet for the rest of the ride, Lupin and Jigen making most of the conversation as I pointed out where to go. But I couldn’t stop looking over at Goemon. He looked so calm, so picturesque. I admired the way the wind wafted through his long locks and how his thick lashes rested against his rosy cheeks. And sometimes, when I glanced over at him, I found him looking right back at me. Like he wanted to say something to me, but didn’t. Something in his eyes made him look so soft. When I first looked at him, those eyes stared right through my soul and meant business, but now there was something much more tender behind them. Almost like… puppy eyes. I felt myself swallow thickly.

My thoughts were brought to a halt when Lupin parked the car on the side of the street. All we had to do was cross Lakeshore Drive and we were on our way to the treasure. Thankfully it was dark out and we’d be less noticed.

“Thank god there’s a bridge here,” Jigen said, puffing at his cigarette. “Because I am not crossing that son of a bitch.”

“Yeah my mom and I made that mistake the first time I was here, we were standing there waiting to get across for ages.”

“Wait, I thought you lived here?” Lupin inquired as we made our way across.

“I do now,” I clarified. “Didn’t always though. For most of my life I lived in this shitty small town about an hour and a half away from here. I’d visited here about six times, so naturally this was my first choice when I finally got the chance to get the fuck outta there. Haven’t been here for very long though, only like what, a couple months maybe?”

“So you were a small-town gal, eh?” Jigen exhaled another breath of smoke. I grimaced.

“Yeah, and I hated it.”

Once we got across the drive and to the site of the emeralds, Lupin started asking more questions.

“So Light, if you were the first person to find this treasure, how come you only took one and not the whole stash? Was it a strategic thing or-”

“Well actually, I found this shit completely by accident, so leaving all but one here was mostly out of shock. That, and I never really cared much for material shit.” Jigen sighed from next to me as he dug.

“Finally, a woman who doesn’t.”

My brows furrowed together. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Hey, if you’re talking about Fujiko again, you’d better can it!”

“Wait, who’s Fujiko??”

“A female affiliate of Lupin’s,” Goemon answered.

“A very unfaithful one at that,” Jigen scowled, “she’s not above stabbing us in the backs to get the loot we earned for herself.”

“Oh come on guys, she doesn’t always betray us!” Lupin whined.

“Makin’ excuses for your girlfriend again,” Jigen grumbled. I dared not make any further comment on this Fujiko thing; seemed like a personal problem. Once we finally uncovered the jewels, I helped load them into a large sack.

“Even if you do not care for material items such as these, it is only fair that you are given a share of them,” Goemon spoke.

“Yeah, we’ll split ‘em up evenly between the four of us!” Lupin smiled.

“Awww~. You know…” I began, “for a group of rag-tag thieves, you guys are pretty nice. Nicer than half the law-abiding citizens I’ve met in my lifetime.”

“Well, you know, it’s all in a day’s work!” Lupin chirped, before his voice suddenly dipped a bit lower. “And you know, you and I could work well together in other areas~”

Goemon bopped Lupin’s head with the hilt of his sword before I could think of a response. Did Lupin just flirt with me??

“Jesus Christ, Lupin, get ahold’a yourself,” Jigen scolded.

I wasn’t sure how to respond so I kept quiet until we were finished with our work, and almost immediately someone caught us.

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE LUPIN, YER UNDER ARREST!!” a loud, booming voice yelled. I looked over and saw a tall, stocky man who appeared to be dressed like a detective from the 1940s with a slew of police behind him.

“Oh shit, the feds!” I gasped as we took off.

“Sorry Pops, I got places to go!” Lupin snickered. We sprinted through the park- god I always hated running- until we got to a dock. The man known as “Pops” was hot on our trail, but the guys hopped into a boat and managed to start it up. I was the last to hop into the boat- but I tripped and dropped my bag of emeralds, which thankfully landed inside the boat with a clattering. I braced myself for an awkward landing but a pair of strong arms caught me. And just like that, the boat sped off so quickly that I had to brace myself against whoever was holding me. I heard “Pops” yelling in the distance, but my brain turned it into white noise when I looked up and saw that once again Goemon was my rescuer- and my hand was directly on his chest. My face flamed up like gasoline.

“Gwaaah!! Uhh-” I gasped as I embarrassedly scurried out of his grasp. “Thank you, sorry-!” I brushed my bangs out of my face, a nervous habit.

“Why are you apologizing?” Goemon asked. “There is nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yeah, you helped us get to the treasure!” Lupin said from the steering wheel.

“If anything, we should be the sorry ones because now you’re stuck with us and your home is back there,” Jigen chuckled.

“Eh, home is where the heart is,” I said. “And my heart always wants to travel but never gets to.”

“Ah, a free spirit, I see how it is,” Lupin giggled.

“Lord I was born a ramblin’ man~” Jigen softly sang, lighting a cigarette.

“Yeah… I hate staying in one place for too long. Unfortunately for me, I’ve only ever lived in two places my entire life, and we’re rowin’ this boat away from one of them. But hey, this was my first time being personally caught doing something illegal so I’ve been perfectly prepared to just abandon ship and take off at any time.”

“Wait, does this imply you were planning on this? I thought you said you found these gems by accident!” Lupin gasped. I had to laugh.

“Nono, I did! But that doesn’t mean I’m innocent~.”

“So what the hell is it you do?” Jigen asked.

“I’ve been involved in undercover transport of goods, it’s what I do for a living. And before you ask because I know you will, yes, some of those goods are drugs, but not all of it. Sometimes we assist in the trading of riches like these emeralds, and sometimes we get food and water or money for bills to those in need when their so-called government aid won’t. Yeah sure it’s illegal, but it ain’t a bad gig.”

“My ancestors would greatly honor the work you do,” Goemon calmly spoke. The compliment caught me off guard, but when I looked at him I could tell he was sincere.

“Aww shucks, it’s nothing,” I chuffed, scratching the mack of my neck.

“Please tell me your organization is named “The Robin Hood Project” or something like that,” Lupin laughed.

“Actually, we have no name to our services,” I clarified. “Gotta stay discreet.”

“A wise decision,” Goemon said.

“Sorry if we just got you out of a job,” Lupin apologized.

“Naw, this ain’t like no 9-5 gig, it pretty much runs on a ‘come whenever you’re available’ basis, they’ll understand if I’m away… might be surprised once they find out I got wrapped up with Lupin the Third, haha.”

“That’s my name, please wear it out!” the aforementioned thief giggled.

There was a brief moment of quiet before Goemon spoke once again, turning to me. “If you wish to go wherever the wind takes you, then it seems the wind is blowing in your favor tonight,” he nobly said.

“Sorry about him, he likes to get all prophetical and speak in metaphors and shit,” Jigen said.

“No I understand what he’s saying,” I said to Jigen, but I was looking more at Goemon. Was it just me or did he have a small smile on his face? I returned him a smile just in case. “Thanks again for, y’know saving me and everything. Thanks to everyone but… especially you.”

“Yep, she’s your admirer alright,” Lupin laughed.

“Shush up!!” Goemon and I somehow said in unison, before we exchanged shocked glances with each other.

“Jinx! You owe me a Coke!” I yelled excitedly.

“Uhhh…” Goemon averted his gaze and his eyes darted all over, looking confused. It was strange, seeing the man that took down an entire armed mob with nothing but a katana and his own fleetness look so innocent, but that only added to his charms. Oh no, he was way too cute.

“You don’t actually owe her a Coke man, it’s just a thing people say,” Jigen chuckled. Goemon sat forward and crossed his arms, looking slightly embarrassed.

“American expressions of speech remain a mystery to me,” he grumbled, cheeks flushing a deeper rosy pink. Yup, he’s way too adorable. My heart fluttered just looking at him. I was doomed. I was so doo-

“LUPIN YOU LITTLE WEASEL!! STOP THAT BOAT RIGHT NOW, YER UNDER ARREST!!!”

“That same guy again?!” I gasped as a blinding spotlight was cast on us from what I assumed was a police boat.

“Pops, you’re relentless!” Lupin yelled from the front of the boat.

“Sorry, we got places to go and shit to steal!” Jigen chuckled before promptly shooting out the spotlight. This time Goemon deliberately held me flush against him as we sped away from “Pops” for the second time and into the night.

#my writing #self ship #lupin iii #self insert #goemon ishikawa xiii #self shipping #self insert fic #self shipping community #arsene lupin iii #daisuke jigen #Pops appears but only briefly lmao #self ship fic #s/i fic #f/o: Goemon #pf/o: Lupin #pf/o: Jigen #just when I needed to be lucky

[yukikorogashi]

💞💖💘💕 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Positivity meme (No longer accepting)

Send 💞 and my muses will say something nice about your muse

   AT THE MENTION OF HER SENSEI, the little one would LIGHT UP just as brightly as the midday sun itself. “Rohan sensei? Well...” Their FIRST MEETING together would have already been the BESTEST DAY IN HER LIFE. “It ain’t no secret dat he’s one-a da most talented, most amazing artist in da WHOLE WIDE WORLD! A-Ah didn’t even think ah’d have-a chance of meetin’ him, let alone talk ta him!” And yet... it was from that day when things got better. When DREAMS WOULD BECOME A REALITY, as the gifted mangaka took her under his wing, and offered her every bit of LOVE AND SUPPORT that she didn’t even think she deserved in the first place. 

   He wasn’t just her hero and art teacher, but would become the BIG BROTHER that she had only ever dreamed of having, “He’s just been so kind ta me... always helpin’ me out in any way he can ta when it comes ta mah art. An’ uhm gonna make him proud! Uhm gonna keep workin’ real hard ta be a mangaka jus’ lahk him! Oh y’all jus’ wait, ehehe!”

Send 💖 and my muses will say something nice about you, the mun

   “Well, ah’ll be a flyin’ squirrel’s cousin, if it ain’t Kitty! ‘Ave a seat, ‘ave a seat!” Pulling up a chair for the GUEST OF HONOUR, Itsuki would then run off briefly. Before returning with several dishes that she had made just for the occasion, as well as two cups of freshly brewed tea, “Ah hope ya don’t mind! As sweet as SODA is, it’s a whole lot betta if ya wash dat all down wit’ some pipin’ hot tea!” And with that, the little one would take her seat from across them. Clasping her hands lightly together and giving a grateful “Itadakimasu!” before digging into her own food.

   And in between a few busy munches, Itsuki would smile up to them. Hoping that they were enjoying the meal that she had prepared just for them. “SHE speaks da world of ya, y’know? Always gushin’ on ‘bout what a talented an’ hardworkin’ fella ya are! An’ jus’ how proud she is ta know ya an’ call ya her FRIEND! An’ oooohhhh! All demm cute critters ya got back at home! Yer a real kind soul fer watchin’ o’er an’ lovin’ all those darlins’! Ah sure wish ah could go and see em’ fer m’self, one day!” She would take another spoonful of rice then, “Ehehe, uhm jus’ so happy ah got ta finally meet wit’cha’s m’self! It’s a real honor, yup, yup! ... Thank ya fer bein’ such a great friend, Kitty-san.”

Send 💘 and the mun will say something nice about your muse

   Hehe, well hello, hello, MR VOGUE! It’s about time we had some coffee together, huh? And lookit you, looking as SPIFFY as always-- pft! But no seriously, I am absolutely JELLY over how you can just make any outfit look like it was tailored just for you! Just how good you make everything look on you! And so it means a lot that your FABULOUS SELF likes my makeup and wardrobe! Also, where can I get those headbands? Because I always thought that they are the cutest! I would totally love to try one on myself, one of these days! If, you don’t mind that is. I know it’s kind of one of your signature accessories, after all, but pretty please~? You got them in several colours too! But your green one is totally my fave!

   Also, I just wanna say... thank you. Because you’re just such a sweetheart, okay? You are clearly so busy with your work as a mangaka, but that also never stops you from being there for your friends and from giving back to the community itself. And I’m just so SO GRATEFUL that you are there to look out for my little snow child. And just what an absolutely POSITIVE INFLUENCE you have been on her, since you two met! And of course, that’s not all. You have honestly just been a DEAR to all of my other muses too! Like, I know Josuke doesn’t want to say it, but I know he appreciates having a big brother figure in his life as well! 

   And of course... you know your BIG SISTER REIMI is too, and will always be proud of you... and will always want the best for you, Rohan. She really misses you, you know. And one of the few things she truly regrets in life is the fact that... she couldn’t be there with you. When you worked so hard to be the amazing artist that you are today. But you know what? She just wants you to be happy, Rohan, as do all of my other muses. And I hope you will continue to pursue the happiness you deserve in life.

Send 💕 and the mun will say something nice about you, the mun

   Aaaaaa my darling Kittyyyy, please forgive me for being such a broken record. But you know just how much I adore you and just how highly I think of you. I will be forever proud to call you my friend, and am so grateful that you offered your HAND OF FRIENDSHIP to me that very day! Like oh my goodness, I also appreciated Snii recommending me to you, but ahhhhh... I-I was actually so nervous and shy too when we first started talking (Heck, I was this way with Snii too. But it’s like... omgosh, these two are so flipping talented, so please, don’t screw up your one chance to talk to them!)? So oh gosh, I was just so happy when we hit it off as well as we did! How you literally welcomed me with OPEN ARMS, as we started talking about how Itsuki and Rohan were going to interact, and what relationship they would have (Which to this very day continues to ofc be one of my most FAVOURITE RELATIONSHIPS that Itsuki got to be blessed with).

   And it will always warm my heart to see what a FANTASTIC FRIEND you are to not just me, but to your other friends, especially when it comes to Snii. The INFINITE AMOUNT OF LOVE AND SUPPORT you give just awes me, truth me told. Like good lord, that love you radiate for your friends is just... incredible, okay? And when I see you two are up to your shenanigans on the dash, I am always here chuckling. I am always so happy to see you two have so much fun together, and what INCREDIBLE CHEMISTRY you two have together, especially when it comes to your ship! I’m just... aaaaaaa,  you are the absolute sweetest, truly. And we are all just so lucky to have a pal like you in our lives, Kitty. MUACK! I will always be cheering you on from my end, okay? You best remember to treat yourself too, you hardworker you! DOUBLE MUACK!

#thusspoke #// long post #❄️ ASKS ❄️ #❄️BECKOWSKY SPEAKING! ❄️ #(Sorry this took awhile bby! <333) #❄️ QUEUE ❄️

[heatherlarsonarted]

Student work, symbols & icons and practice paper protest posters

Journal #3

We worked on our practice paper protest posters for 3rd-5th grade and I was really happy with how well they students engaged with the lesson. I could see the utilization of the skills learned in the color lesson and the symbols and icons lesson. The students came up with great reasoning behind what was important to them and why, and tied that abstract idea to visuals in varying methods. I left it up to the students to choose what art tools they would like to use to create their posters, digital, paper, collage... If we were in the classroom I would have had them work on paper or digital but set the paper sizes up for them so we were working uniformly in size. That way the posters could hang in the halls or be attached to sign posts for us to take a march with and the students would be able to experience working large. Working on a large scale is super important because it requires a lot of planning and revision from an original idea, which is part of the design process anchor chart I shared with them (also attached). 

I had the students start by looking at and discussing examples of protest posters, one with words and one without, then we did a compare and contrast with them. The students are really great at discussing what they see visually and tying it to abstract ideas and “messages”. I have guiding questions on the slides (What do you see visually? What do you think the artist’s message is? What do you wonder about this art?) However they often don’t need me to ask each question individually, they associate what they see into what they believe the meaning of the art is naturally. I have to get better at being flexible/dynamic with how I approach discussion, my inclination is to ask the questions on the slides in too rigid a manor. Like instead of asking question number 2 if a student has already answered it in their response to question 1, I need to start crowdsourcing to illicit more responses. “Does anyone agree with ___?” “”Does anyone have anything to add to what ____ was saying?” “Did anything else occur to you that we may not have touched upon yet?” are better than going back to the questions over and over. Ava said it’s like going backwards each time, and I agree. I was thinking about why this is so difficult for me, and what I’ve come up with is I feel like I’m being judged against the slides? Like if I make a plan and don't adhere to it I am doing something wrong. Ava said that there is more freedom, like if one class isn’t as into a lesson as another I can just change it completely based on that immediate feedback. That concept is strange to me, like I genuinely feel like I’m being graded against adherence to my plan. I will be making a conscious effort from here on in to make sure I feel out what is going on and where the students are taking up and roll with it. 

During Friday’s 5th grade lesson (and the 5th graders did awesome they are so ready to discuss big issues!) I had one student (a white boy) who chose BLM as the subject of his poster. In his explanation about why he chose that subject (in his words “I’m not choosing this because it is an easy subject that a lot of people are discussing, I’m choosing it because black people deserve the rights that everyone else has...” <- I paraphrased that a little). However, as he went on to discuss the supporting details of why he chose BLM and equality he struggled with the naming of people (he used POC, Black People, the Blacks <- yikes) and with the naming of systematic injustice based on white supremacy. He stumbled a bit bout he was genuinely attempting to discuss the systematic oppression BIPOC face. As he was finishing up what his reasoning was his zoom started freezing and I wasn’t sure what to do. It’s really strange that I can know how to discuss these concepts with adults, and in theory I know what students need to be aware of, but in the moment I totally froze and had a ton of things running through my head. Here I am, a white teacher, and when he struggled with naming the oppressed (especially when he mentioned ‘the blacks’ which I think was really really unintentional) I thought to myself okay so how do I correct this in front of a group of kids without harming anyone? Like, what right do I have to say, “I saw you struggling to name the group of marginalized people who are fighting for equity, it’s best to stick to African American (not everyone agrees with this) or Black People or BIPOC? The systematic marginalization you are explaining is called white supremacy, which a structure of inequity we all live in.” The thing is it isn’t up to me to ‘name’ a group of people I am not a part of... and in my regular life that is what I would say, but I found it more difficult to explain in a class full of students. So, yeah, I am glad it happened (Ava spoke with him in the chat privately to help address the situation) because the experience made me realize there's a problem with having to provide some kind of guidance but in the moment not knowing and struggling to reply in a non-hurtful way. 

I don’t assume anyone’s identity, because how can you ever know how someone identifies? Also, identities can be fluid to some degree. So in my mind while there are some ways in naming groups that are inherently wrong, there are others that exist on a spectrum (just like identity itself) and where one individual may be comfortable with African American another may dislike that and prefer BIPOC, or just Black People. I really dislike speaking for a whole group of people that really doesn’t need me to name them and that I am not a part of. 

I think if I have a similar experience in the future I may explain identity exists on a spectrum ... and on individual levels you may want to ask what someone prefers, and if naming a group BIPOC? Then again BLM is focused on the specific marginalization (and horrors) Black people face... so BIPOC may not be the best name to use in alignment with BLM. 

It’s just very sticky to try and parse out what the best course of action is without harming any of the students in the process. I don’t think any group is a monolith... and I don’t think I am the “authority” for anyone who isn’t literally ME, but then again I am in a position of power in the classroom and doing nothing is just as bad as participating in racist actions. I’ve been putting a lot of thought into this over the weekend and I’m still not 100% sure what the best solution, or discussion, to have around this is.