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vicwrites-and-acts · 7 months

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WIP: TEMPUS ↪➡️

Chapter One | Sample | full first chapter.

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EARTH SHOULD BE nothing more than a long, forgotten memory; a recollection of childhood dreams, nostalgia so real it makes your stomach twist and your heart ache with a million regrets. Cake, late night TV, screaming with her bestie about something irrelevant, her parents. It's all been taken from her. Stolen, really. The Nightwalker virus destroyed everything, and left her no choice but to hurtle through space at precisely 34 kilometers per second.

Eris Matthews tries to hold onto her memories from home. The scent of her mother baking her famous sweet and savory apple pie, her ridiculously blown out of proportion nagging about wearing sunscreen, her smile whenever Eris and Draven would do something exceptionally funny. Her father's ridiculous oversized sweaters that he insisted he had to wear every morning, while having a cup of coffee. Draven's fanatical approach to theater, and the warm summer nights huddled around the bonfire near the ocean…

God, it's the little things she never fathomed she'd miss.

Being confined to the cargo hold doesn't exactly help, either. The walls remind her of her father's latest project car, being held together by sheer luck. Framework's damaged as if someone had taken a hammer and wailed on it near the fender, tried to fix it with insulating foam sealant, before realizing halfway through it doesn't work. If you've never had to scrape foam out of fiddly car parts, you're the lucky one. Eris and her dad worked tirelessly that summer. This? Entirely different. This is life or death, and someone didn't even bother building it correctly.

Yeah, life totally sucks.

Eris isn't supposed to be here. She's an unauthorized person aboard the Exodus; a crazily, reckless, stowaway mission with one of the only people she trusts. Her best friend, Cashmere Moni. Okay, okay. I know what you're thinking. I didn't have a choice, alright? There hadn't been enough time. The ship was only built with four people I'm mind, not six. However, if they'd stayed behind on Earth, they would have never made it. Eris was not going to let that happen. It hadn't been an easy choice, mind, but her conscience is very clear.

Incessant beeping comes from the hull, dull and distorted like broken wires on top of an antenna, rips Eris out of her thoughts. She knows what it means. The atmosphere is vastly approaching at an alarming rate. Damn it. Eris reaches her hand out toward Cashmere, but she's too late. Turbulence hits hard, sending the two of them careening into the nearest wall. Eris clenches her jaw to keep from screaming, blood pours from her nose, and she's pretty sure the force of the impact blacked her eye on principle. Shocking pain explodes from behind her eyelids. Yep, definitely a black eye, Eris thinks, dazed, stumbling backwards and barely catching Cashmere as she crashed into her, sending them both towards the door.

And silence.

Well, mostly. The crash had dimmed Eris' hearing a little. A distant voice echoes throughout her skull, making her feel pretty confident that the ship's computer informed them the Exodus is stabilizing. Oxygen level at a hundred percent. The planet is survivable; like Rhys had promised. A breath of utter relief passes through her lips, closing her eyes briefly to get rid of dark spots threatening her vision; feeling like a million tiny dragons are waging war inside her brain.

"What do you.. wanna bet Rhys forgets.. to.. to open Cargo?" Eris says, blinking, giving Cashmere a lopsided smile. Her speech slurred, thanks to the possible concussion.

"How 'bout I bet you two of your famous crunchwraps that you're right?" Cash winks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Deal."

Rhys Grey is single handedly the most forgetful person to ever exist, but Eris owes him her life. He'd shown up to warn her. Only a select few, higher ups mainly, were chosen to go to the Odyssey; the space station that would lead civilization towards their new planet. Without him, her fate would have been a long black abyss of an infected Earth. She shivers.

Her family had been sick for days. There wasn't enough knowledge about the virus, which later the CDC coined as the Nightwalker virus. Yesterday, her family woke with a thirst for blood, red-rimmed, lifeless eyes that pierced into her soul. Their distorted voices begged Eris to join them. Her brother, Draven, promised to end her puny mortal existence swiftly; no pain, he swore. Her mother was the loudest. Telling her life would be much easier if she could feel what they felt. Which was nothing.

The virus was unlike anything the newscasts released.

It was a game changer. Something Eris tried to tell Rhys' parents, because if she could just get someone to listen, then maybe, maybe, she could have an opportunity to save her family. Nobody would listen. Sherry and Dakota Grey clammed up, kicked them off the ship, and if Rhys hadn't disobeyed them.. Well, the only future Eris and Cashmere would've had is a one-way ticket to stale bread, a half-life existence, struggling from one place to another, and barricading themselves in at night to avoid the vampiric shells of humanity.

The sound of metal grinding into gear brings Eris out of her miserable reverie, bringing her to share an anxious look with Cashmere, praying against all that's left that Rhys is the one who opened it. She doesn't even want to think about how his parents would react to seeing them here. Her heart thumps wildly inside her chest, leg bouncing erratically where she sways in place; again, thank you possible concussion.

An equally anxious Rhys greets them, standing at the edge of the platform, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. That does little to console Eris. Despite that, she's the first one out of cargo, stumbling into Rhys and throwing her arms around his neck.

"Thank God," Eris breathes, voice catching in her throat as she takes in the frozen wasteland over his shoulder. "Um, Rhys –"

Civilization is nowhere to be seen. A purple haze glitters from the sun, transforming the snow-covered trees, and the icicles dangling from every branch into a soft lilac. A frozen forest stretching for seemingly miles with a thick blanket of ice covering the only path. Eris draws in a breath. It's breathtaking. She slowly removes her arms from around Rhys' neck, almost in a daze, before taking a miniscule step backwards. Wrong. An equally mesmerized Cashmere steps beside her, grinning, but Eris can't find herself feeling much joy at all. It's not right. Where is everyone?

She longs to feel the ice against her skin like blue flames nipping against the wind, but the previous horrors of a long, forgotten Earth has taught her to look beyond the veil of illusion. What the hell are they going to do now?

"Uh uh, no way girl," Cashmere says, sending Eris a pointed look. "I've seen that look plenty of times to know what you're thinkin'. No. 'Live better,' that's what you said, right?"

Eris grimaces. Cash is right, technically, but the entire point of the mission was to blend beneath the cracks. Disappear into the crowd like they were meant to be here all along. This isn't the plan. A Tundra, where nothing will ever melt if it's anything like Earth; pristine, open, possibly deadly… There's nowhere to hide out here.

"Look, my parents won't stay gone forever. Let's just explain it to them and.."

"No. Absolutely not," Eris replies adamantly, shaking her head repeatedly to drive her point across. "Nope. Your parents would ship us back into Nightwalker hell. Don't know bout y'all, but I'm not going back there."

It's a weak argument. A way to undermine them in hopes they'll just let it go, without having to go over it again. It's insane. She doesn't even know why Rhys would suggest that option. The thought of having to explain herself to a flabbergasted, possibly angry Sherry and Dakota, how she and Cash disregarded their rules and wound up here anyway? No thanks.

Rhys clears his throat to capture Eris' attention, and she almost wishes she hadn't looked over at him. She groans. Of course. The damn look. His face morphs into despondence, and he pouts his lip, making it quiver for extra effect. The warm blue eyes pierce into hers, turning sad, almost pleading.

A puppy. A ridiculous, oversized puppy, but one nonetheless.

She averts her gaze. It's like the two were children again, sitting at a desk in a stuffy arts classroom. Eris had her 'special' purple crayon in front of her. She'd believed for the longest time it had special powers, magical ones. Mrs. Crandall encouraged sharing. Eris did not. She'd never had to, not even with Draven.

Rhys had really wanted her purple crayon. He'd been coloring some fancy fire-breathing dragon, and wanted to blend the shade of purple and orange to make the breath. A cool concept, really, if he'd wanted to ask anyone else. It's silly. How utterly defensive Eris had become over a normal crayon, but she'd been vehemently against giving it to him. He looked at her, then, raising his eyebrows dramatically to make them larger, jutting out his bottom lip and giving her his best depressed look.

Eris groans. It's something she should have seen coming a mile away, and yet he always manages to catch her completely off guard. Great. She sighs and peels her gaze back towards them, trying to cover her ever-growing smile.

"Fine," she says, giving them a faux unamused look, before continuing, "but if they hurdle all three of us back to Earth, I will say I told you so."

They trek in silence. The sun will be going down any minute now, and they're no closer to finding Rhys' parents. Go back. Her brain is at war with itself; On one hand, going back to the ship would make this one hundred percent easier, but on the other hand, she'd be letting Rhys and Cash down. It's impossible to see much beauty with these thoughts swarming her brain. Even if she'd like to be lost in her surroundings, like Rhys and Cash were.

Eris brushes stray hair from her freezing cheeks, shivering at the cold air. It had almost felt warm. When she'd first stepped off the platform back at the ship, and now it feels as if she'd stepped into a gigantic chest freezer. She'd done that once. On accident, Draven had locked her in it, and nearly forgot about her for five minutes. If only he were here now.

She shakes her head. It's hard not to dwell on the past, on Draven and her parents; hell, even the difference in air quality here. Endless possibilities. Variations of different levels of bad, depending on the situation.

A sickening crunch echoes below Eris' feet, bouncing off the trees. Horror washes over her; a nameless dread infiltrates her body like a snake ready to crush his prey. Heart pounding. If she moves, she'll fall. If she doesn't, maybe it'll give her friends the time they'll need. Now or never.

"Slowly move back the way we came," she orders, shakily. "Now."

Her eyes continuously dart towards the spider web-like cracks increasingly at an alarming rate, and back towards her friends.

Breathe.

What would mom do?

What would Draven do?

The last question makes her cringe. Draven would be just as useless as her in this situation. Focus.

"Eris…"

She raises her hand to silence their worried prodding, wildly gesturing for them to just do as she asked them. Now isn't the time for them to doubt her. If she gave in to her own fear, threatening to crush her beneath its weight, then they would all die. She won't let that happen. Rhys saved her life, and now it was time to repay him with hers.

One second. That's all it took for her to free-fall through the ice. Rigid water engulfs Eris, entering her open mouth, and muffling her panicked shrieks. The worried shouts from her friends go mainly unnoticed. Her lungs feel like they're on fire. She kicks her legs wildly, arms desperately reaching upwards before her fist connects with a solid block of ice.

The shouts above her cease. All that's left is a long, jagged silence.

#so that was long #my writing #writblr #wip: tempus #oc: eris matthews #oc: rhys grey #oc: cashmere moni #please dont steal my work #writers on tumblr #my wip #creative writing

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kindlythevoid · 9 months

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I finished AC: Odyssey and the amount of RAGE I felt when watching the after-credits was UNREAL.

(Please be warned, there is a very long, angry, slightly incomprehensible rant underneath. Proceed with caution.)

Like, not even touching the fact that Kassandra put Herodotus’s manuscripts in the LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA (which made me super mad about the burning of the Library which means that she put it there for NOTHING and his writing is GONE and it makes me EMOTIONAL)

Okay, so I touched on it a little.

But other than that, seeing the little bit at the end? The little “Kassandra’s journey continues in AC: Valhalla”??? Unreal. Absolutely not. I get that she’s immortal (a lie; I really, really don’t and did not appreciate that story line because of the fucking plot holes that gives the rest of the series but it’s fine I’m fine I’m ironing them out as all angry fanfic writers do) but dear lord why is she in another game??

Okay, I have taken a second and reviewed my words. Allow me to rephrase.

I actually really like Kassandra. I think she’s great. I can deal with her outliving everyone (which she DOESN’T DESERVE) and fucking about like the world’s greatest cryptid (srsly do they explain why she never got in contact with the assassins when she so CLEARLY adopted their weapon-of-choice and are aligned in the same damn cause?). Part of me is rubbing my hands together and cackling at all the sand this gives me to play with in the sandbox of canon. Another part of me is screaming and bashing pots and pans together in front of Ubisoft.

Kassandra showing up in another game? Incredible. Fantastic. Start filling in those plot holes immediately. But also? Valhalla is a separate game. (I have my own rant prepared on what I’ve heard about the game, but that is for another day and when I have actually completed the game and have a legitimate soapbox to stand on.)

Please, please inform me if Ezio or… someone? Some other game has an end credit scene with “their journey continues” after everything?

Maybe I’m not the target audience. Maybe I’m too happy with plot to be in the AC fandom. But, dammit, this is where you go to when you want to scream about your opinion and by golly who ever made it this far is going to hear it.

Like, okay, I felt so tired when I saw those words. I was taken right back to the MCU (which I love and adore) and just felt tired. The MCU, at the moment, is churning out, approximately, a fuckton of content at lightning speed. Usually, I can wrap my head around it and move on. But they are leaving no time to digest, very little time (imo) for me to settle into a character and form a connection before the next show/movie/short comes out! And they’re rushing (imo) after COVID with movies that can and should be, I don’t know, pushed back or reviewed or something.

However, I’m deviating a little bit. Sadly, not enough. Because I see those words in Assassin’s Creed, my little comfort murder video game who brought me into the bubble of video games that I didn’t leave and got me attached to these characters, and I am filled with… not even dread; I’m just tired of it.

Like, okay, you start a game with an assassin and Some Guy who happens to be his descendant. Okay, cool. Next game, you introduce another guy, sprinkle references to the first guy, and give the descendant some quirky friends. You then build on this group of people for the next two games (totaling four at this point) before introducing yet another family through the same guy. Then you kill the guy. It is a big, emotional scene, presumably with some implications and effects (affects?) and what-not. But the family stays. The next game, the family stays. But you waffle between protagonists for no less than four games. But at least everything is entwined!! At least you’re going after Juno, the quirky friends from earlier show up and help, everyone gets a sad fun reference through the games.

So then you start over.

You are over ten games into this franchise and you start over. To be fair, it’s with a new protagonist and it feels right. It’s a good decision! It pulls things more mythologically, but it works. Presumably, you’re setting things up. And then you bring up Atlantis. And you introduce an Isu. And there is very little progress in the modern world, even though (again, as far as I am fucking aware) there is a humanity-hating Isu in the internet probably fucking things up for people.

And after all of these games, which focus on death, dying, and the permanence of said death, you make one of the characters immortal. Like. Good sir, are you well? And then you tell me that this immortal character, which throws quite literally everything that was built up over ten-ish games into question, is showing up in the next game. No, no, not showing up, continuing her journey.

There are a few instances that will probably be brought up if anyone has really strong feelings against me disliking this.

Ezio had three games, why does it matter if Kassandra shows up again? Because!! This isn’t!!! Her game!!!! If this was Odyssey 2: Electric Boogaloo, so be it, go for it, very excited for you, honey, you’re doing great. But this is Eivor’s game. As in, about Eivor and their journey.

Well, what about Altair in Revelations? It’s basically the same thing and you liked that game? Yes, I did like that game. I liked it very much. But Altair had something going for him that Kassandra does not. Altair was dead. So very dead. Extremely, extremely dead in a way that does not effect Ezio in any way, shape, or form except as someone to be studied and put to rest. Kassandra? Alive. Very alive. Able to make active changes to her environment (and then they fucking killed her as soon as we figured it out, I swear, Ubisoft, I swear—).

Alright, well, Conner Kenway showed up in Liberation and he was living and breathing? Yeah, as a celebrity guest star. He lead Aveline around, helped her kill some people, stood around awkwardly in the snow, and called it a day. Like, if that is all it is, then my problems are zilch. You can ignore this whole rant and sit smugly with the knowledge that you have a good told-you-so ready as soon as I finish Valhalla. But dammit you don’t phrase things like Marvel if they only make a guest appearance (and if that is a thing, then shame on you. Keep the surprise).

I would like, as a fun change of pace, for game plots (if applicable) to be thought out. Just a little. Maybe even, and this is where I get ‘em, connected. I would like to see wtf Juno is up to at the moment. I would like to see Shaun and Rebecca again. I would like a tangible plot that connects all of the games and characters together in a way better than aesthetic.

But, again, that is more my personal grievances with the modern missions that needs it’s own angry rant.

Kassandra, sweet murder darling Kassandra, is really trying my patience here. Ideally, I play Valhalla, find out that the Abstergo and the Juno storylines were picked up, Kassandra shows up for a hot minute before fucking off to who-knows-where, and this whole rant is for nothing. Heck, I’d take one of the three at this point. Because, and I think I’ve tagged it now, I’m interested in their independent journeys.

Now, admittedly this gets a bit sketchy when talking about the Assassins. They’re like Batman. Everyone thinks they work alone until you look behind them and there is an army of adopted/blood family backing them up and doing their own thing.

AC1 is about Altair’s redemption. It’s also about Malik’s long hard road to forgiveness. If you really want to dip deep, it’s also Maria’s break-out role and Al Mualim’s descent into madness. Ezio’s trilogy is the rise of the Italian brotherhood and Ezio’s quest for vengeance, justice, and knowledge respectively. You can also find his mother and her dealings with grief, Claudia and her own coming-of-age story, as well as Leonardo’s grappling with the outcomes of his inventions. AC3 was about Connor’s work-life balance as he pursued vengeance and protecting the colonies through helping the revolution and his own little homestead. It was also intertwined with Achilles coming to terms with all of the death that preceded his life with Connor.

I could continue, but I think you get the point. My point is, these stories were all about the individuals, their own personal journeys through grief and heartache and morality, as well as their affects (effects?) on the ones surrounding them, the ones closest to them. By introducing Kassandra into Eivor’s tale, it takes away some of that individuality.

Kassandra already told her tale. (Hell, you fucking picked her tale out for her. But that is a can of worms I’ll explain later.) This is where the torch gets metaphorically passed and Eivor learns their own lessons. While these games are very much stab/slash/kill games, they are also about the meaning of choice and responsibility (especially when dealing with death). They push that these moral lessons are something that should be experienced and carefully examined by each individual.

And quite honestly, as long as Kassandra doesn’t get in the way of Eivor’s lessons? If Eivor gets their own tale, their own emotional journey, without clashing with Kassandra’s? Then, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be happy seeing my favorite misthios running around a different time.

#so that was long #And yes I know I’m late for ac odyssey #And I’m bound to be later for valhalla #But I was feeling feelings and decided this was the best way to rant about it #should I tag spoilers?#The game’s been out for how long now?#Idk I guess the tldr is I miss my boys (and Evie and Aveline and Shao Jun and Maria and Claudia and—)#like when I tell you I got emotional over the collage sequence at the end of the cult killing storyline #i got emotional #but I love Kassandra and Alexios sibling duo #Little disappointed that Deimos didn’t have a snake but I’ll live #just yelling into the void #assassin's creed #assassin’s creed odyssey #asasassin’s creed odyssey spoilers #spoilers #assassin’s creed valhalla #kassandra of sparta #ac eivor #altair ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #connor kenway #ratonhnhaké:ton #aveline de grandpre #ac juno #shaun hastings #desmond miles #rebecca crane

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whiteshipnightjar · 3 months

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Zoozve, my beloved

#i cannot tell you how much this made me smile just bc it's so full of love #moon #venus #zoozve #long post #sorry about that it's very long but it's very entertaining i hope you enjoy this lil zoozve gem haha #astronomy #astrophysics #space

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 months

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god I would be UNSTOPPABLE if I was capable of consistently initiating tasks. just you wait. you'll be waiting a while but just you wait

#executive dysfunction #shitpost #every day I get stuck in waiting mode for SO LONG and SO MANY TIMES #that one time I tried adhd meds it fixed it but then I. was like no I am going to be scared and not continue taking it <3 #and also. I simply did not like the psychologist and did not want to have to go back #so. rawdogging the world <3 #man if I could start a task right now...then you'd see...then you'd all see....

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coffinwoodx · 5 months

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ok so for those of you who don’t know, there’s this twitter account of a japanese local hero mascot named dentman who went viral recently due to this tweet

but yeah he saw the tweet. and his response went viral as well (which is how i found his account)

and he just has like. hourly posts reminding you to brush your teeth

oh and his rival? his name is mr. mutans. whenever dentman posts he makes a post of his own, ofc

but THAT’S NOT ALL. literally while making this post i found a THIRD ACCOUNT that’s all about taking your meds

safe to say i’m losing my mind

anyway the point of all this was that people are ALREADY beginning to draw them ship art 😭

and the reactions are everything

I CANT ADD ANY MORE IMAGES BUT TRUST ME THIS IS SO FUNNY

toxic one-sided dentman yaoi wasn’t on my 2024 bingo card but it DEFINITELY IS NOW!

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sparebutton · 11 months

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(Across the Spider-Verse spoiler)

#bro was so angry😭#I cannot wait for the next movie I need to see what happens next #across the spiderverse #marvel #miles morales #miguel o'hara #spider man #spider man 2099 #spider man across the spider verse #atsv #long titles are the death of me #my art #kind of

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 month

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The math just adds up!

#dungeon meshi #falin touden #marcille donato #farcille #I always loved how chapter 27 ends with them both so bloody and 28 starts with them in the bath.#not just because of how iconic the bathtub moment is but because you know they had to scrap off so much gore first.#I think everyone in the party took a very long and methodical bath but Falin was basically *all* blood*.#Being covered in blood is one of those 'just girly things' that women deserve to stop being shamed about.#I just don't think Chilchuck is progressive enough. He probably made them take a bath first B*/#Okay jestering aside I want to just highlight -#The magnitude of Marcille's joy at seeing her dearest friend again! Of holding her and sharing her presence in the same room!#Something about this reunion feels like a beautiful dream you are afraid of waking up from...

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powdermelonkeg · 4 months

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Important rules/tips I've learned as an adult that helped with anxiety

If people are mad at you, it's their responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess

If they're mad at you in secret anyways, they're the ones in the wrong, not you

If people don't like what you're doing, it's their responsibility to tell you

If they say it's fine when it's really not, they're the ones in the wrong, not you

People are allowed to be wrong about you

If they are wrong about you, wait for them to bring it up, because if you try to, you will inevitably overcorrect

Some people are committed to misunderstanding you. You will not win arguments against them. Yes, even if you explain your point of view. They do not care. Drop it

The worst thing that will happen from a first-time offense is being told not to do it again. Maybe with a replacement if you broke something

You can improve relationships and gauge willingness to talk to you by giving compliments. It's like a daily log-in bonus and nobody thinks twice about it

Most things are better after you sleep on them

Most things are better after you have a meal

Most things are better after you shower

Your brain makes up consequences that are irrational. If the worst DOES come to pass and someone acts like they do in your head, they are overreacting, and you are entitled to say "what the fuck"

If your chest hurts after you feel like you've made a social error, that's called rejection-sensitive dysphoria. It means your anxiety is so bad that it's causing you physical pain, which is a good indicator that you're overreacting. Tense yourself, hold it for 20 seconds, let it go, then find a distraction

If you're suddenly angry at someone after you feel like you made a social error, that's also rejection-sensitive dysphoria. You are going to feel annoyed about it for awhile, but being genuinely pissed off is your anxiety trying to find something to blame to take the responsibility off your shoulders, and getting scared because it can't justify itself. Deep breaths, ask yourself how much you ACTUALLY want to be angry at that person, then find a distraction

"Sour grapes" is more healthy for you than stewing. Deciding you don't like someone who's perpetually annoyed with you, won't talk to you, etc. makes letting go of anxiety over them easier

If people don't like you, they will find reasons to be annoyed with you when they otherwise wouldn't. If people do like you, they will find reasons NOT to be annoyed with you when they otherwise would. People do not ping-pong between the two

You DO have to make a conscious choice not to think about something. If you're having trouble circling back to it, say out loud that you're done thinking about it and why. Then find a distraction

When you're upset, part of you is going to want to make false bids for attention (suddenly texting differently, heavy sighs, etc. but when someone asks you about it, you tell them it's nothing). Do not listen to it. You gain nothing from it except more misery

People like to help people they care about. It makes them feel good about themselves

If you think you're insufferable for needing help, see above. Yes, really. They get a serotonin kick from it

If you think you're insufferable for mannerisms you have, you either have to consciously choose not to do them, or accept that they're part of the package that comes with you. Being apologetic about existing does nothing except make you more miserable

If you do things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it makes it easier to do them when you hate it

If you avoid things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it reinforces and magnifies how bad it feels when you hate it

Seriously. Read those last two points again. If you can make yourself make a phone call when you've got nothing to lose, you will slowly lose that panic you get when you have to make a phone call you haven't prepared for. You do have to CONSCIOUSLY take that step

Hobbies that make you care for something get rid of that nagging feeling that you're not doing enough. Go grow some rosemary

If you don't engage with your hobbies regularly, you will feel miserable, and anxiety will spike

Hobbies are things that give you a bit of happiness. They do not have to be organized or named to do that. Go be creative in something. Play with coins. Make up lists. Start a new WIP

No one cares what you look like

If people point out things they don't like about how you look unprompted, they are being rude. You are entitled to say "what the fuck"

People who like you will find you pretty to some degree. Minor things about your appearance go completely unnoticed. Literally, scars and dots and blemishes do not register to someone who likes your company

You looking at yourself in the mirror is 10x more closely than anyone is going to look at you

If you're anxious about your body type, and you're creatively inclined, make/write an oc with that same shape. Give them nice things and make other characters love them. Put them on adventures. You'll start to see yourself in the mirror more kindly

You care about wording and perfect lines/colors way more than anyone who views your work ever will

Sometimes when you're upset, you're going to feel like not eating. Do not do that. Not eating makes you more miserable

Same with things you normally enjoy. Denying yourself helps no one. You are punishing yourself for being sad. Stop it

Both of these will take conscious decision to break the habit of. Make yourself do it anyways, and it will slowly get easier

And again, to reiterate: If someone is mad at you, it is THEIR responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess

#anxiety #long post #i have been an adult for the better part of a decade and it has gotten SO much easier as i internalized these #swearing tw

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apollos-boyfriend · 6 days

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i was cuddling with my boyfriend last night when his shoulder started tensing up (like he was readjusting or gently pushing me off) and when i asked him if he was okay or needed me to move or something he went “no you’re fine, i was just imagining myself pulling a large rope. i didn’t even realize my shoulder was doing that lmao” then refused to elaborate and i have never been as attracted to him as i was in that moment.

#icarus speaks #apollo cameo #okay i’m lying a bit #he DID elaborate and say the rope was large in the sense that it was long #not just an overly thick rope #but other than that? nothing. the inner workings of their mind are so beautiful

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bulletproofheartless · 26 days

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#boops arent violent enough #now smack......#smack is some looney tunes type shit #i spent so long on this #boop #rambles

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bisexualvader · 1 month

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#haven't made a shitpost in so long i need to remind everyone that i am a clown #star wars #luke skywalker #darth vader #anakin skywalker #sw memes #star wars memes #star wars shitpost #return of the jedi #aaphra's stuff #sw crack #incorrect star wars quotes #incorrect quotes

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whatkindofnameisella · 3 months

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can you believe that we have fanfiction. that we have websites dedicated to fanfiction. that there is a place that you can go and read tens, hundreds, thousands and thousands of pieces of writing that strangers have made. people who are not "writers". people who come home at the end of the day and have feelings and say, i am going to put that into words. i am going to share those words. short, long, sweet, sad, horny, funny, wonderful words. we are all just human and we all love to make and remake and share that with others. can you believe that.

#ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #sometimes i can't even believe how much i myself have written. like i think i am not a writer. i am not doing enough. i do not write enough #and i look back and i have 34 (34!!) works on ao3 and reams of unpublished work on my computer and so long left to live. so i think #we will be okay.#writing

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wasabi-gumdrop · 9 days

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local ladies man’s signature move totally useless against autistic monster enthusiast. more on Kabru’s fumble era at 6

#i’ve seen so many interpretations of that 1 hr freeze frame of Kabru’s smile in ep 16 #he’s meeting his long time crush of course he’s trying to charm him #Kabru so obviously has a big fat giant crush on Laios #like atp in the story he’s tried to talk to him and get his attention so many times agjdjajdj #Laios is the human rubix cube he’s been searching for his entire life #everyone else is almost too easy for Kabru to pin down #Laios on the other hand … a treasure trove of autistic mystery #Kabru is so locked in #Kabru used signature move: charming smile #Laios: no effect!#there’s something so beautiful about the popular pretty boy entering his fumble era when his one true love turns out to be autistic #labru #laios touden #kabru of utaya #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #wasabi rambles #seen so many clock that smile as nefarious and machiavellian #baby no Kabru is just dialing the charm up to 100 and what we’re all feeling is second hand embarrassment LMAO

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hamletthedane · 3 months

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I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

#shut up e #long post #Saturday thoughts #this has been in my drafts for a week haha #also this is the heart of why AI art feels so wrong #forget the discussion of copyright and theft etc - even if models were only trained on public domain they would still feel very wrong #because they’re not art. art is the labor of creation #even commercial art and art commissioned by the popes and kings of history: there is humanity in the labor of it #unrelated: I did not know living in the Bronx was now something to brag about. How the fuck do y’all New Yorkers afford this city???

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