It actually did take me just one comment and a few kudos on my recent fic to get me back into the groove of outlining and planning for succeeding chapters.
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I think there should be a limit to how many Illnesses you experience at one time, it’s not fair that they’re allowed to stack endlessly
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eleven is fascinating to me because he came right off the back of tens horrible traumatic breakdown after he lost everything and he immediately tried to establish himself as the opposite of that. he is funny and goofy and almost childlike, and he bulldozes on in his adventures with amy like nothing happened at all. but then something happens and his masks slips and it's like oh! the core of this man is still anger. he is so so angry all of the time and this façade is the only thing stopping him from being consumed by it. he isn't over any of it and he hasn't moved on. he is wearing a fez and laughing but under that all that exists is age old anger and grief and it is going to consume him
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In general quite fascinating how "boys who liked bionicle are girls now" is called "gender essentialism" by like Radqueer Terfs DNI posters but "the thread of Girlhood Uterus Vulva Trauma connects all (cis) butches and trans men, so that's why I can reblog photos of trans men to my men dni blog in my #dyke tag" isn't. Lmao
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Zeuszilla? Zuezilla? Zeusilla???? Idk but it's trending on Twitter rn
Anyway, my contribution haha I'll just put this here and disappear!
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just in case you're wondering how bad antisemitism is online by now: my friend had to take down the memorial post she made on IG for her dad and stepmum (who died less than a week ago) bc people were spamming it with "free palestine" and "two less zionists is a good thing" comments
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you wanted to be a good friend, because you loved your friends, but the truth was that everyone else somehow had a pamphlet on being normal that you never received. most of the time you learn by trial-and-error. you are terrified of the next big mistake you make, because it seems like the rules are completely arbitrary.
you've learned to keep the prickly parts of your personality in a stormcloud under your bed - as if they're a second version of you; one that will make your friends hate you. it feels feral, burning, ugly.
instead, you have assembled habits based on the statistical likelihood of pleasing others. you're a good listener, which is to say - if you do speak up, you might end up saying the wrong thing and scaring off someone, but people tend to like someone-who-listens. or you've got no true desires or goals, because people like it when you're passive, mutable. you're "not easy to fluster" which is to say - your emotions are fundamentally uninteresting to others around you; so you've learned to control them to a degree that you can no longer really feel them happening.
you have long suspected something is wrong with you, but most of the time, googling doesn't help. you are so-used to helping-yourself, alone and with no handbook. the reek of your real self feels more like a horrible joke - you wake up, and, despite all your preparations, suddenly the whole house is full of smoke. the real you is someone waiting to ruin your other-life, the one where you're normal and happy. the real-self is unpredictable, angry.
your real self snarls when people infantilize the whole situation. because if you were really suffering, everyone seems to think you'd be completely unable to cope. but you already learned the rules, so you do know how to cope, and you have fucking been coping. it's not black-and-white. it's not that you are healed during the other times - it's just that you're able to fucking try. and honestly, whenever you show symptoms, it's a really fucking bad sign.
because the symptoms you have are ugly and unmanageable for others. your symptoms aren't waifish white girl things. they're annoying and complicated. they will be the subject of so many pretentious instagram reels. if they cared about you, they'd just show up on time. you care, a lot, so deeply it burns you. you like to picture a world where the comments read if they loved you, they'd never need glasses to see. but since that's a rule you've seen repeated - "one must never be late or you are a bad friend" - you constantly worry about being late and leave agonizingly early. there are no words for how you feel when you're still late; no matter how hard you were trying.
so you have to make up for it. you have to make up for that little horrible real you that you keep locked in a cabinet. you are bad at answering emails so every project you make has to be perfect. you are weird and sensitive so you have to learn to be funny and interesting. you are an inconvenience to others, so you become as smooth as possible, buffing out all the rough parts.
all this. all this. so people can pass their hands over you and just tell you just the once -how good you are. you're a good friend. you're loveable.
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ffxiv is a great game and all but why does no one tell you that the process of making an alt is literally just
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hello mcr girlies. which mcr song is YOUR song i mean like 'this song gets me like no one else has ever got me this is the greatest piece of music ever to be created etc etc etc' the song no one understands like you understand.
i'll go first. mine is Summertime
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Once again saw someone yell on here about how "nobody is going to report this aaah the media is evil", closed this app and not even a minute later saw a report with that exact content on a major news platform. Ngl this phrasing is rapidly being added to the list of things i won't reblog on principle.
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