#and this includes being kind to myself too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andhumanslovedstories · 2 days

Text

I’ve been struggling lately with the feeling that my job is pointless. Intellectually I know it is not—nursing is one of those professions where you get to be real smug about knowing the value of your work. But it’s still felt very pointless. Like I’ll start a shift thinking, “what am I even doing here,” and end it thinking, “what have I actually even done.” It’s been a ROUGH couple months.

But I had a really good shift last time I worked, which was good for the soul and also a very useful data point. I got to do pain management advocacy and symptom management, met a bunch of cool patients, did education for new nurses, and had several long heart to hearts, which the kind of midnight heart to hearts that I think are the most important part of night shift, all of that while being well staffed with very pleasant and appreciative patients and coworkers, and I was still like. Pretty depressed. I had a sense of satisfaction and moments of joy and meaning, but it turns out that one good shift did not cure the depression that has been latched on to me for the last few months like some kind of fucked up mental health leech. As I realized I was still depressed and that it was still interfering with my life even when everything was going well, the sense of peace washed over me was the best I’d felt in a while. Because I was like, okay! None of my usual stuff as worked! I have no excuse not to try something new to get my brain out of the shit ditch it’s slipped into.

So I’m applying for short-term disability. I’m worried I won’t get it, and I’m not sure what the next step is if I get rejected, but I feel so much better having decided to pursue it. It’s so much fuckin paperwork for sure, to a degree that’s overwhelming except that that the form could be a checkbox that says, “you want money?” and I’d be like “THIS IS TOO MUCH.” I’m totally not writing this post instead of finishing an email to my manager. I’m definitely not writing this post to avoid dealing with coordinating all my various care providers. I’m certainly not at every moment worried that I’m secretly faking all this so I can get three to nine weeks of a cool summer vacation.

I was thinking about how I almost flunked nursing school in my final semester because I turned in assignments late for a class with a “no late homework” policy. The professor said that this was reflective of real life, where if you miss deadlines you’re just fucked. I ended up appealing my grade and passing, because frankly it was a weak reason for making me repeat a final semester when there was no issues with my actual work or knowledge. During my appeal, I was like “I also think this policy is ableist. Harsh penalties for late work hurt students with health problems, especially chronic health problems when you aren’t asking for one week off due to the flu but instead for a general and never ending flexibility. I’m not trying to make an excuse but explain why this policy is a bad one. Disabled healthcare workers are an asset to healthcare.” I’m trying to remember my own argument as I pursue help. My depression and ADHD and eating disorder do help me be a better nurse, not because like depression gives you superpowers, but because I manage my chronic illnesses every day, in ways that range from hardly noticeable to life or death. Being kind to patients means being kind to myself, and vice versa.

I’m rambling. I really do not want to do this paperwork or send these emails. And I’m not sure if I deserve the leave I’m trying to take. But I miss being love with my job. I miss enjoying it. I wouldn’t judge someone else for going on medical leave, and my job doesn’t want me to burn out or quit. It almost feels like I have to be skeptical of applying for leave because no one else is. Everyone I’ve spoken to has been very supportive, including my manager. And considering how many unpaid days off I’ve had to take lately, disability leave would be an improvement over some of my recent paychecks. All in all, short-term disability makes sense and seems like a reasonable response to circumstances. But FUCK. I wish it required like 90 percent less documentation.

#nursing tag

256 notes · View notes

doberbutts · 21 hours

Note

Hello, I’m mixed and I know you’re mixed too so I’m hoping for some advice. My mom is white and my dad is Native American (technically he is indigenous to canada the tribe he is from but I just say Native American because it is easier to explain, ‘native Canadian’ sounds weird 😭) and I’m sure you know things r really bad for indigenous people in Canada even more so than in America so when my dad was young his parents managed to save enough money to move to America many years ago, anyway I guess none of that is important besides the fact that I’m mixed.

Basically, I am involved in a fandom with many mixed-race characters that I love. None that are specifically mixed like I am (well besides one character whose mom is native and dad is white, though his mom was never revealed it’s a popular fan theory so I’ll just go with it) and other notable mixed characters are Arab/white, Chinese/white, etc. Writing this out I kind of realize that all of these mixed characters are mostly half white lol. But, that is also kind of the problem.

I’ve noticed a real… I don’t want to say racist but really discriminatory and hurtful attitude towards these mixed characters that really hurts my feelings as a mixed person myself. Basically people ignoring their mixed heritage and opting to just refer to them as ‘Arab’ and ‘Chinese’ and whatnot. Which is fine on the surface, but then I see people start talking about how disgusting it is that these characters have a white parent and that it would be much better if they were ‘pure’ POC. Which is really… hurtful as someone who is mixed with a white parent. Sorry I’m not ‘pure’ enough for your liking?? I guess? What is the point of them even saying things like that? And I guess I want to know how I can bring it up to these people without them getting angry at me. I got really mad one time and said that trying to erase a mixed characters other parent is trying to erase their identity and you can’t just choose to accept half of someone you have to accept ALL of them or you accept no part of them but they just block me.

I don’t know I feel like they’re trying to be well meaning even if it’s in a really hurtful way, but then when I try to correct them they don’t even care so can I really call it well meaning? They outright ignore the fact that the characters are canonically mixed and choose to just present them as ‘pure POC’ which they act like it’s somehow ‘superior’ to being mixed. I already don’t fit in anywhere I go and I feel like neither side will ever accept me and now I feel like this pervasive fandom attitude just kind of confirms all my fears. Sometimes I wish I was fully one or the other. I liked your other posts about being mixed and how you weren’t ‘half’ of anything you were fully all of them and I’m trying to internalize that but all these people and their hurtful comments make it hard. Like they’re not making these comments about me specifically, but I see what they say about fictional characters that are like me so it’s :/

I guess I just want to know how to convince them that mixed people are worthy of telling stories about too and how we aren’t lesser just because we are mixed? How do I tell these people to get over their discomfort with acknowledging the heritage of mixed characters? I’m not very good at articulating these sorts of things.

And sorry this was so long 😢

This is a bit of an older ask, and I've left it sit in my askbox for a while because I'm honestly not sure if I even have any advice for you.

The biggest things I suppose would be

A: remember that fandoms really aren't known for acknowledging the nuance of, like, literally anything that can be polarized. Unfortunately, that includes race and racial mixing.

B: sometimes you have to be the change you want to see. And I know. I know it sucks when you always have to be that person. But sometimes that is truly the only solution. Exist happily as yourself, be content in your own mixed race identity, talk about it when you feel up to it, and those who see it will be touched by you. Perhaps they may even catch on, and start to spread a healthier way of looking at the mixed race characters within your fandom.

C: stop giving a shit what other people think. Be you. You will find people who love you for you. Fuck all the others who reject you for being yourself, and don't force yourself into an easily digestible box for those who would barely glance your way regardless.

34 notes · View notes

changingplumbob · 3 days

Text

New Goth: Chapter 4, Part 12

The week wraps up!

James: How did it go

Ariadne: *sighs* not great. The principal made me feel small, the teacher sprung exams on me and some girl made fun of my hair

Milton: I think your hair is pretty

James: I taught a lot of teens. Often they will pick something random to make fun of, something that isn’t actually bad, they just make you think it is. Did you do your hair yourself

Ariadne: *quietly* Just the colour. I went to a proper place to get it cut

James: We can get you a salon appointment to maintain the colour if you like but do it for you, not because some girl had an issue. If you like to dye it yourself, keep doing it

Ariadne: Thanks James. Oh and I met Carson, he seemed nice

James: Harvey’s youngest? I haven’t met him myself but I’ve met the next oldest. The brothers don’t get along from what I hear but the family are nature loving so he could be a good friend option

Ariadne: I hope you don’t mind but I invited some kids over after dinner. Hopefully they can be friend options to

James: This is your home, invite over all the friend options you want

Milton: Good thing you didn’t invite them before dinner

Ariadne: Why

Alexander: I’m home! Did you tell her?

James: Ah. Well we want to properly welcome you so Alexander’s sister and her family will be coming for dinner

Ariadne: For me?

Alexander: Of course, you’re important

After a quick small family photo the Chopra’s arrive and Ariadne has a chance to meet them all.

Cassandra: And my youngest is Viola, she’s still learning to talk

Ariadne: Hi there

Viola: *shyly* hi

Alexander: Care to help me cook Rahul

Rahul: Of course, I brought some herbs I think would be good in the pasta

Viola: Ari… up?

Cassandra: Don’t feel like you have to play with her, she’s a bit wild

Ariadne: I don’t mind. Come on Viola, let’s have fun

Savannah: See Milton, you’re meant to treat us like that

Milton: You’re meant to treat Viola like that

Mercedes: *sighs* shut up

James: Do you think it’s twins again

Cassandra: I don’t know, I’m definitely getting stronger symptoms than the last pregnancy

Ariadne: Are you excited for another sibling Viola

Viola: Ye ye

Cassandra: She’s always- ohhhh

Alexander: Are you okay sis? Is it the pregnancy

Cassandra: Kind of…

Rahul: *chuckles* I know that kind of

Alexander: What does it mean

Rahul: Do you feel too nauseous to have the pasta sauce darling?

Cassandra: *sighs* Sorry

Rahul assures her it's fine and talk turns to an alternative dinner plan.

Ariadne: The spice festival is on, do you think you could eat something from there

James: Good idea. How about we go out instead?

Twins: YES

Everyone manages to find something they can swallow at the festival even if the lighting is being stupid! Looks like Devin is gracing us with her presence and a performance!!! No one tell her my lighting is this bad. The lack of proper light does send us home pretty quickly though. Ariadne has invited some kids from school after all and Joey is going to come for a game or two.

Scarlett: Damn girl your house is massive

Ariadne: What can I say? Rich parent perks

Rodger: My household is the same size as yours, cats included, and we live in a relative shoebox

Ariadne: Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come across as-

Rodger: It’s fine. Everywhere is a shoebox compared to this place

Ariadne: You’re not utterly disappointed in me?

Scarlett: *laughs* Nope. Girl I'd brag about it to

Rodger: What can I say? You give us something to aspire to

The trio burst out laughing and Ariadne feels like she could finally be making some friends.

Joey: Zooming by on your left

Alexander: Hey that was an illegal driving move

Milton: Alexander, there’s no illegal driving moves in this game

James: Hurry up love, I’m going to lap you soon

Alexander: I don’t get how you’re all so good at this

Joey: Practice and technical know how. Hey, who threw that banana?

James: It was Milton

Milton: It was not me, Uncle James is lying

Joey: It’s okay Milton, I believe you

James and Milton leave once the game is over and Alexander takes the opportunity to talk to Joey.

Alexander: You know how James and I have adopted Ariadne?

Joey: I haven’t got a proper introduction but yeah

Alexander: I need to know you won’t sleep with her

Joey: Dude! She’s a teenager. I like to screw but I don’t have a screw loose

Alexander: I know but she won’t always be 13 and I don’t need you laying on your charm and breaking her heart, ever. No matter how hot she may grow up to be, don’t sleep with my daughter

Joey: What if she makes a move on me once she ages up? You know boobs distract me

Alexander: You drag your eyes up and say, no thank you, your dad is one of my best friends and I will not cross that line

Joey: Agreed, I’m never going to sleep with any kid of yours... I did want to woohoo your mum though

Alexander: *laughs* I knew it!

With Joey heading home Alexander goes and makes sure Milton is heading to bed. Milton is actually busy talking to his friends online though…

Alexander: Come on, bedtime. How are you getting on with Mum’s journals

Milton: *sighs* fine. I wish she was here to tell me abut her life instead of me needing to read it

Alexander: I miss her to Milton, every day

Milton: You don’t think she’d be mad I’m reading them do you?

Alexander does his best to assure Milton it’s fine and get the boy to sleep. In her room Ariadne has said goodbye to her visitors and is trying her luck at the flower arranging table. She planted some but has quite a few left over to play around with.

Alexander: So Mr Dad how are you doing

James: *chuckling* I’m good, really good. Ariadne seems to be settling in although she had a rough day at school

Alexander: She told you that? That's not great but I guess that’s better than lying to our faces. We should do something this weekend to cheer her up

James: Did you have something in mind

Alexander: She’s a teen girl so… shopping?

James: Do you just want to go shopping

Alexander: *laughs* Maybe, but her being honest with us should be rewarded right?

James: You are going to be a much better dad than you think love

The household falls into slumber and we leave them for now.

Previous ... Next (Villareal)

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #my sims #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #R0905 #JamesGoth #MiltonGoth #AriadneSterlingFromBakersimmer #AlexanderGoth #CassandraChopra #RahulChopra #ViolaChopra #SavannahChopra #MercedesChopra #ActiveSimblr

28 notes · View notes

velvetvexations · 22 hours

Note

it’s so bizarre to me that you never, EVER reblog or post anything about transmisogyny or the transfem experience. like, can you even recommend any transfem-centric blogs for me to follow? for someone so into “solidarity” your trans activism seems pretty focused on trans men only

So there are multiple things going on with this ask.

As I've explained several times before - I don't necessarily blame you for not seeing it, but I have - most social issues give me panic attacks to contemplate. The thing I mentioned triggered me so badly yesterday was something in the transmisogyny tag that wasn't tagged with anything I had blacklisted (not that OP's fault, I added more variations of transphobia warnings so it hopefully won't happen again).

Intercommunity issues are less existential. Things like hate crimes and legislative assaults on queer people freak me out and leave me a shaking, crying, doomscrolling mess. I don't even follow like, literally any of the people who followed me for transandrophobia advocacy because they reblog other things that gives me heart palpitations.

That limits my exposure to intercommunity issues facing transfems specifically as well, the vast majority of people I follow don't put any discourse on my dash at all. However, I have in fact reblogged posts purely about transmisogyny (other than the kind transandrophobes throw at me lol) only to immediately delete them when I see the OP is vile towards transmascs in other posts, completely spoling the message. At least one was even specifically about ways transmascs can be transmisogynistic, which I thought was a fair enough criticism before realizing it was at best one good point in a sea of bullshit directed at our trans brothers. Another time I specifically asked someone how they felt about trasnmascs before I reblogged their very good post about transmisogyny and was delighted when they gave a fantastic response.

Furthermore, I do actually just speak on pure transmisogyny myself sometimes! I talked at length about the immense pain it caused me realizing Alison Bechdel was TERFier than I thought in a way that completely contradicts the strip that made me cry out of appreciation for her. Recently, I've also been talking a lot about the ways butch transfems are treated for not looking cis.

Do I mention these things less than transandrophobia and other issues that affect people other than transfems? Sure. But like...so what? I like doing things for other people.

I don't mean to act like I'm some kinna savior or anything, but as I said just yesterday, helping people outside of your own issues is something I'm kinna obsessed with not just in myself but others too. I'm constantly stressing how cis allies should be appreciated e.g. my previous feelings about Bechdel, and despite how she turned out I still firmly believe that cis allies should be treasured. I've donated money to multiple cis allies to say thanks for their statements.

It's not like I'm just so saintly selfless or anything like that, I'm very self-centered, it's just that being an ally to [x], [x] being allies to me, and [x] being allies to [y] who have nothing to do with me is not only a rare area of activism I can function in, it's one that actively brings me joy. This includes having sent multiple messages to transmascs thanking them when they speak up about transmisogyny, because I want to show them the love so many of them have shown me for the same thing.

Finally, you say my trans activism is focused on trans men. Maybe so, by volume. But, and I've mentioned this before, I've been wanting to do more for everyone else as well, literally everyone. I've asked a bit about intersex issues and am trying to learn more about what non-binary people who don't lean to one end or the other deal with as well, and I also want all my cis followers to feel just as comfortable and supported by me as well - and, of course, that all goes for other transfems as well, whose pain cuts me to the bone.

I'm radically pro-everyone, anon, and I want to help uplift them all without exception. I understand focusing on one's own lane, and I neither judge that nor am attempting to portray myself as a uniquely noble white knight. That's just what I personally choose to put my efforts towards.

#transmisogyny

26 notes · View notes

killercooksblog · 11 hours

Note

An email has been sent in relation to the brownie challenge. Inside is a link to a video.

Baking Mama: KillerCook Baking Challenge!

Hey It's me! Mama Sheath! I'm here today with IRL Blorbo (depicted as Kaku as per his request to keep his image off the internet). Today we are participating in Killer's Secret Brownie Baking Challenge! For those who don't know the rules, the challenge is to make brownies with a secret ingredient—not THAT kind of ingredient—and describe them for others to guess what your secret ingredient is.

I'll be honest, I went SUPER unconventional for these with a lot of the ingredients, but the one in particular I will not mention is the aim. My inspiration came from my nephew being a fussy eater, and things that can be done to make even desserts more healthy while still being delicious!

So for the process of this recipe, some items got blended together to make it easier to combine, mostly all of the wet ingredients. Chocolate chips were added and blended as well. I was not surprised by the color given the secret ingredient. IRL Blorbo wasn't either, but he expected it to be darker.

I used greek yogurt, maple syrup and honey (I ran out of maple syrup and needed it to be a little sweeter and straight sugar would have been too much), vanilla bean paste, eggs, and the secret ingredient.

Once it was mixed in with the dry ingredients, though, most of the color went to what you would expect brownies to be.

The dry ingredients included oat flour, cocoa powder, Semi sweet chocolate chips, baking powder and a little salt. Everything was then poured into some baking pans and baked 350°F for 40 minutes.

YAY! IT'S READY!

I was was not all that surprised with how dense and moist they came out, and they are very much on the rich side. The texture is almost a cross between a souffle and a brownie. I was surprised there was no earthiness to it, and it just tastes like the most decedent brownie you've ever had in your life!

So of course I made ice cream to go with it.

May or may not still be in a food coma.

When I asked IRL Blorbo his thoughts, he was not helpful as he answered with full cheeks: "Tastes like brownie." I then asked him what the texture was like, and he answered, again, with "Brownie"

It's a damn good thing he's cute, because he was NO HELP!

I do feel once baked, the color was a little almost purpley looking, which surprised me, and it really does just taste like brownie, so I can't be that mad at IRL Blorbo.

Well with that, I wish you luck on guessing my ingredient. I will leave a hint as I play myself out!

"Shout Your Lungs Out" (Will redirect to Spotify)

Thank you to Mama and Kaku for the submission. Loved the detail for plating, and your story! I was stumped on this one for DAYS. My final guess, is BEETS. If that's the case, I'm simply amazed at how you took so many routes to make a truly authentic, and overall healthier, dessert for your nephew!

Also, is your blorbo just Kid? Because he is just as unhelpful!! jkjk...but also 🔪 as a warning

@yamiyamiart for the Gordon Ramsay slay

#KC baking challenge #massacre soldier killer #kid pirates #swampstew stories #killercook #mamaalpha #yamiyamiart #im gonna post the whole page of sketches soon i swear

18 notes · View notes

starry-bi-sky · 2 months

Text

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well:

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents.

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill.

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.)

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one.

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself.

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.)

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.)

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe.

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal.

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking.

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter.

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind.

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous.

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own.

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t.

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward.

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”)

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell.

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his.

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it.

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now.

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own.

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother.

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten.

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands.

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely.

It is a fast dream.

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods.

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him.

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal.

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train.

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.)

—---

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again.

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person.

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.)

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird.

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is.

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off.

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom.

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.)

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

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

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #amnesiac danyal al ghul au #songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart #musician danny has my heart and soul #yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks #implied good mom talia al ghul #danyal is a momma's boy send tweet #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc prompts #dp x dc au #dp x dc fanfic #danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au #no beta no edits we die like danny fenton #poc danny fentons #i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on.#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense #ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later #morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it #since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous #phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:].#danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨#danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪#am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe #not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him

386 notes · View notes

cathalbravecog · 9 months

Text

i'm the antonymph of the internet

#how many tributes to this song will i make in my life #MANY ! it literally changed my life and means a lot to me. i love antonymph and vylet pony's music is worth checking out - please do.#unsupervised internet access as a queer neurodivergent kid anthem !!#i chose to do misty since we all know i like drawing her in experimental pieces and putting her in outfits. she also has art in a gir hoodi #from the clash team in treasure trove!! :D #this is also experimental/stylistic as well!! had fun!! nice to just draw something in one day and not worry. leaves me tired but...#haven't done a nice piece like so in one day in a while!!! i'm very proud :] it's a fun one #anyways... both a little tribute to the song and misty as a character #ihave so many thoughts about misty even if i dont talk publicly on them. shes a very interesting character to me and i care about her so #much. i compared her to fluttershy in the past - and realized that if i liked ttcc as a kid she would've been my favorite.#fluttershy on her own meant a lot to me as a child. including mlp itself as it's one of the core things that got me into drawing art online #a lot of my analysis on misty and headcanons at least on the more emotional scale do come from a bit of projecting but...it makes it more #fun to me when i can put myself into the shoes of a character like her who i already relate to. rrghh too bad im scared to talk about her #too much in nuanced detail in public since some people are... not so nice about her. though i know the tumblr audience is nice and unders #standing!!#anyways from me just having fun being me #i let misty have a little bit of fun... something i think she would possibly enjoy? i do see her as someone who gets nostalgic #and is stuck in more childish things and matters. she wants to play ip dip with you...its very sweet to me. letting myself and her be #confident through a song that means so much to me is kind of powerful to me. i had a lot of fun making this drawing.#anyways. love this song. love ttcc. love mity /p. be swag and be self indulgent and have fun. you can do anything u want forevah #toontown #toontown corporate clash #antonymph #guz art #rainmaker

51 notes · View notes

loserifer · 3 days

Note

Hey who's your fav ship in hh?! lucililith?

haha i wouldn't really say i have one! i don't ship characters much anymore. if they have fun chemistry together though, or are canon like lucifer and lilith, ill appreciate and explore their dynamic.

husk and angel stand out the most for me. they get on well, and have the most interesting stuff going on with their characters individually as well as together. lucifer and lilith are fun for me to think about too, but only when they're apart/divorced, given lucifer is still in love with her and is really depressed about the separation lol

#ray speaks #ask #huskerdust #lucilith #i wish i could include charlie and vaggie on this list because i think theyre interesting too but its all headcanon and speculation rn #charlie seems like shes being setup as a well-meaning and determined but overall kind of prejudice person #and vaggie i believe is being setup to have codependency issues with no real sense of identity #so i find that intriguing to consider #but the show hasnt really addressed that stuff yet. theyve only lain the groundwork down in bits and pieces for me to put together myself #which is fine. but it does mean i have a hard time connecting with their characters atm

14 notes · View notes

casiavium · 10 months

Text

All of these "who has more anything gender!" polls are just. white man without extreme body builder muscles v white man without extreme body builder muscles. The gender is "masculine" stop pretending it's universal

#even worse is when it's 'tradionally feminine' v 'traditionally masculine (without super ripped muscles' and the notes are all #she's the opposite of gender he's THE only gender ever.#'gender' isn't even androgynous anymore it's just some guy #vent post #idk I'm just kind of 😬 about people not seeing binary girl or even predominantly feminine as 'gender' whatever the fuck that means #you like androgyny when it's on twinks but don't think the butch lesbian that only calls herself a woman is 'gender' huh #and something about genderfluid characters only ever being accepted when they're in their 'not cis' presentation (cough ze l da)#like..i consider myself genderfluid and sometimes have guy-adjacent euphoria days #(still think about everyone who he/hims me when I cosplay Link ❤️)#but... I get just as much when I'm wearing what's 'expected' of me like skirts and dresses and makeup and am seen as a girl #because a lot of times growing up i wasn't really included in the girl stuff but was still too girl for the boy things :/#and I feel like. everything focuses on the andro of androgynous that they forget androgynous doesn't mean vaguely fem guy #it's like. shiek is winning the gender poll. but zelda wouldn't. even though they're the same person and one doesn't exist without the other #nonbinary but the binary isn't girl-boy it's trans-cis #nice dichotomy idiot #what lies outside of it

12 notes · View notes

toastsnaffler · 4 months

Text

everyone say thank u to my roommate for going to visit her parents this weekend so I can jack it loud and nasty 🙏

#i love her but there are some benefits to having the flat to myself.... love getting to wander around in just my boxers + a tshirt too #things i could do while she was still here if i wasnt a pussy 🙄#jk itd just make her uncomfortable and im too respectful for that #having a lowkey crush on her is an endless comedy to me bc we would be so woefully incompatible romantically #and also sexually.. historically ive only ever stone topped bc ive never been comfortable enough w anyone to let them fuck me #despite very much Not being stone or exclusively a top. and i think shes some form of sex repulsed anyway so like. sits there dead silence #and also shes so in love with her other friends and i showed up late to that party.... ive been feeling kinda guilty lately bc ik-#she misses them a lot and wishes we'd be able to stay roommates w them too. and im a pretty poor replacement for them tbh #and i love spending time with her but whenever i do i feel kinda painfully aware im not them like i could never fill that space #and asking to hang out more with her always feels like im taking away from time she could be talking to them. or even being alone ik she-#likes her own company and i get that a lot too so its chill but ahh.. man #i dont mean this in a bitter or jealous way at all like theyre all such sweet ppl i couldnt ever hold it against them #theyre kind of a 3 headed cerberus type situation and im like. the stray puppy they found on the side of the road #theres nothing they can do differently i was just born to be alienated from other ppl forever until i die. and someday i hope ill-#finally get used to it and accept i wont ever feel like im enough for anyone else or feel like anything else is enough for me #old wounds healed over 5082 times that still hurt to touch but i cant help pressing my fingers into them anyway bc its a familiar pain etc #anyway lost where i was going with this its just been on my mind again recently. i hate to be pitied i hate to feel like im only included-#bc they didnt want me to feel left out i hate feeling like a shoddy secondhand stand-in and its been a lot of that lately #also been a little annoyed bc sometimes it feels like shes trying to micromanage my social life and girl. we're not close enough for that #im sure its well intentioned but im not part of what they have going on i cant compete in that ring so dont try to push me into it..#ahhh. its all ok tho one of the guys is coming to visit next month which will be rly fun but ill try to give them some space too #its good at least im doing this processing now bc group situations can be spike traps of triggers for me sometimes #regardless of how good friends i am w ppl and ive already had a wobble a few weeks ago w how i cope and i dont want it to become a #fully fledged regular issue again bc its so hard to crawl back out of that pit. anyway losing coherence here im gonna stop rambling #and go make myself an early dinner and then back to drawing........#sorry for long tags if ur reading this blows u a kiss but go find a better use of ur time girl!!#.diaries

4 notes · View notes

the-greek-mythos-project · 13 days

Text

The Greek Mythos Project: What We Accept Within Submissions

Hello everyone, it is once again Camila here and I am writing this post because I decided I should probably clarify things sooner than later. I know I and quite a few other lovely people can struggle with open barriers within things, especially in such a large and "imposing" project, so I decided to write down the general specifics of things to lessen everyone's anxiety. This can and will definitely be improved if we are given more information/questions/asked for clarification so feel free to check every once in a while or reach out if you don't see a specific question you have answered. This is once again here to promote better communication within things and break down this large project to more manageable things. So, let's get into it!

[Note: This post will go from the broader, more unspecific, topics to the smaller, more specific ones so feel free to scroll down or up as you please :)]

The Biggest Thing First! One Singular POV. This is something that I, Camila, want for the project and therefore, it will be the most enforced thing within here. Don't worry, though! We will be releasing a Second Work alongside this main project consisting of things that didn't quite fit into the original project, such as works that aren't exactly (or at all) one POV but still want to be recognized or OC pieces that are like reincarnations of various gods/mortals/characters which I'll get into later. So you work has a place with us, I promise you <3.

Anyway, back to the One Singular POV thing. It genuinely does not matter whether the piece is First Person, Second Person, Third Person, or something within those parameters as long as the setting, scene, thoughts, and work are being described in that one character's thoughts/experiences. A great example of this in Third Person is in the Heroes of Olympus by Rick Riordan, a popular YA Book Series centering around Greek Mythology in a Modern Setting told by their Demigod Children, where the narrative is in Third Person POV but it only ever follows whoever's POV it's in. Such as we do see the character's actual name and "he/she/they" instead of "I" but we're not privy to anything other than what the character is experiencing.

That is what I am asking for, and I am asking for this mostly for myself!) As we all may know by now, this project was created because I--Camila--took one look at my goal to rewrite the entirety of Greek Mythology in my search to learn more about the Greek Myths, was like "yeah... no," and then proceeded to make this public with the intent to bring out those niche writers, gain a community, make friends, and generally learn more about the various communities and ideas surrounding such a vast and deep thing such as Greek Mythology (remember, people not only know this across the globe, but across centuries. It's not just our ideas and the original texts, it's the Roman Empire's thoughts, the Rise of Christianity, all of our forefathers, and even those who we have read dissecting these things and creating academic papers or other works. It's just so interesting how much character and change and even how much influence various things have had on our modern perceptions). But, this is also a Project, this is also mine, and so I am very politely asking for it to be One POV of a Greek Mythological Character--However Niche They May Be--Only.

Thank you so much for understanding and, again, I will be hosting a Secondary Fic for all the things that don't quite fit under this Main Project but may still want to have the recognition/community that this comes with <3.

Note!! Because this post ended up being a little long and would be hard to properly organize going further, the rest of it will be comprised in reblogs <33

#The Greek Mythos Project #Greek Mythology #to do a quick and basic summarization of the rest because I don't know when I'll be able to get it out there:#yes OCs can be included as long as the POV is of a canonical main character #yes you can reuse old published works (& you can also provide their links so we can give the original posts some love)#AUs are undecided on where they will be placed among here #(they'll either be clearly labeled within the project or have their own Work)#will definitely be rewriting all these posts later down the line but they should serve as something #and we all deserve some human error over here don't we #and sorry if I'm being really repetitive #...they kind all revolve around the same thing #just let me know if I need to actually clean up this post or clarify something bc I cannot trust my own perception of myself #I am; and I quote; “my own worst asshole” and it can be applied to me doing stupid shit to myself or being a perfectionist <3 #but yeah #hope this helps and yeah #once I write most of these little posts clarifying things I'll definitely rewrite everything to make them more cohesive #bc we learning as we go along too!!#/pos /gen #...did I miss anything?

2 notes · View notes