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abiiors · 1 month

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ok i had a full nights sleep. i am coherent. i am fixing to copy/paste the tweets here for your enjoyment. its a lot.

ok so parx twit had a “trend” on unpopular opinions about the band during the sneaking out of heaven tour (their most recent one) one person said this

“Had to be said. You forgot his over dependence on nyquil and sleep drugs that borderlines abuse, he claims he's straight edge though ✨”

she deleted and posted a noted app apology

“Hey friends, I'm writing this to you, not just as an apology for writing dumb shit on twitter with no thought behind it, but to also share that I do suffer from my own personal addiction to pain medication, and have been since I was 17. Addiction is a real thing, it's a problem and it should be talked about, but not at the expense of others and making baseless assumptions. We all know where false acusations can lead, and it's never a good time. I've been reflecting on my previous inflammatory tweet about Awsten and his use of Nyquil and I want to say that I am truly sorry for my, dumb, offensive and very thoughtless tweet. I didn't stop to think before I wrote something so dumb and hurtful and I'm sorry for that. I'm not perfect, l'm human and I make mistakes. I know I fucked up hard and I'm sorry to anyone that was offended by my words. I can delete a tweet, but I can't take away the fact that I wrote it, and that it's out there causing anger to people, so l'm acknowledging that, and owning my mistakes. I am also very greatful to the people that took the time to educate me on this, I always appreciate any guidance. Moving forward I want to do better, internet etiquette is hard to get right especially when you're in a fandom spanning multiple generations and culture's but l'm definately gonna try harder.”

awsten saw the tweets and now that tour has been over for a while he has responded.

“HEY AND BTW WHEREVER THAT ACORNBRAIN WALMARTMOUTH BREATHING TWITTER DULLED CLOWN IS AT THAT SAID I HAVE A DRUG PROBLEM BC I TAKE ZZZQUIL TO SLEEP IN A BUS ON A THIN ASS MATTRESS, I APPRECIATE UR CONCERN AND I HAVENT HAD ANY SINCE TOUR ENDED, YOU CURED ME OF MY ADDICTION”

“GET COOKED WORMBREATH DUMBASS !!! I HOPE YOURE LIKE 14 BECAUSE IF YOURE OPERATING LIKE THIS AT FULLY GROWN, I FEEL SO SAD FOR YOU HAHA PAINT DRINKER”

he quoted a tweet with this after that.

“THIS AND THEN SELF-RIGHTEOUS PEOPLE SMELLING BLOOD IN THE WATER SWOOP IN TO PAT THEMSELVES ON THE BACK AND ABSOLVE THEM LIKE A PRIEST SAYING "we weren't trying to cancel u we wanted to hold you accountable thank you" LMFAO0000000 I LAUGH EVERY TIME, ITS A FULL CIRCLE OF STUPID”

“it's either a notes app apology or an "i'm taking a break" and they go priv and come back in like two days” ^quoted tweet

he also tweeted a picture of a confessional with “you are… forgiven”

“DUMBEST HILLS HAVE EYES MUTANTS ON HERE WILL BE LIKE “uM personally i think he is so immature and Anyone should be allowed to say Anything and Everything at All Times with no repercussions” SIKE BITCH THIS IS THE REAL WORLD OPEN YOUR EYES”

the person who tweeted what hes talking about is between 32-34 and followed them for a majority of the us tour. they flew in from australia for it. somebody tweeted the photo of the tweet that caused him to say that cropped so the persons @ was cut out and his response to that was

“NO MORE CROPPING NAMES, I DONT GIVE A FUCK, WE SHAME IDIOTS, WE SHAPE THE FUTURE”

“WORLD PEACE

IM OUT”

her response to the paint drinker shit was

“loved waking up to you caling me an idiot, thanks Awsten. This fucked up my mental health something fierce and put me in a really bad place”

“Woke up and burst into tears, thanks Awsten”

and a “Awsten what the fuck”

hold on ill link a few of my favorite tweets from the situation because now what the fuck tweet is a whole fuckin joke.

https://x.com/lowkeyashan/status/1782178428982059407?s=46

https://x.com/aioevera7/status/1782185227428729005?s=46

https://x.com/tantrxmbee/status/1782170160209531077?s=46

-🦞

okay what i'm about to say might be a bad an unpopular take because i only have the context that you've given me in this ask so idk if this user used to be disliked before this, or used to be beloved or super popular or whatever else.

anyway i think awsten is... in the wrong here.

this is not to say that the user who tweeted about his alleged drug addiction is saintly and pure and innocent, that was a fucked up tweet to make regardless of if awsten would have seen and/or responded.

however... if i was a popular celeb with a wholeass fandom i would NEVER say these things publicly like sure i understand being mad that someone is talking to flippantly about drug use and speculating about your drug use online but then to go ahead and call them a bunch of names as well as essentially weaponise your fanbase in a way where they're now making memes about this person, making fun of them etc. i'm glad they're not 14 like he said but he didn't know if they were 14 or not, what if they were super young... what if someone who's barely a teenager had to deal with this not only from someone they adore but also from a whole fandom they considered their own??

anyway... yeah i hope tweetuser is fine and i'm glad there's no addiction here. ooofff that's a messy situation wow 😬

#✉️#🦞 anon

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zootplayz · 4 months

Text

Founding a Legacy

Damien has decided he's not making as much money as he could be in his 9 to 5 job so he applied for some scholarships to go back to school and really start bringing in the dough.

While he awaited results he distracted himself with some casual woohoo with his favorite hook-up call, Luna Villareal.

Sure she's dumb as a stump but she's a mighty fine roll in the hay. Damien finally got the news he was accepted into a distinguished history degree with a full ride to Britechester after receiving various scholarships. That of course brings up the question of what to do with his favorite girl.

Yeah, Lucifer is a girl - check your facts next time Zoot. As usual, Mom was there and happily took Luci in despite how angry it made Malcolm. This just made the deal that much sweeter for Damien. What was not sweet was moving into your new dorm and your gross-ass roommate starts making the moves on your clueless mother!

Just moved in and already our boy hates everyone around him. Damien couldn't stand what he was seeing and never wanting to upset his mother he chose to explore the campus and was just in awe of the fact he was the first sim to experience the true university experience.

Then some hateful little wanna-be goth - so-called Pleasant chick went and ruined the whole thing by defacing the symbol of learning and ruining Damien's moment.

Who the hell enrolled these peasants? Damien found a sense of accomplishment in his work for the school. Because every good grade gets him that much closer to rolling in simoleons.

But eventually, he would have to return to his dorm and deal with these jackass roommates he was assigned.

Damien's not the weak kid he once was and now he gives the black eyes.

Whoever said you can't have more enemies than your generation's rules state? Damien spent almost all of his time studying and had very little time for socialization. Besides, look at the people around here, they are not exactly his equals. But as usual, his kind mom convinced him to get out there and meet people, there's more to life than money she would say. Damien didn't believe a word of that but he heeded his mothers' advice and headed to the campus bar. Was challenged (you dare challenge me?!) to a game of juice pong by some tech nerd from Foxbury and Damien made sure this twit knew who was on top.

But Damien's not as young as these kids and with each passing semester he can feel his time as a young adult ending and he desperately wants to leave a legacy behind him.

Being so focused on the almighty simoleon, however, there is no one in his life but Luna. Guess she's going to have to do.

Nearing the end of his university days (thank you Watcher) the roommates finally started contributing and brought Damien, food!

Seriously, that was the high point of my university experience with Damien. As usual, I could not wait to get my sim out of there. I'll definitely be sticking with school from home absolutely love that! Not interested in the experience my sims just want to earn more dough and get professional jobs. That's why Damien went and while he was away at school some peasants moved into his bug-infested shack in Strangerville. But that was no skin off Damien's nose his mother had sent him the key and deed to his old home back in Oasis Springs. Seems that as Malcolm's elder days approach, he becomes easier and easier to manipulate by his sweetly evil wife. Once Damien had those he planned a whole renovation of the property. He did all this while getting top marks in school. So when he finally graduated the house was ready.

Damien is truly a force to be reckoned with. It was good to be back in the Oasis with his Luci.

Man, I missed that dog. Damien has changed so much since he left that everyone believes he is a newcomer to the area. Which is perfectly fine by him he isn't that sweet little boy anymore. Damien isn't totally alone however he does have a family that he cares for immensely. Well minus his father and I pity anyone that hurts his young berry cousins.

And then there's Luna, sweet, stupid, clueless and innocent Luna who never says no.

When she showed up months later to tell Damien they were going to have a baby he was thrilled!

Because frankly if she had just gotten that out of shape he was going to have to find another booty call. But pregnancy is far better news, this means he can start his legacy but it's gotta be done right. No child of his was going to be called a Villareal.

What, did you expect some sort of ceremony Luna? Maybe you should learn how to say no. When Luna moved in she didn't come alone. She brought her families dog Princess with her.

Initially, Damien was annoyed but this sweet face hides a dark soul underneath, kind of like his mom. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. After his graduation and with his distinguished degree Damien was able to land a job as a high-paying judge.

I pray for anyone put before his bench. They better have deep pockets. Just like that Damien is shedding the days of young adult.

And burgeoning into the founder of a legacy to be respected.

Good luck Luna.

Part 01 Part 03 Read the full article

#damien #disney #DisneyVillains #disneyvillainslegacy #gen01 #gen1 #legacy #maleficent #sims4 #sims4legacy #thesims #thesims4

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isladora · 11 months

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If Magic School is nothing like she thought, then Wyvern is even more surprising.

It took her a full week to realize that this tall dragon boy with a wingspan twice her height is not mean or scary at all, despite his long, prowling stares and moody silences.

He's just painfully awkward.

It happened in their room in those late hours where the morning mingled with night and every nighttime echo seemed to shout in the silence. Pepa sat curled on her bed, a mug of tea on her side table and a book in her lap.

Wyvern was perched in front of his easel, his tail curled lightly around his body. He was staring at the easel, sketching with a pencil in hand, muttering under his breathe and measuring every few strokes.

The silence in the room was thick, lurking like a crocodile in a lake. Pepa had never truly fit the archetype of a nerd, despite her efforts. She loved books and needed learning like her owl Holmes needed perch judgmentally at the foot of her bed (little twit), but she'd never succeeded in being properly awkward or shy.

Despite her childhood efforts of bookish isolation, she had loads of friends growing up and still caught up them from time to time on her social media accounts or on weekends. A few had even visited her at the boarding house.

And so when the silence prowled, Pepa was simply not bookishly quaint enough to meekly ignore it. She confronted the silence head on.

"What are you painting?" Pepa asked the dragon boy, hoping he hadn't heard the quake in her voice. His face flushed a truly shocking shade of red.

When he spoke, his voice quaked worse than Pepa. She found herself feeling unexpectedly proud of that fact. After all, it wasn't like he was talking to a black-eyed white dragon.

"It's-erm-nothing," he mumbled, his long hair falling in curtains around his face. Usually he kept it back with a rubber band, but sometimes he let it fully loose in the privacy of their room.

"You've been working hard on it for hours," She said, arching an eyebrow at him. God, it irritated her when people said 'nothing'. Just say you don't want her to know. It can't be nothing. It must have shown on her face because he flushed even harder, this time to the white roots of his hair. Soon he'd be as pink as Plumdrop.

"No, but-it's-I can't," he stuttered, scratching at his scalp. And finally, in the most defeated voice she could have imagined, "You weren't supposed to ask." "What?" She asked dryly, her primly arched eyebrow arching higher. Because, honestly, what? Was he raised in a cave?

Did Mommy and Daddy dragon not speak simlish? It was so absurd that she completely forgot to be afraid. She laid her book aside and leaned forward, more than curious about whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

"It's a gift," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "For you."

Eyebrow down. Mouth open. What. This dragon boy hadn't spoken a word to Pepa, or anyone, all week. And suddenly, he's painting something for her specifically? Once again it must have shown on her face, because the blush crept down his arms and to his hands.

"Well, I've been-" And he mumbled the next part so quietly that she had to unfold her limbs from her comfy bed and cross half the room to hear him. "I've been wanting to talk to you. Just didn't know how. So I thought maybe we could talk about this painting. When it's done."

"Oh," said Pepa, unexpectedly flushed. She tugged her sweatpants higher on her hips just to do something with her hands. "Right. Of course. When it's done."

"When it's done," he repeated, a hint of desperation in his impossibly deep voice. He spoke in a growl like the grim reaper. It was terrifying.

"Okay, when its done you can-you can try talking to me about the painting," I said, tucking myself back into my bed, grabbing the discarded book from my bedside table.

He nodded into the curtain of his hair and turned back to the Easel. That's when she thought back to his long stares and avoidant behavior and sighed. Well, she had to adopt him now.

#my ocs #my sims #sims 4 maxis match #sims 4 cc #simblr #ts4 screenshot #my story #thesims4 #sims 4 simblr #the sims 4 cc

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xenofact · 1 year

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The Sage Trap

Ever see someone who wrote a great book of wisdom and gave a few good speeches change into something not them? Maybe they become some ranting crank, maybe they’re churning out shit, but they’re not the person you thought they were. I mean sure maybe they were always an asshole, but not every wise person you admire can be a horrible twit.

What the hell happens to these truly people that make their fifth book so full of bullshit, egotism, crank rants, or all three? Let me propose that in too many cases the issue is they keep going.

Some people have one to a few good books in them and that’s fine. I mean no one is angry that Lao-Tzu wrote one (OK, maybe two) books. I’ve seen many authors who do one or two books of advice and happily go back to whatever they do or write something different.

But we all know many an writer that keeps going. It seems that timeless wisdom becomes less wise and more time consuming as more and more books come out.

In our world, being a truly wise person, being a person of insight, means you will get exploited and be encouraged to exploit yourself. It can be overwhelming enough that an asshole will go for it, and a truly insightful person may not be insightful enough to fall into the trap.

Our capitalist economy is based on finding what makes money and squeezing the hell out of it. You’ll get book deals and opportunities, speaking engagements and convention schedules. Why it might even let you quit that job and be a wise person full time - and then you’re trapped as all you can do is keep doing more stuff even if there’s nothing more to say.

You might even say I’m not doing it for the money. But you may well bloody be doing it for the praise, the adoration, and the confirmation. You have confirmation people want you, which can boost your ego or worse make you think you can keep helping people by doing the same thing. Meanwhile the publishers and marketers will be fine to add to their bank accounts thanks to you.

People don’t want you to go anyway! You wrote one good book that changed their lives, so keep changing it! Our culture doesn’t emphasize reading and rereading classics, it pushes the new, the latest, the better-than-last.

What our society does not do is say “you left us some truly great wisdom with this book or two, thank you” and move on - and lets the writer move on. We damn well know one person can change the world with a book or two, but our culture and economy doesn’t let that happen.

Being someone with real wisdom to share can be a trap.

Again I’m not decrying writing a lot of stuff. I myself write here and under other names on many subjects because its my hobby - though I did have to learn when to stop. Other people have a lot to say about subjects - something I also do (and also had to learn when to stop). Yet others savor the challenge of covering a new topic each book, as a friend of mine does. What I am saying is it’s best to be aware that our culture and economy will wring every dollar out of you, lock you into doing the same thing, and you may well fall for it.

You can be good enough that you eventually end up not good at all.

I start appreciating many a mystic, monk, and weirdo who wrote a book or two, blew people’s minds, then headed into the mountains or started a band or retired to smoke weed. Sometimes the greatest gift is to shut up and do something else and let people appreciate your brilliance.

- Xenofact

#xenofact #wisdom #writing #publishing #capitalism

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anthonybialy · 2 years

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Biden and Out

Joe Biden forgets the beginnings of his sentences by the time he speaks the ends. He’s the lucky one. Humans cursed with the ability to retain words are also aware of just how broke the unfortunate honcho has made everyone except felons. A country full of victims hope decaying circuits minimize damage on fully functional ones.

We hate to cheer for a president to be out of it. But that was before enduring this particular president. Executive minions agree with most Americans that the alleged man in charge is easy to exploit in the closest we get to bipartisanship. Lamentably, agreement only runs so deeply.

Public disservice servants finally got their calculatingly guileless president to manipulate into being even more pushy. Forging his signature is their only marketable skill. Pimping leftist insanity as if it’s their superior’s dream is more plausible than even more federal spending curing inflation. This feels like the fake wills of presidencies, so shady claims come naturally.

Journalists weren’t lazy enough before someone they voted for won. The most indolent job class outside of Wendy’s cashiers only invest effort in circling wagons around a president who might predate plumbing.

Entering protection mode in lieu of performing their jobs is shame, because they could truly make their reputations by merely asking questions like “What is your address?” He wouldn’t answer while pretending it’s because he won’t dignify the question. Meanwhile, the eternal trainee would need someone to read him the index card he’s handed.

An incoherent executive would provide the best excuse. It’s still not a good one. But gesturing to a president debating a tree would create more sympathy than pretending a slight drop in gas prices following astronomical climbing means he’s totally helping.

The White House has never been more appropriately used as a metonym. A physical structure representing a president who’s physically present within it but mentally checked out leads to viewing a dwelling as the term’s embodiment.

Forget the security deposit. Pinko twits getting in what they can will cause as much damage as possible until the lease runs out. There are worse forms of damage than broken lamps and pizza deliverymen waiting vainly for payment.

A leftist agenda has turned out like everyone to the right of Honecker guessed. Biden doesn’t deserve an Oscar any more than he does to hold his current job. The prototypical career politician is as lousy at halting inflation as he is pretending to be a moderate liberal, which means driving off the cliff slower. Taking money from the economy to help it and lowering gas prices by lowering supply are not working as well as he figured for some mysterious reason.

A lust for taxation isn’t just an effective way of discouraging humanity. Neither Biden nor his puppeteers can think of anything more innovative than punishing the successful to fund the useless. Taking to share is the natural impulse of those who generate nothing.

Presuming everyone else is also shiftless displays a lack of empathy. Uncanny arrogance is merely an accompaniment. Humorlessness about the irony they create is just another charming virtue from presidential staffers who try running everything and ruin it all. They’re inspired by their savior, even though he’s barely functioning. Taking his goofy interference to a higher plane lowers us all.

There has never been a good reason to let Biden get away with anything. The refusal to give the professional slacker an undeserved break applies especially so during a regrettable presidency he routinely forgets he’s inflicted. Noting one branch’s advanced age is outweighed by how he’s always acted like this. A slightly more intense version in his name makes a worst-case scenario seem optimistic.

Biden Xtreme is an even worse ‘90s throwback than a Vanilla Ice cassingle. Planning for a dreadful president’s 80th birthday bash is not a justification to excuse him. The shadiest pitchman would endorse most of the nonsense attached to his name if he weren’t sleepwalking during some of the few hours he’s aware.

A leader who’s as sharp as he is brave would sticking up for decent people. By contrast, we’re saddled with a president who believes indecent things. Biden has always rallied behind the curious notion that people like him should be hassling people unlike him. Taking from earners is his version of caring for the disadvantaged. Going soft on crime from muggers to mullahs shows a thorough commitment to taking. Biden is what happens when your mom says you have a president at home.

Biden being out of it was always the best case. Substitute staffers must pretend their daft notions will spur prosperity and that their ostensible boss endorsed them. Less intense versions wouldn’t be a panacea had we slept through the Biden nightmare in 1988 when he was less clueless. You don’t have to feel bad for them. Woeful zealots merely believe the same pernicious claptrap that’s been proven to fail universally even back when their confused savior’s shot at remembering someone’s name was somewhat higher. Struggling to recall his own middle name and maybe the other two isn’t that much of a change.

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daphnedauphinoise · 2 years

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could you elaborate on “decorating your life” please? sounds like a very interesting point💖

For me decorating your life means having beauty in everything that is mine. It means choosing and cultivating beauty in myself, my outer-self and in my surroundings.

My Inner Beauty

Cultivating inner beauty is about practicing mind-fullness, self-love, self-respect, confidence, kindness and good emotional hygiene. I think understanding your own character and being able to defend your beliefs is fundamental to be a better human.In my mother tongue there is this phrase that can be translated to in the eyes of a flower, the universe is like a flower, in the eyes of a thorn, the universe is like a thorn. Perception is key. What thought you have in mind whilst interacting with the world is how you see the world. People just don’t say beauty comes from the inside to be kind to less than attractive people, they say it because it is true. One of my favourite quote comes from The Twits by Roald Dhal and it is this. Lovely thoughts and kindness does shine through and trust me people are drawn to that sunshine.

Mindfulness is about your ability to be present and in tune with the current happening. Meditation is considered the best practice of mindfulness 🧘🏻‍♀️ Overtime meditation helps us become less volatile and more in tune with ourselves. Admittedly meditation is hard and even after doing it since pretty much birth, I still find it hard at times too. It is hard to sit still and have a clear mind but it is a good practice to incorporate in your day to day life. Meditation has a huge amount of benefits from increasing your life span, to boosting your mood there and then. There are plenty of videos on youtube to help you get started or the app Headspace is really good as well. Gratitude is another way of practicing mindfulness and trust me it helps you see the world more positively. Throughout the day I try to say one thing I am grateful for out loud and I like listing things I am grateful for as I sleep. Things don’t have to be extravagant, you can say thank you for being on tumblr or drinking a nice cold glass of water.

Self-respect is about maintaining boundaries with yourself. I am a firm believer in 'if you don't respect yourself, no-one else will'. Self respect is often ignored because I don’t think people realise that it is an actual thing. But I am sure you have looked at someone and though ‘gosh, where is your self-respect’. Self-respect looks like looking after your health, taking your mental health into consideration, setting self-boundaries, saying no and yes confidently and accepting your reality but working hard. Having self-respect requires you to be stern with yourself. What are you doing that is probably not the best for you? Are you letting yourself and other people walk all over your boundaries? Your boundaries are for you and you have to know why each one are in place. Having self respect won’t save you from hard and sad situations but if you leave with your head held high, you are still the winner.

Self-love is the act of appreciating yourself. It means you truly care about yourself. True self-love is not restricting, it is not based on one singular characteristic. It is considered the hardest thing to master but I think that is because people expect themselves to wake up one day and unconditionally love themselves. I used to hate self-love because this is what I thought it was.However, that is not what self-love is. My version of self-love encompass everything I have talked about. I think self-love is turning up for yourself and learning how to be comfortable with just you. Self-love is indulging yourself but knowing when to stop. Self-love is accepting yourself at your worst but working up to better yourself. Many of us don’t even like ourselves and we tend to run as fast as we can but the thing is anywhere you go, you will be there. Self-love is taking care of yourself, it is willingly getting to know yourself, learning about yourself. Take yourself on a date, spend some time looking a wall, make lists about your likes and dislike- get to know yourself.

Confidence is not intrinsic and I hate God for them most of the time for it. The one thing we all need, it doens’t come for free. And the thing with confidence is that there is no heat code for it.Building confidence requires you fail, be deeply uncomfortable and probably cry once a while. Yea, fake it till you make it but you are still having to do the presentation for uni. Confidence comes from getting out there and do things. It comes from previous knowledge and experinces that are stored in your brain. So getting out there and taking those steps is what is going to help you.

Kindess is easily the most important character trait. A lot of people are nice but they aren’t kind. And there is a difference. Kindess is a habit, it has to be consistent to be kindess whereas you can do one or two nice things and that will make you a nice person. I don’t know about you guys but in school we had to do like 5 random acts of kindess and log them. Now looking back I can see that they were trying to make it a habit. Kindess is really one of those things where it comes back around in a circle.

Emotional hygeine is about noticing and understanding your psychological health.It helps you refrain from being this or that, practicing emotional hygeine helps centre you. You need to build emotional awareness. I have met so many emotinally constipated adults because they have no idea what they are feeling. The easiest solution is to learn new adjectives. Find a thesaurus and look up basic emotive words like happy, sad and angry and then look at their synonyms. Then learn the definations of those and learn what makes them different from the parent word. There is a prevalent end all, be all attitude amongst us. We then stress about the most simple things. Thinking about the worst case scenario really doesn’t get you anywhere. Learn that small problems are just small problems. And big problems can be broken down to smaller more digestible problems. It’s okay.

My Outer Beauty

Outer body beauty is about my physical beauty. I talked a lot about the way I grew up with beauty in this post so that is worth a read too. Outer beauty is made up of skincare, makeup, exercise and diet, all non-negotiables in my opinion.It is no secret that looking good makes you feel good.

Exercise is sucky and I get that but you have to do it. Especially since we live such sedentary lifestyle, it is important to get up and moving. I think when it comes to exercising it helps to workout with a goal in mind.I think this helps you to make habit of getting in your exercise.Being Height Weight proportionate and being in the correct BMI range is a good start for your health so that could a potential goal. There is a lot of fulfilment in achieving your goal body but you need to be able to put in the required effort. Moving is essential to feeling better. If you need help with what to do I have workout master lists that you can use.

Workout List

Pilates List

( I don’t think I need to sit and explain why exercise of good for you so let’s move on. )

I am not to going to tell you what to eat and what not to eat but I am going to tell you to make peace with food and eating. I am very fortunate to have a great relationship with food and eating but that is something I have consciously made a habit of. Growing up in this age, it is particularly hard to navigate a relationship with food but you need to learn how to protect yourself. When I say diet here I am not talking about something that is a part of some fitness plan but a general diet. How does your eating habits play a role in your lifestyle ? I don’t really have a strict sturcture to what I eat, I enjoy all cuisines and I am not picky. I am so lucky to come from a culture which arguably the best wealth of knowledge on health (Aryuveda) and it is something I incorparate daily.

I do intermitent fasting which is great if you have immune system and inflammation problems and I do a cycle of 12-14-16-14-12 and then take two days off. Fasting in general is great for you body and it reduces the chances of cancer by a lot ( The Middle East has the lowest cancer rate in the world due to the month long fasting ,Ramadan, they do yearly [obviously coupled with low alcohol intake and smoking). I grew up with the concept of giving your body a break and fasting is just that. Your body does have your liver and kidneys to do detox for you but it is nice to give them a break and stop them from being tired all the time. If you don’t think you can commit to a full fast ( no food no water for a day), make your own rule up. You could just do raw vegan for couple of days or juicing or doing it the way Ramadan is done, whatever is comfortable.

Though I already have so much on health from my own culture, I do like learning from the Japanese as well. Hara haci Ibu is the Okinawan rule of eating till you are 80% full. This is something that I have grown up with as well. Eating till you are 80% ensures that you do not overeat but also that you do not undereat. There is this other rule that kids in Japan taught taht I like. The premise is to eat 30 different foods everyday as this ensures that you cover all food groups and the nutrients you need. I don’t really like following any healthy recipes online because if you take any 10 recipes, they will have all the same ingredients. Which isn’t bad per se but I believe in variety and quality. Try different meats, different types of lentils, different types of vegtables; make your plate colourful. Make up your own rules with food. I do. I don’t eat meats on certain days, I don’t eat diary sometimes and sometimes I act like a full blown carnivore. I work with myself when it comes to food and honestly I think this method works because I have never had a bad relationship with food.

Also if you are low on any vitamins or nutrients and you can’t them the required amount then supplements are great. A lot of people in the Northern Hemisphere (especially POC) lack vitamin D and a lot of people lack vitamin C. The one I would recommend everyone is Omega 3 oil which comes in little capsules. I know taking probiotics has become very trendy, and for good reasons, for those with a lot fermented food in their diets like Eastern Europeans and East Asians are on it. I much rather eat the food than take supplements so if don’t want to take them I suggest searching what foods are high in what and eating them.

Skincare and Makeup

Skincare is tricky and there is no size that fits all. Skincare is very much about knowing your skin as thoroughly possible and knowing which actives work well for you. Contrary to popular belief you don’t need a 10 step Korean routine to get good skin. In fact a lot of how your skin looks on the outside is directly related to what is going on in the inside. For example, apart from hormones going wild, lack of vitamin D and weak gut can also lead to constant acne. When it comes to any skin problems, go consult a dermatologist rather than listening to people on TikTok. But if you cannot afford to go to one as of now Dr Gray on YouTube is really good and I like her advice.

Makeup is subjective as well. There is a debabte about whether it is neccessary or not. But I personally will say between a person who has no makeup and a person who has even just the tinest bit, the person with makeup on looks better. I think it is important to develop a good relationship with makeup regardless of whether you wear or not and I think being able to do makeup is a fine skill to have and a really helpful one at that too. Again YouTube and TikTok is amazing for this. Follow people who look like you, not just colour/race but people who have the same facial structure and the same nose and the same cheekbones. I have high cheekbones and where people normally put their contour looks stupid on me. It’s all about learning what works for you and what makes you look good.

My Surroundings

Now let’s move on the literal decorate your life. I like pretty things and I like to be surrounded by pretty things. I have really started to move away from clutter and being purposeful when I buy things. Over the past 6 months I have really de-cluttered my life but also inrtoudcued things that spark joy. If you are a hoarder collector like me, the Marie Kondo documentary on Netlfix is a great introduction to the art of decluttering.At the start of a new season I try and do one massive cleanup which results in couple of bags of things to donate. You find that what you held onto last autumn no longer serves you so you are now ready to let it go. ‘What serves you’ has become a very popular term and I use it a lot. When something no longer serves you, that means it no longer helps you move forward in the direction you (currently) want to go. I have let go of lots of things and whilst there are times where it is hard but once you realise how much better your life would be without it, it gets easy.

You are who you are friends with. Your friends and everyone you actively choose to surround yourself with is very important. Social inclusion as pack animals is a basic need and often times if we are excluded or we completely don’t fit in that becomes the source for our worst problems. You friends should be people that love you a lot, support you a lot, are your source of comfort and people who aspire you. If you are not finding inspiration in your group, move on.Humans are social beings and having a good set of friends is actually a very overlooked integral part of your health. I love the idea of a small tight knit friendship group but I understand the FOMO of a big group as well. I have talked about friendships before and I have said that you don’t need to be best-friends with everyone. You are fully allowed to just be brunch friends with some people, that means; no ties no obligations. I have two friends who my confidants but I have lots and lots of other friends who I don’t talk about secrets with but I love them all regardless because they add happiness and joy into my life.

Developing a sense of beauty and aesthetics. Do you know the phrase life imitates art, I believe in the other Art imitates life. Remember the flower quote from couple of paragraphs up, that also extends to how beauty works. You won’t find beauty on the outside if you don’t know what beauty is. And how do you find beauty? You make a conscious choice to expose yourself to beauty. Go to a museum and look at art, search up different flowers or just google beautiful things. The more your look for beauty the more you understand what beauty is for you. It is far easier to gain an understanding on the breath of something after you look at different angles. For me the biggest beauty is nature. I love looking at nature. I love going on hard hikes just to see the view from the top, I know what kind of trees I like and what kind I don’t like. I know whilst I love roses, I would be much more smitten with a boquet of big peonies. Developing a sense of beauty is really overlooked nowadays, which in a sad way is ironic given how superfical we are in this age.

When I say decorate your life I also do mean it in its most literal sense. Like I said I like pretty things and I like looking at pretty things so I make sure everything I own is pretty. I have long stopped buying whatever because it was cheap and accessible and now I shop with a vision and look in mind. Eg I am buying a stapler, my desk is a deep brown, most of my stationary is black, pink or Japanese. So if I was to buy a stapler I would buy something minimal in mind but big because I like to be able to staple 10 pages at a time. When it comes to basics I like to keep them neutral and chromatic but for room designs I like boldness and colour. Again you need to do a little digging with what you like and sort it out that way. I like getting myself flowers. That’s another way to decorate your surroundings. Wearing jewellery you like and clothes you like fall under decorating your life too. I like to think of all these things as an extension of myself- what do other people learn about me when they see my accessories ? Does it convey in essence who I am? Who I am currently ?

The Art of Beautifying your life about seeing the best that this world has to offer. Though I forgot about it for a while during the worst depressive stages of my life, life is beautiful and worth living. At one point I really hated life, the long yearning to free myself of the burden of living ate away most of my teenagehood and left a whole where 8 years was meant to be. But I came to this realisation at one point that I hated my life not life itself, I just hated the way I was existing. The sound of babies lauging, the burst of the winter air, post-theatre buzz, singing happy birthday to a stranger in a resturant; I didn’t hate those and they were a part of life. So I started taking more responsibility and I ‘took back control’. I stood up against myself and the world I had built up in my head and decided enough was enough, my life needed to be beautiful. Since then I have become kinder, more courageous, purposeful, brighter, happier. I found gratitude. There is a tonne of things that are ‘wrong’ about my life, many things that are hard but if you are reading this than I can confidently say that your life is much better than a lot of others.I know maybe that comparing yourself to those less fortunate is bad but I think sometimes we have to look at circumstances different to ours to understand our own fortune.Sometimes the grass is greener on the other side but sometimes there is no grass at all. I keep coming back to beauty and it’s importance as there is no doubt that operating with the idea of peaceful beauty has led me far away from where I thought I would never leave, and I don’t think I will ever have both feet out but I do look more to the sky than I look to the ground.

#you ask for daphne's answers

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hello-everyfandom · 4 years

Text

“Everything between us is a moment”

Warnings: Small mentions of abuse.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Words: 1k

Summary: Sirius quite enjoys laying on your lap and listening to you read.

Part Two to “Sirius loves all the attention,”

You supposed having Sirius around wasn’t too bad. He was quite good company even though somehow when around your brother he became more of a nitwit. You were quite fond of him and truly did enjoy his small jokes and banter. Sometimes, after James went to bed complaining that he needed ‘no less than eight hours of beauty sleep,’ you and Sirius would sit in front of the fireplace. You would read works of muggle literature softly whilst Sirius laid his head in your lap. He had become quite keen on your couch in the living room. Perhaps it was because it was the couch Mr. and Mrs. Potter had accepted him into your home, but mainly he found it so lovely was because it was where the two of you had your first kiss. It was an accident, really, at least for you. You really weren’t doing anything but reading to him until he began to fidget.

“What is it?” you asked, rather amused. “Do you not find Jane Austen appealing?”

Sirius shook his head, “It’s nothing on you, love. Actually, I quite like hearing you read about love, ‘m just not as keen on the mother, ‘s all.”

“Really? The famous Sirius Black has an opinion about literature?” you gasped in fake surprise, “What’s wrong with Mrs. Bennett? She seems to be a doting mother.”

“She’s controlling, so what if Lizzy doesn’t want a husband? And she’s always telling the girls what to do and what not to do and then throws a fit when things don’t go her way. I think she’s quite a frigid bitch, if you ask me. This book is just rubbish.” You listened to Sirius knowing full well this wasn’t about some silly classical literature. You close the book and placed it next to you, using your fingers to comb through his hair. Sirius closed his eyes and sighed in content, feeling you around him was better than drinking a thousand fire whiskeys. He could lay there for years and never be bored with your awful jokes. But, you did worry about him. Sometimes, throughout the night, you or James would have to wake Sirius up due to his night terrors. He awoke with sweat beaded foreheads and tears that were quickly blinked away. It terrified you. Though you never asked him about his family, you understood that there was a weight on his shoulders that could very well manifest itself into depression.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, voice nearly a whisper as you continued to stroke his hair.

“mm,” Sirius shook his head, “not really, love, I’d rather not ruin the moment.”

“Oh? So this is a moment now?”

“Everything between us is a moment, you twit,” he laughed and opened his eyes. You tried to displace your face of worry, but he caught on too quick and sighed, “what about it did you want to talk about?”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to” you assured Sirius, “but, I think perhaps it’d make you feel better. I’d rather you say something than bottle it in an implode on the first day back at Hogwarts.”

Sirius took hold of your hand and placed a kiss on the palm as he did nearly every day, “ ‘s so sweet you care about me,”

“Of course I care about you, you’re my-”

“Your what?” he beamed making you grin and blush,

“Friend.”

“Oof, Darling, you really know how to shut a man down.”

“I think of you more as a boy than a man,” placing your hand on his cheek. “Really, though, Sirius.”

“Hmm?” he hummed again,

“I’m, uh, I’m glad you got out of there and came here.”

Sirius smiled genuinely and sat up so he could face you, “I’m glad too,”

“It makes me very angry that you got hurt there,” you said truthfully. It was agonizing to even think of Sirius in an unsafe place, fearing his family and wishing for solace someplace else. If it were up to you, you would’ve made him come home the second you first met him in first year.

“It was... brutal and uh, wicked. But, in a bad way.” he rubbed his neck, could see a faint scar on the back of his palm that seemed to have formed from a knife.

“I’m sorry.” you watched as Sirius blinked away tears.

“It happened, it’s over. Besides, I have a much nicer family here than there. I think your mum may even love me more than the both of you combined,” he poked your side.

“Yeah, absolutely,” you agreed. Sirius stared at you. The fireplace reflected off your eyes and your lips were curled into a tender look. If he could, he’d frame this moment and place beside his bed so he could look at it every morning and every night. He watched you tuck a piece of stray hair behind your ear and your eyes flicker to look up and down his face. He couldn’t help it. Placing a warm hand on your face, you leaned into his touch. Being James’ younger sibling and Sirius’ best friend, you never thought in a million years that Sirius would ever kiss you. But here he was. Kissing you. You had seen Sirius snog some of the girls on Gryffindor at parties, but it always seemed too fast for you and had too much tongue. But, Sirius didn’t kiss you fast. It was slow, with lips moving against lips. It was as if he were terrified, which he admittedly was, that you would slip from his grasp and disappear into dust on the floor. He moved so both hands could cup your face and separated from you to kiss your cheeks, your forehead, your nose and chin and everywhere he could. You giggled as it tickled when he kissed your nose and he bit back a smile before kissing you once again. The two of you hummed and sighed happily, sinking into each other’s arms.

“I think,” Sirius finally said, “James is going to kill me.”

“You bet your left arse cheek James is going to kill you.” James said from the staircase. Sirius jumped six feet in the air and you’ve never seen James smirk so wide.

#sirius black imagines #sirius black #sirius black imagine #marauders imagine #marauders #harry potter imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagines #sirius black oneshot #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine

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a-luran · 3 years

Note

omg not to be a little bitch but.... id genuinwly love to hear you talk more about that werewolf au if you feel like doing it 🙏 please dont hold back.

i can also just imagine how much of a petty bitch arthur would be knowing that his brother came to him for help and hes depending on his knowledge, and even if he acts annoyed about it and like hes being a nuisance hes still very pleased knowing the bastard has to eat his pride and ask for arthurs help lmao

im sorry im just. brainrot 😩😩

i would love to talk more about it!! Thank you for indulging me xxxxx

So, I have thought long and hard about the specifics of Scotland being turned and the general gist of it is this: although in this AU he does have a measure of magical sensibility, his talents are rooted in nature. Drawn from damp, dark earth; peat and smoke. He paints a lonesome figure, near estranged from his past keeping to himself for the most part.

The wolf gets him when he is, of all things, gathering mushrooms. It goes straight for the throat, and leaves him for dead; but rather than die, Al digs his fingers deep into the rotting leaves of the forest floor and lives.

Then he wakes, covered in mud and blood and stinking of wet dog, and the first thing he thinks is oh, fuck.

Arthur was the first to live the house where they all grew up together— the four of them, later five; then only Daffy (Wales) left behind to guard the old mansion where they were all raised. And the first thing Arthur did was this: build a sturdy door and a high fence to between his home and the world. Metaphorically; or at least the fence is, the door is very much there. He runs an apothecary/rare artefact/all-around curio shop and lives in flat stacked right above it. Keeps a small garden out back and a well secured cellar (that will come in handy in a second), and has put away his ambitions and wanderlust to sit still for a moment and catch his breath. He will come and go, to source his stock and scratch the itch to dip his toes in faraway seas, but he rather does enjoy being a grouchy, lonesome shopkeep. The one person he sees most, beside the cast that cycle in and out of the shop— bell ringing over the door, /how do you do, mistletoe and myrtle tincture? Why yes of course, right over there, next to the eye of newt/— is Francis. Francis who is an absurdly powerful necromancer who runs the flower shop and herbarium across the street. Won’t find fresher wares then his! And his cooking is to die for, would you believe?

So what happens next is this: Arthur is pulling up weeds in the back, cursing Francis under his breath because surely it was him who blew the sunflower seeds into his vegetable patch, when Alasdair— estranged, longed for, vexing Alasdair— stumbles past the magic wards that line his property like they’re barely a bother. Alasdair gets out a rough “Lad,” then a wheeze, and face-plants right atop the rhubarb.

Arthur watches it happen with a look like a twit, the knees of his trousers soaked through with spring damp-earth, and in true familiar fashion thinks oh, fuck.

What follows is indeed very much a tug of war between them as they both struggle to find their footing and come to terms with the situation— and each other. Arthur does struggle at first, torn between past resentment and the growing realisation that he wants to be what Alasdair needs. And the same hold true for Scotland, who quickly realises that the Arthur is not-quite who he expected him to be— still infuriating, still himself only…

Forces of nature, the both of them. And a storm brewing between them with every passing day. Francis watches them circle each other with a kind of amused exasperation and wonders who will bite (ha!) first.

Now for the heat and turning… transformation, of all kinds, comes at a price. And it hurts. In this as much as with anything else. They’re both expecting the crack of bone, the ferocity of it, but they’re not quite ready for the drawn-out length of it. The spasms that seize up Alasdair’s body and bring him to his knees for hours before the night is even truly dark. Arthur doesn’t have the time to source anything better for the first time, so they make due with heavy iron chains and wards carved deep into the floor of the cellar.

The first full moon is a horror. It is also breathtaking. The restraints are barely enough against the awesome strength of wolf. Arthur watches him strain against them; watches him pant into the improvised muzzle that Alasdair insisted on when Arthur refused to leave him, and feels a quiet sort of awe. Torn between fear and an emotion he can’t quite articulate. Keeping his distance, both feet firmly on the ground where he sits on the second to last step in case he needs to bolt upstairs, all he can think about as the sun comes up and steals a sigh from Alasdair lungs is how it would feel to press a hand against the wolf’s chest. How hard Alasdair’s heart might thunder against him. How heated his skin. How rough the coarse fur of his scruff. He has little time to think of anything more before he has to move again, reaching for Alasdair to hold him up.

Coming down from the transformation is not unlike an Olympic marathon. Arthur is too busy trying to keep Alasdair’s pulse steady and pouring electrolytes down his throat to spare any more thoughts for the pounding in his own chest.

(One thing Alasdair soon realises after he is bitten is this: that his senses are ever heightened. More so after a shift. Arthur is helping him stumble his way up the stirs when he breathes him in and thinks oh. Just oh, and something in his chest clicks; turns upside down. Arthur is his brother; isn't, never was and always will be. He smells like sweat and fear. Smells of ink and herbs. Smells of worry. Smells of lust. Smells like Alasdair now that they are pressed close together. He’s become Alasdair’s home, precariously. Safe haven, safeguard; his throat is bare and now…)

When the next full moon comes, Alasdair gets loose.

#cliffhanger ;D #scoteng #@neon spirals #prideful sods the both of them. don't be fooled by the prose and the early concessions they are forced to make in the scramble #to prepare for the first full moon #they are both delightfully snippy and petty and angry but also tired and aching to stop #hws england #hws scotland #hhhhh rut smut facilitated by magic mushrooms to get the lad nice and loose because Ali is big on the best of days and now well...#i feel like i should also disclose that he's an ugly werewolf; think wulver #so ugly he's cute

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luminescencefics · 4 years

Text

you feel like home - part three

He’s smiling then, and Jackson takes that as his cue to continue snuggling Luna into his lap. Ryan’s eyes shift from her new small friend to his father leaning against his doorframe wearing slouchy grey joggers and a graphic t-shirt that shows off his decorated toned arms that she can’t seem to stop looking at.

“Is this our new thing? Meeting up in hallways?” Harry asks, and Ryan can feel the butterflies take flight in her stomach, stretching their wings along her ribcage and floating up through her body, leaving her feeling far too many things all at once.

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***

Luna’s Great Escape

It’s been two days since Ryan last saw Harry in her doorway, and she’s grateful for the rainstorm that’s been plaguing north central London ever since he left her heart racing that afternoon. The rain hasn’t stopped roaring, presumably ruining Jackson’s playtime in the park, allowing Ryan a short period of time to catch her breath.

She’s spent the past two days in a bit of a drunken stupor. After Harry uttered those words to her in the hallway before entering his own flat, Ryan ripped open the parcel and finished her work for the day, sending over her inspections and adjustments to her supervisor in a daze before the clock struck five. Afterward, she tore off her flannel pajama bottoms and shoved them into the depths of her drawer to hopefully never be seen again, traipsing into her bathroom to turn the tub on, a few bottles of Carlsberg nestled tightly under her armpit.

It’s not that Ryan was avoiding her feelings, because she truly didn’t understand them. After two beers, she came to the conclusion that the bubbling in her gut and the warmth on her cheeks, the fluttering of her heart and the pinch in her breath—was all due to the fact that she found Harry annoyingly attractive.

Ryan’s no stranger to attractive men. Her awkwardness practically disappears after a few shots of tequila have settled into her bloodstream, allowing her to hold a conversation with a handsome man without the overwhelming urge to stutter over her words or shift in her heeled boots from nervousness. Most times, in her debilitated state, she’s gotten lucky with a quick shag and a fumbling exit hidden under the darkness of the night. But now, as she sits in her bathtub nursing her fourth beer, a Kiehl’s face mask hardened over her skin, she’s not sure how much alcohol she would need to consume in order to appear seemingly normal in front of Harry.

That was last night. Now, as her hangover starts to settle in, Ryan’s decided that she needs advice. The brutally honest kind that usually fell unapologetically from the lips of her best mate Fiona.

“So let me get this straight, your new neighbor just so happens to be fit as all hell, and you’ve had a handful of conversations with him without making a complete fool of yourself, and you still haven’t shagged him? What am I missing here, Ry?” Fiona’s voice calls out from Ryan’s mobile that’s leaning against her porcelain fruit bowl, the camera angle allowing her to be able to see Fiona while attempting to cook some sort of pasta dish to cure the throbbing in her head.

“Fee, I got fucking rug burn on my knee from tripping over my own bloody feet the first time I met him!” Ryan recalls, the memory causing her head to shake aggressively, trying her hardest to expel it from her brain.

“Well, I did say complete fool,” Fiona retorts, causing Ryan to roll her eyes as she tries her hardest to follow the vodka sauce recipe she found on Pinterest. She’s eyeing the heavy cream she just added to the saucepan, wondering if the color should be pinker.

“I think it’s for the best if I just continue avoiding him for the rest of my life,” Ryan says, opening the box of ziti and throwing it into the boiling pot on the back left burner.

She can hear Fiona laugh over the hiss of the water. “Stop with the dramatics! You’re starting to sound like me.”

Ryan just ignores her friend, stirring the sauce that’s starting to smell. She instantly reaches for the parmesan cheese, adding more aimlessly to change the viscosity into something that doesn’t resemble broth.

“This could be great for you, Ry,” Fiona says through the screen once Ryan’s reappeared in front of her.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Ryan asks, a bit distracted with the way the saucepan on the hob begins to gurgle inconspicuously.

“Because he’s fit. And he literally lives right next door. This is fantastic news! You can get laid without even leaving your building! Especially during quarantine with the entire city on lockdown!” While Ryan loves her friend, she hates the way Fiona says certain words, her voice level rising with each stressed syllable. She’s speaking so loudly that Ryan thinks back to how Harry referred to hearing Mrs. Bingsley banging about in the kitchen when she used to live in this unit, and immediately Ryan lowers the volume on her mobile, grabbing it from its spot against the fruit bowl and turning into her living room to be as far away from the thin walls as possible.

“I’m not sleeping with him, Fiona. I literally just met him,” Ryan says, sitting on the arm rail of her couch, watching Luna in her periphery continue sleeping soundly against the throw pillows.

“But you want to.”

Ryan stays silent, wondering if that’s what the bubbling and fluttering and pinching of all her insides means. Wondering if all of these feelings can simply be associated to sexual attraction.

“Why don’t you knock on his door and ask for a plunger or something?” Fiona says, breaking the silence. Ryan instantly disagrees, her eyes widening in fear.

“No, that’s a terrible idea! I don’t want him to think I’ve clogged up my fucking toilet,” Ryan shrieks, knowing that move would definitely work on a girl like Fiona—confident, unrelenting, and fearless. But for a girl like Ryan, whose cheeks turn red whenever a boy like Harry even looks in her direction, she knows there’s no way she can handle that.

Fiona sighs. “You’re probably right.”

Before Ryan can respond, the blaring sound of the smoke detector going off from the kitchen interrupts her thoughts. “Shit!” she screeches, jumping up from her seated position and running into the kitchen, her mobile clutched in her fist as she approaches the stovetop. The saucepan with the once pinkish-red sauce has now turned black, the edges burnt to a crisp, smoke rising from the top because Ryan forgot to lower the heat to a simmer. The pot with the pasta has boiled over, water falling onto the burner with a loud fizzle. “Fuck!”

“Christ, Ryan! Only you can burn fucking pasta!” Fiona shouts through her mobile, and Ryan immediately discards the device on the countertop, flicking the burners off. She reaches for the dishtowel near the sink, waving it under the smoke detector to make the incessant noise cease.

“It won’t fucking stop!” Ryan bellows, switching the towel to her left arm. If Harry didn’t hear her before, he definitely heard her now, and the thought is enough to make her wave her arms frantically, praying for the smoke detector to shut off.

“Open the front door, get some airflow in the flat, you twit! Twenty-seven and still can’t cook a bloody meal, it’s a shock how you’ve survived this long on your own—”

Ryan doesn’t stay in the kitchen long enough to hear the rest of Fiona’s comment. Instead, she’s spinning on her heels towards her front door, opening it up partly in hope to get the smell of burnt food out of her flat.

Just as she walks back into the kitchen, the beeping finally stops, and Ryan feels as if she can finally breathe again. Her cheeks are stained red from the exertion of flailing her arms about, the stray hairs from her low ponytail sticking to the nape of her neck uncomfortably. She takes in the state of her kitchen, annoyed with herself that she got too preoccupied with Fiona’s ramblings instead of focusing on cooking her pathetic meal.

“Have you died?” The sound echoes from the countertop where Ryan left her mobile, and for a moment Ryan forgets that Fiona was waiting for her. She saunters over slowly, leaning her mobile on the toaster oven so that she can rest her bent elbows on the countertop, her hands falling over her cheeks in embarrassment.

“Knew I should’ve gone with the boxed mac and cheese,” Ryan mumbles, catching her breath.

Fiona laughs. “I appreciate the attempt, Jamie Oliver. You’ve probably scared Luna half to death, poor thing.”

At the mention of her kitten’s name, Ryan immediately swivels her head around to the living room, eyes falling to the spot on the couch her white British Shorthair was just occupying. But when she looks closer, she realizes that Luna is gone.

She quickly stands up straight, telling Fiona she’ll call her back before ending the FaceTime call, entering the living room to search every nook and cranny for her kitten. Luna’s small body is nowhere near the couch or armchairs, her cat tree is empty, and when Ryan takes a look in her bedroom and finds absolutely nothing, she’s suddenly filled with fear at the fact that her kitten has disappeared.

Before Ryan can have a full-blown meltdown at the loss of her meal and kitten in the span of ten minutes, she hears the faint echo of a meow from the other side of her front door. A tiny giggle follows after, and suddenly Ryan’s head is peering out into the hallway, falling on the sight of Luna laying on the carpet with her tummy up in the air, and Jackson’s small hands rubbing soothing circles in her fur.

“What would your dad say about you leaving the flat without him?” Ryan calls out from her doorframe, watching the way Jackson’s face lights up when he realizes it is her speaking to him.

“Daddy will probably be mad. But I heard the kitty outside when I was playing! I didn’t know you had one!” He’s smiling so wide it causes Ryan to immediately do the same, despite her borderline breakdown a few moments prior. She trots over towards the pair, crouching down in front of them and balancing on the heels of her socked-clad heels, watching the way Luna purrs at Jackson’s soft strokes.

“I do. This is Luna,” Ryan answers, grinning when Jackson begins cooing at the tiny animal.

“Hi Luna, I’m Jackson. You’re so soft.” He’s whispering to her and Ryan isn’t quite sure why, and when Luna suddenly flips over and sits on Jackson’s lap, Ryan feels her heart swell at the sight of two tiny things cuddling up to one another.

The silence is broken by a gruff, frustrated voice. “Jackson! You can’t keep runnin’ off—oh.”

Three pairs of different colored eyes look up at the intrusion, and suddenly Harry’s anger dissipates at the sight of his son holding a cute kitten in his lap. A cute kitten that just so happens to belong to his even cuter neighbor who he seemingly can’t stop thinking about.

Ryan just smiles shyly, swallowing harshly when Harry crosses his arms over his broad chest, his large palms cupping his bulging biceps under the thin material of his shirt. She coughs into her fist, realizing now that she probably should stand up from her crouched position so that she’s no longer staring up at him underneath the cover of her eyelashes.

“Daddy look! Ryan has a kitty!” Jackson squeals, his cheek squished against Luna’s tiny face as he pets behind her ears, causing her whole body to vibrate with a deep purr.

Harry looks between Luna and Ryan, that slow smirk grazing his lips that causes Ryan’s cheeks to burn with a deep blush. “I can see that, Bubs.” His voice is so deep Ryan can feel it settle into her bones, and suddenly she wishes her hair wasn’t tied behind her head in a ponytail so that she could hide her reddened cheeks under the deep brown tendrils.

Before she can speak, a loud whistle from Harry’s flat breaks the silence. His upper body shifts away from the doorframe so that he’s standing straight, arms falling back to his sides as he peers behind the entranceway to ensure that the steam is blowing from the spout of the kettle on the hob.

“Fancy some tea, Ryan?” Harry asks once he’s turned back in her direction.

Ryan quickly stumbles to stand upright, wiping her sweaty palms on her cotton biker shorts. An oversized band tee she stole from her ex-boyfriend swishes with her hasty movements, and she can feel her head shaking before her mouth can say no.

“Uh, I’m okay. Don’t want to impose or anything,” she stutters, the sound of her thick woolen mid-calf socks scuffling against the carpeting with her incessant shuffling due to the influx of nerves that begin creeping up her spine.

“Please, Ryan? I can play with Luna! I’m a great sitter,” Jackson proclaims loudly from his seated position behind her. Once again, Ryan finds herself struggling to say no to her new friend with just one look into his beady green eyes. With nothing but a small smile, Ryan’s nodding in Jackson’s direction, her grin growing larger when he scoops up Luna in his little arms, ducking past his father and entering the flat.

Harry chuckles, holding the door open a bit wider so that Ryan can follow him inside.

She’s watching as he ducks into the kitchen, shutting off the burner so that the whistling kettle can quiet down. Ryan watches Jackson plop Luna on the soft emerald rug, laying on his stomach so that he can observe her every move. After guaranteeing that her kitten is in good hands, Ryan enters the kitchen, settling on one of the dark leather barstools and watching Harry grab two tea mugs from the cabinet above the sink.

As his arm extends to reach the top shelf, Ryan can’t help but take note of the contrast between his right and left arm. His left arm was ornamented with various black etchings, flowing across his skin in a strange way that somehow looked beautiful. When Ryan watches his right arm reach out to grab the tea bags, the untouched skin practically blinding against the harsh overhead lights, she feels her throat suddenly dry up—and she’s left wondering if she should add this to her growing list of symptoms she feels whenever she’s around Harry.

“Sugar? Milk?” Harry asks, his back still to her as he rummages around the drawers to prepare their tea.

“Sure.” She’s distracted by the way his thin t-shirt practically hides nothing, the ebb and flow of his back muscles constricting with each gentle movement he makes as he grasps the sugar from the counter and grips the milk from the fridge.

When he turns to meet her at the kitchen island, he clutches both mugs in one hand, the other holding both the sugar jar and milk carton. Ryan’s forced to look away, her mind completely fogging over at the site.

The sound of the ceramic mugs clinking against the granite counter causes Ryan to look up, smiling softly when he pushes the tea in her direction. Just before her hands can clasp around the handle, she regards the black script tattoo above the crook of his elbow, the words Jackson in lowercase lettering make her breath hitch in her throat.

“How have you been, all right?” Harry asks from across the island, reaching for the milk and adding a generous amount to the murky tea. His eyes are busy focusing on the task at hand, and Ryan can finally feel herself calm down a bit.

“Yeah, been okay. You?” she responds, blowing a bit on her tea before bringing the mug to her lips, swallowing deeply and reveling in the taste of the brew. Harry’s eyebrows arch when he notices that she takes her tea black, but he doesn’t make a comment about it, choosing instead to rest his forearms on the counter, pushing his mug a bit closer towards Ryan’s as he leans against the island, infiltrating her personal space just the tiniest bit.

“Yeah, okay. Bit shit with the weather, though. Jackson’s been going crazy,” he comments, his mouth far too distracting when he licks the spilled over tea on his lower lip. Ryan flicks her head over in Jackson’s direction, thankful that she can look at something other than Harry’s stupidly good-looking face.

Ryan hums in agreement, bringing the tea back to her lips as she swivels back in her stool, her eyes back on Harry’s.

“That cat of yours will give him another reason to talk about you for hours,” Harry says with a grin.

“If it weren’t for his knack of sneaking out of your flat, Luna probably would have ended up on the seventh floor. Guess I owe him a proper thank you,” Ryan counters, smiling at the fact that she made Harry laugh.

“Little shit never listens to me,” Harry says lightly, and Ryan suddenly wonders if he has any help looking after Jackson.

She starts to look around the kitchen for any hints of a feminine touch. The state of his flat is disgustingly clean, and when she observes the fridge to see if there are any photographs of Jackson’s mum, she’s found that there’s nothing but artwork most likely done by the hands of a four-year-old.

When she shifts her head to the other side of the room, where the kitchen flows into the living room, she doesn’t really find anything new. The walls are still filled with records, the instruments are still lining the walls, the couch is still void of throw pillows. Ryan tries to visualize the entranceway, trying her hardest to remember if she noticed any heeled boots or women’s jackets on the coat rack.

She hasn’t known Harry long, barely a month at this point, and in that short period of time she’s never heard him speak about a woman before. Ryan’s not stupid—she knows that both sexes are needed to produce a child—but she’s truly never seen a woman enter or exit Harry’s flat.

Granted, it’s only been a month. And she isn’t really sure if she can call him her friend yet, therefore she feels a bit odd in asking. Ryan’s come to the conclusion that maybe Jackson’s mum is an essential worker, a nurse perhaps, a profession in which she has the luxury of leaving her home to go to work.

“Ryan?” Harry’s oaky voice breaks Ryan out of her headspace, and suddenly she’s blinking in Harry’s direction, embarrassed at the fact that she wasn’t listening to anything he had just said to her in the last few minutes.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” she responds lamely, bringing the mug to her lips with the goal of hiding the lower half of her flushed cheeks.

Harry just laughs, cocking his head to the side to observe her intently. “Doesn’t matter. Lost you for a minute in there.”

“Right. Sorry about that,” Ryan responds, wishing Harry would stop looking at her as if she were the most fascinating creature on the planet.

“Does that happen a lot?” Harry asks quietly, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to know every little thing about her.

Ryan’s eyes squint in confusion. “Does what happen?”

“That,” Harry starts, taking a sip of his tea without tearing his eyes away from Ryan’s. “You getting lost in your own head.”

Ryan quietly contemplates Harry’s comment, watching the way he watches her with intrigue. As a serial overthinker, Ryan knows that she retreats sometimes, mulling over her words intensely before speaking. Unlike Fiona who blurts every thought that runs through her head, Ryan’s always been more critical, obsessing over every detail before verbalizing. It’s the only thing that helps subdue her social anxiety.

But she’s found that whenever she’s around Harry, she can’t bring herself to think about anything, really. It’s as if her mind is blank, encouraging her to speak what she truly feels, without all the thinking that usually comes along with it.

She’s not quite sure what that all means.

So she just shrugs, sipping softly. “Sometimes, yeah.”

Harry nods before changing the subject, which makes Ryan feel relieved. “So, my quiet, reclusive neighbor is also a cat lady? It’s far too fitting, Ryan.” He’s teasing her a bit and it’s enough to make Ryan giggle, the sound practically causing Harry to splutter his tea over the rim of his mug.

“I’m all about clichés, clearly,” Ryan responds, her eyes zeroing in on the hollow dimples that appear around his mouth whenever he laughs. She finds herself enjoying the sight very much.

“She’s cute,” Harry says, his eyes shifting from Luna to the woman sitting across from him. Ryan assumes he’s talking about her kitten, and she smiles, swiveling around in her chair to watch Jackson giggle whenever Luna’s paws graze his arms. But when she feels Harry’s gaze on her cheek, she’s wondering if he’s talking about something else, too.

“He’s good with her,” Ryan acknowledges, impressed with how gentle Jackson was with Luna. Most toddlers his age were too handsy with her, scaring her off before she even got the chance to get used to them. But Jackson is proving to be a natural, allowing Luna to grow comfortable around him before he started playing with her.

Harry finally looks over to his son, smiling at the sight in the living room. “Yeah, he’s a good kid.”

Ryan turns round to face Harry again. “He really is. Guess he has you to thank for that. And his mum, I suppose.”

Harry’s face suddenly loses its grin, and Ryan’s wondering if she’s said too much. His eyes have lost their shine, and the granite countertop seems to be more interesting than Ryan’s face. Before she can say anything, an apology or some version of one, the computer in the corner of the living room begins to ring loudly, causing Harry to stand upright and peer at the clock on the microwave screen.

“Shit. Forgot I had a four o’clock meeting,” he says quickly, gathering his mug in one hand and crossing the threshold so that he’s entering the living room space. Ryan stands up, frowning down at her half-emptied cup of tea, wondering what blend Harry uses because it’s just that good, and she’s a bit sad to leave it unfinished.

Harry turns around, catching the frown on Ryan’s face. “You can finish it at yours if you’d like,” he offers with a small smile.

“Oh, no it’s okay, I wouldn’t want to—”

“—Ryan,” Harry says, cutting her off and walking towards her so that he’s fully in her line of vision, “It’s fine. ‘S not like I don’t know where you live.” The smirk is back on his face and the blush is back coating Ryan’s cheeks, and suddenly the balance has been restored in their small universe.

Ryan nods, clutching the mug tightly in her hands and side-stepping Harry in order to reach Jackson and Luna on the living room floor. “‘M sorry, champ, but Luna and I have got to go.”

“Really?” Jackson says, tearing his eyes away from Luna and onto the two adults standing in front of him. He’s frowning and Ryan instantly feels bad.

“Yeah, Bubs, daddy’s got work to do. I’m sure you can see Luna again very soon, if Ryan’s okay with it,” Harry says, causing two pairs of green eyes to fall onto her frame.

She nods quickly, crouching down in front of her small friend and grabbing Luna in her unoccupied hand. “Of course, champ. We’ll schedule a playdate.”

Jackson grins enthusiastically, wiggling on the floor with excitement. Before Ryan can respond, Harry appears in front of her, a small smile on his face.

“I’ll see you later, Ryan,” he mutters in a low timbre.

“Bye, Harry. Thanks again for the tea,” she responds, heading towards the doorway in her socks and leaving the confines of his flat, trying her hardest to catch her breath in the silence of the empty hallway.

It’s only once she’s back in her own flat, her sad attempt of dinner disposed of in the bin and in its place an oversized bowl of cereal in one hand, with Harry’s mug in the other, Ryan comes to a startling realization.

Harry’s tea mug was a far better alternative than the fucking plunger.

*** A/N: Hi guys, here’s part three of you feel like home! I hope you enjoyed it. Part four will be posted on Thursday November 19, so feel free to chat with me in the meantime! This was a submission for the 1DFF Quarantine Challenge, which has other amazing writers participating as well, so feel free to check out the page! x

taglist: @stylishmuser @vikki1220 @greatestview @verorax @cronias13 @adoremp3 @ilovegolden @taintedwonder @stepping-into-the-light @onlyphysicallypresent @dontwanttobealone @justsaying20 @elemayox @awomanindeniall @ihearthemcallingforyou @halloweenniall @live-at-the-forum @kakayam @harryinsweatersandbandanas @hopelessly-harry @ficnarry @morethanamelodyy @niallgolden @harryswinterberries @caramello-styles

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #hs #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x reader #harry x ofc #1dff #1dffupdates #fic: home #1dffquarantine

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digitalworldbound · 4 years

Text

the chosen on social media

this is inspired by @tangledupblue and her wonderful instagram series. you can find those here, as well as other digimon related things! (please check them out - i love them!)

hikari

probably has a cute handle - something like @/light.of.your.life or @/hikariferarri (courtesy of takeru).

is instagram FAMOUS for her photography. she also helps the other chosen take quality pictures for their social medias

she only has facebook so that she can share her mom’s recipes

while she likes snapchat, the updates can get confusing. there have been multiple times where she sent iori a message meant for miyako

hikari loves twitter, but only to find meme to send to the “LIL BABEY MONS” group chat. (in reference to one of her fav vids, THIS).

has a tiktok, but only posts behind-the-scenes shots of photo shoots or asmr day-in-my-life clips.

iori

he has an instagram, but posts once every 43 weeks

he loves using Facebook to keep up with his family members, kendo pals, and school friends. he only posts selfies that make him look like an old man or the shots hikari captures at his matches.

despite being the youngest chosen, he really acts like the oldest. he doesnt really get all of the "twitting" and "chat snapping". why don't people just send emails anymore?

he only downloaded snapchat because miyako threatened him with his life kindly suggested that he be apart of the "LIL BABEY MONS" group chat

yamato

this boy is a twitter KING

he can literally post about his least favorite genre of milk (🤢 skim 🤢) and have thousands of retweets in a few minutes

instagram isnt really his “thing”, but anytime he does post, takeru gives him shit for it

he has to most followers out of anyone in the group, but mimi is a close second

facebook hasn’t been a thing for him since he was eleven and wanted to play farmville

sora

she updates DAILY for her facebook friends

anytime she drinks a diet coke? posted. the horrible incident involving veemon and a lost diaper? written about in detail.

she is a total mom friend, and most of her pictures consist of piyomon and her friends at their extracurricular activities.

she runs a fan account for knife of day on twitter. after the band changed their name, most of their follower-base was lost, so sora...became a fandom catfish to give them clout.

once a month, she has to go on a “social media detox” because she used pinterest more than 3 hours.

ken

tries to avoid all social media because people still tag him in his old interviews. (his hair style? 🤢 🤢 his attitude? 🤮 🤮

he also used to be a cyber bully in elementary school. his old email address was [email protected]

he’s on linkedin,,,,,,it’s not that cool

he leaves everyone on read with snapchat. his philosophy is that if the person truly needed him, they would just call

he LOVES making playlists on spotify!!! some of them even have more than ten likes!!!

also, he updates his goodreads daily and makes sure to review every single thing he has ever read.

daisuke

this boy SPAMS snapchat and his instagram with food pics

“phone eats first”

he also lowkey runs a thirst-trap tiktok account. his motto is “i do it for the girls and the gays, that’s it.”

his snap score is ASTRONOMICAL, and he probably has well over 300 friends.

he often posts those “anonymous message” things, but only posts the nice ones because he wants people to think that he is Super Cool.

he tries too hard on instagram, and the other chosen often tease him in the comments

his favorite pastime is to watch trick-shots on youtube

jou

he doesnt really have the time to divulge in social media, so his phone is pretty dry.

his only friends on snapchat are the eleven other chosen and his “””””””””””girlfriend”””””””””””””””””””

facebook?? who is she??

he only uses instagram to promote local charities, share photos of “interesting” x-rays, wounds, etc, and to post links to informational articles

that’s it, honestly. he is a simple man.

miyako

QWEEN of EVERYTHING, sry about it

instagram? she serves LOOKS daily

snapchat? you KNOW she spams “LIL BABEY MONS” at all hours of the night with obscure memes and questions about philosophy.

she also loves to use pinterest for some of her more elaborate ideas, but leaves the bulk of that to mimi.

she is semi-famous on twitter for starting drama in the “computer enthusiat” community (it isn’t her fault that twelve-year-old boys have the ego of a fully grown daisuke and need to be knock down a peg or few)

miyako is also a life-style vlogger, but her most famous video is titled “day in the life of a japanese student that casually studied abroad in spain but is back now!!! 🌸 💫 🌈 ”

she also invites mimi onto her channel so that they can make disaster-prone recipes together

koushiro

he has snapchat because it is mimi’s preferred form of communication

anytime kou sees a cool flower or something pretty, he sends it to the girls

despite being very proficient in computer studies, he refuses to help the girls change the html text of their blogs to make it ombre

linkedin is his most favorite, and he thinks it is fun to update his resume

he lowkey is the admin of a world-wide digimon discord server along with takeru

taichi

his snap score rivals daisuke’s, but it is mainly used for his teammates and the various...lovely women he meets up with most nights.

his dm’s are always full, and his instagram is full of only soccer pics. that’s it. that is his only personality trait.

he only follows two (2) famous soccer players on twitter, but hasnt logged on since middle school. his profile picture is a stock photo of a dinosaur

,,,,,,,,,lowkey has pornhub premium

mimi

pinterest is her literal bestfriend. she is ALWAYS searching up ideas about home decor, new recipes, etc.

YOUTUBER STATUS!!!! she is so chaotic and edits her videos to the max, but the public love her.

her insta is filled with plants, cute outfits, scenery, and candids of her friends. she also highkey loves having a social media theme!!

she has 86 profiles on facebook because she keeps forgetting her passwords and doesnt know how to delete the old ones

takeru

he LOVES goodreads! he makes all kinds of friends that like the same stories!!

he loves moderating the digimon discord server because he can learn all kinds of language and ways to tell hikari he loves her

he posts aesthetic pictures of books and coffee shops on his insta and odd snippets of his friends (hikari's hand in the corner, yamato's hair poking about, whatever strikes his fancy)

#digimon #digimon headcanons #taichi yagami #yamato ishida #sora takenouchi #ken ichijouji #takeru takaishi #hikari yagami #miyako inoue #iori hida #mimi tachikawa #koushiro izumi #daisuke motomiya #jou kido

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docholligay · 4 years

Note

Just in case anyone else didn't ask it: She-ra thoughts?

Ah, yes, we finally finished the She-Ra last night. Okay, so I feel like I don’t have to say this, because I think this is in keeping with my general empotional timbre but: It’s fine if you loved the last season. I cannot EXPRESS how little I care. I do not go to bed at night thinking “IF ONLY I COULD CONVINCE THOSE FOOLS” I think arguing about it is stupid, by and large, because I find it highly unlikely that anything I sy is going to make someone who loved it go “You’re right, it was fool’s gold, but truly, I wanted so badly for it to bring wealth” and I doubt anyone could say anything that would get me to say “Oh you have opened mine eyes! I can see the craftwork that I so long denied” like come on.

Remember how Jet hated Madoka Magica, and how it stopped me for not even five seconds from thinking it was fucking incredible, and how we managed to continue being friends because an animated show being good or not is not something grown people stew about? Good.

So this isn’t a REFERENDUM on however you felt about it. I don’t cre. Let me take your hand. I do. Not. Care.

So:

I thought it was HORRENDOUSLY paced, and most of the problems I have with it, but not all, come out of that. It was frustrating because the show by and large had been so good, even when I hadn’t loved a step it took, of being well considered and being willing to fully embrace the idea that a character can be wrong, or that you are allowed to feel multiple ways about something.

People, I think, assume I hated Catra, but I don’t! I NEVER did, I LOOOOOOOVED Catra as a character, allowed to show how someone can be so twisted in their own fucking victimhood that they become the villain. I thought it was a brilliant bit of writing. I though having her and Glimmer, both so driven to the point, square off against each other, was amazing. I FULLY EXPECTED, and you can find me talking about this several seasons back, that she would have a redemption arc. I know how kid’s shows work, but also I knew she was Noelle Stevenson’s favorite, and there was no way she was going to let her close out the show being unredeemed.

I also knew Catradora was happening, because it’s Stevenson’s ship. And no hate! Please know if I was running either SM or OW: The HBO series, it would go down EXACTLY the way I wanted.

So I think what people thought my problems were are mischaracterized, reductionist, and a bit unfair.

My problem was I got fucking WHIPLASH off the turnaround. We should have: have more seasons, made it last the whole season, started it earlier, or not had Catra fall so far. ANY of those would have helped the situation IMMENSELY for me. Catra literally tried to MURDER them all, MULTIPLE times, and I feel like she made one gesture and was let off the hook. I will have to go back and take a tally, but I think we stay pissed at her in the group for like TWO EPISODES. MAX. No one is allowed to continue to mistrust her, to resent her, nothing.

I feel like she was never really held to task for her self-pitying horseshit, and unfortunately, the DIRE circumstances made things where I even maybe thought she had a point dissolve before my very eyes.

Like, I know you don’t want Adora to die, and you may even have a fucking point here, but if it’s one girl versus the world, you are being selfish to keep her. The world matters utterly more. Doc, I would think you would like that, her being utterly selfish, oh I WOULD LOVE IT, if the show in any way allowed you to hold the idea that Catra is Selfish and Bad. It’s the Iron Man problem, where the movie won’t leave me space to think he’s terrible, so instead of being like, Tony Stark, you little twit, I have to full-on hate him.

And unfortunately, this isn’t just a problem with that whole storyline. Everything felt so rushed and set to the side, and the side characters we’d come to love got almost no real feel of resolution for me, or emotional depth.

Like we haven’t spent any time with Spinerella or Netossa, but I’m supposed to get emotionally involved in the fact that they’re on opposite sides? I’m supposed to care about two characters who I have really only seen in passing? It takes a lot to make me want to bring my own emotions to the table, and it never managed that.

The Glimmer and Bow thing felt entirely shoehorned in for reasons I don’t even fully understand, and I thought the pair-offs at the end were GENERALLY lazy. Not everyone needs to have a romantic interest at the end of the show! It could have been SPinerella/Netossa, Catra/Adora, and Mermista/Seahawl, and I think we all would have lived fine. Those are the couples we’ve come to expect, that were laid into the show, etc. Why pair everyone else up? I don’t get it all.

I find brainwashing storylines very lazy and can never get emotionally invested in the whole ~my friend is now my enemy~ thing unless it’s VERY VERY well-written.

MInor side note: INCREDIBLY unimpressed with the future flash with Adora all feminine and Catra having walked back her short hair. But glad, I suppose, to see that this show has never stopped from it’s goal of making any woman you could possibly take as butch and making sure you feminize her.

THE GOOD

I did love the showdown between Micah and Glimmer. I thought that was really thematically important for Glimmer and her struggle with her powers, and there was nothing on earth I found disappointing about her blasting her dad in the face with 895 volts of eat a dick. It was great. Loved it.

SHADOW WEAVER. Perhaps my vote for MVP of the entire show, I love that she was emotionally complex and difficult to read to the end. I love that even as she’s giving her lives for Catra and Adora, but also, mostly, because she knows it’s the only way the world will get saved, her last words are “You’re welcome” She was never NICE, but she provided a very complex marrative about evil and good, and she lived in the greys in many ways, and I thought she was a terribly interesting character that you were allowed to feel a WHOLE VARIETY of ways about.

Seahawk’s whole “This reminds me of when we first met! You tried to kill me then, too” I howled at his whole thing. They are the only valid straight/het/whatever couple in the show and perhaps the world. (I mean, I would have rather he be a butch lesbian anyday, but)

WRONG HORDAK. That was so well done and funny, I just thought it was a delight throughout the entire season.

But all in all, it was such a major writing disappointment. It was so poorly done in these final strokes, and that's so ridiculously shocking given the good writing of other seasons.

#and please do not DARE tell me 'it's a kid's show'#unless you want me to look down my nose every time you recommend one #madegeeky

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