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#just me and my little raft made of sticks
teex · 7 months
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Have you ever done a list of your favorite Jamie x Trevor works?
hello! i am going to assume this ask is about fic. if it isnt, please just ignore!
i have definitely recced various drygras fics before but i dont know that i have ever made a list, so here's one! everything on here is Wonderful and i have reread at least once, tho the list def isnt comprehensive. ao3 has tonsss of great fic for them, and i am forgetful
anyway! in no order except for the first fic bc its the goat:
checked swing by dilangley
Every morning, Jamie walks out into the kitchen of the little team-provided apartment and sees Trevor Zegras in his kitchen. And it ruins his fucking day. Every fucking time. (Baseball AU)
-fucking just, incredible writing. incredible characterizations and chemistry. only rated T but still one of the most satisfying fics YK!!
2. ain't going down without a fight by countthestars
Trevor may not be patient, but he is persistent. (Werewolf AU)
-Such a great exploration of their first season together, enemies to friends to lovers, now with werewolves!
3. If A Group of Ducks Is Called a Raft You Keep Me Afloat by neerdowellwolf
"I wish we could go to the beach." "Right now? That's how you get eaten by sharks, Jamie." "Oh, is that how?" "Yeah. It is how. Nice boy like you, pale little legs in the dark? Practically a beacon." Jamie hadn't known what to expect. That the chirping, shit talking player he'd lined up across from would turn out to be this smiling, laid back girl keeping up a near continuous running commentary as they play COD. She's funny, in a dry low-key way and she asks him questions about his life, his family. Jamie finds his shoulders relaxing without thinking about it. (girl!Trevor AU)
-hot! and funny and a little bit angsty. i loved the depictions of trevor and jamie here and the way trevor being a girl changes and doesn't change the dynamic
4. Fever Dream High by canary
Every single person at this party was taller than Jamie, and tanner, and glowier, like an impenetrable wall of Southern California cool. (non-hockey AU)
-trevor and jamie recently met and recently fucked and now they are seeing each other again at a fancy party ;))
5. She don't pay rent but she stays on my mind by theaa
He’s never kissed a girl with short hair. Honest to god doesn’t think he’s ever done it. (girl!Jamie AU)
-trevor going against his usual type bc he is just fully infatuated with jamie. so much sex and so much fondness and just a reallyreally great fic
6. Short Sleeves in December by makeit_takeit
Outside the windows that look out into the gym, is a guy. He’s got dirty blond hair, sun-bleached ends curling shaggy and disheveled around his ears, sticking out from under a flat-brimmed hat. He’s wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut out, sides hanging open down past his ribs, and athletic shorts that are hiked up to stretch around the considerable width of his upper quads. He’s standing there on the wooden floor of the basketball court, barefoot and sweaty and tan all over, looking like what California would look like if it was a person. And his pale blue eyes (of course they’re blue eyes) are narrowed, laser-focused, and they’re staring right at Jamie. (Highschool AU)
-i just read and recced this! but i will still happily put it on an actual rec list. this was a great alternate enemies to lovers story for them, and somehow perfectly captured the way it felt to be in high school with a crush, and the eventual giddiness of finding out that crush liked you back
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tobiasdrake · 3 months
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Finally, we're off to sea. If that's what you call this.
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You know, this just occurred to me. If Patches has to keep his eyes shut to use his magic, how do we navigate? Like. Is it someone's job to rotate him? Take him by the shoulders and turn him left or right?
In any case, at least we're on our-- Hey, where the hell is Teaks? Did she miss the boat or fall overboard? Or was she the only one of us with enough good sense to go, "Hahaha nope, I'll wait for the next one."
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I'd heard that no one ever returns but I'd just assumed the Dweller of Woe was eating them or something. Are they. Like. Community building instead? That'd be weird.
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Kind of, then. It's like a psychic ranch. She keeps people as livestock and occasionally takes them out to slaughter.
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Oh shit yes. Can we board it now? Trade in this dinghy for the spoils of our conquest? TELL ME we can do this side quest!
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Aww, I wanted it to be ours now. But okay. Fine. We can do my thing first. Pout.
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Hold up, how can the night be everlasting if we're expecting an eclipse? Night isn't what happens when the moon is present; It's what happens when the sun is absent. The moon has no authority over the night and day cycle, and is in fact frequently in the sky during day.
You cannot have an eclipse without a sun in the sky. The sky doesn't work that way.
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Is the eclipse going to, like, magically pierce it somehow? Because, again, you can't have an eclipse during perpetual night.
Well, I guess if it's a lunar eclipse, you can. Those are pretty common.
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You know, I kinda expected you guys to pull up close and make us swim the rest of the way while you hightailed it away from Psychic Cattle Farm Island. Surprised you were willing to stick your necks out like this.
Means a lot to me. I will try not to let you get eaten by the Dweller.
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T_T I'm sorry I made fun of your stupid raft. This is really touching and now I want to be besties forever.
Guess we should set up camp and figure out--
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TEAKS!
She did wait for the next boat. Or she swam. One or the other.
It's great to have you with us, Teaks. I'm sorry if you end up doomed forever because of it.
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There are illusionary treasure chests hiding ghost ambushes. I hate this--
Oh. Pardon me. These are woodland spirits. Illusionary treasure chests hiding gaea's vengeance. The metaphysical consciousnesses that guide the natural order of our world want me dead for some reason. Can't imagine wh--
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...okay, so perhaps I have not always been the most reverent of Solstice Warriors. We may have gotten off on the wrong foot. But. It doesn't have to be that way. I believe that, with maturity and grace, we can learn to understand each other and-- RANDOM BULLSHIT GO.
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HAHAHA GOT 'EM. Test me, fuck-os.
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You know, this is a nice little town the cattlefolk have made for themselves. We've got electric lighting. Nice homes. You almost don't even notice the gloom.
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There's even transparent ghost people wandering near their graves! That's great. It means when the Dweller eats once of your loved ones, they come right back to you lickity-split.
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You know, I was wondering. I figured there was some sort of low-level psychic barrier that just convinces everyone to stay, but no. It's threat of force. Everyone lives here in uncertainty wondering when the Dweller will summon them to be devoured, but if you try to leave then you're summoned immediately.
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Denial? Your bar is denial? That's pretty clever, honestly. Points for that.
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GARL NO
Do not give these people hope. They have no ability to influence what's about to happen in any way. If we win then they'll be free to go whether they knew it was coming or not, but if we lose then they'll be crushed by false promises. Hype is an insidious monster that strangles reality in its bed.
Let's just kill what we came to kill, and then we can start talking about it. It isn't news until it actually happens.
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There's something about this place. Like. A commentary on the way we use escapism to distract from the hopelessness of living in a world that seems to be getting worse by the day. People meeting at The First Stage of Grief to share fictions of what they want their lives to be like, it resonates with our moment in time.
This place is really interesting.
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Hold up, the squiddy on the end of Patches's staff is alive? I honestly thought that was a woodcarving.
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Yeah, I have nothing to add to that. This place is a sobering reminder that action and glory are meant for something. In all seriousness, the end-goal shouldn't be the enrichment of the self, but of society.
An organization that claims ownership of violence for "the greater good" must always be cognizant that what they are doing is for the betterment of people's lives. Not of "society" as a whole even, but specifically, "Is the service I'm providing making people happier?"
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einsteinsugly · 6 months
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Fictober 13. That 70s Show. July 1994. Unca Hyde.
"Unca Hyde, come with me!" A little redhead weaves through the woods, like an unraveling ball of yarn. "Hurry!"
In the blink of an eye, they reach a clearing. A little clearing, at the edge of Bob's beachfront property, in Pleasant Prairie. Just big enough to start a project of epic proportions, apparently.
A stone's throw from Lake Michigan, the sun is beginning to set, but the fun and games are far from over. Betsy is "babysitting" to the best of a Kelso's ability, which is code for, someone's gotta check on her. Every once in awhile.
So Hyde has heard and taken a tiny glimpse at the kids' epic project, but he feigns surprise. "What is this?"
"The big kids made a fort." Four year old Leah happily takes the bait, before pointing to the tentative babysitter. "'Cept Betsy."
Becca's dark, curly head peeks out from the fort. It's like a standalone blanket fort, made with twigs. "Daddy, she says she's all smart, but she doesn't know how to put two sticks together."
Betsy groans. By design, Becca is always Betsy's purposeful buzzkill. "I swear, it's like a game of freaking Jenga!"
And Becca refuses to relent, and Hyde can't help but chuckle. Like father, like daughter. "It's a game she really sucks at."
Hyde shrugs, briefly sticking his head into the fort, easily putting two and two together. "Guess that's what happened to the ropes and pillows."
"Kate made it all cozy in there." The other redhead sticks her head out of the makeshift fort, with a happy little wave. Becca stays at the doorway, next to her best friend, readily relaying the details. "Hannah's thinkin' about adding some blankets."
James tries to push his way into the fort, and Kate and Becca guard the doorway. "We're gonna take 'em from Uncle Eric and Aunt Donna's boat."
Leah shakes her head, with a seemingly much better idea. "I think taking them from Unca Fez'll be easier."
Leah attempts a similar maneuver, and Hyde loudly clears his throat for the second time, in parental disapproval.
James shrugs. "Like taking candy from a baby?"
Now, Hyde has to be the parent. The cool parent, but a parent, nonetheless. "You're not supposed to steal stuff from Uncle Fez."
Kate attempts diplomacy, rather than brute force. "We can ask nicely. That's what I did for the ropes and pillows."
"I don't think you want a blanket from Uncle Fez," Betsy awkwardly declares, "He sleeps naked."
The kids erupt into a chorus of "ewws," and Hyde nods. "Gotta agree there."
But Betsy continues to add fuel to the fire, as she mindlessly swings two twigs in the dirt. "Didn't you say Uncle Eric used to be Mr. Nude?"
Another slew of "ewws" erupt, particularly from Leah and Kate, and Hyde promptly lays his theoretical cards out on the table.
"He learned his lesson, when he got caught by a neighbor in Africa..."
Now, there's an obnoxious chorus, to the tune of Toto's "Africa." "Duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh!"
The kids can be incredibly endearing, but sometimes, they can be incredibly annoying. "You can't keep doin' that every time anybody mentions Uncle Eric's times in Africa..."
"I bless the rains down in Africa, for changing my life." Somehow, the sound of Toto is a cue for Eric to dutifully appear. With a snarky smirk spreading like margarine. "Without taking the time to do things I never have before, who knows where I'd be..."
Betsy loudly scoffs. "You'd be like a scrawny comic book guy, Uncle Eric. How embarrassing."
"I mean, speaking of which. It would be nice if you gave back my Star Wars: Droids..."
"It fell in the lake. I was trying to read it on a raft." Eric innately squeaks, horrified, and everyone looks at him oddly. But Betsy continues anyway, unabated. "I told Dad that the lady of the lake took it, and he totally believed me..."
Kelso comes running, with a squeal of his own. "Was that the lady of the lake?"
Hyde chuckles. "You can say that."
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incarnateirony · 2 years
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I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss old fandom. And this isn't a "whining about the Winchesters" post.
It's just.. literally the fandom.
Watching these clout chasing goblins spread lies, play games, come back into my DM trying to talk out both sides of their mouth to fish for what I have, "big name fans should stick together", "don't you care what people think?"
Like guys. I don't just come from the gulf. Some of me, unfortunately, is stuck here, despite my best valiant efforts to get out.
But I remember many things.
I remember the postcards this fandom sent to the crew during writers strikes when we had no other way
I remember feathers sent to save Castiel and rehire misha.
I remember the many years fans repitched wayward until berens picked it up.
I remember SPN Rescue, and when the government wouldn't save New Orleans, we went out there as a family on our fucking life rafts saving lives for no glory of our own, but because it was the right fucking thing to do
the remaining trivial loud bitches around here dont even know what Nola is, Katrina is, what cultural shit set that up or that we even WENT there to fight, while they try to White Wander into Nola and establish their own nonsense.
These were the things that made the fandom ours. Really ours. Over time, well intended fundraisers available online became click and order activism and it's like everyone just. Forgot. What we used to do.
I remember when Lua and I put aside our differences, and SPN Rescue and BT worked together so wide we got travis banned from worldwide conventions, not just SPN.
Like this fandom used to be a power force but all of the old blood got burned out by assholes and the new kids filling their roles genuinely seem to gauge all things in clout trade rather than that.
Like. It seems to be frying one person in particular's brain. We don't get along. They found out, apparently, somehow, that I am in fact correct, and they've been bouncing off my dms on alts on various socials trying to wiggle in since because it's just. Utterly roasting them how this could mutually be true and how at the same time nobody cares about a bunch of privileged assholes roleplaying on twitter.
Yeah, big name fans SHOULD stick together, but you new kids came in acting like privileged assholes that think you can speculate and rumor your way through life. If me and Lua used to be able to work out our shit to do what was important, you guys can too, but your little digital thrones matter more to the current lot than the actual actions and results. All talk
nah man you new kids lost the plot. fuck sticking together. i'm here for the guys, not for myself and not for you. i'm here for PEOPLE and RESULTS. You're here for. Whatever the pile of constantly edited narrative on 2p0's wall is. Or the 72 alts trying to get back into my server now that they were told the truth by someone on high who has been screaming BUT HOW DID YOU KNOW since. yeah. uh, i already told you how. not sure why your gears are getting stuck here
Yall lazy ass victim mindset late invaders coming in trying to demand everyone be as lazy and noisy and pointless as you and just trying to bury an entire past of this fandom many like 2p0 are wholesale oblivious to. That history makes them irrelevant attention seekers rather than people of action, and man they will do anything in their power to drama llama it out but like
how shall i say
we're here now
at the end of the road
...was it worth it?
youtube
seriously tho that BNF line I got sent was such a red flag and you don't even realize it
realistically bnf is an illusion as it is
the most powerful people in this fandom, you never know until it's too late.
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inkydoc · 11 months
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Tem plays TotK - a liveblog experience
Part 1 - first impressions
first things first, game good, Tem have fun, also Tem will say spoilery things in the future, so proceed with caution :D i'll tag this post and all reblogs as totk spoilers so you can block that if you so wish :3
and with that, let's embark on a magical adventure of recapturing the magic of botw and taking very shitty pictures of my switch screen because i can't be arsed to hook it up to the computer and navigate the mess that is the screenshot folder :D
case in point, dragon sighting:
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okay, so if you've spent any time on the internet and have the slightest interest in loz then you've probably seen the explody dick thing, which was an expected outcome but also i love that you can do that!!! haven't strayed far from the rafts/planks with hooks/single log with a fan at the end kinda builds yet, but i can't wait! already had the "oh i've seen a plank way across the island that would be perfect here" moment, also i did drag a glowing minecart across a cave because i wasn't ready to say goodbye to it (and also didn't have a stick to use as a torch so yea i kinda used it as a light source too XD ) i've seen some criticism of the building gameplay being a weird addition, but i think it's really impressive and i just enjoy the potential for ✨️shenanigans✨️, my favourite part of botw (apart from bombing things, but that is also shenanigans)
also the game is really pretty!!! the nature is very nature (although getting used to always yellow trees is a doozy) and the design of the world is very appealing to me too :D i loved the Sheikah tech in the first one and i LOVE the Zonai stuff in this, ancient stone tech is my jam! also the steward constructs make stone klick-klack sounds as they move, it's sooo satisfying :3 and yes i got my first injury from the first soldier you encounter because i was like "look, adorable little robot, hiiii" and was rewarded with a stick to the face for my efforts XD although speaking of design, i can't get over the fact that the gadget Purah made for Zelda to take pictures is a fancy Switch with an eye at the back XD
my only problem is that i feel like the game expects me to know who the Zonai are and uh... i have no idea :"D yes yes imma hand in my Zelda fan badge and do some googling :D
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highandlowculture · 2 years
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Of Fins and Rafts
"Did you see that?" - Witness on the beach
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Ever since I was a small boy I've been entranced and baffled by this one shot in JAWS in which Alex Kintner is eaten by the shark and I'm not the only one. Film critic Nigel Andrews once described the shot quite accurately as "a windmilling flurry of dark movement." All I could ever figure out was that you were seeing one of the shark's fins or maybe two of its fins and who knows what else?? I've watched this shot in slow motion on DVD and then Blu-ray. I've studied stills on-line. It's been like the goddamn Zapruder film for me. A few years back some awesome stills of a deleted scene surfaced in which you see Bruce the mechanical shark, in all his glory, rising from the waters and chomping down on the Kintner boy.
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This gave me a clue that there was even more going on with this shot than we originally realized. Was it a snippet of these leaked photos? The documentary The Shark Is Still Working actually went as far to show the outtakes of this more explicit shark attack in color and in motion and confirmed that yes: This shot comes from that outtake.
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And yet no one on the internet could figure out what exactly we were seeing in the shot! Upon closer inspection it looked like two fins and maybe part of the shark's snout, but none of the positioning made any sense. And why was the shark so black? Was it a trick of shadow and sun? I watched the outtakes in slow motion again and again and kept comparing them with a GIF of the shot I had on repeat and vowed to finally figure it out and guess what? I did and I feel like an idiot for not seeing the shot for what I now see it to be: The big black thing popping up in the water is the BOTTOM of Kintner's raft. Just look at the photo below: The top is famously yellow but the bottom is BLACK (I never thought about this even though I've seen the film over a hundred times).
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With this now in mind, I rewatched the outtake that showed the shot from another angle and it all fell into place! We're catching a glimpse of the aftermath of the shark rising to the surface and attacking Kintner as the shark chomps down and spins around in the water. These are the dark objects we see in order: dorsal fin of the shark, black side of the raft popping up from the water, and the tail fin of the shark. As the tail fin disappears beneath the water the raft is front and center and the last object on screen before the cut away. Somehow it makes the shot a little less frightening knowing that the big black object in the center of this whirlwind is just the raft, but it's still an awesome shot nonethless. And it only took me four decades and various pieces of archival material to figure it out...!!!
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!!!UPDATE!!!
I got into a debate with somebody on Facebook over my dorsal and tail fin + raft theory. They insisted that the tail fin was a pectoral fin because if the shark was flipping over on its side, the pectoral fin would protrude from the water. And it would: If it was a real shark. The footage of the outtake from The Shark Is Still Working makes it clear the two fins visible in the shot are the dorsal and tail. The pectoral fin never appears. This is because it was removed for the shot...
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There were two mounted Bruce the mechanical sharks. One was a very basic model with only half the side made up to look like the shark for shots where you only saw the dorsal and tail fin breaking the surface (like when you see the shark swimming in the pond). The other mounted Bruce was more detailed and complex. Its body could thrash about and it could bite down on things. This was the Bruce used for this shot. The pectoral fins were removable for storing purproses, but my theory is they realized that when the shark bit down, flipped on its side and resubmerged, the pectoral fin was going to stick out from the water because the mounted Bruce couldn't make a 180-degree flip. This would make the shark look dead or fake on screen. Their solution to this problem was to simply remove the pectoral fins. This explains the various photos of Bruce sans pectorals in Katama Bay (where the second unit filmed this pickup shot) and why you don't see a pectoral fin in the outtake as Bruce flips over and submerges into the water. It also explains why in the shot you only see two fins and a raft and not three fins and a raft.
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Yet another thing that makes this shot so fascinating. Spielberg and Verna Fields had no idea when they went for this less revealing shot of the shark first attacking Kintner that decades later fans would have the means to slow down the shot and study it frame by frame. They just thought people would see a bunch of dark ominious stuff happening in the water and that's still pretty much what most people see. But what we're really seeing is something we shouldn't be seeing: A shark without a pectoral fin just so a shot can be made. The artifice of the beast is revealed and forever there on screen. In my opinion, it doesn't take away from the magic of JAWS. It only adds to it by showing the level of ingenuity that went behind the making of this classic film.
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thegeminisage · 10 months
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ok, i decided to bank on the main quest sending me up to the highlands eventually. i'm here on the road so like...let's fuckin do it
that being said, i don't have any sun food...lemme see if i have anything i can cook first lol
wow my meals are full <3 so i ate a speed up thingy and made one (1) space for a chillshroom thing. good thing i have plenty of portable pots.......
oh wow. i really did start swaying with heat exhaustion the second i stepped into the canyon. damn.
man i love this already. the shade and caves makes it better but i bet at night we swing the other way. it's ncie because i don't have sand killing my movement speed yet lol
yoooo there's a guy trapped in here! i'll rescue you bud
oh this is one of the people who went missing i think!
yo my man addison is out here even...also swaying in the heat lol. i hope he gives me useful food 😭
ooh he did
omg no way there are real tumbleweeds rolling around lol
i found FAIRIES!!! in this well. but theyre all flying so high it's hard to catch them...i got 2 at least :/
aaand i pop out into the cold. at least i have armor for this, tho i'm sad to take off my oot gear
DAMN i forgot to get extra fans and there's a korok here who needs transport!!!! sometimes the game provides you with that sort of thing but Not Here. This Is The Desert
spend zonaite, or leave the korok behind...?
option 3! just carry him! there was a place with like stairsteps that it was possible to climb. thank fuck.
YOOOO ITS FAROSH...I DONT HAVE ANY FAROSH PARTS YET.......girl come down here 😭
i'm not gonna spend zonaite. not even for this. it's for the battery.
besides, the reason i don't have any farosh parts yet is bc i don't have the entire rubber armor set...she would chew me up and spit me out
well, i found a falling block to use recall on and got close enough to get a scale :/ i really need a claw but i'll take it
oh wow. the road really did become a river. wtf...
aaand it's hot again!! damn.
this fucking shrine quest with the laser and the crystal...i just wanted a fast travel point!!
oh i found another guy! worth it then
"i could kiss ya right now" 🏳‍🌈
aaah and the music comes in...nothing like the OG gerudo valley but still nice to hear
there's a fan and a control stick here...not enough for a bike BUT enough to build a little raft <3
passing up a couple of caves :/ because i wanna get to the mouth of the river before i abandon my boat. i'll go back for them soon but it's Bothering me
found it!
oh shit i went up the waterfall to look better and when i came down i saw a yiga statue.........it's almost time for them ig
peeked on the map (sorry) and there's a hideout here but i can't find it. i wonder if the story will send me back here...
ok BACK 2 thecave i missed
SICK?? theres a sand waterfall in here
aw i found the last guy! very good. i'm not going back rn tho. it took too long to get here!! i think my lookout tower is close and then i can go anywhere i want
god i really do love that you can just vaporize ice enemies with fire fruit. i have like 200 of them i love when things are easy
awww a cherry tree out here...very good <3 i did finally look those up and while they are handy, they become kind of useless if you're cheating with an interactive map lol
unlocked the map...........only one tower left to go
I Can See The Last Geoglyph From Here. i gotta calm down lol
I SEE FAROSH!!!!!! girl i gotta have that claw. girl. girl. girl
GOT IT AND CAUGHT IT IN MIDAIR! FUCK yes.
i landed a little ways from where i started...trying to decide on going back to get the caves and seeds i missed or pushing forward. wow something for future liz to figure out tonight
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Hey There Reader,
Continuing a discussion on Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, I'd like to write a little bit about the morality of novel. It's certainly a murkier topic, but there are moments that I think shine through and provide not only the satire Twain had been known for at this point in his career, but also powerful messaging he claimed to not have in the beginning of this very story. I'm of course referring to the growth of Huck Finn through his relationship with Jim, the escaping slave he spends his adventure with.
Early in the novel, as the pair make their way, as they incorrectly assume, north along the Mississippi river, Huck tries to stick to his childish ways. Huck views Jim as lesser-than, because of Jim's slavery, and honestly the predominant sentiment towards black people in the time of the novel which itself transposes a sense of morality on the children that grow up with in it, Huck plays some practical jokes on Jim. The two that come to mind are as follows:
"I went to the cavern to get some [tobacco], and found a rattlesnake in there. I killed him, and curled him up on the foot of Jim's blanket, ever so natural, thinking there'd be some fun when Jim found him there. Well, by night I forgot all about the snake, and when Jim flung himself down on the blanket while I struck a light, the snake's mate was there, and bit him." (63)
and
"When I got to [the raft] Jim was setting there with his head down between his knees, asleep, with his right arm hanging over the steering oar. The other oar was smashed off, and the raft was littered up with leaves and branches and dirt. So she'd had a rough time. I made fast and laid down under Jim's nose on the raft, and begun to gap, and stretch my fists out against Jim and says: "Hello, Jim, have I been asleep? Why didn't you stir me up?" "Goodness gracious, is dat you Huck? … No, you ain' dead! you's back agin, 'live en soun', jis de same ole Huck--de same ole Huck, thans to goodness!" "What's the matter with you, Jim? You been a drinking?" (96)
Both instances feature the kind of practical joking Huck had grown accustomed to in his adventures with Tom Sawyer in his own book, and the one previous. Thinking they would go over just as well when Jim was the target, or just the fact that Jim was the target, when he had been nothing but supportive and caring for Huck thus far, Huck displays a misunderstanding of not only the outcome of these pranks, but the mutual respect that Jim had assumed of their relationship. Huck's morality here, while childish, still demonstrates his lack of regard for Jim's feelings, which grows from not only being a child that likes to prank, but also the racial differences Huck perceives.
It's the aftermath of these pranks where the cracks in Huck's façade of imitating the social cues of the 1800's begin to peek through however. After the snake bite,
"Jim was laid up for four days and nights. Then the swelling was all gone and he was around again. I made up my mind I wouldn't ever take aholt of a snake-skin again with my hands, now that I see what had come of it. Jim said he reckoned I would believe him next time. … Well I was getting to feel that way myself." (63)
Huck not only takes into account Jim's physical state, which I must state would not have been a common thought, but also the emotional toll it took on their respect. Beyond the quoted, the pair then share a bond at staring at the moon over their left shoulder, despite how foolish Huck feels doing it.
In one last try to pull one over on Jim, Huck's attempt at convincing Jim he had been there on the raft the whole time they were separated by a dense fog, ends with a conversation between Jim and Huck, where Jim dresses him down, calling him "trash" for his actions. It's clear Jim thought Huck had died, and Huck's nonchalance is too much to bear. Jim leaves Huck on that note to spend time alone, and Huck tells us:
"But that was enough. It made me feel so mean I could almost kissed his foot to get him back. It was fifteen minutes before I could work myself up to go and humble myself to [Jim]--but I done it, and I warn't ever sorry for it afterwards, neither. I didn't do him no more mean tricks, and I wouldn't done that one if I'd a knowed it would make him feel that way." (98)
In other words, even though Huck is still seeing Jim as not much than a slave, there is something within him that is changing and telling him that these actions are morally in the wrong. Not just because they are ill-natured pranks, but because his attitude towards Jim, a friend by this point, and a confidant not too much later, is not the same the relationship he has been shown and taught that a white person should have with a black person.
All of this context is to set up the moral climax of Twain's novel, because I felt these pranks were a clear and concise example of the behavior Twain was seeking to single out. Much later, Jim is sold by a pair of con-artists he and Jim had traveled with, and Huck in a panic tries to figure out a solution. The contemporary thing to do might have been to leave Jim to that stroke of bad luck and continue on his journey alone. The contemporary morally strong thing to do would be to write a letter to Miss Watson, and send Jim back to the slave owner who he originally escaped from, with Huck stating,
"I would do the right thing and the clean thing, and go and write to [Jim's] owner and tell where he was." (227)
But even that in Huck's mind is a sin, because he knows it's a lie. The lie being that Jim, a man who has shown compassion to Huck throughout this adventure and dreams of a life with his wife and children, shouldn't be owned. The morality of Huck's time was not as thoughtful, but the growth within Huck has told him that is not a moral he wants to follow. And even though he knows he has to pray to God to find the answer, the answer he comes to is not one that he feels comfortable following through with. And so, he spots that letter he has written to Miss Watson, and in his own words,
"I took it up, and held it in mt hand. I was a trembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied it a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself: "All right, then, I'll go to hell"--and tore it up. ... I would take up wickedness again, which was my line, being brung up to it, and the other warn't. And for a starter, I would go to work and steal Jim out of slavery again." (228)
A deed which he would, thankfully, accomplish. But in that, what Huck considered, moral failing, Twain institutes a line of questioning on if those morals that Huck, and by connection the people of Twain's time, had, should be held as highly as they did. Twain questioned the legitimacy of racial superiority as a moral standard through the genuine connection of two escaping characters trying to find a new home.
-SM
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With great pride and lots of pain do I bring to you... Febuwhump day 1: alt 6, Limp, with Coulson and team
Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44655928/chapters/112344958 for master post, https://archiveofourown.org/works/44706922 for individual posts
Characters: Coulson, Ward, Fitzsimmons, Skye 
Prompt: Limp 
CW: Snake/snake bites, minor surgery and IV 
Everyone was panting, still in shock. The plane was still flying, the raft was blocking the hole in the side of the shift, and no one on their team was dead. A little beat up, sure, but not dead. Skye did a survey of the room: Ward was panting, leaning against the raft. He looked exhausted and a mess, but he was okay. Coulson was standing over a soldier he had just knocked out, his expression sad. But he was okay. The plane righted itself and stayed at a level altitude, meaning May was okay. Fitz and Simmons hefted themselves up over the hallway barrier, ruffled but also okay. Skye got up and walked over to Ward, offering him a hand up as the lights flickered. They looked about, but they steadied again. “I read the safety pamphlet,” Skye said dryly. “I think you might be the first,” Ward responded, wincing slightly. They gathered around the bar, all out of breath. “No other way in or out, huh,” Coulson remarked, picking up a glass and setting it on the counter. “I was just starting to warm up to this place.” Skye chuckled and grabbed a coaster, putting it down and deftly placing the glass on top of it. “The 084 is cooling and stable,” Fitz said, still hugging the post. “But we should call HQ and get it to the Slingshot as soon as possible.” Coulson nodded and stepped away, limping. “We should get everyone patched up,” Simmons said, nodding at Coulson. “I’ll go get things.” Coulson made his way to the Comandante. “Told you they were good,” he smiled. “You forgot something,” she whispered back. She looked at his foot, which he barely was resting on the ground. Skye leaned over, watching them. “Uh, guys? What’s up with Coulson’s foot?” “Nothing,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m fine. Go patch each other up, I’ll be there in a minute.” “You don’t want them to know,” Reyes smiled. “Fine. I’ll wait.” “Sir, she’s secure, let’s get you checked out,” Skye said, walking deftly over and taking him by the arm. She turned him away, hitting a button to close Reyes in the room. They started walking to the lab, but it became increasingly apparent that something was wrong. Coulson leaned heavily on Skye, barely putting weight on his left foot. His breathing became laboured. “Sir? Talk to me, what’s going on?” “My leg…” he mumbled. “Yeah, figured that much,” she muttered. “WARD! Help me get him down the stairs, please.” Ward stuck his head out from the lab, Simmons following him with a compression pack. He saw Skye basically holding Coulson up and ran up the stairs. “Don’t aggravate your wound!” Simmons scolded, but he immediately disregarded her and picked up Coulson like a baby. “Fitzsimmons, something’s really wrong, he’s not breathing right,” Ward said, carrying him back down the stairs and placing him on the table like a child. “Sir, what’s going on?” “He said something about his leg, he could barely walk on it,” Skye put in, close behind. Coulson looked around at them, squinting. He blinked hard. “I think I died in a past life,” he mumbled slowly. He proceeded to collapse onto the table. “Crap,” Simmons whispered, jumping to check his heart. “Fitz, get the oxygen tank and a nose cannula while I figure this- oh my god.” She had pulled up the pant leg to reveal two small holes on his leg, seeping yellow. The area around it was tender and swollen, but more than that, his foot was greying. “Snake bite,” Ward said gravely. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” Skye said, moving around the table. “Simmons, tell us what we can do to help.” She had already grabbed a pair of scissors and was cutting away the leg of his pant. “Ward, get an oximeter on his finger, Skye, there’s a box in the shelf labelled ‘exercise equipment,’ grab an exercise band and a stick of a sort, we need to lessen the blood flow to his leg.” They did as she said, sweating. Fitz came back with a can of oxygen and placed the cannula under his nose. Simmons elevated his leg, and cleaned the immediate area, gently dabbing inside the snake bite with a q-tip. She handed it to Fitz, telling him to identify the poison. She told Skye to go tell May. As Fitz tried to identify the venom, Simmons walked Ward through putting in an IV while she dug around the medical draws. “Who flies the most well stocked plane to Peru without extensive supplies of snake antivenom?!” she cried, sifting through bags upon bags with different labels. “Ward, how’s the IV coming?” “It’s in, I put the fluids on it,” he remarked, stoic. “Good how’s his pulse?” “Uh… it says 30?” he said, reading off the display. “Shit,” she whispered again, abandoning the search for antivenom. “Fitz, any detections?” “No, it must not be updated with South American venoms,” he said, wringing his hands. “What sort of system doesn’t have the most poisonous snake venoms in it!” “Look for similar venoms, then,” she ordered. “Oh, I don’t want to have to cut off his foot.” May and Skye ran back down the stairs, May’s face showing some semblance of fear. “What happened?” May demanded. “Snake bite, see if we can get to a hospital nearby, and let HQ know,” Simmons ordered. “It says its similar to a ‘golden lancehead’ venom,” Fitz called to her. “Oh, of course, why didn’t I think of that earlier!” she muttered to herself. “Skye, go back through those antivenoms, there should be several labelled ‘bothrops insularis.’” Simmons walked over to Coulson’s other side, preparing to set in another tap. “May, go!” May looked at Coulson, almost fearfully, then angrily. “Save him.” She turned and ran back up the stairs. “What was that about?” Skye whispered as she dug through the bags, but nobody gave her question any thought. There were more important things at hand. “Here, found it! I think, whose handwriting is that?” “I didn’t think anyone else would have to read it,” Fitz groaned, taking it and hooking it up to another IV port. “Simmons, you ready?” “The ports in,” she responded, turning the pincher and letting the antivenom flow. She exhaled heavily. “There. That will prevent him from dying, but I don’t know about his leg…” They all breathed out a huge sigh. Simmons looked at his leg again, and took a small syringe and injected some local antibiotics. She probed it, grabbing her magnifying specs, and looked inside. “Dammit,” she whispered. “What? What is it?” Skye asked, looking up from the floor where she sat. “Simmons?” “There are fangs inside his leg. I need to get them out.” “What can we do?” Ward asked immediately. “I’ve never done venomous fangs, I’ve done plenty of bullets though.” “They’re very different, if you shatter the fangs he’ll lose his leg for sure,” she explained, pulling a tarp over the rest of his leg. “No, I’ll do this myself, but Ward, go update May, and Skye, in case this is too different from the insularis, I need you to try to code the computer to include the lesser known snakes of Peru. Fitz, help me get everything.” Ward sighed and ran back up the stairs while Skye sat down at the computer. She immediately started tapping away, staring at the screen intently. Fitz brought Simmons a kit labelled ‘removal surgery kit.’ She opened it, then washed her hands again. “Didn’t you just wash your hands?” Skye asked her. “You can never wash your hands enough,” Simmons responded. “Fair enough.” Simmons dried off her hands and checked Coulson’s vitals. He was steady. She covered more of his leg, and injected a local anaesthesia. “Fitz, keep an eye on his vitals. In the off chance he wakes up, you need to explain what’s happening or else he’ll move to violently,” she instructed, belting down his thigh. “He’s all set.” Simmons washed her hands again, pulled on a pair of gloves, put on a doctor’s mask, and picked up a scalpel. She took a deep breath, and began to operate.
An hour later, Coulson had eight more stitches in his leg, four for each hole. Simmons had placed the fangs in a small container, and it was sitting on the desk. They had moved Coulson to his bed, still on an IV and cannula. May was watching him, and had promised to let them know the moment there was any update. Skye had finished adding all known snakes to the programme, and had requested a data transfer from HQ with the extensive list of venom types. Ward was sitting in the living area, reading a novel, but he had been on the same page for almost half an hour. Simmons was reorganising the surgery equipment, and had filed a request for all known antibiotics for once they landed at HQ. Fitz was watching her, leaning back in the chair. “Simmons, that’s enough,” Fitz finalky said, standing up and walking over to her. “It’s plenty organised by now. You don’t need to keep working at it.” “No, Fitz, it’s not enough,” she cried, standing up and facing him, arms spread wide. “What if we hadn’t been able to find the right antivenom? What if we hadn’t been able to get the fangs out? The. Cookson could be dead and it would have been this bloody systems fault!” Fitz paused, looking at her. He sighed heavily, then closed the gap between them, hugging her. “But he didn’t. He’s fine. You saved him - because you’re amazing,” he whispered. “Oh, Fitz,” she sighed, leaning into his hug. A tear escaped. “I’m just so worried.” “Hey, don’t be,” he said, looking at her. “Look, we’ll be landing soon, let’s go get you some tea. I’ll make it just how you like it.” Fitz took her hand and lead her up the stairs, passing the room where Coulson slept and May kept guard, passing where Grant was doodling on a paper, passing where Skye had made her nest and she coded. And Simmons smiles. Because they were safe.
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portablecity · 2 years
Text
Warp Riders!
Chapter 19
Wind whistled across the cave mouth, sending a deeper hum around the cavern. The Captain tried bending her injured knee again, gently, and it felt fine, totally fine and then– “Fuck!”
“Captain! What are you doing down there?”
She breathed slowly through her nose until the pain spike passed. 
“I’ve fucked up my knee. It’s fine.” Well. “I mean it’s not fine, but it’s… I’m fine. They’re sending a splint, right?”
“Splint, boat, rope, more rope – anything else?”
“Wouldn’t mind a stiff drink and a beach umbrella, actually.”
A snort was just audible, echoing down into the cavern. And then silence once more. The Captain focused on massaging her knee, which had swollen up enough her pant leg was tight around it.
They had enough medical supplies on the ship itself that she wasn’t worried long term about it; short of a full break, they could handle most things in the field. She’d be off it for a few days, but that was fine. She could supervise; no more research trips, stick to repairs.
It did hurt like a bitch, though. Maybe shock had worn off? She was shivering a bit still; maybe it hadn’t quite passed. How long a trip was it back to camp if you were jogging? How fast could the Stowaway run for supplies – and how heavy was the inflatable raft?
The logistics of her own rescue were fascinating, and the Captain was deep in thought about how best to optimize the immediate circumstances when the Navigatrix mumbled something down the tunnel.
“You what?”
“I said it’s – it’s very peaceful on this moon.”
“Besides my peril?”
No response to that, of course.
“No, no, it’s a very peaceful sort of spelunking disaster, my mistake.”
Quiet. Then.
“Captain,” almost too quiet to hear, down the tunnel and into the cavern, “do you miss Lucy?”
Oh, no. No no no. Not now. “Don’t do this, Navigatrix.”
“It’s just, I thought I missed her before, but now we’re here – I just, I really feel it, her absence.”
The Captain flopped back onto her back in frustration. Why NOW. “We all miss her, for sure, but, it’s been a long time–”
“Well, now, no. It actually has been almost no time at all–”
“–that’s not what I mean, you pedantic–”
“I think we’ve had maybe a month of linear time–”
“She’s gone! She’s gone, and we all had that meeting about it, and why are you bringing her up now?”
Wind whistled.
“I just keep thinking that she would have gotten a kick out of all this.”
“She made it clear she didn’t enjoy any of this when she LEFT US.”
“Captain, are you still this mad at her?”
The Captain was overwhelmed by frustration with the Navigatrix; so much, her eyes pricked and she had to blink and blink and whisper “fuck” under her breath a few times.
“I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.”
“Are you sad?”
“Disappointed!”
It was amazing, how audible the Navigatrix’s skeptical silence was down in the cave. The Captain rubbed her face, extremely furious.
“Captain – I’m not going to tell you what to do, but you’re allowed, if you like, to miss your little sister.”
“She doesn’t deserve to be missed.”
Well, that came out of her own mouth, didn’t it. Might as well dig this pit even deeper. “She’s the one who abandoned us! We were a crew. We had a job to do!”
“We all know we’re only doing them for fun now, Captain.”
“They’re still jobs!”
“Well, don’t you ever think about retiring?”
“What?!” Why was she bringing this up? “No! Why! Are you planning to leave me too?” The Captain cringed to herself as her voice cracked. “Because just – just tell me and fuck off so I can find another navigator.”
That got a snort.
“I might be the least likely of this crew to do such a thing, Captain.”
It sounded like a joke, but the Captain heard some of that gentleness in her voice that so often pissed her off. She must be out of adrenaline, because she had to admit she almost felt comforted.
No need to say it aloud, though.
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amandajeanwrites · 2 years
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In the Writer's Studio: April 2022
The wind’s changed. Dreary cold has been swapped for watering can sprinkles and anime daffodils. The birds have migrated back to their perches. The bees thunk mercilessly at the window panes, taunting the dog. With spring comes abundance, renewal, the promise of longer days and baby lambs.
My writer’s studio is gathering dust. The metaphorical studio, the mind studio. My actual studio, an aforetold dining table and adjoining chest of drawers, did get a declutter and reorganization a week or two ago. But the writer’s studio in my mind palace, that wood clad timber attic room looking over the ocean on one side and the forest on the other, with amble desk space and a collage of inspiration along each wall, that hasn’t been touched in a while. 
I’m not sure what prompted it, the Block. That great Block which all writers fear most (and some deny). But it came like the moody clouds that I welcome in the winter skies. It settled into the pit of me, this despair, this unsure footing. Each word I typed was worse than the last until it became a downward spiral of self-doubt and crippling anxiety. The Block came and then the Depression and then the Anger, or perhaps they were all rolled into one, a product of bad brain chemicals fueled by caffeine and social media. And the trauma that has been the Last Two Years.
January was relatively sound. A new writing planner brought forth inspiration in the form of shiny stickers and a barrage of New Year-New Me thrills. I continued slogging through my Dark Academia Ghost Story until somehow I got stuck in the mud I’d dredged, and after years of doing this, instead of calling for help, I think I just dug myself deeper. Knee deep, waist deep, until February came along in a wash of colder rain and less inspiration. 
Not less, just different. In February I’d managed a handful of 5k+ days. Inspiration struck, thank God!, and I powered through a handful of fan fiction short stories that I’m rather proud of. Those flew out of me like some life-force tucked itself under my fingertips and did the work for me. I hadn’t felt that in years.
But again, the Block swept me away again.
March was rough. March was a deluge instead of a mud pit. It was rapid waters with no boulders or sticks to grab onto. It was panic. It was grasping desperately for an idea, anything to come along that I could build a raft out of. And March dumped me into the ocean where I could tread water on short stories and the residual praise from short stories of long, long ago. 
I tread through the beginning of April, exhausted, needing a change. A change of pace, of scenery. I think being in the ocean made me realize just how little my life had changed in the past few years. It was a constant deluge of ideas followed by a drowning of overwhelm, followed by the disappointment of unfinished projects. I felt I was letting my friends and family down. I’d isolated myself to an island and burnt my boat. I needed something new. 
And then, as my head was beginning to submerge, a lifeline came. An idea. A buoy.
I’ve always loved film. If you’ve known me for any amount of time, years, a conversation in a coffee shop, I think you’ll recognize that about me. If I’m not quoting a movie, I’m asking you what your favorite are (and judging accordingly). If I’m not referencing a television show, I’m equating our conversation to a scene in my head. Movies have always been my life, my second love only to writing. Well, probably my first love, but movies are way harder work.
So after a particularly difficult day treading water, I talked to Sean and my Mom, and they suggested I search for freelance writing gigs. If something is going to get me out of my funk, it may be writing for others. I’ve searched before, several times over the years, and have always quit due to overwhelm, but it couldn’t hurt to try again. 
So I decided, this time, to whittle my options. I began searching for freelance writing gigs in topics I’m passionate about. Writing, obviously, and film. If you’ve been on the blog, or following my work for a while, you’ll know I absolutely love writing film and television reviews. It’s the perfect way to articulate how I’m feeling after I’ve finished watching something I enjoyed (or didn’t! Yikes!). And after a few days of searching, I found some options. I found my buoy. 
My course is changing, like the winds. Like winter to spring, I feel a new life breathed into my lungs. The birds have come back to me. The life-force has returned beneath my fingertips, and I’ve found myself writing again. I’ve found myself joyful again, the sun shining on my face, drying my hair and hands. 
I’ve dusted out my studio and thunked a stack of DVDs on the desk top. I’m writing reviews again, and feature articles, and my career path has changed, I think for the better. 
For those of you wondering, I am still writing fiction. I’m still experimenting with short stories and micro fiction. Every day, I’m finding myself thinking of the main characters in my novels, itching to write their stories again. Itching to get back to work. This new venture is just exciting me again, rejuvenating all that I’ve lost over the past couple of years, filling me with freedom and adventure and self-worth. All it took was a change of perspective. 
As for this space, and my YouTube channel, I want to continue to document my writing. I want to write about writing, because I love to do it and I love to talk about it.
The world has opened up again, and I want to write in my places. I want to see more things. I want to write about more adventures. 
So keep an eye on this space, is what I’m offering. Come back here to see how my writing’s going, to talk about writing, to be inspired to take little retreats and adventures for your own writing, or just for your own self care. Be with me. Float with me. 
Thanks, as always, for reading xo 
Tldr; I write movie reviews now. (@amandawatchesmovies)
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4:18 pm
Tumblr media
me, circa 2009 or 2010 with lipgloss on my eyelids, braces (which i later broke at age ten bc the intrusive thoughts won and i gave into a bag of extra tough beef jerky), my short, damaged hair, a key necklace mimicking the one that zoey from zoey 101 wore, and a beanie (i became obsessed with these and the obsession did not subside for a very long time) in my bedroom lol
*
currently listening to: better with you by virginia to vegas
okay
so i seriously need to do my work lol i have so much to do
but whatever
anyway, this one girl in my writing class wrote about growing up in alaska and it made me think about when i was younger. even though the story i wrote was set in south carolina and covers a lot of the trauma i experienced there, south carolina and hawaii were the states i remember being the happiest in
truthfully im happy wherever i am
but my memories there are so vivid and colorful and i think about going back to hawaii to raise my kids often. my only rule for myself is that if i move back to hawaii, i have to do it with the intention of going there to not be a blight on the native population there. i want to give back to the community in a meaningful way and earn my place there rather than be there because it's "paradise" or something.
so i grew up in oahu, and i was there between eight years old and ten years old. it's not very long, but they were happy years. i mean, granted, i was going through some of the worst trauma in my life. but of all the places to experience trauma, i think i'd rather experience it in hawaii over anywhere in the south lol like at least i can go to the beach after
but anyway, here are the things i remember about hawaii
i remember how soft my hair would be after a day spent in the water, and how much better i slept. i used to lie in the water with my eyes closed, asleep on a raft. i almost drowned like this several times by the way, but not the point. i did this because when i slept on the water, the sway of the ocean would stick with me for days afterward, even in my own bed. i could just close my eyes and picture the water, and just feel myself swaying with the waves but it only worked after i went to the beach. it remains one of the fastest ways for me to fall asleep.
i remember driving up in this mountain area and the roads were so steep. i remember looking over the edge and seeing hundreds of palm trees, and feeling so small in the best way. i remember seeing this little spot where you could wade into the water, and wondering if that was someone's comfort spot.
i remember going to a taro farm and eating fresh taro. it smelled like french toast but tasted like straight ASS. but then, you put it into a cake, or something, and it's like the most delicious thing in the world. i crave it randomly, and i miss that gross mushy taste of it when it's fresh and uncooked but crushed up.
i remember golden hour on the beach, and drawing with my mom by the sea.
i remember running around my school after hours and hiding in the sewers with my best friend
i remember that school was outside. like the halls were and it was the best
i remember when i was sad at night i'd sneak out of my house and climb on top of the garage and just stare up at the stars
i remember seeing sharks up close
i remember my teacher hopelessly trying to teach my hawaiian and reading a picture book about princess kaʻiulani, and going to the palace, and learning about the history of hawaii
i remember eating freshly made spam musubi in the morning when it was just getting light out and just relaxing entirely as soon as the sweet and tangy taste of the spam hit my tongue
i remember the cotton candy walls of my childhood bedroom (pink and blue)
i remember the rainbows i'd see every day, and all the rain and the fact that it was always a nice cool day. never anything else
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loveyourownsmiilee · 2 years
Note
JUJU MY BELOVED ❤❤❤
1, 12, 28, 61, and 62 :D
KJ MY LOVEEE 💜 💜
1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?
So like fun fact about me is that I actually collect coffee mugs lol. Like I have a ridiculous amount too so I'm sticking with that.
12. name of your favorite playlist?
My fave playlist is the one I made called Achey Breaky Heart Lmaoooo. It is all my "in my feelings" songs that I listen to fairly often and like only sometimes cry. 10/10 would recommend haha.
28. five songs to describe you?
Hmmm omg like why is this so difficult? So I asked my 2 sisters for some help and this is what they said hahaha:
Glamorous by Fergie 😂 I like to be glam I guess.
Broken by lovelytheband. I mean yeah I guess, but aren't we all a little broken? 😞
Insomnia by Daya bc I legit have insomnia and it does describe my life at the moment. The lyrics I mean lol.
No Judgement by Niall Horan. I am the least judgmental person tbh. I am very accepting of most people and things.
Young & Beautiful by Lana Del Rey. I can't have this list be alll self depreciating things ya know? lmao
61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?
Honestly the only thing I can think about right now is, "A few choice words can sometimes be the life raft that gets you home. To be seen, to be found...Isn't that what we're all searching for?" 😭 Like idk this has stayed with me since the first time I heard it and it like really resonated with me back then and even now. I just am a sucker for words and I hope to find someone who's choice words will be my life raft I guess.
62. seven characters you relate to?
Evan Buckley (9-1-1)-I've always related to him since the beginning. Not just with my personality but the struggles he has gone through in his life hit close to my own struggles. Hence why I adore him so so much.
Jess Day (New Girl)-I am sooo much like her irl, so I have been told lol. I am bubbly and loud and outgoing. I get this a lot and I relate to her a lot too.
Blair Waldorf (Gossip Girl)-solely for her fashion sense and her attitude at times lol.
Cher (Clueless)-once more the fashion sense and I feel like I have her valley girl accent lmao
I truly cannot think of anyone else atm. Like my mind is drawing a blank babe so this will have to do! Thanks for asking 💜
Weird asks that say a lot
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lol that feeling when you’re the only one that ships that random rarepair and you get to create the shipname
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