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burningvelvet · 3 months

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on percy shelley & human connection & coping through art

to set the mood of this post i must say i'm writing it really quickly on my phone over a bowl of pasta with bread & broccoli & some orange flavored sparkling water & im still dressed in my outdoor wintery clothes (all black, knee boots, wool, silver chains & rings, although i mostly prefer gold jewelry).

so anyway today i've been kind of sad over ppl not replying to my texts & my usual reaction is to say "ok, guess i'll kms, wah wah, cry cry" but this sort of passively cynical joking schtick has gotten old & i would rather occupy myself some other way instead of moping about failed connections or the difficulty of initiating contact with anyone or the struggles of modern socialization as a whole.

instead, i will read the works of percy shelley tonight, and think about how he struggled with all of this over 200 yrs ago. of how hard he struggled to make leigh hunt and lord byron collaborate with him on their journal the liberal, and how he struggled all his life to build a positive community even in spite of years of bullying, ostracization, and family strife - he often felt like giving up, and like human connection was impossible, but he never gave in to apathy and instead he continuously curated his ideal life by seeking out other like-minded people, even when he occasionally embarrassed himself in public or when others were decidely averse to him or lukewarm in their reception. john keats didn't entirely take to him when they met and some of keats' friends straight-up disliked percy for being weird, but percy (though scarcely knowing him) loved keats as a brother-poet nonetheless, was generous to him, wrote one of his masterpieces in his favor, and died with a copy of his poems in his pocket.

percy always reached out to others and was a loyal friend even when others disrespected him or ignored him or just simply didnt love him as much as he did them. his letters to lord byron show how reverent he was to his friend, and how his affection was never returned in quite the same gusto, but, while still trying to keep his self-respect, percy quelled his frustrations and continued his correspondence with byron regardless. percy acted as the mediator between byron and claire even when his stress was so high it weighed heavily on his health. he actively tried to choose to be positive even when the people around him were negative or miserable. like most writers back then, he sent his writing to his idols, and sought mentorship from people he admired, like william godwin and leigh hunt, and he continued to respect them even when they took advantage of him financially (moreso in godwin's case).

anyway what i mean to say is that whenever im feeling lonely or rejected or alienated or socially stupid or am just second-guessing my role in society or whatever whatever whatever, i cling to creativity/art/literature/etc. even harder than i regularly do, because thats what it exists for.

i knew a therapist (not one i saw as a patient, but someone i knew through mutual interests in media/the arts) who said that a certain musical performance we both loved probably saved way more lives than any single therapist ever has. - the performance in question was david bowie's tokyo 1990 live recording of rock n roll suicide, an anti-suicide song (its available on youtube, go watch it lol, he performs it with so much conviction).

any way even though at the end of his life shelley sometimes felt like he was failing to achieve his dream of building a utopian art commune - he actually did succeed in introducing several people to each other in ways that changed peoples lives. his friends jane williams and thomas jefferson hogg got married only through his mutual friendship. whole literary societies have been started in his honor - to this day there are conferences & whatnot that meet annually - his life & writing continues to inspire people and bring them comfort - & he would be extremely proud of that - any artist would. the main goal of any famous dead writer is basically to become the imaginary friend of their future readers & he accomplished that - even though all the time he was wracked with doubt/depression/suicidality/illness/chronic pain, etc. - as a political/philosophical radical, he realized that having hope is one of the most influential & radical things one can do - & i'm glad that, even though this is a person who died over 200 yrs ago, there is at least one person who really resonates with me - even though we're from different centuries, different continents, different sexes, etc. - it's helpful to have positive influences to look up to, especially when they've also struggled in similar ways as you. and although shelley was pretty privileged (rich englishman) he really did struggle a lot mentally & physically - his life was a chaotic mess - and he wasn't perfect at all - but i think he's still inspirational for my previously mentioned reasons - his ceaseless hope. the last poem he was working on was titled the triumph of life, even though he wrote it during a deep depression. the last poem he published in his lifetime was hellas, which he hoped would raise money for the cause of greek war of independence. from the poem:

"Life may change, but it may fly not;

Hope may vanish, but can die not;

Truth be veiled, but still it burneth;

Love repulsed, — but it returneth!"

#percy bysshe shelley #percy shelley #me #?#ramblings #my writing #art #literature #socializing #thoughts #hopepunk #that was shelley #tw suicide mention #opinions #essays #poetry #social anxiety

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clickerflight · 5 months

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Clove: Part 13 - Play?

GUESS WHO'S BACK! IT'S THE BOIIII!!! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist.

Masterlist

Part 12

Content: Werewolf whumpee, fear, ignorant comments about his scars, mentions of past abuse

...............................................

Ephraim had to leave to help make the house safe again.

Hyrum knew he was safe, he knew Ephraim would be back, he had his bird toy and he was full, huddled under the blankets as snug as a hibernating creature…. but every new sound scared him. A subtle creak of the house settling had him clutching the blanket and toy closer, his heart pounding. He just wanted to be home. In Ephraim’s house.

He pressed his face into the pillow, taking a deep breath to fill his nose with Ephraim’s scent. It was like warm raspberries picked right off the cane, undertones of bread and flowers firmly carrying home the feeling of safety.

He slowly relaxed again and got more comfortable, pulling his toy out of the blankets to get a better look at it, running a finger over the carved features of the bird, ears twitching as the ball rolled around gently inside of it.

He sighed and tried to relax, closing his eyes again.

That went away when he heard footsteps and voices and the front door opened. He sat up quickly, the scents of the werewolf children from the trip to see the merchant reaching his nose.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be in here,” said one voice, which Hyrum completely agreed with as he slipped out of the bed on the opposite side from the doorway.

“Oh, stop being such a pansy.”

Hyrum silently dropped down and wiggled under the bed, cupping his hands over his face to muffle his breathing as he heard the two sets of footsteps come down the hall, stopping at the door. He closed his eyes as it creaked open.

“Is he in the bed?” the younger sounding voice asked.

The older one approached and Hyrum flinched as he patted the bed.

“No, doesn’t look like it.”

“Is he still in here?”

“Course he is. Can’t you smell him?”

Hyrum opened his eyes in time to see knees contact the floor and a face peering under the bed, right at him.

“Aha!” the grey haired werewolf said, tail sweeping the floor. “There he is!”

Hyrum scrambled back out without thinking, getting to his feet and backing up quickly enough that he banged rather loudly into the wall, hands searching the blank space behind him as his tail tucked itself between his legs and he ducked his head to protect his throat.

The other wolf, a younger kid with darker hair, though not quite black, stared at him while the older came around the bed, slowly and steadily, like he was stalking Hyrum.

Hyrum felt his heart beating faster, and he whimpered as the wolf took another step towards him.

The wolf froze, head cocked to the side for a moment. He took another step and Hyrum started seeing spots from how quickly he was breathing, none of the air actually making it anywhere.

The wolf froze in place, halfway through another step. He backed up a bit until Hyrum felt like he could breathe again, still shaking like an aspen leaf and gasping for air, tears escaping down his cheeks.

“What’s wrong with him?” the younger one asked.

“I don’t know,” said the elder. “Here, back out of the room. Maybe he’ll be less scared with just one of us.”

The younger wolf pouted, but did as he was told.

Hyrum did not feel any better, pinned down under the gaze of the older wolf. Was he older? He looked older. He was bigger than Hyrum, with broader shoulders and shinier teeth and flesh on his bones. He would be a real weapon.

Not that it mattered. Hyrum wasn’t even supposed to be a weapon anyways, apparently.

“You’re Goldenrod, yeah?”

Hyrum relaxed a little upon hearing the nickname and nodded faintly.

“I’m Isaac.”

Hyrum watched nervously, not certain of what the other wolf wanted. Isaac seemed to be waiting for something before looking around a little, confused.

He looked back and asked, “What are you so scared of?”

Hyrum didn’t know how to answer. Wasn’t it obvious? There was a bigger, tougher wolf in the room, blocking his exit after breaking into the house he and Ephraim had been staying at. How was that not terrifying?

Isaac stared at him for a long time before taking a slow step forward and all of Hyrum’s muscles which had relaxed even the slightest were tight again, sweat breaking out down his back.

Still, Isaac didn’t stop until he was a few steps away, leaning closer. Hyrum could hear him sniffing, could see he was open and relaxed.

“Wh… What do you want?” Hyrum whispered hoarsely, terrified.

Isaac leaned back again and frowned. “I haven’t seen another werewolf in a while that’s not from my family. I just wanted to see what your deal was.”

Hyrum didn’t know what that was supposed to mean and didn’t respond, which, to his horror, seemed to frustrate the other wolf.

“I mean, what is your deal? Mum said there was an intruder in the village and Ephraim has been staying here and you haven’t even left this house once! Don’t you want to go outside? Don’t you want to see other pups and play?”

Hyrum shivered. Being in the sun sounded nice. It always did. But playing with pups? Isaac talked about it like it was a normal thing. And Ephraim was expecting him to be here when he got back. What if he went outside and Ephraim thought he’d been taken? Just the thought of Ephraim worrying over it for even a moment freaked Hyrum out. And what if he did get taken?

“‘M scared,” Hyrum said softly, head tucked in still. He was afraid that Isaac wouldn’t like his answer and would lash out at him and hurt him. Jack always did.

“Why? We’re not going anywhere crazy. Me and my sibs are playing out in Mrs. Julien’s yard. It’s basically across the road from here.”

Hyrum was beginning to consider the idea, if only because he loved the feeling of sun on his skin. Isaac seemed genuine as well.

After a long moment he nodded. “Okay… and I can come back here whenever I want, right?”

“Right,” Isaac said, impatient now. “You should bring your toy. It’s almost Angie’s turn to play and she always wants to play house or rescue the princess or sacrifices to the demon lord. Come on!”

Isaac left, leaving no context for what he’d just said, but Hyrum carefully scooped up his bird and left the comfortable room. He saw the two wolves go out the front door, talking to one another. He passed the table in the front room, giving it a wide berth as feelings of panic and fear stirred around him, as though he’d left them under there when he had been hiding there a few nights before.

He very slowly stepped out of the house and onto the front porch, the wood rough under his bare feet and the sun like a blessing on his skin.

He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of it in his curls. His curls! He’d never had curly hair before. Ephraim had told him that now he was getting more food and sleep and he wasn’t covered in mange, he was getting his ‘real hair’ in. Hyrum didn’t fully understand it, but he was glad for it as a sign of being taken care of and fed.

He stepped down onto the dirt path and quickly crossed the road, smooth rocks poking up through the dirt and pebbles here and there.

He got to the other side and hesitated on the edge of a yard of soft grasses and small wildflowers, four wolves gathered together in the center of the yard where another brother and a sister had been waiting.

Isaac waved him over and he approached carefully.

“This is Goldenrod,” Isaac said, and the girl nodded, eyeing Hyrum’s toy a little bit, making him clutch it a little tighter. “Goldenrod, this is my brother Simon, you’ve met Lionel, and this is Angie.” Lionel was the wolf who had come to the house with Isaac, it seemed. Simon and Angie both had black hair and fur and Simon nodded, a little intrigued, though it was Angie who spoke first.

“What’s wrong with your face?” she asked, tilting her head.

Hyrum felt a swoop of… what was that feeling? Like he was anxious, but in an entirely different way. He didn’t realize that the way Isaac had talked to him had given him a new idea. One of being accepted by more than just Ephraim, and now he felt like that was dashed. Destroyed by Jack because of the scars on his face.

He could feel his eyes watering and he looked down quickly, glad for his curly hair for another reason now.

“Hey! Be nice, Angie,” Isaac barked. “Seriously, mum taught you manners! I was there for it!”

Angie huffed. “I just wanted to know,” she whined.

“It really isn’t nice,” Simon said in a quiet, slow tone.

“Oh, come on! Scars are cool!”

Cool? What could possibly be cool about the pain and starvation he went through? What was good about that written across his entire body? For no good reason? There was no reason for it. None of it. None of the silver or knives or ‘training’ or the initials in his arm. No reason for the burns or the broken fingers or the bleeding head wounds or the mange.

Hyrum turned to go back to the house, wrapping his arms tightly around his body causing the toy to be shoved harshly into his ribs.

“Wait!” Lionel said, running up and coming around to stand in front of Hyrum. He was shorter than Hyrum was, but he still looked stronger. He looked up into Hyrum’s face earnestly and said, “Please can you stay? We can make her go home! We want to play with you!”

“Hey! You can’t make me go home!”

“We will if you don’t apologize,” Isaac nodded and Simon added, “A real apology, Angie.”

She huffed at both of them but she came over, a rather worn doll in hand and she took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Goldenrod. I shouldn’t have asked about your scars and I won’t ask again. Will you play with us?”

Hyrum was puzzled by her tone. It was strange but he didn’t recognize it enough to put a finger on it. Still, hesitant and feeling a little bit pressure from their eyes all on him, he nodded.

They all seemed very excited and had him kneel in the grass to play where he lived the strangest hour of his life giving a personality to his bird toy and helping rescue a princess from a demon who wanted to play house with her.

Part 14

Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff @honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10

#werewolf whumpee #scars #mentioned abuse #anxiety #fear #boi is socializing!#look at him!#he's so freaked out about it!#there are going to be consequences for playing in the sun for too long when he isn't used to it

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void-tiger · 1 year

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The concept of prophetic visions and dreams in The Sandman universe is objectively hilarious when you realize it automatically involves Destiny, Dream, and Delirium, and Destiny being absolutely fed up with his younger siblings messing with his domain.

…which is probably why there are far more records of prophetic visions than prophetic dreams but the symbolism in visions is…incredibly trippy and often unsettling. But the earliest stories of either leans more in favor of prophetic dreams.

Dream doesn’t mess with his siblings domains lightly, and either asks permission, first, or has Lucienne keep a record of the tab owed to Destiny over this.

Delirium, however…

Yeah…she’s just that youngest sibling who messes with your stuff and as infuriated as you are with her it’s often as productive as shouting at a baby because she WILL cry and rip her hair out and never grasp why her actions upset you.

(so Dream gets the brunt of Destiny’s Ire. even when Desire Did It.)

#the sandman #destiny of the endless #delirium of the endless #dream of the endless #endless siblings #sidenote: desire’s briefly mentioned because of The Boat Incident in Overturr #poor dream is a classic middle child #and delirium is baby. (an annoying baby. but still baby.)#the REAL grumpy introvert is Destiny #I will forever argue that Dream is often trying to Act Like Destiny for Proper Endless Behavior #it never goes well. he is Dream. not Destiny. he actually hates being alone #(Dream’s…actually not a true introvert. he’s an ambivert that’s incredibly withdrawn and suffering from avoidant personality disorder #(as well as anxiety/depression and arguably adhd (not autism. death is much more autistic but social anyway))

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totaldramafan-lauri · 5 months

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Make Use Of Me (chapter 1, preview)

Dec. 7 EDIT: ONCE MORE, WITH BRAVERY THIS TIME. No more chickening out. You can read this thing FOR REAL now. Sorry for being weird, and now....sorry if this wasn't worth it. XD

O-OK...here goes....

First thing's first: I am not expecting a lotta people to read this. I'm not asking people to read this. At this point, I'm making this mostly as a passion project, and if anyone enjoys it, it'll be a really cool bonus. My writing style isn't gonna be for everyone, and the characters I write aren't the most....popular characters in the CRK X Reader community, and I imagine this isn't really something a lotta fans'll be demanding more of.

This is LONG. This one chapter is 56 pages long. I am a VERY wordy writer,

So......why'm I posting this preview? Well....partially as an interest gauge for people who WOULD wanna read it, but...mostly as a motivator. As something to remind myself of whenever I get lazy. After all....I can't quit after I made the first chapter public, right? By doing that, I put myself out there...And, hey, I even tagged it, so, if by the off chance, someone did read it, I'm basically promising them more eventually.....

But, again, I'm not forcing anyone to read this.

Not only is it long, but.....This first chapter is probably my least-favorite thing I've ever written. By posting this chapter by itself, I'm testing to see if it does its job of making people wanna read the rest, cuz....right now, I'm not so sure how well it succeeds at that.....

This is the boring part of the story. It's a bunch of setup, and me jumping through hoop after hoop after hoop to just get everything started. I know setup is important and all, but....I'm already a very wordy writer, so....oof....There is some interesting stuff that happens, but it takes a while to get there.

I-I....kinda hate it, actually. The only reason I didn't scrap it is that I didn't realize I hated it until I was about halfway through it and the "good part" hadn't started yet. And I still spent a month writing the thing, so....I finished it.

I'm tagging this...as an experiment. If you wanna read this, go ahead. W-well, read my tags first, THEN go ahead. XD

All I can really say in this chapter's defense is that....I do try my best to salvage it. It's just setup, but I TRIED to make it interesting. And everything that seems like it didn't go anywhere, will later. This isn't the whole story, it's just the beginning of what's gonna be a BIG story. Anything that seems weird in this chapter, gets explored in the other chapters. This does set up a bunch of stuff that becomes important later (The friend character shows up later, the Colosseum becomes relevant later). This chapter is boring, but I tried not to make any of it pointless.

For the future: I'm aiming for five chapters. Chapters 2 and 3 will be a series of smaller vignettes that take place over the course of a few years, chapter 4 will be the climax, and chapter 5 will be something of an epilogue. After that, there will be two endings to choose from (which will make sense when we get there).

This probably won't be my favorite thing I've ever written, but it will be the most ambitious thing I've ever, and probably will ever, write. I haven't written something like this before, and it's all to flesh out this story and make it believable.

Right now, I.....I want to finish this. I'll probably still be writing this in February at the rate I'm going, but...at this point, I've put too much into it to give up on it. However, I'm STILL not completely ruling out the idea of my motivation dying before then. It COULD happen. So, what I'm planning to do is...setting a short-term goal of finishing chapter 3. After I do that, I'll post the first three chapters on AO3 together, and work on the rest. That way, even if I don't finish it, I'll at least have it over half done, and chapter 3 will end on a somewhat high note.

So, yyyyeah....Not a lotta people will read this preview. Overly wordy writing style + boring setup part of story + 56 pages long + assumed lack of interest for X Readers of this character (At least, I haven't SEEN many simps for her, m-maybe I'm wrong, I might be, I-I haven't checked any tags cuz I've been nervous, b-but it doesn't make my writing any better. In that case, this is my first time writing her so I'm trying super hard to do her justice >//////<)

I-if you wanna read this, and see if this first chapter does a good job of making you wanna read the better chapters, then...Go ahead.....

Some notes:

-This is still not the final draft. It's finalized enough for me to share, but I'm still not considering it finished. Even tho I'm working on chapter 3 right now, I STILL go back and edit this, even very recently. So, chances are, even if the story is finalized, small details and sentences are still subject to change. I know for a fact that there are still SOME placeholder bits in here that will change after I get some stuff cleared up. Recently, I even considered chopping off an entire section to make it shorter. I decided not to, but hey, it could still happen. I don't wanna waste anyone's time. The first chapter of a story, even if it's boring, is still very important, and I wanna make sure it's the best version of itself.

(A-and yes, this means that I've finished chapter 2 as well. The reason I'm not sharing it is that, unlike chapter 1, it was finished VERY recently, so I might still need to give myself time to edit it. From what I have, tho, I do like it a LOT more than chapter 1. There are some parts of chapter 2 that I'm legit proud of.)

-Even tho this first chapter is completely clean, I-I should mention that....this fic is for adults. The full version, at least. Chapters 3 and 4 are gonna contain some light N/S/F/W moments (the "fade to black" variety, so nothing explicit) and there'll be other slightly racey comments here and there. Just a heads-up. I'm gonna be uncomfy with minors reading this.

Th-that's all? I-I think that's all.......O-OK, so......h-here goes..... E-enjoy....

#fics by lauri #fanfic preview #WARNING: UNFINISHED #THIS IS JUST THE FIRST CHAPTER #......AND ITS STILL A LONG READ #cookie run x reader #crk x reader #golden cheese cookie x reader #gender neutral reader #also contains a gender neutral 'friend' character you can do what you want with #basically i got inspired by that part in her bio that mentions how...#....shes always looking to add more loyal subjects #and it made me imagine the story of an outsider who gradually integrates into the kingdom and earns her approval #so its an underdog story basically #and there a LOT that the reader gets put through #reader is shy and socially awkward but can also be a bit more sarcastic than the other reader characters ive written #im aiming for a BIT more comedy than usual since its my first crk fic that doesnt take place in the humorless dark cacao kingdom XD #but yeah reader is a ball of anxiety #they get panic attacks later on #pre canon #VERY VERY VERY pre canon #takes place DECADES before canon #before um....the lost city became lost #its not virtual #no errors no avatars #just a technologically advanced city #power imbalance and god complex stuff all over the place cuz fghdhgfhdhfgh im weak for that part of her #also contains some themes of verbal abuse (from nameless characters toward reader)#and like i said it has some adult moments later on #contains a lot of time skips

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wren-kitchens · 18 days

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social anxiety can be so funny sometimes because i’ll be talking to someone and they’ll go offline for whatever reason and i’m always like ‘oh no did I say too much’ when I said probably one of the most average things i’ve ever said to that person

#me n my irls sharing Way too much and then i’ll go ‘omg that’s so cool’ and worry if i’m too forward #the irony is that I keep forgetting i’m having a conversation and accidentally leave the conversation for like half an hour and come back #way later for another unrelated reason and only then will I remember #i’m a huge hypocrite and I am aware of this #regardless #wren wrambles #social anxiety #does this count as a vent #I don’t think so cause i’m mostly just laughing at myself here HKFHD #this is queued btw #I do have a tag for that but a single q amongst all these tags would probably look accidental so I thought i’d mention it #q #see that looks like I misclicked #anyway

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selectivechaos · 6 months

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thoughts on support and the meaning of coping.

if hotlines don’t have a text service, i can’t access them. if support groups and drop-in centres ask you to email and introduce yourself first, i get anxious.

just because support is available, doesn’t mean it is accessible.

then again, sometimes when you’ve been in an area or institution with no support services, you just assume that, when you move elsewhere, there won’t be any available. don’t assume that; always look for help.

“support is available” and “i’m here if you need to talk” are Not empty phrases made to comfort you; they are true.

if you’re like me, you may get the feeling of “it’s not bad enough; i’m not actually struggling; i can’t articulate it so there must be nothing wrong; making a big deal out of nothing” kind of panicked thoughts right before accessing support. don’t listen! you deserve help, there is no ‘bad enough’. if it hurts you, then you deserve help because you don’t deserve to be in pain.

long post ⚠️

recently someone supporting me told me that i should seek help for a specific problem i have with studying in classroom settings (im a uni student), related to my social anxiety. i never had support in school, so it shocked me because classroom settings are everything and just the accepted organisational status quo in schools; they are seen as the brick and mortar of ‘teaching and learning’. i knew there was more freedom and flexibility in university, and that ‘support is available’. but i had always thought of ‘support’ in an individualised, neoliberal, medical-model way (ie. “we’re gonna fix you to fit with the system, and, if we can’t do that, we’ll just support you through crises as you’re tormented by something not made for you”). but actually the way this person phrased it was in terms of ‘Fairness’ and a ‘Level playing field’. they said “it’s not right for you to be feeling anxious and frozen in those learning spaces because it harms your studies, when everyone else is feeling comfortable and able to learn better”. i always considered it with the gaze of internalised ableism (ie “this is my problem; this is my flaw; i’m too sensitive is why i’m anxious”) and i focused so much on treatments for my anxiety as a prerequisite for fixing the problem of falling behind others in academia. but actually i needed support not only to get better, but to get accommodations in the meantime.

coping isn’t settling for an environment that bulldozes through your illness, ignoring it and (intentionally or unintentionally) triggering you. coping is not an individualised repression of symptoms until you burn out. coping is the act of doing things while having an illness that you could not do without support. bad definition but im tired. 🌹🌹

#madpunk #neuropunk #actually mentally ill #social anxiety disorder #coping strategies #mental health support #coping mechanisms #academic support #tw for mentions of therapy in tags ⚠️⚠️⚠️#might be getting therapy again. nervous because it was bad last time

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