Oh My God OP

No that’s Ginger. Gender is the machine with the spinning blades that you use to make smoothies

no that’s gengar. gender is a game of skill that involves balancing wooden blocks

you’re all valid and you’re allowed to cry and its okay, you’re okay

Yo if you’re a boy with mental illness, a boy with disabilities, a boy who is/was an abuse victim, a boy who has an ED, a boy with trauma, I need you to know that you are not a burden, that you don’t need to “harden up”, that you are very brave, and that you shouldn’t just have to “get over it”.

britney spears has lost the court case, again, to end her father's conservatorship over her, and it makes me so fucking SAD that no one is in her corner, apart from like... britney stans that the rest of public opinion and internet treats as a joke. hashtag free britney itself started as a joke. meanwhile, she's now saying that she will not perform any more as long as her father has control over her, and still, no one seems to be in her corner. she has been infantilized since the beginning of her career, and her mental breakdown added that extra ~insanity~ layer to it all, thus turning her into someone who is treated condescendingly, with pity, with sarcasm, like a lobotomized version of her former self performing for others to make fun of her. but she is not given empathy. where is the fucking compassion?? not even out of nostalgia for a pop icon formative for an entire generation, in the full meaning of the word? who is having britney's back?? she deserves so much more.

me, before The Mandalorian: “huh? Star Wars? Yeah it has a pretty big fanbase, not much one for it though. I guess it’s pretty cool.”

me, after The Mandalorian: SLAMS THESIS “This is my complete documented argument on why without R2-D2, the Astromech, the entire galaxy would’ve gone to shit.”

I’d write sumn like “Dreamside” and the spell check would go “Excuse me, excuse- do you mean dream side?”

Then I’d lock gazes with it and say “no.” and it’ll instantly shuffle back and start to learn the word ‘Dreamside’ because I am the writer and I am God here.

The ‘add to dictionary’ button on MS word is such a power move like I don’t care if it’s a real word or not, you stupid little software, you will learn the word Quinjet and that’s that on that

I like how it’s- “Sane Person” and “P.E.A.R” because that’s exactly what it is

friendly reminders with stock photos

little nightmares 2 spoilers but i give you no context whatsoever

you know what doesn’t get talked about enough in writing circles

completed story grief

That feeling you are left with when you have finished a long project - whether it is long because it contains a lot of words, or long because it took you a long time to write, or long because it took you a long time to start writing it - when you’re happy because you finished it but empty because it is finished. You took out all of the words that were inside of you, at least all of the ones that pertain to that story, and the relief that follows such an action can be devastatingly exhausting.

On top of just the empty feeling, there follows that bittersweet sense of understanding that this thing which has for so long been your companion is no longer just your companion, and that you have in some ways severed the ties with it, because you will not be writing it anymore. You might write other stories related to it. You might write stories in the same world. Or stories with the same characters. But THAT story is finished. That story has been taken out of you and put where it can be a part of everyone that reads it. That is unimaginably happy and sad at the same time.

So I just want to say, I guess, be nice to yourself after you finish a story. Yes it’s happy, yes it feels good. But if you also feel a little like you’ve just lost something, give yourself some time to process that, because in a way you did. It’s a happy loss, the sort of loss wildlife rescuers feel when an animal they saved is able to go back and be wild again. It’s a good, happy thing, but it’s also okay to take a little time to be sad and take care of yourself.

magic; colours

“Are you sure you want to do this?” The Apprentice turned her head. “What?” she teased. “Getting cold feet?” The Companion tensed. “No!” he was quick to say. “I’m just....worried!” “Uh huh.” The Apprentice chuckled softly beneath her breath. Her hand gripped around a branch, pulling herself up an incline. “What could you possibly be worried about?” She paused and waited, letting The Companion reach up to her level. “Well,” he huffed, “we’re walking through the woods in the middle of the night.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s kinda sus.” “Almost midnight,” she corrected. The Apprentice made to shove at him, but decided against it. Standing at the edge of an decline might not be the best place to rough house. “It’s not like we’re walking in the dark anyway,” she countered - lifting up her flashlight. The Companion hefted his own almost instinctively. With the movement, the light flickered a few times - then died off completely. A look of disbelief flitted across his face. “Really?” He slapped the tool a few times. The Companion groaned, “I just changed the batteries on this thing.” The Apprentice couldn’t help but laugh. “Here,” she extended a hand forward, “let me.” The Companion’s eyes widened in the light of her flashlight. Without another word of protest, he passed over the malfunctioning tool. The Apprentice shoved her flashlight beneath her armpit - using her now two free hands to tilt the broken flashlight around. Her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes narrowed - her fingers tightening their grip around the tool. Purple tendrils streamed out of her fingers. They roamed freely for a while - before The Apprentice narrowed her eyes to slits. The tendrils were jerked back towards the tool, their tips sharpening - plunging and filling up the flashlight with a bright purple glow. As soon as the glow faded, The Apprentice let her shoulders relax. “Tadaa,” she said, grinning - her finger flicking the flashlight back on. Her Companion made a soft sound - a huff of amusement. “Thanks,” he said, taking back the now-fixed flashlight. He glanced up to her. “Purple?” “Electricity,” The Apprentice confirmed. Abruptly, she turned away. “We’re almost at the summit. Come on.” Behind her, The Companion huffed out a breath. “I thought yellow would be electricity.” “That’s a stereotype. Yellow is healing magic.” “Healing magic? Wouldn’t that be green?” The Apprentice paused and gave him a look. “When was the last time you ate green medicine?” The Companion lifted up a finger, then paused. “Fair point.” The Apprentice rolled her eyes - although snickered softly. “Yellow is healing magic because it represents the sun,” she explained. She stepped over a gnarled root. “Green is speed.” “Because green means go?” “Exactly.” The Companion snorted. His footsteps brushing against the undergrowth, he moved quicker to come up beside her. “Okay,” he said, “what about blue?” “Blue’s air.” “White?” “Cleanliness.” “Black.” “Evil,” The Apprentice whispered out, her tone dropped by a few octaves. The act broke at the sight of The Companion’s wide eyed gaze. “Black’s the dirt,” she chuckled. “Fertility and what not.” The Companion rolled his eyes and snorted. “Is there even a color for evil?” The Apprentice stopped then, thinking. “Good question,” she hummed. Slowly, she began to move forward. “I don’t think so,” she murmured. “Evil isn’t a magic - it’s a choice.” The Companion gave no response to that for a while. They made the rest of their journey in silence. Finally, they both came up to a rocky summit. The Companion grinned at her then. “Ready?” he asked, fishing out a device from his backpack. The Apprentice grinned and dropped her own pack. “Ready,” she confirmed, rolling up her sleeve. Her Companion held a small cube in his hand. One wrist flicked upwards to check at his watch - whilst the other held out the cube towards her. The Apprentice grabbed it between both hands - shuddering softly at the warmth it shot through her veins. After a few seconds, he nodded. Held out five fingers into the air. “Five.” The Apprentice braced herself. “Four.” The woods around them went silent. “Three.” The Companion’s grin grew wider. “Two.” Her own grin grew. “One.” With a short grunt of effort, The Apprentice shot multi-coloured tendrils into the cube. The Device shook slightly in her hands, before- In a glorious light show, it shot the tendrils up into the air. A silent explosion - their own personal firework show. More tendrils got shot upwards, more lights, more colours that lit up their faces. The Apprentice stepped back, brushing her shoulders against her Companion. “Happy New Year.” She smiled. The shoulder beside her nudged her gently. “Happy New Year.”

If they can’t see that making business with terfs is a bad idea, then we’ll make them see.

If they can’t see that giving terfs a platform is a bad idea, then we’ll make them see.

If they can’t see that we do not want anything to do with giving profits to a terf, then we will make them see.

Hey, so they’re making a Netflix Harry Potter.

With that in mind, we’re all gonna remember that JKR is a terf who has literally been cited by legislators engaged in legislation that actively harms trans people, and we’re not gonna give her any more money.

That means not streaming the new show on Netflix, because regardless of how much influence she has on the production, she gets paid for it.

We’re gonna make the show flop. We’re gonna show Warner Brothers that we don’t forget (of course, how would we forget, it isn’t as if she’s stopped), and that their business association with terfs is no longer profitable.

It is NOT like Lovecraft, because Lovecraft is very dead and his works are in the public domain. By consuming Lovecraft media, you are not giving any money to old Howard.