Me (decorated In Bloody Runes): Man Why Did We Ever Stop Worshipping Golden Idols This Shit Rules

oh no

Death of a Salesman happens like every day to upper crust Americans but instead of poetic suicides they just join Qanon.

on the other hand there are some characters that i KNOW in my heart are not cis but heres the thing . THEY wouldn't know. they would have no idea. or they're not acknowledging it. i love trans headcanons as much as the next guy but angel devil from chainsaw man does not know that he's not cis because all angel devil is thinking about is that he's got a job to do and he'd rather not be doing it but ah well its that or being killed. oh well

theres also some characters that if you took them out for drinks for like 2 hours and talked to them they would realize very quickly they arent cis. but the resources simply dont exist in the situation they are in. do you understand my vision

I totally know how tagging works.

I think it would be funny to take two distinctly different book genres that happen to be set at the same time and just have them both happen in the same story. Hell, make them antagonistic to each other, you've got one set of protagonists over here and another set there, whatever happens on their turf works by their genre logic, and vice versa.

Like imagine you're reading a Jane Austen style sensibility realism about the british landowning gentry who are very delicate and polite with each other but consider abject poverty to mean only having two maids and one horse carriage. The protagonist is pleading her father to please reconsider his oath to never forgive some duke over an imagined slight in a starkly worded letter, before he brings ruin to the entire family over his own stubborn pride. If her brother won't come back from his service in the navy, the duke is their only hope. Her father insists that he will, his son is his the favourite child and if anything ever happened to him, then he would simply die from grief on the spot because he would no longer have anything worth living for. The protagonist is unsure whether it didn't cross her father's mind that by saying this he would imply that she is worth nothing to him, or whether he said that intentionally and simply does not care that it hurt her. She does not ask, and instead goes to her room to write a 15-page letter to her closest most beloved bosom friend.

Then it cuts to halfway across the world right into a rowdy romantic pirate adventure, right in the middle of a swashbuckling battle at sea. This time there's no time for long introductions of family backgrounds and scenic high detail descriptions of their respective estates, one of the ships is on fire and whichever side manages to get control of the other ship will live. Battle for survival alone at this point. Shit's pure tits up chaos. The other protagonist, a pirate, shows up on the scene, and in their introductory sentence stabs the aforementioned brother through the throat.

“girlcock” this, “girlcock” that. what if I want to watch the corner of her eyes crinkle when she talks about the tv show she likes. what if I want her to be able to confide in me the things she never felt safe enough to tell anyone else.

It's time to kill the idea that we can only grow and heal when we're uncomfortable. You heal every time you have a good conversation with someone. You heal every time you laugh. You heal every time something makes you smile genuinely. You heal every time you have fun creating something - anything. You heal every time you get so absorbed in something fun that you forget your struggles for a while. There is, in fact, lots of healing and growth to be found INSIDE your comfort zone.

wakes up: tired

mid day: tired

afternoon: could literally sleep for 20 hours straight

evening: normal

middle of the goddamn night: its time to Go!!!!!!!!!