Certain Words Can Change Your Brain Forever And Ever So You Do Have To Be Very Careful About It.

Every single odd number has an “e” in it.

March🎈 and April🌼 works from my illustration fanbook “A year at Dawn Winery”.

it's because the bear wouldn't kill me just for being a woman. the bear doesn't kill me for fun. the bear can be shouted at, and will leave me alone. the bear won't make a tiktok complaining about how i crossed to the other side of the path when i saw him coming. if a bear kills me, it's just being a bear: it cannot understand logic. it is not acting out of malice - just fear or hunger.

bell hooks once wrote about how porches might be the only outside space left for women - it is still the domain of the house while it is also outside-but-safe. when i am in the woods, i am in the bear's home, and he has a right to defend his property. outside spaces - anywhere at night, certain parks in the day - those are often implicitly "owned" by men. i cannot explain the feeling of knowing when you have entered a man's "territory." you walk into a place and just know you are in their space. you get a sick sense - you're in danger.

the other day a group of about 8 men were fooling around in the woods while i walked my dog. i had to go around, take the extra 3 miles just to avoid them. it's okay, i like walking. this wasn't even a #feminism moment. it was just a tuesday.

what a plain and easy question. only one of the situations is seen as a tragic accident. i would rather die and have a park bench erected in my honor rather than have my family questioned about why they let me, an adult, walk in the woods in the first place when i should really be at home in the kitchen.

i worked in retail and food service. i have had women say and do absolutely heinous and abusive things to me - not because i was a woman, but because i was there, and they were angry. the way men treated me when angry was different - it was because i was a woman. you can always feel the difference, how there's an undertone of i'd hurt you worse if i could get away with it. i keep seeing people try to cite stupid statistics. why is there always a strange rage whenever women agree on things? like men can argue their way out of our lived experiences? it isn't a buzzfeed quiz - which of these traumas are you? 10 super cute ways not to fear strange men.

i have actually (thrice!) seen a bear in the wild, by the way. i died each time, obviously, and am a ghost writing to you. (it was scary but completely and utterly fine). the second encounter was a black bear with her cub. she looked at me like - do we have to do this or are we good? my dog was busy sniffing a bush, completely nonreactive. i felt like i was in a sitcom: feminist poet reacts - does she actually mean she'd choose the bear? my only thought was - she's so beautiful. her paws are massive.

and there's a part of me that feels the rage spinning out in a corner. why do we have to come up with quippy little comments in order to teach men empathy. would you rather die in a car accident or due to a mugging? and would you rather your house burn down due to an electrical fire or due to arson? gee willikers - it's almost like we're human people, and want to risk the accident versus the intention.

i would rather my last thought be oh shit, a bear rather than i'm a person too. why doesn't that matter? why don't you care?

I went to a psychic, and she told me that I would be totally heartbroken in 14 years. 

I felt so bad about this, I went and got a puppy.

do you ever think way too much about “He’s a friend. The sort who’d refuse to let you get thrown off a ship by yourself. The sort you’d try to protect, even though I told you it would mean your death.”; “He swims, I swim.” / “He worth that much to you?”; “If I send you away, I lose the last friend I have in the world. Who wins then, Jean? Who’s protected then?”; “The ‘Oh, look, Jean Tannen is lying about betraying his best friend in the whole fucking world to a couple of Verrari cutthroats’ signal!” / “I should’ve known. I should’ve known we didn’t even need it.”; “I can’t name the poison that’s killing your friend. But the one that’s killing you is called hope.”; “You saved me!” / “It’s my turn every couple of years.”; “[...] he found Jean Tannen was already waiting for him, with a cheap gray cloak in his hands. Before Locke could move, Jean flung the cloak around his shoulders.”; “You said you needed optics. […] I lifted some pairs for you.”; “Jean noticed that Locke’s fingers were curled tightly in against his palms, and he carefully eased them apart.”; “Incomprehensible babble.” Jean sat on the edge of the bed and gently pushed Locke’s sweat-slick hair out of his eyes. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”; “Jean!” Locke clutched weakly at the lapels of Jean’s coat with his good hand. “I’m sorry, I fucked up. Please don’t stay here and get caught; the blackjackets will be coming, soon. I couldn’t bear to have you taken. Please just leave me. I can’t walk.” / “Idiot, Jean whispered, brushing away hot tears with his good hand. “You won’t have to.”; “I don’t care if you cough up buckets of blood. Buckets I can carry.”; “Jean.” said Locke, “you are a greater friend than I ever could have imagined before I met you; I owe you my life too many times over to count. I would rather be dead myself than lose you. Not just because you’re all I have left.”; “Gods help me, I will never be better off without you.” or are you normal?

but the good news is:

I think that more fanfiction should be written with the aim to tackle the original meaning of hanahaki. Because when the concept of hanahaki disease was originally created, it was intended to be a metaphor for suppressing one’s feelings.

Your feelings are this beautiful garden of flora inside of your chest. When you express how you feel honestly, you allow for it to grow freely. But when you hide how you feel out of fear of rejection, and try to make it smaller and smaller, the flowers become cramped inside of you, until you choke on your own feelings. Every flower you cough up is something you’ve felt, but refused to say.

The whole “dying” thing is intended to be more symbolic especially. You’re killing off bits and pieces of yourself and how you feel, because you’re afraid to express yourself.

It’s not really supposed to be, “The one I love doesn’t love me back, and I’m dying from it.” Rather, it’s more along the lines of, “Repressing your emotions is bad for you, and it’s better and healthier to express them freely, even when it’s scary.”

Which is to say that, one, the cure for the disease should be telling the person that you are in love with how you feel. How the other person feels about the person afflicted should have nothing to do with it, as the trope is meant to be about feeling your emotions unapologetically.

And that, two, it’s not an inherently romantic trope. Obviously, it has romantic applications, but it can be written for any situation where a character is hiding how they truly feel. This can include a refusal to address a specific trauma, a desire to indulge in something that they’re ashamed of, and even really practical things, like wanting to ask one’s boss for a higher position.

Although (as an aromantic person myself) I don’t agree with this conclusion about the trope, this application would also avoid people calling it arophobic. When the thing killing the character is a refusal to be honest with themselves, rather than an unrequited love, it’s on nobody’s hands but their own to save their life.

There are a ton of ways that this interpretation of the hanahaki disease could be applied in new and interesting ways in fanfiction, and I’d love to read what things people could come up with!

Whats that song that goes like “in love with the shape of you”

ok question tho

ive actually fucking tried to google this but i cant find an answer, all i get are fics

where does the whole “five times _____ and one time ____” fic title thing come from??

is it a reference to something? or is it just a fanfiction thing?