Latest Posts by nyxoholic666 - Page 7

jude duarte

Jude's character also made me realize just how lazy of a main character F/eyre is. While F/eyre might initiate certain scenes, she remains utterly stagnant within them. F/eyre chooses to kill Andras, but then she doesn't do anything else, things happen to her, and she is pushed around. She makes the decision to go UTM, she does nothing after that, things happen to her. F/eyre is absolutely stagnant UTM. You know what would have been a very cool scene, if F/eyre was the one who bargained with R/hysand, if she were the one to come up with a plan when she realized that R/hys needed her. If F/eyre was learning about the politics of the Fae world, if she demanded to be let in because she's their only hope. That would make it so much more convincing that R/hys fell in love with her. If F/eyre exerted her obvious power over R/hys. If F/eyre showed that type of control over her fate...it would have been badass. That is a good main character.

Jude immediately recognizes her power in situations. When she bargains with Dain. Yes, she at a disadvantage, but she's also in a position that she can bargain with.

F/eyre is not active within the scenes, even if she initiates them. F/eyre never earns anything, things are given to her. And while Jude is not the perfect protagonist, and while I have my critiques, Jude does things, she learns, and her wants manifest with her making the decisions to act within the scenes. It's true that things happen to Jude, but what makes her different from F/eyre is that Jude also affects those actions, she learns from what others do to her.

So what does Jude want? She wants power. How does that manifest? She wants to be a knight. And the plot of the story follows around that.

In TAR, what does F/eyre want? We...don't know. She thinks of safety in the first four chapters, but her actions literally conflict this. When she kills Andras, that's out of survival, and when she goes UTM, it's a decision made mostly out of guilt. It doesn't say anything about F/eyre. The story straight-up won't commit to a core value for her. And it would be easy to characterize her like Jude. F/eyre wants power. It's the truth of her character, but SJM employs a misplaced sense of altruism and virtuosity. Nothing F/eyre does actually says anything about her because she's a lazy character. She'll start the scene, and then will do nothing after.

F/eyre wants to be High Lady of Spring, but she literally does nothing to show that she wants that. When she's introduced to Tamlin's court, she ignores them. She's completely disinterested in the most important parts of being a leader. Tamlin won't let you out? Okay, how is F/eyre going around that? Does she inquire about Tamlin through associates? Ask around, and play that role of Lady just to get more information? Maybe she learns concerning information about Tamlin through her constant inquiry. Does she talk to the nobility? Glean information when Tamlin won't tell her? Talk to Ianthe or gossip with her just to find out about court dynamics. If she asks the right questions, she could literally find out that Tamlin has a dark past while the story concurrently shows his devolving behavior.

It's okay if she fails, or if she gains nothing, but that type of characterization would literally make sense. It would make F/eyre a clever, learning, and interesting character. If she's sneaking around, doing xyz, we learn way more about F/eyre....and she grows.

So when Tamlin becomes more abusive, F/eyre is already actively seeking ways to get out, to be free. And when we get M/or coming to rescue her...it is F/eyre saving herself. Yes, she has no power, but she's not a damsel, she's a survivor. It's F/eyre exerting control (and even if she doesn't she's still a strong person for leaving, or being recused, but for what the story is arguing...having F/eyre be the one to make her own opinions on Tamlin rather than told by R/hysand is way more feminist and powerful).

brown girls are so aggressive when someone else is in the kitchen with them

diary of a wimpy kid is dark academia bc it’s about a depressed artist pursuing his education

"old friends" is an underrated relationship dynamic because it's such an innocent boring sounding term for what is usually some of the wildest shit imaginable. it's always like 'oh yeah we go way back, we have history' and then you find out that history includes sex, drugs, murder, divorce, war crimes and The Incident

Girls, romanticize yourselves. You are a queen. You are a warrior. You are an enchantress. You are a mermaid. You are a goddess. You are all of these things and more, you are the stuff of fairytales. 

thinking about how all the adults were absolutely bullshitting when they said that school days are the best days of your life???? like whatever issues i have going on now, i can buy myself little treats like a book or food whenever i want. i feel like im stagnating in my current job so im looking for a new one. imagine if i was bored of school, no one would let me go to a new one. I don’t have to hang out with anyone I don’t want to. being an adult is fuckjng amazing and i was so right to feel trapped as a kid

the weird thing about growing apart from friends is that you can never fully be rid of them. i don't think once about the girl i promised to never lose contact with for weeks at a time but whenever i see a certain book series i'll think about how much she loved it. i haven't talked to my old friends from camp in months but i'll never not like their pictures when they come up on my feed, and i'll never not like the friends themselves either. and it stings a bit when a boy i used to talk to for hours doesn't say hi to me when i see him in the cafeteria but whenever i see a supermarket cake i'll remember the time in middle school when i brought one to school for his birthday and he ate three slices and told me it was the best cake he'd ever had. you can pull away from friends but never fully break apart. the process of growing apart has a beginning but never an end

tumblr is the safest social media to open in public bc nobody recognises its interface. if u recognise it thats ur problem

I love that Tumblr is actually a community. Your blog will be quite poor and boring if you only post your own stuff. Most of our blogs contain countless reblogs and discussions with other people on the website. This is communication and appreciation of each other’s creativity, thoughts, sketches and etc. It’s one thing to mindlessly like tons of photos a day like TikTok and Instagram offer you, and another to reblog and add hashtags and some comments about how the post made you feel or what you think you could add to a joke, a headcanon, an au, a story, an art… It makes this hellsite feel genuine.

Why I think tumblr is superior than any other media, you ask? Well a minute I'm reading about a really heart touching essay about discrimination and the next second I am reading about how mosquitoes are gay.

trying to carry too many objects at once and dropping one and leaning down to pick it up and then dropping another thing when you do and having to leave it on the floor and come back for it is so humiliating like ohhh shit i might have overshot this one. now i have to leave a breadcrumb trail of shame in my wake as i try to reach my destination without dropping anything else. i wish i was dead.

reblog this post to light the diya of the person you reblogged it from <3

there are two key questions to gauge what sort of Weird Girl someone was as a preteen.

a) horses, dolphins or dragons?

b) Vikings, Ancient Egyptians or dinosaurs?

tell me in the tags please. if you were allowed to pick your own room decor between 7 and 13 the answer to A should be self evident bc every Weird Girl I knew who was allowed to pick had one of those three themes.

the love when you say you are full but your mom serves a little bit more food on your plate, the love when you compliment a classmate that you don't interact with much and their eyes light up, the love when someone has drawn you or written you some poems but are too shy to show them to you, the love when you wake up too early and everything's quite and only the birds have begun to sing, the love when a loved one hugs you and doesn't let go, the love when someone says that they're proud of you, the love when you accidentally brush the arm of that special someone and both of you blush, the love when you give a stranger a smile on the bus, on the train, on the subway, and they smile back, the love when you remember a cherished but long forgotten memory, the love when someone buys you a leather-back copy to write in because they remembered you are a poet, the love when you feed a street dog once and then they wag their tail every time they see you, the love when you give some food or money to a homeless person and their eyes say nothing but gratitude. that kind of love? the world really depends on it.

sometimes i forget how many times i’ve picked myself off the floor, how many times i’ve washed away smudgy makeup and put myself to bed. how many times i’ve said no to something unhealthy. said yes to something good. how many times i’ve treated myself with kindness and patience. i forget how many times i’ve tended to wounds and made peace with my own anger. if i was taking care of a body that was not my own, i’d believe i was doing everything i could. so here’s to remembering that i’m doing the best i can.

some of you haven’t stayed up late to read a 100k+ word fic even though you had to be up early the next day and it shows

Genuinely the posts where people collate and juxtapose a bunch of different media texts to convey an idea with all the citations at the bottom are the best thing to have come out of this site in the entire eight years I’ve been on here. It’s so sexy. Intertextuality is genuinely one of the things that I go feral for without hesitation and I adore it it’s such a good use of the medium I hope it never stops

thats the spirit ayyy

someone tell me a way to earn money

you COULD try writing people’s essays slash doing their hw online for money

someone tell me a way to earn money

Why are shoes such a big issue for Indian dance?

I AM GLAD YOU ASKED - and this is what I’ve been taught.

We wear bells on our ankles and they’re our instruments. You wouldn’t put your shoes on a piano or a harp or a saxophone. It’s just something you respect and want to keep clean.

Also, Indians, along with other cultures, take their shoes off to pray. You don’t want to bring extra impurities into a place of worship like a temple or deraser. Taking off shoes is a sign of respect.

When we dance, we dance barefoot to show respect for the Earth. She allows us space to slap our feet and move, so we remove our shoes because she has provided a holy space for us.

This is what I’ve learned in my 13 years of Kathak. Also wearing bells with shoes just feels wrong - maybe that’s an innate cultural thing.

honestly I agree

tda >>>tmi

I still think infernal devices was the best (in my opinion)

i regret buying tmi so much with my birthday money....

Story time:

In middle school biology, we did an experiment. We were given yams, which we would sprout in cups of water. We then had to make hypotheses about how the yams would grow, based on descriptions of yam plants in our books, and make notes of our observations as they grew.

Here’s what was supposed to happen: we were supposed to see that the actual growth of the plant did not resemble our hypotheses. We were then supposed to figure out that these were, in fact, sweet potatoes.

What actually happened was that every single student in every single class lied in their notes so that their observations perfectly matched their hypotheses. See, everyone assumed the mismatch meant they had done something wrong in the process of growing the plant or that they had misunderstood the dichotomous key or the plant identification terminology. And, thanks to the wonders of a public school education, everyone assumed the wrong results would get us a failing grade. We were trying to pass. We didn’t want to get bitched out by the teacher. Curiosity, learning, science - that had nothing to do with why we were sitting in that classroom. So we all lied.

The teacher was furious. She tried to fail every student, but the administration stepped in and told her she wasn’t allowed to because a 100% fail rate is recognized as a failure of the teacher, not the class. It wasn’t even her fault, really, though her being a notorious hard-ass didn’t help. It was a failure of the entire educational system.

So whenever I see crap like Elizabeth Holmes’s blood test scam or pharmaceutical trials which are unable to be replicated or industry-funded research that reaches wildly unscientific conclusions, I just remember those fucking sweet potatoes. I remember that curiosity dies when people are just trying to give their superiors the “right” answers, so they can get the grade, get the job, get the paycheck. It’s not about truth when it’s about paying rent. There’s no scientific integrity if you can’t control for human desperation.

Honestly the queue and schedule post options on Tumblr are extremely underrated. No other major social networking site has the ability to do that with the same ease as Tumblr does, and we've had them for like a decade now. They're fantastic features and Tumblr doesn't get enough credit for having them.

this is entrapment

I respect poetry so much because it does what I cannot do - say so much with so little.

When I have something Much to say, it takes me just as many words to say it. I say it with words that are each of them bland and common, unimaginative by their lonesome, with the hopes that if I stack so many together and squeeze a single drop of Much from each that it might flow into something meaningful.

When I have something to say, I say it twice. I say it three times. Because the first or second may not have captured the point. Because I do not trust myself to express the full essence saying it just once. Like just now, those last two sentences. I’ll repeat myself a third time for good measure - because I do not say it right just once or twice.

Poems say things in only a half, only a quarter. They choose single words worth more than ten of mine. I want to know how their minds shop for words. I want to distill myself like poets do. I want to trade in all my too many common words for the way they use an extraordinary few.

If I keep writing this, I’ll write it forever. I’ll explain myself again, as I have already, as I’m doing now. With more and different other words, with the hope of saying myself fully, like how all the hatched and messy wanton scribbles from a pen might finally color in a page. I want to change that. I want to not rip the page I’ve oversaturated by the tip of my pen.

I’ll start tomorrow, maybe, to explain myself less.

i think the aesthetic echo chamber created by tumblr is more dangerous than the political one bcs im self aware enough to kno my politics r radical but then me and the girlies are on here reblogging body horror and very weird erotic poetry and i get offline and interact w a real person and jokingly say something like fungus is tangibly divine in the way it facilitates the eternal dance of creation and destruction which is really creation as or by destruction and theyre like what the hell are you talking about freak. the aesthetic barrier between me and a girl in a vineyard vines tee is literally insurmountable. i find the trout to be a very nietzschean fish