blondies and birbs

// aki / birb // they/she // 19 // spam blog // 

[blondiebirbie]

find me at @blondbirb for original birb content !

[weaver-z]

My favorite flag developments on r/place are Mexico absolutely thrashing every other country artistically and Germany making fun of Canada's maple leaf tragedy by drawing their own maple leaf

[kuma-kami]

Visit Original Link

[snowdaysforever]

DELETE THIS POST

[theoldspaceevibes-deactivated20]

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

[froborr]

*clicks play in morbid curiosity*

*hammers reblog button*

[chongoblog]

I think I find this post every April Fools Day and I am so happy that I do

[nerdalmighty]

Where are my fellow SNOM STANS?!

Credit to @nuddlez2 on twitter!

[rosebloodcat]

I know it's currently a fanfic trend for everyone to assume that the player character in Pokemon Legends Arceus is an amnesiac like Ingo. That their memories have been scrambled and fogged so that they don't know themselves anymore

But, if I may suggest some drama/angst, what if they weren't an amnesiac? What if they didn't have scrambled memories? What if the only thing they forgot was how they got thrown into Hisui?

But, other than that, they still have their full memory. They fully knew who they were and where they came from. They just haven't let themselves talk about it.

Why?

Because they're afraid of causing a time paradox.

This is clearly the past, or at least the past of a world similar to their own.

And time travel isn't unheard of in pop culture, so the idea of it coming to them isn't impossible.

But with that knowledge comes the fear of the kind of repercussions that come with that.

What if talking about the future changes it? What if telling people about what they know hurts them? Or hurts someone in the future? What if they make things happen too quickly? Or even prevent them from happening at all?

So they keep quiet and pretend they don't know anything. That they're clueless and confused and know nothing about what happened to them.

They hope that if they keep their mouth shut, they can protect the future (and possibly themselves as well). What if they play along and follow the rules and tasks presented to them, they can go home without causing a catastrophe.

Of course, that adds new drama when they meet Ingo.

Because, for just a moment, they think that they aren't alone. That they're not the only ones having to deal with the worry/stress of being thrown so far into the past with no idea how or why. That there was finally another person, an actual adult, who could help them with this mission they'd been given so they could get home. A single moment of hope/relief/comfort. (Especially if they know who Ingo is!)

Only for the next words out of Irida's mouth to crush it when she reveals he's got amnesia.

That they're still alone, burdened with the knowledge of the future and why, exactly, that they don't belong in this world.

And now they are saddled with a new dilemma: do they tell Ingo what they know?

Do they share the burden they've been carrying? Risk putting the same stress they've been suffering under on his shoulders too?

Or do they continue to keep their silence and spare him from the weight of such knowledge?

Personally, I think that's some delicious angst and drama that no one has really explored yet.

[strwbrymchi-moved]

call me baby!!! pat me on the head!!! tell me im cute!!! buy me cute things!!!!! kiss my forehead!!!!!!! love me!!!!!!!!!!

[homunculus-argument]

Hey btw, if you're doing worldbuilding on something, and you're scared of writing ~unrealistic~ things into it out of fear that it'll sound lazy and ripped-out-of-your-ass, but you also don't want to do all the back-breaking research on coming up with depressingly boring, but practical and ~realistic~ solutions, have a rule:

Just give the thing two layers of explanation. One to explain the specific problem, and another one explaining the explanation. Have an example:

Plot hole 1: If the vampires can't stand daylight, why couldn't they just move around underground?

Solution 1: They can't go underground, the sewer system of the city is full of giant alligators who would eat them.

Well, that's a very quick and simple explanation, which sure opens up additional questions.

Plot hole 2: How and why the fuck are there alligators in the sewers? How do they survive, what do they eat down there when there's no vampires?

Solution 2: The nuns of the Underground Monastery feed and take care of them as a part of their sacred duties.

It takes exactly two layers to create an illusion that every question has an answer - that it's just turtles all the way down. And if you're lucky, you might even find that the second question's answer loops right back into the first one, filling up the plot hole entirely:

Plot hole 3: Who the fuck are the sewer nuns and what's their point and purpose?

Solution 3: The sewer nuns live underground in order to feed the alligators, in order to make sure that the vampires don't try to move around via the sewer system.

When you're just making things up, you don't need to have an answer for everything - just two layers is enough to create the illusion of infinite depth. Answer the question that looms behind the answer of the first question, and a normal reader won't bother to dig around for a 3rd question.

[ineffablecalculus]

Right? Vampires are out. Sewer nuns are my new obsession.

[mioxenoblade]

There is no actual, tangible reason why we allow people to starve, to be homeless, to suffer and die needlessly. Food is plentiful. Empty homes are plentiful. Medicine is plentiful. It’s hidden away behind constructs and we pretend those constructs mean something. There is an empty home and a homeless family, give them it. There is a sick child and common medicine to treat it, give it to them. There is a starving person and so much food wasted by corporations or hidden behind a dollar sign, feed them.

[ritikajyala]

Last night, I told my mother "I wish I was dead" in a fit of rage and winter clouded her eyes. But it wasn't white and it wasn't quiet, it resembled something like helplessness and rage. She was in pain and I knew I hurt her. I wanted to say something, anything, but how do you withdraw a declaration of war? How do you stop the bombs that already destroyed homelands? In that moment I remembered how she always told me that when she was a kid, she was too afraid to sleep with the lights on. Not because she was afraid of monsters, but because she feared her grandmother would die. Because when you're a kid, not seeing it means it doesn't exist anymore. I saw the winter in her eyes again and I knew I had switched off the light, she wasn't angry, she was afraid.

And I also remembered how she always told me I'd always be 3 years old for her, always a child, and for the first time, I heard in the voice of a three year old "I wish I was dead". My heart broke. And I wanted to hug her and hold her, tell her I was sorry, that I didn't mean it. Before I could move a hand, she left the room. The entire evening, I saw myself as she saw me, a 3 year old child. I saw the child hurt herself and cry herself to sleep every week, fight her friends with her tiny hands and two ponytails, I saw her depression and her anxiety, I saw her yell "I wish I was dead" and I knew. I knew. I wanted to shout through the walls, yell and cry and tell my mother that now I KNEW, but I didn't. I wept and wept until I heard a quiet knock and a soft familiar voice whispered, "Dinner is ready".

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

[soberscientistlife]

[jodiefoster]

you know when you realize and you just.. Realize

[jehans-flower-pot]

[nocontextgoodplace]

[acesartemis]

[babyspacebatclone]

This is wonderful.

For people who can’t see the image for some reason:

It’s a “Dear Abby” column, published in 1995. The letter writer, “Not Looking for a Girlfriend in New Jersey,” identifies as a 53 year old male virgin with no interest in either women or men, despite coworkers having assumptions that his lack of a family means he must be gay.

This man expresses no concern about his situation (other than the presumed exhaustion at being continually misidentified), and suggests he was writing simply so other people could see that “a man who had no interest in sex” exists.

Abby blows it out of the ballpark with her response:

People who have no sexual feelings are called “asexual.” Since it doesn’t appear to bother you, it should present no problem. You are accountable to no one except yourself [emphasis mine].

Here we have the bastion of middle American, the “nice White lady with all the answers”, normalizing this man’s experience and literally telling him to ignore the haters. Pre Millennium. She even calmly supplies this man with the language to identify himself, since he seems not to have encountered it before; that must have been so empowering for him, to have a word for his experience and identity, and to hear that others shared it.

Everyone, you are valid, and your identity is accountable to no one except yourself.

[stockpilingantihistamines]

[logarto]

meow btw. if you even care.

[yuumei-art]

Hydrangea hair~

Part of my flower hair series