#(it really did)

[windsweptinred]

J. K. R is now represented by a transgender politician

As of the Scottish Parliament election results, Rowling's regional representative for Edinburgh and Lothian is nonbinary, transgender Tamil immigrant Dr. Q Manivannan. Pronouns they/them.

Let's all take this moment to appreciate how much agony this must cause J. K.R. And wish Dr Manivannan all the best.

[baepsays]

incubus gojo this incubus gojo that-

incubus gojo is gonna do ass.

[baronessblixen]

if I had a nickel everytime Gillian wears a sexy strapless black dress when DD gets married i’d have two, which is not a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

This made me laugh, anon. Thank you. It's so true.

[hirarious]

[sh00kspeared]

How did Solas have the strength to look into Ilmarë’s big sweet puppy dog eyes and break up with him. Poor Ilmarë just wanted to marry his prince charming one day 🥺

[lookslikeaquentinblakedrawing]

I really really should have stopped my TWD rewatch after S6. I meant too! But I stupidly continued on to S701 and now the last vestige of my enjoyment has evaporated, exactly like it did back in the day. I was having a surprising amount of fun with the show and even had some Rick/Daryl fic ideas (which is rare for me) but now that motivation is gone. I feel like I stepped on a rake I knew was there lol

…although I do keep daydreaming about an AU where Carol gets her hands on an RPG and singlehandedly pulls another Terminus on Negan’s ass right before Glenn gets it, just because I find it soothing. Does this fic exist?? I need it to exist.

[stormyweaver]

Releasing some feelings on here just because... I wanted to. Death mention below, as well as some musings surrounding grief and mourning, slight trauma.

So, my Nana passed away on April 27th. For those of you that know me beyond just snzblr, it's something I've been struggling with for a while now. We never had the best relationship. Actually, it was a pretty toxic one in the sense that no amount of attempts at reconciliation were ever enough for my grandmother to accept me as I am. And as I wanted to be.

So I'd fallen out of contact with her after I moved out late last December.

I haven't really wanted to post this for a while because, there is just so much surrounding her passing, things so far outside of my control, things I've been trying to comprehend and have finally decided don't deserve my time. Time I've spent trying to make sense of how people can be so selfish, greedy, manipulative and downright cruel in the face of losing someone. So much time spent analyzing when I wanted to grieve.

And the hardest part is... I feel like I want to grieve, I want to feel sad that she's gone, I want to feel guilty that I didn't get to say goodbye, and in some ways I do.

In other ways... I'm just realizing that I don't feel anything else but relief.

I had the same experience with my mother's passing. This overwhelming sense of relief that I felt so awful about, how dare I feel a weight lifted when my mother's gone, and now my grandmother. And I had to sit down with myself and write down why exactly this relief felt wrong.

And what I found out was that the relief doesn't feel wrong. What feels wrong is not grieving in the 'conventional' way.

I loved my mother, and I loved my grandmother, and I don't doubt that for a moment they also loved me. But love can turn ugly when and twisted when people start rationalizing unhealthy behaviors towards the people they do care about.

Realizing that someone could love me and also be a horrible presence in my life has been difficult as Hell to understand and accept.

But the more I let go of everything that's driving me to feel guilt about not being devastated that she's gone, about accepting that relief is just as valid as any other emotion when a loved one passes, the more I allow myself to feel what is genuinely deep down in my gut, the better I feel about letting go of this performative need to appear 'sad' when that's only a part of how I feel during this time.

I loved my grandmother, and I wish she could have lived a life that made her content, instead of our last conversations being centered around how miserable and unfulfilled she felt. But I could never have lived her life for her, and trying to do so after she's gone would not help anyone.

She's gone; I'm here. And as much as it hurts me to my core that the two women who raised me are no longer here, I'm filled with hope that I can do something neither of them felt they had the option or chance to do: to live my life for myself and for the things that I care about, and to take the lessons I've learned and use them for growth and change.