Just thought I’d make a masterpost for my blog ^_^ so y’all can find my stuff easier
#star arts (my own work, always, both fanart and original)
#star writes (formal essays and articles)
#miscellaneous written fancies (my original poetry, although one or two annoyingly don’t show up in the tag so drop me an ask if you can’t find one and let me know so I can sort it out)
#star speaks (meant to be purely original posts but I accidentally got these mixed up with reblogs where I add something, my own thoughts, and all, however if you wanna find a particular Star only post it’s here)
#star reblogs (reblogs only tag)
#star photography (literally anything with my photography)
#star bakes (baking chaos)
#star watches stuff (media commentary)
#EDdiary (my diary posts documenting my experiences attempting to recover from an eating disorder, at times triggering so be aware to tread carefully, particularly graphic posts I do tag and add a warning. Not daily, just whenever I feel like it)
#a bend in the road (musings on my personal careers and ambitions as well as my journey getting there)
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Words cannot describe the humiliation of being stuck in a premier inn bathroom for about 40 minutes because my digestive system decided to give me a rough time and the UK has a severe lack of bidets.
And apparently good tissue paper. Not toilet roll, no. They don’t even give you toilet rolls anymore, they have a tissue paper dispenser. Less than 1 ply.
And the water pressure on the sink and shower is… embarrassing.
3 star hotels used to be as good and decent an experience as a 5 star. Now I’m realising it may actually be worth the price to book a Marriott or 4 Seasons because it would be cheaper than buying extra toilet rolls and amenities to a 3 star 😭
Sadly I’ve found out that Sakura Blossoms really are hard to get as soon as it’s out of season so I decided to make double chocolate ube brownies instead
Insha’Allah people like it ^_^ apparently the sakura brownies sold out fast last time so Insha’Allah the same will happen this time. After all, ube is trendy now *resists the urge to roll my eyes*
Alhamdulilah I’m doing well on time, even though I made less than I planned I prefer being ready early with a good set of bakes ready rather than trying to rush a whole lot
Now I have time to relax, sit down and read for a bit, maybe journal or sketch before we leave.
Sadly I’ve found out that Sakura Blossoms really are hard to get as soon as it’s out of season so I decided to make double chocolate ube brownies instead
Insha’Allah people like it ^_^ apparently the sakura brownies sold out fast last time so Insha’Allah the same will happen this time. After all, ube is trendy now *resists the urge to roll my eyes*
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So many women have internalized the idea that being difficult makes people think less of them, when in my experience the opposite is almost always true. Every single time I have spoken up, voiced what I actually need and refused to shrink the moment in order to be more comfortable for everyone else in the room, I have been approached afterward by people who wanted to know me better. There is no reward waiting for you on the other side of making yourself smaller. People do not love you more for taking up less space, they simply get used to you taking up less space and adjust their expectations accordingly. Every time I have been exactly as audacious as the moment required, it has opened doors rather than closed them and I have made real connections directly because of it rather than in spite of it.
it is genuinely so unbelievably annoying to be a child trafficking survivor and have to listen to people argue about shadows on the wall when it comes to children’s rights and child abuse prevention. the only true way to prevent child abuse is to take away parental control. give children rights. give them the education, resources, and rights to say yes or no to whatever and whoever they desire. i know what would have helped me. i’m so mind numbingly sick of all of this. everyone wants to feel like a hero, but nobody wants to help anyone.
there is not a pedophile cabal hiding in the shadows waiting to kidnap children. parents are the number one perpetrators of child sexual abuse. my kidnapper was my mother. my traffickers were all paid by her and had legal custody over me. i was forced thru constant manual labor and sexual humiliation in the name of “therapy” because parents are allowed to do whatever they want with the children they own. the end of adult supremacy is the only way to end child abuse.
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Fascinating how what's considered feminine and what's considered masculine can change over time. The rebranding of being a horse girl into being a stereotypical feminine girly trait needs to be studied.
Look at classic children's novels. As recently as the 50s and early 60s, being obsessed with horses as a girl was depicted as strange and tomboyish, and the very concept of being obsessed with horses from early childhood and loving toy horses and desperately wanting your own horse being a "little girl thing" and not a "little boy thing" would send someone from the 1800s and earlier into a coma.
There's maybe a point to be made here somewhere about how when keeping and riding horses stopped being necessary to the functioning of society and became a more "frivolous" thing, it was rapidly rebranded as silly and girly and for women, but what do I know.
i wrote a paper in my masculinity studies class in college about this exact phenomenon, specifically about how high heeled shoes started as a practical way for Persian cavalry to keep their feet on their stirrups, then likely due to that association, became a popular fashion item and status symbol among the upper classes of Europe, before the Great Male Renunciation of the 18th-19th centuries, when men started shunning opulence in favor of utility, leaving them as a fashion item for women instead.
I've joked that the two genders are Aesthetic and Utility before but thats just kinda the case
Hey so, this is my first time drawing him and I hope you like it cuz I still have hope for Inflop take the puppy back to us. Keep up girlies, we're doing some GREAT job. ♡♡♡
leon never says anything right away, always taking time to observe before reacting.
he watches the way you disappear into the bathroom before dates. the faint click of your makeup compacts, the hiss of the hairspray, the soft music you play while getting ready. by the time you step out, you’re smiling at him like it didn’t take you an hour deciding between two identical outfits.
but he notices.
notices the way your lipstick matches the blush on your cheeks. the special occasion earrings you wear only on dates. the perfume that lingers on his jackets, which change depending on the season (he likes the floral one best).
and, of course, the questions you always ask.
“does this look okay?
“is this shirt too bright?...or not bright enough?”
“will these heels match your shoes?”
leon thought it was ridiculous at first. as if there could ever be a version of you he wouldn’t look at like you hung the stars yourself.
it finally clicked one day while he was waiting outside your apartment. you were running late which was a rare occasion. when you finally appeared in front of him, you had an embarrassed smile while apologizing about redoing your makeup.
that night at dinner, he caught himself staring. you looked gorgeous, you always did. but he saw how clean your eyeliner was, how smooth your cheeks were, and how kissable your lips looked despite the plate of pasta you devoured.
the thought of you taking the time and effort to be so beautiful, just for him? that settled in his chest and followed him home.
the next morning, rather than just putting on the first shirt he sees, he pauses. his hand lingers over an old, loose academy shirt before reaching for a black fitted one instead. he remembers the way you gawked at him the first time he wore it, the memory making him chuckle.
he spends more time fixing his hair, but grows frustrated that it doesn’t move with his fingers dipped in water. that afternoon, he bought a new hair serum. one of the best, at least, that’s what the sales lady said.
he starts using moisturizer before bed and sunscreen in the morning.
he’s more generous with the cologne that made you bury your face in his neck for a second longer than usual.
even his workouts change. he still trains because he has to, but maybe he adds one more set. maybe he holds the plank a little longer. maaaaybe he does pushups before he comes to see you. you don’t seem to mind when the sleeves of his shirts began to fit tighter around his arms than they used to.
leon thought it was only fair, and he doesn’t mention any of it.
it wasn’t until one evening when you’re standing behind him in his kitchen, wrapping your arms around his waist while he’s washing dishes. your fingers squeezed the taut muscle of his abdomen.
“have you been working out more?”
leon glances over his shoulder, pretending to think about it. “...maybe.”
“maybe?” you giggle, feeling his arms. “your shirts didn’t used to fit like this.”
he dries his hands before turning around to face you. he leans against the counter, pulling you close.
“you spend a lot of time getting pretty before you see me,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “figured I should put in some work too.”
you blinked. “for me?”
he could feel his ears heating up. “didn’t seem right letting you be the only one trying.”
the look on your face (and the kisses you smothered him in) made everything worth it.
BONUS
chris stared at leon from the bathroom doorway, watching as he dripped something onto his hand before combing his fingers through his hair.
“is that…hair oil?
leon didn’t even look up. “hair serum,” he corrected.
“alright, pretty boy, what’s next? face masks? cucumber slices over your eyes?”
“why? you wanna do some? I’ve got a few,” leon said, holding up a variety of sheet masks.
chris blinked. “...why do you have so many?”
“they’re moisturizing,” he shrugged. “my girl took all the brightening ones.”
leon said it so casually that chris had to stare at him for a second before breaking into a grin. leon gave him an annoyed look through the mirror. “what?” he scoffed.
“hair serum. moisturizer. lip balm,” chris pointed at the lineup on the bathroom counter. all the bottles were on a rotating caddy, courtesy of you, of course. he plucked a bottle from the shelf, squinting at the label. “cuticle oil? since when do you care about your cuticles?”
“since someone told me to take better care of my hands,” leon snatched the bottle away from him.
chris barked out a laugh. “ain’t no way.”
“you don’t have room to talk,” leon said, organizing his caddy.
chris frowned. “what does that mean?”
leon turned around, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. he eyed chris up and down.
“my hair’s healthier. my hands are softer,” he smirked. “and I dress better than you.”
chris looked at himself in the mirror. “this shirt’s fine,” he said firmly.
“shirt from ten years ago?”
“it’s cotton.”
leon chuckled beneath his breath.
“you know…jill might like it if you put in a little effort.”
that caught chris’s attention. “...you think so?”
“yeah,” leon shrugged. “my girl gives me something to look at, I might as well do the same.”
chris rubbed the back of his neck. “pass me the serum,” he said.
Leon wanting you to get your nails done and you think he's gonna drop you off at the salon but he ends up walking in with you bcuz he likes the fancy pedicures where they wrap wax around his legs
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I feel like starfish are one of those animals that are treated as very “normal” by people but absolutely shouldn’t be. Like they’re a wheel of repeating heads connected by a central stomach. They walk around using thousands of tiny sticky hydraulically powered tentacles. They have an eye on the end of each arm. Instead of having a mouth they just have an opening where their entire stomach can be pushed out to engulf prey. And they’re just allowed to exist like this. It’s not illegal or anything.
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