Like the Moon

and the truth is that the team was playing against someone ilya and/or shane ESPECIALLY hates, which means shane was dropping the most vicious, lethal reads known to man and making ilya crack tf up to the point that they were attracting attention and the coach was just afraid of someone reading lips and getting them all in trouble

and signficantly, the three person buffer between them just keeps shane from SAYING his comments

But I feel like this is the point of connection that gets Shane to actually accept Troy as a guy he can vibe with. They make the mistake of putting Troy as one of the guys in between Shane and Ilya only for Shane to keep muttering things and Troy to pick right up where Ilya left off on dragging people. Troy may have been a homophobic menace for a while but not he’s a homosexual menace and Shane can very much so get down with that. Ilya has almost as much fun listening to them banter as joining in.

It's rude. You're making someone take their time to read something you couldn't bother to write. You're telling them they were so unimportant you couldn't be bothered to actually take the time to say something yourself. And frankly, you're lying about it while you're at it.

but idk

this is alexandrias melon (wow)

it never grows seeds but it can still produce other melons (its magic)

it is grown deep in the jungles of peru and can prevent you from aging well into the hundreds

it is known by the natives there as k’uhul ajaw cacao shi-jiiy.

This is the Peppermeloni. (seriously gosh just look at that sexy mother fucker) Its scientific name is Tumblrous Pepperonus.

The only known specimen is in a pot in David Karps treasure dungeon. It is a tradition that a single slice is given to every tumblr blog that reaches 500,000 followers.

It has the remarkable property of being as healthy as watermelon but tasting like cheesy pepperoni pizza.

Patrickmelon

This is the evermelon.

Nobody was behind me in line, which seemed to be a good reason for her to treat me to a five minute retelling of the identification, rescue, and argument over initial custody of Kit Kat, who was so small they thought when they first heard him crying for help that he was a bird and not a kitten in a tree, and is now fifteen pounds of "pure, sculpted lardass".

And I didn't mind, precisely, I wasn't bored or anything, but around the time she was bringing me up to speed on Kit Kat's current status it occurred to me that this woman is a cashier in a store that primarily sells candy bars and beverages. People must buy Kit Kat bars from her multiple times a day. Does she do this every time there's nobody in line behind the purchaser? Did I just have that I Own Several Cats And Will Enjoy Your Cat Stories look about me? Was it the first time it occurred to her that she sold the brand of candy bar she named her cat after? Was she new to the job of selling Kit Kat bars?

I was in the same snack shop, which I'm in, like, once a month, recently. I only recognized her because I spent five minutes listening to this monologue in sincere wonder. But I did recognize her, so as I was buying a soda and a Milky Way bar (this time) I said, without thinking about how this would come across, "Hey, how's Kit Kat?"

She looked genuinely horrified and said, "What...how?"

"Oh fuck!" I blurted. "Sorry! You told me about him last time!"

This is still quite cryptic as responses go but she gave me a frankly frantic look of sudden recognition and said, "He's fine! You bought a Kit Kat! I was unmedicated!"

I did not inform her she is small town famous on Tumblr and instead just said, "Glad you're both doing well!" and we parted as confused and mortified friends.

-

It's not hate – we're scared and frustrated. Not just for ourselves, because AI is a genuine threat to our livelihoods, but also for the next generation of writers, like you. It's going to be a lot harder to get discovered or published with AI-generated content flooding the Internet and the book market.

Earlier this year, it was revealed that Meta trained Llama 3 on a massive body of pirated work. You can read more about it here. Meta employees knew this was morally wrong, but they did it anyway, because (1) they didn't want to pay anyone for the use of copyrighted work, and (2) they knew they could get away with it, and they have. They took our stories, born of real human experiences, and used them to feed something that's designed to be able to replace us. There are other reasons writers may be anti-AI, like the impact on the environment, but hopefully that gives you some context for why writers, specifically, are reacting to this so strongly.

You've said you wouldn't use ChatGPT to write your novel, which is great to hear. If you did, I would tell you that you weren't, in my opinion, a writer – just as I would never claim to be an artist if I used ChatGPT to create images, or a musician if I used it to generate a song. But I would also gently question why you feel like you need it to give you morale boosters or tell you if something makes sense. ChatGPT is not a human reader; unless you specifically instruct it not to flatter you, it will say what you want to hear. It isn't reacting to you, or to your story, with a human gut or a human heart. To me, any praise or encouragement it offers is empty. There's nobody and nothing behind it.

As for asking it to help you work out if something makes sense: I really do understand the temptation. I'm chronically ill, so I write at a slower pace than a lot of my colleagues, and it might help me churn out books faster if I asked ChatGPT to help me unpick a knot in the narrative, or fix a plot hole. But I don't want to surrender the ability to think and problem-solve for myself, and I would caution you against doing that – not just for the sake of your writing, but for everyday life. In this era of disinformation and propaganda, our ability to think, interrogate and analyse the world around us is more important than ever.

Talk to other writers. Make friends. It's not rocket science, it's what a human being is wired to do. Just be kind and friendly and interested in other people and their writing, and they'll be interested in you and yours. And then if you can't figure it out, ASK FOR HELP. There is NOTHING wrong with asking for help. Asking for help is, in fact, a beautiful thing that will bring you closer together with a new friend. That's what you're sacrificing when you turn to ChatGPT for it -- you're losing out on the possibility of making a really profound, lasting, potentially lifetime friendship with another human being. You're missing out on something sacred and beautiful because you're impatient and scared and insecure.

Insecurity doesn't just vanish automatically. You have to file it down gradually over time, like filing your nails or sanding a piece of wood butter-smooth. You can do it. It is WORTH doing. It just takes some elbow grease.

already suggested a

sapphibbatical

7 years ago someone posted this-

And 5 years a different user posted this-

Because it is confusing. It would almost feel easier if there was no love there at all. But sometimes there was love. In the way they tried to protect you. In the sacrifices they made. In the ways they worried about you, cared for you, wanted a good life for you.

And at the same time, there were still things missing.

Maybe comfort did not come in the way you needed it to. Maybe your feelings were not always understood, or noticed, or handled gently. Maybe you learned to keep certain parts of yourself quiet because it felt easier than trying to explain them.

That kind of hurt is difficult because it does not always come from cruelty. Sometimes it comes from people who loved you deeply, but did not know how to emotionally connect in the ways you needed. People carrying their own wounds, limitations, fears, or ways of surviving.

And you are allowed to acknowledge both truths at once.

You are allowed to recognize their love and still grieve what you needed but did not receive. Those things do not cancel each other out.

Forgiveness, for a lot of people, is not pretending nothing hurt you. It is slowly accepting that someone can love you and still fall short of understanding you completely.

That does not make your pain dramatic. It does not make them monsters either. Sometimes it just means everyone was trying with the emotional tools they had, and some of those tools were not enough.

And I think many people quietly carry guilt for still feeling hurt by parents they know tried their best. But being loved imperfectly can still leave wounds. It makes sense that it affected you.

At the same time, you do not have to stay trapped only in anger forever either. Sometimes healing looks like understanding that your parents were human before they were parents. People shaped by their own experiences, their own upbringing, their own emotional gaps.

That understanding does not erase your feelings. It just softens the sharp edges around them a little.

You deserved emotional safety. You deserved gentleness. You deserved to feel understood, comforted, and emotionally close to the people raising you.

And if they could not fully give that to you, it is okay to mourn it.

But I hope you also know this: the love you needed is still something you can experience in your life. Through other people. Through chosen family. Through the way you learn to treat yourself now.

The story does not end at what you did or did not receive growing up.

anyway i wanted a memento of my first pride, you know, and this one vendor was selling keyrings, and i liked it, so i bought one. do you remember those italian charm bracelets that were all the rage like 10-15 years ago? it was a keychain like that, and it had a rainbow rooster, a rainbow cat, and then just a rainbow, and so I bought it.

i run into my mom a couple of vendors over and she goes oh you bought something? what’d you get? so i showed her, and i was like, “I’m not sure why it’s a rooster and a cat. Seems kind of random. But I liked the rainbows.”

and my mom, who was some form of minister’s wife for most of my childhood and teenagerhood, stares at me like she thinks i’m joking.

“What?” i say.

…relic…

“Aw, you know, they expected we’d kill each other. It’s a long way to Tau Ceti.”

“Long way to Erid now. No kill me, please! - Is joke. Am too strong for you.”

“Heh. Yeah you are. Don’t wanna kill you, anyway. I’m - really glad you’re here.”

“Glad too. Mm. Need word.”

“For?”

“Gives good feeling.”

“Like. You like it.”

“Rocky like Grace.”

“Oh. Oh, I like you too, Rock.”

***

“Grace is tired.”

“'m ok, bud. Wanna do a couple more calculations now we’re past the asteroid belt, make sure Mary has our new trajectory nailed down.”

“Ship puts nails in flight path, question?”

“Earth saying.”

“Grace is yawning. All teeth, open throat, look scary. Many times now. Math will be wrong.”

“Yeah, fine, maybe I am tired. What about a movie before bed? You, me, laptop?”

“Watch Atlantis with explorer Thatch.”

“Third time! You really like that one.”

“Is good movie...Grace say ‘like’ for self and for movie. Is too soft word. Need stronger one.”

“Ah. Um. Stronger?”

“Feeling stronger for person. Grace is important.”

“R-respect? Person you take seriously.”

“Rocky feel respect for Grace. Come rest, give respect to brain.”

“Ha. Well. I respect you too, um, a lot, really.”

“Is very good. Show Milo Thatch go on adventure, find friend, get brave.”

***

“Exosuit will be finished soon. Then I can help you like Earth crew would. Help you get better.”

“You help me plenty. I'm just mopey. Um. Homesick, not actually sick. Not your fault.”

“Is actually sick. Thinking machine says humans social animals, need pack, get sick like this when they are not touched. You need hugs and cuddles. Exosuit will make me better crewmate.”

“You’ve always been the best crewmate. You know, I respected my crew, and I guess they respected me, but I never felt I belonged with them. I remember that now. I liked them, but I was lonely with them. Not like with you. ”

“Respect does not mean belonging, question?”

“No – um, no, not really. Means you give weight to what they say, who they are.”

“You don’t have weight. You are light like hatchling.”

“No, that’s – Hey.”

“Teasing you.”

“Yeah, got that. I’m a hatchling?”

“I could lift you, one hand, easy. You are baby. Need new word.”

“For?”

“Person you feel strongly for. More than respect. Belong together. Good to travel a long time together. Still know they are kind when they tease. Feel better with them near.”

“That’s – that’s trust. That’s – yeah.”

“Yes, Rocky trust Grace.”

“Thank you. Um.”

“Finish this exosuit, pick you up in one hand, okay. Show you are baby.”

“Fine. Fine, I trust you too. You finish that thing and you can throw me around all you want.”

***

“So. You like your house?”

“Oh, my God, Rocky. This – this is incredible.”

“The door is good?”

“I really like the door, bud.”

“The bed is too soft?”

“No, it’s great. I know it’s not how you guys sleep, not firm enough to perch properly on, but soft is heaven for sleepy humans.”

“Good, good. Come in here. Surprise! Sprouts from the ship growing in the ‘sunroom.’ Shaped like the don’t go crazy room, huh? But the plants are real this time, see?”

“God, they’re real. This is real. This is – tell Adrian, tell everyone, top-notch human habitat. Incredible choices. You even brought Armando.”

“Good good good. We worried – you might not feel at home here.”

“You really were worried, huh? C’mere, fist bump. Of course I feel at home. Nobody ever worked this hard to set up a habitat for me. Man, and I used to wish Earth hadn’t trusted me so much. Never ever thought I’d make it like this. If five-year-old Grace could see me now! I live in space in a space house and my best friends are space aliens!”

“You are our best alien friend. But you say trust. Earth ‘trusted’ you?”

“Crazy, isn’t it?”

“But they sent you away. They can ‘trust’ and still force you to go?”

“Yeah. Yeah, if the job needs doing.”

“Mm. Hate that. Need a word.”

“What kind of word?”

“Something more than trust. Would not send you away. Would keep you close as long as you are happy. Would feel what you feel – would feel everything together.”

“Love. That’s – love.”

“Rocky love Grace.”

“Oh. O-oh.”

“Love, love, love Grace. Grace – you are crying? You are okay?”

“I’m good, Rock. I’m so good.”

“Love you. Always love. Could hug if you would sit down. Too soft to hug standing – will knock you over. No stronger than a hatchling. Yes, good, thank you. Hugs make you cry more?”

“Make me this happy, pal, that’s just how it goes. I’m going to sit here and cry on your shiny little exosuit, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Could pick you up with one hand.”

“But you won’t. You’ll let me cry all over you. Because you love me.”

“Leaky human.”

#it’s love. it’s always love

@eclipseyeger thank you!! I got you! Here (X)