not at all thinking about how harry used to get so out of breath on stage that he had trouble singing and someone probably told him he could fix it with cardio and that snowballed into being obsessed with perfecting his physique so he can run 5k on stage every night and never ever has to catch his breath like before and i just want to tell him it's okay he can catch his breath i'll still listen
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The way that Dariax is the only one to end up alone at the end of this.
Opal has Fy'ra; they have their deities. Morrighan has Cyrus's soul for a moment and a Matron for a lifetime. Dorian has the Bells Hells once more. But Dariax... for a while, at least, Dariax will have no one.
And it's in the way that Dariax won't realize at first that he's been abandoned.
Maybe he'll think he lost track of time. He'll go traipsing through town, asking about a handsome blue bard, trying to figure out what inn they must've agreed to meet back at for the night. Because they must have, right?
The night grows dark, and still no sign. He'll get sick with worry. He knows he's thick, but surely he would've noticed if something happened, right? He would've known if Dorian was in danger?
And then... I don't know what's worse from there.
What story does he tell himself, in the end?
That Dorian blames him for not being able to save his brother? No, no, Dorian was taken—because he would never have abandoned him, not when they were all the two of them had left?
Dariax has always known he was a lot to handle. He's been told how exhausting he can be. He knows he has never been worth sticking around for.
But he thought—
—he thought that maybe he'd done it right this time. That maybe someone would stay.
Eventually, Dariax stops looking. He greets isolation like an old friend.
He plays his new lute to fill the lonely silence, and it does not help.
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Can't wait to see modern day Sun Jae, K-pop idol at the peak of his popularity and the world at his feet, revert back to his hot mess loser self once Sol comes back into his life, like some sort of insane comet of longing and awkwardness.
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sure you need to exercise and sleep and eat well. but gyns, you really, really, really need to de-stress as much as possible. if that means deleting your social media, or regulating/restricting it severely, or cutting off idk how many other toxic relationships you need to get on that. you need to find or build a healthy community. that is an integral part of your health.
it is toxic to your body to be bombarded by horrifying news each morning you log onto your phone. it is toxic to your body to be in constant hypervigilance. it is toxic to your body to be hyper-aware of all the awful things that are happening or could happen. your brain should not be in constant hypervigilance.
if you want to do activism, it needs to become less reactive and more strategic. meaning, no replying to ugly comments. read a feminist book instead, donate to feminist organizations instead. you don't have to stay in radfem IG, twitter, tumblr, reddit or whatever to continue being feminist. yes, perhaps these are the only places you can access feminist community where you're at right now, but even then, you've got to get in control of it.
cut off the males in your life that leech your energy, whether mental or otherwise. stop negotiating about it. it doesn't have to be a dramatic bridge-burning. you could just disengage. (this applies to your mother or any other codependent relationship) remain friendly without being a friend. even toxic female friendships. if your negative friendships outweigh your positive ones, you have serious house cleaning to do. because those are affecting your health.
put more energy into making positive connections (they do not have to be deep or dedicated, just positive) with the women around you. the woman who works at the pharmacy, or the plumber, idk. just foster positive attitudes with the people around you.
and de-stress, de-stress, de-stress. practice mindfulness, keep a clean gut, sleep better. this is your life we're talking about.
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one of my favorite things about pride and prejudice is that in the last third of the book Elizabeth’s internal monologue about Darcy is her admitting that she’s in love with him but also putting all sorts of qualifications around that statement that kind of ...tamp down the level of emotion (the “feelings, if not as tender as Jane’s for Bingley, at least as just” line, even the whole thing about her and Darcy being well-matched objectively speaking) and as soon as she’s engaged you get the unbridled joy in the narrative about her own joy, cc: “I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh.”
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