#but this pandemic has really fucked me up and how i view myself and my potential
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high infidelity | twenty five
You’re the king baby, I’m your queen.
*Noah’s POV*
“So where are you taking me?”
I looked over at Ellie and just smirked, not daring to tell her where we were going. I kept my eyes on her for a little longer than I expected, I couldn’t help myself. She had her hair in a sleeked back ponytail, black ripped skinny jeans, white tank top and her signature checkered vans. The past 24 hours with her have been absolute heaven. My home has been such a safe space for me and having her in it made it feel complete finally. She was so patient and understanding with me last night and I felt like a huge weight had been lifted. Sex with her felt like a drug I wanted to use for the rest of my life. Between last night, this morning and fucking her quickly in the shower before we left the house, I still couldn’t get enough of her right now.
“I’m not telling you.” I replied as I backed out of my driveway and headed down the street. She crossed her arms and I could feel her eyes on me.
“Great, I’m gonna end up on the news. Newsflash, Canadian women missing in the Hollywood Hills.”
I was having a hard time holding my laughter back at how dramatic she was being, “do you really think I’m taking you somewhere to murder you?”
“I don’t know, Noah Sebastian…are you?” She sarcastically replied.
“Ok fine, I’ll ruin the surprise. I wanted to order from my favourite sushi place, and take you to my favourite spot in the city to have a little picnic. I figured since most of our time has been taken up with my shows, we deserved another quiet night together before you leave.”
She leaned over the console and kissed my cheek, almost making me run through a red light.“That sounds great. I’m sorry for accusing you of murder.”
“I am capable of it but I’ll save it for another day.” I winked. She just rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand as she looked out the window. I felt my heart skip a beat over how happy I was feeling right now. The windows were down, music was playing, and the sun was shining, making Ellie’s dark hair shine. I don’t think it could get better than this.
We left the restaurant with enough sushi to feed an army and headed over to White Point beach. This place was so special to me for so many reasons. I got a lot of my writing for the death of peace of mind done here and it was just my escape from the pandemic. It was the one place I actually felt my nervous system calm down. I’ve tried chasing that feeling elsewhere and honestly, I never found it until I met Ellie.
“Wow…Noah.” Ellie paused, putting her hand over her mouth as she admired the view in front of her. I wasn’t sure what her reaction would be since she was also surrounded by beaches and mountains at home but she still looked awestruck. The beach had a hill that towered over everything, giving you the perfect view of the ocean and an even better view of the sunset.
“This is my hiding spot.” I replied turning off the car and locking my fingers with Ellie’s. “I’ve never shown anyone this spot. This place has given me more peace than therapy ever has. I just wanted to show you it cause … well because you give me the feeling this place does.”
“Noah…” She whispered as tears filled her eyes. She took her seatbelt off and grabbed me by the back of my neck, guiding me to kiss her. I pressed my mouth to hers, wrapping my hand around her throat the longer we kissed. The kisses were so soft and gentle, giving me time to taste the strawberry flavour from Ellie’s lip gloss. We pulled away and she smiled so sweetly at me, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. I just sighed deeply, this girl was something else.
I came prepared and grabbed blankets, a cooler and hoodies out of the trunk before we headed over to the beach. Ellie raised her eyebrows at me as I walked past her and found my normal spot was free. I laid the blanket down, Ellie put our food down and sat beside me. I pulled out two white claws, giving one to her as we dove into our food.
“Who knew you were such a romantic.” Ellie smiled before taking a bite of her sushi. “This is better than any expensive restaurant.”
“Good, I’m glad.” I replied, not taking my eyes off her. “That’s one of the biggest reasons why I love you.”
She face flushed a little as she met my gaze, “what do you mean?”
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that, you’re probably the first woman I’ve ever won over by being myself. You don’t have unrealistic expectations because of who I am, so I never felt like I needed to hide behind a mask.” I stuttered a little near the end, I was trying to tread lightly and not offend her by any means.
“Noah, I fell for you because of your heart, and who are you are as a person off stage. Your band, your success, any money you make from all this comes secondary. Sure I met you because of your band but in another life if I just met you on the street and didn’t know who you were, I’d still be here ridiculously in love with you.”
“Ridiculously huh?” I joked, nudging her arm. She smiled at me as I got closer to her, caressing her cheek and kissing her again. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to be all over her right now. Not even in a sexual way, just affectionally. My heart felt like it was going to burst because of her.
“I love you Ellie.”
“I love you more.”
After we finished our food, we got cozy and watched the sunset together. The sky was so beautiful and reminded me of cotton candy with the shades of pink and blue. Ellie was nuzzled against my chest, listening to the sounds of seagulls in the distance along with the sound of each other’s heartbeats. I didn’t want this night to be over. The sun began to disappear and the sky glowed a dark blue, all I could see was Ellie’s bright eyes piercing through the darkness. As we got to the car, my phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, it was Jolly.
“Hey man, we’re thinking of hitting up the pier in 30. Last night for Matt, both Nicks and Bryan in town. You two want to come?”
“Hey Ellie do you want to head to the pier?”
She just nods, polishing off her white claw before getting into the car. I pouted a little bit hoping she’d just want to go home, but this could be fun as well. I should also be thankful my friends love her as much as I do and want to include her in things. Before I got in the car I went to text Jolly back but I opened my conversation to Nick, taking a deep breath before I started typing.
“I wanna marry this girl.”
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Personal Vent: The Internet Has Just Been Sadder Lately
A lot has been on my mind lately about the landscape of the internet in my view. A lot of it stems from me looking back at the past and how it contrasts with how I experience the internet today and if you know me for anything, it's that I fucking hate looking back at the past. My actions & inactions? Shit. Terrible. Fuck me as a young, stupid, naive human being. How other people have treated me? Varies completely across the range from some of the most kind-hearted & generous people I've ever met to people who know nothing more than complete spite, hatred & villainy. The overall landscape itself? I couldn't tell you the difference between wholeheartedly welcoming communities and people who are more than ready to shoot you down, dismiss you or think of you as lesser than them, outside of their superiority & elitist cliques.
I guess the reason why I title this post after the whole internet being sadder lately is sheerly & solely due to the fact that I am seeing it all now more than ever. I am looking back at over a decade of me exploring & investing myself in this overall online space and I am using the detriment of hindsight to realise just how toxic it all can be.
Some of y'all are too fucking good for the internet in its current state. Twitter is now a radioactive wasteland that everybody dreads being stuck in and finding no way out. Me and some of the people I know close to me are lucky enough as we are, but if you're looking for clean, spotless, perfect alternatives, then just give up now & settle for the fourth best thing. Not that one. No, not that one either, that's got cryptobros involved. No, that one's not secure either.
Oh my god, Twitter used to be such an okay place. There used to be these memes like "mutuals, like this post and I'll send an anonymous compliment" or "hey, look at this fun chart or joke I just made" or some bullshit like that; It was bullshit but it was fun! I used to have so many fun & insightful conversations in replies & direct messages that in hindsight were not all that fun or insightful at all and we were all just dumb & stupid. Now a third of those people are inactive or just gone from the face of the earth, another quarter are moving on to other platforms I don't even wanna be on, another third of them are still with me on the platforms I've moved on to and yet they are equally as drained of their enthusiasm & happiness as I am and the remaining twelfth, bless them all, they are still young, vibrant, happy & full of energy and I'm so happy to see them in my life, but they feel so much smaller altogether than they used to feel in the grand scheme of this fucking world wide web.
Then there's just the fact that the world itself is in a far worse state than it was exactly five years ago! In 2019, we did not have the coronavirus pandemic, we did not have wars mercilessly killing several thousand Ukranian or Palestinian civillians for no real fucking reason, we did not have billionaires being as loudly shitty as they have been lately, we sure had abhorrant & hateful right-wing influencers & political figures, but they're not swarming in droves like they have been lately and we're seeing more hatred, abuse, violence, negligence & dismissal worldwide in the public than ever before.
And now there's an extra layer to all of this that I really don't want to blame on fellow zoomers and the coming gen alpha, but I'm seeing a lot of people take in the communities they're joining at face value, seeing the toxic, negative energies & events they were known for in the past that were really powerful five years ago and that we're really trying to move past from today, and they're just getting ready to absorb that energy and unleash it onto others when even the slightest wrongdoing is noticeably committed. I have never felt this unsafe joining & frequenting other communities since either 2018 or 2020 and I've had to resort to making my own community / friend server multiple times even though it still makes me feel like I'm trapped in my own bubble these days. (Join LikesMusic, link in pinned post.)
After writing all of that, I just don't have a hopeful conclusion here. I am very well aware that it always gets worse before it gets better, but everything has just been much worse & worse & worse the more time passes on and the littlest betterments are thankfully present, but I'm still waiting for a point where we all just begin to soar and learn from how bad all of this has gotten and how we can just be fucking good again. I hope that one day, I can just walk into a community, immediately feel welcome & unintimidated and just grow into it organically like I used to almost a decade ago. I am hopeful for all of that, but I don't have that much hope at this current point in time. (Not to mention my body has been feeling like shit the past several weeks.)
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omg i just realised you're in law school?? can i ask what prompted you to pursue a (i presume) 2nd degree? i am nearing 30 and considering going for a 2nd degree as well but i'm super reluctant haha, would you mind sharing something about your experience? are you doing like a master's, did you choose it to get a specific job you are aiming for?
Ah, I would be happy to talk about my questionable life choices lol! For law school in the US if you want to actually practice you get what's called a Juris Doctor (JD) degree, which is a professional degree, and you have to have completed a Bachelor's to pursue it. People who want to like, specialize in something will sometimes get an LLM (Master of Law), but generally do that after the JD, even though a JD is technically "higher" than a Master's. Absurdly long story of my Journey TM under the cut lol
I tell people law school was a response to the pandemic even though that's not really true bc I don't want to get into the years-long insane series of thought processes that led me here lol. I only have a Bachelor's degree (in German/Music) and never intended to pursue anything beyond that. I'm naturally intelligent and did very well in school without trying, but I never had any particular interest in pursuing a higher education and pretty much just did it because that's what you're supposed to do. Looking back I feel quite embarrassed that I didn't fully appreciate the value of my education, even though I obviously wasn't doing it on purpose LOL. I got a lot of value out of college in general but it's frankly amazing that I did fine in my classes given my general self at the time. Fortunately I went to one of those schools where ppl hear the name and go oooOoooo woOOooOOow and don't generally care about my mediocre GPA.
I never really had a clear idea of what I wanted to do with my life, and I don't feel I'm one of those people who has a Calling TM. I'm good at and enjoy a variety of things, and I have a hard time being happy doing the same thing for a long period of time. I worked as a professional actor/singer when I graduated, and even within that field I became unhappy when I did too much of the same kind of work. Ultimately, as I grew into myself, I became frustrated and disillusioned with the industry in general, and with how I was being forced to live my life. I so rarely got to do anything I genuinely enjoyed, the work that paid best was utterly soul-sucking, and the general attitudes of the people around me esp. towards maintaining one's appearance were very unhealthy for me. They're unhealthy for everyone of course, but I was trying to recover from viewing my body in a negative light, and being around ppl with these attitudes made it pretty much impossible.
So I was already sort of looking for a new path of some sort a few years ago, but what I didn't realize at the time was that I had completely lost faith in myself and my abilities, and was selling myself incredibly short. I tried to do a bunch of dumb shit which obviously wouldn't be fulfilling in any way, tried to reshape my life into something bearable, and failed miserably several times. I was in fact halfway through discarding another failed attempt and taking up a new one when the pandemic hit. I ended up having to move back in with my mother, and what we all hoped would be a couple of months turned into Whatever This Is. So I found myself with a lot of time to think lol. And while it was a very difficult experience, I kept telling myself, whatever you do, no matter how bad it is, you need to actually think ahead for five fucking seconds and try to do something that will actually work, you know lol, because otherwise you're just going to end up in the same place again.
Law school started as a whim like any other; I was having lunch with my mom, and she mentioned offhand that she thought I should go to law school (she didn't go but she has a lot of lawyer friends). And I was feeling just insane enough that day that I was like yeah idk maybe I should. So I went home and was like okay how does one go to law school. I looked up a practice LSAT, took it knowing absolutely nothing about the LSAT, and did EXTREMELY well. So I thought, well. Huh. I need something to do w my life so I stop wanting to eat drywall, why not study for the LSAT lol, can't hurt.
And it just sort of kept going from there. Practicing for the LSAT gave me a sense of purpose, applying to law schools gave me a sense of purpose, and that sense of purpose enabled me to start slowly improving the horrible circumstances I was in. I didn't know how anything would shake out and to be honest I didn't particularly care at that point. Looking back I think I really had no hope for the future, and I was pretty crazy and didn't really feel like I'd be able to live very much longer. I didn't envision myself as a lawyer really, more as a law student lol. Schools have a lot of free resources and people who want to help you, and even as crazy as I was I felt I was in a much better place to take full advantage of those things than I had been in undergrad, in order to achieve SOMETHING. I wasn't really worried about what that might be.
So, I vowed to myself that whatever happened, I would really try, not just in school but to build a better future for myself. I did not arrive here in a good mental state, to say the least lol. And going back to school brought back a LOT of painful memories from my previous time in school when, as I mentioned, I was infinitely crazier. As just a couple of random examples, I was sort of toying with the idea of trying to learn a new language, and realized that I was still holding onto this intense guilt about the mental breakdown I had while taking a Russian class in college. One of my professors told me that I was an amazing writer, and I realized no teacher had ever told me that before. I had these insane moments sitting in class where I would get emotional because I was just so happy to be there, in spite of absolutely everything. I stopped regretting all of my past mistakes, because I genuinely think, no matter what horrible things I've done, I would do them all again if they would bring me here. My favorite professor literally saved my life, and is probably the only person in the world who could have successfully convinced me to go to therapy. I can't really even wish I'd done any of this sooner, because I know without a doubt that I wouldn't have been ready.
There are definitely some challenges to being back in school after so long. I remember feeling especially when I was around my friends who were in grad school that if I had to, like, write a long-ass paper or something, I just wouldn't be able to do it lol, like I'd just be so pissed that I had to do some arbitrary assignment. But it should be noted that I, like, despise philosophy-type subjects and things with no practical application, and always felt like I was bullshitting my assignments to make them longer. Not only do I love law school assignments because they are about applying the law to a set of facts (which may be made up but still have real-world relevance), but I always have a LOT to say, and am always struggling to make my papers SHORT enough rather than dragging out my dumbass takes to meet the minimum lol. It's a lot of work, but generally it's work I actually WANT to do, which makes all the difference.
I definitely also feel a bit of a disconnect from most of my fellow students. I think this is partially an age thing and partially a life experience thing. Like, for example, I had a series of hilarious conversations with ppl a few weeks back bc one of my classmates was like "where do you go?? you leave class so fast?" and i was like ?????? when class is over you get to leave that's the deal??????
And I was talking to my fave professor about this and she was like yeah that's definitely a difference of being a little older, you're probably just not in the same mindset that they are. Which is definitely true, and worth keeping in mind. It's not a big deal really but it can be very isolating if you don't feel like you can relate to your classmates on that level. I sometimes get a little :( because I don't usually have a hard time talking to people but I'll just have the most insane interactions w some of my classmates and have to talk myself down like it's okay it wasn't you the other person was the one acting weird LOL. Also, for me at least, I definitely have a little bit of a 'you can't tell me what to fucking do' attitude sometimes LOL, and will get really irritated when professors keep us over time or make us do something pointless. That may just be my sweet personality, but I think in general having been out of school for awhile and also being a bit older, I'm MUCH less tolerant of trifling bullshit than when i was younger LOL. Generally I think there's a lot LESS trifling bullshit to deal with in law school bc there's just so much that's genuinely important to learn? But something to keep in mind.
But god there are SO many benefits! Like, as I mentioned, I'm a naturally intelligent person, but it's actually terrifying how much my mind had slowed down over the past few years. I've had SO many moments here where I was like oh my god, I'm stupid, I'm just stupid and I can't understand this-- and then I was like okay sweaty :) have you considered taking a nap and maybe you'll calm down :) lol but you get my point. Learning new things in a structured environment where you literally have to do the work I think is so beneficial especially at this particular age, since most people get pretty settled into their ways around 30, and personally I don't particularly like being set in my ways and want to always be growing and improving and pushing myself. Every aspect of my life has improved noticeably since I've been here, my physical and emotional and mental health, my memory, my writing, my personal relationships--everything.
BUT that is a direct result of all the work I've put in, because I did this at the right time for myself, and at a point in my life when I'm able to truly appreciate the value of a good education and all the benefits and resources that come with that. So, I would say that if you're in the right mindset to go back to school, it's absolutely 1000% worth it. But if you feel like, 'I don't want to do this, this is a waste of time and will make me miserable,' then I'd say wait it out a little more. There might come a day when you're like, wow, I'm so ready. Or you might think, I can't believe I was gonna go to grad school for That TM that would have been insane, and want to go for something else lol. I think we're so conditioned not to listen to our intuition that we don't realize a lot of the time our gut instinct will tell us whether something is the right move or not!
Wow this was long lol, thank you so much for reaching out, friend, and I hope some of this was mildly helpful or entertaining! I wish you the best in your ventures, and of course I'm always happy to talk more!
#personal#exciting tag for answered asks#i write this as i'm actively procrastinating my work lol#but it's spring break i'm allowed#grad school nonsense
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I just want to thank you for writing FFS. As someone with a lot of trauma hangups (and is coincidentally american which means therapy is often out of my reach), this story has done so much to help me understand myself. Most importantly it's given me a view of a healthy, intimate, sensual asexual relationship is like. For a long time I've internalized the idea that nonsexual relationships were lacking or not as worthy, and having an ace writer write ace intimacy is... enlightening. So thank you.
Hi hi,
I ended up going on a ramble about how much mental health sucks just about everywhere so I'm putting the rest of this under a cut/read more.
Therapy is so hard for so many people to access, and it really sucks, and I'm so sorry. Even here, the majority of people don't have private health insurance because of socialised welfare, but socialised welfare doesn't cover dental and it doesn't cover mental health, meaning that the vast majority of people have to pay $200-650 outright per session (psychologists at the lower end and psychiatrists at the upper end) to access therapy at all. Accessibility is a huge issue, because almost no one can afford private health insurance since here it's not offered through your workplace, and you can't get it through a 'family plan' offered by a work place 99.9999% of the time. Even working through the government doesn't entitle someone to access to private health cover of any kind.
And it's not a problem if you have cancer or need surgery - those things will be treated for free, which is incredible and amazing and frankly should be the norm. But if you have mental health issues, you're just really fucked (there is a plan which lets you access discounted sessions, but the discount often still leaves you hugely out of pocket, and it only lasts a limited amount each year, so if you need weekly therapy for a year - which is not that abnormal for serious anxiety or depression - you're screwed).
It's the ugly side of socialised welfare that doesn't cover mental health or mental health treatments. Almost all of my disability pension goes towards therapy appointments, and anything leftover goes towards food. Everything else (i.e. writing income) goes towards living in this house, clothing, food, and other medical bills when they come up. Together with their powers combined, I still don't make the equivalent of a yearly minimum salary/wage in Australia.
Anyway, a long ramble, but the USA is sadly just one of over a hundred countries that makes it incredibly hard to access therapy and mental healthcare. :( It kind of sucks, especially in a world with the pandemic basically being a global trauma and increasing mental illness/es everywhere.
I thought it was important to shine a light on how things can be even in countries with 'free healthcare.' It's never really free for mental health in most places. And it's worse in some. The USA at least believes in and treats adult ADHD for example (though the cost is prohibitive and they make it as hard as possible), there are plenty of countries in Europe that don't even believe in adult ADHD and millions of people who will never - even with access to therapy (which most don't have) - get access to ADHD meds as a result. Having to leave your country just to get diagnosed and still not having access to meds is like... :( But the USA making all health so prohibitively expensive is frankly evil and borderline 'let's just kill all the poor people who happen to be overwhelmingly queer, POC or disabled.' The fascism burns.
In light of all of that, my story is such a tiny drop in an ocean. I'm glad it could give you something of (fictional, wish-fulfilment) therapy. It's not often like that, but I think it's close enough that people who've had therapy have recognised something useful in it, so I'm glad it could offer something.
As to the ace representation, that matters to me a lot. There's definitely so many different ways to be ace, and have ace relationships, they can be as flexible and as different as all the allonormative relationships. Arden and Efnisien having their sort of 'ace + allo person in an open relationship' works well. There are people who are monogamous and ace and ace, or more commonly, people who are monogamous and ace + allo (with many aces who just...have sex anyway, even if they don't really care about it). There are so many permutations.
And each relationship can have whatever shape works best for the people inside that relationship. It can be so hard to realise that if you've only ever been exposed to stereotypes, tropes, and never ever see yourself get represented. It took me years to unpack some of the things I'd been conditioned to believe about relationships, and much longer than I think the average person, because of the pressure media and society put on ace people to a) have sex and b) think a romantic (or aromantic) relationship with sex is more fulfilling than a romantic (or aromantic) relationship without one. Which happens to be complete and utter fucking bullshit.
But it's a long, long shadow that takes forever to unpack, and the oppression created by it can be crippling in interpersonal relationships.
Nonsexual relationships of any kind are 100% worthy, as worthy as any other kind of relationship. They deserve to have hundreds (and thousands) of television shows and movies made about them, including romantic ones. They deserve cartoons and anime and songs. We deserve to be seen regularly and often, in different permutations in different kinds of ways.
It's bigotry that stops that from happening, but hopefully as time passes, we get more and more representation. In the meantime, I'm glad AO3 is a great place to put an extremely long story about how sensual ace love is just as valid, and a nonsexual relationship is as loving as any sexual one. :)
(And I am very sorry for the lack of access to mental health assistance. I will add that while it might not be accessible, telehealth has really opened up therapy for many people, and a partner of mine is seeing a psychologist in Romania for like $50 USD per session (with the conversion rate/s, it still works out quite well in Romania too). The downside is that psychologist's recommendations won't be recognised by doctors in Australia. The upside is it's very affordable comparatively speaking, and it might be worth looking outside of your country for online therapy, because while the pandemic sucks donkey balls, the one thing it actually did was open up global / international therapy across countries in a way that wasn't really possible before. Obvs even $50 USD a session might not be affordable, in which case your issue is global and not just USA, but...it's something to think of. I wouldn't have thought of it myself, if my partner hadn't started doing it. And they're getting a lot out of it).
#asks and answers#personal#falling falling stars#i don't really know how to tag this#basically mental health oppression and then ace oppression a little bit as well#i got really distracted by the big issues#and then talking too much about falling falling stars felt really weird after that#so i just couldn't#really do that much dsalkfjasfsda
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As we enter a new year I get to think about everything that happened in the past 365 days. For sure I am not the same girl who began in 2022, so many things changed in my life but most importantly I think I changed so much, I grew and sorta find who I want to be I found my dream path in this life. I allowed myself to explore more and to, I know such a cliché, but to romanticize my life. I really lived this year as if it was a movie or a show, I appreciate every single moment and I know that's a lot of new years bullshit but I am sure this change of heart made all the difference. Sometimes I wonder why it seems so easy for so many people and yet so hard for others, but finally, I got to make peace with it. Being 26 changed so much on my view in life, I like to think it has something to do with the fact that my frontal lobe is finally fully developed, well at least I think it's a feeling I share with a lot of women my age, like the fog, is spreading and for the first time I got to see clearly, just like when I wore glasses for the first time, the bops were actually things.
Being in your 20's is so fucking weird you got friends getting married, having babies getting their big jobs with good money moving out of home, etc and on the other side of the spectrum you see friends who are lost, just bouncing from one situation from another, not knowing where the north is, avoiding at all cost turning into adults, and then there's me wondering in the middle, finally finding out what I wanna do with my life, actually working in this field professionally for a year, still figuring out the love thing cuz that's so messy I don't even know where to begin.
I used to think that by 25 you should have everything in life, the husband or wife, the degree, the house, the dog, and the car. But it turned out that didn't happen, well at least not for me, I have nothing on that list but I think it's totally ok. To be honest one thing that made me change my mind was Guillermo del Toro's speech about being 20 and how it's the most heartbreaking moment in life because you feel a ticking sound cuz it feels like by 30 you are not a successful person, whatever that means, you failed in life, when in fact you are just learning how to be an adult and let's add that we became adults in the middle of a pandemic where everything got really fucked up.
So now as we enter this new year and my 27th birthday is just four months away I am at ease trusting that the universe and God will take me where I need to go, with the people I need to meet, working hard but trusting the process I guess.
I am so excited and nervous as usual about what this new year will bring me.
Being said that the reason I came back to this corner of the internet after leaving like in 2016 ¿? is because I have this need to document my life now, it is happening so fast and I am afraid I will not have something to look back at. Two years ago I began an Instagram account that serves as my visual diary, I post a picture every day but I feel I need more, and I wanted somewhere I could scream and vent to a void where nobody will listen I guess and as nobody that I know follows me or anyone, to be honest, I think I might have some fun writing here.
-A
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alive in it
i’m burnt out.
it's not new, i've felt this but i haven't really known it. so now i have the knowledge to accept that it’s here, sapping me. it's an autistic thing. it’s a trans thing, a PTSD thing, an autoimmune thing, a work thing, a poverty thing, a pandemic thing. these things will go on because there is no support. (assistance, as it stands, comes with ever more surveillance.) the pandemic, and the pandemic as a perfect excuse for governments to rain new or continued fire on us, is taking a huge toll on everyone i care about. emotionally and physically. for others who live radically differently from me, it has smoothed over into inconvenience. and watching that from the sidelines comes with grieving too.
i always think about what my friend Jules said, that we all talk a lot about how to prevent disability ("do this, not that") but not about being presently disabled. if under capitalism we're just trying to shift how its rules affect us here and there, we can't actually work healthily-- and there is absolutely no way for a disabled person to work healthily. so we fade from view. and what then?
this is the first year where i have to really consider whether or not i can keep going.
it feels awful to say that! as though i'm throwing it in the face of everyone who has ever been (much too) kind to me. that kindness spurs me. who doesn't want affirmation, warmth, to be recognised and welcomed? i am grateful in a way where i have basically no idea how to contain it or return it in kind, it's so huge to me. i'm at a loss for words, at least creative ones. i wish i could spend more time on it. it's sometimes too much and i have to come back later. i wish i could do better and the goal is that i will.
and of course to me, it's not a question: "yes! Forever, yes! i love this! i need this!" but my body and my circumstances, specifically how my circumstances don't allow for more or faster work currently, forces me to question it. the way my work is treated, and myself as the person making it, and where i put it, and how "present" i must be--
i mean, why the fuck did i go back to work immediately following an emotionally devastating legal battle? it doesn’t feel good or victorious. it's not a new lease on life, it’s just buying time. why, in a pandemic, am i so worried about keeping up a palatable public appearance? (other than that my income relies on it?) i take a long time to talk and i have a lot to say. historically, people don’t care to hear it, so i try to read the room every time to know exactly how much to say and in what way, and even if i try to do exactly how all the real people do, there is some gross intangible quality to me that taints it and implies permission to pick it apart in bad faith or dismiss it entirely. i know it's not the fault of one thing, and it's the result of many elements coming together neatly. but i know that because i have to.
being trans and being autistic are pretty similar to each other in that regard-- you can always count on supposed allies to use one part of you to justify the other’s eradication, or, in polite conversation, their utter disinterest in your point of view or needs. because there's something too fucking weird about you! can't quite put our finger on it, but you're just kind of a little bit gross? (There are papers about the neurotypical reaction to neurodivergent people, if you want to read about it.) sorry. Love what you do for us but you are too exceptional. no one feels the way you do and it’s not enough that you feel it.
it's exhausting. it’s much easier to be quiet than risk it all. literally.
with my work being veritable outsider art, i’ve always cared much more about entertaining myself and having company. i don’t want to be lonely in it, and i care about that more than the impractical idea of making a fat stack off of comics. in this economy??
this isn’t a guilt-tripping “wah, i wish people engaged with me more.” honestly, what is engagement, anyway? “interaction.” to me this isn’t about numbers. this isn’t about clout. it isn’t about x number of y rewards. it doesn’t matter how many people, or where. it’s about watching myself sink. it’s about being treated fairly. ultimately, i think i am food. i think this because i’ve been told it. i’ve been told i’m some sort of stepping stone. that this is what being “brave” is, and people take it and run with it. i think i am a blank slate for common use. bad or good, i've only given enough to be misconstrued. if i have been brave, that’s not what’s being seen here.
these feelings are substantiated all the more when i see similar behaviour (or lack thereof) repeated in how people approach trans artists (just casting the widest net here, obvs it changes per other factors!) considering how trans people are constantly pulled apart and rewritten by the public, this should bother people much more. whether it’s our lives that are taken, our bodies and relationships examined, our housing and medical and job access litigated and limited, our histories renamed, our work uncredited, it should be unacceptable. and given that we’re spoken about with genocidal sentiment, the shit i’m concerned about really shouldn’t be the biggest concern.
but you want proof, evidence you understand, you want me to make you see things which you are, even with best intentions, fundamentally opposed to seeing. the burden is on me to be righteous and sweet in response to petty, punitive games when something far worse looms. it’s all connected, anyway. and nothing is ever good enough-- if you don't even believe i could be abused, or have/ought to have autonomy, that i could be sick or suffer (and that there is no speedy cure the way there might be for you,) that i could be the gender/s i am because of xyz... that i can or can’t be attracted to so and so... that i don’t deserve to live... that i don’t deserve to complain... what can i make you see, really? and why should i try?
i’m the type of person who naturally enjoys learning about the context for the work and stories i see/read, and i presume other people do, too. i don't like having that taken from me. i don't like feeling as though i can't talk about myself honestly, seriously and/or with levity. i worry my own interests aren’t interesting to my friends and that this is perceived as a negative quality rather than a neutral one. if i act out of line i will lose my entire income in a moment. no care, no questions.
i am proven over and over that i am worth as much as i work, that my worth is derived only from what viewers find in my work, and, naturally, they find themselves-- they don't find me there with them, nor do they want me in there with them. people say don’t interact if, and they list things about me. yet they feel exceedingly comfortable entering MY space without seeking or wanting me in it. it's strange. because i reference myself and my experiences repeatedly. i reference my body. hair, scars, big bazongas, fantasies and realities. how do i make something like that more literal than just depicting it? i reference photos of myself in an effort to love what's there. with the physical comes too the intangible framing. through presentation my work can end up divorced from the experience or labour of making it, it does feel good to know i am alive in it.
i used to think that if all the confronting and unsettling work by weirdos were to disappear, that people would look around and miss what it brought. but now i’m not actually sure if that’s true.
“representation” isn’t just being done FOR trans viewers. the trans shit that you find, that shit that really shakes and builds foundations, is BY (or at the very least was touched by) trans people. many kinds. all kinds. (who of us then is it okay to kill?)
we all come into ourselves through different means, but i think many will agree it can be a real gift to find this stuff. for me it was an early internet, sequestered but borderless. for many now, it’s mainstream media properties or platformed independent work (whatever independent means in regard to having safety nets.) but i wish that what we have now, and what we have when we look back on earlier expressions of trans/queerness, was treated with more care, more slowly. i wish the humanity of the person mattered more. i, personally, whether i like or dislike something, have a hard time extracting the person from it. they are an encapsulation of a time, conditions, qualities.
what is important art? who decides? can it just be important that i feel joy? yes, with so much suffering, large and small, it is important that i feel joy. and i derive joy from stupid bullshit and from articulating, in literal metaphors, many types of despair.
rage. vengeance. hopelessness. selfishness. terrible mistakes that hang in the air and all you can do is swallow and try again. psycho meltdowns and lashing out with displaced grief because the grief is too big, wanting it to become a hammer or a spear, something to break it. the dread and the quiet, out of body compulsions that come in the dark bathroom mirror. a violent hunger when you're denied food for being too fat, when you're asked if you can just be pretty, can you just try. wanting to become smaller and smaller to feel powerful when bigger and bigger is reviled. bigger deserves mercy killing, it's only right. fear from having your body pried apart, vivisected. wanting obsessively, tearfully to have the rage and agony fucked out of you. a thing, a monster, a "girl", a boy, a shadow. when you don't want to die-- or you do, but wish you didn't have to. the way that stubbornness sticks like useless knife. and what being property does to a person. but hey, if your aggressor thinks you're someone else, maybe then it's okay, maybe then what they do isn't really happening to you :) maybe it doesn't count. maybe you can tell yourself that enough times.
emotions and expressions that other people may find challenging, that they’ll tell you to suppress. and equally suppressed, the methods with which you regain yourself. the art i make rejects that faux-concerned suppression and it will evolve as i learn more about myself. it's important that i have a place to speak. especially a place that isn't dependent on the exact most precise words for hundreds, or thousands, or millions, or any amount of hypothetical eyes and itchy fingers.
i've always felt like art-- or at least my art, or at least, some of my art-- shouldn't be fueled by spite because spite, the emotional space and energy of it, is a resource that can be depleted. i don’t only want to make art through a single set of conditions and if i only source the one thing, i can easily find myself spent.
but sometimes i am so angry at the way art is consumed + simultaneously scrutinised with conspiratorial fervour for any potential of hidden moral failings while very real violence, at a state or corporate or even industry level, is dismissed. i hate that i was advocating for the safety of myself/my family in an unmasked courtroom in an unmasked courthouse while being painted as insane or vengeful by an active abuser-- an abuser who, legally, must know my home address.
I hate that for court i have to carefully pick which clothes might make me most empathetic from various angles. For the doctor, I have to look like I give a damn, and I guess by fretting over it, I do. If I'm going to share photos of myself, whichsometimes I do to remember I am not so far away, I better find the right lighting conditions to suspend disbelief. Don't be too fat or (after ~9 years HRT) too "in transition"-y. For court, which tone or pitch is most like a victim? Or the better question: is my natural way of speaking too stupid or mean? Which tone commands the appropriate respect? Well, I probably won't notice in time anyway.
I hate that I have to be referred to by some other name because I can't trust anyone-- certainly not the government-- to safely use the one I call myself, and I hate that I care about my name at all as a source of self-affirmation.
I hate that i need a perfect, but not too aggressively confident, memory of my own mistreatment. I hate that there's no burial site for memories of home, no ceremony i can trust to put them to rest. The present eats and dissolves the past. There is no time. (And there it is again: eating. Devouring. Gobbling it up. What an ugly and uncouth thing to do! Unless your body nourishes another.)
In the car to and from court, i find myself wondering if my art will ever play a part in this case, or a future case, and wonder if the people posting my work on hate sites will somehow play a part in this case, and wonder who, of the people currently enjoying my art, will turn on me and either recreate or align themselves with this traumatising system.
i hate that art is called "important" when it's so clearly not: it's a commodity that as a practise/purpose is devalued. it’s a Thing. it’s Candy. there is little to no education on how to receive or create it. i don’t just mean higher education. culturally, in western society, we don't prioritise the historical and modern education necessary to value art or to value workers broadly. things arrive to us ready-made and then we own them. the people who make art, even or especially people doing so-called "important" work, are treated like shit. by their bosses, by the industry, by the audience.
and so, holding out hope that the work/impact might outlast your own brief life is a magical comfort, and how tightly it's held is entirely relative to you & your community’s bleak conditions while living. maybe i will matter when i’m dead. but how is that possible if my work lasts for all of the 30 seconds that someone looks at it? how can i matter when i’m dead if some of those viewers would rather me dead now? i think about how my work might be used, or forgotten, and i don’t even have enough money to be deadnamed on my headstone.
it's like i'm crafting heavens when i think that, maybe, while i might languish and die unknown, my dirtbag pervert transsexual JPGs might outlast me. maybe someone will trace it in their notebook or something and when the automatic action is done maybe they'll try to remember what it ever meant. the trans boy fagdyke butch daddy watersports (or w/e) might not imprint on their memory-- but if they find themselves "fooled" into enjoying it, i hope they’ll have the decency not to blame me for their gift of knowledge. pleasure and comfort is not my sin.
lol: i’m thinking about what Mr. Wheatus (of the band Wheatus) said on the pod. that people are usually agonisingly aware of their own insecurities and shortcomings, and when an artist is able to point to them in a sloppy, human/humanising way, through the gauzy or challenging space of art, people love it. doing something perfectly isn't what matters, because perfect isn't relatable. some people hate seeing something close to them and some people hate seeing something far away. but i’m sick of being clean and tiptoeing around my own humanity in case someone finds it disappointing or disgusting. in real life i have no choice but to live in this body, or occupy it, and be disgusting the entire time. so if that's true then i'm sick of allowing myself to be flat and nothing for ease.
and if i am nothing: okay then! that’s exactly what i’ll give.
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Hey, tw all kinds of bad experiences you have as a fat person, diet stuff, etc, sexual violence
I grew up as a chubby kid. It is genetics but also poverty. My mom is very thin, she's been 88lb her whole life. A weight, I reached when I was in elementary school (admittedly, I am very different build, she's dainty, my shoulders killed a lot of flannels). She sent me from dietitian to dietitian from age 8 on thought the only issue was, that we had no food at home because we were so poor and the only meals I got were the ones I begged from neighbors and teachers (dietitian are free in my country for fat ppl). My dads family on the other hand, look more like me. Wide build and slightly overweight to fat. But all of them want to lose weight. Since forever. Since I was a small kid every new year there was this "weight-loss challenge". Every participant (most family members, even my 85y.o. grandma) had to tell my dad their weight on Sundays and he added them to a chart and who didn't loose weight was publicly shamed by the others. A concept I later saw again when I was anorexic. So, there was that, I grew up fat but pretty athletic, I even did competitive sport. Still, you know, surprising every PE teacher that I am good at sports, bullying at school, etc pp. I came into puberty very early, still in elementary school, which really fucked up my sexuality. Having a C cup when 10 (and immediately experiencing sexual violence from strangers) left me to today unable to have any sexual experience. Also because I feel uncomfortable in my body because of my weight. In my youth I was anorexic and in recovery I gained back to my all-time weight. But I still feel fatter then I am or rather... My view is shit. My body is pretty average, the kind of slightly-overweight that everybody nowadays is. But in my eyes (maybe from childhood maybe from anorexia) the "normal/healthy" weight is waayyy skinnier than is it for society (with bmi and stuff). In contrast, I feel very fat although I am pretty average.
Everyone around me has an unhealthy beauty standart/body image issues/unhealthy diet etc. My bfs mom eats nothing but yoghurt for 4 years now, to lose weight (she didn't lose a pound by now and I would have given up, but ok) and judges my eating choices, whenever I am around (she asked me once why I made myself carrots for breakfast, carrots are the vegetables with the most sugar!!!). She always talks about calorie counting, weight watchers, encourages her friends and family to fast a few days in a row to lose weight, calls them lazy if they say they can't because, they have a life and aren't early-retireds with no hobby but an unhealthy diet. I also gained a lot of weight in the last months from stress, I assume around 30lb. I have a genetic lung disease and had/have to be careful during the pandemic, so I couldn't do a lot of my usual teamsports.
When I recently visited my mom, she greeted me with "Wow, you've become fat" like? Guess what, I noticed!!! Thanks for nothing.
The only one who thinks I am pretty is my bf. But tbh, this goes under beneath all the other voices.
So, I am torn. On the one hand I still have the urge to go back to anorexia, please all my surrounding, participate in their unhealthy diet, and feel better in my body again (because I clearly felt better when I was thinner. Not more athletic or easier-to-move or for medical reasons. I just felt more comfortable in my body). On the other hand I want to eat healthy (which I admittedly didn't so much during the last stressful months) do sport, see how my body will change with that and accept what body will stick with me.
Tbh, the unhealthy voice is most times much louder, which leaves me with a lot of self hate during the last months. It is like the thought, that I had when I was anorexic: "I want to love my body. But only, once I have a body that I objectively don't have to be ashamed of. Because what is it worth, to love my body, if it is still ugly for everyone who sees it?". A very contrary thought, I know. But still, accurate till today.
Any encouraging words or something?
Hi anon,
It sounds like your mom has an unhealthy view on weight, not only her own but pretty much everyone else around her as well, and you've internalized a lot of that.
I understand why the unhealthy voice is sometimes louder - because you've been made to believe that voice is right. It can definitely be a struggle to try and accept your body for the way it is especially after having gone though what you have. But I do believe that, for the sake of your own mental and physical health, it's important to fight that unhealthy voice and do what you need to do to live a healthy life, however that looks for you. Anorexia can be extremely challenging to resist, and you may take some backwards steps, but progress isn't linear.
It's hard not to internalize how people claim to perceive your body, especially your own mother. But your mom seems to be leading an obliviously unhealthy lifestyle, so perhaps it's safe to say that she may not completely know what's best for you.
I don't have personal experience with eating disorders but I do have personal experience with insecurities about my physical appearance. It may seem a little backwards, but it helped me to hear that, no matter what you look like, someone will always have something to say, so it kind of cheapens the worth of their criticisms. It's another way of saying you can't please everyone. So as long as you are healthy and happy, your opinion of yourself is the only one that ultimately matters. That's easier said than done, but it is a place to start.
I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.
-Bun
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would you be willing to talk a bit about your experience with keto? specifically with like... substitutes for non-keto foods, or otherwise eating in public while on keto? i've been looking into going on keto for mental health purposes, but i already have slight issues with maintaining a gluten-free diet (for physical health purposes, so there's more incentive and i still struggle) so i would love some advice or suggestions if you have any!
oh gosh i'm really bad at talking broadly/without specific questions to answer, i'd be better off helping if you asked me a little more specifically what you were curious about? ^^;
i'm autistic with ARFID/SED so my relationship with food was already kind of boring to begin with. when i hear other people talk about dieting there is a disconnect, they are reluctant to give up huge swaths of food groups because food is more of a pleasure to them. food is more of a necessity to me. i certainly LIKE eating really good food that i am craving, but for the most part i view food from a more pragmatic/technical standpoint, it's just maintenance so i can be healthy. so already idk how true my experience might ring.
i generally do not eat in public, especially not during the pandemic fdghg before though i didn't really fancy going out to eat to begin with. when i went out with friends i always just assumed that there would be nothing keto on the menu and so i would eat before dinner plans and just get myself something to drink. when it comes to stuff like eating at work i would pack my own lunch or keep keto-friendly stuff in the work fridge. i know there are keto communities online that talk about how to navigate restaurants and stuff and hacks you can do to various menu items to make them fit but i just... can't be bothered. most of their hacks are not filling for me anyways, sorry but there is no way for me to get full off salad.
breakfast is obviously the exception! soooo much keto breakfast. i tend to eat a lot of bacon/sausage when i go to a joint that has a breakfast menu. i don't like eggs but most people do and they are VERY versatile~
as far as maintaining it i, again, dont know if i have any good advice for you. i... am just kind of a being of pure willpower. when i have my mind set on something i cannot really be swayed on it. my self-response to most of my struggles/problems is to 1. feel the emotion and 2. then scream SUCK IT UP at myself and press forward. which is not necessarily advice i would impart onto other people. i wish i had more of a way of articulating what my mental process is but i really just think 'im gonna do this' and then i do it. and when my brain wants me to not do it i tell it to fuck off ghgfhjhg.
i've been keto for 5 years now and when people are like wow thats impressive my instinct is really just to shrug gnhgdhjgd
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this is random, but something I didn't have to engage with during the pandemic and am starting to return to is feelings about money in fandom. when 1d were together i was a teen, worked spare jobs here and there but couldn't afford to participate in most commercial aspects of 1d mania. working class family. i have some ot5 socks (!) as a lovely birthday gift. i saved for 2 years for OTRA tour nosebleeds. now i'm an adult with a job, though i still consider myself low-income (1/?)
somehow before harry blew up i snagged $50 tickets to one of his first shows, and i caught louis' livestream show, but i haven't been to any others and probably never will. i notice i hold a bit of bitterness (?) or alienation toward harry's trajectory at times, beyond my thoughts about how he views labor and wields his power - just feeling kind of "priced out" of actively participating in his fandom. this thought came to mind as i've been seeing kids posting about attending loads of louis'
shows. sometimes i reflexively wonder "where do they get the money from?!" this feels a bit whiney, more so than i mean it to. in general i guess it just speaks to my starting out as a kid watching 5 boys on x factor (when i lived in the UK) and on YT, then through growing up + their careers taking off, feeling like the money barrier is more and more inevitable (unavoidable?) now. not sure why i felt i should send this your way! it feels obvious always, but sometimes especially present.
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Hi anon
For starters - I'm sorry capitalism fucking sucks. I think the answer to the question 'where do they get the money from' is that we live in deeply unequal society and some people have access to a lot of resources. It's not whiny to feel like that at all (and I have a very low tolerance from fandom whining about these sorts of things - so if I don't think it's whiny you're well beneath the whiny bar).
If it helps I find it's perfectly possible to do fandom in a way where I very rarely spend any money at all. There are some advantages from being from NZ and having an expectation that you're irrelevant (even when I was in the UK whenever I did go to something in person it felt like a weird bonus that wasn't supposed to happen to people like me). For me not being able to want to or able to spend money has never got in the way of fandom (after all writing thousands and thousands of words about whatever takes my fancy is free, as is rewatching well filmed gigs).
But there's also no obligation to look at it like that. Ticket prices are skyrocketing and there's an international cost of living crisis. Lots of people are being priced out. And 'Fuck you if you don't want people like me at your shows I've got better ways to spend my time' is a really good way to respond to that.
#I think boundaries are a good thing#Harry can make decisions about his career#and how he tours#and I can choose to watch well filmed gigs from the comfort of my flat#rather than pay insane money for not that good seats#at a not very good venue
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With March coming to an end, I feel at ease sharing my monthlong thoughts. I make sure to brace myself whenever March comes around. For whatever reason, this month has brought significant life events. Some good moments, some bad, some scary and some that had an impact that I didn’t fully comprehend until years later.
I’m still dealing with the effects of my “March moments.” I’ve made lifestyle changes for some things. It’s helped and I’m happy but I do slip up from time to time. I’ve adjusted my view on hitting milestones and life events. I was putting unrealistic expectations on myself, the environment and those around me. It took awhile to understand that I don’t have to control as much as I thought I did. I won’t say it was a relief or a weight off my shoulders because, by nature, I am a control freak. I’m self aware, if nothing else.
March was also the month where things closed down back in 2020. The pandemic caused a shift that I’m still trying to recover from. The entire world experienced it together but we all have different stories on how it impacted our personal lives. I still don’t have the words to express what that period of time meant without rambling. I will say that it really fucked with my concept of time. I was hopeful and eager to experience things before March 2020 and now everything feels routine despite my best efforts to do things out of the ordinary. There’s a missing piece somewhere for sure and I haven’t been able to make the connection on what it could be. Still trying tho.
The last four years left me frozen in time in some ways. I still feel like I’m the age I was in 2020 even though I’m very much not that age anymore. That should’ve been the time for big moves in life. It was in some ways but not for the things I had planned. A lot of life happened in that time. I sometimes forget the specifics until someone mentions it. I should’ve celebrated the wins a little more.
March wasn’t always gloom and doom tho. There were new, fun and exciting times also had during this month. I cherish those moments. I think that’s why I’m so conflicted with it. It’s seen some of my best but also much more of my worst. I don’t want to carry the heaviness of March forever. Next year I’ll do a better job of adding good memories to this month.
In other not-so-existential news, I want to get out of the country for a bit. It’s been so long since I’ve traveled somewhere new. I have two places in mind and if I can make them both happen, it’d be nice. I told my trainer we have x-amount of time to hit my goal. He told me I had to cut out the bread and Taco Bell to truly lock in. lmao Still debating if it’s worth it. jk but fr I get my InBody Scan on Monday so that’ll really start the clock. I was supposed to get it done this morning but I texted him to reschedule for the 1st. I’ve been pushing it off for about a month now tho so can’t back out now. Summer’s close and I want to challenge myself.
That’s it for now.
xf 03.30.2024
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Well, the IRL best friend and I finished TLOU2 Remastered this afternoon and spent the rest of the day going through most of the behind the scenes stuff--there's still more to get through and I'm thrilled. My thoughts will be beneath the cut, so you all don't have to scroll through a massive post lol
(Also, this will contain game spoilers, for my followers who haven't played it/watched it but may want to; please keep that in mind!)
So as you might know, this was my first time actually experiencing the game by playing it myself; I watched other people play it when it was first released in 2020 (nearly four years ago! WTF), and let me tell you, the narrative points that hit me hard while watching other playthroughs hit me so much harder when it was me who was controlling the character, or watching the cutscenes with the controller in my hands. The one that filled me with the biggest knot of hot dread in my stomach was the game's ultimate climatic fight between Abby and Ellie on the beach in Santa Barbara. It was an incredible experience the first time around in watching (and many watches since), but the incredibility was tenfold, I feel, not only because I was in control of the moments and how long the fight really lasted, but because Abby is a character that has wormed her way into my heart and has a permanent place there; I didn't want to harm her, I didn't want to press the button when prompted, etc.; and the catharsis I felt, when Ellie lets her go, was an even bigger brick to the face.
Naturally, after finishing the game, we watched the documentary of the making of--something that got me incredibly excited, when it was first announced, because as a creative person I love seeing how a project of this scope gets made, from the initial concept to the process of building it and to the final product, and all the people it takes to bring it to life. My thoughts on this are a little scattered, and I'll definitely have to watch it again to gain a clearer picture, but I can definitely say it was inspiring and emotional to watch. Everyone, from the higher-ups at the studio to the entry-level people, the writers and artists and actors and sound designers, etc., was so goddamn passionate about this game, even when it hit challenges and roadblocks, and seeing them overcome those to create the best game possible was inspiring. It was lovely to see higher-ups recognise the culture of their studio and how the crunch isn't a very healthy working environment for anyone to work in, and acknowledge that that needs to change (though it was, in my view, slightly disappointing that it took a pandemic and a radical shift of working remotely to realise that).
The part that really got me angry and emotional was when Laura Bailey came on and described the visceral hate and death threats she received for portraying Abby, and how those same people threatened her newborn son, and how she had to make certain that none of these threats came from anywhere local due to safety reasons--and I had to pause and absorb and breathe, because I could not, for one, imagine being in such a position, and two, couldn't believe the fucking audacity and lengths that people--"fans"--will go to when they don't like something, or a character and those actions that character does. I'll never understand how people cannot separate an actor from their character, or what makes them think they can send death threats to a complete stranger who was merely doing their job (and doing it with passion and love and nuance). I know I shouldn't try to; it'll only lead down a black rabbit hole. All I can say, now, is that no one else could have played Abby with such nuance and heart, or brought her to such vivid life that I would stand in that character's corner and take up sword and shield for them.
I'll have more thoughts later, I'm sure, but for now, this is where I'll leave it. Very excited to continue digging into the BTS, and to play the game again with the commentary!
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Alone
I feel alone. The title is correct. I've been stuck in my head for a long time. It has been a hard couple of years. I'm currently in my third year of college and I feel like I really haven't shaken off the feeling of being alone. I've been struggling with communicating, this has been happening since the Pandemic and there are lots of people who feel the same way. I feel like I'm not at a point of my life where I want to be. Yesterday was my 21st birthday and I'm grateful that I get to see another year of my life. But, depression is such a hard thing to shake. I'm trying to find my balance and voice. I was in one of my classes today, it's one of those collaborative classes, and I realized that I need to really work on myself. I need to reach out for help. I lost so much interest in the things I love and feel like that spark of mine has been taken out. But one thing I'm going to say is, that yes it can feel like our sparks can easily be put out but it's never too late to light it up again. That's something that I need to remind myself of. I came to the realization that Instagram isn't something I need to be on right now and with that maybe also other social media websites. I took a few days off of Instagram and honestly it felt so fucking refreshing, I noticed that I was way happier and I didn't have to worry about what was going on there. The moment I downloaded my Instagram, I felt depressed and that was a moment of realizing, yes this is what I need. I need to get off the Gram and also not spend so much time on social media. I started my Instagram account in the 8th grade (back in 2015), I remember being so happy to finally have it but I didn't expect how much of a toll it would have on my mental health and the way that I view myself. I didn't know the rules of social media and I became very addicted to it. I was posting on my page, every single day and I would put too much of myself on there. I wasn't taught that it is good to not post everything. My thing was I wanted to fit in with people at school and a lot of people knew me as the "quiet kid" so it made things kind of hard for me. But I think it pushed many people away. I wish I could tell myself then that we should continue being ourselves and delete our Instagram and work on ourselves and find our voice.
In the class I took today, she made us do "photovoice" where we take pictures of things on campus that would represent us. I took those pictures above. They say that pictures do have a thousand words. those pictures represent how alone I feel. I chose to dim the lighting to show that I'm in a dark place right now and I hope to overcome that feeling.
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1659.
COVID
How is Covid where you live?
it’s finally settled down. we no longer have to wear masks anywhere except hospitals and nursing homes. they even stopped reporting the number of daily cases but it’s still in the thousands as far as i remember
Are you having a food shortage crisis due to drivers having covid and unable to work?
not anymore
Are you using check in QR codes or filling in manual check ins everywhere you go?
again, not anymore. they were such a hassle, i dont really see how it helped the cause tbh
Are you washing your hands/using sanitizer when you can?
always. i was like this before the pandemic
What is one thing about covid that is driving you insane?
nothing anymore. the anti-vaxxers kinda drove me insane though. if u dont want to get vaccinated, thats fine but please do not shove uneducated ‘facts’ down people’s throats
Are you sick of everyone talking about covid?
no one really talks about it anymore
Do you find you clash with anyone when discussing covid?
thankfully no one i was close to clashed with my views. sadly my beautician was anti-vax, imagine having to listen to her views unsolicited while i was supposed to be getting a relaxing facial lmao
What are your thoughts on the vaccinations and boosters?
i supported them. i wholeheartedly believe i had a mild case of covid because of the vaccine
What has covid taken from you or prevented?
a couple years of potential travel. but tbh i ended up saving a lot
Do you know anyone that has covid? how are they doing?
i probably only know like 5 people who haven’t gotten it now
LIFE
How is life for you right now?
it’s honestly not bad. im a lot happier tbh
Are you Okay?
yes
What is impacting your life the most right now?
nothing really, just the thought of getting in shape and saving money before the wedding next year
What is something positive that has happened to you recently?
i got the whole weekend to myself!
Any goals for 2022?
it’s nearly over haha
Did you make any new year resolutions?
no
Seeing many friends through the pandemic?
i did
Are you studying?
nope
Are you working?
yes
Any new hobbies?
not really
FRIENDS
Who is your best friend?
my fiance
How long have you been friends?
14 years
What is something about them that makes you smile?
everything!
Have they ever supported you through something major?
always. theres honestly nothing he wouldnt support me through
Tell me a memory of you both together?
traveling to sooo many places together and making memories
Ever travelled together?
haha ^ yes, plenty of times. we’ve been traveling together overseas for 10 years now
Do you share similar interests?
hmm mostly
One band or artist you both enjoy?
the weeknd
One hobby you both enjoy?
gambling lmao
What is something you disagree on?
sleeping in. im more of a seize the day kinda gal
Name a movie you both love.
the hunger games. we just rewatched the trilogy
Name a television show you both enjoy?
rpdr hahaha
Any nicknames for each other?
yes
PARTNER
Do you have a partner?
yes, same person i spoke about above lol
Where Did You Meet?
through friends over msn messenger but we officially met face to face at a friend’s 18th birthday
Who made the first move?
he did
Have you or have they said ‘I Love You’
yes
Do you get bored in a long term relationship?
never
Much drama in your relationship?
nope. we havent had a serious fight in honestly so long *knock on wood
Are they loyal and loving?
yes
Name 3 things you have in common
we both cant really cook, we love to travel and we’re both fucking hilarious
RANDOM
Where are you from?
australia
If you could travel ANYWHERE right now, money wasn’t a barrier, where would you go and why?
disneyworld, idk i just wna fkn travel, so on rides, eat good food and relax
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#i know i’m always the one egging you guys on and supporting you and telling you not to compare yourself to others#but jfc could i use that own advice on myself#i’m so sick and tired of feeling inadequate or behind or not talented enough#while i see others in my field (or in general) thriving#some even younger than me and i try to not let it get to me or to trust my own timeline#but this pandemic has really fucked me up and how i view myself and my potential#as a writer... as a functioning person in my field... as someone who knows what the fuck they want to do in their field....#as someone who cannot believe in themselves even though they desperately try to#i feel so excluded and less than in so many aspect of my life and what i thought i loved or wanted to be#and i’m just so sick so so so sick of feeling lost and passed by#and this 13 year stint of feeling like an outcast in my own skin and in my own environment is getting so old#i just want to feel like i belong and feel like i’m on some sort of path towards anything rewarding lmfao#i’m in such a bad headspace but idk what to do it won’t go away!!!!!!#i need to take a break from the internet i just need to get away it’s really causing a harmful toll to my mind and body#i love you guys idk i just needed to vent#i hope you’re all well#i’ll see you sometime maybe soon idk
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You and I - Henry Cavill smut
The one where Henry comes over to fix your computer
Warnings: reader is a henry fan, pandemic theme, lockdown and quarentine-ing, little bit of second-hand embarrassment?, heatwave, henry is feeling deprived in this one, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), dirty talk, brief hairpulling, the name of God in vain, Henry’s monster dick, laughing and teasing while fucking, hand over throat but no actual choking, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex
Word count: over 3k, ‘cause I got no chill
A/N: this was inspired by a tik tok someone requested me to write a fic about it. Obviously I took it in a different direction because can I ever follow guidelines? No. I do love this fic, though. Thank you to @lokiscollar for giving this a read for me!
Y/N’s P.O.V
Driving to a secluded location to spend lockdown in felt like a wonderful idea. There was a working wi-fi connection, so I could work remotely from the seashore cabin without any problem whatsoever, and the view was obviously to die for.
I did not expect someone else to have the same idea as me. The cabin next door had been occupied on the same day that I arrived, and much to my surprise, I recognized my new neighbor as someone I never expected I’d come to meet in my entire life: an actor. An actor I actually had a crush on.
Thankfully, the situation didn’t exactly call for mingling. I ran off to hide inside my cottage as soon as I realized who he was, occupying myself with fixing everything for the next day instead of daydreaming about the man next-door.
There would be time for that later, once I got in bed. But weirdly enough, that was the only time I really thought about him during those first weeks of quarantine. Every once in a while I’d get the random wave of curiosity about what he was doing - what did Henry Cavill get up to while spending lockdown by himself? But that was pretty much it.
I woke up every day, had breakfast, worked and then went to bed. Sometimes I’d sit by the balcony and watch the birds fly, taking in the scenery and breathing in the salty water. Even as a kid, I’d always loved the sea. It was comforting, so it made sense for me to turn to it in such a stressful time.
Sometimes I’d hear a bark or two, reminding me of the man who was staying in the other cabin, and it made me smile. I always did like his dog, whenever I saw pictures of him.
I hoped they were alright and that the absence of any human contact wasn’t getting to them, even though it was getting to me. I could feel my own social abilities - which weren’t exactly stellar before - slowly becoming decrepit, and I was scared to think of what my first human interaction would be like once lockdown was over.
I just hadn’t anticipated it would be come so soon.
The morning began as it usually would. I took my shower, I had my breakfast, and I sat in front of the computer with my coffee in hands, ready to start working for the day.
Only the computer wasn’t ready for it, too.
“What?” I talked to myself - something that had become more usual the longer lockdown went on. “Oh, no, no, no…” The situation was looking drearier the longer I stared at my lifeless screen.
Looking up at the clock, I considered my options. Even supposing I could get someone to come to this middle of nowhere to fix it, there was no way I’d be able to get it done before work started.
Sighing, I pushed away from my designated desk to call my boss. Thankfully, he understood and I was left to repair the damn thing and come up with a solution for the next day.
My heart ached at the prospect of having to abandon my refuge because of an electronic malfunction. And that is, if there even was anyone willing to fix the damn thing, considering the pandemic and the rules of social distancing. That’s when suddenly, an idea popped up.
I remembered all the fuss a few months back over a video of Henry assembling a computer all by himself. There was no way someone with that much hardware prowess couldn’t at least know enough to fix this simple laptop.
With that thought in mind, I gathered all of my courage to leave my little shack and make my way to the neighboring cabin. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door, and after a few seconds of silence - he was probably surprised and certainly not expecting anyone - a voice sounded from within.
“Who is it?” Now, I had thought this through. If this man came as far as I had come to this damn forgotten town, it was because 1) he wanted peace and quiet and 2) he was as terrified of the virus as I was. So I knew what I needed to say - what I would like to hear if the roles were reversed.
“It’s your neighbor. My name’s Y/N. I’m so sorry to disturb, but my computer broke and I need it to work and you’re the only person I’m 100% sure has been socially distancing for long enough not to put my life in risk.” After all, I would have seen if someone had come to visit him. I didn’t need to say this because both of us knew it. “Would you pretty pretty please come and check it out?”
Silence followed my question and I sighed, rubbing my sweaty forehead as I knew this was a long-shot. “I understand if you’re unable or uncomfortable doing so, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks anyway!”
I had already turned my back to his front door when I heard it swinging open, the pitter patter of paws following close behind. My eyes took in the man in front of me for only a second before looking down at the dog at his feet, head tilted in interest as he analyzed me.
Immediately, my eyes lit up. “Kal!” I exclaimed, kneeling down to let the animal sniff me so I could pet it. My heart stopped working for a second when I realized what I’d done, though.
“Sorry!” I looked up at him from my kneeling position, trying to ignore how awkward it was, considering what I was close to. “I-I do know who you are, I’m not gonna lie about that.”
I straightened up as he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t quite define. Neither could I determine how it made me feel, just that it made me avert my gaze so I’d stare at my feet.
“So… Are you gonna help me?” He chuckled at my question, closing the door behind him and taking a step in my direction, making me fumble as I instinctively stepped back.
“Sure.” It was the first thing he spoke to me, but we walked back to my own place in silence. He had his hands in his pockets as Kal followed us closely, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he happily explored the outside for this little while. “Come on in.”
The way the cottage was set up left little space for him to wonder where he should be helping me. The desk in which I had prepared my set-up stood right by the wall to our left, and there he went without me having to point it out.
I watched a drop of sweat roll down the nape of his neck and fall under his tank top, distracting me as I licked my lips at the sight of it. Then his head turned to look at me and I realized that he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.
“Yeah, huh?” He chuckled again, making my face feel warm - an not (only) because of the overwhelming heat.
“Is it okay if I disconnect the wi-fi?” I wave my hand dismissively, shrugging.
“As long as you’re able to fix this, you can do whatever the hell you want.” I got the impression that I amused him, but he didn’t say anything else as he got to work on my (seemingly) dead computer.
Minutes went by of complete silence, safe from the sounds of typing and metal as Henry worked on the machine and I tried not to bite my nails. Finally, he pulled away from the screen and put his hands on his hips as if assuming some sort of decided stance - but if it was a good or bad thing, I couldn’t tell.
“Tell me, doctor.” I asked, pushing myself away from the sofa to approach him. The smell of a man’s sweat really had no right to be this arousing. “Is it life or death?” Henry turned to stare at me with a quirked eyebrow, and in the seconds it took for him to answer, I was once again distracted by just how hot he was.
“Sorry, what?” I asked when he became silent and I realized he’d asked me something I hadn’t heard once more. His smile said he was annoyed and entertained at the same time. “Sorry, you’re hot, it’s hot, and I can’t think straight,” I sighed, brushing the hair away from my eyes as I pressed my palms against them, trying to pull myself together.
“I swear to God, I’m not crazy.” I tried to look him directly as I said that, but was surprised at what I saw when our gazes met. There was a peculiar sense of yearning that he exuded, something I couldn’t quite place but that took my breath away all the same, especially when he took my silence as an invitation to invade my personal space.
“If you want me so badly, all you have to do is ask.” Silence fell heavily and I was out of breath just from his words - not a good sign. My throat felt dry, too dry, so I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to say something.
“W-why, though?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes inscrutable while he judged my question, trying to understand where it came from just like I was trying to understand his interest in me, when he suddenly smiled.
“I figured it’s a nice way for you to pay me back.” It took me a second to understand what he was referring to, and then my eyes darted from the computer to him, my mouth falling open in offense until he started chuckling. “I’m joking!” But even so, the question remained…
“Sweetheart…” He spoke, voice low and velvety as two strong hands suddenly enveloped my hips. “You’re seriously underestimating how hot you are.” I didn’t know what to say, so I had to make sure I’d hear him right.
“M-me?” A predatory smirk took over his face, slowly. I gulped under its intensity, feeling much like prey as he started to back me against the couch. I fell on top of it with a gasp, and another one escaped me when he used my ankles to pull me closer.
“I wanna eat you out.” It was all I got as an answer, but I can’t say that I minded it. As he dropped to his knees before me, pulling down my underwear before spreading my legs for his eyes to take in, it felt like I got a response from the gesture in itself.
“Do you know how long it’s been since I ate pussy?” The unexpected question made me choke on my own saliva, as he chuckled darkly in amusement at my bashfulness. I could only breathe through my mouth when he leaned down to run his tongue on the edge of my lips, slowly acquainting himself with my taste, making me moan softly.
“I-I definitely and decidedly don’t.” He seemed to like this answer, understand that it delimited exactly the type of fan that I was: the kind that knew what he was and what he liked - his dog, his computer - but not someone who was obsessed with his entire dating history, eager to know his every secret.
The longer Henry ate me out, the clearer it became just how long it’d been since he’d done this. It was obviously something he liked - the way he buried his face against my cunt and engulfed it entirely with his open mouth showed so. And the fact that he licked me and sucked me like he was a starved man? This was a man denied of a pleasure he genuinely enjoyed, that much I was certain of.
“Do you like this?” He asked once he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of me, already stretching me beyond what I could do with my own hand.
“How could I not?” I managed to moan a response, making him chuckle.
“Show me how to find it,” he instructed, eyes sparkling with determination. “I want to find your sweet spot.” I’d never had someone I was with so interested in giving me pleasure before.
Hypnotized, my fingers circled his wrist as best as I could, slowly moving him to run his digits over the top of my channel. He knew when he found it because I cried out for him, closing my eyes momentarily.
“Cum for me,” he ordered, and how could I deny him that, especially when he was looking at me with those darkened eyes? He milked my orgasm until my pussy had stopped clenching around him, but the second that it was done, he growled, getting up to his knees. “Gonna fuck you now.”
He pulled me by my hair, making me moan out loud as he slowly inserted his monster cock inside of me. “Oh, God!” His groan had me panting, cunt clenching around his thickness. I couldn’t understand how I was able to take it, but I was glad that was the case. “So… tight…”
Through his grip on my hair, he pulled me to deposit quick kisses down my jaw. “You take me so well, darling.” It was a compliment I was proud to receive, even though I wasn’t too sure how I managed to earn it in the first place.
“I honestly don’t know how,” I admitted, gasping when he slowly dragged his cock out to slam it in me, but I instinctively pulled my hips away, earning an amused chuckle from him.
“Come back here,” he ordered, already pulling me back to spear me with his painfully hard length. I’d have to be inhuman not to cry out at the feeling of his bulbous head bumping against my cervix. “Are you scared?” He joked as I bit on my bottom lip not to give in and laugh. “You think I’m too big?”
“You’re more than enough, I’ll tell you that.” Now, that had his own laugh escaping his chest, making my body tremble underneath his, inadvertently getting some friction between the both of us. It earned me a moaned out, “Yes…” that got his attention back to where I hoped it would be, and as his eyes settled on me, I briefly wondered if I was prepared for what was to come.
“But now that you got all of me inside of you, do you really want to go?” The whispered question made me shiver. I never expected him to be the type to talk dirty, but then again, I never expected I’d be fucked by him, either.
“No.” It was all the permission he needed.
“Then let me fuck you hard.” And hard he did fuck me. He was hard inside of me, it probably would have been painful for him if he wasn’t so desperately trying to alleviate it by frantically fucking me against the couch.
It was the most deliciously torturous experience I’d ever gone through. I had to bite my lip while I held onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to stop my moans from escaping because I was sure that for once, I’d become a screamer.
Unfortunately, it seemed like Henry didn’t appreciate my efforts to keep his ears from deafening. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, fingers tightening on my hips. “I thought you wanted this.”
Confused, all I could think to say was, “I-I do.”
“Then let me hear you,” he insisted. “You know you can scream all you want. We’re all alone up here on the coast.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. And with that reassurance, I allowed my head to fall back and my mouth to fall open, my moans flowing freely from my body as Henry kept fucking me.
“This is so much better than touching myself in search of a release,” he mumbled at some point, like he was talking to himself. “I was so damn lonely and you have such a tight little pussy.”
Being fucked by him felt like a religious experience. Henry somehow knew the map to my pleasure, easily bringing me to the brink of bliss before I had even managed to wrap my head around this turn of events.
My moans grew louder as I climbed higher and higher, but before I could fully tip over his hand curled around my throat, not constricting any air, just calling my attention.
“Ask for permission, baby.” Just the order had me clenching around him, prompting him to release a moan of his own. All the while, I was groaning in frustration, trying to control myself or say what he wanted me to say, but all that came out of me was, “Goddamn! You can’t say stuff like that.” Henry’s laughter flowed freely once more, making my heart skip a beat. “Why not?”
“Because you’re a fucking movie star and I am not up to fall in love with you.” That had his eyebrows raising in surprise, the smile disappearing from his face before it came back as a teasing smirk.
“Oh, so this is a one-time thing.” The taunting manner in which he said it surprised me in turn, so I hesitated before nodding. I mean, of course it was, right? He didn’t even know me. This was strictly sexual and physical, I would not be fooled by my own hormones. “My cock is not enough for you to want to get to know me some is that it?” … Was he testing me?
“Yes.” His smirk only grew at the word. “This is a one-time thing.”
“We’ll see about that.” His fingers ran down my body to graze over my clit. I sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, knowing I was going to lose. Eventually, as my thighs began to tremble, I gave in altogether.
“Please, let me cum, please.” His eyes softened at my broken and desperate plea, hand gripping my cheeks as he finally nodded.
“Keep staring at me as you cum,” he commanded, still just as bossy. “Show me how pretty you look when you cream all over my dick.” That was all I needed to succumb to the pleasure he was subjecting me to.
I felt his cock, still hard as it pumped rope after rope of cum inside of me, and by the time I was able to open my eyes again, he was panting over me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.
I didn’t have the time to think about what I should do - push him away, try to pretend this didn’t happen - because the second I began to adjust on the couch, he pulled me to rest against his chest.
“Let’s stay here for a little while,” he quietly asked me. “Then we’ll figure out if there’s enough room for me to take you in your bed.”
#my fics#henry cavill smut#henry cavill#smut#henry cavill request#henry cavill requests#my requests#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill reader#henry cavill reader insert#henry cavill reader inserts#rpf#fanfiction#henry cavill oneshot
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