#it's under a read more but if mobile deletes it i apologize

[kashacreates]

hi there! i really want to be a part of writeblr, people asking questions is the top thing that helps me develop my wips, but everyone knowing what i'm working on terrifies me at the same time... especially since i'm a teen writer; i'm worried i'll deem my projects "cringey" in the future and then not be able to do anything about it because it's immortalized on the internet. do you have any advice on how to get over this, or any good "baby steps" to take when interacting with the writing community? thank you!

To start: Mechanical basics of getting started on Tumblr:

Make your blog. Keep it simple. Blogs are kind of disposable, but pick a URL you like. I went with KashaCreates because people call me Kasha and my Creations go here.

Set a header and icon, but use something that you made or is free to use for those things. There are like picrews that work for icons or stock photos if you don't like to draw. (Or you could do what I did and take some stuff out of your scribbles that looked nice) No icon makes some people think you're a bot. Worry about theme later unless you really want to work on it now.

Make an intro post and pin it. Start with simple info: a name for folks to call you, what you like to read/write, etc. I'm not a fan of putting exact age (who wants to update their stuff every year?), but as a minor, it's helpful to put some indication that you are not okay with nsfw/adult/erotic blogs interacting with you.

For the rest, there are a lot of good helpful tips here!

Put anything you may want to delete later under a "read more". It's the orange icon that pops up when you start to make a post.

If you ever want to figure out how to do something on Tumblr, Google is your friend. Just make sure to put the current year and whether you're desktop or mobile in the search. So "How do I make a readmore on mobile 2022." Google will still give you a ton of old ways to do so, but you'll eventually find some relevant post that'll tell you how to do it.

Pretty themes, aesthetics, images, etc. help, but are not necessary. They are a lot of work and do make your blog less accessible.

Tangents

This is like the third time I've wrote this, so I apologize if it's a little rough. But there are a few truths and ideas that I feel are important. Keep these as a general rule for the internet, not just Tumblr.

The internet isn't as permanent as people say it is. Websites get purged, hard drives die, servers get abandoned, etc. Always keep a local back up or two of your content, keep your passwords and 2FA up-to-date, and so on. Most of us don't go viral enough for people to keep an archive for us.

A tight-knit group of 2-5 peers who all share their work and comment on it is 1000s times better for growth than the faceless sea of social media.

You will eventually see your project as cringey, bad, problematic, etc. And that is okay! Future you has more life experience than current you and hopefully has been writing longer than you too. I wouldn't get too worked up about it (if possible).

Everything is problematic in some way and life has a ton of nuance. Very few things are black and white and you are the only person that can draw that line for yourself. Not your parents, not your teachers, not the president, not the news, not me. Keep an open mind, but still critically think.

Make the content you enjoy making and understand that you may not get a lot of interaction. Chasing validation is a quick way to burn out and losing the drive to create.

You get a lot more interaction in giving rather than posting content and sitting by receiving. You kind of have to make opportunities for people to find you.

Last Tangent, but it needs it's own section: Adult Blogs and NSFW Content

I am sure you know this and I'm preaching to the choir, but it's important for me to state.

Try to avoid blogs that handle nsfw content until you're over 18. Also, don't post nsfw content until you're over 18. Don't privately talk to someone you don't know and/or is over 18 about nsfw things. If someone tries to bring that stuff up to you in DMs or privately, block them.

It is perfectly okay for you as a minor to have interest in such things. But it is dangerous for everyone involved for adults and minors to share nsfw spaces. Any responsible adult that makes such content will try to keep their content a respectable distance from teens. Anyone that doesn't should be avoided.

It's not a matter of "uwu teens can't handle such content since they're smol beans and babies." I know teens do things on their own.

It's a matter of "some adults are fucking monsters and there is 0 way for anyone to know who is or isn't. Also, any adult can get in massive trouble for interacting with a teen in that way(for good reason)."

On that note, this ask made me realize that I need to put in my intro that my blog does handle "spicy" content (tagged, but still spicy). I tag everything.

Of course, I'm in no way offended, put off, or perturbed by your ask.

It's just that my work has adult content and I put no effort into filtering my posts on my blog to call it "minor friendly." I'm also human and make mistakes.

#advice #Just imagine me saying everything in a gentle matter-of-fact tone. #I feel like I don't give the advice people are looking for in these advice posts. #But I also feel that the information's important? #It's better to go in with an idea of what's going on than not. #Like I'd want to know to bring bear mace if I were to go hiking some place with a hungry polar bear roaming around. #I most likely will never see the polar bear-- but I'm prepared in case it sees me.

[selfshippingmailbox]

Hey y’all.

It’s been a while. Just wanted to give you all an update in case anyone was worried or whatever since it’s been pretty quiet here lately!

TLDR: I’m thriving and living my best life, but I just don’t have the interest/time/energy to run this blog the way I used to. All asks currently in my inbox will be deleted, and there is no guarantee that future asks will be answered - but I will leave my inbox open. This blog isn’t going anywhere - you’re welcome to reblog anything from my archives!

If you’re reading this and you want juicy details and sordid affairs, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Consider this just, like, an open letter to anyone who cared about me and this blog personally.

I hope you’re doing well! As I said above the read more I’m doing very well - I’ve graduated college, I’m going to graduate school to do research in my special interest, and I have wonderful friends who love and support me. I’ve started medication that’s immensely improved my mental health and stability, and I’m happy with where I’m going in life. I recently got my permanent disability parking placard and a new custom mobility aid which is very exciting for me since it will reduce my pain and hopefully increase my spoons to do things I love like hiking and art!

That said, I stepped away from active use of this blog for quite some time, and while not wholly the reason I’ve stepped away, there were a few incidents that’s have…not necessarily ruined self shipping for me, not at all, but they did put a bad taste in my mouth. I just want to get it off my chest, y’know? The people involved in these incidents were either rightfully upset that I overstepped a boundary or well meaning but confused individuals - I bear them no ill will and I hope they’re as happy and fulfilled in life as they can be.

The first incident was fully my mistake - I reblogged what was meant to be a personal post intended for mutuals only to this blog under the impression that it was self ship related. Unfortunately, with how many people follow this blog and the fact that it was in my queue and posted after I had fallen asleep, it wasn’t until the next day that I realized my mistake. The OP was understandably upset - both that a personal post had so many notification and that it was being treated as self ship material. I apologized, deleted the reblog, and contacted as many blogs as I could who had reblogged the post asking them to delete their reblog, but it was still a very stressful situation that further increased my existing reluctance to interact with other self ship blogs.

The second incident was a case of mistaken identity. I originally made this blog kind of out of spite - a self ship blog with a similar url had at the time been revealed to be run by a queerphobe. I, being queer, made a blog with a similar url sort of as a ‘fuck you’ to a blog I had previously enjoyed visiting for self ship content. Unfortunately, picking a similar url resulted in at least one person mistaking me for the queerphobic self ship blog. They made a vague call out post and tagged me in it - so I was able to reach out to them and explain the situation before that post reached very far at all. They were very apologetic and while I appreciate that, it did stress me out that other people might see my url and associate my blog with the bigot who ran a blog with a similar url. I have a strong aversion to changing my blog urls/themes/etc. (the autism is strong in me) so I never had the heart to change my url in spite of this potential recurring issue.

At the time of the second incident I had just barely gotten back into actively running this blog, and it just felt like the straw that broke the camel’s back. So I stepped back for quite a while - as you can see from last year’s annual pride month reblog haha - and I have fallen out of public self shipping personally. As a result I just do not have the motivation or the investment to continue posting self ship content - and I struggled for a long time to decide that it’s just too much for me, for something I don’t know I’ll ever feel the same about again.

I want to thank you - I’m assuming, if you’re still reading, you’ve been here a while and knew me when I posted actively in the community. I figured out that I was a lesbian here - that I was transgender and didn’t have a pronoun preference - and you were nothing but supportive and welcoming. Thank you for all the good memories - the ask games, the writing prompts, the positivity and the community you shared - I will not forget the good times I had here. And I hope you have some good memories of my time here to remember me by.

It’s been wild y’all. This is Beans signing off for the last time. Don’t forget - your f/o loves you 💙

#self ship #self shipping #self ship community #beans speaks #pinned post #🏳️‍🌈💙🏳️‍⚧️

[lilmaymayy]

hey friends! this is just a quick intro post in case you want to know a bit more about me/the blog🤭

** DISCLAIMER**

PLEASE BE KIND in this blog i will not entertain ANY hate/aggressive/mean interactions THEY WILL BE DELETED OR IGNORED, in the past where i did respond, it never left my mind and i never knew how to react, leaving me to be negatively affected by someones fleeting thoughts. so to avoid anyones displeasure please be respectful and conscious of your actions and words!! if not- 👉🚪we dont need that energy here

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*im also on mobile so apologies for any bad formatting😭😭

hello! my nicknames may and i use she/her pronouns. when sending any msgs id appreciate a quick hello but as long as your being polite i will gladly respond. feel free to address me as may or any other (kind) phrase (e.g queen/baddie?? anythings fine as long as youre being nice)

do u see the theme😘

i like to keep my age off of here simply for privacy but i can assure you i am not a minor, but if you are, you are welcome on my page any time just be aware i do swear and the content that i reblog can be nsfw, but ultimately you are responsible for the media you decide to consume.

i do not write fics(i always reblog them tho😉/also beta! so if youre a writer in need just lmk) idk if i ever will(write)but i dont realistically see that happening😭.

in the search bar for my page you can see all these hashtags, i typically tag “give it a read💋” for any fics ive betad and “she speaks🗣️” for any post thats just me yappin💀

and any character names (like finnick odair, peter parker etc.) are the bulk of fics that i reblog and you can find works for that character under those tags!

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im a full time student based in sunny california😍, my favorite things have to be fruits(tops gotta be strawberrys, cherrys anddd green grapes), fics, and folklore (3 fav f’s💋) (and yes i am a swiftie). last time i took the personality test i got ISTJ, but i swearr im still an infp. every single test i took told me i was a hufflepuff (were not lame i swear), and even though i swear up n down that im a laurie.. i might be an amy😔( i want to be great or nothing😫) and a song that i just feel for is probably a three way tie between teenage dream by olivia rodrigo, this is me trying by taylor swift and dreamer by laufey(not someone i typically listen to but whenever spotify puts her song i always love it)

favorite artistss gotta be the big three taylor, lana and ariana (nothing offish theyre just my most listened) and drake.. and bad bunny.. and olivia.. and sza.. and beyonce.. and the weekend.. and rihanna

- if you want a grasp of my music this is a LINK to my most played playlist

- this is a LINK to my more lovey/ sweet songs, its all in the description💋

*if u give em a listen and u wanna put me on.. msg me!! id love to hear your recs

my hobbies include playing music, i play guitar(kinda goodish) and i wanted to pick up piano too (idk if ill ever get to this😭) i also found that i love to do puzzles, and i wanted to start scrapbooking (looks fun af lowk). a few other things i love is definitely just jamming out to my tunes, sleeping😫😫, watching movies, playing w legos😭, PLAYING WITH MY DOGGIESSS (i have two, rocky and lily both are maltese poodles💋💋), baking (hate the clean up tho) i also love selfcare, its always good to prioritize urself but i mean the cassie method of everything showers, lotions, body oils, body mists/ perfumes, face masks, skin care (allllllll the goodies) just to finish the day off with a fic (its deadass my nightly routine to shower, get ready for bed/unwind, tumblr)

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now onto.. CELEBRITY CRUSHES!!

-CELEBRITY not character, but if i missed any lmk😝

-this is a long one so bearrrrr with me

my top 5 currently is🥁🥁🥁

1. sam claflin (been obsessed, still obsessed, i dont see this changing *unless timothee wanna quit playin🙄)

2. tom blyth (tbosbas was life changing.. hes so💋💋)

3. andrew garfield (im considering moving my man up to 2 bc hes an og for this list likee hes been on my brain since he was fan casted as our remus lupin and will stay there😌)

4. jacob elordi (newest addition, saltburn edits is the sole reason why hes here plus hes so fucking tall like i deserve that height difference *for reference im 5 ft😈)

5. timothee chalamet (i love him so much BUT HES DOWN HERE BC OF KYLIE😭*he would be 1 otherwise🥲)

for other hotties ..

OSCAR ISAAC🥵🥵😫-i need this man in bed rn

charlie brushnell😘-new addition but again he is taking over just like pjo is

tom holland- zenny baby he is all yours but that man shirtless? YUMMYYY

tom hiddleston- only rzn to watch the thor series

theo james - YOU THE ONE FOUR ME hes so fine i watched divergent (still a great series) for him n i was not dissapointed

aaron t— johnson- i do not want to mention his 🤐 but he is so fine his calvin klein ads?? KICKASS??

ben barnes- shadow n bone.. YUMMY YUMMY🤭🤭also sirius? likeee runaway to my house?

cillian murphy- ik he lowk looks like he got a bad case of botox.. BUT CMONNN PEAKY BLINDERS???

callum turner- i knew i was hooked since that harry potter movie he has like 10 minutes in🥰🥰

dylan o’brien-ima be honest im not DIE HARD in love but this man was fine since maze runner and teen wolf n will be till hes in the graveee

henry cavill- enola mf holmes.. INTRODUCE ME TO YOUR BROTOHER LIKE😍😍😍 i need this man to investigate all my internal organs

hugh laughton scott- hes just so pretty i just😘

harrison dickinson- love at first sight of darkest minds😍😍( its a discontinued movie (supposed to be) series) i need him in more shit

joao felix- my bestie pmo fifa AND HE DOES NOT DISSAPOINTT

josh hutcherson- i could not make this list without pookie

matthew gray gubler- i need him to read me to sleep, sing me to sleep, talk about anything so i can sleep, he brings me so much joy with that smile and hes so sweetie pie i could go on forever

robert pattinson- TEAM EDWARD FOR LIFEEEEEEEE

drew starkey?- idk his name but hes the hottie who plays rafe cameron IVE NEVER WATCHED THE SHOW (or anything hes in) but holy shit that man is tall and pulls off ANY hair cut

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well if youve made it this far thank you for taking the time to read this! if you want to know some more about me msg me in any way and ill respond, maybe ill add that info here. thanks again for your attention! love you all😘

#she speaks🗣️ #introduction #whole explanation for what happens here #lmk if smt needs more elaboration ig? #but thanks for clicking!!!

[the-rat-house]

TRIMMING LEGACY POSTS WITH XKIT REWRITTEN GUIDE

HEY I'm finally getting around to making this visual guide! Apologies for how long it has taken. But, let's go. Feel free to reblog this if you find it useful, by the way!

Please note that I am not an expert in any of this! I am going to cover what I have noticed while using XKit Rewritten; this could easily change with a Tumblr update or if new code is added to Xkit Rewritten. I am not affiliated with either, nor a coder of any sort!

So, real quick, what is a legacy post? A legacy post is a post that uses Tumblr's old post editor. Tumblr is pushing a new post editor, commonly known as the Beta Post Editor, and you can toggle between the two.

I'd recommend dropping Legacy Post Editor asap, btw. I know for rpers esp that it can be nice for fancy formatting, but Legacy won't be around forever, and it also is causing issues with fellow rpers.

There is use for both New Xkit and Xkit Rewritten at the moment, you can check those out for yourself through @new-xkit-extension.

Alright, under the cut is your visual guide.

So, this is a post of a rp I'm in that is currently in my drafts. MAKE SURE YOU ARE DOING THIS FROM YOUR DRAFTS AS YOU CANNOT TRIM A POST THROUGH THE EDITOR DIRECTLY. As you can see, my icon makes it seem as if the blog is not there (it cannot be clicked on, and there are also times where it may show the expected deactivated account icon). This is due to me trimming the post incorrectly.

So let's trim it the right way this time. There will be a warning that pops up if you are trimming a post that is currently or once was a legacy post. Acknowledging it, I am going to choose what responses I want trimmed.

Easy peasy!

Now, REFRESH THE PAGE. DO NOT POST THE POST, EVEN THOUGH IT MAY LOOK CORRECT! Why?

This is why. The post only showed my response once when I initially trimmed it, but after I refreshed my drafts? It has now duplicated the response. I don't know why this happens, but it does.

Now, THIS NEXT BIT IS VERY IMPORTANT, ESPECIALLY IF YOU HAVE A READ MORE FUNCTION THAT FORCES YOU TO GO TO THE ORIGINAL POST!

An easy fix, just edit the post and delete the duplicated, right? Well, no. Cause you can only edit the last reblog, aka the second one on there. And while it seems like "okay, I will just remove that one by erasing the text", YOU DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS!

Remember how up at the beginning my icon indicated a blog that wasn't there? Yeah, as far as Tumblr can tell, that post doesn't exist. If that post had a Read More on it? You couldn't access it, the post wouldn't exist. Again, I don't know why this happens, only that through testing that it does.

Thankfully, there is an easy way around that.

See that X? That is a function that allows you to get rid of reblogs (I believe that is a function built into the Beta Post Editor? I could be mistaken). It will get rid of all reblogs EXCEPT for your latest response if you've put one. So, I click it, and...

Tada! Now, just to make sure this has worked, I am going to save the post, and refresh my drafts.

LOOK AT THAT! No duplicate! And if I were to post this and my partner reblogged it, you would actually be able to go back and access the post on my end.

Again, I am not an expert, so I don't know what causes this beyond the fact that it has something to do with conflicting code, and whether or not that can be fixed is not something I'm aware of (and please don't bug the XKit Rewritten creator about it, either).

Best bet to avoid this? Just use the Beta Post Editor (if you are making a post from mobile, I DO NOT KNOW IF MOBILE BUSES THE BETA EDITOR OR LEGACY!) Of course, please be kind to each other and don't get on each others asses for using the different post editors. Just talk to your rp partners about it.

And of course, hopefully this helps!

#xkit rewritten #(sorry if this is too wordy or makes things more confusing I DO NOT MAKE GUIDES LIKES THIS ORZ) #(but i said i would make this one so!)

[crimeronan]

ik youre not a therapist and i dont want like therapy or anything but im 17 and ive known i was bipolar for 3 years now and i dont know how im supposed to live the rest of my life like this. im so fucking tired. how do you stay alive

you sent this a couple days ago & i’m posting at a weird time so i’m not sure if you’ll see it but.  

i’ve been looking at this message trying to decide how to respond

because i don’t know your situation, your symptoms, how you’re feeling, whether you’ve had positive or negative experiences with medication, psychiatrists, therapists, hospitals, all that related shit

the bipolar life advice i give to people is vastly different depending on the individual. it’s not a one size fits all thing.  and there’s never even a guarantee that my advice will be the right choice

so since i don’t know about your situation or experiences or what you want, i’m not gonna tell you what to do.  i’m gonna focus on the “how do you stay alive” question and try to pen down some personal feelings. and if they help then great, and if they don’t then... this is the most honest i can be

(you can always ask another question to get a better answer. my inbox is a coin slot and i am a vending machine of varied-degrees-of-helpfulness replies offered at varied-inconvenient-too-long-intervals)

-

how do i stay alive

it’s a 2-parter, actually.  i pondered how to condense my thoughts/feelings, and it came down to these two things

1. love 2. spite

-

1. love

the spite is easier to write about than the love.  love is hard to reach when i feel like shit.

spite is where i go when i want to die.  love is where i go when i want to want to live.

maybe i don’t want to be alive.  but maybe i wish i did.  spite doesn’t help me much there.  spite keeps me afloat, but it doesn’t make the floating pleasurable.  there’s more to life than outlasting everything that ever hurt me.  i need a reason to continue when there’s no enemy to fight

so. love

i almost wrote about the spite alone because that’s rawer, realer, more visceral.  that’s the shit that CONNECTS when everything feels hopeless.  but it would be a lie of omission.  spite is only one of the major food groups, you’ll waste away from malnutrition if you eat it for every meal. or at least, i will.

“so you’ve got a bunch of people you love,” you say, “and you stick around for them.  cry on them.  support each other.  like each other.  fine.”  you’ve heard this story before

nah.

i mean - yes.  i have people i love.  i live with two partners, i’ve got a third girlfriend, i’ve got a long-distance platonic life partner.  i have a support net, i have a family i’ve forged, i have confidence that i’m not alone.  i have, in a bare-bones checklist sort of way, fulfilled my physiological human need for connection

but i could live without every single one of them.  i’m not dependent upon any of them for my survival.  i’m not dependent upon them for love, given or received.  (this isn’t a callous cruelty, it won’t hurt them if/when they read this.  i’ve told them all this, they know.  they’re glad of it.)

so.  what the fuck does “love” mean, then?

the short explanation is that it’s my love of life, of things in the world.  it’s all the little connections i’ve made.  every time i love something, a hook tethers to the universe.  hook enough tethers, and i no longer feel the need to float away.  no dissolution of self today, sir

the rest of this section is some of the things i love. partially it’s to show how i connect to little things and ascribe magic to the mundane.  partially it’s because i like thinking about things i love, i like typing them out, and i like that i could keep going for thousands and thousands of words.

i am laying in bed at 7:30 AM with the lights off and the shades drawn.  blue  light comes through the slats because it’s the better time of year, the one where i finally get vitamin D, the one where the birds chirp at 4AM, the one where the sky isn’t impenetrably black til 10PM.

there’s a weighted blanket tucked around my legs.  my partner rafi bought it for us to share because it’s soothing and heavy and comforting and helps with my physical pain.  right now it’s soft on my skin and if i get too emotional as i write, i can pull it over me like a cloak until i’m settled.

the apartment’s walls are blank because we’ve spent eight months intending to put art up and keep forgetting.  but there’s a newly-unearthed dining area in the kitchen because i finally shifted around the unpacked boxes that were dominating the space.  it’s new and it surprises me every time i walk out there.  it’s open and inviting and bright and it’s a sign that we’re making this place home.

we’ll put a cheap IKEA table by the window and we’ll probably never eat family dinners there - why would we sit in hard chairs and make stiff conversation when we could all cuddle on the couch - but my partner dev will create a place to do their art and the surface will be constantly littered with drying watercolor experiments.

we’ll hang our art one of these days, too, when our collective adhd offers a miraculous combo of remembering + having time + having motivation + having inspiration.  rafi has the most art because they’ve been collecting it for years.  i have to start smaller.  i’m not used to keeping physical objects.  dev has a few pieces thrifted or bought at local artist events or painted themselves

so we’ll put art up in the living room, my single “you are magic” flower print alongside a naked monster lady that dev fell in love with when we browsed art at a yuletide event months ago, alongside rafi’s monster girls and comic characters and book characters and literature art and quotes and abstract pieces and whatever else they have hiding in boxes.

my head protests that naked monster ladies do not belong in the living room, although the picture isn’t overtly sexual.  but then i remember that they do, actually, because it’s our space and we can do whatever we want with it as long as the lease isn’t broken.  there isn’t anyone in the local social circles who’d be perturbed by the decor, as far as i know.  i don’t have to hide anything from my parents because i live 3600 miles from them, and even though i miss my mom, the distance is good for me

there are two exquisite chairs on the porch.  they fold and recline from thrones to nearly-horizontal beds.  there are pillows and cupholders and trays and specific spaces for both a book and a phone.  i can sit there while the morning sun rises and read or play word games or browse tumblr, cup of coffee beside me, trees shielding my eyes from stabby sunbeams

there are remnants of the last tenant’s garden in one corner of the yard.  we’ve done fuckall for yardwork but plants struggle through anyway.  some seem to have sprouted by accident.  mushroom clusters populate the edges of the fence.  the apartment squirrel (there are probably several, but i like to think it’s a single energetic creature) runs back and forth along the fence & i always lose my train of thought & then laugh my ASS off at the “SQUIRREL! XD” adhd moment.  birds kick up leaf litter and play on the ground looking for insects to eat, they wiggle their tail feathers and flap their wings and sometimes they disappear and then return with friends

a little more than eleven months ago, i packed all of dev’s and my shit into a uhaul and drove and drove and drove to get to this city i’d never been in before to live with a partner i’d never cohabitated with.  we were homeless for more than a month, we weathered some financial disasters, we met some great people and some shitty ones

on the drive i fell in love with the sky.  i didn’t know how big it can get - actually, that’s a lie.  i’d FORGOTTEN how big it can get.  i’ve loved the sky thirty miles out to sea, no land in sight in any direction, just blue water and blue space above.  i’ve loved the vastness and the yawning beneath me and the knowledge that everything is BIGGER than i can fathom.  the depth of the sea doesn’t frighten me, it’s home. i don’t want to die, but if i had to, the ocean makes a soothing grave

in north dakota i discovered that i’ve been partially blind my whole life, which is a different tale that showed me i’ll never stop learning myself.  in montana we struggled up thousands of feet of mountains with the car huffing and puffing at the trailer’s weight, and when we finally coasted downward, it felt like sudden freefall.  we ended up in the pitch darkness of night on sheer winding interstates with midnight construction projects forcing detours.  the mountains felt hungry, they had teeth.  mountain cliffs are much scarier to me than the ocean depths

i bought a red bull and poured a little out the driver’s side door as an offering to hermes, because i’m not particularly religious but i’ll take help where i can get it.  slammed that back in a few gulps and shook to bright-eyed alertness and ended up behind a slow-driving red pickup truck that guided us over about a hundred miles of mountain terrain

i thought, that’s just some construction worker driving between sites.  the roads are empty at this time of night, but it’s an interstate.  of course we’d end up behind someone.  this isn’t divine intervention.  this isn’t the benevolence of a god

i thought, but it can be a little magic.  if i want it to be.  

and it was.  it stays with me.

god help me but i’ve been writing this stream of consciousness for more than 30 minutes and i’ve said nothing.  i haven’t talked about the city, the parks, the people, the conversations, the books, the tv shows, the movies, the communities, the library, the animals, writing, reading, singing, acting, swimming, analyzing, creating, supporting, building.  and i can keep going.  i can come up with hundreds and hundreds of things i love and i can write paragraphs about all of them

so i’ll stop here.  you get the picture.  love is the life i’ve made for myself, the surroundings i’ve built, the quiet moments i can capture, the inspiration i pin, the magic i commit to memory.

i had to work so damn hard for every single bit of this.

i’ll be fucking damned if i let it go because my brain tried to trick me into thinking death is better.

-

2. spite

there are people who want me to die.

i don’t mean that i have a giant entourage of personalized enemies who curse my name and plan my individual demise.  although there have been plenty of people who have not liked me much.  probably some of them would enjoy my death.  i don’t give a shit about that

there are people who want me dead because i am a dot on a grid they dislike.  a faceless anonymous enemy who meets too many bad criteria with numbers and percentages and shrinking majorities and shifting public opinion

because i’m gay.  because i’m bipolar.  because i’m autistic.  because i’m a dropout.  because i grew up poor.  because my spine curves and my shoulders ache.  because i squandered my potential, because i didn’t have enough potential, because i didn’t love god enough, because i love the wrong gods, because i don’t worship, because i worship wrong, because i didn’t seek a husband, because i never wanted one, because i talk too much, because i can’t be controlled, because i chose to leave the fold when i realized it was suffocating me, because i’m ugly, because i’m gorgeous, because my body belongs to me

pick your poison.

this bothered me growing up, a lot. i knew i did not deserve to die. but if enough people tell you that you should, a little part of you will wonder if they’re right.  that little part might become bigger the closer they get and the louder they shout and the longer they wear you down

we know the rough shape of this story, i don’t need to tell it.  mine was messy and not triumphant and i survived more by chance than premeditation.

i’m older now.  by and large i’m still young as shit - i’m 24 - but GOD i am LEAGUES away from 15, 16, 17. i know who i am. i know what i want. i know how to get it. and when i don’t know that, i find out. i tell the truth.  i ask for what i want.  i use my time how i want.  i do what i want.

there are days that i can’t access the “love” side of the equation.  no finding poetry in birdsong or sugared coffee for me, thank you, i feel like shit and the world is awful and everything is too big and fast and cruel and everything wants me to die and it wants everything i love to die, too.  everyone i love.  it’s all garbage. the good doesn’t touch me

trauma is difficult to describe.  the difficulty is compounded by the fact that my trauma is influenced by my various neurodivergences, bipolar included.  i never know if i’m feeling what other people do.  i don’t know if i’m voicing unpalatable feelings others are afraid to express - or if i’m just othering myself, admitting i’m not as human as everyone else.

there is something malevolent and monstrous inside me.  i don’t touch it all the time.  but i don’t pretend it isn’t there.  it sits in my chest and molders or radiates or oozes.  it presses at my throat.  it curdles in my stomach.  it hurts what it touches, whether that’s me or someone i love or someone i hate.  it sets things aflame with no regard for the precious or the fragile.  it tears down walls and razes shelters and begs for apocalyptic rain.

i can give this thing names, clinical descriptors.  i know what it is on a diagnostic chart, in a ponderous article, in an academic debate, in a fiction novel, in a war movie, in a memoir.  there are a thousand ways to describe this thing.  the descriptors aren’t important.  what is important is this - i have learned that most people do not walk side-by-side with a tornado-hurricane-hellfire-weaponized-open-nuclear-reactor.  this is not a “normal” expression of human emotion, this is not me trying to ascribe power to “bad bipolar feelings.”  this thing lives in me and i know why it’s there and it is not designed to be held/silenced/muzzled/controlled by my body.

it does not help to pretend this thing does not exist.  it does not help to try to reason it away or ignore it or tell it to stop.  it wants what it wants, it does what it does.  possibly if i was better at therapy or stubbornness then i wouldn’t resign myself to that

but it is fucking EXHAUSTING to try to fight something that’s part of me.  to try to reshape it, rename it, pare it down, make it consumable for the masses.  it’s a war i have never won and it’s a war that i will lose if i keep fighting it.  i cannot fight with myself.  i cannot beat my monster into submission.  if we’re gonna battle like that, head to head, me trying to cut it down, me trying to be the hero, it rearing back like a fire-breathing dragon,

then it’s stronger.  it’s always stronger.

so i surrender.

but that’s not where i stop.

can’t fight it.  can’t kill it.  can’t muzzle it.  can’t reshape it, can’t disarm it, can’t contain it.  

alright.  

so what now.

if the surrender was a full giving-up, this is where i’d passively accept that i’m doomed to hurt and destroy everything precious to me.  can’t fix it.  will lose everything, will never experience or deserve happiness, will make the world worse simply by existing.

that sure does sound like impending-doom rhetoric.  hop skip and a jump from some dire-ass conclusions.  

so fuck that, i say. 

here’s a better question.

if it has to get out, then what happens if i control where it goes?

here’s the thing.

the monster doesn’t care what it kills or destroys or hurts.  

“have a conscience, care about things, remember love, stop yourself, don’t do this don’t do this don’t do this.” 

 losing battle.  lost war.

 it’s not the monster’s fault.  the monster doesn’t have complex motivations or hates or fears.  it exists to protect me through scorched earth.  a remnant of a chemical imbalance, maladaptive coping mechanism, bipolar crazy, traumatized injury.  it doesn’t know that its job is obsolete.

i can’t change the monster.

but my mind is a separate thing.  my mind knows what matters, what my priorities are, what i find precious, what i want to protect.  my mind remembers all the things the monster doesn’t.  

my mind has learned things the monster can’t.

when i fight it head-on, the malevolence is stronger than me.  but as i am, walking with it, sitting in my bed writing this while examining the void and the consciousness, describing it, quantifying it,

that’s when i’m stronger.

and with my mind as the stronger force, i can decide where the monster goes.  what it touches.  what it destroys.  what it burns.  where the ashes land.

i do not want to be a destructive person.  i want to be someone who builds, repairs, changes.  i want to make the world better for kids like me.  i want to stop pouring more gasoline onto a fire that’s been burning since long before i was born.  i want to believe - i do believe - that positive change is better than negative.  i do my best to plant good things and enact that positive change instead of becoming a beacon of wrath.

but there are a lot of kids surrounded by people who want them to die, and not all of them have a protective monster.

so it’s good.

when i’m depressed, my mind loses its battles.  my cognizance slips.  i forget why i care.  i forget what i want.  i forget how happiness feels, how to find pleasure in quiet moments.  

i don’t get depressed as often as i used to since my meds are adjusted correctly now.  but it still happens.  it will keep happening for the rest of my life.

my mind weakens and curls up and stops fighting, and the monster is always there.

it’s a very powerful thing when it wants to be.

it wants to survive.

the thing is, it knows there are people that want me/us/whatever dead.  it’s been fighting them forever.  die like they want?  my mind says, sure, what does it matter.

the monster says, nah.  our work isn’t done.  and fuck them, anyway.

so we get up.

-

so that’s how i stay alive.

i typed this for 90 minutes and after editing i’d spent two hours on this post.  i don’t know if anyone will read it all.  i don’t know if it’ll mean anything.  i don’t know if these thoughts even make sense, much less if i’ve conveyed the feelings i have.

i love being alive.  and when i don’t, i love being a monster.  it’s good.  all of it is good.  i’ve reconciled my uglier pieces.  it’s not one or the other, love or spite.  it’s symbiosis.  i need both, i love both.

no guarantees that this is helpful, but based purely on my own life experience, these are my tips for survival:

you’ll have to find your own roots.  i can’t give them to you.  

but it’s possible to dig them in and spread them far enough that one uprooted peg doesn’t shift your whole equilibrium.  

and when you’re tired, rest, and let yourself be tired, and find the reason why you’re staying in the world. 

 i’m positive there’s at least one.

figure out why you’re losing your battles and then change the game.

if you can’t win one setup, don’t try to beat the system.  adjust your strategy.

you’ll be surprised by what you can love when you stop fighting the disparate pieces of you, and instead figure out how to use them.

#i have several other questions to answer in my inbox if you've asked me st over the past few weeks #im not ignoring it im figuring out how to phrase my reply #replies #bipolar blogging #actuallybipolar #my writing #life advice #long post #REALLY long post #it's under a read more but if mobile deletes it i apologize #c ptsd tag #suicide m #ok to reblog #Anonymous

[suratan-zir]

why am I so easy to upset?

I just got a very nasty message from anon (written in russian, of course). I blocked that anon and tried to move on from it, but I can't. For some reason it really hurt me. I wish I hadn't deleted it and replied to that piece of shit.

In that message, among other things, anon accused me of not writing about the recent shelling in Donetsk, because "those people were not bearers of Western values, so I don’t feel sorry for them"

If the anon reads this:

you disgusting dirtbag, this is MY CITY, that shelling was next to my uni where I studied, I walked that street every fucking day. MY PARENTS are still there, in Donetsk. Yesterday, when I saw about the shelling, I couldn't calm down for many hours after. I cried, trembled and panicked. So forgive me for not posting about it.

I don't post about a lot of things.

About dozens of destroyed schools (like the one in Mykolaiv oblast, where 7 people died yesterday), about horrific airstrikes in Kyiv this morning

about Okhtyrka that has been completely wiped down by russia

about destroyed Kharkiv that used to be one of the most beautiful Ukrainian cities. About MARIUPOL where hundreds of thousands of people were (and still are) trapped by russia, constantly under attacks, without source of food and water, without medicine. Many THOUSANDS of civilians died in Mariupol, it's still impossible to count the bodies due to constant shelling. Mariupol was thriving for the last few years, until russia "liberated" it. Now there's nothing left but death, destruction and grief.

Why didn't I post about missile strike in Donetsk? Because russia has been doing it for eight fucking years. And it's funny even how those missiles never hit military bases or administrations. Even though every resident of Donetsk can tell you the exact locations of bases of separatist battalions, it's literally in the city, I lived a few meters from one. That day, an hour after the tragedy there was suppost to be a protest against the forcible "mobilization" (about which I wrote several posts). It was supposed to be on the Lenin Square, about one block from where it all happened. What am I supposed to write about it? It's scary and heartbreaking. I don't even know if there are any of my acquaintances among the victims.

My mother call me every day, shocked and scared, but not for herself. For the last few days she hears constant firing from Donetsk, right from her district. All those missiles fly to other Ukrainian cities and towns, majority most likely to Avdiivka and Kramatorsk, as these are the largest towns that weren't occupied by russia. My mother is scared for people there, because they live under incessant shelling. But I guess they don't show you it on your russian tv, do they, anon?

They don't show you Volnovakha that is now completely destroyed liberated by russia. You know, Volnovakha town near Donetsk, the same Volnovakha that lived under the tyranny of horrible (and mythical) neo-nazis for all these eight years and looked something like this:

but now thanks to the russian liberators it looks like this:

I really hope this anon is just a paid bot, but I highly doubt it. And to say that I don't feel sorry for the people from my city, my homeland...I can't even imagine what a monster you must be to say such things. Your country kills Ukrainians, including Ukrainians in Donetsk and the whole Donbas, but we still somehow should apologize for something. It's insane. This person also said that it's better to clean toilets in russia, than to live in my "poor-ass country" ("нищей стране" where "нищей" is used as an insult, I can't translate it well into English). I don't see anything wrong with cleaning toilets to earn money if necessary, but I'd rather clean toilets in hell then bathe in luxury living in fascist russia.

maybe I need to turn off anons, it hits me more than it should

[roboraindrop]

I was gonna throw this under a Read More but I guess there's no way to do that on mobile at all now dkdbsksb

Anyways here's that dumb sickfic that I'll probably get embarrassed about n delete later,,,

--

"I'm really sorry about this, Rain..."

The words of the gunman came out sounding breathless- fitting, as he had just spent about a minute straight coughing up a lung. He was shushed gently by his partner in crime, who sat by his bedside.

"Hey, no apologies. Come on." They nudged his shoulder a bit, frowning as they could feel the heat of his fevered skin through his button up. "It's not like you can help it or anything. You're sick."

Jigen grunted in response, hating to admit it. Admitting it felt like weakness, felt like he was giving up and admitting defeat. He wasn't weak, he refused to let himself be... But the way they looked at him... He knew that Rain would never judge him for showing vulnerability, and damn, did he ever feel shitty. "Still sucks that you got stuck with me like this," He muttered, "I'm sure you'd rather be--"

"Would you listen to yourself?" The words had a good-humored edge to them, and they reached up to brush some hair from his forehead. It was a little damp with sweat, but they didn't seem to mind. "Jigen, I'm not stuck with you, and there's nothing else I'd rather be doing than taking care of you. So shut up and let me take care of you, okay?"

He closed his mouth as he looked into their eyes, his lips slowly forming into a fond smile. They really were something else when it came to him. "Yeah. Whatever you say, doc."

"Good." They let their fingers comb through his hair, affectionately ruffling the slightly greasy strands and watching as he closed his eyes, resigning himself to this affection. It was their turn to wear that fond smile this time, but it faltered into something much more sympathetic as he shivered.

"Damn... Is there a window open somewhere? It's freezing in here..."

Rain surveyed the room before shaking their head, "Its the fever... Poor thing..." They moved their hand from his locks to cup his face, feeling the heat of his cheeks that were now red from a bit more than fever.

"Are their any more blankets?" He grunted, pulling the one he currently had even closer around himself, "I can't... Hh!" His breath caught and he ducked into the blanket to stifle two sneezes. "Ugh... Can't get warm..."

"Bless you," They answered softly, going a little starry-eyed for a moment. God, he had no idea how badly they wanted to hold him. He didn't know how much the sight of him suffering made their heart ache. He was so unaware of the affect he had on them, it was nearly infuriating.

Rain chewed their lip for a moment, running the risk in their head. Sure, they were close enough that it wouldn't be weird, and he did want warmth, but... They just couldn't shake their anxiety, afraid of being too overbearing, too much, too coddling. Jigen was a grown ass man, he didn't need to be babied. Still, the sight of him with feverish chills racking his body...

Fuck it. What did they have to lose?

They stood up from their spot, ignoring his questioning look and climbing into bed beside him. "C'mere," They said simply, opening their arms for him.

The marksman blinked. He knew his mind was muddled, but he just couldn't quite understand what they were doing, and why they looked so damn nervous doing it. Why were they getting so close? Didn't they know he was sick and disgusting?

"What're you....?"

"You want to warm up, right?" After a moment, he nodded. "Then get over here."

Jigen's brow furrowed. Were they not worried about catching whatever he had? "I don't know if that's such a good idea," He rubbed the back of his neck, "You could get sick."

They simply shook their head. He was so stubborn sometimes... Didn't he know that they only had a limited supply of courage, and that it was running out quick? This was their only chance. "Jigen... I don't care. Right now I care about you, and making sure you're comfortable."

With no room left to argue, he stared for just a moment. Yeah, he liked being close to them, but the thought that anyone would genuinely want to be close to him in this state was confusing to say the least. A sharp chill ran through him and left him hugging himself in its wake, and suddenly he didn't care if he was weak, sick, and disgusting. He relented, scooting closer to his partner.

No sooner than he came within distance did Rain reach out, leaning back against the headboard of the hotel bed and guiding his head to their shoulder. Almost instantly, as if their body heat had been just what he needed, the shivers stopped.

--

The clock struck three. Jigen was running. He was chasing someone. Long red hair and a pair of stunning green eyes. A laugh that sounded like the very heavens to him. She was laughing, smiling. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He was home, with Angelica, in the field they used to run away to. The color of the flowers around them as they ran were bright red, almost too bright.

"Oh Jigen, do you think we'll be together forever and raise a family?" She turned around, back to him, and began running again. Her flowing hair turned to a black headdress. The unnatural color of the flowers began to darken as he tried to keep up, but she ran ahead.

"Angelica! Angelica, wait!"

The sky was suddenly grey. Smoke. Debris everywhere. She had to stop! Why wasn't she stopping? He watched, reaching out for her as she stepped in the wrong place, activating the dormant bomb.

Again, he couldn't do anything. Helpless, watching the life drain from her eyes. He felt dizzy. He felt sick. God, he was going to be sick, he was sure, as he clutched her body and sobbed. His light, his home, his love, all gone in one burst. Come back, come back...!

"Come back...!"

"...Jigen..." Her voice sounded far away, faded, as if her ghost was calling him.

"Angelica!"

"...Jigen... Wake up..."

"You wake up, dammit! Wake up! Come back!" The tears flowed from him, his chest aching. Everything was aching. He need her, he needed... He needed...

"Daisuke!"

That voice rang a lot clearer to the criminal, and when his eyes opened he found himself not in the field, but rather in bed, in the hotel. His heart pounded in his ears, his body ached, and... He was being held.

"Hey, you're awake!"

He looked up at the sound of Rain's voice, lifting his head. The world seemed to spin a bit, and he felt something drip off of his face. He quickly swiped at it, looking down at his hand. He'd been crying.

"What... What happened...?" He coughed, shoulders hunching as he curled in on himself a bit. God, he felt pathetic.

"You must've had one hell of a nightmare," Rain responded, reaching to brush away a tear from his face once the coughing subsided, "You were talking in your sleep..."

"Sorry," He answered shortly, "Probably woke you up..."

"No, don't worry about that. I'm just worried about you..." They felt his cheeks and forehead, frowning. "I think your fever spiked again. I'm gonna get you another dose of ibuprofen."

They pulled away, but the second that they moved, his hand shot out and grabbed their wrist. "Don't!" His breath caught. Where the hell did that come from? The pit of anxiety in his stomach that churned and made him feel sick all over again opened up at the thought of them leaving. He didn't want them to go, even if it was just for a minute. He didn't want to be alone. "I'll be fine. Just... Just stay here for a minute, okay?"

Rain felt their heart ache as they nodded. "Yeah, whatever you need, I'm here." They returned to his side, and he laid his aching head back down, resting it on their shoulder. Their hands rubbed the back of his sweat-soaked shirt, and the need to apologize again rose up in the gunman. This apology died on his lips, however, when he felt Rain's other hand in his hair. "I'm here, Daisuke." They repeated, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

Crap. How long had it been since he'd been held? The way his throat tightened up and the tears pricked at his eyes again said that it had been too damn long. This fever was getting to him, scrambling his brain, making him emotional... He would never have let himself be this vulnerable with anyone.

Rain, though, wasn't just anyone... And all he wanted was for them to keep being there, and keep holding him.

#rain writes things #guns n puns #gorgeous gunman #selfship #self shipping #dumb self indulgent sickfic....... djdhsksnsv #long post

[cuttingthe-painter]

Cephin - Fae Boyfriend

Tumblr mobile deleted everything so I am reposting.

Hello everyone! This story is something I’ve been working on that is very person and special to me. Writing it has been incredibly hard, but has also helped me work through some of my own emotional struggles. I hope you enjoy!

Also my apologies for there being more story than romance in this fic, but I am working on part 2! let me know if you are interested in my posting it!

fae!boyfriend x human 

tw: angst, mentions death, mentions suicide, grief ((please let me know if I missed any TWs and I will add them))

word count: 3315

The days seemed colder without her. Longer and darker and empty. Vivian had been heaven; no matter where she went, she radiated happiness and it was contagious. She was contagious. Her radiant smile, her airy laugh always able to bring you happiness when you couldn’t find it yourself. That’s what she did; she came into your life and taught you no bad situation is ever truly bad, there is always some good to be found. Maybe that’s why this was so hard. How could she help you find the good when she was the bad situation? When she was the reason you couldn’t leave your bed? 

It’s been less than a week since you stood silently and watched as your best friend was lowered into the ground. Less than a week since you stood around Vivian’s grave with the small group of her friends and coworkers, not a family member in sight. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting hot tears fall across your face, soaking your pillow further. The funeral played through your memories, a nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from. 

It had been beautiful out that day; warm rays blanketed your body while you stood graveside, as if the universe was taunting you. It was sticking its finger in your face and gloating about stealing the only light in your life. That day had been the only time the sun made an appearance during the last two weeks of rain. Was that a good omen or a cruel joke? A reminder that if you had just listened to her, had checked in on her, she would still be here?  

You couldn’t cry at the funeral. You had stood there, listening to the quiet sobs around you, wondering why your own tears refused to fall. The pain in your chest had been so tight, so restricting, you thought it would cave in on itself. You couldn’t feel your legs as you walked forward to give the eulogy. You couldn’t feel your hands as you dropped a handful of dirt over the casket.   

You stayed behind when everyone left, falling to your knees near the headstone. Cool granite scratched your fingers as you traced the words. In Loving Memory of Vivian Pacini, Your Light Will Shine Forever. You couldn’t breathe; the air had grown heavier the longer you read the words. Salty tears burned your eyes, rolling off your cheeks and falling to the loose ground beneath you. All you felt was pain constricting your heart and tears burning your eyes, punishing you for the light you let extinguish. You hung your head, folding into yourself as guttural sobs ripped through your body. 

You don’t know how long you cried; the sun was setting when your tears ran dry. A crow sat in a tree a few plots down from you, cawing loud enough to echo through the cemetery. You watched it. Watched as its body tensed with each cry, as if it also felt your pain. It stopped its harsh cries and tilted its head in your direction before flying off. You stood, taking that as your sign to leave, and went home to your bed.  

You’ve been here ever since, only leaving your bed to take care of your basic needs. Your phone rarely lit up the past few days. Work only called a few times, but you let it ring to voicemail each time. Vivian was the only one whose calls you wanted to answer. Whose texts you wanted to read. You sat up and grabbed your phone , looking at the time. 11:30 am, Wednesday. Wednesday. Wednesday. She died last Wednesday.    

You both met every Wednesday for lunch; a ritual you had shared for years. Neither of you had missed a single Wednesday lunch since you first met. They were sacred, a pillar of your friendship. Last Wednesday had been the one and only time Vivian had asked to cancel. She wouldn't tell you why and you were mad.  

Your phone had lit up, Vivian’s name flashing across the screen. You were huddled under your umbrella, trudging through the relentless downpour towards the cafe you both always met at. You stepped to the side, taking momentary shelter under an entryway, and answered. 

“Hey Viv! What’s up?” you asked, yelling over the sounds of the street. You couldn’t hear much through the phone besides Vivian’s breathing. 

“Hey,” Vivian greeted, an emotion you couldn’t place dominating her tone. “I was calling to ask if we could maybe take a rain check for this week's lunch?”  

“A rain check? I’m already almost there,” you griped, “we’re supposed to meet in 10 minutes, Viv!”  

“I know, I know. But something came up.” You interrupted her with a heavy, exaggerated sigh. She hesitated before continuing, “Look, I know it's inconvenient, but I need you to understand. It’s important.” Anger and confusion battled in you, fighting over who would get to make an appearance on the call. You took a moment before blowing out a slow breath to steady yourself. She asked you to understand. She said it’s important. But it’s Wednesday. 

“We don’t cancel Wednesdays, Viv,” you stated, voice even and firm. “What’s more important than our Wednesdays?” She was silent; only static came through the phone for a long minute.  

“I can’t tell you, not yet. I’m just asking you to understand,” she pleaded, her voice quick and desperate. She cleared her throat when she stopped talking and the line went silent again. Maybe she was sick? She doesn’t get sick often, but that might be why she’s canceling? 

“Are you sick? I can get food to go and head to your- “  

“No,”  she snapped. It seems that she was the angry one now, even though she was the one canceling Wednesday lunch. “I’m not coming. You can either choose to understand or be angry. But I’m not coming and you aren’t coming here.” Your anger beat confusion in the battle and sent heat through your body, burning your cheeks and ears.  

“Fine!” You snapped, “Just ruin our Wednesday, whatever. I hope you have fun doing whatever it is that’s more important than our lunch.” You knew you were being unreasonable; she had asked nicely to begin with and swore it was important. You just can’t understand why she can’t tell you. Is she spending the day with someone else? A new friend who outranked you?  You yanked the phone away from your ear, ready to hang up. 

“I love you.” You barely heard her say it before you clicked end. She sounded how you felt, broken and rejected. You wanted to call her back and apologize, but you couldn’t swallow your pride. It was rare for you two to fight and whenever it did happen, it was over almost immediately after it started. You typed a quick ‘I love you but I’m still mad at you’ text and sent it to her before putting your phone up and walking back to your apartment. If only you had gone to hers. 

You pull yourself from the memory and stand; you weren’t going to let yourself miss another Wednesday. You might get there late, but dammit, you were going to get there. You pull on a pair of jeans from the floor and a hoodie draped over your desk chair. In the kitchen, you packed a quick lunch. With a sandwich, chips, and water packed in a bag, you walk out the door and towards the cemetery.  

A crow sits perched on a tree guard in front of your apartment building. Its head tilts to the side, watching you walk down the stairs. You hesitate on the last step and stare at the crow, thinking back to the one that had been watching you at Viv’s funeral. The crow’s body shakes with a hoarse coo, pulling you from your memories. You smile at the bird and continue down the sidewalk. As you reach the end of the road and turn, you hear wings flapping behind you. The crow breezes past your head and lands on a lamppost up ahead, its eyes fixed on you once again.  

It continues like this the rest of the walk to the cemetery; every time you are nearly out of the bird’s line of sight, it flies ahead and watches the next portion of your walk. Once in the cemetery, you sit next to Vivian’s headstone and watch as the crow settles onto the same branch where you first saw it. While its constant gaze on you was unusual, it filled you with an odd sense of comfort. 

The ground beneath you was damp and you felt the wetness seep through the seat of your jeans. If you had been thinking, you would have brought a blanket to sit on. But you weren’t thinking. All you knew is that it was Wednesday and you were late for your weekly lunch. You pull your sandwich out and sigh shakily. All you want is to hear her voice again. To hear her bubbly laughter. To see her sitting across from you with that vibrant smile across her face. That vibrant smile that had been so fake. How long had she been faking it? Hiding how she really felt behind that screen of happiness?  

Grief clenches its wicked hand over your throat as anger burns your eyes. How could you not have known? You knew her better than you had known yourself. Or so you had thought. That liquid rage burns down your cheeks, falling to the earth that blanketed your best friend. In the distance, a gravely caw sounds and pulls your attention to the tree. The crow stills when your gaze lands on it. Somehow, when you and the crow look at each other, you don’t feel quite as alone. 

You look down to your sandwich and pick at the bread, tossing it in the direction of the tree. The crumbs don’t land as far from you as you want, but the crow doesn’t seem to mind. It jumps from the branch and flies down to the bread, only a few feet away from you. It watches you cautiously as it pecks at the crumbs. You eat your sandwich as the bird works at the crumbs. When the bird finishes eating, you expect it to fly away. To your surprise, it just settles down into the grass and watches you more. 

Your new crow friend sits there the whole afternoon. It doesn’t move when others walk past the site. It doesn’t move when your sorrowful whispers to Vivian turn to inconsolable sobs. It only moved to fly alongside you when you began to journey home. Every following Wednesday when you went to have lunch with Vivian, the crow was outside your apartment waiting to join you.  

You wake in a cold sweat one night, images of your dream still flashing through your head. Vivian throwing her head back in a loud laugh. Vivian sprawled on her living room floor. Vivian’s whispering to you, eyes full of mischief. Vivian’s empty eyes staring at you as you push through her front door. Vivian furiously scribbling a note in your seminar before folding it and passing it to you. An envelope propped up on Vivian’s living room table, your name written across it.  

You ran from your bed, dropping to your knees in the bathroom and spilling the contents of your stomach out into the toilet. When you’re finally done heaving, you wipe your mouth before standing and brushing your teeth. The images continue replaying in your head, taunting you. Reminding you that you were supposed to help her. To save her. And you didn’t. The unopened envelope pushes to the forefront of your mind now. You stalk to the kitchen and grab it off the counter holding it furiously in front of you. You glare at it, wishing your gaze could set fire to the damn thing.  

Why did she have to write you a letter? Why couldn’t she have just talked to you? Told you how she felt to your face? Maybe then it would have felt easier to forgive her. To forgive yourself. You didn’t want to read this alone. You wanted her here with you, comforting you through it. Before you could think, you were pulling on shoes and a jacket before rushing out the door. 

The streets were empty at night. There were no sounds of passing cars or chatting friends to distract you on your walk. There was no crow joining you, guarding you, on your walk. The cemetery was dark, the lampposts that were there were scattered and didn’t cover the whole area. You don’t need light to find her grave, the path to it was engraved in your memory. You let yourself crumple when you made it to her, your knees sinking into the soft earth and head hanging forward. 

“Why did you have to do this?” you sobbed. “I just want you back. I just want to be able to forgive you.” You know it's time to read her letter. You know that, yet you can’t bring yourself to tear it open. To pull it out and unfold it. Minutes pass before your shaking hands begin tearing open the envelope. You pull out the letter and almost choke when the smell of roses wafts up to you. Of course it had to smell like her. You blink away the threat of fresh tears before you start reading. 

To my best friend-

 I’m so very sorry. Please know that what I’ve done had nothing to do with you. I’ve always felt so empty. So cold. I can’t take it anymore. I hope you know how much I love you. Please forgive me.  

Viv 

Tears dripped from your cheeks, staining the page smudging the ink. She had written so little, yet it was enough to crack your heart. To shatter it into a thousand little pieces. How had you never known? How had you not been able to see behind her facade? Your body trembled, silent sobs ripping through you. A familiar cooing wasn’t enough to stop the sobs, but had you looking up to find where your friend sat.  

The crow dove from the tree, gliding towards you. Its wings began to extend, smoking out from its body. Curling through the air around it. The jet black smoke continued coiling, spreading out until all you saw was an opaque, inky cloud in front of you. Without thinking, you extend your hand to touch it. It was too far away but you need to touch it. To know you weren’t losing your mind. You lean forward, extending your fingers as far as you can. A pale gray hand reaches out towards your own, its cool fingers grazing against your skin. You instantly recoil, clutching your hand to your chest while trying to steady your breathing. 

“Please don’t be afraid,” a gravelly voice murmured from the dark cloud. The smoke began to retreat into itself, forming into a crouched figure. Before you knelt a man. Or what appeared to be a man. His pale, gray skin was contrasted by his dark, ornate clothes and a cloak that blanketed around him. Long arms were pulled tightly into his figure, one still reaching forward to you. His face was sharp, all angles, framed by black hair that fell to his shoulders. You have to remind yourself to breathe when you look into his eyes. Pitch black eyes stared back at you. Eyes that you had been staring at for months. 

 “That’s impossible,” you choke out, frozen in place as he slowly moves to you. 

“Maybe so,” he whispered. “I suppose it is not common for your world.” Your world? What does he mean your world? 

“Who are you? What are you?” you manage to ask, watching as his hands settle onto his lap. He was less than a foot away from you now, close enough for you to reach out and touch.  

“My name is Cephin.” 

“Why are you here, Cephin,” you demand, anger and impatience building up in your chest. A soft smile settles on his as he watches you. 

“I am a guide. A caretaker.”  

“What does that mean? How does that explain why you’re here?” His short answers were wearing your patience thin. How dare he interrupt you now? When you were so close to understanding why Vivian was gone? 

“I take care of those who are broken. Those who are lost. Those who are ready to leave your world and step into mine. I was here to guide your dear friend. I had finished and was ready to take my leave but I saw that you needed guidance just as much as your friend.” 

“I don’t want to die,” you rushed you, falling backwards and scooting away from him. 

Your hands slipped on the dewy ground and fell out from under you; the ground connecting with your back knocked the air from your lungs. Cephin moved forwards to lean over you, a look of understanding set on his face. 

“I know this, my dear. But you want to understand. I can help you.” His smile was so warm, so welcoming. He reached out, offering you a hand. You grabbed it, noting how cool his skin was against yours. When you were sitting, he pulled his hand from your grasp. 

“How?” you asked, defeated. “Can you bring her back? Can you send me back in time so I can stop her?” 

“No.” He shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I can explain to you how everything works. I can show you that you have done nothing wrong. I can show you her. Show you that she is okay. Death is inevitable, my dear, and nothing you could have done would have prevented this outcome.” You believed him. You don’t know how, but you knew he was telling you the truth.  

“Show me then.” He gave a curt nod before moving closer to cup your face in his hands. The moment his palms connected with your face, everything went cold, as if life itself drained from your body.  Behind him, the world fell away and was replaced by darkness. You never broke your gaze, his dark eyes being the only thing reminding you this was real. That you are real. And then you heard it. An excited, breathy voice followed by bubbly laughter that made your heart wrench. 

“Look,” Cephin whispered, turning your face with his hands. You saw Vivian, sitting with a man made of sunshine. He resembled Cephin in build, but was his opposite in all other aspects. Dark, honey skin complimented by flowy white robes and long russet hair fell down his spine. Glowing white eyes stared at Vivian, who held his hand in her own.  Cephin turned your face back to his too soon. You tried to look back to Viv, but he held your face firmly. The world he showed you slipped away and you were back in the quiet cemetery.  

“Was that real?” you whispered, grabbing his hands with your own. 

“It was,” he assured. His hands adjusted around yours, lacing your fingers together.“That is my world. You see, there are some people who were not made for this world. They never feel as if they fit in with this life. So then we come and we guide them to the world they belong in. “ 

“But what about me? Life hurts without her; it is so cold and lonely. My heart is broken, Cephin.”  

“Then we fix it.” He brought your joined hands to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. 

“How do you fix something you can’t touch?” He stopped, pressing kisses to your hand, and looked up to you, a sad smile on his lips. 

“I am not sure, but we will find a way." 

[ let me know if you are interested in a Part 2!]

#fae boyfriend #exophilia #exophile #monster boyfriend #fae x reader #monster x reader #angst #coping with grief #grief #tw: death #tw: suicide #tw: mentions of death #tw: mentions of suicide #monster lover #my writing #long fic #my fic

[permanentmochakisses]

will there be a day katie s*perg*rl fans stop caring about colin morgan to the point they have to talk about him all the time about how he’s just oh so terrible? and thus, I have to keep blocking their urls?

stay tuned.

#probably around the time I stop ranting about this so #a long ass while yikes sorry folks #also I'm on mobile so I can't put this under a read more I apologize #rantrantrant #stop talking moey #to be deleted

[tisfan]

I’ve been doing a lot of reading recently; between the @bannedtogetherbingo2020 kerfluffle and the BLM protests 

(one thing that I’ve been doing recently that seems to annoy the living SHIT out of my fellow White People is correcting “riots” to “protests.” 

“Were you near the riots --” “I did not attend the protests, but I did donate to the medical fund for the man who was injured by removal of the statue on High Street.”

This seems to drive people absolutely batshit, and I will continue to do it. These are not riots and if they have similar characteristics with riots it’s because cops are treating everyone not even like criminals, but like hostile enemy forces.)

Mostly what I’ve been reading about is the difficulty that POC fans have in getting their voices heard in fandom. That the history of fandom is primarily the history of White Fandom. 

(this is long, so there’s more under the cut - I also tell stories A LOT so brace for personal experience asides)

I’ve been thinking about comments I’ve seen by black and brown fans about trying to get away from racist stories on A03. And trying to figure out if there’s a way to give people what they want -- a way to tag posts/topics/writers/ships on a permanent block list. I know I’ve spoken with several fans who have extensive filter scripts when they go looking for a new read and that shit is EXHAUSTING and doesn’t work necessarily on mobile devices.

I, for instance, have QUITE A LOT of stuff blacklisted on tumblr because I find P*nnyW*se the Creepy Teeth Demon to be horrific and I do not want him on my screen. And the movie’s name is IT for fuck’s sake. I can’t blacklist the word “It” and still expect to see any content at all. So, thinking about how much trouble I had keeping PWCTD off my screen gives me some sympathy to how hard it’s got to be to filter out something that people aren’t even tagging! 

I mean, honestly, most of the time that people tag a fic TW: racist, they already KNOW the character is acting in a racist manner and they’re condemning it. When people don’t realize the character is racist, or a word, or a trope is racist (mystical black character, for instance) they don’t tag it as racist because they either don’t know, are unconscious of their own bias, of they don’t care that it’s racist. 

In the same manner, Person A who’s writing fic they know is dub-con will tag it, and Person B who thinks stalking someone and climbing in their window at night is romantic will NOT tag the same scenes as dub-con.

Which doesn’t make it any less jarring when I suddenly run into a fic that I would absolutely count as noncon/dubcon that’s not tagged for it. The intentions of the author don’t matter TO ME at that moment, what matters to me is that I’m trying to breathe while the romantic interest on my eReader is saying “aw, that’s so sweet.”

So, there’s multiple questions that come up for me -- I’m not a computer person, so while the A03 code is available for use, I wouldn’t know what to do with it if I tried. 

Is there a way to tag something from the outside? An overlay or side program (like an Xkit for A03) that would allow people to permanently blacklist certain tags or authors, tropes, etc? I know there are some hosting sites (unfortunately with ads) that basically funnel stuff from A03 to a reader. There was a big kerfluffle about it at the beginning of the year because OMG, someone is making money off my fanfic! protip, no, they weren’t. they were making money off someone else’s desire for a custom skin. The material itself was never leaving A03, it wasn’t stored anywhere else. A03 does not currently have a phone app and they don’t plan to have a phone app.

So, would it be possible for someone to write a phone-app that did a custom filter for the material. Blacklists are certainly possible, right?

Because here’s the thing; a lot of people who are racist don’t know that they are. Or they don’t care that they are. I have personally had a couple of hard conversations about racism (I’m not even going to call it “unconscious racism” because I am a grown-ass adult capable of reading, so if I act in a racist manner, I’m going to fucking own it. And apologize for it. And try to do better.) in my own work -- whitewashing a character at one point, using a quote from a black woman as a title for a story about Wanda. I’m still not entirely convinced that a Jewish/Romani woman is “white” in any sort of traditional sense. That said, I’m not a POC and I’m going to listen to the person who’s upset because of my usage and not my own feeling of “I don’t really think Wanda counts as white.” This may be partially because WANDA is whitewashed as shit in the MCU and a lot of people in the fandom do not read comics.

That further said, I made the changes as requested and apologized for it in the work/notes. And felt very uncomfortable when some of my white friends said “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” I’m not sorry I had to deal with it. I wish I hadn’t DONE it, but I am glad that people felt comfortable enough with me to call my on my bullshit and I was able to make corrections and amends.

Still-- All of this boils down to: People are not going to, in good faith, tag their own fic as “don’t read this, I am racist.”  

Everything that gets done on A03 -- which is an Archive -- is voluntary by the author. A03′s policies are pretty much “tag to warn” or “tag that you’re NOT tagging to warn.” The only action A03 takes for inappropriate tagging is to ask the author to update the Warning to match, or choose not to warn. If there’s no compliance, A03 will assign the fic “choose not to warn.” But that’s the extend of their policies.

We all know this history; no censorship. Censorship is a slope that leads to fanwork disappearing. Because here’s another fact: it doesn’t matter what the intention is of censoring a story; that censorship is going to be applied badly. 

So, if A03 was going to ban racist fic, how long do you think it would take before the reporting system was flooded? Even legit reports of racism are going to take a while to read through, judge, contact the author, wait for possibly updates or retractions, and then removal.

A03′s staff are volunteers, and I understand there aren’t very many of them. There are six MILLION works on A03. No one could hope to read them all with a careful enough eye to catch all instances of harmful texts.

And we all know what’s going to happen: it’s easier to delete all stories that get complaints, rather than read them.

So, Fan A gets Fan C’s fic taken down for racial stereotyping and Fan C tells all of her friends, who go on a crusade to report every single one of Fan Q’s fics in retaliation (not because Fan Q did anything “wrong” but because they happened to post a blog about racial stereotyping in fandom) And we’re right back to strikethru.

Yet, censorship is one of those things that makes me very, very nervous. Do I think a white boy who writes a self-insert rape fantasy novella about violating and murdering Zoe Quinn should be allowed a platform? No, I don’t. (And neither did Amazon, who took it down fairly quickly once it was brought to their attention. But that’s only one case, where there are probably thousands of books that are personal attacks and are left merrily alone.)

There are a lot of books on the banned book list. If people thought they could get away with it, those books would be unpublished, unpersoned, black bagged. 

We all know that the rules get applied badly, by the people with the biggest mouths and the loudest complaints. So banning content on A03 does not seem to be the solution.

(Personal story time again, just skip this if you want.)

I came into fandom backward; I was a traditionally published erotica / romance writer first and moved into fandom after the collapse of several small publishing houses for various scandals that I won’t bore you with but you can look here if you want more information. 

Several years ago, I was in an anthology that i was Very Proud of, and I really like the editor I worked with, wanted to work with her again. She sent me a premise for submission that left me cold. Which is to say, she wanted to publish cuckolding stories. 

[x] <-- warning, that link is REALLY harsh and filled with some real WTF moments, from someone who’s pointing out the racism inherent in the system.

Especially when you consider the Mandingo aspects of the fantasy, it’s easy to see why just the existence of it is repulsive.

I declined the invitation to participate because I was deeply uncomfortable with the subject matter. 

I’m not saying that to get praise for my behavior. 

Because when the subject came up again about two or three years ago in some fandom discourse, I sided with my friends who were defending “no censorship, no matter what.”

(End of personal aside.)

Despite my personal feelings about the issue (ew, this is icky and racist and horrible and I would never write it) I still believe that I don’t have the right to say what someone else can write, read, or enjoy.

I’m trying to find the path between “this sort of reading material is harmful and I don’t think it should have a platform,” “this should be heavily tagged to avoid upsetting people,” and “there are people who feel that way about gay, non-christian stories as well.” And what’s more, I’m trying to find it in a way that doesn’t stifle authors’ voices.

Even with my idea of an overlay, that’s putting the burden on the people most affected-- someone would have to rate stories as “racist” or “not racist” (and even then, it’s seldom that clear cut. Microaggressions abound.) and the people best capable of doing that would be readers of color. Which hardly seems productive. Or fair. 

“Don’t like; don’t read” is often the calling card of fandom writers. I’ve said it myself. That’s what the fucking back button is for. But when I say it, I mean “I don’t want to hear your wank about Tony Stark in my inbox” not “I don’t want to be called out for racism when I wrote a story.”

https://ggmadeit.com/blog/why-i-cant-just-knit-the-story-of-a-black-knitter-during-civil-unrest/ -- I’m including this link because this piece really made me think. I can’t ever put down being a woman. I can’t read or watch horribly misogynistic work without being upset, and I have trouble sitting in the room with my male friends who insist on watching it and want to say “it’s only a movie.”

Being black is part of someone’s life. It can’t be erased just because it’s not convenient. Just because it interrupts your good time. It shouldn’t be put aside because “it’s just a story.”

As fans, we have to do better.

We all know what it’s like to be pushed out, to be made second best, to be asked when we’re going to get a real hobby, when are you going to grow up, why did you spend money on that merch? So we need to reach further. 

I don’t have answers. And even if I did, I’m not the one who needs to give them. What I need to do is listen to the people who have answers and HELP THEM get what they need.

We need to do better. We need to BE better.

#writing #fandom #racism in fandom

[kichimiangra]

I only needed 5 minutes...

A story of my day.

I Dunno who actually wants to read this? I wouldn't even want to. But I feel like I need to vent. The last couple of weeks have been fucked... but yesterday I ruined the day... again. I've been doing that alot lately. Almost every other Saturday since August. I hope venting makes me feel better if nothing else. I'll probably delete this later because I don't like leaving a notable paper trail of this stuff that anyone can find. Nothing but trouble comes of that. When I'm on my pc I'll put this under a read more because I dunno how to do that on mobile.

-----------------------

The Holidays are almost over and I am running out of time to get done. One thing in particular, a gift, is unfortunately gone. My mom has orchestrated all of Christmas, even down to the gifts other people are getting for her... and she's not happy about it. She feels like nobody is willing to lift a finger to help her make Christmas happen. I wanted to surprise her.

She loves making soap. I'm not good at sculpture but I wanted to make a custom soap mold for her. I began with the original that would be used to make the mold. It took days upon days of trying and retrying to get it satisfactory, including one failure where my momnpoked her head in and I slammed my chin down on it so she wouldn't see, though my dad swears my mom never pokes her head into my room... but like she does???

Anyway... I finally had my original, though I think I could do better there's not much time left. I ordered a silicone mold kit and went to work... and it failed immensely. BUT there's still a little time left! I'll order another. Now THIS time was frustrating.

My mom wasn't being nosy... but literally EVERYTIME I got the stuff out to work on she would be there by sheer coincidence! Wait until she's asleep? Dad will have a coughing fit and wake her up and she'll wander out into the kitchen. Wait until she's out of the house? She never leaves. Wait until she does? She forgot something and comes home unexpectedly and I have to quickly hide my shit. She's not doing it on purpose but it gets more and more frustrating that I just can't just fucking get this done! Like... Jeebus Christmas! My dad says this doesnt happen but... it does????? And then I fuck up my second attempt. Fuck... I have less time...

But that's okay! I have enough time to order another kit! I've only spent 80$ so far with nothing to show but third times a charm!!!

Once again I just can't get the time to get this done. She's always there, or up, or poking her head in. It's almost cartoonish! But I have not time left. It has to be today.

My folks go down for an afternoon nap and I immediately get to work. I get toward the end of working, all's going well. I only need 5 minutes...

Then my dad gets up and my moms not far behind. Fuck... I can't move the mold yet... fuck. I just need 5 fucking minutes! I'm wrestling with curious cats. Fuck... My dad is useless at maybe luring my mom away. Fuck... my mom insists she needs to be in that same corner I'm working at. Fuck...! I just need five minutes!!!

Then of course disaster strikes... there's a crack or a hole in my original and silicone is leaking out! I had barely enough silicone to even make this happen! I can't afford to lose anymore! Fuck! I need to fix this! I just need 5 minutes to fix this!

I'm getting frustrated to the point I am starting to do that angry sob thing. I take it to another room now that I can move it. I just need 5 minutes to fix this! My parents follow my to the other room to find out what's wrong. Honestly my dad knows what I'm trying to do so given the context what do you thing is wrong dad? Clearly something has gone wrong with my mold. I tell him to go away cuz really I'm trying to fix this and I need to be left alone. I need five minutes to fix this... but he won't leave until I tell him what's wrong. I try to whisper it to him, the mold is leaking, I don't have enough silicone, nowhere local sells it, I can't get more in time. But his hearing has gone so he can't hear what I'm saying! He wants me to speak up but mom is just around the corner in the other room! I need him to fucking go. I'm frustrated and I tell him rudely "Just fuck off! I have to fix this!" Rude and inappropriate I know... but I just need 5 fucking minutes to fucking fix this I am sobbing at this point.

My dad leaves but of course my mom comes in next and wants to know what's wrong. I'm being very curt with her using my body to block the sight of my mess, telling her as calmly as I can, which isnt very calm, that nothings wrong, no she cant help me fix it, I'll tell her later, go back to the kitchen. I don't swear at my mother. That is important. I just need 5 minutes to fix this!

Finally the leak stops but so much silicone is on my baking tray that the mold is no longer submerged. I use a plastic spoon to get as much as I can back in the mold but it's not enough. I'm covered in silicone up to my wrist, and it's also in my hair. I put it up on a high shelf because the cats helped ruin mold #2 and sit down to mourn the loss of the only gift I had for my mom. I had no backup plans and this ones a bust.

I just need 5 minutes to calm down. I was rude to my parents and need to apologize to them, but first I need 5 minutes to just calm down and breath. Maybe I can find another gift in time? Maybe I can just wrap the original and promise in the nearish future when I can procure more silicone that she will have a mold? First I need to calm down. Then I need to apologize.

My dad comes into the room and chews me out about how rude as I was and how I need to go apologize to my mother. I hate when they do this, now when I apologize it's because I was told to, not because I took the initiative to. My folks can't comprehend I would otherwise apologize if not being told. All I wanted was 5 minutes to calm down.

I go and apologize. I am not the good guy in all of this, I am an adult. An autistic adult but an adult nonetheless, and being rude to my parents was inappropriate regardless. I didn't get my 5 minutes but off to apologize I go. "I'm sorry I lashed out guys. I was doing something, it didn't go my way, I got super frustrated and you guys were just there by coincidence. I didn't mean to lash out." I did mean what I said.

Mom didn't see it that way. My mom is very passive aggressive and honestly I get to be one of the reasons today she hates living here in this house and around us because all we do is "abuse" her physically and verbally. She hates living here and she hates being around us. I apologized again because great. Once again Kacey ruins everything. I need to stop being upset about this shit it's like every other saturday! She continues about how much she hates it here. I leave the room trying and failing not to sob.

My mom also gets up and goes to another room. Whatever she's doing is loud and she's quite verbal about it. I go back to my room, I just need 5 minutes to cry and calm down again. I still have other shit to do for Christmas too.

My mom comes by with a box and puts it on the table, with a sharpie she writes "Christmas soap fail 2020" and tells dad to take it to the basement. For context we had been making soap kits for xmas gifts. I had coworkers who got me gifts. I was dissuaded from buying them much in return because we were makin by the soap gift bags. Those where the soaps... I have nothing in return to give my coworkers. I don't have enough time... all the while my mom is still going off. Later my dad says it wasn't all my fault, he had done something to upset her earlier in the day, then my older sister, I was just the straw that broke the camels back. But honestly in this family it's whatever baby wants; baby gets." And what baby wants is to be mad at me.

I go upstairs and hide in my brother's room. Surprisingly despite the fact that my mom acts like he is one of the only people who care about her and defend her, he was the first one to tell me "Fuck her. If she wasn't going to be mad at you it was going to be something else. Now watch me play Aladdin on Sega genesis!"

After a while my younger sister came over to do her laundry. I began to quietly tell her what the flippity floop she walked in on. In the middle my mom came out and started chewy us out. Y'know, don't let her interrupt us from talking privately amongst ourselves about how much of a bitch she is. Her words not mine. And to be fair I was telling my sister about how I lashed out and caused this. But my mom doesn't like when we sibs talk privately, though she also doesn't like if we overhear what her and my dad talk about privately. Double standards I know.

I thought maybe if I explained what was up maybe she'd understand? So I out myself. I was trying to make her a surprise gift. She orchestrated ALL of Christmas and I just wanted to surprise her. Everything started going wrong and I was getting frustrated because she woke up and entered the room at an AWFUL time and I couldn't get me and my wip gift away from her seeing which made everything worse. Now one thing to know about my mom, explaining oneself is equated to excusing your behavior... and she does not tolerate that. She chews me out more. I'm sobbing again.she insists I told her to fuck of and get away from me... even though I did NOT curse at my mom... at all. I was rude but I did NOT say that! I repeat that I had just wanted to surprise her. She tells me about how unsurprised she is that this is how her day ends. She tells me that she doesn't want whatever trinket I was making for her because now it's tied up in the baggage of having apparently told her to fuck off and get away from me, that she doesn't want another in a long line of ass-kissy gifts because that makes being rude to her okay. It wasn't an ass kissy gift in response to being rude to her... it was a custom made Christmas gift for her... because I thought she'd be surprised? Because I thought it'd make her happy? Though I guess it doesn't matter... she doesn't want it anymore. She doesn't care what it was. Now it is a bad reminder of me treating her like everyone in her whole life has except specifically people who are dead. I have ruined quite a few things.

Honestly... I love my mom. I love her so much and I wish she could be happy. I want to do things to make her happy. But when she tells me that I am just one of the things that make her wanna run away to another state and tell no ody where she went and love alone... I'm not gonna sugar coat it, I wish I was dead.

I am a 29 year old autistic woman. I feel like a failure at growing up. I have stressed part of my colon into not working anymore. I still live at home with my parents and work in a minimum wage fast food job. I have few friends and I speak to them infrequently, but if you are at a place where I call you friend... we could not talk for 10 years and your still my friend until officially broken up. I surround myself with animals and I play with a digimon tamagotchi. My sisters have grown up jobs and drive and live in an apartment away from home and I feel like a failure because I missed all these adulting milestones. I feel CONSTANTLY guilty about everything. I feel like I can't say "hey let's do a shark mermaid themed charity zine and all the proceeds can go to buying preservatives for Rosie the dead great white shark!!!" Without the guilt at the mere idea that someone will tell me "Wow... you care more about a dead shark than say... real living people? You know there's no water in Flint right???" Without feeling guilty that... yes? I like a dead shark more than living people? I don't like people? Also shark is cool? I feel guilty that if I call a day off work SOMEONE ELSE has to be inconvenienced to work my shift. I feel guilty playing World of Warcraft because I'm accused of "Chasing a time I view as better" instead of growing up and moving on. I feel guilty about wanting to ask for someone else's time because they too have shit to do. I feel guilty about so many things...

And I feel guilty when my mom says I'm just another abuser in her life. Her fuse is so short it takes almost nothing to set her off. You have to be calm and happy all the time or she has to "walk on eggshells because anything she does can set US off!"

When my mom is mad at me like that... I hate myself. I have some dark thoughts on a normal day but when she's mad at me in this specific way... I wish I could just unexist. Or go to sleep and just not wake up. I can always logic my way away from the dark thoughts... but they're there nonetheless. And when I'm one of the things that makes my mom want to run away? Then I just wish I was dead really. Or just unalive. Not since I was 14 at least. I don't want to die. Just cease to be. I don't know if that counts as being suicidal but I'll tag for it anyway.

I don't normally talk about this shit with people. I don't wanna look like I'm crying out for attention or help or pity. I don't talk to my folks about it because there's never a good time. When I try to hint it's not taken seriously, and when things aren't bad I don't feel as bad. Keeping quite hasn't made me feel better so maybe just typing this out and being heard will make me feel even slightly better? Like a diary entry.

There's more to the morbs in my life but for now I leave it as this. It's 7am, I am in bed and have dried silicone in my hair and under my nailes, and I have work today. Who knows, maybe it'll all blow over like it never happenned like the bipolar way things go in my family sometimes. Maybe I'll get out of work and my folks will be happily dancing in the livingroom to sugar pie honeybunch like teenagers in love and I will be the only one stressed about it.

Don't take this post at face value. This is only my side. The human brain is flawed and the human ego will remake memories to protect itself. I normally turn to siblings who where there at the time to tell me if what I think happenned really happenned that way.... but I've also been informed that my siblings don't want to deal with me, and don't have the balls to call me out on my bullshit so will tell me whatever I want to hear, so really... I don't even trust that my recount of events even happenned that way.

Maybe I'll continue the story in another post?

And now

I go to bed. Goodnight. I am a tired bitch. I probably only just need 5 minutes to fall asleep.

P.s. I'm sorry if you read all that. It's a bummer. I know. I'll hide it under a read more when I'm on pc.

#trigger warning: mentions of suicidal thoughts #Kc's morb diary

[disastrousjest]

Confessions of 2020..

(tw: covid mention, mental health mention)

I wanted to post a little something that might put out some insight for my followers, friends, mutuals alike. With the recent battle I had with some personal blogs attacking me over some posts I made because of the images, regardless of the purpose of the post. I just wanted to let everyone aware of why that sent me over the edge and why I handled it the way I did. Please note: I will not be apologizing for what I said, I do feel as though those that tried to reach out to me did not realize the purpose of the post. And while I understand now I should just tag things like that differently, I will not be apologizing for stating the fact that this is a rp  blog and I do not appreciate personal blogs attacking me over something like that. That being said, I will not be bullied off tumblr or this account. Because I love JJBA and Joseph Joestar. So for future reference, if you don’t like my content, unfollow it. Don’t bother sending me nasty remarks because I do not have the time for those types of things.  But I wanted to open the doorway to some insight for you all who have been paying attention or who just might care to know why I came off so incredibly outraged by that little bit. Because to me it was just the topping of a whole bunch of bullshit as is 2020.  This whole shithole of a year began in March. I got promoted at work to salary. That’s 35k a year my friends and that’s a hell of an upgrade for someone who barely makes a living wage right now and came from a working poor family. I really thought my life was gonna turn around. For once my fiance and I wouldn’t have to struggle so hard and we could afford to do everything we talked about doing. Well guess what--2 weeks after the announcement of my promotion my work place shut down because of Covid-19. Nothing new, lots of people and places were shut down. So fine, it pushed back my transfer and such. That wasn’t a big deal.  Enter June 2020. We re-open and my manager calls me into his office to talk to him about said mentioned promotion. They are suspending it, means it could be pushed back until we could lift the restrictions. Understandably so, I would just have to keep my old position, an hourly one, until they were called back. Now the months pass, June becomes July and enter August.  I find out about a week before the company announces it at the start of August, the position I was promoted to has been eliminated indefinitely. There is a chance they could come back, but right now they have no idea when or if that’ll happen. Which means that whole part of my department no longer exists at my place of work. I mean it’s a good thing I had my hourly position to fall back into or I’d lost my job. But that salary raise? Gone. 

Rewind back to July. I get very very VERY sick. And have to test for covid-19 the first time. Only because I am so sick and have a roommate with asthma I have to quarantine myself for 14 days. So 14 days I am locked in my bedroom alone, sleeping alone after 3 years of being with someone in bed. My meals are being left at the door for me and the only room I am allowed to enter is the bathroom, but only after it has been sanitized. Only for my results to come back negative. And now... we enter September 2020. Two major things started in September. The first, our old, senior dog became very ill. Started losing weight, wasn’t eating, losing hair, etc. So we knew his time was coming soon enough. Mid-September, I wake up one morning while our dog is dying mind you, and I cannot move my body from the waist down. Every time I tried, I’m greeted with a shot of pain straight up my spine that feels something like a hot poker being stabbed right through my spinal cord. Very very painful. I end up bed-ridden for a day or two because I cannot move. So once the pain subsides, I go see a chiropractor. Shocking (not really) announcement that my sway back--to which I was diagnosed with 10 years prior from a bad car accident--has gotten worse. What does  that mean exactly? Well--my spine bends in like a S for those who don’t know, which means my lower back dips inward deeper inside my body and my tail bone curves out. Now along that dip there are 3 or 4 vertebrae that are especially messed up. The bones have become staggered out of place on top of one another, just from the muscles pulling the bones out of shape since my spine doesn’t flex the way it’s supposed to anymore. (And it hasn’t for years). The pain before this was tolerable, it would ache from time to time but never like this. Now I am crippled more or less.  Here’s what that means: my mobility became extremely limited. At first in the am when I woke up I couldn’t move from the waist down for the first hour or two after I woke up. Then when I was finally able to move, I had to use my forearms to literally drag my lower body upright (still painful). Once I was able to manage that, I had to gage how strong my legs were to support my weight. And at first walking wasn’t terrible, but as the treatments began--doctor appointments, spinal adjustments, and physical therapy--to correct my spinal issue, nerve damage became clear. So now on top of this horrible pain, I had to deal with weak legs. Because of nerve damage, my right leg especially became weak. On days my back would hurt especially bad, my right knee would collapse out from under me. Which meant falling to the ground and not being able to stand up or walk for sometime there after.  Now imagine dealing with not being able to support your own body, not being able to hardly walk and your dog dying at the same time. So while I”m trying not to focus on the fact that my mobility is limiting me on what I can and can’t do, my fiance is upset about this. Our dog (then weighed about 100 or more pounds) could no longer walk either. His back legs and hips were giving out as his health declined. I did not have the strength in my own legs to help carry him because his weight hurt me too much and would cause me to collapse. I had to watch my fiance struggle with this practically all by herself while I sat on the floor, only able to use my arms to help with what I could because my legs and back were too weak to do the work.  This carried on into October. Our dog passes away and that alone is hard for me. I still kind of wonder if I wasn’t so weak when he got sick if I could have helped prolong his life just a little longer. I couldn’t hardly look at him when he passed and I couldn’t look at anyone else. I was very angry that my legs and back had failed me. They had failed everyone. So yes, that weight still lingers over me. It was so bad that when it came time to take turns digging his grave, I struggled with the shovel. Because I couldn’t stand up or be bent over to move the dirt, I got on my hands and knees and I took that shovel in my hands and used my arms and shoulders to dig. I wasn’t going to continue to be useless because of my limited mobility. I felt I already let him down and everyone else by not being able to help take care of him while he was still alive and sick. This was the least I could do.  November comes. Things are calm now, for a while. Not bad. I finally get some braces to help with my back issues (which still continue). I keep on with my physical therapy, trying to heal and help my fiance through her mourning over the dog. My mobility slowly begins to improve, though the doctor informs me it will be a very slow process. Small steps he says. But he is still confident he can fix my spine without back surgery so I can walk again, like a regular person. The limit I am able to stand and walk increases with the help of my braces and I begin taking herbal supplements and drinking herbal teas to increase the rate of my recovery. It seems to be working better than over the counter medication. The rest of 2020 seems promising.  Here comes December. On the night my fiance and I decide to go out on a date to celebrate our 5 years together. I get a phone call from work. One of my co-workers tested positive for Covid-19 and I was exposed. I am now suspended from work without pay until my test results come back negative. A real mood killer for the night. It gets better, we get home and despite the dinner being pretty somber the rest of the night seems fine. We watch movies and spend time together, finish wrapping gifts for Christmas. Then we realize the cat is missing. He’s been missing all day and all night. Nobody has seen him.  Two days prior, I had taken my cat to the vet because he was sick. Again, weight loss, losing hair, etc. I was worried he may be sick. Well it’s cold outside and here it’s been snowing so it’s very cold. I set something of mine outside and a literbox for smell. And then a plate of food. ....that was almost 4 days ago. There’s been not a sign of him. I called the county shelter and they didn’t have him. My fiance suggests he was sick so... maybe he got out of the house and went somewhere to die. My gut tells me he’s not coming back. And my heart is breaking, again. Again. I am wondering if I did something wrong. If I would have kept a better eye on him, I knew he wasn’t  feeling right. I somehow feel like I let him down.  And  then I logged into tumblr and saw those comments. Those asks people were sending about the damn images I posted for the 12 days to Christmas. And they just kept coming. I deleted the other ones, I stopped replying to them and finally just deleted the post. The Christmas spirit had been sucked out of me. I feel as though the world has began to mock me for believing the year could get better back in November. I know one thing, the holiday won’t be as bright this year. Not for me. I hope everyone stays safe and has a good holiday. Maybe 2021 will be more promising, but I”m not banking on it. Not anymore. Thanks for reading.  I hope you all understand now why I have been so slow with my replies lately. As my mood goes up and down because I have been struggling with the weight of all this and depression, just trying to hang on from losing hope that for one I will be able to walk again normally and then just the loss of my animals... everything. I can’t write and I refuse to send bad quality responses and starters for you all. I hope this puts some insight  on why I was so horribly upset the other day.   So thank you to all my friends and everyone who has been so patient with me on all my blogs. Jotaro (dmgdstar) and Johnny (rotatingstar) and this one of course. I will be catching up to everything very soon. I’ve already made a good dent in them.  Your patience is always appreciated. 

#ooc #L speaks #my 2020 confessional #this is my yearly story #just a fragment of my cursed life

[matteredloyaltyaa]

                                                       NAV.

                GOOGLE DOC (RULES/ABOUT/VERSES).

                                         PLOTTING FORM.                                             HEADCANONS.                                                   WISHLIST. 

Tumblr mobile friendly version of my rules under the read-more.

DISCLAIMER:

I do not claim to own or have created this character, though the headcanon posts you see here are of my own interpretation of this character and events. I am private and selective, meaning that I only write with mutuals (those who I follow and who follow me in return), and tend to watch who I follow back and/or write with for my own comfort. However, my askbox is open to everybody if you wish to talk to me or the character on this blog, but I may not answer everything put in there.

PASSWORDS:

Due to my social anxiety, I don't have a password in these rules, nor do I send them in. I read everybody's rules and pages before following and usually before interacting.

ACTIVITY:

This is my main blog, which means that I am on it most of the time. However, I do suffer from some mental disorders, namely anxiety, depression, and OCD. These tend to affect how I interact ooc and can make me overly distant sometimes, and it's usually nothing anybody has done to me but my own mind running off on it's own about things. So, I do apologize for that. I may be absent from blogs during bad periods or make a couple posts here and there that I always delete after an hour or two stating that I'm in a bad way. Everything will be tagged.

HIGH HONOR: 

Please note that I base my characterization off my raw play of this game, in which Arthur is HIGH HONOR and you may see more of that toward the end of his main verse. However, I still play him as a morally grey individual, especially as he’s trying to find his own mind on things in a way, but ultimately he leans more toward honorable moral choices (or what are considered honorable for the life he leads). He will do both good and bad things. At his point in time, I’m not exactly leaning towards adding a low honor verse, as his portrayal within the fandom has turned me off completely and after playing that route myself, I don’t really see much reason to. However, that may change if I end up finding a way to put a spin to that.

BLOG & PERSONAL TRIGGERS: 

Please note that I don't have many triggers myself outside of suicide and overly anxiety inducing content (jumpscares, purposely paranoia inducing posts, etc). 

There are some themes that I would like to avoid writing about in detail or at all. Namely, I WILL NOT write out anything like incest (the John/Arthur ship tends to fall into this category for me, along with Arthur/Dutch and Arthur/Hosea, so I will say that it's a NOTP for me), abuse (outside of mentions in regards to backstory, all forms), pedophilia, and rape. Also, I should note on a personal side that pregnancy can make me a little uncomfortable due to some gender stuff with me. I don't mind mentioning it, nor do I mind parental relationships when it comes to Arthur and sometimes outright adopting children in certain verses, but threads and interactions solely based off pregnancy can make me uncomfortable. It's difficult to explain but I would like to avoid it. Really, when in doubt, just ask.

This blog does and may contain triggering material, due to the nature of this game and the character. The biggest ones that will be present here are violence, guns/shooting, crime, and illness. I should also note that, due to the fact that this game takes place in 1899, there may be some triggers related to the views of this time period. Arthur himself is rather progressive and doesn't hold those views himself, but that doesn't mean the people around him don't and may be referenced in threads. Everything will be tagged as I catch it and where needed.

SPOILERS: 

This game has been out for at least a year now. I will not be tagging for spoilers anymore, so please follow or read at your own risk if you are working through the game for the first time.

WRITING, SPEED, and NSFW:

My general writing style is paragraph/paragraphs. I don't mind one-liners but I usually only reserve those for starters that I’m writing and I tend to expand on the length of those as I go. I format my posts, mostly just some minimal spacing, small text (not sub), and all-caps words, bold, and italic usage. If this bothers anybody or makes it hard to read, please let me know and I can continue our thread in a non-formatted way. I also use icons, but I will follow my partner's lead on iconless rps. I can also be a little long-winded with my replies but you aren't obligated to match that. As long as I don't get like three sentences back to five paragraphs, we're all good.

I'm a slow rper. It may take me a day or two to get around to things, both asks, threads, and messages. I don't mind a nudge here and there but if it feels like you're pressuring me, I will warn you and block if it continues.

I'm 24, the muse is 36 in his main verse. We are both over the age in regards to nsfw. Smut is kind of rare for me and I don't do it often on Tumblr, however if we're in a ship and you want to write that over Discord, I may be open to it. That said, too, I will ONLY write nsfw with people and muses who are OVER 18. There is no exception to this. That noted, too, Arthur's in his 30's so a massive age gap may not appeal to him much either.

SHIPPING: 

I’m going to sound like a hardass but: I am a highly selective shipper on here, and the ships that do appear on this blog are ones I have had for quite some time. Everything of a romantic nature will need to be discussed with me and the chemistry has to be there for me to agree to shipping. I’m not an insta-shipper, nor am I accepting to pre-established romantic relationships outside of those in canon. They will need to be discussed with me like every other ship and may be subject to me disagreeing to do it. Otherwise, I am multi-ship, despite being highly selective, and I’m fine with discussing them but please be aware of this.

FOLLOWING, DRAMA, AND DUPLICATES: 

I will usually give someone a day or two of active posting after following before I unfollow if I don't receive one back. I don't mean anything personal by that, I'm simply making sure I don't accidentally like or send anything in if we aren't mutuals. That said, too, I am selective with who I do follow. If you're a sideblog and you don't have that blog easily accessible on your main blog or you don't message me about it, I'm likely going to miss it. I don't follow rp blogs that are run more like personals if only to keep my dash slower. Also, generally, if our writing styles don't mesh, you're rude to me, or you post nasty things, I will likely unfollow/block/or not follow back.

I don’t interact with or reblog callout posts. I don't have great patience with ooc drama and will likely unfollow if there is a lot of it being posted by you.

Following and being followed by duplicates (other Arthurs) is completely fine with me. However, with the mentality sometimes, I won't go out of my way to follow first if only to avoid making anybody uncomfortable by me doing so. I'm also non-exclusive for general interactions, so multiples of the same character I am fine with. I may take mains, however, which means these blogs get priority over plots and focus in headcanons, etc.

CROSSOVERS AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS: 

I'm crossover friendly so long as I know the character/fandom. That said, if I just can't get into it or make it fit, I won't force it.

I love original characters and you guys are cool with me, however I do need to see at least some stats or a verse we can interact in before I follow/follow back. I'm also fine with your OC knowing Arthur in their backstory but, again, romantic stuff needs to be talked over with me first.

STARTER CALLS: 

I've found that I don't enjoy doing starter calls. I may do them here and there when the urge strikes, but the best way to interact with me is to message me or continuing memes sent or sent to me. I'm also more than happy to like other starter calls, too, if you want to throw them my way.

QUESTIONS?: 

No. Go away. >:(

I’m kidding. Just drop me a message, I’ll get back to you. I also have a Discord available to mutuals, if that’s what you prefer. I promise I’m not as much as a hard ass as these rules make me seem.

ABOUT THE MUN: 

Hey! Thank you for reading these if you do. A little introduction here: my name is Rory, I'm 25, Canadian and operate mostly out of the GMT-7 time zone. Though, I tend to post at odd hours so that may not be too noticeable. I'm nonbinary and I prefer they/them. I'm a full time university student, which means that I may disappear when studies pile up or my time is divided. That said, I do enjoy talking to people when I'm able. My IMs and Discord are always available to mutuals, just drop me a message.

#failed: rory has died . || ooc . #;pinned #[Figured I could do a more mobile friendly thing on here to pin #or more mobile friendly to Tumblr lol] #/// long post #[I hope the readmore works on the dash rn #if not I'm sorry]

[robogreaser]

This is a Long Time Coming...

It’s been a relatively hard task to sit down and make sense of, well, a lot of things as of late. I could chalk it up to the state of the world, but it’s been troublesome for significantly longer than that.

Long Story Short Version: I’ve been in a hell of a place, mentally, physically, and otherwise.

The proper story is a hell of a lot more involved than that and I know damned right well it’s going to take me a fair bit to explain myself and my various professional and social failings over the past... while. I’m gonna try to contain this under a read more, of course, but I apologize to mobile users if tumblr fucks that up.

Okay. That took a fair more bit of effort to figure out than I remember. Which, I suppose, is a fair enough bit of a segue into one thing that’s happened to me.

Tumblr has been deteriorating.

Whether I like to admit it or not, tumblr has been my go to social media platform since... 2011. Yeah. I’ve spent the vast majority of the decade here. I’ve seen a lot. Sure, I’ve lurked elsewhere, but I really cannot stand the interface and nature of a lot of other social media, especially the likes of twitter. Unfortunately for me, this place has been in constant decline for years now at this point. It extends well beyond the porn ban, but that’s a whole separate discussion.

I’ve lost touch with a lot of people I care about, some vanishing into the ether, some ghosting me, some just drifting into other communities or onto other sites. I’ve come to terms with the majority of this. It’s been happening for a while. It’s the very nature of digital relationships. It hurt, and I do think it’s contributed to a fair bit of stress and depression that has resulted in my... withdrawal from online spaces. It’s not a major factor, but its here, it’s present, it’s a factor in all of this.

I’ll be honest in that, well, I’ve tried to make this post several times over the past several weeks and months. It’s hard. Talking about my issues, using ‘I’ and ‘me’ so much in a post... it’s a bit jarring. But I’ll try to suck it up.

It’s been ten years (god I fucking hate time) since I’ve graduated high school. Yeah. It’s a fair thing to say that, on reflection, that’s incredibly jarring. The vast majority of that time has been... relatively unstable. I spent a fair few years working on my book and my publishing journey, now all but scrubbed clean from this blog (more on that later) and... well... Trying to be an adult. I’ve applied to, gotten accepted, and had to withdrawn from my dream school twice in this time. I’ve had a fair few jobs, nothing worthy of my resume, and lost all of them in one form or another, whether being fired for retaliating to my shitty work conditions, or, well, quitting for the sake of my own health during this pandemic. There has been a lot of family troubles. I’ve been through a lot of... ‘varied’ living situations, some horrendous, some just stressful, some, like now, actually really good compared to the others. And for the past few years in particular, it’s been constantly one thing after another, nonstop.

In short, progress is slow, but it’s happening. I don’t care to delve into a lot of these sorts of personal details lest this get to a ridiculous length, but that’s the short of the stuff I’d rather gloss over.

I’ve been on a health... Let’s call it a journey. I’ve been on a health journey. Over the past few years I’ve gone through the long processes of being diagnosed with ADHD, discussing my options regarding my depression and anxiety, and finally getting myself on a medication regimen that works. And then, because the health care system is a joke, I was without insurance. I had been off my medication, an absolute lifesaver and release of burden on my garbage tier brain, for eighteen months. Until last week. I think it’s fair to say, between my revolving door of living situations, employment, and then being un-medicated in a continually more stressful environment... That this is the main reason I’ve been absent. I’ve had no focus. There were weeks where I had no drive to do anything outside of routine that others depended on. I had not only gone back to how I was before situating my mental health, but in some ways, found a worse state.

Finances have been slowly eating away at me. I had been working a part time retail job until November, which made decent enough money, but not nearly for the amount of work and responsibility I was handling. I got fired. I found work with one of the big, corporate postal services. The pay was phenomenal, but it began to actively destroy my health, mainly physically, but also mentally, especially considering I was working a graveyard shift. Eventually when I began having prolonged health issues there, and then a whole lot of the symptoms of covid-19, on top of them turning me down for an entry-level position outside of the package handling, I had to quit. This was shortly after the lockdowns, in early April, and I refuse to look back despite people like my parents insisting on me trying to get work there again. Sure, the pay was phenomenal compared to anything else I had until then, but I cant continue to sacrifice my health. As of now, I’m unemployed, and... well...

I’m working on my commission queue. It’s art. It’s stuff I’ve owed friends (luckily those who are incredibly understanding and good to me) for an embarrassing amount of time, even before moving to and from Oklahoma at the end of 2016. I’m terrified of being the person who is known for taking commissioners’ money and running.

I know, I’m not good at giving updates. I’m not good at a consistent work schedule. I’ve had numerous tech failings over the past few years that constantly slow my roll on any progress I have made. Hell, I’ve had files corrupt despite being two thirds of the way complete when transferring from one computer to another. I’ve lost my cable for my external hard drive. I’ve had my tablet go to hell and back multiple times. But I am working. I am trying. I am sitting down as often as I can between looking for work and managing family nonsense to try and get my workload tidied up.

Which... brings me to my next point. And one I’m rather... ashamed about.

I have used trello, infrequently, since taking on a large load of commissions, and despite not being faithfully updating it and checking back on it, and using it to it’s fullest potential, I had kept, at the minimum, a list of all the work I did owe people using it. Well. Dumbass me attempted to use a mobile app. In short, in an effort to try and make myself tech literate and allow me easier access to my queue, I ended up deleting it. Somehow.

I’ve gone through and slowly flagged all my paypal notices and various emails concerning my commissions. I’m putting it together again. I’m trying. Granted, I am damned sure I am going to be missing someone, somewhere, somehow. I know it. I’ve got a shit brain, and despite my need for organization and minimalism, I don’t put it past me to have missed something along the way.

If you have commissioned me, please, do not hesitate to reach out and contact me regarding your commission. I owe every last one of you a massive apology for my continued failure to produce what you have paid for.

More likely than not, I have a wip already started somewhere, and if not, I have a slew of reference and thumbnails already compiled together somewhere on my computers. I am not ignoring this work. It’s been painfully, embarrassingly slow. It’s been one obstacle after another. But I have every intention of doing this work, and, likely, upgrading the quality of the finished piece past what my commissioners have paid for simply because I do feel bad about the wait time.

I have been inexcusably unprofessional. I know this and I am working as best I can with the time and resources I have to correct it.

In a similar vein, as I mentioned before, I have slowly been cleaning up my rather unimpressive publishing attempts. I’ve gone through and cleaned this blog recently, deleting reference to my work by name and the process of trying to get myself published. I may have missed a few posts here and there, but for the most part I would like a clean slate in regards to building a social media platform surrounding my written work. And this is the part where... I am probably going to be the most upfront and honest with you reading this than I have been publicly before.

I am not ashamed of who I’ve been online these past ten years or so, but it reflects only a sliver of my personality, a sliver of who I am as a whole. I catered to a very specific subset of who I am in pursuit of finding acceptance in communities much larger than myself. I’ve learned a hell of a lot about myself in that time. I figured out what’s important to me, my health, my sexuality, my relationships and my long term goals. I’ve found a very important group of friends. I’ve found people who understand and empathize with a lot of the things I have been through, experience, and am at my core.

But the fact of the matter is, this hypersexual, sci-fi aesthetic-oriented, very open person is only a singular facet. And it is not nearly enough of a reflection of who I am, or who I want to be as a professional, public adult. Will I always be gay for robots? Yes. Will I, when time permits and creative energies are present, continue to make nsfw art? Absolutely. Will I always have a toe dipped in erotic literature and the like? Most likely.

But a lot of me, a lot of my emotion and strife and feelings regarding most things in the world, are completely separate from this. It’s separate from me liking porn on twitter or having a homestuck roleplay blog. It’s separate from who I am in real life, with my boyfriend or with my family or with my work. And I have been dwelling on this, sincerely, for a while. I need to allocate more energy into my life. The separate life offline and online too, where I am pursuing an actual professional career, because, at the end of the day, I want to be an author. I want to have a career telling stories. And, in my time online, I’ve found a lot of skeletons in authors’ closets, the kind that really put mine to shame, and the kind that will always be a footnote to their work. You know the ones.

I want my creative work to speak for itself. I want people to be able to enjoy what I do without a specter, without my time and energy having to explain to a future audience why it is I had explicit thoughts about x,y, and z. I want to be able to write a book, write many books, and have people enjoy them without a footnote about me, a person with a sexual life and a history exploring it through years of depression and isolation, clouding it. It’s not fair to my work. It’s not fair to a future reader. It’s not fair to me.

I’ve got several social media accounts made and slowly coming to life that I need to spend more time with as I try and pursue this new, second leg of a very long journey into publishing. I’m not going to link those here, now or in the future. It’s likely a few people I know and trust have access to them. But I am, effectively starting over from scratch trying to build a platform as a writer. And it’s hard. Juggling that, alongside all of the things in the world today, alongside family and my relationships, alongside my commission queue? It bears down on me and if I didn’t have experience handling more than one thing at a time, I might trip up more frequently. Hell, I forget to post and use those new accounts regularly.

But I’m trying.

I’m not moving away from my current social circles or hobbies or anything like that. I’m not abandoning any fandom or friends or communities. But I am going to be trying to balance myself more thoughtfully moving forward, past just commissions, past just writing.

I’m here. I’m moving forward, slowly but surely, and I am making an effort to improve.

#jesus christ mike shut up

[mythiica]

Reader x Nobunaga Oda {Ikesen} - Lady Toyotomi {Day 2}

Title: Lady Toyotomi

Fandom: Ikemen Senogku

Character: Nobunaga Oda

Genre: yandere!!!!

Warnings: YANDERE AND BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF DEATh

Word Count: 1220 words

Other comments: day 2 trick! sorry this posted late! something happened on mobile and it deleted :( buT it is here now!!!

Hideyoshi offers you a hand as you step out of the small boat so you do not slip on the wet wood. “Thank you, husband. I have been sitting down for a quite a while and my legs are stiff.” 

          Behind Hideyoshi, a voice calls out playfully. “Perhaps a tour of the castle will help you? It has been a long time since you have seen Azuchi, Lady Toyotomi…” 

         You bow for Lord Nobunaga Oda when he reveals himself. He looks handsome as ever, and your heart leaps forward for a moment before you remember that your husband is standing next to you. A momentary shame before Hideyoshi steps in front of you and wakes you from your transe. “My lord, thank you for hosting us for the next few months.” 

         “Of course! The moment I heard that your home had been flooded, I sent riders to meet you. I am happy that you are safe though.” 

         Nobunaga’s charm is still something you have not found a rival. The way he smiles and his hair curls over his eyes makes your legs go soft. You sneer at Hideyoshi when he turns his back to you and walks with Nobunaga towards Azuchi. You cursed the moments you couldn’t spend with them, but you simply smile and walk forward with the maids that swarm around you. There would be other opportunities for you to speak with Nobunaga, even if you had to make them yourself. 

The following week, you are taking your breakfast in the gardens when Nobunaga walks by with Hideyoshi. They linger in the doorway, so you watch them from the corner of your eye. Keeping your fingers crossed under the long sleeve of your kimono, you pray that they see you alone and come to keep you company. 

         Hideyoshi turns and walks down the hall, but Nobunaga steps into the garden. He pads over to sit next to you, and he takes one of you tarts to eat. “A wonderful way to start one’s day. These are delicious! Where did you find them?” 

         “I made them, my lord.” 

         Nobunaga finishes the dessert and smiles widely at you. “Did you?! I don’t suppose that you could make some more for me…?” 

         A smile creeps across your lips and you bow your head. “Of course, my lord.” You take a sip of tea. “But don’t tell Hideyoshi. I don’t allow him to have them save for holidays.” 

         “How cunning–” 

         You shrug. “I have my ways.” 

         Nobunaga takes your cup of tea and finishes the drink for you. His eyes are narrowed as he searches for a flicker of hesitation across your face. When he finds none, he smiles as well. “Your secret is safe with me, my lady.” 

You knock on the door to the tenshu and wait for a response before walking inside. Nobunaga’s voice rings from inside, so you slip past the door and set the tray of desserts down on a table. “My lord, I have brought you the treats you asked me for. May I leave them here?” 

         Nobunaga sets his brush down “Of course. Why don’t you sit with me for a bit? I have been reading these documents for the past few hours and my mind is growing weak.” 

         Pulling your skirt back, you kneel formally and pour Nobunaga more tea. “Your mind is not weak, my lord, you are only tired. Why not rest for a bit? Here, lay your head on my lap for a few minutes.” 

         You take a pillow and lay it over your legs. Nobunaga hesitates, but you smile warmly. “I don’t bite. Come.”

         He shifts and moves the desk over before leaning back and resting his head on the soft pillow. Nobunaga closes his eyes and you brush your fingers through his hair as to soothe him more. The warlord melts against your touch and his eyes flutter softly – he has fallen asleep. 

         However, the moment your hands graze his ear, Nobunaga shoots up. “Fiend!” 

         Between laughs, you shake your head. “It was an accident! I promise.” Holding your hands outwards, you apologize to Nobunaga. “I merely wanted to push your hair back.” 

         Nobunaga touches two fingers to his forehead where the warmth from your touch lingered. He is about to sit back down when Mitsuhide enters the room. He clears his throat and beckons Nobunaga to the balcony. 

         Standing up gracefully, you catch Nobunaga throwing glances at you. He is half listening to what Mitsuhide is saying and half admiring the curves visible through your too tight kimono. You clean up Nobunaga’s desk and rearrange the papers carefully for him as they discuss matters beyond your station. After a few moments, Nobunaga steps towards you and thanks you for visiting. “Would you pass this message on to Hideyoshi? It is crucial that he travels to this location tonight.” 

         Giving your lord a quick smile, you bow and retreat to the halls. 

Another few weeks later and Hideyoshi returns from his mission unsuccessful. He had read the note wrong and gone two kilometers south rather than north, leading to the destruction of an important Oda base. 

         Nobunaga is furious – not directly at Hideyoshi, but more so at the happenings that conspired afterwards. Rebel forces approach Azuchi and he has much to worry about now. When you visit him at noon, he does not notice your presence until you wave your hand in front of his face. 

         “Ah, Lady Toyotomi.” 

         “That is me.” Your brows furrow and you cup Nobunaga’s face before brushing your thumbs over the bags under his eyes. “My lord, when was the last time you slept?” 

         He pulls away from your touch and looks down. “I have no time for sleep now. I must take care of this.” 

         You are about to say something else when Nobunaga interrupts you. “Have you seen your husband? I need to discuss some things with him regarding the soldiers coming from the west.” 

         “My lord–” 

         “Have you?” 

         Swallowing hard, you shake your head. “No, my lord. I have not seen him all day, actually. I thought I saw him riding away this morning.” 

         Nobunaga runs a hand through his hair and leans back. “Dammit, where did he go…?” 

They find Hideyoshi’s body a few kilometers from Azuchi and come to the conclusion that he was killed by the rebel forces. No one questions the weeks you spend in solitude to mourn him. When you do emerge, you spend time with Nobuanga. He quells the uprisings and starts to dedicate more time to you. 

         You kneel before the shrine and keep your hands clasped together when Nobunaga sits next to you. Leaning against him, you take Nobunaga’s hand in yours. His skin is warm and comforts you, so you bring his hand up to your lips to kiss his knuckles. “Thank you for meeting me, my lord.” 

         “Of course. How are you feeling?” 

         “I have been better…” 

         Nobunaga sighs slowly. His arm goes around you and Nobunaga holds you close. “Is it a bad time to formally ask to court you?” 

         Your face lights up and you throw yourself at Nobunaga. 

         He is finally yours. 

         Who would have thought that to get the attention you so desired, you had to do something as simple as removing a single person.

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen nobunaga x reader #10daysofyandere #yandere #cybird #otome

[warofnationsapology]

Our Apology

Hello everyone,

With everything that has happened as of late in regards to the warofnationsrp, the admin team wanted to address the situation.

First of all, we want to start this off by apologizing for how much anger, hurt, and offense we have caused. We created this group to be a fun community in a historical setting, and we fully take responsibility for any mistakes we have made in the building of that setting and its plots. From the beginning, we have only wanted this to be a fun, welcoming, and inclusive group. We’ve always asked all of our players to come to us immediately if they had questions or concerns. Whenever issues arose, our admin team tried to find solutions with the priority being to respect our players and the RPC as a whole. We realize now that our attempts to do that thus far have done more harm than good. We take full responsibility for our mistakes and deeply apologize for their effects. We understand now that the best thing for us to do is disband completely, admit our mistakes, and apologize from the bottom of our hearts.

We also wanted to explain our side of what occurred and why we’ve made the decisions we have as an admin team. This is not to justify or excuse our actions or to shame anyone who was hurt by them. We know now that we have made some horrible miscalculations in our management of these issues. This is purely for us to provide context for those miscalculations and context for all sides of this story.

When this group began, there were 4 admins. Out of the 4 of us, the poster of the original callout was the most experienced admin, and the most involved in the RPC as a whole outside of our group. Due to this, we tended to rely on her guidance more often as we learned and grew ourselves as admins. When it came to going through applications and checking faceclaims for diversity, This admin (Admin A hereforth for the sake of clarity) provided us with some wonderful tools to help us check for ethnic miscasting and determining ethnicities correctly. Those tools, and others she introduced us to continued to be used by our admin team even after she left. Near the inception of the group, War of Nations also received two questions concerning colonialism and racism issues of the time period depicted in the group. The first was addressed publicly by Admin A on the original War of Nations main blog, which has since been deleted by Admin A. However, what was roughly addressed in the answer was that we were an AU historical group and because we were an AU would not include themes of slavery, racism, or ethnic oppression in order to create a more inclusive environment. When the second message was received, it was presented to the Admin team by Admin A with the following comment:

Since she was the most knowledgeable about these sorts of issues, we followed her lead when it came to it.

The other concern that was presented by the poster of the callout was that Admins A and B made the decision to step down from the group, there was a disagreement about how their characters leaving would affect the major plots of other players with whom they were involved. For the admins who remained, our primary concern was the enjoyment of our players and assisting them be able to maintain the rich plots and characters they had already invested so much into. However, we wanted to respect them by asking their permission before writing any such things into a plot drop. We agree that our persistence in pursuing these plot changes was disrespectful, and we apologize for not agreeing to the terms sooner. In the end, we did realize that we needed to respect their characters, so we agreed to not use the plot suggestions concerning their characters. We worked with each of our players individually to adjust their stories so that we could restructure their plots to remove those characters fully.

The conversation following ended with one of the current admins (henceforth known as Admin C) apologizing if she came off as rude or defensive. Within the same hour of Admin A and Admin B saying they were leaving, Admin C had received some terrible news from her family, so she admitted that her responses might have been more emotional and rude because she was processing the news while trying to work on switching everything over. This is how it ended:

With Admins A and B complimenting Admin C as an admin and sending well wishes, we were under the assumption that they were stepping away on amicable terms and were okay with the RP continuing.

When the initial callout post was made, the remaining admin team discussed that our plot did need some clarification as we absolutely did not want to promote colonialism or ethnic and racial oppression. Because of this, we decided to write a disclaimer explaining further the intent of this roleplay and its policies to clarify and reassure the RPC of our mission for this to be a fun and inclusive historical AU roleplay. We once again encouraged any questions and concerns to be brought to our attention, and we did respectfully conduct conversations with several historical RPers outside of our group who approached us about our disclaimer and agreed that we handled it in the best way we could. With these policies in place, we continued on, making it a purpose to be aware daily of concerns not only within our group but in the RPC and media as a whole.

As more callouts have surfaced, War of Nations received multiple anons requesting that we delete the roleplay completely. At this time, we also assessed the plots and storylines that our players were currently pursuing or carrying out, and found that none of them contained any parts of the overarching plot, any of the topics presented as a concern in the callouts, or other areas that had been brought to our attention at the time. Instead our players were focused primarily on major political disputes between major countries in our Old World sphere of roleplay as well as personal relationships and character development. Our players seemed to be enjoying their interactions. We knew the best course of action was likely to delete the RP,  we wanted to let our players still be able to continue their interactions and enjoy the work they had put into their characters in a safe environment, and under a new structure which would be not include any topics of colonialism or racism. There would be no overarching plot to this roleplay. Only a generalized time period in the 1700s in which the characters they’d created could continue their personal plots such as family feuds or new romances. We were also concerned that if we tried to continue on Tumblr, our players might be attacked because of their association with the original group’s plot. We also realized that many of our players were eager to roleplay more often but were limited when it came to computer access. The Admin Team thought that by shifting to Discord we could start this roleplay on a clean slate with the old plot completely removed from it all as well as give our players with limited computer access more opportunities to interact on mobile.

As we started to set things in motion, we realized that moving to Discord would be equally as detrimental, and so we realized that the best decision was to disband completely. Due to the admin team having personal obligations (i.e. family, work, and caretaking responsibilities), we were not able to address this properly before others called us out on the mistake we had already realized and planned to address. That is when we recognized fully that we were continuing to make mistakes that were hurting our players and the RPC as a whole and needed to completely disband.

In regards to players that have expressed having experiences discrimination or oppression in the group, we were shocked and heartbroken to learn that they felt this way. These concerns were voiced by some of our original RPers who have stayed with us, and we never had any conversations surrounding these concerns between players involved and our remaining admin team. Additionally, the remaining admins had no knowledge that former admins had been asking for her insight as a POC or that she was doing so in a way that made one of the player uncomfortable. We respect this player deeply both as a mun and as a person, and have a great appreciation for their in-depth knowledge of history as a whole, and the rich breadth of resources and fun facts she shared with the group. She often helped us give clarification on things like proper titling and historical accuracy. These are all things she presented to us. However, the remaining admins never reached out to her for specific insight due to her being a POC.

From Admin C in regards to Esmeralda: Initially, the character of Esmeralda was an interpretation of the book/movie/musical character from The Hunchback of Notre Dame as if she had appeared on the television show Once Upon a Time. I have roleplayed Esmeralda for years, and early on in her creation, a friend of mine who is a POC reminded me to research the Romani people before beginning to roleplay her. I did so, and in my research, I found that the g-word was a derogatory term and that Romani people had early origins in India (as listed here on the Wikipedia page sourcing this book and two other sources). Therefore, both actresses I have used for her were Indian actresses (here and here). I also made sure that any judgement that is based on her performing troupe was based solely on them being travelling performers and illusionists instead of their ethnicity. In that one reply I did that was mentioned, I remember when I re-read it before posting, I realized that I had used that word and it needed to be removed. I remember that I thought to myself "why did I write that?", and I took a mental note to take it out before I posted it as I read over the rest of the reply. Until seeing that player’s post about it, I thought I had removed it, and it has now been removed. However, I must have gotten distracted when reading over it and forgot that I didn't take it out when I returned from the distraction to posting it. This is a mistake I have made in the past that has led to posting replies with grammatical or spelling errors, but never something this horrible. That was my mistake and my own fault for not being more diligent for which I take full responsibility and apologize whole-heartedly.

As an admin team, we have tried to read every thread so we knew that we were aware of what was going on as well as consciously look for possible issues. We will admit that while we did catch some issues and addressed them immediately, we did not pay close enough attention and some things were missed.  We did not always read as carefully as we should have. These issues should have been seen and addressed right away. The admin team fully admits to making this mistake as well, and we do apologize for letting such horrible things get missed.

For any other examples of discrimination felt in this group, we deeply apologize for those as well. We also apologize that we did not present ourselves in a manner to make us more approachable when it came to telling us about these mistakes directly when they occurred. We both want to be better community members and allies, and will continue to educate ourselves, learn, and grow to improve in these areas.

In conclusion, we would like to thank you for taking the time to read this fully. War of Nations has been disbanded completely as a group. Our admins offer our apologies to our players, both current and former, the former admins, and all RPC community members who were hurt by the mistakes we’ve made. We have made some terrible mistakes, and we completely apologize for those with every fiber of our beings. We take full responsibility for those mistakes, and by recognizing them, will strive to be better in the future.

With our deepest apologies,

Former Admins C and D

@warofnationsrp​

@warofnationshq​

#apology #rpc #rph #rpt #roleplay