#sad to realize that the common denominator of them all is that they all loved and were loved but neither can be happy

[genericpuff]

Good luck handling Hera and Zeus as characters, as I feel extremely disappointed on how Rachel choice to write them, despite both of them having more interesting plot points than the main couple, their only positive scenes it’s whenever they ship PxH.

Also how Rachel choose to write Hera’s s@x7al trauma was weird…as first she was in love with Hades but Zeus manipulated her to stay with him, but then she slept with Kronos to poison him, however then she was killed and then revived…scarring her for all eternity…then she was again manipulated by Zeus to marry him over Hades, BUT she cheated with Zeus with Hades…then Hera choice to give Zeus ANOTHER chance despite feeling unhappy and frustrated with their marriage to the point of becoming an Alcholic in order to cope…it’s rather sad lifestyle but we never get to explore her properly outside of small parts in the storyline…despite her mistakes mirroring a lot of Persephone’s actions regarding Apollo.

Anyway, your art and writing are great and I hope you have a nice day or night, depending on which time you are reading this.

omg thank you for the luck LOL Honestly, I feel like I'm just gonna handle them how they were practically meant to be handled - neither one of them is going to be 'worse' than the other, Hera will be just as morally questionable in her vengeance against the women that Zeus sleeps with as Zeus is for sleeping with them in the first place (especially when it's other gods from her own court).

IDK, I just think it would be neat to do something with Hera's devotion and ambition as Queen of the Gods and how her own loyalty and devotion as a wife of Zeus leads her to do some really messed up things or "miss the forest for the trees", so to speak. Loyalty can come at a cost, after all, if it's allowed to become corrupt. I'd love to see some kind of scenario where Hera confronts, say, Leto, and pegs her as the source of all her marriage problems, only for her to realize Leto's been just as hurt by Zeus' infidelity as Hera. That it's not the fault of Zeus' victims, that these very same victims should be supporting each other, not tearing each other down.

If I do keep the whole Hades and Hera affair thing, it'll definitely be done with fault pointed at both sides, but especially Hades. It drives me nuts how the comic refuses to cast responsibility onto Hades for all of his bullshit - and how Persephone is painted as the bad guy for being "jealous" when really, Hades' behavior is just one loooooong red flag stretching back millennia that she should be paying more attention to. Just like Hera hyperfocusing on the mistresses rather than Zeus, Persephone is paying too much attention to Hera and Minthe and not enough at the common denominator in both these situations - and that's Hades.

Hera I'm willing to give a little more forgiveness in this scenario because, while she is participating in an affair, she's also in a lot more of a dire situation than Hades, being devoted by marriage to a man that doesn't respect her and likely wouldn't make it easy for her to leave. Hades is single, reigns over his own domain as the only ruler, and is reliant on no one else but himself - he has a lot less to lose than Hera if shit hits the fan and it's frankly disgusting that he doesn't realize that, Hera is yet another one of the women in his life whose life could be ruined by being involved with him, right alongside Persephone and Minthe.

Unfortunately, instead of the story focusing on Hera's trauma from her perspective or her current situation, or even having Hades realize the obvious power dynamic he keeps setting up in his favor, it's often reducing it down to plot progression (like when Hades' trauma dumps her story on her behalf without her knowing all so he can segue into some story about how he became King) and at worst, turning her into some tool for deception with sex at the forefront. It really reduces her down to nothing more than an object to be used by men, even if it's for the 'greater good'.

Honestly, it makes me realize just how more messed up it is when you think about it. Minthe is (was) financially dependent on him and was terrified she'd lose her home and job if they ever broke up. Persephone is now tied to his domain and cut off her relationships with her family/friends/support network to be with him and likely couldn't leave him even if she wanted to. And now Hera, who is married to a man who would likely ruin her life if he found out about the affair FAR worse than he could ruin Hades'.

In all three scenarios, Hades has virtually nothing to lose while the women have everything to lose, but he hooks up with them anyways and makes them dependent on him in one way or another, whether its his money, his power, or his silence.

Anyways, that turned into a tangent, but yeah, I'm excited to try and tackle Hera and Zeus, I think they're the only other couple besides H x P and Eros and Psyche I really wanna focus on in Rekindled (as others I will be focusing on a bit less as I don't feel like they're in any way relevant to the core theming of LO.) All of these couples very much serve as parallels or foils to one another, they're all love stories written with tragedy in mind in some form or another and the cost of what it means to devote yourself to another person. They deserve to be treated with respect and nuance.

Thank you for the kind words, I can't wait to bring y'all more of my rewrites/art <3

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #ask me anything #AMA

[alienaiver]

OMG a blog that does DGM!!! Could I get some random relationship headcanons of lavi please? I miss him🥺

YEYE HELLO!!!!  and god you and me boTH 😭😭 i want him back asap blease<3 (and in one piece THANKS)

i kept these fluff and in a modern!au kind of setting but it’s kinda free (real estate)

wordcount: 554 words warnings: none, cute fluff to ignore canon</3, genderneutral reader!

When Lavi falls in love, he falls hard

The first time he actually realizes he's in love with you is because he gave Bookman a list of symptoms he experienced and asked if there's any rare diseases where these would make sense (he hadn’t made the connection yet that you were the common denominator because sometimes he had the “symptoms” when he was with your entire friend group and not just you.)

Lavi's also a little bit of a coward, romantically - because he's a dork and inexperienced in flirting

So it takes him a while to really start flirting with you, and when he does, it’s chaotic as heck

The first long list of pick-up lines he throws at you are hand-picked from hours of research (most of them fall flat or just straight up confuses you) and he even throws three or four in within the same 30 minutes out of sheer panic that they don’t seem to be working!

He loves playing with hair -  any length!! You’ve fallen asleep on the couch with him and when you wake up, his hand is still massaging your scalp gently. You turn around slightly, expecting to be met with his emarald eye and one of his warm smiles but instead, he’s sleeping peacefully, his hand still running along your scalp gently.

Whenever you have an outing together, Lavi LOVES when you pick his outfit. Not because hes a fashion disaster, he’s got a basic and decent taste (but his color match-ups are sometimes atrocious)

He just feels a sense of pride when he’s walking around town with you in an outfit you picked, that you think suits him (also boosts his ego and makes him feel a little bit handsome<3)

OBVIOUSLY doesn’t mind making them himself if you’re busy or don’t want to, but it’s an act that makes him feel a bit special

Proudly tells everyone you meet that you’re dating. He went with you to a work dinner once and told them that you’re together - they all nodded and one of your co-workers answered with a confused, “we know..?”

Lavi knows every single one of your comfort foods and drinks for every kind of occasion - you’re feeling sad and down? Let him run to the store real quick and he’s back with everything that might cheer you up - including your favorite comfort movie at the ready. You’re pissed off and frustrated about something? He’s already made you that hot beverage you like as he gently massages your shoulders and let’s you get it out of your system!

His favorite past time is reading aloud for you. He’s never really read aloud for anyone like this, so it feels extremely intimate to him and he fought through a blush the entire first time he did it, poor boy was stuttering through the first chapter until he got more comfortable (because you grabbed his free hand and squeezed.)

His favorite animals are foxes, because they’re in his favorite color, so he’s definitely gotten you and him matching fox kigurumis!

Lavi can't sing clean to save his life, but when you're cuddled up close in bed and he gruffly almost whisper-murmurs out lullabies that Allen taught him, it feels like home and you fall asleep with a smile on your face

THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING <3 i hope these are to your liking !! lmk if you'd like more, i love doing anything d gray man 🥹🥹🧡🧡

#dgm x reader #d. gray man x reader #lavi x reader #lavi bookman x reader #nohr.headcanons #nohr.request #nohr.dgm #nohr.writing #FR THO MWUAH MWUAH FOR REQEUSTING THESE!!!! ILYSM and im giving u an endless supply of cookies <333333 #i just. fuck i love dgm i just started re-reading and im on a HIGH #also the fox thing is just a headcanon BUT the color is canon!! no matter HOW SILLY i think it is that his fav color is orange #I DO RESPECT HOSHINO THO

[luvblushed]

I’m an insane Girl Interrupted, Gone Girl, maniac sad girl type when I’m being mistreated… but if someone treats me well I’m the softest, most love-struck, ultra romantic, Disney princess and that’s what most men don’t understand.

The insanity is in there, but you have to do some seriously cruel and thoughtless shit to bring it out.

At my core I just want to be sweet and goofy and have fun with someone who cherishes me and actually pays attention to what I think and say. The next person I date will give me princess treatment at all times because anyone who doesn’t from this point forward is automatically nexted. They’ll probably never believe how dark I can get because they’ll never see it.

I’ll starve that part of me until it shrivels up and dies, somehow, I’ll find a way. I’ll do most of the work. All I need is someone who doesn’t pour fertilizer and water onto that nasty little seed. All I need is someone who helps me plant flowers in the spot where my bitterness once grew.

I was the pure and sweet replacement for my ex’s “crazy ex” in high school. Now his rebound gf will hear stories about how “crazy” I am. What I wish I realized as a teenager is that this would become a pattern for HIM. He’s the common denominator here and he seems to be attracted to women with mental health issues because of their vulnerability, even if subconsciously, because it allows him to play the victim even if he can’t control us in the end.

I hope he enjoys his drugs and porn and bad decisions. I hope he has the life he deserves.

I know that soon I will find my love who will take me shopping and not act like he’s actively dying when I take too long. He’ll be joking around with me like we’re teenagers who just started getting permission to hang out at the mall. We’ll travel together and he’ll make dinner reservations and help me moisturize after a day at the beach and a long shower.

He’ll stick little love notes in my coat pocket and find my response in his shoe. He’ll come home with flowers and keep one in a little vase on his desk so he knows when they’ve wilted and it’s time to get more. He won’t act like I’m the most annoying person to ever live when my autistic habits pop out and I NEED too see every corner of EPCOT before I can relax and have dinner.

He’ll happily try all my new cookie recipes and rave to his friends about how creative and skilled I am. He’ll cook for me regularly, not just on special occasions, but because he wants me to miss his cooking when we’re apart like he misses mine. He won’t yell at my cat. He won’t find my strong sense of Justice obnoxious; he’ll love my passion and be proud to have a compassionate partner. He’ll improve my finances instead of ruining them.

He’ll lovingly tease me when I hyper fixate on a craving but it’s out of the way. We’ll have fun when we do errands together instead of arguing. He won’t try to make me feel stupid because he’s intimidated by my intelligence. We’ll go to farmers markets on the weekends and to the gym and fitness classes on week days. If we take a road trip he’ll find my desire to walk around little towns and go to fruit stands, and antique shops, and tiny little museums, endearing.

He won’t dismiss any piece of media or art that I love just because it’s not his usual preference. He’ll take me to dinner because he wants to spoil me and see me smile, not because he wants other men to think he’s cool. Most importantly he will NEVER choose any vice over me, not porn, not alcohol, not even video games.

#speaking into existence #law of assumption #spoiled girlfriend #lucky girl #narcissist #narcissistic abuse #divine femininity #trophi wife #hypergamy #lover girl

[lahcrairtam]

Entry 75 (6/17/2023)

What if one day the house floods and takes with it our love?

The basement had a bit of a leak. The studio is on hiatus. The project is in limbo at the moment. Tracks 2, 3, 5, 7, 8 and 11 still need much work. 1, 4, 6, 9 are all well on their way. Track 10 is basic and I can knockout whenever. I feel stagnant. Not as stagnant as I have. But stagnant. Professionally, I’m doing quite well. I love my job. That sentence depresses me. How immature. I do feel my work affords me the opportunity to genuinely make a difference in people’s lives. And I’m rather good at my work. So it does feel nice. I know who I am, though. I’m an artist. The project will be finished. For the sake of those that love me and that I have yet to love, I will finish it. It will not be a source of resentment in my life. It will be a pocket of pride and accomplishment. And on to the next project. Forward by way of reflecting backward. I sometimes feel like a serious person that doesn’t ever get taken seriously. Other times I feel like a non-serious person that does get taken seriously. People need to lighten-up. There’s a cringing feeling that is both wholesome and all too sad. The feeling of having missed or purposefully foregone the chance to tell someone how you feel, or merely to just ask them out on a date… and weeks or months or years later you realize by word of mouth or with fresh eyes that you had no shot in hell. The feeling of initial relief that you saved yourself the embarrassment and how could you have been so stupid to have even entertained the thought… then the wholesomeness creeps in when you’re glad there was a time you had so much hope in your eyes, yet not enough to say anything, just enough to think it. Then you apply that to who you’re feeling that way about now and this is when it gets tricky. You don’t want to believe this is just a repeat of last time. That you’d be better off leaving well enough alone. But you really see something in her. But so does everybody else. And so does one man in particular. This is the big repeater. The common denominator. Unavailablity breeds an intimacy. Unavailability can act like a Trojan horse, veiling intentions and masking as a shield from attachments, meanwhile it fosters these connections. Oh well. If there’s one thing I’m terrific at, it’s waiting. Playing the long game. And getting precious little out of it by the end. But that’s the thing. The long game can be as long as you want it to be. Could be your whole life. Waiting. They say kids who value delayed gratification over instant tend to grow up to be smarter people. I think there’s a limit where you delay gratification so far that for before you get any. That’s a mental illness. A paradox of intelligence. Isn’t wise to live in the present moment. Where is the balance? I’m rambling.

[taptep]

Finding Irene

52 years. That's how long it has taken me to get to this moment, where I realized how badly I need to rescue Irene. Something has been unraveling over the years, and I am convinced that this is where it was leading me to. I went from being this constantly angry or sad person, to one who started meditating and slowly learning to shut out the noise to find the answers. The more I started to look at what my participation has been in my often self-made problems, the more the answers have been slowly coming to me.

I have been dating this wonderful man for the past 2 years. I don't see him often due to his busy schedule, but when I do, I am at my absolute happiest. When I come back to my messy house, it never matters how high the mountain of dishes is in the sink, or that the kids' shoes are strewn all over the place, I am just plain and simple happy and grateful that I have him. My batteries are re-charged, and I am ready to get back into the grind. Lately, I am noticing the one-sidedness of things. Probably due to the fact, that I had been having a bad week. I have been having difficulty concentrating at work, and my productivity has been low. Just like anybody else who is feeling down, a shoulder to cry on, a hug, from someone who cares about you is badly needed. You know how they say, when you need love, you need to give it away so that it comes back to you. So I gave some love away by touching base and sending a message out: "How are you babe? Everything ok?" His reply: "Yup, team building season is here. April and May are going to be busy. Thank you for checking on me." Now, in all the times I have asked his question, never did he ask me: "And how are you?" Somehow, this just getting to me, so I asked him: "Do I sound like I am always happy?" His reply: "Well, I make you happy, so I would assume yes." End of story. Now, if someone asked me if they always "sound" happy, that would be reason for me to jump on that bandwagon and follow up with: "Is something wrong?" But all I hear is the sound of crickets. This has forced me to really take a long hard look at how my recent relationships (if not all of them), have been. And the common denominator in all of them, was the emotional unavailability of each man.

So the question I now ask is: when did I learn, that it is ok for me to be short-changed? When was it ok to skip over my needs so that I would fit into their world, and they would be comfortable? When I look back, I remember the exhilaration that a new relationship would always offer, and because of this, I would ignore anything that would chip away at the excitement. But when we don't deal with issues that are present, they eventually deal with us. And here I am again in this mess. But the difference this time, is that I see it with more clarity. I want to have alignment on the outside and on the inside. People at work look at me and think that I am good at the things I am doing, that I am a great communicator and more often than not, they want me to lead things. The reality, though, is that things look good on the outside, but I am a total mess on the inside. And this is exactly what I want to change. I want alignment. The image that people see of me "altogether", when in actual fact, I can't even get my ducks in one row, is changing. I hold myself accountable for the work I do on myself. I will no longer be swept away in the excitement and exhilaration of a new relationship. Instead, I will slow down, check in with myself and ask: does this align with my values? How does this make me feel? Am I short-changing myself? Is this sustainable for me? Is this in alignment with self-love? What is essential for this moment?

So, it's going to be quite the journey. I end this entry today with one of my favorite quotes from Marianne Wiliamson. Years ago, I copied this on a piece of paper and stuck it to my bathroom mirror, to inspire me because I was really going through one of the toughest journeys in my life. “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

#self discovery #self love #healing journey

[saltyroxs]

Sands of Time in Music

The musical theme I picked in this assignment is related to the subject matter time. They range from classical music, rock music, jazz, and country music. The songs range in different emotions related to the subjects pertaining to time and how the singer relates it to their emotions and relationships.

The first genre is rock music and are songs are This Time from INXS and Time from Pink Floyd. Michael Hutchence from INXS in This Time sings about a couple fighting and their relationship possibly falling apart. It is referenced in the following verses, "Will be the last time they will fight like this." The song was from their fifth album "Listen Like Thieves from 1985 and he sings that is only a game and that "we are hoping, yes, and we are praying, that this will be the last time". It has the typical 1980's rock music with drums and guitars background and vocals with Michael crooning forlornly. But it has an upbeat feel to it that they will be together and won't fight like they have in the past. The second song is Pink Floyd and called Time that starts with a melody of grandfather clocks, watches, and clocks dinging in the beginning of the song with ticking sounds that coincide with a sound of beating of the human heart. The song refers to that you waste time and don't realize that it has been wasted it until you realize you are closer to death. The following verses symbolize it, "You are young, and life is long, and there is time to kill today. And then one day you find ten years have got behind you, No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun."

My two classical songs are Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce that references that if you could save time in a bottle that he would make them last forever to be with the one he loves. The melody is low but constant, occasionally going up in octave before the song moves into the next verse. The second song is Time from The Alan Parsons Project is a haunting song of someone saying goodbye to someone who has passed away. The pitch of the song is slow and almost monotone with occasional crescendos in his voice. He refers to the sea being gone forever. It evokes feelings of sadness and despair of a mourning person saying goodbye to someone and never seeing them again with pain that is never ending like water flowing from a river into the sea.

The next genre is jazz from Nat King Cole and his song Time and the River and it portrays a portrait of a man mourning the loss of his loved one. In the following verse, it references to his love for her and having her taken away from him. "Here by the river. We loved, we laughed, we cried. But with time, my love, my darling left my arms and was gone with the tide." I feel he is mourning her to death and losing her in the relationship to unknown circumstances. But he uses many metaphors referencing to their love to the river and the time standing still since she was taken from him.

The last genre song is country music from Willie Nelson and is called Funny How Time Slips Away. He is singing about how his love said she would love him to the end of time, but she is in someone else's arms. I thought it was ironic that majority of these songs were referencing to the loss of a loved one and he is almost mocking and angry inferring that she was a liar and untrue in the song. I felt it added a different nuance to the songs I picked. It makes you realize some people may not see the loss of the loved one in the same way and he feels he may have wasted his time in the relationship.

I feel all of these songs are beautiful in their own way in conveying their own feelings and emotions of lost love and feeling time slipping away from them. These songs have different tempos and have different ranges in music but share one common denominator that time is fleeting, and you should treasure the time you have with your loved ones. They make you feel nostalgic of lost relationships in the past with the underlined pain you feel from the songs.

[itsallaboutemotions]

Last night, I got to meet someone again after 4 years. I still can remember how he answered all the questions running in my mind when I so down, how awful the experience was of knowing the truth. Hindi ko alam kung hiyang hiya siya when I told him the whole story, but I think all things that happened were beneficial to what we are now. I managed to thank him for telling me what he needed to tell me at that time unknowingly. Kung hindi dahil sa kanya, hindi ko mare-realize na may something wrong na nga talaga, and I really have to let go of that obsession I have of a person I was so in love with. Or in the concept of this kind of relationship, maybe it was an eye-opener na ang mga relasyon hindi talaga yung mga pinapanood nating mga fantasy na may happy ending living happily ever after, especially sa gay relationships. Actually, hirap lang siguro tanggapin pero hindi ko kasi na-take yung concept ng ganon. I have been meeting quite a lot of gay couples lasting for longer years, and the common denominator nga talaga like what my friend told me last time na they were "___ years nang naglolokohan". According to some of them, the secret to a lasting relationship was accepting the fact that they can't be totally loyal. Pero siguro, it's a matter of choice din naman, and some of single people like me choose to be legal with being malandi. At least, when we are single, we never have to worry about having irresistible attractions with other people. Or siguro nga, baka wala naman din kasing something strong and binding for gay relationships, unlike straight couples who can copulate and bear children that can symbolize their ultimate unity and rightful passage of genes, traits and what not. And after all the SOGIE seminars I attended, the researches I did, the ordinance we passed, I still have been questioning myself, "Am I abnormal?". It feels sad to analyze what my life has been for the past 31 years as gay. I started to write a book about this kind of life, but I guess I'm left with writing more rants and thoughts here in my blog more that I have time writing about that topic. Maybe again, I'm too hard on myself. I forgot to appreciate all the wonderful things I experienced with this personality, the people I meet and socialize with, the privileges I had and the memories I share with my family and friends. It can be depressing to be gay you know, but I think I can bare the pain and feel less of it when I start to remember gratefulness and acceptance of the things I can't control.

[fast-food-fish]

pierced through the heart but never killed: being the weird girl

spent christmas alone this year (and subsequently became disillusioned with life) now i’m writing this. tw for depression, loneliness, childhood trauma, bullying kind of.

so it seems midnight’s have become my afternoons. maybe i should actually do something with my time. i could finally start that book i’ve been meaning to write, or work on my screenplay (believe me i know how that sounds). maybe i could watch a show that isn’t sailor moon. or maybe i could just get out of my head long enough to stop thinking everything to death and start doing something about it.

i have these issues, you see. i mean, doesn’t everyone? but when i talk about it with my partner that’s how i describe them, issues, as if calling them that makes them any more manageable. where did all of these ideas come from? is what i’d actually like to know. what affect did it have on me being the weird kid in elementary school? having 2, maybe 3 friends in middle school? having people, friends, hang out at the park literally a block away from your house, without you? when you were supposed to be walking to school with your friends, but they walked ahead of you and then wondered why you were upset. when you’re only in a group for a project because “the teacher said we couldn’t say no.” you get picked last for team sports (last after the kid that everyone hates and the girl who thinks she’s a cat and meows), because you suck, and you’ll always suck at everything. to them you will, and i’m sorry to tell you kid, but you’ll carry those things with you for the rest of your life.

but honestly, why should i expect more? i grew up in an environment where i was essentially made to give all of myself to everyone around me, and expect nothing in return. so why should i expect anything less than nothing when i need it? why is it your fault that i can’t manage my expectations? that after all this time i still expect, actually maybe that’s the wrong word, i still ache and yearn and rip myself open for the chance that someone will do something. someone will make me feel like i’ve come in first place for once in my life. someone will see me, and choose me, and love me, despite everything. and this really isn’t fair, because someone has. my partner chooses me, and loves me and sees me, and it’s my fault that i can’t accept it, or i want more, or i can’t even comprehend what they’re saying to me. because for some reason words aren’t enough, and actions aren’t enough and nothing is enough.

like taylor swift says in the verse i’ve directly referenced in the title of this piece, “sometimes i feel like everybody is a sexy baby, and i’m the monster on the hill, too big to hang out, slowly lurching towards you’re favourite city, pierced through the heart but never killed.” i am the monster on the hill, and i have been for a long, long time. too big to hang out? how about too weird? too desperate? emotional? i want too much attention? i just want your attention. i got broken up with when i was in high school and i ate lunch in my car for 2 months because my “friends” made me feel as though i couldn’t hang out with them anymore. an arrow in the heart. i’ve been ghosted 7 times (some my fault some not), 7 arrows to the heart. i cried once a year in public for every year i was in elementary school. right through the heart. how many more arrows can i take? why won’t any of them kill me?

there is no beauty in this feeling. this bubbling jealousy, catastrophic rage, harrowing all consuming sadness. believe me, i’ve tried to turn into something beautiful, to make it have any meaning in my life, it doesn’t. i’m a tragic character in my own life, forced to relive these memories over and over every time i feel like i’m last place. when you ask me where i am, it’s here. when you ask me why i don’t think i’m enough, it’s because of this. there’s only so long you can be naive before you realize that you’re the common denominator. before you realize that it was too exhausting for everyone else to root for the anti-hero, hell, i’m exhausted.

and i want this to have a happy ending, i want all of the choices to be easy and have no consequences. i want to understand how loved i am by the people who don’t see me as a deranged mess of all my worst moments. i want to say the things without saying them. choose me, it’s easy, it is. but it isn’t, and that’s not even the choice. not every thing that someone does that isn’t spending time with me is a choice not to spend time with me. and just because i have an issue with putting up boundaries, doesn’t mean that you should. instead of saying to myself, well i would do anything for them, why won’t they do the same for me? maybe i should ask myself why it is that i would do anything? why, in this scenario, am i expendable?

and the answer is really quite simple, if i’m expendable i won’t be alone, and if i’m not alone i won’t run out of things to do to keep me from really thinking about these issues, my issues. there’s only so long i can keep procrastinating these thoughts, but if you’re here i don’t have to worry about procrastinating, i just have to think about what will make you happy. because if you’re happy you won’t leave, and if you won’t leave i won’t be alone. if we stay right here and we don’t move, nothing bad will happen, you won’t see all of this, and leave. if we stay here there’s no more arrows in the heart, if we stay here i won’t have to pull them out and heal the wound. but if we stay here i’ll never get better, and this will never be fair, and i will do this again and again and again, and you will feel bad, and i will feel bad for making you feel bad, and it will never end.

maybe it’s time to burn down the schools, metaphorically, maybe it’s time to take a breath in, and a breath out, and realize that nothing can be done about the past anymore. that i bought something a long long time ago, and it’s time to return it.

#tw depression #tw depressing stuff #tw depressing thoughts #tw loneliness #tw bullying #tw childhood trauma #tw long post #tw long text #long post #goddddddd i really need to talk to my therapist #but if you read this thanks #it means a lot #this is something i should've written a long time ago #but here it is now #here's to healing #and making the friendship bracelets #and taking the moment and tasting it #i love taylor if you couldn't tell #<333333 #anti hero #taylor swift #midnights

[marylandlifecoaching]

New Vibe New Tribe

Why are you still friends? No, seriously? You hold onto people for life, and then wonder why for the life of you, that you can't hold on. You want a new vibe, yet you're holding onto an old tribe. I'm not saying that we cannot have lifelong friends. What I am saying is expand or shrink your circle accordingly.  

It's sad to see people hold onto someone, just because they once served a purpose. You know that one friend that you went to school with, but has spent the last 8 years doing nothing but brining you down? Cut the cord. We're allowed to outgrow people. We don't even need to offer up an explanation. You can love someone, and cherish the memories and still move on. It does not make you a bad person. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It's is healthy to want more for yourself.

There are people I know from my childhood, but I would not call them friends. Yes, we did time together. Yes, that time was also very enjoyable. But I am not a child anymore. I will be courteous to you. But no, if your vibe doesn't speak of positivity, then we won't be hanging out. It's not about judgement. It's about placement. And I will always place myself in a tribe that is inspiring, serving and seeking self improvement. If that makes me an asshole, then I'm an asshole. It's like staying in a marriage that does not breed happiness, just because it once did long ago. Why? Free yourself and you both can seek happiness on your own, or with another. It is okay to be selfish. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

I know lots of people who have trauma bonded. But just because you have one thing in common, doesn't mean you're supposed to be connected for the rest of your life. What happens if or when you've healed that trauma? That common denominator is gone. Now all that is left, is two individuals who realized that they have nothing else in common. It's okay to share time with someone. But that doesn't mean you have to share eternity.

Not everyone who enters your life is supposed to stay. Pull up the anchor and move on. Don't be mean. But unproductive relationships, lead into unproductive lives. And if that sits well with you, mission accomplished. But if you desire and demand more from life, you will need a tribe that can elevate your vibe. And we cannot invest in our future, if our past is not making any deposits. Family included. I love the saying, "You want to know what you future looks like? Look at the 5 people you spend the most time with." It's all about the tribe, baby. When people ask how I am so laid back? I point them in the direction of my tribe.

There is nothing wrong with leveling out. I just prefer to level up. And if you crave that new vibe, you're going to have to seek a new tribe.

[abyss-sss]

'𝘉𝘢𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘬'

Summary: Levi believes he’s bad luck, and then he finds you...

Word Count: 1k

Genre: angst with a lil fluff, mentions of injury

A/n: sorry, had to get this thought out of my head.

Levi really truly believed he was a bad luck charm. Everything in his life had collapsed around him, miraculously leaving him alive or unscathed amidst his dead comrades. Everyone he’d ever trusted dropped dead like flies and no matter how much he wished to trade places with them, he knew he never could.

 It was common for soldiers to blame something for the frequent disasters. It’s easier to turn all the wallowing and the anger at one single thing whether responsible or not. So it was logical for Levi to choose himself as his bad omen. After all, he was the common denominator in his life's tragedies. It was convenient to loathe his reflection in the mirrors and to see his sadness as a just and deserved punishment. 

When you come into his life he decides to ignore you. He’ll only cause you trouble and heartache. Besides, even if he let himself have this one thing he felt deep down that he’d never truly deserve it the way you deserve the world. So even though he wants to litter kisses all over your face and wrap himself in your comfort he pauses and puts up the same façade that has haunted him his entire life. 

When you constantly push against him he’s firstly astounded, secondly scared. He thinks that you might be delusional for running after him. Maybe when you see him for what he actually is, you’ll realize it was a mistake and leave him. He thinks that you leaving now would be a blessing because you staying is somehow scarier, no matter how much he wants you to.

Your insistence continues despite his worries and he begins to see you as a permanent fixture in his life. He thinks of you often but a nagging thought that he’ll bring his infamous bad luck upon you weighs on him heavily. He always tries to go back to how it was-shutting you out, keeping you safe- then you shove your way back into his heart and his resolve wanes.

You slowly become his good luck charm. You are his exact opposite and he finds comfort in the way you foil him. If he has always had bad luck then you're the best damn bad luck he’s ever had. In a sense- even though you are good, the way you make him fall for you makes him feel like you’ll inevitably ruin him in a way that no-one has. For once he thinks he’s met his match. You will cancel out anything that he causes to go wrong and he’ll be yours.

That’s why when he sees you lying bloodied on the battlefield his blood runs cold. Finally, he thinks, his bad luck overpowered everything perfect about you and he’s bled you dry of luck. When he checks for your pulse he feels as if he's burning your skin despite his gentle, air-like touch. Once again, he's bad luck and it seems as if he'll never stop hurting the ones he loves.

It takes two weeks for him to visit you in the infirmary. In those weeks he spent his time pacing past your door and finding excuses to not see you because he was 'busy.' 

He spends hours trying to convince himself to let you go so that he can 'protect' you from all the calamities that seem to follow him. He tries to run over the break up he's planning in his head but the thought of you always ruins it. It makes him want to give up and just hold you, even if you have to deal with his shitty luck for the rest of your shitty lives together.

When he finally visits you you're incredibly happy. It had been a worrying few weeks without Levi by your side. Hange had shaken their head when you asked why he didn't come by and sighed a simple, "he's an idiot, y/n. He'll come around." Sure enough he did come, even if only to ease the constant dialogue in his head. He wanted to see you to clear his mind in the miraculous way you always do.

He sends you a small, nervous smile and you think that you've never seen a man look more regretful in your entire life. The sadness in his eyes was immeasurable and you feel your heart begin to drop. 

"Hey." You say. You return a sad smile, waiting for him to explain, for him to talk to you, for him to say that he'll stay with you forever. At least, that's what you hope he'll do.

"Hey," he replies. He gulps. You're still bandaged over your many wounds and your arm is wrapped in a cast. He looks as it and all he see is that it's his fault. It cements how much he wants to leave you, not because he doesn't love you, but because he loves you so much that this hurts in a way he hasn't felt since Isabel and Furlan died. It's a strange experience to love so much that you only remember the way the love ends.

In the same minute he tries to steady his nerves to leave you he admires your beauty and it halts everything inside of him. 

"I..."

In one breath his tongue twists and turns, trying to decide between  "I'm breaking up with you," and, "I love you."

Instead he says, "I'm sorry."

You release a breath and open your arms to him, accepting and warm. 

"It's okay Levi, we can talk about it later." 

You think he's saying sorry for not visiting but really, he's saying sorry for existing, for letting you down, for not being enough, for being bad luck. And even though he believes all of those things about himself he sits in the chair next to your bed and lets you embrace him in a way that makes him feel weightless.

By the time he falls asleep next to you after talking through the evening he is certain he is utterly in love. Even if he's bad luck he knows you'll be there to accept all of him.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackermann x reader #captain levi #levi attack on titan #thinking about levi #levi aot #levi headcanons #aot x reader #aot drabble #aot fluff #levi ackerman #levi fluff #abyss posts

[kendrixtermina]

The Types as Musicians

i was initially doing research to make “unstereotypic own words playlists” for the other 8 types after i made the 5 one, but i soon realized that i wouldnt have enough material for many of them. 

Personality Database proved utterly useless in this endeavor because they type everyone & their dog as infj 4. 

It’s like they’re too preoccupied with empty praise to really try to understand what makes their favs the way they are. 

Still, this is what i noticed trying to look up musicians of different types. 

1:

drawing a blank, maybe they’re all in classical or some other genre I don’t listen to. 

2:

I can only think of Dolly Parton

3: 

Their songs come in roughly two genres: “self-referential badassitude hymn” and “unironic passionate lovesong” ( can also be directed at friends or Family). The latter are the really good ones IMHO. 

Examples:

Britney Spears

Taylor Swift

christina aquilera 

madonna

bebe rexha

4:

I think most of you can picture this one. theyre very concentrated in the arts.  Back in my day it was rockbands, nowadays a lot of them are in indie. 

Of course saying this is tantamout to summoning att the ones from the woodworks who like some completely different genres and do not want to be associated with the above

[ducks]

Examples: 

 Amy Lee of Evanescence

Emilie Autumn

Taylor Momsen of The Pretty Reckless

Toopoor

marylin manson

the frontman from mindless self indulgence. 

the mcr frontman

lana del rey

Jonathan Davis from Korn

5:

Avantgardistic and high-concept stuff. Grunge, Metal, and a sizeable fraction of  european bands that dont sing in English

Also, nearly all those “one guy and his laptop” acts 

Examples:

Kurt Cobain of Nirvana

Trenz Reznor of NiN

Honey Malecki of Welle Erdball

Matt Bellamy of Muse

Thom Yorke

Whoever was in charge of lyrics for the earlier albums of In Flames. i bet you my glasses. 

Blixa Bargeld of Einstürzende Neubauten

Sophie Xeon 

6:

supposedly theres quite a lot of them in hiphop/rap as well but im not an expert in that. probably punk & alt rock, too. You’ll recognize that those two genres often have alot of quick rapid fire lyrics.

The ones I was personally familiar with were mostly singer-songwriter types

Examples: 

Mitski

Meg Myers

La Roux

if you asked me to find the common denominator of these, i would say “a lot of feelings”. 

7:

Also come in two grenres: “Terribly Sad Wailing Breakup Song” and “associative Thinking galore creativity explosion”, surprising propensity of ‘layered’ writing where a song will sometimes be about several things at once

Sometimes the same artist will go back and forth between Wailing Breakup and Creativity Explosion, or even pull off both at once. 

Lady Gaga

Tori Amos 

Lindsay Stirling (the violinist)

amy winehouse

rihanna

Fiona Apple

Cardi B

8: 

There were not many examples but i did find a few:

Garbage’s Shirley Manson

P!nk

Peaches

What would I say the common denominator is? It’s dangerous to extrapolate from so few data points, but I’d say a love of scandalous costumes, and the more emotional songs having an undercurrent of tiredness.

9: 

Many widely beloved, ‘iconic’ artists with devoted worshippers. A lot of colorful dreamy/whimsical clothes & aesthetic. 

Otherwise run a pretty wide gamut.  I see a lot more common through-lines with 9 writers. (though many of them are also super beloved household names)

Examples: 

Shakira

Hayley kiyoko

Lil nas x

Beyonce

Ashnikko

Björk

Enya

Note that contrary to popular belief not all of these even have a vibe that could be described as particularly chill. if anything the through line seems to be flexibility & quirkyness. 

its striking that i was familiar with so many of their names & the few most famous songs though im not a big fan of any of these nor intently following popculture. theyre just very popular & ppl frequently gush about them. 

Seems like type 9 has the optimum balance of unique creativity and broad relatable appeal. Plus, you can talk in normal-sized sentences unlike us head types

#enneagram

[symptoms-syndrome]

More roommate musings, incl me being something of a self-righteous dick

At the risk of sounding like a "better than you" kinda person, I like. Don't understand how people can stay fucked up the way my roommate is for that long. I want to shake him by the shoulders and yell "you're not the person you think you are!"

He thinks he's sooo responsible and adult and everything and he's not! And I don't know how he hasn't realized this.

It just feels like I've grown so much since I first met him, and he's stayed stagnant. When I met him I had a lot of the same like, problems I guess. I was a young person fresh out of an incredibly traumatizing environment with not a lot of great interpersonal skills. My emotions got out of my control and I would manipulate people out of fear they would leave if I didn't.

And at some point, I realized that the way I was acting was ruining my relationships with people, that people left anyway and that I was, for lack of a better word, an unlikable asshole. And at some point I decided that's not how I wanna live. I wanted to learn how to genuinely connect with people and resolve conflict without it blowing up in my face every damn time. I needed to learn to see people as complex and relationships as complex and learn to disagree and have conflict in a healthy way. I'm not perfect, I won't say I've fully recovered and am a lovely wonderful person to be around all the time who's great at being the bestest friend but I've done a damn lot of work to at least get out of the "unlikable asshole" pit. I've maintained friendships and apologized and mostly been forgiven (through hard work and changed behavior) for past transgressions against people who knew me when I was a dick.

And I've seen W go through friend after friend, acting like besties when they're there and shit talking them behind their back, having huge blowups before/after they or the friend decide to never talk again or whatever. The first time I was like ok, things happen. The third time? It's a pattern. And now I'm the next one in the long line of friends -> messy ex friends. I'm seeing in real time him make and break friendships in exactly the same way he did when I first met him 5 years ago, and the way I did 5 years ago. And he's four years older than me. He's been doing this longer than I've been an adult. Longer than I did before I realized that that's not a fulfilling way to live. I don't mean to be "bootstrappy," but at what point does one need to just get their shit together? At what point, if ever, will he realize he's the common denominator? Every time he complains about how he's being treated unfairly by friend after friend. Every time, it's never his fault.

I mean, I feel like it didn't take long for me to feel like that's an incredibly lonely and sad way for me to live. So unbearably lonely I just had to do something about it, even if for a while I just floundered trying to claw my way out of the "asshole" pit. But it's like he doesn't even realize he's in the pit. He's made a home there and he has no intention to leave. Something like Plato's allegory of the cave, but with relationships.

It's as sad as it is frustrating. I feel sorry for him but I don't. It's like seeing a rat taking a peaceful nap in a rat trap. Do you not realize where you are? Who you are?

[theyearsiturnedintoaghost]

“But I Wanna Know One Thing When Did I Become a Ghost?”

Sometimes I try to pinpoint the exact day I became a ghost. I go over days and nights and try to decipher if it happened pre or post certain parts of my life. Was it before I finished college? Maybe earlier, maybe the day my parents finally split? Maybe it was the day I realized a boy I loved in my twenties was never going to love me back, and I just needed to focus on myself while life kept unfolding? Was it somewhere in the move across the country to finish college, and try to do something for myself that might better me, that my actual self flew out the window somewhere in Texas, or some other dusty road, and the entire years following were just my ghost years? Or maybe it wasn’t until after I let myself fall so far away from what I remembered myself to be, or what I stood for, or dreams I had, that I shrunk into myself so small and became a walking shell of who I used to be. Maybe it was the day I stood next to someone else at a bar, a different one than the bar I’d left that earlier unrequited love behind at, and thought for the first time in so long ‘is this person perfect?’ while I was introduced to him, and instead of being cool or sweet, or like someone a person would want to talk to - I blabbered on about some snowboarders who had a TV show that this person had never heard of, and I realized in the walking away from that person as a blush rose to my cheeks and my hands shook just enough to let me know that deep down I wanted to cry from my anxiety, that I was just too fucking weird for people, and not just that person, but maybe all people. These same type of ‘outer body’ or anxiety induced conversations and moments just kept happening over and over so I started focus in and realize I was the common denominator and that I must be the cause to my inability to relate to people or not be so fucking weird that I could practically feel their eyes rolling at me while I spoke to them. Clearly, I didn’t become a ghost because of any of these specific moments, but probably due to all of these moments all swirled together with so many others, and also due to my brain makeup and what I imagine is some missed diagnosis from childhood that today would for sure have me on the spectrum. Which, for the record, I’m completely okay with being on. Actually sometimes I think it would give me some kind of ease that maybe I’m not as ‘crazy’ or ‘out there’ as I’ve compared myself to be when I look at other peoples lives of my age. There’s no shame in thinking differently and having to work out how you do think so other people who don’t think the same can sort of understand. So please don’t take that as a cruel joke, or something to be angry at. It’s just me recognizing that people can be different, and sometimes they don’t know the reason for it because they were never seen properly. 

So, I’m not exactly sure of the day I became a ghost - fuck, maybe it wasn’t one of those moments or days specifically, but a lot of days, weeks, or months; full of falling further from who I’d been at seventeen, even twenty-one, or twenty-three, or who I even thought I would be by thirty, that made me disappear from myself one day and just become this person who just existed in the world day to day, but wasn’t actually living. I ate sometimes when I wasn’t trying to disappear fully so clothes would fit me better or boys might think I was beautiful, I laughed when I was supposed to, went on dates like I was trying, got up and went to work like I was supposed to, read a book here and there, binged watched TV shows to have conversations and social interactions with people like normal people do, and tried to convince myself that this was what living was, I guess. Between all of these day to day things and smoking myself to sleep, crushing up pills in private places and snorting them through straws, or dabbling - to put it lightly and politically correct - into cocaine, just to pass the time and make myself feel anything most of the time, I guess vanishing became easy.

Becoming a ghost was easier.

It’s just not exactly clear to me to be able to figure out the exact date and time I fully realized I’d become a ghost. It’s not as easy as like providing an alibi for myself for one specific night, and not because my brain was so hazy and filled with anger, sadness, and drug fueled smoke and pills for most, but not all - and not all at the same time - of the years between twenty to nearly thirty, that I cannot fully recall the moment I fully realized I wasn’t who I remembered myself wanting to be, but really because I think it happened slowly at first, somewhere in between being lonely, living in a place that I kind of had a hard time fitting into, not in terms of the weather or nature, but in making a friend or two or feeling like I wasn’t so... annoying-to-people-based-on-reality-shows New Jersey in a non-New Jersey place, and even if maybe it didn’t fully seem that way to other people, trying to finish school and not feel so old being basically a junior at like twenty-three when every other person I knew had already graduated and was moving to the next levels of their lives - whatever those were - while I was working as many hours as I could to just pay the rent, trying to make a friend in any place - which is really hard for me if I’m being honest. To cut it down to brass tax, I think I’m socially awkward and full of so much anxiety that I either shy away and appear unapproachable, or I let people in too quickly and my heart gets broken by them when I realize I probably care too much for them than they do for me. 

I think I’m just afraid of disappointing people.  So instead I just disappoint myself. 

I let people leave me because it’s easier. Why make them stay when they don’t want to? Why hope they’ll call first when they won’t? Why hope they’ll love me back the way I would have loved them?

It’s easier to let them go on and be happy and just... disappear. 

It’s why I think I let myself slowly start to slip away from who I had been my whole life. Some girl who was hoping for the ‘happy ending’ the ‘good things to come,’ as embarrassing as those things can sound for a person to imagine, the successful life that I sadly felt I would achieve with the promises of getting an education and working hard, but instead was just always left outside of the winners circle.  Not that anyone wins in any of this, but you know what I mean. The truth is, in life - from what I’ve come to understand - there are just people who lose less often than other people. I just got tired of losing, and feeling like I was losing all the time.  I got tired of making it to my twenties and feeling like I was never going to be the girl who would ever become anything or the one that anyone ever actually wanted back.  Sure, I had ‘romantic entanglements,’ if you could call them that, crushes, and drunken kisses, but nothing that it felt like everyone else was so easily able to get.  Boyfriends, flowers on a date night, fucking date nights in general, a birthday party thrown for them; not one they had to put together themselves and hope at least five people would come. The things one may think matters, but don’t - not in the grand scheme of anything that actually does really matter to the world - but these things still add up as years go by, and as I kept getting older and older and it felt like everyone I knew had this laundry list of relationships and ex’s and I was just kind of aware of how... no one has ever asked me out properly on a date or reached over to hold my hand in a crowded room. Or knew the thing I wanted to laugh about in public without me even have to say it.  Those stupid wishful, movie, dream life, fantasy land bullshit things that everyone tells you aren’t real outside of movies, but I just didn’t fully believe because I’d seen my own friends make eye contact with someone they loved across a room and I’d seen that feeling occur in real time. Maybe it wasn’t in a movie script ending kind of way, but it still happened. Small and simple, but it still did happen, and it was probably more beautiful than Hollywood could even fathom or conjure up.

And once I started to kind of realize that this kept occurring to people around me all of the time I just started to think that I was invisible. And soon after I came to realize I was. 

And it isn’t just the relationships that make you feel invisible, it’s the other things everyone around me seemed to be doing or achieving that makes me feel sort of ‘less than.’ People getting - what seems like to a twenty-something - a big fancy office job out of college, or buying a house, travelling with a group of friends multiple times a year.  Fuck, even just having a group of friends, that was actually amazing to me after like twenty-one. I could honestly walk through a store, or down a street and I’m not sure one person may have even noticed if I was there - or if I wasn’t. Even if I did daily routine items like where I bought my coffee or the days I shopped at a grocery store, or when I went for walks or not, I’m not sure if people would notice when I didn’t, or if I ever even did. Even when I was working in the office I got fired from, and commuting day to day, I’m not sure any one on that bus would be able to pick me out a line up even if I took the same 6:50 everyday.  Hell, I’m not sure people who I worked with and spoke to would even notice if I wasn’t there. And when I would wash my hands in the bathroom and the automated sensor wouldn’t even recognize me, I really started to wonder if I wasn’t actually a ghost after all. 

And day in and day out, month in and month out, year in and year out, all of it just started to add up. All the good things that were happening for everyone else - which was something I truly was happy for, despite how fake that sounds typing, like I’m trying to make myself sound like a decent human in hopes someone won’t just think I’m being whiny or jealous, I really was happy for them because I think a person - even some of the worst ones - does really want the people they know and care about to be happy; even if that happiness is seemingly impossible to hold for themselves. Regardless, deep in my heart I know that I was happy for them getting all of their desires, I was just sad I wasn’t getting my own ‘good things,’ or desires. And I felt like I had nothing to talk with people about. Like when I came to their table I was just... the person they knew who wasn’t progressing on any kind of timeline; even my own.

I started to feel ashamed about it. Embarrassed and stuttery about any kind of topic any one might speak to me about. So I sort of just stopped going to people’s tables. I didn’t want to see them look at me out of the corner of their eyes with pity as the thirty-something year old who had no direction, no love life, no career type job, and had not created or accomplished anything; at all.

And in the meantime, in trying not to fail, or having something to speak about that I felt I’d done a good job on or created, It felt like any kind of outlet that I tried to create to promote my own dreams or wishes just kept never hitting the mark. Trying to make a clothing line? Fail. Like even having one of these Tumblr’s years ago for my writing, anything I actually did write was pointless; or at least felt that way. Any story I’d completed, I wished were different or more original. I just kept feeling like other people had done the ‘path’ correct and they were all getting their foot in the door at the right times, and I was just... behind. My lack of being able to commit to a major at school, or even get an office job or internship doing something basic and day to day just didn’t appeal to me.  Not in a way that made me excited for the next thirty years of my life, especially because that’s what I always thought being an adult was. Finding a place to work that allowed you to build a career, and just getting through that until you were able to retire.

I guess I didn’t really think much about the joy in any of it, or what adulthood really held for me that didn’t seem so mundane and boring. Like just something you had to do and there was nothing super exciting about it. By the time I made it to like twenty I kind of realized dreams I’d had since I was younger were already out of question.  I was clearly never going to be that Olympic Gymnastic’s Champion I thought I would at eight - which even as I type this I want to laugh at how farfetched that dream even feels to remember - and the odds of me becoming Georgia O’Keefe, who I dressed up as for a 4th grade biography day - felt impossible, especially since my desire to possibly go to art school after college were kind of laughed off by my family because what are the odds people make any money out of art school? Plus, she mastered flowers, it’s hard to compete with the beauty of that.  And I was clearly never going to be some teen idol movie star or popstar princess. Which was also very far off dreams that I guess I recall having around 14. But I was like twenty-something now, and I’d heard myself sing, it is not good, even just speaking I have a voice most people wish they could unhear, and the most acting I’ve ever done is pretending I was just fine for most of my entire life. Even though I could feel the sadness deep in my chest and gut that felt so heavy and dark I was afraid of even admitting it was there in fear of what other people might think about me, hell, what I might think of myself.  

That’s the thing I’ve learned the most about trying to pinpoint when I became a ghost, I think I always was in some way, I was just never honest with myself about feeling that way. Not until I got much older and everything got out of control, that is.  It’s why I’ve always felt more comfortable in my own space and house. Where I have confidence in myself and my own little secret hiding spots for where I keep the sadness or fears of inadequacy. It’s easier to be me behind closed doors and in the stillness of my bedroom or solitude of my basement. I can be me in places where everyone isn’t watching, or it doesn’t feel like they are. Where I can’t hear them laugh about me as they pass around a group chat or some other joke I’m not privy to. Where they aren’t looking at my messy bun and unfashionable clothing and the smattering of pimples on my chin, or sad eyes and splatting of goofy childish freckles. I don’t feel so odd when I’m alone. It’s when I’m actually around people - especially people who I don’t know, or who have job titles much more important sounding than my name, or people who have travelled all over, or created something beautiful that they are proud of - that I notice how inadequate I feel in their shadows. That any small useless fact that I might know, or place I’ve travelled, and job I’ve held, feels unimportant or less.

I am also aware that a lot of these feelings are just that, feelings, and not actual facts. That these people are probably not actually feeling these things about me, but that’s the way my anxiety and depression feels. It keeps me in the basement of my own heart and mind because it feels safer. Like assuming all of these people already think those things about me will hurt less when I find out they actually do.

And that’s the part that also hurts - a lot - is when you do find out that those people feel and think those things about you. Sometimes you only find out because someone tells you, and sometimes you have to hear them making fun of you behind your back to realize it.  But it hurts all the same. 

And it hurt the most when I was actually actively trying to reorganize my life and try to pull myself up out of my own depression and self induced spiral, and was honestly trying; going to therapy weekly, removing myself from bad places, narrowing down my circle of people, and mostly cocooning myself from the rest of the world outside of throwing myself into a desk job and reading books on my commute to and from said job. I stopped using social media, stopped talking to a lot of people, stopped doing a lot of anything. 

And still I was a joke to people.  Turns out, the people I worked with were just... making fun of me without me knowing. I was trying my best to find a footing and ‘build a career at a company’ or whatever the fuck that really means, and they were just laughing at how uncool I was, or terribly dressed, or the annoying voice I posses. I mean, I understand why they didn’t like me - most of the time prior I barely liked me - but it just sucked to know that even when you were trying to be an okay human, one that wasn’t fucked up all of the time and actively working on yourself two mornings a week where I cried so often about how much everyone hated me and how much of a fuck up I was, hurt so much worse than all the times when I was a teenager and felt like I didn’t fit in. When the mean girl in our neighborhood would invite all the other kids out to play manhunt, but wouldn’t include me. Or the girls in middle school wouldn’t include me because I wasn’t an A-Team soccer player or whatever other bullshit made me weird to them.

Because now I was an adult, who knew she was a ghost for so long, and when I was finally started allowing myself to be seen in any formation - people laughed. It made me wish I’d stayed hidden in my night shift jobs, basement hideouts, and in the comfort of the naps I took that were basically second nights of sleep, just with daylight shining on outside. It felt worse to realize not staying a ghost allowed people to see me, and even then they didn’t like me. 

So I became a ghost, again. I cut off more people, stopped responding to others, asked some of them to stop reaching out to me, and just existed alone. I cried - a lot. In fields with my dog, who then was still a live, in parked cars outside of a job I hated, in the bathroom of that same job when I was constantly messing up and being allowed to have no responsibility, privacy, or final word on anything I did, I also cried in my bed, silently, almost every night as I stared at the ceiling fan spinning above my head and tried to transport myself to another place and time where it hurt less, I felt more secure, and maybe someone, or something, loved me back.  But most of the time when I cried it was for the life I thought I was going to have, the one I realized I was mourning even though I never lived it, and crying for the other part of the person I let myself become which was a person that people at these companies, and ‘friends’ I knew in some parts of my life was a good reason for them to laugh at.  

I cried a lot because I was never able to be someone, but what I think I was really crying for - and still do sometimes - is that I forget when I stopped wanting to be me.

Even the me that people in offices don’t like, or girls in middle school don’t understand. Sometimes I cried because I wished I could like that person more because at least than I’d feel like me. It’s hard to come to terms with that, hard to realize that I’m okay with not being liked by people, but it gets lonely realizing that having people in your life means all they want is for you to change. For you to fit the mold that they are okay with you being or who they would be comfortable bringing around their other friends. Someone who doesn’t laugh at the most inappropriate stuff, or snores in their sleep, or cries at commercials, whose car isn’t a mess, doesn’t hate folding laundry, knows when to call it a night at a bar one drink earlier than I do, or has a clear direction in their life and a slew of opportunities waiting for them at every corner with so many points of contact to makes those opportunities reality. Things for them to talk about at dinner parties or weddings as someone's date. 

Things that people who aren’t ghosts know how to do naturally and effortlessly. 

So I guess the real answer is, no, I don’t know when I actually became a ghost, if it was my whole life, or one morning when I woke up and just thought, ‘none of this is fun anymore,’ none of the getting high, or buzzed, or pretending I’m okay, or doing jobs that don’t make me happy, or never feeling the love of another human in the full ways that I wished I could, but instead tried to ignore and pretend I didn’t desire or want in my life. I’m not really sure when it all happened, I just know that I remember it all happening; slowly in random bouts of progression and over so many minutes of a life I kind of feel I’ve wasted to some extent, and hell, I’m unsure if I’ve ever really stopped fully wanting to be one. Sometimes it just feels easier to move through places and moments alone because it hurts less, somehow. Like it’s easier for everyone else if I just never get too attached to anything in fear that I’ll hurt them, or worse, they’ll break me, again. And I’m really tired of being broken by things that I may have thought were for me, but ended up not being. 

And then there are the random moments where I peak out into the world around me, fully noticed by someone - in a normal everyday running of an errand kind of way - and walk away from a conversation or an event and feel a slight bit of content in my heart that I think maybe it really doesn’t hurt worse than never actually feeling anything fully. It’s an odd catch 22. Wanting to be seen, and being fearful of being seen in fear, on both ends, that you’ll end up broken somehow. 

I’m unsure what any of it fully means, I guess for anyone. Do other people feel that way? Is it just a whole group of us who exist out there and feel - lost? Or scared? Or afraid to be who they actually are in fear that the life they lead now will no longer suit them or make them actually happy? And I know that this must be something people struggle with in terms of sexual orientation, but in a way, even as someone who does not struggle with that and knows I am into a certain sex, I still understand it in the sense that faking who I am feels wrong.  It feels like selling out. Like I’m only living to appease other people, and I wish more times that other people were willing to live to accept other people for who they were; faults and all. Even in this cancel culture world, not everyone is good, and not everyone is bad; people can be so many things, it’s the idealization to put a label on everything that makes things harder I think. We aren’t ingredients in a candy bar for consumption, we’re people - ghosts and all - but we are all allowed to be phases of ourselves sometimes. Sometimes, you have to become what you’re not all of the time to maybe even fully realize who you are, or want to be, most of the time. 

Unsure if any of that makes sense, but I think I’ll have to break it down even further. Maybe next time. In another post, where I don’t ramble on forever and come to no conclusion. This thesis would fail if I had to hand it in for a grade. 

Unless of course it was a scientific experiment hypothesis; and maybe that’s all life really is - one giant cosmic experiment where the rules will forever change and the points don’t really matter. Some giant game of Whose Line is it Anyway?

From one ghost behind a computer to another reading, goodnight.

xoxo

#diary #what am i even doing #uncertanity #depression #anxiety #honesty #being a ghost #how to exist #life #am i existing #existential crisis #what is the point #cosmic joke #understanding #trying #scientific experiment #essay #essayist #too many words #clearly too much #new post #writing #art #thoughts #blog #live blogging #drugs #cleaning up #the art of giving a fuck #the art of not giving a fuck

[violetrose-art]

Corpse Bride Headcannons, Theories, and Ideas

This is just a list of the theories, headcannons, and ideas I came up with for Tim Burton's Corpse Bride. I might add more later on, so watch out

-Victor and Victoria were born and raised in a small English village close to the Atlantic Ocean called Burtonsville

-Victor’s full name is Victor Ichabod Van Dort

-When he was about four years old, Victor found Scraps as a mixed-breed puppy in an alleyway. Nell and William refused at first, but William saw how his son quickly became attached to the dog, so he let him stay. Sadly, when Victor turned eight, Scraps was brutally mauled and tragically killed while trying to defend his beloved owner from a bigger, nastier dog

-Victor’s favorite toy as a child was a stuffed horse he called Usher. He begged his mother to let him keep Usher until he was fourteen

-Victor learned to play the piano when he was about five years old. He was a fast learner and he picked up on it very quickly, and his tutor was greatly impressed by his skill. His favorite musicians are Mozart and Beethoven

-Victor works as an artist to draw many types of butterflies for the Lepidoptera Community, as well as a professional pianist. Originally, his father wanted him to work as a fish merchant and take over the family business, but Victor politely told him “no thanks” because he wanted to follow his own dreams. William was disappointed, but deep down he wanted his son to be happy. So he usually encouraged him, especially when Nell wasn’t around

-Outside from his butterfly works, Victor does paintings during his free time at home. The color theory that he studied was written by Eugene De La Croix·         Victor has been drawing since he was a child. His favorite things to draw are animals, butterflies, and other insects. He also does landscapes and people sometimes. He also likes to write sometimes, mostly a few poems and a couple musical compositions. Nothing he took too seriously, though. He also likes to sing when he thinks he’s alone

-In his childhood, Victor used to have a somewhat regular playmate named Humphrey. They were almost friends, but when William’s business became very successful and Victor’s family became rich when Victor was about eleven, Humphrey stopped coming over and the two boys haven’t seen each other since

-When he was a boy, he learned how to speak French because his mother thought it was “high-class” to be bilingual. Victor was diligent in his studies and thus has a good knowledge of spoken and written French. He may not be perfectly fluent, but he can carry on a decent conversation

-Victor is severely allergic to walnuts and poison oak

-Victor had a cousin named Mary whom he was very fond of, but she passed away when she was seventeen and he was six. She got lost in the woods and was attacked and devoured by a pack of wolves

-Victor doesn’t drink anything more than the occasional glass of champagne or wine. The reason? Mayhew once got him drunk and it turns out Victor is a CHATTY drunk. As in, he’ll tell you his life story at the slightest provocation. Victor was so embarrassed when he sobered up that he nearly swore off all alcohol forever. It’s very unlikely he’ll ever knowingly get wasted again·         After he and Victoria were finally married, Victor gained confidence and he stood up against Victoria's parents earning him some respect

-Victor HATES smoking. He was secretly offered a cigarette from Mayhew when he was fourteen and after the first inhale, he was coughing and gagging so much that he nearly threw up

-Victor is the tallest member of the Van Dort family, making him stand out quite a bit during family reunions

-He may not be a sporty person, but Victor enjoys cycling. He also loves a good game of chess

-Victor adores reading. His favorite writers are William Blake, Charles Baudelaire, Lewis Carroll, Edgar Allan Poe, and William Shakespeare

His favorite books are “Les Miserables”, “Dracula”, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, “The Fall of the House of Usher” and other works by E.A. Poe. The play/book that he hates the most is “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” because he strongly dislikes this style of a love triangle in the plot line. He also has a fascination with penny dreadful. Yes, he knows the serial stories are really nothing but lowest common denominator trash, but he loves them anyway. He got hooked on them as a teenager thanks to Mayhew’s nephew, and he used to keep a secret stash under his mattress

-When she still rather young, Victor noticed that his daughter, Emily, became very interested in music, so he taught her how to play the piano as well as the violin

-Victoria was the one who taught her son, Edward, how to read and they bond over books and stories they both enjoy

-The worst day of Victor’s life happened about three weeks after Scraps died. Victor’s parents had some business friends over for tea, and forced a still-grieving Victor to come down and be social. Poor Victor made a bad impression, being quieter and clumsier than normal, culminating in knocking over one man, tripping his wife, and insulting said wife’s coat in apologizing. Nell, humiliated and enraged, turned on her son once the guests were off, screaming at him about what an embarrassment he was while they were still standing on the front steps. Victor was so horrified, embarrassed, and depressed that he came too close to taking his own life. He got his hands on his father’s straight-razor, snuck into the bathroom, and actually had it to his neck when a noise from outside the bathroom spooked him and he dropped the razor and ran back to his room as fast as he could. Fortunately, the distraction gave him time to realize suicide wouldn’t fix anything, and he made a promise to himself never to stoop that low again. His parents also apologized the next day, which helped a lot. Victor avoids telling anyone about it unless he feels he has to, certain they’ll think less of him for it

-Victor was born June 9th, 1867

-Victoria’s full name is Victoria Elizabeth Everglot

-When she was very little, Victoria had always wanted a pet (like a cat or a small dog) but her mother said that having a pet in the house was uncivilized and improper and that all animals were filthy and uncouth creatures

-Victoria’s favorite hobby is sewing and knitting. She often designs most of her husband’s clothes and others in her spare time

-As a child, Victoria tried to be closer to her parents, but often found the family maid Hildegarde as more of a mother figure

-Victoria loves to read in her spare time… even though most people call it scandalous for a woman to do such a thing. Her mother even said reading was too passionate for a young lady. At a young age, Hildegarde, taught Victoria how to read (something her parents never found out about)

-Her favorite books are “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, “A Christmas Carol”, and any classic fairy tale. And her favorite writers are Charles Dickens, Lewis Carroll, Charles Perrault, Hans Christian Andersen, and the Brothers Grimm

-Victoria’s favorite toy as a child was a china doll she called Miss Liddie. By the time she was about eleven, she had grown out of it. Even though she knows she’s too old for toys now, she still misses Miss Liddie

-Victoria isn’t allergic to anything, but she does tend to sneeze if dust is in the air

-When she was a little girl, Victoria was nearly trampled by a horse-drawn carriage, which made her develop a slight fear of horses

-Victoria likes to sing whenever she thinks she’s alone. She doesn’t believe it, but she has a surprisingly lovely singing voice

-When she was a little girl, Victoria was entranced by the piano in her house and she immediately wanted to learn how to play but her mother had told her daughter many times that music was improper and too passionate for a young lady. But Victor always tells his wife that music is a wonderful way to express oneself and that he would be more than happy to teach her how to play

-Victoria used to have a regular playmate named Gwyneth in her girlhood. They were good friends, but when Victoria reached her pre-teen years, Gwyneth stopped coming over to play for some reason and she never heard from her since

-Victoria is the most beautiful member of the Everglot family

-When she was in her early teens, Victoria secretly dreamed of becoming a writer someday

-Victoria was born February 3rd, 1868

-Victor and Victoria had two children. Their names are Emily Alice Van Dort (age 15) and Edward Daniel Van Dort (age 10)

-When Victor and Victoria were married, they moved out of their parents houses and bought a beautiful two story house that sat at the edge of a large meadow that was right next to the forest… plus, the house was a good mile or so away from Burtonsville

-The Corpse Bride’s full name is Emily Charlotte Cartwell

-Emily was born into a wealthy family. Her parents, Lord and Lady Cartwell, couldn’t say ‘no’ to their daughter and they practically gave her everything she asked for, so she became incredibly spoiled, selfish, and incredibly naïve·         Emily was a hopeless romantic, often spending time reading romance novels and daydreaming about her wedding when she was alive

-When she was alive, Emily was blonde

-When she made it to Heaven, Emily was finally reunited with her mother and father

-When their daughter disappeared, Lord and Lady Cartwell were so sad and depressed that they wasted away and passed away in their sleep

-Before ascending, Emily considered Bonejangles to be one of her best friends. They used to sing and dance together all the time. He even taught her how to play the piano

-When she was alive, Emily knew how to ride horses. She even had a pet white mare she called Aphrodite

-Emily Cartwell died at age eighteen

-Lord Barkis’s full name is Barkis Finbar Campbell Bittern

-Emily met Lord Barkis while she was on an outing with her parents. Her parents had their backs turned while Emily was talking with Barkis. After only a few minutes of talking, she was instantly smitten with him and she accepted his immediate proposal of marriage… and her mother and father were not happy about it at all. Emily and her father had a huge fight and she decided to elope with Barkis… but for her, it didn’t go as planned

-Barkis told her that if they were going to be together, they would need money. Emily wasn’t sure, but in the end, she agreed

-On the night she was running away, Emily stole not only her mother’s wedding dress, veil, gloves, and best shoes, but she also stole the jewels from her mother’s jewelry box and a large bag of gold from her father’s office

-As Emily was waiting for her fiancé that night, Barkis snuck up behind her, stabbed her, knocked her out cold, took all of her money and jewels, and buried her alive. She woke up in a shallow grave and tried to claw her way out before suffocating to death. That's why her hand was sticking out of the ground

-Barkis was married six times in his life. He and his first wife were married out of love until he found her cheating on him and killed her. The second was an elderly widow for her money. The third one got away before he could even hurt her, but she drowned herself in a deep, rushing river. The fourth was a drunken lonely woman who “accidentally” fell out of a two story window. The fifth being Emily and the sixth being Victoria

-In the Land of The Dead, Barkis was brutally beaten and ripped apart before he was imprisoned in an iron coffin chained seven feet underground with other criminals like him for all eternity

-After he ran away, Barkis studied linguistics in French, Latin, German, and Russian in order to impress others… or use different fake accents to fool them with

-Barkis’s original first name was Bradford and he had a rough upbringing. His father was a violent alcoholic and his mother was a reckless prostitute and they both abused Bradford as a child until he ran away from home at age sixteen and changed his name to Lord Barkis

-Barkis has a twin sister who had a son named Hector. Hector greatly looked up to his uncle and when he heard about what happened to Barkis, he was taken aback, but he also felt he could use that to his advantage. When he turned 30, Hector came to Burtonsville to exact revenge on the Van Dort family… but he also developed a vile infatuation with Emily. Whenever he tries to woo the young girl (which always fails since Emily finds him repulsive and cruel), Victor gladly steps in the way every time and he always sternly tells Hector to stay away from his daughter

-Mrs. Van Dort’s full name is Eleanor Minerva Fitzackley Van Dort

-Nell came from a lower class family. She lived with her father, mother, and three sisters. However, Nell wasn’t happy with her place in society and she wanted to became something more

-Nell and William first met when she was caught in the rain one stormy day and he offered her a ride home in his fish merchant carriage. She declined at first, but quickly gave in when it started to bucket down. As they rode together, they started chatting and soon became very interested in one another

-Nell and William made their way back to the village just in time to witness Emily's soul disappear into the night as a swarm of blue butterflies

-When she learned about Mayhew’s death, Nell quietly wept in her room about it. She might be overbearing, but deep down, she truly does care for the ones closest to her. She also adores her husband and son, even if she does find them a bit irritating. She just has a hard time showing her emotions

-Mr. Van Dort’s full name is William Oscar Van Dort

-William loves talk about fish and his business, he always tries to weasel in the topic whenever possible to his wife and son's annoyance

-William used to take Victor on fishing trips when he was younger, which practically bored Victor to death

-While he tends to be the more passive one in their relationship, William does put his foot down when the situation calls for it

-It may not seem like it, but William adores Victor and he tries to do whatever he can to be there for his son

-When Victor turned sixteen, William gave him a silver pocket watch with a design of a fish on the front and his initials

-Lady Everglot’s full name is Maudeline Hortense Glottberg Everglot

-Maudeline and Finis didn’t plan on having a child in the first place and Victoria came as more of a surprise

-Maudeline had a sister named Marie who loved playing the piano. They didn’t get along in their youth and they drifted apart as they grew up. Maudeline wasn’t even invited to Marie’s wedding to Lord Frederick Cartwell

-When Marie died, she left her piano to her sister, but Maudeline never touched it. She felt it brought back too many memories and forbade Victoria from going near it was well

-Lord Eveglot’s full name is Finis Augustus Everglot

-While he was disappointed in not having a son, Finis deeply cares for his daughter. He just doesn’t know how to show it

-Even though they’re not good at sharing their feelings, Maudeline and Finis do care for each other to some extent

-Hildegarde has lots of grandchildren and she visited their home in the countryside as often as she could before she passed away

-When he was alive, Bonejangles was a freelance jazz musician from America and his original name was Dexter. He was finishing a gig in England when he died in a horrible carriage accident (he was run over), which also caused him to lose his eyeball

-General Bonesapart and General Wellington were actually General Napoleon Bonaparte and English General Wellington, two real historical figures. However, even though they hated each other at first, they became real pals eventually

-Although they don't say it out loud, people in Burtonsville make fun of Maudeline's hair cut, calling her names like "Rump Head" or "Hairmungus"

-Elder Gutknecht is one of the many Afterlife Lords, responsible for managing the dead after they pass. Among them include God, the Devil, King Vince, Hades, Hel, Osiris, Odin, Freya, and, the Hindu God Yama

-The Underworld is actually thousands of miles underground and due to the magic surrounding it. Mortals can't access it unless they die themselves

-After his death, Mayhew kicked the habit of smoking altogether and is very glad he did

-Elder Gutknecht has a fearsome Hellhound by the name of Infernius, his fierce and ever loyal pet. He guards the entrance to the Land of the Dead and can breathe fire that heats up to 900 degrees

-The fellow who was cut cleanly in half was an English gentleman by the name of Herman, who lived in Burtonsville years before. He ended up meeting his death due to an accident involving a rather large guillotine

-Generals Bonesapart and Wellington are the leaders of army of the Land of the Dead, but are only called into combat in times of great peril

-The people of Burtonsville sometimes call Lord Everglot “Everglut” behind his back

-Victoria has a cousin by the name of Dolores. Dolores is something of a freeloading con artist who moved to America when she left home. She considers herself a very attractive woman, but she just wears too much makeup and rather revealing clothes and is actually rather sleazy in reality. She also smokes, which Victoria and the rest of the Everglots are strongly against

-When he was alive, Elder Gutknecht used to be a wise sage that helped people in their time of need. He passed away when he reached the age of 102

-The Everglots were a family of nobles with a significant amount of money, but due to a bit of excessive gambling (by Dolores), they lost almost everything

-Almost every member of the Everglot family is rather ugly due to bad genetics. Victoria considers herself very, VERY lucky to have not inherited such genes (she unknowingly received her natural beauty from her late Aunt Marie)

-Pastor Galswells was raised in a strict environment. He was taught that kindness was weakness and to be stern and firm with everyone. He passed away shortly after the official wedding of Victor and Victoria and a new pastor took his place. His name is Pastor Ivan Blackthorp and he’s much kinder and friendlier than Galswells ever was

-The reason Victor named his dog Scraps was because he only ate table scraps

-The people of Burtonsville have a secret inside joke about the squatty walk Finis Everglot does where they assume that he would jump like a toad and snatch up a fly at any moment

-Burtonsville is well known for its raven population and there's an old legend saying they're messengers to the Land of the Dead

-For some weird reason, William Van Dort is known to mutter the words "Fishy, fishy, fish" in his sleep and it honestly creeps Nell out

-Paul, the decapitated head waiter, was actually a French man who served Marie Antoinette during her reign. Unfortunately, he was unjustly executed by association with the queen when the French Revolution broke out and he was never able to find his body after he died

-Several people have assumed Maudeline's hair is an actual wig and she's bald under it… only to be mistaken, resulting in a whooping

-Lord Barkis was a master of disguise in life and was never caught by the police as a result

-The Underworld has a prison known as the Iron Tomb and it holds some pretty infamous inmates who include Bluebeard, Caligula, Henry VIII, Mary I of England, and many more

-The Town of Burtonsville was actually built on an ancient burial ground, which is possibly why the Land of the Dead is connected to it

-After her death, Emily was made the official guardian angel of the Van Dort family

This is all I've got so far, but feel free to tell me what you think and tell me which one is your favorite

#corpse bride #Tim Burton

[cavehags]

i realize this will probably bring up old drama so you might not want to answer it. but do you ever regret, however on purpose or on accident, bringing all that unnecesary hate towards Katara? i'm really sad and dissapointed tbh. i'm a woman of color and katara was so important to me growing up. my favorite animated woman ever. and then this resurgence comes and theres so, so much unnecesary hatred for her and everyone ignoring everything that makes her a good character.

(2/3) 2- and you know, i expected this from the male side of the fandom. they were misogynistic to her and the others even back then so i would expect it to be even worse with how internet culture is more mysogistic now that ever. and i wasnt wrong. male atla fans had some truly horrible takes and views that just came across as racism and misogyny. but, i expected these circles to be better. to be a safe space for us woc who love this character. but i found the same weird hatred for her.

(3/3) 3-i just, i cant believe i feel less welcome now that i did even back then. and back then i didnt even paricipate really. but at least i could enjoy fandom content without stumbling into misogyny and racism every other post. also sorry for sending this to your personal blog b i just wanted to let you know you controbuted to that too even if it wasnt your intention. at least you realized that and arent contributing to it anymore right? cause honestly the hate has only gotten worse not less.

hey anon. thanks for asking this question, because i hadn’t addressed this topic previously and this gave me an opportunity to do so. 

no, i don’t regret publicly interpreting a character whom i love through a nuanced and human lens. and i don’t regret combating the one-dimensional interpretation of this character, which posits that she’s merely an vaguely defined object of attraction for some boy or another, and a singularly gentle, mature, maternal figure whose sole purpose in life is to nurture others. those interpretations suck. they rob her of the humanity and complexity that make her character unique and they stem from misogynistic tropes that reduce women to the services they can provide to men. the thing in the world that matters most to me is fighting misogyny, and this trend to diminish a proud and powerful and angry teenage girl by exaggerating only her most socially acceptable traits is misogyny. 

unlike you, i did not grow up watching avatar: the last airbender. the shows i watched growing up did not have a lot of girls who felt real to me. the girls i saw on tv growing up were simple. they were the main characters’ crushes. they were simple, desirable, usually sweet and loving, and not much else. if they had a flaw, it was that they were, at best, “awkward.” whatever that means. or if they were the protagonists, which was rare, they were nice enough and tried to do the right thing, but they never had strong feelings like resentment and anger. they weren’t allowed to be unfeminine which meant they weren’t allowed to be bitter, angry or in any way flawed. they didn’t look like the version of girlhood i knew to be true for me personally, which included a lot of anger and frustration and powerlessness. 

that crappy representation left me with internalized misogyny that chased me for longer than i’d like to admit. i did not learn to think of girls as humans who could be as interesting and flawed and messy as the boys were. i did not value myself as a girl, and later a woman, because i thought the best thing a girl could be was... bland. boring. pretty, but empty. passionless.

it would have meant the world to me to see a character like katara. 

because katara is angry. she has every right to be: she’s had so much stolen from her, including her mother, her people, and her childhood. katara has a short fuse. she yells. she snaps. she fucks up. sometimes she makes mean jokes! i never saw a single one of those dreamily perfect cartoon love interests make mean jokes when i was a kid. she is extremely idealistic--it’s her defining character trait--but we see the bad side of that as well as the good. we see that her need to help others  leads her to act rashly, to get herself into danger, to put others in danger too. 

and she has her very own arc. it’s not about her love for another person, either (what a snooze of a storyline); it’s about growing up and learning to break down some of that stubborn black-and-white thinking that we all indulge in as children. it’s a true coming-of-age arc and it belongs to a fourteen-year-old girl. 

when i, to use a phrase i find crass, “entered the fandom,” i quickly realized that other fans’ perceptions of katara did not line up with the things i valued most about her. other fans seemed to valorize her most socially acceptable feminine qualities: her generosity, her kindness, her dedication to helping others. and of course i love those parts of her--i love everything about her--but what is really remarkable about avatar: the last airbender is that katara’s many important virtues are also counterbalanced by equally significant flaws. a good character has flaws. katara is a good character, and a deviation from the characters who made up my formative media landscape, because she has flaws. her temper, her idealism, her stubbornness--these are flaws. flaws make her seem real and human and challenge the mainstream sentiment that girls are not real or human.

it simply did not occur to me that celebrating these aspects of katara that make her a realistic and well-written teenage girl would spark ire from other adult fans. it absolutely did not occur to me that i would then be blamed for somehow causing misogynistic interpretations of this character, particularly given that misogynistic interpretations of this character are the very thing i sought to correct when i began to blog about this television show.

i’m told there are “fans” on instagram and tiktok who think katara is whiny, annoying, and overly preoccupied with her trauma. i do not use instagram or tiktok, so i wouldn’t know, but i’ll take your word for it. respectfully, however, they didn’t get that from me. misogynistic takes on katara have existed since before i came along. i have never, ever called katara whiny. and seeing as i have been treating my own PTSD in therapy for nine years, you can safely conclude that i don’t think anyone, katara included, is overly preoccupied with their trauma. that’s not a thing. do i think she’s annoying? of course not! as a character, she’s a delight. does she sometimes find real joy in aggravating her brother and her friends? yes, because she’s 14. i, an adult, am not annoyed by her. sokka and toph often are, because that is katara’s goal and katara always succeeds in her goals. she’s not “annoying.” 

if there are “fans” who are indeed following lesbians4sokka and somehow misreading every single post and interpreting them to mean that we hate katara and they should too, i don’t really know what you want me to do about that. l4s has over ten thousand followers and we have already posted so many essays disavowing katara hate. our feminist and antiracist objectives in running the blog are literally pinned with the headline “please read.”

furthermore, you cannot reasonably expect my co-blogger and me to control the way our words will be received. we should not have to, and are not going to, add a disclaimer to every post saying that when we critique or make jokes about a teenage girl we are doing so through a feminist lens. our url is lesbians4sokka, and we are clearly women. if that alone doesn’t make it obvious, then refer back to that pinned post. 

it is indescribably frustrating, and really goddamn depressing as well, that people are so comfortable with the misogynistic binary of Perfect Good Women and Flawed Wicked Bitches that they perceive any discussion of a woman’s flaws to be necessarily relegating her to the latter camp. if that is how you (a generic you) perceive women, then i’m sorry, but you’ve internalized sexism that i cannot cure you of. and it’s unjust to expect my friend and me to write for the lowest common denominator of readers who have not yet had their own feminist awakenings. we do not write picture books for babies. we write for ourselves, and with the expectation that our readers can think critically. reading media through a feminist lens is my primary interest; i have no intention of excising that angle from my writing.

as i go through my life, i am going to embrace the flaws of girls and women because not enough people do. as long as the dominant narratives surrounding women are “good and perfect” and “unlovable wh*re,” you’ll find me highlighting flawed, realistic, righteously angry women in the margins. and for what it’s worth, it’s not just katara. i champion depictions of angry girls in all sorts of media. that’s sort of my whole thing. my favorite movies are part of the angry girl cinematic universe: thoroughbreds, jennifer’s body, hard candy, jojo rabbit, et cetera. on tv, in addition to katara, you’ll find me celebrating tuca and bertie, poppy from mythic quest, tulip and lake from infinity train, korra, and more. i adore all these women and see myself in them. i hope you find this suitably persuasive to establish that i have sufficient Feminist Cred, according to your standards, to observe and write about these very flawed and human fictional women. 

what i’m saying is this: i decline to take responsibility for the misogynistic discourse orbiting a children’s cartoon. as someone who writes about that series from a perspective that seeks to add humanity and nuance to the reductive, one-dimensional, overwhelmingly sexist writing that already exists, i am pretty taken aback that i am the one being blamed for the very problem i sought to address. except not that taken aback because i am a woman online, haha! and this is always how it goes for us. 

finally, i think it sucks that you’ve chosen to blame me for a problem that begins and ends with the patriarchy. i can’t control the way this response will be perceived, just like how i can’t control the way anything will be perceived because i am just one human woman, but i do hope you choose to be reflective, and consider why you’ve chosen this avenue to assign blame. 

#anyway! this answer is too long and it's undignified to answer ''fandom drama'' queries on le blog #but here we are in 2020