#Diamonds Online | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

circular-bircular · 4 months ago

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I think there genuinely is an enormous problem in online spaces, I think in part due to the whole concept of purity culture, where everything people say and do online is scrutinized — not just in the case of “Is this person a good person,” but “Does this person represent the values we wish to see 24/7.”

Nobody is perfect, dear lord, and this place is not the place to seek perfection regardless. This is tumblr, home of the go nuts, show nuts rule; tumblr, which is as invaded by fandom and was originally meant to be a pseudo Facebook. People who use this place didn’t come here originally to be activists. And if you did, I'm a little concerned, genuinely, for your mental health and how well you're distancing yourself from difficult subjects and giving yourself the time you need to decompress.

And yet, we keep holding people up to this frankly impossible standard of representing a movement, regardless of what their blog content originally was for. Suddenly, every system on tumblr has to represent a certain Ideal for System Rights! They have to have the right views on system accountability, endogenic systems, plurality as an umbrella, littles, dormancy, fusion, functional multiplicity, parts language, the ToSD-

This is fucking ridiculous. A laundry list of topics that people have on their shoulders, along with every other laundry list of things that people need to care about. Fuck you if you're oppressed in any single way, you need to form opinions on every single one of those things, and if any opinion is out of place, then You Are Not A True [IDENTITY].

Somewhere along the way, many of us (I’m including myself here for a reason) managed to either convince ourselves or be convinced that we need to be Correct in some way about how this all works. That’s prideful and haughty at best, but typically moreso just… so detrimental to healing. None of us will be perfect… and so, when those of us who aren’t perfect are imperfect publicly, we are often harassed or attacked — or some of us attack others, for whatever reason it may be. And somehow, someway, we accepted that this is just how it works.

It's okay to discuss those things you disagree with online. It's okay to look at someone's take about, say, system accountability, or plurality, or littles, and reblog with your corrections and even anger! But you must be doing this with acknowledgement that people will be in different places, healing in different ways, and that there is nothing wrong with that. They're their own person!

But moreover, that's a whole ass blog. That's not a reflection of a person as a whole -- hell, it's rarely a reflection of the person at all. It's just a blog that they can put anything on. Have we not all heard the stories of people who've "Completely Changed" online, becoming people who others cannot recognize? People lie on the internet, intentionally or not.

Even me. I try my best to be who I am in real life here, and I share a LOT of myself with you all. You know I'm a teacher, and engaged, and have the most perfectest little cat in the world. But do you know me? I recently just got to visit an online friend in person (It was absolutely fucking incredible and I can't wait to do it again), and the entire time, I felt like I was just so awkward; I really struggled to stay present and talk more, which is something I don't struggle with nearly as much online. Believe it or not, I am not this long-winded in real life.

Maybe that's not lying, but it's not who I am. It's me being fundamentally different online than in real life. You all see me entirely through just the blogs you know me through. Maybe it's circie bircie, maybe you know my D&D blog, maybe you know me through positivitycombopack, or maybe this just shows up randomly on your dashboard. Maybe you don't know me at all.

And that goes for every person you see online. Do you actually know them? Do you know their beliefs? What they stand for? Why they believe those beliefs?

Or are you just seeing a blog?

#syscourse #musings #diamonds are a boy's best friend #lol im a bit too nervous to toss this into sysconversation #but if anyone wants to talk feel free #I think this goes for so much more than syscourse too #so much online nowadays is this feeling of hunting for the Inevitable Bad Thing(tm) that someone has done #Forgetting that this is a screen with words on it #And not someone's... actual self.

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myloveforhergoeson · 17 days ago

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Online Songs - Chapter 2

Find me on wattpad + ao3!

Chapter 2: Who I Am Hates Who I've Been ~ 3k

Kendall Knight usually found the Mountain Aire High School hockey arena a place of comfort. Coach Finnstock had given him the keys to the facility after he’d been unanimously voted captain of the team, and there was rarely a time when Kendall wasn’t spotted inside shooting across the ice on his skates.

He’d led the school hockey team to the state championships last year - youngest captain in the school’s history at age sixteen - through hard work, determination, and hours and hours of practice on the ice. It wasn’t a position just handed over to any sophomore; It was a spot he’d been vying for his entire freshman year and had rightfully earned through his impressive physical prowess and natural leadership skills.

The home of the fighting Albatross was supposed to be packed this time of day, from his teammates warming up for practice, coaches and managers noisily discussing which warm-ups to start with, classmates filling the stands to catch a glimpse of the finest athletes MAHS had to offer, but for now, it was quiet. Kendall was the only one around.

Finnstock had sent out an email earlier stating he’d gone home sick in the middle of the day, so practice was canceled for the afternoon.

The team already had a hard workout that morning, one that left his best friends practically crawling into first-period pre-calc, so Kendall supposed, for the first day of school, things could be a lot worse.

As he slowly made his way to the metal stands overlooking the playing field, the blonde shook his head to no one in particular. James, Logan, and Carlos are always trying to get out of practice.

Though he loved his three best friends, he could tell hockey was only a fun pastime for them. It wasn’t their passion, their purpose. At least, not like it was for him.

James Diamond, from the ripe age of five years old, has been shooting for the stars… Of the Hollywood Walk of Fame. There was hardly a moment where he wasn’t rattling off about some daydream he had about starring in the world's biggest and most popular movie musical alongside whoever he deemed the hottest celebrity at the time. One of the centers on the team, such a showboating position certainly fit well for him and his fantastical ego.

Logan Mitchell, resident sports statistician, and all-around know-it-all knew he wanted to be a doctor from the moment he learned the meaning of the word. His brain absorbed information like a sponge, and his friends often relied on him for help with their schoolwork. He and Kendall often worked on game strategies to determine which plays would run best against their opponents. While this was his unofficial team role, on the ice, Logan was an impressive right-winger and quite the speed demon.

Carlos Garcia, like most other teens their age, was still trying to figure out his life’s passion. Often found volunteering at local animal shelters or his church, his calling seemed to be helping just about anyone he could out of the pure kindness of his heart. He was probably one of the most loyal people the three of them knew, which translated well to his role on the team. Though he would never admit it if asked, Carlos was one of the best goalies, Kendall would gladly argue, in all of Minnesota. Maybe even in the entire Midwest.

And while Kendall loved that they had goals of their own, just like he did, it often led to distractions when it came to game time.

He couldn’t afford distractions, not if he wanted to make the Minnesota Wild starting lineup right out of college.

Air from the massive AC units cooling the space nipped at the pieces of bare skin poking out from his heavy flannel and jeans; Kendall preferred to be a bit colder than was comfortable. It reminded him of the adrenaline rush of flying down the ice, the roar of a jam-packed arena. Duluth, Minnesota often had the perfect weather for that feeling to hang around permanently, so that even if he was nowhere near the arena, simply stepping outside and taking a breath of the fresh air helped emulate those sensations.

Besides, the team had worked hard these last few weeks, getting prepared for the upcoming season and going over the drills each member would help run for freshman tryouts. Depending on when Coach was feeling better, that was supposed to happen at the end of the week.

A few fresh-faced fourteen-year-olds had already run up to Kendall and his friends in the hallway during passing period, chattering about this and that as they tried to get in with one of the team’s most popular members.

With a sigh, Kendall maneuvered his way down onto the freezing metal bench, so thoroughly chilled he felt it prickle through the rough material of his pants. Dusty Vans kicked up on the row in front of him, he surveyed the expanse of ice in front of him. A place that, for the last two years, had nearly been more important to him than his own home.

Of course, his mother, and secretly, his little sister, would kill him if they knew he thought that, but considering everything that had happened over the last few weeks, he suspected they might give him a pass just this once.

It wasn’t anyone else’s fault but his own. Not really. Everybody knew that hockey is a full-contact sport and that accidental injuries are more than common. If Kendall hadn’t stayed up so late filming that stupid YouTube video the other three had convinced him to make, he wouldn’t have been so tired at practice the next day.

James, Carlos, and Logan had caught Kendall singing “Check Yes, Juliet” in the locker room, thinking he was all alone.

Singing was more of James’ thing, he and his current musical theater kick were killing the rest of their friends, but all four of the boys had accidentally been put in choir together their freshman year. From his year of singing practice, Kendall wasn’t terrible, but he certainly didn’t think possessed the same star quality the tall, brown-haired wannabe seemed to be filled to the brim with.

So, when James asked, “Why not pick up that old guitar in your room and film a cover?” Kendall nearly laughed in his face.

He would’ve seen senior Armando King sneak up on his right side to steal the puck.

In theory, the play would have been amazing, the check, perfectly legal. King’s torso slammed into his, leaving him scrambling to keep control of the puck, and since Kendall was running on fumes, his usual lightning-sharp reflexes weren’t there to stabilize him from such an intense hit.

What had transpired after that happened so fast, if someone sat down next to him right now and asked him to explain, Kendall wouldn’t have been able to give them a straight answer. All he knew was that he was flying down the ice one moment and in the blink of an eye, he was falling face-first, screaming out in pain as his right knee twisted, popped, and gave out below him.

His vision had gone stark white, agony nearly blinding him as his padded hands reached down, attempting to clutch the area to relieve even a sliver of the feeling to no avail. Had he not fallen directly onto it, now writhing around in an attempt to relieve the pressure he felt building up in the area, the tear in his ACL might not have been so bad.

The hospital visit with his mother had been nearly worse than the initial injury itself. The nurses had pumped Kendall full of the maximum dosage of morphine a teenager of his size was allowed and slapped a bulky, black brace over his knee to hold it in place. A pair of crutches had been shoved into his hands faster than he could ask why he’d need them.

So loopy on the painkillers, he barely remembered much of the visit, other than the faint echoes of Jennifer Knight’s worried voice, pleading with the ER doctor to tell her that her son would be okay.

The black-haired woman placed a hand on her shoulder, a comforting gaze flitting back and forth between Kendall and his mother as she referred them to an orthopedic surgeon.

Her words almost send another wave of shock through Kendall’s body.

Surgeon meant surgery. Surgery meant a long healing period. A long healing period meant no hockey.

No hockey. No college scholarship. No first-round draft pick for the NHL. No contract with the Minnesota Wild.

No way out of the shithole that was Duluth, Minnesota. For him or his family. All because he let himself get sidetracked and make that ridiculous video.

How stupid he’d been to lose sight of his goal for even just one evening.

Now, it left him sitting on the sidelines, eyesight tracing the red and blue lines forged into the ice as he ran over the last few practices in his head. Coach still expected him to show up to support the other members of the team, and Kendall did because that’s the kind of guy he was. Even in the face of his world crumbling down around him, he wouldn’t let any of them see anything but the inspiring and confident captain they knew him to be.

Sitting on the sidelines felt like even more of a punishment than his injury, but there was nothing more he could do at that moment besides show up for his team - Even on days they weren’t playing. Just being in the arena was close enough to playing for now, because he knew it would be a good, long while before he would be allowed on the ice again.

Backpack under his legs, Kendall shifted to grab the blue JanSport, unzipping the large pocket that held his binders and notebooks for assignments and whatnot. From the classes he attended today, it didn’t look like this academic year would be any challenge.

When he signed up for courses last year, he’d picked all on-level classes in hopes of skating by with as many A’s as he could and using his athletics as a shoo-in for a good scholarship; Logan, though picking nearly all AP’s for himself, had advised him that that was the best plan for his desired career path. But now, as Kendall looked over all his syllabi, a little voice in the back of his head worried an all-on-level year minus his spot on the hockey team might ruin any chance he had at getting into a good sports school.

That is, of course, if his mother ever let him near a pair of ice skates ever again.

Buzz buzz

Kendall’s phone chime went off in his back pocket and his hand froze as it slid out of his flannel sleeve to retrieve it.

Incoming call: Mama K

Instantly, the boy rolled his eyes. To say she’d grown overprotective over him in the last few weeks would be the understatement of the century. He was almost happy school had started up again just so he could get out of the house and escape her incessant doting upon him and his injury.

Just thinking about it drew his attention to the dull ache in his knee he’d been trying to avoid acknowledging all day.

Pressing accept, he took a deep breath out, watching it condensate in the cold air. “Hello?”

“Hi Honey, I just saw the email from Coach about the cancellation. Did you see it before you had to trek all the way to the arena?”

“Yeah,” He lied, feeling slightly bad about it. The doctor said he wasn’t supposed to use his crutches for long distances and the MAHS arena was about as far from his sixth-period class as could be. “I’m in the library now going over some homework.”

On the other line, he could hear a bell ding a few times and someone yelled, “Order up!”

Blueberry Hill, Duluth’s most popular 50’s-themed diner, had served as her employer for nearly a decade. Just closing his eyes, Kendall could envision the pale blue dress she wore to work nearly every day and smell the delicious pancake stack he and his little sister, Katie, always ordered.

“My boss won’t let me out early to come get you. Can you wait until five for me to pick you up like we planned or can you catch a ride from someone else?”

That was another terrible thing about his injury; Kendall, despite just getting his driver's license, no longer had the freedom to drive himself to and from places anymore. Just another shitty thing to pile onto his already miserable circumstance.

Pulling the phone away from his ear, Kendall clocked the three o’clock time at the top of the screen and sighed. “I’ll wait. Thanks, Mom.”

The last thing he wanted to do was make his limitation someone else’s problem.

“No problem, baby. I’ll meet you outside the library then.” The sound of a ceramic plate shattering across the tiled floor rang out behind her. “Gotta go! Love you!”

“You too,” Her son grumbled, though he meant it with as much sincerity as he could muster. All she had done for him since the injury, and frankly, his entire life, was beyond appreciated, but his sixteen-year-old brain refused to let him communicate as such.

When he hung up the call, the picture on his lock screen, obscured by too many cracks in the glass to count, caught his eye. One, because of the shining silver cup, he and his three closest friends clutched in their gloved hands; Winning the Minnesota State High School hockey championships had earned them a faux Stanley Cup to keep in the MAHS display case. And two, the dazzling ear-to-ear grin he had on his face as he shared the victory with Carlos, James, and Logan.

Kendall couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt happy enough to smile like that. If only the boy in the photo knew what would come in just a few more months, he would have savored his time on the team as much as possible.

Hockey was something he’d taken for granted his entire life and he hated that it had taken something so drastic to get him to realize that.

Screen going black, he sighed, and now, his sad reflection was the only thing taking up his field of vision… Until his phone buzzed again, a notification from the YouTube app popping up on his screen.

One new comment - Check it out now!

A bushy brow instinctively quirked up. One new comment? I posted that video ages ago…

As much as he despised the recording now, he was trapped at school for another few hours. It was either look at the comment now and sulk about it or look at the comment later and sulk about it.

Biting the bullet now would at least let him do it in the peace of the hockey arena.

When he clicked on the pop-up on his lock screen, the app opened, and he was immediately assaulted with the sound of his voice flooding through his phone’s small speakers. “Hey, this is Kendall…”

“Shut up,” The boy muttered, cringing at how horrible the microphone quality on his mom’s old camera was as he quickly hit the mute button. How could anyone find this shit enjoyable when it sounds like it was filmed underwater?

Scrolling down to the comment section with his thumb, Kendall almost dropped his phone onto the hard metal flooring when he saw the sheer size of the essay someone had dropped below the video.

Probably some asshole with way too much time on their hands…

But, out of pure curiosity, he let himself begin to read.

Kendall K -

I accidentally stumbled across this video while looking for a history documentary. While it certainly wasn’t what I was expecting in the slightest, I wish to inform you that after multiple times rewatching this stunning work of art, I can safely say this is the best song I’ve ever heard. It was appalling to me that no one else had taken the time to send you a comment saying the same.

Based on the lyrics you’ve carefully constructed for this song, I assume that you, like I, are a fan of William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. The modern twist you have given such an old tale is such a fresh perspective. It nearly holds a candle to the source material! I am intrigued by your choice to give Romeo and Juliet in your song a happy ending - One that is such a stark contrast to that of the original play. What inspired this when you were writing? I always thought their tragedy ended so tragically, so I adore that in one version of the story they “forever will be.”

Additionally, you have a beautiful singing voice. It blends very well with the guitar, which you seem to be a master of as well. Are you self-taught? If so, that only adds to my astonishment of you and your craft. If not, your talent is still impressive nonetheless.

Thank you for sharing your work with the world. I eagerly await your next masterpiece.

With appreciation,

Daisy-Mae Denton

Kendall blinked at his screen, eyes jumping back to the top of the comment before reading the entire thing again.

Was this some kind of joke?

Every single person his age with access to the radio or the internet knew the song “Check Yes, Juliet.” That knowledge, mixed with the commenter's interesting choice of words and phrasing, sent some mixed signals surging through the teen’s brain.

Someone’s grandma being the only person to comment on his video was simply embarrassing… But at the time, their words had been filled with so many compliments, that Kendall couldn’t deny the small boost it sent to his ego.

Regardless, he didn’t plan on picking up his guitar and filming another video ever again - Lest he curse himself into something worse. Like a broken neck.

Whether it was boredom or kindness that sent his fingers flying to the keyboard to reply, he didn’t know.

Thx 4 the kind words Daisy-Mae, but the song isn’t mine + you’d probably like the original even better. Pls don’t expect anything else on this channel. I’ll be a one-hit wonder.

Hitting send on that message was nice; A sweet sign-off from his channel from a heartwarming interaction with someone who may well be halfway across the globe.

And with that, Kendall locked his phone and placed it back in his pocket, zipping up his backpack with the other hand. Enough time had been spent in the arena for the day, tips of his fingers and toes starting to sting from the cold without all his gear and padding. Besides, it would take him quite some time to reach the library on his crutches, so if he started now, he’d be able to hide the journey from his mother better when she picked him up.

The sound of the rubber tips of the crutches ends on the metal stands was unpleasant, echoing in the large, empty space around him, but Kendall did his best to ignore the sound by humming the chorus of “Check Yes, Juliet.”

Damn it, now that song is stuck in my head again…

When he made it to the doors, he maneuvered through them the best he could without assistance - refusing to push the button to open them automatically - and swirled around to lock the doors when he finally made it outside.

His phone buzzed again, and thinking it was a message from one of his friends, Kendall didn’t think twice about opening the notification without paying much attention.

YouTube popped up again, displaying a new reply to his comment.

I do not believe I need to hear the original song to know I like your version better, Kendall K.

It’s disappointing to hear you are choosing not to make any more videos. You have a gift.

Please reconsider,

Daisy-Mae Denton

#online songs fic #big time rush #kendall knight #james diamond #carlos garcia #logan mitchell #kendall schmidt #james maslow #carlos penavega #logan henderson

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