#I do not need to defend myself to strangers on the internet

[ailithnight]

Someone did not appreciate my invitation to tell me about blorbo.

: (

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

[threadsun]

Real quick, not because it's come up or anything, I just want to be pre-emptive about it:

Remember that I'm not the world's leading expert in anything, including kink. Remember to take things I say with a grain of salt and do your own research. I never want to be one of those people who styles themself as an expert and is treated as some sort of guide/leader. For one thing, that's not a power dynamic I'm comfortable with. I'm here to make friends and have fun and spread my love of RACK, not be in charge of anyone (save for moderating the discord).

I happen to know more about queer identities, disability, and kink/bdsm/safe sex than the average person just because they're the three areas I've studied a lot and that most affect my personal life in various ways. But that doesn't mean I'll always be right about everything, or that I'll get across my knowledge well, or that you should just listen to everything I say and take it as fact.

Especially when it comes to kink and bdsm, you should never be teaching others about it just from what you've learned from me, nor should you be practicing it if I'm the only source you've gotten your information from. As a general rule of thumb, never get all your information from one source or believe people just because they usually know what they're talking about. Look for multiple sources, do your own research, remember that there's always going to be different perspectives and everyone has blindspots they don't know about.

So yeah, idk. I just don't wanna be creating weird power dynamics just because I happen to know a lot about kink and like to share my knowledge. And I definitely don't want people engaging in irl kinks based only on what they learn from me, because I've barely brushed the surface of what you need to know before you can safely engage in kink.

Also just because I tease and flirt does not make me anyone's dom. I don't engage in play without negotiation and trust (and friendship or money). If I'm flirting with someone, it's because they've consented to it and they can revoke that consent at any time. But I will never try to engage in actual power exchange here, that would be irresponsible and once again create a power dynamic I'm not comfortable with. I have my limits, and I'll make them clear, so never worry you've accidentally broken them without knowing. And don't worry about trying to defend me, I can defend myself.

[misshoneyimhome]

What's up buttercups! 💕

Chapter three is here, and things are starting to take shape! I know, we’re still keeping a steady pace, but trust me—good things take time (at least that’s what I keep telling myself while writing this f-ing slow burn…🙈).

As always, I hope you enjoy it. Happy reading, darlings! 😊✨

Tropes & warnings: inexperienced!reader x Auston Matthews, meet cute, strangers to friends, fake relationship, smut 18+, Auston x unknown female character, protected vaginal penetration

Word count: 6.8k Chapter one ; Chapter two

➼｡ﾟ

Chapter Three: Pucks, Plans, and Pretences*

::

“Dearest Toronto readers, it seems our Ice King has traded his signature cool for something decidedly warmer. A newly surfaced photo from the depths of the Scotiabank Arena has set the internet alight, capturing Auston Matthews and his now-infamous Mystery Queen in a moment that could rival any story.

The city can’t stop talking.

But what’s the real story? Is this the beginning of something genuine or a strategic distraction for Toronto’s captain? Matthews, ever the enigma, isn’t saying much—but that smirk of his has done little to quell the rumours.

As for his Mystery Queen, she’s still just that—a mystery. Ambitious, poised, and undeniably captivating, she’s become the city’s obsession overnight.

Whether this is love, strategy, or something in between, Toronto is hooked. And with Matthews at the helm of this unfolding drama, one thing is certain: it’s going to be a season to remember.

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer”

_

Tuesday –

Sitting by the high table in the compact kitchen of your small studio flat, you traced the rim of your coffee mug absentmindedly. The faint hum of the city outside was a comforting white noise, a familiar backdrop to your mornings. But the fragile peace didn’t last long.

Your phone buzzed sharply, shattering the moment. You groaned, setting down your mug to glance at the screen. Of course, it was Jess and Maya. The two of them had wasted no time diving into what was clearly the hot topic of the day.

Jess (7:13 AM): “Spotted: You and Auston. AGAIN. Girl, explain.”

Maya (7:15 AM): “We need a FULL breakdown. Coffee tonight. No excuses!”

You sighed, gripping the warm mug a little tighter as you composed a response. Your fingers hovered over the screen, hesitating.

You (7:18 AM): “There’s really nothing to explain.”

The reply came almost instantly.

Maya (7:19 AM): “Oh, please. You’re trending AGAIN. #MysteryQueen is still going strong. Spill.”

Jess (7:20 AM): “You can’t brush this off. Coffee tonight after work, our usual spot. Don’t make me come to your place.”

You let out a soft laugh despite the tension knotting in your chest. Jess and Maya were relentless, but their concern came from a good place. They were your best friends—your constants in a world that felt increasingly chaotic.

Still, the guilt nagged at you. They were cheering for you, defending you, believing you were swept up in some whirlwind romance. And here you were, dodging their excitement with half-truths and carefully constructed vagueness.

You (7:22 AM): “Fine. Coffee tonight. But it’s really not as exciting as you think, ladies.”

Jess (7:23 AM): “We’ll be the judges of that.”

Maya (7:24 AM): “Don’t forget the juicy details. We need to know EVERYTHING.”

You set your phone down with a heavy sigh, your appetite fading as stress settled over you like an unwelcome houseguest. It wasn’t just the messages. It was the weight of everything that had piled up over the past few days.

You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, watching the liquid swirl. The events of the gala played on a loop in your mind, every moment amplified now that the media had latched onto you. And then there was Auston.

Had you really agreed to fake-date Auston Matthews, the Ice King himself? The words “Let’s do it” echoed in your mind, making you wince. What had possessed you?

You knew the answer: desperation.

Auston’s reasons were crystal clear. He wanted control over the narrative. He needed a way to silence the incessant speculation about his personal life. His pitch had been logical, almost clinical. And you, standing at the crossroads of your career, had agreed.

You rolled your eyes at the thought. If his biggest problem is dodging rumours about his love life, he’s got it easy.

Your problems felt heavier. Tangible. Your boss’s voice rang in your ears, his warnings cutting through your thoughts: “No distractions. No drama. No more headlines.” The gala had already pushed you to the edge of his patience. And now? Now you were willingly diving into a situation that could unravel everything you’d worked for.

But wasn’t this what you wanted? A chance to make your mark, to prove you weren’t just another cog in the machine? Maybe this was the universe’s way of throwing you a lifeline—wrapped in chaos, sure, but a lifeline, nonetheless.

Or maybe you were just grasping at straws.

You sighed, pushing your barely touched breakfast aside. The decision had been made. There was no turning back now. Auston had given you an option, and you’d taken it.

Your to-do list for the day felt overwhelming. Face your boss. Navigate the fallout. And later, coffee with Jess and Maya. They’d want answers—real ones, not the half-hearted deflections you’d been giving them.

You weren’t sure how much you could—or should—tell them. But one thing was certain: you needed to pull yourself together. Time was ticking, and the last thing you could afford was to let it all spiral out of control.

_

Auston Matthews awoke with nothing but a grin on his face. The kind of grin that wasn’t about a win or a goal, but about the sheer satisfaction of knowing he’d set the board perfectly for the game ahead. Sunlight filtered through his bedroom window, casting warm, golden rays across the room. Felix, his Australien Bernedoodle, was already wagging his tail eagerly, sensing that his human was in a particularly good mood.

“Alright, Snuff” Auston muttered, stretching as he reached for the dog’s leash. “Let’s go.”

The grin stayed fixed on his face as he walked Felix through the quiet morning streets of Toronto, hidden just slightly under the brim of his cap. The rhythm of his steps matched the upbeat hum in his chest. Felix trotted ahead, pausing every so often to sniff a tree or a fire hydrant. Auston’s thoughts, however, were far from their usual pre-game routine.

You’d said yes. The moment replayed in his mind, not because he doubted it had happened, but because of the satisfying sense of control it gave him. You had agreed to his plan. Fake dating. It was genius, really. It ticked every box: no questions about his personal life, no endless media speculation about who he was seeing, and the cherry on top—it made him unavailable. Off the market. And if anything, it made him even more unattainable.

Felix barked once, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Alright, alright,” Auston chuckled, tugging the leash gently to keep his dog moving. “Don’t get too excited.”

Back at home, Felix flopped onto his dog bed with a satisfied huff while Auston grabbed his duffel bag and packed for the day. The grin still hadn’t faded. Tonight was a game night, and he had an away trip to Columbus. Normally, his thoughts would already be on the ice, visualising plays, but today his mind kept drifting back to you and the whirlwind of events from the past few days.

Auston wasn’t an idiot. He knew how the media worked. They’d dissect every glance, every move, every word exchanged between the two of you. That was the world he lived in—a world of scrutiny, where even his most mundane actions were twisted into headlines. And yet, for once, he didn’t mind. You weren’t like the others who had flitted through his orbit.

Most women in this position would’ve jumped at the chance to bask in the glow of his fame. But you? You seemed determined to avoid it entirely, almost as if the spotlight burned too bright for your liking. That was refreshing. It intrigued him. And maybe—just maybe—it was part of why this plan felt so right.

He paused mid-pack, considering for a moment if he should bring his PR manager into the loop. Ultimately, he decided against it. The man hadn’t even batted an eye at the first photo. For someone like Auston, these kinds of headlines were par for the course. A fake relationship wouldn’t even register as a blip on his radar. And besides, Auston didn’t want anyone meddling. This was his game, and he intended to play it his way.

His teammates? They didn’t need to know. Not yet, anyway. They’d complicate things with relentless teasing, and Auston wasn’t in the mood to deal with Mitch Marner’s inevitable barrage of questions. And his family? Absolutely not. All they needed to know was that he wasn’t available. End of story.

The airport was bustling with the usual pre-travel chaos. Players joked and jostled each other, tossing bags into overhead bins and making playful bets about who would score the first goal of the night. Auston moved through the commotion with his usual calm, but the grin remained—a subtle, smug reminder to himself that he had everything under control.

“Yo, Tony!” Mitch’s voice rang out as he flopped into the seat beside Auston. “What’s with the face? You win the lottery or something?”

Auston smirked, adjusting his noise-cancelling headphones. “Something like that.”

Mitch squinted at him suspiciously. “This have anything to do with the latest post? You know, the one that’s got X losing its mind?”

“Don’t start, Marner,” Auston replied, his voice even but amused.

“Oh, I’m starting,” Mitch said, leaning closer with a conspiratorial grin. “Come on, man. Spill. Who is she? I mean we know what she works with, but… She’s not another one of those random girls you keep fucking, is she?”

Auston sighed, pulling one side of his headphones down. “She’s just someone I’m getting to know. Relax.”

“Someone you’re getting to know?” Mitch echoed, his grin widening. “That’s all we get? Not even a compliment about her ass?”

“Drop it,” Auston said, though his tone lacked any real bite.

Across the aisle, William piped up. “If she’s just someone you’re getting to know, why’s she all over your social media? You’re usually better at keeping things under wraps.”

Auston shrugged, playing it cool. “She’s not all over my social media. That’s the media doing what they do.”

But Mitch wasn’t about to let it go. “You don’t talk about the other girls, but you’re dodging questions about her? That’s new.”

Auston shot him a look. “Maybe because it’s none of your business, Mitchy.”

The banter continued as the plane took off, Mitch throwing playful jabs from across the aisle and William chiming in with his usual teasing smirk. Auston brushed it off with ease, keeping his replies curt and nonchalant. But their questions lingered in his mind, nagging at the edges of his thoughts like a loose thread.

If his teammates were already this curious, what would happen when the media started digging deeper? And they would dig deeper. It wasn’t a matter of if but when. They’d dissect every detail, every inconsistency, every crack in the story. That’s when it hit him—he didn’t know enough about you. Not the kind of things that would make a fabricated relationship believable, at least.

Your favourite coffee order. Your go-to excuse for leaving a party early. The kind of music you liked to blast when no one else was around.

He needed to know something—anything—that could make this story feel authentic. His teammates might have been satisfied with the vague details he’d given them for now, but they nor the media wouldn’t let it slide. This had to look real. And for it to look real, he had to be able to talk about you like he’d known you for longer than a fleeting gala moment.

Auston leaned back in his seat, letting out a small breath. The team’s chatter faded into the background as he turned his focus inward. He’d have to talk to you, but it couldn’t feel forced. It had to be casual, natural. Just enough to set things straight and make sure the narrative stayed intact.

Satisfied with the plan forming in his mind, Auston allowed himself to relax, the familiar hum of the plane’s engines lulling him into a moment of calm. He adjusted his noise-cancelling headphones and gazed out the window as the city faded into the distance. The grin he’d worn all morning crept back onto his face, a mixture of confidence and anticipation.

This was going to work. It had to.

You might not realise it yet, but Auston Matthews had chosen you for a reason. You weren’t just a pawn in his game. You were the perfect partner in crime for the plan he was about to execute.

_

As you walked into the office, you held your chin high, shoulders back, just like Jess always encouraged during your frantic late-night phone calls. Her voice still echoed in your head: “Own it. Whatever you do, don’t let them see you sweat.” Easier said than done.

Your heels clicked against the polished floor with a rhythm that you hoped exuded confidence. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of the charade pressing against your chest. The office buzzed with its usual energy—keyboards clacking, phones ringing, snippets of conversations floating through the air. But today, the atmosphere seemed to hum with something sharper, something just shy of gossip. Again, you didn’t have to hear the whispers to know they were about you.

You felt their eyes on you as you passed, a few heads turning slightly as you walked by. It was subtle—an extra glance, a barely concealed smirk, a phone quickly tucked away as if you’d interrupted someone mid-scroll through the latest viral photos. You’d expected this, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Your phone vibrated in your bag, but you ignored it. No doubt Jess or Maya was checking in to remind you of your coffee date later. Or worse, your boss with a sharp-edged “we need to talk.” Neither option felt appealing.

By the time you reached your desk, the tension in your chest had settled into a dull ache. You sat down, carefully placing your bag at your feet, and took a steadying breath. The screen of your laptop glowed to life as you opened it, the familiar sight of your inbox providing a small sense of normalcy.

But even as you sifted through emails, your thoughts kept circling back to the lie you were living. You felt bad for keeping Jess and Maya in the dark. They were your best friends, your ride-or-die crew, the people who’d been there for you through every triumph and heartbreak. But you couldn’t risk telling them the truth.

What would happen if anyone found out? The question lingered in your mind like a persistent shadow. Even the smallest crack in the story you and Auston would be concocting could lead to an avalanche. If word got back to your boss that this wasn’t just an accidental photo op but a deliberate ruse? You didn’t even want to imagine the fallout.

So, you kept your cards close to your chest, smiling politely when a co-worker passed by, nodding along to the faint hum of office chatter. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Jess and Maya—it was that you didn't want to burden them with this. The stakes were too high. Or maybe, just maybe, you felt a bit embarrassed about having agreed to it? 

For now, your best move was to stick to the plan: keep your head down, stay professional, and pray the whirlwind around you would eventually settle.

But as the day stretched on and the whispers persisted, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a tightrope with no safety net.

During the workday, you did your best to stay under the radar, skirting through the office with a practiced air of nonchalance. Your strategy was simple: avoid your boss at all costs. Fortunately, his schedule was jam-packed with back-to-back meetings, giving you a much-needed buffer.

Still, you weren’t entirely off the hook. You’d barely rounded the corner when he appeared, laptop in hand, his expression sharp and unreadable.

“Y/N,” he called out, his tone clipped.

Your stomach flipped, but you kept your face neutral. “Good day, Mr. Manion.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Yes, well. Care to explain why half the office is suddenly fixated on some hockey romance conspiracy theories? Or why your face seems to be at the centre of it, again?”

You swallowed hard, scrambling for a response that sounded calm and collected. “Just media being media,” you said lightly, forcing a small shrug. “They’re spinning something out of nothing. It’ll die down soon enough.”

Manion stared at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to dissect the truth. “It better. We’ll discuss this later. My office, tomorrow morning. Or… when I have time for this mess.”

Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you with the sinking feeling that you’d just delayed the inevitable.

The rest of the day dragged on in a blur of emails and half-hearted attempts at productivity. No matter how much you tried to focus, the looming conversation with your boss weighed heavily on your mind.

By the time the clock struck five, you were almost relieved to escape the office and head to the coffee shop where Jess and Maya were waiting.

The café was warm and bustling, the scent of freshly brewed espresso mingling with the faint sweetness of baked goods. Jess and Maya were already seated in the corner, their expressions a mix of curiosity and impatience as they spotted you walking in.

“Well, well,” Maya teased, her grin widening as you slid into the chair opposite her. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

Jess smirked, crossing her arms. “Let’s skip the pleasantries, Y/N. Spill. Now.”

You sighed, wrapping your hands around the mug the barista had just placed in front of you. “Please, calm down. It’s not as exciting as you think. I promise.”

“Bullshit,” Jess said bluntly. “You’re trending. You don’t just get to brush this off.”

Maya leaned in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Come on. We’re your best friends. If you can’t tell us, who can you tell?”

There it was—the guilt. It crept into your chest like a cold weight, but you couldn’t let it show. You had to stick to the story.

“We met at the gala,” you began, keeping your voice as casual as possible. “He was… well, exactly how you’d expect. Arrogant, cocky, a total smartass.”

Jess arched a brow. “So, what? He just walked up to you and swept you off your feet?”

You hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Not exactly. I sort of… tripped, and he caught me. It was all very cliché.”

Maya gasped, her hands flying to her chest. “Like something out of a movie! I knew it!”

“It wasn’t like that,” you said quickly, laughing nervously. “He was just being polite. Honestly, I thought he’d forget about me the second I walked away.”

Jess tilted her head, her gaze sharp. “But he didn’t.”

You shook your head, taking a sip of your coffee to buy yourself a moment. “No, he didn’t. He’s been… persistent. But it’s not what you’re thinking. He’s not really my type.”

Maya’s jaw dropped. “Not your type? Are you serious? He’s Auston Matthews. Literal perfection.”

“Perfection isn’t exactly charming when it comes with an ego the size of the CN Tower,” you shot back, earning a laugh from Jess.

“Fair,” she said, smirking. “But don’t pretend you’re immune. Something about him must’ve worked if he’s got you responding.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just the media doing what it does best—blowing things out of proportion.”

Maya studied you for a moment, her expression softening. “You’re really into him, aren’t you?”

You nearly choked on your coffee. “What? No. Absolutely not.”

Jess leaned forward, her grin devilish. “You’re blushing.”

“I am not,” you protested, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

The conversation continued, a whirlwind of teasing and speculation, but you managed to hold your ground, weaving just enough truth into your story to keep them from digging deeper. By the time you left the café, your nerves were frayed, but at least you’d survived the first round of questions.

As you stepped into the cool night air, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that this was only the beginning.

_

The training rink in Columbus carried the usual buzz of pre-game preparation: the slap of pucks against the boards, the hum of skates carving into the ice, and the low murmur of coaches directing drills. But something about the energy felt off. Auston could sense it in the way passes missed by inches and shots rang off the crossbar instead of finding the back of the net.

The Leafs were coming off a high, but the weight of expectations clung to the team like an anchor. By the time practice wrapped up, the locker room was filled with subdued chatter, players trying to shake off the tension as they prepared for the night’s game.

Auston, ever the focal point, felt the weight more than most. Captaincy wasn’t just about leading on the ice—it was about carrying the team’s hopes and shielding them from criticism when things went sideways. And tonight, things went very sideways.

The game was a mess from start to finish. Columbus exploited every crack in the Leafs’ defence, while Toronto’s offense sputtered, unable to capitalise on power plays or momentum. Auston had his moments—a slick assist here, a near-miss there—but it wasn’t enough. By the time the final buzzer sounded, the scoreboard told the story: a 4-1 loss.

Auston’s jaw tightened as he skated off the ice, his grip on his stick like a vice. The locker room was eerily quiet post-game, the usual camaraderie replaced with a heavy silence. Players peeled off their gear in near silence, a few murmuring frustrations under their breath. Auston exchanged a few words with the coaches, but the sting of defeat lingered long after he left the rink.

Back at the hotel, the air in Auston’s room felt heavy—thick with the weight of the night’s loss and the expectations that always seemed to grow louder in defeat. He sat on the edge of the bed, his duffel bag still untouched by the door, scrolling aimlessly through his phone.

Down the hall, his teammates were decompressing in their own ways—some glued to their gaming consoles, others nursing quiet drinks in the lounge—but none of those options appealed to him. Auston’s frustration needed a different outlet.

Without much thought, he opened his DMs, the endless flood of messages a familiar distraction. His name was a magnet, his inbox teeming with invitations, compliments, and the occasional overly bold proposition. One message caught his eye—a familiar face from Columbus. They’d met on a previous trip, a fleeting encounter that left no lasting impression, which was exactly what he needed now.

Auston: “In town for the night. What’s up?”

Her: “Still waiting for you to call. Thought you forgot about me ;)”

Auston: “Never.”

The exchange was simple, transactional, and within the hour, she was knocking on his door.

Auston opened it, leaning casually against the frame. His expression was unreadable, save for the faint smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. She smiled up at him, dressed to impress—or undress. As always, no pleasantries were exchanged; none were necessary. She stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind her, sealing off the outside world.

It was exactly what Auston needed—a reprieve from the relentless noise in his head. She was eager, uncomplicated, and predictable, offering a distraction that required nothing from him emotionally. He let himself sink into the physicality of it, her hands trailing across his chest as she whispered something flirtatious. But her words barely registered. His thoughts were elsewhere.

They were on the ice, replaying the game in relentless detail: the missed chances, the failed plays, the sting of another loss. They drifted to the media frenzy surrounding his so-called “Mystery Queen” and the elaborate charade he was now orchestrating with you. No matter how much he tried to focus on the present, the weight of everything he was juggling refused to let go.

Still, he allowed her to take the lead, lying back as she straddled him with practiced confidence. The friction, the heat, the rhythm—it was enough to stoke his hardening member. She felt good, but it was a fleeting, surface-level pleasure. The connection was purely physical, and Auston was fine with that.

Her fingers dug into his chest, as she rode him expertly. Auston felt his climax slowly building, her tight cunt wrapped so neatly around his throbbing cock. He didn’t need more than this. Shutting his eyes he could imagine her to be anyone he’d like. His mind wandered as he heard himself let out a moan. She was good to him, picking up her pace as she too chased her own high. 

Her moans filled the room, crescendoing as she announced her climax with exaggerated fervour. Auston stayed silent, his body tense beneath her, waiting for the moment to pass. And when she slumped forward, her chest rising and falling against his, he decided to take control in order to reach the rush. 

Flipping her onto her back, he moved with renewed intensity, chasing his own release. His hips slammed against hers in a steady, unrelenting rhythm. His fingers clenched the sheets as he gave up holding back. He was merciless. Ruthless. Her cries of his name echoed in his ears, a mantra that boosted his ego but did little to penetrate the hollow space inside him.

And when his climax finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing through him with a force that left him momentarily breathless. His low, guttural grunt filled the air as he spilled into the condom, his movements slowing until they finally stopped.

For a moment, the room was quiet, save for their heavy breathing. She brushed her fingers through his hair, her touch lingering as though she hoped it might spark something deeper. But Auston rolled away, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. The message was clear, though unspoken.

So, within minutes, she was dressed, smoothing her hair and offering a coy smile as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “See you around,” she said lightly, though they both knew she wouldn’t.

“Yeah,” Auston replied, his tone indifferent as he closed the door behind her. The lock clicked, and just like that, she was gone.

He sank back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as the hollow feeling settled in—a familiar, unwelcome companion. The release had been satisfying enough, but it hadn’t erased the gnawing frustration or the pressure weighing on his shoulders. It never did.

His phone buzzed again, and he glanced at the screen. Notifications flooded in: highlights from the game, speculative articles dissecting the team’s loss, and the ever-present hashtag: #MysteryQueen.

A small, wry smirk tugged at his lips despite himself. The plan was working, and that was something. For all the chaos, for all the noise, the narrative was moving exactly as he’d intended. Now all he had to do was keep it that way.

He set his phone back on the nightstand and let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. Tomorrow, he’d regroup. Tomorrow, he’d strategise with you, fine-tune the story you were selling. For tonight, survival was enough.

As exhaustion finally crept in, Auston closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting to you once more. You weren’t like the others—too smart, too grounded to fall for someone like him. That was part of the appeal, he realised. You weren’t here for him, not really. And maybe that made you the most intriguing person he’d met in a long time.

But that was a problem for another day. Tonight, all that mattered was that the noise had faded, if only for a moment.

_

“Oh, Toronto, isn’t it fascinating how our beloved Ice King chooses to thaw? While the Leafs are licking their wounds after a tough night in Columbus, it seems Auston Matthews is sticking to his tried-and-true method of post-game ‘recovery.’ Word on the street—or rather, whispers through the grapevine—suggests that our captain might not be as unavailable as the Mystery Queen narrative wants us to believe. Curious, isn’t it?

But here’s the thing, dear readers—there’s always more beneath the surface. Matthews might play the media like a maestro, but even the best orchestrations can hit a sour note. Will the cracks start to show? Or will our Ice King’s dual life—both on and off the rink—continue to skate by unscathed?

As for his Mystery Queen? One has to wonder how she fits into this symphony of appearances. Is she just another carefully placed pawn in Auston’s game, or is there something more stirring beneath the headlines?

For now, Toronto, we’re left with a tantalising mix of speculation and intrigue. The season is still young, and the drama is only just beginning. - The Benchwarmer”

_

Wednesday - 

Auston tried to enjoy the breakfast with his teammates. A hotel was a part of their routines, yet it never truly felt like home. His phone buzzed relentlessly with notifications, but one headline in particular caught his eye: “The Ice King’s Double Life? Drama Heats Up Around Toronto’s Star Captain and His #MysteryQueen.”

Auston clicked the link and was greeted by The Benchwarmer’s latest post. The commentary was sharp, hinting at cracks in his narrative and questioning whether the supposed romance with you was genuine—or just another fleeting distraction. The subtext was clear: his actions in Columbus hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He let out a groan, running a hand down his face. Reckless, Matthews. Really reckless. Sure, the plan with you was still in its infancy, but if this was going to work, it needed direction—intent. Otherwise, it would just look like every other shallow story he’d been a part of.

He needed to fix this. Fast.

Grabbing his phone, Auston scrolled to your contact—“PR Genius”—and fired off a quick text.

Auston: “Coffee today? We need to strategize.”

You: “Agreed. When and where?”

Auston: “3 PM. A café on Yonge. I’ll message the address later. Bring your game face.”

As the message was sent, Auston stared at the screen for a moment longer. This wasn’t just about keeping the media at bay—it was about keeping you on his side. If this plan unravelled, it would take both of you down with it.

_

A bit further North, your morning was no less chaotic than Auston’s. Jess, ever the early riser, was already on fire by the time your phone buzzed with the first notification.

Jess (7:15 AM): “HOW DARE HE???”

Maya (7:16 AM): “Is he seriously doing this to you? I’m ready to slash some tires.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, even as you groaned at their intensity. To them, it was a betrayal of epic proportions. To you, it was just another complication in the tangled web of your arrangement with Auston. But how could they know that? All they saw was a man seemingly toying with your feelings, and as your best friends, they were ready to go to war on your behalf.

You (7:18 AM): “Guys, relax. It’s not like we’re official or anything.”

Maya (7:19 AM): “Not official?! You’re trending as #MysteryQueen, Y/N! That’s practically a royal engagement!”

Jess (7:20 AM): “I swear, if he breaks your heart… bad things will happen!”

You chuckled despite yourself, shaking your head at their over-the-top reactions. It was sweet how protective they were, but you couldn’t let them spiral into full-blown outrage.

You (7:22 AM): “Look, it’s still early. He can do whatever he wants—we haven’t even been on a real date yet.”

The group chat fell silent for a moment, long enough for you to think maybe they’d finally let it go. But Jess’s response proved otherwise.

Jess (7:30 AM): “Fine. But he better get his shit together, or I’m hunting him down.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, setting your phone down as you leaned back in your chair with a sigh. Jess and Maya were reacting the way anyone would if they thought their friend was being strung along. You couldn’t exactly blame them for jumping to conclusions—it wasn’t like they knew the truth.

Still, it left you with a heavy feeling you couldn’t quite shake. Sure, you weren’t dating Auston—not really. But even you couldn’t ignore how bad it looked. His actions might not have stung personally, but they made everything feel messier, more complicated. You were suddenly questioning whether this whole arrangement was as foolproof as he’d made it seem.

You stared into your half-empty coffee mug, the quiet of your kitchen contrasting sharply with the chaos in your head. By now, the plan you and Auston had agreed on felt more like a house of cards, ready to collapse at the slightest push.

The afternoon coffee with him couldn’t come soon enough. If this ridiculous plan was going to work, you needed to lay everything out on the table and get on the same page—and fast.

_

The coffee shop was bathed in the golden light of late afternoon when you arrived, your workday still clinging to you in the form of a slight tension in your shoulders. You pushed open the door, letting the comforting aroma of roasted beans and the soft murmur of conversation wash over you. The café was the perfect midpoint between your home and Auston’s—a cosy, unassuming spot where you could blend in without drawing too much attention.

You spotted him immediately, leaning casually against the counter, waiting for his order. He was dressed in dark jeans and a simple hoodie, a baseball cap pulled low over his face. Felix, his ever-loyal best friend, sat patiently by his side, drawing a few admiring glances from other patrons. Auston, as always, looked like he belonged anywhere and nowhere at once, exuding an ease that made people take notice without realising they were doing so.

Auston caught sight of you as the barista handed him his drink. He gave you a quick nod, that trademark smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Hey,” he greeted as you approached. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” you replied, offering a small smile as you ordered your coffee.

As Auston watched you at the counter, his gaze lingered longer than he’d intended. You were dressed in your workday attire—professional yet effortless, like you hadn’t spent a second longer than necessary pulling yourself together. But it was the way you carried yourself that intrigued him. Even with the slight tension in your shoulders, there was a quiet determination in your movements, a resilience that he couldn’t help but notice.

Once you had your drinks, you stepped outside, where Felix immediately perked up, tail wagging enthusiastically. “He’s got more energy than I do,” you said, watching the dog sniff at a nearby patch of grass.

“Good thing he burns it off fast,” Auston replied, handing you Felix’s leash with an easy confidence that caught you off guard. “Here, you take him for a bit.”

“Me?” You stared at the leash, then at Felix, who was now looking at you with expectant eyes.

“Yeah, you,” Auston said, his grin widening. “It’s not that hard. Just don’t let him drag you into traffic.”

You rolled your eyes but took the leash, letting Felix lead the way as the three of you started down the quiet street. Auston glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, amused by the way you held the leash like it might bite you. Despite your initial awkwardness, he had a feeling Felix would win you over in no time.

“You’re stiff,” Auston said after a few moments, his tone casual but observant. “Relax. It’s just a walk.”

“It’s not just a walk,” you muttered, glancing around. “There are probably a dozen people ready to take a picture right now.”

“And what if there are?” He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

You huffed but didn’t argue. He wasn’t wrong. Still, the weight of being “seen” felt heavier than you’d anticipated.

“You’re overthinking it,” Auston said after a moment. “We’re just two people, walking a dog. Act like it.”

“I’m trying,” you shot back, but the edge in your voice made him smirk.

“Try harder,” he teased.

As Felix tugged you toward a nearby lamppost, Auston found himself studying you again. You didn’t fit the mold of the people who usually surrounded him. There was no pretense, no calculated charm. You were genuine—maybe to a fault, given how uncomfortable you seemed in the spotlight. He found it oddly refreshing.

“He’s really into this whole sniffing thing,” you said, changing the subject as Felix investigated another patch of grass.

“He’s thorough,” Auston said with a chuckle. “Doesn’t miss a single blade of grass.”

The light banter helped ease the awkwardness, and soon, the conversation shifted to more neutral topics. He asked about your day, and to his surprise, you opened up with a candid rundown of your work. You asked him about his travel schedule and the demands of his career, your questions more thoughtful than the usual superficial ones he was used to. And for the first time in a while, he felt like someone was genuinely interested in him, not the player or the famous persona.

“You’re used to it, though, right?” you asked. “The attention?”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone almost dismissive. “It comes with the job. You get good at tuning it out.”

“Must be nice,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

He caught it anyway. “You’ll get there,” he said simply.

You raised an eyebrow. “You sound awfully confident.”

He smirked. “Someone has to be.”

The conversation gradually turned more personal as you walked, Felix weaving between the two of you. Auston told you about growing up in Scottsdale, his early days in hockey, and how he adjusted to life in Toronto. In return, you shared snippets of your own life—your family, your job, your goals.

Yet, as you spoke, Auston couldn’t help but notice how you deflected any kind of praise. If he complimented your work ethic, you’d shrug it off. If he mentioned your ambition, you’d redirect the conversation. It was clear you weren’t comfortable taking credit for your own strengths, and that baffled him. In his world, confidence was currency, and yours seemed to be in short supply.

By the time you circled back toward the coffee shop, the awkwardness from earlier had all but evaporated. Felix was panting happily, his energy finally burned off, and you felt a little lighter too.

As you handed the leash back to Auston, he gave you a considering look. “You should come to the game tomorrow.”

“The home game?” you asked, caught off guard.

“Yeah,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re supposed to be my…” He trailed off, his smirk turning playful. “It’ll look good. You know, for the act.”

You hesitated, unsure, but he pressed on. “Come on. VIP seats, good company. What’s there to think about?”

You rolled your eyes but found yourself nodding. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

“Good,” he said, pulling Felix closer as he grinned down at you. “And don’t forget your game face.”

As he walked away, Auston couldn’t help but glance back, his thoughts lingering on you longer than he expected. For all your insecurities, there was something undeniably compelling about you. This arrangement might have started as a strategy, but he was beginning to wonder if it could be something else too.

_

“Oh, Toronto. What a tangled web our Ice King is weaving. One moment he’s dominating the ice (or, well, trying to), and the next, he’s walking through the city with his Mystery Queen by his side—dog in tow, coffee in hand, and cameras lurking around every corner.

It’s a scene straight out of a romance novel: casual smiles, shared laughs, and the kind of chemistry that can’t be ignored (even if it’s staged, we see you, Matthews). Yet, there’s something undeniably intriguing about this pairing. She’s poised, seemingly unbothered by the chaos surrounding him, and he? Well, let’s just say he doesn’t seem to mind the added spotlight when she’s in the frame.

But don’t get too comfortable, dear readers. There are cracks in every façade, and this one is no exception. The whispers in the hockey world are growing louder, and if there’s one thing we know, it’s that the truth has a funny way of coming to light—especially when the stakes are this high.

So, what’s the endgame here? Is this truly a strategic pairing, or are we witnessing the beginning of something that neither of them saw coming? Whatever the answer, you can bet your last sip of Tim’s coffee that I’ll be here to spill the tea.

Until next time, Toronto. Keep your eyes on the ice—and the streets. The season is young, and this story is just getting started.

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer”

[kcokaine]

Why do people on Twitter say you're a zionist?

Okay so this is the last time im going to adress this. Its not true and a baseless lie made by people that have some personal vendetta against me. Im a supporter of Palestine’s people, I have donation channel for it on my discord server and im currently working on a donation stream that I will initiate once I have the privacy of my house to be alone.

I adressed this allegation before but people never care about your side of the story or your side of the story isnt enough. Thats how allegations on twitter work, people want to point fingers and not actually help people in need. There is no point of me defend myself about this because people will not care and frankly i know who i am and what i believe, i dont need strangers on the internet that want to just hate someone to believe me. They dont want to think further or do a research on the actual facts they want to hate and feel better about themselves.

[embalmedrose]

Compilation of tips i learned during years of managing treatment-resistant bpd

1.) challenge your thoughts productively not critically; beating yourself up for the sake of "doing better" is in fact not going to help you do better

2.) accept yourself for where youre at. Dont deny the unpalatable sides of your behaviors, when you accept them wholeheartedly they very quickly calm down. Acceptance is not inherently synonymous with condoning

3.) Dont begrudge yourself. Right now social media internet culture makes it normalized that you cant have mistakes, or else youre irredeemable. this leads to people knocking others down to compensate for the fact they might mess up themself, and to be honest imo this is mostly kids and teenagers. i promise you there is no mentally ill child or teenager on earth that will ever be comparable to people knowingly abusing real authority & power in the real world

4.) dont begrudge others. You dont have to like people, but holding long-term grudges especially once they're out of your life will hold you down. Its ok to be angry, it is ok to mourn past or current relationships with people. Though when youre ready, attempt to reflect productively in a way that doesnt include "all good" or "all bad" statements. (black n white thinking)

5.) nuance; allow yourself to think in shades of gray. Do not confine yourself to one point of view. Regardless of if you like a situation/person/event/etc, having productive cognitive empathy is a really good thing for understanding the relationships and interactions in your life. For example, give yourself & others 'credit' by putting yourself in their shoes. This helps break down "this is unfair" confusion and abuse cycles that come with it. Often, in unfair situations, knowing my Real Point and the other persons' Real Point helps me manage those interactions or relationships. (99.999999% of fights Often the 'point' of convos get missed and people will spiral into nitpicking minute details unrelated or vaguely related at best)

6.) boundaries are about what you can do for yourself, not how you can influence other people's actions. You really cannot control other people, so dont rely on others to have the 100% foolproof response all the time to things that really matter to you. Its ok to walk out of friendships if they dont work, its ok to walk out if someone is not respecting boundaries you set, and boundaries dont always have to exclusively be and stop at "can u not do xyz" because ultimately you cant control others ever. Do what works for you

7.) its ok for people to drift, and its ok for people to come and go

8.) my fav advice; maybe it aint that deep just walk away. not worth it. no need to defend myself, gooodbyeeee strangers on internet who do not really care about niche social issues that they pretend to care and preach about amen

[starflungwaddledee]

alright. look, we're going to go into this because i genuinely want to think you didn't mean harm by this, but it's unacceptable to use this sort of manipulative phrasing. especially with strangers, some of whom are kids.

this is not a call-out. i've hidden all names except my own. i just need to address this post i was tagged in, and don't want to add it onto the end of the original post. i could also have done this privately, but i want this to be here for the other folks who were @'d. i won't @ anyone else who was mentioned in this post, but many of us are mutuals, so if you see this post and you're feeling at all stressed out or bad, i recommend just clicking through because i'm going to go into this.

firstly, and i'm going to make this transparent, person who @'d me: i don't think you're being malicious or did anything purposefully bad. i don't think you intended harm or that you are "a bad person". i don't have a single negative thought about you as a person. i don't make this post to be mean. i truly think you made an earnest mistake that could easily have hurt others, and i am stepping in with the hope this can be avoided in the future! per my usual boundaries on reassurance seeking, i will not reassure about this further.

secondly, the post that you tacked this onto IS important and a helpful resource, and it is great to bring attention to it. we should be doing everything we can to not only defend against, but actively fight back against generative AI. many people cannot access the most commonly recommended tools (myself included), so a resource like this is fantastic and i'm glad to learn about it and share it! i don't speak for anyone else, but i've said before that i personally don't mind being tagged in resources that could help me or others and i'm usually happy to share them, especially if i think the latter

but, assuming that you are genuinely well meaning and don't know better, you need to know that this is not the way to go about it. i don't mean mass-tagging, which is fine in times like this imo, i mean your written add-ons that actively guilt trip every single person you tagged.

"if you weren't convinced by the idea of being a good person" and "I do hope anyone I @'d isn't a bad person" in particular.

you may not have realised, but these are profoundly manipulative and cruel things to say. regardless of how you intended them, they are inciting guilt in the reader, and especially in the people who you actively called to come and look at it. here's what it sounds like:

"hey! you! yeah you! come look at this!! come closer! now, do what i ask you to do, or you're a bad person."

there are a million and one reasons someone might not reblog something. being tired, offline, anxious, even needing to run a specifically professional blog with exclusively your art on it for your own financial survival which makes it hard to reblog important posts like this; none of those are bad.

in this case, only one thing makes them a "bad person", and it's "they're pro-generative AI and did not reblog because they want to hide this information to ensure they can continue stealing from creatives".

i'm fairly confident you don't actually think anyone you tagged here has that point of view, or that you really have any doubts about their stances on generative AI. in fact, of the folks i recognise here, they're all independent creatives, sharing artwork with fandom for free on the internet. they are the victims of generative AI, and like most of us, are facing a terrifying future and are already desperate to find a way to defend/fight back.

you do not need to use manipulative language like this to get us to care about this sort of content! this affects us all, content creators and content consumers alike!

in future if you want to direct folks to something like this, which is super helpful and it was good of you to do!, you can just @ them so they see it. you can even say something like "this is important and some reblogs would sure help to boost it!". this is still a call to action, but without the manipulative phrasing, just in case they cannot act for any reason.

in the end, guilt tripping people like this, intentional or otherwise, is dangerous.

at best it will make them feel like shit and they'll feel forced to reblog + share from you out of guilt rather than just believing in the cause. and sometimes it feels like it's most effective, especially when things are urgent; but in my opinion the risk of harm is just too high. because at worst, you could accidentally send someone into a negative thinking spiral. you can never know what people are going through offline, or outside of your spaces, and how something like this will hit them.

[furiousgoldfish]

Hi, just a little reminder to everyone who has attempted to message me or talk to me, and didn't get a reply or didn't get a reply they wanted.

I often have people messaging me expecting instant friendship and emotional support and talking to me as if we already knew each other. I don't think this is done with ill intent, but I do want to gently remind everyone that we are complete strangers when interacting online, and that I cannot grant anyone instant friendship; to me you are a person I don't know. I will talk to you as a stranger would. Even if you've been reading my words and taking solace and imagining a friend telling them to you, to me you are someone I've never met or known, and I cannot function as an emotional support on a personal level to strangers. It ultimately is not helpful for you to convince yourself that a stranger on the internet is your personal friend, or to push that stranger into trying to act the part; I am unable to fulfill this role. I am not emotionally well myself, and I do not have a support system, so being put in a situation where I'm expected to be one for a stranger feels unhealthy.

Another thing I'd love for everyone to remember is, that I don't have all of the answers. I love to help where I can, but ultimately I am a person in a lot of distress, trying to deal with multiple disorders without any access to therapy or even friends who understand what I'm going thru. I am isolated and posting on this blog is often all I have. If I knew how to get rid of trauma, how to deal with disorders, how to not be sick or in pain, how to evade abuse or how to feel okay, I would use this advice to fix my own life. But I am sadly, lost like the rest of us.

There are times where I am in too much distress to talk to anyone, if you sent me a message and it went unanswered, it is very likely that I was in a state so bad I could not communicate. I will usually recover from it within several weeks, but by that time I feel bad even reminding someone they've sent me a message, it feels asinine to try and reply so late. And it reminds me of the period where I felt bad looking at the message, unable to respond. I'm not ignoring messages on purpose. If you try again some time later, you're likely to get a reply, if I'm in a good state of mind.

However, if you send me a big number of messages at once, start talking about your issues without asking if it's okay first, send several messages without a reply and then keep sending them and demanding a reply, put pressure on me to communicate with you, try to guilt me into giving you an answer you want, or assuming I'm maliciously ignoring you, you've made me uncomfortable and I have to listen to my instincts and stop talking to you.

I am sensitive to anger, aggression, ranting, swearing, slur-use, and doing that in a conversation with me it will make me feel threatened. Because we're strangers, and any stranger acting like I'm an acceptable target to take their anger at is dangerous. We are not friends, and dealing with angry strangers is terrifying. In that situation I have to do what I would advise anyone else to do - leave the conversation.

The last issue is with people attempting to trigger me on purpose, pretending they need help then defending abusers, trying to convince me that all of my resources are harmful and doing nothing but damage, or trying to get me to delete my content, change my posts, advocating for abusers, siding with my abusers, telling me I'm a monster, insisting they're victimized by me unless I personally disprove my smear campaign to them, and generally trying to get me to lash out in order to post it online to claim I should be cancelled. That is the worst thing you could be doing to a traumatized abuse victim. I am a person, of course I sometimes say something wrong and not well thought and put out. That doesn't mean anything I ever do to help others is worthless and should be erased. And you will not convince me that my blog is useless or harmful. It helps me. And I am someone too.

[sams-venting]

I need to get this off my chest before I blow up at somebody 

But I know I did not just fucking watch someone try to say a fictional incest ship is worse than several real-life people getting groomed. Are you fucking serious. You are so lucky your ass was on anon motherfucker I would've hard blocked and reported your snide ass

I don't give a shit which 'side' you're on. I don't care what you think about whatever drama of the week is going on. I know my ass, who has actively had to report CSEM photos to National Center for Missing and Exploited Children Cyber Tipline, did not just fucking watch you compare a disgusting ship, to actual teens being sexually coerced

I can't fucking believe you. We out here really prioritizing fictional characters over real breathing human beings

Get this, I am completely against pro shipping. I am just as repulsed by people looking at siblings or parents and deciding they should fuck for the silly dynamics of it as the next guy, it's fucking despicable. But I know I did not just your ass saying it's more harmful and creepy than your friend over there diddling real people almost half his age. Are you fcuking kidding me. 

And, before you start assuming shit, I again am on 'no side'. I don't give a fuck about the entire situation outside of people once again, conveniently dragging the victims of the gore anons into more bullshit. 

I am not blind to the fact none of this would've went down had a stalker not went digging for shit. No one would've known about the original doc a year ago had a suspected gore anon not stirred the pot after the callout post that got sent to the VAs. That was purposeful manipulation. No doubt about it. They wanted to pull up anything and everything on one of the few people that was trying to defend those that were getting harassed because of the big blogs. You'd have to be either really young, or really stupid to not've seen that bigger picture 

I also don't fucking trust ANYONE that makes a callout / awareness post for ANY REASON. I don't care who you are. As a quotev veteran of 7 years, someone who watched their friend get dogpiled on by big blogs 3 years ago in the Sonic fandom bc how dare a minor be uncomfortable with public porn of minor characters on tumblr, seen kids purposely catfish adults in the MHA quotev fandom so they could frame them for pedophilia any time their advances were put to a stop, the entire Revie and Jasper situation in the FNF vs Sonic.exe corner of twitter where one adult was partially framed once again by a kid that couldn't handle being told no, meanwhile the other had legit CP on their computer come to find out and was the Actual danger in the fandom 

So imagine my reaction of trying to escape to the fnafsb fandom and to tsams. Here 👏 we 👏 fucking 👏 go 👏 again. It's like everyone was born yesterday and baby spanking new to the Internet. How has No One learned the consequences of their actions. Adults included btw, just as childish if not worse than the teens that haven't learn basic internet etiquette. What the fuck is your excuse you're in your 20s, how is your media literacy This low mf. Smh 

All I can say is thank God I've decided to grow and mature as a person. And by that, coming to the conclusion that everything is ultimately ✨none of my fucking business✨ 

Bc guess what, it ain't. Just bc people airing out the dirty laundry does not mean I need to get involved and throw myself to the drama wolves. Sometimes, I don't need to have an opinion. Sometimes, if I do have an opinion, I know to keep it to myself unless I'm asked for it by my therapist or friends (and not anons guys I am begging you to not get baited by trolls please for the love of all things holy. Assume good faith in strangers, but never in anons. They use innocent questions all the time to pull a gotcha) 

Ultimately? All sides are guilty of some level of shit, end of discussion. 1) I already had beef with with the whole 'ur pd is showing' on a personal level. I will never forgive for that. In no scenario with strangers is that ever fucking okay. 2) I ain't gonna let the little fibs slide. I've seen the screenshots in the newest doc, I've compared the posts. A liar is a liar. 3) I personally don't like nor trust em. Didn't originally, definitely don't now. But again I acknowledge that's a personal decision. 4) I did not fucking like seeing people stalk the gore anon victims once again just so they can dig up scraps to support their persecution of their past abuser. 5) I am in no way denying the abuse they did infact go through. It was horrible to see, and I can only empathize with my own trauma from abusive relationships. 6) I am also however acknowledging that trying to drive them off of social media is not a realistic solution and is infact anti-recovery. So some of you are infact a hypocrite for wanting to abolish prisons and then pulling This kind of shit. Revenge is not justice. 7) if you wanna cut someone out of your life, you have to stop talking about them and 'looking out for their potential victims' or you're just going to feed the flames of drama. Be the bigger person and put down the stick if you're tired of the burn. This goes for everyone btw. 8) for the record I would not be Nearly as on the fence as I am rn if it weren't for [redacted] having learned this behavior from also being a victim of somebody else. It is incredibly common for those that have been groomed and/or abused in the past to then continue to seek out those same types of relationships. Especially if they never learned the why or how said relationships were fucked up in the first place. 

9) it is no one's place to decide if other people are allowed to give someone a second or third chance to be a better person. Idgaf if they're a victim or not. You do not have the right to dictate who talks to who. That is red flag toxic yaoi shit my dear friend. I, do not agree with a few of my mutuals chosing to befriend or forgive them. But I also know it is not my fucking place to tell them to do different. It is not my place to control who is with who for whatever reason. I don't like it, I don't agree with it, but I ain't gonna start shit talking left and right, throwing my opinions all about, and force them to do as I do. 

This is where the maturity clarity thing comes in btw. I don't like it. I have a bad feeling about it. I don't agree with these decisions my mutuals have made. But you know what? ✨It's none of my fucking business✨ and I mean it. That means, after I'm done venting here I'm dropping the topic. That means, just bc I don't like them that I'm gonna start bad mouthing to my mutuals about their friend. You don't go to your bestie and shit talk about their boyfriend right to them, that's messed up af. And this is no different 

Also, sidenote, fuck all y'all for using stranger's posts on the internet to drag someone else's name through the mud and reposting them to a doc without consent. Which Did happen to me with the big blogs vs confessions btw. I am still, very much not okay about that and I can't believe that's happening to other ppl too but for a different call-out. 

but fucking, trying to compare a fictional ship and saying it's worse than people who got groomed?

You are on razor thin fucking ice. Pull your head out of your ass, shut up, and sit the hell down before you spout any more stupid shit for the love of God. That about pisses me off more than anything right now I'm so livid. And I've been silently seething with rage since August so that's not to be taken lightly

----

[P.S. thank you to mod for being a place ppl can go to, idk what I would've done since I don't have therapy till next week. Sorry if I don't make any sense whatsoever btw, I am tired, it is 1 am, and my bpd ass is extremely emotional rn with no viable outlet except here. I am aware that reality is not what it seems past midnight as I am prone to delusion, so I'm genuinely not allowed to *talk* talk to ppl this late at night for everyone's well being, including myself. So again: thank you. Hope you're doing well, in spite of everything going on. Drinking water, petting cats, monching bread, etc, and letting the small things in life into your heart to spread wonder. Have a good night]

.

[joeywheelermyman]

Sixth Prison Text

It feels appropriate that my 6th text is posted 6 months after I said I would start posting regularly. Again, I apologize to my followers who are interested in this, if anyone is even left anymore. I started this "blogging journey" two years ago and I've not yet even made a dent in my papers. I really need to crack down on this, and it's not like I don't want to post, I enjoy sharing this with internet strangers for some reason. Anyways, as I was flipping through my texts, coincidentally, the next one befitting the chronology is one that made me think I must have the ability to see the future. Because what I wrote is fairly accurate to what happened in 2022. This doesn't mean that it's 100% accurate, of course. And I do get worked up and say some things I don't think I meant, but I certainly felt that way. (For more info, you'll just have to stay along for the ride) I don't even want to address this. No idea how to start it, as usual. I have this scary, secluding thought that I'm going to be alone when I get out. Like Rydina and Nathaniel will be gone. I'll re-visit all my old spots by myself because everyone is gone or different. I'll make new friends or go back to old ones and I'll be happy that I'm not alone anymore. But every time we're driving down [main street in my town], my brain will remind me that they're not you guys. I'll fall in love with a girl who falls for the confident way I hold myself, the sheer passions I have for simple things, the loud way I can fearlessly express my emotions in a store. But I'll never let her see the damage I carry because half a year after falling in love, I'll realize I fell for how she makes me feel. A common mistake. I'll forget the pain of prison and become enraged I have to spend my 20's on probation. I'll never reveal how I want to skip town and live as a nameless vagrant, traveling across America. I'll never tell my friends what really goes on in my head. Everyone will be dumbfounded when I disappear one February morning. I want to hate you guys, some days. For no rational reason. Because of jealousy. For simply living your fucking lives to be the best you can. Because I love my friends, I've never been more passionate of anything than friendship. I don't hate any of you, I can assure that. I want to be hateful and spit venom because it's easier than letting my heart get shredded by knowing my best friends', the people I love more than family, can continue life happily and unaffected by my absence. But, I've never been one to be angry when I'm hurt. I run away when I get hurt. I hide because it hurts others less than if I got angry and said terrible things I didn't mean. It must be that I'm only ever bitching in my letters. I'm sorry for that Rydina. It feels like, emotionally, you're all I have to turn to. You're the only person I think of talking to when I feel anything. I feel physically sick, recently, every time I've tried writing you. I don't know what's been going on with me. Half of me wants to call you again but the other half fucking screams not to and I don't even know why. I think about you even more now, it feels. I worry about you constantly. I worry because Martin is crazy, because winter is coming and you'll get bored, because Nathaniel and [Nathaniel's girlfriend] are leaving and you'll be alone, because maybe you aren't drinking enough water, because someone might hit your car and you'd get hurt. As of recently, every time I start to worry about you, I grab my Mjolnir pendant, like a prayer for Thor to defend you and for Tyr to give you strength.

This isn't the letter I planned on writing but honestly, I didn't even expect to get this done. I've tried writing this letter nine separate times and I don't even know what to say. [It's true, I still have all the other drafts.] Most always, when I don't know what to say, I have a general idea and I end up figuring it out as I go. But with these, I couldn't figure it out because I don't know what the hell I wanted to say. The best idea I had is broad: I wanted to tell you how I feel. But I don't understand that either.

Something's going on with me, I don't know. I think I've been having a depressive episode.

[felixir]

I just blocked a new "follower" who I believe was spying on my content, because I quickly found out that they are in cahoots with a particular user who I believe to be a dangerous person to interact with, especially if you are Jewish, Israeli, or support Israel throughout this horrific conflict they are enduring.

If you are a Free Pal STAY, please do not interact with me. Do not follow me. It's as simple as that. No one on STAYblr needs to know what I'm up to or see what I post concerning the war.

It is bad enough that some users felt the need to go out of their way and "expose" me and make false claims about me in the fandom. It is getting dangerously close to the point where I no longer feel safe interacting with other STAY for this very reason. I don't know who I am safe with, and so I limit my interactions. I am wary of even posting or interacting within communities I have been added to recently.

What does it say about the kind of person you are, or the kind of people you are, if a fellow STAY does not feel comfortable or safe enough to participate or interact within their shared fandom? In what was once a positive, fun-loving, safe space? I don't mind other STAY following me, but if you are mutuals with anyone who has made comments or talked down about me for standing up and defending what I believe in, and what I know to be true, I am sorry, but you are not welcome here.

I will continue to support and post Felix content, but I will no longer associate myself with Tumblr STAY. I realize that we are all strangers on the internet, and what others think or say about me doesn't truly matter or affect my life personally (not like it used to), but my mental health comes first. I want my blog to be a place where I can express myself and escape reality, and I want others to feel safe and comfortable here, too.

[hamsamwich23]

Hello and welcome, Silly Critters

About me

My name is Sam and/or Mort, I'm 19 years old. I identify as pan + demiromantic-asexual, and my pronouns are he/they/it/xe. I am also polyamorous and have one partner (whom I love very much💛).

My hobbies include writing (mostly fanfiction), playing video games, role play, photography, and more. I am currently working on two AU's, which will be mentioned later. (After my DNI)

My interests include: Hello Puppets, Doki Doki Literature Club, 1nv4d3r Z1m, Adventure Time, Hollow Knight, Cult Of The Lamb, Don't Hug Me Im Scared, Milk inside a bag of milk +Milk outside a bag of milk, Amanda The Adventurer, Welcome Home, Smile For Me, Happy Game, Slime ranchers, Among Us, Minecraft, Fall Guys, GHOST and pals music, Vane Lily music, R.I.P music, Limbo, Inside, Bojack Horseman, Yo Kai Watch (1st and 2nd Games), Nexo Knights, Night In The Woods, Deltarune, Undertale, Undertale Yellow, The Dog Island, The backrooms, Liminal Space, Tomodachi Life, That's Not My Neighbor (Bolded interests are my current special interests and main focuses)

My DMs are always open, and I'm always up for making friends! However I would like to mention that I am neurodivergent, I have AuDHD and struggle with OCD and heavy mental health problems. I simply ask that you be patient with me. As I may misunderstand things at times, as well as go offline or isolate myself at times.

❗Writing Commissions and trades are currently: CLOSED

❗Requests for Unreality Au one shots are OPEN

❗Hello Puppets Infected Au will be continued in 2025.

🍉This Blog Stands With The People Of Palestine🍉

DNI

I'm aware that people don't Technically have to follow DNI's, but I would still like to state my boundaries. I block freely and often, and will block you if you make me uncomfortable and/or treat people like shit, or for any personal reason that I feel the need to block.

That being said, as I mentioned before I have heavy paranoia issues and OCD that interfere with my every day life, including life on the Internet. If anything at all feels off to me I just block. I understand this is somewhat irrational and I apologize in advance if I end up blocking you for seemingly no reason. This is the easiest way I can explain the issue.

I would prefer if you didn't interact with me if you're any of the following or if any of the following applies to you:

Prosh1p/Comsh1p/Prof1c/ECT, shipping discourse blogs, against oc x canon/self shippers, if you engage in lgbtq+ discourse and/or are a lgbtq discourse blog, support the boyfriends webtoon, hardcore DSMP fans, k1nk/f3tish blogs that are not run by people i personally know, support either or both fox_an_draw and/or scatteredkitbrainzzz/kitruckus, hardcore stranger things fans

(a lot of these will still end up in an automatic block but I'll still at least try to ask for my boundaries to be respected)

Please do not talk to me about: Ship discourse, Lgbtq+ discourse, TheWaltenFiles (unless we're mutuals but even then I would prefer not too), IZfandom discourse, The Amazing Digital Circus.

You will be blocked immediately if: you are bigoted in any way at all (TERFS/radfems, rad-exclus, abliest, pro-isreal/Zionist, antisemitic/Nazi's, conservative/republican, anti-lgbtq+, sexist, anti-choice, ECT), L0Li/Sh0t4c0n, Pro-harassment, Antishippers who tell pr0shippers to hurt themselves/k1ll themselves/to relive their trauma, people who harass others over shipping in general, ai "artists", people who support the use of AI to steal from content creators, people who believe "blackwashing" is a thing and/or defend whitewashing, If you support any of the following people: JKRowling*, Viziepop*, proshippersaretheproblem, thelocalvampyre, inky/Spencer/snax/grey(IZ), Dream/DreamWasTaken, mr-saturnnn, Fluffyphobias, kittensneeze, izzydrawsforfun, lunasol, refrainbow.

(*Fans of Harry Potter and HH/HB who are critical and don't support the actions of the creators are okay to interact)

This list can and probably will be updated at any time

Socials/Other blogs

My other blogs on Tumblr:

@unreality-au-content-hoard - A blog for my Unreality Au, A crossover/multifandom AU inspired by weirdcore, horror, and Liminal Space themes. (Includes characters from Hello Puppets, Doki Doki Literature Club, Inv4d3r Z1m, Undertale +UT yellow (recent addition), Hatsune Miku(/hj), and OCs!! (All content warnings are in the pinned post. Fan content for this au is OKAY with me!!)

@morts-infected-au - A Hello Puppets AU inspired by the MLP infection Aus!! (this blog is still under construction and this Au contains heavy elements of horror and gore)

Discord: hamsamwich23

Instagram: hamsamwich23

Wattpad: judgment23

SquidgeWorld: hamsamwich23

Thank you for reading

[quillinhand]

My problem with Snaters

Look, this is a fandom; love who u want, hate who u want, and find the people you can share that with. I’m not here to shit on that, ok? That’s what fandom is for, and it’s the thing that drew me to fandom in the first place.

What I do have a problem with is the people- specifically Snaters- who decide to hate a character, and then use that to proclaim their moral superiority. I see so many posts and arguments from the Snapedom itself that are defending Snape from the usual Snater arguments and I’m just like, what?

Why on earth do we have to defend ourselves from internet strangers who literally can’t tell fiction apart from reality? Who cannot comprehend the fact that characters can be morally questionable and still pretty fucking interesting?????

I’m sick of questioning myself and my character after arguments. I’m sick of questioning something I love. It’s fucking fiction, guys. We don’t need to defend ourselves against this bullshit. I don’t give a fuck if Snape was a bad teacher. I don’t give a fuck if Snape joined a terrorist group when he was a teenager. And I don’t give a fuck about any of the other morally questionable things he’s done, cuz guess what?

He’s FICTIONAL.

[tottwriter]

Children deserve privacy. It doesn't matter what fucking happens. It was an invasion of my privacy for my abusive mother to use spyware on my phone and it's an invasion of privacy for regular parents to have 24/7 access to everything their child does. guess what fucking happens if a kid gets messaged by someone with a pride icon and their parent sees it! That's right, that child is dead now! Defending this puts children's blood on your hands.

Oh hey, my first anon hate, because I tried to stop scaremongering on the internet!

Look, it's sweet that you have strong opinions, but the problem is that you need some common sense to back them up, which is something that you only get by thinking carefully before reacting in the spur of the moment. So let's break down where you went wrong.

Firstly...it's really shitty that your parent(s) were abusive, and I'm sorry you grew up in that environment. I hope you're in a safer space now.

But as I mentioned in the actual body of my post...there is a real danger when it comes to extrapolating based on personal experience alone. Because your parents are not the only parents. Abuse is not normal, and it shouldn't be the framework around which we build our society.

For example. When I wrote a diary as a kid, and my mum read it and that led to me getting in a shitload of trouble? I could use that experience to say "kids shouldn't keep diaries, it's a vulnerability which people will exploit". Or I could say that everyone should do what I did, which was to develop a coded language only I could read, so my privacy couldn't be invaded again.

But that's ridiculous! People should be allowed to write diaries without being afraid their parents will read them and dislike what they find. So to tell a whole society: "Hey, this bitch read some kid's diary, so now we have to ban all diaries to keep children safe" is a massive overreaction, no?

At the same time, it's true that abusive parents might read a child's diary. So it would be prudent to tell a child in that situation how to avoid the danger. Which, if you had actually read my post, you'd know that I did.

Because, again, the discord policy is an opt in feature which links to an account, and can be subverted.

Children with abusive parents deserve to know that they can protect thsemselves by making a burner account for their parents to link to instead.

But okay, PSA time, I guess internet literacy has changed, and maybe that terminology was too vague. Here's how to make a burner account, and what it can do.

Step one: make an email address. It can be anything, you just need a different one from your ususal, so that you can use it to sign up for Discord again. I actually have three email accounts, this is useful for protecting myself from spam and scammers. It's good internet practice anyway.

Step two: make a second discord account. You could use this to communicate with family members or fandom friends you're a bit leery or wary of, but generally you're going to want to keep activity to a minimum, while still logging in regularly enough to throw people off the trail. Maybe join a few strategic servers to give the appearance of life.

Step three: use this second discord account to link to the abusive parent's account as part of the monitoring programme.

Congratulatoons! Now your parent thinks they have a level of control and monitoring which actually isn't happening, and you can switch between these two accounts freely to keep up the ruse while you work towards safety. This is actually how I protected myself while trying to escape an abusive relationship while my Skype account was being monitored, so I very much know that it works.

Again, I'm sorry that your parent(s) installed spyware on your phone, because that sort of thing obviously wouldn't be avoidable in the same way. But reading comprehension is very important, and it's also important to consider that strangers on the internet might be survivors of abuse as well, and hurling insults at them? Perhaps that's not the wisest use of your time.

Perhaps it's wiser to stop and read what people are telling you, so that you can learn from how other people have kept themselves safe in the past.

I wish you a kind future, with a better grasp of empathy down the line.

[bylertruther]

ewww serious (and long) post incoming, but for future reference: just because this is the internet... that doesn't mean that real-world etiquette doesn't apply.

if you go up to a random stranger and assume that they're talking about you, they're unlikely to take kindly to that. they're especially unlikely to take kindly to you then accusing them of lying, waving your hands in the air to get other strangers in on this conversation, badmouthing them, and walking away before they can even get a word in.

if you wouldn't do that or accept that behavior yourself in real life, why would it suddenly be acceptable online?

wouldn't you feel confused and offended if you were the one getting accused of something you didn't do? if you were thrust into a no-win game where it doesn't matter how or if you do or don't respond, because the outcome is still going to be the same? if you were trying to mind your business and someone else decided to warp that, create a spectacle of it, and broadcast it to thousands of people? if the person accusing you of something then went on to do that very same thing in an effort to garner support as if this is a battle of some sort?

isn't that just... rude? to go up to a stranger and assume that whatever they're doing is about you? to go up to a stranger and assume that you've preoccupied their mind and time? to pick a fight that you won't see through and slander them to thousands of people?

like. yes, this is the internet. no, i don't actually feel personally hurt or anything over what happened—because i know who i am, and you can go back through my blog and a) see the fifty posts i've made on the sword debate, and b) a post from the night before where i literally predicted what ended up happening—but i do take issue with the behavior that we do and don't allow in this e-space.

i don't have to respond to someone's presumptuousness with my usual chummy, fluffy tone that i reserve for my followers and friends. i don't have to take care not to sound "defensive" when i've literally been thrust into an argument where i'm now forced to defend myself against someone that was already being defensive, hypocritical, and that doesn't actually care to hear my answer because they've already made their judgement anyway. i don't have to take someone trying to speak over me or talk someone down sweetly when they're making an attack on my character, and neither does anyone else that's ever been put in a similar position. i'm not jesus—i'm not going to turn the other cheek.

personal issues can explain why a person behaves the way they do, but they don't excuse that behavior or make it okay. none of us should ever make our personal problems someone else's problem—that's a mark of poor emotional control, and it's just not fair to anyone else.

not all of us are adults here, i know, but most of us should know better. if you want this to be a true community, then you need to behave appropriately and maturely.

there's a person behind the pixels that are on your screen, and they're every bit as real as you are. if you wouldn't do something in person, then you shouldn't do it online either.

that's just my two cents, though.

[holiciouspursuitofenvy]

It took me a really long fucking time to acknowledge why i can't handle boundaries/end up being manipulative as fuck to real and sometimes online people.

EVERYBODY FEELS LIKE I HAVE TO WALK ON EGGSHELLS WITH! I truly did not understand stand that consciously, i only ever chalked it up to social anxiety. No matter how many times i told myself i wish there was a class on how to talk to people and what people will judge you on.

I grew up with parents who would be gone from home long periods of time (due to their jobs bc we were poor and childhood divorce). And when they came home would either fight eachother or their children (me and my siblings). Belittling us for little things we did or want which oftentimes was extremely normal kid stuff. And because i was the youngest, i was an honorary child of the eldest teenage sister who obviously was a bad mother but also actively bullied me for years.

Not to mention parents who would constantly tell me don't trust anyone, everyone is judging you and out to get you. So they sheltered you home minimizing play time or hanging out with other kids. I actively remember being a kid and trying to set up healthy boundaries like "hey mom, it really hurta me when you yell at me for crying when i get shots or needles, I'm trying my best." And her going "fuck off, you're just sensitive and you need to get over it by now." Or my dad actively triggering me when he does his angry sound tell so i asked him to please do it less and he angrily calls me a child in a long drawn out paragraph and huffs away.

I was/sometimes still am stuck in a toxic cycle of needing to learn how to set up boundaries for myself and telling people, namely my family, to fuck off if they don't. I used to have a hero complex where i would help people at the expense of myself to often but then i said fuck that and now I've made my over defensiveness even more obvious.

But i also couldn't acknowledge this extends to EVERYTHING. In real life when someone says you did a bad thing suddenly it feels like a volcano of the most angry emotions stir inside of me BECAUSE I AM FURIOUS.

I'M FURIOUS that no one acknowledges how hard it was to walk on eggshells all the time. How I'd need to pat myself on the back every time i completed a social interaction successfully or comb through every detail of them to find something to improve on. I never felt i was progressing to normal but that i was stuck incompetent forever.

I get told a lot that I'm very mysterious and never tell anyone anything and this is why. I HAVE MAJOR TRUST ISSUES. This is where the hyper-independence, the closed offness, the combative nature against people i trust especially comes in. Why I'm always surprised people who don't see me everyday or run to me anytime the see me say I'm their friend. I'm sure i came off super cold when i asked them why but i was genuinely surprised. Because being teased, bullied, and dismissed by everyone close to me growing up fucked up my view of people and relationships.

I don't mean for any of this to come off as an excuse but as an explanation. And me trying to reach people who've gone through the same things i have but kept getting back into the cycle of needing to defend yourself by all means possible to people who just said "please stop, i don't like this," or any other variation of you have done something wrong. Especially if you went over the line online and someone said "hey thwt way too over familiar, don't talk to strangers like that." because yea STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET ARE NOT YOUR THERAPIST OR PUNCHING BAGS.

I really need people to understand this isn't from entitlement, it's subconscious mistrust in everyone you meet bc subconsciously i believed everyone was out for me. Someone i needed to defend against before or after they talk to me. No matter how nice and gentle it comes doesn't matter. Everyone has to be lying and think it's the biggest deal in the world actually or this is a greater sign of you being awful all along. Like everone did that to everyone elae. And if anyone just casually calls this narcissism I'm hitting you with a 2x4. Those posts never resonated with me. They felt dismissive for me personally.

I AM ALWAYS IN A PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE VICTORIAN ENGLAND TEA PARTY WITH A BAD REPUTATION. Or better yet I'm always walking on eggshells with people.

Coming from someone who knows they're mentally fucked up but not knowing exactly how for all your life but especially in the past 5+ years of not going to therapy except when it was closeby and free a couple times but never being truly open with them because you learned vulnerability equals dismissal and pain 99% of the time.

So yeah, i highly recommend looking back on your childhood and examining when you were dismissed or had your boundaries broken. Then work on active trust with people and be open to more people because not processing my trauma but trying to steamroll being a functional persom also fucked me up.