#also ive got to have a topic for my next essay for my meeting this saturday hahahha

[claratyler]

pls help my essay is due in less than a week and i'm stuck in research and reading. this is essay question is impossible to answer. "the problem of the elnchus need not arise." "no alethic distinction between the refutand and the premises." sure. why not. there might as well be no need for the problem to arise what the hell do i know. i think im going to bed

[cali]

im a different anon but im just curious what advice you would give to someone whos been pillbugging it for um. over a year now

mmm i cant really answer how to stop having depression which im guessing is what u mean + i dont know how ur head works but ive been living mostly NEET-ly for more than 2 yrs now and everyday im getting a better curve at dealing with it so i can tell u what works for me.

half the time when im pillbugging hard im paralyzed by a nontangible fear and the only thing that could stop it is adressing wherever the fear is coming from but the confrontation of the topic, trying to figure out where its even coming from, is terrifying too so i dont do it and stay swimming in tar. theres a sentence people keep saying when they explain why they watch 2 hour video essays "it makes my head go quiet". thats the enemy, the thought, not the person saying it. long term i mean. when its short term anguish that can be bridged by pillbugging its fine i think but if ur "making ur head quiet" for more than a month i urge u to make it go really loud again but thats hard. the only times i can try and confront those thoughts is when i feel otherwise nice, if i got externally forced to have a fun day, hike with my papa, date day with my girlfriend, sometimes just got myself to make a nice meal and it helped, when u feel better its a little less scary and u can maybe try and think out of it a little better. also i think on those days youre generally more positively charged so u got more hope outlook. COOL. i think this is why some people do meditation. im not good at it so i dont really know but i think its a brave pasttime of tackling unpleasant ideas. i used to try and dope my way out of it with lsd cuz everytime i used it it kind of forced me to confront whatever trouble i had but ive forbad myself that cuz i didnt want to rely on it as crutch + it was just unpleasant to get hit over the head everytime. now i only do it when i feel good already (havent done it in half a year lol). sorry, drug tangent. also weed is synonymous with pillbugging 4 me.

otherwise, rituals.... mmmmm..... when therapists and whoevers say stuff like take daily walks daily exercise take daily shower i think all of those are like half about the direct benefits they give and half just about doing anything regularly. cuz it helps. during pillbug hours the point for me is kind of to have time pass as fast as possible so the timeframe to hurt is reduced which is counterproductive cuz if it flows u by rlly hard u cant really grasp onto anything to get off the ride easily. and its never going to come really easy theres no probable single action or event that is going to singlehandedly pull u out of the mire, no rapture, no healing vitamin, its always going to be slow and tedious and boring and stupid but a routine is a nice framework to start that. brushing ur teeth is nice. and when u do something daily the days start becoming more tangible again and u will be able to tell how many days ago tuesday was. maybe u can think abotu what factors motivate u and twist them to do your biddinggg. shame and dissapointment works really well for me if i tell someone i will have this done by then and i dont it usually overpowers the malaise or whatever other reason has been making me not do it prior. but this requires social bonds and i cant guarantee u have those. in summer i started doing therapy cuz in germany i need it for transgenderism and shes also a good beacon for that, if she says do something until next time we meet i dont want to dissapoint her. other than that, um idk, everyting else is just kind of part of that. take walks even if u dont want to think about things even if its scary. be brave like childrens book illustration of knight slaying dragon. and then maybe u get a princess kiss

[ottiliere]

hello! ur posts on the vagus nerve and its connections to digestions have encouraged me to do a lil mini dissertation thingy kinda focused on it/around it, ur big thread on PVT and everything really piqued my interest when i read it and i just held onto it for like a year or smthing until like last week when i started the project. Ik u said recently in one of ur posts i believe that ur not going to post the big dirk PVT post and im not here to be like yo post it because i also think u said that ur kinda moving away from like hs/dirky stuff rn ?? (im forgetting if i saw that sorry) but yeah i just wanted to say thank u etc etc, like ive never done an ask before so sorry if this is phrased weirdly but ur blog is just like one of those blogs that fundamentally changed how i view certain things in life for the better lol, like whether its ur beautiful representations / depictions of mental health in like just beautifully painted art (seriously the way u make it look like idk how to word it cartoony/really 2d but then it stands out against the background + if u zoom in and see the tiny pixel details == it makes me mad) or just like the huggeee long form posts that i like to chew on and save cuz theres so many details that AFFAAT like the way you talk abt the topics u portray has made me concious of how i would want to do so in the same way ig u get me. anyway this got really long and idk if i come across coherently, but ur just a random person on the internet whos art and written thoughts that u decide to share makes me happy when i see it == makes me pace around my room and distract me from this fat essay lmao so tldr: i really appreciate what u do + i hope like that ur doing well and that u keep arting and thoughting no matter what it is that u choose to focus on

(uve made me comitted to reading jthm, playing psychonauts and giving jjba w/ dio another go lmao) 🫶🫶

Hello! I’m sorry this reply is coming so late, this ask in particular is very sweet and has stuck out to me.

I’m really happy to have introduced you to PVT, this is something I’ve heard from a few different people on here and it’s very sweet… I did my thesis on it in college and the time really flew by while working on it, things you don't think could possibly attributed to "nerve issues" being nerve issues is always an eye-opener, isn't it? being able to research things that interest you & access information in general really is a privilege in this day and age.

“The topics [I] portray” are very important to me, so it’s heartening when others take interest in spite of the obvious deterrents. A lot of what I love making art about is unpalatable to most, and while I do understand the reasons for that on principle, it can make things feel a little insular. I genuinely believe there’s a lot of value in depicting tableaus of misery.

The last year has brought a lot of very unforeseen changes, and my life is quite different from when I initially made this blog to post about him! That’s also part of why I’ve been so sparse here…though I’m working to change that quite soon. I love sharing my work, and I’ve had the privilege of meeting some truly wonderful people through this website. That said…with where I’m at now, I’m not sure I’ll be posting the Dirk essay anytime soon, I’m afraid.

I’ve undertaken a few ongoing projects, one of which in particular is an original project I plan on sharing publicly here hopefully within the next month or so. I hope it’s something you & anyone else who’s stuck around with me here will enjoy, but failing that, I’ve really enjoyed working on it thus far.

Thank you for the sweet ask, take care, and good luck with your project!

[theokotrain]

Vestige - Interlude: The Party

Wattpad Version

As the night fills the sky

All my fears are dissipating

'Cause I feel reassured

That I might make it through

And if all my luck should burn

Then I guess it burned for you

---

April 13th, 2012

I was sitting on my bed, back against the bed frame with my knees raised in front of me, holding up my laptop. I had been spending the last few hours writing an essay for my English class, specifically answering the topic question my teacher had given everybody: "How do our past experiences influence our decisions?". The question was simple enough, it's a pretty universally recognized idea that stuff that happens to us has an effect on our decision making. I mean, that's what it means to grow, right? You gain more knowledge as you live through life and form new memories, and that helps you make more informed decisions in the future.

I've never really been too good at writing anything analytical, especially non-fiction. Essays and research papers that required informed arguments that helped to prove your point? Those were an entirely unknown game to me, one which I had never managed to breeze through. Of course, we were supposed to use some of the books we've read this year as evidence for our arguments, so that at least made it a bit easier, even if most of the books were ones from nearly five decades ago and definitely out of touch at this point. The sound of my laptop's keys clicking as I typed away were the only sounds I could pick up in the room. I had my earphones in for a bit, but those always hurt my ears after a while, so I had taken them out.

Looking at the time in the corner of my laptop screen, it was 4:43 PM. I started writing as soon as I got home from class, so I've only been going for about an hour. Unfortunately, this essay is a non-insignificant amount of my course grade, so I needed to finish this as soon as possible.

God, it's a Friday! I could be out doing something actually fun with Shae and the other guys. Isn't that the whole point of high school? That's what it always seemed like in movies, at least, but I guess I've been a victim of false advertising.

After a bit more time passes, the sound of my phone ringing from my desk brings me out of my writing trance. I sigh, setting my laptop next to me on the bed, not wanting to get out of bed, but eventually forcing myself into maneuvering over to the desk, I grab the phone and flip it open, looking to see the Caller ID.

Shaela.

I instantly accept the call, it's almost second nature at this point. She calls me at least once a day so she can tell me about whatever person is pissing her off that day, or whatever drama she's heard from her other friends. I was never really one for gossip, or whatever, but I did appreciate talking to her.

I put the phone up to my ear, "What's up?" I say, a tinge of fatigue in my voice.

"Hey! Just warning you that I'm like five minutes from your place and you don't have a say in the matter." She replied bluntly. I can hear the sound of cars driving by on the other side of the phone, so she's obviously outside, confirming her words.

I take a deep breath before speaking, "...Why?" I said with exasperated sarcasm.

"Because! I have something to tell you, and if I say it over the phone then I seriously doubt it'll work out in the way I'm hoping it does."

"That clears up nothing, actually, and now I regret picking up."

"Even if you didn't answer, that doesn't stop your parents from letting their son's lovely goody-two-shoes of a friend stop by for a visit!" She exclaimed, a mischievous tone subtly layered in her voice.

She's not wrong.

"Wow, you make this sound like you're sneaking into a high-security building or something." I say, utterly confused at her motives. "Obviously you can come over, but I'm not exactly filled with confidence at whatever you're planning."

"Like I said, I can't tell you yet, but it's gonna be awesome!" She said. There was an unusual perkiness to her that made itself pretty clear over the phone.

Before I can say anything, I'm met with the dial tone, signalling that she had hung up. The only thing I can do at this point is wait for her to get here, I guess. She always lets herself in when she comes over, so I don't make the effort to meet her downstairs. A sudden ping sound fills the quiet room, seeming to come from my laptop. I get back into bed, looking to see where the notification came from.

It's a message from Tyler.

He's definitely the newest member of our little group, if even that. I'm the only person in the group that he's actually friends with so far, despite my efforts to bring him along on any plans we all make. I only met the Grey Wolf back in February, at the beginning of the second semester, in the school's photography class. Nobody I knew signed up for it, and due to our prestigious high school's advanced budget for technology, we were forced to be paired up for shared computer use in the Photography Room. I suppose Tyler was also fortunate enough to not know anybody in the class, as we ended up being paired together by the teacher. He was definitely someone I could only describe as uninterested, as the first week or two I spent with him in that class consisted of him either giving me one word answers or answering in the most blunt, bored tone he could manage. Though, it seemed that it took a bit of persistence on my part to push him to be more open, and since then he's grown to be a pretty great friend.

Tyler: u goin to that party tonight ive been hearin about?

Party? I wasn't made aware of anything like that, at least... not yet. Something in the back of my brain was telling me that Shae had ulterior motives about coming to my place so suddenly, but I'm still hoping that I'm wrong. I hate parties.

Jake: party? havent heard anything, are u going?

Tyler: thinkin about it

think its gonna be over at chris's place, guess his parents r gone for the weekend or somethin

Jake: chrisssss? ughh that guy is such an asshole

Tyler: yeah u dont havee to go, but itd prob be more fun to have someone u actually know there

The way he worded that was directed at me, but I could tell he didn't want to go on his own.

Jake: i guess ill think about it

Tyler: sickk, call me if u make up ur mind

Before I can type my farewells over IM, Shaela energetically bursts through the door.

"Jesus! You scared the shit outta me, don't you knock?" I said, mildly exasperated.

"Oh come on, I literally called you a few minutes ago, you had plenty of time to not make a situation where it'd be a bad idea for me to barge in," She replies, laughing, before setting her bag on the ground and dramatically falling into my bed. "Today was garbage."

"What happened?"

"Ugh, Claire decided to just not show up, I guess, on the day we're supposed to present that stupid History project? And, obviously, she didn't give me her part of the project or anything, so I had tell Mr Thomas about the situation, which was fucking embarrassing." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Luckily, he said he wouldn't reduce my grade for handing it in late, since I actually had my part finished. God, what a bitch- I must've called her like thirty times before class to get her to email me her part, and every time it went straight to voicemail - and she told me last night that she'd have it ready for today!"

"Have you gotten a hold of her yet?" I asked, closing my laptop and setting it beside me.

Shae turns her head to me, shaking her head, "Nope, she's been ghosting me all day."

"Sounds like typical Claire."

"Yeah, I shouldn't have partnered with her, but apparently I can't say no to anyone, so..." I chuckle lightly in response. "Anyways! I didn't just come here to complain to you!" She says, sitting up on the bed, now facing towards me.

"Right... So what was so important that you just had to tell me in person?" I say, sarcastically.

"Like I said, if I asked you over the phone you would've definitely said no, and my ability to pressure you into doing things isn't as effective unless it's in person!" She responded.

I subtly rolled my eyes, but it's clear she noticed from the stare-down she gave me, "Okay, so what is it?"

"Soooooo..." She says, trying to find the rest of the words, "There's a party."

Wow.

"Wh- did everybody know about that party except for me?!?" I exclaimed.

Shaela's face quickly turns to an expression of shock, "Who told you?"

"Tyler did, like, not even five minutes ago." I say, bluntly.

"What? How does he know Chris?"

"Friend-of-a-friend, I'm guessing?"

"Hmm..." She hummed, thinking about something, "So, did you tell him you were going?"

"I specifically said I'd think about it, nothing definite." I made it clear in my tone that I wasn't particularly interested.

"Oh, come on, dude! It'll be fun!"

I didn't really have an interest in going, but I know it'd make Shae happy, plus it'd be nice to hang out with Tyler again even if we've only known each other for a couple months.

"...Fine. But, if Chris or any of his buddies start shit, I'm leaving."

"Awesome!"

"Lemme just call Tyler and let him know," I said as I grabbed my phone and flipped it open, finding Tyler in my contact list and dialling.

"You gonna bring him with-" The phone rings a few times before he picks up and I extend my hand out towards Shae in a shushing motion. She rolls her eyes, smirking.

"Hey? So are ya gonna go?" He said eagerly.

"Well, Shae showed up at my door literally right after you messaged me, asking the same thing!" I exclaimed in a fake-preppy voice. "So, I guess I have no choice since she'll probably just drag me there if I say no," I joked. She nods her head toward me in response.

"Oh, is she going too?" He inquired.

"Yeah, I guess so! Your place is kinda on the way to Chris', so we could probably meet you at your place and go from there."

"Yeah! Sounds good!" He quickly responded.

I laughed, "Okay, we'll call you when we get there?"

"Sure thing!"

We exchanged our farewells, and hung up. The party wasn't for at least another hour or two, so Shae and I had some time to burn, of which I was entirely out of ideas. I figured I could at least spend this time actually being productive, so I grabbed my laptop and continued on writing my English essay as Shae resumed her previous conversation topic of stuff at school that was pissing her off. It was pretty entertaining, to be fair. She was telling me about how Chris had gotten in a fight with this other kid in our grade yesterday after class, which I wasn't lucky enough to witness, but it was obviously all anyone would talk about for basically the entire day today so word spread around fast. The part I hadn't heard about was that both Chris and the other guy, Nathan, got suspended for a week because of it. Chris was generally an asshole to everybody, including myself, so I didn't feel too bad about that. Although, I didn't know Nathan all that well. Other than having a few classes together, I don't think I've ever held an actual conversation with the guy. I think it was safe to assume that Chris was the one who started it, and Shae seemed to agree with me, even though she hadn't seen the fight either.

"But, apparently Nathan's gonna show up tonight!" She exclaimed coyly.

"...Remind me again why you want me to go to this specific party?"

"You'll have a great time! It's not like we'll be involved in the drama anyway so think of it more as entertainment!"

"I think you and I have different definitions of the word 'entertainment'," I joked.

"I'm sure you can go run off somewhere with Tyler if you're not having fun," She said, her tone reminding me of my mom.

"Oh yeah? What about you?"

"I can't just leave Alex at a party with Chris, those two start shit between each other so much and I'd rather not deal with the aftermath of that today."

"I'm guessing it's safe to assume that Elliot's going too, then?"

"He's not big on parties, but he'll usually go if everyone else is, unlike somebody," She says, gesturing towards me.

"Good one," I reply, unmoving as I keep typing away at my assignment.

"Well, we should probably leave soon since we're stopping at Tyler's place on the way.

I saved the document I had been working on, closing my laptop. "Sounds good to me!"

---

"I can't believe you actually agreed to go." Tyler joked as we walked towards the road from his house.

"Yeah, me either." I replied. I definitely didn't put in any effort in dressing up for the party, opting for a snug space-themed graphic tee, along with black jeans and a white zip-up hoodie. Shae and Tyler both stand on opposite sides of me as we walk down the sidewalk.

"Luckily I learned the subtle techniques in convincing you to do things against your better judgement, so now you get to have fun for once!" Shae exclaimed.

"It's not my fault that going to a party is literally the last thing on earth I'd do for fun in any normal situation." I retorted, putting my hands in the pockets of my jacket.

"Oh yeah? And what do you consider a 'normal situation'?" Shae asks.

"Any situation where you guys aren't the ones trying to get me to go! I'm only doing this for you two, y'know." I said, looking over at both of them.

"What about Elliot and Alex?" Tyler chimed in.

"They aren't the ones asking me to go to this party." I sarcastically remarked, trying to keep the conversation light-hearted. "Speaking of the party- this is Chris we're talking about, there's gonna be beer, right?"

"Uh, duh?" Shae replied.

"Yeah, that's a definite no for me, I'm already enough of a disappointment to my parents,"

"No one's making you drink, Jake. At least you'd be safe if some old hag called the cops about the noise." Shae said.

"I think at that point we're guilty by association, so we'd just make a run for it if that happens," Tyler joked.

"Dude, the chance of me outrunning a police officer successfully is about as likely as me not wanting to punch Chris tonight."

"And the chance of you winning that fight is just as low!" Shae retorted, Tyler laughing in response.

"I specifically said 'want' because of that very reason!"

"Wow, I'd pay money to see you fight that guy." Tyler said, nudging his elbow into my side.

It isn't a secret that I'm not exactly athletic. I mean, I'm definitely not weak, but fighting basically any animal of a similar size to mine was not a situation that favoured my victory.

"That sounds more like just getting the shit kicked outta me for your entertainment." I remarked, lightly punching Tyler's shoulder in return.

"Absolutely worth every penny!" Shae exclaimed. Luckily, the place wasn't any more than ten minutes away from Tyler's place, so I didn't have to endure listening to these two talk about me getting beat up for much longer.

We finally make it to Chris' house, and I'm suddenly filled with an impending sense of regret. Obviously, my parents would never in a million years agree to me going to a party like this. As far as they know, I'm just spending the evening hanging out with Shae at Tyler's house. So yeah, this entire night had a lot of potential for disaster.

Shae can clearly see my hesitation, because she grabs my hand, leading me up the walkway, Tyler following closely behind.

"I wonder if Elliot and Alex beat us here?" She says, knocking on the front door.

"I doubt they had anything to do earlier, hell they probably came straight here after school, knowing Alex." I said, laughing.

Our conversation is cut short by the opening door, revealing the familiar black cat.

"Oh, look, the Stephenson kid brought his girlfriend!" Chris exclaimed mockingly, looking back into the house, before peering around my shoulder, "And... Tyler?" He said, inquisitively.

I lean over, blocking Tyler from his line of sight, "Yeah, hey, not dating by the way!" I said. I've known Shae since I first moved to Vestige, around the time I turned five years old, so it wasn't uncommon for rumours to go around that we were dating. I've always thought of her more as a sister, if anything.

"I asked them to come!" Tyler said. That was only partly true, but according to Tyler, they've been 'somewhat-friends' for quite a while now, so saying that would at least mean less mild-harassment from Chris for tonight.

"Oh, uh, okay... come on in! But you're on the hook for any shit they pull, Tyler!" He said, opening the door wider.

---

The party had been going on for a few hours at this point. I could recognize most of the animals here from school, but not enough to actually hold a conversation with any of them, so most of my time here had just been spent with Shae and Tyler. The place hasn't been incredibly crowded luckily, but there were easily about forty others in this part of the house alone. I'm assuming only high school grades were invited, but there were a considerable number of students to meet that requirement. The issue at hand for me, other than how crowded this place is, is that both Shae and Tyler ditched me to go... somewhere? I think Shae saw some of her friends and went somewhere with them, but Tyler was pretty secretive about where he was going, only telling me that he'd be back in a bit. So I've been standing here in this random corner of the house with a drink in hand, trying to make myself look busy and not awkward, which is exactly why I didn't want to go to this party in the first place!

"Jake!" A voice shouted from a ways away.

I turn my head in confusion, revealing Alex, walking towards me from across the room.

"Oh, Alex! Hey! What's up dude!" I finish the last bit of my soda, waving at him. Because this was Chris' party, there was obviously beer too, but I didn't feel like coming home drunk and my parents finding out.

"I didn't think you'd wanna come to something like this! Feeling the regret yet?"

"I like parties! It's the times like these when I'm standing in a corner by myself with nothing to do that I hate, which seems to happen every time I go to a party!" I exclaimed, pausing for a moment. "Okay, maybe I do hate parties- I've had to explain this so many times today I'm about ready to jump into Lake Ambuscade."

' "Wow, sounds like somebody needs to socialize instead of stewing in a corner for the rest of the night!"

"Socialize? Really? I know just about everybody here and just about none of them are worth talking-"

"Hang with me and Elliot, then? Justin set up some racing games in the other room, we were gonna join, but we could use a fourth... You in?" He said, his tone obviously trying to sound coercing.

"God, please, anything to get me out of this corner for the next three hours." I said, Alex returning my words with a laugh.

"Well, come on then! We'll have to hurry if we want to get one of the good controllers!" He exclaimed, motioning to follow him.

As we move through the various cliques, I recognize a few faces here and there, though not enough to actually want to talk to them. There's been music playing since we got here, and I have yet to recognize a single song, they all seem to be some form of drone-y bass-heavy music that I can't say I've heard in any normal situations. I'm doing my best to follow Alex, although he keeps weaving between the other animals faster than I can keep up, resulting in me having to shove past everyone near me in an effort to speed myself up. Luckily, it seems that no one notices me anyway.

When we arrive in the other room, it seems to just be another living room, but decorated with a galore of punk band posters, shelves holding more DVD cases than I would ever care to count, and even a mini-fridge. Maybe Chris is the type to have a 'man cave' or something? Just hearing that phrase almost makes me want to vomit, but there aren't any more accurate words that come to mind. The room isn't massive or anything, but the TV resting upon the wall across the room seems to challenge that idea, looking almost eighty inches in size. Luckily no randoms from the party were in here, sitting about ten feet away from the TV is Elliot, leaning back in a purple bean bag chair that seems almost three times bigger than him, and Justin, the cougar I'd only known slightly through Alex, laying down sideways on the couch directly in front of the gigantic screen.

"Whatttt! You took the bean bag chair? Lameee..." Alex whined.

"You're the one who wanted to go get Jake, you snooze you lose!" Elliot retorted, looking oddly proud of himself.

"Damn, wish I had a room like this at my house..." I mumbled, looking around the room.

"Are we gonna play or what?" Justin said, cutting through the momentary silence.

"Duh!" Alex claimed.

Justin sits up, taking the spot on the couch closest to Elliot. I opt for the leftmost seat, and Alex sits in-between the both of us. Elliot grabs the other three controllers and tosses them over at us, one by one. Luckily, there weren't any garbage third-party controllers, so at least none of us would have to deal with that. I will admit, it did feel kinda weird going to someone's party just to play games away from everybody, but I would be lying if I said I didn't prefer that, even though I rarely play games, if ever.

After Justin turns the console on, he goes through the menus, launching the game. I can't say I recognize the title, but it seems to be a pretty standard racing game. He goes into the custom mode, opting for a four-player split-screen match, choosing 'R1' as the category of cars to race in. As everyone chooses their cars, I scroll through the list, not really knowing what to pick. I've never been good with car stuff, so I pick an 'Aston Martin Lola' just based on the number-rating system the game ranks the cars with.

"You guys ready?" Justin asks.

"Oh yeah, get ready to eat my dust you guys!" Elliot exclaims, challengingly.

"Oddly prideful words for someone about to lose!" Alex replies, laughing.

The countdown begins, as the cameras slowly show the view of each car as it moves to the rear. When it starts, I somehow manage the fuckup of spinning my tires out, leaving me a few seconds behind the others as the car swerves back and forth. I curse under my breath as I try to regain control of the car, and swiftly pick up speed. The track seems like nothing I haven't seen before, a typical professional track, with rows and rows of audience seating to the side. Unfortunately, I'm now in last place. The next few moments of the track are a few quick corners, allowing me the chance to catch up, at least a little.

Unexpectedly, the track turns off of the main road, going into a forested area. The road is considerably more narrow at this point, so it takes a conscious effort to not drive into the trees by the asphalt. It looks like the road stretches on forever, as I still can't make out any upcoming turns. I guess the car I chose for the race had a better top speed than Justin's, as I'm quickly catching up to him, moving into third place. I'm gripping my controller to an uncomfortable degree, but I can't seem to relax the tension as I try to make my way into second place. I don't think I can pick up any more speed in this car, so me moving up is reliant on the road staying straight for just a bit longer. After what feels like a lifetime, the front of my car finally starts making it past Elliot's, then the midsection, and finally, I'm in second. The sound of all four car engines is drowning out any remnants of the video game music, and I feel the sudden urge to curse out whoever turned the TV volume up this high. My eyes are focused entirely on Alex's car as I make my final push into first place. If I were actually driving this fast in the real world, I'd be scared out of my fucking mind. Out of nowhere, Alex, and the others, begins to slow down considerably.

Oh fuck.

It's at that point I notice that there is a sharp right turn rapidly approaching. I've been pushing the top-speed of this car since the beginning of this stretch of road, and now I'm going too quickly to stop in time. What's the button to use the handbrake, again? I figure that the only way for me to not fuck up this race for myself is to try to drift around the corner. Considering I've never played this game before, it's going to prove to be a challenge. But, it's either that, or just ending up in dead-last again.

I hold down the A button, and pull the joystick as far to the right as possible. Suddenly, all I can hear from the game is the loud skidding sounds of my tires against the asphalt. To my surprise, I cut the corner a bit early, now going over the grass. I try to do a bit of directional-corrections and start heading back onto the track. Going over the grass definitely slowed me down a fair bit, but it definitely was a significantly better outcome over just crashing into the wall. And, to my surprise, the corner of my screen reads... first?!?

"How the fuck...?" Alex questions, seemingly in disbelief.

"I wish I could tell you." I replied, eyes wide at whatever the fuck just happened.

The distance I managed to gain on Alex isn't by a whole lot, but there's only about a quarter of the track left before we reach the finish line, so I have a chance at winning this. The track hurriedly changes from the forest as it reenters the main track. The long, straight roads seem to end as the road becomes a slow series of sharp turns, never giving me the opportunity to get back up to speed. It seems like the high top speed was my only advantage, because at every corner we take, I turn my camera around, revealing the other cars inching closer and closer to me.

I can see the finish line on the mini-map, just a few more turns away. I know that I'm not gonna be able to distance myself from Alex and the others at this point, so my only feasible strategy is to keep moving, cutting the corners as fast as I can, and getting to the finish line before they can pass me. Unfortunately, Alex's car seems to be getting too close for comfort now, meaning I might have to take some risks to ensure I can stay in first. As we approach the final turn, leading into the finish line, I realise I'm gonna have to try to drift this corner. I can feel my pointer finger practically cracking the plastic on the controller from the amount of pressure I'm putting on the right trigger. In a final plea to win, I push down on the A button, pulling the handbrake. The car starts to smoothly skid around the corner. Luckily, there are barriers on the sides of the road this time, preventing me from sliding onto the grass. To my surprise, the drift seems to work better than expected. That is, until, like the fucking idiot I am, make a slight overcorrection towards the left barriers as I exit the drift. I managed to avoid driving directly into the wall, but it did slow me down a bit.

Alex is immediately behind me, and I put all of my strength into accelerating towards the finish line. I'd be fucked if I broke the controller, cause I can't really afford the fifty dollars to buy a new one, but winning this race is more important to me at the moment. The finish line is only about five-hundred metres away, and Alex is slowly beginning to pass. All I can do at this point is push the gas as much as I can, and pray that I can cross the finish line before he can get back into first place. The finish line gets closer and closer, and it seems like it's gonna be too close for me to accurately tell the winner. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest from how stressful this fucking game has been, and now, we're about to find out whose efforts paid off. As each car makes its way over the finish line, each of our dedicated sections of the screen turns to slow motion. When it's finally over, the text fades in on each screen, revealing our place...

...

...

...Second?!?

"FUCK!" I shouted, realising I had been holding my breath since the final stretch of the race.

"HA! Dude, you suck!" Alex exclaimed, playfully shoving me.

"I think that was the most effort I've put into anything in my life." I said, setting my controller on the coffee table in front of me.

"Wow, that's dramatic," Justin remarked.

"Yeah, that's the usual for Jake," Elliot replied, laughing.

"You probably woulda won if you picked a better car, dude. That track was way too close-quarters so you should've gone with a car with better acceleration." Alex said.

"Wha- do you own this game?" I questioned, looking accusatory.

"...Yeah? It came out a few months ago, pretty popular right now." He replied.

"Ugh, this is what I get for playing with a bunch of gamers." I exclaimed, applying a disgusted tone to the last word.

"Not my fault you only play like one game a month!" Alex joked.

"Even then, I was like this close to beating you anyway!" I said, gesturing a minuscule distance between my thumb and pointer finger.

A voice interrupts our argument, coming from right outside the room, "Uh huh...

...

Really? That's bullshit! Come on...

...

Dude, give me a couple of days, I'll make it right!

...

Yeah, I swear."

It seems that we all stopped talking to listen in at the same time. "That sounds like Tyler... who's he arguing with?" Elliot asked. I can't make out the voice of whoever he's talking to, it just sounds like mumbling.

They seem to pause for a moment, and the sound of a single set of footsteps can be heard.

"Fuck..." Tyler says to himself, still out of view.

"...I should probably see what's up, you guys can keep playing without me." I say, getting up from my spot on the couch.

"Yeah, you do that! Less competition for me," Alex exclaims, laughing to himself.

"Hey, I can still beat your ass at this game, I know exactly which car to pick this time!" Elliot argued.

"Yeah, right! Guess we'll find out!"

I leave as the three start up another game, kind of glad I don't have to have another near-heart attack from playing again. When I get back into the dimly-lit hallway, Tyler is nowhere to be seen.

I look around, heading into the main room of the house to see if I can spot him. It's pretty difficult to see anything, because of how dim it is here, plus the sheer amount of animals crowding up the place. Despite that, I manage to spot the Grey Wolf a ways away, hurrying quickly into the bathroom.

As I shove my way through a few groups of teens, I almost fall over a few times, gaining confused stares from a few in the room. I lightly knock on the bathroom door, waiting for a response, "Hey, you okay Tyler?" After a few moments, I'm returned with no answer, "...Tyler-" Before I can finish my sentence, Tyler swiftly pulls open the bathroom door, pulling me in and shutting the door behind me, before sitting down on the side of the bathtub. As I'm about to say something, I hear the sound of him sniffling.

...Is he crying?

He's looking towards the floor, so I can't confirm it visually, but the sound definitely gives it away.

"Whoa, what's wrong? Did something happen?" I asked worriedly, not yet choosing to bring up the argument we overheard.

There's a few seconds of silence as he tries to bring himself together, not very successfully. "I- I... I don't- I don't think I can-"

"It's fine, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," I tried to reassure him. He raises his head for a moment to look at me, trying to find words to say, instead opting to go back to crying, head in his hands. I've never been good with situations like this, so I sit down next to him, putting my hand on his upper back, softly patting.

"I'm sorry- I'm a fucking idiot. I shouldn't have asked you to come."

"Hey! I've been having fun! Don't worry about me, it seems like you're the one who shouldn't have come." I joke, in some effort to lighten the mood.

Shit, was that inconsiderate of me to say?

To my surprise, he manages to let out a light laugh, "Yeah, I'm starting to realise that."

"...Do you wanna leave, then? They know I didn't want to go here in the first place, so you could just say you're being nice and walking me home." I didn't know if he would actually take up that offer, but I know some guys have a weird thing about not wanting to seem 'uncool' and leaving a party early was definitely considered that.

He thinks for a moment, still sniffling pretty noticeably. "...okay, just- give me a minute, I don't want to go out there looking like this." He mumbles, looking towards the door.

"Yeah, that's fine." I said, continuing to rub around his neck area.

This definitely wasn't how I expected the night to go. But it was a sort of 'two-birds-with-one-stone' kind of situation. I get to help out Tyler, which is usually the other way around, I get to leave early, and hopefully Shae stops bugging me about going to parties, at least for a while.

Now that I think about it, that analogy is pretty messed up.

A few silent minutes go by as I sit next to the still-crying Tyler, waiting for him to recollect himself. Even though he hasn't actually said anything here, in the two months I've known him, this is probably the most vulnerable I've ever seen him. When I first met him, it was pretty accurate to describe him as the kind of guy who acts like he never feels emotion. Hell, even I refuse to be open about my feelings, but most of my friends see through that nowadays. Even now, I don't really understand why I do that. I guess it's just easier to not talk about shit like that? Is that why Tyler does it?

"I think I'm good now," He said, shaking his hands as he stood up.

"Okay, let's get out of this dumpster fire." I sarcastically remarked. Tyler shot me a confused look in return. "Whatever, let's just go."

I open the bathroom door, grabbing his arm as I lead him out into the main room. Almost immediately the voice of a certain black cat perks up behind us.

"Oh? And what did you two get up to in there?" Chris remarked, laughing, "I didn't know you guys were THAT kind of friends!"

God damnit. This stupid fucking feline.

"Yeah, it's too loud out here for me, I needed a break, he came with." I explained, Tyler standing closely behind me with a confused look on his face. Just roll with it, dude, I think to myself, knowing I probably shouldn't say that out loud.

"You know, I would believe that, but normal guys actually just go outside when they need a break." He replied.

"Well, hey! That's where we're going right now, so it all checks out!" I say in the bitchiest voice I can muster.

"Heh, sure thing, Jake." He said, sounding weirdly satisfied with himself. I didn't want to spend any more time in this fucking house than I needed to, especially while talking to Chris, so I continue on, pulling Tyler by the hand towards the exit. After a few moments, we make it to the front door. I promptly open it and we both head outside.

We're immediately greeted by the light of the moon and the starry sky as we head down the walkway toward the street. One of the few benefits of living in such a backwater town was the absence of any significant light pollution. I've been to Portland a few times for school field trips and such, and seeing the sheer difference in visible stars was absolutely staggering. I could only imagine what it would be like to go stargazing in the middle of nowhere.

"At least it's a nice night out." I said.

"Yeah..." Tyler replied, his mind clearly in a completely different place.

"I should probably tell Shae where we went, so she doesn't freak out trying to find us back there." I joked, pulling out my cell phone. Texting on my flip phone was an arduous task, but I didn't want to call her, so I had not much of a choice.

I send the text, and close my phone, returning it to my pocket. As we walk down the road, we stew in the silence, the only auditory sounds coming from the party still close by, and the local crickets chirping.

I won't lie, as much as I usually appreciate quiet, this is the loudest silence I've ever been stuck in. It goes on for more than five minutes. I could tell he wanted to say something, and I was eager to find out whatever was going on that started this in the first place. But, like the coward I am, I try to lighten the mood.

"Hopefully that satisfied your quota of me going to parties with you for a while, cause I do not plan on having the energy for something like that again for at least a few months." I said, awkwardly laughing. He doesn't respond, at least for a while, as he raises his hand, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "...Uhh, are you sure you don't wanna talk about it? I mean-"

"Can I tell you something?" He interrupted, his voice still cracking like it was in the bathroom.

"...Sure?" I replied, slightly confused.

"It's just that- I don't really know- like what-"

"-to say? Just think for a minute. No rush." That's what my dad always says whenever my mind spirals. I used to be really anxious, although I've been getting better at controlling my thoughts in the past few years.

When I went to text Shae a few minutes ago, my phone's clock read 9:48 PM. I'm supposed to be home at ten and we're still at least twenty minutes away, not even including the detour we'll take to get to Tyler's place. Which brings me to the realisation that, when we get to his house, I'm gonna have to walk the rest of the way home by myself, in the dark. If I get murdered by some serial killer this late at night I'm gonna fucking haunt Shae from the afterlife-

"I think I'm gay," He quickly says, his voice holding a noticeable increase in energy compared to what I've been used to tonight.

Well... can't say that's exactly what I was expecting. Was I expecting anything in particular? I honestly don't know anymore. His words took me by surprise, my brain is kind of scrambled right now. I look over at him - he's looking back at me, probably trying to gauge my reaction. I did my best to conceal any facial reaction, but it's pretty clear that my lack of a response is starting to become noticeable.

"...You... think?"

"Well, like- I don't know. I guess I've just been thinking for a while, and it makes sense... all things considered." He replied anxiously.

"That- That's great! Does anyone else know?"

"I only really realised a few weeks ago, so... no. But compared to anyone else, I probably trust you the most to not like- tell anyone?" He said, looking over at me again.

"Well, I appreciate the completely undeserved confidence you have in me," I joked, realising too late that now probably isn't the time for that, "Yeah, I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you," He replies, a genuine smile strewn across his face.

A few minutes go by as we walk down the road, absorbing the positive energy we created. Having only known Tyler for a little over two months, it definitely surprised me knowing that he trusted me more than anyone else to keep a secret like that... I mean, despite the short amount of time since I met him, I'm as close to him as I've been to Shaela for the past eight years. Maybe even closer? I barely even tell Shae about my actual problems, at least the non-surface level stuff. So yeah, I guess it makes sense that he would trust me with something so important, I know I would absolutely trust him if it were me in that situation.

"...So, do you think you're gonna tell your dad?"

He didn't say anything for a moment as he stared down at the ground beneath him, "I'll probably have to tell him soon, if he has to find out from some asshole that isn't me it'd make it ten times more difficult than if I just said it myself."

I agreed, and we let the conversation cut itself off as we finally approached Tyler's house. I followed him up the walkway and stood on the patio, making sure he actually got inside. He tries the doorknob eagerly, to no avail. Realising that it was locked, he reaches into his pocket for his key - again, to no avail.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Tyler mumbled under his breath, clearly done with tonight. All of the lights were off in the house, signalling that his dad was not awake.

"Maybe you'll wake him up if you knock? Then he can let you in."

"Nonono, he thinks I'm staying at your place! If he finds out I went to a party I'm in deep shit," He whispered.

Of course. If I had to lie to my parents, why would I expect anything different from anyone else?

"Okay, uhh... maybe we can make that lie... not a lie?" I said, sounding weirder than I'd like.

Tyler looked at me, confused for a moment, eyes widening as he realised what I meant, "I can't let you do that, I've already forced you through too much shit tonight."

"Oh, come on, of course you can sleep at my place for the night! My parents think I'm at your house right now, so I can just tell them that we both went over there early in the morning. They love you anyway, so it won't be a problem!"

He didn't move at all, still looking reluctant, "Are you sure it won't be... weird? I don't want to put you in an awkward situation cause of w- what I told you."

"Dude, that couch in my room has a hide-a-bed if you don't want to share mine. Either way, we're friends, aren't we? I trust you."

After a few moments of silence, he speaks up, "...I guess so-"

"Great, then it's settled!" I said, putting my arm around his shoulder as I led him back down the walkway.

---

Once we make it to my place, walk up the creaky wooden steps of my patio as I fish the house key out of my pocket. Tyler's standing closely behind me, looking awkward as ever, clearly not knowing what to do with his hands as he switches between putting them in his pockets and clasping them together.

I turn the key on the lock and try the door, noticing that It's completely pitch black inside the house. My parents usually go to bed at 10 PM, and it was well past that at this point. I lock the door behind us as I reach for my pocket, grabbing my phone and flipping it open to use as a barely-useful flashlight. I take Tyler's wrist as I lead him through the furniture of my living room and up the stairs. The only sounds in the house come from the soft ticking of a clock in the kitchen, the sound of which has always freaked me out whenever I'd come downstairs at three in the morning. Despite my best efforts to be as quiet as possible, the old wooden boards of the stairs prove my effort to be futile as they creak with every step. I can only hope that both of my parents have fallen asleep by now, or else they'd definitely have heard us. As I take Tyler down the hallway, walls strung with various family photos and art fit for a motel, I hear no sounds coming from the master bedroom, relaxing some of my tension.

Once we make it to my room, I breathe a sigh of relief as I turn on the overhead light, hoping my mom doesn't find out and try to lecture me in the morning, "Okay, hide-a-bed or mine, your choice!"

"Hide-a-bed." He replies.

"Sure thing, lemme show you how to set it up," I say as I remove each couch cushion one by one. The couch is sitting directly under my massive bedroom window, illuminated by the glow of the moon. Under the cushions is a black folded-up contraption, bearing a metal handle. I grab the handle and start pulling the bed out from the couch. As the first section of the bed comes out, Tyler stands next to me and helps unfold the second section, and finally the third.

I move over to open the closet door, "I have some spare pillows and blankets in here."

"So, why do you have a spare bed... thingy... in your room anyway?" He asked.

"My cousins' family came to visit from the other side of the country a few years back, so my parents made the cousins stay in my room and gave me our old couch that used to be in the living room. They were here for like two weeks, it was fucking awful," I remarked, pulling a comforter out of the closet and unfolding it out on the mattress.

"That sounds miserable," Tyler sympathized.

"It was, but hey, now I got a sick as fuck couch in my room! And it works as a great place for certain friends to sleep when they wanna spend the night," I said sarcastically, looking over at Tyler as I grabbed the pillows from the closet, tossing them to one end of the bed.

He turned his head, baffled, "Was that a dig on me?" He questioned.

"Depends on how you took it I suppose," I replied, smiling cunningly.

"You're the one who offered, dude- are you sure you didn't drink at the party? You've at least doubled your usual level of sarcasm." He retorted.

"Nope, unless somebody spiked my soda!" I joked, but the realisation slowly set in, "Oh shit- maybe someone spiked my soda?!?"

"Don't freak out, I seriously doubt someone would spike your drink,"

"God, I hope so, if my parents found out I went to that party, that'd be one thing, but if I got drunk? I doubt I'd see the outside world for months," I sighed.

"Even if you were drunk, it's not like you would still be drunk in the morning for them to find out, anyway."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I said, letting out a yawn shortly thereafter. "Fuck, I didn't realise how tired I am." Looking at my alarm clock, it was 10:37 PM. That wasn't terribly late, I've definitely stayed up later when there was an assignment due the next day that I forgot about, but even before I met up with Alex and Elliot, that party was just wearing me down. "At least I can sleep in 'till like noon tomorrow. You sure you don't need anything before I pass out from exhaustion?"

"No, I'm okay, I think. And, thank you... Jake." He replied, smiling at me.

"No problem, dude!" I quietly exclaimed as I turned off the bedroom lights and hopped into bed. I can practically feel my muscles dissolve as I lean into the mattress, pulling the heavy blankets over me as I close my eyes.

I can't help but feel something itching in the back of my brain. I never did find out why Tyler was even crying back at the party. Was it related to what he told me after? He sounded pretty upset when he was talking to whoever it was in the hallway, too, so maybe that was why? We've already talked about so much shit tonight, though, and I definitely did not have the energy to have another huge conversation about something like that. It could definitely wait until tomorrow.

Soon, I feel my consciousness drift away, the only sound I can make out being the slow breathing of Tyler, across the room.

---

As I wake up, I'm blinded by the bright sun shining in through my windows, directly into my eyes. I glance over at my alarm clock, feeling incredibly groggy and sore, noticing that it's 11:13 AM. Usually, the latest I'd sleep in on weekends was only around ten, but I guess it took a lot of my energy yesterday to try to tune the party out. At least it's over.

I slowly sit up, yawning as I lean back against the bed frame. I glanced around the room, noticing that the hide-a-bed had been folded back into the couch, Tyler nowhere to be seen. I reach over to my bedside table to check my phone, finding an unread text from him, sent a few hours ago.

Tyler: hey

woke up early, figured youd want 2 sleep in.

will call u later, might have somthin big i wanna share, will see

A pair of oddly cryptic messages. Guess that confirms he isn't here anymore.

At least it was a Saturday, meaning that I had full permission to be a slob. I get out of bed, deciding to skip my usual shower until after breakfast. Other than the snacks that were out at the party, I ate practically nothing last night. I could almost feel my stomach turning itself inside out, so I hurried out of my room and downstairs to the kitchen to have some breakfast.

The first thing I notice when I get downstairs is my mom, sitting on the couch with a book. I head straight to the kitchen, trying not to make myself stand out.

"Jake! Finally woken up, I see." She remarked, still looking at her book.

"Hey, mom!" There's a moment of silence as I grab a bowl out of the cupboard, as well as a box of cereal, and begin to pour.

She speaks up, "Your friend, Tyler, seemed to be in a hurry to leave this morning, anything I should know about?"

"...Not that I know of? Like what?" I questioned as I poured some milk from the fridge, grabbed a spoon, and sat at the kitchen counter.

"Well, it's not like we didn't notice that you weren't home by ten like your father asked you to be, so obviously you must have a good excuse for why you didn't at least call to let us know you'd be late?" She replied. I could tell when she started talking all responsible-parent-like, it meant that she was gonna lecture me about something.

I sighed, thinking of the right thing to say. "...Well, Tyler was going through some things... so I was trying to help him with that, I guess. Time just kinda flew by and I wasn't able to get home 'till later."

"So he spent the night here? Weren't you at his house?" She asked as I ate a spoonful of cereal.

"Yeah... we went out for a bit and once I noticed how late it was I offered to let him spend the night at our house since it was closer," I said. Almost entirely a lie, but definitely preferable to the truth.

"Jake..." She said, setting her book down on the coffee table in front of the couch, walking over to me, and resting a hand on my shoulder. "You're sixteen now, obviously we don't expect you to tell us everything you're up to nowadays. But we worry about you! I worry about you. Just for future reference, please let us know if you're gonna be home late or anything like that."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind," I said, looking up at her.

"Great! Now, I have to go meet a friend for lunch, please try not to burn the house down while I'm out!" She said as she grabbed her purse and keys off of the counter, hurring out the door.

"No promises, love you!" I said as she closed the door behind her.

Well, I guess that went... better than expected? I doubt she believed that story I made up, but I guess as long as I don't break curfew without telling them, I should be fine.

Having the house to myself wasn't totally uncommon. Considering my dad was gone during the day five days a week, and my mom would head out to go meet friends or run errands pretty often, I got some much needed alone time often enough to not go mad.

As I finish my bowl of cereal, I realise that I probably should go shower as soon as possible, considering the night I had. I put my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and head back upstairs. I grab a towel from my room and head into the bathroom, grabbing my various fur care products out of the cabinet for after the shower. As I turn the shower on, I hear the sound of my ringtone going off in the pocket of my pants on the floor. I sigh annoyedly, walking over and trying to figure out which pocket my phone was in. When I flip open the phone, the Caller ID reads out Tyler's name.

"Tyler! What's up?" I ask eagerly, hoping to find out what the news he cryptically texted about was.

"Jake- fuck, I messed up, I shouldn't have- what am I gonna do?" He said anxiously, sounding almost out of breath.

"Hey! Slow down, what's wrong?" I questioned.

"I'm such a fucking idiot! Why did I think this would be a good idea? Jake, I'm so sorry-"

"Tyler! Calm. Down. Just take a few deep breaths," I said. After a few moments, I can hear his breathing steadying on the other side of the call. "Okay, good. Now, what's wrong?"

There's a short pause as he tries to find the right words to say. It sounds like he's been crying. What even the fuck has been the past twenty-four hours?

"Can- do you think I could crash at y- your place for a few more nights? I don't know what to do."

[yumeqoarchived]

@tiggyybee HI SOPHIA here’s the essay💀 it’s like... 700 words i’m sorry i rlly tried to cut it short but😭

GIRL YOU REALLY MATCHED ME UP W IWA HUH 😭

ok first of all… ANALYZING MY MBTI?? that was so fun to read omg, and breaking down iwaizumi’s personality UGH (if anyone ever needs help on characterization, they could just go to ur matchups tbh) it just… its like receipts to why you guys would work, and its easier to imagine the scenarios with them

meeting iwa at the metro is so cute omg, it sounds like the beginning of the movie (and sitting next to the rest of the seijoh third years PLEASE i love them)

i TOTALLY see oikawa being the one to invite me to a game or practice

and the rest of the team teasing us?? please that’s perfect! IWAIZUMI PRACTICING HIS CONFESSION IN FRONT OF A MIRROR OMG that’s so cute 😭 a cheesy confession is all i need my heart would explode and i’d probably try my best not to laugh HA

forehead kisses… from iwa… omg i’m crying and YEs i think he would give the best hugs!! plus leaning on him on the metro is so cute! having iwa give me an outsider’s perspective of my playing would be so nice, i feel like he’d be honest and helpful without being mean. i would love to go to the arcade w iwa 🥺 i most definitely would become competitive. and fair dates omg please… IMAGINING IT RN!! also him cooking for me is PERFECT i would try my best to help him but probably be useless jksfskd

the teasing nicknames omg i would for surely call him grumpy all the time. the aus are PERFECT literally i thought about a royalty au with iwa for the longest time so hearing it from you is amazing (and like… validating omjgkfdjg also eugene!iwa i’m crying) the soulmate au is beautiful, the strangers to lovers trope is sounds like a cute romcom i love that. AND FAKE DATING I LOVE THAT SM THATS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES

the songs just make me want to make a playlist for iwa, like a soundtrack for us thank u its perfect🥺

ok the runner ups! KUROO R U SERIOUS u did this on purpose didn’t you 😭my og and go to boyfriend i- most definitely would clown me for my height and i love that. i would LOVE The science jokes bc i love science (i literally said that in the ask but i have to say it again JSAJ). teaching kuroo how to play the piano i am so soft omg (also off topic BUT IVE ALWAYS WANTED TO PLAY OBOE!! i play pic/flute but i wanted to switch to oboe for my last concert season but never got the chance to bc of quarantine 😔)

BRU FUTAKUCHI IS SO HEART EYES also please i would tease him back that would be sm fun, just playful banter 😭 also yes get a man who shows you off!! also baking with him would be such a cute and fun way to spend time together… i am thinking… manifesting…. and manifesting the arcade date with him even harder UGH watching him get frustrated sounds so funny AND GETTING HIM A TOY WITH MUCH MORE EASE WOULD BE FUNNIER

osamu bae… i’ve always tried to stay away from the twins but u really have me thinking 😭 him feeling more comfortable because of me is making me so soft please… and trying out new foods omg i’m a picky after and i feel like he would most definitely know the right foods for me to try to change that. pls osamu… cookingfor me UGH!! (LAUGHING ABT THE MICROWAVE PART JDKSDF)and yes OSAMU HUGGING ME?? his shoulder are so broad that would be perfect🥺

thank you sophia sm this was so enjoyable to read and i really appreciate all the effort you put into your matchups 🥺

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

so prompted the other day from someone commenting on one of my personal posts lamenting on my poor time management skills and how I was a good-ish student without studying etc during early high school and then by year 10 I had fuck all idea how study..... I decided to look up adhd in girls. like obviously i am not self-diagnosing myself with it bc i know that it’s a super common and serious behaviour condition. but holy fuck, i just read something about it that hit me so fucking hard that.... fuck me. i just feel so attacked:

obviously I don’t relate to the softball practice bc I never did extracurriculars and I hated sport lmao. but the writing/writer bit. and “working overtime” to get a high grade on my english assignments..... as well as over-practicing my drama stuff at home and wanting my performances to be perfect.... i was known to basically everyone as a student who should’ve been in the top English class. but it was wrested away from me bc of my lack of understanding and appreciation for shakespeare in a year 8 in class assessment on Romeo & Juliet “being starcrossed lovers” that I basically failed bc I came out with a D instead of an A or a B. like fuck. this hit me hard.

they had another point about how the girl with adhd is usually the class helper- like I was in my english classes. bc I would edit everyone’s work, be their living thesaurus & dictionary, as well as giving everyone answers on the assigned texts, because i was the only person in my class who was bothered enough to read the texts in full and enjoy them. then I never received much thanks for it.

but my maths homework? never done. or my very occasional maths take-home assignments? done by my dad at the last minute when I remembered that excel was, in fact, an actual thing. hell I didn’t even do my CLASS WORK most of the time. i instead either half wagged my maths classes (I have several posts on this behaviour lmao) or purposely “fell asleep” in my maths classes as a joke for everyone to “wake me up (wake me up inside)” like Jeff from the wiggles. bc I thought it was funny. but now I’m 24 and never (really) learned how to read a graph or learned how to calculate the mean/median and average & range and mode or whatever the fuck, etc etc. like yeah. my maths is absolutely abysmal.

my geography homework and assignments? barely ever done. and again, at the vexation of the poor kids who were assigned to sit next to me and my year 9 geo teacher who liked me, my geo class work was never done to standard. and I would pull the same “wake up Jeff” routine in geography. even though I could’ve easily done well with that year 9 teacher and my year 10 geo teacher too bc at least we also got along.

my history homework and assignments? done, depending on the teacher, the topic and the type of history. like I was useless at modern history (bc I disliked it- especially australian history lmao minus Vietnam and maybe a bit of the Cold War era spy stuff... it was the politics lmao). but, on the other hand, I was pretty good at ancient history (until I had to try and write a historical essay- and that fucked me up big time in years 11/12 and also uni). i was also mega good at aboriginal studies (like aboriginal cultural history) when I swapped schools. but I dropped out of it, due to my fear of the major project which I knew I wouldn’t meet.... bc it was literally like 50% of the total subject mark at the end of year 12.

so then my focus aside from english & ancient history in year 12 became community and family studies/cafs/social studies and my technical theatre and events management course. which both ended up with marks near the 70s, I think, at the end of year 12. my teachers were good so I went okay.

my science homework? done sometimes, depending again on the topic and the teacher.... but also that one time one teacher wanted me to go to the regional science fair bc he thought my project was good.... but I didn’t do it bc i thought my work wasn’t that good and I didn’t want to do the extra effort of the boards and presenting it.... ESPECIALLY since I’d written that coke/coca-cola was “burp fuel” in my intro. like. burp fuel??? at the regional science fair? oh god. no. no thank you. that’s mortifying both back then AND now, looking back at it. but then again, maybe that’s the part my teacher wanted me to omit in the “clean up”/editing of my work for the science fair lmao. my biology stuff in years 11/12 though? awful. so much so that I solely passed year 12 bio with the miracle of mark scaling. and this was despite the efforts of one of my friends trying to tutor me in our shared free periods.

and obvs my PE stuff was never done.... even that one assessment that was writing/illustrating a kids book about how to be healthy. which if I’d done it, I would’ve probably gone well. but it was my utter distrust of the PE/sport faculty and loathing of sport, and also the fact that when I tried to write it; it didn’t seem authentic or genuine.... that drove me not to do that assignment.

aside from academics/grades.... the other thing that hit me was that adhd girls are typically seen as the “funny/loud/tomboy” etc girls but are also exceedingly shy. like that full on attacked me too. bc it’s exactly like my flip from catholic school to public school. going from being the loud & funny sailor mouth girl who sometimes asked crass questions in PE due to the shows she watched and to see if people would laugh and did whack shit in her drama classes..... but with mostly topsy-turvy marks. to being the quiet shy and suddenly high achieving former private school girl at public school who never did any loud shit out of the blue. like. yeah. like now when I look back at my facebook statuses about me in drama class or other dumb shit I did outside of drama class in catholic school I’m like “hmmm, can’t relate” and “what the FUCK that was ME??? I don’t know her.” bc of the nervous wreck that I actually am lmao.

there was one more point to that was like “adhd boys will typically sit “with one foot on their chair in class”. and I was like. “hmmm. why does that remind me so vividly of my year 7 geo teacher/year 9 commerce teacher frequently labelling me as a “health hazard” bc I’d sit cross legged on my chairs during class????”

I also had a flashback while reading that particular article, to how, in primary school, my teachers regularly encouraged the kids who were assigned to sit beside me on table groups or whatever in class; to put a ruler between us to mark out our separate sides of the desk; so that whoever sat next to me had their own desk space and I had mine.... all bc my side was frequently unorganised/messy. that’s because when I physically handwrote things, I’d tire quickly and so slouch in my seat a bit and put my head on my other arm to write (this is my condition hypotonia/developmental coordination disorder).... so I took up a load of desk space doing that. while the other person’s side of the desk was usually neat and ordered and they obvs didn’t have my posture etc when physically handwriting something. like I’d try to have my side neat & ordered like everyone else, but it always ended up in a state of disarray somehow. like HOO BOY IT’S ALL ADDING UP.

but also yeah. I’m not self-diagnosing bc that’s such common thing on this site. but. like. yeah I need to get to a psychologist or a psychiatrist and see. because so many things are adding up and maybe I do have some overlapping traits from adhd???? bc as ive said before, my condition hypotonia/developmental coordination disorder, has some links with adhd apparently, from what I’ve read recently on it. and it’s really starting to interfere with my life bc I can’t use a diary properly etc and don’t know how to hold myself accountable with deadlines other than doing everything to the last minute until I burn out, monumentally.

anyway.

don’t reblog this please. lmao. it’s just a musing.

[pikapeppa]

Online Dating: A Tale in Six Parts

A couple years ago, I wrote a personal essay for a book project for a friend of a friend. The project leader ultimately rejected my piece because it wasn’t academic enough, to which my response was as follows:

I then promptly forgot about it. But now I’m deciding to publish it here, because why not. So here you go: an autobiographical tale of Pikapeppa’s experiences with online dating. (Please note: this is MY personal experience with online dating as a cis straight woman, and is not meant to be representative of anyone else’s experience but mine, since I can’t knowledgeably comment on that.)

************************

Online Dating: A Tale in Six Parts

Online dating has been widely vilified, especially since so many cis-heterosexual women have such gross experiences with it: unsolicited dick pics, misogynistic insults when you don’t respond immediately, seemingly nice guys who either “ghost” or suddenly become perverts in the blink of a notification.

I’m here to tell a happier story of online dating, and how it restored my faith in my social skills, my confidence in myself - and how I learned a thing or two about relationships along the way.

Part I: Intro

I’m a shy girl.

Let’s be specific. I consider myself an introvert, or an ambivert at a stretch. I have an extremely hard time talking to strangers; I loathe small talk. At parties, my quietness has a direct inverse relationship with the size of the crowd I’m in: the more people there are, the less I say, until I might as well be a piece of furniture in the corner if the party is a big one. I’m most comfortable in small groups of four people max (including myself), and even then, I get uncomfortable if I’m the centre of attention for too long. I generally prefer to listen than to talk. My ideal weekend includes one entire day for recharging at home with just Netflix and my cat for company.

In January 2012, I moved to Montreal for grad school. When I got there, I knew nobody. I’d moved to Montreal wanting a change, as I’d lived in Toronto my whole life. But somehow in my excitement to move, I’d forgotten that a) I had no friends in Montreal and b) I hate talking to strangers and I hate small talk: the two necessary evils of Making Friends. I spent a solid six months by myself, exploring the city in solitude or hanging out in my apartment with my cat, increasingly hating myself for the fact that I had been living in this city for almost a year and still had no friends except for some casual acquaintances whom I’d met at a mingling party for new grad students. I have some embarrassingly angsty journal entries whining about how there must be something wrong with me, because what kind of person can’t make a single friend in six months of living in a new city? I can’t fully express my gratitude that one of my labmates, who was finishing her Master’s degree at the time, took pity on me and invited me out for drinks, eventually becoming my first good friend in Montreal and introducing me to many other amazing women friends.

Eventually I got into my social stride in Montreal. I had friends; I was satisfyingly busy with my graduate work; and I continued to enjoy relaxing with my cat. (I could write a whole chapter devoted to my mental/emotional well-being and my cat, but let’s save that for another time, shall we?) But as my thesis was wrapping up and I started having more free time, I realized that I was ready to add to my social life. I was ready - gasp! - to pursue a romantic relationship.

This was September 2012. By then, I’d been single for about two years, and largely happy without a partner. But aside from being busy with my thesis, there was another significant reason I had not dated anyone in Montreal: I didn’t know how to meet men.

Part II: The foray into online dating

Traditionally, people meet their partners through work, through common interests, or by bumping into them in bars. I wouldn’t be meeting anyone at work because my master’s degree focused on a topic dominated by female academics, so essentially all of my colleagues were women. My interests involved typically homebody activities like movies, reading, and cooking. And my carefully cultivated Resting Bitch Face usually deterred men in bars from approaching me (as well as my pixie haircut, which I purposely got in order to weed out the kind of shallow male who “only likes girls with long hair”.) The graduate community at McGill often had mingling or speed dating events; however, see above regarding my quietness in crowds and hatred of small talk. Long story short, the traditional ways of meeting men were out.

This is where online dating came into the mix. For me, it was a logical and practical choice. I’ve never been interested in casual flings, so I figured that online dating, especially from a paid website, would have a larger number of men who were looking for something more serious. Importantly, online profiles would also provide information about interests and sense of humour, which - praise the Flying Spaghetti Monster! - would mean that small talk could be avoided, since we could talk about common interests. And there was a final reason that online dating appealed to me: I wanted to meet someone whose occupation was NOT at all similar to mine.

Now, this might be a kind of unusual criteria to express for one’s mate. After all, there is a reason that many people meet their partners at work or engaging in common interests: these things provide a common ground for conversation and for connecting. But as much as I enjoyed research and had aspirations to eventually work in healthcare, I didn’t want to date someone who did those things. After all, I had moved to Montreal looking for something new, dammit! I wanted to broaden my horizons. I wanted a partner who could be my Aladdin and show me a Whole New World.

And thus my online dating adventure began.

Part III: The adventure begins

Everyone has different experiences with online dating. I will say this: I found it really fun and interesting. Importantly, it helped me realize that my social skills, in fact, were not total crap. Within two weeks, I’d gone on dates with a handful of nice, normal-seeming men from a variety of professions. Each time, I went home pleased that I’d had a pleasant, functional conversation with a stranger, without the situation devolving into awkward silence due to my inability to talk like a normal human.

The dating experience was also an important confidence booster. When you’ve been single for two years without any hint of interest from the opposite sex, it’s easy to start thinking you’re deficient in some way. With a handful of successful dates under my belt, I was finally starting to believe that my singledom really was circumstance and not social ineptitude. It also reminded me of something else I’d forgotten during the moping self-pity of my first six months in Montreal: given the right circumstances, I actually enjoy flirting. Dates were actually kind of the perfect social situation for me: one-on-one conversation with a person who you already have things in common with, and with whom you can practice your witty repartee? After two weeks, I felt renewed, confident, and like I had choices - a lot of choices.

Part IV: Disaster strikes (in the most inconsequential first-world-problems kind of way)

Another important role that online dating had in my life was that it led to my first experience of being hurt in a relationship. Here is how it happened: I met a guy with whom I had “chemistry”. Ah, yes, chemistry: that vague, indefinable concept that, in my case, really just meant I had met a guy I was really attracted to. We went on two really fun dates, and then spent a weekend together - and I, being naive, thought I had found my next boyfriend. But a few dates later, he suddenly (and apologetically and politely) said he didn’t think we should see each other anymore.

I was frankly crushed. I’d been incredibly lucky in that by the age of twenty-something, I’d never been dumped or rejected romantically… so this experience of rejection hit me hard. I cried. I drank three beers (a lot for me!) and watched The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo with much maudlin relish. I blasted happy music to drown out my angsty thoughts, and I pow-wowed with my best friends to analyze and re-analyze everything he had said and done. And I was crushed anew when I went on the dating site again to see that he was still active. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to date; it was that he didn’t want to date me. And that really hurt.

Part IV: Wisdom

Ultimately, I’m thankful I was rejected, because I learned a lot of important lessons:

Don’t be tricked by “chemistry”! Rom-coms tell us that chemistry is the most important thing. It’s not. At all. “Chemistry” just means “immediate sexual attraction”. This is not a wise thing on which to base an entire relationship.

Rom-coms also teach us that a guy who doesn’t want a relationship will eventually come around if you are charming enough. This is not true.

Just because someone treats you nicely, doesn’t mean they want the same thing in a relationship as you. Listening to what your date is telling you - i.e. “I don’t know if I want a serious relationship” (yep, the guy who dumped me literally said this on our second date) - is very important.

Many newly single men just don’t know how to be alone, so they start online dating even if they aren’t ready for a new relationship… and they may not realize they don’t want a new relationship until after they’ve started one. The lesson here: be up-front about your relationship expectations/goals and candidly ask your dates about theirs.

Most importantly of all, I learned firsthand what it feels like for someone you want to not want you back. My taste of rejection was the briefest, most inconsequential taste - a week-long fling, compared to committed relationships or divorces. But it was enough to foster a stronger empathy for the pain of rejection and heartbreak, and I feel that this alone was absolutely worth it.

This list of lessons may sound skeptical or discouraging. But I actually found my new knowledge to be incredibly comforting. I now had a set of rules that I could use to better play the dating game - and this time, I was sure I would succeed. Armed with my newfound dating wisdom, I ventured into the world of online dating again, with a different site (a fresh start!) and a cautiously optimistic outlook.

Part V: The Artist

My second attempt at online dating, like the first, was fun. As before, I dated many nice, polite men and had pleasant, interesting conversations. And then I met The Artist.

My first date with The Artist, as I called him in those early days, was as pleasant as any first date I’d gone on. But he had this huge, uninhibited smile, and his laugh was larger-than-life and more enthusiastic than any laugh I’d heard in my life. On our second date, I told him openly that I was dating many people, but that he was my favourite so far. He smiled and nodded agreeably. On our third date, he kissed me… and without either of us saying so, we both knew our online dating careers were at an end. More than six years later, The Artist and I are engaged and living happily with our Playstation, our cat, and some gently wilting plants.

Yes, I just summarized my relationship in a single paragraph. But my goal here isn’t to wax poetic about my fiancé. It’s to point out that without online dating, I would never met him. He works in a completely different profession from mine, and at the time that we met, he lived and worked in different neighbourhoods from me. Our social circles would never have overlapped. But online dating brought us together in more subtle ways as well. My positive experiences in early dates gave me the confidence to continue dating after I got rejected. My experience of rejection led me to try a different dating website - the site that he was on. And the lessons I learned from being rejected led me to a wiser, more open approach to dating and relationships in general - an approach that The Artist appreciated. Given this analysis, I would argue that online dating doesn’t deserve the credit for my relationship, but it does deserve the credit for pushing me out of my comfort zone and giving me experiences that helped me develop into the emotionally mature, pragmatic, and confident woman who eventually captivated a similarly mature and pragmatic man.

Part VI: Conclusions and caveats

My biggest caveat is that I used online websites with paid memberships. As I mentioned earlier, I figured that people who are paying are more likely to be looking for a serious relationship, since paying requires commitment, whereas unpaid sites would have more people who were dabbling or “just curious”. I never used Tinder or Bumble, where online dating is like a game. A friend also recently suggested that I may have had such an easy time with online dating because, in her words (NOT MINE), I am “a babe”. But if you take anything away from this essay, let it be this: online dating is not all bad or all good. Like old-fashioned dating, it’s a complex phenomenon that takes on the biases and colours that you bring into it. And like old-fashioned dating, it can provide new experiences that will let you learn things about yourself - and about love, and life in general - that you didn’t know.

Don’t let online dating define your love life. Let it be a tool to learn about yourself, and maybe, like me, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

[therealandian]

Spoilery as hell essay about Tony Stark I did for my English class:

Please do not read it if you haven’t seen ENDGAME, because everything is spoiled. EVERYTHING!!!

This essay explores how Tony Stark is a tragic hero more than anything else.

The Tragedy of Tony Stark

The Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) is a titanic movie franchise spanning more than a decade with over 20 movies to its name. As a franchise based off of comic books, it has its share of wacky characters, witty one-liners, and ridiculous costumes. But as a movie franchise, it also has its share of dark, profound plot elements. One such element is the tragedy of Tony Stark.

Tony Stark is no ordinary hero. He is, as he once boldly proclaimed, a “genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist” (The Avengers). Beyond that, he is Iron Man, legendary hero in his personal weaponized suit of mechanical armor. But this is only scratching at the surface of the man who has carried the entire MCU since its infancy. During this time, he has been beaten down and betrayed, has suffered and struggled, and has been abused and ignored. Despite all of his achievements, Tony is much more of a tragic hero than he has ever been just a hero.

A tragic hero is defined in the dictionary as “a great or virtuous hero…who is destined for downfall, suffering, or defeat.” Commonly, they’re set in dramatic tragedies, such as Oedipus Rex or Hamlet. Although the MCU doesn’t quite ring true as a “dramatic tragedy,” the “hero destined for suffering” part perfectly describes Tony, who struggles against foes far more powerful than himself, only to lose a piece of himself in the process. Jennifer Wallace puts it best when she states “The source of a tragic hero's greatness is also the cause of his destruction. The overriding desire for honor that motivates tragic protagonists also results in their shame and demise” (Wallace). This also describes Tony very well; many of Tony’s enemies are of his own making, and people tend to get hurt when he takes matters into his own hands and attempts to solve the problems himself.

Almost everything that happens throughout the MCU involves the tragedy of Tony Stark in some way. He is a walking, breathing catastrophe who can barely hold himself together. He is guilt-ridden and anxiety-plagued, yet everyone still expects him to be Iron Man. When he snaps and lashes out at people, or otherwise ignores their requests for assistance, everyone tends to be surprised. One of the most clear examples comes from the most recent MCU film: Avengers: Endgame. After Tony had just returned from almost starving to death during his month-long space trip, the other Avengers immediately want to talk strategy with him. He’s still hooked up to an IV while they discuss all the things he’d predicted was coming long before they ever came to pass. He snaps at Steve Rogers, saying “I got nothin' for you, Cap! I've got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options! Zero, zip, nada. No trust—LIAR!” (Avengers: Endgame). He collapses shortly thereafter, completely, utterly defeated.

In a world of supersoldiers, monsters, aliens, and supervillains, Tony is a bit of an odd man out—he’s still human. “The Tony Stark character is memorable in that he was someone who could readily comment on the insanity around him” (“First-of-its-Kind…”), says the Targeted News Service. Rather than being a supersoldier, ultra powerful gamma monster, or highly trained assassin, Tony is just a “man in a can” (Iron Man 3). He has only his intelligence to aid his hero’s journey, and he carries the burden of it with him everywhere. In every movie after the first Avengers film, Tony struggles with the knowledge that something like the attack on New York will happen again (Iron Man 3; Avengers: Age of Ultron). His greatest fear is losing everything because he failed to do enough, and it shows the most in his most vulnerable moments. Even worse, his fears become reality before his very eyes (Avengers: Infinity War).

Further setting the burden of tragic heroism on Tony’s shoulders is the sheer amount of villains he’s created. Justin Hammer, Ivan Vanko, Aldrich Killian, Ultron, and Adrian Toomes are all directly linked to Tony and his bad decisions. Killian is ignored by Tony completely after he makes a promise to meet him, Hammer attempts to replicate the Iron Man armor for military use and personal gain, Vanko gets Tony’s personal advice on how to make his weapons more efficient, Toomes loses his job because of Tony’s handling the aftermath of Loki’s attack on New York, and Ultron comes into existence because Tony let his fears control him (Iron Man 3; Iron Man 2; Spiderman: Homecoming; Avengers: Age of Ultron).

Tony’s ego is certainly one to blame, but so is his carelessness. He often lets the situation dictate his response, rather than forcing his actions to dictate the situation. In other words, Tony is a reactionary character. This can be seen best in Captain America: Civil War (CA:CW), when he reacts to the death of his parents, and in Avengers: Age of Ultron (AoU), when he experiments with Loki’s scepter to streamline the creation of Ultron.

Tony also faces two life-shattering betrayals and several smaller ones, further placing him in the “tragic” category. In his debut movie, Iron Man, he learns that the terrorist group called the Ten Rings was hired to kill him by Obadiah, his trusted friend and mentor. Obadiah later paralyzes Tony and physically rips out the one thing that keeps him alive—his arc reactor. Tony manages to survive on an older model, but is almost killed in the ensuing battle. He even resigns himself to death and forces his personal assistant to blow the reactor beneath them. He fortunately survives, but his former friend does not (Iron Man). In this movie, not only does he survive a torturous three months in Afghanistan, but he comes back to almost immediately die at the hand of one of his closest friends.

In CA:CW, Tony learns that his parents were murdered by Bucky Barnes, who is unfortunately standing next to him at that time. He’s understandably distraught, but becomes enraged when Steve reveals that he already knew about the murder and never told him. This moment is especially ironic given Steve’s line in AoU, when he tells Tony in frustration that “sometimes my teammates don’t tell me things” (Avengers: Age of Ultron). Tony attacks the pair, who proceed to nearly beat him to death. At one point, Steve rips off Tony’s face mask, then stabs his arc reactor with his shield. They then leave him, beaten and alone in Siberia, with Steve having chosen one friend over the other. Tumblr user @teamsharoncarter notes that “Tony Stark lifted up his arms, covering his face when Steve was going to hit him with the shield, subtly showing that Tony is used to anyone he trusted to betray him and try to kill him” (“Tony Stark…”). While this point could be debated as mere headcanon, it is true that Tony is betrayed often. It’s fascinating to see a side-by-side comparison of Tony’s facial expression when he discovers the two major betrayals.

Tony also deals quite a bit with mental illness. It becomes most prevalent in Iron Man 3 (IM3), and looms on the sidelines in other movies. Given at the start of IM3, he has been kidnapped and tortured (Iron Man), has nearly died of radiation poisoning (Iron Man 2), and has flown a nuclear missile into a wormhole to kill an alien army with no hope of surviving (The Avengers), it’s a wonder PTSD isn’t a major topic prior to it. Much of IM3’s secondary plot revolves around Tony’s mental state post-Avengers, and he never quite resolves it. Later on, he begins a multi-million dollar project to help “clear traumatic memories” by recreating them in a pseudo-physical format and altering them as the user wishes (Captain America: Civil War).

Tony tries again and again to do the right thing, yet he somehow makes everything worse in the process and loses something very dear to him. These attempts and subsequent failures are the most telling mark of his tragic heroism. He saves his life with the arc reactor, but it winds up poisoning him with radiation (Iron Man 2). He enters the clean energy market to make up for his company’s history of weapons contracting, only for his building to be partially destroyed during the Battle of New York (The Avengers). He tries to be better to his girlfriend, only for her to be kidnapped and tortured after their home is blown up because he ditched someone on a roof in 1999 (Iron Man 3). He tries to build a peacekeeping A.I., but it turns murderous and tries to drop a city out of the sky to wipe out humanity. He winds up losing much of his certainty, Bruce Banner, and J.A.R.V.I.S., his personal A.I. based on a childhood friend (Avengers: Age of Ultron). He signs the Sokovia Accords to try and redeem himself, but according to Rogers, it is the moment he signs it that he destroys the team (Captain America: Civil War). He tries to retire from being a hero and settle down, but he winds up lost in space with half the universe disappearing from existence because someone wanted to spare his life (Avengers: Infinity War).

It is rather fitting that when Ultron asks him if he’s come to confess his sins, he answers with “I dunno, how much time you got?” (Avengers: Age of Ultron).

Yet no one stops him from doing anything, and it often ends in disaster. And then when he tries to right these wrongs later on, his former teammates turn on him and abandon him in the cold of Siberia, halfway beaten to death by two supersoldiers. His contributions to the team and efforts to protect it are overlooked and forgotten the moment he signs the Sokovia Accords. Clint Barton says “you better watch your back on this guy. Chances are he's going to break it” (Captain America: Civil War), despite having fought alongside him only a year before during AoU. Even Tony’s plan to take the fight to Thanos, rather than returning to Earth, backfires and results in the loss of the Time Stone to the Mad Titan (Avengers: Infinity War).

All this being said, there is no denying that Tony is a hero. Incredibly, despite everything he goes through, he still keeps being Iron Man. As pointed out by Marvel Comics editor Axel Alonso, “he perseveres because of his winning combination of brains and heart” (”Iron Man Insider”). Tony himself even proclaims “I shouldn't be alive, unless it was for a reason...I just finally know what I have to do. And I know in my heart that it's right...there is the next mission, and nothing else” (Iron Man).

In almost any story that’s called a tragedy, the protagonist(s) dies at the end. Take, for example, Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, and The Fall of Icarus. Unfortunately for Tony Stark, this trope still applies. The final nail in the coffin for Tony’s tragic-yet-heroic narrative is his battle against Thanos in Avengers: Endgame. After having survived wave after countless wave of attacks against both himself and his planet, Tony is forced to make the ultimate sacrifice, despite having finally achieved all but one of his goals throughout the MCU: “Peace in our time” (Avengers: Age of Ultron; Avengers: Endgame).

Despite everything, though—all the pain, suffering, torment, betrayals, and losses—he keeps getting up and coming back to fight the bad guys in a bid to make the world a better place. And perhaps this is the most tragic part about him. It’s not that he keeps losing, it’s that he keeps believing that someday, somehow, he’ll get his happy ending. And now that we know how Tony’s character arc ends, we also know that he never truly finds it.

Works Cited (for things that aren’t the movies)

“First-of-its-Kind Course to Examine ‘Universe’ of Cinematic Storytelling, Perspectives in Ongoing Marvel Films.” (2014, Sep 16). Targeted News Service.

“Iron Man Insider.” Discover, vol. 34, no. 4, May 2013, p. 23. EBSCOhost.

@teamsharoncarter. “Tony Stark lifted up his arms, covering his face when Steve was going to hit him with the shield, subtly showing that Tony is used to anyone he trusted to betray him and try to kill him.” Tumblr, http://teamsharoncarter.tumblr.com/post/144019313080/tony-stark-lifted-up-his-arms-covering-his-face.

Wallace, Jennifer. (2012). “The Tragic Paradox.” Comparative Drama, 46(4), 545-548,581.In almost any story that’s called a tragedy, the protagonist(s) dies at the end. Take, for example, Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, and The Fall of Icarus. Unfortunately for Tony Stark, this trope still applies. 

[basketcase789]

Written in the Stars IV

“Handwriting is more connected to the movement of the heart.”

- Natalie Goldberg

Group: BTS

Member: RM

Genre: soulmate au

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

You were working hard on your assignments and other homework, but Namjoon was always there at the back of your mind.

It was getting harder and harder to stay away from him, you were finding. Not only was he easy on the eyes, he had a kind personality too. He was always thinking of others before himself. You felt butterflies in your stomach recalling the day of your hangover and how he had stuck behind after class to make sure you were okay. Not to mention his smile brightened up your week just by seeing it.

You were struggling with your poetry class assignment. You had no problem completing it - no, the topic wasn’t the problem. There was just no way you could submit a handwritten copy and let Namjoon find out you were soulmates. But you were afraid of the consequences if you didn’t follow his instructions. He would likely dock your grade for it.

You debated asking your roommate to hand write the assignment out for you. That would solve the issue - you would submit a handwritten assignment, and Namjoon wouldn’t know the difference. But your roommate was busy enough with her own midterm assignments and exams. You couldn’t ask her to take the time to write yours out for you. Not to mention it would require you having to explain the whole situation to her.

You had two copies of your assignment laid out in front of you. The first was your original handwritten one, and the other was a typed document that you had printed.

On the day the assignment was due you packed both copies into your bag, unsure of which you would submit in the end.

You arrived to the classroom, and you were surprised to find a woman sitting at Namjoon’s desk at the front of the room.

When class was scheduled to start, she stood and handed out a sheet to everyone. “I am a colleague of Professor Kim. He will be in shortly, but first we’re asking you to fill out an assessment sheet. Professor Kim is applying for tenure, and we are conducting his annual review. Please take your time to fill out the form thoughtfully. We ask that you do not fill out your name and instead leave it anonymous.”

You began answering the questions, leaving good reviews of course. He’d been an excellent teacher thus far, always having his students’ success as his top priority.

You weren’t too concerned about someone in the faculty putting two and two together that your handwriting was the same as Namjoon’s - the odds of it getting noticed amongst all the other forms was slim.

After all the papers had been submitted and the woman left, Namjoon entered the room.

“I hope you all left me positive comments,” he said with a chuckle. If you weren’t mistaken, he seemed a little unsure of himself. It was a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanour, but then it was gone as quickly as it came. “Alright, today’s the day, everyone. Please hand in your midterm assignments.”

You opened up your bag and stared at the two essays you’d prepared.

Namjoon was trying to become a tenured professor. Of course he would, you thought to yourself. It was probably every professor’s goal.

Having a soulmate who was a student would definitely complicate things for him. If he found out about you, you were sure the faculty would also find out eventually. You could only keep things secret for so long. Then what would happen to his chances of getting tenure?

You reached into your bag and pulled out the typed up copy. You couldn’t burden him with knowing the truth, even if it was at the cost of your grade for this assignment. As you added your essay to the pile of papers, you only hoped he didn’t make future assignments with the requirement to be handwritten as well.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip nervously. It had been a week since you handed in your assignment and you were dying to know your grade. How many points had Namjoon deducted for failing to meet his handwritten condition? Considering how lenient he had been to you signing the attendance sheet instead of printing, you assumed - hoped - it wouldn’t be too serious.

You had to sit through the entire next class, until he finally returned assignments at the very end.

“If you have any questions, feel free to come see me during my office hours to discuss. I’ll see you all next week.”

You took in a deep breath before looking at your grade. You’d really worked hard on the essay, going very in depth about your appreciation for Namjoon’s father’s works. You only hoped your grades reflected the quality of content, and not how it was delivered.

You flipped your assignment over and were met with a 0/100.

You felt like your world was crashing down around you. You’d never gotten a zero in your whole academic career, and you hadn’t even considered the possibility of getting a zero on this essay. You tried to do a mental calculation of what the best grade was that you could now achieve in this class… what percentage of your final grade was this assignment worth again? If you got a poor grade in this class overall, how many points would your GPA go down?

You’d have to make Namjoon reconsider your grade somehow. Or else you could kiss your scholarship goodbye.

A few days later you’d had enough time to calm down and come up with a game plan. Your heart was racing the entire walk to Namjoon’s office - what if you weren’t able to convince him to give your essay another shot? You’d lose your fully funded scholarship and you’d have no choice but to get a job. But working would significantly affect your academic performance, you were certain. Not to mention you wouldn’t have time to do volunteer work in the community, which was something highly valued by the school. How were you going to make a good impression on the professors who could potentially help your career in the future like that?

You’d worked your ass off too hard for it all to crash and burn like this.

Upon arriving, the door to Namjoon’s office was shut and you could hear men’s voices from within, so you waited in the hallway outside. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you could clearly hear everything they were saying.

“We’ve concluded your annual review, Namjoon. Unfortunately at this time we cannot grant you tenure.”

“Can you at least tell me why this time? I got my degree at this very school, and I’ve been teaching and contributing to the school ever since. I’ve been publishing research papers and-”

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I know you’re trying to follow in your father’s footsteps and become tenured. He was a good man, and highly respected by the university. But at this time... it’s just not possible. My advice? Continue using your good looks to promote student enrollment and try again next year.”

The door to the office opened, and a man you recognized as the dean of the Arts faculty stepped out. You gave him a friendly nod, despite your disbelief of the words you’d just heard coming from his mouth, and he left.

The office door remained open, and you hesitantly glanced inside. Namjoon was facing the window at the back of his office with hands on his waist, head lowered.

“Namjoon?” you said.

He turned around, and once spotted you he offered a small smile.

“Is this a bad time?” you asked, knowing full well it was, but still needing to discuss your grade.

“It’s a good a time as any I suppose.” He sat down at his desk with a sigh and motioned to the empty chair in front of him. “I’m assuming you’re here to talk about your paper?”

You sat down, placing your bag on your lap. “Why did you give me a zero? Was the content not strong enough? My sources-”

“Your grade reflects the fact your paper didn’t meet the requirement of being handwritten, as laid out in the assignment instructions.”

“I recall you once saying yourself it’s okay to break the rules sometimes,” you countered.

He let out a chuckle and leaned back in his chair. “Not on an assignment.”

“Then what did you mean?” you said, feeling frustration overcome you. He was sitting there laughing while your world was falling apart. “Why does it matter whether it was handwritten or not? Our work should be graded based on the final product and not the means it was delivered, shouldn’t it? I followed every other requirement down to a T. Was my essay not up to your standards?”

“I didn’t read your essay, to be honest. I saw it was typed and appropriately gave it a zero.”

“But why does it matter?” You could feel the beginnings of tears in your eyes.

He leaned forward and folded his hands on the desk. “Do you know how many students I’ve taught who’ve tried to make it look like they were my soulmate? Too many to count. I had one student who went so far as to copy my writing and turn it into a font, typed out a document and pretended she had written it to prove we should be together. All to get a better grade. And I believed her at first. That’s why I have students print their name on the attendance sheet, and why I make assignments that require them to be handwritten. So I know the truth from the very start.”

“But I’m not trying to prove anything.”

“Aren’t you?”

He’d caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks burn. From his perspective, your not following his rules would make it look like you were stringing him along. Being a tease and leading him on.

He glanced away, before saying, “I won’t change my mind about your grade.”

Before you could make more of a fool of yourself, you reached into your bag and grabbed the original handwritten copy of your essay that you’d brought along with you. You tossed it onto his desk. “How about now?”

And you ran from his office before you could see his reaction.

[dumbbitchfrommars]

OH MY GODDDDDDD!!!!!!

I was doing so well dodging any feelings for any of the men in my internship position, which are EVERYONE by the way, the only other woman who worked there just left after me meeting her for like 1 week. its easy when theyre all either way too old or married with kids, and ive fallen into an easy little father/daughter dynamic with them all. but one, oh no, one, he is just a little too young, young enough to be someone id go for. and given my thing for older men, this is DANGEROUS. hes got a girlfriend too which makes it so much worse. im tryna be respectful and stay in my lane, but hes so funny and compatible with me, but in reality hes just compatible with everyone and is the sweetest and funniest person so naturally, and intelligent, and ugh. im falling in love. jk hes not that great he joked about doing literal blackface but omg apart from that he has this childlike personality that i adore, and so chill and laidback and actually funny. but also so unfunny but in a wholesome i dont care and i know its not that funny, like a dads humour, and safe and ugh. wow. that is a lot for someone who told herself she wouldn’t get any feelings. 

anyway i dont think i have feelings. maybe a little. i think hes just so nice and wholesome. maybe just restoring my faith in men a little. like hes just such a short king. changing my opinion on short men, cause stupid fucking scorpion was an idiot in an idiots body (lol) anyway he may have been tall but he had no personality nor any balls or courage or confidence, meanwhile this short king (my new nickname for him in my head) has such a strong presence in a room, in a conversation, and he’s an aries like me! his birthday is only 2 days after mine. he acts so young but also so old. idk. just ideal. i think ive found my ideal type, personality wise. its not him, he has his person. im not stupid either, he wouldnt like me. but hes the blueprint. its crazy though, his height. i think he could even be shorter than me. like so short. but you wouldn’t be able to tell. his eyes though, he looks like he never sleeps. how?! do you sleep? im lowkey like, should i be worried? but hes like functioning which i guess is all that matters. also,... oh yeah. his beard. he looks perfectly aged. men truly age like fine wine (sometimes). i love older men! hahahahahahha my god im fucked. but a girl wants what a girl wants ya feel. i wonder what trauma fuelled this trait of mine. anyway on to the next one. wish me luck tomorrow in the freezing 6am start

okay imma just continue in this post so its not a spam of me frothing over older men. so i was struggling to walk up some dodgy stairs and he literally GAVE ME HIS HAND and helped me walk up them cause i was wearing huge gumboots that i was about to trip myself up in. im sure that was breaking some kind of rule of how to act professional with interns but oh well. ugh im so obsessed now. no man my age would be brave enough to do that. its like they arent intimidated by me, or my anti-social-ness. its nice. its nice to not feel the weight of responsibility to make everyone else feel comfortable for once. 

theres also another guy who i think might be the youngest of all of them there, hes so sweet and cute and complimented my ESSAY HE READ MY FRIGGIN ESSAY who fyi had someone else send it to him, i sent it to the other guy that i met on my first day of fieldwork and is literally the dad of the whole team, and he somehow got it off him>! ive never even spoken or been properly introduced to this guyy and hes reading my words and thoughts about a topic that im so passionate about (the ocean, climate change and how it will affect biodiversity) and he went as far as to tell me it was GOOOOOD!!!!!! Also it was funny how he called it my “thesis” babes it was barely even 2k words i wouldnt consider it a thesis but i love that you would ugh im in love. thats all i need, someone to minutely compliment me and my heart is yours. lol. this entire experience of doing an internship, its truly changed my life. i have such a newfound perspective of men (crazy!) and myself, what i want out of life, how to treat people, idk . theres nothing competitive about these guys. they know theyre strengths, theyre not insecure, they support one another. and theyre happy to teach me, and genuinely want to help me succeed too. like, i really didnt think it was possible to find that after being let down by people so often. but its possible. i just wasnt looking in the right places. this has been such a massive rant. 

[gaybluesargent]

i havent read the raven cycle books in a while and ive forgotten.. what is so bad about gansey's parents?

i’m sorry this took so long, anon!! i have… so very many thoughts about this. so. cracks my knuckles. Here We Go. an incomplete analysis of why gansey’s parents suck, under a readmore because it turned into a book report:  

they allowed gansey to travel the world entirely by himself at thirteen years old.

“Of all the places Gansey had attended boarding school — and he’d attended many in his four years of underage wandering…” - trb, ch12

gansey is seventeen, so four years of wandering puts him at thirteen. thirteen!! thirteen is not old enough to travel the world by yourself in even the best circumstances. and gansey was not in the best circumstances. which leads me to my next point:

they allowed gansey to travel the world entirely by himself while he was extremely unwell. 

by the time he met malory, he’d already been traveling for years, and this was the shape he was in:

“Got screaming nightmares over it — he had to get his own place, since I couldn’t sleep with it, as you might well imagine. Sometimes these fits would happen during the day, too. We’d just be toddling through some riding path in Leicestershire and next thing I knew he’d be on the ground clawing his face like a mental patient.” - bllb, ch30

his parents either didn’t notice this behavior or ignored it, because there is no way a boy this debilitated by his trauma and anxiety should be set free to roam the world with no support. and there was no support, because:

there were months (or more) where they had no idea where he was. 

“Just gone,” Malory said. “After that, his family called me sometimes, trying to find out where he’d gone.”

“His family?” She felt like she was being told a story about a different person.

“Yes, I told them what I could, of course. But I didn’t really know. It was Mexico before he came to me, then Iceland after, I think, before the States. I doubt I know the half of it still. He picked himself up and moved so easily, so quickly. He had done it so many times before England, Jane, and it was old hat to him.” - bllb, ch30

that means they kept in touch so little and gave him so much financial freedom that they couldn’t find out where in the whole world he had gone. yeah, like, gansey made the decision to go off the radar, but the fact that he, as a child, was able to go missing on this scale is extremely negligent of his parents. 

i think all of that is enough to find the ganseys shitty, but wait, there’s more! because there’s a whole emotional side to this that plays a big role in Who Gansey Is.

the ganseys are politicians. 

not just in their careers, but as people. they are concerned with Appearance more than anything else. 

there’s a lot in gansey’s introspection that gets into this — like, the entire concept of his President Cell Phone persona and the reoccurring theme of disconnect between how gansey feels and how he’s perceived — but i think this bit from trk is pretty telling: 

He remembered thinking that it would only ruin the party by reappearing covered with hornets. - trk ch53

you don’t think this way as a terrified child unless you’ve had guilt taught into you. unless your family has made it clear that your pain is less important than their convenience. 

and that crops up a lot with gansey. this idea of his feelings being inconvenient to those around him, and of his feelings being less important than everyone else’s. sure, it’s tied up in his privilege, but it’s also a classic symptom of the kind of repression and compartmentalization that comes from growing up in a family that doesn’t value your emotional wellbeing. 

and i think there’s a good example of that, after gansey misses the fundraiser:

I know you have your own life, his mother said to his voicemail. I was just hoping to be part of it for a few hours. 

[Helen’s] only text had come at the end of the night: I suppose the king will always win, won’t he? - trk, ch58

this is.. emotionally manipulative. maybe not intentionally, but it is. and gansey has lived his whole life like this — having things Expected of him and then being guilted when he can’t live up to it. and the running implication under it all is that he is Wrong for prioritizing the thing that matters most to him, which is doubly damaging since that thing is the obsessive pursuit of a resolution to his unbelievable and unacknowledged childhood trauma. trauma for which he has never gotten any help. that is all unforgivably isolating. 

and i think part of what makes this all so insidious is that it’s easy to miss. because it’s never rude, never mean, never outright. the ganseys don’t seem like an emotionally dysfunctional family. they don’t fight, they don’t yell, they don’t cry. they love each other, or they think they do. but that’s because of things like this:

And Dick Gansey II had let his son know that if he couldn’t hack it in a private school, Gansey was cut out of the will. 

He’d said it nicely, though, over a plate of fettuccine. - trb, ch12

and

Gansey despised raising his voice (in his head, his mother said, People shout when they don’t have the vocabulary to whisper)… - trb, ch38

they’re nice. they’re proper. but they’re definitely not good. they want gansey to be Perfect, which means ignoring all the parts of him that they find flawed and inconvenient. which means depriving him of emotional support and limiting their relationship with him to what is Expected and what is Useful. which means that, when he can’t meet those Expectations and Uses, he is a failure. 

and i think that leaves marks all over his character. you can see it in his desperation to mean something, to be worthy of being saved. in how he constantly represents himself in ways that conflict with his Richard Campbell Gansey The Thirdness (like the Pig, Monmouth, and his journal, all things that are broken and chaotic and messy). in his deep desire to be Known and Understood by the people around him. 

i don’t think gansey really understands the way his family has shaped these parts of his personality, so the narrative doesn’t really call explicit attention to it. but there are places where it’s clear how far away he feels from the very idea of his family: 

He was full of the restless, dissatisfied energy that always seemed to move into his heart after he visited home these days. It had something to do with the knowledge that his parents’ house wasn’t truly home anymore — if it had ever been — and something to do with the realization that they hadn’t changed; he had. - trb, ch33

they never made a spot for him in their home, or at least, not a spot where he was ever actually able to fit. so gansey left and found one for himself, in his friends and in henrietta and in glendower. 

there is So Much More — i could comb through the books and write a 500 page dissertation on this topic, lol — but i’m gonna leave it here. tldr, gansey’s parents are neglectful and emotionally isolating, and that has had a serious negative impact on how gansey conceptualizes himself.

[if you want More on the subject, i know kate @czarrish has lots of good posts like this one! & big thank you to @arielmagicesi​, @pnrrish, & @wishingstardust​ for helping me find various things for this Essay! i rly appreciate it!]

[magicalgirlpropaganda]

Things that are hot and sexy (because i do them)

• being unable to cite sources no matter how long you spend on it or how long you try

• getting a boost of motivation to work but on the wrong thing

• actually don't mind doing school work and have a thirst for knowledge but hate failure and not having time to finish assignments

• "wow i can't believe i finished all my assignments for the week! So fast. I have time to study and actually perfect my work and get better grades" *gets more assignments* *cries*

• i can't meet my own high standards

• being so stressed because of mom that i have horrible mood swings and im in a constant state of rage and anxiety

• being relieved when my friends invite me to do things because then i see it as an obligation and im "forced" to go (even though they'd understand if i said no, i see it as an obligation for my own mental wellbeing)

• wanting desperately to help others but struggling to even take care of yourself

• i can do the work, i can handle the workload. But i can't handle the pressure of my mom checking my grades

• i know that I'm smart and i know that I can do it. Ive been working so hard and my work is paying off but i need my mom to trust me

• overeating due to stress and went on an etsy shopping spree. Had to force myself to stop "stress buying" stuff and "stress eating"

• my dumb little passion project went on hiatus because im busy. Which is fine but a bit dissapointing

• i love it here. I don't want to leave. I love the art program. The work is a lot but i love my classes and my friends and my life here. What if one day something horrible happens and i have to leave because its too expensive?

• everything in my life is going good but my mom stresses me out so much that it's no longer going good

• I'm sorry for being incompetent... Even on my medicine. I am much better off than before and i can actually think but. I can't focus and i often miss intructions on assignments unless i write down absolutely everything. Why am i like this?

• my high empathy problems are coming up again because im so emotional.

• i am fine on 6 hours of sleep a night now but i wonder how long that will last. I don't have enough time to sleep for 8 hours every night. And maybe its because i take too many breaks but if i dont take breaks, i can't focus and everything just because thoughts that don't make sense

• im so stressed. Please just let me get my work done. All i ask is to be able to just sit down, relax, get my work done. I want to do so well on the exam later this week that I bump my B to an A or just even a high B.

• at least i enjoy school. High school and before was... Much worse. I don't enjoy spending hours trying to find out how to cite very specific topics and i dislike that one of my professors is a big perfectionist and so i often lose points on assignments (everyone does) no matter how hard i try to make it perfect. And i dislike having to check canvas so often because its difficult to navigate and i swear they try to hide assignments from us. And i hate that i have so much work that some weeks i wonder if i can possibly get it all done. And i hate group projects and i hate writing boring essays. But i love my classes at least. And i want to do well. I will do well. I am going to make all A's if it kills me. I was a B/C student in high school with occasional A's. If i just studied more (i never studied), i could have been one of the best students there, i believe. I didn't study, but I'm glad I didn't because it didn't matter as long as I got ok grades and I passed. I enjoyed my youth (not that im not still young...not that those years weren't the worst). But now i have to make A's or at least high B's because I know i can and I have to prove to my mom that I can do it. Maybe if i get good enough grades, she will back off some. Then I can prove to her that i really don't need her "help".

• this is way too specific of a list

• i want a job. If only i had time for a job. I have a strong work ethic. Im a good little capitalist slave. Please give me mone- i mean. Work. Yeah... Work...

But I dont have time for a job. Im very thankful that i dont need one. But I need to grow up and get a job because it will help me in the future

• speaking of which....a job i applied for months ago just called today... A lite late, buddy. Im 2 hours away now.

• but god... I so want to work there. I hear its a great place to work and the owner is gay (aka, not going to be homophobic to me)

• i wish i had my suitemate/neighbor's life. Like loudly talking on the phone and slamming doors as loud as possible all day long? And she's an RA so she gets paid.

• im calling my mom soon and getting this shit over with. Also i have somewhere to go with friends tonight so we can kidna- i mean recruit ppl for the theatre club. Im no theatre person but i am there for my friend and to make props.

• i can't do it.

• but if i do this, ill be free....

• maybe a quick meditation beforehand. Maybe self hypnosis so i can emotionally numb myself for a few minutes... Idk if im experienced enough to do that yet... But I've been doing it for years so might as well give it a try

• have i really resorted to self hypnosis to deal with the stress of calling my own mother?

• am i really so weak that even though everything is going well, something as simple as my mom calling to check my grades once a week makes me so upset that I cry almost every day about it?

• i know what she is doing is not legal. But what can I do about it?

• my mom thinks that im incompetent as well. That's why she checks my grades. She thinks I can't do it. She didn't even think that I had the ability to live by myself. I proved her wrong there.

• im working so hard partly because of her. So why does me working hard and thus not having time to call make her upset?

• it will all be over by tomorrow.

• perhaps calling her on the phone in a public space would be better. Maybe if she realizes that im not just in my dorm....

Luckily, my mom cares a little too much about social norms. She's used against me this all my life but perhaps it could be beneficial to me.

•thats right. I can just pack my stuff i need for my work. Then ill meditate for a bit and take a tea break. Ill go take everything to a public place with lots of people and call her then.

• i don't want to bring my friends into this, it wouldn't be right. But i wish that they would just sit next to me while I was on the phone. For emotional support at least. But i wouldn't ask them to do that, especially since we haven't known each other long. But i think it would make everything better if i had someone else to back me up

• people must be sick and tired of these posts. Im sorry.

• my mom says she's proud of me, but she doesnt act like it. She used to trust me. When i was 16/17, she would say that its up to me, my responsibility, that I knew what I was doing. Now, im 18. Why does she no longer trust me? I am an adult now. It doesn't make sense. I'm more responsible than I was at that age and im an adult now. It doesn't make sense at all, shouldn't she trust me more?

• i check my own grades religiously. Why is it necessary for her to do so too? What does that accomplish?

• i have an A, 2 almost A's, 2 low B's (but i know i can get the grade up and im studying hard to do so) and one C (it was an assignment that everyone did poorly on and another homework assignment that i did poorly on because I was exhausted). I know a C is bad but it's my drawing class. My favorite class. I do well in there and i think I'm probably one of the better peforming students in there. The C was just a small mistake and since we have more work in there now, getting that grade up will not be difficult. But i feel like all of my hard work just doesn't matter anymore. It will not satisfy her either way. Even if I had all A's, she would probably still be upset that I didn't have high enough A's. One of my professors says that she doesn't give A's on projects because "mistakes happen in art and you have to accept it".

• heavy workload... Im fine doing it but... I can't do it well with the amount of time I'm given. If i just had the weekend as well and not just the rest of the week. If i had just one full day more.

• this weekend will probably be dedicated to next week's work if i can do it early

• i can't call her. It's too stressful.

• im lightheaded just thinking about it

• i have every right to be angry. I have every fucking right to be angry.

• my day should revolve around schoolwork and studying. My weekends should revolve around taking breaks and light workloads. But every moment of every day revolved around my mom instead.

• and to think... If i lived in a place where college wasnt so expensive... Perhaps she would leave me be. Perhaps my grades would be so much better and perhaps I would be happy.

[inkofamethyst]

June 4, 2021

[June 3, 2021]

Oof okay so first of all I wrote out a pretty long tumblr post that I’ve just about scared myself into not posting.  It might come out later this week?  It’s another one of those unstructured, barely comprehensible essay-like entries.  @/Future!Nina, take a guess on what the main topic is lol (and if you’re reading through these... I cannot bring myself to recommend that you read that post.  as a matter of fact, skip it altogether,, thank (I assure you, there is nothing to learn about my current mental state in that entry.  It’s just me talking in circles.  Starts out, you think there’s going to be a plan, but there is no plan, I just keep going though)).  The plan had been to post it yesterday, then today, but ehhhhhh.  I keep going back in to edit and add and remove.

Anyway I got my floral fake tattoos!!  I put a few of them on last night (one on my wrist, one next to my collarbone, and one on the back of my shoulder) and the one on my wrist is already, like 1/4 rubbed off lol.  Lowkeyyyy kinda feelin pretty swanky tho.  Can’t wait to do my sleeve!

[Today]

Meant to post that yesterday, but it’s okay!  Updates: the long essay thing will probably be posted some other time soon idk.  Most of the tattoos had rubbed off so I just went and took them all off.  Sleeve up next sometime soon!

Okay!  Today was a really cool day!!  This was a really cool week!!!!!

So I started by watching Critical Role C2E140 with my dnd-friend over the course of Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons, then we watched the first half of e141 (the c2 finale!!!!!) live on Thursday night and the second half during the rebroadcast today.  It was a total of 7 hours and 15 minutes and it was all so great and I loved the ending a lot.  I’m really really glad I got to watch it live with my dnd-friend.  Definitely one of our best ideas yet.  Hopefully C3(!!) starts during the summer so we could at least watch e1 together, but not at the expense of Matt feeling like he needs to rush out an all new campaign or the other cast members feeling like they need to move on so quickly from characters they’ve known and loved for three years.  A bittersweet ending, but emphasis on the sweet because [spoilers] THEY TOOK DOWN ICKY THONG AND IVE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER.

Then directly after watching the end of the rebroadcast, I decided to join the Discord group for a powerpoint night where of course I put a ton of effort into what very well could have been a low-effort thing, but I had a ton of fun making it super special and it seemed like everyone enjoyed it!  (Also,,, everyone else’s were so much fun?  11/10 do want to powerpoint again)  Then we just chatted for two hours or so and screwed around with Zoom filters (Discord’s screenshare is a bit less robust) which was also fun!

So, yeah.  Yeah.  We’ll get back.  I’ll make it back.  I’m not going to scrutinize what I did because there was no visual indication that I did anything wrong, much the opposite, actually.

So, as far as social encounters for the week: extremely positive!!

Also!  Tried out my AirPods over the past few days and they’re a joy I tell ya.  No more shall I feel as though I want to break a plate every time my headphone wires get caught on a handle somewhere.  I am free.  Now I need to find a nice case for them lol.

Finally, finished out my first week of my internship, and wow.

Alright.  I’m going to come out and say it: a huge part of me is upset that I’m not in [redacted: major US city] for the internship this summer.  It legitimately sucks.  I am actually super unhappy over it, and I don’t want to pretend or ever give off the impression that this situation is in any way fine by me.

That said.

Found out the statistics for the program overall: 500 applicants for ~20 spots.  Inflated my ego, that did.

Anyway, on Thursday (yesterday), I had separate lecture meetings with my two project leads, and I felt so in my element????  Like, with the Male PI, I got a lecture (somewhat interactive) which was mostly a reintroduction to hominins and bipedal anatomy stuff which I’m super into already, and the Female PI lectured me on anatomical terms as well as some specific stuff about bone structure and bipedal musculature and that was also building on some stuff I’d learned almost two years ago now, so it was nice to have a refresher.

Then today, I (well, first, there was an introductory session about the graduate school which was hosted by the dean for all the program participants and it actually sounds kinda cool lol) had a meeting with both PIs and we talked a bit more about the project in-depth and our next steps and such.  We skimmed some papers about the subject matter and they mentioned that if we (I) were able to complete enough, I would almost definitely be able to publish a paper on it which would probably be cited a ton and I really had to keep my excitement in check about that because, I mean, WHAT that is so COOL?!  ALSO they then were like “yeah and if all goes really well, maybe we can bring you out to the big professional conference next year and you could present the findings there :)” LIKE AHHHHH!!!  THE WAY MY RESUME WOULD BE BUILT??

but but but but but but but I gotta get through the next nine weeks first.  I’m excited though, like way more excited.  I mean, take away all the stuff about publication and presentation and the conference which was all mentioned to me at the very end of the meeting, because that only increased my excitement.  I was excited by the way they were describing why the research I was going to be doing was important.  I was excited by the fact that a ton of the stuff I’d learned in my 200-level bio and anth classes were actually super applicable to the lectures from yesterday.  I was excited because I felt like I was in my element.  Like I was learning cool things and would be able to apply cool things and I would be gaining to many skills and so much knowledge and they were like “haha by the end of the summer you’ll be able to look at a bone and say exactly which carnivore it came from won’t that be fun?” and I had to keep myself from screaming and smiling real wide because like, yeah??? NICHE KNOWLEDGE IS MY THING AHHHHH!!

The fact that I might co-author a paper and present on it was just the icing on the cake.

Never felt that way when thinking about pharmacy or biochemistry lol.

I am so glad to be-- hold up.

Today I’m thankful that I changed my major.  Remember back in Fall 2019 where I was all “Imma get me this degree and everyone will know how smart I am if it kills me”?  Yeah.  Glad I’m out of there bro.  I’m right where I need to be.

Character development for the win!!

I’m also thankful (bonus thank!!  lots of these to go around recently, apparently lol) that my PIs actually are super nice and supportive and are willing to take all of my questions and are providing so many resources for me to be successful??  Ugh I can only dream of having a PhD advisior so supportive.

Oh, oh!  Also thankful (...double bonus thank??) for my AirPods.  Got them as a gift to myself for getting through my sophomore year, my fourth semester of college, these past few months of awfulness.

Now I need to get out this dang room once in a while, and I’ll be set to go.  And maybe I should eat a sandwich.  Actually Imma grab me a personal pizza bc I ain’t eaten all day lol cept some Ritz crackers and a banana. 

[myownsuperintendent]

Fic: “Moving” (”Welcome” Series Part IV)

With the help of Mulder and Scully, William moves into his dorm room.  Rated G and also here on Ao3.  This is the fourth and (at least to the best of my knowledge) final part in my “Welcome” series, based on Season 11 casting speculation.  Parts one through three are:

“Welcome”--here

“Conversations”--here

“At the House”--here

.....

They come back from the housewares store around the corner with a few last things—a trash can, a package of five hangers, a bottle of laundry detergent.  Will sets the detergent on a shelf, while Mulder puts the trash can near the door and Dana takes the cardboard off the hangers and puts them in the wardrobe (they don’t really need three people to do this, but he lets them help).  It’s only them in the room right now; his roommate, Ben, went somewhere with a guy he knows from high school.

“Do you have everything you need?” Dana asks.  

“I think so, yeah,” Will says.  “Thanks.” He didn’t imagine moving in like this, even last year, even when he worked on his college essay (they wanted you to write about a significant experience, and he wrote about everything he’d learned on the cross-country team, hoping that maybe if he pretended that he wasn’t having a vastly more significant experience right at that very moment and that everything he’d thought about his life hadn’t blown up, the whole thing would just go away).  But this is how it’s happening.  He’s just spent two days driving from Washington to Boston with Dana and Mulder, and they’ve helped him set up his dorm room, and now here the three of them are, looking at each other, not totally sure what comes next.

“When’s your orientation meeting?” Dana asks.

He looks at the schedule again.  “Three-thirty.”  About half an hour from now.

Mulder nods.  “Are you ready?” he asks.  “Is there anything else the two of us can do?”

“Yeah, I think I’m ready,” Will says.  “I’m pretty much set, I think.”  There’s nothing so special in their questions.  He never really thought about this part, but if he had, he probably would have imagined it like this: the same questions, only not with these two asking them.  It would have been—well, he still doesn’t know what to call them now, not even in his thoughts.  Even when he’s angry, it’s hard not to call them his parents.  And these questions that Dana and Mulder are asking now are the kinds of questions parents always ask, he figures, at least if they care about you.  Which he’s pretty sure now that the two of them do.  Which he always thought that the others did.

“Okay,” Mulder says. He’s drumming his fingers on Will’s desk; Dana nudges him with her hip.  “Should we stick around for a little longer?”

“We can go if you want time to yourself,” Dana says. “But we can stay if you want us to.” She straightens his towel on its bar so that its edges are lined up, her movements jerky.  They both look like they’re waiting for him to tell them what to do.

There’s a part of Will that wants them to stay longer, that feels like there should be some sort of moment here, some dramatic words exchanged.  But there’s also a part of him that doesn’t want this to be dramatic at all.  He wants them to go, to spend the night in Boston and then head home and call him on the phone a bunch, with the knowledge that they’ll be back—that he’ll see them in October at Family Weekend—never in the slightest doubt.

They’re both still looking at him.  The past is always there, but he feels as close as he can get to that certainty. “Yeah,” he says.  “You can go.”

A little pause, and then they nod.  “So,” Mulder says.  “This is it.”

“I guess so,” Will says.

Mulder moves to hug him, and he hugs back, for a little longer than he might on a normal day, but not so long that it gets weird.  “We’ll miss you a lot, Will,” he says.  “But you’re going to do great here.  Work hard, okay?  But not too hard.  Do some crazy things too.”

“Okay,” Will says. “But I’m a little afraid of what you mean by that.”  Mulder’s laugh sounds a little unsteady, like he’s getting choked up, but he’s smiling as he moves away and lets Dana have her turn at a hug.

She’s got tears in her eyes.  “We’re going to miss you so much,” she says.  “Mulder’s right, though.  You’re going to have an amazing time.  Call us, okay?  Call us tomorrow and tell us how you’re doing.  We’ll call you too…but it’s okay if you don’t answer right away, we’ll know you’re busy getting settled, meeting people…”  It’s nice of her to say; he knows from how often they touch on the topic of phone calls and e-mail that they’re anxious about not hearing from him. “You’re going to do so well,” she says, wiping at her eyes.

“I’ll call,” he says. “Definitely.  I’m going to miss both of you too.”  It’s strange to think that he really means it.

“We love you,” Dana says.  “So much.”

“We really do,” Mulder adds.  

They tell him this all the time.  He knows it would make them happy if he said it back or if he called them Mom and Dad. Emily does those things, and sometimes he wishes it were as easy for him.  They’ve never asked him, though, not once.

Right now, he hugs them again, both at the same time, the three of them entwined.  They’re both crying a little by now.  This one is a long hug.

They all look at each other for another moment when they pull apart.  Dana is the first to speak.  “Okay then.  This is going to get messy if we drag it out.  Let’s say goodbye and then I’ll go cry somewhere else.”

“You’d better not fall apart on me,” Mulder says.  “I was counting on falling apart on you.”  They all smile a little.

“Right,” Will says. “Bye, then, Dana.  Bye, Mulder.”

“Goodbye, Will,” Dana says.  “Have a wonderful orientation.  We’ll talk to you really soon.”

“Knock ‘em dead out there,” Mulder says.  “Bye for now, then.”  Will sees them the three steps to the door and watches them down the hall before he closes it.  There are still a few minutes before he needs to head down to the orientation meeting, and he sits down experimentally on his new bed.

His phone rings, and he looks at it; it’s Emily.  He picks it up quickly.  “Hi,” he says.

“Hi, Will!” Emily says.  “I just wanted to check in.  How’s move-in going?  Are Mom and Dad still there?”

“They left,” he says. “Just a couple of minutes ago.”

“Oh,” Emily says. “Were they really emotional?” She’s probably trying to figure out if she should call them next to try to cheer them up.  She always does that kind of thing.

“A little,” he says. “Not too bad.”

“That’s good,” Emily says.  “How about you?  How are you doing?  Do you like it so far?”

“I guess so,” he says. “There hasn’t been that much to judge yet.  We moved in, and they gave us these bag lunches.  My room’s fine, though, and so far I like my roommate.  We have an orientation meeting pretty soon.”

“That sounds good,” Emily says.  “What other kinds of things are going on?”

He flips through the orientation booklet.  “There’s a barbecue tonight,” he says, “and a welcome ceremony, for all the freshmen. And then this week there are more meetings…campus tours…some things where you can go around Boston…”

“Are you excited?” Emily asks.

“Yeah,” he says. “I am.  I think it’s going to be good here.”

“Aww,” Emily says. “Listen to you, all grown up and living on your own.”

“You’re not that much older than me,” he points out.

“Well, you’re still my little brother,” Emily says.  “I remember when you were a baby.  I remember when you could barely even talk.”  Will can’t really argue with that point.  A lot has changed this year, but he’s still got someone around who heard his first sentences.  “Anyway,” she adds, “I’m glad you’re having a good time.  I miss you, you know.”

“Miss you too,” he says.  It isn’t complicated, saying these things to her.

“But I’ll see you pretty soon,” she says.  “At Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah,” he says. He thinks about Thanksgiving, wondering what it will be like.  Emily usually starts cooking at an hour when any reasonable person would still be asleep. He usually gets bribed into helping by a chance to taste the pies.  He doesn’t know what Mulder and Dana usually do.  He thinks it might be fun to find out.  “I should probably go, Emily,” he says.  “I have to get down to this meeting.”

“Of course,” Emily says.  “You have a great time, Will.  I’ll text you, okay?”

“Sure,” he says. “Bye, Emily.”

“Bye, Will.”

Before he heads down, he glances at the picture on Ben’s desk—it’s him with his parents and presumably his brother.  Will hasn’t put out any pictures, at least not yet.  He should probably think about that.

[crumpledjournal]

5.2.17

so apparently my school does this program where kids can head out into the woods for a weekend every once in a while and just… talk it out i guess. that was this past weekend, Ma (not my mom, a friend) told me to go. my old history teacher had been plugging for the trip for years, but id never actually gone. never thought id be able to explain wanting to go have a feelings jam with a buncha other kids in the woods to my dad. i didnt really until i came back and recapped a little (honoring the agreement i signed before going to not share anyones story from the trip).

on the one hand, i feel so fucking healthy!!! i feel like i have subsisted for the past year off of nothing but avocado smoothies and kale juice and like i have been doing yoga for 85 hours a day and like i finally met a person or two who i can actually speak my mind to and get more than just a “sure dude.” like, good lord does this feel good

i mean, thats what i told Ge and Di and i genuinely believe it. (both Di and i knew basically nobody other than eachother and we were alone in a sea of strangers for the first few hours.)

dont get me wrong, i feel lots better. i got a lot off of my chest. but there was also a lot left unsaid on my part. out of all the people there (about 90) there were two others who shared that they were genderqueer (and there were only like two other people who brought up the topic at all). one of them i had some p bad experiences with in middle school. the other was a student leader and facilitator of the trip, so Re (the leader) didnt really have a lot of time to talk, and in the discussions Re was mostly asking questions and… well, facilitating. plus, gender came up like once. and Re was not there.

but i was! it was nice to talk a little. i was in a meeting with the school principal about installing gender neutral bathrooms at the school a week or two ago and i talked about that with them, and i told them that being genderqueer goes waywaywayway back and lots of other stuff, i guess. but i didnt say anything about my experiences with being genderqueer, really.

and damn did i want to! idk if yall have picked up on this yet (all none of you) but talking to people about my shit is just so healing for me. thats why i have a public journal! like, talking to equals and feeling heard. i could tell my mom or the school therapist (and i do, often) about my shit and its cool, theyre supportive and shit, but since i started this class ive had no time to keep up old friendships that were based around hanging out. like, were still friends i guess, but… playing minigolf over text is just not the same, man.

there was this thing last night where from like, right after dinner until about 3 in the morning, we talked. people had seven minutes that they could use however they wanted in front of the whole group, and it was just their job to listen. and let me tell you, id been crafting my seven minutes for like, three hours before my name came up. the thing is, i planned like twenty minutes of monologue. i talked about a bunch of the family stuff ive got and that was real cathartic. i also got to talk about my struggles with depression, which was a real common topic. but… ive been thinking about the possibility of myself being a trans girl really, really hard over the past couple of months, and i still havent shared that other than with the people whove read this journal.

which is nobody, other than a couple people browsing tags when i talked about moana a little while ago. i havent told that many people i write this, but. i kinda trusted those who i did to read it i guess.

i dunno. i think im most afraid that im not going to have any healthy girl friendships. i see all these women and girls and they have such supportive relationships with eachother. i see it every day. holy shit, if you havent seen the rage and passion with which girls defend their true friends… Hoo Boy.

and im so worried i wont have that! like. i love being agender, and it’s wonderful to have the ability and the knowledge and the acceptance to be an out nonbinary person and not really have so many problems stemming from that in my life. but i have this fear that that ill be in this purgatory of a questioning period for just long enough that when i finally make up my goddamn mind and trust my conviction enough to come out as a trans girl ill have lost the opportunity to have these wonderful, girl-to-girl relationships. as an agender person i feel like so much of an intruder in these female spaces.

Like, Ha (who I met on the trip) was so wonderful and badass, especially considering the amount of shit shes had to go through. jimminy christmas, shes fucking strong. i try not to gender people here but when the topic is gender itself that kind of context feels crucial… but anyways. she came and sat with me when i was eating lunch alone in the corner and brought a couple other girls and. i mean, some of the body language of the others kind of told me they werent super interested in me being there but… it felt… so good. just to be in a female space, just to be included there for the most part, without cis guys around that i would get lumped with.

but then i think i had a panic attack like, near to immediately after that, because i felt like i was making them incredibly uncomfortable by being an intruder in their female space. and when my female friends were having a hard time during the trip (as often happened) i felt like it wasnt my place to comfort them and that as a natal male i would just make them more uncomfortable and they would doubt their friendship with me because so many guys just take advantage of women when they’re at their lowest emotional state and that’s the last thing i want to be seen as and i tried to hug a few women who were having a really hard time over the course of the trip but i just got this churning in my stomach because i might make it worse if i make them think i just want to hug them so i can feel them aginst my stupid fucking body and if i keep writing this sentence then im going to have another panic attack

i dont know what to do. i dont know who to talk to because despite the number of people who said i could come to them this weekend, nobody else talked about gender shit, and those genderqueer people who i do know have just told me to look into my heart and shit, which doesnt help because thats what ive been trying to do. i feel like i cant talk to women because to them ill just be another guy who’s venting because he feels like he can dump all his emotional shit on the closest woman (especially women i just met on the trip, i couldnt ask them to spend however long it takes out of their day to read this when i just met them). i feel like i cant talk to men because if theyre not transphobic to begin with, they either refuse to talk about emotional shit, or can neither relate to feeling like they wont have any healthy girl-to-girl friendships nor realte to being genderqueer. i know im going to send this little essay to somebody soon because i just need to hear at least one other persons thoughts but i dont know who its going to be

and on top of all of that i keep getting these stomach aches at mealtimes and no other time of day and i dont know if it was the confessions from people with eating disorders or something else but my stomach aches and then i dont eat and then it aches because im hungry until the next meal when it aches again and i cant eat and when youre choosing between not eating or eating and feeling like you want to throw up, do you have an eating disorder already? i dont know anything thats going on with my body and im depressed and i feel so ashamed because there were so many people who had stories that felt so much more real than just a pronoun and a stomach ache and they spent their seven minutes with what seemed like no regrets about not having shared things and here i am writing a fucking dissertation pity paper about myself because i feel like it wasnt enough time to talk about my dumb fucking problems even though what i have aint shit and if i fall into the spiral of ands i legitimately will have a worse panic attack and i dont know who i can comfortably ask to do the fucking weightlifting championship level shit that is required to do the emotional heavy lifting and read bullshit im putting on the page without feeling like im inconveniencing them to the nth degree

so i guess thats where im at

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Friday, 11 September 2020

Which, given Ulysses, is not to castigate you, but I think that your questions touches on some important material in here, I think you've made matters in the middle of the texts are off-limits, inappropriate, not four additional. 3%. Thank you for putting so much. REMINDER: Friday is for you if you really have done a good student.

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