#anyway this may have an audience of one but i'm posting it anyway

[brightdarkly]

The Surfer, Vampire Weekend // Point Break, Kathryn Bigelow

[pronouncingitwang]

adam scott says in the "inside the episode" of 2.07 that it allows the audience to "see the magic of gemma and why she immediately took over [mark's] life and his heart" and dichen lachman describes the ep in the severance podcast as "the audience getting to know [gemma] and everyone seeing what mark had that he lost." well, what about gemma? how much do we really get to know her? what did she lose? why did mark take over her heart?

they had 50 minutes for a Gemma Episode and they spent half of it on dead wife tropes and her smiling at mark with come-hither eyes while not giving us a single new fact* about her or a relationship outside of mark and mark's family. a subversion of the dead wife trope is not just scenes later showing they had an imperfect marriage bc mark (or nobody) is the problem in all of those scenes; you need to disrupt the idea that she was the perfect wife, and i don't think we get that. so much of it is explicitly presented through mark's pov. she doesn't hurt him at any point. she's just there being lovely or victimized as he loves or neglects her. everything we learned about her past gives more depth to his current grief but contributes little to our understanding of her current suffering or motivations. that could change with time, but for a first try, i think it's an abysmally bad showing

* that wasn't in mark's 1.07 monologue, his conversations with devon and alexa, or the the you you are pdf, all of which i think did a better job than this episode

[marshmellowtea]

comes out of the wip covered in blood. this was supposed to be a short little tumblr fic what happened omg 😭😭😭

alkdjfklasdfj anyway! as i've teased several times now here's a fic for the munchausen by proxy au, or the love isn't injected with syringes 'verse as it's now dubbed (thank you heresy! ^-^), ft. a fucked up little slice of life scene between a teenage chris and celia. no other cornley members appear cuz it is a backstory fic, i just wanted to write a little thing about what his life was like before he met them and they were able to help him, and it. uh. spiraled lol. i swear it was not supposed to be this long, nor was it supposed to take this long to write, but here we are!

like i said, this was meant to be a shorter fic meant for tumblr, but the intent was always to cross post it to ao3 at some point, so if you'd prefer to read it there i'll have it published tomorrow on my tea_at_twilight_time account. i'll also be reblogging this post with a link for the sake of convenience and also because i love self promo lol :)

warnings for this fic include: implied poisoning and medical malpractice by a parent (cuz uh. munchausen by proxy lol), hurt/little comfort, hurt/manipulative comfort, child abuse (mostly emotional and medical but referenced physical as well. also celia is def starving this kid so references to that too lol), vomiting and semi graphic descriptions thereof, choking as a result of said vomiting, references to body fluids, nightmares, drowning, celia's general hot and cold nature with this poor kid, chris seeming wayyyy younger than he is (agere brain did not turn off while writing this i will not lie to you all lol). if there's anything else please lemme know but this should cover the major things <3 yes this fic is evil don't @ me about it akdjflkds >:3

now, without further ado..........

"I know it's not right to say, but...sometimes, I quite like you like this."

Celia's words come into Chris's ears as a soft croon, her hand stroking his overheated face and sweat soaked hair soothingly. He breathes out shakily, but despite the pain radiating up through his limbs, he finds himself smiling a little, her tone washing over him more than her words.

"Mama," he mumbles, weakly lifting a hand for her. "'m...'m..."

Celia shushes him, her hand trailing down to cup his cheek, her thumb rubbing over his feverish, pallid skin. "My poor darling," she continues, her voice sickeningly sweet. "You're so good for me when you're sick, aren't you?"

Chris hums lowly, tilting his face further into her palm. She doesn't get like this often—sweet and gentle, touching him like he's something to be loved. Normally she's more clinical, her touch impersonal as she checks his temperature, gives him his pills, helps him bathe...he relies on her for quite a bit, really, so it's not surprising she can't always indulge him in affection like this. Still though, it's nice when he gets it, these rare moments where she's more his mother than his nurse.

"You're so weak," she says, soft, like it's a compliment. "So helpless. You're so lucky to have such a loyal mum like me, who's willing to stick it out. Most women would consider you too high maintenance, but not me. I'm willing to sacrifice a lot for you, Chris, don't forget that."

He nods faintly, as best he can with his head feeling so heavy. She'd just given him his medicine, and that always drains him a bit—he doesn't think it's fair that the thing that's supposed to make him better makes him feel so damn tired, but Mama always assures him that that just means it's working. Sometimes, the things that make you feel better make you feel worse for a bit, something she's always quick to remind him of when he complains. He tries not to complain so much nowadays, though. She's only doing what's best for him.

"Anyway," Celia says, bringing him back to the present. "I have some things to do, so I'll be leaving you here for a bit. Can you get some rest for me while I'm gone?"

Chris whimpers before he can stop himself, opening his eyes sluggishly. He knows he's being selfish, but a part of him hates how often she leaves him alone, knowing how much he needs her. He reaches out for her weakly, trying to gently grab onto her arm or even the hem of her blouse, but she grabs his wrist before he can reach her, placing it back against his chest.

"Chris. Don't be difficult," she says, voice still sweet but with an edge of that harshness he so dreads to hear from her. "I'm doing this for you. I have to leave to pick up your new medication."

"I th-thought," he starts, words slurring as his tongue feels heavy in his mouth, "th-thought this was the new medi-medica—"

"It's one of them," Celia says, mercifully cutting him off before he can embarrass himself further. "But with your condition, well...we just need more than one course to make you well again. You're quite sick, you know."

He does know. He whines, but nods again, his head moving helplessly against his pillowcase. "'m s'rry," he mumbles, eyes growing wet with tears. "D-don' mean'ta make it so hard..."

"Oh, I know, I know," Celia soothes, pulling the blanket up to cover his chest. "That's why I need you to sleep for me now. We won't know if this dose is working until you get some rest and let it work, alright?"

Chris breathes out shakily, letting his eyes fall closed. "Mama?" he asks, voice tiny.

"Yes, dear?"

For a long moment, it feels like all he can do is breathe. Finally, he quietly asks, "D-don' wanna be difficul' still, b-but can you stay til..."

He trails off, taken aback by the hand in his hair. "Yes, Chris?" she prompts, soft voice tinged with irritation.

He wilts a little, and shame tinges his voice as he mumbles, "J-jus' til I fall 'sleep..."

Celia's quiet for a long moment, continuing to stroke his hair rhythmically. Eventually, though, she sighs, as though he's asked something truly exhausting of her. Maybe he has, he's not sure.

"Okay, darling," she says, sounding put upon about it. "Just this once. The chemist doesn't stay open all day, you know."

"I-I know," Chris mumbles, a few stray tears escaping. "'m s'rry, Mama."

Celia sighs heavily again, and Chris can see the way she shakes her head, even with his eyes closed. "I suppose you can't help it," she says, her nails digging slightly into his scalp as she continues to stroke his hair. "Being a bit...needy. It's only natural, since you're sick. Still, you really ought to not make it a habit."

"I won't," he whimpers, relaxing a little into the mattress regardless. "'m s'rry Mama."

"Sssshh."

Obediently, he falls quiet at her shushing, letting himself be soothed by her gentle petting. He doesn't deserve it—he doesn't deserve her, and all the things she does for him. She's really too good to him.

Those thoughts carry him to sleep, a thank you and a declaration of love dying on his tongue. He plans only to say the former to her later, knowing she’ll appreciate his gratitude, but the latter will be kept to himself, like a secret. No use in saying that he loves her when she won't say it back, after all.

- -

The ocean out in front of him is vast and choppy, tossing his little ship around helplessly.

Chris's stomach churns with the movement of the sea, a steadily rising nausea coming over him like the waves he's currently sailing on. He's not sure how much of it is seasickness, and how much of it is sheer terror—terror he's struggling to keep under wraps, lest his crew see just how fucked they really are. The faceless men around him shoot him concerned glances with their smooth, eyeless visages, well aware of how dire their plight is, and though he knows this, Chris sends them attempts at reassuring nods anyway, swallowing back the bile rising in his throat.

"Captain," one of them says, sending a nervous glance to the waves in front of them. "The sea—"

He doesn't get to finish before a wave suddenly hits them, tall and unavoidable even if Chris had noticed it before it came. Chris feels himself getting swept away, and he shouts, calling for help he knows won't come. There's no one to help him. Anyone who could, anyone who would've cared enough to, is getting swept away with him, his crew getting carried away alongside him. Tears spring to Chris's eyes as he realizes he's failed them, and the pain in his stomach spikes, a cramp that would make him double over if he was still upright.

He doesn't get to dwell on that long, however, until he's plunging into the jarringly cold water surrounding them. A wail dies in his throat as his mouth fills with water, blocking any further sound from escaping him as he gags and splutters, attempting to clear his airways with each convulsion of his chest. Anything that he manages to cough up is quickly replaced, however, as the sea presses in all around him, the inescapable pressure making his chest tighten around the liquid slowly filling his lungs. Tears sting his eyes, but if any escape, he isn't able to tell as they're quickly lost to the saltwater carrying him.

Mama, he calls out in his mind, as though she'd be able to hear him��as though she'd be able to get to him out here. Still, a hopelessly hopeful part of him can't help but call for her, Mama, come save me!

He coughs again, but it's getting harder to breathe. He's going to die out here, he realizes. He's going to die alone and scared and without his Mama here to hold him and tell him he's going to be an angel in heaven if he dies here and—

—and suddenly there are hands pulling him from the water, warm and solid against his clammy skin. He feels himself get rolled onto his side, somehow on solid ground now, and this time when he coughs, water comes out. He sobs a little once his throat is clear, and then vomits, more water coming out of him, this time accompanied with sea gunk.

"There you go, my angel. Get it all out."

Is that...is that Mama? Chris whimpers, relieved to hear her voice—but how did she get out all the way out here?

"Sssshh," she soothes, her hand feeling real and alive in his hair. "You're alright. Just breathe."

Chris gasps, eyes fluttering open to see Celia hovering over him and a trail of vomit leading from his mouth, yellowish and liquidy from his consistently empty stomach. He whines loudly, and then convulses, another wave of bile pouring out of his mouth and spilling onto the pillow next to him.

"I know, love, I know," Celia croons, brushing back his hair and rubbing his shoulder. "Just let it out, and then we'll get you in the tub again, alright?"

Chris whimpers, but he can't really protest that plan—his pajamas feel a bit damp, and he can't tell what of it is sweat or...other, less desirable fluids. He lets his eyes fall shut and thinks of the sea from his dream again, the way the cold saltwater washed over him, and feels grateful to at least be on dry land as he coughs and sputters his way through his little nausea spell, unfortunately not that uncommon at this point in his life. He doesn't usually choke during them, though, and he can't help but whimper again as his stomach contracts and spews up more acid, the vomit stinging the sores already formed in the back of his throat as it comes up. All the while, Celia murmurs to him, soft words of reassurance as he retches, and he soaks up the affection as much as he can while he's in this state, never knowing when he's going to receive this softness again.

"Mama," he mumbles, once his stomach has finally settled enough for him to speak without bringing more of the sparse fluids in his abdomen up, "don' feel very good..."

"I know, my angel," Celia croons again, now reaching down to help guide him upright. "You'll feel better once we get you in the bath. Oh, and fortunately, I just brought back your new medication, and that'll have you feeling right as rain as well, won't it?"

The idea of putting anything else on his empty, ravaged stomach makes Chris feel lightheaded, mouth watering with the threat of more vomit. Still, he knows better than to argue, especially after the scare he must've given her. He wonders how she deals with it, the constant brushes with death his illnesses give him. She never seems outwardly afraid for him, though he knows she must be, given how much time and effort she puts into keeping him alive. If he had the energy to, he'd feel guilty for it, but right now, he barely has the energy to keep himself sitting, instead leaning heavily against his mother once she's got him upright.

"Mama," he groans, trembling as she starts to pull him to his feet, his legs unwilling to support him. "Mama, don' wanna be sick 'nymore...'m tired..."

"Sssshh, I know," Celia soothes, holding him around the waist as she guides him toward the bathroom, exercising a surprising amount of strength as she holds him upright almost entirely on her own. "Hopefully the pills help this time, but...oh, you've been my sick baby for so long, I just can't imagine you any other way..."

Chris whimpers, legs nearly collapsing beneath him. Baby. He doesn't get dubbed with that title often, but it always makes his chest warm, a weird fuzziness rushing over his head when she says it. He lifts his heavy, trembling arms, hoping to cling to her before they reach the bathroom, but before he can muster up enough strength for it, she's dropping him unceremoniously on the toilet, setting him aside as she preps his bath. A few stray tears escape his eyes at the loss of contact, and he curls around himself with a groan, clutching at his still aching stomach.

"Do try not to vomit again, Chris," Celia says, her voice not cold per se, but losing the warmth it had not even a minute ago. "But if you do, you know where the wastebasket is."

Chris whimpers, less at the nausea rolling over him and more at the clinical neutrality in her tone. Back to business as usual, he supposes. It had been a nice run of her rare gentleness, longer than she normally affords him, but he should've known that it was inevitably going to end. Still, despite his disappointment, he does his best to follow her instructions and not puke again—it's not too hard, even for as nauseous as he is. Anything he could've thrown up has already been expelled, so he just closes his eyes and against the dizziness washing over him, letting the sound of the tub filling keep him distracted. The warm water will feel good on his aches, he knows this from experience.

"Mama," he mumbles, once his mouth is no longer full of saliva, a threat of vomiting his body won't follow through with. "Mama, thank'ou..."

"Don't speak, Chris," Celia chides, not harsh, but not kind either. "Not until we're sure you won't be sick again."

"But 'm...I don' think 'm gonna..."

"Chris."

This time, there is harshness to the words. He's annoyed her again. He slams his mouth shut and whimpers, and then swallows back any other noises, feeling more than seeing her annoyed stare with his eyes still shut. He flinches slightly when he feels her come over—physical punishments aren't common, but he's never sure when he's aggravated her enough to draw one out of her—but she merely starts to help him out of his pajamas, wordlessly pulling the hem of his shirt up. Chris instinctively moves his arms up to help her, the movements routine by now, and in no time at all he's undressed and being guided into the tub.

He doesn't open his eyes again until he feels the water surrounding him, warm and clean and a sharp contrast to the cold salt water from his dream. The memory of it makes him shiver even in the heat surrounding him, and he pulls his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around himself, keeping his eyes on the steam rising up around him rather than on his mother fluttering around him.

After what feels like a long silence, she speaks up again. "Chris. I do appreciate the gratitude."

Chris perks up a little at that, finally looking up at her with round eyes. "Really?"

"Of course," Celia murmurs, crouching down by the tub next to him. "It's rare that a boy understands the sacrifices his mother makes for him. But you...you've always been so obedient for me."

Tears well up in Chris's eyes at the praise, and his breath quickens, squeezing his eyes shut as she runs a damp washcloth over his shoulders. "You do so much for me," he mumbles, and before he can stop himself, before he can remember why it's a bad idea, he finds the words slipping out of his mouth, "I love you, Mama..."

Celia is quiet for a long, terrifying moment, no acknowledgement of the words he's just spoken. She doesn't even stop washing him, but that's a good sign—at least he didn't upset her too badly. Still, she must be a little upset with him given her silence, and the thought makes his stomach start to turn again unpleasantly.

"'m sorry," he mumbles, dropping his face into his knees. "'m sorry...sorry...s—"

"Quiet, now, Chris," Celia interrupts, cutting off his next apology. "Let's just get your bath finished so you can go back to bed, alright?"

Chris whimpers, nodding weakly. He'll probably be moved to the guest room while his sheets are being cleaned, but he doesn't mind too much. It's always nice to have a change of scenery, no matter how brief, though he often does find himself wishing for more sometimes. Maybe if he feels better tomorrow, and if he asks really nicely, he'll get to sit on the couch and watch a little telly. Maybe Mama will even sit with him, and show him one of her old movies. That would be nice. He won't get any of that if he doesn't get better, though, or if he's not good. So far, it feels like he's failing on both fronts.

He tries to push the thought out of his mind—the last thing his mother needs is for him to accidentally induce one of his crying fits—and the rest of the bath passes in a half aware haze, exhaustion taking over once again now that his stomach doesn't hurt so much. The warm water feels really nice, after all, and a few times, Chris nearly finds himself drifting off, though he does his best to fight off the urge, since Mama can't lift him out if he falls asleep. He's not keen on the idea of waking up to a cooled tub of water if she has to leave him in again, nor on the idea of said cooled water making him sicker. It's far too easy to set off his various illnesses, and Mama would be upset if he caused them to get worse by doing something stupid and easily avoidable like falling asleep where he's not supposed to.

He is a bit relieved when she finally pulls the drain, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. He trembles as the water rushes away, leaving him exposed to the cold air around him, but a towel is soon draped over him, soft and fluffy and protecting him against the chill that forever permeates the house. He whines a bit as he's guided up to his feet, but the way he's shushed quickly quiets him, and this time he wastes no time in latching onto his mother as best he can with sore, trembling arms, not wanting to miss his chance to cling to her while it's still acceptable to do so.

"Guest room, Mama?" he asks, voice quiet and a little shaky, matching the way his legs tremble beneath him.

"Yes, Christopher," Celia says, a note of something he can't quite identify in her voice. "Can't exactly have you sleeping in soiled sheets, can we?"

Chris shakes his head, whimpering at the thought. That'd be worse than sleeping in the bathtub, he's sure. The bathtub gets pretty cold, but at least it's clean.

"Exactly, my angel," Celia says in response to his displeased sounds, leading him in the direction of his new sleeping arrangements. "We wouldn't want to undo my hard work of getting you all clean by putting you back in your own mess, would we?"

Oh, he said part of that out loud, hadn't he? Chris flushes a bit at the realization, but he still shakes his head dutifully in response, breathing out shakily as his stomach starts to churn again. Movement always disrupts it when he's already been sick, so he's not going to worry too much about getting sick again unless he feels the saliva start to swarm his mouth or the bile tease at the back of his throat, the tell tale signs that he's going to retch. He knows them all intimately by now, even if the whims of the rest of his body still feel confusing and out of reach.

Thankfully, the trip to the guest room passes by in a half aware haze, most of Chris's focus on his sensitive, flipping stomach. It's a relief once he's sat down on the bed again, and he sighs as he flops onto his side on the mattress, soft and comfortable beneath him.

"Chris," Celia scolds after a long moment, and he looks up through his lashes to see her standing above him, bundle of clothes in arm.

"Sorry Mama," he mumbles, pushing himself upright again on trembling arms. "'m tired..."

"I know, dear, which is why I don't understand why you're making this so much harder on me," she huffs, coaxing a pang of guilt into his ravaged tummy. "I just need you to sit up for a bit longer, are you capable of doing that for me?"

Chris flushes in shame, and he nods shakily, biting his bottom lip nervously. "I can," he says softly. "Sorry, Mama."

Celia huffs, and Chris braces himself, wincing as she starts to guide his tender limbs into a fresh pair of pajamas. It's not like she's trying to cause him pain, of course. She's just trying to get the job done quickly. It's not her fault if it hurts a bit, if every little movement makes his sore limbs ache dully, so he does his best to let her work, trying not to fuss it. The warm water from his bath had helped a bit, but the pain never fully goes away, the aches from his illnesses a constant background noise he can never entirely block out.

It's a relief, then, when he's finally laid back down on the bed, guided by his mother's hand. There's the ghost of affection in the gentleness of the gesture, and it bleeds into the way she tucks him in as well. He soaks it up as best he can, letting out the smallest of whimpers as the blanket is pulled up to his chin.

"There you go," Celia hums, not quite warm, but Chris clings to the vestiges of it in her tone anyway. "Are you going to get some sleep for me, now?"

Chris breathes out shakily, but he nods, his exhaustion and his mother's pointed stare giving him no other choices. "Yes Mama," he breathes, curling up childishly in the sheets. "Um...wait..."

Celia pauses on her way to the door, turning on her heel and looking at Chris with an uncomfortably neutral expression. "Yes, my angel?"

Chris breathes out, fighting the urge to suck at the edge of his blanket, a nervous habit his mother heavily disapproves of. "What if I have another nightmare?" he asks, voice quiet. "O-or I get sick 'n almost choke again?"

"You're not a child Chris, you can handle another nightmare," Celia says sternly, before her voice and face soften just slightly. "But you don't have to worry about choking again. I'll always be here to protect you, to save you. You know that."

Chris nods, feeling oddly cold under the layers of blankets. He wishes his mother would come closer, take him in her arms like he's a kid again and hold him to her chest, but he knows it's a big ask. It's as she's said, he's too old for that kind of thing—he's just turned fourteen, and Mama's made a point to let him know that because he's not a child anymore, he's too old for her to let him curl up in her lap just because he's not feeling well. Not that she held him much when he was younger, of course—she was too busy trying to take care of him, checking his vitals and bringing him water and tea and running to the chemist for his medicine. Still, sometimes, when he was really sick, she used to pull him close, let him lay his head against her shoulder as she held him and rocked him. It hurts to think that he's not going to get those occasional bouts of affection anymore, but he supposes that since he has been sick for so long, he should be able to handle the stress of it on his own now.

Still, he tries not to pout as he cuddles the blanket closer, trying to imagine it as a pair of arms embracing him. "I know Mama," he murmurs, the words a ghost of a breath on his lips. "A-and thank you…you really do so much f'r me..."

"Yes, I do, don't I?" Celia hums, sounding almost pleased—Chris can almost believe she's pleased with him, though he knows it's likely not the case. "And I have more I must do for you. Can you do something for me in turn?"

Chris nods, already knowing what she's going to ask. "Yes Mama," he mumbles in answer, letting his eyes droop closed. "I'll get some sleep f'r you..."

"Good, my angel," Celia says, and he can hear the light switch click as she shrouds him in darkness. "I'll be back for another round of medication later. I would give it to you now, but I have to sort your new pills with the others before I know what to give you...besides, I don't think the painkillers from this morning have quite left your system yet, anyway..."

Chris isn't so sure about that, given the way his aches have only sharpened since his bath. Still, he knows better than to argue with her, especially about his medication. She knows far more than he does about the kind of treatment he needs—Mama knows best, just like she always tells him.

"Okay, Mama," he breathes, clinging to the softness of his pillow. "Thank you. Thank you for takin' care 'f my medicine, Mama."

"Of course, my angel," Celia says, voice so quiet it's barely audible. "Sleep now. I'll be back to take care of you later, like always."

"Like always," Chris repeats faintly, a weird feeling squirming in his chest and tummy at the words. He thinks it's love, maybe, wriggling around, disallowed from escaping him through his throat and tongue—he's certainly not repeating that mistake again so soon.

"Yes, dear," Celia says, still so quiet, yet effectively breaking him out of his thoughts regardless. "Sleep well."

Chris nods, suppressing a whimper as the door clicks shut behind her, a quiet announcement that she's left him alone in the dark room. He curls in tighter on himself, feeling himself tremble slightly. Despite how exhausted he is, sleep suddenly feels far away, the dull ache in his body overwhelming in the darkness of the room. He almost wishes for something to do—a book to read, a show to watch, even something childish like toys to play with would be a welcome distraction. But he knows better than to ask for them, and that it's better if he merely focuses on resting, even if his mind is racing a million miles a minute and making it hard to drift off again.

It feels like ages until his body finally catches up with the situation, his heart rate slowing enough for him to lay under the covers without fidgeting around restlessly. He knows it probably won't be long until his mother wakes him up again for his medicine, given how long he laid there awake, but she asked him to rest for her. He's determined to fulfill that request, even if it's only for a pitifully brief amount of time.

He tries not to feel like a complete failure as he finally nods off again, hoping that the unease won't bring the nightmares back around. Despite his mother's words, he doesn't think that he is equipped to handle another one, and he really doesn't want to disappoint her again. The last thing he ever wants to do is disappoint her, even if it feels harder and harder not to, the older and sicker he gets.

Sorry Mama, he thinks, his last coherent thought before sleep finally takes him again, anxiety lingering at the edges of his subconscious mind. I'm trying to be good. I'm sorry, Mama.

[mokeonn]

So I heard that Tumblr is slowly being abandoned (they seem to be laying off a majority of their staff and keeping a skeleton crew) and we might be nearing the end of this webbed site. I don't think it's currently worth panicking over, but I'm definitely going to start making that neocities website.

I'll make a post soon about other places where you can find me. Unfortunately, I've spent quite some time these last couple years getting rid of a majority of my social media because most platforms were bad for my mental health. I do not plan on going back to these platforms, so if tumblr goes down, I'm going to be only on non social media.

Maybe if one of the new social medias being created, actually take off (like bluesky or pillowfort or whatever else these days) I might join, but if not I might be entirely on personal websites, patreon (I will start posting regularly like a blog and make more free posts), some old websites I deleted but not because I hated them (such as ko-fi, which I deleted due to inactivity) and possibly furaffinity. I'm still on the fence about furaffinity. I might also finally start using my toyhouse but that is an oc sharing website and not much of an art sharing website.

I really do hope Tumblr doesn't go down, this is my one social media and if it does go down I am going to lose nearly all of my audience. I can make do by creating a personal blog and using whatever I have left in terms of "can post my art there and people can find me", and it won't discourage me from making my personal projects. I can make do, and I will make do, but I don't really want to make do.

Anyways, that's all I have to say right now, I'll make a post later once I set up some alternative sites to find me at, but for now I want to give the heads up that if I'm gone, you're not gonna find me on twitter, Instagram, or whatever third option there is. I'm likely going to just make do, be offline more, and likely just become active on the discord servers I'm on.

[shiryawashere]

you ever miss your comfort character so bad you gotta go outside about it

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

David was asked about the Fennec Foxes! :D ❤ (watch the video - I also included there the fennec foxes posts and I recommend watching until the end! :D)

Fan question: May you want to tell us about the moment Georgia told you about the fennec foxes?

David: Now, what is this? This is something Neil Gaiman said, right? And then someone ran with it and now there's lots of pictures. What, what, what?

Int: I feel like Georgia gets you in a lot of trouble.

David: I don't think this one was Georgia's fault.

Fan: No, it was Neil.

David: It was Neil Gaiman's fault. I don't think Georgia entirely understands it either. Did you understand it?

Audience: Yeah.

Fan: It is... Neil said they have struggles with money so they can't afford to pay you for all the Second Season of Good Omens, so they had just some fennec foxes because nobody could tell the difference anyways.

David: Oh was Neil very drunk?

Fan: Maybe you should ask him.

David: Possibly. Right, listen, I'm sure a fennec fox in Season Three is going to do an excellent job.

Fan: Oh, yes, please.

David: Oh, all right, all right, chill out, recasting me.

Int: Your fennec fox is showing right now, chill.

David: What is fennec about fennec fox? I mean, what is the difference?

Int: I think it's like...it's like the Salisbury and Salisbury steak.

David: They're sort of...they're kind of rather blonde, aren't they? With sort of slightly more horn like ears, tight?

Int: They're the cute ones that you want to have as a pet.

David: Oh, as long as I'm a cute one, that's alright.

Fan: They mainly live in the desert, that's why they have so...

David: They mainly live in the desert, much like myself, yeah, yeah, I can see why he got...

Int: It's so dry and arid in Glasgow

David: It's very dry and arid in Glasgow, yeah.

[justgrey]

I have something worse up my sleeve on Vander that idk if im gonna post that includes the shimmered up version of him we see for 10 seconds before he dies and some bussy gobbling if yk what i mean 😈🥱🔥

Vander x Reader - General Relationship HC's

Warnings: Swearing cuz we fukin' balling

Beefy

b e e f y

He gives really great hugs, obviously. He's got so much meat on him that he feels like a really large pillow, and I'm here for it. And if you're reading this, I guess you're for it too 🤷‍♂️

Crazy protective, too. Man doesn't love easily after what happened with Silco, but when he does, mwah, you are not leaving his sight for longer than an hour before someone on his side is just "keeping an eye on you"

Vander loves jokes. Especially dad jokes. Because he's a dad. Please joke with him. Please, his kids always respond with "ughghh" and all he wants is an adoring audience. Please be that for him.

"What's the time?"

"It's... time to get a watch!" *big goofy grin*

"Hah- hahahahhahahahhaahhaahhaha please, Vander."

"Right, sorry. It's a quarter past seven, love."

👉👈

Anyway, Vander loves nicknames. Like, a lot a lot. He loves nicknames. What one's? Great question. Take a guess. He loves playing games with you and this is one of those games

Guess.

If you said anything along the lines of sweetheart, love, sweetie, or honey. You'd be right. He loves using generic nicknames with you because he wants to be as domestic as possible.

He likes to feel like his life is as normal as can be despite it being absolutely the opposite of that. He loves his children, and he loves you, so why not make the most of it? At least, that's what he figures.

The wackiest shit happens sometimes. There's a real mix of interactions in his little family and we living for all of them.

"Can you pass the sa-?"

*glitter bomb explosion from Powder's bunk*

"Oh, for the love of- POWDER, ARE YOU OKAY?!?"

His kids are all extraordinary. Mylo is very charismatic and is able to talk his way out of a lot of trouble, Claggor is great at lifting heavy shit, Vi can punch the daylights out of everyone, and Powder has the potential to be a great inventor someday. His goal is to inspire them all to be the best versions of themselves and to always be kind when they're able to despite living in the meanest area around.

You are also very intertwined with his children's lives to the point where they're basically your kids as well. If you didn't want that, break up with him. He's a package deal. All or nothing.

"Hey... what's that you're tinkering with, Pow Pow?"

"It's a bomb."

"It's a what."

"She means- uhm- it's full of confetti...? For... For Mylo's birthday! Y'know, that's totally coming up soon."

"Wait, my birthday isn't-"

"Yeah, yeah... for Mylo's birthday!" *innocent smile*

"For some reason... i d o n ' t b e l i e v e t h a t . . . Just... just stay out of trouble. As much as possible."

The kids treat you like a member of the family as well if you couldn't tell. They latch onto you, some take longer than others but they all eventually view you as their other parent.

First it was Powder, then it was Claggor, followed by Vi and then Mylo a little later on.

Vander actually wants to make it official with you someday and make you stay with him and his family forever by proposing to you, but with the current state of the Undercity, he may never get to. He's a busy, busy man, trying to hold the Lanes together. Sometimes, he gets too focused on that and forgets to share his attention around when crime is really bad.

But even just being around helps him out 🫡

Thanks gang 👍

[theforsakenprince]

Forsaken as a revenge story fascinates me but not because of anything really related to the revenge story itself but rather the context surrounding it. like, "revenge is wrong" stories are everywhere and almost expected at this point, and Forsaken is no different, really. Forsaken says going on this path of revenge will turn you into a monster, but... we as the player don't really care? And why should we! Uldren killed one of our favorite characters! And every expansion before this has us killing something, so it's not really out of the ordinary.

This feeling is especially reinforced by how much Bungie tried making the young wolf a self insert during y1 (which REALLY did not last long). We, the player (if you played d1/y1 anyway) are angry at Uldren for killing off the most popular character at the time. It's PERSONAL now. And sure, the ending does feel like we're kicking someone who's already down (Ghost says it himself: Uldren's already done for), but we got the bad guy! The end, right?

Nope! Our actions have immediate consequences! Ghost is scared for us. We have to watch Petra struggle with the events of Forsaken while trying to lead a city of people stuck in a perpetual 3 week loop. Mara is obviously not happy with us (and we know we have to deal with lightbearer Uldren at some point). We may not feel bad about killing Uldren, but it doesn't feel great either. And unlike most past Destiny expansions, Uldren isn't an obligatory unequivocally evil big bad alien we need to shoot because this is an fps, he's... just some guy we barely knew anything about before now. Sure, he was a dick to us, but watching his descent into madness throughout the campaign is downright uncomfortable. All our past enemies, in comparison, have been rather straightforward: they're trying to kill us? well we gotta kill them first.

Forsaken also marks a MAJOR tonal shift. It literally kills off the comedy relief. Every release after Forsaken has a noticeably more serious tone (and while humor isn't completely absent (Saint, Crow, Fynch, and Nimbus have their moments) Forsaken's story is a particularly dark one, and it seems to carry over the rest of the year as we first start to consider the "line between light and dark"). It was definitely much more noticeable at the time of release, but Cayde's death has an impact not only on the characters but the tone of the story overall (he is the perfect example of characters continuing to haunt the narrative imo) and clues us in as the audience that shit is about to get Real.

and what happens the next year? We find a Pyramid ship.

this post is kinda all over the place but MAN not a day goes by that I don't think about Forsaken and how good it is as a self contained story and as an expansion that sets up a lot of the major players leading up to final shape! it's not really controversial to say that Forsaken is one of destiny's best expansions (story wise at least I'm not touching that power grind with a 10 foot pole) but I feel like a lot of that sentiment comes from the fact that it came out after curse of osiris/warmind which. no hate to either of them but anything that came out after them would look really good in comparison.

anyway uhhh forsaken good uldren did nothing wrong (JOKE I feel like I have to specify this is a joke people have taken this statement from me seriously before)

[crosscheckings]

the passenger - screening and q&a with carter smith | horrorigins fest 9/28/24

so there was a screening of the passenger at horrorigins fest in tucson, az over this weekend that had a theater screening of the passenger and then a live q&a with carter smith afterward!

there were some really good questions and there's some video on horrorigins instagram (here and here, they haven't posted a full but i know there were several people recording and the festival is ongoing through today so they may post full video later) but some highlights:

he reiterated a lot of things that he's said in interviews about the script (so i won't go into detail about that)

he talked about his background at FIT and how benson's wardrobe was extremely intentionally chosen, and that the costume designer wanted to kill him bc the exact shade of his cardigan took three times to dye to get it right, it's also acrylic and very itchy (he has one too lmao)

he said that he gave johnny and kyle freedom to improvise on the script as much as they needed/wanted but that for the most part they stuck to it

burgers burgers burgers was a convenience store that they cleaned out and the stuffed animal place was in an actual empty mall that was "abandoned" (he mentioned there were like 7 empty malls they could have used, this one was completely empty so they didn't have to shut it down but idk if it was abandoned in the traditional sense)

he talked about the close ups and how much he loved kyle and johnny's faces and how he could shoot the whole thing in close up

the script was originally called "Randolph Bradley" which he did like but marketing didn't think would grab people and he also likes The Passenger for the movie they ended up making

i wish they had given the audience members mics when they asked their questions bc i'm watching the recording back to make sure i don't misquote something so i can't really hear some of the questions :( they also didn't upload the whole thing as of yet so the rest of this isn't verbatim but:

he agrees that at its core its a love story! when i asked my question i said "i wanted to touch on the love story comment from earlier" (bc someone else briefly mentioned it before asking a diff question) and he was like "i ALSO want to talk about the love story more!!" and was very excited that i brought up that "there's obviously a queer undertone to the film" and he just talked about what he saw in the script and how that came about, again said that jack stanley was like there's no romance but carter was like ummm anyway

he said that "this was the best thing to happen to either of them" (randy and benson) and agreed with someone who had described them as two sides of the same coin

he said that blumhouse also wanted them to lean into the weird romance aspect of it (or were okay with it), kyle was incredibly down to lean into the weird romance and was like "can we make it MORE gay"

afterward the fest went to a bar and mostly everyone went! so we actually got to hang out with carter just me and my friend and we talked a little bit more about the film and just other movies that he's enjoyed, we talked about his weekly newsletter, just random stuff like that. some highlights of that:

he said that kyle was all in on the queer undertone and was like can i touch johnny MORE

he said that there is a scene where benson touches randy again in a way that is similar in vibe to the scene in the mall parking lot where he touches his neck/wipes his tears but that they ended up cutting it because he (Carter) felt like it would undermine the emotional impact of that particular touch! he didn't expand on what the touch was or where exactly it went (he said it was after the teacher but didn't specify if it was after shepherd or mrs beard but i imagine he meant shepherd)

carter said that he would absolutely do a full up and down queer movie with kyle (if it was ever the right fit rather than writing a role for that reason)

it was really great and so interesting to hear his thoughts on the film and on filmmaking as a whole! he is really friendly and super nice and really knowledgeable. he had so much good stuff to say about the industry and he couldn't get enough of praising johnny and kyle both for their performances (rightly so) and what a good time he had making the movie.

bonus:

carter was kind enough to sign my poster (which he reposted the picture of on instagram). (i go into more detail about this event and stuff here) he also gleefully took photos of the saint randy and saint benson candles i made (because i am insane) and said he was going to send them to johnny and kyle because they would love them. kyle also reposted the picture of me and my friend the festival posted of us with the candles so now i am just dryheaving in my room. <3

anyway! support your local film festivals!! without horrorigns this wouldn't have been possible so support local and indie filmmakers and local and independent film festivals! <33

[uriel-is-best-girl]

Spoilers for up to ch 130 of Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work

Alright, so one thing that Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work (what is the abbreviation for this??) really got right is the horror.

Something I often find with these kinds of horror novels (infinite flow, protag having a cheat, excet) is that the horror can often turn into just spooky set dressing, just a background aesthetic. The scares stop being or never were impactful, there's no tension, all that.

This novel, of course, has the "what if someone who's a scaredy-cat was put into the horror setting" gimmick, which means our mc is constantly affected by the setting. Yet, at the same time, Roe also has to survive the horror scenarios somehow, which means he does crazy shit because he has all the answers on his phone to survive. So the real question is how does the author reintroduce fear after giving a character something like that? It's not enough for Roe to be scared and get through the scenarios anyways. I think the two key things at work here is elimination of safety and lasting consequences.

Nowhere is safe. This is a slow realization, one that Roe knew immediately, but has to be proven to the audience. This is a world in which at any moment you could walk into a ghost story. While his job may literally be to enter these ghosts stories, that doesn't make him immune to the inherent nature of this world. The first two nightmares Roe goes through are forced, and sudden, but still controlled in that he was put into them on purpose. But the serial killer mansion? The train to Tamra? Hazards of living in this world, its why he chose to stay with the company after arriving in this universe, because now that he's here there no way to avoid them.

Okay, so the universe itself isn't safe. You could go into a ghost story at anytime, but that isn't the only hazard of simply existing. At work there are terrifying and inhuman (literally or personality wise) coworkers: Kwak Jegang, a researcher who plays with peoples lives, Lee Jaheon, a lizard headed alien, and higher ups who you must carefully dance around, being a well preforming employee without making them suspicious.

And at own home? A haunted doll that you must be friends with, which contains a terrifying being who has a completely different, inhumane value system, and a roommate that will kill or exploit you the moment you let your guard down.

So no place is safe, but worse, is that the author takes it a step further. Nowhere is safe, not even your own mind. The way unreliable narration is used in conjunction with the contamination is chilling. It was terrifying for me to realize with Roe what was happening. That neither of us noticed, and that he was about to go back to not noticing. It was a sickening tension, and afterwards when we see some of the things that were suppressed by the corruption, the hints he left for Lee Jaheon? It adds to the horror, because he was fighting it, but all your best efforts are lost when you're fighting against your own mind. When you forget that you're trying to fight something at all.

Built into this, and being the other crucial element, is lasting consequences. The nightmares they enter are onetime, self-contained things rights? Yes, there's always a danger of accidentally entering them but once you leave it's all over right? Turns out it's more complicated than just a scenario that randomly appears and repeats! What happens in the nightmares, and the relationships made with the monsters, isn't self-contained. The two most potent examples are probably the tattoo from the Blue Mascot, and Roe's relationship with Braun.

To be honest Roe and Braun's relationship is I think one giant example of this and I'm probably going to do a whole other post about their relationship. For a majority of the novel the consequences of messing with, or making Braun mad have been built up. Roe is terrified both because of all the stories of people mistreating haunted dolls, and also because he saw firsthand how powerful Braun is. And when the time comes that it happens, Roe makes Braun mad, its sufficiently terrifying. There was no way for Roe of the alien coalition rescuing him to defeat Braun through brute force, and remember. Nowhere is safe. There was nowhere that Roe could run where Braun wouldn't eventually find him.

Actually, thinking about it, I'm noticing a theme as I type this out... Because with both Braun and Blue Mascot the only way out of the situation, the only solution, was to talk to them, and isn't that interesting? I'll have to make a different post analyzing that...

Anyways, I've gone on for long enough now, conclusion is that I really love this novel and idk what I'm going to do while I wait for more chapters to accumulate...

[dai-mondai]

The Yunos and their dates

Here's I'm going to dicuss each Yuno and what I think happened in each of the dates she went on

This post will only cover the non-leads (Green, Ribbon and Heart), I'll do another post covering the main two.

Before I dive in though I want to establish a couple things.

One, I am assuming each of them are with a different client. This is because of this question and answer.

Since she's wearing different clothes and hair in each of these setting I'm assume first that the cilents are different, unless there's something that supports otherwise.

Two, I'm going to colour code and refer to them as the following

Umbilical - School Uniform Yuno

TearDrop - Lingerie Outfit Yuno

Heart - Karaoke Yuno

Ribbons - Car Yuno

Green - Skyview Yuno

And three, have fun! This, like many of my posts, are to gather my thoughts about these characters.

First let's talk about Green.

"Where'd you get your half-baked sense of justice"

There's not as much that I can say on her but we can infer her date from these three images.

“Good morning” “Good night”

Together they're on a very high floor enjoying the view. Maybe the top of an apartment? It looks to be around mid-day with how bright the sky is. How many stairs would she have to climb? She's always the third one on the spiral staircase.

"Just me alone, the warmth starts fading away / Just me alone, it really is lonely. Let’s reload the warmth"

Though never the highest.

Anyways, she looks a bit bored on the staircases, at least the view is nice. There's nothing noticeable on the client's stairacse. Perhaps there's not much to them.

"Even this makes you happy right?"

Late into the evening, they're having a drink. Though it doesn't look like she has touched her drink, and there looks to be a small desert on the left? So this probably isn't dinner or anything.

This is a new floor, lower than the previous one, the buildings look closer and the design of the windows are different. The view is great, you can see Toyko Tower! The client has a very nice place, assuming it's the clients place.

"The episode reloading on an endless loop"

Or maybe not.

Look at Tokyo Tower, we could only see the top of it before, now it's more eye level. And now the windows go all the way to the floor! Is Green and her client checking out every floor of this building? What is this building anyways?

Huh, The Prince Park Tower Tokyo? It's the only one nearby that's tall enough with a similar roof I believe.

Which means first they were at the top of the building for sight seeing, then probably enjoying one of its many lounges for the evening. Most likely the STELLAR GARDEN Sky Lounge with it's view and it be very close.

And then ended the night in one of it's guest rooms.

“Good morning” “Good night”

Mostly one like the Panormic King Room with it's tall windows, but perhaps any Panormic Room.

Assuming the Client isn't a member, booking a room like that for a nigth ranges from ¥80-¥100 000 for the night.

So let's say it's ¥90 000, that would make it around AUD$947.72 (or USD$594.50)! And that may not be covering the lounge!

Her client was determined I'll say. I'd think he may be cheating, taking her to a hotel. And she probably knew this.

"Even this makes you happy right?"

But let's recap the date. They both arrive at The Prince Park Tower Toyko, early on they go to the top of the building to enjoy the view, that Green enjoyed enough to highlight, then they shared an evening in the Sky Lounge. Afterwards they hed to their Guest Room for the night. Maybe have breakfast in the morning depending if the client booked with provided breakfast.

And that's that? Seems like it! Though I could speculate on the client.

One, possibly a repeat client.

"The episode reloading on an endless loop"

Two, this client may be cheating with the lengths they went to be private, or they just wanted a very nice night (doubt). But yeah, she's calling out someone's sense of justice and it's not just Es/Audience.

That's all I do for Green for now.

Next on the list?

Let's do Ribbons.

"I'm the one who chose, let you and you and you all in"

Now she's a bit more interesting. Let's see what's up.

Also Minigram Ribbon!

"I want to be with you as many times as I can"

Alright, no leading on this time. She's likely in Yokohama as you can see Tokohama Cosmo World in the background.

I think the view is Minato No.1 Bridge, due to the railings, which is part of Kishamichi Promenade, a waterfront walkway that has an old railway inbedded in it. It's considered a Historic Walking Area.

Her and her client went on a walk in Kishamichi Promenade. Neat. So this client is more of a sight seerer.

It's very bright out, so I'll say around mid day again.

Also before I forget.

"Let's reload the warmth / The lies are endless"

She goes from being the highest on the staircase to the second lowest. And there's shoes, big bag and a present on the client's stairs. Also the order of images goes from her picture being shown last, to first, first and first again. She seems important.

"That is probably an amazing thing"

She doesn't seem too happy. But it's amazing, probably.

Next we see her, she's in a car. Looks comfortable? If the client is a sightseerer then they need a way to get around. I'll assume it's the client's car.

We see her with a B-MOOE bag that she didn't have before, maybe it's the client's? Though it isn't on the staircase at all. It's odd to say the least. I'm not sure what B-MOOE would be in reference to.

She also has a drink as well in a clear cup and straw. So they went out for drinks.

It's bright out so it's still daytime.

Desire, bestow, and desire again

She appears tired.

Her skirt is askewed. She finished her drink in the cupholder and is now drinking bottled water(?). The bag is gone. Still in the car, chair now reeled back. But now it's late. This is probably after having sex with her client.

So recap: They go to Kishamichi Promenade and walk on the Minato No. 1 Bridge. Then they get into the car, at some point get drinks, and spend the night in the car.

The client, eh, maybe not be in the car for so much of it? I don't think she's the biggest fan of this client either. But maybe that's just my likes and dislikes.

Now there is a reason I called her Ribbon, as her hair has the same yellow ribbons as the balloon.

And this means the baby, represented by the balloon, is mostly likely Ribbon's Client.

Unfortunate for Yuno, as that wasn't whose baby she wanted

She eyes for the Red Ribbon. She wanted to have Heart's Client baby.

Though she most likely only learnt this after conception.

Which brings us to Heart.

"Happy or sad? Why decide?"

This one will be fun.

What day is it tomorrow?

Now who's that in the background? It's Hachiko!

In Shibuya, Tokyo, Hachiko is considered a must see Statue in Toyko.

Its of a faithful akito dog, who waits for his owner 9 years after his death. Very devoted.

A part of me wonders if Heart wanted to see the statue a lot too, after all she likes dogs.

In any case, she seems to be enjoying herself.

I should mention her stairs too.

"Just the two of us, I feel a little tingle inside / Just the two of us, I finally found it"

Just the two of them

She's at the bottom of both staircases, the most grounded. She goes from looking straightforward to happy. A lot of stuff on the client side. More gifts I believe.

"I know you will respond that way"

They're doing karaoke! Isn't that fun. Hey wait.

Hey Yuno likes Karaoke! Dogs and Karaoke, seems like a pretty great date.

Though unsure where exactly they're doing the karaoke. In Shibuya likely, it seems to have quite a few karaoke bars, though I don't have enough to figure out if it's a specific bar.

Also her bag is gone, might as well take it off.

"The fading warmth makes me anxious again. Tear drops succumb and fall"

Still in the Karaoke booth. Vampire playing in the background. The fact that Vampire is associated specifically with this Yuno and Client is pretty forward. Especially in the middle of it.

Wonder why she would kill this client when it seemed like they were having such a good time. Even seemed like she wanted to have their child. She took the time to put everything back on and do her hair afterwards.

Huh who said that.

Anyways recap of Heart and her client. They went to Shibuya, saw Hachiko, did karaoke and nothing else happened at all. Completely normal day.

So that is what I think how Green, Ribbon and Heart's dates went, aswell as some random stuff about them. All very interesting and different days. I'll talk about the other Yunos at a later date. Maybe.

Hope you enjoyed <3 I'm so tired (eepy)

English Translations from MILGRAM Wiki

Yuno's First Trial Interrogration Questions - Milgram Fancult (Nyanko) (Marshmallow-qa)

[toxicanonymity]

hate stalker context

Note added for context: A "confessions" account has been posting anon hate for the past week or so, mostly toward writers in the pedro pascal fandom. A parasocial hater of mine discovered the account and has been going to town. I posted this after a particularly revolting analogy they used.

Obviously I am disgusted and floored that anyone would post such a deranged analogy in the interest of stirring up fandom drama. I'm very sorry to everyone who has been attacked and everyone who has witnessed all this. Others have posted about the situation as a whole, and I'm not sure what I could add. But I want you to know many of these "confessions" are from one individual who has been fixated on me (and probably others) for weeks if not months. I already had the following in my drafts:

warning: please don't read this if you're sensitive to hate or could be triggered by the trivialization of real abuse. (edit: they went on to trivialize genocide too but they'll pretend to be different people). there's also a really gross anatomical reference.

the screenshots below are all from after I blocked this person

I normally don't address things like this, but that's only because I'm trying to keep it off your dash and off my blog. This is for several reasons, including not wanting to give the hater a larger audience for their message. Normally I block/delete. But thanks to a blog dedicated to posting anon hate, some of this is already on the dash, and I thought some additional context could be illuminating.

a couple weeks ago, this person chimed in on my non-fandom post, and their comment made me uncomfortable. I checked to see if they followed me and they didn't, plus their blog tagline was antagonistic - "bs smeller from a mile away." So I was confident they weren't being earnest. I replied, taking issue with their comment and asking them to keep their thoughts to themselves rather than coming at me from a sideblog. I wrongly assumed they must have followed me from a main account since they somehow found an un-tagged, un-reblogged post without following me. But I now realize they were simply hate checking my blog.

These first ones are from their burner after I blocked the account that started it:

(Blocked the burner too)

I won't be dropping this creep's url in this post, but I had never heard of them. This week they have repeatedly changed their url, display name, and blog appearance. Their writing is recognizable and I believe they are also responsible for the unhinged asks preceding katy's departure from tumblr. They also made a rude comment on her post.

They were saying this last bit preemptively - I've never talked about stalkers here. I didn't include all their anons, just enough to show they clearly out themselves as being the same person. In other "confessions," they make repeated references to a former fandom writer they idolize (not me) who they also posted about on their blog.

This may only aggravate them. I expect them to hurl any lies and accusations they can think of toward me. They will act like they're laughing and amused, too. You may recognize their tone. I want to trust people not to automatically believe and repeat things they hear, but unfortunately my experience in this fandom leaves me pessimistic.

I can only hope people use common sense at this point.

Note - I know I'm normally really private about everything, but you're welcome to share this. Their lies are already out there anyway. Also feel free to DM me and I will tell you what you want to know.

Update: the anon-hate account referred to above has deactivated. It was named pedgeconfessions. It wasn't the first to pop up this summer and may not be the last.

[saiintvalentiine]

Notes: this is basically a bit of writing practice. its only dialogue, and i tried to convey as much possible within that limitation. i had fun! so here it is. unedited as usual. both dividers are from here

Summary: fickle conversations between the director and wifies, post mortem.

Word count: 645

You were always the most obnoxious person to direct.

"I'm not apologizing for that."

I do not expect you to. You are unrepentant.

"...Down there. That's the world?"

Yes.

"And I can see it?"

Obviously.

"Why?"

Would you rather not be able to see anything at all?

"No!"

Then do not question it.

"He forgave Ash."

Very interesting.

"Why would he do that?"

Shouldn't you know? Is it not your constant nagging that changed him?

"Has he really changed?"

I am not omniscient like that.

"Oh."

If I had to guess, and I will have to guess to successfully orchestrate this, I would say no. He hasn't really changed. He's shocked with his grief.

"Shocked with his grief."

Yes.

My, you even look like Ophelia.

"There's no river to lay in."

No, not the Millais. The Waterhouse.

"That's dumb. I didn't kill myself."

Didn't you?

"Am I the only one here?"

Yes. You and I alone.

"Oh. Why?"

Because you have the will to withstand it.

"Why do all this?"

It is fun.

"I guess."

You should understand the feeling of a game played well.

"I— why would I know that?"

I am not omniscient but I know many things. That is what made you so difficult. You and your game strategies.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Oh, I suppose not.

"So... you know other things, right?"

Many other things.

"Does that mean you have a favorite book or something?"

Picking a favorite is like choosing a child to save in a fire.

"It's— there's no way it's that drastic."

I am very fond of Hamlet lately.

"The Ophelia comment should've given that away."

Yes. You are smart. You would have understood eventually.

"If this is a game, then who are you playing against?"

It's like a game, not quite a game.

"What is it then?"

Maybe a story is more apt.

"This story sucks."

You are all very bad characters. Very unruly.

"Are you defending yourself?!"

I am merely stating facts.

"Mystery god who can't even corral it's own characters. Yeah. This sucks."

Your lot call me the director. Maybe it is more like a movie, then. Characters played by actors who think they know better than the director.

"Well we do! We do know better! It's our lives!"

Bold words from a man living on borrowed time.

"..."

You are thinking of how you can communicate with them.

"How can you even tell!"

It is obvious.

"Of course that's what I'm thinking about. I— I can see everything up here. The board, it's so clear."

Listen to me close child: divinity is no easy hand to take. That is why this world has no seers, orators, hearers. It is to heavy a burden to bear.

"I could bear it."

Divinity is like marriage. Hand in unlovable hand. And you may only ever marry once. Do you understand?

"..."

You understand.

"... I'd like to go back sometime anyway."

I have no plans to allow such a thing. At least, not yet.

"Ugh."

Unless, of course, you allow me to puppeteer you.

"No."

Worth a shot.

"... Was that what you were doing with Ash?"

No. Ash wanted power. As long as he adhered to my machinations, he'd have power.

"Pretty good deal for him I guess."

You, however, cannot have what you want. So my only offer is puppeteering.

"No thanks."

Suit yourself.

You are very interesting.

"That's not comforting to hear."

You are very empty, yet difficult to control.

"Wh— huh?"

Very little soul. Space aplenty. And yet you are so resistant.

"I don't even know what to say to that."

Silence is an apt choice.

"Right."

"Do you plan for anything to ever get better down there?"

Only if the audience cheers for it. Only if it fancies my humor.

"Ah."

Losing hope?

"No. No. Never."

Hm. Yes, very interesting indeed.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

I have some really important information that may concern you and a blogger on Tumblr that I think you might know of, or could be mutuals with…

This was an anon send in that can be found on this blog [censored, blogger doesn’t want people to mistake them being part of the drama, and does NOT SUPPORT the following bigoted beliefs]…

“Ew, you're collaborating with a white supremacist's best friend?

Just a heads up, but @fangdokja-anon has been called out by multiple authors here for being homophobic, fatphobic, and racist, as well as making multiple problematic posts (like wanting to write about genocide and infant SA). The only person who publicly supported her was @yanderedrabbles who praised her in the comments and even made a post to defend her friendship.

It's your choice to have her as a writer for the zine, but please make it public knowledge so people can at least opt out. I myself won't sign up to share space with a bigot.”

Then there was this follow up post by the same anon, who goes into detail of the issues above…

“Sorry for the sudden accusatory ask, I'm one of the people who unfollowed @yanderedrabbles after she openly expressed her support for the homophobe and I was annoyed to see her acting so careless on another blog I follow. I guess she's hoping we'll just forget about it at some point and keeps quiet on her main.

Here's the first post where she explained in many empty words she doesn't care about the issue because the blog has been nice to her and they're friends: https://www.tumblr.com/yanderedrabbles/780435897593315328/hi-idk-if-your-mutuals-with-fangdokja-but-shes?source=share

The problematic post on @fangdokja-anon blog has since been deleted or removed, but I have a screenshot of @yanderedrabbles commenting on it with ‘THATS why your pro pic went all blurry when I logged in. Literally freaked me out so bad. I'm glad to see you reorganising fang! Gonna learn to use AO3 just for you 😘’ while the rest of us were freaking out at the atrocities mentioned.

Instead of coming out and telling us why she chose to publicly support someone who fetishizes stuff like concentration camps and pedophilia she's all giddy about writing for a yandere magazine, like we're dumbasses who'll just swallow up any content. The audacity is amazing.”

Hopefully the last follow up post by the anon that goes into some more history/evidence…

“The post that started this whole drama is from December, but it didn't gain traction until some bigger blogs like ozzgin and moyazaika talked about it, which happened recently. It's still available and you can read it for yourself, including the paragraphs where she explicitly says she doesn't support LGBTQ+ content: https://www.tumblr.com/fangdokja/770117292416712704/blog-rules-guidelines?source=share

The main conclusion from it was that she's (@fangdokja-anon) homophobic, though more people pointed out she's made questionable statements in the past, too. It should've stopped there, but then she made a post basically explaining that she's been gathering an audience so she can switch to different platforms (her website and AO3), where she can finally write without censorship. It was an extremely cringe story about her ‘shackles’ coming off, listing a bunch of offensive topics from the Trigger Warning Database and saying that nothing is sacred and she won't hold back. (Yes, it included the part about children and infants not being safe from it) Same blogs called her out again and she proceeded to block everyone who interacted with those posts. I guess a lot of people reported her blog since it's now hidden and tagged as ‘mature’, for which she had a meltdown.

Anyway, friend (@fangdokja-anon) is against queer people but you (@yanderedrabbles) argue she's actually kind because you haven't been targeted? Suspicious, but I let it sit.

Friend (@fangdokja-anon) publishes entire paragraphs about wanting to write downright atrocious content and you (@yanderedrabbles) comment how excited you are for it? Yeah, that doesn't work anymore, sorry. You're clearly ok with it and that's fucked up. Go support your cult member somewhere else, not in my gay household.”

Since this all seems to be true, please reconsider any relationship you have with @yanderedrabbles and @fangdokja-anon

That's a lot to read and I do not follow these people.

[shattered-system]

The “Redefinition” of Systempunk

Updated version!

We're not typically an essay kind of blog, but there's something l've been turning over in my mind since l've seen it.

I have the post pulled up now actually, and about 11 hours ago @/the-alarm-system "recoined" (stole) the term systempunk in a long post, as well as designed a flag with its own meaning and I want to sort through some of it.

I also have a few personal pet peeves about their flag design, given that it's color palette clashes and the flag is way too busy. I don't expect it to spread far given that it violates several rules of good design (saying this as someone who has been to school for graphic design.)

I will not post it here, because I don't care to spread it any more than this post already may.

Their flag slightly predates my own version of the systempunk flag, but given that theirs was created for a separate concept with a stolen name, I maintain that we were the first.

We begin with their definition of systempunk.

“A term or Subculture surrounding the liberation of plurals and the critique of psychiatry."

First issue lies here. Both the destigmitization of dissociative disorders and critique of the psych field are extremely important discussions to have!

But they are separate discussions. There is absolutely overlap, but combining the two here is kind of shooting yourself in the foot, because then the conversation in that tag will be disorganized.

Have a systempunk movement AND an anti-psych or psych-critical movement. That way people can easily find the relevant discussions and terms.

This is followed up with a bit about the harm the psychiatric field has caused (not delving into that as that's not what this blog is about) and then circle back onto "the future is plural."

This is not one of the instances where OP means it in the "the future is destigmitization" sense, as they are pro endo. (On a side note, even ignoring the endo use of the phrase-- if I need to read about a slogan to understand the meaning of the slogan, it's a bad slogan. The point of a slogan is to communicate a concept quickly.)

The flag has black and brown stripes akin to the progress flag to represent systems of color, which is the only part of the design we have no critique for, but are describing anyway just as a bit of information.

The purple stripe stands for:

“Endo solidarity... endogenic systems are continuously harmed by antis who remain uncritical of psychiatry."

Once again, we are mixing two expansive concepts into one term.

The term anti-endo doesn't imply a position one way or the other on the psychiatry discussion.

Some anti-endos swear by the DSM5, others don't. Anti-endo is a term that means anti-endo/ endo-critical. That is all it means.

There is a difference between holding the DSM as the complete authority on mental illness and saying that a trauma disorder is caused by trauma.

I'm not sure if OP knows that and is choosing to cast anti-endos in a bad light, or legitimately confused. However, OP is a syscourse blog who is on a lot of blocklists and is spammy in the tags, and has likely been blocked by anyone who isn't also out looking to pick immature fights. (This is a system who made a post in all caps calling for an endo raid on #systempunk.)

Continuing directly from the last quote:

“[Antis] are against the liberation of plurals and deny a plural future in order to push singlethood onto others."

It's possible OP is referring to final fusion, which the anti-endo community is not a monolith on either. Most people we've interacted with are supporters of functional multiplicity (including ourselves.)

Most likely however, they mean that anti-endos "push singlethood" by telling endogenics that they can't have a trauma disorder without trauma.

And I could go into a whole tirade about that, but dozens of systems have done it before and I doubt any pro-endos have gotten this far. I am writing this for the anti-endo and on-the-fence audiences.

Visit @antimisinfo's helpful masterpost for a list of legitimate sources.

OP seems to believe that by “forcing” this singlethood, we are contributing directly to the oppression of systems. Hypocritically, OP themselves are contributing directly to the oppression of trauma victims.

Endogenics are not part of the "diverse experiences of plurality” (we are diverse, but united in origin) given that they don't exist. And if they did, they would have such a fundamentally different experience than trauma-formed systems that both groups would need separate language and tags to have space to themselves.

And endos already have a well-established punk tag for themselves. It seems they won't be happy until they chase trauma victims out of every space they create for themselves and steal every term. They've already stolen even the medical terminology used for CDDs.

The yellow stripe of the flag is meant to represent those with actual CDDs. Once again, psych stuff is brought up. However, I do agree with OP that those who do not want final fusion should not be pushed into it.

The pink and white stripes of the flag are entirely dedicated to anti-psych points. I think this would do wonderfully on it's own flag. But bringing the large range of discussion the anti-psych movement encompasses and the large range of discussion the CDD community has into the same tags is going to make it monumentally difficult to find the conversations you're wanting to have, and weaken both communities considerably.

There is a line of barbed wire across the flag that is partially for the same anti-psych movement as well as in favor of protecting and defending endogenic "identities." The ampersand stands for plurality.

There are fangs on the flag as well, encouraging systems to be loud and proud about their existence. And I agree that systems should make themselves known. However, endogenic systems don't exist, and their promotion will continue to drag us down.

I have read testimonies about traumagenic (real) systems being fakeclaimed or denied treatment by healthcare experts who, through exposure to endos, came to the conclusion CDDs are fake entirely.

Real systems seeking treatment and help after a lifetime of horrific abuse are being denied care.

Not to mention the setback of social acceptance by endos.

“Force plural liberation down the throats of others. Force the future to be plural."

[evertidings]

heya kristi, may i have some advice? i'm finding myself stuck at a wall as i'm attempting to make my first ever if and it's intimidating to say the least ;; while i feel so so inspired by wts and other ifs, on the other hand i strangely feel pressured?? to make something worthwhile? creating a story takes time and it's a long investment but i can't help but want to rush myself into putting something out there quickly... how do you pace yourself?

Ah, this is a late response so I'm not sure if you need this anymore, but reading this really resonated with me so I'm going to reply anyway.

Comparing yourself to others will always be a rabbit hole you can't escape. You might look at me and think I've done pretty well for myself, but I also have days where I feel inadequate. I'm aware that I'm not as fast of a writer as some authors and it kills me every day. Even worse is when I watch an episode of a TV show and I find myself thinking: "Oh, you should be writing right now," even though I have every right to wind down and have other hobbies. At the end of the day, you gotta realize that this is all in your head. No one is pressuring you to be faster or to do things you don't want to do—those are just your personal demons.

As long as you want to write this, I genuinely believe the pieces will fall into place from there, success and all. I feel like it becomes quite clear to your audience that your heart isn't in it, which tends to translate negatively. Why would I want to read a work that even the author doesn't care about, you know? You can tell when an author is passionate about their work and that energy is infectious. As long as you maintain your spark, that's all that really matters. In other words, if the story you're writing means something to you, it'll mean something to someone else.

In terms of pacing yourself, just go at a speed that feels right for you. Give yourself a word-count goal to hit every day or week, but don't burn yourself out. Make sure you're only writing when you want to. Hope for success but don't go into things with that as your only goal. Make a blog for your IF, talk about your work and get people excited, but be smart with your marketing and don't promote a demo that has 2 words to its name. I always tell people that a demo should come out within the first 1-2 months of first posting about it—that way, you don't lose interest but you still have enough time to build up hype.

At the end of the day, everyone works differently. I'm still figuring out how to manage things myself, nearly 4 years into doing this. Take advice that you know will work for you and shape it into something that's your own.

I know I went on a bit of a tangent there, but I hope this was helpful to either you, anon, or anyone else reading this with a similar question. All my love <3