#but even knowing that and knowing its not my fault it still!! isnt any easier!!

[iridawn]

irida autism oneshot

i wasn't kidding about this

it's a little rough. being full front about it, there's still a lot i dont know about my OWN autism, but i just kinda wrote something about her having a shutdown and dawn accommodating for it. it's not like, the best thing ever, but jewel box lite isnt supposed to be that - just fun short little writing drabbles for funsies

but yeah. poor girl gets overstimulated during a shopping trip and kinda just shuts down and leaves. her wife comforts her. its all gravy

Irida opened the door to the house that she lived in with Dawn very slowly, an exhausted expression on her face. She felt utterly and completely exhausted, despite it not being a very long day. Or one that she had done a lot in.

But she was exhausted, all the same.

She didn’t say much, instead choosing to very slowly make her way over to the couch that rested in the front room, and flopping face first into a pillow on it, grabbing the blanket she always liked and throwing it over her body.

Irida was exhausted, and it wasn’t even anybody’s fault. She had just gotten overwhelmed while doing some shopping, and though she intended to grab at least something, everything had just gotten too much that she basically just got the hell out of there and went straight home. It was a little embarrassing, and probably inconvenient, but she couldn’t help it. It was all way too much.

“Irida?” She could hear a voice from upstairs, and the noise of her wife coming down the stairs as she remained motionless, feeling too heavy to even move. “You okay?”

She gave a thumbs up at the sound of her wife’s voice, letting her arm effortlessly droop down as she remained face-first in the couch. She could then feel the couch move a bit as Dawn sat down to her side, giving her some space while still on the couch.

“Too much again?”

Irida grumbled lightly, which Dawn saw as a response to gently rub her back. She didn’t really say anything in response, but the comfort was nice, as it was kept gentle.

“No sweat. Just take it easy, Irida.” Her voice was low, but comforting – in an attempt to not cause her sensitivity to sound to spike up any further than it already had, which was greatly appreciated. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened – and it likely wouldn’t be the last, but Dawn’s support was very much appreciated.

Irida adjusted herself to have her head pop up, letting out a harsh exhale as she was unable to really breathe with her face buried in the pillow like that. Dawn had already gone through the effort of adjusting the lighting, closing the curtains to make it a little less overwhelming in terms of the lighting. She had even turned off the ceiling fan, keeping the noise down to a minimum.

She really did think of everything.

“...Thank you, Dawn.” She looked over at Dawn as she spoke, a small smile on her face. Her voice was a little more monotone than she’d like, but it was a given, from the circumstances anyway.

“No sweat. I’ll go get that sweater you like the feel of and go put it on.” Dawn got up, slowly making her way upstairs and coming back down after a bit.

Irida always liked cuddling her girlfriend, but the way that one sweater felt on her made it all the better. It had a very nice texture to it, so it’d be a good pick-me-up – if at least just a smidge.

Normally, Irida preferred to be alone in moments like this, though finding the time and space for it before was difficult. But with Dawn, it was so much easier, and she was very thankful for that.

After a while, Dawn came back, and Irida had already shuffled herself around to properly face Dawn, snuggling up close and wrapping her arms around her. The texture of the sweater made it a favorite of Irida’s, both to wear but especially to snuggle with. 

It felt very nice to have this moment to relax. Especially after the disaster that was that trip. 

“Mmmh.” She made a simple, happy noise of content, which Dawn responded to with a breathless chuckle, as Irida continued to rub her hands onto the fabric of the sweater.

“Any time. We can just stay like this for the day – I’ve got no plans, anyway.”

“We should find a good nature documentary to watch, later.” Irida looked up at Dawn. “I think one recently came out regarding the history of Mount Silver in Johto…”

“Oooh.” Dawn looked interested in that, a grin on her face. “That sounds pretty good. I’m down for that later, then. Can go get us some popcorn and everything. Don't worry - I'll make the trip for it.”

Irida let out another noise of content as she laid her head in her wife’s lap, just happy to be here and to get it all out of her system, if at least just a little. Rest was always important when she got like this, she had found. 

Dawn was always very accommodating, and she was very lucky for that.

“...I love you, Dawn.”

Dawn kissed the top of her head. “Love you too, Irida. So, so much.”

They relaxed like this for the day, enjoying the company of one another and allowing Irida the time to relax and shake off her shutdown from earlier in the day. Of course, even when she was feeling a bit more chipper, they still took it easy.

[mental-health-advice]

hi

im currently going through some things and i wanted to have someone else's pov/opinion on it, so thank you in advance for taking the time to read this

im the eldest daughter of a sea household in a foreign country. its just me, my mom and my sister who is 10 years younger than me. i was supposed to go to college last september but unfortunately i did not pass the entrance exam and was not accepted and therefore had to take a gap year (however am set to go to college this fall).

my sister isnt doing well in school mostly because of the language here. we speak in english at home but she was a baby when we came to this country so we expected her to learn it as she grew up. all her friends speak it but since she goes to a bilingual school she does not speak it unless she has to and even when her friends talk to her, she responds in english. so unfortunately until now her proficiency in this language is even worse than mine (which i barely passed my finals with) and she struggles a lot because of it.

shes off to middle school next year and we just learned that she might not be accepted into the school she and my mother wants because of her lack of proficiency in the language and because of other factors like disorganization, not turning homework on time or at all and etc despite the way both my mom and i push and guide her.

my mother has always blamed me for my sisters shortcomings but i feel that it shouldnt be so. throughout our life here i never had support when i struggled through school despite the language difference and the lack of help. on the other hand, i feel i have done a lot of things for my sister regarding school even when i was struggling thru mine as well. though not consistently, when she comes home from school, i sit with her and help her with her homework when she has questions, teach her in different ways, tell her how i did things in school to pass and to study but she never really internalizes them and is still very disordered and easily distracted. she prefers to watch and play on her ipad instead of studying and when she reads she always prefers easier books instead of recommendations i give to her. whenever they have tests we have to push her to study and thats only if she even remembers (+to tell us) that she has a test.

my mother doesnt help with my sisters education. she works long shifts and changing hours and so her schedule never really allows her to help with any of our education.

its not the first time and i doubt itll be the last but my mother came home today after having had a meeting with my sisters teacher who explained that my sister have had no visible improvement in the language and that she still struggles with many things my mother and i push her to fix. she was mad and as always blamed me for not doing enough, for not sitting long enough with her and teaching her and for everything my sister is failing to do. she says that if my sister does not manage to get into that specific school they want then she will not let me go to college (i dont know if she means it or not but she has said this multiple times before)

i dont understand why im being blamed. shouldnt improvement come from my sisters own desire to improve? i can push and tell her to do this, study more, do her homework and so on but if she doesnt do it herself without prompting then isnt it just for naught?

my mother often brings up that she would not be doing this to me if i had gone off to college but she has been blaming for all of my sisters faults even as i was struggling through highschool. she constantly tells me that there are people my age who are working and earning money and yet whenever i bring up the idea of getting a job she always tells me to just focus on my studies.

i just dont understand why my sisters sins are mine as well

am i playing a victim? is my mom right?

im sorry this got so long, i didnt want to leave out details and wanted to be as transparent as possible because leaving out things would make it biased. thank you again, i hope youll have some advice for me

Hey there,

I really believe that when it comes to education, we can only help others so much. We can sit with them, help to explain things, help with studying with them to try to keep the other person focused and on track, but in the end, the will and desire to learn and to do well in one’s schooling has to come from within. I think that your Mum is being really unfair with putting your sister’s failure or lack of improvement in her education on you and especially when you are doing your very best and spending so much time with your sister already to help her. With this being said though, is it possible that given your Mum is working such long hours, that she may just come home really frustrated at your younger sister and you are the easy target to vent or blame her frustrations onto?

I know that your Mum works a lot, but when she, for example, has a day off of work, could you possibly pull her aside and talk to her about this stuff and how it leaves you feeling? I know that you mentioned that your Mum said she wouldn’t put all of this stuff on you if you were at college but given that you are not at the moment it’s hard to know otherwise. By talking to your Mum though, and explain/ let her know/ show her how much time you put aside to dedicate to your younger sister to help with her education then perhaps instead of blaming you she will be able to see that you can only do so much. So again, with all this being said, it sounds as though your Mum is just frustrated and/ or perhaps feels as though she needs to blame someone and especially if she feels judged or under pressure from other family members or members of the public in general and especially if education is of upmost importance to them. If the latter is the reason, then maybe she feels like a failure herself in not being able to give your sister the life she wants too where anything is possible for her, including going to college. Just something to maybe think about and talk to your Mum about if you feel comfortable in doing so.

I guess that perhaps it may also be important to acknowledge that not everyone (unfortunately) finds education as easy as others and yes, they may struggle more through no fault of their own but just because of who they are as people. They may not be being lazy but just find the workload and context of it all overwhelming and just ‘too’ hard that they give up without even trying in fear that they will fail anyway. So perhaps, and I am not sure how things are in your family, but if excess stress or expectations are being put on your sister then she may be feeling this and this may be adding to own stress to do well or be better fit into the mould that your Mum wants her to fit into (doing well and getting into the school of her choice).

Of course though, all that I have said is just in my opinion but sometimes taking a step back, trying to find the root cause of any issues that may be making things so hard for your sister to learn may be of some benefit and will enable you to all move forward in the sense of her improving in her future schooling and studies. Everyone also learns very differently from one another, that it may also be possible that she just hasn’t found what works best for her in learning things.

Either way though, I do not believe you are at fault at all for your younger sister to not be performing to the standards that everyone would like her to at school. So please try to take comfort in that you can only help your sister so much, but in the end it is up to her to take on board all the support and help that you have been giving to her and to have that desire and will to want to learn herself if that makes sense.

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you, hope that you are going well and I wish you all the best with college!

Take care,

Lauren

[theendofuno]

okay….haii tl;dr: i want to throw myself from a reactor nuclear and besides loving this page dearly keeping it daily isnt helping me with these kinda of thought so ill start a god-knows-who-long hiatus

now *puts a music box version of meltdown by iroha for dramatic purposes* *cleans throat* pretending im talking to an audience its easier for me okay dont judge me :(

i dont know how to write texts but ill try my best to explain everything without going into too much annoying stuff but the text may have a few suicide mentions here and there

okay

i created this page in a very dark period of my life that never went away, it actually worsened everyday. it was supposed just to be fun and games, "oh this character didnt got released this month, maybe drawing him everyday for a month until he gets here will be very funny!!!" *stares at 2 years*

as you can see, i didnt had ANY prepare to keep going for the long we did, but this is 100% not a complain

i really love this page, i really do love everyone i've met, i love having this project with my best friend, but i cant and wont lie: it made me VERY worse than i already was. it made me feel good, it made me feel loved, it made me feel human again, and at the same time it absolutely killed me

having to keep this consistence everyday, having to do good drawings, not allowing myself to do what it was better for my own health just because i didnt wanted to disappoint people with silly drawings when the first week was all cool drawings full colored with a bunch of details, references and etc

i really lost my count of how many times i had a terrible breakdown or even an attempt and my first thought was just "yeah that sucked. anyway i have to work so people will have some art tomorrow!"

and to be honest i dont think starting this page with my friend was…..that of a good idea. i know youre here just for their art. you dont need to lie i know theyre better than i am and you would prefer to see their art everyday other than mine. dont worry the feeling its mutual

but well theyre a slow artist and i wont be the one forcing them to draw everyday, i am the one that can do it and thats what i did for 300 days until now!

but that was something that kinda broke my feelings also cuz im very harsh on myself and keeping comparing their drawings to mine, not only the quality but also the different attention it all got (and sometimes it was almost a 20 likes difference so..sucks to be me ig) isnt doing good for my little damaged brain. its 100% not their fault tho and im not saying it is KJGDKFDK but if im going to be honest then i will

i dont know how to keep going the text tbh,, so,, my point is that im havent felt well since i started the page, and i love it with my whole heart, and these feelings have nothing to do with uno, grand chase itself, or the community (maybe a 2% fault go for annoying people from twitter /hj), im just being a little egoistic and doing this for myself or otherwise i can go completely insane and well. psych wards dont look funny :(

i really feel nasty, an HORRIBLE human being, absolute egoistic trash by abandoning the page, i feel SO FUCKING BAD for not drawing my son, by not updating here everyday and allowing people to see the silly stuff i do, but i guess i got to my breaking point where i just cant keep ignoring my suicide attempts by drawing and keeping my mouth shut (really, my last attempt was so scary i didnt fully recovered from)

yeahhhhhhh

i guess that was it

i pinky-promise i'll try my best to keep drawing and posting everytime i can, but it wont be daily, and it may not be weekly also, but i didnt gave up and i WONT gave up, this page is my absolute pride and joy and i cant just let it go away for a bad mental day. i still love and forever will love uno and drawing him, and i'll be forever happy for everyone i've met and helped me even without they knowing, just by liking or commenting on my stuff

i hope you guys can forgive me for abandoning stuff right now and i hope y'all dont forget me. i wont be mad if you forget me. i'll just be a little sad. maybe cry a little *stares at you like that ( ���_◕)* but dont worry. its okay.

i'll be trying my best to get back posting daily at least around day 330, but dont put high hopes. please. dont expect much. bigs chances i'll be just dropping a stick man with a heart ahoge saying haiiiii and go back to posting silly ugly art

[lostandfem]

im a desister who was in the trans community for 11 years, starting so young i wasnt double digits in age yet. i feel like i missed out on all the experiences i shouldve has as a girl growing up. i feel so jealous of girls who got to learn how to be a girl. my boyfriend says i walk and talk like a boy a lot and i hate it. i wish i could move and talk with the grace that other girls learned growing up. when i first started desisting i didnt even know how to put on a bra. im growing my hair out and i have no idea how to take care of it. im so ashamed and angry about all the things i was supposed to learn/do as a teenage girl. i feel so bitter knowing ill never get to experience my teen years as a normal girl. its not like i got to experience them as a boy either. i lost all my teen years to this transgender bullshit. i feel like i have no identity anymore. i dont know if i actually want to be feminine or if i just want to finally fit in as a girl. i dont want to be masculine anymore because my boyfriend finds it unattractive. i dont even know how much of my feminity or masculinity is genuine.

this breaks my heart anon. i first want to say that you dont have to do any of those things to be a woman. you dont have to grow your hair out, you dont have to wear bras if you dont need them, you dont need to be feminine at all. but i know how hard it must be to be constantly alienated like that. there isnt some better life on the other side of learning to be feminine, just like theres no promise of happiness on the other side of transition.

start off small. dont try to commit to being either all masculine or all feminine. start off with something with you hair. are you doing that just becuase its labeled feminine? try your best to ignore the label, it doesnt matter if its masc or fem. just try to think of what you would like regardless of how its gendered by everyone else. easier said than done, i know, but take it small and slow. you still have a long life ahead of you. youre not discovering yourself at the usual time of life people do, but thats okay. that wasnt your fault. you have all the time in the world to do it now, and its something to look forward to! its a confusing journey, but its a lovely one.

also please please dont model your entire self around what your bf finds attractive. he should find you attractive in your truest state. if he doesnt like what you find then thats not the one for you.

you are a woman even if youre lost right now. youre a woman even if you dont know all the usual things girls grow up learning. your experience is different, but you still always have a place with us. theres gnc women that might share a lot of your experiences, too. if you need to talk, im open to it.

wishing you all the best anon 💜

[alcorian-cycle]

i cant go home. i dont want to go home. i cant do it.

i cant listen to her again, telling me my depressio n isnt real and im faking it as an excuse to be lazy, saying any drop in my grades is from me being lazy-- especially not now when im going through such a horribly aggressive episode, triggered by so many things--multiple health issues and protests and weeklong unscheduled schedule interruptions and seeing my therapist less and adhd frustrating me to the absolute ends of my frazzled nerves. my grades are suffering and im TRYING to get better and im using EVERY RESOURCE AT MY DISPOSAL RIGHT NOW but its still looking like its gonna be a difficult semester for my grades and i fucking despise the commentary that i know will be coming even though im an adult in college (and i cant lie about my grades, i cant)

i cant listen to the things she'll say about my cane, not after the way she talked about my chronic pain before i used it. i cant listen to her tell me its my fault and i need to stop being disabled as fast as i can. ive barely gotten myself comfortable using a cane, i am not prepared to take five steps backwards for the four steps i just took forward. i fucking begged her to let me see a physical therapist. while CRYING. i also asked to see a doctor back when it fucking started and was immediately dismissed. i dont want to hear her act (once again) like my chronic pain is my fault when, if its anyone's fault, its probably HERS for NOT LETTING ME SEE A PROFESSIONAL WHEN I NEEDED ONE.

im not perfect, im still struggling, but god are things easier to deal with when i dont have to also fight off a mother who thinks its her fucking job to make me feel like shit every time something bad happens to me

i dont want to live with her again but theres no goddamn way i can afford rent on minimum wage, especially not with my disability limiting my work options

[ray342]

i sit

tw: self harm

I sit, i sit. All i do is sit here and stare at this document, i stare at this piece of digital paper trying to push any thought of slicing my skin open out of my head. The girls around me speak of such simple things, shoes not arriving in time for formal, a male companion they found through snapchat, the trouble they might be in for ditching a certain day of school. These people around me i watch, they seem to be suppressing the urge to talk about numeracy, the class where in. After being directed back to work, they are left to refuse the temptation to gossip, to talk of irrelevant things to the class topic. They hide the urge to blabber, and i hide the urge to excuse myself to the bathroom. Of course i dont need to go, how could i after the malnourishment my body has endured the past days. No i crave the restroom for one thing, the privacy, the secrecy, the stall where i can sit alone and give in to my temptations. My stomach turns, and even this second as i type i can feel my right hand twitching and at times jolting out of place, i cant help but wonder if this is a much simpler and easier version of addiction? If my minds panic and cries for the thing i crave have lead to my body out of pure desperation, trying to force me to get that euphoria i want, or the release i need. 

I cant stop myself

I succumbed. 7 minuets of my confinement in one of the silent bathrooms many cubicles, hidden, has led to at least 18 small and shallow slices into my calf. The process of creating these did not hurt, not even a sting, but as i sit back down i can feel them start to sting as blood bleeds into the tissue i placed in my sock to contain the mess. This isnt enough, not even close to what i was hoping for to be frank. How i would have loved to stay in there longer and pressed the blade with all my might into that scared and traumatised part of my left calf. To watch as the string of open flesh slowly fills with beads of blood, giving me the feeling my mind yearns for. I look around myself, at the people surrounding me, anxiety pulling at the strings of fear in my mind, questioning if they noticed my long departure or think anything of it. Its almost fun to think that these people care, even if it gets washed away by the depressing reassurance none of them do, to them i am but a typewriter, the queer kid who doesn't have any friends, and unless i actively burst into tears or retched right here in front of them their interest would remain on absolutely anything else. 

Part of me is thankful i did not delve too deep in that alluring cubicle, if something were to happen that resulted in my carers being informed again, i might as well have just aimed for the veins in my arms. Its alright though, no one here will know, i have perfected the method of blending in, being anything but noticeable, like a bird stumbling with wire around one leg, a bird that will flap its wings and fly at any sight of interaction to such a wound. God, how could i think of myself like that, to compare myself to a scared innocent animal afflicted by nature or man, as if trying to remove blame from myself when i still cary the same blade i made these injuries with in my pocket. I know im to blame, i would like to accept it whole heartedly, but this quarter, tiny part of mind cries. This child, unable to accept that they are the problem, sobs and points the hand of blame at anyone but themself. My father? No. my past bullying experiences? No. my autism? No. school? No. i know it, i say it myself, i verbalise the blame and claim it as mine, so why cant i accept it? 

To think that this is a result of the worlds treatment to me, to belive its not my fault but a result of the pain i have been through, that my mind wouldnt be like this if id had a better upbringing, a happier life. I cant force the disgust out of me, the shame i get for trying to blame anyone but myself, a battle of refusal to accept, and fully accepting that this pain is made by me, and mine alone to accept.

[gloam-eyed-radio-tower]

January 20th, 2024

"I already feel like ill quit super fast

Uhmmm May 5th 2023, 12:30 pm" I didn't quit but when I said I would write to myself at chaotic time frames I clearly did mean it. Well I did write in my notebooks more, well in 2 specific ones, one right after may in june where I spent just 1 week writing in it, in a way it was an act of passion and the other one quite the opposite an act of love ( something that goes against passion ). I was thinking of doing a third one as they are cursed notebooks and I wanted to make a Gravity Falls joke but since 1 isnt with me anymore and the 2nd I was writing during a span of 6 months and finished on New Years I thought it was a fitting end of that. I...just need a place for this stuff and its easier for me to write here than in some scrappy notebook sometimes, ill think of a thing to do with them. The first time I wrote something here is when I finally started feeling better ( not again, before that point I never felt good ) at January 10th, 2022., before that point every year I was getting worse and worse over the course of my life but right when I did get better in 2022... my mom died, I ran away alone and planned to run away even further alone until I couldnt ( not because of my mothers passing, just something else I felt) and I came back, no matter how you try and fight it you come back where you are supposed to be. 2023 was a calm year, probably the best one I had maybe, I dont think about that stuff much, I got something back thats extremely dear to me, the only troubles that I did have were managing how I should feel about having it back and maybe some sort of fear of restarting the last 8 years all over again. I started uni, its nice, I am managing, tried to be more social but I feel like there is a disconnect that I cant brake on my own with the world... It snowed yesterday, I have a lot of thoughts always but I cant speak, write or draw a thing. I sometimes want to live more normally but I require other people for that, going places, maybe parties, even if I hate them I would go, drink coffee, maybe, but I need other people for that and I dont really have either family or friends for it. No matter how you look at it and no matter how many times I justify to myself that other people are a problem also and the world its all on me, its on my if I cant change any of that and if I cant change the world in the way that I like so I am at peace, as long as I am at fault for my life, I am at peace. I guess I did feel a little bit gloomy but it is comforting to me. It is still inside I am sure of it, it will always be, you will know what I mean. Anyways what was playing while I wrote this.

I played a lot of persona, done with the Prime Ministers palace, almost done with the game it does feel a bit sad ( and pathetic) saying goodbye, I did spend more time with those characters than with people in real life.

Also 1 photo from the time I spent with my brother and his girlfriend at the mountain, it was nice, there is a lot of pretty pictures tho.

I little bit longer than I wanted, but Ill probably forget about this until next year anyways.

[ithisatanytime]

Charli XCX & Troye Sivan - 1999 [Official Video]

 im gonna try to give a couple more examples to clear up and hopefully summarize my point on mass shootings but well see how it goes

 first scenario, imagine the united states racial demographics were more like 99 percent jewish and one percent white, so basically an inversion of the racial demographics prior to unchecked immigration from mexico and ignoring blacks for simplicities sake. this may come as a shock to you, but i dont really feel personal predjudice against your average jew, and in fact i get along better and identify with them a little easier because im nuerotic and intellectual and a film buff etc. however if in that scenario i was the only white man in a school comprised entirely of jews and i either didnt realize i was jewish or didnt understand the extant of the difference between our two peoples, i might be tempted to do a mass shooting! why dont i have any friends? why am i so different? why are these guys such massive fucking perverts i mean i get horny too but im not gonna straight up grab some chicks ass on the back of the bus and make her cry just because shes there and i might get away with it! and likewise my jewish peers might wonder why im so prone to violent confrontation, why i care so little about money or academic accolades etc. now if i were say a chinese foriegn nationals son named ping attending this school, many of those same challenges would be remain but the source of the discomfort would be obvious to all and wed work a little harder to bridge the gap, when the difference between two peoples SEEMS either nonexistant or subtle but is in fact a wide gulf, and the reason isnt clear, you start running into serious issues. in that scenario im the same man i am now, and over all, im proud of the choices ive made, not all but on the whole im glad for the man i ended up being, but in that scenario i would be convinced that there was something DEEPLY DEEPLY wrong with me, after all its not allll the other students who are wrong and IM right, but then what? what human could just decide that happiness was never for them, comfort was never for them, and the literal torture they are subjected to by their peers are their own fault and they deserve it? no one will do this, no one does this. in this scenario suicide is the OBVIOUS answer, but if you have your heart set on dying you have nothing really to lose, so why not take out your tormenters who are alien to you to the degree that you cant even see them as human and they feel much the same way about you.

 the other scenario hopefully will be brief and parts of it arent gonna make a lot of sense, but if you get it you will much better understand the underlying point.

 pretend its the vietnam war still, white europeans are killing south east asians, and sure there were some vietnamese and blacks fighting on the americans side and some whites on the other, but almost every war is fought along ethnic lines and this is not a coincidence but the true purpose of war, it is the survival of the fittest competition when applied to highly social animals like us. imagine in this scenario the united states somehow transported american teenagers into vietnamese schools, but outwardly they looked vietnamese and had artificial vietnamese memories implanted to better fit it (LOOK I TOLD YOU IT WAS A SLOPPY METAPHOR JUST BEAR WITH ME) suppose one of these american sleeper cells just couldnt fit in with their peers, even though outwardly they were vietnamese inwardly they werent and they felt no kinship with these south east asian people beyond the most base layer of politeness. in his isolation, and inability to understand anyone around him, he snaps and shoots up his vietnamese school... mission accomplished?

 i know thats confusing as hell, but what im getting at is these jew mass shooters arent doing anything that warriors havent done to neighboring tribes since the beginning of time, the difference is we had the genius idea of jumbling all these peoples up within the same border, under the same roof, almost like sharing a bed with a complete stranger. the conflict that arises is not just inevitable but benificial for the survival of the species, it IS the competition and it wont be put off for you or oprah winfrey or anyone, these are our instincts. people like klebold and harris, the tranny shooter recently, uncle ted the unabomber, even if they arent consciously aware that they are living basically alone amongst a potentially hostile foreign tribe, they know it on an intuitive level because it is instinct, and would do war from within our own borders against us.

[infiniteorbits]

mourn

i’m much too much.

there is so much wrong with me its almost hard to count. i don’t know why i feel like this. why i keep feeling like this. this is also so embarrasing and cringey and god so middle school. every single thought i have makes me want to rip my fucking head off. i hate living like this. i hate living in this body. i hate this body. my legs are short and fat and stubby and i have the most disgusting kankles. my fingers are short and meaty. my boobs go off in different directions and my nipples are ovular and so fucking big. my neck and chin are full of fat like my face where my eyes are so far apart. my nose is obtuse and bumpy and my teeth are crooked and yellow. and god my stomach. its so fucking large and round and disgusting and im a 32 and i used to be a 29 and now look at me. like a 29 is even good. and i want to blame this all on my birth control or growing up or whatever but does it even matter. i look like this. i walk around and talk and eat and exist like this. people look at me like this. or maybe they don’t. thats the dilemna right now. is it worse if they hate me or don’t even care? all of my friends. everyone even remotely connected to my circle went to a halloween party hosted by the guy i could like. everyone but me. am i too large? too loud? too annoying? why don’t they tell me they hate me? why don’t they tell me to fuck off and kill myself? it would be so much easier for me and them because they wouldn’t have to see me and i wouldn’t have to get hurt. it has to be my fault. there isnt any other way. when everyone leaves me i have to be the problem. but no one is telling me what i have to do. how can i make you love me? or even tolerate me? do i need to lose weight (yes)? do i need to stop talking (yes)? or does it not matter. is it some kind of intrisinc me-ness that you hate. or do you not even hate me at all. i’m a shadow, chiming in on conversations. a voice that can make you laugh but does not need to be named. and i’m crying and huffing and puffing in bed and its all so embarrasing. i thought i was past this. i thought i grew up and loved myself and i wasn’t 13 anymore. i thought i wasn’t unloved anymore. i want to disapear. i’m not gonna kill myself but i want to spend all of my frees in the library. i want to stop showing up to school. no one has ever reached out before when i leave— wouldn’t it be a blessing? i keep thinking about this comic that i saw on tiktok.

(image from the i am not okay with this comic)

“this is my gift to them.” let this be my gift to you. i’ll leave you all alone. you get to be free of me, which is something that i can finally see you all want. i won’t die, because that would require you to pretend you care, to pretend to acknowledge my existence. i can hide in the library, i can scurry to grab lunch then leave. i won’t talk to you in classes. i’ll get in, get out. i can be a ghost of someone you know, no need for ouija boards. and for some of you, im okay with letting you go. you didn’t seem to care that much before. but god, i really wish SW still cared. i don’t know why you hate me. i love you so much. i like to pretend that im angry at you and think you’re a bitch and i don’t care but i do. i remember sophomore year when you slept over at my house and we went sledding in the back yard on the same sled. and we laid down on that little hill and just stared at the stars above. it was so quiet, just you and me alone in the universe. i don’t know how you can leave me. i can’t ever leave you. i shouldnt be surprised when you’ve picked me up and dropped me down again and again, but i can never stop loving you. i thought you were my best friend. i thought i meant something to you. the beginning of this year, not even 2 months ago you said that. you said that i was different and real and you fucking loved me. what did i do? how did i become so uncool to you? i don’t care anymore what you’ve done to me i just want you back. i want to lay down on my sledding hill and stare up at the stars and feel the miracle of being alive with you. and i know if you ever read this you would throw up at how gross this is and think that i’m in love with you or something. i want to move away from everything and go to college and start over but i know that i’ll miss you. i don’t want to fade away from you. and i know i already have. thats the worst part. i know its too late. i know you’re gone. in my search to become a ghost you’ve died too. and you haunt me without intentions, you haunt me passively because i know you don’t care. haunt is such a physical word. there’s action, a meaning, an intention. you haunt me like a flame haunts a moth. you just exist, and it tears me to shreds. this is all psychotic and disgusting and creepy and i know none of you care as much as i do. not in the way that everyone is cold and calculating but in the way that i feel for things that don’t exist, i mourn friendships that could not die because they were never born. i’ll try not to see you all tomorrow. i give this to you with love.

[godspouse]

i would put this under a read more but im on mobile so i will be crying in the tags for a moment !

[royalwriteroftheuniverse]

A reminder to lock a door at the avenger compound

Suggestive but makes sense at the end. Steve has some laguage i always say 18+ no posting/publishing anywhere else

Rebloga are amazing nonreposting anywhwre including online or print.

"Steve what are you waiting for take it out."

"Well its not that-"

"Don't you dare say not  that easy. Its not complicated this comes out of this. Man can coordinate against alien attacks but can't  even-"

"I never trained for this shit."

"Please like none of the girls on the USO tour ever-"

"No they didn't."

"No one here-"

"No!"

"Oh my god. Ok Mr. kinky boots fine whatever  just pull or push whatever angle you want just hurry up will you It's  starting to really hurt."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Oh you are so not giving me a lecture right now."

"I'm just saying if you-"

"No. don't. I can still kick you and I have heels it will hurt."

"Just bend your leg."

"I'm bending my leg-it's all the way up to my freaking head. And IT REALLY HURTS."

"This isn't working-I'm serious i think-"

"You can't be serious."

"I just said I was."

"Steve it really hurts."

"Well why are you whining at me. It's not my idea."

"No but, naybe if you move back a little it'll come out easier."

"No. I didn't think it would- butter?"

"I am not using butter that's gross!"

"Vaseline? It might give us some wiggle room. You're too-"

"Don't say it!"

"Fine my fingers  are too big to wedge in there and pull the damn thing out. The space isnt big enough"

I'm on a couch Steve is in front of me and I noticed something in the window reflection as Steve's couch flaces the window. I crane my neck to the side.Pratically all of Steve's team mates and my boss are standing in the door way. Mouth gaping open even Nat's great. An audience.

"Look its not my fault. "

"Not your fault? Ok I'm calling it. That's too big for that I tried to tell you." Being very animated with his hands

"Oh I'm a that now? Steve what do you want? An appolgy you smiled and said sure when I asked and you only asked if I thought it would fit. I did. I still do. Maybe its just an angle thing."

"An angle thing ok im not an expert but isn't there only one angle for this?"

"Well i don't know."

"Its not an angle thing" Sam blurts out. 

"you heard the vasaline comment didn't you? God."

"You might want to go down to medical I'mm sure they could help" Sam  added.

"We could have a doctor come up here. Considering they're stuck together," Nat commented

"I think that's a bit over kill. Plus they'd probably use scissors or worse. I couldnt bear it that'd hurt too much"

"You what about me"

"Oh yea your  ego boohoo  I'm probably not going to able to walk right for a week Do none of you have any suggestions if you're just going to stand there then leave. Steve This isn't rocket science-youre the one that got it in there in the first place, Get. It. Out!"

Silence silence silence

Silence silence silence

More silence

"Steve can you at least let go of my foot so I can rest it on the couch. You'd think they'd never heard of a foot stuck in a (designer) shoe before."

[cynettic]

Hello, can I request a reaction with childe, albedo, xiao and diluc where their SO is pretty clumsy and one day, they (the characters) just snap and say mean things? Please end it with comfort or something nice, my heart isnt strong enough to handle full angst :')

Clumsy S/O x Genshin

Summary - As someone clumsy, the genshin boys often pay special attention to your little accidents and mishaps. One day they snap, comforting ending though ;-;

Pairings - ClumsyReader x Childe / Albedo / Xiao / Diluc

Warnings - A bit of possessive behaviour for Xiao- but otherwise, a tad bit of angst at the beginning of each one.

A/N - After I wrote Albedo’s hc I realized that seeing him angry… would be really hot. Might write up a degradation one after-

Childe

“Stop it! It’s not funny anymore!”

It wasn’t surprising that once again, you’d managed to trip on your own feet and now somehow the vase sitting on the stool next to the couch had fallen… and broke.

But it was the first time you’d heard those words come from him.

“What do you mean… stop?”

Childe had never said anything about your clumsy antics, always picking you up and laughing or teasing the situation off. On the occasion that you got hurt, he’d tend to your wounds and make you promise to be more careful. Of course there was always a next time, and next time, and text time…

Until Childe had enough.

“From falling- tripping over your feet and taking down everything with you! No one tumbles around this much… so either you’re just doing this for fun or- or…”

He began to realize after those words that he’d taken it too far. When glancing at your teary eyes and how your figure started to shake he knew he couldn’t take those words back.

He knew it wasn’t your fault, he knew you tried to be as careful as you could.

But it was so frustrating.

You were still laying on the ground from the fall, and he bent down to help you up. You didn’t look him in the eyes, and an empty feeling buried itself in his stomach when you stood up.

“I’m… sorry.”

It was you who spoke these words, shoulders still shaking. You knew it might’ve been frustrating or annoying for Childe.

The two of you are just standing there, Childe feeling ten times guiltier because you apologized, and you feeling terrible because you’d broken another vase and he’d yelled at you for it.

The two of you feel so bad about it- ;-;

It isn’t till Childe acts out and pulls you into a hug that you realize he felt bad for yelling at you. Sure he may have been frustrated, but it was only cause he was worried about your well being, he didnt want you getting hurt.

“Im sorry Y/n… I didn’t mean to act out like that. I know you're trying your best.”

Albedo

“What happened.”

It was supposed to come out as a question, his eyes trailing over the mess of his lab and the sorry pitiful state it was in.

It didn’t come out sounding like a question.

Seeing Albedo angry of all things was only a myth among the knights of Favonius, a joke to Klee, and a topic never brought up to the citizens of Monstadt.

Albedo? Mad?? Impossible.

Well, you were living proof that it indeed wasnt a myth to see the alchemist angry.

“I fell…” was all you said in response to his glare. “I wasn’t paying attention and I tripped against the table… I’m sorry…”

Of course you were sorry, just waiting for Albedo to get home and maybe scanning the lab and all his experiments while he was away. No bad intentions, but unfortunately your bad habit of tripping over your own feet summoned itself at the worst moments.

Usually, Albedo would catch you with utmost ease. A reflex he’d learned from Klee before she went sprinting out to cause more of a ruckus. If you were to get hurt, he’d usher or carry you back into his house before patching you up. It was always quick and painless, but he made you repeat why you’d fell and how to avoid it.

Albedo wouldn’t be comforting you now.

“You fell?” He simply asked, his tone menacing enough to know that it was something important in that jumble of experiments. “You seem to do that a lot nowadays don’t you?”

You’re at a loss for words, “I’ll help you clean it up… I didn’t mean to-”

Not wanting to mention how the glass shards had cut your hand, you stood up with wobbly knees to start picking up the pieces of glass. You were sure your boyfriend had put a lot of work towards this, and you felt terrible for having ruined it all.

Albedo isn’t a savage tho.

He notices the cut on your palm, and your shaky figure as you begin to clean up the mess you’d made. He knows that cleaning up the lab as soon as possible is important, but you’re still his top priority.

“Come here.”

When you don’t immediately go to him, he walks to you. Taking your wrists and getting a good view of the injury. He tugs you to the doorway to get you fixed up, and realizes that you’re shaking, a little bit too much…

“It… seems I was a bit too harsh earlier.” He fully faces you, expression softening. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t mean to, none of the items on the table were of any importance if it makes you feel better.”

Please let him wipe any stray tears if you do cry, he didn’t mean to sound so angry, and really doesn’t care too much about what was on that table. Poor man’s just had a tough day at work.

Xiao

“I worry for you, every single minute of every goddamn day- every moment that my eyes aren't on you! Why don’t you make it easier for me and just sit still?!”

Xiao is protective.

That fact is known, its accepted, you might even find it endearing.

But Xiao has lived a much longer life than you, he’s seen the people he loves crumple and drain away. Watched them fade from his life one at a time, so he’s dedicated to making sure you stick around.

He knows that eternity isn’t an option for you, so he makes sure that the time you both have together is s a f e . Which means yes, he will catch you every single time you fall. Especially if it’s off the Wangshu stairs that you somehow always trip on?

The poor boy worries excessively for you, so much that he will try to hurry up the process of clearing out the normal hilichurls or threats that lie around Liyue Port.

But on the very rare occasion that you somehow end up into trouble without him there…

You don’t yell “Xiao” like he told you to, you know he makes such an effort on making you safe, a bit too much… you don’t want to summon him to every trouble you have. You’re independent, one scrape isn’t going to kill you.

“I’m fine,” you simply say when he comes back to find your whole hand encompassed in bandages. “Just tripped.”

Xiao is not impressed.

He worries too much, far too much, and seeing you brush it off when he tries so hard to make sure you’re never in pain- he wishes you’d just sit still, wait for him and not trip on your own feet when doing such mundane things.

“I worry for you, every single minute of every goddamn day- every moment that my eyes aren't on you! Why don’t you make it easier for me and just sit still?!”

You’re obviously taken aback by the statement, “Xiao?” You offer him a comforting hug, trying to loosen his stiff muscles. “It’s impossible from protecting me from everything y’know… I appreciate your worry but I’m fine.”

But that’s a matter that is strained between the two of you, and will continue to be that way until either Xiao somehow lets go of his protective anxious faze, or you just accept it.

Either way, the boy will continue to catch you when you fall. Even if you broke apart from him, left him, you’d still occasionally feel the lightest touch when you trip over your feet and feel yourself steadied.

Diluc

“Are you doing this on purpose?!”

Just like Xiao, Diluc is fairly protective over you, especially if it concerns your health.

He’s often not quick enough to catch you, but instead picks you up in his arms and sits you on the table to make sure you’re not hurt.

You often get bruises, but nothing more serious. He makes sure to kiss them better- something you jokingly stated once, and he’s actually taken it seriously.

“Kissing it will make it feel better? You’re sure?”

Overall, Diluc was very understanding to your clumsy antics. Maybe even find it endearing on a hard day of work, either way, he’d never yell at you for it.

Until he had enough.

It’s exhausting, to hear something clatter and know that you’d probably tripped. Tripped and harmed yourself in one way or another, the options were infinite, and Diluc’s anxiety could heighten at the slightest crashing noise.

“Are you doing this on purpose?!”

Eventually it became too much and he asked you that exact question, hands tangling through his hair as he stared at you wide eyed, furious. There you were on the floor, just a single chair knocked down as you were beginning to shakily stand back up.

“No… of course not. I wouldn’t do these things for fun-“

It’s not like you enjoyed absentmindedly stumbling into objects, it just… happened. Diluc was usually so patient and understanding… so why?

“I know… it’s just...” he rubbed the temples on either side of his face with his thumbs, frown set in a line. “I keep worrying and worrying- every time I hear a noise like that…”

It doesn’t take long for him to sort this out through a conversation, and then settle that you need to be more mindful and careful, something you have to improve on. He will simply watch on the sidelines, catch you when he can, and coax you when you end up hurt.

[actualbird]

ive been wanting to ramble bout this for years (like since 2019 HAHA) but i held off on it because i figured the fandom phenomenon i was seeing was gonna be a one off thing. something thatd fade with time.

it wasnt. it's still here and so i wanna articulate what i think about

the fast food-ification of fandom

here’s the thing about fandom right now; we operate on social media platforms that are inherently fast paced. social media platforms these days prioritize new and popular content, but more than that, it creates an audience that is always searching for new content very, very quickly. 

tumblr is a bit of a lesser evil, in terms of contributing to this (still does, tho, dont think im exempting hellsite derogatory, LMAO). but twitter, imo, is a hellscape with a system that hammers this in so so much: the lack of an explorable archive, no account specific tag search mechanism, a timeline algorithm that shows an account's followers the popular tweets first instead of chronologically and oftentimes even if you follow that account you will not be able to see all the tweets that account makes lest you go to the profile specifically. twitter is built for "new new new!" and it's not its fault, i guess, cuz it was not designed with fandom interaction in mind. still, it's become a very popular fandom platform and the "new new new!" mindset the system promotes ends up seeping into the members of fandom itself.

and there’s nothing wrong with wanting new content. but the problem here, i think, is the speed at which we consume fanwork. and the lack of memory for fanwork thats already been made.

fanwork consumption feels like it's going 100000000 mph with these kinds of systems and thanks to the lack of a navigate-able archive or tagging system, it's nigh impossible to find something from even last week. an incredible piece of fanart or fanfic or any fanwork gets attention for 3 days tops before it's lost and very very difficult to find. things are so fast and it's harder to remember them now.

swerve to another point: the trend of silence

im gonna bash on twitter again (SORRY KJSFBSD, like, i do have a twitter btw so im speaking from experience. i'd like to make it clear im not bashing ppl who do like/use twitter, im waving my hands frustratedly at twitter's systems) cuz tweet wc limits make it so that literally not much can be said! additionally, to add comments in QRT takes attention/notifs away from original poster, so if u QRT an art with praise, OP will see that! but if ppl reply more praise to the art on that QRT, OP will not get notified so that praise might as well have been yelled to the void

im a passionate believer that if youve got something nice to say about a fanwork and/or the creator of that fanwork, say it on their turf so they can see it. twitter makes it easier for this to not happen. positive attention and feedback matters so so much to creators and im p sure im not alone in saying that i cherish each and every comment (be it on ao3 or tumblr tags/comments or asks) ive ever gotten

and like, i know the argument to that is "make fanwork for yourself! dont make it for attention, do it cuz you enjoy it!" and "for every feedback you dont get, theres many lurkers who value and love what you do!"

i agree with that first thing very much but only the bit that says "do it cuz you enjoy it!" cuz yea! fandom is about having fun! but also like...isnt the point of fandom the fact that it's not just you alone, but you in a community?

a big draw of fandom, for me, is that it's likeminded deranged nerds all obsessed about the same thing. these are people on similar wavelengths and theyre people PLURAL. do fanwork cuz you enjoy it but the implication that a fancreator should be happy in isolation doesnt make sense cuz thats not what fandom is about.

and as for "there are lurkers who silently enjoy what you make" well...why?

why not say something when youve got something nice to say?

be it fanart or fanfic or fanmeta or anything, if the thought already pops up in your head, why not say it somewhere the creator can see it?

i totally understand if youre shy or if it's difficult to put into words whatever your thoughts are, like, huge mood. but also fandom becomes an infinitely funner space to be in when people are saying things

even a comment thats something simple and short makes the current landscape of fast paced churning out of fanworks feel less like we’re shouting in a forest alone, and more like we’re shouting in a forest and somebody yelled “I LOVED THIS” back. it’s really nice.

this is not a criticism towards anybody, but instead just kinda like, an inquiry to how we consume and interact with fanwork, these days. it’s really fast. like, so fast. tags update daily with new things every single day, every second, and it’s easy to just look and look and not say a thing. and that ease of fanwork consumption also makes it easy to forget just how hard it is to make things. how hard it is to make anything at all.

so much heart and effort is put into every work in fandom, and ive always seen fandom as a space for unapologetic enjoyment and community. treating fandom like a fast-food transaction where u get a thing in 5 minutes and drive off is...well, i dunno. but for me, among many things, it makes us forget just how much heart and effort is in all things.

[satoruvt]

for a moment i forget to worry

pairing → xu minghao x reader

word count → 3196

genre → fluff + angst, college au ↳ tags: strangers to friends to lovers </3, college kinda sux, ROOMMATE CHAN MAKES AN APPEARANCE OR TWO, dance major minghao, reader is completely lost but its ok who isnt, lots of cute couple stuff, pov ur entire relationship with minghao. thats it, a sad break up scene, a solid amount of crying

summary → there’s something about minghao. maybe it’s the way he dances, vibrant and youthful, or maybe it’s the way he loves you. based off of hunger by florence + the machine.

warnings → i hint at sex but its pretty vague, i also mention a breakdown type deal (revolving around school/life after school)

a/n → first of all this was NOT supposed to be 3k words i dont know how it happened. second of all i’m only kind of happy with this HAHA i feel like the story itself isnt bad but i wanted it to match the song more ... idk :/ i hope u guys like it regardless !!!

pieces of you masterlist

The first time you see him is by accident.

Really - all you’re doing is trying to find Chan. You’re passing by the practice rooms, looking into them in hope he’ll be there, stopping to gaze at decorations and medals and trophies lined up on the walls. It’s when you approach a room that music plays from that you think you’ve found Chan, but when you gaze in, it’s definitely not him.

You don’t know who it is, but he moves like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

It’s hypnotizing, almost makes you want to drop your things and dance with him. There’s a sense of youth that comes from him and it’s almost overwhelming - but it’s not in energy, necessarily, but rather from the precision of his movements, the technicalities that he seems to both follow and break at the same time. Something vibrant seeps out between the seams of his body, colors you can barely recognize as they splash against anything they can reach. It’s almost tangible. 

You watch him long enough for him to finish his performance (an unknowing one) with the last notes of a song you forgot was even playing. His eyes meet with yours, slow as he completes an eloquent turn, and at the same time, a hand meets your shoulder.

A small wave of embarrassment washes over you, and you turn towards whoever touched you, effectively breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here?” Chan asks, hair still wet from what you assume was a shower.

“Looking for you,” you tell him, following as he starts to walk towards the exit. “I wanted lunch, and you owe me for that time I took your British literature quiz for you.”

Chan groans but agrees to pay, and you laugh, though the world seems a little paler than it did a few moments ago.

The second time you see him is by chance.

(Maybe.)

You’re waiting for a lecture to start, tapping your fingers against your laptop idly as you watch students trickle in last minute. It’s not a strict course, but it does start at nine in the morning, and most everyone shows up with a coffee.

You look down to brush a stray hair off of your table, and when you look up again, the dancer from before walks through the door, then looks right at you.

You feel a blush heat your face and it’s like he wants to make sure that you know that he knows, because he almost refuses to look away. You break eye contact first (like the last time, you remember for no reason) but still watch as his figure moves up the stairs, past the rows, and you hope he’ll just move past you too…

He doesn’t. He takes the empty seat right next to yours, and you don’t say anything, instead finding the peeling sticker on your laptop incredibly interesting. The professor comes in and decides that today he’ll take extra long to set everything up, apparently, and you want to scream.

“So,” the dancer says, voice quiet. It takes your breath away, the way he sounds. “Mind if I ask why you were watching me the other day?”

You cast a glance at him - not too long, you don’t think you could handle more than five seconds tops - and finally open your laptop so it makes you look busy. “I was waiting for a friend.”

“And?”

The smile in his voice is palpable. You’re already exasperated.

“You…” you start, finally deciding to look at him as some sort of subconscious power move. “You’re a beautiful dancer. It was hard not to watch.”

Beautiful doesn’t even cover half of it, but you figure he already thinks you’re weird for watching him, so you hold back the thoughts of youth and vibrancy and color. The dancer looks at you, almost blank for a moment, before a soft smile draws itself on his face. It makes your heart beat a little faster. He says “thank you” with a gentle tone, sincerely felt.

The class starts, and the two of you don’t speak throughout the next hour and a half. You type out notes on your laptop and you see him write down names of the paintings being shown on the projector, little thoughts and notes written afterwards.

By the end of class, your professor assigns an optional partnered project, and you’re more than prepared to head back to your apartment and start on it yourself. The dancer stops you before you leave, however, asks if you’d like to be his partner.

(And he says it like that, would you like to be my partner, polite and somehow sweet.)

You know your answer. “I don’t even know your name,” you stall, standing from your chair. 

“Minghao,” he tells you. “I’m Minghao, and I’d like for you to be my partner.”

You say yes easily, put your number into his contacts even easier. The sky is blue when you leave the lecture hall, trees dotted with pink and purple flowers, and it is all so bright that you forget it wasn’t this way in the first place.

The third time you see him is for school.

Underneath the excitement of giving Minghao your number, there is the knowledge that it’s for the sake of an assignment. He texts you the day after to ask if you’re free to meet up to work and you tell him sure.

(Sure is what you send back, but he doesn’t have to know that you burst into Chan’s room immediately after, plunging face first into his bed just to scream into his pillows. Chan had sighed, turned around in his desk chair to look at you, then asked what happened. He gave you two minutes to rant and then kicked you out, back to your own room.)

You and Minghao agreed to meet at the library on a day that neither of you had any afternoon classes, and you get there early, spend some time working on other classes. You have somewhere around thirty minutes to freak out to yourself before you see Minghao come in, dressed like he knows what he’s doing to you (which is really just a hoodie and jeans, but you think it’s the cap that really pulls the whole boyfriend look together), smiling when he finds you at a table in the corner.

“How are you?” is the first thing he says when he sits down, and you pull down your laptop screen a little to see him better.

“I’m good,” you say, feeling your heart pound. “What about you?”

Minghao sends you a kind smile. “Really good. Should we get started?”

You lose count of how many times you see him after that.

Meeting up to work on the project soon becomes just meeting up, and after the project’s done and turned in, it happens even more. You hang out and get lunch, send each other texts and stupid videos, take walks around campus together. The weeks pass, summer mellows into fall, then into the early days of winter. You develop a genuine friendship with him, finding comfort in his presence, looking for him wherever you go. 

(Although the crush is still there, potent and patient, stubborn in a way you’ve never experienced before. You wonder if it’s a sign of some sort.)

You’re in one of the practice rooms with him, sitting in the corner. You had a class nearby and he’d wanted to practice a little more, so you told him you’d work on your own stuff while he finished up and then the two of you could grab something to eat.

But you made a small error on your part - the dancing. You’d forgotten the way he moves (you haven’t seen him dance since that first time) and in no time at all you’re letting your screen go dark in front of you and watching him. Honestly, it’s not your fault, you really can’t help it. 

But of course he notices.

Minghao meets your eyes through the mirror and raises his eyebrows at you, and all you can do is look away, desperately try to get your laptop up and running again so at least it seems like you weren’t watching him for too long.

“You’re staring,” he says, long after you’ve looked away.

“Sorry,” you tell him anyways, immediate, quick. 

Then he says, “I never said anything about stopping.”

In a second, you look up from your laptop and up at him. He moves closer, crouches in front of you. His eyes are kind - they’re never not - but you think you see something a little more in them. “Sorry, I think I missed that last part,” you respond, blinking. Minghao smiles like you’re endearing.

“I said I want you to keep looking at me.”

You think you’re barely breathing when he shuts your laptop for you, slides it off of your lap and onto the floor (gently, with care, and it’s a wonder to you how he can focus on that right now). He practically crawls over you, one of his hands eventually reaching the junction of your jaw and neck and holding there. “I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay,” he says, but doesn’t move. You nod as soon as his words reach your brain, eager and quick.

And the next few hours get a little wound up in your head, a little mixed in with the feeling of his body - that moves so youthfully, with so much vibrancy that it reaches everything around you - melting into yours and the sound of him asking you to tell me what you need, honey, and the still-playing slow jam music he was practicing to.

You watch him sleep next to you, hand curled around yours against his pillows, and think that nothing bad could ever touch him.

The two of you… come together, after that.

Neither you nor Minghao use any proper labels, but you both seem to know. No labels are needed, really. You have each other and that’s all there is to it. And everything is really good.

You work together and laugh together like you’ve always known each other. He tries to teach you to dance with him when you’re in the practice room with him, pulls you up by your hands and guides you through your giggles. He was the first person you called when you realized that you had no idea what you were working towards, didn’t have a clue what you actually wanted to do with your life. He gets along well with your friends and you text his because they’re basically yours, now, too.

Winter turns back into spring, slow and easy. Vibrant and youthful. You’re not able to meet Minghao’s parents, but he meets yours (and you’re sure a quick introduction to his mom over a FaceTime call has to count for something). The two of you take advantage of the newfound warmth of the season and try to get out as much as you’re able to, with picnics and city dates and anything you can think of. A drawer in his dresser is reserved for your things, you bought an extra toothbrush for him to use when he stays over.

You watch him dance. It still feels like the first time, like color and breathlessness. You tell him he’s beautiful every time, feel yourself fall a little deeper when he still gets bashful amidst his comedown. You tell him you love him for the first time after he gets done with a performance - a proper one, for a showcase of the dance club he’s in. He says it back.

You think he put all the stars in the sky just for the two of you to gaze at them together.

Things shift the beginning of your junior year.

Minghao tells you about a program he’s applying to, a proper dance academy in New York that could really kickstart his career. Training under some of the best choreographers and performers in the world.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask him after he tells you, and he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. You’re studying at his apartment tonight.

“It’s just…” he frowns. “It’s so far away, you know?”

Oh. You hadn’t even thought about that, too caught up in the excitement of him being able to apply at all. A quick sigh leaves your lips, and then you reach for his hand, hold it between both of your own.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, though now that you’re thinking about it, you feel nervousness in the pit of your stomach. “We can work something out, though, when we get that far. We’ll figure it out.”

Minghao nods, a fond look in his eyes. He pulls one of your hands to his lips. “We’ll think about it if I even get accepted,” he says.

It’s bittersweet, but a promise nonetheless.

Fifteen minutes after you get a call from Minghao, there’s a knock on your door. 

You wouldn’t necessarily say you’re worried, but, well. Everyone’s experienced the jump of anxiety when they get hit with the “I want to talk to you about something” line. Nonetheless, you stand from the couch to open the door, mentally preparing yourself for any and everything. 

“Hey,” you greet when you see Minghao, opening the door to let him in. His face is unreadable. “Everything okay?”

He walks a few steps into your apartment, waits for you to close the door before turning back around to face you. Then he holds up a piece of paper, the creases from where it was folded still bending. You send him a confused look.

“I got in,” he says, a grin breaking on his face, and you blink, then feel your jaw practically hit the floor. Minghao only nods like he understands, and before you know what you’re doing, you launch yourself at him, holding him close.

“Oh my god, Hao, that’s amazing,” you say into his sweater, then step back to get a proper look at him. Youthful, vibrant. “I’m so proud of you.”

He seems to soften at your words, pulls you back into him again with a gentle kiss to your head. “Thank you for believing in me,” he tells you, tenderness palpable in his voice. All you can do is squeeze him tighter.

Minghao spends a lot of time away from you after that.

You’re not really hurt in any way - even though he got into the academy in New York, he still has to practice. You get it, this is important. He doesn’t text you as often, isn’t able to stop by as much, and you miss him, but you know how much this means for him. But it gets… weird, almost, after a while. Strange, even for him. It feels weird that he’s set to leave at the end of January and it’s December and he’s distant.

Both of you are laying in your bed, looking at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, when you decide to bring it up. “You’ve been… kinda far away lately,” you start, nudging him with your shoulder gently. “Everything okay?”

His eyes stay on your ceiling, but you feel the way he sighs. “It’s about the program,” he says.

“Okay.”

“And about… you and me.”

Oh. That doesn’t… sound the best. “About, like… what we’re gonna do?”

Minghao nods.

You say, “I wouldn’t mind visiting every so often. It’d be hard, but I’m sure we could find something to work.”

Minghao shakes his head, says, “no.”

You pause, and when you look at him he’s already looking at you. What does he mean by no? Does he want you to move with him? Or does he -

He reaches for your hand and you think oh.

His eyes are a little glassy. You feel the tears come, too.

“Oh,” you say out loud. Minghao squeezes your hand. “So this is… this is it?”

Your room is suddenly cold, and you want to crawl under the covers and stay there. The person in front of you is blurred into something unrecognizable, but you can’t be bothered to blink away your tears.

“I think so, love,” he whispers back to you. “I think it has to be.”

The two of you cry like that for a while. In your bed, loosely intertwined and broken. Even the way Minghao cries carries a kind of vibrancy that’s overwhelming, makes you think of the first time you saw him so long ago, and now -

When you manage to get a better grip on yourself, you ask him if you can still see him off at the airport. He says, “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

Then you ask if you can kiss him again. He responds by kissing you first. 

And it’s sad, it tastes like salt and sorrow and you feel like the promises you never got the chance to make are broken. It feels like the most beautiful blue you’ve ever seen, and you know it’s only a branch of Minghao’s color.

He leaves soon after that, pulls on his shoes and his coat and turns around at the door to give you a tired smile. After he’s gone, you drag yourself to Chan’s bedroom, and once he sees the state you’re in, he offers up one side of his bed. Neither of you say anything, but the friendly reassurance of his hand in yours says enough.

You don’t fail to notice that everything seems to be washed out, a blandness you’re not used to.

The last time you see him is at the airport.

It’s a cold day, despite being sunny. The airport offers little warmth, but you figure it doesn’t matter. You won’t be here for long. 

It doesn’t take you very long to find Minghao - you still look for him wherever you go, even if you’re not looking for him. Even then, it’s still so easy for you to find him, to pinpoint that vibrancy, that youth. He’s talking to a few others, you think you met them. Soonyoung and Jun.

Minghao meets your eyes and you freeze, but then he waves you over with a gentle smile. You follow like you think you always will. 

You greet Soonyoung and Jun and the four of you talk, albeit a little awkwardly, even when Soonyoung tries his hardest to lighten the mood. Eventually he has to leave, and Jun follows with a shy goodbye. They both hug Minghao before they go.

You’re not sure what to say, but after a minute, you find words. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” you tell him, a little selfishly. 

Minghao says, “you’ll do good. I know you will. I’m not worried about you.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time, and you think he’ll give you a stiff and sad goodbye, but he steps a little closer to you. Looks at you the way he used to.

“Maybe…” he starts, then pauses. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Maybe, you think. Maybe.

“I hope so,” you tell him, then watch as he leaves.

[elfdyke]

wow thanks! that was a really in depth post about it you make good points! when I played I definitely got the sense that monika had encouraged sayori to kill herself and I didn’t get the sense of any remorse when natsuki or yuri died or got fucked up but I guess u do make some good points there about how she was just trying to make them less desirable rather than kill them. I’m new to the game and the fandom so im not super familiar with everything yet but is there anything in the canon or lore that points away from monika having pushed sayori to commit suicide or is it mostly just fan theories and personal readings? either way thank u so much for answering!

yes i can absolutely find you some info on that!

there's quite a bit of information hidden within the games files, so I'm kind of assuming if you're new to the game, that you might not have seen these things? so ill dive into them too!

I'm gona do this under the cut so i can like, dissect things from the game !

(also i found stuff thats specifically pointing away from her meaning actual harm/death for Both yuri and sayori, jsyk)

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.txt (discovered in game files during act 2)

“All I want is for you to hate them. Why is that so hard.”

not, all i want for them is to die. she doesnt want to kill them. she wants to separate us from them so we are with Her, not them. things spiral out of control, but it was never her intention for things to get this bad. ntm its repeated over and over in this game how badly monika wants to die. she's hanging on by a thread, keeping on only because she wants to be with us, to be in contact with reality. this leads to really unfortunate circumstances but i really strongly believe everything in the text alludes to the fact she did Not want things to get this bad

ACT 3 INTRO:

(im copy pasting a transcript of the monologue here, but this is taken from the very beginning of act 3, which you can see in this video starting at 25:56)

imo this is all the proof needed to show that she really had no intention of ‘killing’ sayori and yuri. things spiraled out of control far beyond what she was capable of handling. 

her goals with making sayori more depressed and yuri more obsessive were, in here words “to just try to make them as unlikable as possible”. she didnt want her friends to brutally die!! she loved them q_q i feel like a lot of people really dont look at this specific part of what she says and take it to heart. its very telling for her character and important for understanding what she does and why she does it

ACT 3 MONOLOGUES:

sayori's hanging (cw: graphic descriptions of suicide)

dialogue of importance:

"I was thinking about Sayori earlier... I still wish I could have handled that whole thing a little more tactfully."

+

"Come to think of it, it was probably less 'changing her mind' and more just her survival instincts kicking in." "So you can't really fault her for that." "It's easier to think that she probably wouldn't have changed her mind anyway, right?" "It's not healthy to think about the things you could have done differently." "So just remember that even though you could have saved her, it's technically not your fault she killed herself." "I may have exacerbated it a little bit, but Sayori was already mentally ill." "Still, though..." "I wonder how things would be if you and I just started dating from the get-go?" "I guess we'd all still be in the clubroom, writing poems and having fun together." "But what's the point when none of it is even real?" "I mean, it's the same ending either way, right?"

ok so whats important here, is monika is essentially using us, the player, as a mirror in act 3? the things she says i believe, very strongly show her sense of uncertainty in her actions, and her fears of what if she could have done something else??

"even though you could have saved her, its technically not your fault she killed herself" reads SO much to me like shes trying to comfort herself with this, she doesnt want it to be her fault. nothings real, sayori's a character in a game. but she wishes so badly they could have just been normal girls living together.

happy end poem

OK SO LIKE. this is actual proof of Why she does everything she does. she's scared if she reaches out and tells us she's trapped in a game, we'll stop playing, we'll kill her. she tinkers with the game, trying to make herself look the best, trying to make us choose her, and nothing works. and this leads to her becoming frustrated and scared, and screwing with the game more and more desperately trying to do anything to save herself.

if you recall, in act 2, she gives you a poem which bluescreen the computer. this was actually an attempt she makes to escape the game q_q she never wanted to kill yuri, she never wanted things to escalate like that. she wanted to get out but she had no idea how to program her way out of the game, resulting in everything crumbling around her, and her friends dying.

my own route

hang on this one genuinely makes me so upset.

it very much relates back to how in the conversation about sayori's suicide, she's still clearly thinking about how things could be Different. shes thinking about how they could be normal. "I may not have needed to take such drastic measures to be with you. Maybe the rest of the club would still be around..." , and then immediately trying to convince herself it doesnt matter, and that she doesnt care.

its so so obvious shes hurting and she misses her friends. the additional "i really dont (miss them)" at the end really shows that shes desperately trying to convince herself that it was worth it, that she did everything she should have, and her friends dont matter. but they clearly do matter to her. she loved them (she couldnt even delete them if u recall)

also another important part about this monologue, a lot of people say she killed the other girls out of jealousy, but this shows thats not true??

"I think I would end up forcing you onto my route anyway." "It has less to do with me not having a route, and more to do with me knowing that nothing is real."

this wasnt because shes 'in love' with us. she wanted to be close to something real, something tangible. she's clinging onto us, the player character, like someone lost at sea with a piece of driftwood, doing everything she can to stay afloat

wine

ok this isnt on the surface level as important as the other ones, but literally look at how she talks about this memory.. she misses them so much and talking about this memory she clearly cherishes brings her so much joy. she doesnt belittle any of them, she doesnt talk down on them, she’s just reliving this memory because it makes her happy 

I HOPE THIS HELPS?? im sure theres a few more things im forgetting, but i did my best to scrabble up everything i could to show how monika’s not an evil mastermind, shes a scared girl who didnt realize what she was doing and when things got too bad, she did her best to fix it, only for it to get worse n worse

edit: oh heres the proof that monika always loved the girls and never actually deleted them

:’)

edit 2: haha.. um ouch

“It’s not right for me to miss things that weren’t even real in the first place.” shes forcing herself to try and ignore her feelings for the other girls

[llatimeria]

for all the flack it gets, bdsp is the most fun ive had with a pokemon game in a While? my mom got me the bundle for my birthday and at first I was like 😬 but since they're 1:1 remakes of diamond and pearl theyre still like. pretty dang fun. its def Easier than the original dppt but thats less due to handholdy mechanics and more about quality of life changes, like showing type effectiveness in-battle and always having the exp share on by default.

as much as I wish i was being challenged a teeny bit more I never actually finished any pkmn games when I was a kid (...without cheating) because i'd always get hung at a part where I'd need to lvl grind my whole damn team and it was so slow and tedious and painful that I hated every second and while grinding mechanics aren't inherently bad . it Sucked in the early gen pkmn games and you can't change my mind. removing some of the grinding has made it so I can just... have fun playing the game. still though ilca theres a balance to be struck here with reduced grinding and not ohkoing all the gym leaders . i'd like both please. ilca please . ilca

and wrt handholding . again bcus 1:1 remake it feels like a Return To Form for pokemon to me. When I was a kid like 90% of the appeal to me was not actually doing the gym quest or battling (i avoided trainers on routes like it was a stealth minigame and nearly Always had repels on), it was just. getting to vibe in this really awesome and unique fantasy world and make friends with every animal I saw. i gave very few fucks about the plot. I just wanted to run around and look at all of the places and find all the creatures.

im a stalwart defender of sumo overall and still had plenty of fun with it but god I wish it had more opportunities to just Vibe before the postgame. Time Pressure was always a Thing in sumo, someone was Always waiting for you Somewhere and it was Urgent so you Couldn't Dilly Dally, and then like. when i was released into the postgame I realized I hadn't explored a lot of the places that weren't directly on my path between Plot Locations and then subsequently realized there weren't that many places left to explore.

but in bdsp it's just like. heres a world. you're a kid. you're doing the gym challenge. go on an adventure. and its just.... SO refreshing + nostalgic. instead of "ill be waiting for you in the next town be sure to arrive soon so the world doesn't explode" theres a lot of "hey, you should head towards this place. it could help you on your quest :)" which is Sooooo nice

anyways probably the most Handholdy mechanic they added to bdsp is that on the pause menu they added a little text box that points you towards your next goal - i.e. "defeat the pastoria gym leader" or "head towards lake valor" or whatever. which i think hits the spot Perfectly, at least for me personally, bc I know I just. straight up would forget what I needed to do when I was a kid (less so now. but still a little now) without dragging you from place to place by force yknow

also the chibi art isnt that bad. the game looks... fine. could definitely be better . definitely IS better than that first trailer. definitely still prefer the pixel sprites and definitely still clinging to my pet theory that being forced to switch to a 3d art style instead of continuing to build on the pixel sprite style was a stumbling block for the franchise and they have yet to recover. but it doesnt feel like the chibi style is at fault here

anyways ive been having a good time playing shining pearl and really missed this pokemon playstyle more than i realized and even though i was planning on skipping them im glad they were given to me bc im enjoying it. thank you for coming to my post