#but i wrote it in one go and i am proud of it

[mulderscully]

Momentarily breaking my hiatus to further discuss the issue with the new collector edition of RWRB and why Casey's response (or lack therof) is disappointing.

Here is a link to the post I made detailing what is going on. Please read if if you are unaware.

Now, a direct quote from RWRB,

"And I'm not white like she is, can't even pass for it. People are always gonna come down harder on me."

Casey wrote these lines in the book so if they ever made a film/tv show they did not cast a white passing person to play Alex. This statement is in the annotated version of RWRB that you can look up online.

I want to discuss what being white passing means. I am a white passing latina. I have direct family members who are not white passing. My DNA just worked in a way where you see my Spanish ancestry more than my African or Native, but I have all three. Because of this, I benefit from white privilege.

However, it is important to keep in mind that passing as white now sometimes does not mean what it did historically. White passing means you can pass as white so that racist white people will not deny you certain opportunities based on your ethnicity or race. It was and sometimes still is something POC choose to do. For example, Oscar Isaac uses a passing stage name. Choose to pass. It is a denial of part of who you are to further your endeavors in a world built of oppression. Now it also means someone may look at you simply assume you are white, but that is NOT all that it means.

And even I, with my pale skin, sometimes say "I know I'm white passing." and immediately have (usually white) people say something like "No, you're not. I immediately knew you were latina when I saw you."

Now, I take people recognizing me as latine as a positive. It makes me happy because I am proud of my identity. But there is the other aspect of me not being as passing as I think I am, even though my skin tone is really light. A racist "real" white person would still descrimate against me because my blood is not "pure."

I'm mentioning this because I have seen multiple people say that the art inside this edition is fine, because Taylor Zakhar Perez is white passing.

Taylor is not white passing.

He has talked multiple times his difficultly in getting roles, the moment in the movie where he discusses prejudice against latinos is from personal experience between him and Matthew. I want you to understand that it is not only about Taylor being brown or not brown enough to play Alex, it's about his name, it's about his facial feature — his warm skin tone, but also the shape of his beautiful nose amongst other things — that make it clear that he is a man of color. Looking at Taylor, it is clear that he is a latino man with middle eastern and mediterranean ancestry as well.

But this isn't even about Taylor because we are talking about the book.

In the political world a character like Alex would never ever be mistaken for white. Alex probably never is unaware that he isn't fully white. That is what "can't even pass for it." means. It means since his mother became president, everyone knows her kid is Mexican, is brown, is not what is considered "white." by US American standards.

Remember, latino is not a race. Colorism is rampant. And since Alex is half white he is probably lighter than other latinos, esp afrolatinos, as we see on the original pink cover of RWRB. He's clearly darker than Henry there, though!

In the two arts Casey approved and endorsed not only is his skin tone various shades lighter than TZP's in the one that used his likeness, but he is given european features in the other as well. They chose to sell a book — for $80 — where Alex is drawn as white/white passing when the entire reason they wrote that line was to avoid something like this happening.

For over a week now fans (mainly latinos) have been imploring Casey to say something about this, because it's very unlike them to do this — but they haven't. This is upsetting because Casey is not latine. Not white latine either. Not latine AT ALL. If you are writing a character that is part of a community you are not a part of you have to show up for that community to the best of your ability.

At a time like this, Casey's behavior is really disappointing and the only person to blame is Casey for that. Not Taylor's casting. Casey for approving this edition and promoting it on their Instagram.

I think it was probably a fuck up, and now they're frozen and unsure how to handle it. I like Casey, I LOVE their books and think they seem like a good person. But this has opened some discussions that I think are being mishandled in various ways.

I'm logging off again for a bit, but I wanted to share my feelings on this a week out. Take care everyone 🩷

[faeryseiko]

Ahead of me || Katsuki Bakugo

-----------------

A/N: Hi ! I haven't wrote since 2022 so I'm sorry if this one sucks but please take the time and tell me your thoughts on this one !! It is a song lyrics based fic, I LOVE the quirk I just cooked and might do an AO3 story with it...

WARNINGS : season 7 BIG SPOILERS. death, blood.

----------------------------------

Muffled screams, tears running down soft cheeks.

"If I could, I'd be your little spoon"...

I looked as Shigaraki threw Bakugo's body like an useless doll that he didn't want to play with anymore. My heart was beating strongly fast in my chest. I got up on my feet and ran to his side, sliding on my knees as I did so. I started to scratch my arms, the red powder falling on the hole of his chest.

Quirk name : Philosopher's stone

I kept scratching, normally it wouldn't even take a second before healing. But it didn't this time. I felt my own blood rolling on my arm and saw it going to mix with his on his chest. I heard Best Jeanist next to me as he just saw the student he taught yet learned so much from.

"No. No no nonononono" I started to panic as my eyes watered down. I was shaking a corpse, trying to wake it up. I put my forehead on his and was breathing uncontrollably.

"Y/n-san, with you around, we will not be scared of our injuries anymore. I know we can count on you !"

I remembered Izuku's words, now stabbing me as I felt useless again in my life. My best friend was lifeless before me and I couldn't even bring him back or save him.

My quirk wasn't a flashy one, nor did it help for defense. I had to work harder to prove myself worthy of being a hero. The number of times I felt useless watching my class fight as I could only stand watching on the sidelines. I hate it, I'm thankful for Aizawa that have let me show my worth.

"Your quirk is special, Y/n. Great sacrifices and hard work will have to be done to reach it's full potential."

I was shaking, taking his numb upperbody on my knees as I carressed his cheek with my thumb. His beautiful crimson eyes were now turned a pale pink color and his mouth gaped open to show the last breath he took. I let my forehead fall on his chest.

. . .

"One day, I'll become number one and will beat all bad guys like All Might !"

It was one of these times where Bakugo and I's parents would hang out and we would play in the park together. We were on top of the slides as we practiced our hero poses while laughing.

"I'm excited to see my quirk so I can now start ny hero journey, aren't you Bakugo?" I asked with a smile and to this he nodded with a proud smile.

"I already know mine will be awesome ! You'll just have to wait and see. It'll be so strong that it will surpass even All Might and AH-"

I jolted in surprise and panicked as I saw Bakugo fall from the slide's top. I carefully went down and sat down next to him. He winced in pain as he was holding his arm. After a few seconds, a blue color was appearing and that's when I knew it was broken.

"Bakugo, y-your arm-"

"Shut up I know !"

He tried to not let his tears fall and when I saw this, that's when I suddenly took his arm. I don't know how this happened... Even today, I am not able to reproduce what I did that day, but when I touched his arm, his arm healed itself, but in the process broking mine completely.

Bakugo smiled as he saw his new and healed arm.

"Y/n! Your quirk it finally came-"

His eyes widened, seeing me holding my arm in pain. His smile disappeared and I don't know what he thought at that time. That I had an useless quirk ? That I was pathetic ?

. . .

That day was my quirk's first appearance and I couldn't understand how I did it. I had the properties of a stone made with alchemy. Yet, I couldn't understand them exactly.

"And kiss your fingers forevermore..."

But then, it clicked.

I gently lift up Bakugo and hugged his figure, closing my eyes in the process. I focused on him, I had to.

"but big spoon, you have so much to do..."

Water filled my eyes as I sobbed, hugging him tightly, knowing this was my first and last.

....

I remember when I saw Bakugo and Deku fight against eachother, their first fight when they were teammed up with Uraraka and Iida. I looked in awe at both strenght.

Even though Izuku used to be quirkless, he showed himself worthy for All Might to give his quirk. Bakugo was mad and confused at the time, mad that Izuku had showed up randomly one day with a quirk that was strong. And confused on how it happened.

I was selfish to think that... but with Izuku I felt less alone next to Bakugo with his amazingly strong quirk. I had to work extra harder and might never catch up to them.

I also remember at the festival, against Kirishima I was nothing but an easy target. I have cried that day so hard, I even wondered what I was doing at U.A and why I stayed. Also on why our teacher kept me.

Aizawa taught Shinsou and I to still be strong even with a quirk that didn't give us boosted strenght, rapidity or stamina.

I have made so many good friends at U.A, but I knew that if for whatever reason someone had to leave, they had too much potential, too many hopes and dreams for it to be them.

"And I have nothing ahead of me..."

I have made so many great memories, so many. I felt my chest getting lighter and breathing turned so easy to do. Weights on my shoulder turned into empty ones, you know that feeling before falling asleep ?

And as my chest softly stopped to move, I felt against my ear a heartbeat. By now, I was too weak to great him happily like I usually do.

I wish we had more time, more time for me ask for his help for math homework, more time for him to look behind him to look at me, as if having me helped feeling more confident.

Or more time for me to go shopping one last time with Mina, one more time for Shinsou and I to proudly look at our better fighting forms, one more time to play video games with the squad.

More time so I can admire the developpment Bakugo has made on himself.

Maybe, I can finally be useful to you, Katsuki ?

....

Bakugo's eyes opened softly as he heard Best Jeanist yelling out someone's name. Surprisingly, it wasn't his.

The pain he had felt on his chest left and the blood disappeared, he still felt some weight on his chest. He had a hard time moving, but when he looked down, he saw your h/c hair, your normally e/c vibrant eyes that were now closed forever.

He would call you a dumbass, but he knew you wouldn't hear him this time. He would call you a selfless idiot, because since the day you had your quirk, the coolest quirk he've seen in terms of healing, that's just who you've become.

His eyes watered down. He focused so much onto catching up with Deku that he hasn't looked behind him at the person who destroyed themselves just to catch up to him.

And now, it was too late for him to simply catch your hand to help you run with him.

---------------

song : Your Best American Girl - Mitski.

[slum-eater03]

DESTIEL FANFIC RECS NOBODY ASKED FOR BECAUSE WHY NOT😍😝

let’s just right into this, for number one, with zero regrets, is Exodus 3:2 by Stayawake (i’m placing links at the bottom of this post dw😘)

this is a very well written fanfic, like beautifully done. i love Deans relationship between Cas and i love how the author wrote his and John’s dynamic, same as Deans and Sam’s and plenty of other characters mentioned.

Cas is written pretty close to canon, i enjoy him in this fic just as much as i do in the show.

it’s pretty much abt Cas moving into a small town and being a pastor there (Dean’s POV of written in third POV) Dean is a hardworking 23 year old who’s trying to keep food on his and his schizophrenic dad’s plates.

the two hang out together and generally, i love every interaction i’ve gotten from the two.

there’s smut but it’s not shown all the way through the whole process, but build up is written very well. over all score, 10/10 i wasn’t able to look away until i finished it.

number two on my list is taken by a 8 chapter fanfic, whom i am proud to present on my list, Damn good times (all the people applaud).

this one, out of all my recs, has the best and most realistic writing. the author put much time into this eight chapter series, and i’m feeling a little guilty this master piece only places second. (again, the link is at the bottom of this post😔).

this beautifully written fanfic is abt just graduated Castiel and Dean (whom are best friends) decide to go on a trip before heading to college. this, just like the other, is only in Dean point of view but also 3rd POV.

Dean is shown in a more realistic way, him being homophobic but also growing. this fanfic shows character growth, and this almost pains me to say, but, “i wish you were a girl”.

the ending is happy and i almost sobbed with joy at the very end scene. this fic is also a 10/10 and the only reason it’s placed second is because i like ranking systems😔 (don’t blame a girl for autism) also there is heavy smut, only in the last chapter tho, i love the build up tho😝 i lied, there’s a joinking scene in like chapter 7?? still peak tho.

and for third and with the same author as seconds place, i proudly present, Roshambo.

i love this fic, it’s, again, realistically written and is written so very well. this one is a one shot, unlike the other two, but this one also has almost 20k words. i enjoy this one a lot because, unlike the other two, this one is based in the OG universe.

i like this one sm, it gets me giddy just thinking of it now.

this one is multi-POV, the POV still in 3rd but this time being of Sam, Dean, and Cas. i especially love Sam’s POV, it’s written amazingly for him (i’m just a angst addict and they added angst into his even tho the main focus of the fic is Destiel).

this one is pretty much one bed trope as a whole ass fanfic. still amazing. i love it.

it’s showing different POV’s, Cas’ being how he likes sleeping next to Dean, Dean being frustrated with his feelings, and Sam being happy for Dean for finally getting a lover.

this one is honestly my favorite Destiel one shot, and, just like the other two, a straight (more like gay🤭) 10/10 fanfic. def recommend.

FANFICTION LINKS😍😍

exodus 3:2

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62725417

damn good times (all of the people applaud)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38426173

rashambo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41591274

don’t be shy, comment yours😍 (pls i’m desperate😀)

[endy-the-anxious]

Last of their kind

Summary: what it's like to be the last of your kind

Word count: 799

Characters: naga!Janus

Trigger warnings: dead, implied death, and a corpse (not described in detail)

Notes: this is inspired by a rp i have with @lost-in-thought-20

----------

It wasn’t easy being the last of your kind. A few stages were involved, each more miserable than the next, and each making you feel more isolated.

The first stage started with hope. The hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t alone. That there were others who knew what it was like to be just like you. Who shared some of the same struggles, and whose existence would bring comfort, if only you could find them. That hope was supposed to keep you from falling into the pit of despair. It would give you the drive to go on a journey in search of people like you.

Unfortunately, this hope was also the road right to that same pit, where one would balance on the ridge until they would inevitably fall in. Because nothing was more gut-wrenching than going on a journey with hope, only to have it crushed when you realize that you truly were the only one.

You could find traces of your kind, from ruins to books to skeletal structures, but none of them helped alleviate the pain. In fact, they made it worse. Knowing they had been right there, right where you were right now, and yet, they were gone. And you were still here.

Janus had long given up on having hope of finding others like him. He’d fallen into the pit and wasn’t planning on getting out. After all, what was the point anyways? This would be a fitting end. The last naga would die alone, surrounded by the memories of his ancestors before him.

The ruins that had once been a village were the last place he’d visited. Surrounded by trees, close to the mountain range, they would have been safe there. There should have been at least some nagas there, but there weren’t. The place was empty and covered in dust. Clearly it had been abandoned for many years. Still, Janus had searched around, looked in every nook and cranny. If he could find something, find anything that could just tell him where they went, it would be alright. But there wasn’t.

He found an egg, though. A naga egg. And maybe it had been foolish to think that anything could still hatch from it after all this time, but Janus had been desperate. This was the last thing he had. So he clung to it, and tried to nurture it. He’d picked a random house in the village, and every night, he would lay in bed, tail curled around the egg. Whispering to it that it would be okay. That it could come out because he was right there to take care of them. That it was safe now.

It stayed like that for weeks, but there was no sign of life from it. Thinking that maybe it struggled to get through the outer shell of the egg, Janus decided to help it. He carefully peeled it open, piece by piece. Still, no movement. He wasn’t ready to accept the truth yet. He couldn’t. So, he would carry the fetus to his bed at night, hoping that if he warmed it up with his body temperature, it might come back to life.

When he finally realized it didn’t, and never would, the devastation set in. He buried the fetus in the backyard, to put them to rest, before starting the mourning stage.

The grief alone had nearly killed him. It had grabbed him by his throat and yanked his heart out of his chest before tearing it to shreds in front of him. His people, gone. Wiped away like they had never been there in the first place, ready to be forgotten. His screams of anguish continuously traveled throughout the forest until his voice was too hoarse to go on.

And that was where he ended up now. Leaning against the bed in his room, unable to move, unable to continue. It was strange to think that the catalyst that led him down this path was one singular book. Had he not been curious, and read about his people, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. He wouldn’t have known about his people, but he could’ve been happy anyways. He could’ve lived among humans, ones who cared about him, at least. But instead, he’d let this quest of finding other nagas take over his life, and he’d left everyone behind. Perhaps that was for the better, too. Soft skin and serrated scales didn’t mesh well. His torso being that of a human wouldn’t make them accept him more. It would only make him stand out.

He should count himself lucky, for being allowed to die here. After all this time, after all this suffering and sorrow, he would finally find his people.

And he knew they would welcome him with open arms.

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: sex workers reader and toji, wrestling, he puts you in a headlock, ass slapping

as a sex worker under an agency, you sometimes get the opportunity to perform certain tropes that you wouldn't think too much about doing on your own. there have been quite a few that your manager has thrown your way; medical play, light BDSM scenes, and now, mixed wrestling. you've done your fair share of oiled up fighting with other women in your career, but you've never wrestled a man before.

its all staged, much like real wrestling except—except you're not too sure why or how you were paired up with infamous actor Toji Fushigurou. technically speaking, you two aren't anywhere near the same weight class, but you're not sure if technicalities even count for a job like this.

there are a few rules: no actual striking of each other, take the others underwear off during the fight, no biting. as the ref lists off all the other little things you two need to remember, you both take each other in. Toji is, for lack of better words, fucking huge. he's got at least six inches on you, packed with muscle and a nonchalant kind of finesse that makes you just the slightest bit nervous under his stare. he stands only in a tight pair of black boxer briefs, and you can make out the outline of his soft cock, despite the fact that it still rests low on his thigh.

he grins at you when he notices your ogling, winking once when you frown at him. he's been in the industry for so long, he's more than used to being objectified, but something about your little defiance that shines in your eyes makes him want to tear into you, piece by piece.

"Go!" the ref announces once she's finished listing her instructions. Toji doesn't immediately attack you, instead grins at you, hands on his waist as he cocks an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction. with a, albeit weak, battle cry, do you lunge at him—

and quickly find yourself pinned. you don't know how he does it so quickly, maneuver you as if you only weighed a pound, but he does it. catches you in his arms and swings you around until your back meets the floor with a grunt, the wind suddenly knocked out of you. he's gentle though, where he pins you with his knees on either side of you.

"At least try to put up a fight," he teases you, pulling at the straps of your bikini. but you fight him off as much as you can, grunting and cursing at him, taking this entirely too seriously for what will ultimately end with you being fucked into oblivion by the man. doesn't mean you have to go out without a fight, though.

although, your fight doesn't mean much to Toji. by the third and final round, you're fully naked and he's still got his underwear on. your ass is slapped raw by how many times his too big hands have groped you, nipples pinched to sensitivity. you're not surprised when the ref announces your lost, tells Toji to claim his prize.

and he does just that. pins you on the floor, finally releasing the thickness of his cock. he's cocky the entire time, teasing, with how he pins you on your stomach, holding you in a headlock as he fucks his cock too deep inside of you to put up much of a fight anymore.

"Did you even try?" he asks, breathy, a smirk plastered on his face as he looms over your shoulder. "Or did you want to end up like this? With my dick in your stomach? The fight worked you up that much, huh?"

he taps your clit with too thick, mean fingers with his other hand, tightening his bicep around your throat when you try to get smart with him. he knows its all bark and no bite, if judging by the way your cunt sucks him in is anything to go by. you can only gurgle out a curse to him, eyes rolling back in your head when his wicked laugh only pushes you over the edge to climax.

(after the scene ends, he kisses your temples and squeezes your waist, telling you that you guys should do more scenes together. you only stick out your tongue at him, promising to get stronger so you can take him down next time. he laughs at you, more than happy to entertain your thoughts that will, truthfully, never come true.)

[blackjackkent]

OK, need to run GW2 events tonight so leaving it there for the time being, but whew what a day for Rakha. XD And I'm getting the distinct impression it's only going to get worse from here.

Last time when I went through Act 2's finale with Hector, I had like two weeks off of work to focus on it; tragically that is not the case for Rakha and in fact this coming week is likely to be another very stressful one, but I *do* have Thursday off for Independence Day, woohoo. So even slightly more Rakha adventures than usual to come in the near future. XD

[unriding]

Me sneaking into your asks with this drabble:

Disclaimer: I have yet to get a good grasp of Moze's character so this might be a bit OOC and on your side as well (sorry). I did my best. Also, this was inspired by the post you made abt telling Moze your tasks for the day | 600+ words (not proofread)

.

.

.

In Moze's eyes, you reminded him of a dog catching a case of the zoomies.

You were quite literally everywhere. He'd find you talking to someone one moment before you're rushing off to do something else entirely the next. It seemed like you had quite a lot on your plate as of recently. Tasks, things you wanted to do, and so much more spinning around that mind of yours. You've told him a bit of your plans so he has a general idea. But seeing you juggling all of those tasks at once makes both admiration and concern bloom in his chest.

One time, Moze found you carrying a box filled with items. It would've been amusing to him how comical it was that the items piled so high— he could barely see you behind it. However, he did worry right after given how you almost tripped over something. He managed to catch you and the items before both came crashing all over the floor.

He insisted on helping you carry the items to wherever its destination was. It took a bit of pursuasion on his side. Convincing you that it truly wasn't a bother to him at all, and that he'd be very much glad to be of assistance to you.

"I need to get these delivered first. Then go stop by the shop to buy some things. After that…" You go on to ramble about the things you had to do to help get a better vision on what else you had to do. "Oh, no… I messed up." The smile on your face dropping at the thought that had slipped your mind until that moment. "I forgot to invite Jiaoqiu to dinner with the others—"

"It's tomorrow evening, right? He knows. I mentioned it last time when I spoke to him." Moze says with a calm tone.

You blink at him, slightly caught off-guard by the man beside you. Though it's immediately replaced with relief and gratitude. The smile on your face already back, lighting up your features once more. Infectious as always, it makes the corners of his lips tug upwards as well. A small part of him feels quite proud to have been able to help you ease your worries even by a bit.

And this is when you start noticing it.

Did you mention that you're running out of a certain skincare product, but you can't find the time to stop by the store to buy it? Moze conveniently has to stop by near the store and buys it for you. Did you also mention that you wanted to do a certain task but keep forgetting about it? He gently reminds you about it via message or verbal if he's nearby. Did you also happen to mention that you've been meaning to try out a certain desert from a cafe, but the schedule simply doesn't seem to allow you? No fear, he passes by the store to buy you the treat.

Moze doesn't see you as someone incapable of handling things by yourself. To him, he simply sees it as a way to show his care. If making a quick stop somewhere, sending you a small reminder of something you had to do that day, or even helping you out with the tasks you need to accomplish, makes you smile? Gives you a chance to take a break? Let you worry less about the things you need to do? It's worth it in his eyes.

He does his best to avoid making you feel like you're bothering or troubling him (you really aren't). Most of the time, he does them discrcetly and casually. Partially, since he's also scared that you'll think he's weird or a creep for acting like that.

Please don't think of him badly.

Moze truly means well.

[naffeclipse]

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

for the most part I actually don’t see Harry and Draco as being the get married types or at least not the have a wedding types but it’s also fun to just. Have them do it anyway. Weddings are fun and fun to write and read about!

[finalgirlgretchen]

[malachitezmeyka]

Ever since I first read Eugene Onegin two years ago, and even more now that I had to reread it for school recently, I've been saying that I've never related to a fictional character more than I relate to Tatyana Larina (not counting my own characters, that is, as they are intentional projections). Particularly the verses about Tatyana's childhood hit very close to home. I've been wanting to talk about it for a while but couldn't find a translation of the book that I liked. So, instead of sleeping, I spent 2 hours absolutely torturing my own brain by coming up with my own translation and I'm way too proud not to share.

Eugene Onegin, chapter 2, verses 25, 26 and 27, translated with the original temp and rhyming scheme intact, by yours truly <3

—

XXV

And so, her sister's named Tatyana.

She seldom catches someone's gaze,

Lacks Olga's beauty, lacks her glamour,

The pink-cheeked freshness of her face.

She's almost feral, quiet with woe,

So quick to startle, like a doe.

And even in her family home

She seemed a child not quite their own.

She hardly ever showed affection,

Both mom and dad would often say.

By window she would spend her day

Alone but for her own reflection,

She judged the children running wild,

Though she herself was still a child.

XXVI

Imagination was her friend

From infancy. As village days

Kept dragging on without an end,

She'd get lost in her fantasies.

Needle and thread she too avoided,

Fabric was never once embroidered

By her unblemished fingers, for

She found needlework a bore.

An average girl would take her doll,

Sit down with it and start to talk,

Prepare it for the time to walk

Into an upper class grand ball –

To silent dolls during these sessions

Young girls repeat their mothers' lessons.

XXVII

Tatyana never had discussions

With dolls, nor did she play with them;

She never told them of the fashions,

Of city news, and even then

Of toys and games she was quite wary,

She'd rather read of something scary.

In winters, in the dead of night,

Her heart learned how to take a fright.

When for young Olga their old nanny

Would gather up the neighbours' kids

To run and play out in the fields,

Tatyana would act most uncanny:

She never played or ran around,

And found their laughter far too loud.

—

[nikialexx]

(slightly long and personal post, which was initially meant to be me explaining/apologizing for the delay in responding to my comments on ao3, but turned into... this... instead. It's under the cut for anyone who wants to read :)

recently (and by 'recently' i mean it's been over a year) it's been very very hard for me to summon the motivation to do... anything. Even the things I used to love, such as reading, writing, engaging in fandom, baking, playing the sims, occasionally watching a show or a movie... it's all been so unbearably hard. There were some real-life situations that contributed to this, most of which are thankfully in the past now, but the state of nothingness that I've found myself in has yet to fully fade away. I'm doing better (i read a book! an entire book! i can't remember the last time i did that!!) but there are still days where it just feels hard.

And It's like... I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but the process of getting through the tunnel is so dark and painful and lonely.

This entire post was inspired by me feeling guilty about not responding to my ao3 comments. i used to love responding to my ao3 comments. but now, whenever i even think about opening the website for any reason, i just feel... anxious. I can't even open the website to read the comments on there- I read them in my email instead because that feels less daunting.

I'm still writing, although some days (most days) it's harder than it used to be, a constant uphill battle where it used to be the easiest thing in the world for me to do. But I'm not writing nearly as much as I used to, which means I'm not posting as much as I used to or would like to. And it feels awful. For me, writing was always my *thing*. it was coming home. it was my favorite thing about myself. and not having that (or atleast, not having it in the way that I used to) has been really hard, and it's felt like a piece of me is literally gone. Like I'm missing some fundamental aspect of who I am as a person. Some days (most days) i feel like a shell of who I used to be.

And, to reiterate, I am getting better. It's just happening very slowly. And while I can look at the overall picture and say 'yeah... things are good', there are still the in-between moments of silence and darkness where I just don't know what to do with myself.

This is all very dramatic, but really, I just wanted to get my thoughts down (and also apologize, in the most melodramatic way possible, for not responding to my comments).

I spent a good chunk of the past year pretending I was okay, and refusing to even acknowledge that I was depressed because that felt like such a big, self-important word. But admitting it and accepting it is what led to me being able to work on getting through it. And now I'm doing better. So. Just wanted to share. If you happen to be feeling the same way, you're not alone :)

(also i will respond to my ao3 comments eventually. i promise i will. and thank you for leaving them. I read them all and I love them <3)

[allylikethecat]

Get excited! I actually finished another oneshot for tomorrow...

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Hi Rachel,

In some of my writing I’m beginning to notice more and more that certain characters (not all) remind me of myself lol. And I hate it, I go back and rewrite them. But I’m interested if you relate to any of your characters as well so—Out of the characters you’ve written (Lonan, Reeve, Harrison, etc..) who do you think is the most like you? And what’s your take on writers seeing themselves in some of their characters?

feel about seeing reflections

Hahaha I used to HATE writing characters that were like me, and it took a while to realize that actually, they ALL are me in some iteration. To answer your question about writers seeing themselves in their characters—if writing characters that are “self-inserts” makes you joyful, DO IT!!! If writing characters who aren’t self-inserts but have attributes to you makes you joyful, DO IT! Or if you’re not into it—that’s fine too! Life is too short! Have fun with what works for you!

My experience below, this gets kind of intense as a warning! CW: suicidal ideation, disocciation

Aligning myself with my characters has been an intensely life-saving experience. I’m not sure I’d be here if it were not for Lonan… 16-year-old Rachel WAS him, and also needed him because literally nobody else “understood” where I was at except for him (undiagnosed autism for BOTH OF US??).

There was a time of my life where I couldn’t emotionally regulate at all, and in moments of stress, would often dissociate and quite literally converse with this man (looking back now, this was just a coping mechanism—confirmed by my doctor btw!—but for a couple years he was a genuine part of my psyche, like moved out of just character territory). I think I talked about this years ago, but I have a really distinct memory of disconnecting so much I quite literally thought he was THERE next to me, which I needed—he really became an externalization of the things I couldn’t deal with (or didn’t understand how to deal with). I needed to see myself reflected in the eye of someone else and for a really long time that was Lonan for me. Actually screaming crying that’s so cute.

And Lonan is similar to me in a lot of ways! This is a side tangent but when I was first diagnosed as autistic it made me wonder if I’d inadvertently written any autistic characters & it struck me way back then that the person most similar to me (Lonan lol) is probably also autistic. I was like—sensory issues?? No emotional regulation?? Speaks a bit oddly?? We are THE SAME. Haven’t really confirmed this in canon lol but I’ve been thinking about it since 2021.

Funnily, now that I have that diagnosis, my life is a lot more stable so like… I’m not currently the most like Lonan lol. But me at 16-19??? Absolutely him.

Unfortunately, I am currently HARRISON, which isn’t ideal but just like he’s a 21-year-old experiencing horrors I’m a 21-year-old experiencing horrors (which is why BB is sometimes painful to write cuz I’m like oooooh I’m feeling this… too much). To be fair, I’ve always said I’m the introverted version of Harrison (because I am lol our personality types are the same, not that I believe in those but since I was like 13 I’ve said this). But just like Lonan, Harrison has helped me now process some tough things this year that I’m not sure how else I would’ve survived. It’s important to me that I have fictional vessels to explore my own life with because it can help me identify problems & then learn to empathize with myself by empathizing with a character first.

Of course they’re also separate from me—they absolutely didn’t start as ME but as time goes on I start seeing myself in them particularly (Reeve sometimes too—our kindred spirits with processing toxic relationships <3). Maybe it’s because I am autistic, but I find it useful to understand my experiences via someone else. I love seeing the ways we can inform each other.

My TL;DR is I’m Harrison if he was Lonan so I guess I’m BB Harrison. Love this for me so much. But also add autism. Which is probably already there because: Lonan. LMAO and a dash of Reeve’s compartmentalization skills. And we have me!

[pevko]

slides in here.... i saw you rb that "dissolution of social media" post and i was like AGH mit pevko..... longtime*??????) mutual i am fond of but now confined to the dash 😔 sometimes i still hear ur voice......... (weirdly enough, mitya-pevko comes up just fine so i guess they fixed it??)

(*question mark bc my sense of time is bad but im like 90% sure it's been ages)

ANYWAY sorry this is just a silly thing to say i appreciate u and miss seeing the black cat in my notifs! i hope you're well 🙏 also would love to see more àrt if u have any to share........ love art forevar

almost sure that we have been mutuals since 2018 or a little earlier !! i think ... or 2017? i recently went thru some old photos from then and i think i have your art saved from back then even 😭 i love seeing you in my notifications a lot too also !!! i hope youre well too!

[m-a-d-e-l-e-i-n-e]

Is it normal to be so obsessed with the idea of being a good or I guess even unproblematic person, to the point where you’re nit-picking every single little thing you say or do and feel like shit about yourself for not always fitting your own idea of being a “perfect” person? …what do you mean “no”?