#i think it's good i escape in any form of fiction if it helps me digest my situation better

[mcsiggy]

Do yall like, know how to enjoy something w/o constantly criticizing it? don't you want to enjoy something-- anything for what it is? if it gives you joy and makes you happy, you dont have to be critical and pick a part about it to be a 'real' fan of the thing, or to show you're aware of the whatever problems it has.

just liking and enjoying it is enough.

[emstargazer]

Poked around another recent mutual's blog since they seem like an oasis of good stuff, just to get shocked by #@!&!, again.

Twice. It happened. Twice.

Visibly trembling right now. I'm not joking.

Oh fuck me... I think I'll need to unfollow a mutual even though I really don't want to, because I just saw a name I was NEVER expecting to see on my dash.

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝙲𝙸𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙻𝙴𝙽 𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷𝚂

description: in which Leah and Lessi take the Arsenal lot out to their favourite bar, and katie's crush suddenly becomes not so secret

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katie mccabe x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction do not take any of this seriously !

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive and sexual, a few make-outs

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Katie had always liked to go out on a morning walk. Ever since she broke up with her girlfriend of seven years just over a year ago, Katie had made a good habit of getting up before 8am to go for a walk.

It used to help her think things through and try and get herself together before training. Now it just relaxes her, and let her see her.

The girl in question was someone who Katie had been watching for nearly four months now. Every weekday. Creepy, she was aware. But the gorgeous girl was just so intimidating.

She walked through London Colney with a coffee in one hand, a cigarette in the other and constantly listening to music on her rose gold beats.

Her outfits were fantastic and every time Katie watched her pass by, she would always send a kind smile from her perfectly painted lips.

Her skin was flawless, her hair like something form a L'Oreal commercial and her eyes were the most invasive and hauntingly beautiful things Katie had ever seen.

In conclusion, Katie was down bad. She loved the way her head bobbed to her music or the way the stranger would move her cigarette away from Katie, so she couldn't smell it as much.

And as Katie woke up today, Thursday, tomorrow would be the day before the Chelsea vs Arsenal match, she made herself a promise that she was going to speak to this girl today.

Katie made her way out of her apartment, happily humming along to the music as she walked her head down as she tried to think about where she could speak to the girl.

Just as Katie looked up there was a force into her chest and a squeak. There is a crash on the floor as iced coffee splashes onto the pavement.

Katie looks down and gulps as she realises the girl who has been occupying her thoughts all morning stood pressed against her chest, her coffee now scattered over the street.

"I'm so sorry lass, I wasn't lookin'." Katie apologises. The girl sends her a bright smile, shaking her head as she bends down and picks up the coffee cup and bins it.

"Please, it was my fault, in my own head this morning it seems." The girl denies, pulling her beats down to rest around her head, the faint sound of Hozier coming from them.

"What'cha in your own head about?" Katie questions kindly, the girl smiles.

"How to get you to come and speak to me." She giggles, her London accent pushing through her words.

Katie can't help the chuckle which escapes her lips, her secret admiring from afar clearly having been noticed by the beauty stood in front of her.

"Ahh, ya got me." Katie smiles. "Katie." She introduces, holding her hand out.

"I'm aware." The girl smiles, but shakes her hand anyway. "y/n." She adds.

"Beautiful name for a stunnin' girl." Katie beams and y/n smiles again, laughing lightly. She leans over and stubs out the cigarette, smiling softly.

"Apologies for the smoke, I'm sure you footballers try and steer clear." y/n hums.

"They kill ya, y'know?" Katie asks and y/n raises a brow.

"Really?" She gasps mockingly. "Thanks for the warning, I'll stop right away." She nods and Katie chuckles at the sarcasm.

"Ok ok, I was just sayin'." Katie surrenders and y/n laughs again, suddenly her phone vibrates, the Harry Potter theme tune echoing as she smiles apologetically at Katie and answers it.

"Alrigh' alrigh', I'm coming you prick!" She says lightly into the phone. She laughs at whatever is said. "I'll see you in a second babe." She hums.

Katie's heart sinks at the use of the pet-name, her once racing heart now slowing as the beautiful girl laughs again and hangs up the phone, Katie clear her throat.

"Boyfriend?" She asks, trying to not so subtly see if the girl was taken.

"Best friend." y/n hums at her and Katie's heart lifts slightly. "There's no one if that is what you're trying to figure out." y/n adds. "Besides, it wouldn't be a boyfriend." She adds.

At that confirmation Katie's heart leaps, she felt as if she had just scored against Chelsea already and it took everything in her not to whisper a small 'yes'.

"I have to go Katie love." y/n hums, the nickname making Katie almost shiver.

"Can I get your number?" Katie asks.

"Meet me here tomorrow, 8:15, iced caramel latte." y/n winks, before she sidesteps the woman and walks off, Katie turns but y/n just looks back and sends a wink before disappearing into a crowd of people.

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The next morning, Katie was stood at 8:10 with an iced caramel latte which she thought was far too cold for the already crisp morning, her head was up and waiting for the shorter girl who had occupied her thoughts for months.

"I'm impressed." y/n hummed, as she slid next to Katie, the woman's head snapping to her and a smile over-taking her features.

"M'lady." Katie grinned, handing her the drink.

y/n laughed, the sound as sweet as angels singing to Katie and the Irishwoman made a promise to herself to keep y/n laughing as long as she could, because the sound warmed her blood.

"Thank you." y/n smiled, her beats were resting around her neck once more and she began to walk and Katie followed quickly after, almost jolting into action.

"So, where are we going?" Katie asks.

"You are walking me to work, then I am assuming you have training before the big game tomorrow." y/n hums and Katie looks down at her.

"Okay." Katie nods. "You clearly know football." Katie adds and y/n chuckles as she moves through the crowd of people who were leaving from a tube station.

"You could say that, yeah." y/n nods as she checks the road, her spare hand, free of a cigarette today Katie noted, reaching down for Katie's.

y/n gripped it lightly and pulled her across the quiet road before dropping her hand once they got back onto the pavement. Katie found herself clenching and unclenching a fist to try and rid herself of the sparks which were left in y/n's wake.

The two made small talk for the next ten minutes, learning about each other's favourite colours and music tastes, laughs were shared more often that not.

However, the laughs shared were only due to the fact Katie was trying her best to be as funny as possible, desperate to hear the laugh from the stunning girl stood beside her.

"So, what do you do?" Katie asks, looking down at the girl sipping her coffee.

"I'm a barista and bartender." y/n explains as they near a coffee shop which Katie walked past everyday.

It was on the corner of her street, a relatively big venue which she remembered turned into a bar once evening settled over London. She'd never been in, having liked to stick to her favourite places.

If y/n worked here, she was kicking herself for being so bad at trying something new.

There were cute pastel wooden tables and chairs out the front, only a few since not many people sat outside during the winter. Inside were booths and comfy chairs.

Cushions, blankets and a long bar decorated the coffee shop, a window of pastries and cakes sat out as well. A girl was bustling around, mouthing along to the music as she waved at y/n through the window.

y/n waved back and turned to Katie, who she noticed was looking at the six cats lying lazily inside the coffee shop and she chuckled as Katie then looked at her.

"We are not supposed to be a cat cafe, but they were all rescues and people love them so they stay." y/n explains.

She then smiles as Katie looks at her watch, sighing at the fact that she would have to get back to her place, which luckily wasn't far and head over for their long day of training.

"Thanks for walking me." y/n adds, she leans up and pecks Katie's cheek, leaving the woman slightly stunned for a moment. "See you soon!" y/n calls.

"Wait, what does that mean?" Katie asks, but y/n just ignores her as her friend lets her in and they begin to set up the open for nine am. Katie sighs, but know she is going to be late if she doesn't go.

So, with one last fleeting look at the gorgeous girl who was laughing at something, Katie touched her cheek and set off home.

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The next day, Katie's head was far to focused to let many thoughts of y/n slip through, a few had, she wasn't afraid to admit, in fact the idea of the smiling girl was keeping her rather calm.

As they stepped out onto the pitch, Katie could hardly hear her heartbeat over the screams of the Arsenal fans, but she rolled her shoulders back and waited.

As soon as the whistle went for kick off Katie's blood pumped and the fire in her heart roared as she ran, she hardly payed attention to the people shouting her name.

The clock ban to tick, minutes running from them as Katie crossed the ball into the box, Beth Mead finding it and burying it in the back of the net.

Shouts of excitement echoed, Katie launching at Beth and shouting in happiness as they were surrounded. The group runs back to reset and Katie looks over to the crowd.

People jumped and cheered for her, for Beth, for them, a suddenly determination pushed through her to play the game at the same level or better.

As the half time whistle blew, the group couldn't believe they were three - one up against Chelsea. Katie was walking toward the tunnel when she saw her.

Leah was next to her the two talking animatedly about something, she was in a black puffer coat zipped and had an Arsenal beanie on her head.

Leah saw Katie watching and waved at her sending her a proud nod, then y/n turned, a wink sent Katie's way before she turned back to Leah and the continued talking.

As Katie got into the changing room, her heart continued to race, the cheeky eyes of y/n pushing through her body, the name ringing in her head.

Of course. Leah and Alessia often talked about their joint friend, the one who Leah had said she owed her happiness too, the girl having met her when Leah was crying drunk in the bar about her ACL.

Leah who was alone, was helped by y/n who let the blonde stay the night, cooked her breakfast in the morning and then answered Alessia's worried phone call.

Once Alessia finally came to Arsenal Leah had happily introduced to the girl she had described her angel, and while the team had never met her, she was often talked about.

Of course the girl Katie was crushing on was her, of course it bloody was. And as Katie stepped outside for the second half, suddenly her determination grew.

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y/n felt awful, she truly did, but just after Alessia had scored her penalty her best friend had called and asked her into work explaining they had a newbie call in sick.

Leah promised her it was okay and that she would see the golden retriever of a human later. y/n had left Leah with a kind hug and ran off, and as she left the stands, she saw Katie's shoulders deflate.

However, y/n couldn't think about that, she changed into a red jumpsuit and quickly switched into work mode, her make-up done in twenty minutes and her hair scraped back into a long ponytail.

Several hours passed, y/n doing her job when her best friend and boss, Jamie came over, the woman placing her hand on y/n's shoulders.

"Haley's here now y/n/n, you can go and get ready for your fist set of the night." Jamie said as y/n served another drink, Haley nodding at y/n kindly as she slid onto the bar.

"Sure Mimi, Leah here yet?" y/n asked and Jamie nodded, pointing over to the VIP section where the group stood.

"You okay with serving them when you're not playing?" Jamie asked and y/n nodded as she moved around Adam, another server of the night.

"Yeah course." y/n grinned, the VIP section had it's own bar so the VIP's didn't need to wait in line.

y/n checked her face in the mirror, noticing Katie stood slightly out of eyeline in her jeans and tight black tank top, her arms almost making y/n choke.

y/n then slid over to the section, her arms wrapping around the familiar blonde who had played so well in the match. Recognising the feeling Alessia beamed.

"Angel!" Leah cheered noticing her as Alessia turned and bear-hugged the girl.

"Hi my loves." y/n hummed. "You were so good today, I am so sorry I had to leave early." y/n praised to Alessia who smiled brightly.

"It's okay, Lee explained." She promised her friend who smiled before sliding under the bar.

"Right ladies, this is the angel y/n we go on about." Leah said, as she quickly went around the group that had come out.

"Kim, Kyra, Cloe, Caitlin, Katie." Alessia began.

"Lotta hard k's." y/n joked and Leah chuckled.

"Lotte, Manu, Jen, Steph, Laura, Laia, Amanda, Frida, Lia, Victoria, Lina, Stina." Leah continued.

"And you obviously know Beth and Viv." Alessia finished, the couple the only two to have met y/n in the recent months.

"Yes, hi all, I'm y/n, I am your bartender tonight so yay me, and I know all of your names anyway." y/n added. "Also, great game today." She adds.

A chorus of thank yous echo before y/n sighs and looks out at the sea of 21 players and rubbed her hands together before opening the till and getting ready to start the tab.

"What we drinking?" She asks. After about twenty minutes, each player had a drink, other than Katie who waited patiently.

Leah had noticed the way Katie had lingered around the bar, the way her eyes followed y/n's every move as she made the drinks, somewhere in the back of her mind she realised what a good couple the two could make.

"Let me guess? A Guinness?" y/n asked, rolling her eyes as Katie grinned. "Of course you have the longest pouring drink last." She adds.

Usually, if people ordered a Guinness last on their orders y/n would rage, because it meant she would have to wait for it to settle before moving on, but as she looked at Katie, she didn't care.

"Why didn't ya mention you knew Lee and Less, oh and Beth and Viv?" Katie asks and y/n shrugs.

"You never asked." She tells Katie as she stops the Guinness letting the liquor settle.

"Fair enough." Katie chuckled, y/n smiled softly her head turning briefly to check the clock.

"You played well today." y/n said quietly. "I didn't realise you could be so violent." She adds and Katie smirks.

"I'm as scary as they come me." Katie grins and y/n laughs which widens Katie's grin.

"Well, you're alright. I'll give you that." y/n chuckles, Katie leans forward on the bar, her arms tensing.

y/n's gaze moves down to the tanned skin which sat there and she gulped before looking away and finishing the Guinness. Katie notices her gaze and smirks.

"Just alrigh'?" She asks teasingly but y/n just places the Guinness on the bar.

"Order up." She smiles before moving to where Jamie stood, Katie smirked at the girl's flustered cheeks and turned to lean on the bar, her eyes catching Leah's who sent her a knowing wink and a smile.

She'd been given permission, that was what Leah had given her there, she had said with her eyes 'I see it, I'm okay with it.' and Katie relaxed with that.

"Yes!" Alessia suddenly said, and the group turned to see y/n suddenly on the stage with the DJ and a live band.

"Right, yes yes, hello." y/n said into the mic, the crowd suddenly screaming and Katie furrowed her brows. "Okay, it's a Saturday night, most here are gooners, I know." y/n continued.

The crowd got louder at that and y/n laughed, the cheers were directed toward the VIP section, but Katie was impressed at the way no one had tried to sneak to them.

She loved the fans, she did, but they could be crazy, so the fact none of them had tried to approach just showed how good this bar really was she supposed.

"Not all of us." The guitarist suddenly chimed in, his long hair pushing out of his face as he nodded his head at y/n who laughed.

"Come on you irons!" She cheered, several loud cheers ringing out.

"She's a Hammers fan?" Jen asked Leah in shock and Leah laughed, nodding her head.

"Hammer-head yeah." Leah grinned and the Arsenal group shared a laugh.

"Anyway, let's fucking party." y/n said before the song kicked in. Katie almost jumped at the trumpets playing from the recording and as the drum began people danced.

"Well there is something going down! Like the storm in the sky. Oh." y/n sang, her voice powerful.

Katie's eyes widened at her live voice, so good, so powerful, so free and as her teammates began to dance to the song Katie couldn't help but watch y/n as she performed into the chorus.

"Mama knows best when, times get a hard! And papa always has a joke, to make me laugh. See mama knows best when, I feel down, to pick me up and always keep my feet on solid ground." y/n continued.

Katie didn't think she could have fallen any harder, but the second y/n started singing, she realised how wrong she was.

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After an hour of Katie's teammates dancing around her while she stared in shock at y/n who was performing as if she was at Wembley. The singer thanked the crowd and said she would be back in an hour.

She then disappeared into the sea of people and despite trying, Katie could no longer see her. She sighed and shook her head when Leah slid next to her.

"So, you seem to know y/n somewhat?" Leah asks Katie, a relaxed tone in her voice.

"It's all a bit confusin' really." Katie admitted. "We pass each other on our morning walks and then the other day we just crashed into each other, talked and then I walked her to work yesterday." Katie explains.

"Right, and how long have you been seeing her on your walks?" Leah asks, raising a brow.

"4 months, and I know it sounds bad, and I had no idea who she was before it clicked at the game, but I've continued those walks, just to see her." Katie winces.

"She's like that. Totally addictive." Leah nods and Katie pauses.

"Have you and her - uh..." Katie begins, Leah bursts into laughter, shaking her head.

"No, god no!" Leah denies. "She's just my friend, my best friend really, but she just has this way about her, I can't explain it." Leah hums.

"She fuckin' stunnin' as well." Katie sighs and Leah chuckles.

"I think you'd be good together." Leah adds to Katie who smiles at her in thanks. "She's never really been one for relationships, her last one ended well, but I think she just got scared of it again." Leah adds.

"I didn't think she'd be scared of a thing." Katie hummed and Leah chuckles.

"Wait til you see her around a spider." She warns and Katie laughs as she looks around for her.

"Looking for someone?" A call asks, the two turning around to see y/n pouring Caitlin another drink, the footballer cheering when it's passed to her.

"Angel, as fantastic as always." Leah grins and y/n laughs sending a wink her way.

"Had to impress tonight, we had some VIP's in the house." y/n grins and Leah chuckles.

"Katie's got something to ask you." Leah nods, before walking away leaving Katie silently panicking as she tries to play it off cool.

"Do you?" y/n asks Katie.

"Date me!" Katie says suddenly, before wincing and sighing as she tries not to hit herself in the face. "I mean, go on a date with me?" Katie asks. "Please?" She adds.

"I'd love to." y/n smiles and Katie grins.

"Really?" She asks.

"Of course Katie." y/n smiles. "Now, give me your phone while I pour you another drink." She orders and Katie does so, watching as y/n taps her number in, stopping the Guinness pouring without looking up so she can let it settle.

"I didn't know you could sing either." Katie adds before y/n sends her a look. "Right, didn't ask." Katie nods again.

"Come on." y/n hums as Jamie takes her place, handing her a coat.

"Where are we goin'?" Katie asks, but she takes y/n's outstretched hand never-the-less and lets her pull her out the back and to a small covered area with two heat lamps and a table.

"Smoking shed." y/n says obviously as she lights a cigarette up and turns the heat lamps on.

"You sing and you smoke." Katie says. "Isn't that like oxymoronic?" She asks and y/n shrugs.

Katie moves forward to take the cigarette from the girl but hisses when a harsh slap is placed on the back of her hand.

"Bleedin' woman!" Katie curses and y/n grins happily as she inhales once more on the cigarette. "What'cha do that for?" Katie adds.

"You tried to take my cigarette." y/n says simply, and Katie huffs before darting forward again, trying to reach for the stick, y/n shrieks and skirts around the table, trying to run away.

Katie however is already quicker than her and isn't wearing heels like she is and wraps her arms tightly around y/n so she can grip the cigarette carefully and throw it onto the floor.

"Katie!" y/n whines out in annoyance, turning around to face the footballer who kept a tight grip on her waist. "I wanted that." She huffs.

"I want you." Katie says without thinking. y/n looks at her a small smile on her face before she lets out a laugh, Katie smiling sheepishly as y/n grips her shoulders as she giggles.

"Somehow, that was both smooth and terrible." y/n giggles and Katie chuckles with her.

"I'm not usually this shit at flirtin'." She promises and y/n chuckles.

"Well, let's see if your better at kissing." She mutters before her lips are on Katie's.

The Irishwoman was definitely better at kissing than she was flirting, her lips softly pressing against y/n's before she pushed her hips forward, causing y/n to stumble back into the table.

At the move, y/n gasped, her mouth opening just enough for Katie to dive her tongue in and her hands came up to keep y/n's head in place. Suddenly she was everywhere in her mouth.

It was as if she was mapping y/n's mouth with her own, every inch she could reach being touched by her tongue which finally came to clash into y/n's with the passion of four months of obsession.

Katie didn't slow down as she slid her hands down, lifting y/n onto the table so she could work at a better angle. Her hands pawing at her waist, thighs and hips.

The two parted briefly before diving back in, y/n's hands holding tightly onto Katie's shoulders, her grip tightening further when Katie's lips wondered down her neck, burning the skin she touched.

Katie bit down against y/n's shoulder as she kissed back up, y/n letting out a soft whimper at the action which was better than Katie could have dreamed of.

"If I don't stop now, I'll fuck you into this table." Katie whispered breathlessly against y/n's ear and she sighed, the two pulling away breathless and aroused.

"Definitely better at kissing." y/n breathed, eyes wide and pupils dilated. Katie laughed at that, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips before sighing.

"Come on, lets get inside." She hums and y/n nods. "So, I'll pick you up tomorrow at six?" She asks as they move to the door.

"Only if you stay the night." y/n counters back and Katie smirks.

"I intend on it." She promises lowly and y/n grins as they re-join the bar.

y/n's eyes find Leah's and the blonde smirks at her before smiling and y/n smiles back as she slides back under the bar and finishes off Katie's Guinness which had been more than settled, the woman waiting for it with a smirk.

"Order up!"

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END

this is my christmas gift to you all! you get three fics from me today - so look out for the third later on xoxoxox

-

Queenie x

[amaliazeichnerin]

Some thoughts about the attachment to a fandom

Content Warning: This blog talks about the fandoms about works of Neil Gaiman and J K Rowling.

With regards to the Neil Gaiman allegations, I have read over here on Reddit how some fans are so attached to the show Good Omens they prioritize it over Gaiman’s victims. As in, they desperately want season 3 to happen, at any cost.

And this got me thinking. A fandom object can do a lot for people: Help them through a difficult time in their life, provide them with some comfort in desperate times. I’ve been there myself.

But ultimately, this can get unhealthy. After all, please remember: it’s fiction. All the characters are fictional. The victims of Gaiman are real people. The fandom object is entertainment. It’s escapism.

And it is not there to solve the problems of your everyday life.

In some spiritual communities, there is the phenomenon of „spiritual bypassing“. This means among other things that you try to avoid your everyday problems, trouble, conflicts etc. by escaping into spiritual practices and ideas. And as you can guess, this doesn’t help in the long run.

And the escapism into fantasy worlds and other stories is basically very similar to this phenomenon. Yes, fandoms objects can offer you moments of peace, of excitement, of joy. But if your happiness or even your sanity depends solely on a piece of fiction, better try and find something – or someone – else. Do not only rely on a movie, a franchise, a show, a book series, a game or other forms of entertainment to get you through life.

Because if these products of fiction suddenly get spoiled for instance by allegations like the ones against Neil Gaiman, or the horrible behaviour of J K Rowling or (insert other problematic artists here) … you might become desperate beyond measure.

So here are some suggestions to avoid this.

Find some other sources of comfort. Here are some examples:

A hobby of any kind which doesn’t depend on a fandom.

If you can, try sports or fitness, for instance Yoga, jogging, swimming or maybe a team sport.

Take walks around your neighbourhood.

If it’s possible for you, get yourself some house plants or a pet to take care of daily.

Try to find friends or acquaintances who are not in a fandom (or are just casual fans).

If you like it and it is possible for you, engage with a local community or a community based on a shared interest, for instance for queer folks.

If you like being online, find like-minded people in online spaces which are not related to a fandom.

If you feel like you cannot or won’t let go of the fandom …

Whatever you do, do not get a fandom tattoo. You might deeply regret this.

Instead of buying official merch, buy fanart by fan artists. Instead of buying new books, DVDs etc, buy the material second-hand. Thus, you do not give the creators more money.

If you like fanfiction, read it or write it, or both. If you write fanfiction, you could even write about the topics that have arisen around a problematic artist. For instance Harry Potter fanfiction with positively and authentically represented trans characters or Good Omens fanfiction that discusses SA or consent (No kidding, I have written a headcanon about this, here).

Talk about the allegations against the creators, their behaviour and that you do not support them. Keep that conversation going.

In case of Rowling, many fans of the Wizarding World, Harry Potter etc. openly show their support for trans people for instance with trans pride pins or buttons, shirts or other items. With this, they express that they do not support the anti-trans attitude and ideas of Rowling. If you have any additional ideas, feel free to reblog this and add yours.

[reverie-obsessingtime]

Why I think Sparkle is a maladaptive daydreamer coded character and who it plays part into her character as a whole: from a maladaptive daydreamer (and a character analysis)

(Ok folks, this turned out rather long so get your popcorn and water at hands reach!.....trust me.)

Hi!!!! :,D This is my second post here and it feels like it's been a decade but here I am again haha...

This time I'm here with something I'm more confident in exploring as, I myself, am a maladaptive daydreamer! :,)

And because of that Sparkle hit me like a TRUCK and her MADD (mal. daydreamer for short) coding makes me love her and go insane about it at the same time.(it means a lot to me ok?😭)

Sooo I'm here today to expand and shine light on it to the rest of the masses as there isn't much appreciation for Sparkle (which is understandable cause she is a character not everyone can savor) and I feel like her maladaptive daydreaming can help understand her way of thinking.

comments, reblogs and likes are VERY much appreciated if you would like to see more of my billion cents and share with others to further show me support :,)

if you have any disagreements, corrections, different opinions or such that you would like to discuss I'm always open to further discussions as I would love to receive back engagement with these posts (as long as it is in good manners)

Enough talk from me though, let's get into it already:

What is maladaptive daydreaming?

Throw the google definitions out the window, let me give you a gist of it from someone who has it:

it's a coping mechanism turned addiction that can develop from loneliness or trauma (it is also common in people with ADHD). It helps you deal with the current reality you are in by offering escapism but it differs from normal daydreaming because it becomes maladaptive (as the name suggests).

What that looks like is being addicted to escaping reality through it by daydreaming, which can make you want to trade time forming human bonds, hanging out with friends, doing tasks you should, even taking care of yourself (etc.) with daydreaming. Most of the time you don't even need to do it but daydreaming is so much more fun and entering than ur current boring life that you keep doing it anyway. It can isolate you and make you lose touch with reality (from one degree to another depending on the individual).

But people with MADD DON'T ACTUALLY BELIEVE IN THEIR DAYDREAMS. They KNOW they aren't real. Some might willfully want to believe in them but at the end of the day they know it's all made up. If you are a MADD but get serious delusions about it you might want to check more into that cause something is overlapping.

Maladaptive daydreaming is MUCH more immersive and vivid than normal daydreams (what can I say, practice makes perfect🤭). Some MADD will stim while daydreaming in various ways that have to do with whatever they are daydreaming for enhanced immersion (some will pace around the room, some will make facial expressions, some will catch themselves talking, etc)

The daydreams each differ from individual to individual and can be classified in multiple types, some make OCs while others imagine a different version of themselves or make a character similar to certain degrees to them.

We are very much fictional-stories-makers nerds no matter to be honest

Now that we got the explanation out of the way:

Why do I think Sparkle has MADD?

🎇Proof number one: her character story IV

..... *POINTS AGGRESSIVELY* like?? COME ON!! (my "she is just like me fr!!!" moment and what made me want to make this whole post)

Ok, ok, let me try to be serious about this 😮‍💨

Analyzing this alone:

"It's truly addictive to me" maladaptive daydreaming is a behavior that is addictive to the individual (du uh)

"The more I imagine, the more I get absorbed in those characters" Getting absorbed into your daydreams (and it being addictive) is a core part of MADD and what differentiates it from normal daydreaming.

"the wonderful and tragic situations I create for them, and the emotions they experience in those circumstances..." Here, Sparkle is talking about the characters she makes and how by acting them and playing their roles and their stories, she enjoys herself and is entertained by them.

From my perspective, Sparkle is an individual who finds the emotions of others and how each reacts put in various situations, fascinating, entraining and enjoyable to witness, observe and ponder on more than an average individual.

Which I think is something all of us MADD, writers, OC makers, character analyzing enjoyers and fic writers can relate to ( "no"? ok. now tell me your OCs tragic backstory come on~ come on~ ik you have one. No? Ok then tell me through what psychological horror you want ur fav to go through~ Ik you know that you want them to get tortured by the writers at least just a tiny bit....I know what you are.)

🌸Further more quotes from her character story IV:

"Lies? Come on, I'm not trying to tell a grand story or fabricate an eye-catching experience... I'm wholeheartedly exercising my imagination for my own sake. I imagine various lives, seek excitement, and then recreate them as best I can, and pump the brakes on my imaginative balloon just a second before it bursts."

.... genuinely what do you want me to say honestly, that's SUCH a MADD to say, pls reread how many times it takes to get it. Everything in that is just PEAK maladaptive daydreamingness. Genuinely I don't have anything to add that won't sound like "Water is H2O and 2+2=4" 🤷

"Seriously, having a script is far from enough. First and foremost, I must wholeheartedly believe that the character I'm portraying truly exists. Then, I need to imagine the other stories where the character would appear. I always need extra information to make their motivation logical and emotional."

Sparkle seems dedicated to portraying, grasping and understanding her characters by IMMERSING herself into them as much as possible. Going the EXTRA mile, such as imagining other stories they could appear in, making herself believe the character TRULY exists and informing herself about them to portray them the best.

Which, again, all writers, OC makers and fic writers who actually give more than two dice about their character can relate to as we want our characters to be most accurate and well written and for that we do all Sparkle said.

The "I must wholeheartedly believe that the character I'm portraying truly exists" strikes a chord in me because it's such a ??? NON MADD ARE NOT THAT DEDICATED TO IT JSJSKSJ THAT'S SUCH A MADD MILDLY CONCERNING BUT MADD THING TO SAY SKDHSKSN IK WHAT YOU ARE!!!

OK OK.

I can hear you going "but she is an actor, it's just part of being an actor". Ok Sherlock, but Sparkle is not your average actor. Case and point:

Sparkles love for the stage of acting and how it ties into her MADD:

🎇Who is Sparkle an actor for?

Herself.

Saying "she is so matriculated and dedicated because she is an actor" is only half way true.

Sparkle's love for acting and her maladaptive daydreaming are things that can coexist at the same time. (just like being a writer and MADD for ex. (yes, some of ur fav writers could have been MADD))

Which got born from which? We don't know but both are proof of how much she loves the other.

("But you said MADD develops from trauma or loneliness" YES!! And we still have no real idea about Sparkles backstory but ik damn well a "normal" person with an average fine life doesn't end up like Sparkle.)

(Also no, her character stories 1,2,3 and be at most half trusted as she says she makes them up for each individual both in her char. story 4 and a voice line.

They could either be total nonsense or parts and truths of her past but altered/heavily exaggerated and metaphorical. Pick ur fighter tbh.

"There are a few versions that are particularly popular." "Liking and believing are two different things, but people are more likely to believe in their favorite stories." "Lies? Come on, I'm not trying to tell a grand story or fabricate an eye-catching experience... I'm wholeheartedly exercising my imagination for my own sake."

She is basically toying with everyone who asks including the player for her own amusement and, honestly? Iconic.)

🌸She acts for her own entertainment.

Wealth, status, power... None of this matters to Sparkle. The only thing that can lure her interest is "amusement". (from her twt intro)

Her doing all this. Immersing herself into characters so deeply. It's all for herself and her own enjoyment. Just like MADD is for us and our own enjoyment and entertainment.

Not to be the greatest actor or for others recognizing her. In her introduction on twitter, she says: "I'm not exactly a person loaded with cool skills, and dreaming big isn't really my thing." Which says enough to contradict such ideas.

Yes, some MADD might go on to become writers or actors but some don't. And those who don't could still want to improve their characters FOR THEMSELVES because that will bring them more enjoyment, because they love what they do and their characters for one reason or other and want them to shine like they see them could.

🌸Sparkles elation is acting and MADD.

Elation: great happiness and exhilaration.

What makes her feel elation? Acting. What is her heavy immersive acting that is all for herself to feel elation intertwined with? Maladaptive daydreaming ✨

(wow, shocked, ik)

Sparkles Myriad Celestial Trailer: Behind the Curtain

Next, I want to talk about both her Myriad and Character Trailer through a MADD lens, starting off with her Myriad Celestial Trailer:

What struck a chord in me with it is her "conversation" with her mask. What is her mask really representing for her? The way I see it: it's her MADD and also, Sparkle.

At first she says it keeps on smiling even when she doesn't and that she can hide under it. While in reality we might not be able to smile all the time. Escaping into our daydreams through characters who can helps. The use of a veil to describe it can also be interpreted as choosing to hide your true emotions from yourself and others through emulating a characters happy emotions and state of mind.

Second, she says the mask imitates her face, her emotions, like a mirror showing her own reflection. When writers come up with characters, some might be similar to them through a degree with or without the creator even realizing. This can happen to MADD more since we are creating characters for ourselves and its a coping mechanism so emotions seep through unless we make a character/s that we want to share with others. It's also a way you can understand and grasp yourself better. In this particular setting, I think she means how through some characters she acted as (made by others) herself and emotions shines true,like that character and her acting were a mirror.

Third, it takes a darker turn, "when I'm smiling, you're screaming. When I'm angry, you're crying. When I'm sad, you're smiling". This could be her MADD taking a tool on her.

"When I'm smiling, you're screaming" like when you are content with reality but your addiction's screaming at you to be noticed, like an icky who wants to be scratched. The urge to do it despite not needing to.

"When I'm angry, you're crying" This is her "mask" empathizing with her, weeping for her anger and understanding it like no one else could.

"When I'm sad, you're smiling" this could be the situation from the first instance, but it takes a darker turn so I think the "mask" smiles because it knows that her sadness assures its existence.

Addiction is dependent on your sadness because you do it to comfort you through that sadness. Her acting and MADD is both her addiction and her elation.

From Sparkles tone, she might even be surprised at how, despite her deep sadness, the mask can still smile.

"You're like a face, steering at me" she says at the end. It brings back in mind the imagery of a mirror/reflection. But instead of a reflection, it's a different reflection, still a reflection, but not.

It reminds of when I see characters being depicted as steering into a mirror and they are smiling but their reflection reflects how they truly feel inside (emo ik)

I think that's what it's supposed to mean. Your true self steering at you, it's uncomfortable and penetrating.

Or maybe it's a blank face being unsurprised or just lacking any emotions or maybe the face itself is empty waiting to be drawn on an expression.

It's a very vague sentence, and I don't want to pretend like I 100% understand the meaning behind it, because it can be interpreted in very different ways and only an explanation by the one who said it can give us a sure answer. Maybe it's something we can't even understand with the info we currently have on her.

Overall, she holds positive feelings about her mask but she also recognizes it's kinda fcked up but she still chooses it at the end of the day for the elation it gives ("I am elation" ok girl.)

🌸In this section, I also want to come back to her:

Oh who is she?🎶~

Actually? Good question! :D

I think it was Sampo who commented that Sparkle's name is probably made up (which du uh)

But that is fascinating as well.

We see this girl at first in her trailer looking soft and innocent, nothing like the more.... eccentric person we know today.

If you look closely, she DOESN'T have the butterfly/flower(?) symbol in her eye at the start but she DOES at the end. Which to me represents how she and Sparkle were separate at the start.

"It doesn't matter how I am off stage.

When I'm on stage, I'm just Sparkle"

With the end of this video, this whole thing might be made up go, but that would be too pointless and annoyingly stupid so I'm inclined to believe she isn't fckin with us in this one. (for the most part)

That said, it seems like the girl Sparkle was before was performing for her love of acting, her madd, and for the audience.

But as time went on, doing all of this for an audience over and over lost its meaning (and probably drove her insane a little)

"When I realized that life was just a play, I wanted to leave the stage.

Because off stage, there is a even bigger stage"

Her acting, madd and elation shapes her way of seeing life and others. Why confine yourself to a stage when you can take yourself and your characters to the big stage of life itself and have fun with it the absolute bonkers way you want?

She is very much a Shakespeare truther, as he put it:

"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts."

That's how her acting made Sparkle see things (to an extreme )

🌸Another thing is this scene:

"Im.... I'm not Sparkle

No, I am Sparkle"

Both in her Myriad and Character Trailer, she is actively conflicting with herself.

In this moment. She shows opposition to "Sparkle". The physical constraint is interesting imagery as well. Maybe she feels trapped by "Sparkle"? Like "Sparkle" is against her? Why is she? Because she doesn't allow her to be Sparkle(/herself/her true self)?

She separates herself from Sparkle at the start but becomes her after and laments that she isn't her than at the end, and only then, her eyes have the same symbol this big eyes have in the back (Sparkles) eyes and she becomes Sparkle.

Which, um, IS SO INTERESTING!??!?!?!

I think at the end, she gives into her want to be Sparkle and fully embraces it. Fully embraces the path of elation.

And I don't think Sparkle isn't her. I think it's still her, just more free, unrestrained version of herself that doesn't hold back when the rest of society those.

Think like how different someone with social anxiety disorder is when they feel comfortable with summon and lets out their weirdness for example. We hold back on many actions because of societal perception but she stopped giving a fck and WILL set up a hundred "bombs" on a ship to fck with people for her own amusement.

Seeing life as a stage comes with seeing the absurdism of if all and choosing to stop giving a sht and have your own fun and entertainment. Play the roles you want to play instead of playing the part.

🌸As for my take on this part?

Yeah, maybe the whole thing wasn't her true backstory, but I think it's not 100% false either. Or maybe it is and she sees it as her playing another role. The role of her past self how is so so different it's her own character at this point, right? :))

It sure was more realistic than all the other stories going on in the background (like come on, Harry Potter, Sparkle playing Herta)

"Who is the real Sparkle"

Maybe the answer is all of the Sparkles are Sparkle.

Am I gonna elaborate? Mmm, nope. :)

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

*cracks knuckles* OOOOOKKK this turned out quite long Jesus (never put me to write something about a fictional character in a few paragraphs, that's physically impossible for me)

Don't worry though, I'm probably gonna make a part two soon 🙃 (analyzing her Character Trailer, her design, her in game animations, who knows what ales, etc etc~) (no we are NOT done, we. are absolutely. NOT done.)

Soooo can you tell how much I like Sparkle? She lives rent free in my mind actually.

There isn't enough talk about her more deeply despite how MUCH there is to ponder on so I have to take it upon myself to do it 😮‍💨

If you made it here..... will you marry me?🥹💍

NAH NAH NAH JUST KIDDING 🤭

But if you did then thank you for giving me the time of day and I hope this post spark(l)ed some curiosity and interest into this little hedonistic gremlin! :D

(also no, I don't ignore, justify or support her racist remarks)

I do these posts mostly for myself but someone else to respond back is really nice! :,)

Ok, I'm signing off for this one. See ya in part two 👋:)

[candywife333]

Damn, Dude's Horny

PART 5 of Just Want to See you Like That

This series is based on Jungkook's 3D and is probably going to have close to 6-7 parts, depending on where the storyline takes me. I'm feeling a bit dramatic, so expect a lot of angst. Tumblr is going to be referenced in this fic under a different name, Bumblr (I know, totally goofy name).

Summary: Y/N, an overworked employee at HYBE , only ever posted on Bumblr when she was feeling cornered. It was truly her escape. She didn't really do insta or even twitter. Most people would look at her and think this glass wearing quiet girl would most probably be posting pics of flowers and cute animals. But no, looks could be deceiving. Y/N's posts were far from innocent. In fact , they were borderline risque. She didn't expect anybody but a few horny people to come across these pics; people who would view and compliment in the best case scenario. What she didn't expect was that a certain star would be a regular consumer of her material. A star that technically had no business simping after her like that.

Disclaimer: This work is not representative of the real Jungkook's personality and behavior. It is merely fiction and please treat it as such.

Trigger Warning: voyeurism, exhibitionism, may or may not have dub-con later on

Please don't read the fic if any of these themes are disturbing or offensive to you.

Taglist is open

I grumbled under my breath the entire way back to my house. I still couldn't believe I was going back home with my literal harasser; a guy I barely knew. I thanked the cab driver and grabbed Jungkook to help him out of the car. His majesty obliged my poor effort by grabbing one of my tits with his right hand and my back with his other, shoving his face into my collarbone , hot breath gliding over my skin, making me shiver.

Climbing up a flight of stairs with a heavy man leaning on me would not be pleasant. But with some grunting and cursing, I finally got him up to my solace, my beautiful home; the one redeeming quality in my life. My grandmother had left it to me. Initially it was a house with two separate floors, with separate kitchens on each floor. The floors were connected by a staircase, but were otherwise two separate units. With the tough financial constraints of having to fund my own life, I leased the bottom floor to a renter, so I could get some sort of passive income to save in my bank account.

In my opinion, the top floor was the best floor. I kept a beautiful terrace filled with a full nursery of flowers of many varieties and vegetables aplenty for me to cook with. With how much produce I got from my garden, I barely had to venture out to the farmer's market for fruits and vegetables. My roses, my babies were all lined up in a row, merely swaying with the night breeze. Placed right next to it was my sofa swing, adorned with fairy lights in the center.

Gazing at my little plant babies to calm me down, I placed Jungkook on my sky blue comfy roll out sofa. He would be sleeping on it tonight. Placing a cup of water and 2 ibuprofen pills on the coffee table next to his sleeping form, I pushed him onto his side to ensure that he wouldn't choke on his own spit and die.

I walked into my bedroom, showering quickly and put on a pink babydoll lace top and matching shorts. I turned off my lamplight, getting my alarm ready for the next day.

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

I got up in the morning in a surprisingly good mood, despite what had transpired the night before. I opened my window, feeling the cool breeze filter in. My only suitors, the bevy of morning glories outside my window had changed into a mauve shade in the presence of weak sunlight.

I decided to forgo my robe. It was my house, why should I feel uncomfortable in it? He was the unwelcome guest. I ventured out to see him sprawled out onto the pull out couch still knocked out. I don't know how a human being could look so ethereal even with drool dripping down his chin. I guess that's what glutathione drips, thousands of dollars spent at a dermatologist, and good genes does for a person.

I decided to whip up a hearty breakfast before heading into work around 10 AM since there wouldn't be much to do today. I worked on dicing vegetables for the japchae I would make and got some salmon out to lightly fry with a marinade. I made a few omelettes, cutting up a few of them into tiny strips to go with fried rice for lunch. The last item to be made was kimbap stuffed with chicken and spicy mayo sauce I had already made yesterday.

As I was busy getting everything together, I failed to notice the man slowly waking up near me.

Jungkook's POV

I woke up to what seemed to be the faint noises of cooking. It was quiet except for some soft humming and the faint sizzle of oil simmering in a pan. The smell was spectacular, the scent of meat and noodles permeating the place. I sat up slowly to be greeted by a sight so different from what I was prepared for. The house was very quaintly decorated, like something in a movie about fairies and elves.

There were two humongous bay windows filled with soft looking pink cushions next to them and numerous other sofa cushions strewn over the house giving the place a cozy feel. Daylight filtered in and I caught the sight of humongous maple trees and flowers of different varieties clustered outside the windows. A wind chime sat next to the window, making faint musical harmonies with the birds chirping outside.

The place looked like a cross between a tree house and a cottage, yet somehow furnished with cozy interiors of pink and baby blue. I couldn't believe a place like this existed in Seoul. It must be super expensive to acquire this space.

My cheeks blushed as I was met with an even more delectable sight, Y/N was at the kitchen, back faced towards me. She was cooking something at the stove, expertly flipping what seemed to be numerous omelettes and grilling fish. It was my lucky day. Her scrumptious ass was faced towards me. She was in a dainty baby doll dress littered with little flowers, her ass framed by pink silk shorts that barely covered her. Her thick thighs and voluptuous butt were even more accentuated as she bent upwards to reach for something in a cupboard above.

If she looked so perfect from the back, I couldn't wait to see what she looked like from the front. I had never seen her so scantily clad, and I was already frothing at the mouth. She was my dream girl when I found her online, and after seeing her in person, I merely confirmed my prior assumption. She was definitely the one for me. Her sassy mouth, confidence, strength, and her beautifully addictive body could not go to any other man but me.

She turned around and as my jaw dropped seeing her plentiful cleavage spilling out of the bounds of the top, begging to be squeezed and kissed, she quirked her eyebrow at me, "Aren't you going to leave now? Wouldn't want your presence disturbing my brunch".

taglist: @fortunecookiesworld, @sporadicarcadebanana

@darkuni63 , @jessicalynn85 ,

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #76

You know. After a day or so to process this version of events, I think I can finally put into words why so many people cry out for your blood, but not Rufus's or his father's, even though they've done things that are arguably far worse than anything you've ever done. Goodness, but isn't it the same age-old story of people villainizing abuse victims for striking back while excusing the abuser that broke the survivor to that point? And we see it all the time in my world; nobody does anything about bullying at school until the bullied person finally punches their bully in the face, and then the bully gets off scot-free while the victim gets suspended. I think of spouses who, backed into a corner and trying to defend themselves, strike back at the spouse who has been abusing them, and the spouse defending themselves gets charges pressed while the other one who had been abusing them gets pitied. I think about trafficked humans (many of them are snatched up as CHILDREN) who, in an effort to get free or to defend themselves, strike back at the person trafficking them and escape, only to then face a world who hates them for having been trafficked. And all of these things have one thing in common: the price for escaping from being "owned" is often another form of punishment or imprisonment.

Of course, I am not saying that people should call for Rufus's or his father's blood, either. Or even for Hojo's. They are not different from you - either they have congenital defects in the parts of their brain that are responsible for empathy (and pretending like this is a moral issue instead of a brain wiring issue is ableism), or they've lived lives that have beaten their psyches into a shape that makes them think that hurting other people and treating them like objects is the only way to survive. This is ALSO a brain wiring issue - though this kind of brain wiring issue is better classified as a psychological injury (due to attachment disruption or childhood trauma) than as an illness or congenital defect.

Yeah, you read all of that right. I said what I said and I meant it, and I know that people aren't gonna like it, but today I am tired and bitter from all the shit I'm seeing, and out of fucks to give as a result. I don't demonize Rufus or his father. I don't demonize Hojo, either. They have done horrific and inexcusable things and I feel very angry in response to that, but they need HELP. They, too, are capable of making a different choice and turning around. Imagine that. It's almost as though calling for mercy for you (or in other words, "being a Sephiroth fan" or a "Sephiroth apologist", as people like to call folks like me for the purpose of degrading us) has absolutely nothing to do with your looks or with trying to "fix" you so I can date you (I'm sorry, but the idea of "fixing" a person to get with them is absolutely fucking barftastic🤢🤮), or whatever other bullshit nonsense that people who have never been through severe and ongoing grooming or abuse without any kind of support (support can be from a teacher, friend, other family member, etc.) like to accuse us of. Hoodathunkit?

I think, too, that lots of people see that potentially destructive side of you in themselves, and I think they would rather see people who lapse in reining it in die than acknowledge that it's within them, too. Or perhaps living a life that is painful enough to break them into such a horrific shape is unfathomable to them. Either way, one fact remains: people don't want to own up to the fact that literally every single one of us has the capacity to do something similar to what you did, if their life circumstances break them in the way that leads to that kind of terrible, tragic, infuriating, and wholly inexcusable outcome. You're not some especially monstrous thing. You're not a lone goddamn wolf or a rare exception to some general rule or an isolated fucking edge case. And I know it because people in my world make choices similar to yours EVERY SINGLE DAY, even if their means of enacting those choices differ from yours.

The capacity to inflict horror upon other living things is part of the human condition. It is in ALL OF US, whether we want to fucking acknowledge it or not. And all it takes to bring it out is a long enough string of psychologically damaging events in the absence of appropriate support. Cases like yours are NOT random events caused by "inherently bad people"; there's no such fucking thing as "inherently bad people". There are conditions and events that lead to people doing horrific things, and these conditions and events can be found and prevented before they get to that point, if only everyone keeps their eyes open and pays attention! I spend as much time as I can trying to reach those that conventional wisdom says are "unreachable" PRECISELY in service to trying to keep my eyes open and pay attention!

Because horrific events and bad choices are like bacteria - they DO NOT spontaneously generate ("spontaneous generation theory" used to be a thing that people believed about microorganisms a long time ago)! Conditions LEAD TO THEIR GROWTH. And the solution to a person afflicted with bacteria is NOT to kill or demonize them (though this is how they used to be treated; check out most of human history!)! You're supposed to give them antibiotics to REMOVE THE CONDITIONS THAT ALLOW FOR BACTERIAL GROWTH. And the same rules apply to people who make violent choices - you remove the conditions that produce the choices, NOT the person who made them. But goddammit, I am only one person, and… fuck, there are just SO. MANY. STARFISH… stranded on the beach sand…

Also, you know… even as far back as the original game, anyone with half a brain understood that you must have been crying, weeping, sobbing openly during your time at the library. In this version of events, we saw you do that for just a moment before it was choked back and replaced with… something else (I know what this is like; I still have the capacity to cease crying immediately via dissociation; this skill was literally beaten into me, and I imagine it's the same for you). And in my world, it's popular to believe that men should never cry or be vulnerable in any way, shape, or form (this bit of socio-cultural bullshit is actually generational trauma, and it's literally fucking killing people, in the form of internalized or externalized violence), so lots of people here are going to have less empathy for you at least in part because you defied the "cultural norms" of what it means to be a man and a leader (again, this is generational trauma mistaken for culture, and it needs to fucking stop because people are dying over it). And it's so… it's so…

Ugh… Sephiroth, all of the things I know, all the suffering in the world, all the causes of it… it's all swirling around in my head today, and it's heavy. It's so fucking heavy. Watching all the people, every single one of them beautiful and good, doing what they do to themselves and each another, hurting themselves and each other, psychologically or physically maiming themselves and each other, even torturing and killing themselves or each other, all because somehow doing these things feels easier than trying to repair and restore everything… they don't know what they're doing. And there's not… there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I look at the state of things on a large scale. Our dying planet. The endless wars. The marginalized groups of people. The violence and the hate crimes. The genocides. I want to cry and to scream and to throw up all at once.

…But I suppose much of that is neither here nor there. Suppose anyone with "conventional wisdom" would tell me I'm "reading too goddamn much" into a "silly video game", but… given that the media in our world LITERALLY PERPETUATES STEREOTYPES THAT KILL PEOPLE, I gotta say I'm more than a little fucking bitter about that today.

In any case… you - an abused, exploited, and bullied person most of your life - escaped being owned by Shinra (in the clumsiest and most ridiculous and horrible fucking way possible, but still), only to find yet another goddamn chain around your neck. If it's not Jenova controlling you, then it's your trauma and conditioning pulling the strings. Either way you're acting like a goddamn puppet. There, I said it. And as much as I love you, if you don't like that I said it, then too fucking bad; maybe try actually DOING something about it.

Sephiroth. As much as I love you, I am always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you squandered your voice so recklessly back then. I'm always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you fucking! abused! yourself! for a week! until you broke! WHAT THE FUCK.

If you had simply! Told people! What you had been put through! If you had told them what Shinra was doing! If you had simply opened your freaking mouth to talk about your experiences to a bunch of people who practically worshipped you, you would have eventually had millions of people rallied with you to put an end to Shinra! Sephiroth, for fuck's sake, YOU WERE A GODDAMN GENERAL!! You know how to lead people! And you know how to protect them! Get a goddamn grip!

And I know that the mayor guy acted all entitled to your time while you were exhausted and still grieving for your friends, and it was shitty of him to pass judgment on you when he had no idea what you were going through. But ultimately, it is up to YOU to communicate your needs and feelings, not up to the people around you to anticipate what they are! And I know that the guy took your picture without your permission, and I know they didn't heed when you said "not today". But there is a difference between "having no respect for your word" and "being so excited and happy about your presence that they are unable to contain themselves". It is still up to YOU to maintain your boundaries even if other people don't like it!

Sephiroth! I know that you were struggling! And I know that you spent your whole life being bullied and abused to the point that you felt as though your voice had no power. I know that. I understand that. I am still dragging myself up out of that hole. I know that you were trying to punish evil, and that you saw these people as being complicit in the system that hurt you, your friends, your mother (who I assume you now know is Lucrecia, NOT Jenova), and your planet. I get that you were trying to punch your bullies back in their faces, but you punched the WRONG PEOPLE. And even then: why punch people when you can instead wield your voice!

Sephiroth, despite the harshness of your upbringing and all the other things that make you stand out, you still have privilege! You have status! You have fame! You have power! You have a remarkably able male body! YOU ARE THE KIND OF PERSON THAT PEOPLE LISTEN TO! You have a face that people are willing to see! You have a voice that people are willing to hear! And there is a difference between holding people accountable for being complicit in a system that benefits them, and punishing people for existing in a system (even if that system benefits them) that they did not consent to being born into!

You can't even begin to imagine what I would be willing to give up in order to have a voice like yours, so that I could call for compassion and mercy in ways that would get people to open their eyes and take action in service to putting a stop to all the suffering that exists in this place that I live in.

But no. Instead of being brave and coming out of your shell to use your voice and social power in response to injustice and exploitation, you simply defaulted to your instinctual behaviors. You did the thing you've been trained to do. Like Pavlov's dog, the bell was rung and you drooled everyfuckingwhere. You used your power to cut everything down, instead of using your voice to rally people together for a cause that they ABSOLUTELY would have followed because YOUR face and YOUR voice would have been the one leading it.

Sephiroth. This fucking sucks. What you did to yourself in that library - starving, dehydrating, and sleep depriving yourself and pushing yourself past your limits while you were already strained - fucking sucks. And what you did in the throes of your agony also sucks. Punishing the people around you because your brain was addled and you didn't fucking fact-check what you were reading fucking sucks! And I do understand very well why you did all this; I was abused similarly to you, albeit in a far less extreme way, and thus a long time ago I used to think similarly to the way you did after your fall (I don't think that way anymore because I had help, thank freaking goodness). But IT STILL FUCKING SUCKS. And it was STILL unacceptable. You can't change what you did. But you can make a different choice, moving forward!

Conventional wisdom says that there is no coming back from having fallen, but I am living proof that in this case, "conventional wisdom" is GARBAGE. I would not be sitting here, imploring you to turn your eyes towards a kinder, more compassionate worldview - one that exists in stark defiance of everything I used to believe because of what I was taught as a child - if "conventional wisdom" were true. In addition, I have met other people in the course of my derping around on this broken fucken planet who also serve as proof that anyone, no matter what has happened to them or what they've done in the past, can rise up into making a different choice. And these cases, too, are not "edge" cases. They are not exceptions to a rule. The capacity to heal and grow and change - just like the capacity to hurt and regress and stagnate - is part of the human condition. And this means that anyone can turn around! No! Matter! How! Far! They've! Walked! In! The! Wrong! Direction!!

Goddammit, Sephiroth! Turn yourself around!! Because although I understand what you're trying to do, what you're doing is NOT the way to get it done! What you're doing is BULLSHIT! Maybe you think you're demonstrating your "phenomenal power" or whatever by breaking everything around you, but what you're REALLY doing is yielding to your conditioning like it's got a chain around your neck and a cattle prod in its hand! It's weaksauce! You ALREADY KNOW HOW TO BREAK THINGS. You've spent your whole life being forced to do that even when you didn't want to!

So you gonna, you gonna what? Sit here and claim that you're "the chosen one" or some fucking horseshit, as though you've taken your power back? When really you just took the easy route of doing the same old shit you've always done - bending over and making yourself a slave to someone else's fucked-up agenda, and becoming the very thing you reviled against SO HARD that you burned down an entire fucking village in disgust, despair, and rage? I ain't buyin' it, and neither should you! All you've done is exchanged one codependent relationship for another! And it's getting fucking old! You can do better than blind, subservient obedience to some random fucking space parasite that don't give even two shits about you as much as it cares about your capacity to allow it to resume its life cycle! You've gotta know that even if you really did manage to break everything (you won't, because I fucking promise you that you'll be stopped), as soon as you've served its purpose, it's gonna toss ya like yesterday's trash, if not outright consume you like a female mantis after it's done using its mate like a fucktoy!

The developers said that we've only seen 1% of your power or some shit, but you fucking know what? You could wipe the whole goddamn universe clean. You could extinguish every last star. And STILL some random fucking autistic chick from some random fucking planet in a random fucking solar system in a random fucking galaxy has your ass beat in ALL the ways that count! And that's NOT ACCEPTABLE. I am nothing! I am NO ONE. Sephiroth!! COME ON ALREADY!!

You want strength? Do the work to defy your conditioning. Do the work to love the broken things. Do the work to become someone who does no harm yet takes no shit. Do the work to become someone who can remain soft even in this sharp and unforgiving world. Do the work to get out of your own damn way. Do the work to become someone who can treat yourself like you actually fucking matter. Do the work to get up off your knees and live. DO! THE! WORK! Don't just do the same thing you've always done and claim you've won! Don't act like a pigeon playing chess - shitting all over the board and then struttin' and swaggerin' around like you're some kind of grandmaster! That's NOT how this shit works! You haven't broken free of the pattern! All you've done is changed the hand holding your leash!

You have to stop blindly giving away your power to anyone who claims to love you! You have to stop using your power in service to the conditioning that tried to snatch away who you really are on the inside! They tried to steal away your gentleness! They tried to steal away your emotions! They tried to steal away your ability to cry, your ability to be vulnerable, your ability to be compassionate and loving! Are you just gonna sit here and let them? Are you going to keep pretending like you're cruel and hard-hearted just because a bunch of people who cared nothing for you told you that's how a proper warrior is supposed to be? Are you going to keep on like this, doing the same thing you've always done, just because taking the time to grieve and to make choices that are actually in alignment with your nature are things that feel too difficult for you to do?

…Fucking hell, but some days, clamoring for you to get your shit together feels A LOT like Atreyu trying to pull Artax up out of the swamp:

Come on!!! Turn around!!! You have to, NOW! You have to try!! You have to care!! You can't let the darkness overtake you! You gotta move or you'll die!! Please!! There's still life on the other side of mistakes. There's still life on the other side of despair. There's still life on the other side of rage, of loss, of shattering. It doesn't have to be permanent!

…I won't give up. Even if you leave those of us who care for you sitting and weeping in the middle of the swamp, staring forlornly, or in shock and in disbelief at the place where you sank, I'm not going to quit. I will keep calling out your name in hopes that you'll follow the sound back to the light. Because you're worth the effort. You're worth the pain. You're worth the grief.

I'll leave you with these:

Take the hands outstretched to you and get your ass out of the goddamn swamp. Having a swamp ass is not a good time for ANYONE involved. So please. I…

…I'll write to you tomorrow. Because I love you. In the same way that any person loves their friends. Do everything in your power to keep yourself and your planet and your friends safe. I'm begging you. Please.

Your friend, Lumine

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly - Chapter 5. Movie Night

Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: cursing - Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. F!OC was recommended to me since there's a lot of description of her but I'm writing her as You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: You start your job at the library, meet a new resident of Jackson and Joel takes you to the movies. 1.8K

Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the book line divider. :)

Chapter 1 Here Chapter 2 Here Chapter 3 Here Chapter 4 Here

Chapter 5. Movie Night

After stopping by the clothing swap, Joel walks you to the library in your “new” old black t-shirt, with the faded logo of Guns n’ Roses, one of your favorite bands from childhood, you can still remember most of the words to the entire Use Your Illusion II album. Your eyes lit up when you found it and it actually fits you, even a tiny bit loose, your favorite. Joel couldn’t help the smile that formed on his plush lips seeing you full of glee, like a child that never went through any of this shit. At the library, you meet an older gentleman named Doc, long grey hair, warm smile and a sparkle in his eyes. He’s hoping to retire this year and you’re just in time to learn the ropes and take over. He walks you through the stacks and what he’s been able to do with the last three years he’s spent there. Organizing, cataloguing, working out distribution to the townsfolk. He even encourages you to suggest your own ideas on how to facilitate the place. You take your time walking around and looking at the books, all in various stages of use, but mostly well held up. Sometimes there are even multiple copies of something where the beginning is in one and the end in the other.

It's magical, being surrounded by all these stories, all these means of escape. And you haven’t even gotten to the VHS tape section with the movies. You grew up going to the video store every Friday with your parents, picking out something for them and something for you. Sitting in your room and watching the stories unfold before your eyes. You even worked in a video store before the outbreak, studied filmmaking in school. This place is already healing you. You can feel it. “Ash, got a visitor here, needs help finding something,” Doc says to break you from your reverie. You walk to the front desk and find a young man, probably in his early 30s, blonde hair, average height, good looking, but kind of like the asshole in your high school that’s on the soccer team and makes fun of you in front of his friends. “Ash, is it? I heard we had a newbie in town. I’m Ryan, nice to meet you,” he says as he takes your hand and gives it a squeeze. You still at the touch, people don’t really touch like this anymore and you haven’t been touched since you got here except for Joel and that was …different.

“Hi, uh, what can I help you with?” You say curtly. “Well, I’m looking for something to read, maybe something sci-fi, think you can help me out,” he says with a smirk. This guy isn’t here to read, he’s here to get the info on the new girl, ugh fuck off. “Um, sure, follow me.” Even though you’re new, you’ve quickly made a map in your head of the library space and the way Doc has taken to organizing and grouping things. You head straight to fiction section, which is currently just by author last name, you’ll change that. Wanting to get this over quickly, you look for H.G. Wells, and find The Invisible Man and hand it to the guy. So, Brad or whatever the fuck his name is will get away from you. “A Grotesque Romance,” he says reading the subtitle on the cover. “Interesting choice,” again with the smirk. “Yup, hope you enjoy it,” you say not really looking at him anymore. “I’m sure I will,” he says looking your body up and down. “See ya around, Ash.” You smile quickly and turn to walk away. Well, that’s the first person you’ve met that you immediately dislike, you guess it was bound to happen in a town with this many fucking people. A very obvious downside.

At the end of your shift, you say goodbye to Doc and start on your walk to the dining hall that will be turned into a movie theatre for the evening for a viewing of Jurassic Park. Your tote bag, courtesy of your new boss, filled with three books. Carrie by Stephen King for you, a graphic novel called, Somewhere in the Stars for Ellie, and No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy for Joel. You wonder if he’ll like your old man joke or not. And like you’ve manifested him; he’s standing outside the library leaning against a lamppost, waiting for you. He’s stunning, standing with his arms crossed against his chest, in a green flannel with red lines and the sleeves rolled up to reveal his thick forearms and his hair wet and slicked back. And he’s there for you. He looks up and notices you walking towards him, you bite your lip to try and hide your smile. “Well, how’d it go?” He asks with his mouth in a line but his eyes, they’re different, warmer. “Good,” you answer, “Doc’s really lovely and it’s amazing how many books you all have.” He watches you speak, and you think he might see something new, and you feel it too, invigorated. You begin to walk in step with one another to the movie night.

“I got Ellie something,” you say as you dig into your bag and retrieve the graphic novel, handing it to Joel. He smiles warmly, probably thinking of Ellie and says, “She’ll love this.” After he hands it back you put it away and reach for the book you got for him, “And this …is for you.” Your hold your breath hoping he likes your choice. “Old Men, that a crack on me, sweetheart?” He says with a chuckle. Sweetheart, he just called you sweetheart. He continues, “Thank you, that’s real kind. Always wanted to read this one, never had the chance, always workin’ too much before everything happened.” “Good, well now you can.” He hands it back and your fingers brush just slightly and like this morning you feel a bolt of electricity run through you. You look away and hope he can’t see the blush on your cheeks.

When you walk into the theatre together, quite a few people look your way with curiosity. You don’t know if it’s because you’re new in town or because you’re with the big, bad Joel Miller. But soon, you don’t care because you smell the popcorn and hear people laughing and see the big projector screen. And you almost sob right then and there. Joel’s watching you in wonder. He lightly touches your shoulder, leaning in close he whispers, “Go pick out a seat wherever you want, I’ll get us some snacks.” A shiver runs down your spine and he’s gone. You find what you deem the perfect seat, close to the middle and along the center aisle. You see Ellie who gives you a wave and wanders after a pretty, dark-haired girl around her age. She looks so happy, and it makes your heart clench in your chest. You start to worry how much you’ve gotten comfortable here, it’s a lot so soon. And you worry that it could all be taken away, like everyone and everything in your life already has.

Before you can spiral too far into your mind, Joel sits next to you. “You couldn’t pick a place a little less surrounded by people?” he says with a grunt. “Hey, you said anywhere I want,” you pout at him. “That I did, I guess I shouldn’t leave it up to you next time,” he says with another hint of a laugh. Did he say next time? Did you really hear that? The movie starts to play, and you and Joel share popcorn, he holds it for you and offers it over to you every couple of minutes. You hear the music by John Williams, and it takes you back. When you were a little girl and your parents would sit you between them and watch you as your eyes lit up taking it all in, so enthralled. Popcorn now long forgotten, it comes to one of the parts you’ve never forgotten, when the girl, is about to fall through the ceiling and the velociraptors are underneath her dangling body and they snap at her legs. You jump out of your skin and grab onto Joel’s hand. After the jump scare you start to laugh, still holding onto him, then you look over at him and he’s already looking at you, a soft smile on his face, until both your smiles fade replaced with a longing gaze until he drops your hand and turns back to the movie. You worry you’ve gone too far, asked for too much, too soon. You clasp your hands back in your lap and try to enjoy the rest of the movie in silence.

As the T-Rex screams and the banner falls, the room is filled with applause. Everyone loved this movie; it didn’t matter who you were. The lights come on and everyone begins to make their way out into the night air of Jackson. Joel says he’s going to find Ellie and for you to “stay put.” Eyeroll. Unfortunately, that’s when Brad or whoever the fuck from earlier decides to come and say hello. “Hi there, Ash. How’d you like the movie?” he says while again looking you up and down. “It’s great, one of my favorites but I guess you weren’t born when it came out, huh?” You don’t even know if it’s true you just want to infantilize him, so he’ll go away. Instead, he laughs and touches your arm, “You may be right about that one.” Suddenly, Joel is back at your side with Ellie, “Time to go.” He says to you gruffly. Ellie is looking between you, Joel and what’s his name wide-eyed like she’s waiting for fireworks or a fight to break out. “Oh, hey Joel, I didn’t know you knew our girl, Ash here,” he says with a smirk, looking only at you. “She’s staying with us, Ryan.” Joel says, fist clenched at his side. Ryan, oh that’s his name. “Okay, well maybe you can save me a seat next time, Ash,” Ryan says with a tip of his hat gesture, the dumbass isn’t even wearing a hat. Idiot. “Bye,” you say as you turn to walk after Ellie and Joel. Ellie hangs back with you as Joel darts off ahead of you. With a grin Ellie says, “What was all that about, huh?” You look at her with a disgusted look on your face, “I honestly have no idea.” Over the next several days, you avoid Brad/Ryan like the plague. Haha, plague. And sadly Joel barely speaks to you, but he does leave out your wolf mug by the coffee machine every morning.

[jayden-killer]

DREAMS ARE MY REALITY.

what would happen if your favourite fictional character appeared in your bed..?

Part 2

A/N: finally came back! Exams period is almost done, so I can mainly focus on writing fan fics and replying to your comments. Thanks to everyone who never stopped giving me support during these months.~ For this story I was heavily inspired by the "Reality" song by Richard Sanderson. Last night I watched "La Boum" and something clicked in my mind the moment the movie titles came by. I highly recommend that movie (and its main song!).

☆

Fantastic. Another day gone bad. Not only I lost my notes taken at university with great effort (who knows where they flew thanks to the wind...), but it had rained until the end of the afternoon and a careless car passed by at great speed, soiling me with rain and migo mixed together.

«Ugh! You fucker!» My feet stomped hard on the dirt, realizing that what had just happened was just the beginning of a long evening. I'll just open the front door, walk into the kitchen, and throw my comfort on the sofa that I look forward to.

It seemed like an eternity would pass on the way back, and my body barely even managed to walk, almost like a dead weight. Don't walk on the ground. That would have been the last straw.

«Shit,» I thought aloud, the moment my eyes saw my house from afar, «Finally home». Taking the keys out of the backpack was also, a real pain in the ass: a real tangle of wires and metal had formed there since my headphones had not been folded properly. A sigh escaped from my lips the moment I walked through the front door, searching with difficulty for the light switch. I didn't waste any more time removing the ruined clothes (and placing them in a water bath) and letting a hot shower melt my nerves. It was just what I needed.

I knew I had a smile as I lathered my body thoroughly. Now the scent of lavender was something calming.

``I should make some tea too``.

~

«Oh, now that's what I am talking about! ». My smile didn't leave my face, as I excitedly opened the book I had left hanging a few days ago, due to my exam period. Being under stress didn't help me find the concertation and desire to identify myself with the main character of the book. ``That's enough``. This thought flooded my mind. ``Now you can rest, because you deserve it, so enjoy your reading``.

``Thanks, other me, maybe you're right`` I replied to the little inner voice that I assumed had a satisfied grin on her face.

Yet my eyes fell on the mega poster that took up most of my bedroom wall: Miguel O'Hara. This man was going to be the death of me one of these days. I remembered the day when my heart wanted him only for me: in the new Spiderman, starring Miles Morales, many would have said that he was the perfect villain, even if I kept countering, claiming the opposite. Of course, his anger issues didn't help get people on his side. He was perfect in every aspect: tall, muscular, intelligent, thoughtful. My god, where do I have to sign to have him next to me?

«Too good to be true». I sighed aloud again as I pulled my attention away from the poster and back into my book. I think it wasn't long after I started reading and my eyes started to get heavy. I might have let go of the book, and fallen asleep with it on my chest. It had been a bad day in every way. Perhaps that is the reason I imagined hugging Miguel more than once. Maybe that's why I also felt my mattress getting heavier under my back.

~

I was awakened by the sun's rays penetrating through the curtains of my room. I loudly grunted at the thought of getting up early to do my daily cleaning chores around the house. But what harm would it have been to stay in my warm bed for at least an hour longer? Turning over, I had the feeling that my bed had gotten much heavier. Or was I still dreaming of hugging Miguel?

Slowly my eyes opened and focused on an unfamiliar figure lying next to me. I had a moment of confusion. Why...was there a person in my bed?

Only when I fully focused on who was in front of me I almost fainted on the spot.

"AAAAHH!" I grabbed the first pillow nearby, slapping the stranger hard several times, and leapt out of bed, the pillow still in my hands. The man, taken aback, tripped on the ground, and a great thud resounded in the bedroom. I hugged the pillow tightly to my chest. Oh, holy god. What was happening at that moment? I was so confused I could have sworn my face was as just as confused.

The man grunted aloud and scrambled to his feet, throwing his hands in surrender.

«What the fuck did I do?!» he yelled, in sheer confusion too. Maybe at that moment, I could have passed out, I swear to whoever you want! Because whoever I had in front of me was a real dream.

«Holy shit...»

«What?!»

I swallowed hard. «You are Miguel O'Hara. Miguel O'Hara was in my room, in my bed!»

[tlonista]

I wish the conversation over Problematic Relationships In Fiction weren't so heavily framed around individual stories. Because I don't care about some random fucked-up novel, but I do feel like current romance media trends toward a recommendation-fueled monoculture with some frustratingly rigid gender norms, and a lot of "does fiction affect reality" discourse offers no way of talking about it.

Every time I dip my toe outside AO3 (Wattpad, Kindle Unlimited, Reddit, my BookTok experience is limited but that's the vibe I get there) I'm dismayed by how hard it is to find M/F romance that's not implicitly or explicitly about eroticized male-dominated power imbalance. Not just "he's a serial unaliver" dark romance, but the huge focus on hypermasculine heroes taking care of heroines and possessive alpha-male fated mates and nigh-inescapable trends like "good girl" praise-kink stuff.

Obviously this was always common in romance publishing, but a) the internet was supposed to support niches and b) I find significantly more diversity on AO3, so I think it can. It's just that no other platform or online community seems structured to do it. Instead a combination of recommendation feeds, word-of-mouth virality, and fast-fashion self-publishing surfaces infinite variations on a handful of the most broadly appealing industry blockbusters and buries everything else.

So instead of offering an alternative to old monolithic print publishing, online platforms seem even better at elevating male-domination kinks from "a fairly popular dynamic" to an inescapable default of What Romance Is. Even if you're fully aware it's a sexual fantasy, it gets downright hard to articulate desire in any other way, especially if you don't have a fully-formed picture of what you like. Unless you think sexuality simply isn't a "real" component of people's lives, I think this is a reasonable example of fiction in aggregate affecting reality in a negative way.

(It's also obviously not unique to romance lit. I just can't speak to stuff like video porn firsthand, and I don't see a ton of pushback on people criticizing the gender dynamics of Pornhub.)

But if the only available question is "is X book corrupting impressionable young women," then... no, that's silly. If anything, the aggregate system makes individual books feel bad in ways the authors probably didn't intend. Like, in Popular Kink Land, "your feminism says no but your body says yes" tropes are appealing for some women working through a particular kind of purity culture. In Inescapable Dynamic Land they take on this Gorean overtone where all women secretly want a man to take charge of them. The former is not my thing but fine; the latter feels like some kind of weird accidental gaslighting.

To the extent AO3 escapes this, I think it's for four reasons.

A focus on tags and chronological sorting, which helps surface non-popular stuff and gives readers more control

It's strictly non-commercial so there's less incentive to write for the broadest audience or fill the site with boilerplate sludge

It doesn't segregate categories like "romance for men", so there's less gerrymandering of cross-gender niches like femdom

The fourth reason, which is most interesting to me, is that fanfic ships (specifically not X-reader ships) create easily discoverable literary microgenres drawn from a huge range of media outside the tropey echo chamber of Romancelandia Proper.

In my experience it takes hours of scouring Reddit and Goodreads to find non-normative original romance, but one AO3 search and a few clicks to get from "I played Resident Evil and liked Ada and Leon's vibe" to a substantial microgenre about a badass woman making a cute guy stutter, or "I loved Kaz and Inej in Six of Crows" to a bunch of takes on a not-conventionally-masculine hero and a powerful but vulnerable heroine pining for each other. Since a decent number of fanfic authors also write non-fanfic, there's even a chance you'll find somebody who does original characters with a sensibility you like. I have no idea how you'd bring this system outside shipfic, but I'd love to see someone try.

[sophieinwonderland]

Decided to do a little vent.

Honestly i hate how big of a deal fakers are for sysmeds, like i don't think they really exist?..

Like... No? Like, they're litterally not??

It's like fakeclaiming depression, autism, adhd, etc. Esp for young people and minors. and generally, pretty "childlike" escapists who are into cartoons and etc and not oversharing photos and irl life. People really assume that people who spend a lot of time on fiction really can't ever dissociate and don't want to escape reality... Somehow. Idk ableism aimed at young people is so unreal i hate it, because they're actually MOST vulnerable to all abuse, but get dismissed SO MUCH by everyone just because they don't share all shit happening to them.

I saw this soooo much for depression like "oh these kids are just faking and romanticize it blah blah" when they're litterally coping and express feelings through art... In a healthy way? Never understood it.

Ocdd isn't really so funny and normal, even accomodations aren't so great, to fake it, being system isn't instant +1000 followers as they think. If person wanted to roleplay - they may just make roleplay account. And like?.. Like fictives can't be into various roleplays and interacting more as original, because it's familiar for them, and safe in a way? We litterally have singlets in roleplaying community who are like "i actually always play characters that are litterally me because i can't really play as very different person", why fictives can't be like that too, and enjoy it? Just because some fictives don't, and now this is a standart for all?.. Roleplaying is quite badass healthy coping mechanism that helps to improve empathy and understanding of others.

Communications only become harder for singlet if they try to pass as disordered system, and it... Doesn't pay off??? At all??? Like????? The fakeclaimer's paranoia litterally doesn't do any good for any system, only make systems feel worse and ruminating about how their trauma must not be enough, imagined, and alters are just imaginery... They're formed to help, and you litterally may hurt systems by saying shit about them being imaginary, just as you may hurt adhd/depressive person by saying that they're just lazy and need to get over them, without any help, and medication are just placebo.

And faking real, horrifying disorder symptoms, actually takes A LOT of research and acting talant and skill, i would actually APPLAUSE to person who would play disordered system good and dedicate hard work to it. I would love to see actors and authors who are interested in research and can play various system characters, and conciously remember how memory in systems works, and don't get lost in it, and use meta-knowlegde for alters who don't have it. It may be easier to lose track when system live in one body, esp masking as singlet.

Solid take.

Really, the whole hysteria around fakers is largely overblown. The idea of mass amounts of fakers have always been a scapegoat used by ableist doctors to dismiss people with DID, but numbers have never supported this, and much of what people claim are signs of faking are just normal human variation.

[devourable]

I have a few questions about Abraham.

1. What genre of music does he listen to?

2. Does he like to read?

3. What's his favourite food?

4. Is he in uni/collage? If so what is he studying? If not what is he doing?

5. Would he ever be okay and not feel the need to victimise himself so that he can receive affection?

6. And lastly what are his general thoughts around marriage, before and/or after meeting his darling.

Sorry these were some thoughts that were stuck in my head. I hope they are okay.

1. mostly gospel and choir stuff lmfao. he mostly listens to church radio! but i feel like when introduced to other genres he'd be partial to shit like twentyone pilots lmfao

2. he loves to read! it's one of his few escapes from his religion (though he'd never ever express that lmfao). he mostly only has access to what he's been given but he's slowly branching out. he likes fantasy and science fiction!

3. his darling i think he'd get super hooked on food that has a lot of spices, like cajun food or maybe indian/SEA food? boy has NOT known flavor for most of his life 😭 i think he'd like a good curry or gumbo but it's smth he'd only be able to have like once a month else he'd get overwhelmed

4. iii am not too sure tbh? i think he'd be piled with the expectation of working for his church the moment he's done w high school so he's not totally sure what he wants in life. if darling goes to a nearby college then he'd probably look into attending though!

5. maybe in the future, esp if he has a darling who actively wants to help him get over that; he's been essentially brainwashed into thinking any form of enjoyment outside of partaking in his religion is bad so he sort of has to compartmentalize those feelings as "if the feelings are being pushed onto me rather than me seeking it out, i didn't do anything wrong". don't get me wrong, though! he absolutely loves affection no matter what he has to do to accept it. he doesn't care, at the end of the day he genuinely wants it and that's what matters.

6. before meeting his darling, he just saw it as another facet of his faith; something he knew was part of his future but nothing he particularly cared much for. after meeting his darling, though? it definitely became something to look forward to. the idea of his darling becoming his physically, legally, and spiritually? and vice versa? he can't think about it too much without getting overwhelmed but it's definitely something he fantasizes about.

these were fine! i like knowing ppl wanna learn ab my goobers 🫶

[nanowrimo]

How to Write Through Second Book Syndrome

Second Book Syndrome is a unique experience that can affect any writer. Today, author Uju Asika talks about what she learned while tackling Second Book Syndrome and gives advice on navigating it.  There’s something immensely powerful about completing your first book. For a brief moment, you feel invincible. After all, pretty much everyone you meet thinks they have a book in them, but not many people actually sit down to write it.

I wrote my first book, Bringing Up Race, in the midst of a global pandemic. Writing my next book, a picture book for younger readers, was a much less stressful experience. So it was actually with my third book, aimed at grownups again, that Second Book Syndrome kicked in.

You’ve probably heard of sophomore album syndrome (see Lauryn Hill, The Stone Roses) aka the sophomore slump that, apparently, can happen to anyone from athletes to second year college students.

Second Book Syndrome isn’t talked about as much and yet it affects almost every author on some level. Whether you’re a million-copy seller, a mid-list author or a relative newbie, you grapple with the same insecurities and nightmare scenarios. How do I write something as good as or better than my last book? If my first book did well, was it just a fluke? If my first book sold poorly, is this book my last shot? Will it meet my readers’ expectations or am I going to get troll-bombed on Goodreads? Am I establishing an author brand or have I niched myself into a corner? Can I experiment with voice or will I get laughed at by critics? Do I even have it in me to write a WHOLE OTHER BOOK?

Now that you’ve finished at least one book, you might feel like you’ve got this shit nailed. But the tricky thing about writing is that every time you open a blank page, you are starting from scratch. And every time you face a blank page, you are forced to meet yourself there, again and again. No matter whether you’re writing fiction or nonfiction. There’s no escaping yourself and that’s what makes it so hard, so vulnerable and potentially, so transformative.

My latest book, Raising Boys Who Do Better: A Hopeful Guide for a New Generation, came out last month. Foolishly, I had it in the back of my mind that writing this book would be a relative breeze. In some ways, it was harder. I had so much Resistance — the negative force that pushes back when you try to do something that matters, as Steve Pressfield talks about in The War of Art.

I also had to deal with the impostor syndrome (a close cousin of Second Book Syndrome) that whispered in my ear that I didn’t have another book in me. That I had used up all my smart ideas and pretty words. That I should stick to short form content and leave the real writing to the professionals.

So how did I get over this? What can you do when you’re in the throes of Second Book Syndrome and feeling like you’ll never write another sentence again? Here are a few things that helped me:

Make a Plan

If you identify as a ‘pantser’ rather than a ‘plotter’, you’re probably shaking your head at this. But it doesn’t have to be a full proposal or outline. Your plan can be as simple as a journal entry, a short mission statement, a sentence describing your premise, or a note to self about what you’d like your reader to learn, feel and experience. Making a plan and reviewing it from time to time can help keep your project alive when you’re suffering from self-doubt, comparisonitis and other symptoms of Second Book Syndrome.

Give Yourself Permission

The only way to release yourself from the pressure of writing your next book is to liberate yourself. Give yourself permission to write badly. I mean, really really badly. Permission to write something that sounds nothing like what you wrote before. Permission to play, to dream, to procrastinate. Permission to research until your head is bursting. For every project, I always keep a notebook so I can write by hand and make a mess and scribble pages of absolute drivel. I can spend hours writing around the edges of what I’m actually trying to explore. I encourage you to start every new project by writing yourself a permission slip. When you give yourself permission, the words might stick and splutter for a while but eventually, they flow. After that, the magic is in the edit.

Drown Out the Noise

We’re surrounded by noise all day, from social media traffic to our own mental chatter to those Amazon reviews (gulp). It’s hugely distracting and can be a drain on your creativity and confidence. Look for ways to drown this out, whether that’s through meditation, writing retreats, long nature walks or journalling. My simplest trick is to put on some noise-cancelling headphones and turn the music up. This might sound counterintuitive but listening to music puts me in a headspace for writing without any filters. Also, as a mother who writes around her family life (the kitchen table is my office), I’ve used headphones for years to signal that I’m at work and to keep the cacophony of my kids at bay.

Get Drunk

When you have another book to write, it’s easy to feel lost at the beginning. What to write and how to say it? When this happens, I immerse myself in storytelling. The poet Charles Baudelaire famously said one should ‘Always Be Drunk’ and it’s a quote that I live by. I don’t mean Hemingway-style binges, I mean being drunk on stories. I consume books, podcasts, films, TV shows, songs, art shows, conversations, eavesdropping, everyday life. I feed my habit and my habit feeds my writing.

Focus on What You Can Control

Creativity is mostly trial and error. Art is subjective and you can’t control how your work will be received by an audience or by critics. Often, success hinges on an indefinable mix of luck, talent, hard work, timing, money, network, reputation and… did I mention luck? Through all this, the only thing you can control is how you show up. I do my best to show up for my readers in a way that’s engaging, impactful and entertaining — both on the page and in real life. Other than that, the rest is not up to me. All I can do is keep showing up.

Track Changes

When you’re editing a piece of work, it can be helpful to track changes on a document. But this isn’t what I’m talking about here. What I mean is keeping track of the changes that happen because you had the courage to put your work into the world. I screenshot comments from readers on social media who tell me my books have changed the way they think about race and identity. I save a file of testimonials from parents who say I’ve shaped how they talk to their children about these tricky topics. I also keep notes on what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown while writing a book. All this is a reminder that so much of writing (and reading) isn’t just about the product or the story but about who we are becoming through the process.

Lean On Your People

Probably the most useful thing you can do as a writer is to find your people and lean on them. Obviously your closest friend/partner/family member who enjoys your writing or offers great advice can be invaluable. But as a writer, your people are other writers and it’s essential that you seek them out. Follow #writercommunity hashtags on social media, join a writers’ group or membership, befriend other newbie authors when your book comes out. You need to be in community with other writers who get it. Especially when Third Book Syndrome comes knocking…

NaNoWriMo Writers Board member Uju Asika is a multi-award nominated blogger, former journalist and TV screenwriter. She is the author of Bringing Up Race: How to Raise a Kind Child in a Prejudiced World and the picture book A World for Me and You (Where Everyone Is Welcome). Her new book Raising Boys Who Do Better: A Hopeful Guide for a New Generation came out on June 1. You can order the book for free worldwide delivery on Wordery: https://wordery.com/raising-boys-who-do-better-uju-asika-9780241608418

Uju is launching a creative writing service for developing and aspiring writers, learn more here!

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm honestly rather new to writing.

English isn't my first language but I've been pretty much teaching the language to myself through interacting with other English speakers and so on.

I feel like I'm missing a lot of words in my vocabulary that could lift a story up to a better level of reading.

And, probably my biggest problem, I don't know how and where to start writing. How to come up with a plot or how to find inspiration. I'm incredibly motivated but I feel like I don't know where to start.

Since I want to write horror, as it's probably the thing I read and watch the most, I bought a few English horror books to study the ways of writing, words and plot build up. I also started watching analog horror Videos on YouTube to improve my plots yet I often feel like my head is empty despite all those attempts at improving.

I know this is a lot and I'm really sorry for it, but is there any way I could genuinely try and get more into writing as well as to improve the things I mentioned above?

Want to Write But Head Feels Empty

I want to start by saying I never would have guessed English wasn't your first language if you hadn't told me. You have a better grasp on it than a lot of native speakers, so I don't think you have to worry a whole lot about your vocabulary. You're not further behind in that sense than most other new writers. You can check out my posts Improving Vocab and 10 Tips for Improving Your Grammar Vocab for help with that, though.

Since where you're really struggling is with coming up with ideas and plots, what I would recommend is starting with writing prompts. You can find writing prompts all over--on tumblr, various web sites and forums, and even in books. If you Google "horror writing prompts" a ton of options come up.

Writing prompts are a great way to ease yourself into writing when you're struggling to come up with ideas and prompts. Much like fan-fiction (which is another option I'll get to in a minute), writing prompts are almost like training wheels for writers. They let you do the actual writing without having to worry about the initial ideas. And prompts are super flexible... you can interpret them figuratively or literally, you can combine multiple prompts together, or use what you like from a few different prompts. Whatever works for you. The key is to just open your mind and let it carry you wherever it wants to. Don't stress about it being good or making sense. You're not worried about quality or form, just taking those ideas and forming them into *something*. (And, side note: there are also plot generators that will give you more than just a writing prompt, so that's worth trying, too.)

I do also want to address fan-fiction as being another great way to practice writing when plots and ideas escape you. Since you want to write horror, think of a favorite horror movie, TV show, book, or video game and write a story set in that world. Flesh out a scene or moment that you liked that didn't go far enough in canon. Give a character a different moment or ending. You can even create an original character and drop them into the story to see what happens. Once again, this allows you to focus on the actual writing without having to start from scratch with ideas.

I hope something here works for you! ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[olderthannetfic]

Re this ask, 722433031603879936 , specifically the part from below:

It literally makes no sense to me how people who will claim that "consuming disturbing/triggering erotic fiction is self harm!" Will almost never apply that logic to horror fiction (especially movies)

This isn't really what you were talking about, I know, but the ask made me think of it and got me on a mental tangent. I very much agree in broad strokes with this anon and the reply--this isn't any form of attack or disagreement, but an add on, and a slightly different, but related, comment.

I actually have used my consumption of media as a form of self harm, and know others who have likewise done with same. I never really did so with horror or erotica personally, but would seek on content I knew I found to be triggering (though at the time, I didn't know it was a trigger and hadn't even heard the term beyond 'trigger on a gun' and had no clue this was a form of self harm) and read it until I was, well, triggered. I can go on about why I did this (12-16 year old me wanted control, and reading the triggering content in fandom somehow did that, even if not in a healthy way) and how it was actually hard to stop, but wow did I ever seek it out. I looked for content with child sexual abuse, looked for characters who self harmed themselves, and looked for other content along those themes. I never really liked erotica, but did find the odd extreme underage smut and read it, but usually clicked out due to boredom. A lot of what I sought out and read in those years did hurt me, in a way. I dabbled in writing some as well. However, I always saw it as fiction and escapism, even when, in retrospect, I was actually hurting myself and using it as a weird form of self harm.

I do know this is different than anti's seeking out content (and not exactly what anon above meant, I think), and it VERY much had nothing to do with the media. At all. It was always on me for clicking on the links, which is where I think I, and those I've talked to who also have done this, differ from anti's. Even as that pretty messed up 12 year old I knew I was seeking this out, and I knew I was the one reading it. I didn't have the language for how it affected me, or why I looked for it so often even though it left me Not In A Good Place, but I did. And you know? It was still healthier than some other things I could have done, and was tempted to do. But wow my therapist has had fun with all this, poor woman.

Basically, there are definitly people who use media as a form of self harm. I never personally went to erotica for that, but knew people with similar experiences who absolutely did, and while I don't know anyone who used horror, I would assume at least a few exist. I still read and write some of that content, but in a much healthier way at 32 than I did as a teen. AO3 has been a godsend for that to be honest. I started on ff.net and it was always a bit of a trial to find (or not find) what I wanted.

Anti's are just jerks about it. I needed therapy and help as a teenager, but likewise was able to understand I was the one seeking out things that fucked with me, and that the authors had no blame. Hell, I commented a lot (generic -- loved this!!). It was never on them. I've reread some of those fics as a much better adjusted adult, and still appreciate them, even if in retrospect, they weren't the best fics lol.

A part of me can understand, or even pity, some of the anti's who seem to look for erotica they know makes them uncomfortable or worse. But overall I just think they need to sit down and shut up, and look inwards. There are a lot of complexities to the anti mindset sometimes. I'm sure some are fucked up kids who are trying to get control wherever they can and fell into an anti group, and will hopefully eventually grow the hell up. But too many anti's have chosen to be terrible to others, and for that? My understanding and pity runs out very quickly. I've been there, in a very different way, and even then knew better than to blame someone else for something that was hurting me, especially when I was the one looking for it.

This got long and rather rambly, but the ask brought it to mind!

--

Yeah, I think many of them are self-harming in a similar way. They're just in denial about who's holding the reins.

[mementoshay]

Hello. When I read the tragedy about Shay, I could not believe that this was someone else's problem. Because right now I want to be gone. And not only from fandom. I would like to talk to you if you would like. I feel as if I am the only one in the world right now. I have been a Radiohusk shipper for about two years now, posting pictures on Twitter and even interacting with some of them. It has been a fruitful environment and time for me. It was a peaceful time, as Doc said. I have OCD and often feel unstable. Radiohusk and my shipmates were the ones who calmed the waves until now. Since the publication of this edition, those waves have remained rough. My favorite ship is constantly denounced, and even my not-so-great drawings get cruel quote retweets. I hated drawing. Now I don't even pick up a brush. Also, a number of shippers who were my friends have already left the fandom. It is like an island in the sea. My OCD has been tormenting me for a long time, but what torments me the most is that the trend doesn't seem to end. Is there any safer space anywhere? I am despairing because I am sure there is no more. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a great time. I hope you will reply to me.

Hello, I'm very sorry for the big delay, but as we said, we all took a break for mental health reasons.

Before we continue, here's a list of hotlines that might be able to help you whenever you feel like there's no escape. Also feel free to reach out to us via DM at any time either here or via Twitter to let us know how you're doing.

Please do not neglect your mental health. Make sure to be followed by professionals and regularly express your thoughts and emotions with them so that you can be supported and advised properly.

This ask brings back strong memories because this theme is a recurring one, first with Shay, then with other people who came to us in private.

The bad news is, we have really no way of going back in time. But the good news is, painful as it can be, we can adjust and make the best of what comes our way going forward.

If these characters and their relationship are important to you, it's okay for you to not let go of them, but it's also important that you try to not connect them to your own pain. Fortunately, they're fictional: no matter what you or other people choose to do with them, nothing really changes, so you can really do whatever you please with them.

I think what seems to have worked for most of those we have spoken to is to form their own little "niche" of like-minded people. Value quality over quantity, so to speak. Find those who feel the same as you (and trust me, they exist), create your own little community, may it be on Twitter, Discord, etc. Draw together, write together, share ideas and build up from there.

What seems to have helped another member is to make their own iteration of some of the characters, with a mix-and-match of Ms. Medrano's old versions, which they liked better. Again, it's fiction, so the limit truly only is the sky.

However, please do not make Shay's mistake to try and find the solution to your personal struggles within internet communities. Reach out to your friends and family, talk to them. Find like-minded people to connect with.

And never forget how strong and resilient you can be! Thank you for your trust. I'm so sorry for the long wait. Hoping to hear from you soon. - Eden