#if I can’t put this on my effectively abandoned tumblr blog where can it go?

[arendelve]

literally such a good name as well. one soft, unhurried syllable. not overly cutesy or militaristic. it doesn’t really fit, that’s why it does.

[unicornachos]

personal post!

hey hi I’m alive sorry for abandoning my blog for like 1.5 yrs??? I had a bunch of health issues and mental health stuff too :’) 

Like very full on... god what HASN’T happened. 

My body had a weird reaction to the covid vaccines in 2021? I ended up in hospital etc and was sick with mystery fatigue and shit for months and months.... I think I went to hospital like 4-5 throughout 2021? My body seems fine with the MRNA boosters I’ve gotten so maybe something in my body just hated the astrazeneca vaccine?? I’m kinda bitter about it bc of the ambulance bills I had to pay, but still, thank god for vaccines amirite

then, the apartment I was living in and loved got bought by someone who then wanted to move in, so I had to leave the place I loved living to somewhere still nice but way more expenno, and my health issues kinda continued?

then I started a new job

then my mental health got REALLY bad over the 2021/2022 christmas period to the point where I had to call an ambulance for myself bc my mind was in such a bad place. 

Then I started taking SSRI’s for depression/anxiety, but I had this weird reaction to the drugs and we think I had serotonin syndrome because of its interaction with the asthma meds I’ve been taking all my life? But at the time no doctors would listen to me and basically gaslit me into thinking all the pain was just a physical manifestation of my anxiety. Anyway, it caused some of the most horrific pain i’ve ever experienced in my life, in particular nerve and muscle pain in my legs, and I had to shower sitting down for weeks, couldn’t walk much around the house, and needed super strong meds to knock me out so I could sleep. 

I slowly healed and could walk again and do normal stuff for me around... late April?

While I was recovering I stayed with my mum but still paying rent in Sydney bc all my shit was there, so in June I killed my lease, put most of my shit into storage with a friend’s parent’s mini warehouse they use for their business (absolute legends and wholesome humans and I sent them money every month lol) and moved back home.

I started studying a certificate level course I’d been wanting to get over and done with for ages, so at the end of June I started studying.

Then once again mental health got bad, I tried SSRIs again, thinking it was me who was the problem last time I took them. BUT ACTUALLY, NO. Same physical reaction to the meds as last time, if not worse. It wasn’t my brain making shit up, it was an actual fucking drug interaction issue that ppl had tried to tell me was my anxiety and/or imagination!!! Queue horrific pain, weird symptoms, and once again the inability to walk or clean or work from anywhere but the couch.

Dr and I decided any meds that effect my serotonin levels are a no-go probably forever, and so I’ve been looking into CBD oil over the past few months to see if that will work for things instead.

Now I’m about... 2 months from that reaction, and started CBD oil 2 weeks ago (no reaction, side effects, or really anything yet) and can work at my desk as long as I have a big ass XL foot rest under my legs to keep them propped up, because I get nerve pain if I sit normally :’) I still can’t really go anywhere or walk anywhere other than around the house and for super short periods of time.

Also I powered through and finished my course just last week, so that’s out of the way at least! 

Other than that, I’ve just been like. Sleeping, reading, watching shows, napping, sleeping more, trying to eat well.... my job is a bitch but I’m trying rly hard to skill up so I can do more of what I’m interested in! I kind of don’t have energy for much else at the moment??

I have no idea if I’ll post again as regularly as I did a few years back, but I love Tumblr and I always feel glad coming back here and spending time in this place for a bit. These days I mainly only post stuff on my locked private twitter lol. But I have always preferred Tumblr’s longer format and vibes hehe.

ANyway that’s all for now! I hope anyone reading this has been doing ok. These past few years have been fucking tough and if all you have energy for is working and sleeping... you’re valid, dude. 

And if you plan to take SSRIs for your mental health, just be wary of serotonin syndrome!!!! Not enough ppl talk about it and a lot of doctors seem to have no idea it exists or also know little about it, but there are lots of cases of it in settings where ppl have been taking other meds and been given SSRIs! I’m not saying don’t take meds if you need them, but just reaaaallllyyy do your research first if you can about adverse reactions and interactions :’)

[bjy-on-ao3]

Kinktober 2021, Day 6

As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

This is my first ever Genshin Impact fic (prompt or not), so I was excited and nervous! I haven’t played a ton lately, but I’ve had several of the handsome husbandos from it on my mind off and on, planned for this series!

Summary Some nights aren’t about seeing who can give who the best orgasm or quick romps between the sheets. Some nights are just for showing your lover how much you enjoy them.

Tags/Warnings Begging, Cock Worship, Kinktober, Kinktober 2021, Oneshot, Oral Sex, Praise, Prompt, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut

Kinktober 2021, 06: Cock Worship (Reader x Diluc Ragnvindr | Genshin Impact)

You slid to your knees at the end of the bed, settling between Diluc’s legs carefully. You cast a slow look up through half-lidded eyes, peeking almost shy at him from your place. The demure demeanor, though, was shattered by the growing look of longing, piercing even through the affection plain upon your face.

Lifting your hands from your sides, you placed them gently on the tops of his thighs and dragged them lightly to his knees. The fabric of his pants was soft and cool against your fingertips, and you resisted the urge to grab him more firmly. Shifting one hand back up, you moved inward, onto Diluc’s thigh, and let it linger there, feeling the heat of his skin radiating through the cloth.

Diluc’s attention on you had been rapt even before you had knelt before him, and remained so. His pupils were blown round and wide already, obscuring much of the color of his eyes. A pleasant, light rosy tint spread across his cheeks, subtle enough you might have missed it at first glance. Leaning back on his palms for support, he was at ease, a bare smile turning his lips up as he dared not tear his eyes from you.

His gaze flitted over you, following the wandering path of your hands, particularly the one that had sunk down his thigh. The ardent expression on your face had only bloomed greater the closer you came to touching him more intimately, and the sight by itself set him aflame in a way very much the same. Though the look in your eyes told him you were waiting for something.

“Is there something you want?” he asked, almost innocently, the curve of his small smile growing wider.

You moved your hand closer to the rising tent in his pants, giving his knee a brief squeeze beneath your other palm. “I want you, of course,” you tried at first, ensuring your eyes stayed glued to his while you spoke. “I want your cock. Please, won’t you let me touch you? Let me show you how much I love it,” you plead in a hush. Your eyes broke away finally to eye the bulge in his trousers and lick your lips subtly.

Diluc shifted his weight off one hand, moving it to touch your cheek, brushing his thumb tenderly over your skin. He grabbed your chin gently, lifting your eyes back to his. “What was that?” he asked as if he hadn’t clearly caught every word.

“Please, I need your cock,” you whined. “I miss the feel of it, the taste of it, all of it .”

His smile grew a little more, the barest sliver of teeth peeking out from his lips with a soft, pleased chuckle. He stroked your cheek again, feigning thought for a moment. You waited with bated breath for his answer, his permission.

“Well then, if you insist so much. Go on,” he granted you, pulling his hand from your face.

He sat up straight, his attention shifting to undoing his belt and pants to pull them down. His underwear came swiftly after, freeing his half-erect cock. You wet your lips again, more hungrily than before. You inhaled lightly, Diluc’s natural scent hitting you hard and making your desire surge wildly. You nearly dove forward, but held onto your control, reaching out and ghosting your fingers over his waiting cock.

You teased his length for a tine, not abandoning the featherlight touch as your fingers rolled over his skin. The hand resting on his knee joined its twin, adding the same gentle touch to his balls and teasing his still covered thighs. Above you, Diluc’s breathing caught sharply, coming out in an appreciative sigh, despite how soft your touch remained.

You closed your fingers more securely around his erection, near the head of him. You encircled it with the lop of your fingers and thumb, rubbing and twisting your hand gently. To match the hand on his cock, the other abandoned his thighs completely, cupping his balls and massaging them slowly. Diluc’s breath hitched again, stalling in his throat until broke free in a soft, deep hum that made you squeeze your thighs together.

“You feel so soft, so hot, so perfect ,” you purred among your attentions, moving to stroke up and down his shaft lazily. “Every bit of you,” you added, giving his cock a quick squeeze. His hips flinched, and you couldn’t help by match the grin he had worn earlier.

You worked his balls more thoroughly, rolling them carefully between your fingers in time with the languid caress of your hand. When a groan tore from Diluc’s lips, and a fat bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip, you lessened your pace. Diluc needed to understand just how much you enjoyed him, even just touching him, and that meant not rushing things.

“I’ll never get enough,” you breathed, affection lingering in your tone and bleeding into the husky tone of lust.

The sound of your voice, your praise, was just as much of a rush as your fingers wrapped around him, and Diluc drew in a deep breath to reign in his own control. His eyes, already growing hazy as he relished the pleasure of your words and touch, never left you. He doubted he could have torn them from you even if he had wanted to.

He melted back again, once more resting on his palms flat on the sheets, view remaining uninterrupted. His hips twitched into your grasp again, and his cock along with them, and a bit more pre-cum dribbled from his head.

“More,” he groaned, and you weren’t sure if he was requesting more praise or a more thorough touch.

Suppressing a shudder of delight, you drew a shaking breath, steeling yourself to focus on him and only him. You were more than glad to indulge him, in both aspects. A dull throbbing had taken fierce hold between your thighs, but you resolved to ignore it for Diluc’s sake.

Without abandoning the attention you had already lavished on his cock, you tipped your head down. You shifted the stroke of your hand further down, the rhythm shortening and leaving room for you to work. Your mouth opened, and your tongue lolled out before you his weeping head a single, slow lick. Relishing the salty taste of his skin and the bitterness of his pre-cum, you had to restrain yourself yet again, giving only another short, languid lick to satisfy your yearning for the rest of his cock.

Your eyes closed blissfully, and it was your turn to hum in satisfaction, savoring the taste of him. “Mm, you taste even better than I remember,” you told him, eliciting another reflexive half-buck of his hips.

You feel into a comfortable silence, not daring to allow yourself more than delicate little licks as you continued to massage and stroke him, fearful of your control shattering. At times you pulled away, caressing the full length of him and then moving back. Now and then, you adjusted your hand to firmly grip the base of his cock, nuzzling it and smearing cheeks with saliva and pre-cum with a satisfied hum.

“You drive me crazy, Diluc,” you murmured before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock more fully, only to pull away again.

Diluc’s breathing above you sounded half-ragged, broken by groans and even a whisper of something you couldn’t quite make out here and there. Glancing up as you pulled your mouth from him again, you noticed he, too, was resisting the urge to give in completely. His eyes were hooded and unfocused as if he was torn between wanting to let them fall closed in pleasure and watching you worship him so reverently.

“I just can’t help myself. I need more of your cock,” you insisted, and a pleasant chill raced down Diluc’s spine.

You secured your fingers around the base of his length again, the sure stroke of your hand on his balls slowing to an absentminded kneading. Letting your mouth drop open wide, you moved forward, taking the head of him into your mouth completely. You groaned around the hot, heavy weight of him on your tongue, slowly taking in more. The vibrations only complemented the wet heat of your mouth enveloping him, and Diluc struggled the most fiercely so far not to roll his hips and sheath himself inside more quickly.

You might have laughed if you weren’t so engaged in the task at hand. You surely still relished in the delight Diluc was swept up in as you eased him further into your mouth. Inch by inch, his breath hitching again as you went. At last, your lips met your fingers, his cock taken in completely. You moaned again, and Diluc matched the muffled, lewd sound. Another dribble of pre-cum dripped onto the back of your tongue, and you swallowed around him reflexively.

You stay that way for some time, wriggling your tongue slowly against the underside of his cock, drinking in any more pre-cum he had to offer until you needed to pull away. You repeated the action several times, still in no rush, each repetition have a more intense effect on Diluc.

One gloved hand buried itself in your hair and finally dragged you away from his cock, his breathing tattered, his chest heaving. You looked up happily from where Diluc held you steady, the touch of your fingers lessening until they return the light touch from the beginning. The sight of him on the edge of his control was maddeningly arousing, but if he wanted, you would carry on demonstrating just how much you craved his cock, your own needs be damned.

“I-That’s enough,” he said, speech breaking for a moment as he tried to put back together the scattered pieces of his coherency.

“Are you sure? I could taste and touch and kiss you all night and never get tired of it,” you assured him, letting your eyes flicker from the throbbing length of him to his crimson eyes.

The soft, pleased smile from before returned to Diluc’s lips, the even deeper flush of red staining his cheeks a ravishing accent to the expression. “Later,” he decided, leaning forwarding and reaching with both hands to grab you around the waist,

He pulled you up from your knees, standing smoothly, long enough to spin you around and push you back down onto the bed. You lay sprawled out where he had left you, watching as he exchanged places with you and knelt at the foot of the bed.

“For now, let me show you how I feel. What I want now.”

[yeonchi]

The Ethics of Reposting Fanart

Some time ago, I became aware of a Twitter thread written at the start of 2021, with activity on the thread still being active even to this day, and I wanted to talk about it because I feel that it pertains to various people and communities on Facebook and Tumblr (even myself) who actively repost art.

Basically, the thread talks about how reposts of Japanese fanarts mean that they lose control of where they end up and how legal issues can be caused because of it, therefore other people should not be reposting Japanese fanarts. I’m just going to be straight up here and say that I disagree with this on two fronts, namely that of the copyright holders (typically Japanese corporations) and the nature of the internet itself. I would assume that this applies to Western fanarts as well, except that corporations don’t play into the argument as much because the West has the doctrine of fair use.

It goes without saying that Japanese copyright laws go against the Western doctrine of fair use (just look at Toei), but that’s a problem that should be blamed entirely on the system, particularly because of the second front, namely being the nature of the internet. It’s not our fault that those laws exist and it certainly isn’t yours. Even if a company suddenly decides to ban their fans from drawing fanarts of something (such cases are quite rare if I’m correct), you can’t exactly expect every person to follow suit or file legal proceedings on people who don’t without looking like a real-life Happy Merchant meme.

Even with all the people who have interacted with the thread, the nature of the internet, with its propensity for diversity and anonymity, it’s too late to do anything about reposts now and anything they do will have very little effect, if any. Art aggregators and booru sites are examples of this, not to mention the ignorant masses reposting fanarts who might feel offended when they see tweet threads like the one I’m talking about. In fact, that’s the whole reason why I’m making this post; to try and put things in perspective between the Japanese artist white-knights and the ignorant masses.

Also, on a personal note, people like me started their social media “careers” by doing things such as reposting art. Part of the reason why I do what I do today is because over a decade ago, when I was new to social media, I wanted to be like the admins posting on pages dedicated to anime, so I decided to make my own pages. Although I’m not that good at socialising on the internet and my tastes in anime have stagnated particularly because I decided to stop following new animes a few years later, I managed to garner about 4,000 fans on pages that I own, with an extra reach of about 50,000 fans on pages that I admin. Now I also post original content and blog posts on my Facebook page and this Tumblr blog and despite my best efforts at promoting them, I have only amassed under 800 followers. What the Twitter OP is essentially asking of me is that I abandon 99% of my fanbase because they are triggered over people’s actions on the internet that they cannot control without essentially becoming a dictator, and I cannot, in good conscience, do that.

Frankly, artists in general should be grateful that their works are getting exposure because (usually) they’re not allowed to make money off of their fanarts. And yes, I know how original sources can get lost in reposts, particularly if some people decide to be dicks and crop the fanart, but if people know how to use actual reverse image search sites like SauceNAO (who also have browser extensions for Chrome and Firefox), they can easily find the source in most cases (that is if they don’t encounter dicks who crop fanarts).

In summary, the system is the problem and these people do not have the clout to make a significant difference to the issue of reposting fanarts. Even though what I’m saying in this is going to be controversial, I’m just going to continue doing what I’ve always been doing with the following compromises that I’ve also picked up over time; I will respect people’s wishes if they don’t want their art reposted (even though it’s essentially an unspoken rule, most artists of the fanarts I repost don’t state this on their pages) and I will make sure that source links are included on my reposts (at least on the K-On page and the Waifu Network Tumblr because it was a recommendation on the former and I began adopting it on the latter because I thought it was fair to include sources), though I can’t guarantee this for every post I make because despite my best efforts at finding the sources on SauceNAO, there are times when links will become broken, in my opinion because artists don’t feel proud of the work they have done and they want to bury it, not knowing that it’s probably already on booru sites or social media reposts.

[sarenhale]

Honestly, relating to your WoW/FFXIV post, I wonder if the 'great community, by the way' thing only has become what it has because the influx of WoW players? I hope it stops because acting like everyone in XIV is a perfect saint is only going to upset people even more if someone is even slightly less positive in game. I don't know I hope the whole WoW vs FFXIV stuff dies down, even Yoshi-P had to basically say 'shut up, WoW is what we want XIV to be, and we'll never even touch the heights WotLK had.' I just think if Blizzard hadn't been ousted as a bunch of sexual abusers it wouldn't be this extreme, like trashing WoW is kind of 'slacktivism' in a way. Sorry this is so long you're just the only person I've followed that did the WoW -> XIV jump and you haven't really done the extreme 180 everyone else has, and I think you have good opinions on things. Also I hope you have a good day :)

Thanks for the kind words! I'm flattered to hear that you like my opinions and attitude. I do try my best to not be grating over things like games.

I will put a 'read more' because I do get into a bit in detail for this ask.

I personally do get a bit tired of the costant ffxiv and wow comparison and debate too. That's why I sometimes make fun of it in a light way, and make jokes or memes about it, but also keep to myself when debates come out and people start complaining or piling up discourse over discourse. I'm just glad to enjoy my game and see people enjoying it too, that's enough for me. I honestly don't have the patience or age to withstand game discourse anymore lmao.

I completely understand why people would want to switch games because of the recent Blizz horrifying actions, the fact that the game apparently hasn't been fun or well curated in a long time, or just for funsies and switching things up. I'm absolutely not complaining about the switch in games, if anything, I'm glad people are giving other games a chance. But I am a bit tired about the costant comparison, discourse, and millions of videos essays where people try to defend wow (as if you needed to defend a game you like... you can enjoy that game, period, and not create wars over it), or people making huge ffxiv against wow essays. Like I said some months ago, I studied the whole 'wow effect' for my thesis years ago for my Uni degree and I don't plan to go back at studying the phenomenon cause I just don't care about it anymore, to be honest.

I think sometimes people are just way too over protective of things they care about, like games, and when change occurs they react with panic and overprotection over something they can't control - people migrating over games, new influx of players, etc - instead of seeing the whole thing as something of a natural process all games and popular media are subject to. Like, imagine how bad things would be for every game or media if stuff NEVER changed. Especially for MMOS, that's a death sentence. And you don't want that for your favourite game. Even WOW suffering player loss might be a good thing in the end, it might force the companies to rethink their approach to games and community, since a lot of problems laid in there.

I played my fair share of WOW during my Uni years. I played for around 3 years or something, on and off with friends irl and online, and enjoyed my experience. Overall, I still have very good memories of fun and friendship in WOW, and it's a game I still like aesthetically a lot, along with its story and fantasy races. Hell, sometimes I think about how much I miss my WOW ocs, and drawing WOW related stuff.

But I don't think my relationship to WOW was as intense as some people's - I did transition from WOW to FFXIV, but I spent something like 2 years when I stopped playing WOW (I started in mists of pandaria, stopped around the beginning of battle for azeroth times) playing almost no videogames. So it wasn't like I switched from a game to the other immediately, I think mine was more of a timed and organic switch, I didn't start playing FFXIV until quarantine hit and I had nothing to do (and was feeling really bad and needed a distraction from the imminent doom), and I also got my new desktop computer knowing I could start playing a new game comfortably, and not on a toaster-like computer like I was doing during the WOW days. (computer shutting down due to overheating mid-raid, it was fun)

So maybe the fact that I didn't do the 180 turnaround switch like some other WOW players is what makes the difference in attitude and thinking. When I started playing FFXIV, I didn't have WOW fresh in my mind so I could do costant comparisons between the two games, or my affection towards WOW kinda like... influencing my taste, or opinion of the new game in any way.

WOW was a good memory but nothing more. I never forged a huge relationship with the game anyway, so it's probably what's different between me and other players that maybe (understandably) have more history with it. I engaged with it, liked it for a game I could spend some free time on, and then moved on when I got bored with it. That's kinda it. I understand that some people who have been playing for way more years than me might have a more affectionate memory or relationship with WOW, and that might be something that influences their reasoning sometimes. But it's also a bit of a common thing withing some communities like WOW- something that people could definitely abandon and move on, change attitude. Time and game change. There's no point in getting stuck in the past with the old WOW glory days, and that kind of sentiment- we're not getting back in time, and change should always be something to be embraced, especially in games and MMOS. Changing views, games and opinions is the base of not getting stuck in the same state of mind and I highly encourage people to do it.

As for the ‘critiquing WOW has become super extreme and almost like it’s a rule’... I mean... yeah? That’s the effect that often times ‘problematic’ things have on large crowds of people online. It’s to be expected, but it doesn’t come from nothing- a lot of bad things piled up in the game, the company, the community and their attitude- and it just so happened some things tipped the waters over and everything came out in a costant flow during the past year or so. But it doesn’t come from nothing- it’s just a result of people being genuinely critic of the game they engaged with, which is something good to do. 

So yeah, I appreciate the ask! I like hearing from people that follow other games too and may have experiences similar to mine, and I'm also grateful that you've been following me from so many years since I was playing WOW, to now.

That said... I would like to keep asks like these to a minimum. I enjoyed this ask because it gave me a point of inspiration to think about my journey from games, and the chance of talking about something I care about (and I would like to think I know something about too, degree and experience and all...), but I don't plan to respond to more comments or asks that might move towards a more 'discoursy' tone of this same "ffxiv and wow" topic. I do enjoy asks like these but you can't count on everyone making a good and civil argument when asking questions, so I do have to keep a firm hand on asks and topics sometimes, or people get rowdy and think my tumblr blog is the new reddit. It has already happened with some people coming to my askbox to complain about shit I genuinely couldn't care less about. That will just get your question deleted, go to reddit if you want to complain or fuel the flames. I'm just here to vibe.

[obsidian-aurora]

As I’m about to dive into the events of 227 in my fanfic, I thought now is a good moment to take some time to reflect on the past year.

Words:  1,086,764

Chapters:  131/?

Comments:  2206

Kudos:  4065

Bookmarks:  350

Hits:  161449

If you can believe it, I started writing this fic almost a year ago now.  I’ve written the equivalent of a novel a month this whole year! Nuts. I watched The Untamed for the first time over a year ago.  My soul was captured by the light that I saw in Xiao Zhan’s and Yibo’s eyes when they looked at each other. And I haven’t stopped believing in the power of love since then.

Sounds corny?  Yeah, kind of is.

It’s hard to imagine that when I started writing this fic, the Special Edition hadn’t come out yet.  There was only the official BTS on the Tencent channel to watch - as well as a pile of interviews and fanmeetings.  There were no secret Discord groups, I didn’t even have a Twitter account.  I had this old blog of mine on Tumblr and an old AO3 account that I dusted off to start writing some fanfiction again.

Did you know I’m a self-published author?  Oh yeah, for years I wrote nothing but my own novels.  You can check them out here at lillybirdsong.com

I thought to myself, I’ll just write a short fanfic over the course of December.  I’ll publish it in January and rid my system of this bug I’ve got and then move on.  Now, a year later and I still can’t stop writing about these boys.  What is it?  It’s all about love.  It’s about the belief that against all odds, whether it’s living in a society that doesn’t support LGBT individuals, whether it’s struggling with management companies that don’t support you in your own careers, against all odds Love Wins™.

Or does it?

I’m about to embark on writing the 227 part of the fanfiction and I thought it was really important for me to remind everyone that what I’m writing here is not a bible, it’s not a biography, it’s a piece of fiction that’s my own personal interpretation of what might have happened.  I’m saying this because it’s soul-crushing to imagine what might have taken place behind closed doors, the conversations that would have happened, the thoughts that would have spun out of control.

I mean, I just remember my own journey.  Some of which is documented right here on Tumblr.  I wrote one of my first artist blogs when I hit 50 chapters on Yizhan in early Feb.  I wrote a post when Xiao Zhan fans first started calling out AO3 for hosting inflammatory material. I wrote a post when I considered whether this fic should be abandoned. I wrote a post when Coronavirus brought me back home on a plane way earlier than expected.  I wrote a post in April when I completed 80 chapters, and at the end of May when I completed 100 chapters.

I’ve gone a bit dark on Tumblr since I moved to Twitter where there’s a lot more BJYX interaction going on, but Twitter is not a good place for a long post so I’m once again spilling my thoughts here on Tumblr.

Writing about 227

As I start to write about this, I’m going to pick and choose which rumours I will write into the story and which I’ll discard.  Because let’s get real - there are a lot of rumours out there, and no one except those people intimately involved will know the truth of the matter.  I do choose to believe some of the malicious rumours.  And so I will include some of them.

Don’t start a war in my comments section. I beg you.  I’ll just have to end up moderating my comments which I never wanted to do.

Disagreements within the fandom

I’ve noticed more and more “extreme” behaviour within the BJYX fandom.  I feel like ever since the “secret” BTS (which are mostly the same as what we saw in the official BTS just longer cuts) have whipped turtles up into a frenzy! And when someone has a different opinion or when someone likes to spout theories about what their small interactions might mean in the context of the bigger picture, that can cause harm.

So I’m saying right now - everyone’s entitled to their own points of view. No one knows the truth but the ones involved.

Don’t bring your disagreements to my fic.

Respect in public spaces

I have also stated this on Twitter but I want to put my 2 cents here as well.  I’ve also been uncomfortable lately with the amount of public discourse about body parts, about sex positions, really really intimate things. If you want to write fanfics or draw fanart to explore these interpretations, I say go for it! That’s appropriate because it’s within the realm of fantasy. But when it comes down to really speculating about what’s going on in the private lives of these two men we love so much, I personally would rather those conversations be relegated to private spaces - Discord, WhatsApp.  Not Twitter and Tumblr. So you’ll notice that I’ve unfollowed and even blocked some accounts recently that cross a line I’m not comfortable with.

When I do that, it’s not about you, it’s not a personal attack. That’s just me not being comfortable with the content that’s being created in the space it’s being distributed. If you want to chat with me about it, I’m very open to having that discussion in DM. I’ve been called a hypocrite for my views given that my story is an explicit one, but in my mind there’s a clear distinction between me publishing a story on AO3 and people discussing their real private lives in public spaces like Twitter.  That’s just my point of view and I mean no offence to those that feel the opposite.

As usual, I always have my finger on the trigger to take Yizhan down the moment it causes harm to the boys in question.

Other interesting things I’ve done lately:

I’ve been publishing some Fanart.  (See the pic at the end of this post as an example). Follow me on Twitter @ObsidianAurora to get the latest as I usually post things first there. I’ll try to remember to post things here as well.

I started a YouTube Channel. It’s called Queer Stories and it’s my space to talk about all things queer - video games, TV shows, and yeah sometimes even how harmful it can be to assume you know someone’s gender identity, whether they’re feminine or masculine, and that this has nothing to do with a person’s sexuality. This video I made in the context of BJYX/LSFY/ZSWW and Yizhan.

I opened a Patreon account since some people wanted to know how to support me. I have been jobless since our visual effects studio closed down in May and I’m starting up a new job again next week (finally!) but if you want to contribute for the work I’m doing this would be the way.

Be Kind.

I’ve rambled on for quite a bit now so let me end it here. Let me just say please be kind. Be kind to each other. Be kind to those who disagree with you. When you’re tempted to lash out, consider the other person’s point of view first.

Remember that what started this was love. Not hate. Don’t give in to the temptation to participate in fanwars. Remember the love.

Thanks for listening to my Ted Talk.

~Obsidian Aurora~

[books-and-or-wine]

First Post / The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett

Despite the name of this blog, I’ve started out 2021 by *attempting* to complete a dry January. Accordingly, my inaugural post will be simply “book” and no wine. Frankly, it is likely due to the lack of wine in my life that I had the sudden ambition to start a blog. It’s really the only explanation, as I am usually full of inspired ideas that amount to little or no action. While there is an excellent chance this endeavor will be abandoned when groundhogs across the globe emerge to see (or not see) their shadows, hopefully by the time February hits posting here is a habit that drunkenness does not deter me from (optimistic of me, I’m aware).

My goal is to post about all the books I read this year; this is mostly for my own enjoyment, and as a record of my year in books, but I do hope someone out there looking for a book recommendation might one day find some use in reading these reviews... did I mention I was an optimist? And yes, I know Goodreads exists, but Tumblr is prettier so here we are.

So, without further ado, the first book I present for 2021 is:

THE VANISHING HALF by BRIT BENNETT

**Spoilers ahead, read with caution***

The Premise:

Desiree and Stella Vignes are twins. Where Desiree is unabashed, Stella is reserved; where Stella possesses book-smarts and a desire to go to college, all Desiree wants is to get out of their tiny town of Mallard, Louisiana -- a town where the inhabitants are overwhelmingly fair-skinned African Americans (the Vignes twins included). Desiree believes she knows her twin, but Stella has secrets -- the biggest one being that she has passed for a white person before, and she intends to do it again. And when she does do it again, she doesn’t come back.

Jump to several years later and we are introduced to Desiree’s daughter, Jude. Jude’s skin is described as “blue-black.” She takes after her father’s darker tones and is made to feel less-than when Desiree, fleeing domestic abuse, brings young Jude back to her hometown of Mallard. It is only when Jude escapes Mallard herself that she meets Reese, a trans-man, and they are able to help one another see the beauty in themselves.

Finally we meet Kennedy, Stella’s blonde-haired and blue-eyed daughter. She is privileged, spoiled and an aspiring actor. She doesn’t know about her mother’s heritage, and consequently her own. But when Kennedy’s path crosses with Jude’s she is determined to discover the truth.

The Pros:

This story takes places over decades -- going back to the 1950′s and lurching forward well into the 1980′s. It is also divided into 4 parts, each part being told from the perspective of (or focusing on) one of the main characters. I found the jumps in time and focus to be an engaging and effective means of unravelling the narrative. It kept the story feeling fresh and allowed you to see how the various characters perceived themselves, as well as how they were perceived by others. 

My favorite character was hands-down Jude. The reader is introduced to her as a young child from Desiree’s perspective in part 1. By part 2, Jude has graduated high school and is moving away to college. We learn about the bullying she endured and the loneliness of her childhood in Mallard. Anyone who has ever been othered or starved for attention and love can immediately empathize with her experience. When she meets Reese, it is heart-breaking to read how utterly convinced she is that she is not attractive, that he could never want her, based on the years she had that message reinforced in her mind. Reading about Reese’s trans-experience, particularly in the 1970′s, also added another dynamic layer to their arc.

I loved how gentle Reese and Jude were with one another, and how their relationship and love grew in such a slow, organic way. It was wonderfully pure. The tenderness they found in one another filled my shriveled heat with joy -- that they, despite their challenging pasts, were able to find and support one another. 

The Cons:

While Jude was an entirely sympathetic character, I can’t say I felt the same about Stella. Admittedly, her decision to run-away and pass as a white person is the driving force behind the entire novel; however, I think the impact of that decision on the other characters was more interesting to read about than Stella herself. 

Stella comes across as selfish, fearful and weak.  When I was reading her part, it felt like something to get through rather than to enjoy. I just wanted to shake her! A particularly painful scene to read was when Kennedy, as a young child, calls the black girl she is playing with across the street the N-word -- a word the child doesn’t know the meaning of and has clearly learned from Stella. The two girls do not play together again.

It seemed like the author tried to give Stella some redemption towards the end of the novel, when she finally tells a now grown-up Kennedy the truth about her past. However, she only tells Kennedy the truth after Kennedy has literally been asking her about it for years and Stella has continuously denied everything. I guess you have to respect Stella for her commitment to the lie. Ultimately, however, Stella comes across as a sad person who is trapped in a cage of her own-making.

The Final Take-away: 

After the first 80 pages or so I could not put this book down. The characters were highly compelling (even the ones I didn’t like) and the issues explored felt important. As a cis-gender white woman, I also think it necessary to read books by authors from backgrounds different than mine -- this book certainly exposed me to the different lived experience of these characters, particularly with respect to racism, colourism and light-skinned privilege.  While a work of fiction, it is often through fiction that the deepest truths can be explored. I’m so grateful to Brit Bennet for writing this story and would have no hesitation in recommending it people looking to engage with these themes. In the end, the Vanishing Half is a truly human story about flawed people and the consequences their decisions have on those they love. 

[tessatechaitea]

Justice League Annual #1 (1987)

Martian Manhunter has five thousand different super powers compared with the one super power of the rest of the team (Black Canary's sonic scream. The other "super powers" are just technological accessory based).

If this comic book isn't about Martian Manhunter's addiction to Oreo cookies then what am I even doing with my life? The only reason I love Martian Manhunter is that he loves Oreo cookies and I view him as the father I never had. Whenever I had a problem growing up, I would think, "What advice would Martian Manhunter give me?" And that's why I was so fat in Junior High School because the answer was always "Eat more Oreos." I know Martian Manhunter's eventual addiction is to "Choco's" but fuck Choco's. Fuck them like every other off-brand Oreo cookie. They fucking suck. Speaking of things that suck, this dick isn't going to suck itself. Now picture me pointing at the comic book because I need to read it. That's how I begin reading all of my comic books. And I say it loudly so the neighbors will think, "Oh boy! That guy next door isn't a nerd at all! Total sex maniac!" The "Hunting the Manhunter" blurb on this cover reminds me that Millennium is coming up and I think I hated that? No, no. I'm sure I loved it! There are two things I couldn't get enough of in my teen years and comic books was the second one of them. Kord Industries has bought some property in the middle of Ultra-Nowhere, South America, and some of its employees have gone off to scout the location.

Wasn't that the episode with the shape-changing hottie who loves sucking the salt out of men? You know what I'm talking about. Also she was probably a male monster posing as a female monster. Proof of that theory is that every single episode of the first season of the original Star Trek could also have been the name of a gay bar.

Inside the abandoned research facility, the Kord employees encounter pretty much the same thing Kirk, Spock, and the other one encountered:

Vampire John Travolta! It's possible I'm misremembering the Star Trek episode.

While on monitor duty, Guy Gardner discovers that large groups of people on four different continents seem to be under the control of a single will and Batman asks Martian Manhunter, "Do you think this is League business?" What the fuck else would be, Bat-Turd?! A new Internet fad like planking or the Harlem Shuffle? I mean, it totally could be that except that the Internet doesn't really exist during this story. I mean if you want to be a pedant about it, I suppose the teenage Internet across college campuses. But nobody likes a pedant so just shut the fuck up and live in my reality while you're reading my stupid comic book review. Just take the fucking Red Pill and relax! Except don't do that because the idea of The Matrix Red Pill has been co-opted by the worst of humanity who think they're somehow the most logical and philosophical people on the planet when they're really just awful monsters rationalizing all of their mean desires.

How did people come away from reading this comic book hating Guy Gardner and not also despising Batman?

The Justice League splits up into teams of two to cover the mass hypnosis issues in Paris, Tokyo, Sydney, and Los Angeles. I'm not sure Batman knows how to balance teams because he sends Doctor Fate and Martian Manhunter together while leaving Mister Miracle with Blue Beetle. Here are my teams: Guy Gardner with Blue Beetle because Blue Beetle is effectively worthless and Guy Gardner has the most powerful weapon in the universe. Batman would go with Black Canary because her sonic scream is sort of like a bat's echo location. Martian Manhunter would go with Scott Free because they're both aliens. And Booster Gold would team up with Doctor Fate because their outfits match. Blue Beetle and Mister Miracle head to L.A. with some, um, problematic dialogue? I think?

This is an "anal sex/everybody in Hollywood is gay" joke, right?

With newer comic books, a scan of 620 pixels (basically the width of the main column of the blog (although I think the width changed when I added the Goodreads app. I should probably fix it so the 620 pixel pictures stop bleeding off into the right-hand frame (if you're reading this on Tumblr, just ignore it. Just ignore everything since Tumblr fucked up their code and now I can't even center pictures or get the captions to sit snugly right up underneath the scans))) was usually enough to read the dialogue clearly. But with these old comics on newsprint, they're fuzzier and the font seems much smaller. Sorry about that but I won't betray my artistic integrity by scanning less than the full panel! At least not in this case is my defense against the pedants who can easily find many examples of me doing exactly that. First Black Canary is treated like shit by Batman and now she teams up with Booster Gold who can't stop hitting on her until she reminds him she's a competent limb-breaker. This must be the kind of comics Comicsgaters wish we could return to! "Remember when women were treated as sexual objects and not one member of the Justice League was Black and constantly said, 'Booyah!'? What great times!" Black Canary and Booster Gold become John Travolta Vampire slaves almost immediately because Batman chose the improper team pairings. It's bad enough that Batman would fail at making proper pairings but it's extra bad when Batman is being written by a writer and the writer made that choice. I mean, how do you pass up the opportunity to team Booster Gold with Doctor Fate?! They would look so fucking good together! Batman and Guy Gardner (you know how you can tell Hal Jordan is the real Green Lantern? Because people will say "Green Lantern" when discussing him instead of "Hal Jordan") wind up in Tokyo where Doctor Light is all, "Hello, boys! I'm a vampire now!" Then she blinds the fuck out of them because Batman forgot to put on his Bat-sunglasses.

Batman steals this move from Doctor Light in the next regular issue.

Doctor Light kisses Batman and he's all, "Yeah, yeah. Okay. Okay. I get it. Being a vampire is pretty awesome. No wonder writers write vampire versions of me every other year or so."

I don't think the editors briefed Willingham on what Beetle's Bug can and can't do.

Beetle lands at Kord West and is immediately swamped by John Travolta Vampire's thralls. So he does the thing he does in nearly every comic book except the one where Maxwell Lord shoots him in the head: he runs away. But he doesn't run fast enough and winds up possessed aboard the Bug with Mister Miracle. The story hints that Miracle gets possessed just after the scene changes but he's Scott Free, the world's greatest escape artist! I would guess he'd be the one to save everybody else but judging from the cover, it's Martian Manhunter who keeps from getting possessed. In Australia, Doctor Fate wades into a group of infected people because he's a gigantic arrogant prick. He's all, "I'm a frickin' Lord of Order, assholes! I know a spell that can get to the root of this problem!" And then the Vampire John Travolta is all, "I'll kill Kent Nelson if you don't leave his body." And Doctor Fate is all, "Well, J'onn, I've gotta go! Nice hanging out with you! Ta ta!" Which leaves Martian Manhunter as the only person left on Earth who isn't infected (or at least the only person left who is in this story). I bet that's pretty lonely. But Martian Manhunter is used to being lonely. I wonder if he's capable of making his right hand into a female martian so he can fuck it? Martian Manhunter has no idea what he's dealing with so he puts on Doctor Fate's helmet to gain all of the other powers that he didn't already have without it. But only for a few seconds because Superman would never be able to get an erection again if he found out Martian Manhunter had all of his powers and could also do magic. J'onn wears the helmet just long enough to learn what Doctor Fate learned about the contagion: it's a sentient cell! It's smart cancer! And I guess Vampire John Travolta was Patient Zero. Now J'onn just has to figure out how to fight Smart Cancer. I don't even know how he'll defeat it because I just looked up Smart Cancer in the Who's Who to read about its weaknesses and wouldn't you know it? There's no entry for Smart Cancer! Maybe it was in an update that I don't own. Like that version of Who's Who that was just loose pages to stick in a binder! I have that one too but it's possible I just didn't buy all of the expansion packs. Martian Manhunter heads to the source of the contagion to meet Smart Cancer head on. What he finds is a boss from Castlevania.

When you have thousands of people at your disposal, is the most effective way to use them shoving them together into one giant person?

The first thing Smart Cancer's Granfaloon does is try to smash J'onn with its people fist. In effect, it's smashing a dozen people head first into the ground so that dirt sprays up all over the place. So I guess a dozen or so people are now dead, right? It's not like Smart Cancer gave them invulnerability to massive head wounds.

I think this panel is the one where all the Justice League editors through their hands up in resignation and sighed, "I guess the Justice League is ridiculous now."

Martian Manhunter realizes, like me, how fucking stupid Smart Cancer is to put all of its people in one gigantic people-shaped basket. Since all the minds are linked, he realizes he can throw the Fate helmet on one of the people and Doctor Fate can possess Smart Cancer. It works but only for a limited amount of time. Doctor Fate can't hold that many people under his sway. But Doctor Fate does know who can control Smart Cancer: the martian! He can shapeshift his cells into some kind of prison or something. I don't know. It was explained in the most basic medical and scientific terms but they were still beyond my attention span. In the end, Martian Manhunter contained the Smart Cancer in him and that's where it lives now? Oh, and speaking of "the end," check out this clever and titillating final panel:

"Why's it gotta be the ass of the only woman on the team?" I say while pulling my pants down.

Justice League Annual #1 Rating: What?! I don't rate annuals! I mean, maybe sometimes I rate annuals. This one was okay. It was sort of interesting but I was disappointed that Vampire John Travolta wasn't the actual enemy. I hope Smart Cancer fights its way out of J'onn and makes another appearance later.

[morganeuk]

The Doctor & the Librarian. (Sherlock AU)

Part 4: Want to meet?

(Read Part 3: The British Government interferes on Tumblr)

(Read Part 2: Brainy is the new sexy on Tumblr)

(Read Part 1: Kissing is not required on Tumblr)

Summary: After talking online with a flirty doctor from London, Sherlock - librarian at Oxford University - can't stop thinking about him! It won't do! Fortunately, Lestrade asked his help on a case. But poor Sherlock can't work with Anderson... don't worry, he knows the perfect substitute!

In his brother's private sedan, Sherlock remained silent for the hour-long drive back to London. His brother, content that he was back to a somewhat 'normal' version of himself whatever the reason, respected the privacy of his thoughts. He was overall satisfied with his younger brother's relationship with DI Lestrade. The NSY officer was now asking for Sherlock's assistance on a more regular basis, forcing the librarian to skip work on occasion.  Of course, as Mycroft was a schoolmate with the dean of the university, Sherlock's job would never be in jeopardy as long as he wanted it. The older Holmes' end goal was of course that Sherlock ceases playing at being a librarian! The thing with Doctor Watson may also become a positive influence in his life, possibly even bring him back to a more active role against our enemies...  

Once in front of Lauriston Garden, the crime scene where Lestrade is expecting him, Sherlock leaps out of Mycroft's car as soon as he can. Even though he wasn't expecting any thanks from his younger brother, the government man was irritated by his sibling's attitude. But, as usual, he brushed it off and instructs his chauffeur to continue to his club and let the DI deal with him.

A vast police perimeter was surrounding a disaffected building. Once beautiful flats, the edifice was now abandoned and surrounded by junk.  Passing under the yellow tape, Lestrade's assistant Donovan spots him at once.  "What are you doing here, Freak? Shouldn't you been sorting books in a basement somewhere?" Sally Donovan despised Sherlock to a fault. His condescending attitude towards NSY and the fact that he was nearly always bloody right, was a personal affront to her.

The hostility was cut short by the arrival of Lestrade who motioned the young man to follow him inside. "Hi Sherlock, thanks for getting here so quick... How's village life?" The DI, still wanting to convince Sherlock to return to the city, was always teasing the detective about Oxford.

"It's as charming as always, Geof, how's your adoring wife?" the amateur detective replied with an innocent smile.  He knew perfectly well that Lestrade's wife was having affair after affair, despite Lestrade's wish to save their marriage. Sherlock knew he was treading on dangerous territory, but the teasing about Oxford and his 'desk job' was getting old so... Fair game. Lestrade, not mentioning that he effectively found his wife with one of her co-workers a few days before and that his bloody name is Greg, turns on his heel and strides toward the entrance of the building. "Who's on forensic?" Sherlock asks before moving a step further.

"... Anderson." The DI sighs heavily "Could you please just this once try to ignore his shortcomings and work together!"  He knows that Anderson and Holmes are far from being friends, but he had hoped... But it was too late, Sherlock was already on the defensive, not wanting to deal with the man.

"He won't work with me, and you know it!"

"Stop nagging him about everything and he will!" An exasperated Lestrade retorted, finally losing his temper.

"He's useless, I can't use any of the photographs he takes, not a single one of his ridiculous analyses... His 'work' is utter garbage!" Of course, Anderson chose that moment to walk out of the building and overheard everything.  The loathing between them was mutual and obvious to everyone around them.

It won't do... Sherlock sighs internally.

"Do as you want, but you'll have to deal with Anderson, I have no one else." and the DI went inside, leaving Holmes outside.

Argggg! GOD! This is a good one, a serial killer I'm certain of it... But Anderson... I can't do it... But I have no other option, I need a medical opinion... A flash of a blond doctor, not remotely annoying, and cleverer than most passes in front of his eyes. Taking out his phone, he texts without even thinking.

I'm in London. Want to meet? - SH

The reply comes quickly.

Sherlock? - JW

Know anyone else with this phone number? - SH

Sorry, stupid question. ;-) - JW

When? - JW

Now. 3 Lauriston Garden. Ask for Lestrade. - SH

Lauriston Garden? Is this a restaurant? Who's Lestrade? - JW

Sherlock? - JW

But it was too late, Sherlock was already inside, following the DI up a circular staircase. A bickering Anderson tried to block the way and slow them down, not wanting Sherlock anywhere his corpse. After a few long minutes, they were finally able to access the third floor where an apartment was highly illuminated by huge spotlights. Before entering the room, Lestrade slowly and carefully puts on a coverall and gloves before asking Sherlock to do the same.  With an exasperated look, the young man advanced towards the corpse, being careful to not touch anything.

"I can give you two minutes," Lestrade explains, knowing that bringing an amateur consultant on a crime scene can cause him problems.

Ignoring the DI, the young man murmurs dismissively "May need longer..."

"Her name’s Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards. We’re running them now for contact details. Hasn’t been here long. Some kids found her."

In the middle of the room, Sherlock's focus turns to the woman in pink. Everything in pink. What an awful gaudy shade of pink, Sherlock mused, followed by I wonder if John, Dr. Watson, is coming... Distracted by the idea of John being there with him, he can't restrain his instinct to snap at the policemen around him."Shut up!"

An offended Lestrade protested, "I didn’t say anything!"

"You were thinking. It’s annoying." Sherlock, closing himself to anything outside the body in front of him, stays silent for many minutes while Lestrade checked his watch anxiously.

From the bottom of the stairs, they heard Donovan below. "Boss! Someone here, he said he's looking for you! It's about the Freak!"

Sherlock's heart somersaults... John!

Less than half an hour before, John was relaxing in his flat. Drinking tea and eating biscuits Mrs. Hudson made earlier. He was trying to focus on his book but it was at no avail. Last night conversation with William, no Sherlock!, was still fresh in his mind.  Oh My God... I can't believe it... He was actually there, at the end of whatever connects computer together! He texted with me and let me flirt with him without evaporating in the night. Sherlock... More precisely Sherlock Holmes. An unusual name, for an unusual man... He discovers little on the Internet, but enough to convince him that the name was real. He was listed as a librarian in the university directory. There he is, in black and white, 'Sherlock Holmes, BChem MLIS' . He found two blogs under the name, one about data mining - the concept of being able to program a computer to actually read and analyze a text if he understands it correctly! - and one about the science of deduction.  That was different... but he reminds himself how quickly the librarian deduced he was an ICU doctor.  John was wondering what else the man would be able to find if they meet. Curiously, he was unable to find an image of him, there was nothing that could tell him what the man looked like.

As he puts down his mug, his phone chimes with an elegant group of violin notes. Taken by surprise, his mug misses the table and crashes to the floor. It was Sherlock's ringtone! Putting away the thought of how pathetic to have a special ringtone for a man you never meet... He opens his phone.

I'm in London. Want to meet? - SH

His positive reply was instantaneous as a brilliant YES crossed his mind! He took five minutes to brush his teeth and refresh is after-shave, changed his t-shirt for a nicer shirt and flew down the stairs to find a cab.  The less than 5 miles trip to Lauriston Garden (Where the hell am I going?) was done in record time as John offered a generous bonus to the cabbie. Less than 25 minutes after Sherlock's mysterious text, he was in front of... an old decrepit building with half a dozen police cars and yellow tape everywhere.  He walks up to a woman who was managing the scene, phone in hand. "Excuse me, officer, I'm looking for..." John reads the text again, "Lestrade?"

"Who are you? Why do you want to talk to the DI? Are you a bloody journalist? We have nothing to declare for now!" She turns her back to John and starts to talk on her phone.

"I am Doctor John Watson. This was the instruction that I received, to ask for Lestrade. Maybe it would help you if I told you that I am here to see Sherlock Holmes?" John was unsure of what was happening, but he was certain that he would fight for the chance to meet the man he has dreamed of for the last three days!

"Holmes? What do you want with the 'Freak'?" Donovan was now surveying John with a curious gaze. "Do you know him? Are you a... friend?" The mere idea of Holmes having a friend brings a laughing tone to Donovan's voice.

Without knowing the woman, the doctor instantly hates her with a passion. What's her problem?  He decided to omit the fact that he has never seen the man and simply reply "Yes, I am a friend and he texted me to join him here. If you are unable to help me, I can talk with your superior, DI Lestrade?." He used what he called his captain voice to snap the woman out of her sarcastic attitude.

Donovan, out of arguments and under the influence of John's commanding voice, lifted the yellow tape and leads Watson to the base of the stairs, then yells for Lestrade. She shows Watson the stairs and simply muttered "third floor," before leaving him alone.  

Looking at the flights of stairs, John screams inside. Of course, it's on the third floor.  His leg was doing better and he had left his walking stick at home, but fifty-ish steps... that was a challenge. Putting his hand on the rail, he starts the ascension that will bring him to, he hopes, Sherlock Holmes.

At Donovan's announcement, Sherlock, to Lestrade's astonishment, was having difficulty containing himself. He jumped up from the floor where he was nearly sprawled on, removed any lint on his already spotless coat, passed a nervous hand in his curly hair, and withdrew further in the room. Not knowing what to do... What's happening? Is this the man Mycroft mentioned? If so, this is going to be funny!  

John, now on the landing of the third floor, inhaled and exhaled profoundly, trying to relax and compose himself. He walks in the room and, seeing Lestrade first, he was impressed by the stature of the man, his silver fox look, his smart and cocky smile but... he was also disappointed.  The man, disregarding the protective kit he was wearing, didn't have the elegant and posh demeanour he imagined. He was a nice looking man and seemed friendly but John's gut didn't react at all. He was a regular bloke with whom he can go to the pub for a beer or two, but nothing more... no 'sparkles'. Kind of sad, his expectations were maybe too high, he extends his hand to the man. "Hi, I'm John Watson, nice to meet you...".

Lestrade politely takes John's hand before putting the poor man out of his misery. "Hi, John, nice to meet you, too.  I'm DI Greg Lestrade... You're here to meet Sherlock if I'm right?" and he turns towards Sherlock who had frozen in a corner of the room where the doctor can't see him. John, following Lestrade's gaze, understands his mistake and finds Sherlock's eyes that were gazing at him reverently. Hypnotized by the grey and blue eyes that were watching him, he registered unconsciously the tall elegant frame, the soft curly hair...

Oh God, I'm in deep trouble.

Read the rest of the story here! http://archiveofourown.org/series/770607

[mexamix]

Trigger Warning

Suicide, Guilt, Death, Toxic Relationship, Counseling, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, PTSD, Dissociation, Sexual Assualt.

1) I do need a professional counselor or therapist

2) This past weekend proved it - March of 2019

3) I will find one in my own time

4) This will not be coherent (most likely)

5) I don't need to talk here, needed to write.

6) I quit my job of over 5.5 years, on a whim, over this weekend, because even in my mental state I knew it wasn't good for me. But I hurt the people I was trying to not to

Tumblr has been and always will be a happy place for me - I understand that it's not for everyone, and it's the least furthest thing from perfect. But it's how I found who I feel to be the love of my life. It's where I can make new friends with a simple hello, and we don't have to talk every day, and that's okay. It's where I can express and explore every part of myself, and I can be safe. I can love myself as much as I want, explore mental health, become aware of different perspectives, and have my eyes opened to how the world and the people around me are hurting. It has the potential to be an incredible place for every walk of life.

And on this blog, the one that started it all, I feel safe to write posts like this.

I have had a happy life. Raised by wonderful people. Live in a quiet town that actually raised me to believe that I could do anything I put my mind to. I love to travel. When I have a job, any job, I give it my all. I am also ridiculously creative, in so many ways, you should hear the mental list of ideas I have. I finally found exercise I like. I love to cook. I have many wonderful friends from all different walks of life. Graduated college "on time." Loved by everyone, and if I'm not, please let me make it right. Don't be mad at me. Please don't hate me. Please don't leave me.

I have no control. It was too much.

I am always growing and learning - in fact, I am so "grown up," I recently friended everyone on Facebook at once! Old friends that I'm ecstatic are doing well, mended broken fences, I even forgave my parents! My mom of all people! Everything is great! I'm finally feeling like myself again!

Oh she wants to talk. Oh she's liking my pictures. She's commenting. Again and again and again and again and AGAIN FUCK WHY IS HER NAME EVERYWHERE.

My parents divorced when I was a kid. They were "high school sweethearts." Mom never showed up to the custody court hearing. And I've never asked my dad to tell me everything that happened from his perspective.

Because they left me

They abandoned me

They didn't want to raise me

She was never a real fucking mother and I had to see her every other damn weekend.

And the minute I didn't have to legally be in her presence, my dad started bringing over girlfriends that looked just like her.

Acted like her.

Felt like her.

Left the same bad taste in my mouth.

I don't want to be my mother.

I had a wonderful childhood...aced every test, took it semi-okay (not really) when I didn't get good a good grade in college, but still graduated with honors! I can live anywhere I want with my experience and degree!

Oh but my grandparents have a lot of health issues.

My boyfriend will move up here and leave everything...for me.

why do I have to leave? This safe little town, it has so many good memories, we can have a life here, I can buy a house, I can have the CLASSIC AMERICAN DREAM. I CAN WORK EVERY DAY OF THE WEEK WITH NO TIME FOR MYSELF OR LOVED ONES. I CAN FIX IT. NOTHING'S WRONG.

I love to travel and I want to see the world - financially I cannot.

I was raised by my grandparents. They are my true parents. They love and support me no matter what. I was raised in a loving household. With good Christian values. But everyone hated my beliefs in high school, part of who I am. And I thought traditional was best. Why don't you drink? Oh you can't be GAY that's WRONG aren't you a GOOD CHRISTIAN GIRL. Ewww you are way too clingy, back the fuck off, we're just friends, I don't *actually* like you. Why don't you let loose??? Have some fun! Be like us!

Why are you hanging out with that boy who said he likes you? Dude sure you had a wonderful first date, but do you know him?? He has NONE of the same interests as you! So what if he seems like a great guy!! Listen to us!!!!! WE KNOW BEST.

I wished I had just been friends with my "first" boyfriend. I wish we had never kissed. I wish I hadn't clung onto him because he was the first guy to supposedly not care how clingy he was.

I was sexually assaulted in high school. I had pushed my friends away, and I didn't know what to do. Or who to tell. No one else would like me, right?

I should've just been his friend.

My wonderful boyfriend and I recently had our five year anniversary - half of that was long distance. I live in a fairy tale!! He's got some giant surprise for me!! What's it going to be?? A trip? A proposal? A house? I get to meet every celebrity I follow????? All of the above?????

I am a highly sensitive person. I see details and patterns.

I work hard to have a good life.

I am not upper class, in fact if I lost my grandparents, I'd be "lower class" compared to society standards. But I like nice things, fancy things, shiny things, pretty things, let me spend all if my money because shopping is happy!!!! I have a job!!! I can buy whatever I want because I KNOW BEST and I HAVE MONEY and what's one more thing to add to the collection??? I'll always have money!!!

I have too much. I have no control. In "real life" I have no money if I lost everything.

Let me buy a house! Let's rent a house! I can DO it I can AFFORD it, it can be an INVESTMENT, I can't have all of the noise, I need pets, I need my own place I want it to be MINE I just need to GET OUT.

I had my first panic attack.

From my brain going into overdrive, and seeing details and patterns. Not trusting people. Couldn't sit still. But from feeling cared for. Then wondering if everyone around me knew something that I didn't. I get what I want right?? What do I want????? I can have EVERYTHING????? I can have FREEDOM??????????? What does everyone SEE that I'M MISSING???

the effects are just now starting to wear off I guess. I've been to two doctors. But I was delusional, thinking I was okay when I wasn't, hurting those around me, dissociating multiple times, screaming at my boyfriend, terrified to talk to the doctors, overly angry, absent, happy, manic.

ever since the first time I dissociated, I've felt like while there's more love and support every day, the country they I live in is no longer my home.

I became aware of how Dissociation felt the night of the 2016 election.

Watch what you say. Who you piss off. Nothing is safe. Safe places are childish. Act "normal." no DON'T try and have a relationship with that person STOP STOP STOP it's TOO MUCH you'll LOSE THEM you need to get out out out, somewhere safe, DON'T BE YOURSELF JUST GET OUT DAMMIT.

apartments are scary. loud men are scary. people not believing the minorites, are scary. this country is scary. not remembering things, it's incredibly scary.

not having any self-worth....is terrifying.

My first "boyfriend" committed suicide.

This was years ago. I thought I was over him. I was sad, because I knew he had a hard life too. I tried to be his friend when he messaged me, but I didn't know how. I was still a young adult. Inexperienced. What was I supposed to do??? I didn't read the signs!! I could've helped him if I'd just KNOWN. AND NOW HE'S GONE.

I needed to block his Facebook from myself, because it's still up. I'm reminded of all of the good times. How he only sexually assulted me, he didn't actually *rape* me, that's different, I was *lucky* that he didn't rape me in that house alone when the only person who knew where I was TRUSTED me!! I told them to go. It was fine.

I was lucky. I didn't know what a Toxic Relationship was.

and when I went to try and block his Facebook, I found his memorial page, made by good friends.

He was such a good person. Don't talk bad about the death. Just remember the *good* times. No bad times. It's so sweet! I should *contribute* something!!! Remember all of the GOOD times we had??????? There was never ANYTHING bad!

I had my first panic attack, I was sleep deprived, and the terrifying effects are just now wearing off.

I almost had another one just seeing that Facebook page and feeling like I should contribute.

I am lucky. But I have a past, just like everyone else. And no one needs to know everything. But I need professional help, and rest, and time to myself. But the thought of people leaving because of something I did, or how I acted...it never should've gotten to this point. But it did.

And while it doesn't excuse my actions, I hope it helps spread awareness of mental health and the effects of what high stress and anxiety can do to a person, as well as bring more awareness to the behaviors and mental conditions that can affect anyone, even when they can't just let the past go.

I am not a doctor. But I need to talk to a professional counselor, therapist, etc. No one deserves to deal with the effects of my mental state after what happened.

Please watch the YouTube channel Psych2go. It is accessible, free education about the different aspects of mental health, and the variables that go into it.

[doodleimprovement]

Antonia’s Fan Fiction Masterlist

~~~THE AO3 ADDITION~~~

All of the Fics I've written and posted on AO3 as of 1/12/2019

Undertale 

Tuffet Tales: (Abandoned Series) 

Home From Grillbyz (2015)

Sans gets Drunk, OC gets them home? Being drunk kind of sucks but it gets the weight off your chest 

 Afternoon Coffee (2015)

A thank you trip to a coffee shop backfires on Pap, but talking helps 

No Suplexing on the Premises (2015) 

Working out with Undyne is almost always a good time, but the aftermath is nice

GB Skelefrisk (Abandoned Series)

You’ll Be Fine, Babybones (2016)

A Requested Fic, Enjoy! 

We’re Here, and I’m So Sorry (2016)

It had been such a good day, but bad things happen when Gaster is bored in the void

Along Came A Spider (Complete Multi-Chapter Fic - 2016)

Tuffet the spider - having recently been kicked out of her home because Spider Tradition- just started living on her own, and takes in two seemingly lost shape shifting skeletons after she comes home to them crashing on her couch. She knows they're keeping secrets, and they know the same about her, but when you only have each other, some trust has to build, right? 

Along Came A Spider (Rewrite - In Progress - Multi Chapter - Updated 2019)

When 12 year old Tuffet is thrown out of her house due to some ridiculous Spider Tradition, she takes to living on her own without much fuss. But how will she handle her new, independent life when two shape shifters just kinda... take up her couch? She lets them in with open arms, but they seem hesitant. They're clearly hiding things, but living under one roof, some trust has to build... right?

Please, Don’t Forget (2016)

Revenge... it felt like such a good idea at the time... But now.... 

Returning (Home) (2019)

The aftermath of the neutral pacifist run.... Or is it? 

Coco

Watchful Eyes (2018)

or "I have to watch my ex husband be a good dad and it kind of gets under my metaphorical skin" 

One Good Try (2018)

Miguel is loosing sleep and gaining anxiety in the wake of his day in the land of the dead, with one question always at the edge of his thoughts

         "What if he didn't make it?"

          He had to find out. He had to try

Marvel

Nell and the Company She Keeps (Incomplete Series) 

Annabella Gracia Buonacci is a queer nurse living in Queens who gets embroiled in the cacophony of drama and ridiculousness that is the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

A series of One-shots, Ficlets and Regular ol' fics surrounding my shameless Self-insert OC in the MCU, starting around Homecoming and up to Avengers: Infinity War. Can and will be out of order.

All That’s Left (2018)

Thor is left to take stock of all that’s left of his people, his friends, his pride and his guilt.Nell is unfortunately a keen observer

Aftermath of Prayer (2018)

[...] in those final days in Wakanda, where she waiting with bated breath for the end of the world, she prayed. She practically begged whatever god existed to please, please, bring them back. Bring them all back. And well… it had been close enough.

Hard To Describe (2019)

Original title: "Nell's Super Weird Relationship With Tony Stark" Or "Nina writes an extremely self indulgent fanfic where Tony Stark befriends her and validates her life choices". I am expecting no one to read this, honestly.

The Dragon of the MCU (Incomplete Series)

A series of one shots, Plot Summaries and ficlets having to do with my OC Insert into the MCU.

Abandoned (2019)

Jose hadn’t known what to expect when two of the most important adults in his life were fighting in an abandoned Siberian bunker. He just knew the fighting had to stop. He didn’t want to take sides. He never meant to pick a side. But he did. When he quite literally turned his back on Captain America, that was seen as his choice. By the time he heard the clattering of the shield and turned his head, Steve was gone with his friend, and they were alone... Abandoned

Still Here (2019)

Jose is back from Asgard, but whether or not he's ready to engage with actually being a teenage on earth is another story... or "Tony has no idea how to parent but he'll give it a shot"

And You Got Us Feeling Alright (2019)

Jose didn't mean for his piano playing to become something so few people knew.. Didn't mean for it to become precious to him.. To become his outlet. But things just happen like that, sometimes

Just Another Wednesday (Complete Multi-Chapter Fic - 2018)

When a bizarre being wants Stephen's cloak, it decides to use Peter to get to him - what no one is expecting is for this cuckoo bird to do.... whatever the hell it is he did. Now Stephen has to both rescue Peter, and reverse a spell. . . What a wednesday

More Than a Little Secret (Incomplete - Multi Chapter - Updated 2019)

Howard did a lot more than shame Tony for not being as good as Captain America. In fact, he was so obsessed with the idea that he developed a (rather problematic) version of the super serum and injected Tony with it. Tony hates it. So he’s become almost perfect at hiding its effects… Almost being the key word there. Prompt taken from the excellent Tumblr Blog: @tonystarkismyprompt

Fracture (Incomplete - Multi Chapter - Updated 2019)

Just as things come together, they fall apart - that's just how Peter Parker's life has always been. The ever famous "Parker Luck". He didn't think fate would decide to test it like this ((Winter Solider Tony AU, Beta-Read by Tumblr User @littlescarletstar ))

So, That’s What it Looks Like (2018)

Nebula and Tony Stark are alone on Titan. Tony is trying to process the loss. Nebula is trying to understand why the last one had to go the way he did.

Asking For Help, If You Need It (2018)

Happy had told him that the number was life or death. To never call unless the situation was dire. He called

Making A Show Of It (2018)

All Peter wanted was proof of his internship to shut up some rumors at school. Tony Stark has ... plans

101.9 (2018)

A Prompt from Ironmanstan on Tumblr where they recommended that Tony would use Bucky's cool metal arm to chill himself from a fever.... WinterIron with a smattering of Irondad and Spiderson

Hey, You’re Fine Kid (2019)

A fight with the Rhino leaves Peter with a nasty scar he can't really stand, but maybe all he needed was a chat with everyone's favorite wizard

Only Just Realized (2019)

Stephen has made fast friends with everyone's favorite web-slinger. Maybe a little more than that..-- Mostly a stream of thought fic with Stephen realizing how much he cares about Peter

Detroit: Become Human

Like Mother, Like Son, In a Way (Incomplete Series)

Familial Visit...? (2018)

Hank is both intrigued and confused when Connor mentions that he has to visit his "Mother". The visit garners more questions than answers, however

Those Portuguese Curls (2018)

Hank gets to see those curls Genoviva mentioned

T r a u m a t i z e d (2018)

Hank knows that when a kid freaks out, the best person for him is his mother. . . That and maybe he can learn a little more.... He learns more than he could have wanted, honestly

Hubris (2018)

Genoviva thinks she can keep Connor safe... But it's her care that may be putting him in danger

Alternate Deviancy (2018)

Hank should have been there when Connor went Deviant.. so I wrote that

[eorzean-capitalist]

The more flowery a person’s speech … the more suspect the feelings, or lack of feelings, it concealed. --  Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary

There’s a lot to unpack from the fauxpology that appeared recently on a new blog from Oz.  I’ve seen this before... from multiple abusive people.  

So let’s dive in, shall we?

There are some things I need to address, some of which I need to apologise for. I want to be clear this is not me entering into a debate, this is not my version of events, this is an apology for where I have made mistakes and where I have at times hurt many people who ultimately did not deserve it, many of whom are my friends and loved ones. 

Some of which you need to apologize for? Some?

I have no intention of any kind to publicly address this any further. I do not think it would be of any benefit to anyone, particularly the people I have hurt, to escalate this more than it already has by arguing about any specific claim’s full context. If you wish to speak with me privately, I encourage you to reach out to me personally

Private, where you can continue to try to control the narrative.  Private, where you can attempt to keep gaslighting your victims.  Private, where no one else can see what you’re saying and go ‘Um, no, that’s not correct’.  

And whose benefit here are you really concerned about?  Because I can tell you right now, your victims would /love/ for you to publicly acknowledge the hurt you caused them.  It just wouldn’t be very fun for you to be open to the kind of scrutiny you’ve called to attention on other people for daring to go against your dictates and mandates.

Unfortunately, I have to be clear about what, exactly, I’m apologising for. In the noise and fury surrounding the last week or so, accusations have been made that are not simply bad interactions taken out of context or even objectionable but otherwise fairly mundane failures of decency, but utterly detestable and even illegal.

Jesus christ, put down the fucking thesaurus.  We get it.  You know big words.  Would you stop tap dancing around the point and actually get to it?  

Actually, I’ve read this run-on sentence several times and I really can’t make heads or tails of it.  What are you trying to say here, Oz?  Are you accusing your victims of making shit up?  Despite all the evidence that’s been posted?  Are you suggesting that somehow talking about the shit you’ve done is illegal?  Like really?

I do not say this to excuse anything I have actually done or anywhere I have actually been wrong, but so that I can apologise for where I have indeed done wrong without admitting to baseless claims of acts that are not just morally reprehensible but in some cases illegal.

“So I want to cherry pick what to apologize for.  The stuff that’s just kinda assholish I’ll admit to but everything else is illegal because I say so.”

I have never doxxed, stalked, sexually harassed, or threatened the the life of anyone

Um.  Sure, Jan.

Additionally, I have never sent anonymous hate messages through Tumblr or any other medium. I have never condoned any of those behaviours, encouraged them in others, nor have I ever made false claims of any of the prior acts.

Uh huh.  Have you forgotten we’ve all SEEN you do this shit?  You may not do anon tumblr hatred, but you do threaten people.  I’ve seen you go on complete tirades over and over again.  People have actually posted testimonials and screenshots of logs where you are threatening them.  Seriously, stop denying you do this shit. 

I have made many mistakes and, yes, I have made some very bad choices. While I am absolutely guilty of being unnecessarily aggressive, disdainful, and combative, I have not done any of those things. I am not going to speculate about the motivations of the people making these claims, but suffice it to say they are entirely false and the people making them have no reason to believe otherwise. There are things I have to own and apologise for, but these are not among them.

They just made some very bad choices, folks.  We should totes give them a break. 

I regret I must start an apology with a qualification like that, but given the nature of the more extreme and spurious claims some have made, I have no choice. It would be disingenuine and even irresponsible of me to extend a blanket apology and include deeply reprehensible acts I have never committed nor would I ever commit.

I think what they’re trying to say here is ‘I would do anything for love... but I won’t do that.’

Also, if you need four flowery paragraphs of highfalutin language to start off your ‘apology’, you’re doing it wrong.

What I will apologise for are the places where I have failed and while they are not as many as claimed, they are dire

Now we begin the minimizing stage.  They admit to doing some things, but not everything, and even those some things are very small really.  Just a few things.  Yes, dire things but JUST A FEW THINGS.

I allowed myself to listen to voices that lauded me for drawing hard and sometimes arbitrary lines with people, showing swift cruelty, and forgetting there is a very real difference between flawed people who have made mistakes or even just poor choices and people who set out to knowingly do harm for its own sake

“Guys, I made some bad choices.  I was lead astray by other nebulous people.  Clearly they were the ones to guide me into these dire, terrible actions.  I apologize for them dragging me kicking and screaming down this awful path.”

What’s worse is that these are lessons I learned long ago, but I allowed myself to be comfortable and even lazy. I did not hold myself to my own standards and through my unwillingness to examine my own behaviours, I hurt others.

I hope you pause to meditate on the fact that this is why people say your behavior has never changed.  

There are times I have shown anger or drawn a line around spaces under my control and done so justly There is a time and place for anger. Like any emotion in a healthy volume and the right context, it has a role to serve.

The problem is, you are addicted to your righteous anger.  You go from 0 to 60 in 0.005 seconds, and when you blast people, you refuse to listen to them when they try to reason with you.  I’ve read the logs.  I’ve seen you run in, scream at people and when they try to placate you, continue to berate them.  

Your first reaction to anyone challenging you or ‘threatening your territory’ is to go nuclear.  Full blast nuclear.  And you do. not. stop.  You will continue to post about them for months.  Vagueposts sniping at them.  And you don’t just do it yourself, you command  your people like they’re your little army to avoid the people you’ve decided are on your Naughty List on pain of becoming your next victim.

That’s on you.  It is all on you.  No one else is to blame for this, no matter how you may try to blame your ‘choices’ on mysterious others in your life.

In many cases, what I did was apply that anger too broadly and too eagerly. I was too willing to see the hurt in response to my actions as a proof of guilt from the people I refused to see the simple human dignity of. I allowed people who I felt wronged me or people dear to me to become less than people in my eyes, something reserved only for the most awful of people, not individuals who simply commit some passing faux pas in a bad circumstance or, indeed, do nothing beyond some relatively minor violation of the social contract.

On this, we can agree.  Would that you had said this rather than all the shit above.

After a period of suffering genuine manipulation, abuse, and gaslighting by a truly vile person, I allowed my feelings of abandonment and outrage at an injustice to stew and mutate into a broad and directionless anger. No matter what happened, my failure to properly gauge my emotions and find healthy, positive outlets for those feelings was not just unacceptable, but my fault. What’s worse is that I sought and found help. I knew what I had to do, and it took me too long to begin the process of healing, a process entirely within my control. While I refused to heal, I indulged in pain and the social rewards that come from it. Not just my own pain but the pain of others.

More blame shifting.  Remember, folks, while they did hurt people, they were the REAL victim here.  

The worst part of all of this is that among the choices I made, they were not choices I made out some misguided belief or, in most cases, not even out of misinformation. They are things I did in spite of my own beliefs. If you asked me on a good day, I would tell you I believe it is absolutely critical to reach out to people you feel have wronged you and while it’s important to protect the things and people vital to you, you should never allow yourself to succumb to a hateful, tribalistic, ingroup/outgroup attitude without fully appreciating the harm that does not just to other people, but to yourself.

On a good day, if you asked me, I would tell it is absolutely crucial to be no one’s attack dog and to avoid people who celebrate the harm you do to others. I would tell you it is easy to build the support of people who see you as a vector for the harm they want to see done to others. I would tell you it is not just easy, but a passive process to become a threat to other people and that is the very last thing you should want to be. When I say I was overly comfortable and lazy, that is exactly what I mean. 

You know what they’re doing here?  Trying to be subtle about it, but definite blame shifting going on here.  They are blaming other people for jumping on the bandwagon THEY created.  They got off on manipulating public opinion about people, and are now blaming the very people they manipulated into feeling that way.  

Nice try, but i c wat u did thar.

I failed to be the better version of myself I have been. I can say I never set out to harm people specifically because I wanted to or I because I enjoyed the idea of punishing others, which I didn’t, but the effects of my actions are the same as if I had. I invited and engaged in unnecessary conflict to no gain, I meted out judgement where harmful, and I did all of this with the reassurance I would be rewarded in ways I never should have sought.

“See, folks, I just wanted the approval of other people.  So I hurt you because I sought out that kind of approval and it’s their fault for making me want their approval.”

In every instance of wrongdoing, I was a hypocrite. In allowing myself to see people as their failings, something I absolutely know is wrong, I justified a level of hostility that is not just inappropriate, but destructive to myself, to those around me, and of course to those on the bad end of that hostility. For that, I apologise from the bottom of my heart.

Furthermore, I need to apologise for the influence I’ve had. Beyond my actions themselves, I have helped create a culture of cyclical anger, division, and anguish that has done real harm to our community. Not only have my actions reflected poorly on my friends, who I can assure you are not supporters of those actions, they have fed into a subculture on Balmung of a deeply hostile and hateful moral rectitude. I contributed to an environment where people looking to do harm can and can do so largely without consequence.

You know, if you had just said this, I might actually believe you were sorry.  Unfortunately, this is buried in so much bullshit it’s hard to take seriously.

I can complain about there being absolutely false and completely groundless claims made about me, but it is my fault there is an environment for those claims to come from. Obviously, there are other bad actors in our community, but I am the only person I have control over and I have to accept my share of the blame for the culture I helped create and I am sorry. In different moments, I have tried to contribute constructively to the space we share and in others I have actively torn it down.

Like other things, it’s something I know better than to do. As has been said both to criticise me and to defend me, I have an old and long-buried history of being a malignant presence in another community. I am proof that people can grow beyond their immaturity, but that one still has to be vigilant about not falling into their old habits. It is a lesson I know and chose to ignore for temporary comforts.

I am sorry for allowing a kind of zeal to take hold in me that let me ignore the difference between a sexual predator or their defenders and people who simply briefly upset someone in some minor way. At my best, I hold myself to a high standard of proof and responsibility, aware that taking action against someone is harming them. It’s doing something they may have to carry with them for a long time and if we take that action wrongly, then we’re hurting someone without reason. At my worst, something I have shown far too much of, I allowed myself to stoop to the lowest standard of a bully, the exact kind of person I so comfortably and openly resent.

The problem with this line of thinking is... you’ve only managed to do it AGAIN. How is that proof of growing or changing?  You can’t even bring yourself to apologize properly, how is anyone to believe that you’ve changed at all?

I am also deeply and truly sorry to the people around me. My friends, both in my free company and not, have shown me a patience and grace that I certainly failed to show others. I am not just glad but lucky to have people around me willing to tell me when I have done wrong and all I can ask is that you not judge them by my worst actions. They and the community we have built together are surely better than I am and I can think of no better testament to that fact than the guidance and tolerance they have shown me.

I can agree with this up to a point.  Obviously most people in your FC are not to blame for your actions.  Though you should probably consider the kind of atmosphere you’ve fostered in your own FC.  Considering the testimony of many ex-,members, you made it pretty awful for them while they were in there.  Be better.  

There’s not a deep, meaningful takeaway I have to offer from any of this. I’m not saying any of this from some place of wisdom other than that of someone recently reminded I am not beyond succumbing to the worst inclinations common to all people, inclinations many people manage to avoid succumbing to themselves.

All I have left to say is that I am sorry. I have before, can now, and will later do better. In turn, all I can ask is that you give me the grace do so.

“I’m only human, folks.  Please leave me alone so I don’t have to really, truly, face up to my actions.” 

[anundefinedwoman]

Shame, Shame Go Away!

I put a lot of thought the last couple of weeks before typing out what I have been writing for the last 10 months to this blog that I abandoned last Spring. My intention is going public and sharing this with my husband, some friends, and having it ‘out there’.   While I have been blogging here on Tumblr since 2017, nobody has known except my therapist, childhood friend, and maybe the 4 or 5 strangers that happened upon it at some point over the past couple years. 

I’ve tried blogging in the past. As soon as I do, I’ve been told to shut it down. While I  haven’t been forced, I have been censored on what I am allowed to say. There may be shame for past indiscretions, and he doesn’t  want those details to be known or come out and I get that. There are certain details I won’t speak about publicly.  But as soon as I am censored, it becomes my shame too as I was on the receiving end of it.  This is my story too. I’ve needed to be able to talk about it and what it has done to me for a while.  I have felt stifled. I’ve always felt stifled and controlled by someone. He wants to support me on the condition I don’t talk about him or say anything that sheds a bad light on him. It has to pass through his filter, is what I hear.  This has to be negotiated. I hope it’s just the ugly details he has an aversion to and he is ok allowing me to talk about some of the hurtful things said to me and the impact it’s had. 

I’ve kept so much buried inside. I have felt burdened by it.  But I don’t want to feel like that anymore. I don’t want to wear anyone else’s shame or madness on me. Wearing my own is heavy enough. I’ll never know who I am if I’m covered in everyone else’s.  And that’s the thing about shame, we give it power by holding onto it. When we release it, we can unburden it.  We become empowered, therefore that shame becomes powerless over us. That’s what I want to do. That’s my speculation anyway. It makes sense, doesn’t it?

Why don’t I stay anonymous?  That’s what I was asked. It’s a legitimate question.   It isn’t for attention. I don’t want it. I’ve never been one to bask in attention or glory. This isn’t going to change who I am. I am still going the introvert who needs solitude to process my thoughts and emotions. I will still crave deep connections with genuine people, and value quality over quantity.  I probably will always feel a little broken inside. I want to heal. I yearn to feel whole. 

I know that I am hard to get to know.  Thank you to my one girlfriend for bringing this to my awareness.  I always thought I was more open than I guess I really am.  I can be with impersonal relationships where there’s really no real risk of getting hurt like this, or with social media.   Not so much  in person.   I march to the beat of my own drum. I am not everyone’s cup of tea and I am ok with that. I am a thick skinned, confident, assertive, outspoken INFJ and more so with the veil of the internet. I’ve learned to be with the criticism I was raised with. I am an odd enigma of sorts; a walking contradiction. I’m a detached HSP with intimacy issues that wants to be close to people. I wish I could change some parts here. But I accept it and I have to work around it to find a way to make it work.  I’ve been really good at coping until I can’t. But I don’t want to just cope anymore. I enjoy my friends, but something I have realized about myself is that my ‘closest, most intimate’ relationships have been those I keep at a distance. My husband and I were in a long distance relationship for 4 years before we got married. I was great with the long distance thing. My best friend lives 400+ miles away. I haven’t seen him since my grandmother died and we only reconnected about 3 or 4 years ago. We have a close relationship, although we fight a lot. But I have no issues sharing personal things about myself with him. I’m not sure we could be close friends if we lived closer. I’d probably hold him at arms distance like I do everyone else.  

I’ve seen INFJ’s lately talk about how lonely they get. I’m not sure I would ever have that problem.  Maybe it’s different for me because I do have a husband and a family. And I do have a social life. It goes in waves. It’s more seasonal I’ve noticed.  Maybe I’m just not seeing that objectively.   But I want more. I want better. I am a person of depth and while I may wish… I’m afraid, and honestly I’m not sure if I even know how to have the healthy relationships I genuinely want. There have been so many toxic people in my life…

The answer to why I choose to share this now is I want my friends to get to know ME. I can’t allow them to get to know me when we are together like this. It doesn’t feel comfortable. I can’t express myself like this and I don’t like talking about myself. Talking about other people’s  lives is more interesting and it’s easier.  This gives us both an opportunity for it to be less ‘hard to get to know’ me if anyone chooses to do so.  

And the second reason is, if any of my friends or anyone else is going through anything remotely similar to what I have gone through, and they have felt isolated or have felt like a freak, crazy person, and their pain has been too much to bear, I want them to be able see that their friend or someone that could be their friend has gone through, or is going through something like them.  They are not alone.  If my pain, ’craziness’, or past suicidal thoughts  can help just one person feel less alone, then that’s what I want to do and it makes talking about the uncomfortable subjects worth it.  Thinking I could be helping someone else helps me shed my own shame of those ‘ugly’ things people don’t like talking about.  If one person removes their own ‘shame’ and can become empowered, then it becomes a ripple effect…

[writingjusttowrite8]

Golden (Chapter Four)

Hi friends! I probs sound like a broken record when I say this, but thank you so much to all those who have liked and reblogged these post and given kudos! And a SUPER HUGE thank you to those who’ve commented! I’ve gotten some people who want to be tagged in this, so I’ve started a tag list! If you want to be tagged, just let me know and I’ll add you. Thanks again loves!

P.S.: This is a secondary blog, so whenever I reply to comments on here it’ll pop up as coming from my main one (@galvanator). I’m not really sure how to adjust it and tumblr’s FAQ is, at best, unhelpful. I’m a technologically challenged millennial, so, from the bottom of my heart, my bad. 

You can also read this on AO3!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

-

I had turned in my paper the following day and had been about to avoid going into his office. Mrs. Peters made some comment of how it was ‘good Mr. Laufeyson finally had a student to challenge him,’ but I’d mostly ignored her. After that, I really hadn’t had much to deal with him. I did the readings, took the quizzes, and kept my distance. It did make my heart soar just a tiny bit, when I got my paper back with a large 99 written at the top, and a note that read ‘Always room for improvement, but it is nearing perfection’. I wanted to forget about everything that had happened prior to us in class, but it was so difficult. More than once, a tall, dark, black-haired stranger invade my dreams and filled me with a lust my hand couldn’t provide for my body. I wanted to forget how his skin felt against me, about how perfectly our bodies collided, but my mind didn’t let me. 

Professor Laufeyson’s class would have most certainly been my favorite if we hadn’t met previously. He was so articulate and well-informed; he made myself and every student get caught up in every word. It didn’t hurt that he looked the way he did. His wardrobe consisted solely of clothing that fit him to perfection. His tall frame was seemingly thin, but he was so strong and hard. I really couldn’t blame any of the other women who had a crush on him; after all, I’d probably have had one too. 

I did my best to be as little noticeable in his class as possible; only arrived exactly on time, turned in all that I needed to turn in, and left promptly as class ended. Everything I finished early, I turned into Mrs. Peters, and narrowly avoided seeing Professor Laufeyson whenever I could. I had nearly memorized his schedule so that I wouldn’t run into him; unfortunately, that meant running into Professor Jinks quite frequently. His leering eyes always made my skin crawl. I could never quite shake the way Loki had warned me about him on my first day. He usually lost interest in my once I was past him, or another girl with better cleavage walked past. But there were instances in which I wasn’t so lucky. 

“You know, dear,” Mrs. Peters started, “Professor Laufeyson will be in shortly. Why don’t you just wait for him and you can give your paper in person. You miss him so frequently, I’m afraid he’s not giving you the proper respect a star pupil like yourself should be given.” A small, hysterical laugh escaped my lips at the irony of her words. 

“Trust me, Mrs. Peters, Professor Laufeyson is giving me the exact amount of respect I require.” I said. She narrowed her eyes at me, not fully understanding what I meant. Luckily (or unluckily), we were interrupted by the loud, obnoxious voice that could only belong to one man; Professor Jinks. 

“My goodness, you come to see Laufeyson so often I’d say you had a crush on him,” Jinks said while walking over to Mrs. Peters and I. I was stunned into silence, my cheeks immediately turning beat red. As it turns our, Mrs. Peters couldn’t stand him either. 

“Professor! You really are too much! Mrs. Alavan is here for academic purposes only. Something you should strive to do as well,” Her condescending tone made me feel a bit better. Jinks merely rolled his eyes, and leaned against the counter where I was standing, effectively blocking me in.

“You know if you really wanted to stand out in Laufeyson’s class, I could tutor you. I offer private tutoring sessions to those… outstanding students,” Jink’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, as they trailed down to my chest.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need tutoring,” I said, tugging my books close and crossing my arms across my chest. Jinks scoffed.

“My tutoring could be of a great service to you; you sure you want to turn that down?” He stepped closer to me and I continued to back up. His intimidating glare made it hard to figure out the right thing to say, so I struggled with words for a moment. But then my savior appeared.

“If anything, Mrs. Alavan could give you some tutoring lessons,” Loki said, standing across the office. I let out a deep breath I wasn’t aware I was holding. Jinks turned to acknowledge Loki, then snapped it back towards me.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” Jinks said, finally stepping away. I took my opportunity to quickly walk out of the office, but not without giving Loki a quick nod in thanks. I saw the recognition in his eyes, as well as something else…

It looked like rage.

Since I couldn’t forget, I did the second best thing; avoid. I ended up getting an internship at a publishing company because my classes weren’t filling up enough of my time. I worked, and wrote, and refused to go out with Kate. I didn’t need her abandoning me again, and I didn’t feel like explaining what was so disastrous about last time. Three weeks since I’d gone to his office, had passed, and I was actively minding my own business. Kate, however, didn’t like how filled my schedule was and was growing tired of me refusing to spend time with her. 

“Oh, for god’s sake, Aurelia, its one measly Friday night! You’re literally the smartest person I’ve ever met, going out for 5 hours isn’t going to lower your IQ!” She pleaded through the phone. I sighed deeply, and contemplated just hanging up. 

“I’ve been though this; my work is the most important thing to me. Just because you enjoy going out every night doesn’t mean that I do. I like being able to get ahead in my school work, especially since I’ll be starting my internship soon!” I told her. She whined through the phone. “And I really don’t see how it matters if I go with you or not. Literally every time we’ve gone out together, even back in the states, you found a guy within 5 minutes of being in a bar. You’ll just ditch me anyways,” I said.

“That not true! Well… not entirely. Last time we went you, I very clearly remember you winding up with a handsome stranger who, quite literally, fucked you into oblivion,” She said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. I cringed, my mind flashing back to that night. “I know you’ve thrown yourself into your work to avoid thinking about him, but I have a much better idea than that,” She taunted.

“Continue…” I egged her on. At this point I’d accept nearly any opportunity to get my mind off Loki.

“Come out with me tonight and find a new guy! The best way to get over a man is to be reminded that there are so many others to choose from! If you’re able to find another handsome stranger to rock your world tonight, I guarantee that you’ll forget all about Mr. Tall, dark, and insatiable,” She taunted. Highly unlikely, but I understood her reasoning. I had been left… unfulfilled for a month now. It might be nice to fuck my way out of the hole Loki created. 

“Fine,” I heard Kate squeal when I spoke, “BUT, we can’t go to the same place. I don’t want to run into him once more.”

“Oh, I’m way ahead of you. Theres a bar a few block away from there, that’s a little more catered to students. I’m sure you’ll be able to find exactly what you need there,” She insisted.

I smiled to myself. This is a good thing; in a few hours, Loki will be old news. 

-

A slight knock on the door alerted Loki that there was a presence in his doorway. He looked up from his papers seeing Jinks in the doorway with an evil glint in his eyes. Loki checked his watch, seeing that it was just past 5:30. 

“Plans tonight, Laufeyson?” He asked.

“Not currently. I’d imagine you’re here to change that,” Loki said, leaning back in his seat. Jinks came in, looking around at some of the loose papers on the usually pristine desk.

“A couple of us are going out to celebrate the first month ending. You’ll join us, won’t you?” Jinks framed his words as a question, but Loki knew he wasn’t working his way out of this one. 

But, he had to at least give it a shot.

“The end of the first month means the beginning of exam season. I need to prepare a bit. I’m not sure its the right time to be going out,” He countered. 

“Oh, come on!” Jinks said, not persuaded by Loki’s words. “You���re the most prepared lad in all of Great Britain, surely you can afford one night of fun? All of the fun ones are going, even Candice from history, and she’s always had eyes for you…” Jinks leered. Gross, Loki thought, Candice had eyes for anything with a pulse. Loki huffed for a moment, trying to think of a good excuse before something dawned on him.

“Where would we be going?” He asked Jinks. He seemed to light up at the question, sensing he was getting closer to his goal.

“Sullivans, uptown. You’ve been there?” Jinks ask’s Loki. The name was familiar, but what really mattered is that it wasn’t where he’d met Aurelia. The chance of him running into her again would have prompted a much harsher rejection.

“Fine, but I’ve got to go home to change,” He said, standing up to put on his coat. Jinks slapped his hands together.

“Fantastic! I send you the address and you can meet us there. This will be fun! Even us esteemed professors need a night for ourselves,” He leered in the door way, with a facial expression Loki could only describe as disturbing.

Loki quickly made for his house, not really needing to change clothes, he just wanted a minute to himself. Thinking of Aurelia always threw him off, and he needed a minute to shake the thoughts out of her. But his idea to go home to get her out of his mind probably wasn’t the best plan of action. He’d washed his sheets 4 times since she was there, but every night, without fail, he’d swear he smelled her scent. It was engrained in his head; her smell, her eyes, how she’d exhaled when he’d touch her, like she was burning without his touch. It was too much to forget; not that Loki had done a good job of attempting that. He’d look at other women, and instantly compare her to Aurelia. He’d accidentally brush against a girl and sensed how different her warmth was from Aurelia. Everything reminded him of her, and it was eating at him. Her tiny, black-lace underwear were hidden in the pages of a hollowed out book he use to store sweets in as a child. They were a sweet in their own right, just a different context behind it.

Loki had built up a catalogue of things he regretted in his life, but the morning he left Aurelia was the one that stood out most. He hadn’t been able to sleep, but rather, watched her intently after their night together. Her dark hair fanned out across the pillow, her sweet lips parted slightly, how her hand was so tightly gripped with his; all of these thoughts were burned into his mind. It wasn’t until the early morning he was able even to look away from her. He didn’t have a huge stock in his kitchen, so he didn’t think there would be any harm in stepping out for a few minutes to go pick something up. It was only when he returned to his empty house, her scent already infused in his entryway, he realized what a mistake he’d made. That evening he’d even gone back to the same bar to see if he could find her, but after no sightings and three over-zealous women, he’d left.

Loki didn’t want to feel this way; he hadn’t even wanted to go home with somebody that night. But when he caught her gaze, something drew him in. It was like a rubber band pulled him to her until the collided, making an irreversible mark in his heart. That same rubber band that pulled them together, snapped from the tension and hit him right in the face the day he saw her in class. She was looking down, obviously panicking, but her unmistakable tendrils of hair had given her away. To every other student, he was just taking stock of who was in his class, but the slight clinching of his fist and deep swallow in his throat almost gave him away. 

He knew when he saw Aurelia in class that whatever pull he was experiencing was would need to be squandered, but it wasn’t completely gone. Despite him not wanting to go out, Loki couldn’t help but think this was a good way to finally remove whatever tug Aurelia had on him.

-

My short, velvet skirt didn’t provide a ton of warmth for my legs as the cool wind hit my body. London is such a beautiful place, but its temperature left a lot for a native-Floridan to be desired. Kate walked briskly, her long legs forcing my short ones to nearly run. I looked around at the people standing near the bar and noticed, pleasantly, that this crowd was much more college-friendly. Despite her promising not to abandon me again (I made her recite the mantra ‘I will not abandon you’ in the cab over here), we weren’t two steps inside until she saw someone familiar and ran to the other side of the bar. Great.

I found myself in an uneasy and familiar situation one again and vowed to myself that this was the last time I accompanied Kate to a bar. I noticed some girls that I vaguely recognized in a few of my classes by the bar, and decided that standing near them was better than standing on the wall by myself. Another girl who was in a situation similar to myself, was also seated at the bar, and looked at me curiously when I ordered a drink.

“You’re in Professor Laufeyson’s class too, aren’t you?” She asked, slurring a bit. I nodded my head, taking my drink from the bartender. She stuck out her hand and I shook it.

“Daisy McGee,” She said.

“Aurelia Alavan,” I told her. 

“Where are you from?” She asked, clearly recognizing my accent. 

“Near Miami, but I go to school at NYU. I’m just doing a semester over here,” I explained. She nodded. “What about you?” I asked.

“Near Dublin. Got a nice scholarship to come over here, so…” She shrugged her shoulders and I laughed a bit. “How are you doing in his class?” She asked.

“Not bad; he’s a little stingy on grades though. Gave me a 99 on the first paper because there’s ‘always room for improvement’.” I told her. She looked at me with wide eyes.

“You’re actually able to pay attention? Good god, more power to you. Every time he opens his mouth all I want to do confess my love to him,” She said, resting her head on her hand and looking away from me. I laugh a little bit; partially out of her words, partially out of how ridiculous the situation was. “Even now, there are plenty of eligible bachelors here, but I can only focus on him…” She said, sighing. I looked at her confused.

“What do you mean?” I asked. She pointed into the direction she was looking, and lo-and-behold, Loki was there. His sharp facial features pressed into a stoic expression while he watched the man I’d come to know as Jinks. Jinks was clearly drunk and hanging on the arm of a fake-looking woman, but Loki seemed to be unimpressed. I, on the other hand, was fuming. ‘Would it ease your worries if I told you that I don’t often do this as well?’ his voice rang so clear in my mind from that night. I believed him! Even after everything, I believed that this wasn’t a normal occurrence and that he wasn’t some mid-thirties perv who uses his prowess to influence young women. 

I felt stupid, humiliated, and entirely heart-broken. There was something very comforting about the fact that I was the exception, and now… I felt tears clouding my eyes and my skin burn bright red. Daisy had said something to me, but I was too wrapped up in my furry to notice. It wasn’t until his bight blue eyes cast themselves in my direction, that I felt my body unfreeze. His expression faltered only slightly, but his eyes didn’t leave mine, and I didn’t have the heart to turn away. Finally, I was able to hear over the blood pounding in my ears to see what Daisy had to say.

“Those eyes could peer into my soul. Isn’t he charming?” She said.

“Yeah,” I hopped off the stool, grabbing my bag, “A real charming son-of-a-bitch.” Maybe if Loki hadn’t been captivating her, she would have noticed me stomping off, but thankfully she was too enamored with looking at him. I tried to navigate my way through the still-growing crowd, but a large, pale hand grabbed my waist and began pulling me in a different direction. I turned back to yell at whoever it was, but when I saw his face, my voice fell silent. He gripped me a little tighter when I stopped fighting him, and very delicately pulled me through a door near the back. The cold air of the outside hit my over-heated skin like a ton of bricks. I turned to face the wall to collect my thoughts and make sure we were alone before tearing into him.

“Aurelia,” he started, but I cut him off.

“How dare you! How dare you tell me you don’t do this often! You’re even worse than that Jinks character; at least he has the decency to wear his creepiness on his sleeve. You hide behind that cool exterior and pretend to be one of the good guys, but all you really are is some sleaze!” I huffed. My fist were balled up at my sides and I was stomping around, trying not to look directly at Loki. His firm hands grasped my shoulders, forcing me to stop and take a breath. His eyes were wide and his mouth was set in a firm line. “What!” I yelled at him. 

“Jinks made me come; I didn’t want to. And the only reason I allowed him to choose this place is because I couldn’t risk seeing you again at the other bar. I don’t come here, not to places with students. I would never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable, you must know that,” His piercing blue eyes bore directly into mine.

“You… came here to avoid me? Ha…” I said, somewhat hysterically. “I came here to avoid you,” He finally let me go and I slacked against the brick wall. 

“We really are a pair, aren’t we?” He breathed, mimicking my actions. I slid against the wall until I was seated on the ground, and he followed me as well. 

“Why can’t we seem to stay away from each other?” I asked. I didn’t know if I was asking him, or just the universe in general. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t…” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it rang in my ears.

“No…” I got up and started pacing again, trying to hold back tears and not let him see the one’s that had already fallen. “You can’t say that to me! You hurt me so much; letting me wake up alone like that! I thought it would be easy to just have fun and not get attached, but you woke something in me that just won’t go away now! You left me, Loki, you’re the one-“

“I didn’t leave you!” He yelled. I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him. He stalked over to me and gently slid on large hand on my cheek. “I didn’t leave you, not like that. I wen’t to get breakfast and when I came back, you were gone. I figured you didn’t feel what I felt that night and just left. I wanted to come back and ravish you for the rest of the day and take you on a proper date that night, but you were gone! I didn’t want you to go, I never would have left if I thought you’d taken it as a sign to leave,” his usually strong voice was pleading and soft. 

I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t resist gently pressing my lips to his. He felt so cool and soft, making my beat red skin tingle at the contact. It was a gentle, momentary kiss, but it felt like hours. When I realized what I’d done, I tensed up and quickly broke away. His eyes were closed, and his lips were slightly parted, and he slowly opened up his eyes to me. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done-“ His lips were back on mine, but this time it was feverish. His mouth was hungrily devouring mine, while his hands went to grip me too him. I clawed back at him, pulling him as close to me as possible. He pushed us against a wall and hiked up my leg around his hip. His tongue dove into my mouth and tangled with mine. My arms wrapped around his neck and my hands played with his soft hair. After a while of an intense make out session, he pulled back and rested his forehead on mine, catching his breath. 

“Give me one more night with you… please” He said quietly, letting his warm breath fan across my face.

“Yes.”

-

Forewarning for the next chapter... prepare for Da Smut™.

Tag List:

@thevixeniris @lovinghiddlestom

[pcnnydime]

I’m Leaving Tumblr.

  Dramatic? Probably, but it’s come to my attention (again, and again, and again) that a great number of people feel uncomfortable in my presence, so I’d rather the title sum up the post. You can read this and try to see things from my point of view, or you can move on with your lives. Either way, I hope this doesn’t cause much drama for anyone not involved, and I hope everyone regardless of involvement has a good day/night.

First, I apologize if this post seems robotic, but after countless anxiety attacks , multiple lost friends, and a few instances of self harm due to everything that’s been happening around me, I find myself lacking the emotional energy to put more ‘pep’ or ‘enthusiasm’ into this post. I’ve been on Tumblr since Red Thread was at its peak, however many years that may have been, and roleplaying, meeting people here, and developing characters that mean the world to me has helped me grow as a person. It brought me out of a near 2 year long depression that included an extremely abusive relationship, being left behind by all my close local friends, and a failed suicide attempt. Writing on tumblr introduced me to my best friend, many dear friends, and my current romantic partner. It’s seen me through a really tough job, two cross-country moves, and some of my worst and lowest points. But with the word ‘racist’ following me at every turn, I no longer feel welcome or supported by what was once my favorite hobby and best coping mechanism.

The reason being labelled a racist has effected me so deeply is because I come from a multi-racial home. I am half Puerto Rican, one quarter African American, and one quarter white. I have tan skin, very hispanic features, and very curly, thick hair with dark brown eyes. I don’t look white. I grew up in a rural area where I was one of very few people of color in BOTH of the schools I attended, and I’ve never lived in very diverse areas in all my 21 years. I don’t believe I was treated any differently because of it, I never had any race-specific issues in my childhood, and I’m very lucky because of that. Sure, I’ve had a few ‘playful nicknames’ but nothing that ever hurt me as much as being bullied about my height, weight, or chest size.

My Grandmother is white and my Grandfather is black - they got together in the 60′s and dealt with a great deal of prejudice and hardship due to being an interracial couple. They and my mother raised me to look past what people look like on the outside - weight, height, gender, age, race, religion - they believe, and I believe that it shouldn’t matter. People should be judged and valued or ignored based upon their personalities. In a near-perfect society, that’s how everyone would feel, but ours is far from perfect. People of color are faced with violence, hate, and even murder on a daily basis all over the world - not just in America - and by no means has it ever been my intent to diminish that, I simply am deterred by conflict because it hurts me to see. 

Now that I’ve described myself, the way I’ve been affected, and my views on race and in/equality, I will explain my experience as a “racist”. For months, I’ve been blocked, shunned, and ignored due to this. I spent MONTHS not knowing why people were blocking me, why all of a sudden people I had been writing with and even admired for their graphic and literary skill were suddenly ignoring me and treating me like I was less than a stranger.

Because no one told me.

Not until sometime around perhaps September or October, when someone was finally kind and considerate enough to step out of their comfort zone and inform me that I’d made a comment about Black Panther without thinking about my wording. On Twitter, I said something to the effect of ‘Black Panther has too much black power for me’, something along those lines. What I should have said was: Black Panther was a good movie, and I liked Killmonger as an antagonist until he began building a highly advanced army of thousands of near-superpowered warriors and devastating militaristic technology to declare war on what was clearly intended to be Caucasians as a race. At that point, I became uncomfortable because racial war of any kind isn’t something I would have paid money to see in a theatre, had I known it was going to be included. But I didn’t say that because twitter has a character limit, and I didn’t think anyone wanted to read an entire thread of my review of what was, all in all, an excellent movie.

Another individual recently followed suit and gave me a few more examples of why people believe I’m racist and discriminatory.

1. I’ve used the “n” word on multiple occasions.          This is not true. I am incredibly uncomfortable around the use of that word, in any form, even it’s reclaimed version. I don’t like it. I don’t know where or when I would have used it before, but even as someone who is African-American and has multiple African-American family members who say it ‘affectionately’ to refer to each other, I have not EVER said that word. Not as a joke, and certainly not as an insult.

2. I hold people who speak English as a secondary, third, or otherwise language to a higher standard than those who do not.

       No. If anything, it’s the opposite. I strongly admire and respect anyone who speaks more than one language, as someone who only speaks English and very broken Spanish. I formerly had an RP partner whose first language is Spanish, and is very proud of their heritage. My father, who I’m no longer in contact with due to estrangement and abandonment, primarily speaks Spanish and I had no quarrel with him because of that.      Some contradictory things you may have read can be found here and here. These are screenshots from the rules page on an old blog of mine that I would rather not explicitly name, for the sake of privacy for people who used to interact with me. In these screenshots, I say “[Does] Understand that English is not everyone’s first language. It’s okay if you have some errors with grammar or spelling, as long as you’re making the best effort that you can.” perhaps that can come off as me saying ‘you have to try really hard if you want to write with me’, but in fact, it just meant that I wanted some manner of effort to be present. I.E., if I write 2 paragraphs, at least write one in response, rather than a single sentence. Could I have worded that better? Absolutely. But since realizing that can be perceived incorrectly, I removed it from my rules page entirely to avoid offending anyone.

        In the other screenshot, I mention not tolerating anyone who is ‘cis or heterophobic’. This ties back into my ideal of not seeing people for who they are on the outside, but rather, who they are on the inside. I’ve had great friendships with people who were either cisgendered, heterosexual, or both, and it upsets me to see all the jokes about ‘down with cishets’ and the hate that the LGBT+ community sends their way. I understand that being a ‘cishet’ doesn’t put them in any ‘legitimate’ danger like being LGBT+ does, but it doesn’t feel good to be judged for being LGBT+, so it doesn’t seem right to judge ANYONE based on sexuality or gender without personal experience. If someone has been repeatedly hurt, offended, or otherwise wronged by individuals of those designation, I understand, but mob mentalities frighten me. 

I’ve apologized for these accusations, and explained my reasoning and my ‘side’ behind them, and there’s one last thing I’d like to address. My being perceived as acting like a victim. This, I can’t contest. Perhaps I have been overly dramatic over this hole thing. Roleplay is a hobby, at the end of the day, and while it may not be a great one, I do have a life outside of Tumblr and Twitter. What I don’t have, however, is friends. My only friends are miles and miles away, and they’re few and far between. The ones I did have began telling me I was a racist, to me, seemingly out of nowhere. I had no clue when these things began to spread because again, I wasn’t confronted. I’ve lost two people I consider to be good friends, and I’ve been doing my best to keep to myself ever since. I stopped reaching out, out of fear that people would find me obnoxious or abrasive, not knowing how far my reputation had spread. The absolute last thing I wanted was to hurt anyone, so when I vented to my friends I asked them not to make a big deal out of it. I didn’t want them with the label as well. I didn’t want to see them ostracized, or to be the reason they lost a hobby they enjoyed. When one of them went against my wishes and said something on their blog, it was deemed ‘public drama that didn’t belong on the dash’ and I was TERRIFIED that they would end up losing the chance to interact with others. Thankfully they didn’t, but that’s the example I have. No, something like that didn’t necessarily belong on the dash, but they were simply trying to look out for me while watching me have an anxiety attack and contemplate dropping all of my muses and completely deleting all social media. I’ve moved twitters multiple times due to trust issues this whole ordeal has caused for my own mental health. I’ve hidden behind locked accounts because the thought of people who are triggered by public drama having to see something of this scale was at the forefront of my mind. In short, if it seemed as though I was playing the part of a victim, it’s because I have, for months, been confused and hurt without understanding what was going on. When I tried to move past it and remedy my mistakes, I was pushed away and hurt even more by people I called friends.

To sum the entirety of this long post up, I’m upset. Far more upset than perhaps I’ve conveyed here, because I’m doing my best to remain logical and fair. I understand why anyone who has heard these things about me would block me and would want to avoid contact - I wouldn’t want to interact with a racist either. But I’m not a racist. I’m not judgemental. I’m open-minded to a fault, it seems, and my ideal of perfect equality is unrealistic in the world we live in full of murder and segregation. If anyone would like to talk to me in more detail about anything they’ve read here, they may do so at my open twitter which is solely for responding to inquiries about my reputation, my tumblr blog here, which will no longer be active, or my personal discord, which is mad dog!#6346 .

There are likely many issues I forgot to address, or simply don’t know about, but I’d like to thank anyone who read this far. Your attention means more to me than I can express.

[yesanxietyitsmeagain-blog]

The Sound of Anxiety

Welcome to my tumblr page. Who am I? Does it matter? Seriously, does it? While scrolling through this blog was that question going through your mind? Or were you thinking, wow I feel the same way, how is she saying all that I feel? If it’s the former, I suppose all you need to know is I’m a girl trying to navigate the world with anxiety tinted glasses strapped firmly to my head and no way to get them off.

 If you are the latter though, I am another like you. Someone’s whose brain is wired a little different, who sees the world in a way that’s not off but simply unique. 

To describe anxiety, I always turn to something I once saw on Facebook (which is not a great site to be on when you have anxiety, let me tell you. However, social norms that I am a slave to for various reasons insist I use this page), the post said, having Anxiety is like hearing a movie villains theme all the time. I never related to anything more in my life. Therefore, when I describe anxiety to those who don’t have it, I describe it like that. I ask them how they feel when they hear the Jaws theme song. Do they feel on edge? Does their heart race a little? Their eyes start to dart around the screen, looking for that giant shark? Do they sit up a little straighter? Living with anxiety is a lot like that. Except, there’s one difference. I hear it all the time. 

But, to clarify, I don’t just hear the theme song all the time. I hear it loudly. Let me explain that further, I hear it loudly. SO FUCKING LOUDLY. It’s like the Jaws theme song is on surround sound blaring so loud the entire house is shaking, and it’s doing it on every speaker, of which the room seems to be made of. The whole room is shaking, I can’t find the volume control, so all I can do is cower in the middle of the room with my hands over my ears praying that it stops, but it never does. Little effects the sound, sometimes I can distract myself for a minute that I can almost pretend my whole body isn’t vibrating with the sound. Sometimes, I can let myself scream to drown it out, try to simply be louder than the speakers. However, most of the time I can’t do anything but try to live with it. 

I thought everyone lived like this for a long time. I firmly believed that everyone in existence had the same thoughts I had. That people are always talking about me, that I’m not good enough, that if I don’t do something than the world, or my life, might end, that I’m worthless, that I’ll never be whatever enough to have people love me. I thought everyone heard these thoughts in their minds, loud and on repeat. It wasn’t until someone told me that most people aren’t consumed with these thoughts, that most people don’t worry as much as I do that I realized my world view was different than everyone else. While the anxiety tinted glasses remained on, it was almost like some mud was wiped off and I could see that no one else wore the goggles I did. Or rather, not everyone wore the goggles I did. Some others wear them, some of their prescriptions more and less than the goggles belonging to me. However, not everyone has them on. Some are blessed to be goggle free, and those are the people I wonder about the most. How does it feel not to have that music blasting in your mind 24/7 making it hard to focus on anything beyond it? Do they still worry and fret? Or are they free to live in oblivion, unaware of the anxiety that swirls around some of us? 

Acknowledging that the music in my mind was unique, or rather something healthy people don’t hear on blast, gave me a strange freedom. It gave me the freedom to do something about the music. Except, doing something about the music was almost more terrifying than the music itself. By now, the music is my soundtrack, I’m used to it. I know the crescendo, I know the beat, I know when it’s going to get louder, and when it will get softer. I’ve heard it for so long that I don’t know if I ever didn’t hear the music. Dare I risk having another CD put in? Or worse, perhaps have it become silent. Could I even stand my own thoughts? 

Knowing you have anxiety weirdly gives you more anxiety, as the world isn’t always pleasant to those with anxiety. People think it’s all in your head (which it sort of is, I mean our brain is where the neurons are overfiring, but it’s not like I have a choice in the matter), people assume you are being dramatic (I hate that word, it makes me feel like I should be singing through my pain / panicked states), or worse yet, people ask if you have “prayed about it” (this is especially true for those of us living within religious families or who attend church regularly and finally open up to someone in the church about our feelings. More on that in a different post or seven). The world presumes to know how we feel, or perhaps it doesn’t care and therefore tries to silence us all together. Either way, having anxiety carries a stigma that sometimes makes simply hearing the loud music less anxiety inducing than going out and screaming I HAVE ANXIETY PLEASE HELP ME at the nearest person. 

However, my anxiety got worse. It got so much worse. It was like, the moment I admitted to myself that I have anxiety, all the things started to happen. People got cruel, people left, and I felt myself start to spiral. I had spiraled before, but this was a spiral that was out of control. It felt like I was being thrown overboard and asked to swim through a storm, however I didn’t know how to swim and the waves weren’t giving me a chance to even get my bearings. I didn’t know which way was up, or even if the storm was ever going to end. It led me to get help, if only because I knew I needed a compass out of the storm, and quickly. 

To be honest, I take meds. Not always, sometimes I skip days or weeks because I forget, or because the anxiety feels less and I feel like I don’t need them. I studied mental health, and read about people doing this. I used to judge it, now I don’t, because now I do it to. Days when I know I’m going to face something hard, I make sure to take the meds. Days when the music feels louder than usual, I take the meds. Why? Because the meds turn the music down. I don’t know how. I don’t know if they act as earplugs, or if they are the remote to the music. All I know is the meds let me turn the music down to a soft song in the background. Never gone, anxiety doesn’t ever really leave, it just gives me moments of respite. Meds let me have more of those moments. I like those moments, though I’m not sure I like the cost I had to pay to get those moments. 

The cost for me was people. Friends who gave up on me, or rather a best friend who gave up on me. I like to blame her getting in a relationship for abandoning me, but I think the truth is, it got too hard for her try and ride out the storm with me. I think she saw me as selfish, as avoiding the situation, as avoiding her, simply because I didn’t know how to deal with the overwhelming anxiety. I think she got mad I chose myself and my feelings over being happy, or whatever she wanted me to be for her. I sometimes hate her for leaving me, sometimes I hate myself for not just telling her what was going on, for choosing to leave her in the dark in fear of judgment, in fear that she’d call me selfish (a word I hate, as I try so hard not to ask for anything from anyone unless absolutely necessary. I feel like asking for help makes me a burden, even though I insist on helping other people. Like I said, anxiety is a vicious cycle)

Anxiety cost me her. It probably cost me other people over the years too. People I didn’t know how to confront, people I didn’t know how to tell how I was feeling too. People I pushed away in the moments when my anxiety was so loud that I just wanted to be alone, rather than try to hear their voices cutting through the ruckus. 

I often wonder if I’ll ever find anyone willing to live with this for me. If anxiety, and all that goes with it, is something anyone wants to tolerate forever. I know other people with anxiety get in relationships and stay in them, but I’m not always sure that will be me. In fact, I’m convinced it may not be. But again, that’s another post for another time. 

I’ll wrap up with this. Anxiety is a journey, it’s an ocean to swim through to find the other side. I don’t know whats on the other side, I don’t know if I’ll see the other side in my lifetime. I don’t know how much I’ll lose along the way or how long this journey will take but I have to try. I have to start swimming.