#it’s not fun anymore I’m sick of posting about it I am sick of feeling this way I am sick !!!

[seventh-district]

.

[ccorinthian]

Paranoid again 😔

[veinpursuer]

WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO

[xcherricutie]

➤ Messy

Vegeta x F!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count - 1.5k

Summary - Vegeta is a clean freak with anger issues and pent up emotions, and decides to take it out on you for fun.

Notes: This is my first time posting here. I am from Wattpad, so I don't know tumblr etiquette, apologies.

“Your habits are disgusting and you’re a mess.”

He would follow you around and criticize you for what felt like hours on end. It was enough to drive anyone mad, and he did it to you on purpose. He was a man on a mission, out to make your life as miserable as possible. That’s just how it was, being acquainted with the prince of all saiyans. It didn’t matter if you tried to avoid him, he would find you, and he would let you know of every flaw in your life. Almost as if he took a sick satisfaction in seeing you wallow in your own misery and insecurities. 

“Vegeta, her house is none of your business,” Bulma scolded with a harsh glare, slapping your discarded napkin out of his hand. You hadn’t had the time to clean up your living space before Bulma and Vegeta dropped by, unannounced. You didn’t mind surprise visitors, but Vegeta was an exception. Every single time he came by, which had become noticeably more frequent, you made absolutely sure that he could not find a single reason to complain or nitpick. You were simply thankful Bulma was there to keep her dog on his leash. 

“Sorry for the mess,” you forced through grit teeth with a smile, before your face relaxed as your eyes landed on Bulma. “What brings you here? You’re not one for random visits.” 

“Right, sorry,” Bulma chuckled, brushing some strands of her azure hair behind her ear, glancing over at Vegeta as he tip-toed through the specks of dirt in your carpet. Bulma rolled her eyes at the dramatic saiyan, sighing. “I need you to keep an eye on him. I don’t really trust him to be alone at Capsule Corp., and my mom and dad are out on vacation. I’ve got a big workload on my hands and can’t deal with him right now. I’ll pay you good, I promise.” 

You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell both of them to get out of your house and never come back. Babysitting Vegeta could have perhaps been Bulma’s most unreasonable request for you. He had not been on Earth for long, and yet had antagonized you more than anyone. You rarely even showed your face at Capsule Corp. anymore because of the man. And Bulma was your best friend that you visited nearly daily for years. She knew how much you hated Vegeta. 

And yet, when she pulled the wad of cash out of her pocket, you immediately found yourself agreeing to the impossible task. Bulma’s payments were usually unreasonable amounts, as if the stack of paper zenni she handed to you was less than allowance money for her. It felt wrong to take, but what could you say? You were living independently in the city - you needed any cash you could get. Even if it meant spending a day with the most annoying being in the universe. 

As soon as Bulma had left, it was not long before Vegeta started to act up. He almost acted like a prepubescent boy at times, unable to properly convey his feelings, resorting to anger to vent. You had even made a point to clean up around the house so he wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable, but some of the things he complained about were unreasonable. 

“The geometry of your living space is poorly designed, woman,” Vegeta commented as he stood in the midst of your living room, looking around at the furniture. You rolled your eyes as you vacuumed the carpet, tuning his voice out. 

“Nobody is stopping you from just leaving. You hate all of us, I don’t understand why you continue to torture yourself on this planet,” you muttered, unsure if he heard you over the vacuum. You didn’t care much if he did or not, barely having the energy to speak to or at him. 

“I’m waiting for Kakarot to come back to this miserable planet. But I’m starting to doubt he will,” Vegeta said as he placed his hands on his hips, searching for more things in your house to nitpick about. You had done a pretty good job hiding things for him to complain about. 

“Maybe he’s avoiding you,” you said with a smirk at the idea. You would not blame Goku one bit if he was avoiding the entire Earth because of Vegeta’s presence. Vegeta did not find your comment very funny as his head whipped to your direction, glaring harshly. 

“Then I would track him down and drag him to this miserable planet to humiliate him in front of his loved ones,” Vegeta sneered, lip raised in a slight snarl, as if the mere assumption were the most offensive thing he’d ever heard. 

“Is it really that hard to accept that somebody doesn’t like you and doesn’t want to see you? I really don’t understand you, Vegeta,” you stood up straight as you turned off the vacuum, turning to glare at him. “You antagonize people on purpose, and then get mad when everyone leaves. What do you want from us? Why won’t you just leave?” 

“My business is none of your concern, woman. I suggest you close your mouth and not utter a single sound from now on, unless you really want to see what antagonistic looks like. I could put you through a world of misery with words alone, I haven’t done anything to you yet.” Vegeta’s harsh eyes stared into your soul, as if knowing you weren’t going to listen. He had been here less than a year, and yet knew you would not stand for such nonsense. 

“This is my house! I suggest you shut up if you know what’s good for you, asshole!” You yelled, leaning closer to his face. His warm breath hit your face as he scoffed, looking down at you as if he were so high and mighty. He was barely three inches taller than you.

“I could destroy you, and this house, and this whole planet in a matter of seconds if I wished. Your empty threats mean nothing to me, human.” Vegeta smirked down at you. That was your breaking point as your hand moved on its own. Even Vegeta found himself shocked by your sudden movement as your hand left its mark across his cheek, its shape searing into his cheek. Head turned from the sudden force, Vegeta stared at you with wide eyes, as if to let his brain process the attack on him. You expected him to blow up. You needed to gain control, fast. You would rather your house remained intact by the time Bulma returned. 

“Wh-What’s with the surprised look? Didn’t think a girl could hit you? Bet you’re completely smitten, huh?” Your face lit up like a lightbulb, cheeks burning as you smirked, watching his every muscle movement. You didn’t even mean for the words to escape your lips, but as they did, you knew you were dead. “You want to kiss me so bad, huh, Vegeta?” 

You saw the blush bloom across his cheek, making your hand mark burn ever brighter. That was the first time you had ever seen an emotion other than anger or pride on his face. But the view did not last long, as you suddenly found your vision obscured, his large frame right in your face, his lips connected to yours. This was an unexpected development, to say the least. 

His touch sent lightning through your nerves as his hands uncharacteristically gently slid up your arms, gloved fingers brushing over your cheeks. His kiss was soft, as if to show you everything he had been unable to get across before, many emotions flowing through one small touch. That one small touch, however, began to grow more desperate as Vegeta grabbed your shoulders, firmly pressing his lips to yours. Your scent was intoxicating, and every little jolt of electricity to his nerves sent him spiraling through his pent-up emotions even more. 

It wasn’t until your palms were pressed to his chest, trying to push him off, that he broke from his much-needed kiss. You stared up at Vegeta in surprise, watching many emotions flow through his dark pupils, before he finally came to his senses. You were pushed away, although much softer than you would have expected, his warmth pulling away from you as he left you standing there. He plopped down onto the sofa, sinking into the cushions as he crossed his arms, avoiding meeting your gaze. Your eyes stayed glued to him for a moment longer, before you let out a silent scoff, smiling in amusement. 

Vegeta had not uttered so much as a word after that. No more comments on her habits or appearance, no more jabs at her life and home. He had sat silently at her side, stealing glances at her every once in a while as she read her book in peace. And perhaps it was the cleaner environment, or just something in him beginning to bloom, but you looked much better than when he had shown up. 

And you weren’t sure if it was just the sunlight hitting him at just the right spot, or if he just looked like this when he wasn’t constantly raging, but Vegeta had a different look about him, almost a glow. Perhaps he wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought.

[sixosix]

( a/n ) light angst, hurt/comfort, PROFANITY WARNING, guys im so sorry this is so short but its all im capable of rn

special mention TYSM @earthtooz for proofreading i owe u my soul

he’s always been a little sensitive to people caring for him. he’s used to taking care of others, to have his parents let him get away with everything, and he’s spent his life isolating himself from people who would see him past what he is but for who he is.

reo rolls his shoulder to shove your hand off of him, frowning at the wall. “you know me well enough already, don’t you? you know that i hate it when you get like this.”

“this isn’t good for you, reo. you’re destroying yourself,” you snarl, jabbing at his back. “i’m sick of seeing you like this. i’m not a babysitter, nor your therapist.”

“i’m not asking you to worry about me, am i?” he snaps, finally turning to meet your eyes.

anger boils in your chest, but you let it simmer with a few deep breaths. reo isn’t thinking properly right now, raving on and on about not working hard enough, and how he isn’t catching up. “there isn’t a professional boundary between us, i care for you because i love you. right now, when you say shit like that? i can barely give a fuck about you anymore.”

reo’s sharp scowl falters around the edges, giving way to confusion. “where are you going?” he demands when you make your way to the door.

“away,” you say, slipping your shoes on and refusing to look at him. “you said you need space, right? then i’ll give it to you. we’re over.”

“fine.” his tone is biting, but his voice sounds strange. “fine…”

he’s still lethargic, you tell yourself; he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and he’ll regret it later. but he doesn’t stop you.

maybe if you were to glance back at him one last time, you’d see the broken expression on his face hitting him right after.

from the start, reo’s always been expecting you would leave him. everyone does that to him, anyway. even nagi, who he still considers his best friend. it was a little too good to be true with you, so he tells himself that this was bound to happen. that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when it finally happens.

reo groans, shoving his face into his pillow. his friends snicker at his misery, so reo does what he needs to and flips them off with two hands. but as a groveling man with his face hidden by his sheets, it does not paint the intimidating picture he wanted.

“it hasn’t even been that long,” nagi remarks. he doesn’t spare reo a glance so unfortunately, he doesn’t get see reo flashing him with his middle finger.

“mmrgh,” reo says, still pressed against his bed.

isagi pats him on the shoulder, which doesn’t help anyone, but it’s the thought that counts.

“record him, record him, do it,” bachira says, clapping nagi on the back repeatedly, his strength enough to jostle him back and forth. obediently, nagi follows, pointing his phone camera right at a moping reo.

“day two without y/n,” nagi says to his future audience. “barely holding on.”

“i feel awful,” reo groans. “y/n blocked me.”

“do you regret what you said?” isagi asks.

“‘course i do,” reo hisses, offended that he would even ask that. “i was an asshole. y/n was right—y/n’s always right. i’m stupid.”

bachira snorts, “keep fighting, reo!” and barely manages to dodge the pillow thrown his way.

the camera pans back to reo, who’s looking red in the face, awfully pathetic. “fuck off. don’t post that. y/n’s gonna see it and make fun of me when we’re back again.”

nagi posts it anyway.

chigiri hums thoughtfully, waving a hand in front of your face. “you don’t look like you moved on to me.”

you splutter, shoving his phone back onto him. you feel your heart pound in your ears and with the way chigiri smiles knowingly, you almost wonder if he can hear it, too. “shut up! why did he say that? i hate him.”

“sure you do. say what?”

“‘when we’re back together again’ like he’s so sure about it,” you try to say it like you’re angry, but your expression resembles reo from that video. it doesn’t come out as you want it.

reo looks much better now. nagi says that reo religiously followed your advice right after and has been faring better, which is a real shame since you can’t even see it for yourself. he looks less pale and much brighter, but instead of the anger you last saw him with, he’s just become a carbon copy of a wet blanket.

“aren’t you?” chigiri watches the post again, just to torment you with your sniveling ex. “getting back together again, i mean.”

“i’m leaving.”

“yeah? and go where? reo’s bed?”

“i’ll strangle you!”

[hrryshoney]

i don’t wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck

A/N: here’s a matty sick!fic for you. i’m a sucker for friends to lovers, so sorry to be annoying but here’s that! maybe switching povs, i’m tired so give me a break.

warnings: kinda suggestive maybe if you squint real hard, matty’s in loveeee but readers oblivious, matty’s a little shit. religion? kind of? not really at all, but talks of God is in there. bad writing, idk n idc.

prompt: “can you kiss me? i’m sure i’ll feel wayy better if you do,”

edit: pt. 2 now posted here

You and Matty were friends. Well, maybe best friends. You definitely thought so. You’d been beside him for as long as you can remember. So, you think you’ve earned that title.

Besides him being your, talented, smart, funny, witty and incredibly good-looking friend, he was also your insufferable rockstar friend. The cocky, arrogant one. The one who would tease you until you could feel your face get hot.

And, the one with the weak immune system, apparently.

“Darling?” You heard his call from his bedroom. He had rung your phone at promptly 7:30 AM earlier today. Telling you how he was positively dying, and how you must come over and take care of me, angel. You really must.

“Yes, your Royal Highness?” You say teasingly with a roll of your eyes, walking into his room. He looked positively pathetic. Lying down, wrapped in his white comforter.

Matty pouts a bit at that. “I’m being serious, yeah? Don’t make fun of me, this is awful.”

“Mhm, I can imagine.” You give a little pout, a feigned wave of sympathy. “Did ya need something?”

“How about some empathy?” He scoffs at you, all in good nature of course. Matty needs to get that final banter in. Anything to rile you up, even when he’s sick.

“We all get sick, Matty.” You roll your eyes with a giggle. “I know how you feel, trust me.” You move to sit on the edge of the bed. He unravels his hands to reach out for you, but you move farther away.

“What’s with that, then? Don’t love me anymore? Hm?” He maneuvers his body to be closer to yours.

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not trying to get sick.” You ignore the butterflies that roll in your stomach from his grin. From the use of the word ‘love’. Of course you’ve said it to each other before. You’ve known him for almost 10 years, and he’s your best friend. But you can’t help but wish for it in a different context.

“Wouldn’t get sick for me, love?” He laughs and lays back, a little cough accompanied by it.

“Do ya want some water? Cough doesn’t sound too hot.”

“I sound hot without the cough though, right?” He winks, and you cast your gaze to the floor. You let out an unconvincing laugh. It doesn’t get easier as time passes, that’s for sure.

“You’re corny, Healy.” Your lame response feels bitter on the tongue. “Seriously, do you need anything? If not, I’ll go back to the living room and get some work in.”

He gets a gleam in his eye, and his lip quirks up. Whatever comes out of his mouth won’t be good, you just know it. So, you mentally prepare yourself.

“Can you kiss me? I’m sure I’ll feel way better if you do.” He gives that signature smirk of his, like he’s enjoying this all too much. His eyes trace from yours, to your lips, and then back up. You definitely weren’t prepared for that, though.

You feel the heat spread all over your body. Why am I friends with him, again? You glare at him. “Funny.” You say monotonous, unwavering.

“Hey, I’m being serious, darling. The offer is there.” He shrugs noncommittally. Is he joking? Like, seriously?

You never let your hopes get too high. You brush off all his flirting as jokes. He’s got supermodels and singers knocking at his door. You never thought you would genuinely be his type. Just friendly banter.

“Okay, Matty.” You brush it off once again. You don’t want your mind to wander there. Wander there like it had so many sleepless nights. Lying in bed, panting, thinking of him.

“Then come plant one on me, won’t ya?” He taps against his lips with his pointer finger, the biggest smile on his face. You wonder, is this all a joke to him?

“You ask all your friends to kiss you when your sick?” You deflect quickly, not wanting to deal with this.

“Only the pretty girls who are my best friends that come over at eight in the morning for me.” He shrugs with an easy smirk. He really is a little shit. “‘Sides, not even that sick. Don’t think you’d catch a bug from a little peck.”

“Oh, no? Thought you were ‘positively dying, darling. It’s dreadful, innit?’?” You lower your voice a few tones and put on a bad british accent to mock him.

He feigns offense with his gasp. “I do not sound like that! You’re kidding, that’s blasphemous.”

“Ah, yes. Because you’re so holy?” You let out a laugh.

“Mhm, I can have you crying out to God if you give me a kiss?” The look on his face is vile. You want to kiss it away. Smack it away. Do anything then have it taunt you like this, really. You move in your spot on the bed.

“Maybe the fever is getting to your head, Matty.” There’s only so many more poor deflections you can make. He has to notice.

“Awh, you think so?” He pouts in faux sympathy, moving closer. You feel dizzy. You scooch back on the bed.

“Yeah- yeah, think so.”

He smirks. That bastard and his smirk. “Right, what a shame, terrible, really.” He’s up close and personal now. Right next to you. Hand on your face. He brushes a stray piece of hair to the back of your head. You two are looking at each other now. All eye contact.

“I- Matty.” You breathe out. This is all too much right now.

“Yes, what?” Matty sounds annoyed. Obviously wanting to have kissed you before you moved your neck back.

“Don’t think we can- think we should, you know. Don’t wanna ruin anything.”

He sighs. “Who made those shit rules up, huh? Maybe I wanna ruin our friendship? Ruin you, yeah?” His head falls into the crook of your neck, you feel his hot breath. “Think we should just stop with the bullshit. Wouldn’t mind being something other than friends.”

“Matty-“ “Y/N?” He interrupts your unheard sentence.

“Do ya like me? I’m being serious now, angel. Honest, do you fancy me or no?” You’re getting whiplash from this conversation. How is this happening. Why now? How, now?

“I- Matty, I think you know the answer.” you furrow your brows at him and pout. He has to be fucking with you, right?

“Maybe I wanna hear you say it?” He smirks, again. You’re sick of that smirk. You really do wanna kiss it off.

“Jesus, yes, I like you. Of course I do, Matty.”

“Hm, good. That’s good. ‘Cause I like you too, angel.” He gives a grin that makes him glow. A grin that is the personification of happiness. Matty leans in.

[shakespearean-dream]

last of the big five yall!!!!

happy late fourth of july! remember to keep boycotting, speak out and listen to palestinians, the people of congo, native americans, queer/trans people and women currently being oppressed this independence day because america fucking sucks!!! 🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅🦅🔥🔥🔥

here are a couple good places to donate! please remember to do your own research and take care of each other, it’s getting scary out here.

ohhhh nimdok, where to start with you….

i have been dreading doing him because he pisses me off so bad but i actually had some decent fun with him :D. designing him and branching out farther away from his canon self was nice, but im not touching his backstory or personality really, that stays about the same for me in my head.

speaking of whichhh! like benny, i understand how the game makers had a short amount of time to fit an entire character arc of an old man undoing his deeply internalized racism/xenophobia/ableism in a singular short scenario, but unlike benny i actually somehow like his better?? nimdok had a lot more to get over (well not saying being a dickhead murderer isn’t a lot but 😭) and i enjoyed seeing him actually help out the people he would’ve previously turned in. it still feels a little hollow/unrealistic because again, he’s been like this his whole life, but considering how much AM takes him away from the group to (most likely) psychologically torture him for his actions he’s probably had a bit of a revelation.

doing his scenario was unfortunately funny at times because of the strange way we had to go about redeeming him with the golem guy😭giving him a smooch caught me off guard but ykw? i’ll take it for being able to kill mengele like immediately afterward. also speaking of whichhhh…

i would go into more detail about nimdok and mengeles relationship to give it some depth because god i love me some queers, but that is??? a real fucking guy???? a real life monster???? im less than comfortable picturing the fucker in my mind, much less giving him depth with a character who i also don’t like. like why ship ur essentially OC with a REAL LIFE N/AZI??? just another one of the reasons harlan elision creeps me out. (if that just pissed you off google search him s/a-ing 2 people, marrying a 19 year old when he was in his 40s and defending a child r/apist i really don’t feel like arguing with you. the guy was a horrible fucking person and he makes me sick, i just like this franchise.)

i cannot cough up anymore thoughts about this fella pls forgive me; these past couple days have been rough on my 3 brain cells. AM will for sure be next and after that fully rendered/decked out full bodies are in order!! so look out for that:]]]] i may also start posting some art fight things since i was just complaining about the lag a post or so ago☺️ jk ily artfight. team seafoam lets goo

ok i love u guys!!! if u have any requests for me drop a comment or an ask, and thank you so much for the continued support on my art❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ lots of links on this post but one more quick reminder to take a look at my commission page if you’d like!!! yolanda is still in the shop because they cannot figure out what’s wrong with her :(

have a good night friends 🫶

[hellaverseconfessions1369420]

Long confession ahead, apologies in advance.

Look, I don't get heated about shipping. I like what I like, and I look at things I like. If I don't like whatever someone is posting, I'll filter the tags, and if they aren't using the tags appropriately, I will block them. It's fairly easy for me to avoid ships I personally dislike most of the time. I do all of the things I'm supposed to, and yet I'm still having this problem.

There is one singular ship on God's green earth that kills all of my enjoyment for both of the characters involved, and it is radioapple. I have never felt such strong emotions about any other ship before in any of the fandoms I'm part of. It's fucking everywhere. I genuinely cannot use this website if I want to see Lucifer or Alastor fanart/fanfic, and I'm not moving sites.

But God. I'm so fucking sick and tired of seeing "this post contains filtered content: #radioapple." When S1 first came out, I counted 37 blocked posts in a row on top of #Alastor on one given day. I had to scroll through 37 blocked fucking posts before I found ONE that wasn't about fucking radioapple. And that isn't counting all the OTHER Alastor ships, because of course that's all anyone gives a shit about anymore.

I'm on mobile, so I can't use browser extensions to make Tumblr's filtering system actually do what I want it to (delete every radioapple post, forever). I also don't feel like buying a laptop for fucking Tumblr. I've been getting back into HH after falling out of it for a while for related reasons, and I forgot how much angrier and more unhappy I am coming out of #Alastor or (to a lesser extent) #Lucifer than when I went in. Which is super awesome considering they're my two faves.

I wish I was kidding when I say I have actually cried real tears more than once over this. I'm aroace, and I thought maybe for once I'd get to feel at least a little bit included and represented in fandom as a whole. I thought having a canon aroace character would be that for me, at least one tag I could semi-comfortably browse and feel like I'm actually part of shit and not a spectator for once, but obviously not. I don't even get to look at fanart of a character I enjoy without being constantly reminded of how different and alone I am, even when that character is different in exactly the same way as me. Even characters like Alastor that are written to be like me aren't written for me. Because why would anyone create anything for someone like me to enjoy when they could instead jam a little more sex and romance in there?

I once scrolled through #Alastor blocking all the radioapple posters for so long that I reached the bottom of the page. Tumblr would not show me any more posts and I had to reload it. I blocked 209 different blogs, and it barely made a dent. 209. I can't curate my way out of this. I genuinely think I just don't get to like those characters anymore, and it fucking sucks. I want my deer man back.

TL;DR: I cannot enjoy these characters I deeply relate to with how prevalent and fucking inescapable this one ship is, and I'm not sure how to fix it. Frankly I'm not sure it's fixable, but I would love it if this wasn't something else I just don't get to have like everyone else. Someone tell me what to do about this. I want to have fun too.

I understand why you would think that. I’m probably aroaceflux and I can see some alastor in me (aroacewise, not serial killer wise) and why you wouldn’t want to see the ships you don’t like. Unfortunately that’s how many fandoms work, they’ll just keep shipping.

to be honest, I don’t know what to say, but thanks for the confession and I hope things get better for you

[daisynik7]

Rush

Chapter 10: Too Late

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: angst, mild violence at the very end of the chapter

Summary: You end it for good. Eren realizes something a little too late.  

Notes: Only one more regular chapter left! Can’t believe it’s almost over 😭. Song is “i don’t wanna fall in love, it’s too late now” by Chase Shakur.

Important Announcement: I will be taking a short break this weekend! I have a wedding to attend and it’s also a long weekend for me, so I will not be posting Chapter 11 until the following week (Sunday, February 26th, 9 PM PST).  Sorry for the wait and thank you in advanced for your patience! 

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I’m ending this. It’s over. You and me. We’re done.

Eren stares at her, dumbfounded, brain short circuiting trying to comprehend what she said.  

“What?” he sputters, sitting up on the bed, still naked, gleaming with sweat and slick from their love making just twenty minutes ago. 

“This is the last time. I’m done.”

He jumps off, adrenaline rushing through his body as he quickly slides into his briefs. “I don’t understand. Why? What did I do?” 

She drops her heels and purse onto the floor, crossing her arms. “Wow. It must be so nice living with this level of ignorance. Or maybe it’s selfishness, I don’t know anymore. But if you want me to spell it out for you, I can.”

He swallows hard, caught off guard by her flippant demeanor. “Is this because I didn’t take you to formal? I didn’t even dance with her – ”

“It’s not about formal, Eren!” she snaps. “It’s everything! The sneaking around, the manipulating, the disrespect. I can’t take it anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“You make me feel ashamed of myself. Make me feel worthless. You didn’t even want to be friends, you had to pretend that I didn’t fucking exist. All you want me for is sex, that’s the only way you acknowledge me. I’m not a fucking sex toy. I’m a human fucking being.”

He’s never seen her so angry. There’s a lump in his throat, making it difficult for him to speak. In a quiet voice, he explains,  “I didn’t mean for you to feel that way. I told you, I’m just not ready for people to know about us yet.” It’s a half-assed excuse, he knows that. He never thought about how she was feeling. Or maybe he was too selfish to think about it. 

“So you’d rather ignore me than have people know we’re together? Do you realize how fucked up that is? Are you that embarrassed of me? Am I only good enough to fuck and that’s it?” Tears well up in her eyes. She wipes them away before they fall down her cheek. There’s a tightness in his chest engulfing him watching her cry like this.

“No, I –“ he starts, incapable of articulating what he wants to say into words. Instead, he begs, “Can we please go to bed? I promise, everything will be okay in the morning.”

She takes a few deep breaths, responding, “I’m sick of waiting around for everything to be okay. Waiting for you to get over yourself. It’s a waste of time. It’s not fun anymore. I’m unhappy. When I’m with you, I feel gross and dirty. I don’t feel like myself.”

The realization hits as she bares her all to him. She’s hurt. She’s been hurting. And he’s responsible for it. He’s the cause of the pain and anguish that she’s been forced to endure until it became overwhelming. Until her delicate heart couldn’t take it anymore. It’s all his fault. 

He reaches out to hold her, console her in the only way he knows how. She flinches away from him, disgusted. “Don’t touch me. You don’t get to touch me anymore.”

In his mind, he only remembers the good memories. The ecstasy, the euphoria, the thrill of sneaking around and indulging in his carnal desires. He turned a blind eye to her obvious apprehension when he first suggested they keep it all a secret. Perhaps he wasn’t blind at all; he saw it but chose to disregard it. Convinced himself that he was doing what was best for himself, and not for the both of them. He’s always been aware how selfish he can be; this is a new low that even he didn’t think he’d stoop to.

She bends down to retrieve her belongings from the floor. Without looking at him, she asks, “Do you even like me, Eren?”

The question stuns him. He’s frozen, voice caught in his throat. Every part of his being is yelling at him to confess what he’s been too afraid to say. Has he even admitted it to himself? His overbearing ego won’t let him. He’s too much of a fucking coward. Jaw tight, staring at anywhere except her, he remains silent. Too fucking scared to face the truth. He’s still trying to tell himself that the feelings he has for her are lust, nothing more. So why does it hurt so much knowing she’s ending it?

“That’s what I thought. I get it now. It was all pretend just to fuck me. To use me. Well, congratulations. You got what you wanted. I hope you’re happy.”

Eren stays in place, feet rooted to the carpet, listening to her walk away and undo the double locks on the door. Before turning the handle, he hears her take a staggered breath. The door shuts with a loud thud and she’s gone. 

~~~

You exit the room, taking in a deep breath. It’s over. You did it. 

A few minutes later, you find yourself in front of Room 310, laughter audible through the walls. After several knocks, Hitch opens the door, dressed in her pajamas. In the background, you see Annie, Connie, and Armin, also in their PJs, playing cards on one of the beds.

Hitch looks at you, worried. “What are you doing here?”

Annie rises from the bed and stands behind her, staring at you intently. 

“It’s over. I ended it.”

Both of their eyes widen. Annie pushes you into the hall, Hitch following, shutting the door. 

“Are you okay?” Hitch asks.

“Yeah, I think so. Can I stay in your room for the night? I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

“Of course. Let’s go get your stuff.”

You nod, leading them down the hallway into your room, where Mike is sprawled out on the bed, having the best sleep of his life. After refilling his nearly empty glass of water, you quietly grab your bag and tiptoe back into the hallway. 

Back in Room 310, you change into comfortable clothes and lounge on one of the beds, emotionally exhausted. Armin and Connie don’t question your sudden presence, which is appreciated. The next few hours pass, letting yourself get distracted by card games and idle gossip amongst your friends. At around 2 AM, the boys fall sleep next to each other on one bed while you, Annie, and Hitch snuggle together in the other. Once they’re snoring, Annie nudges you, whispering, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You’re bundled between them, comfortable in their warmth and concern. “Yeah. Actually, I think I’m good.” 

She snorts. “God, I would kill to see what that asshole’s face looked like when you told him.”

“He seemed pretty shocked,” you mention, recalling the way he started sputtering at you. Your body was surging with adrenaline that you didn’t have a chance to process his reactions properly. “He didn’t really say much though. Maybe he’s relieved that it’s over.”

“I don’t think so. I bet he’s more heartbroken about it than you think,” Hitch says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze

“I doubt it.”

“Either way, it’s done. No more sneaking around, no more drama.”

“Yeah,” you smile. “Good riddance.” 

Around 9:00 AM, you wake up and sneak out of the room, sending a short text to Annie letting her know you’re leaving. At the café downstairs, you order a breakfast burrito and coffee to-go. In your room, you find Mike awake, lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone. His face brightens when he sees you walk in, goodies in hand.

“Hey,” he greets, voice hoarse from his hangover.

“Good morning, handsome. Here.” You set the breakfast burrito on the nightstand, where he peers at it, smiling. 

“You remembered,” he grins, eyes twinkling with delight.

“Of course. Also,” you reach into your pocket for a small pack of painkillers. “Some aspirin, in case you’re hurting.”

He chuckles, accepting it. “Thank you. I’m sorry I was such a bad date last night.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I forced you to bring me.” You sit at the edge of the bed, grinning at him.

“Well, regardless, I’m happy I brought you.” He places his hand on top of yours, brushing his thumb gently against your skin suggestively. “Can I make it up to you before we check out?”

“Mike, you are the sweetest. But I need to focus on myself for a while. I think I need to be alone for a bit to figure some stuff out.”

He sighs. “I get it. As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.” 

You gaze at him affectionately, almost wishing you had a time machine to go back and re-do your entire semester with Mike instead of Eren. Mike deserves to be doted on one thousand percent, and even if you could reverse time, you’re not sure if you could give that to him.

“Can I at least get one last kiss?” he asks, that charming smirk on his face. 

Giggling, you lean forward, kissing him. “You definitely need to brush your teeth,” you tease.

“Yep, I just got a whiff myself. I am so sorry. I’ll shower and brush first, then I’ll dive into this delicious burrito.” He gives you a quick peck on the cheek, skipping to the bathroom to start the shower. 

Falling against the bedsheets, you stare at the ceiling, pondering. Did your words leave any effect on Eren? He stood there, gawking at you, a dense look on his face. Was it shock? Or does he really not give a shit?

While it was satisfying to let it out, you can’t help being a little heartbroken. You wanted so badly for it to work, for him to like you back. For it to turn into something real. There were moments together that gave you that rush of falling in love. It was electrifying. Exhilarating. To experience it first-hand, even for a few fleeting moments, makes you not regret it entirely.   

Confirming that it was all a sham is a difficult truth to swallow. It’s your own fault for disregarding the red flags, ignoring Annie’s warnings, pretending everything was fine when it never was. The only other peace you can gather from all of this is learning from your mistakes. You’re determined to never give yourself to someone who isn’t willing to accept all of you. 

When Mike is clean and fresh out of the shower, he devours his breakfast in a few large bites. Once he’s done, the two of you pack your belongings and tidy up, checking out of the room to catch the first bus. Downstairs in the lobby, you spot Annie and Hitch, sipping on their iced coffees next to Armin and Connie. You part ways, leaving him with the other upperclassmen so you can join your friends. 

Hitch offers you the remaining drink on the tray. “Morning,” she smiles. 

You thank her, sipping on your second coffee of the day, listening to them chat with each other. It could be the caffeine rush, or the adrenaline from last night. Either way, you feel rejuvenated and refreshed. A new beginning. A clean slate. 

It doesn’t last long, however. Halfway through your coffee, distracted by your phone, you hear Annie ask in a stern voice, “What do you want now?”

You tilt your head up to investigate, finding Eren standing in front of her.

~~~

Eren wakes up at the end of the bed, legs dangling off the edge. Body slouched against the sheets, feet settled on the carpet flooring. Ready to open the door if she ever returns. She never does. 

He fetches his phone off the floor, which fell from his hand overnight. Scanning his notifications, he sees no responses, no call backs. He reviews the series of text messages he bombarded her with, several minutes after her departure:

Eren: Hey

Eren: Please come back

Eren: Let’s talk

Eren: I don’t want this to end yet

Eren: come back

Eren: I’m sorry

Eren: Please talk to me

It doesn’t seem like the messages have been delivered; she must have blocked him. None of the calls he made went through, sending him straight to the generic voicemail that informs him that the number he has dialed is unavailable. He attempted at least ten calls to her last night, desperate to regain control of a situation that exploded in his face. One that he was severely unprepared to handle.

When the sun rises and a stream of daylight shimmers past the curtains, he gets up, having barely slept. He feels like shit. Mentally, physically, emotionally. Is this how he made her feel whenever they were together? After disappointing her time and time again? 

Moments before she left him, he had a breakthrough. He was willing to commit to her, after being indecisive for so long. He allowed himself to be vulnerable, declaring I’m yours, I’m all yours. But it was too late. The contempt on her face as she exposed him for all his filth is cemented in his mind. The tears falling from her eyes, the disgust in her face when he reached out to her. The guilt eats away at him, knowing he’s the whole reason behind it. 

Groggy and exhausted, he stumbles into the shower, the hot steam not enough to fill the emptiness consuming his insides. It’s obvious now what he did wrong. He dangled the promise of a real relationship in front of her, toying with her emotions until she finally snapped. He thought he could get away with it, keep her around while he figured out what he wants to do. Not once did he consider her ending it first. He seriously underestimated her.

Maybe it’s better this way. He always planned to end it eventually. He never could bring himself to do it, though. There’s always been a small part of him that wanted to hold onto her for a bit longer. 

Packed and ready to check out, he heads downstairs to the hotel lobby, waiting for the first bus to arrive. Armin spots him, waving him over to the couch he’s currently lounging on. “Eren!” 

“Hey Armin,” he greets, sitting beside him. 

“God, you look awful,” Armin blurts, studying his face. 

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Eren admits, conscious of the dark circles under his eyes. Trying to change the subject, he asks, “What did you do last night? After formal?”

Smiling, Armin replies, “We hung out in our room. It was fun.”

“Who was all there?”

Armin lists names, the last being hers. Eren lifts his head up, alert. “She was with you last night?”

Confused, he answers, “Yeah, she was.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

“Um, probably checking out of her room with Mike. Why?” 

“I have to talk to her. I need to see her. Do you know if she’s riding the first bus with us?”

“Uh, I have no idea,” he responds, still perplexed. “Why do you have to talk to her? I didn’t realize you two talked.”

Connie appears and places himself next to Armin, sipping on a coffee cup. “The girls are waiting for the iced coffees. Oh hey, Eren! What’s up man? You look like shit.”

Annoyed, Eren stands and walks away, heading towards the café at the other side of the lobby. He sees Annie and Hitch, waiting for their order at the other side of the register. 

“Annie.”

Both girls turn around to face him, Hitch surprised, Annie pissed. “What is it, Jaeger?”

“Where is she?”

Annie smirks. “Who?”

“Stop playing dumb. Armin told me she was with you last night. Where is she?”

Hitch chimes in, “Why do you want to know?”

“I need to talk to her.”

“It’s over, Eren. Leave her alone,” Annie says, glaring at him. “She doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

“You don’t know what she wants.”

“And you do? Are you fucking kidding me?” She steps towards him, ready to fight. 

Hitch holds her by the shoulders, whispering, “Annie, don’t.”

He moves back, waving his hands. “Look, I just want to speak to her. Make this right.”

She scoffs. “It’s too late for that, Jaeger. It is way too late for that.”

The barista calls out a number and Annie heads to the counter to retrieve the drinks, leaving Eren alone with Hitch.

“She liked you, you know,” Hitch says quietly. “She really liked you.”

He stares at her, unsure how to respond.

“And she thought that maybe you liked her too.”

“I – ”

“You shouldn’t treat people you care about like that.”

Before he can say anything else, Annie returns, a tray of drinks in her hand. “Let’s go, Hitch. I can’t stand being around this loser any longer.” They both leave, heading for Armin and Connie on the couch. 

Eren scratches his head, feeling worse than he did just a few minutes ago. He’s not exactly sure what his plan is. All he knows is that he needs to do some damage control. He never wanted them to be on bad terms. With the way he acted, he realizes now how he set them up for failure. How could he think casting her aside as his dirty little secret would ever end well?

He discovers another couch to sit at while he waits, checking his phone to see if she somehow miraculously unblocked him. No luck. A beacon of hope arrives when he spots her coming out of the elevator, making her way towards Annie and Hitch. Desperate, he makes his way to them, praying that somehow, she’ll find it in her heart to listen to him. 

As he approaches them, Annie sneers, “What do you want now?”

He cranes his neck to peer past them, trying to get a good look at her. She faces him once Annie speaks, blinking as if she’s not seeing him correctly.

Hitch and Annie huddle closer together, blocking her from his view. “What do you want, Jaeger?” Annie repeats, tone more threatening. 

“I need to talk to her.”

“No.”

“Just leave her alone, Eren.”

Armin and Connie observe them, bewildered. “What’s going on?”

Ignoring his brothers, he repeats, “Please. I need to talk to her.”

“Eren, stop. There’s nothing else that needs to be said. It’s over,” Hitch reiterates, standing firm in place. 

“Jaeger, seriously. It’s getting creepy.”

“I just want to talk to her, okay?” He tries to push his way past the two girls, reaching for her. “I need to talk to you, sweetie. Please.”

“She’s not your sweetie anymore, Jaeger. Give it up!” Annie shoves him, causing him to back up against Armin. 

Suddenly, Reiner appears, walking towards them, Bertolt close beside him. “What the hell is going on? Why did she shove you, Eren?”

He stands up straight, clearing his throat. “I…I need…It’s nothing. It was a misunderstanding.”

Annie scoffs. “Oh, now you’re afraid to talk? Weren’t you just harassing us about how much you need to talk to her – ”

Reiner interrupts, “Shut up, Annie. Let’s go, Eren. The bus is here. Leave these fucking losers.” He clutches Eren by the scruff and drags him outside towards the bus, watching her eyes follow him out the door. 

~~~

Stomping her foot on the floor, Annie growls under her breath, “Fucking assholes.”

Hitch faces you. “Hey, are you alright?”

You swallow hard, replying, “Yeah. That was…weird.”

“He was looking for you earlier too,” she mentions. “Said he wants to talk to you and make things right.”

“If he really wants to make things right, why didn’t he say anything yesterday?” It’s a rhetorical question that you don’t expect anyone except him to know the answer too. You’re not sure if he knows himself. 

For a moment, you pity him. You’ve never heard him so desperate. The moment passes once Reiner comes into the picture. And Eren is back to his usual self, too scared to show weakness in front of his big brother. It’s pathetic. 

Armin and Connie whisper to each other, understandably puzzled by what just occurred in front of them. Thankfully, they don’t go directly to you asking any questions, letting Annie and Hitch conjure a story to appease their suspicions. 

You’re tempted to wait the extra half hour for the other bus to avoid another awkward interaction, but you ultimately decide to board with the rest of your friends. Eren is already sitting in his own seat, the hood of his sweatshirt on, headphones covering his ears. He gives you a swift glance before focusing his attention to his phone. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping the rest of the trip goes smoothly, and he doesn’t decide to do anything erratic.  

You sit near the rear, occupying a seat to yourself. You notice him sneak peeks at you every few minutes. The whole ride, you’re anxious about him getting up and ambushing you. Thankfully, he never does. 

Back on campus, you dawdle, waiting for him to leave first. Outside, waiting for your bag to be unloaded, Eren doesn’t approach you, deterred by the overbearing presence of big brother Reiner. This might be the only instance in your life that you’ve ever been grateful for that asshole’s company. Once you get sight of your bag, you quickly grab it and hustle out of there, straight for your dorm room. 

Why is he still trying to speak to you? Is guilt eating away at him? Does he want to apologize? Could it be that he finally realizes he has feelings for you? Whatever the reason, you tell yourself not to reflect on it too much. If you continue to hope that there’s something there, you’ll never be able to move on from him. 

The warning signs were always present. Mikasa addressed it earlier in the semester. He’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants, and sometimes he doesn’t think about how his actions can hurt people. He can be a little selfish. At the time, you brushed it aside, convinced that there weren’t enough feelings involved to get hurt. Now, as you climb your way out of the deep pit you dug yourself in, you wish you took her words seriously. 

She arrives to the room about an hour later. “Hey, roomie. Want to get lunch with us? Jean and I are getting burgers.”

You’re in bed, lazy, lost in thought, and quite frankly exhausted. “I’m not that hungry, so go without me. Thanks anyways.”

“Are you okay? You look sad.”

You sit up, putting on the best smile you can. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

She seems skeptical, but relents, saying, “Well I can’t wait to catch up later. I didn’t see you at the end of the night.”

“I went back to the room with Mike and ending up falling asleep,” you lie. 

“I see. Anyways, let’s talk later. Jean’s waiting for me outside.”

When she’s back from lunch, you and Mikasa chat about your formal experiences, purposefully omitting any and all details about Eren. Now that it’s officially over, there’s no reason to tell her about it. After all that has happened, you don’t hate him enough to tarnish his reputation to his childhood friend. You don’t have it in you to hate him at all. 

~~~

The following week on Sunday night, Eren finds himself lying in bed yet again, belly full of his third instant ramen of the day. Too miserable to leave his room and eat a substantial meal. 

The first part of the week, he was okay. Classes and three-hour workouts at the gym served as a proper distraction. He pretended to be fine with it. Tried to convince himself that it’s better this way. He’s free to do anything and anyone he wants, like he always planned. 

It only lasted a few days until he started getting in his own head again, feeling sorry for himself, missing her immensely now that he no longer has her. Thursday, he retreated to the comfort of his own bed, the one place that still smells like her, just barely. 

He fucked it all up; he knows that. Her words echo in his head constantly, reminding him how awful he’s been the past few months. How selfish he is for not thinking for a second how his actions hurt her. He’ll never forgive himself for making her doubt her worth, for being the cause behind her heartache. 

It’s too late to take it all back. Too late to rewind and do things right. He’s living with the consequences of his decisions. Suffering the punishment that the universe is dealing him, and rightfully so. He deserves this. 

It was never in his plan to fall for her; even with this, it’s too late. It wasn’t evident to him before. Now, as he buries his nose into the pillow, desperate for any trace of her, it’s clear as day. He likes her. 

Has it been building up this entire time right under his nose? He was so confident he had control of his emotions; thought he could play it cool. Keep it casual, no strings attached. All while he kept ignoring the pleasant swell in his chest every time he was with her. Downplaying how utterly attracted he was to every part of her.

Eren despises clichés; however, the phrase you don’t know what you have until it’s gone keeps popping up in his mind. He took her for granted. He was so sure she would never leave, certain he had her wrapped around his finger. Confident that he had total control of the situation. How wrong he was. 

Armin notices his sudden change in behavior. For the most part, his roommate leaves him alone to wallow in his own self-pity. Tonight, he doesn’t.

“Eren, are you going to chapter tonight?”

“No,” he responds, remaining under the covers.

“You can’t miss two chapters in a row without a formal excuse. You skipped last week already. Pledges who miss two chapters in a row will be reprimanded.”

He’s annoyed having to hear Armin explain the rules to him. “Make up an excuse for me.”

“Eren, seriously. What’s wrong? You’ve been moping all week, ever since formal. What happened to you?”

The truth is at the tip of his tongue.��I’m a fuck up. A major fuck up. I fucked up everything. He wants to spill it to his best friend, seek advice and find comfort that he knows Armin can offer him. Instead, he stays silent, wrapping himself tighter in his blanket.

“Please come to chapter tonight. It’ll be good to get out of the room. See some people.”

It takes a few minutes, but Eren reluctantly leaves and takes a much needed shower. In order to redeem himself, he has to be honest with her. No more lies, no more manipulation. He has to wear his heart of his sleeve, as she did for him. It’s still not enough, but maybe it’s a start. She still has him blocked in all forms of communication. And nobody else in his life knows about their secret affair, aside from Annie and Hitch, who he is certain will not lend a helping hand. Getting out of bed seems like the first step to putting this new plan into action.

His roommate waits for him to walk to the Alpha Tau house together. There, he is greeted by his pledge brothers, to which he tries his best to appear normal. 

At chapter, he sinks into his seat, barely listening to the agenda. Racking his brain for any inspiration on how to fix the mess he created. Near the end, Erwin announces something that does spark his interest. 

“Next semester, we are going to elect a new sweetheart for Alpha Tau. For those of you who don’t know, a sweetheart is a woman who represents the fraternity and all of our values. She will become an honorary member of our organization, partaking in our many events, including fundraisers and social gatherings. We want someone who is friendly, kind-hearted, and involved on campus. Historically, they are affiliated with a sorority, though not required. Unfortunately, due to last semester’s troubles, our last sweetheart withdrew from her position, which is completely understandable. Now that we are back in the good graces of the university and the other organizations, I believe it is a great time to elect a new sweetheart.” 

Levi adds, “Girlfriends are allowed to be nominated. Keep in mind, we as a fraternity will be voting on who will be the sweetheart, majority rules. Please don’t take it personally if your girlfriend is not selected.”

Erwin shuffles through his papers, ready to jot down some notes. “Alright. Any nominations?”

Immediately, Jean rises from his seat to nominate Mikasa. Armin grins, seemingly supportive of this suggestion.  

Slouched in his seat, Reiner yells out, “Sandra, from Delta Mu.” 

Erwin notes this. “Anyone else?”

Sweetheart. The only person Eren can think of who encompasses that title is her. On impulse, he sticks his hand and nominates her.

Armin turns to stare at him, baffled. Reiner cranes his neck to leer at him, repulsion and confusion etched on his face. 

Mike whoops and yells out, “I second that nomination. I didn’t know you two were friends, Eren. Good shit.”

He ignores Mike’s comments and bows his head towards the floor, avoiding the stares from his best friend and big brother. A few more women are suggested before the meeting ends. 

Armin follows Eren down the stairs, whispering, “Why did you nominate her? I didn’t even know you two were friends.”

They stand in the living room, slightly away from the crowd of brothers gathering near the TV to watch the end of a basketball game. In a soft voice, Eren responds, “Well, we aren’t friends necessarily. It’s complicated, but I can explain. For the past few months, her and I have been – ”

“Eren, what the actual fuck, man?” Reiner interrupts, his tone loud and obnoxious as he descends the stairs, Bertolt tailing him, per usual. “Have you lost your fucking mind? You picked a Sigma Nu Kappa? What the fuck?”

Armin intervenes. “Reiner, calm down – ”

“I’m not talking to you Arlert, shut the fuck up. Eren, why did you nominate that Sigma Nu Kappa?” 

He doesn’t respond, annoyed and fed up with Reiner’s constant hostility and outrageous behavior, especially now. Bertolt stays behind him with the same pathetic expression, always hovering his best friend like a lost puppy dog.  

“I knew it. You’re fucking her aren’t you?”

Eren glares at him, muscles tense, fists tight. He grits his teeth, keeping silent.

Reiner continues. “I saw you two at formal, outside the bathrooms. Think you’re slick, don’t you?”

“Formal?” Armin interjects, the pieces starting to align in his head.

“Figured you were too drunk to care, so I let it slide. Then all that shit happened with Annie. Then I knew something was going on.”

Armin twists his head back and forth between the two brothers, unsure how to alleviate the situation. Eren still doesn’t respond, cheeks hot, eyes narrowed, fingertips tingling. Listening with disdain as Reiner continues to berate him.

“And tonight. Jesus fucking Christ, Eren. You disappoint me. Of all the girls you could have fucked, you had to choose her. What a goddamn shame.”

He clenches his fists tight, disgusted by every word this comes out of this fucking prick’s mouth, as if he’s hearing this type of shit talk for the first time. However, it’s worse now than it’s ever been before. It’s personal.

“All these hot sorority girls and you choose an ugly Sigma Nu Kappa bitch – ”

Bam.

Like a crack of thunder, Eren’s knuckles connect with Reiner’s jaw.

~~~

You’re in pajamas browsing the Internet on your laptop when you hear Mikasa gasp in bed across from you. You watch her, concerned, as she hops off, hastily changing into sweats.

“I have to go,” she announces, scrambling to collect her keys.

“Are you okay? What’s happening?” you ask, sitting up.

With a somber expression on her face, she says, “Armin just texted me. Eren got kicked out of Alpha Tau.”

----------

End Notes: See you back in two weeks for the finale of Rush! 

----------

Tag List:

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[crguang]

ok so I was thinking abt how kafka does drunk babbling abt r but what if like kfr is at like a club or smth, they’re drinking wtv maybe acheswan is there too and Kafka steps out for like a smoke break or smth idk, and r goes out to check on her or smth but Kafka thinks it’s like another memory, where r was checking on her when they were kids or smth. Idk where this is rlly going but maybe r realizes that Kafka missed them (crazy concept ik) and they have a very angsty convo abt the past.

also was rereading the first violinist au post and they were eachothers first kiss when they were younger??? I always love that w childhood friends and they never talk abt it.

Idk I feel like they need smth to make them talk abt all the shit that happened in the past (cough cough elio cough) and I just need r to find out that Kafka literally thinks abt them every time she plays her instrument.

will send u the drawing somehow whenever im finished (I got sick and am dying) might redo it bc it doesn’t rlly look like Kafka, the google searches for references is very funny tho.

happy holidays <3 (hope u got those headphones bc that playlist…omg)

-🌠

okay well now i need that club scene. their big Talk is happening in r’s teenage bedroom after a (eventful) dinner with r’s family. please trust me on this yall like it’s them sharing a bed for the first time since they were kids and confessing to each other how they felt after the 607 Bus Breakup pleaseee it’s gonna be so detrimental to their relationship… but i really like the idea of their friend group going out before that just to have fun now that theyre all adults and r getting a bit tipsy, kafka’s downing drinks to avoid the atmosphere getting awkward and then finding each other in the back alley of the bar with only a single light source illuminating half of their faces as they let slip that they’ve missed the other. ugh… yeah i need that. but i need their actual conversation so be when they’re both sober and in a familiar and/or safe space for the both of them

they were each other’s first kiss yeah. i haven’t actually thought about it more but to me it just makes sense. they were the “kissing to practice/see what its like” kind of best friends. it likely happened really young like at 12 years old or something and that’s why they don’t mention it anymore but trust— the first time they kiss in present time they’re both seeing fireworks. they’re a lot more experienced and the act comes with deep seated feelings now so it’s kinda life changing for them. my losers💔

i hope youre feeling better!! wishing u a speedy recovery if you’re not <3 i ordered headphones days ago, they should be there next week tho. so i have yet to listen to the kfr playlist in full but i’m impatiently awaiting the moment i can

[boundbyeclipse]

📬

alright, since i’m so open with you all on this app, i think it’s best if i talk about my struggles and let myself be heard. considering my previous post about my roommate/friend, this one will be exactly about our journey that began a few years back. i’ll warn you, this post is very open and honest, and also quite long. if you are willing to read everything - thank you for your time. now let me start.

so, four years ago, 2019, at the end of summer, we both moved in together to another city, away from our parents and out of our hometown. we have always joked about living together, but didn’t think it would come true. well, it did. i guess it was just meant to happen. everything was good for the first two years, we spent so much time together, even worked at the same place, until she met this guy. well, it was a messy situationship but i won’t get into details about it out of respect. the important part is, when she started dating him, there no longer was any proper girl time. whenever we decided to watch a movie, or do something together, it would just always end up with her dashing through the door just to see that guy. or he would come over and the “party” would be over in a second. it always happened like that. and what hurt me the most, (i remember this like it happened yesterday) was one time, we were drinking wine, and dancing, just having fun. and me being an emotional person, (ofc the alcohol affected me even more) i began to cry so hard because i felt lonely (relationship wise). she patted my back, told me that i will find someone one day. but then, suddenly she gets a text from him and rushes to get ready to go to his place. so she leaves. i’m all alone. i’m crying sitting on the FLOOR. and it’s all because she was so naive and needed sex. i understand, first boyfriend, falling head over heels and all that stuff causes you to be naive, but it shouldn’t cross the line to the point where you totally ignore your best fucking friend who needs a person by their side. i felt so abandoned, so sick to my stomach, because the ONLY person i relied on and trusted so much did that to me. and even if i managed to kind of cool down and lowkey forgive her for that (i never actually talked to her about that night), i still remember it. i don’t think that’s what best friends do.

next, some time after that, i fell into a bad place again, i left that job, wanted to find a new one, and it took me a bit of time to achieve that. but during the time while i wasn’t working, my mom offered me to move out and go back to my hometown. i said no, because i didn’t want to go, i liked it here and i liked the fact that i had my private space and could explore a city that i wasn’t familiar with before coming here. she begged me to stay here because she would not have known what to do with the rent. and since we pay it in half, she would have to pay the full rent until a new person was found if i left. so i stayed for me and for HER.

two more years passed by, and i’m in a very similar situation right now. i haven’t gotten any luck with finding a new job. it’s a struggle. and what does she do this time? she tells me “this is the last month you’re living here if you can’t get a job”. and it’s not on me if nobody is interested in calling me for an interview, right? 11 applications, but 0 calls. am i at fault here? no. so now she basically threatens me with kicking me out?? no problem, i’m packing my bags day by day, because this is not what i want anymore. yes, starting life in a different location was always exciting, but i’ve gotten sick of it. i miss my family. i miss my home. and it doesn’t matter if i have gotten used to this city, this apartment, this lifestyle, i just feel like i don’t belong here anymore. my gut is telling me “go, you’ll be better off back HOME” and i cannot keep ignoring it.

i also just had her talk about me in the kitchen like i’m not home or can’t hear her. and what i hate the most is that she never talks to me about any issue eye to eye. it’s always behind my back or through the texts. if you are that unsatisfied with how things are going for me and how my mental health is, talk to me in person. no friend goes around and talks about their friend who’s so close to them behind their back. this is completely unacceptable and disrespectful.

so, i have been gathering my things and i am getting ready to move out. it’s time. and yes, i will have to start everything from zero, but if that’s what i feel like is best to do, i’m going to do it.

if you made it this far - thank you for your time. i just wanted to pour my emotions out and tell my beloved mutuals what i’ve been going through. thank you everyone 🤍

[zombubble]

From In Memory; In Truth Chapter 13:

“It’s my job to help make running the sect easier, right?” Mo Xuanyu asks. “Not your job, anymore,” Jin Guangyao says, “but a favor that Gege would appreciate greatly. Do you think you can keep a secret for me?” A jolt of something in Mo Xuanyu’s core, the words familiar in all the wrong ways. Oh, he feels sick. Really fucking sick. “Of course,” he says, closing his eyes. Breathing. “A-Yu? Have I upset you?” Jin Guangyao stops him, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Gege is sorry, he didn’t mean—” “I’m just… seeing things,” Mo Xuanyu says. “Sorry, I—I didn’t want to appear weak, but I…” “Oh. That’s… It’s okay. Gege doesn’t think less of you. Why don’t you rest? I’ll come see you later about everything; there’s no rush.” Nodding, Mo Xuanyu bows his thanks to his brother. Lets a-Zhen lead him away. Tries not to get sick while they walk because his mind is reeling and everything is cold and hot and he doesn’t—doesn’t know what—why—when this happened but something happened. Something that started with words much like those. Not for the first time, he fears the full, unknown extent of what he’s gotten himself into. Not for the last time, he tells himself to stay strong, that he needs to help, that he can do this.

Got this snippet in the post in time, but then I realized this was the perfect moment to go into how Mo Xuanyu is characterized/portrayed in this fic, and it ended up taking me some time to write that up.

Given how little we know of Mo Xuanyu's particular brand of neurodivergence in MDZS, I've decided to put him on the schizophrenia spectrum, he has psychotic episodes, but does not have paranoia, (and believe me, I'm doing literally everything in my power to do this with respect to schizophrenic and psychotic buds out there, I don't want to do any of you dirty with this, you deserve better). He does have auditory, olfactory, and visual hallucinations throughout the fic, which get worse over time as he is under more and more stress.

In this scene, however, he's also lying to his brother and playing it up so Jin Guangyao underestimates him for his own reasons.

CW for nonspecific mentions of sanism, ableism, and various forms of abuse and discussions of consent following this, as I am going into a little bit of detail about how I've chosen to portray Mo Xuanyu, so people know what to expect from this fic with him being such a major character.

The tl;dr is Mo Xuanyu is treated with dignity and respect by those working alongside him, and is given adult levels of agency throughout the fic's present timeline. His mental illness is acknowledged and described, but not made fun of within or by the narrative. It is not considered a character flaw, but a disability, and I've tried to portray it respectfully. While some characters are sanist/ableist both to and about him, they are not major characters, nor are they in control of him. There are mentions of past abuse, but he gets good medical care throughout the fic. He is an important character with major positive contributions, could not be removed or switched out for another without drastic changes, and gets the happy ending he deserves (without a magic cure).

More on how I'm handling Mo Xuanyu after the cut (a little spoilery, but I've kept it as vague as possible. See above content warnings):

I don't want to spoil the plot too much in public, though I'm happy to answer questions privately via message or ask, but I will say up front that Mo Xuanyu is, very intentionally on my part, given adult levels of agency throughout the fic in decisions both big and small.

There are (brief) mentions of him being treated badly in the past, including not giving consent (informed or otherwise) to medicine/medical procedures and other instances of abuse similar to canon, including being relocated and restrained against his will, but within the present timeline of the fic he is under the purview of the Nie Sect and working with a doctor with whom he has a good, mutually respectful relationship.

He makes his own decisions (and has established plans for what he wants done when he's unable to do so safely), gives informed consent to all instances of medication and relocation that happen during the present timeline of the fic itself, and is treated respectfully by the people he's working with. Like Jin Guangyao above, some people make ableist (and sanist) assumptions (and commentary) both to and about him, and he does personally lean into those assumptions for the purposes of making people underestimate him.

Those who are working with him and care about him only play up his mental illness with his prior input, consent and at his behest, and these instances are few, far between, for the purposes of the mission they're on, and never used as the butt of a joke, or done in a mocking way.

Mo Xuanyu has a solid, well-developed personality outside of his mental illness, though does talk casually and frankly about the symptoms he experiences, including hallucinations and his disconnect from reality. He doesn't enjoy having symptoms, but he does not have a self-pitying or self-loathing inner monologue. Though sometimes he tries to hide his symptoms from others (and, at times, fails), he does not make a habit of minimizing them (or exaggerating them) when he's describing them seriously.

When he does speak lightly of them, it's not mocking, and I intentionally avoided anything that sounded like it might come across as "LoL so random omg!" types of humor. Overall, though, he typically refuses to go into details with others, though his inner narration in his pov does, on occasion, describe what he's seeing, hearing, or smelling, without lingering too long on the descriptions.

His visual hallucinations edge more towards abject horror (monsters, things moving that shouldn't be moving in the ways they're moving, people looking dead/like ghosts with unnatural features (pure black, bleeding eyes, far too many sharp, non-human teeth, as a few examples)) instead of utilizing potentially-real facial/muscular/skeletal differences or movement disorders for shock value.

I do not portray him as someone bloodthirsty or irrational when it comes to killing. He wanted his family dead for the abuse they caused, he wants his brother dead (and wishes he didn't) for various shitty actions at various times. With everyone else, he's kind of just trying to keep to himself (or, when he can, be helpful to the people he gets along well with) and not get involved with any more conflict than he has to. He does not kill anyone in the course of the fic.

Jin Ling has a bit of trouble understanding at first, but does make efforts to be respectful and he improves over time. They end up growing close, and Jin Ling is not distrustful of Mo Xuanyu by the end of the story. The other juniors are similarly respectful.

The help Mo Xuanyu offers everyone is a) help only he could give, utilizing his skills and/or achievements specifically (e.g. making arrays/talismans a certain way, other forms of espionage that rely on his ability to lie and/or memorize information) and b) crucial to many of the successes they have. He is an essential member of the core cast of this fic, and it would be markedly changed if I were to remove him or switch him for someone else.

Mo Xuanyu does not die, nor does he get cured at the end of the fic. He ends up in a loving, mutually respectful relationship where his agency is respected, with a man who understands full well that loving Mo Xuanyu includes accepting his schizophrenia, psychosis, and the symptoms thereof. While Mo Xuanyu is doing better at the end than he was just before the end, it's because he's in a stable home and being treated by medical staff, rather than a magical cure.

[maccreadysbaby]

how do I write a character with emetophobia?

Writing Characters with Emetophobia!

from your neighborhood emetophobia haver, aka me!

TW for emetophobia things under the cut (emetophobia is a fear of vomit or vomiting)

so you want your character to have some quirky fear, and the fear of puking is what you landed on! I’m here to tell you what it’s like to have severe emetophobia and what that entails for my life. all of these struggles and symptoms are personal and doesn’t apply to everyone with emetophobia. it is a very individual phobia, this is just how my body and mind reacts

Living with Emetophobia ↴

this post has no real structure, it’s more or less just things that have happened to me. i’ve had this phobia since my inception, so here’s a list of things your characters with emetophobia might do.

Avoiding foods or actions that (probably won’t, but could) trigger sickness: I was terrified to eat anything that contained dairy because — one singular time — I heard that milk makes you throw up if you have a fever and I swore it off from the time I was 8 until I was about 12. I was literally nine years old reading labels in the store for dairy and violently throwing it back on the shelves if it contained it. Not to mention my mother was lactose intolerant (Which I’m not) but seeing her fall at the hands of dairy didn’t make me feel any better about it. During this phase I only ate about three things and you literally couldn’t get me to eat anything else to the point where I was nearly anorexic. Once my friend told me she coughed so hard she threw up and I didn’t let myself cough when I was sick for a long time after. I also ran away from anyone who coughed near me. (I was such a psycho.) Now I will eat most foods given to me, but if something repeatedly offends my stomach, I usually just stop. I’m not so dramatic about it anymore lol. (I am much healthier now, too.)

Literally running away from sick people: I will never forget one time, my brother got sick. I wasn’t even in the same room as him. My mom yelled “maccreadysbaby, can you bring me some wipes?” I did. And as soon as I saw what happened I threw them at her, ran across the house, hid behind the couch, covered my ears and started crying. Another time, my mom informed me that my brother had thrown up while I was not home for a few days, and I avoided him like the plague. Literally like I would die if I touched him. My parents stopped telling me if my siblings got sick while I was away after that. When I was in gradeschool, a classmate got sick on a Tuesday and I was fine for the rest of the week. Then I puked on Saturday. For years afterwards, if I was ever around a sick person, I’d always count four days and if I didn’t throw up on day four, finally relax. (Again, I was such a psycho.) This instinct is still here as an adult. For example, my sister just recently thought she was gonna get carsick (while I was in the back with her) and let me tell you I was so squished up to my door I couldn’t breathe. I still sort of do the day counting thing if I’m completely honest, but I’m not so terrified and incessant about it.

Thinking that they’re sick all the time: This was a terribly big thing for me. For a span of 5ish years, at the same time I swore off dairy, I basically categorized myself as gonna throw up all of the time, even when I was perfectly freaking fine. I woke up, assumed I would puke that day, because why wouldn’t I, and triggered my anxiety. Which would actually trigger stomachaches and stuff. I would sit on the stairs and beg and cry until my parents let me stay home from school, and we almost had to go to court for the amount of school I was missing because I pulled this crap every day. This phase of my life only ended when my mom took me to the doctor (while I was literally fine) and made him tell me I was just anxious and not actually going to puke. (As you can see, I was a very fun child to raise.) I don’t behave this way anymore, but if my stomach does hurt for some reason, I immediately spiral into oh SHITE not HAPPENING territory.

Have debilitating anxiety: This is one of the things on this list that still happens to me regularly. If my stomach hurts in any capacity (even on my period) I am immediately thrusted into I’m gonna freaking puke mode. I get really cold, start sweating, start trembling (like, shake the whole couch trembling) and just sit there while my anxiety eats my brain. I can’t move because some part of me thinks moving an inch is going to make me puke. No matter how much I tell myself you’re fine, you’re not going to puke, this happens to you every day and you haven’t thrown up since you were twelve, you’re being so dramatic, it doesn’t stop. I just have to sit there and wallow in my pain and anxiety until my stomach stops hurting. Then I laugh at myself for being stupid and move on, even though I routinely worry about it coming back throughout the day. If it does I rinse and repeat. If I do puke (which I fortunately haven’t done since I was twelve) I can confidently say there’d be a lot of crying and minimal screaming about how I’m gonna die.

Here’s a recent (as of literally this morning) emetophobic thought pattern for you to analyze, to help you understand what your characters minds might be doing when they’re freaking out:

I received a text that my cousin, who I saw last night, was throwing up. I was still asleep but I woke up and checked my phone anyways. This was my exact thought process.

oh SHITE I was around him, wasn’t I? Well, I guess not a lot, he spoke to me a few times and I was near him at the campfire, but I maybe not enough to make me sick. But you know who was around him? My freaking sister. And if she gets sick there’s no hope for me. oh my GOD does my stomach hurt right now? I think it does. Wait, shut up, maccreadysbaby, you’re being stupid. Think about something else and go back to sleep. Why are you SHAKING stop being so pathetic. Your stomach totally hurts right now. You have plans today maccreadysbaby you can NOT get sick you can NOT be the reason your plans are canceled. I’m totally going to throw up today as life’s way of spiting me. Shut up and go to sleep, you weren’t even around him. But I WAS we ALL were, sitting across the table doesn’t count as being far away. Maybe he just got carsick or has acid reflux or something. Today is Saturday so if I make it to Wednesday I should be fine. But what if I ACTUALLY throw up I don’t even want to think about it oh my God what if I do? Okay, you’re fine, shut up and go back to sleep.

I went back to sleep (eventually) and woke up twice more to go through that entire process again before my alarm went off. It’s basically that on repeat every time I hear of a sick person or my stomach hurts. Fun times 😬👍.

[beatsboy]

8.19.24 / day 57 of being a delusional artist

day 5 of moon time

today was chaotic, i was under slept, it was 90 degrees outside, and yet, i still carved out time for my art, albeit at the end of the day, and i almost managed to eat a meal before 11am (even though i’d been up since 8). the problem is not when i wake up, i don’t even mind if i get up late, it’s that i keep getting stuck in holes. in hyper fixations. and not the good kind. like the kind that makes your fear of contamination worse and worse every time you open instagram. like the kind that makes grocery stores a battle ground.

today in therapy, we talked about my obsessions, compulsions, and how they’ve been inhibiting my daily life lately. it feels like it’s always about control, unless it’s about my father. i did realize today in therapy, that, because my father controlled me for so much of my life—even when i rebelled, and sometimes especially when i rebelled—i relied on him to inform me of what was real, what wasn’t, what was good, bad, immoral, etc and now i have to figure these things out for myself.

instead of asking myself what i think, though, i ask the internet. i look for experts to validate any side, either side, any opinion, just tell me it’s right and true and real. like my dawn dish soap. i don’t really give a shit if it’s poisonous or not, i’d just like to know if i need to stop using it. it’s more than the dawn dish soap, though. and it’s about more than controlling my environment in a post-addiction life. it’s about the root of the problem: i don’t trust myself anymore. or, maybe i never did, i’m not sure.

i don’t really think i trusted myself back then, i think i more so just leaned into the chaos of it all and let go. sure, substances helped to embrace this chaos. my (same) therapist at the time told me that she thought perhaps i didn’t want to let go of my attachment to being a hot mess. she was right, of course. that was a difficult part of myself to let go of since it was inextricably tied to being accountable for my actions, and responsible for actual growth and change. it was easier to cry about my ex, fuck his friends, and blame it on how much i drank. same as it was easier to go into a k hole in my bedroom and have video sex with strangers on the internet, shoving a dildo up my ass until i feel something, barely able to remember it the next day when i go to work, than to simply be alone with myself at night, in a time when everything was closed, and i had no one else to talk to.

so, alas, now, that i am not an unhinged addicted closeted transsexual, i have let go of much of the chaos, and yet, i have found myself bound to an order that does not always serve me. there are rules in my head, spirals that lead to rabbit hole upon rabbit hole of research and internet deep diving, only to come out with no answers. i still don’t know if crocs are toxic, if dawn dish soap is poisoning me, or if receipts put forever chemicals in your bloodstream just by touching them, but there are some things i cannot afford to worry about, and those things are taking up so much space in my brain it is hard to see anything else. yes, we are talking about if i have ocd or not, i think it might just be the autism though if i’m being honest like, i haven’t always been so afraid of food and contamination things, it’s really developed more and more since covid. that’s when i developed an intense fear of getting sick (i remember taking a full shower and stripping my clothes in the garage the first time i was exposed) and working in healthcare where i had to be exposed was not fun during that time, so i just tried to learn as much as i could to feel as in control of the situation as i could, because i was so scared of getting it. when i got the call that i was getting my vaccine, i literally cried. and now, i know i’m immunocompromised, and the vaccine is not t h a t effective on me and i’ve had it like 3 fucking times and i’m even more scared now because of that so yeah

and i mean i want to believe that it’s the food poisoning me, that it’s my dish soap, or my polyester clothing because even removing every single ounce of plastic from my life is easier than going through the american healthcare system when you don’t know what’s wrong with you and i do know parts, i know about my eds, which has helped explain a lot, and i know that my digestion is s l o w but i don’t know w h y so that’s fun

through all this fear, nonetheless, and realizing that my fear and internet rabbit holing was a way to fill the void where i used to have a father, i still sat down and made art today. i opened ableton, i worked on choirboy, which is, in a way, a song in reference to my father, and myself, of course. i wonder what he would think if he heard it.

[puddleorganism]

Hey so for your hs au, we're the kids always big dragon things or did they become dragon things at some point via wacky sburb shit? Love the designs they are so cool

Thank you so much!!

The au was inspired by some posts I saw (can’t find them now 😔) that were essentially just talking about how cruel SBURB is, and it got me thinkin a bit.

At this point I’d already had the idea “hey what if godtier let them turn into big monsters” because, and you may notice a theme here, I really like big monsters. There was no lore at all at that point. They literally just. Were big monsters. For fun!

But I got thinking about it more, and kind of came to this conclusion:

Godtiering steals your life, your very humanity from you. It makes you a god, by definition. What if that was very literal?

So the au is everyone starts out like normal, but once you godtier things start to get weird. It starts small, a single pair of wings (which, ironically they don’t actually use to fly. They could, but they still have their floaty godtier powers (and honestly there’s a whole lot of lore around THAT too)). The more you use your godtiering powers and the more time you spend as a god, the less you really… fit inside a human/troll/etc. shape, anymore, and the more your body starts to morph into something larger and grander. Something more befitting of those who have mastered the game.

And that’s basically it, that’s the only way this au diverges from canon. It’s essentially a re-skin of an au lmao

I will say the gods can return to a human shape, but only visually and it’s difficult. They sort of come to embody their aspects - literally - so if they can figure out a way to condense or conceal their aspect, they can in turn condense themselves to be something smaller. Like I said, it’s tricky though. It’s probably something they would’ve only figured out post-canon. That, and it’s something they have to consciously maintain. If they don’t, the rest of them starts to “bleed through” back into visible reality in weird ways. Since it’s all tailored to their aspect it looks different for each of them. I want to draw Dave bleeding through sometime because I have a really cool idea for what it would look like for him.

One last thing, more of a design note than anything. I actually… don’t really like their designs yet. Well, I guess it’s more that they’re not really what I want yet? I do like some of them (especially Dave’s, Dave might not need any revisions actually). While designing them I really want to model them after two concepts:

1. Illuminated manuscripts and heraldic beasts, because the classes are based off of medieval fantasy and I think it’d be sick to reference that.

2. Eldritch/cosmic horror, because that more than anything emphasizes that they don’t really belong in any one universe anymore, and also emphasizes their loss of mortality and thus, in a way, life.

I feel like most of them lean too far towards either one, and aren’t balanced between them like I want. Hence why I’m unsatisfied with them atm! I am very glad you like them though :)

[matan4il]

So, I’m a fandom blog, and I made a rule awhile back that I will not post about politics. I will use other platforms to do that, but this is my blog I do for fun, to de-stress and escape the world for a bit. But with how Tumblr has been going, spreading anti-Semitic lies fed to them by groups like Hamas? I’m just not sure it’s ethical to keep quiet. Every time I log on and scroll through my dashboard, I am unfollowing multiple people because of their anti-Israel posts. I will continue to speak on other platforms, but I feel like I can’t keep tumblr as my separate “fun” blog anymore. I might make another account to post about this, so I don’t have to deal with what I don’t doubt will be a lot of hate on the account I post content on the Jewish massacres. The whole ordeal makes me sick.

Hi Nonnie! Thank you for this ask.

I empathize so much. I didn't get on Tumblr 'coz I wanted to talk politics, I came here 'coz I wanted to yell together with others about fandom stuff. Because we ALL need a distraction. And it's not like life in Israel was exactly easy before Oct 7. An online respite was very much needed.

But yes, I feel the same. I might not have planned to do the daily updates, but the disgusting reactions to Jews being massacred, or to us simply mourning our dead, convinces me I have to speak. The way one person put it, and it feels very accurate, is that I don't care about losing followers more than I care about losing so many of our people.

Of course you do what feels right for you, how it feels right! I'm PROUD of you for speaking out, despite how hard and scary it is. For me personally, I'm not sorry that, despite not planning it, I ended up speaking about this on my personal account. I hope a few people who might not have listened otherwise, have paid attention because I'm someone they know. But more than that, this is a part of who I am as a person. I am fiercely Jewish. It's not divisible from who I am as a human being, fandom silliness included. If people like my meta, for example, they get into how my brain analyzes subtext, or compares scenes, then hopefully they get that that's the same brain that has studied and analyzed the conflict, and which is capable of holding a complex and nuanced view of it, which is worth listening to. So I'm not sorry. But I totally get why you'd want to make a separate account. And honestly, the fact that we're being driven to even have to make that choice, be scared of the abuse we will get for speaking about what happened to our people on our own blogs, it is precisely a part of the issue, so thank you for making others aware of it, too!

Please, don't hesitate to update me or let me know if I can help with anything! Sending you lots of hugs and love! And take care of yourself, okay? xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)