#it's been in my drafts since September & I just remembered it existed

[prosebushpatch]

Love the feeling of going back to a draft after a legit year and laughing out loud at shenanigans you forgot writing.

[sorcerersseestars]

 his eyes, your ears [part iv]

series masterlist

Gojo Satoru x reader

summary: There was a time when you called him best friend, but those days escaped you long ago. There’s no way he’s alive – right? With the depth of his betrayal still lingering in your heart and mind, what would his reappearance spell for your life?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

warnings: cursing, lowkey a little mental torture, TW! s*xual a*sault (forced kiss), violence!!, one instance of vomiting (sry), immoral and creepy Geto, reader is kinda anxious nonstop (like writer like reader?), some details are non-canon (a/n 2.0 at end explains), also it’s slow for the first half but picks up I promise, I think I made Geto sound British???, also I made Hanami act like a mom kinda 💀 uh…im going to call it comic relief?

word count: 6.7k. oof.

a/n: I am literally SO SORRY that this has been sitting in my drafts for so long but… life happens! Along those lines – I wrote 1/2 of this in September and 1/2 of it in May, so it might be a bit disjointed sorryyy hehe

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“Then you’ll have to live with disappointment,” He flashes you an all-too-pleased-with-himself smile. “Becaaause it’s totally permanently in your phone now.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, right. As if I wouldn’t be able to delete a contact.”

He has a devilish smirk on his face, but his voice is annoyingly innocent and cheerful. “Go ahead, try!”

You gasp. “Gojo! Did you jailbreak my new phone?!”

“Uh, uh! That not what my contact reads as!” He snatches your phone from your hands, and points a large finger to the tiny name on your screen. “It’s ‘My Beloved Best Friend Satoru’!”

“Satoru,” You say dangerously. “Erase this or I’ll erase you from existence.”

He chuckles. “Oh, I’d love to see you try. You’re cute when you try to beat me.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to find words, and you try to ignore the heat on your cheeks. “S-Satoru! You asshole, give me my phone back!”

He holds it high above your head, a wide smile lingering on his face. He’s having way too much fun with this. You jump, trying to swat it out of his hand, but to no avail.

“Why did you even do this?” You grumble, sighing. “What, is it ‘how many ways can I torture (Y/N) in the span of a few hours’ day?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re weak, remember? You gotta have me on speed dial if you want to survive in this line of work.”

First, your eyes widen at his blunt statement. Then you sigh again, this time a bit sadly. “Wow, you have so much faith in me…thanks.”

“You never know what’s out there,” Gojo says. “If you ever have any trouble, call me.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Is this a prank? I thought you hated ‘helping the weak’.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N),” He says firmly. “I’ll always pick up. Abuse the privilege, whatever, I don’t care. Just don’t die.”

Your head snaps towards him, mouth hanging open with shock. “Satoru, what…? I’m not going to…”

You fall silent. There’s no guarantee of that.

He steps closer to you, closer than what you’d consider friendly. Your heart skips a beat.

“Just do it, okay? I’ll always be on the other end.”

Always, huh? But now…

Ring, ring, ring. You bite your lip, pressing your phone hard against your ear, as if his voice will appear if you wish it enough. Ring, ring, ring.

“Please…” You whisper. “Come on, come on.”

Your breath hitches as the distinctive timbre of Satoru’s voice fills your ear, but your shoulders fall almost immediately.

“Hey, sorry I’ve missed your call! If you close your eyes, recite my name five times, and spin around twice, I might get back to ya! No exceptions – not even–”

You sigh and hang up before you’re put through to voice mail. It’s not like he’ll listen to it, anyway.

He’s been avoiding you. You haven’t seen him for days – six, to be exact. It’s been five days since Shoko deemed you well enough to recover at home, despite the worryingly slow rate that your cursed energy has been returning. You were released with the promise you wouldn’t exert yourself and absolutely would not use any cursed energy. All the while, you had childishly held two crossed fingers behind your back – your promise was as empty as you felt.

You should have expected this; this shouldn’t hurt so much. Gojo is the strongest sorcerer the world has seen for hundreds of years. He never runs from his foes – he doesn’t need to. When it comes to facing emotions, however, he is all but mighty. Whenever his emotions run high, overflowing until they begin to leak out into broad daylight, he turns tail and practically erases himself from existence. It’s nearly impossible to find him – he mysteriously leaves no trace, even for an experienced tracker like you.

You left Shoko with an empty smile and promise, and Gojo has done just the same. Despite him swearing that he’d be back to see you, Gojo is nowhere to be found. You’ve dropped by at the school multiple times, even asking his students if they knew of his whereabouts, but nobody has been able to give you an answer.

He’s been dodging your calls, letting it ring until his chirpy voicemail message mocks you. The text messages you leave go unread, unopened.

When you hopelessly reopen your chat with him, you can’t help but bite yoru nails as you stare at the wall of blue on your screen. Message after message – unfinished thoughts, apologies, words full of urgency and desperation – are left by trembling hands bloodied by your own worry.

‘I’m the strongest,’ He always says, so why does fear spike in your veins at the thought of Geto finding him? 

Even though his own arrogant words ring through your head, you can’t quell the anxiety that threatens to wreak havoc over your fragile state. You’re worried, so worried, and it bleeds into the rest of your life: you’re all over the place, constantly forgetting appointments and important items, you are inexplicably tense, your breathing is constantly shallow and quick; you’re barely holding yourself together.

A few days ago, you had your meeting with Yaga, alone, which went just as horribly as you could have imagined, but you were thankfully spared contact with the higher-ups due to your condition.

But you’re almost all better now – at least physically. That’s why you’re back again, ready for another round of manipulation and abuse.

You’re out of it, so out of it. Your eyes are glazed over, and nothing they say registers in your mind. Even when you try to focus on the words leaving their mouths, your brain filters it all back into mindless noise.

There’s a sequence of very familiar syllables: ah, your name is being shouted. You look up with empty eyes, blinking slowly.

“Useless sorcerer, answer me, now!” Gakuganji roars. “You are testing our patience, and I’ve just about run out of it. Can you track him, or not?”

You breathe in shakily, and let out a weak, clueless, “What?”

“Track him, or they’re dead,” He spits. “Track Geto Suguru. Find him. We won’t wait long. If you haven’t reported back in a week, your parents won’t be able to enjoy their retirement any longer.”

Some of the other council members shift uncomfortably at his bluntness, but you barely even flinch.

You’re so tired of it all. You almost wish you had encouraged Gojo to just off them once and for all.

“Okay,” You mumble softly, lacking the energy to project your voice. “I can do it. I will track Geto Suguru.”

You drag yourself out without acknowledging them, without any show of respect, but the thought of caring is lost on you. Your apathy leaves a trail of displeased whispers, but you don’t even notice.

You speed-dial his number again and again and again, and are returned with nothing but the taunt of his cheerfully recorded memo.

When you finally look away from his contact info burning your retinas, your gaze is trained on the clear sky. It shouldn’t be so vivid, shouldn’t be so beautiful – today should be overcast and rainy. You can’t help but frown, but your eyes remain on the heavens.

Then you’re granted a sight that usually coaxes a smile out of you no matter how you feel: a particularly large gust of wind lays out a collection of reddening autumn leaves against the azure sky. They swirl and dance in the breeze, hovering in your field of vision for a few more moments before they are whipped away. 

It’s a sign of the changing of seasons – it has always been one of your favorite times of the year, especially during your years at Tokyo Jujutsu High. The rapid approach of the holidays and the time spent training with your classmates in the chilly air has always enlivened you.

Today, this sight drives fat tears to roll down your cheeks. It just serves to remind you of the juxtaposition between those blissful times and these turbulent times: the weight of Geto’s betrayal, his subsequent death, his impossible revival.

You turn your head to the side, eyes tracking the leaves as they dance into the distance. 

“So I’m really doing this then,” You whisper to yourself. “Yeah, guess I am. You’re not here to stop me…”

They’re far from Tokyo, much further than they were before. That much is obvious from the start, when you first scour for their residuals. After a disappointing first try by Jujutsu High - you shouldn’t expected much, anyway - you decide to return to their last known location: the forest you nearly were obliterated in. You dread returning there, but you have little choice unless you want to do a whole lot of guesswork.

You drive yourself there. Usually, you would be accompanied by your usual driver Ijichi, but the thought of asking him didn’t even cross your mind. In the eyes of the Jujutsu world, this is a suicide mission. You’re well aware of that: so why involve anyway else unnecessarily, risking innocent lives?

You’re grateful for the calming scenery that blurs by: miles and miles of inhabited land, solely occupied by woodland’s creatures. Hardly any curses are present in the countryside, as there are no humans to feed off of. Those special grades you faced were certainly the exception.

You pull over to the edge of the forest once you sense a steady stream of cursed energy. The residual energy is at least a week old - just around the time of your unfortunate encounter with them. You close your eyes and carefully sift through all of the cursed energy signatures left behind, immediately identifying Hanami’s and Jogo’s faint residuals. There’s one stronger energy, and very familiar: Satoru’s cursed energy.

His cursed energy is so easy to pick out, no matter where you are. It’s so bright and lively, practically humming under your fingers every time you sense it, almost as if it were your own.

But there’s a shadow – his energy shadows another. You concentrate, sensing an underlying current of a more recent energy. Your eyes fly open, startled by your discovery. It is much fresher than the others: the residuals are only a few days old.

Its signature is both unknown and yet alarmingly familiar. It’s dark, so dark. Its energy chokes you, holds you hostage with the way it starts to stick to you and steal your courage with its oppressiveness. You’ve never felt an energy quite like this, yet it feels all too familiar.

You begin to shake, the reality sinking in. “Geto…. Just what have you become?”

You shakily clamber back into the driver’s seat, firmly gripping the steering wheel with sweaty hands. Geto was here. Geto knows that you and Satoru were in the same vicinity as Jogo and Hanami. There’s absolutely no way he doesn’t know — you carelessly hadn’t wiped your residuals or even tried to cover your tracks.

You step on the gas. You keep your cursed energy flowing as you speed down the road, revealing a murky trail of residuals to follow. His cursed energy is so distinctly foul that you can pick it out from the rest with little effort. It’s overwhelming and makes you nauseous. Cursed with a twist of familiarity – a sickening combination.

Your mind begins to race. Is this how Gojo felt back then? No, it must have been so much worse, tracking one of your soulmates down with the intent to…to kill. And now you’re being forced to track him down again, just so the higher-ups can order Gojo to repeat history, just so your best friends will be forced to fight until one is–

You jerk the steering wheel over, making for a rough pull-over job. You throw yourself out of the car as quickly as possible before retching your stomach’s contents out onto the dark pavement.

The old wounds in your heart flare up; you clutch your chest desperately.

You are not strong enough to protect your parents - but are you strong enough to survive the alternative, the reality you and Gojo can’t help but deny?

“I have to,” You whisper to yourself. “I have to do this. I have no power in this world, I’m not the strongest…so this is all I can do.”

And so you are off again, this time unwavering from the course you’re set on.

By the time you reach Kyoto, an untimely five hours of panicked driving later, their residuals are so apparent that you hardly have to try. It’s almost as if they’re luring you in, the most sensitive tracker known in the Jujutsu world; why else would they leave behind such obvious traces of their cursed energy?

You ignore your instincts that scream for you to turn back, and instead continue into the outskirts of the most outer part of the residential areas – the residuals lead you far from the city itself.

As you venture further into the countryside, your stomach begins to clench. The residuals are much stronger now, but not alarmingly so. They should still be miles and miles out, perhaps 40 or 50 – there should be enough distance to not alert them of your presence. However, as a precaution, you stretch your hearing beyond the range of any normal human. You still feel unsettled, even with the extra layer of protection.

This is dumb. This is a terrible idea. Yet, you keep your foot firmly on the gas pedal.

You are suddenly flooded with an overwhelming wave of noise. Your brain barely has a second to process what your ears pick up: the roar of an object hurtling towards your car. You swerve to the roadside, and you’re barely fast enough: the driver’s side door is nearly scraped off, and it begins to smolder.

It shouldn’t be possible. They shouldn’t be here. Not again.

Running on pure adrenaline, you rip your seatbelt off and throw yourself to the passenger’s side door, seeking an escape from the next impending strike. Your hearing is more sensitive from your frenzied state, and you hear the next meteor much earlier this time. You rely on your hearing, on your hearing only: it will tell you where to dodge.

You climb out of the car, wheezing on smoke and fumes, and take off running. You gasp at the sound of the next meteor closing in on you and quickly dive away, throwing yourself to the ground and covering your head with your hands. The explosion is so intense that even after reducing your hearing, you feel the shock reverberate through your body and overpower any other sensation you feel.

After the ringing in your ears lets up for a moment, you finally feel the aftermath of the blast: shards of heated rock are embedded in your side, scorching your skin. There’s no time to even think about it: you’re up and running away from the voices that soon enter your hearing.

“You imbecile! Do you always have to do the opposite of what you’ve been ordered?” The grating tones of Hanami enter your ears as he hisses at Jogo. “He said captured alive! Or would you rather face his wrath?”

Captured? So they had been expecting your arrival; it was a trap all along.

“Relax, I haven’t even made a scratch yet!” Jogo shouts back.

“You’re embarrassing yourself in many ways,” Hanami scoffs. “If your intention was to kill, I will begin to further doubt your abilities. I already had to rescue you from that sorcerer, or has your pea-brain already forgotten that failure after it fell off of your body?”

“Shut up already,” Jogo growls. “I got it, okay?”

You truly don’t know what to do. Your last encounter made it very clear that you are solely a tracker with limited offensive ability. Hell, you didn’t even try last time because you knew it be to utterly pointless – the result would turn out no better if you tried now. Two special grades against a Grade 1 sorcerer with Grade 2 offensive abilities? You don’t stand a chance in that regard.

They’re in too close of proximity to disguise your presence – cutting off your cursed energy would be pointless. There’s only one other trick up your sleeve to increase your chances of surviving if they do decide to attack again.

You feel their cursed energies so much more clearly – when you steal a glance behind yourself, you can faintly see them in the distance. Not good.

Jogo suddenly barks out a laugh. “Boss never said we couldn’t rough anybody up though, did he? Got you there, dumbass! Don’t try to stop me!”

Really not good.

There’s a sudden spike in cursed energy – and that energy is heading straight for you. You try to dodge, but your reaction is too late. You feel the heat even before the impact, and you decide you definitely need to utilize your other ability. It’s not perfect, nor is it a full-fledged technique yet, but you have little choice but to use it now.

You concentrate all your energy into the side that will take the hit, and imagine an impenetrable wall. You think of Gojo’s Infinity: the space that can never crossed, no matter how much force is exerted. You don’t have the ability to manipulate space like Gojo, but your shield imitates his impenetrability.

Jogo’s fiery body slams into your side. Your breath is instantly knocked out of you, and the searing pain returns. Your shield absorbs the brunt of the strike, but you’re still knocked back at least thirty feet. You tumble into the undergrowth, your back squarely hitting a tree in your path.

You can’t stop the howl that escapes your lungs, and the ragged breathing that follows.

“They tried to stop it! It wasn’t even a fraction of my power and they couldn’t stop it! And you’re telling me that Gojo Satoru is interested in them?” Jogo howls in laughter. “How pathetic!”

At your next blink, Jogo has materialized in front of you. You weakly stagger to the side, wanting to get away but knowing you can’t deep down. They’re just toying with you – if they decided to get rid of you, they’d be able to almost instantly.

Jogo shouts loudly, “So weak it makes me sick! You can only run away, huh? Boss is right – creatures like you are disgusting.”

He rushes forward again, and you rush to encase yourself in your imperfect shield. To your surprise, you are not struck down: instead, you’re…in his arms??

“Hanami! Since you won’t let me have anymore fun, I guess we should go back,” Jogo yells across the clearing to the other Special Grade.

A burst of petals flies past your eyes; Hanami emerges from a newly-grown patch of flowers. They don’t say anything, but they approach Jogo and stand right over his shoulder. Jogo eyes Hanami suspiciously.

“Why are you hovering over me?” Jogo grumbles. “Stay away, tree hugger.”

“It’s almost as if he knew you were going to pull this,” Hanami huffs. “There’s a reason I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

“They’re alive, that was the only request. Did Boss put you up to that ‘good guy’ act, huh? Agh, such arrogant scum! Thinks he can tell me what to do?”

Despite your shield, Jogo’s heat begins to affect you. You cough violently, and when you glance at your hands you see rivulets of red.

“Yes, I think that’s accurate, considering you call him ‘Boss’. Now, hand them over before they go up in flames.”

Jogo grunts unhappily, but complies. You’re transferred to the rough bark limbs of the tree cursed spirit. Hanami sighs at the sight of your angry red burns, eyeing Jogo, “Such a barbaric curse…destructive to all life and environment.”

“HAH! You-!” Jogo guffaws. “I’ve see you uproot your own forests! Environmentally friendly my ass! Shut your trap.”

You wince from his loudness.

“So obnoxious, isn’t he? Well, you’re the lucky one here - you get to take a nap,” Hanami says. “Rest well before your…‘meeting’.”

Your pulse quickens at the expression on the curse’s face: a demented sort of excitement. There’s a sweet floral smell that falls over you, and then you begin to grow sleepy. Your eyelids start to flutter as you try to fight it – but you are eventually pulled deep into a dreamless sleep.

You are roused from your sleep by the touch of another. A hand on your forehead – a comforting presence. It’s warm, and familiar. You’re about to smile widely and look deep into his crystal eyes, but when your bleary eyes begin to focus, your heart stops.

There’s an easy, gentle smile on his face. His dark eyes shine brightly, but your own can’t help but drift to the obvious surgical scar running across his entire forehead.

Your reflexes kick in: you smack his hand away, rejecting the unwanted touch, and fall into a defensive stance. He lets out a hum of amusement, but otherwise does not react.

���My old friend,” Geto Suguru coos. “How wonderful it is to see you again. Never thought I’d be able to – what a gift your presence is, my dear.”

It’s then that you realize that you’re shaking; your chattering teeth render you unable to let any words out.

“Did Jogo and Hanami rough you up again? How rude of them,” He sighs. “But don’t be scared, it’s just your old friend Suguru.”

He stops to let his eyes roam over your hunched form. A sickening smirk spreads across his face – sickening because it’s just like the sweet smiles he used to give you.

“You know, you really are the best tracker around. I have to say, I’m quite impressed. Too bad I know all your little tricks, though. Did you like the surprise I set up especially for you?” He smirks. “It’s hard to catch such a talented tracker as you off guard, but I think I managed quite well. You didn’t detect a thing, did you? They were supposed to be much further away, I know…it’s fascinating, isn’t it, the feats you can achieve through sorcery?”

You only stare at him in horror.

“No? Well, I know at least Jogo enjoyed it,” He says with a soft laugh, but his next words cause icy chills to run down your spine. “But I think I enjoyed it the most. The look on your face…was perfect.”

Your stomach turns at his words. His gaze is even worse: there’s a hungry, disturbing glint to them. Your eyes flit from his sharp onyx eyes to his traditional wear: his inky yukata and gilded kasaya are elegant and beautiful, but emanate darkness.

“Forgot what I looked like? It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Geto smiles. His smile is soft and almost sweet, but out of place; its familiarity makes your stomach churn.

“You shouldn’t be here,” You finally speak, voice quiet and cracking. “You shouldn’t exist.”

“That’s a bit harsh, doll. I’m not the only one who doesn’t belong in this world,” He says, lip curled in disgust. “Monkeys roam the earth. That’s more of a disgrace than my existence…I hope you’d agree.”

You only manage to gasp out, “How are you even here?”

His eyes meet yours, crinkling in a dark sort of amusement. “You’d love to know, wouldn’t you? There’s a price to pay for that knowledge, doll.”

“You’d…Geto would never hurt me,” You whimper. “Never.”

Geto just smiles. “I wouldn’t? Maybe not.”

His piercing eyes seem to see stare right through you. “But what about my best friend?”

You freeze.

“Is that such an uncomfortable thought?” He chuckles a little too lightly. “Never thought about it even once? Not even after he killed me?”

He tuts at you, clicking his tongue. “Sweetheart, I knew you were blinded by him, but never to this degree. How low you have fallen…”

He moves closer. Your breath is trapped in your lungs and you can’t move.

“One toe out of line and you might end up like me. Don’t you see?” He shakes his head.

Hot anger flashes through you, and your tongue lashes out before you can think. “One toe out of line? No. No. You committed genocide. You murdered your entire family in the name of it. For what? A delusional dream?”

He sighs. “Of course. So brainwashed…you’re practically a monkey. How disappointing. You don’t get it, do you? I was apparently his everything, and look how I ended up.”

“You’re not Geto!” You cry out. “You can’t be.”

He laughs softly, but his gaze is razor-sharp. “Are you sure these aren’t Geto’s thoughts?”

You bite your lip in nervous thought. “Ge- you…why am I here?”

He ignores your question as he begins to circle you like a hawk, eyes sharp and hungry. “You know, you’re not quite what I imagined you to be.”

You take a few tentative steps back, trying to subtly increase the distance between you and the living corpse in front of you, but he strides over to your side when he notices.

“I’m just so curious,” He says, eyes raking over your figure. “You really are (Y/N), aren’t you? Fits the descriptions…”

The blood drains from your face. You back away from his seeking hands that threaten to touch you, to investigate you.

“There’s a disgusting amount of papers with your name written all over them – I don’t think Hanami would have liked me much before. Such a waste of stationery,” He says, his twisted smirk pulling shivers down your spine. “Why was I so fixated on you? You don’t look like anything special. Don’t tell me…I actually fell for someone as plain as you?”

“What?” You breathe out, eyes wide, mouth parted in surprise. “Geto, you…he…it wasn’t like that.”

“And you didn’t even know,” He coos in faux pity. “How cruel to find out in this way. Seems like you have only ever focused on my former equal. You only pay attention to the strongest – how shallow. What did I ever see in you?”

“I- that’s not-“ You try to form a sentence, deny it, say it’s not true because it truly isn’t, but your tongue and vocal chords won’t cooperate with you.

“When confronted with the truth, humans get tongue tied,” He smiles, voice dripping with mockery. “How precious. What a good little monkey you are – so unbearably typical, so exemplary of your species.”

“Stop,” You gasp out.

“What, sweets? Can’t handle the truth?”

“Don’t call me that,” You try to say with conviction, but it leaves you weakly and softly, almost a plea.

“What, you only like it when he calls you that?” He says with a dark chuckle. “How pathetic. How much has you brainwashed you into thinking he acutally wants anything to do with you? Gojo doesn’t like to get attached. And even when he does–”

He leans forward, invading your space, pressing up too closely to your body. “–sometimes you still end up dead.”

“Stop,” You beg. “Get away from me. You’re-you’re scaring me, Suguru.”

“Am I?” He smirks. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know what to do to make you forgive me, though. Used to work on Shoko, too.”

“No, stop!” You cry, ragged breaths leaving you. “This isn’t you, stop, please, stop!”

“You’re right,” He smiles wickedly, eyes dark. “It’s not.”

His lips meet yours. It burns your skin, but not pleasantly – it’s all wrong, and it hurts. You shove him away with as much force as you can, leaving him stumbling back a few paces. He laughs. He laughs.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” He chuckles, amused. “You’re stronger than you used to be. Maybe you actually live up to being Grade 1 now, huh?”

“Who are you?!” You cry out. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I’m Geto Suguru,” He says with a crazed smile. “Is it that hard to believe when my body was never retrieved?”

“What do you want from me?” You snarl, growing angry. “You’ve just been toying with me, you bastard. Trying to play all these mind games on me, leaving your dirty work to your underlings. None of it feels substantial enough to kidnap me.”

A cackle escapes Geto, “You’re right, it isn’t. By yourself, you aren’t of any interest to me. Just a memento of the past – I don’t have any use for you.”

He continues with a smirk, “I have to say though, your reactions have piqued my interest slightly. Jogo seems to feel the same way. Perhaps if you could be our little monkey for entertainment - it might keep Jogo out of trouble elsewhere.”

Reduced to entertainment.

“You’re sick,” You say, shaking your head.

“Hardly. It’s only natural treatment for someone so unimportant. Should I be frank?” He asks, touching his chin to mock contemplation. “You are here solely as means of luring him out.”

You break out in a cold sweat. It was as you suspected and feared: you are only bait. Bait for the strongest.

“He won’t come,” You declare. “This is pointless.”

“Do you take me as an idiot monkey?” Geto frowns. “You’re not the only one who can read residuals. He came last time, and he will come this time.”

“He doesn’t know,” You hiss. “He won’t come. He doesn’t want to see me right now.”

Geto only smiles. “He’ll come.”

His confidence scares you. Even though it would be very unlikely Gojo is even aware that you’re away on a mission, doubt still swirls in your gut. You don’t want him to walk into this trap – who knows what Geto has planned?

While you mull over your thoughts, Geto grows impatient.

“This is quite dull. Let’s test your strength, First Grader,” He smirks. “Maybe they’ll pass you to Special Grade if you can land a single hit.”

Suddenly, your breath is stolen from you. You double over in pain, caught off guard by the assault to your stomach. It was only a kick, but it was the hardest you’ve been hit in your entire life by another sorcerer.

“Silly me, I’ve forgotten my manners,” Geto says drily. “When harkening back to our school days, I must ask if you’re ready before we spar.

But don’t forget, the enemy won’t wait for you. Didn’t we learn that?”

Satoru’s words. He would often preemptively attack before the sparring session officially began, and he would always recite those exact words. You feel sick.

You don’t respond, knowing it would take away from your focus. Instead, you concentrate on pouring your cursed energy into your hearing technique.

He begins his initial assault: he’s extremely agile, and his punches and kicks seem to come out of thin air. You anticipate his attacks with your highly developed sense of hearing, listening for each twitch of his muscles and the roar of his appendages slashing through the air. Essentially, you read his moves before he has finished them. Your body can’t always keep up with your hearing enough to avoid him, though, but the blows are lessened by your half-developed shielding.

You haven’t attempted a single hit of your own – all your energy has gone into avoiding each of his potent attacks. Every time you see an opening, your chance is ruined by another attack of his.

After a few minutes of religiously defending, your senses slow. You can hear everything, but you can’t physically keep up with him. You begin to take hit after hit after hit – until you’re forced to retreat several paces back. Blood drips from your nose, spilling into your mouth and filling your mouth with the metallic tang of iron. It tastes of defeat and cowardice.

“Are you sure you’re not a monkey?” Geto roars in laughter. “To call you a sorcerer is sacrilegious at best. How disappointing you are. Haven’t improved an ounce since our days together, have you? Other than that half-baked excuse of a technique - trying to imitate the strongest, perhaps?”

You ignore his taunts, using the time to draw out two small daggers from your sleeves. You fare better with bows, but the twin blades are better than nothing.

“What cute little pocket knives,” Geto jeers. “They look sharp.”

“Want to find out?” You growl.

He scoffs. “I’d like to see you try.”

It is a dance that never ends – you are held captive by the need to defend yourself, not able to stop without the fear of further injury. You are slowly giving up hope when time seems to slow down. Your breath hitches as you spot what you need desperately: an opening. You zero in on the opening, thrusting your right hand into the open space. A spurt of red splashes your hand – your aim was true.

You step back immediately, parrying his retaliating blow with your other blade. More droplets spill over you, a shower of red that makes you nauseous.

You’re breathing hard. You haven’t fought with a sorcerer – or even a curse – for a long time, and it’s taking more of your strength than you anticipated.

Geto doubles over, which fills you with confusion. There’s no way those two nicks did any substantial damage, so why is he hunched over in pain?

And then you hear it. Laughter. Crazed laughter erupts from him in waves. When he looks up at you, the fear in the pit of your stomach intensifies. He’s not hurt – he’s pissed off. Very.

“I have to admit, you exceeded my expectations. But that’s not saying much when I expected nothing from a dirty monkey like you,” He spits. “What a brat.”

“If I recall correctly, you were the one who wanted to spar like old times,” You glare, grip tightening on your daggers. “It was only per your suggestion.”

“Your insolence boils my blood…how does he care for someone like you?! How did I?!” He roars. “You are nothing!”

He rushes forward faster than you can register and knocks you to the ground. You instinctively roll out of the way and are still nearly stomped on. You try to stand up, or even just sit up, but can’t. You begin to panic – you feel frozen in place, unable to even turn your head.

“Now you can’t run away,” He growls. “Should I make it a little unbearable? You deserve it.”

You feel a great pressure forcing your body into the ground. It’s excruciating; you feel as if your bones are grinding together and all your muscles are compressed. You can’t bite back the cry that erupts from your throat.

“Now you really feel the gravity of the situation,” He says with a demented smile. “You know, maybe I don’t need you anyway. He can just come to retrieve your body. Can’t make the same mistake twice, after all. Leaving a body to rot is a vulnerability. I could fix that for him, too…leave a puddle where you used to stand? If I crush you long enough, perhaps…”

“Fuck you,” You manage to get out. “You’ll never win. You’ll never beat Satoru.”

You fall flat on your face, coughing, as you are released from his technique. You try to push yourself up, but you only manage to a kneeling position. Not that it matters anyway, not when you are grabbed by your throat and hoisted in the air.

“Do you always make so many mistakes?” He hisses. “It’s like you want me to kill you.”

You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to with how hard he’s clutching your trachea. You have no idea when you dropped your blades, but they’re not in your hands now, so you have to resort to pitifully clawing at his grip with your bare hands.

Your vision begins to blur and darken as you asphyxiate. Howls of laughter ring in your ears, getting quieter and then louder as your hearing fades in and out.

Is this how it will end? No, it can’t, you can’t let it. You can’t leave yourself to die at the hands of Geto Suguru. You can’t die at the hands of your former friend, and be found by your other best friend. You can’t do that to him.

You claw harder, more desperately, even though you feel yourself weakening. It’s futile – his grip won’t even loosen at your efforts.

You have to use your weaker technique. If you do it perfectly, it might propel him from your body, giving you a chance to escape. Escape to where, you don’t know, but you need to try. You don’t have any chance otherwise.

With a burst of strength you didn’t know you had, you focus all of your cursed energy into the skin that is touching Geto. Your close your eyes, visualizing the perfect invisible wall that encases Gojo – no flaws, no gaps, no way to get past – and then you release your energy.

There’s a loud smack that resonates through the air, and then you crumple to the ground. When you look up, you can see a hard shell jutting between you and Geto, effectively shielding you. Geto is clutching his arm, which is now red and swollen.

You actually did it. It was a perfect use of your technique.

“You are frustrating, but no matter. I have other methods at my disposal. Didn’t think I’d have to pull this on you, but you seem to be begging for your demise, so I might as well use it,” He grits his teeth, and holds one arm out, his forearm curling up.

A ball of black energy appears at his fist. It is nebulous and shifts as it grows bigger. It begins to glow as time passes, as it amasses more energy. You have no idea what that is, but you highly doubt your shield will be able to block it. As you think about your options, your shield begins to fade away – you are nearly out of cursed energy. You are wide-eyed as you watch the last sections of your shield dissipate to nothing.

Entirely defenseless, you heave yourself to a standing position and try to stumble away. You fall to one knee in agony – Jogo and Geto have taken a toll on you.

You look over to see the ball of darkness leave Geto’s fingers. You are frozen, knowing you can do nothing, but also knowing you will die if you do nothing.

It approaches, and you close your eyes. Hopefully it will completely destroy you in a single instant, so it won’t be torturous. At least you won’t be in pain for long.

It’s going to hit you. And then you suppose it does. You feel weightless, like you weigh nothing. Perhaps your body has been destroyed, and this is how your brain is processing the absence of your nerve endings.

But if you are not here anymore, why does the wind whip through your ears?

You were mistaken. You don’t just feel weightless, you are weightless.

When you open your eyes, tears spill out at the sight in front of you. Tousled white hair, a blindfold tucked over his eyes, rigid determination showing through his features.

“I didn’t know this is where we were holding the school reunion. Class of ‘007, except Geto went all rogue and didn’t end up graduating. What a failure!”

His words are playful, and he’s smiling, but somehow his tone doesn’t match. It’s serious and dark, not at all jocular. He seems to be making an effort to keep up his lighthearted persona, but his true feelings can’t help but bleed out.

“Ah, you finally showed up,” Geto cackles. “It’s not good to have a weakness. I was about to do you a favor.”

Gojo laughs bitterly, “Don’t you know? Strength comes from weaknesses. Not that you would understand.”

“In any case…” He looks down at you. “I won’t let you take away my strongest weakness.”

next part

a/n 2.0: Okay so, idk how it 100% is in the manga bc I haven’t read it, but basically this ‘Geto’ (*cough* Kenjaku) has thoughts that are Kenjaku but with some of Geto’s memories ?? .. sorry if that’s non canon heehee

Bonus!!: Also I’ve been learning some Japanese so here is Gojo’ name spelled out: ごじょさとる。This is more for my own enjoyment 🫣 but here you go lol

tag list: @thenyxsky, @whitehairedtwink, @screwyou3

also thank you @zoyatoshi for your such sweet reblogs 🥹🥹 literally inspired me to finish this chapter up after 6+ months !!

[squarebracket-trickster]

hi, happy wbw!! tell me about the climate in your world!! are the seasons anything like ours, or are they completely different? what is the weather like?

OH MY GOSH??? I have been sitting on this ask since... JULY??? What?? I AM SO SORRY. I think I was waiting until I got further into draft 3 of WIPVII because this is the draft where I planned to actually finalize these details.

I haven't heard from you in a while my friend, so maybe my answering this will summon you? please? Henry misses his number one fan<3

This WIP is very low fantasy - no magic, no mythical creatures, nothing that doesn't also exist in our world what so ever - so I got lazy and decided there was absolutely no reason I couldn't just make the climate/biome that the story takes place in very similar to the one I live in. The goods news is I can get really hyper-specific with the descriptions because I spent a lot of time in forest growing up. (It also makes the story feel more self-insert-y, which is always a plus hehe).

Flora

The only difference between the biome/ecosystems in this story and versus where I live IRL is that I live in North America and this story takes place in two-ish countries loosely inspired by England, Scotland, Wales, Breton, and Western France. The weather where I live is similar enough but I tried to only include plants that grow around my home that also grow in those regions of Europe (most are considered invasive species where I live - holly, ivy, broom, yew trees etc).

Seasons (temperature, daylight, rain, frost, leaf colours, lunar cycle)

To keep things consistent I decided just pretend that the lunar cycle in this world lined up with the lunar cycle in our world from September 15th, 2023 (a night with a new moon) to October 31st, 2023 (the hunter's moon). This way I could map out my plot on a calendar and make sure every time I describe a moon or tide it was in the right phase. It also helped me keep track of daylight hours and seasonal changes.

When the story starts, like the climate where I live, it is late summer and everything is yellow and tinder-dry. Then within a few days the rains start (beginning of fall) and come on and off every few days for the rest of the story. It'll rain fairly hard most of the day (there isn't a specific time of day that is more likely) and then it will stop as suddenly as it started.

The weather is warm at the beginning of the story. Warm enough that my main character, who has just swam through the ocean and is now wandering naked in a forest, is able to get dry pretty quick and is not at high-risk of hypothermia (everything is also so dry it is also easy for her to light a fire).

As the story progresses the days grow shorter, the leaves start to change and fall, the streams go from dried up to flooded, the berries shrivel up and rot, the temperature drops, and by the end of the story there is frost on the ground first thing in the morning. I think there the first snowfall happens in the very last scene... but I can't remember... I haven't read it in a while. If it does, the snow doesn't stick (just like home! *cries*)

Winds (and fog)

Most of the story takes place in a hilly region of woodland which is sandwiched between two mountain ranges (north to northwest and far north east), vast plains (east and north), an ocean straight (south), and open ocean (southwest). So there are some serious winds here and some of then occur daily like clockwork. I actually drew a map to help me keep track of them.

[I don't have my reference map with me as I type this so these might be inaccurate but to give you a sense:]

First thing in the morning a shrill wind and fog roll off the open sea (from the southeast).

Around midmorning as the air warms a second, warmer wind, comes in from the southern straight.

There's a midafternoon chill which is actually a very gentle wind caused by sunlight cooling in the shadow of the northwestern mountains.

Then there is an evening wind from the northeast which is much stronger, having picked up momentum on the plains.

Sometime in early October a really strong, harsh wind also arrives from due north where it has been able to pick up a lot of momentum travelling over the steppes. When that wind comes it basically stays for weeks and doesn't stop blowing.

All these winds (and the fog) are inspired by winds that exist around where I live. But are exacerbated by the plains and the mountains. (There are mountains where I live but they aren't as close by). There aren't really any plains until the other side of the Rockies... which is a whole province away. But there are a lot of hills and small mountains.

Thanks, as always, for the ask, friend<333

[charissekenion]

Usually the process for this newsletter goes one of two ways; the first way is ultra-planned and I’ll be sure to divide the content into different sections. The second way is I’ll just wake up with inspiration and write it down like a stream of consciousness.

This week though, I made several notes on things I wanted to talk about - Doja Cat AT Schiaparelli! Mikayla Noguiera’s allegedly fake lashes! I started writing the newsletter last night but was feeling tired so I just left it on draft. However, once I got into bed last night I decided that I would probably leave the newsletter until next week, because I knew there were several tasks on my list for today and I love a Friday admin tidy up. IYKYK.

The subject of the TikTok (and accompanying podcast) is ‘90s model Jenny Shimizu, a self-proclaimed ‘gay Japanese car mechanic with short hair and tattoos’ who went on to inspire a generation of Asian and queer women who felt completely unseen by fashion, beauty and media.

The response so far has been over 1million views, over 22,000 saves and over 1,200 comments. This is a record for a small creator like me; I’ve been consistently posting (as in a couple of videos per week) since September 2022 but I really just joined TikTok to find a different audience. Instagram has been a dry and dusty desert for a while now, and I’ve intentionally been spending less time over there. For me TikTok has this sense of opportunity to find others that like similar things. I have never thought of it in a financial sense or ever really cared about accruing followers. Instead it feels like a place where I get to do what I want; which is often to talk about makeup, moments in beauty, people who have made a mark on me.

Occasionally something will inspire me and also be newsworthy, such as Doja Cat at Schiaparelli covered in red Swarovski crystals. Before this Jenny video, that video was my most popular - but even if it hadn’t been, I still would have made it. And if Jenny only reached 10 people, and ONE of them told me ‘yes, Jenny was the only person who helped me feel seen’, then I would be so happy.

Someone interviewed me the other day as part of a podcast prep and they asked me about my purpose and why I do what I do. Honestly, it might sound corny but I really do see beauty in everything/everyone and I’m curious about it and I think I want others to feel curious too. So when I make a video, it’s actually for me, in the sense that, I enjoy sharing the information or story.

The comments on this video are 99.9% positive - which is a first, and of course, could absolutely change - and they are split between love and desire. There are a lot of women in the comments talking about how Jenny was their obsession back in the ‘90s, how they discovered her in teen drama Foxfire and wish she’d actually married Angelina Jolie (full info in the TikTok if you’re intrigued!).

But the most important comments are from young Asian women who hadn’t seen Jenny before. To see people saying ‘thank you’ on a video means more than anything. Many of those thank yous have been women who are simply happy to be reminded of Jenny’s existence. A comment from producermama reads: ‘I remember having 0 beauty role models as an Asian woman and adored Jenny. I buzzed my hair in 1989 BC of her and loved it.’ Pinkorchid wrote: ‘Being Asian, she was an idol to me.’ These comments are the reason I make videos and why I’m sharing this ramble today. I hope it inspires you to create things you truly feel, without worrying about The Algorithm. Until then, listen to the Jenny Shimizu episode of BeautyMe, or check out my TikTok!

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMYL1UQsY/

[geekgemsspooksandtoons]

Stories From Fazbear's Timeline

So, when I was rambling on Twitter some hours ago. I realized and I was stupid to not notice this long ago. Many of my Stories From Fazbear's stories were indeed deleted even when I reblogged them to this blog. Because when you press the keep reading option, it doesn't work because it said it doesn't exist.

Which really sucks. But I had posted the timeline onto another site. So, just in case something happens. I'm going to copy and paste the timeline. This was for an AU I hyped up and posted the timeline. Something I was very passionate. It was basically my own reimaging and, in a way, my movie adaptation of the FNAF saga. It took months to make, and I had made draft stories. But alias, many of those stories are now sadly gone because I deleted my FNAF blog.

I was very proud of this AU. I teared up at some of the little stories I wrote. Yet I question if I should call this my best work. But I was just proud (And I had help when making it) to make it because I...am likely still a long time FNAF fan. I wanted to make my own take on the series that still fit many of the games and honor them. But also, make a timeline that makes sense with some changes.

But alias, I was young, and it's from two years ago. Yet it says a lot I remember this AU of mine fondly. Even though at this point, there feels like there's no need for it. Including with the FNAF movie out. This stuff is basically in the past. But it was a great effort I did during the time of quarantine when COVID was still a major thing.

Anyway, here's the timeline, unedited.

1977: Fredbear's Family Diner is opened. Owned by Henry Emily and William Afton.

Throughout ever since the start of Fredbear's. Caroline Emily, Henry's wife plays a mute character named Ms. Marionette. That is part of the cast of characters.

1979: The franchise is expanded into Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Introducing more animatronic characters.

Fazbear Entertainment is born.

Caroline even at Fazbear's, plays the character of Ms. Marionette as well. She is one of the reasons why the restaurants become successful. With the major other reasons being the animatronics themselves. Including the food and entertainment.

Yet during all of these years. Despite being happily married to Joanna and her supporting the business as well. Even though she has a job as a dancer. Ever since he met Caroline. William feels this sort of sexual frustration whenever he’s with her. Mainly admiring her. Despite William considers his wife number 1.

September 1983: Henry also decides to risk the idea of letting other employees use the Springlock suits. But it sadly results in the deaths of Barry and Jack. Two trusted employees who had been working at Fredbear’s since the start. Despite taking their corpses out and paying for their funerals, Evan Afton see’s them die. This happens at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.

Because of this, few employees are allowed to wear the suits. With Henry and William mainly using them.

Evan develops a fear of the animatronics. Thinking they ate the employees. But even before this, Evan didn’t socialize much with other kids. Imagining the Fredbear plush as his friend, along with seeing the plushies of the other Fazbear characters as his friends.

Due to the incident with Jack and Barry. People start making crazy rumors about Fredbear’s.

In October 1983. Michael Afton bullies his younger brother and puts him in Fredbear's mouth. But it results in Fredbear crushing Evan’s head. With everyone there to witness it, including William.

The next few weeks is what forever changes the course of Fazbear's forever.

- During the weeks his brother is in the hospital. Michael wants to punish himself after witnessing what he had did to his brother. He begins having intense nightmares. Putting himself in his brothers place and being attacked and killed by his brother's, "Friends".

Soon his nightmares slowly end when he finally must accept that his brother will die. The nightmares soon start to cease. But they still happen at times.

- Traumatized, enraged and wanting to get even with his partner in the business. William plans to kidnap Charlie and hide her to scare Henry. To make him feel his pain. In the end, Henry would pay a ransom. But this instead results in Caroline going into the bathroom first and noticing a man in a Spring Bonnie costume. His plan changes, William kidnaps her instead. For weeks, Caroline is missing, taken captive by someone she doesn’t know. She was kidnapped during a Halloween party.

Evan’s in the hospital, while Caroline is a captive somewhere. For possibly three weeks. Though William tries to take care of her. Despite cuddling with her, playing music while she’s stuck in a box, and whatever other things.

But learning that his son will die anyway. Along with learning Caroline’s ‘Bruja’ heritage, meaning witch. William accepts the ransom money. Yet because of how he treated Caroline, William kills her anyway. In a way, because of three weeks. Her death was drawn out.

William leaves a clue to Henry of where his wife is at after the ransom is paid. Which results in Henry finding a large chest with two locks, revealing Caroline’s corpse with the words, “ALL YOUR FAULT” carved on her stomach.

Due to the tragedies with William's youngest son, two employees of his, and the unsolved murder of his wife. Henry decides to retire Fredbear's as a whole. Making a PSA that the characters have retired. Which include Fredbear, Spring Bonnie, and Ms. Marionette.

But because of these events, Caroline becomes the Puppet, Barry becomes Shadow Freddy, and Jack becomes Shadow Bonnie.

Yet Caroline died near the same time Evan’s plug was pulled by William. Given permission by the doctors and his wife. Feeling sorry for the young boy. Caroline wants to put the boy back together. Resulting in him becoming the first half of Golden Freddy.

Their sprits linger around Fazbear’s.

William’s motives were rage, jealousy, and lust. After Caroline’s death. His slow descent into sadism begins. Even though he tried to move on from the events.

But also with Caroline gone, who was considered the, “Soul” of Fazbear Entertainment. Who gave Henry good advice and was supportive. Without her at Henry’s side, Fazbear Entertainment would never be the same again after her death.

1986: With only Freddy's operating, and trying to move on from the tragedy of three years ago. But over the time, William soon learns he seems to enjoy sadism. Which results in him planning to use the Freddy’s in Hurricane as his personal killing grounds. Preying on the children that go there.

Over the course of June, four children go missing. But with the Springlock suits put away. William has to use the replacement costume instead.

In order. Susie Evans(Chica), Benjamin Allen(Bonnie), Lynn Davis(Foxy), and Gabriel Brooks(Freddy). He lures them into the back, likely the safe room or the back room.

William decides to hide the corpses in the animatronic characters just in case. Because of William’s defiling of the animatronics and hiding the corpses in there. The animatronics become possessed by the children.

Caroline is shocked, horrified, and angered by the same man who kidnapped and drawn out her death is now killing children at her family’s own restaurant. She takes care of the children’s spirits. Acting as if she were their own mother. But she is overzealous, which results in her and her, ‘Children’ trying to find the man responsible for their deaths.

Near the end of June, the animatronics start smelling like reanimated corpses. Confused and realizing he had not fixed his animatronics in a long time, Henry decides to open them. He is shocked when he discovers the corpses. Horrified and not knowing what to do, Henry tells William what he had found and asks for advice. William’s advice is not to reveal the corpses to the police. And that Henry needs to be a man and not a coward. Because if he Henry tells the police of what he had found, Freddy Fazbear’s may likely never open again.

Due to William’s successful manipulative advice, Henry decides to take the bodies and bury them behind his house. Believing incinerating their bodies is disrespectful and horrifying. But he wants to give them proper burials.

Because of these events, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza is closed. But not retired forever. Henry plans to make better animatronics that can keep the children safe. Resulting in the origin of the Toy Animatronics.

But due to Henry wanting to keep going despite the horrible events. His own sister disowns him and takes Charlie to live with her. Along with angry mobs forming against the restaurant and Henry’s attitude against the parents and police. Telling them to fuck off in a way. Which confuses and saddens people close to him. Such as Clay Burke and his wife. But especially Henry’s own sister, Jennifer.

Because of his wife’s demise and discovering the children’s corpses, Henry finally loses his faith in humanity. He becomes a gray figure who runs Fazbear Entertainment with an iron fist. Seeing nearly all of his employees as likely suspects of whoever killed his wife and the children. Not caring who really dies or not.

Taking William’s advice to heart to sweep problems under the rug. Yet somehow...there is still parts of Henry’s humanity within him. Such as being gentle with children. Including making sure the food is good and enjoyable. And maintaining some nice relationships with certain people.

But the man that opened Fredbear’s and Freddy’s was no more. All that was left was a man who didn’t care anymore, and filled with rage. Who lived in his house all alone. He was hated by all, but he didn’t care.

For William, he only rejoiced that his soul brother got all the attention. With no one caught for the missing children’s case, and people assuming it was Henry who likely killed the children.

Especially even if Fazbear’s did truly fall. He could always go back to just being his wife’s accountant as always. As she still made a lot of money. With many not knowing who he was. William can perfectly get away with his crimes. With the added bonus of making Henry feel pain that the person who took his wife and the children was still out there.

October 1986: Development of the Toy Animatronics begins. Which are based upon some toys Fazbear Entertainment had made. With William helping out in case. Luckily for Fazbear Entertainment. Other sister locations are opened.

June 1987: After having drunken sex with a random man, Jennifer Emily gives birth to Derek.

October 23rd 1987: The new and improved Freddy Fazbear's Pizza is introduced to the public. Featuring the Toy Animatronics. The restaurant is opened for a few short weeks.

The animatronics have facial recognition systems to locate any predators in the restaurant. They are an achievement in animatronic making.

Despite the risky possibility, William decides to murder children again.

During the same week William begins to murder again, Jeremy Fitzgerald is hired for the nightshift.

One of the victims is Cassidy Taylor, Jeremy’s girlfriend, who is watching the kids. She is caught by William and is saved to be killed for last when he kills the other children first. She is put in a old Fredbear springlock suit, which William sets to go, off killing her.

Compared to the last murders, William begins to get messy. He lures children with the Spring Bonnie costume again. He can't stuff the children again, so he takes their corpses and dumps them in a garbage dump, resulting in them getting found and the spirits passing on.

But Cassidy, was later found by police in the suit. Despite the others moving on, she didn’t. Because she’s furious with what William did. Now Cassidy shares Golden Freddy with Evan.

When Jeremy finds out what happens to Cassidy, he is traumatized and distraught by what happened to her.

Just in case, William messes with the system of the Toy Animatronics, to make sure they see adults as a criminal and not recognize him.

During Elizabeth’s fifth birthday party, Jeremy is bitten on the head by Mangle. Resulting in the, "Bite Of 87" and destroying the reputation of Freddy Fazbear's even more. But Jeremy survives. The only reason why Jeremy didn’t really defend himself is after Cassidy’s death, he just felt nothing anymore except guilt. With the idea that he feels suicidal and responsible for her and the children’s deaths. Which is why he still kept going to Freddy’s, because he didn’t care.

The Toy Animatronics are scrapped, with the older models kept to be refurbished. Due to almost being caught, William has to think of how he can kill children again. With his experience on working on animatronics with Henry, he begins planning to make his own.

During Jeremy’s recovery in the hospital while he’s in a coma. He goes through a nightmarish adventure in his own head. Haunted by his experience at Freddy’s, and blaming himself for Cassidy’s death. Remembering his time working at Freddy’s and other things. But with the help of Caroline, Cassidy is able to go into Jeremy’s mind and tells him it wasn’t his fault. Finally putting Jeremy’s guilt to rest and wake up from his coma.

Because of dying in the older Fredbear suit, she is now the second half of Golden Freddy with Evan. She is more angry than Evan considering the circumstances of her death. Which Caroline didn’t want to happen.

1988: Afton Robotics becomes a subdivision of Fazbear Entertainment. With Henry still being the main CEO.

1989: Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza is opened again in Hurricane. With Henry taking parts of the Toy Animatronics and combing them with the originals, completely redesigning them.

During these years, because of the, “Bite Of 87″. The animatronics can’t walk during the day time. So the nightshift is kept open. Sometimes other employees, Henry, or Phone Guy take the shift. Sometimes a guard will get killed, which will result in Henry hiding the corpse. Possibly buried behind his house. Most employees would quit.

November 1993: After years of development, William finally reveals the Funtime Animatronics to the public. With the intention to open a new sister location named, “Circus Baby’s Pizza World”.

Convincing Henry and the board that the claws and holes in the animatronics chests are to surprise the children with ice cream and other birthday goodies. William is able to put them out in public after they are deemed safe.

Before Circus Baby’s is opened, in Hurricane, Foxy is beaten by enraged customer with a crowbar. A person who just simply wanted to tarnish Fazbear’s considering how Henry ran things. He is arrested but soon let go. Because of the damage, Foxy at times is out of order, or he will work at times.

Because of this, William gets drunk to celebrate this news and sleeps with Joanna. Thinking he’s just joking at first, but she slowly realizes as what her drunk husband is saying is true. That he killed her best friend Caroline, the money he got was her ransom, not from a casino. Including that he was responsible for killing all of those children in those two cases.

Joanna decides to secretly pack up her belongings first while Elizabeth is out with friends. William notices this and she says she is gonna take Elizabeth on a business trip with her. But he realizes what she is doing after she reveals what she heard from him while he was drunk. This results in him keeping Joanna hostage in a secret compartment of theirs in the basement. With William telling a returning Elizabeth is that her mother is on a tour, while Joanna cries knowing her daughter is now in the care of a monster. Despite he warned her that if she doesn’t keep quiet, he’ll sadly make their daughter join her in the room too.

During this time, William tries to get Joanna to understand what he did, to possibly forgive him. But she is more horrified by his reasoning for what he did. Such as his intense hatred for Michael and Henry, wanting to leave Elizabeth’s innocence out of it, and thinking they would be okay with him killing children. Especially by the fact she and her daughter were his impulse control.

During the opening day of Circus Baby’s, Elizabeth is sadly killed by Circus Baby. Resulting in William closing the restaurant and saying it was due to the leaks. But also during this, Joanna escapes the room.

She tries to escape and find her daughter. But she goes into his workshop and discovers what the Funtime Animatronics are supposed to be since they were brought back to their house. Discovering things such as the Spring Bonnie costume, and soon what’s inside Circus Baby. William then discovers her, which results in her telling him he killed their daughter.

In a struggle, and William trying to push her off of him. Joanna is sadly impaled by Ballora who was being worked on. Now Joanna dies in William’s arms.

Because of this, William throws Joanna’s car away. Along with William soon starting Circus Baby’s Entertainment And Rental. Putting out a PSA that a rental service is much better. But also because of supposed gas leaks that William made up about.

The sudden disappearance of Joanna and Elizabeth spooks people. But even with no proof, people start thinking, mainly Henry start believing William may of been the one who killed the children.

At this point, William has truly lost EVERYTHING. While slowly disowning his eldest son back then. He soon starts blaming everything on Michael and Henry. Now with his daughter and wife gone. Who to him were his impulse control. With the memory of Evan slowly gone from his mind.

Unknown to everyone, Circus Baby and Ballora are possessed by Elizabeth and Joanna.

June 1996: Michael Afton takes on the name of Mike Schmidt to work at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.

The 10th anniversary of the first murders at Freddy’s takes place. With Charlie and her friends returning to Hurricane to honor their memory.

For three years, William had thought to himself whether he should just finally kill himself. With now Fazbear Entertainment and even his own sub division losing more money as the years gone by.

William finally decides to snap. Resulting in him returning to Hurricane. With no Joanna and Elizabeth to hold him back. He returns to inflict more pain on the people or Hurricane, mainly Charlie.

During the week, Charlie meets Michael for the first time in years. But as the missing children’s parents start being murdered. She starts to think Michael may be the one killing them. Remembering parts of her past with him that he had issues. But to her surprise, William kidnaps her and plans to make everyone feel fear of her going missing. Including to kill many others such as her friends and father before killing her.

As the police and her friends try to search for Charlie. Mike is working at Freddy’s and learns what’s going on and wants to help if he can. But during all of this, Jessica and Marla are kidnapped by William as well, but not killing them.

The original missing children’s parents are killed, officer Dunn, other police officers, while Clay is very injured and his wife is taken hostage at one point. Along with John soon finding Charlie, but is beaten to death by William with a crowbar in front of her.

But during the situation where Clay is injured and officers are killed. Henry had join Clay to find Charlie. This results in Henry and William having a fight to the death. Which results in William nearly killing Henry. But Will decides to let him live because he thinks killing Charlie before killing him first will make him suffer more. Which saddens Henry as he hears Charlie’s muffled cries for help.

In an event, Mike soon finds Charlie and the others. All while taking place at Freddy’s. Which results in Mike, Charlie, and others trying to survive the animatronics and William. Who is also destroying the animatronics one by one.

But to everyone’s surprise, the spirits of the children and Caroline rise, which horrifies William. Thinking the old Spring Bonnie springlock suit will protect him. He holds Charlie hostage again to keep them away. But to his surprise, Charlie activates the suit, killing William inside. After this, everyone decides to just simply leave.

Despite their killer finally being killed, Caroline and the children don’t move on sadly. As the years had gone by, mainly seeing William dying opened her eyes. She starts to see the errors of what she had done. Terrified of the possibility because of guards they have killed. That her children may never move on and may burn in Hell instead.

During the middle of the night, Henry has recovered the night before and discovers William's corpse. But instead of reporting it to the police. He decides to board up the safe room to make William suffer and to never be found. Saying, "Good Riddance" to his former partner and the man he considered his brother.

Despite officers going to investigate. They can’t find the safe room. With Henry denying having to do anything with what happened. Due to the safe room being hidden well and the restaurant being closed for some time. William’s body is never recovered.

November 1997: The 10th anniversary for the 2nd missing children’s case happens. With Michael, Charlie, and others attending their memorial. But as that happens, Michael soon starts hearing his mother's voice in his head. Telling him to go Circus Baby's Entertainment And Rental to help them.

Michael still taking on the name Mike Schmidt, goes to work for Circus Baby's. Hoping to understand why the voice wanted him to go there. But now things have gotten complicated. With Circus Baby speaking to him and seems to recognize him.

During Michael's work week. Joanna wants Michael to free her and his sister. But Elizabeth desperately wants to be free. She comes up with a more disastrous plan. To use Michael's corpse as a disguise to get them out. But Joanna refuses to join in.

It’s a spiritual fight between a mother and a daughter. But to Joanna’s dismay, Elizabeth gets the better of her, due to being so scared and just wanting to be free from their torment.

During all of this, Charlie wants to investigate what happened in 1987. She goes to find Jeremy Fitzgerald and interviews him of what he knows. Revealing what sort of memories he had, despite being disabled. Soon she learns the Toy Animatronics soon went into the development of the Funtime Animatronics. Which leads her into what’s going on with Michael.

With Elizabeth holding more power over her mother, she uses all of the Funtime Animatronics to merge into Ennard. Yet even during this, Elizabeth and Joanna struggle to fight over who’s in control.

On his fifth night, Ennard tries attacking Michael. During his fight for survival, Michael is sadly killed. But because of this, Elizabeth feels guilt over killing her own older brother, realizing what she had done. But to Ennard’s surprise, the Puppet arrives to the facility. It is revealed Caroline had discovered where Joanna and Elizabeth were at. Lending a hand to help them be freed. By giving Joanna telepathy to speak to her oldest son.

Being so tired of death, she uses her, ‘Bruja’ magic to be able to heal Michael and bring him back to life.

Ennard leaves Michael with Charlie, who takes care of him. Now Ennard is free, living out in the Hurricane wilderness. But afterwards, Henry soon learns what the Funtime Animatronics were for. He feels incredibly guilty to learn this is what William made. Despite the difficulty, he tries his best to rearrange their systems so they don’t kill anyone.

Afterwards, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza in Hurricane finally closes down. Even though Fazbear Entertainment is still going with other restaurants in America. Including Circus Baby’s Entertainment And Rental.

2003: Henry finally kills himself by using the Fredbear animatronic that crushed Evan’s head to crush his own. He is found the next morning, and everyone finds out. Fazbear Entertainment has lost their main CEO, yet they still go on.

But due to his anger at William, and enraged of innocents being hurt by sinners. Henry possesses the Fredbear animatronic to roam around Hurricane and anywhere else. To punish the guilty. Whether they are serial killers, rapists, traffickers, or anyone else. He sadly becomes judge, jury, and executioner.

As the years go on, he is known as the, “Bearman” by the locals. A cryptid in the likes of Bigfoot, the Dover Demon, Lizard Man, and any other creatures that are mainly known as myth and legends. Despite the obvious killings of the guilty.

He never resorts to hurting the innocent. Yet because of the unsolvable killings, this makes people terrified of what this creature is. With some who may of seen him just petrified by the sight of him. The other reasons why Henry is also doing this because he feels he is just as much as a monster as William was. That this is his time to repent. But also the hopeful possibility, that just maybe, just maybe. If he kills enough or keeps going. Caroline may come back.

Henry has become what the children had become. But sadly more worse. And he knows what he is doing.

After his corpse is found by Clay and other police officers, he goes into Henry’s house and finds his journal. Revealing where the original missing children are at. Their bodies are buried with their parents.

During these years after 1996. Despite having support from Jessica(Who’s relationship becomes stronger when doing their own personal therapy), Carlton, and others. Because of the events with William in 1996, and her father finally being dead. Charlie is sadly scarred by the events. Which led to mental problems, trauma, and seclusion. Even having breakdowns that would make people she dated retreat from her.

Even after in 1997 with her mother telling her she’s proud to have her as a daughter. And that her death wasn’t her fault.

2014: Derek Emily now with a surname Anderson, takes control of Fazbear Entertainment as the only willing relative to Henry to take over. He makes a false promise to bring joy back into Freddy Fazbear’s again.

October 2019: Fazbear's Fright is soon to be opened. Katherine Grady takes on the job to watch the place before it opens. Who was encouraged by one of her best friends, Millie Fitzsimmons to take the job. The first night is a breeze. Until Alan The Phone Dude and crew find an actual animatronic. Which is actually Springtrap.

Fazbear’s Fright is now an anchor for the dead. With William being found, and the spirits of Caroline and the children being there. Caroline thinks this is the chance to fully destroy William and possibly free her children and herself.

But what makes it an anchor of the dead. This is the location Mike worked at in 1996. But also the location of where the original murders had happened. Now it had been redesigned and messed with.

Unknown to Katherine and others. Fazbear’s Fright is part of this initiative by Fazbear Entertainment led by Derek to make a mockery of the rumors of Freddy’s. Including to make good PR for upcoming projects. Such as the development of a new mall.

Katherine wants to find out more about Fazbear's. With the help of Betty Burke and her son. She soon finds Michael Afton AKA Mike Schmidt. Who physically still looks like he's in his 20's and near being 30. With an ID saying he was born in 1993.

This also results in them finding Charlie. Who is highly against Fazbear's Fright. Who is still suffering from trauma endured in 1996. Amusingly, her first interaction with Charlie is Kathy first breaking into her house. With Charlie taking her captive because she thinks she’s a burglar.

With Caroline/The Puppet informing the three of them to burn down the attraction. During one night, the three try to burn it down. But Springtrap is aware of what is going on. He is enraged to see his eldest son who is still alive. Along with Charlie as well.

After a fight to the death between Springtrap and Michael. Along with Charlie and Katherine aiding Michael. The attraction is burned down.

Michael, Katherine, and Charlie escape with their lives. With the building destroyed and most of their animatronic bodies finally being burned, the children can finally go to Heaven. Which surprises but fills Caroline with joy. But to her surprise, she senses William is somehow not destroyed. Despite to her children’s dismay of her not joining them, she promises them she’ll join them soon. But that she needs to take care of something before she fully moves on.

But while all of this was happening. Derek has been setting up a special project. Considering several Freddy’s around the country aren’t doing well. He has been preparing the Fazbear Funtime Service. A project in which animatronics are delivered to people’s actual houses.

On November 25th 2019, the Fazbear Funtime Service is launched. Amazingly and due to the surprise of COVID-19 spreading into America. The service becomes more successful than it was meant to be.

The construction of the Freddy Fazbear Mega Pizza Plex starts.

2020: The Fazbear Funtime Service goes on. But for some reason, a virus gets into the systems, and causes the animatronics to go berserk. During this, Vanessa now taking on the name Vanny starts enacting acts of violence and anarchy among Hurricane. With Carlton trying to investigate.

Ever since Fazbear’s Fright, Vanny has known Springtrap and overtime. She has been helping him. Including having the help of another employee named Matt.

To Derek’s surprise, Tanya discovers the reason behind Fazbear’s Frights and tries to tell Charlie and whoever else about what misdeeds Derek has been doing.

During those three years. Katherine and Michael slowly begin a relationship. That went from friendship to something more intimate. But unknown to Katherine, Michael keeps up the act that was a late son William had. Yet Charlie and others soon start to notice. Despite they have nothing against Michael. They insist he needs to tell the truth of who he is and how old he actually.

Including Charlie and Jessica fully embrace an intimate relationship as well.

Throughout 2020, Caroline tries to right her own wrongs by becoming mainly a Pacifist. A being that keeps to herself, hiding among people, trying to help innocents if she can. But never killing anyone again. Along with searching for William if she can ever find him. Luckily for her, she puts on a hooded cloak to hide most of herself.

Springtrap now in hiding, tries to live out whatever this life that is his now. Killing whoever that is in his way. Trying to look like a homeless man with an old hooded jacket, and a disposable face mask. Killing whoever is in his way, or whoever angers him.

Ever since 1997, Ennard now simply grown apart as Scrap Ballora and Scrap Baby, wander the wilderness as well. Sadly not having any purpose. But with Joanna possibly trying to follow in her best friends footsteps of protecting the innocent. But also simply not wanting to be separated from her daughter.

2021: Endgame.

After the events that happened at the Freddy Fazbear Mega Pizza Plex. Along with finally learning more about the stories of ‘Bearman’ killing the guilty that are kidnapping or harming the innocent. But also reading that there are similarities with a certain bear she knew from Fredbear’s Family Diner.

There are also sightings of a Puppet in a hooded cloak, two old worn down Funtime Animatronics, and finally, what appears to be a tall man in a worn out hoodie. Yet for some reason looks like an undead animatronic rabbit.

But also for some time, her parents graves looks like it has been visited by something at certain nights. Leaving large bear like footprints, and little claw marks on her mothers gravestone. As if the visitor was possibly hugging it.

It also helps there have been at times, a certain ‘Bearman’ has watched her from time to time. Including her finding out the same Fredbear animatronic that had crushed Evan’s head had disappeared two decades ago. Which shocks her as she realizes the horrifying possibility of what happened after reading the last few pages of her father’s journal of how he wanted to punish people like William if he can after his suicide.

Charlie takes over Fazbear Entertainment after Derek is caught for his misdeeds. She goes back to Fredbear’s Family Diner and has help to plan something.

Tired from the pain and suffering. But also horrified by the idea William is still out there. Along with even Joanna, Elizabeth, her mother, and even her father. All of the children have moved on...but not them.

During this as well, she soon learns her mother’s secret heritage which explains the hauntings even more now. That she was mainly a good witch.

She wants it to end. All in one place. With the building being reconstructed, her taking a Rockstar Freddy and remaking it. Along with researching her mothers heritage and possibly using it for this situation.

Operation: Rapture is at hand.

[misscammiedawn]

(Cammie note: this has been in our drafts since Dec 2023)

Reblogging this today, coincidentally a year later, as it came to mind.

It was about the time this post was made that we received our DID diagnosis. The recording of that session where we received the F44.81 stamp had me directly say to my clinician "But I don't get blackouts though."

Denial. It comes and goes in waves but it never stops its barrage.

The post above is yet another kernel of proof. I do have memory gaps and missing time. Quite often. The issue is that I sensationalized the idea in my head and it's not a sharp switch between "know" and "don't know" or "remember" and "don't remember".

It's a gradient. A smooth transition between states that simply cannot be internally perceived.

Today required me to pull up my divorce records for a legal thing we are navigating. I had looked through my emails and folders and found them empty. I looked through social media and Discord for references to the date so I could do a targeted search.

I found nothing.

Past us had deleted every reference to the event. Of course she did. When we are hurt... Really hurt we dissociate hard enough that in the moment we act like there was never an upsetting event. In 2022 we tore out our own heart and then... didn't mention it. When I look through my journals I can recognize the blank spots now. January 2002, September 2005, the entirety of 2016 and 2019 for some reason, and of course July 2022.

2019-2020 is a blur. The only reason I have records of 2020 is because my therapist at the time was holding me accountable for my journaling. I have learned that I cannot trust the things I typed in that period of my life anyway.

I refer to it as "self-sabotage" in the original post but I think it's more a disruption in a framework designed to make a neat continuity.

The divorce happened. I know this. Deleting the chatlogs and documents and email correspondence does not change that fact. But it is now "in 2020 I got divorced" and when you interrogate the concept and try to apply a memory to it you may get the room this happened in, it was a Zoom call, I was at my desk.

Do you remember what you felt when you saw her for the first time after a year?

Do you remember who you went to for comfort afterwards, if you did at all?

Were you afraid?

Was it daytime or night time?

How long did the call take?

What age/gender was the judge?

How many people were on the call with us?

Were you happy or sad when it was over? Did you cry? Did you scream? Did you celebrate?

Do you actually remember this huge event in your life?!

...turns out I don't remember. I didn't let myself remember. But I know what happened and that's enough.

This right here, the ability to rationalize through things, is why people (until recently) did not get diagnosed with DID until their late 30s. Albeit there is a level of clinician bias and a anecdotal 7-10 years of misdiagnosis adding to the fact.

So why did I write this today?

Well I needed my divorce records and that meant opening Hell Box.

Opening Hell Box is always a discomforting experience for us. It's flooded with things we cannot deny. Things we cannot permanently throw away (as well as external hard drives filled with stuff that I would dwell on if I were to have access to them).

Inside I find photographs and drawn images that I do not recall. Letters from former loved ones, proof that they cared about me and kept in touch with me even after I abandoned them. I had forgotten that such letters existed. I shall likely forget again.

I find legal documents including the one I sought. I find a Sonic the Hedgehog themed gift still in box and I wonder "who got this for me? When? Why?" and of course "How did you end up in Hell Box?"

It's that magnet against eyeballs feeling again. That complete and utter void that you sense and decide "it's not important", "don't worry about it" and you just let it go.

It's easy to let it go.

Just don't dwell on it.

And so it is. The papers are retrieved. I close the lid on the hell box again and pretend it is not once more.

Alas.

(April 2024 edit: fuuuuuck! We need to work out our divorce date again for post citizenship paperwork and forgot again!! BACK TO THE GOD DAMNED HELL BOX WITH US!)

Hypnotic Amnesia and Eternal Sunshine

Personal post

Trying to watch movies again and put on Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind because I've not watched it since my BPD diagnosis and apparently support communities seem to think it's a perfect and empathetic media representation of the condition and I wanted to go through it again with that in mind.

Firstly, they're not wrong. But I'll unpack that in private.

What I wanted to note is just how realistic the depiction of soft mental gymnastics and continuity of consciousness is. Strange of me to say how a plot of "scientifically erasing memories" is realistic, but I've played around with hypnosis and dissociate enough to know what it's like to experience.

The present day segments of the movie are punctuated by Joel writing in his journal. We get to experience his internal narrative as he experiences the events of the day. It helps build his character, get an idea of how he perceives the world and most importantly it gets to show how he ignores the "blips" of his machine induced amnesia.

For those who have not seen the movie, the story revolves around a relationship between Jim Carrey's Joel character and Kate Winslet's Clementine character. After they break up Joel discovers that Clementine erased Joel from her mind using a procedure that targets memories.

It's actually a good allegory for how BPD break-ups go. *looks over shoulder at my Hell Box, where all the things that remind me of my former life go to die; and the external hard drive that contains all the chatlogs and journals from that period of my life that I needed to remove to prevent re-reading them and triggering myself*

During the intro of the movie Joel, post-procedure, skips work and goes to Montauk and bumps into Clementine. Neither one of them recognizing one another because they both had the procedure; during which they meet and build an organic relationship that is a little bit influenced by their unconscious comforts with one another; having built a long lasting relationship together.

The amnesia and the unconscious compulsions ("Meet me in Montauk") aren't treated as programming or commands by Joel, though.

He opens his journal and notes ripped pages "I don't remember doing that" and the gap in time and simply plows through.

When I am responding to an amnesia suggestion or am faced with evidence of my own self-sabotage, I can sometimes perceive it as an act of an earlier Camden to try and prevent me from experiencing something, but more often than not there's a little bit of a dysphoric feeling which I describe as a like charged magnet against my eyes that softly pushes you away from the offending evidence.

You don't see something like that and instantly go straight to "No. This is WRONG. I would NEVER do something like that!" and start getting worked up. You note that it's odd and something inside you just ushers you along out of that moment, like the discomfort of experiencing it is so strong that you do not linger in it.

I see a lot of takes from movies where people project their "that makes no sense" "why didn't he?" attitudes, but they handle it about as would be expected. When he feels the compulsion to suddenly go to Montauk it's not like a maiden being risen from their sheets to unlock the window for Count Dracula, it's a series of soft triggers.

Standing at the train station on his way to work he sees the train going in the other direction. A train he has taken in the past to a destination that holds a significance he doesn't quite understand, but it just feels right. He is driven by the impulsive urge because by seeing the train, knowing where it's going it's just the thing he should do. As naturally and organically as anything else.

When I was first playing around with hypnosis I always thought that a trigger would do as it does in media. Make you recoil, eyes dilate, code switch into an obedient setting. But no, it's just a drive, a nudge, a reminder. Don't dwell on it. Just do it.

As Joel and Clementine talk there's one moment that gets me. Clementine, after saying her name, sharply orders Joel not to make any jokes. Joel is confused, not sure what she means.

"Huckleberry Hound?" "I don't know what that is."

Later in the movie we discover that he was familiar with the "Oh my darlin', oh my darlin'" song, but it got erased because it is mapped to her in his mind and anything that reminds him of her has to go.

And that's how things are with triggers, connections and mental associations. It's so easy for innocuous things to be reminders of things/people and there are always going to be circumstances that you want erased.

One of the reasons I don't enjoy movies that much anymore is that when I was married I ran a movie theatre. Movies and that era of my life are linked. An unbreakable bond. To enjoy movies is to be who I was when I was married... before I came out the closet... and doing so is uncomfortable for me. So that like powered magnet in my brain just pushes it away, I don't enjoy watching movies anymore. Watching movies makes me feel bad and I don't want to feel bad.

Especially this one, which played a significant role in my getting married in the first place.

But here I am. Watching it. Enjoying it. Not turning away.

It's fascinating just what the brain can and will do to keep you from thinking and feeling on certain topics.

Trying to rescue the part of me that enjoys cinema is going to be a god damned project, but this stuff once brought me joy. I know it can again.

This post kind of got away from me, huh?

[strangerays]

Nothing in Particular Update #2

It’s the Nothing and Particular and Everything update part two: the electric booglaloo. This one is long, so strap in.

It’s been a while since I wrote an update for this story. To be honest, this one gave me a lot of stress, but here I am! Writing this story feels like it is going very slow. I keep telling myself I’ve made a lot of progress (which is true, I have) but for some reason it doesn’t feel like I have? This is likely just my own insecurity. To be frank, I can’t believe I’m still writing this story. If you had told me in February that I’d still be writing this when the weather got warm, I would have laughed.

I am SO excited that I will finally be able to focus on writing now that I’m out of school. I’m afraid to speak the rough deadline that I’ve given myself for this story (the end of August-early September) but now that I’ve spoken it into existence, I hope I can finish! (I hope I can stop watching dumb videogame playthroughs and listening to The Magnus Archives and get something done)

Here is a link to the story introduction and previous update!

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-); @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-writer @baguettethebooklover​ @corkytheguar @writeherewaiting

STORY CHANGES/THOUGHTS/IDEAS: 

Here is a big one: I’ve been trying to write this story for myself. I started writing Ray’s story from a place that was personal to me, but I feel like, as that part of myself has begun to heal, I’ve started to think about what a reader would want out of the story. I’m realizing that this is my story so it has to be what I want. Drafts are drafts for a reason, so I’m going to try to get better at letting myself explore what is fun to me.

I always thought I was a discovery writer (I still sort of think I am) but as I’ve finished small sections of the story, I am finding that it’s very helpful to do a rough outline of scenes in upcoming chapters. (I also recommend turning to this if something doesn’t work and you need to retrace your steps!) Just helps me feel more organized!

Jude’s character has got to be one of the most difficult personalities I’ve ever written. Putting her beside Ray just makes it harder. Where Ray is secretive and keeps to herself, Jude is ready to unpack her entire life’s story to anyone. I find that I really have to slow down when writing their interactions. I know this is going to be nowhere near perfect in the first draft, but I think it is a main contributor to my slow writing.

I really like this little narrative I’ve created in the background of the main plot with Ray and Lonan. I love writing these scenes because it’s a way for me to use Lonan when he’s not actively with Ray and to show why Ray is predetermined about things at certain points. Also I love their friendship so much <3

CONGRATULATIONS TO ME on starting to read again because I forgot how much of a help reading other people’s stories can be when you’re struggling with your own oml

I now have a set timeline for the story! Takes place ~4-5 months.

I did that thing where you write a letter from the characters’ perspectives and that was kind of fun

Also just for fun I thought I’d add in that I spent an hour and a half last week filling up a page in my sketchbook with diagrams of the plot. It feels good to be a mad scientist

EXCERPTS UNDER THE CUT!

*At this point, I’m only sharing writing that I am really proud of in order not to spoil the story! This is because I am unsure whether I want to publish this story someday. With that said, that does NOT give you permission to steal my ideas!

CHAPTER: NIGHT CRIES

#1

In the last week of summer, I did everything I could to avoid post-vacation blues. I rode my bike along the gravel roads with no destination, wore my dark sunglasses to people-watch, and fed salami to the minnows that floated on the cusps of boulders. Usually, I sat still for so long that my elbows turned a deep shade of red and the blood in my toes buzzed.

New pockets seemed to open up in Point Blink every day. And with them, came new people. Most of them were older – a middle aged woman who caked her lipstick on, an uncle estranged from his brother, a couple who had miscarried. I hadn’t forgotten about the kids at Mothouse. It was impossible not to think about them. It wasn’t just that I’d never seen them before.

#2

The girl’s limp cigarette bled a trail of smoke that seeped into my Vans. My shirt folded like skin over my bed post. Haunted the room – foiled my mauve sheets and teased my locks. Swept the curtains apart and heated the oak floor. Beams of moonlight leapt to my bookcases; highlighted the posters from various podcasts and bands that I listened to. Wind whistled when I was too still. She forced me to look outside, onto the dark cul-de-sac lit by the reflections of forming rain puddles. No matter whether I sat at my desk or burrowed under my sheets, I felt out of place. She made my bedroom louder. She made my bedroom quieter.

I decided it would probably be best if I never saw her again.

To be honest, I don’t remember much about writing this chapter because it was over a month ago (sorry) but I’m still quite happy with the prose! This comes in after Ray sees Jude for the first time at Mothouse. Based on a first impression, decides that she might want be friends with Jude.

CHAPTER: SORRY

#1 

If you spend any long amount of time with someone, you’ll become a thief to their behaviors. If I stared long enough, trees began to replace all of the people we’d ever seen. Oaks had roots that serpentined the ground like children splashing in the bay, pines with needles like spindly old hands, maples with hollows like watchful eyes – all things Lonan had taught me to observe.

CHAPTER: GHOSTS

Then there was the sea – violent and knowing as it romped within bays and alcoves. She had eaten me many times before, both my father and Lonan too. Gulped them as if they were shining plastic wrappings left behind after a meal. I spited her for inviting me once again. I reached up again to grapple with the next rung. It twisted and offered a low whistle.

In these two chapters, Ray is on a photography trip with her class. This is the first time she’s been on this annual trip without Lonan. She left that morning with a goal of being independent and learning to get on with one of the only people she has felt close to. I realize now that the Ghost excerpt sort of sounds like her dad and Lonan have drowned?? Which was not my intention??

CHAPTER: A DIVINE INTERVENTION

#1

“Do you believe in ghosts?” A raspy voice teased from behind me. Cigarette smoke tickled the words, like they were stuck together with jelly inside of her. The question wasn’t particularly calming, but it strengthened my grip on reality. As if the foiled leaves, bark, and dandelions had sprung from the ground and begun to float, they came crashing back down.

I was made of stone.

“I’m not a ghost,” Jude said. “If I was, a ladder would be a pretty counteractive way to outrun me. I could just float up there and haunt you.”

“Maybe you’re a ghost,” she asked, her voice distant.

I shifted my grasp up and down the sides of the ladder. “What?”

“Don’t you believe in ghosts?”

I was reading back some of Ray and Jude’s conversation and there are so many snippets of dialogue that make me laugh because I totally forgot I wrote them... but UGhhH I don’t know if I want to share them because I don’t know whether or not I want to try and publish the story someday. Speaking of that, it’s sort of because it’s so personal to me? I don’t know (this is for future me to pursue) Honestly though, reading these back has made me really happy :)

#2

I wanted to shake her by the shoulders. She acted as though Point Blink could breathe – as though corpses in the cemetery might pull the grass away like dead skin, neighbors would draw blades, and blood-salt would stain her clothes rather than that from the sea. “Trust me, they’ll forgive you. But, I’m just saying, most people around here don’t care nearly as much as you think so. Most of them are way older anyways, so they’re tired of us.”

“Is that you complimenting yourself?” Jude asked.

“Not intentionally,” I said, “but I will take it.”

She laughed. “You shouldn’t be so nice to strangers.”

I wasn’t trying to be. I just didn’t think I wanted her to dislike me.

#3

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing or a good thing,” Jude said. “Being good gets you tucked into a thousand different memories. Being good makes you live a lifetime.”

I almost laughed, but then I wondered what I was to her now. “I don’t talk to lots of people.”

“Sometimes there aren’t many people to talk to. But I thought you would have loads of friends.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I thought you would too.”

Alarm like grief lit her eyes, but she laughed. I did too.

“You hardly know me,” she said quietly.

Then the girls explore some old newspapers and letters in a fire tower! Spooky fun!

CHAPTER: YOU LET THIS HAPPEN

This isn’t a major spoiler as it’s literally in the blurb I wrote, but Ray and Jude are caught (targeted..??)  in a fire. Ray is brought back to a field where she is questioned.

CHAPTER: NOTHING HAPPENS

He was quiet for several moments while he painted a picture with what little details I had given him, then said, “It’s unfair. I think that’s why it hurts.”

“Because we almost got hurt?”

“No. Because it came true.”

His gentle, ragged voice made me think I could tell him anything. Sometimes, I think that, even then, he knew I left something out.

Ray talks to Lonan after the fire... She’s being a bit dishonest about what actually happened.

CHAPTER: WHY NOT

I remember how the barest amount of red light glared across Lonan’s entire scalp and washed his boyish curls magenta from the roots out. When Jude leaned back on the counter, she melded into the darkness.

This chapter is just part of the narrative that I created with Ray and Lonan’s friendship. There isn’t much I want to spoil from it, but I liked this paragraph!

CHAPTER: INEVITABLE

“We didn’t do anything,” I said.        

“Someone did. Why won’t you believe me?”

 “I think I would remember whether or not someone was there with us,” I said, “even if we didn’t have the picture.”

This was untrue. I hung lots of photos in my room. A long time would pass before I went to a restaurant again, or a specific coven on one of the beaches, or an outfit that I wore, and I would look into one of my pictures and remember it, and then I would be quite angry with myself that I had almost forgotten that thing forever.

“I don’t think you understand what I mean,” Jude said. I didn’t like the way she’d lowered her voice. She sounded different every time I saw her. She reached out her arm so our photos were side by side and our fingers were almost touching. “I don’t think you want to.”

Ray finds herself alone in the school’s dark room with Jude. Based on the contents of one of her photos, she tries to convince Ray that there is more to the fire than what meets the eye.

CHAPTER: (this one is untitled)

I didn’t mind that he followed me everywhere. Even when he was quiet, I didn’t find it strange to be around him. We sat silently through films and went on walks. Once, he had fallen asleep while watching The Iron Giant in my bed. I didn’t know if I should wake him up once it ended. I tried not to stare at him. He’d rolled onto his side and bundled himself in one of my blankets covered in stars up to his shoulders so only his small face poked out like a baby owl’s. His soft breath messed his dirty gold coils. They were at their longest. Except for the ebbing light from a candle on my desk, my house was asleep – Lonan needed to go home.

For the first time, I wondered if anyone cared where he was.

Another small part of the little friendship narrative! (This really is the part of the story where I get nostalgic for my childhood, isn’t it) Ray starts to discover more about Lonan’s home life in this part of the story, but there’s not much that I think I want to reveal about that for now.

CHAPTER: THE CRUX OF IT

Why did I feel so paranoid? I found myself staring out the window, into the film of blue that the late sun shown onto the grass and trying to remember what summer felt like.

My main problem was that I didn’t know how to talk to Jude unless it was about Sugarfell. I ran from the hush of cigarette smoke behind closing doors and heard her loud voice in conversations. Even though there might have still been a part of me that wanted to be friends with her, I didn’t have much to base that feeling off of. I could have spent hours clicking the little pieces of her that I had together, but the crux of it was that I would never know Jude unless I forced myself to.

For some reason, that really scared me.

I spent all week trying to think of what to say to her. By Friday afternoon, I still had nothing.

I left off writing with Ray actively avoiding Jude’s little investigation into the arsonist. Ray doesn’t want to be involved in this because she feels that it will throw her sense of normalcy off course. She really just wants to learn how to adapt to a life without her best friend. (It doesn’t help that she’s got fresh trauma)

What will Ray decide? I don’t know. We shall see. (just kidding I know)

Sorry this update was longer! I think I would like to start updating more often than once a month just because they would be shorter and those of you reading this won’t forget what happened in the last update. There are thousands and thousands of words that didn’t show up in this update because - like I said - I don’t know whether I want to publish this story ever?? I’ll probably talk more about this in a separate update.

Thank you so much to those of you who read about my story! I hope you enjoy it!

:)

p.s. btw I now have a myWriteClub account! You can check it out here and stalk me as I tragically fail my writing goals!

[konglindorm]

So I wrote another book. The Shoemaker Prince is a collection of thirteen short stories based on or inspired by folklore, and it’s coming out on November 2. Digital preorders are open now through most major retailers, and print preorders open through the Wax Heart website on October 12. And I’m super excited!

Some of these stories I wrote as recently as August—I think one I actually finished in early September. It happened to me, very suddenly, as stories sometimes do, and I knew it belonged in this collection.

Other stories I’ve been working on for a very long time. I wrote the first draft of “Violet and Zorzal” when I was sixteen, and I consider it my first real story—the first one I wrote down in its entirety that was for myself and not a school assignment. Before that, my stories existed only in my head.

I began “The Girl With No Heart in Her Body” when I was somewhere in the eight to ten range. It’s a story about a girl born literally heartless, and I think it was my small child attempt to make sense of my undiagnosed mental illness—most of the stories I remember telling myself at this age were about girls with something missing, and no one around them understanding what was wrong with them or why they couldn’t just be like everyone else. The story has obviously been updated significantly since my mental first draft twenty years ago, but it’s still very important to me.

Other stories include:

The title story, about a boy with amnesia, red shoes, and a pet cardinal.

“The Princess Who Refused to Marry a Merman,” a story about a sailor princess with a missing, enchanted fiancé.

A retelling of “The Frog Prince.”

A retelling of “The Frog Princess.”

A retelling of “Puss in Boots” from the perspective of the princess that the cat and his owner are attempting to hoodwink.

At this exact moment, my personal favorite stories are “The Princess Who Refused to Marry a Merman” and “The Ogre Bride,” both largely original stories, though obviously heavily inspired by folk traditions. So keep an eye out for those, and the other eleven!

 (Because people often ask: This book can be purchased in print or digitally, from Wax Heart Press or from most major booksellers. All purchases support me both financially and in terms of sort of passive promotion. I get the same amount of money for print purchases no matter where you buy them, but while I get a fraction of the profits from ebook sales elsewhere, I do get 100% of the profit from ebook sales through waxheartpress.com. You’re also charged a dollar less for buying it from there. I make about the same amount of money from print sales and from ebook sales through Wax Heart Press, and a bit less from ebook sales through other channels. But I am super grateful for any purchase you make, and you should absolutely do what works best for you!)

[inkykeiji]

Clairi 🥺 you feel like home. Sometimes you venture out, travel the sights of what other tumblr accounts have to offer, but you always come back to the sweet bb Clari!! I’m not sure words can properly convey the emotions I feel for you?? Because you’re such an amazing person, the amount of effort you put into your writings, your responses to people, and the effort you put into getting up every day and providing us with your beautiful essence. I hope you know that you were one of the first creators I found on here when I first came into tumblr (since September or august?) my first fic I read from you was your touya-nii series 🥺 please that makes me so nostalgic because I remember laying in my bed and scrolling through your fics for hours!! I couldn’t believe three hours passed by but they did! Your fics suck time out of existence and put me in a liminal limbo <3! You’ve come so far and I’m so proud to see you thriving just as from before! I hope you have a wonderful night 😚 (it’s 3:47 am for me!) lol. Forever ur nerd anon! 🤓

i love you so much. so so SO much. i kept this in my drafts for days just to selfishly reread it over and over and over again, because it means so much to me. these are such a beautiful things to say, my lil nerd anon, and i appreciate it more than words can tell you <33 thank you from the bottom of my heart <333

oh my gosh was i!? 🥺🥺 it would’ve been september, since mid september is when i started this blog!!!! wow nerd babie you’ve been here forever with me!!!! since the very beginning!!! oh my god i’m literally getting emotional again, wow wow wow that’s just so important and special to me, i can’t adequately express how thankful and LUCKY i am to have you here with me, to have you stay with me this long!!! that truly does mean the whole world to me sweetpea please know i do not take you for granted and i genuinely love you so much <333

[azeriaa]

Hi!! these are some asks that has been in my inbox since September— I will answer them now!!

FIRST || PREVIOUS || NEXT

ASKS UNDER CUT

@mmangaboi​ Oh, I- I don’t know??? I honestly don’t know?? Why is it there?? Well, never mind... maybe its “time” has stopped since nobody really remembers them anymore. Also congratulations! You have found one of the Easter Eggs I planted in the comic hahaha. More importantly, a crucial one.

@silheedil​​ That’s literally everyone after Part 9 has been released for 2 months. (*´艸｀). Have you all been thinking that as a grammar error??? Well, there’s a story to why he speaks in Past Tense, and it may doesn’t make a lot of sense. Basically, his future is taken away.

*attempts bad mouse drawing on ms paint* Well, I would like to know what’s your thought on that last question (￣∇￣)

HI!!! I love you a lot too!!!! What happens when past rewinds himself?? He goes back in time of course!! Ya big dummy!! (｀▽´)/ *bonk*

And your ask give me more serotonin than you ffffffffffffffffffffffff <3 <3 I’m glad you love it so much!! I will continue to do my best!~ (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و

Im taking a wild guess — kingofk1nk is that you?? Sorry if I’m wrong ahahhah.

Oh no, you’re not dumb! I’m very sure I confused you on purpose and I have successfully done so! No just kidding I have no idea what am I doing as well despite I know how the story goes.

Neverland was actually a place where “forgotten” things go, where nobody has remember that AU, not even the creator themselves, It is basically a graveyard for ideas. So no, Hard mode wouldn’t be here.

Again, still a heavy draft, don’t count too much on it. (★ｕдｕ)σ

@k0re-drawings​ HIIIIII !!!!!!! I MISS HANGING OUT ON TUMBLR TOO AHH H H H H EXAM IS KICKING MY BUTT but I kicked it back. ( • ̀ω•́  )✧

*attempts another bad mouse drawing on ms paint* I am doing well hasdsdf <3 thanks for asking asdfasdf 

@pistachio-mint-puppet​ Hello! Just passing by to tell you that— TAHNK SDYFASDFODJF THANK YOU!!! and I wish you a wonderful, fantastic day!!

@owizy​ I will never stop making the comics until I have finish telling my story!! Season 2 is coming next year February!! Though, there may be a delay because the cases in my country are rapidly growing and there’s a good chance the exam will be delayed until May or April ;n; I wanna draw!!!!!!!!!!! *slams table aggressively*

no... (´･ω･`) The only way to enter the Neverland is to erase your existence from everyone’s memory. That’s a comic idea for one of the mini-series but I’m not sure if I have time to draw/continue it hahaha. Nothing goes in or out. 

These interactions with other Sans(es) are not canon hahaha. Well, you can probably hack your own existence so nobody remembers you and access the Neverland? Who would want to do that, honestly. Abyss.

asdhfdf my hands are so itchy to tell you about this comic idea, let’s see if it will be drawn out or not.

[nekofantasia]

I feel like I write less and less throughout the years. Which is worrying since man, I’m in college! I still have more free time than any person with a salary, can you imagine what would happen if I start job hunting and the like? This blog will catch mighty dust I tell you.

Still, I felt like I disappointed a few peeps with the lack of responses. I know I have a tendency to drop and forget threads but I hate it and I wanna work on that. Seeing a drafts box with deactivated blogs or see people leave tungie just fills my mind with regret for not sitting my butt down to work on stuff. I know I know, this is a hobby and I even stated it in my rules that RP is rarely my topmost priority due to college and other hobbies, not to mention that being fueled by guilt won’t work in the long run.

Truth to be told, I was even starting to consider retiring since I was delivering so little--maybe even nothing.The urge to deactivate was strong back in September but told no one about it. Things happened in the year, things happened in that month. I was troubled with a lot of grief, anxiety about my college progress and other interpersonal things. I played a lot of games to distract myself but the back of my mind would eventually spoil whatever fun I was trying to have.

Perhaps I didn’t wish to die but I surely wished I ceased to exist, including everyone’s memory of me.

Remember when I was beating myself for being a coward? Yeah, it was all that. I just had a lot on my plate it was driving me insane. It was the worst month of my mental health and sure, I did brought some things from time to time but I felt like I didn’t rip the entire bandaid, just a tempting tug and pretend that it’s not there anymore.

“I’m doing better now, don’t worry.” What an idiot. I should’ve been sincere.

It’s kinda weird pointing at my mental health when it comes to my diminshing RP activity, or at least I feel weird about it. Dunno why but then again it did take me long to realize that I wasn’t doing THAT fine up there, and it took me even longer to realize that it was trickling into other things like RP and work.

But honestly in the end of everything, I still wanna stay and write the nonsense I like to write. To be honest, I like writing! Maybe I don’t wanna be a professional and publish the next best-seller but I like writing and I like it even more when we’re all having fun. No one IRL knows that I write and I doubt I will be able to share it to anyone soon but one thing remains true: I can’t leave the one site I allowed myself to share this interest with other people. I want to improve and become a better partner to all of you, I know it’s not gonna happen right away but I wanna make it happen.

Seriously, I’m grateful that you’re all patient and understanding with me. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for everything.

Have a nice week, my dudes! :D

[firelord-frowny]

I’ve talked a little bit about how at least one ~negative aspect~ of white supremacy/racism that impacts white people is that it can be SO DIFFICULT to avoid being Accidentally Racist over something that really shouldn’t have been that deep, and WOULDN’T have been that deep if not for the pervasiveness of white supremacy in america, and this bit about the lil country band Lady Antebellum and the controversy surrounding their name illustrates that pretty well, I think:

The band members have always said that the band's name was chosen arbitrarily, complaining about the difficulty of choosing a name. Inspired by the "country" style nostalgia of a photo shoot at a mansion from the Antebellum South, they said, "one of us said the word and we all kind of stopped and said, man, that could be a name"[40] and "Man that's a beautiful Antebellum house, and that's cool, maybe there's a haunted ghost or something in there like Lady Antebellum."[41] Haywood concluded, "[We] had a lady in the group, obviously, and threw Lady in the front of it for no reason. I wish we had a great resounding story to remember for the name, but it stuck ever since."[40] The name was always controversial, with a critic in Ms. Magazine writing in 2011 that the band's name "seems to me an example of the way we still — nearly 150 years after the end of the Civil War, nearly 50 years after the Civil Rights Act; and in a supposedly post-racial country led by a biracial president — glorify a culture that was based on the violent oppression of people of color".[41][42]

On June 11, 2020, joining widespread commercial response to the George Floyd protests,[41] the band announced it would abbreviate its name to its existing nickname "Lady A"[43] in an attempt to blunt the name's racist connotations.[1] The band members stated on social media that, never having previously sought the dictionary definition of the word "antebellum", they now consulted their "closest black friends and colleagues" so that their "eyes opened wide to the injustices, inequality and biases black women and men have always faced and continue to face every day. Now, blind spots we didn't even know existed have been revealed."[44] Fan response was mixed, with many decrying virtue signaling or even disparaging the protests.[41]American Songwriter said, "Given that the world knows what that A stands for, to many this change does little more than add extra insult to this ongoing injury."[45]

The next day, it was widely reported that the name "Lady A" had already been in use for more than 20 years by Seattle-based African American activist and blues, soul, funk, and gospel singer Anita White. The band again admitted ignorance of any prior use, which White called "pure privilege". Interviewed by Rolling Stone, White described the band's token acknowledgement of racism while blithely appropriating an African American artist's name: "They're using the name because of a Black Lives Matter incident that, for them, is just a moment in time. If it mattered, it would have mattered to them before. It shouldn't have taken George Floyd to die for them to realize that their name had a slave reference to it. It's an opportunity for them to pretend they're not racist". A veteran music industry lawyer observed that such name clashes are uncommon due to the existence of the Internet.[46][47] The band members contacted White the next week to apologize for having inadvertently co-opted and dominated her name,[48] saying that the Black Lives Matter movement had inspired them to a collaborative attitude. They nonetheless required retaining the same name, though she believed dual-naming is inherently impossible.[49]She said "We talked about attempting to co-exist but didn't discuss what that would look like"[48] because the band members would not directly respond to that explicit question three times during the conversation or in two contract drafts. She soon submitted a counteroffer that either the band would be renamed, or that her act would be renamed for a $5 million fee plus a $5 million donation to be split between Seattle charities, a nationwide legal defense fund for independent artists, and Black Lives Matter.[49]

On July 8, 2020, the band filed a lawsuit against White, asking a Nashville court to affirm its longstanding trademark of the name. The press release read: "Today we are sad to share that our sincere hope to join together with Anita White in unity and common purpose has ended. She and her team have demanded a $10 million payment, so reluctantly we have come to the conclusion that we need to ask a court to affirm our right to continue to use the name Lady A, a trademark we have held for many years."[50]

On September 15, 2020, White filed a counter-suit asserting her claim to the Lady A trademark and rejecting the notion that both artists could operate in the same industry under the same brand identity. She is seeking damages for lost sales and a weakened brand, along with royalties from any income the band receives under the Lady A moniker.[51][52]

Like????????? this REALLY didn’t need to be a thing. 

And one thing I think black folks and other poc need to chill out with is dismissing any white person’s attempt at Being Better in how they move through a white supremacist world in a way that seeks to undo or at least not exacerbate white supremacy. I can TOTALLY believe that, in their white ignorant bliss, this band really did choose their name without realizing for a moment that it might leave a fucked up taste in some people’s mouths. Honestly like... antebellum IS a cool sounding word lmfao and if it wasn’t so heavily associated with slavery-era america, i’d wanna name something antebellum, too! 

And like, yes, it’s true that it ~shouldn’t have taken george floyd’s death~ for anyone at all to suddenly decide that they want to go a little bit out of their way to denounce or at least not seem to promote racism in some small way. But it did. And it does. And every fucking time there’s a gross act of violence and injustice acted out on a person of color in front of the world, there’s always going to be a brand new white person out there who Sees The Light for the very first time. That doesn’t mean their new perspective isn’t genuine, and it doesn’t mean it happened All Of A Sudden. If anything, it was something they’d been thinking about for a long time, but didn’t know how to address it, or what to say, or who to say it to, or how to talk about it in their own community. OBVIOUSLY that problem is WAY LESS BAD than, ya know, actually experiencing racism, but it’s still a real thing that some white folks go through, and being mad about it isn’t going to make it NOT a real thing. it shouldn’t have taken george floyd’s death. it shouldn’t have taken trayvon martin’s death. it shouldn’t have taken the instatement of one of the most vile human beings to ever assault the face of the earth for This Person or That Person to finally want to make a positive and public change, BUT IT DID. It always does. That, unfortunately, is How It Works. 

And so, this band adjusts it’s name in an effort to not seem hostile. OBVIOUSLY it’s not a grand show of solidarity. OBVIOUSLY it’s not meant to convince anyone that they’re Super Amazing White People Who Will Stop At Nothing For Racial Equality. It was literally just a small, simple gesture. They’re just modifying their image, because they were no longer comfortable with knowing how that word makes a lot of people feel. Bc like... let’s be real: probably a solid ZERO of their fanbase would have given a shit if they’d just left the name as it was. Nobody who’s going to a Lady Antebellum concert was pouting about the name. And if anything, they prolly stood a better chance of LOSING fans for ~being politically correct~ than gaining fans for changing their name to something less annoying. 

And it JUST SO HAPPENS that the slight lil adjustment they made to their name steps on the toes of an existing artist, and it JUST SO HAPPENS that this artist is black, and is also an ACTIVIST in social and racial justice. 

Oops. 

And so, obviously people don’t interpret it as an honest mistake. Instead, it’s a result of white privilege. And I mean like??? ok, maybe it is. But I ALSO had never heard of Anita White until I read this fucking wiki page lmfao. So like... my ignorance isn’t due to no white privilege on my part. Maybe it’s a consequence of a white supremacist culture that wouldn’t glorify her and celebrate her and put her name everywhere... but that’s a different thing from privilege. 

So now not only are the bands efforts to adjust to a world that’s becoming more aware of racial injustice being dismissed as disingenuous or too-little-too-late, but now they’re ALSO being accused of Using Their White Privilege to trample all over an artist they’d never heard of. 

i DO think that after finding out the name was already taken, and after talking with her about it and determining that she wasn’t interested in sharing - as is her right - they should have just said “ok, sorry, thanks for talking with us about it” and picked something different. i think it’s kinda ridiculous that they think they should sue her and i think she’s HELLA right for suing their asses right back, and I hope she gets her damn money. 

But I’m also cognizant of how emotionally/psychologically upsetting it can feel to have to just Change Your Name after so many years of living with it. It makes sense that despite their desire to adapt and choose a new name that doesn’t make people cringe, they still want to try to hold on to the feeling that THEY associated with their own name. “Lady A” seemed like a happy medium: They can remain Who They Are while also showing that Who They Are is someone who’s not trying to glorify a disgusting era of history. But if “Lady A” isn’t an option... what’s left? What else could they call themselves that wouldn’t feel like a totally new, alien identity?? 

So, I understand how, on an emotional level, they want to fight to keep it. 

But uh. They really need to just Be Sad about it and let it go. Just consider it one of the small, upsetting sacrifices that white folks may sometimes have to make as we ALL struggle and stumble through this fuckin long-ass road of Making The World Less Terrible For People Of Color, and move on. 

But yeah, like. 

It’s fucking ridiculous that this was even an issue, and it was only an issue because of racism!!!!! If white supremacists didn’t manufacture a culture that oppresses people of color and glorifies the pre-civil-war era SPECIFICALLY for the good ol slavery, then perhaps people could wax poetic about the artistic and environmental aesthetic of that era without it being assumed that they Must Be Racist. Bc like??? idk if yall know this lmfao but i LOVE????? colonial american music. like, the kind of stuff with that Ashokan Farewell vibe. I think it sounds beautiful. And i really fuckin love the black spiritual music that was developed in that time. and i think so much of the architecture and fashion was so???? Nice. Just pleasant! But I can’t even get myself to fully enjoy it because of all the fuckin connotations that have been stuck to it. 

A band should be able to name theirself a name without it being such a goddamn fucking cultural crisis. 

But they can’t! And it is! 

Thanks, White Supremacy! 

[creatingnikki]

Dear September 2021 me,

Annyeong. Hi.

Remember last year? Whatever your life is like right now it has to be better than that. I hope you realise that. And no, I don't want you to be grateful. Why should you be grateful that the world isn't facing a global health crisis? Why should you feel grateful that you aren't stuck at home burdened with uncertainty and dark thoughts and sleepless nights? A world where things go on normally and stepping out and going on with life isn't fatal is normal. Should be normal. And you shouldn't ever have to be grateful for normal. It makes you indebted, apologetic and timid to just exist. And why must you feel that way?

I also hope you aren't afraid to take up space anymore. That your posture isn't awkward and uncomfortable. And that you stand as naturally and free as you smile. And if you can't still do that, I hope you're working towards it.

Have you finished the first draft of your novel? I know covid-19 wasn't the best time to spark creativity but you were trying to see the silver lining and channelize your energy into something positive. If it didn't work out the way you hoped, that's okay. Getting through those dark times is an achievement in itself. You don't need to come out of it with a book written. But honestly though, that is what you really want to do in life, right? Write. And I know the technicalities of writing long-form fiction scare you but do you remember being 13 and feeling that poetry is something so above you? Wishing that you could be that girl who writes but thinking that it's not possible in the least. Yes, our younger selves could be naive. But so cute too, right? You were a storyteller since the age of six. Don't forget that. Writing is a craft that needs to be practised and befriended in all its different and glorious forms. But creativity, imagination and heart - you've always had those.

I hope you have more quality people in your life right now. People who are close to you in physical proximity as well. People who you can meet for coffee on a Saturday morning and those you can call when for a drink when you've had a bad day at work. Because online friends? They got you through your teenage years. You don't regret any of them. Not even the catfish. But now, my love, less of screens and wishful thinking and more of hugs, kisses and seeing facial expressions in real time. You owe that to yourself, okay? Okay.

And as for things that are harder to talk about...I hope they are easier to tackle now. I hope they don't affect you and those you love that much.

Also, I hope that the little things like riding on the metro and joking with your co-workers and going to the local bakery to buy your favourite bread and cake, and self dates at Starbucks and the sun on your skin and the rain on your face and the evenings on the beach and the moment when the lights go out in movie theatre and the ability to go buy paints and a new journal and coloured pens whenever you run out of them...I hope you appreciate these moments even now. Not just for a bit after the lockdown ended and things went back to normal. But you appreciate them in continuity. It's always been the little things. Always. You've known it. But now I hope you know know it.

Even when things were absolutely shit there was a tomorrow. No matter what you're going through right now that to ends. There's always the next day. Next week. Next month. Next year. 500 days to consider tomorrow. And then some more. Also next person. Next lesson. Nest experience. Next favourite song. Next adventure. Not saying this to mean that you always keep looking for what next and never truly enjoying now but just as a reminder that if now is sad and unbearable and shitty there is a tomorrow. And how brilliant is that.

Love always,

April 2020 you

PS A good conversation starter with anyone across the globe would be to ask how they spent their time during Coronavirus.

PPS I hope you've learned one important lesson: Always stock up on ramen and Maggi. Always.

[ashesarrows]

The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Two by Catherynne M. Valente- FULL REVIEW

This review is the complete version of its counterpart on GoodReads.

This book really disappointed me. The roughest thing is that it’s right in the middle of the series, so you have to read it if you want to continue. There are bright spots (Ell! Saturday!), and I can sense the incredible book Valente was trying to write, but overall, this was a flop. Would’ve been a DNF if I hadn’t promised myself I’d finish the series. 

So, firstly: I’m a longtime fan of Fairyland, and I commonly list the first book and Valente herself as my favorite book and author. I had no negative preconceptions about the book going in. In fact, I know I have an irrational fear of series, and at first I thought my struggles with this book could be chalked up to that. 

But I loved the second book. It was entertaining, a good follow-up, and a unique new story to explore. When I picked up the third book and only got a chapter in before forgetting about it, I had a lot of excuses—I was burned out. I didn’t like the Blue Wind, and I didn’t want to read about her. I was busy with school.

As it turns out, having picked the book up three years later and finished it this time, none of that was true. This time, I was yearning for more of Fairyland, I quite liked the Blue Wind, and I had ample time to read in. 

It just wasn’t a good book.

I talk about planning/pantsing a lot, and that’s once again relevant. I’ll excerpt from my review of another book:

There are two types of NaNoWriMo writers: the planners, & the pantsers. Planners have an outline ready before they write, and pantsers go "by the seat of their pants"—very few, or even no, plans. Both have pros/cons; here I'll focus on a common pitfall for pantsers.

Almost every Western narrative… follows something akin to the 3-act structure. There is a main conflict which builds to a climax and is then resolved (think Star Wars’s Death Star.) For any good narrative, you need MOTIVATION-GOAL-CONFLICT—and occasionally stakes[.]

This book does not have a conflict.

So where do you find 300+ pages of writing? Just have something happen & see what comes next as a response!

The problem is that this makes an unworkable first draft. Things Happening =/= Satisfying Plot Arc. In editing, you have to take everything you've written and organize it into a plot shape, often cutting things that don't fit. (Planning is the opposite; tons of work upfront/you usually end up UNDERwriting.)

...The most common method of writing on Wattpad is pantsing. 99% of the time, writers write & then post chapters on a set schedule. Can't edit plot structure when you upload one chapter a week.

Now, I knew that Valente was a pantser before I read this book, and that she originally uploaded Fairyland one chapter a week. I was very impressed when I first found out; I don’t recall sensing any of these pitfalls in the two previous books. It is hard to write a book with no editing—it is damn well near impossible. Whether I liked this book or not, the first two are a triumph just for that. Valente has been writing this entire series with both hands tied behind her back and her eyes taped shut, and I have to commend her. Even my feelings of frustration are almost overshadowed by how impressed I am that it took three books for her to fail.

Valente herself acknowledged editing concerns in multiple / interviews. From the latter link:

I remember being at a convention right after it really hit, and somebody in the audience asked, “Well, you realize you can’t go back and change anything, because you’ve already posted it online.” And I said, “Oh, shit.” It had never occurred to me that that was gonna be a problem. I kept a couple weeks ahead of the posting schedule, but again, much like writing The Labyrinth in ten days instead of thirty, I just ran ahead with something without knowing that I couldn’t do it and it worked out incredibly well.

Did it? I feel differently, and this review aims to explain why.

This book lacks plot. Valente is attempting a 3-act structure, which relies heavily on a central conflict. There has to be some big mission; some big goal. First book example: September has to beat the Marquess (goal and conflict) OR ELSE everyone in Fairyland suffers (stakes/motivation). Every moment of the book ties back to this larger goal.

The central conflict of this book appears about halfway through. You know the moon, and the yeti, and splitting things? This comes up over a hundred pages in. September, and the audience, has no idea about any of that for a hundred or so pages, and so for that amount of time, the book is unconscionably boring. 

The beginning of the book sees September afraid she’s too old to go back to Fairyland, which is a great central conflict idea for the one chapter in which it exists. Aha! A book about growing up and the associated trials and tribulations. That’s a fantastic theme, and yet I forgot about it entirely until the end, where it briefly awakens again, after an entire book of Not That At All. More on this later.

For now, the book takes September back to Fairyland, which should be wonderful, but Fairyland seems to have become all exposition and no action. A whole chapter of The Blue Wind lecturing September, for example. This is a character we don’t know, have no reason to be attached to, and are being actively hindered by as she relentlessly slows the plot down. And then September gets talked at by an alligator or something, and then another something something… I don’t remember any of this, because it was not relevant.

This isn’t like Fairyland #1, where September might need to befriend someone to gain access to magic which would help her on her quest. In fact, for this first half of the book, September doesn’t even have agency! Someone hands her a MacGuffin (I refuse to recall its name) in the form of a box, and she Must carry it to some city or other on the moon. Why? Who knows. She just must. And she does. And you’re thinking to yourself, why isn’t September making her own ship and leading revels? We know, as an audience, that she’s more than capable. What on Earth has got her seeming so meek? She even sasses characters, but somehow always ends up doing as they ask.

The book also takes all this time to reach any characters we know and love. The readers want Ell and Saturday! We do not care about a horde of lecturing adults with no connection to a central plot or September! Looking back, I can see how Valente may have been hoping to pull off something similar to Alice in Wonderland, but in Alice nobody speaks for a full page. This is just one example:

direct link

I’m hard pressed to even call this exposition, because it tells us nothing about the world we’re in. It’s just a sermon Valente wants us to hear. And worse, because I’ve read the last two books, I know she can pull this off. It doesn’t have to be this way. Many people said many things in Fairyland #1, and it worked because there was a plot that the speeches were part of. 

(If you just look at the quotes page for this book, you can see how many there are—and how repetitive they get. X is a Y, okay, alright…)

But this sort of thing reached its peak when it almost ruined Saturday. Don’t worry, he’s generally well-written, but when September meets him and he starts lecturing? It’s just awful to read. Suddenly it’s not Saturday talking but Valente speaking through his mouth, giving those sermons again, and it just makes you want to scream.

This made me recall an old writing rule—“never remind me of the author’s existence.” I want to feel as though real people are really saying these things, and when all of them speak identically, it’s really difficult to believe that. I won’t deny Saturday his right to say poignant things, obviously, but in this case due to the volume of lectures, and the proximity of his to the others, and the obvious preachiness of all of them, it really got in the way of my even enjoying the scenes with Saturday. And come on; that is unforgivable.

But there is a plot. There is an, ahem… other MacGuffin. A paw? A yeti’s paw. Something about time. Look, at this point I just wanted to finish the book. The original MacGuffin had become a new one, which would lead them to the third, and all this because at 100 pages in someone said “hey there’s this yeti we really hate around here,” and September went “sounds awful I’ll go hunt him right now.” And of course she can, because she has been DOING NOTHING FOR THE LAST HUNDRED PAGES. What is she going to do, something else? There IS nothing else to do in Fairyland apparently. Again, what this book does to the world & inhabitants of Fairyland is near criminal.

So the plot starts here, and it’s not great—September takes it up because there’s nothing else to do, and of course her friends come along, but (at least to me) it seems obvious that Valente invented the moon’s political situation and the Yeti just to come up with SOMETHING for this book. It never felt convincing that this had really been happening behind the scenes in the other books. On top of that, since we get very little context (despite the lectures!), it feels less like a vital quest and more like September (again) doing something because someone else told her to. We really don’t get any other perspective on the issue until the very end.

But talking about the end will require a spoiler tag, so I’ll avoid it for now. Let’s take a break to talk about how confusing the book was overall. I often didn’t know where the characters were heading or why, or what role a new character played, or even if they were there or not.

After seeing a GR query about this particular issue, I went back and researched it. The character Candlestick allegedly leaves the party on page 189:

Candlestick had not come with them after all, turning up her peacock tail and refusing to speak further with any of the lot of them.

But then shows up in not one but two lines in the next chapter anyway:

The Tyguerrotype, the thirteen bouncing Glasshobs, the quivering houses—and September and Saturday, A-Through-L and Candlestick—had a little thickness, but no more than a thick sheet of paper. (201)

“Did we see what?” called Candlestick. (204)

I understand why Valente wouldn’t want to make major plot edits to the books after posting them, but why didn’t an editor read through this even once? It would have been easy to fix—delete one line, or even just a word. It seems clear through surrounding context, looking back, that Valente intended to leave Candlestick out of these chapters, so why didn’t anyone confirm that for readers?

It’s just not fair to your audience to leave things like this in. It’s not professional. It makes me look down on the publisher, to be quite honest, because they apparently couldn’t take the few months necessary to re-read the draft and offer Valente edits on these bare minimum issues.

So you can understand why I wasn’t sure what was going on most of the time. Especially in the beginning, when multiple characters existed just to lecture, it was hard to get attached to any one addition to the party because I could expect them to be gone without incident or importance within two chapters. 

For example, the Periwig (whose name I refuse to look up) who works with Ell in the library says she has cursed him to stop him from flaming around the books. Yes, Ell is having uncontrollable flaming issues now. As a reader pummeled by random lectures, watching September ferry around MacGuffins, this just felt like an “oh shit we have to come up with a NEW conflict for these characters” ploy, without much thought or logic. And I had no idea what the curse was for over fifty pages, until on page 173 there’s a specific reference to Ell getting smaller after he shoots flame. I’m sure there were more earlier on, but I missed them, and who can blame me after a hundred pages of content that was not relevant to the story.

This plot point is never satisfyingly wrapped up, either. Why did the Periwig think this was a good idea? Could she have undone it? Why did nobody address her about it? And why was it solved the way it was? Nothing made sense.

What’s really frustrating is what could have been. Near the end of the book, I turned to the back cover just to avoid continuing to read, and I looked once again in total bafflement at the two starred reviews of the book pictured there. Booklist’s back cover quote reads as follows:

As usual, Valente enlightens readers with pearly gleams of wisdom about honesty, identity, free will, and growing up. September often worries who she should be and what path she should follow, but the lovely truth, tenderly told, is that it's all up to her.

And, despite having read roughly two hundred pages of this book, it was only once I saw this quote that I understood what Valente was trying to do.

This is a great idea. And there are ELEMENTS of it here, and even elements I quite like. Occasionally, the lectures September hears do in fact correspond to some aspect of this theme (“you become what you are called” is one example of a line I could tell meant something, but needed to be expanded to accomplish anything.) It’s hard, as a reader, to differentiate between lectures addressing a vital theme in the story and lectures that are just talking.

Returning to Ell’s curse, it turns out that [SPOILER] Ell was just flaming for what is essentially dragon puberty, which is a GREAT opportunity to build on this theme! Somehow, though, we don’t get that.. I would have loved to see Ell have to deal with, essentially, a sexual awakening, and that did not happen, and it feels like the cure scene is random and therefore wasted. [END SPOILER]

It doesn’t help that Valente also wastes a scene with FANTASTIC potential where September literally destroys her fate by giving it no prior context, no weight in the plot, no relevance to the conflict, and fifteen tons worth of expositional lecturing to drown in. I want to love these scenes; some of these scenes utilize my favorite tropes! I just can’t get around all the ways Valente is leaving her story out to dry.

Then there’s the clothing September wears, her new designation, Aroostook the car, the attempted blossoming romance between September and Saturday: so many elements which could have made that theme great. It’s like a broken puzzle.

This brings us to the Yeti. I’m just going to go full spoiler, because I’m mad.

[SPOILER]

The Yeti is a reverse twist villain?? Can we stop with this? It’s not interesting & not an engaging surprise & also feels like going “ha ha I fooled you.”

From the moment September set off to beat him, I was wondering—are we really doing this? Based on one random person’s complaint? September has made it very clear that she doesn’t understand the politics of the world she’s inhabiting, and yet: this. Unlike in the first book, where the Marquess’s evil is confirmed by every person she comes across and September ends up fighting her out of personal connection, this just seems like meddling. September has no skin in the game; it’s almost a white savior trope—especially when the history of the Moon parallels colonization!

And then The Gang sees future-Saturday helping the yeti, and instead of thinking “maybe we got this wrong based on one person’s lecture” they think “ah FUCK maybe Saturday is going to be evil” and manufacture totally unnecessary conflict.

But it’s not even that they misunderstood, or that their source was biased; the end result is that the Yeti was seen as evil because he DIDN’T CARE THAT HE WAS. He gives this “none of their business” answer that is fundamentally unsatisfying (and makes no sense—had he explained, THEY WOULD NOT HAVE BOTHERED HIM) because at the end of the day, it means none of September’s actions in Fairyland were necessary. She just showed up and left. Nobody, not even the story, needed her. I guess September and Saturday have now kissed (twice!) which is great for them but not something that makes the whole book worthwhile.

[END SPOILER]

And on top of this, there are typos. I already covered the issue with Candlestick, so here are the others quickly:

 “All of us,” September said gently, and held out her hands. “I know what you said, Miss Candlestick, but however you count it, our fates are stuck together and stitched up good.” She paused for a moment, looking down at her flowing black silks and her own small hands. “Closer than shadows, she finished.” (170)

“If you’re not to tired after your cannonades.” (179)

The full moon rose passed the high barn windows, spilling in like milk. (248)

(First sentence ought to have put the end quotation mark after the word “shadows,” but accidentally places it after September’s dialogue tag. The second sentence should use “too” instead of “to”. The final sentence needs to either say that the moon “rose past the high barn windows” or “passed the high barn windows”, likely the former.)

What gets me is that this last sentence is on the last page. Even if Valente and her editors never flipped through most of the book, surely someone would’ve noticed this? It just drives home how little anyone cared. About Fairyland, of all things!

And then Valente, who DID NOT EDIT THIS BOOK, has the audacity to include lines like these.

September reached inside and took out the red book. It was heavy. A girl’s face graced the cover, finely embossed, but it was turned away, gazing at some unseen thing. Perhaps it was her own face, perhaps not. A miniature version of herself, after all. Was it an answer? Was it everything already written?  “You can’t argue with something that’s written down,” she said, stroking the red locks of hair on the cover. “If the heart of my fate is a book, there’s nothing for it. Once it’s written, it’s done. All those ancient books always say ‘so it is written’ and that means it’s finished and tidied and you can’t say a thing against it.”  Oh, but September, it isn’t so. I ought to know, better than anyone. I have been objective and even-tempered until now, but I cannot let that stand, I simply cannot. Listen, my girl. Just this once I will whisper from far off, like a sigh, like a wind, like a little breeze. So it is written—but so, too, it is crossed out. You can write over it again. You can make notes in the margins. You can cut out the whole page. You can, and you must, edit and rewrite and reshape and pull out the wrong parts like bones and find just the thing and you can forever, forever, write more and more and more, thicker and longer and clearer. Living is a paragraph, constantly rewritten. It is Grown-Up Magic. Children are heartless; their parents hold them still, squirming and shouting, until a heart can get going in their little lawless wilderness. Teenagers crash their hearts into every hard and thrilling thing to see what will give and what will hold. And Grown-Ups, when they are very good, when they are very lucky, and very brave, and their wishes are sharp as scissors, when they are in the fullness of their strength, use their hearts to start their story over again.

(page 184).

Like... all of that, and then she didn’t edit September’s story? I’m appalled.

At this point, you might well say I’m being far too harsh. I understand that. These next five paragraphs are for you.

For the first few months of (re)reading this book, I genuinely felt like I must be a bad reader, or my attention span was gone, or I just didn’t like Valente or her work enough. Looking at all the incredible reviews here, I felt jealous—and frustrated. Why couldn’t I just enjoy this book the way everyone else did? 

Obviously, I never want to dislike a book, but this was one that I almost feel betrayed me. I know there’s a significant amount of entitlement there; Valente doesn’t owe me any stories, let alone good ones. 

At the same time, I made every effort. I owned all the books, was working hard to read a series despite my long-time struggles with them, and, well, I LOVE Valente! I constantly talk about her work! And even someone like me—someone who’s usually a pretty fast reader, loves the series/author in question, and was determined to finish this book—struggled throughout. 

So I’m frustrated that the book made me feel like an idiot. I’m frustrated that, for the apparent crime of being devoted to Valente’s work, I was put through this. This book would be one star if not for the world of Fairyland and the returning cast—if this had not been a Fairyland book, I would not have finished reading it. For that first half, I was bribing myself (with better books) to read one or two pages at a time. Really.

Like I said, it didn’t have to be this way. I know damn well that Valente can do better than this. If Valente had been given the opportunity to edit this draft into a polished book, she could have done it. It’s only because of these restraints that she chose—and she is a grown woman who may choose what she likes—that the book came out this way. It’s genuinely hard to review, because I understand why she wrote the book this way, and I understand why she did not later edit the majority of the text, and I also have the perspective of a disappointed reader. It’s hard to balance all of that.

So two stars it is. I’m a little sad it took so long to review this book, because I was REALLY pumped to review it when I first finished, but I hope that on the contrary letting it sit has allowed me to be more objective and less emotionally upset by it. 

I hope to pick up the fourth book soon, but with the combination of it being unrelated to the main cast and the letdown that this book was, it’ll be a while before I feel up to it. Don’t worry, though, because I will come back to update you as to whether the series overall is worth continuing. I have every hope that it will be.

[atelophobicity]

Top 10 Things You Shouldn’t Do If You Want to Finish Your Thesis On Time

It’s my entry for September! I’ve been busy in consuming new music, films, and kvariety episodes in my effort to catch up on everything. So, I decided to post monthly to fulfill my oversharing Tumblr needs and to exercise my skills in writing in English and putting thoughts into coherent words.

TL;DR of this: things I’ve done instead of doing my thesis for the past year and a half. I’m not romanticizing my not doing thesis self for the past 21 months, but I’m also not dissuading you from doing other stuff besides thesis because god knows, you will need something.

1. Got a part-time job. This was the first new thing I’ve done that really took my time and effectively gave me no time to do thesis. And yet, this was the most rewarding thing as I learned how to get my TIN, accomplish my deliverables, answer to my superiors etc. Looking back, I wasn’t the best employee and I deserved no job offers on the same company after. But still, it was a stepping stone in the right direction. Adulting-wise, anyway.

2.  Discover the art of creating.

Journal spreads. I bought a 2019 planner and I couldn’t fill it up, so I decided to turn it into a journal-planner. The art materials I used for to design pages are from old supplies bought back when I was in high school or stickers from the fandom-related events I attended. I didn’t spend money and I was given a chance to be creative.

Sew doll clothes. In K-pop, dolls that look like your idol exists. It usually comes with one set of clothes to dress it. As a “doll mother”, I wanted to dress them with new clothes but buying clothes was expensive. So, I just sewed clothes for them. I made clothes from scrap fabrics or clothes no one wears in our household. I’ve been barely successful, but it’s one of the things that keep me happy and make me feel like I’ve succeeded in one measly part of my life.

3. Purged my online files.

From my high school files. Nostalgia has been one of my coping mechanisms. I was able to be provided by lots of it when I discovered that I didn’t lose my high school files and it was on my mom’s laptop all along. Being able to relive memories while organizing my files was the best hours of that day.

To my external hard drives. Since 2016, I have been a hoarder of online files for so long that I have two EHDs to prove it. This time though, I was able to delete content that was either repetitive or uninteresting anymore. I was able to shave off some of my data bytes and am now able to save new interesting content available online (if I ever find one).

4. Realigned my priorities and consumption of K-pop as a stan and as a person by:

Selling 3/4 of my merch. Unlearning the pride that comes with owning K-pop merch was difficult, but overtime, I have been proud of myself for not falling to the traps of capitalism—at least in K-pop. Also! I was able to buy my own concert tickets with the stuff I sold so it is a win!

Joining giveaways instead. No matter how I can avoid the urge to buy K-pop merch, I still can’t help but want to own them. This is where I discovered how joining giveaways was my next best option. It takes a lot of effort and screenshots to win these things. However, if and when you win, it really feels like winning against the odds. You get free merch too!

Actually spent hours to vote and stream. In relation to the last point, since the main requirement in giveaways I’ve joined are voting/streaming proofs, I have been one of those people who collects points on voting apps or has a playlist of music videos that should be streamed. After collecting and/or streaming, I take screenshots, put watermarks there, and tags mutuals if needed. It’s relatively hard work but there’s a feeling of pride when your idol wins the poll or an MV reaches a certain amount of views and you know you participated in making that happen.

5. Rediscover Youtube. Channels like the vlogbrothers and their associates (Crash Course, Pemberley Digital among others), Buzzfeed’s shows (The Try Guys, Ladylike, Buzzfeed Unsolved) were a delight to watch after being out of the Youtube loop for so long. The platform also offered new niches of content and I allowed myself to be sucked in it. From Simply Nailogical to Ask A Mortician to amazing pop culture video essays like Lindsay Ellis and Jenny Nicholson, Youtube has all it for you! Learning something new every day is one of my favorite things and I get to do it with this website.

6. Rediscover my love of writing. (As if I’ve written anything for my thesis but here.)

Made drabbles. There is a weekly activity on my fandom where we write < 500 word drabbles on any pairings. I have been joining when I can, and through the support of the (small) community (back then), I gained confidence to write one. I’ve written at least four now and I’ve not done yet because I’ve been on a slump lately. But I’ll get back to it soon!

Short story. The same account that brought the drabble challenge created a festival where we write a pairing and write a short story with it. I decided to join the event! Not going to lie, my entry was shit, It was the first draft, it needed a lot of revisions and more constructive criticism and yet, I am still proud of it. It was the first creative fiction I wrote since 2019 and I did it in a day. And, I believe it has potential, so I’m going to review and revise the hell out of it someday.

7. Reclaim my college days.

Reconnected with orgmates. Visiting Elbi for registration and consultation purposes are brightened up by the fact that I get to do this. My first four years of college were not kind to me. I’ve forgotten a lot of things because of trauma and deep sadness that I still have until this day, and when I remember good things, they’re few and far in between. The numbered days I was in Elbi during 2019 were also few and far in between, but they were infinitely better than my academic years from 2015 to 2017. I was able to do the things I wasn’t able to do before (mostly attending Happy Ts and eating in newly-opened food places there) and I get to do it with people I love.

Made friends. One of the drawbacks of being a slot-driven student with no care of my coursemates’ schedules: I didn’t get to establish a friend group. So I didn’t get to make friends. During this time, I’ve accepted that I didn’t have any friends outside my organizations. But this time, instead of a feeling of dread of being that cliché orgmate, I feel relief and happiness because now, I realize that I do have friends from college, unlike the 2015-2017 who didn’t have anyone in college to rely on her darkest times.

8. Appreciated my friends more. For the past few years, I was the shitty friend. I agreed to go on hangouts only to message them that I’m backing out the last minute—sometimes I even straight up ghosted them. I really took my friends for granted. I have been slowly making it up to them by always attending when there’s an invite! I sometimes initiate the invite and it’s always a fun and healing time for me (it was a literal healing time for me as I was depressed during that time). I love them and I’m always thankful for them—and more so now than before.

 9. Unlearning things like:

Realizing that a priv (a private account meant to be seen by your mutuals you trust; usually contains unpopular opinions and hot takes on stan twitter) only encourages negative emotions and I must not do it again.

No matter how I tried rationalizing my hate for Jennie when the JenKai dating news happened, I was one of those K-pop stans who hated her because she dated my idol. (I have moved on past that and have started liking her and Rose.)

Knowing that attacking people for what they say won’t make them unlearn their wrong opinions. Not talking down at them and educating with patience is the key, always.

There are still so much more I unlearned and learned where those came from. My main takeaway is: it’s complicated.  Sometimes our opinion needs a more nuanced perspective and sometimes it needs to scrapped entirely because it was just wrong. But it is essential so we, as people, won’t be stuck with outdated views of the world.

10.   Learning something new like:

Practicing how to do Tzuyu’s helicopter hands until I realized it wasn’t meant for me.

Utilizing Omegle to look for potential quaranflings.

Installing Telegram and uninstalling to ghost quaranflings.

How to do laundry in compliance with my mother’s preferences.

Doing two things at once.

Enough patience to take time and read the laws our government makes every day to know what I’m fighting against.

Optimizing my Twitter lists and now I can keep up with current affairs (that takes a toll on my mental health) then scroll through a fic fest-centric list the next (that helps me forget the stress from reading news).

Learning something new every day has become one of my life goals. Knowing that the world always has something new to offer to me, a speck in this universe, warms me up and keeps me going. And you’ll never know where the new tidbits will lead you. Maybe it’ll help you reconnect with something you’ve known before, maybe it’ll change how you see things, or maybe it’s something new that once explored, it will contribute something new to the community. It may seem small and unimportant but with a tweak in perspective, it might be something worth doing and pursuing.

Looking back at my list, I can finally see how if I didn’t do all these things, I would have probably finished my thesis by now and probably working a full-time job, able to provide the financial needs for my family. There will always be regret that I am still not done until now. But stressing over my current predicament in this time when the world is in its most stressful state yet won’t help me. So, we soldier on and hopefully, hopefully get back to the thesis I’ve been meaning to do.

 Let’s get it.