#life has been so shitty so i return to tumblr

[shrodingersartist]

Twewy RWBY au im working on after rewatching volumes 1-5 i have ideas chat… i have so many ideas… 💃🕺💃🕺

[swordsandholly]

Fancy: The Rewrite

Chapter One: Here's Your One Chance

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | next | masterlist | Ao3

A/N: This fic has been haunting me since I stopped working on it. I just wrote myself into a corner and sped through the story far too quickly. Plus, I have some new concepts that I think really fill out the unfortunate issues with the original. Chapter one is the most similar to the original. I'm leaving the original up on tumblr for the hell of it, but I hope you enjoy the re-write as much as I am.

A permanent darkness rests over the city; dense and unbidden. Cold, too. Despite living here your whole life you’ve never quite adjusted to the artificial nature of it - to the shadow hanging above the miles and miles of city. The chill on your skin never lifts. It leaves a shivering underneath, nearly an ache these days. Something ingrained into your very nature by your surroundings.

Really, you aren’t meant to be here. This place isn’t built for humans despite the mass that live within the confines of the city’s dome. It’s purpose made for creatures - beings of the night that stalk and rule. The air has become rotten in the lower neighborhoods over a century of pollution and overpopulation. The constant cover of the dome cannot be broken to filter it - not even for a moment can the eternal night hanging overhead end. Your lungs will turn black before the age of five without proper protection. It’s worse it summer - at least the artificially created facsimile of summer - when the air warms and wets and coats your insides. When the pollutants find their way into the water supply. As if there is any point to the heat with so sunlight in return. Your nails always have a layer of dirt crusted underneath during those months.

The lower city is nothing but old buildings on top of even older structures; all moderately crumbling in some capacity. Apartment buildings are crowded and decent living conditions are hard to come by. Many have a waitlist longer than the human lifespan. Most operate on a dorm system - at least one person per room. Randomly assigned of course, based entirely on who can pay the rent. You’ve lucked out enough to earn a shitty studio to yourself. It’s cracked and crumbling but the locks are tight and it has a window - even if the view is just a building across the alleyway. Even if the smog has turned the tempered glass a semi-opaque grey.

The slippery polyester of your black dress smooths over your skin, just as artificial as everything else in this place. You tie your hair up to show off the double string of pearls on your neck. They’re the nicest thing you own. The most authentic, at least, and the only thing that makes you seem worthy of the upper city. The only thing that can project the image needed to get proper tips - to get what you need to survive. Red lipstick as a final touch, always. It’s corny, and leaves you cringing every time you glance at the damn thing but the vampire clients are always suckers for it. Pun intended.

This job is important. There can’t be a hair out of place; can’t be a single reason to cast doubt that you are inhumanly perfect while never losing that very humanity they crave so desperately. This is your chance. Your one chance to make enough money to get out of the slums and at least make it to the middle city. Once you ruin your reputation at a place like this… well, you might as well call it permanently. You can practically hear the grime on the sidewalk as you make your way toward the metro station. Dirt and debris so caked into the very air down here that you have to wear a respirator as you go. It’ll leave marks when you first take it off, but they usually disappear by the time you’ve made it from the depot to the club.

You don’t bother with sitting on the train. Hell will freeze over before you chance catching whatever new disease has grown in that Petri dish. Instead you join the rest of the patrons in awkwardly standing in the center of the cart, damn near falling over when the train lurches to begin its journey from the slums to the upper city. There are actual names for the two areas, but nobody uses them anymore. They died two generations ago.

The respirator makes a hissing sound as you remove it after stepping out of the train. The cool, clean air of the upper city fills your lungs. It’s satisfying in a way its sticky, filtered sister could never be. The faux fur of your cropped coat tickles at your neck as you walk, blown by that strange breeze that never seems to stop up here. The one that sends all the grime and smog downhill, leaving a fog so thick you can’t even see the building lights properly.

The club sits square in central downtown - bult into the underground level of a historical hotel. It’s an elegant building. Red with curled metal accents over the windows and doors. Modeled after the ancient art nouveau movement. At least that’s what the plaque in the lobby says. You had just long enough to change a glance at it while heading up with a client once. The fixtures sparkle underneath the artificial LEDs of the city - all signs and glowing windows. You can always tell where the humans are, catching glimpses of that unmistakable glow only a UV light gives off.

You duck down the alley behind the hotel. Grimy and dark, the complete opposite of the front entrance. Your heels clack on the concrete loudly - echoing off the hard walls of the building surrounding you. If it weren’t for the small glowing sign that marks the “Back Stage” you might never know it’s there.

It’s easy enough to slip into the routine of your job. Going back and forth to the bartender, carrying various drinks and placating the egos of cowardly men and the vampires they lie to themselves about being equal to. You can see the pity in the ancient creatures’ eyes when they look at their human cohorts posturing to appease them. You can see the hunger, in equal measure, when you tilt your head, exposing more of your neck to the light; when your wrists just pass their noses as you set down their glasses. It’s all purposeful, of course, maintaining the dance of remaining just out of their grasp, but close enough that if they really wanted to take you, they could.

It’s hard work, the dance. Long hours and more days of the week than you would like, but it pays enough for you to afford your little apartment and save some for your theoretical future.

“Hey! You!” The owner barks at you as you gently set your tray back into the stack to be washed.

You whirl on your heel. Shit, did you fuck up? Your mind runs through every interaction over the course of the night - every comment, every stilted moment. Every outcome of whatever mistake you made. Being thrown out into the city before you can even gather your respirator or coat. Choking on the air as you make your way home and praying you survive the symptoms after. Though, there wouldn’t be much point to surviving them without work.

“Y-yes, sir?”

“Need you as a Companion.” He stands in front of you, the pinstripes of his suit warping over his massive, crossed arms. The wrinkle in his nose makes his mustache twitch.

“C-companion!” You squeak. “I’m not-“

“We had a mix up. Need you to take the private booth in the back.”

Your eyes are saucers - heart beating so hard you almost can’t hear him. You don’t know what to make of this. His words are nonchalant and cut right though you, but the prospect they hold… so much opportunity and disaster…

“You paying attention?” He grunts.

Your voice shakes. “Just… why me?”

“You match their preference.” Its blunt. Uncaring. Not that you would ever expect much sympathy from the owner of a place like this - feeding girls to vampires and their kin.

Generally, you’re not the type to be preferred - too big and soft for most. It’s what kept you as a server exclusively, you’re sure. Companion is such a major step up, too. You haven’t had any training. You never thought you’d get there - only a few girls make it from Server to Companion. To have it by happenstance…

With a deep breath you remind yourself that this is temporary. Just for tonight. You are acting as a replacement, nothing more. If you pull this off maybe you’ll get enough extra cash to finally replace the air filtration in your apartment. Maybe you can even get an overhead UV light. Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely!

Another tray is shoved into your hands. Is this… actual gold? You turn it over in your hands briefly. Ornate designs line the outer rim - all weaving in and out of each other inlaid with iridescent mother of pearl. It’s cold on your skin and so shiny you catch your reflection in it before the bartender sets a bottle of wine and four glasses on it. You’re fairly certain between the wine and the tray you are holding upwards of ten thousand dollars a in your hands. It takes everything to keep your hands from trembling.

You slowly head for the back booth under the scrutinizing eye of the owner - just beyond the main floor of the bar. It’s far quieter here; the music from the floor muffled by the distance. There are only a few private booths and they are only ever occupied by the city’s elite. The top of the top. You pause at the heavy, velvet burgundy curtain separating you and your clients for tonight.

You just hope they aren’t the type to get rough.

Balancing the tray on one hand, you use the other the push the heavy curtain to the side - entire body alert and tense as your eyes land on the four men sitting at the rounded booth. Their eyes meet yours, and you freeze. A shiver runs down your spine.

They’re beautiful in that way only vampires can be. Untouchable. Marble-esque. Eyes clear and bright even in the low light of the booth - that sheen of night vision apparent. Lions staring down their prey and you, who walked into the den willingly. Their stares tear through you, seemingly pulling you apart at the seams. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think that hypervigilance leaned toward fear.

“Good evening.” It takes everything to keep your voice steady. To slip back into that comfortable service headspace you’ve curated. “I’ll be your Companion tonight.”

“What happened t’ Cherry?” The man on the outer right side of the booth asks, words slow and hushed. His arm is slung carelessly over the back of the booth, body too tense and words too stilted to sell whatever casual air he is trying for.

“She was unfortunately unable to come in tonight.” You say softly, carefully sliding the tray onto the table. “If I’m not to your standards-“

“Well, now, none of us said that.” A man with an imperial beard smiles. It softens his face - makes him look less like stone. “What’s your name, dove?”

“Fancy.” You murmur. It’s your chosen work name - based on a song your mother used to play from a century ago. All the workers names are single words. Easy to remember. Easy to request for returning quests.

“Fittin’.” The man to your left grins, bright blue eyes sparkling. His fangs catch the light - your hands tremble for a brief moment.

“Do you know who we are?” The masked man beside him asks. His voice rumbles through your nerves, all the way into your bones. You can hardly look at him - the skull covering the top half of his face makes your gut churn.

Should you know them? Oh, fuck, you probably should. Vampires live forever - their names and legacies travel across centuries. Millenia. It’s going to give you away. You’re just a low class human from the slums. You don’t know Vampires from the uppers.

The illusion of luxury only goes so far.

“It’s not a trick question.” The man to your right smiles gently, tilting his head to the side.

“No, sir.”

“Well,” The one with the beard sits a little straighter. “I’m John Price and these are my… confidants. Cohorts. Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley.” He gestures to each as he goes.

John Price… John Price… Nothing comes to mind. Nothing about any of them, for that matter.

“Lovely to meet you.” You smile pleasantly, slipping back into the script. Swallowing roughly and steadying yourself, you reach for the bottle and slowly pouring a tester amount into the four glasses. “Tonight we have a vintage red for you from 2089.”

John hums, swirling the glass before taking a sip. His eyes don’t leave you and you try not to shrink from them. “You remember the 80’s, Simon?”

“Which one?” The makes you pause. How many 80’s could there be?

John laughs, whole and hearty. Little crows feet appear in the corners of his eyes. “Which d’you think?”

“I remember the blood.” The masked man mutters. He doesn’t look at John either - dark eyes locked on you. You keep up the well trained smile. Neutral, comfortable.

“Och, ye would.” Johnny scoffs, taking his own glass after John gives you a nod to fill the four properly. “Cannae ever remember the good.”

“Well what’s your finest memory then Johnny?”

“There’s was this lass… think her name was Cassandra. Had the biggest tits and-“

“Enough of that. There’s a lady present.” John waves his hand. To your surprise, Johnny actually listens despite looking muffed about it. You can’t help but snort. Lady. As if.

How old are they, anyway? They look young - especially Johnny and Kyle. Definitely below thirty when they were turned. John obviously leads but that doesn’t necessarily mean he turned the rest of them. They could have just come together over the years. Vampire covens vary heavily as to why they came together. Sometimes friendship, sometimes relation, sometimes just convenience.

Simon is still staring you down, hooking a thumb under his mask to raise it just over the end of his nose. Scarred lips sip from his glass.

“Come sit, luv.” Kyle pats the booth beside him, voice hushed.

You snap out of your thoughts at the prompt - moving to sit in the empty spot beside Kyle. The next thing you know hands are on your hips, passing you over until you’re sat square in the middle as if you weigh nothing. You know vampires are strong - you’ve gotten thrown around by your fair share in the slums, whether a mugging or fucking - but it still startles you. They could crush you with barely a flick of the wrist.

Fingers brush over your shoulders, tracing the shape of them and leaving goosebumps in their wake before lowering to rest between your exposed shoulder blades.

“Tell us about yourself, hm?” John prompts.

“Oh, not much to tell.” You shrug and smile. “I’m from the city. Started here about a year ago-“

“How have we never seen ye then?” Johnny interrupts, eyes locked on your chest. You’d think he was staring at the mole just below your collarbone, but that’s probably too presumptuous. “A bonnie thing like ye…”

“Well…” You raise your hand to your mouth like you would when whispering a secret. “I’m not supposed to tell but I’m actually a server, normally.”

“Oh, really?” Kyle leans his chin on his palm. “In a dress like that?”

“What’s wrong with my dress?” You huff, letting the pliant facade slip just enough to make yourself seem real. Just a little less doll like before you return to the script.

“Absolutely nothin’.” Simon hums beside you, eyes near black under the shadow of his mask.

Your face heats. Client compliments never get to you and you’re not sure what about his feels so different. All of their attention is so intense. It dives under your skin and burrows deep in your marrow.

“So, seeing as you implied I should know who you are-“ You tilt your head and meeting John’s eye, “who are you?”

John chuckles, leaning close. “Oh, no one important. Contractors. Independently employed.”

“Ah, so, criminals.” You laugh.

“If you say so.”

“I can’t exactly judge.” You lean in as well, shoulder pressing against his broad chest. The material of his suit is soft and thick. High quality. “I mean, look where I am, hm?”

“Are ye a criminal, lassie?” Johnny grins at you, tilting his head. How he makes a mo-hawk cute is beyond you.

“Shh.” You press a finger to your lips.

“That how you got these?” You startle as John slips his fingers beneath the string of pearls, tugging ever so slightly. You meet his eye, only briefly, only long enough to see something hard behind them that wasn’t there before. He rolls the golden clasp between his fingers absently.

“I… I’ve always had them…” You frown, suddenly wracking your mind as to their origin. You’d never thought about it. They were your mother’s… you’re sure… but somehow that doesn’t feel right. The harder you think, the further the answer seems to be.

Either way, John seems placated by that. He retracts his hand, falling back into the simple banter from before. You allow you shoulders to relax, deciding to take his return to form at face value. Not that you have another option, really. It’s easy enough to look sultry, to play the part, to mindlessly flirt. Easy enough to fall into the simple back and forth. Scripted. Basic. Nothing out of the ordinary. They’re just clients at the end of the day, even if they have more money and power than your usual crowd.

You carefully refill each of their glasses as needed - mostly Johnny’s. His face would probably be red from the alcohol were he alive. You can feel their eyes on you - boring through your very being. It takes more concentration than you’d like to keep your breath from hitching when John’s finger traces the exposed upper curve of your spine above the dress. You lean forward, pushing each glass back to their respective owners.

Johnny takes your hand before you can retract it, placing gentle kisses from your palm to your wrist. He sighs shakily, teeth catching your skin ever so slightly.

“Johnny.” The masked man rumbles in warning.

“Not gonnae bite, LT… she just...” Johnny murmurs against your wrist.

“Have you ever been bitten, dove?” John asks, eyes half lidded as he stares you down.

Prey. You’re just prey.

“N-no…” You shake your head, voice smaller than you’d like. You’re not supposed to. Clients aren’t allowed to bite the girls here - it’s not one of those clubs - but in reality you’re at their mercy. To book one of these rooms they surely have the money to pay whoever necessary to do whatever they might want with you. It’s not like you’re one of those girls anyone would miss.

“Donnae look so afraid.” Johnny chuckles.

“We’re not goin’ t’bite.” Kyle leans forward. “Just curious.”

“Oh…” You whisper. Johnny drops your wrist and you pray that they don’t notice how quickly you retract it. As you settle back into the booth, you allow yourself to sink comfortably into the soft cushions. A jolt shoots down your spine as a cool finger tucks a section of hair behind your ear. Your eyes meet John’s - some undiscernible pain swirls in those grey-blues. It looks wrong, that much emotion on such a statuesque face. He glances past you, toward Simon, you think.

The next thing you know you’re blinking blearily, sitting in John’s lap with your legs across Kyle’s. The younger man’s hand rests on your leg, thumb gently stroking your ankle as you come back to sentience.

It’s like coming up from the undertow and getting your first gasp of air.

“There she is.” Johnny murmurs, smiling softly.

You were compelled - you know that much. There isn’t any other explanation for your sudden, uninterrupted blackout. It’s disorienting. You rub the corner of your eye, purposefully evening your breath. At least your clothes are all still in place. You don’t feel… used. Not bitten either. A choked sigh escapes you against your will, hands trembling in your lap.

“You’re alright, dove.” John coos, cold breath puffing against your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. How much time has passed? When… what… “Can be hard t’come out of it, hm?”

“I’m okay...” You whisper.

“Have some water.” Kyle pushes a glass toward you. The concern on his face feels foreign.

A large, empty decanter of scotch sits in the center of the table accompanied by five empty glasses. That’s the closest hint you have to how long you’ve been here. You take the glass of water shakily and sip, leaving an imprint of red lipstick on the rim.

John continues to coo and soothe down your hair. His other hand travels down to rest on your hip, holding you in place against him. It’s strange… this feeling. You’ve been compelled before briefly but it wasn’t like this. John has to be strong. Old. He’s been around a while to have that kind of power - for it to be this difficult for you to come out of the haze. Assuming he is the one that compelled out, of course, though it isn’t exactly a stretch based on his behavior.

It’s taking more concentration to keep from crying than you’d like.

Stranger, though, is the way they watch you. The way John works you back to reality. Most vampires would have been inappropriate while you were gone, wouldn’t bother with the borderline aftercare needed when coming out from under their spell. Most would have left you slumped in the booth - drained of blood or pleasure or both - laughing as they went.

You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter and gathering your wits. “Can I get you gentleman anything else?”

They share a look, one that you can’t quite interpret.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” John asks, voice low.

You look up at him with big eyes. Childlike, almost, staring up in wonder. It’s so strange how vampires aren’t quite white - they just lack the redness of life. The pink under the skin that signifies a beating heart and limited life span.

“I’m sure.”

John presses closer, breath caressing the shell of your ear. “Thank you for being so gracious f’us, tonight.

“Always…” There’s an honestly behind the word that startles you. A craving deep in your bones to prove yourself worthy of him and his men.

Strange.

“We best be on our way.” Simon rumbles, prompting Johnny to let him out of the booth.

John’s eyes flick between yours briefly before he moves you off of his lap with the gentle touch one might use when handling fine china. As much as you want to stay there, dazed and still coming down, you have work to do. So, you stand after them and begin slowly gathering the empty glasses on the tray. They sit heavier in your hand the normal - each movement feels as though you’re moving through molasses.

A cold touch runs up your back and you freeze. Fingers trace the curve of your spine. You straighten, turning slowly only to meet those soft blue eyes again. John takes your hand, eyes alight with something you don’t understand. “I’ll tell the owner he’s wasting you as a servin’ girl. You’re made for more.”

Before you can even possibly decide how to respond, he’s gone. Disappeared through the curtain and into the forever night. Something crinkles in your hand. When you look down, slowly opening your fingers, the contents make your heart jump into your throat.

Cash. A massive roll of neatly banded cash.

How much is this? A few thousand? More?

With frightened eyes and slippery hands you tuck the cash into the secret pocket of your coat. Having that much cash on your person is so out of your wheelhouse - out of the realm of possibility- you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t even get to say thank you.

Your mind whirls as you finish up your shift, eyes glazed over while slipping on your coat and gathering your things from your locker to make the long trek home before the train stops running. The other girls look off put. A few whisper and stare. The air is heavy with the implication that they know something you don’t. They must. You aren’t exactly in on the gossip.

What do they think you did?

Then again, you think as you brace yourself for the lurching and squealing of the metro, there isn’t any way to know what happened. Not unless one of the vampires tells you, and good luck prying any information out of one of them. Even if they tell you, they can just make you forget all over again.

How did you behave? Were you the same as always? Were you an entirely different person?

Some people forget themselves when under compulsion - every inhibition thrown to the wind carelessly. You need your inhibitions. They keep your job secure and yourself safe. You can’t afford carelessness.

The walk back home is tense. That small bulk in your pocket burns a hole though you as your mind runs with every possibility of what might have happened. What you might have done to earn such a massive tip. It can’t have been dignified, could it? There’s no way they just like you. That’s not how vampires are. Then again, at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter. They liked you enough to pay you. There isn’t any point in trying to dissect such a simple transaction beyond that.

It takes everything to motivate yourself to actually take off your clothing and jewelry before falling into bed. However long they had you, it drained you. Left you tired and shaky as you crawl under the thick bundle of quilts that make up for the lack of heating in your home.

Your eyes meet the wad of cash that barely fit in the inner pocket of your coat. It feels like a threat. Use me well or lose me forever! Make me count because you’ll never see me again!

For now, at least, you can bask in the simple victory of it.

banner by @the-aesthetics-shop

[beloveds-embrace]

Tbh I'm starting to suspect that most of my asks for you are just going to be me affectionately yelling at you.

Because you've given me so many ideas???? And now I'm faced with the constant "LEMME GIVE THIS READER A FRIEND PLEASE LET ME BE HER FRIEND"

Dukedom AU? Congrats, Reader now has a friend who's father was Riley's and Price's general and while she has no doubts about Reader's husband, they haven't seen each other since Reader's parents practically forbid it in their teens and- actually, isn't Duke Riley still friends with Duke Price? And unmarried? ... She has a letter to write. Short and simple should do it. (And maybe her and Reader resume their queerplatonic relationship- the Friend is devoted to the Reader like a cat returns to the same home that lets it chase the rats)

Shifter AU? Here, Reader's friend is a demigod (Zeus' kid who begged for Hera's forgiveness and bound herself to the goddess in blood and ink) who works nights and lets it known exactly how she feels about her friend being taken without letting her know first via lightening storm over the whole fucking city until she knows Reader is safe. (And maybe she's slowly becoming a minor deity herself. Maybe Soap gets a whiff of hair bleach when she's pissed, or tattoo ink when she's cackling, or antiseptic when she's offering comfort).

Fertility God AU? The deity of death visits sometimes, calm and quiet and peaceful- a reminder that it is dying that's painful, while death itself is nothingness. She never picks the plants herself, merely grabs the flowers Reader picked already and uses that to tap noses. Okay I might actually just take the idea of 141 serving their war god and the war god being slowly brought to his knees and going a whole other direction with it.

Just. Let me give these soft Readers Fierce Friends who'll take one look at these military men and be like "Bitch you still have an Achilles tendon, I will cut you down if you hurt them." And maybe that's a turn-on for a couple of them, idk it could happen.

So. Many. Ideas. And I'm like, buzzing with insecurity about writing them because they weren't mine to start with and tbh Tumblr is really the only way I know these characters? And also I appreciate it if you made it this far through my word vomit thank you for your time and have a good day!

As long as the yelling comes from a place of love who am I to complain? 😌💕

Also omg yes every reader needs a friend. A good, dependable friend that lessens the angst just a little.

Also omg yes?? If Friend manages to even convince Simon to marry her, with the promise that she wants nothing romantic with him just a way to be close to you again, then she’d also solve the rumors that still spread about Simon’s unmarried status even with the general fear of him. And you get your darling Friend close again! Win-win, and the 141 get to see you exceptionally happy and excited.

Friend looked away for just a short while and then returns to learn your shitty boyfriend has cheated on you with your other shitty friend she never liked, you aren’t anywhere in your home and you haven’t gone to work and you have been kidnapped by some pack of shifters- personally, anyone would be fucking pissed too ngl. Friend probably smells the loveliest when she’s with you, though, when she sees you happy at last.

Now the Fertility god au I’m gonna need more from you babes you can’t just leave me hanging here 👁️👁️ /nf

And yes. Like I said all readers deserve a fierce friend it’s not a law but it should be and yes to that too i need them to blur the lines between friends and lovers just a lil too. Life’s more that way, me thinks.

Also no please don’t worry, fandom spaces are shared and new writings are always welcome 😭🫶🏻 i haven’t laid a single finger on any of the games im just rawdogging it too dw so you should absolutely write if you want to without fear!! Thank you for this wonderful ask I loved reading it!

[ravenadottir]

ok, i understand why fusebox is taking down the old app from a financial perspective, and with it the first three seasons, but if that's not the biggest shot in the foot idk what is.

there are so many people that start playing the stupid games this shitty ass company puts out there because of said seasons, so like... no. it's by far the most commented seasons in any discussions on reddit and it's still a winner when it comes to fics and headcanon posts on tumblr, like ????

i get that it hasn't been lucrative for them probably (?) but it's a stamp of what fusebox used to be and how it could improve... and that empty promise of remastering the seasons to bring it back?

no thanks, i know y'all are gonna kill some storylines like you have been doing for 3 years now, so don't bother. just take down the only seasons that are worth playing so we can just get the fuck out of here and concentrate our attention on the fics.

now, i tried playing seasons 4 and 5, couldn't go pass a few chapters because everything seemed so stupid e pointless. i was determined to get through season 5 (don't ask me what dumb title it has, i can't be bothered to remember) but like, i couldn't ???

it was so disengaging i would rather do a jakub route and cheat so i can get dumped by returning!islander than going back and trying again. i guess this is it for me regarding fusebox.

and since i'm on the subject, i have been feeling like that for a while, just waiting around for a season that is worth my time, and it hasn't happened yet. i'm over this shitty company and whatever they released after season 2, that's just it.

if you like what they did, and has been doing, good for you, i can exist on this corner absolutely hating everything and you can love it all, my problem is with the company not the people that find joy with the work they put out here (which apparently there's a bunch of evidence of AI and it doesn't surprise me in the slightest). well, that's it. that's all i have to say on the matter.

i've barely been here due to several personal life issues, and i fucking guarantee my personal life and the gossip i've been digging up from my family would make a far more entertaining game than whatever the fuck they're doing now.

i'm still gonna continue updating the fics though, and maybe eventually turn my inbox on again ?

but for now, i'm still going through a lot and time has been wasted on multiple problems in my personal life, maybe i'll expand on those on a different post because i do need to shout into the void about everything that has been happening.

this post is not nearly as articulated as it could be, but that's just me venting. anyway, carry on with your day.

[hylaversicolor]

hi i know youve not been too active lately so its nbd if it takes you a while to see this. i hope you know your mgs art has changed my brain chemistry. i visit your blog 1-2 times a week to look at it again just so it doesnt fade from my shitty memory. 10/10 no notes i look at them and my heart is in shreds strewn around throughout my chest cavity all over again. wishing you a comfortable life within your home and your (very large) brain

thank you, that means a lot.

right now i have no plans to come back to this blog or to tumblr at all. between the transmisogyny, antiblackness, and islamophobia exhibited by staff and the culture of surveillance and tracking in social media in general, i can’t really return in good conscience. i don’t want to give this website any more of my time or energy. tumblr has shaped me as a human being, for better or worse, but i’m very happy to step away now and move on.

i’m delighted that my art has made an impression. i’m still drawing, considering putting together an art book (hey why not?). if i ever make one, it’ll be posted here.

in the meantime i have no plans to delete or make private this blog. thanks for all the kind comments and tags and messages over the years. they really do mean a lot.

[slowburnsucker]

how are you feeling after that horrid part 2🫠

genuinely going to cry it’s been a shitty week with the election and my personal life and now im going thru this all over again after bellarke and the 100

don’t mind me crying in my house and never leaving

hope you’re doing okay

Hey anon :/ I’ll use your ask to address the whole situation I guess:

I’m feeling really bummed but mostly really angry. I also was looking forward to these episodes as an escape after the election news and to have this piled on after all that has been so depressing.

Bellarke was one of the first times I got intensely involved with fandom on here and their end was so awful that still to this day it’s hard for me to see edits and things of them because it makes me so sad and angry at the lost potential. The only silver lining of that situation was of course Bob and Eliza.

Then I found OBX and fell in love with those silly pogues. I never thought I’d return to the ship side of tumblr to the same degree after Bellarke but then Jiara came along and I was hooked. It was so healing! Everyone in the fandom (for the most part haha) was so nice and civil, the content we all produced was amazing, and it was so fun bonding over a slowburn ship again. I thought they would be my shipping redemption.

I should’ve known not to get my hopes up, but here we are.

Obviously we don’t actually know what went down because we weren’t there but I do think it probably came down to a certain actor wanting to leave the show. I appreciate everything Madison tried to put it into it but there’s only so much you can do.

Not sure to what capacity I’ll engage with season five, I don’t wanna punish the other actors for something that was out of their control but also the show doesn’t hold the same magic for me now.

However, I’d still love to chat with all you lovely jiaras (and any old bellarkes!) because at the end of the day, yall are what truly made this fandom special <3

Send all the asks, rants, and thoughts!

[abby118]

Hi abby. I don't know the specifics but I just wanted to say that I'm sorry people are shitty to you and send awful things, I don't know what's wrong with someone who does that. It says so much more about them than it ever will about you, because you're just existing in your corner of the internet and doing nice things, posting great stuff. I love your posts about Loki and the Thor movies. I don't know who wants to ruin a good thing for someone who doesn't do anything bad. And sending shitty anons and goddamn suicide baiting people is despicable. I hope you know you're great and they're messed up. I'm not *happy* happy that you're taking a break, because I'll miss your posts of course, but I'm happy you've made that decision to take care of yourself and your wellbeing. I hope you're well, resting and doing many nice things while you're away from here. Hugs! 💚💚💚

You're so kind, thank you💚🖤 Yea, I've been getting consistent hate ever since I returned to tumblr (I'd had a different blog before this one) but I ignore and delete most of it because they're just bullies. These people however, go out of their way to pretend to be me or my friends or just straight up tell me to kill myself. For those who know, no, I'm fairly certain it's not just them. And I've been open about my struggles, I mean, you do see who this blog is about so it's not that surprising that I'm not exactly the prime example of mental health. Using that against me is really telling about the intellect, or lack there of, of said people. That's all I'll say about that.

I'm still here, I might not be as active for a while but that doesn't mean they chased me off. I've been here for a half of my life at this point. As for doing nice things, I'm mostly focusing on my personal writing project, as always, which has been great. So no worries. I really appreciate your words <3

[p0ssywhippedcream]

HIII OPHEE !!! im sososososo glad youre back now !! how are you ? how have you been ? ill admit i was really worried about you since youve been gone for so so so long, but i was hoping it was just a break from writing. i hope youve been alright for the past months !!

again im sosososososososoooo glad youre back !! youre definitely my favorite blogger here, i checked nearly everyday to see if you posted again and i was SO SHOCKED when i saw you liked my post !!

im so happy youre back now !! i really really hope youve been fine lately, its been soso long ! ❤️❤️❤️

MY BEAUTIFUL PRECOCIOUS MOOT😭😭😭😭

you have no comprehension of how much i missed you personally like talking to you is one of my favorite parts of tumblr and i can’t wait to fangirl over fictional men w you again!!

i’m sorry i didn’t return when i started liking stuffs, i wanted to get the feel of tumblr first for a couple weeks and really try to write again before promising to return and then not having anything to show for it. so i was liking a ton of posts and i bet it confused some people😭😭

(TW: talk of SA below, not graphic just mentions of the word)

life has literally been so crazy but great; i went through a really shitty relationship but it taught me that i needed to value myself and my love more. i went to court for my childhood SA and he got found guilty of all charges and put in prison for 120 years! i got like four more tattoos and i made a ton of really good friends, dyed my hair blue than pink and orange than bright green than red and now it’s white! my other rapist died in a car crash (karma loves me in 2024 bro) and i got a new job that i absolutely adore! my bio dad tried to come back into my life by following me on instagram (declined fAWk that) and i quit and unquit and requit nicotine like four times. much has happened there’s def a ton i left out but that’s the overall gist lol

i’m so happy to be back, tell me everything!! how’s your life been, anything big? anything small? anything at all? (pls pls tell me stuffs i’m so curious)

[glamorousnightmares]

TW: g0re art, f3t1ish art, mental illness

Hello everyone, it's been a while since I've made a sincere post and really been on here. I apologize to my online friends who I feel like I've abandoned, my irl life has gotten quite busy.

It's taken me too long to make a post about this but I think it's time to finally face my fear and admit to somethings I never even wanted to think about again. No one made any callouts or did anything to scare me into this, I just want to rid myself of feeling so guilty about the things I've done. It isn't easy to come on here and talk about it, but I need to address what I've done so that I won't hide it any longer than I have. All of everything i talk about is public and I'm mixed on if i will take it down just so I can be reminded of who I was before and to never, ever return to anything like it again.

A few years back, 2021 I think, I got on Tumblr for the very first time. I was not ready for anything like this and I should have waited until I got right in the head space to get on a platform like this. Before then, I had a discord, which I spewed so many words I no longer agree with or stand by. I have changed and grown over the years, almost a new person but with the scars of my past always leaning over me. I didn't fully understand what I was talking about or what I said. To be clear, it wasn't a slur or something, it was a really shitty take on something I thought was right but now I see is severly fucked up. I no longer stand by what i said. I won't get into the details, but if you want them just dm me and ask. If nothing else, this is a callout to myself and who I was before.

Now the worst part and what still haunts me to this day. (To preface, this is where the tw starts, tread carefully.) When I first got my tumblr, I didn't know the dangers of the internet fully. I didn't think about any actions I did, I just wanted to be seen. I will be blunt, I reblogged g0re art and f3tish gore art because of multiple reasons. (None of which are right don't get me wrong)

1. I was not and will never EVER be attracted to anything like that, it was NOT a f3t1sh thing, my brain was just attached to it because of some fucked up things of my past. I won't get specific, that's just what I wanted to see and reblog at the time. I've blocked out a lot of it to be honest, so i don't remember some of why I looked at/ shared such horrible images. Thinking about it now makes me sick and I want nothing more than to bring to light what I've done and seen so that no one will use something like this against me or hurt others with it. It was a sort of "comfort the disturbed, disturb the comforted" type thing.

2. It would shock those I talked to and make me look "insane" and "crazy" so I could be different. I hate those people now and I refuse to ever be like that again, and remembering who I was and how it affected others makes me steer clear of ever even considering being like it again. G0re art and f3t1sh g0re art will never ever be allowed on my blog or anywhere near it again. I wish I could go back and erase all of it, and I have done my best to do so. If you see anything like that, please for the love of God don't interact with it. If you are hurting to the point where you feel as if you need to or are hurting others, please seek help. You are not alone and there is always a brighter day. If you are thinking about doing anything like what any of those pictures showed, please tell someone close to you and do not hurt yourself or anyone around you. Someone will always listen and cares about you, I promise.

Another thing was the way I treated others back then was shitty, and while I had so much fun with everyone that I met, talked to, or just had a few interactions with, I hold all of them incredibly close to my heart. I will try to interact on here more and do my best to be a better person with strong morals and the best intentions.

Saying all of this leads me to one thing I should have said more back then; I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was like that and how I treated others. I'm sorry I had to put all of you through that just because of things going on in my own life. You all deserved better and I needed to be better.

Living with what I've done, said, and shown had been tough, I'm not going to lie. I'm not trying to make it a sob story, I'm just being honest. But it was important to who I am today and what it makes me as a person. Was it right? No, it never will be no matter how much I try to justify it. But learning from it and taking away the lessons is more important than anything. I hope this could clear some air and shine light on who I was so that I will never become like that again, hurting others and only showing and being the worst the world has to offer. Making not the world, but at least some corner of it brighter and better than It was will be my main goal now. I no longer want to be hurtful, I want to help those who need it. If there is one thing I will strive for, it is to be better.

With love and high hopes,

-Glam☆

[neallo]

Whaaa I have been offline on Tumblr for weeks!!! Thank you for keeping my blog alive when I was away. I feel like a shitty follower for not showing any support for such a period of time T_T

Anyways I drew something for your short story that I love so much, the kidnap one. I really love Near's bratty attitude and Mello's soft side here (although he tried not to show it)

Last time I asked you how the drink looked like and you even did me a favor and sent me an image with transparent background. How thoughtful of you! I literally just had to copy and paste it here *save me so much time*

I am a bit sad that this great story doesn't have a chance to get finished and published though T_T

(Did I miss anything interesting when I was away...?)

SMILE!! i missed you!! hdhdgfhfgghfg don't feel bad about being offline, real life stuff always comes first🤝 and most importantly— scream!! i am obsessed with this drawing 🥰 near's spoiled brat behavior... i really like both their expressions (and the fuzzy pink handcuffs omg) plus the fact that mello is sitting on the floor with near trying his best with no luck 😂

i'm still so pleased you enjoy that short story idea, i've been having a hard time making progress on most of my writing so maybe i'll return and try to add a little more to it 👀❣️ there has been a lot of beautiful fanart recently, i'll send you some of them via message 🥰

[beevean]

Tbh i also have loads of fun tearing apart the Peak Writing! Beyond the typical enjoyment of being a hatertm its a writing analysis exercise in figuring out all the ways it failed expectacularly, and the little moments where it got things right before going back to wrong. Like studying a train crash to figure out how it happened and how it could have been prevented. Plus in the process one can think abt the context the work was produced in and one's own writing preferences and biases. Its a fun puzzle and at this point nfcv is my personal chewtoy for when i wanna release the salt <3

Plus, tumblr got the advantage of tags, if anyone specifically dislikes criticism of the peak they can just block the tag or thee and continue with their life. Like the whole purpose here is to criticize the writing, not to simply mindlessly seek fights with fans.

You get it <3

NFCV is seen as a high work of art, a masterpiece of characterization and philosophy. So I challenge the text at the level it wants to be seen, and it returns to me nothing but disappointment. The thing is that the deeper I dig (and the more my Very Smart Mutuals contribute, I appreciate your braincells <3), the more I find, so it becomes almost a game: just how much does the text suck? It's a surprise every time! :D

It doesn't help that the most vocal critics... criticize for the wrong reasons, to say the least. So I feel like I have to contribute something, instead of relying on others.

Also I get what you mean about biases. It absolutely helps to stop and think "why is this viscerally repulsive to me? Why do I roll my eyes at the show's attempt to make vampires 'more' than evil monsters? Why do I hate Alucard insulting Trevor instead of accepting his 'depression' at face value? Why can't I accept Isaac's happiness and find him justifiable? Why do I feel personally insulted by everything that happens in Hector's story to the point that I cannot physically shut the fuck up about it?" No joke, it really did help to put order into my mind, especially when it comes to the narrative of abuse and redemption/atonement/punishment. also something something sometimes i feel like a hypocrite for despising lenector so much considering my own tastes lol

Nocturne doesn't interest me at all. It's boring, it's bland, it's Castlevania in all but name, nothing about it is salvageable. But in NFCV I see the kernels of a good adaptation, of a good story, all gone wasted by a shitty writer and his egocentrical entourage, and boy. boy is there nothing worse than Missed Potential 🙃 especially when it gets praised to high heavens for reasons that might as well be expressed in an alien language 🙃

also it helps comparing it to the games :) while they have their own writing flaws and it would be silly to ignore them, 99% of the time when the show has something that doesn't work, it's because they changed it from the games for no reason. So now I appreciate the main source more :D <- fun fact this is how I became a Hector stan. by hating the show so much that I had to spam pages of the manga to cope. sometimes being a Hater™ turns you into a Lover™ <3

[talk-to-me4ever]

HIII!!! Talks @ u forever

erm what do you do whne you really dislike a person but they're dating your best friend

like they aren't a bad person or anything they just REALLY annoy me because a few certain things,,, like one that really makes me upset is how hard setting boundaries are with them,,, i remember recently me & them were joking around in a discord server and they made this really sexual joke towards me and it made me really uncomfortable and. i told him hey! can you not make those jokes please as a boundary (in dms) and they literally apologized for it like 200 times. and i felt so guilty about it and now every time they make me uncomfortable i just feel guilty making their insecurities flare up like that because they have a lot of mental health problems but they're basically just guilttripping me even if it's unintentional idk i just if i told my friend about their bf being like this than she'd either not believe me or she'd break up with him and his issues would get worse,, i'm kinda acting like a mini therapist for him atp and i've worked really hard to try and make him feel like he doesn't have to apologize for everything and that we care about him and if we just left he wouldn't believe it anymore. like at the end of the day i pretty much have to keep being his like stand in therapist but GOD does it get tiring especially when he can just run around saying whatever because i'm so shitty at setting boundaries

vagueposting on a tumblr blog probably isn't the most mature move but eh this has been on my mind for some time lol

on anon because my best friend has tumblr and i don't want them seeing this ���� but i think you know who i am LMAO

hey how about you just take a breather here and we’ll get a hang on things. So from what I understood, you’re having trouble asserting yourself and are stuck in a situation where you have to make sure the other person is alright despite it affecting you in an unpleasant manner.. Well, in any case, if you’re doing the job of taking care of someone for them (without any primary reason of let’s say a family member or sick friend you’d go to the end of the earth for) then it’s most likely a relationship that’s bound to be destroyed.

Most things when forced just don’t work out well, even if you have a vague sense of obligation that’s just unspokenly pulling you to stay with someone because you can’t bare to see them hurting. It’s something that many empathetic people suffer with and often leads to a draining exchange between someone who is likely ignorant to the help they’re getting and someone who is giving their all but getting nothing in return. Ofcourse, I’m not saying that’s what’s happening, because there’s thousands of variables that could affect a situation, but I just am one to say that if you gotta be overly careful around someone, limit yourself, and feel awful because you’re trying your best for them and are getting nothing in return, to just stop that little game. Easy on paper but can be a struggle in real life. Disliking someone can be a natural process but if it’s actively worsening your mental state, even just bit by bit gnawing at you like a termite infestation, then it deserves to be adressed, especially if to the point where you are aware of it and the discomfort it brings.

Usually, in life, the universe does a silly thing where when you remove one thing, it bounces back. It’s just a strange thing I’ve noticed, like.. if you save $2 somewhere, in some odd range of events you’ll end up paying 2 bucks extra somewhere. It’s an odd effect I’ve noticed and unsure if it has a name or is just a theory, but it’s similar with people for me. If I stop talking to one person, I’m just magically supplied with another individual a few weeks down the line. It’s like a cycle of balance. And for good to come sometimes you gotta be patient through rocky times. But you need to know, if there isn’t anything that’s changing, you must actively do something.

If he is bothering you, albeit with mere presence alone, you need to work on allowing yourself the courage to set your foot down. Even if it means being rude, even if it results in appearing mean and a bit cold, but you shouldn’t prioritise other people over yourself, never, in any condition. It’s good to try keep relationships healthy and blossoming but many people just force themselves to stay in a loop in fear of losing someone close, rejection, or being uncertain. Change is a natural part of life, and if in response to you being yourself someone leaves, then it was just meant to be. Don’t be afraid of announcing that you’re not exactly comfortable with something, and best of all it’s nice to work things out, but if they refuse to listen, make stern decisions.

You deserve peace in life and relationships that don’t feel like a chore, friend. And even through a hard moral struggle, I believe you can decide on something that best works for you.

im a bit unsure of how to work through boundaries and all but if you pin point a specific problem, then that could be a good place to start. Do make sure you are happy, though. Please. I want you to be able to say that you’re uncomfortable and for things to just calmly happen and change, ya know? I hope your day (and lifetime) goes well. :)

[imhereforscm]

heyyyy, just know that you're allowed to take as much time as you need off. I recently also just lost my pet and know that it hurts man. Know that you gave them the best life possible and to remember the good times that you both were happy knowing each other. This summer's been rough so know you're not alone.

You're really talented and deserve nothing but the best regardless.

Make sure to take care of yourself and rest when you can.

I'm so sorry for your loss...

Her (my dog's) loss still hurts me and I miss her every day, every minute. But I try to remind myself, that she'd suffer if she was here, while now, at least, she's at peace and she's not hurting anymore... It's a hard thing to stomach, but I'm working through it.

I swear this summer has been shitty for everyone. I don't think I've ever lived such a horrid summer before. It's like a shadow of doom has fallen over everyone.

I'm better. Far better. Although, I'm worried about the state Greece is in currently...

There are fires everywhere. The cause of those fires are the assholes who set them and half of Greece—if not the entirety—has now been burnt. The most infuriating part, is that it is a human's doing that's causing those fires. Not lightning or something. I heard in the news today, about fires in other countries too, so I hope every single one of you out there is safe and out of harm...

But aside from that, I think I'm ready to return to Tumblr and continue posting like I used to. Hopefully something else won't occur and fuck shit up again, cause I'm actually so tired. I've had enough...! Lately, I've gotten hits from every possible angle and I'm tired! All I want, is to return to Tumblr and post and have fun and be creative again, with those who I love and get excited about our passions again.

So... Feel free to send something in my inbox and start a chat. Tell me your thoughts, a theory, a headcanon, what you had for lunch, who's your favourite god, anything!!❤️

I love you all!!❤️❤️❤️

[aziraphalalala]

She stepped closer, understanding in her eyes.

“So, he left you… for a job opportunity?”

“Nngggghhhyyeeaaaah, you could say that.”

“Well, good riddance. If he didn’t choose you, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“He kind of does, you know.”

This snippet comes from my first ever fic, "In the bookshop, after". I promised I'd answer any asks with 500 words from anywhere on any fic I've written here, so, here we are. Author rambling meta, served piping hot, coming up!

Why did I write this fic?

This fic, albeit a short one-shot, was written in the emotional aftershock of *points finger at the last 15 minutes of Good Omens S2E6*.

The second season finally unleashed a burst of creativity and a desire to write in me that had been lying in wait for quite some time. Suddenly, I had so many ideas, and I needed to let it all out somehow. I drew. I sang. I wrote shitty poetry. I returned to tumblr to scream about Good Omens with everyone else.

Once I wrote this fic, it was like opening a Pandora's Box. I can no longer stop, nor do I want to. Writing gives me life. I enjoy it so much I am now writing a multi-chapter human AU fic which will end up being around 30,000 words. In less than 2 months.

It's crazy, and glorious.

Anyway, back to this snippet.

The characters, the dialogue, the context

This unnamed lady, who steps in to the bookshop as Crowley is slowly but steadily consuming quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol, has an uncanny way of picking up things she shouldn't be able to.

Crowley and the lady have a conversation which happens on multiple levels, especially for Crowley. He ends up being painfully honest, secure in his knowledge that most of it goes over the head of this random person.

We, the readers, are not sure whether that's truly the case. She appears rather unusually perceptive.

I have plans for that random person, and a whole backstory for her. I might write it one day. That fic would go a long way explaining her side of this conversation.

But for now, we don't really know her, and we leave it at that.

What was I thinking as I wrote this?

This moment, these lines, draw heavily from my own life. I, too, once imagined that love is an emotion that in itself can be enough for a relationship. Experience, sometimes harshly, has taught me that in the end, our actions and choices are more important than our intentions and emotions.

Does this person choose me? Do they prioritize my needs? Do they make an effort, day in day out, to make our relationship work?

This is the lesson the lady wishes to drill into Crowley. And if it were any other person in the world, a friend of mine for example, I'd tell them to move on. Good riddance. They don't choose you, they don't deserve you.

But. Aziraphale and Crowley have been friends, enemies and co-conspirators for six millennia. How does one even begin to define the complexities of their relationship?

Have they not, consistently, worked to keep each other safe, to find short moments together that they can share in secret?

Their relationship is a relationship that thrives despite being forbidden. Despite the fear that's ever present in their lives.

Some word choice trivia.

"Job opportunity" is a very purposeful choice, because it's a slightly revolting business jargon term. It's jarring, seeing it in the context of Good Omens and our two supernatural beings. It implies, heavily, that it's a bullshit opportunity, meaning it's not what it seems to be. It implies that the lady thinks Aziraphale made the stupidest choice on the planet for something that isn't worth it.

Crowley kinda agrees, but not whole-heartedly, because I believe he knows Aziraphale had very little choice in the end.

And, let's face it. Being an angel of Heaven is basically a shitty corporate job that sucks the life and soul out of you.

"He kind of does, you know." This is where the conversation really happens on a few different levels. Since Crowley understands why Aziraphale did what he did (at least in my head), he still has hope that they can be together, in the end. That they are, in fact, fighting the same fight, on the same side.

Finally.

I'll leave it to all of you to decide whether the lady truly knows what's up when we say "She stepped closer, understanding in her eyes."

Does she understand, think she understands, or do we misinterpret her expression? Again, how is she there? How can she just pick up the conversation, and so many details without being told?

One day I hope we'll find out.

Thanks for the ask, anon! This was fun. 😊

[followthecyborg]

On Being 25

This post is long and has also been a long time coming.

I've been running this blog since August of 2017, in the midst of an eating disorder and an abusive relationship. I was a pop punk kid looking for community. Over the next few years I fell into pseudointellectualism; I cosplayed the prestigious scholar who lived for November days and moldy book pages. I loved ancient Greek and ancient Rome and dramatic, bloody imagery. I had a few hit posts (they reached 1k notes) and I thought I found a community.

In 2021, my life took a huge turn. I was about to graduate with my bachelor's degree, my professors wanted me to enroll in a creative writing program, and I should have been happy. But I wasn't—I was stuck at home with my conservative mother who drove me up the wall with her conspiracy theories. My friends both in real life and online were distant, and I was at my loneliest. I was burnout and insignificant, and I became very, very close to k-lling myself one day. The details don't matter. All that matters is that I didn't do it, and with what I became after, there were people who thought I should have done it. This was also around the time I came to terms with the fact that I'm autistic.

Over the next several months I would abandon this blog and become a born again Christian. I also adopted my mother's conservative beliefs because I needed something to grasp. Later I would learn I was most likely going through a spiritual psychosis/personality change because of my almost-attempt. I returned to tumblr and continued posting with an adjacent, modern aesthetic, but I also brought my newfound conservative ideas. This is something that I'm still very ashamed of, because it affected people in my life who I once cherished as being my closest friends. My isolation from others permanently destroyed my friendships and how people who trusted me saw me.

I fell down another rabbithole of t3rfism around this time. In hindsight, it was most likely because of the conservatism (which I was no longer part of), the fact that I had zero female friends, and my only "friend" was a douchebag guy who only wanted to sleep with me. I never identified as a t3rf, but I did join them in questioning certain aspects of society. It was so obvious that one of my previous friends called me out on it when I tried contacting them to reconnect at the end of 2022.

I'm not writing all of this to receive pity. I'm writing this because I feel the need to atone for my past actions. I've apologized to the people who needed apologies.

I lost a lot of my traction when I returned to tumblr. I wasn't posting consistently, so I became yet another up-and-coming tumblr user who was pushed to the shadows. I see some of my mutuals and wonder what would have happened if I kept up with the academic façade and posted shitty poetry. Could I have crowdfunded a grad degree, or had readers for my poetry book?

All this is to say that I wasn't the same when I came back to tumblr. Engagement on my original postings are now zero. This blog just doesn't feel like "me", and it hasn't since 2021.

I've outgrown this blog.

My degree hasn't gotten me far. I'm not in grad school studying art history like I wanted to when I was 21. I'm not a published writer like my English professors encouraged me to be. The aesthetics of this blog are a sham and in no way reflect reality. The reality behind this tumblr user is that I'm a 25 year old woman who works customer service and who still can't afford to move out. I dropped out of grad school after like 2 weeks because it sucked. I work full time, so I can't afford to study forgotten religions or 9th century theater or whatever the fuck the posters from the 'golden era' are doing off their parents' dime.

I've been developing my interests organically without people on the internet swaying my opinions. I'm not trying my hardest to live up to a certain aesthetic and making myself miserable in the process. I reached an age that the original creator of this blog in 2017 thought she'd never see. I feel better about picking up the pieces of my life now that I'm not using 25 as my deadline.

I'm not done with tumblr forever. I may remake my blog one day—a blog that isn't a time capsule of some of my worst developmental years. For now this is goodbye.

[2af-afterdark]

So uh. Winter depression hit full force and I have fallen off the face of the Earth and now I feel anxious coming back, but I also miss reading your posts and sending silly things to your inbox... Which means that I need to actually write something...

First off, I guess I'd like to know if you've received the three long asks I sent you, like, a month ago? I wish I could say what was in them, but my memory is exceptionally shitty and so all I remember is that one of them was me trying to provide more details for that one Bael idea I told you about. I never got around to making sure it actually sent and didn't just disappear, and I'm sorry for that. I remember you saying you liking the idea and wanting to write for it, and I probably made that a whole lotta harder for you.

I've also had a burnout after all and hadn't been able to force myself to pick WHB up again. I'm thoroughly enjoying NuKani though (despite Eiden being stubborn and not coming home after 170 pulls), and hoping to return to the horny devils, too. Bael still has me in a chokehold and I miss him.

Sorry if this was too personal and uninteresting. Not really sure if I'm being a bother, but I figured I should probably kick myself into telling you I've yet to perish. I hope you're doing well, or at least okay! Please remember to rest and drink water <3

— 💛

💛!!!!!!!!!!!! I was afraid I had blocked you during one of my follower checks! I'm so sorry the winter depression has taken its tole on you. It's a lot every year. Why is the human body like this....

Personally, I haven't been writing as much lately because, uhhh, I explained last week (the post is private now) that I have been in a weird funk because I learned that my father died and it's made me kind of... confused in a lot of ways? You just happened to send everything right before I got that news...

I got your request and the ask that explained MC's personality. I may have answered the other two? I certainly don't see them in my inbox at least. Was it this one where you ask about the nightmare pass stuff? If not, Tumblr may have eaten them.

Olivine is on my shit list right now because he refuses to come home and I lost my 50/50... I just want to get shit in my gacha! I need hot men and art and fanfics all catered toward my specific taste! Manaed the first two, but I am super picky about the last one and I can't find a writer with open commissions that matches my needs. Sadness.

I'm glad you found the strength to send something in at least! Hope life and your brain treat you better in the coming weeks. You deserve it.

Hugs and kisses from across the internet~