#might panic and delete this blog I have no clue

[stuckasmain]

So I ended up making the other Rp blogs , I have a problem so here we are.

They all follow two rules

Of staying semi in time period? Despite ... having a blog - don’t think about it two much

Second there all mainly ask based as I’m completely unsure on how to do the whole fancy set up with the asks and having a rp though that (so for a actual serious rp Dm them-)

So anyway here’s the list

@alwaysaduckman

Duckie dale

This one doesn’t get that much attention and I’d like it to, so if your a fan of pretty in pink I guess

@wontyoucomeoutandplay

Marko

New ones:

@brandonwalshbikefund

Brand Walsh

This one is for fun and currently having a sort of fixation on the goonies

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

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1. I'm hoping you can help me find a modern hospital AU that I vaguely remember but don't have a clue who wrote it.  Wei Wuxian is a hospital volunteer (very good with young patients) but also a long time patient (maybe cancer) who encounters Lan Wangji and his family.  I'm not even absolutely sure it's Lan Wangji who's the patient.  However, it was clear that living to an old age was definitely not guaranteed for either.  Lovely story, so I'd be very grateful if someone can track it down.

FOUND! some things go forward by everythingispoetry (T, 73k, wangxian, modern, hospitals, teenage drama, slow burn, hurt/comfort, happy ending, Mojo’s post)

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2. Hello! I'm looking for a fic - WWX returned to Cloud Recess and has been staying at the Jingshi with LWJ. But he thinks he should move out so he moved to a guest room. I remember a scene where LWJ came rushing in a panic because he thought WWX left :(Thank you!! @kayechan-blog

FOUND? can i look the other way by shipyrds (G, 2k, wangxian, post-canon, misundesrtandings, fluff)

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3. hi hello🥺 I need your help finding a fic, maybe you've read it!!! All I remember is that xicheng go on a much needed vacation but on their way they meet two kids and end up adopting them. I can't find it anywhere😭😭 @hissingfire​

FOUND?  For the heirs to come (be brave) by velithya (E, 24k, JC/LXC, post-canon, canon typical violence, smut, hurt/comfort, insecurity, fluff, accidental child acquisation, found family, PTSD, grief/mourning)

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4. Hello! I'm looking for a fic that I don't recall in nearly enough detail to even know where to start looking. I just remember this one specific scene where wwx is injured(?) and manages to climb up the stairs to cloud recesses, but he's not allowed in bc he's only allowed in for the winter/when it snows. I think it happened to be the day before or something? And the juniors discover him outside and are outraged. Does anyone recognize the fic? Tysm!!

FOUND? Scenes From Three Winters by LtLJ (G, 12k, wangxian, post-canon, romance, family feels, family issues, family drama, PTSD, body horror, bad parent LQR, happy ending)

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5.   Heyo Mod L! I’m looking for a fic where WWX and the Wens moved to Yiling. It started as WWX teaching the kids how yo write and escalated from there. He has a small school there and JC came to see when he found they weren’t paying taxes? Please help me and Thank you!!

❤️ Just as the Snow Melts by draechaeli (T, 66k, wangxian, my post)

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6. Hello i'm trying to find this fic which i suddenly remember while reading Like Rabbits by Setari I'm saying that cause i think the fic i'm looking for is similar in terms of them having multiple kids but WWX going to gusu to ask for help cause there's a wangxian baby on the way/is born but WWX and LWJ already had a couple of kids that WWX keep secret (i think) so he gone to gusu to ask for LWJ to help care for the kids. Timeline events wise i think it's when the Wens and WWX are living in the Burial Mounds i'm not really sure on that. It's been a while back since I've read that fic the details might be completely wrong from what i said vs the actual events in the fic. Also sorry if that's short on details but that's all i remember and hopefully the fic i'm looking for isn't just a figment of my imagination.

FOUND? The Third Time by CordeNarcissus (M, 12k, wangxian, ABO, mpreg, unplanned pregnancy, marriage, everyone lives au, alternate endings)

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7. Hello! Im looking for a yizhan fic (please just delete this ask if it's not within the bounds of the blog but if it is, plspls help me find it) It's a getting BACK together fic, future (?) fic and all I can remember is Yibo is almost  retired, living somewhere where there are mountains (?) And xiao zhan just keeps on dropping by without a heads up, and sometimes even waits for him. It actually takes a while for them to get back together or even kiss againI really want to re-read that delicious pacing of a fic, thank you so much for your hard work! <3<3 (Is it obvious that i would die without this blog, i love you all so much) @losing-victor​

FOUND!  A Long Time Ago… We Used to be Friends by DeviyudeThoolika (E, 49k, WYB/XZ, slow burn, angst)

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8. LWJ is the head of the Lan, who were devastated in the war against the Wen. None of the other clans protected them, despite both them and WWX requesting. LWJ asks for WWX's hand in marriage. Everyone thinks it is to punish him or get revenge, but actually it is because WWX snuck out to help the Lan and Jin-asshole was going to have him killed for it. @fightmehomework

FOUND! golden when the day met the night by Anonymous (not rated, 67k, wangxian, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light angst, fluff, eventual smut, WIP)

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9. hi! i was looking for this one wangxian fic that’s inspired by a richard siken poem or something like that, but i cant find it :( so i was wandering if anyone remembers the title or has the link

FOUND? drop me down to the dream below by AroPeterWam (E, 44k, wangxian, time travel, comfort, angst w/ happy ending, reincarnation, dimension travel, sick WWX, noncultivator WWX, WIP)

FOUND? the landscape after cruelty, which is, of course, a garden by Folderol (G, 3k, WWX & WQ, burial mounds settlement days)

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10. Hi! Can you help me find a fic where Lan Zhan is a God of Death or something close to that wherein whenever lwj touches smth, it dies. I remember reading it on AO3. The story goes something like lwj accidentally touched wwx and then wwx dies. :(( Thank u so much!

FOUND?  Destined to Meet You by Reader997 (E, 30k, wangxian, hades/persephone au, mpreg, first time, childbirth, smut)

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11. HELLO!!! love all the hard work that you do!!!!!! i was wondering if anyone has the link to a wangxian fic where lwj’s mom lived in a cottage (?) and was sick, so wangxian moved there to help her, oh and it was an modern au, and i think had only one chapter out of 2 when i read it, that’s it thank u so much!!

FOUND? paired wings soaring by typefortydeductions (E, 33k, wangxian, modern, domestic bliss, slice of life, angst & fluff & smut, hurt/comfort, kissing, BDSM, light somnophilia)

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12. Hello, here's one for the next Fic Finder post -- It was a TGCF crossover where Wei Wuxian's soul, during the 13 years he was dead, was being kept safe by Hua Cheng. Hua Cheng was willing to intervene on WWX's behalf because Lan Wangji prayed to Xie Lian for the safety of his soul, and Hua Cheng approves of other people who worship Dianxia. I read it back before I knew anything about TGCF, and I'd really like to read it again! @mikkeneko​

not FOUND happiness, with you by glowelegans (M, 5k, wangxian, TGCF crossover, grief/mourning)

'happiness, with you' does not seem to be the one I'm thinking of, though I'm happy to read it too! The one I remember had WWX talking to Hua Cheng throughout most of it, in some kind of spirit-trapping pouch or vessel in Hua Cheng's possession.

FOUND! The Pros and Cons of Keeping Wei Wuxian's Spirit Hostage by cringewerewolf (T, 12k, wangxian, hualian, angst, suicidal ideation, humor, happy ending)

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13. Hi! This is such a great resource for finding fics y’all do so much. I’m looking for a fic where most of the ensemble cast is in acting school together and the final production of the semester is Much Ado About Nothing, and WWX and LWJ play the leads. Could you help me find it? Thank you!!! @waterlilyvioletfog​

FOUND? too wise to woo peaceably bybhere_perishing (M,  43k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, drama school, actors, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, pining, getting together, angst w/ happy ending, fluff & smut)

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14. hello! I'm looking for a fic where LWJ sleeps with Burial Mounds era WWX. It was not a very long fic, and they were not together. LWJ does not go to the Burial Mounds. I think they meet up in some dusty room in Yiling. He may have talked to Wen Qing about WWX's condition and that he needs to dual cultivate. There was definitely mention of what terrible shape WWX is in after his fall into the Burial Mounds, broken bones,I think it mentioned his wrist held together with resentment. @significanceofmoths​

FOUND? A Cup of Tea by Silvers_Hidden_Corner (Silver_Flame_2724) (E, 4k, wangxian, burial mounds settlement days, dubious consent, aphrosidiacs, porn w/ plot, dual cultivation, WWX has new golden core, communication, fix-it of sorts)

FOUND? sometimes my hands don't feel like my own by northofallmusic (tofsla) (E, 8k, wangxian, resentful energy tentacles, tender body horror, weird sex, golden core mad science, relationship negotiations, chronic pain, sex magic)

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15. Okay I really need your help!! I know I've seen you answer this on a fic finder post before but I've been scrolling through for HOURS and still haven't found it 😭 basically the fic is an arranged marriage between lwj and wwx and wwx has a really hard time adjusting to cloud recesses. Lwj and lxc try their best to help him but lqr is punishing him for every small little thing. I think there's a scene where wwx breaks down while getting fitted for new clothes maybe? I remember near the end jc comes to visit and lqr comes to apologize while he's there and wwx just starts crying bc he thinks lqr is going to make him leave just as he and lwj finally got close. Please please help me find this fic!!! Thank you so much for all you do!!!!  @dekus-gonna-wreck-you​

FOUND! Mourning Robes by Starlight1395 (T, 17k, wangxian, arranged marriage, no sunshot, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, depression, dissociating, fluff)

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[oldguardhc]

Hello, let me tell you that I love your blog and this movie. Well, my ask is, what are your thoughts and/or hc about periods? Cramps, tampons, etc. (sorry if this is a no no topic >. <)

Old Guard hc #119

Thank you 🥰🥰🥰

I hc that they’re all infertile upon becoming immortal. It might be canon too? I’m pretty sure Andy would’ve had a kid with Achilles in the comics if she could’ve.

Anyways, I have this wacky idea that when they rescue someone and they’re on their period, they start to panic because where are they going to get wool to absorb the blood? They’re like, ma’am I don’t have wool but will this blanket work? I have a knife, we can cut it.

Cramps. They’re like stomach aches, right? Booker almost gets slapped for that comment. They have some booze and pills if it gets too bad. Their offer is taken up more times than one would imagine.

Tampons. They know about TSS. That’s it. They have no clue about the different applicators or that there’s even a string on it. They all assume it has a flaired base.

They’re all super happy that they don’t advertise pads door-to-door anymore. Nicky never got the hang of closing the door mid-speech.

Andy honestly forgot that women get periods at one point. It’s not like Quynh had one either.

Nile is freaking ecstatic that she no longer has periods and that she didn’t have to go through menopause. She deleted her period tracking app so fast her phone glitched.

[miraculouscontent]

Ask Explo--

...you know what, you’re right. Name change effective immediately.

Askplosion #10:

(unrelated to everything by the way but I DEMAND THE ANON WHO MENTIONED “REMARRIED EMPRESS” A WHILE BACK COME FORTH AND ANSWER FOR THEIR CRIMES. IT’S SO GOOD BUT IT’S UNFINISHED AND I’M HOOKED, HOW DARE YOU)

Asks responding to previous posts:

It’s okay! I figured that was what it was but it’s been so loooong.

Ah, wow.

Um, that’s definitely not a part 2; I think that’s more like a four-parter/five-parter or something.

Sorry! No can do!

That’s totally fair!

I think the reason I so quickly agreed with it is like--

I’ve been watching the Inuyasha sequel and it’s not like I don’t think the narrative’s apparent punching bag Moroha (who is fourteen years old) shouldn’t be punished when she does something wrong/sneaky/manipulative, but they punish her as if she’s Miroku (who was eighteen years old).

Basically, I want the punishment to take the age into account, or at least only affect Marinette on a more personal level and not be “Heart Hunter” where they take totally understandable feelings of heartache (remember, it wouldn’t have mattered which miraculous she took because Hawk Moth got the Miracle Box and Fu regardless; even beyond her emotions, I feel like she chose the best option available to her considering which temps she knew the location of) and then punish her for them by memory wiping Fu and taking away all of her temps and giving Hawk Moth the grimoire translation.

Yes!! I really wanted to respond to this one, thank you! (It’s this one and then there was another one talking about Luka and Adrien, then talked to me about how I refer to Luka as “soft” but not in a bad way; I unfortunately don’t remember the whole thing.)

Ahaha, and yeah, I feel you. Anti-salters are a very strange conundrum I still haven’t figured out; like, I get not liking salt, but...

I mean, when I don’t like certain content, I just blacklist it. If I end up seeing it anyway due to cross-tagging or a lack of tagging, then I just blacklist the person themself. You won’t see me going after people for that very reason; I only see what people send/ask me if it’s content I don’t like.

I’m glad you’ve found some peace in this blog! Hopefully it continues to be that way for you in the future!

(and yay, a fellow INTJ!!)

New Asks:

There are female writers? ;P I just assumed they were all locked in a closet until the male ones were like, “okay, pretend to help us here, we need one female writer to claim girl power.”

As for Ladybug all like, “Cute, isn’t she?” I think it was rhetorical (she could also be messing with him but “Glaciator” tells us that she didn’t know he crushed on her so who knows). The writers do this thing where Marinette is all panic-y and occasionally self-conscious as herself, but then as Ladybug, she suddenly gets a bit of an ego. I think it’s meant to be there in order to make Chat Noir look less... idk, “obnoxious” when he starts boosting his own ego; trying to balance the two by giving them both big heads, so to speak.

Honestly, I feel like Adrien needs less screen time. :|

Even when he’s not on-screen, characters are usually talking about him, or you see his face in Marinette’s room/somewhere in Paris. I’m become so jaded by the guy that I don’t even think it’d matter if they remade the series and gave it a “totally good and interesting Adrien.” That’s how badly the show has made him out for me; “Adrien Agreste” the character is just... sigh, I’m so done with him.

And yeah, this whole idea about, “Marinette is [x], we need more AAAAAADRIEN!” comes off really bad, lol, especially when Adrien has very little going for him.

(this ask ends off like there should be a part 2 but there isn’t one in my inbox, so sorry if there’s meant to be something else!)

The exact lyrics according to the wiki:

My wish for a cat who's in love, with our own Ladybug. Is that he'll get what he's always wanted! She doesn't know she loves him, only sees Adrien, But Christmas miracles always happen!

Yeah, especially nowadays, those lines bothers me. Not only does it imply “true selves,” but that it’s Chat who should be getting what he always wanted and Ladybug is the one with a problem.

Like, excuse me?

Probably Stormy Weather, even in the first episode. Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn’t even touch her until they arrived on top of the TV station.

+ With all those effects and shots, it made it feel more action-y than typical episodes.

Marinette, Aurore, Luka, Anarka, Jagged...

basically any name that I haven’t really heard before (”Luka” makes me think of Vocaloid but the Luka there was female), or a name that relates a lot to the character (like “Aurore” for “aurora” since she loves weather things).

dfjbghfkdgfdgnjfdg this anon really like, “I NEED ANSWERS!!!”

It’s as if these characters hit 18 or something and just grow overnight, I swear. I’m hypothetically fine with some more variety in character height (it’s not like the show tries to be realistic, after all), but maybe don’t give us official heights if they’re gonna be this weird/inaccurate.

Especially when they change it just for the sake of a shot anyway. If you watch “Simon Says” when Ladybug and Adrien stand next to each other while looking at the picture of Adrien’s mother, the very next close-up has an obvious difference in their heights from what you just saw.

They’re 3D models!!! This shouldn’t happen!

I... honestly never thought of the “less threatening” thing! Dang!

And yeah, Marinette isn’t helpless or incompetent, but because of the Adrien crush, it makes her that way at times since she’s always falling on him and--

...ugh, actually, yeah, don’t wanna think about those implications. Hard pass.

Gross.

I’m not familiar with that one, though Astruc deletes his tweets all the time (there was one tweet where he confirmed that Luka was poor and it only exists in screenshots now because it didn’t get archived and he deleted it almost like he realized that he was pointing out the blatant classism in the show, oops).

Yeah though, I haven’t seen anything like what you’re describing. Sorry!

It’s okay! Sorry for having you clarify but him choosing and Marinette deciding to never give it back are very different things.

I don’t recall Chat Noir having much purpose in the final fight (in terms of both contributing and actual fighting; I know Cataclysm broke the object to release the akuma but was it needed?) so Marinette might either go cat-less or get a temp. Plagg could also be helpful in his own right because he’s small and blends in with the night, so he could hypothetically sneak up on the bad guy.

Afterwards, there’d need to be a new cat, but Adrien would also have to reconsider his actions and really think about what happened. I could also see Plagg going to Adrien’s house, half to apologize for giving the idea to Adrien that Adrien leave without telling Ladybug, but also half to call him out for giving up without consulting anyone. Adrien is a lot of conflicting things (see Adrien’s passivity compared to Chat Noir’s recklessness) so he’d have to find a middle ground within himself.

Marinette might carry Plagg around in her purse for a while and let Plagg have a say in who he goes to. Plagg might grieve for a bit over not having Adrien around (even if Adrien was flawed, Plagg didn’t ask for any of this so Marinette is doing her best here).

O-oh.

That’s always the rough patch with “endgame ships.”  Once it’s obvious to the audience that they’re endgame, no more effort needs to be put into them.

The other thing too is how Kagami, for example, is friends with Marinette. Even once Adrimi sinks, she’ll presumably stay friends with her. Luka, meanwhile, is Juleka’s brother.

They have lives outside of their love interests. Adrien is so into Ladybug that he doesn’t have that; I mean, Nino is Adrien’s best friend like once in a blue moon.

The entire class is just watching an episode and then calling on raised hands to answer what was wrong with what they just watched.

“Everything?”

“I mean, yes, but I’m sorry, you have to be more specific to get credit.”

I think Aeon herself is fine. It’s mostly just her transformed and that transformed name that I have a problem with (she doesn’t even look uncanny so I don’t get it). I heard there was something wrong with the name “Aeon” but searching the name doesn’t give me anything I would qualify as such so I have no idea. I just wish she was given a little less “I’m programmed to--” (makes her seem less sentient) and more “[anything that doesn’t have to do with pushing the love square]” because I feel like they might’ve done the latter to make her more “likable”? I think fans of anything usually like the “matchmaker” character provided it’s for a ship they like. Also strange that they make her a robot but Max and Markov don’t extensively interact with her, but that’s a nitpick and not a criticism of her character.

...I’m rambling, my bad lol.

(Ohhh, she was supposed to be a mummy? Like, foreshadowing her “dying”?? That went right over my head but I guess that’d be where the name Uncanny Valley came from? No clue.)

Best case scenario is probably the middle or the end of Season 4.

And yeah, it really doesn’t matter to me what they do with the love square. Marinette had gone through too much suffering and the show goes out of its way to show how much stress Marinette is being put under (and also keeping Luka away during episodes like “Gamer 2.0″ even when it makes sense for them to be there, as if trying to make sure Marinette doesn’t have enough moments with him to forget Adrien).

Like, ah, yes, I totally believe that Marinette is in a position where she can make reasonable decisions about her love life while all circles of her life are on fire.

If the Sonic movie of all things can have an interracial couple, there’s no reason why this show can’t, just saying.

And, even with Marinette, she’s white-passing (according to what basically everyone says, I’m really awful about recognizing race so this isn’t my field; I wasn’t aware that Ondine was Asian, for example).

Does Nadja count? Manon’s dark-skinned (I’m still not over the fact that all the kids in this show are dark-skinned; it’s not like it’s a problem from a representation standpoint - though all the kids are also all generically bratty/whiny so there’s that - but the percentages in this show are weird) while Nadja is really light-skinned, meaning either a dark-skinned husband or Manon is adopted.

Though I guess the problem then is that we don’t know, so there’s no established couple there.

Non-Miraculous Asks:

w-who gave you the right to say such things????

Uhhhh, that might be too broad of a question, I’m sorry!

I know this isn’t satisfactory, but I will say that my favorite genre is Fantasy/Romance (it’s why I adore Red Shoes so much; by the way, an anon asked for my opinion on that a while back and I will get to it! I’d need to watch it again to get screenshots) and my least favorite is probably Tragedy/Horror.

I don’t think I’ve watched enough to really be able to say? I’ve kind of been all over but I’ve never fully gone through any of them outside of Miraculous. I’ve seen bits of Sailor Moon, Tokyo Mew Mew, Star VS the Forces of Evil (don’t know if that counts), and I meant to watch Yuki Yuna is a Hero but never got around to it. I saw the entirety of Puella Magi Madoka Magica but you guys know how I feel about that one.

Maybe Cardcaptor Sakura by default then? It was definitely not perfect but I liked some of the character dynamics (I also have a clipcut of it - basically where I go through a series/movie and cut out parts I don’t like so it’s only good stuff - so I’m cheating a little) and the male love interest was a tsundere type that I actually ended up liking, which is really rare.

!!! That sounds sweet~ I know Sailor Moon is popular so I’ll definitely take your word for it on that one.

I would also accept a “reincarnated”/”destined lovers” trope if maybe the ship themselves are the one who set it up in the first place. I have a Lukanette AU, for example, where they basically got together and then prayed to the shrine of the renewal god that they’d “always be together,” which ended up allowing them to reincarnate over and over (as if they set up their own soulmate AU ;P) and continuously find each other.

Though I guess that’s not technically a “meant to be trope,” but still, it’s a form of it but where it was totally consensual on both sides.

Also, I finally thought of a show that ended with the ship I wanted: Gargoyles. I didn’t see the entire series, mind you, but I saw most of it and Goliath and Elisa were just... quality, I adored them.

+ With Beauty and the Beast being my favorite Disney movie, they fit right in with my tastes.

I forget that AangToph (I think the “official” name for the ship is Taang, but don’t quote me on that) exists sometimes, maybe because I’ve never shipped Aang with anyone; I’ve got no problems with the ship though.

Ugh, and this is what I mean when I talk about people who set up these reasons behind people shipping something based on what they saw a few people do. It’s like, “you only ship Adrimi/Lukanette to spite Adrienette!!”

Meanwhile, me having shipped all three at one point and then dropped off the love square.

Also, me shipping Zutara has nothing to do with it being dark/edgy because I’ve never seen it that way (intriguing, sure but dark and edgy? lol) and also avoid dark/edgy ships like the plague.

I still laugh at people who are like, “you can’t ship it because it’s not endgaaaaame!” as if shows can dictate how and why I enjoy something. Like sure, if you want to let a show/movie spoonfeed you how you’re supposed to feel, then by all means, go ahead.

I suppose people may be theoretically happier that way, but it doesn’t make for an analytic mind.

I legitimately thought that “AssClass” must’ve been the actual name for something until it registered with me what it actually meant.

And eh, I guess it depends on the comparison and how accurate the comparison actually is? Like, comparing Puella Magic Madoka Magica to Miraculous... they’re not really close at all, but comparing... idk, Bunnyx to Homura or the concept behind “backfiring wishes”... maybe?

-

(note that the rest of this post is more Puella Magi Madoka Magica salt so you can stop reading here if you’re not interested in that; I’m not sure if this is all the same anon but I don’t mind letting people vent so I let them go off~)

why can’t we just have nice things

I agree, and I give a little eyeroll every time it’s like, “oh, this person had [miraculous]”

+ even just in general, I feel weird about any show that mentions/implies that real world famous people are [x] or [y] in their show. It breaks my immersion; real world locations are one thing but when it’s specific people (unless they’re made up characters like Santa Claus) or games just--break me.

I also don’t know what to think when there aren’t magical boys but you have these magical girls in this frilly outfits/skirts. The demographic is girls so I presume the reason must be like, “you can look pretty and still beat people up” (;P) but having so many magical girl shows without a hint of a magical boy makes me suspicious that it’s for fanservice. Sailor Moon has Tuxedo Mask but I also don’t know what that guy did outside of the meme of him doing nothing so I’ve got no clue.

(edit: I should correct myself that I’m not talking about Sailor Moon specifically; I don’t know magical girls that well, though I do know there are ones clearly intended for fanservice (you could say that for anything, to be fair, but still). It’s just that I see things like super short skirts or very “questionable” shots and I’m just like, “hm”)

Hmmm, good question. I feel like there has to be a lot but I’m also the type who doesn’t watch a lot of TV lol. I’m just familiar with cliches and tropes and such.

The reason I try not to use “ism”s of any kind is mostly because it’s too broad. Like, you know how the English language only has one way of saying, “I love you,” but other languages like Spanish have multiple?

It’s like that, and sometimes I think it’s too easy to throw those words out there. A “small” (possibly completely unintentional/misunderstood) offense is sexism, and then a “large” offense is called the exact same thing. I’d rather go into why something is sexist than just call it that, y’know? The only exception I make is “classism” because I feel like that’s not as... I dunno, divisive?

Anyway, for that same reason, I can’t answer firmly that, “Madoka Magica is sexist.” I will however say that it makes me uncomfortable with how the show makes out the girls being emotional because they’re young and female and then proceeds to make their life a living hell before they’re old enough to properly answer to it (I know that’s the point but that kind of makes it worse?). It doesn’t help with how all the girls have different personalities, so it’s not like you have only “crybaby girls” who are being taken advantage of; it’s basically like... all girls.

Not helped is the fact that their soul gem not only deteriorates naturally, but it can also do so faster if the girl falls into despair, which then turns them into a monster (and I know it’s kind of like an akuma thing, but the fact that it’s only girls is... I dunno, it comes off wrong?). It seems cheap that the soul gem deteriorates no matter what so it constantly needs fed even if the girl is consistently happy.

I would probably opt for the show being centered more around Kyubey being new to this or something - like, magical girls are a new thing - and then have Kyubey being surprised because they presumed that the soul gem would deteriorate naturally since “emotions are powerful but destructive to the person having them,” but then all the girls team up and help each other work out their problems. Maybe the reason magical girls are usually alone isn’t even because of the grief seed (I think that’s what it’s called?) thing not being able to be shared, but because Kyubey intentionally separates magical girls so they can’t do what the main group is doing, but Madoka is so into the idea that, “We shouldn’t have to be alone,” and so she’s constantly pulling all the girls together, which keeps them healthy.

Maybe Homura’s backstory could be that Madoka originally was more sheepish and more afraid to put herself out there, especially since she was a magical girl (who are encouraged to go it alone), which is why their soul gems were both deteriorating; they were friends but kept more of a distance, or maybe they were a team but that’s all they were. Then Madoka gives Homura the last grief seed to save her and that’s what inspires Homura and makes her see Madoka as something more than a teammate, which is why Homura actively tries to save Madoka specifically (which then encourages Madoka to want to keep everyone together as friends).

In the case that Kyubey doesn’t separate them out of concern of fRiEnDsHiP, but for another reason altogether, and then it’s ultimately their own downfall when they allow the girls to hang out and realize that it’s doing a lot of good for them.

“cute and innocent”

That was exactly it. It’s on Kyubey’s trivia section on the Puella Magi Madoka Magica Wiki.

Before the anime's first dark plot twist aired, head writer Gen Urobuchi said on his Twitter account that the "Kyu" in Kyubey's name comes from the English word "cute". This was a lie meant to further mislead fans into thinking that Madoka Magica is an innocent happy show. In a later episode, it was revealed that "Kyubey" is, in fact, short for "incubator".

In my personal opinion, a spoiled plot can’t be “ruined” if it’s a good plot. If you told me that Kagome was trapped in the Modern era for three years and then decided to stay with Inuyasha at the end of Inuyasha, it wouldn’t/shouldn’t decrease the value when I finally see it for myself because it’s good. That’s not to say that everything should just be spoiled right out of the gate, but it’s saying that maybe your plot isn’t good if you have to rely on shock value to make it work??

I FEEL THAT “ASSIGNING IT TO THE WHOLE GENDER” THING SO BAD. It just adds to my “the girls all have varying personalities so it’s not like Kyubey’s only after emotional crybabies or anything” salt.

I have no idea about any of the stuff about the writers so I can’t confirm or deny them. I will very much agree on the target audience thing though, especially with the whole “keeping the dark plot a secret” because really? Who is this for then? Like, the first two and a half episodes are for one demographic and then the others are--???

I dunno. Me personally, I just like feel good stories. I do like some good conflict and drama (for context, Remarried Empress is basically a webtoon that gives you things to feel salty about and then makes its own salt fic as its plot, allowing for endless streams of feels and catharsis, so I’m definitely not against drama), but there are other times where I just want to feel good watching something.

I feel like the show expects the characters to be selfless/perfect and then punishes them even though it’s their writing that’s causing them to act out. I can’t really talking about “out-of-character” but sometimes it’s just obvious where “we did this because we needed a plot/conflict.”

Like, hello? We don’t need the main characters screwing up; why can’t we just have some feel good thing where they take the day for themselves (seriously, imagine a Miraculous episode where Chat Noir actually tells Ladybug to take a couple days for herself, like maybe someone else gets the earrings for a few days as a temp while Marinette gets to breathe; IMAGINE IT). Not everything needs to be high-stakes to be interesting and you need those calmer moments so that the action-packed ones feel more intense.

SAYAKA DESERVES BETTER.

I feel like the magical girl genre as a whole can be way more complex than it’s made out to be. I think people hear the word “magical girl” and think “cute girls in short skirts talk about girl problems and fight evil with the power of friendship and accessories.”

Ugh, just the mention of Rebellion makes me sigh internally.

Congrats on working on your own magical girl story! I hope it goes well for you!

I know it’s not technically a magical girl show, but there was also Totally Spies that Astruc worked on to some degree (I think there was some characters who were based on/a loose reference to the mains from that show but I don’t remember exactly).

The thing about the female characters suffering is that they could make for good lessons on positively directing one’s emotions (like Usagi from Sailor Moon, for example, maybe having a problem with taking her anger out on her friends, but learns that she can save that rage for the bad guys; “Gamer 2.0″ from Miraculous could’ve done that, honestly, by having Ladybug absolutely WRECK all of her gaming opponents in “violent” (cartoon violence obviously) fashion). It’s just a shame that it’s not taken advantage of.

Sayaka??? Selfish???????

*does not compute*

(Also, I wasn’t tired of them, don’t worry! It was a little overwhelming in my inbox but it’s me who’s allowing all the asks to flow in so the blame isn’t on you lol.)

I’m not sure where this obsession came from with, “you have to be selfless and you’re not allowed to use your powers for yourself.” It’s like the world’s going to end if a character leaves to go Self-Care or something. I think what happened is that shows got this idea that promoting only the giving of others is great and it’s not important to take time for yourself (even with “Gamer 2.0,” it was still Marinette playing games with everyone else, and they treated her dedication and seriousness like a bad thing when she literally did not have time to waste and they didn’t give a reason why it was good for her to take a break, only that she should).

This usually leads to the “demonization” of characters who sport a lot of self-confidence or any sort of ego. It works on both sides; Marinette is a punching bag because of her anxiety and occasional lack of confidence, but if she had an ego as Ladybug, there are parts of the fandom who deem her “obnoxious” (i.e: “Reflekdoll”). There’s a delicate balance between “be confident” and “be humble” and it’s a tightrope act.

[gleekto]

Summary: College AU/Famous!Blaine and Fanboy!Kurt - Kurt POV

Kurt really doesn’t have time to figure out the dating world between being a freshman at prestigious theatre school, LAADA,  and his active but secret blogging life in the Sing!Fandom. So what if Sing! ended last year? There are still fics to read and actors to follow. Especially the uber talented heartthrob lead, Blaine Anderson. He can act. He can sing. He can even dance. He’s gay. He’s out. And he’s only 24. Kurt is willing to twiddle his thumbs and click refresh until Blaine Anderson’s next project.

He just didn’t expect the next project to be on his roommate Rachel’s new TV show.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Even Better than the Real Thing (10/13)

Kurt drops the phone as his heart starts to race and panic takes over. He feels like he’s going to throw up. No. He doesn’t have time to throw up. He immediately signs on to tumblr and deletes his blog. Gone. But it’s too late anyways. He calls Mercedes on autopilot. 

“It’s over, Mercedes,” Kurt shakes as he says it. “He knows.”

“What? Who knows what?” But he can practically see the information dawn on her as she says it. “He knows you were a fan? Shit.”

“Yes, specifically, he knows that I was LimaBlaineFan - and I say was because I just deleted.”

“Oh my god, Kurt. How did this happen? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay. And I don’t know. Or I can guess. He surprise visited me and I forgot to close my laptop screen and I must have left him in my room while I was dealing with Rachel and her oat milk,” Kurt puts the pieces together. “Fucking oat milk.”

“So he ended it on the spot?”

“No. God. He didn’t even say anything. He must have  seen something but not much, gone home and read the blog, and then texted me 24 hours later with a terse goodbye.”

“So what did he say?” Kurt sends her the text. “It’s not great,” She agrees. “But that’s not exactly closure.”

“I don’t think I get closure after what I did. Just memories of our night together and of what an idiot I am.” Kurt goes over the whole story with Mercedes - how he obviously wanted to be chill when he met Blaine, didn’t want to seem like a desperate fanboy but just a friend of Rachel’s - which he is! That wasn’t a lie. And he always made sure to give Blaine an out, not to talk too much, but Blaine kept wanting to talk and flirt and - well, as soon as he really started to believe that they were more than friendly acquaintances with a mutual friend, he stopped blogging. But it was too late by that point to say ‘Oh by the way, I was such a big fan of Sing! that I have a blog about it and your name may feature.’ But he knows it’s all an excuse. Blaine told him the first time they met that a fan is not a friend. And he didn’t heed the warning. Or tell the truth.

Mercedes listens to the story she already knows, and affirms and agrees, but unfortunately, can’t really fix a situation that can’t be fixed. Kurt spends the night staring at his ceiling and the next day moping around the house, tired and cranky. He binges Gossip Girl and eats popcorn and texts Mercedes sad face emojis.

Even Rachel notices that something’s wrong when she comes in that evening.  “You’re still in pajamas?” She looks at him quizzically. “And you look like hell.”

“Thanks?”

“And I only point that out because it’s very unlike you.”

“I guess that is actually a compliment.”

“What’s wrong?” Before he thinks of what he’s going to say, Rachel interrupts again. “Wait. Blaine was a wreck today - bags under his eyes, forgot all his lines. Just said he had a rough night. Okay, Kurt. What is going on with you two?”

“Nothing now.”

“Now?”

“It’s not working out, okay?” Rachel starts to say something again but thinks better of it.

“Okay,” She seems to clue in to the fact that he does not want to talk about it. “I’ll go out later to get you a piece of cheesecake from Henry’s.” His favourite cheesecake place. 

“Thank you,” He says sincerely. “Best therapy.”

...

After his cheesecake, which did take his mind off the mess of his life for at least 15 minutes, he moves back to his bedroom for night two of ceiling gazing, when his phone buzzes.

Blaine: So you didn’t respond.

He stares at the message, willing the right response to come to him.

Kurt: I honestly just don’t know what to say. Other than I’m sorry. I guess that’s what I should have said.

Blaine: So you are LimaBlaineFan, right?

Kurt: Guilty. Very guilty.

Blaine: Shit.

Kurt: I know we’re done - it’s my fault. You don’t need to say anything.

Kurt can’t actually bear the idea of Blaine lecturing him on honesty amidst crushing his heart.

Blaine: It is your fault. But we should talk.

Kurt: We should?

Blaine: Meet me at the Coffee Bean tomorrow at 3, okay?

Kurt: Let me check my calendar.

Blaine: Cheeky.

Kurt knows he made him smile despite himself.

Kurt: I’ll be there.

...

Kurt gets to the Coffee Bean half an hour early so he can be sure to be there first. He buys Blaine his favourite medium drip and adds a vanilla almond biscotti. 

“These for me?” Blaine says as he sits down across from Kurt.

“The least I could do.” Blaine rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but he accepts the coffee and cookie. “I’m really sorry. I should have told you.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Blaine says and pauses, sipping his coffee. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Kurt starts.

Blaine shrugs. “Go for it.”

“Why did you ask me to meet you for coffee? I mean, after finding out the guy you just -” Kurt gets red despite himself.

“Got naked with,” Blaine fills in.

“Yes - was actually a fan following your career-”

“And my body parts,” Blaine adds and Kurt gets much redder.

“I mean, I think that gives you license to fully ghost me without another word.”

“True,” Blaine nods his head. “But for one, you are my co-star’s roommate-”

“At least that’s true,” Kurt sighs at himself.

“Also, I’m not an asshole.”

“But I probably gave you reason to think that I am one.”

“No - which is the real reason I wanted to talk. The timeline.” Kurt looks at him confused. “Your blog on tumblr. It seems like once we met, you only blogged a few times. And by the time I was interested in you, you stopped posting.”

Kurt nods, giving himself an internal high five for at least one decent choice. “I did. Right after we-”

“Made out all night?” Blaine has got to stop putting these images back into his head in the midst of a break up conversation.

“No. It was before that. After you  - you know we talked in my room-”

Blaine remembers, smiling.  “When I got you to tell me you had never been kissed so I could tell you that you should be.”

“You’re so calculating,” Kurt shakes his head.

Blaine raises his hands in defense. “My intentions were pure, I promise. Besides, I could say the same about you.”

“I wasn’t calculating! I wasn’t even trying to be your friend, let alone your, you know. I am definitely not sophisticated enough to try to deceive you to get you into bed, god. I was just trying to seem reasonably normal and cool around my roommate’s new co-star who by complete coincidence was my celebrity crush of the last four years. It was way too uncool to reveal my alter ego to you.”

Blaine smiles, probably despite himself. “Can I tell you some of my favourites?”

“Oh god.”

It seems Blaine spent the better part of his evening delving deeply into the fandom mind of LimaBlaineFan, because he had screencapped some of Kurt’s oldest, and cringiest posts.

-Why isn’t he shirtless in that scene? The other guys are shirtless. Roy is hot. And no, I don’t think he’s embarrassed. 

“Well, you are right about that. I’m not camera shy.” 

-Thank God Blaine Anderson has a better fashion sense than Roy. Roy and his loose jeans and sweatpants - how would I even catch a glimpse? But did you see Blaine on that red carpet? Maroon suit, pants so tight. His ass is perfection.

-Blaine’s interview for Pride was perfection. He says we might even catch him out on the dance floors, dancing with some hotties. Maybe then he’ll be shirtless.

And of course, Blaine appreciated Kurt’s hard work on one of his most recent posts - The privileges and pitfalls of playing straight for an out gay actor: Quotes from Blaine Anderson’s interviews.

Kurt lets Blaine read each one, sitting silent in embarrassment and biting his lip through it all. It’s the least he deserves. Just as Blaine finishes his list and Kurt is about to go into profuse apology once again,  they’re interrupted.

A young woman who looks about seventeen scurries quickly up to their table. “Hi. I’m sorry. I know you’re busy. I’m just such a huge fan of Sing! And now That’s So Rachel-” - If that was a fan test, she passed. She knows both shows. That’s a minimum. “Can I get a pic with you?”

“Of course. Thank you so much for watching.” Blaine takes her phone like a pro and angles it so he and the girl are both in it, Kurt trying to avoid being the photobomb in the background. Blaine turns back to him as the girl leaves. 

“I guess that would’ve been me a few months ago.”

“For you, I might have even given a hug. Or the coveted kiss on the cheek. I always try to connect with the gay guy fans.”

“You succeeded?” Kurt tries and Blaine laughs. At least the energy between them is better. Much better. Like he won’t have to hide in a corner if he’s ever at an event with Blaine again or anything like that.

“I guess I did.”

“The first time I met you, you told me that a fan is not a friend.”

“I did.”

“Would you have asked me out if you had known from the beginning?”

“Probably not. Against the rules.”

“That’s what I thought.” There’s an awkward pause - Kurt’s not sure there’s anything else to say and apparently Blaine agrees because he switches the topic to the latest script and his excitement about working with Patti Lupone - who apparently, even gets to slap him. By the time they leave the café, Kurt feels relieved. He’s survived his first break up. Not that they were really together. He doesn’t have the energy to grieve the loss of kissing, and touching, and ironically still not having seen Blaine shirtless (pantless, yes). He’s sure it will hit him like a ton of bricks after he finally gets a real night of sleep, and then he will have Rachel prepare the cheesecake. Again. 

He crawls into bed early that night, grateful the shock and awful adrenaline of the last two days has finally left his body. His phone buzzes as he closes his light and he plans to text Mercedes back to tell her he’ll update her tomorrow. But it’s not Mercedes.

Blaine: Some rules are made to be broken.

[dear-yandere]

—ask collection!

a collection of mostly very old chats and sweet asks that i never got around to answering! thanks for the patience and love!! 

beware, fairly long post... woops....

chat asks.

darling: Eu-jin is best boy. Change my mind.

vanya: i am physically incapable of fulfilling that request, how dare you do that to me... i’m biased since he’s my own oc, but i would die for my (very best) boy eu-jin... who can resist such a gentle yandere that loves you so whole-heartedly?

that reminds me! he’s actually based off of kuroyuki and gekkamaru from the otome nightshade, so if you want similar characters by any chance, do check them and the game out ♡

darling: I was watching the dub for Part 5 of JoJo's Bizarre adventure yesterday...Mista called himself Daddy and I like- sdfghjfgsdhnhnmj!! My heart can't take this--

vanya: WAIT HE DID???? i’m not even big on daddy kink and reading that made me go 😳 this is vital information to know... what episode was this??? for research purposes, of course. gotta perfect my yan! mista, after all~...

darling: for yandere songs, have you heard of the major to minor covers by chase holfelder :O? the way he delivers the lyrics in some songs (betty, all i want for christmas), added with the key changes to minor, is really fantastic, and gives a stalker-ish vibe imo! and he's a really good singer in general

vanya: i have!! a good chunk of them are actually on my personal yandere playlist, so i end up hearing them frequently when i’m writing!! i haven’t been keeping up with his uploads recently, so ‘betty’ is completely new to me and just, wow???????????? this man is an absolute god send for us “romantic” horror fans... ♡

this ask gave me such a lovely idea, though, darling: assigning yandere types/mbti based off each of chase’s minor key covers. i think i’ll do that just for you. ♡

darling @blossomiich​: I reread some of your old character interaction asks and saw the one with Jotaro hugging his Darling after a panic attack and the elephant seal plush reminded me of the iconic C H O N K Y ringed seal plushie that was kinda trending and I can totally imagine Jotaro having one of those >w< that's so adorable!

vanya: i honestly don’t remember that interaction, but then again i don’t remember most things hmghng so i looked it up and

j...just imagine star plat hogging it and not letting joot cuddle with it 🥺 the duality of man...thank you for this cute image...

darling: Umm, sorry for asking this. I'm just curious because of your bio language in your header. Are you Chinese too, perhaps?

vanya: no worries!! i’m mixed guyanese (indian, chinese, & possibly black and/or portuguese), but my family only celebrates (or rather, acknowledges?) our indian descent, since the majority of our family is predominantly east indian. 

my header is actually a quote from a danmei novel (and one of my all-time favorite fandoms), tiān guān cì fú (heaven’s official blessing)!

darling genki stan anon: Omg you're writing for free now, i didn't expect that one lol. It's a cute show innit? Not a nagi stan but I feel like nagisa has that kinda unsnapped personality that would make him peak delusional yandere material lolol like oikawa but less threatening and without his head being up his own ass 😂. Hope you're doing well!! -gsa

Gdjsjs im such a fool, i think my last ask said something about not thinking you'd write for free when i literally just pointed out kisumi on your sideblog LMAO my bad 😅 😂 also ill hold back on the gen chan requests because ive already asked so many in the past! Thank you though 🥺. Also feel free not to post this, it can just dip into my onesided chats with my lil flower 💐 so long as you receive them im fine 😌 -genki stan anon

vanya: nagisa isn’t my favorite (kisumi is), but gods if he wouldn’t make a great yandere. honestly, out of the iwatobi boys, nagi is probably the most unhinged. i wouldn’t peg him as delusional, at least not at first; i think he’s very lucid and knows exactly what he wants and how to manipulate people in order to get it!!! kisumi is fairly similar now that i think about it... i might... have a type...

please feel free to send in gen-chan requests whenever you want!!!! i’m kinda super asocial, so it’ll take me a while to answer, but i love getting asks from you since you’re so sweet and excitable!!! your little flower reads and cherishes them all!! 🥺

also darling genki stan anon: Sorry for spamming you with asks hdjkdks, u dont even need to reply im just kinda brain empty venting here whether you recieve them or not 😂 i just needed to confess that while yes i am #1 gen simp, and he is undoubtedly my fave oc of yours but that Ilya tentacle smut had me very much so highkey kinda 👀, had to re read the genki oral style drabble to bring my head back. He dont even need to worry about luca bc that man a thot. I think therin is a thot too but like lowkey, a classy thót -gsa

vanya: omg i’ve kept this one for forever mnmghngh i might’ve even answered at some other point, now that i think about it... but i just 🥺 gosh i hope i find my muse soon, because i really wanna write you a genki fic 🥺 hhhh

the ilya tentacle smut was so in character for that boy... i have no clue how to write monsters, much less tentacles, but i’d honestly do anything for him 🙏 kinky russian boy...

therin is definitely a classy thot, the kind that only bangs the finest concubines then turns around and slut shames you for banging the very same prostitutes gbfmngnfg rules don’t apply to him, in his kingdom...wish that were me tbh ✊😔

sweet asks.

darling one: i've read almost all of your dazai and chuuya fics and i love them so much!! your formatting is also super aesthetic just a question, i saw on your kofi that you also draw so i was wondering if you drew all the header arts?? bc they're all super pretty :) have a great day!

darling two: Just wanted to say love the writing and the way your format your posts is so aesthetically pleasing. One day I hope my posts looks half as good as yours because I legit can't get over how pretty and organized it looks.

vanya: omg thank you so much!!!! one of my bffs, yue, is to thank for the formatting and aesthetic choices, really! if you wanna see more of her aesthetic formats and posts, she actually runs a few blogs! you may know her as @milkscafe​, formally @milkaaton! i adore her and her aes choices so much 🥺

as for the headers, i don’t draw 99.98% of them! i have drawn a couple, but they’re so few and far in between since i almost never finish my art wips haha... my older posts are lacking proper credits because i’m an absolute idiot, but i’m slowly working my way backwards to credit them all where possible! they’re all indeed super pretty!!!

have a great day yourself, my love!!

darling: THEY’RE NOT BAD CONTENT, I LOVE THEM ALL

vanya: this was in response to a now-deleted lil blurb but i kept it in my inbox because i wanted to say i love u very much and seeing this ask each time i open my inbox makes my heart skip a beat ♡

darling: Listen I love your writing, you inspired me to start it myself! I've always loved to write, and read of course but your style and concepts just stick with me. If you where to write something besides Yandere content/fandom content and started your own series? I would read the shit, out of it. I'm always nervous to interact with my favorite writers because you know, I'm afraid of the impression I'd leave but I just wanted to say this anyway! 💞💞💞🔫😳

vanya: wowowow fgfnmgnfmngfg that’s such a high compliment my brain just gmfnbgmnf go boom fogjfngnfg and thank you for the interaction, us writers truly appreciate it no matter how awkward or nervous you think you may be / come off!!!

darling one: As a writer, your post struck a nerve with me. I don’t send feedback to writers I like nearly as much as I should (and certainly not as much as I’d like in return as a writer). So, as such, I’m going to start doing that when I can, starting with you.

You are an incredible writer. You were one of the first yandere writing blogs I found and you’re still one I check in on regularly to see what you have been working on. You can portray a sense of suspense and intrigue in a natural way that many other writers - published ones included - struggle with. You delve into the darkness without it feeling forced, and you have an amazing grasp on the psyches of the characters you write for (which is a quality I adore in writing and strive toward myself).

I’m not great at ending these things so I guess.. you keep doing you? Because the you is great and I appreciate it.

darling two:  hey. i'm here to tell you that from the bottom of my heart i love you and your writings. i really admire your writing skills. you inspire me. one of your posts once saved me from a nervous breakdown. thank you for everything you do. you're a wonderful person. good luck!

darling three: I wanted to tell you that thank you for writing such wonderful beautiful writings and that you take time to edit and write I hope you are taking care of yourself 💖❤

darling four: Thanks. I was having a hard time and deleted all my apps, but as soon as i opened my phone my first instinct was to look at your blog and i got my motivation back. Thanks (:

darling five: Hi ! I just wanted to say I really enjoy the stories you write and how they are detailed so well ! Stay safe and I hope you have a good day/night ! ლ(╹◡╹ლ)

vanya: ahhhh, these are very old asks mostly dating back to my “tumblr writing community is dying” post, and i’ve kept them this entire time because i’m just so starstruck. i have no clue how to reply to compliments, so i’m not sure what else to say besides that these asks made me very happy and got me through a few insecure moments!!! i’ve actually been feeling a little down about my writing recently, mostly because of lack of motivation / inspiration, so revisiting these really warmed my heart, so thank you truly ♡ i’m certainly keeping the originals in my inbox until the end of time!!

darling @monstrously-obsessed: psst, this local cryptic mom thing send all of their love for you 💕

vanya: your local herbo says she loves you very much momster 🥺 mwah

also, to the anon worried about my safety:

thank you so much for pointing that out!!! it hadn’t even crossed my mind when i made those ocs, so i appreciate your concern! i was contemplating revamping those two as is, so this is a great place to start! thank you again!!

[youngbugandtonystank]

genuine request, can you please stop putting your "harley isn't tony’s kid" asks/posts in harley's tag? it really kills the mood seeing negative/patronizing posts like that 🤧 you're entitled to your own opinion as to how you interpret tony and harley's dynamic in im3, but some of your posts are kind of needlessly rude and might suit an anti tag better? just a thought/request, do with it what you will 🤧

lmao

What are you on about? 

I have a total of 12 posts about Harley in my blog, and none of them are negative or patronizing at all. Analyzing a character and giving an honest opinion is patronizing for yall now? And I don’t post about him on a daily basis so I don’t get how it kills the mood if the majority of the posts in the tag aren’t mine.

As a matter of fact, messages like this one are the reason I keep track of what I write and do in the blog. 

Me defending Harley and Peter’s age for dating.

Some of you sending me Peter hate to put Harley up. (and trust me, this is not the first ask someone sends me an ask where they crap on Peter to lift Harley up, the fact that I block and delete a lot should give you a clue; something that it’s TIRING too)

This is literally my post in case someone forgot.

My post as well. 

Two of those posts are from 3 years ago. 

Every time someone asks about him, I always make sure to add this; ‘they could’ve been a father-son duo with Tony but Marvel didn’t develop that relationship’ making sure everyone understands that I’m talking about the franchise/writing choices in general, not crapping on the character and then I proceed to explain that not everything is a competition. Every. single. time.

The posts I can think of are two. TWO. LMAO the first one because an anon said it was offensive to them (I don’t know why because it’s only a meme, not something serious) 

Meme.

And this one. Where someone is asking me to explain the difference in the relationships between Tony and the kids, I didn’t do it with the intention of crapping on Harley, I was explaining what really was happening in the movies and doing an analysis/meta of it. I wasn’t going to lie and pull something out of my ass, I was honest with it. It was a movie meta, not a personal attack. I always say the same thing about Nebula (some people consider her as Tony’s daughter) and the other science kids (people see them as Tony’s kids as well in a headcanon way). And I posted that almost TWO years ago. Is the Harley tag that empty that only my posts are showing up? I highly doubt it, I know you guys love this kid, it must be filled with content about him. Good content about him. 

I don’t want to be mean, everyone who knows this blog knows that I always try to be polite but some of you need to grow up. That post was a meme. And as I already explained before, that same meme has a lot of variations, where neither Peter nor Harley are considered Tony’s kids, only Morgan. This is something fun to do, something to laugh at. Not a competition. You guys feel like it’s a competition and that comes from you, not me. I’m always honest with my opinions and I always make sure to give credit when it’s due. Like saying that Harley forms part of Tony’s legacy just like Morgan and Peter. 

All of this is from me:

‘I firmly believe that if Disney and Sony didn’t reach a deal back then, Harley would’ve been Tony’s protege instead of Peter.’

‘Harley was very important to Tony’s character development. He helped Tony during a very difficult time of his life and got him back on his feet when he was having a panic attack. He really helped Tony a lot and Tony is always going to appreciate that and who knows, maybe we get to see if Tony left something for Harley in the next phase.’

‘The MCU never used Ty Simpkins (Harley Keener) again after 2013, he has never been mentioned once since that movie, they could’ve at least mentioned him or imply that Tony kept contact with him.’

‘Like I’ve said before, I don’t ship them, I see them more like brothers’

‘Now, even if this is the case, that doesn’t mean that the relationship couldn’t have progressed to something more have they given them more time but unfortunately, they decided to kill Tony.’

So no. I’m tired of this. It’s impossible that only my posts are showing up in the Harley tag. Wanna know what I think it’s happening? Someone is reblogging my content and it’s showing up in YOUR dashboard (And I can’t control whatever shows up in your dashboard, I’m not part of the staff team) Are you really going to tell me the Harley Keener tag is so empty that my posts are the only ones there? You guys are going to have to let me have opinions and suck it up. It’s not ‘anti’ anything because I’m not against Harley at all. 

Block me. Just a thought/request, do with it what you will. 

[mackdizzy]

hey brother, do you still believe in one another?

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21667843

Fandom: GRAVITY FALLS

Pairings: Stan and Ford (NON-ROMANTIC/NON-INCESTUAL)

Rating: T

Warnings: Eye Trauma/Horror, (Nothing too graphic!) Mental Trauma/PTSD (On Ford’s part,)//brief Bill mentions, etc. 

Summary:  intergalactic bounty-hunter AU. 8 pages of teeth rotting stan twins hurt-comfort, because I need nothing more in this world, apparently.

A/N: My first published one-shot, after I've done a lot of publishing and deleting; I think I'll keep this one up for good, though, I'm quite proud of it. Inspired by an rp I'm hashing out with @lemonpie , the entire love of my life. Also dedicated to those on the Fandom Fields discord server. You guys have made my week, seriously.

AU that Probably Has A Name But I Don't Know It in which when Mullet!Stan came back to see Paranoid!Ford, instead of fighting like idiots they made up, got Ford better, and are now intergalactic, multidimensional bounty hunters who love eachother a lot and care about eachother a lot.

It's pretty simple, guys. 8 pages of fluff because my poor little heart needs it.

First things first: shoes off. Ford hates the dirt.

It was surprisingly early when they returned to the room; barely breaching 4 in the afternoon. Apart from the trouble of finding a place to stay (you thought hotels were hard to find in your own dimension?), Stan and Ford usually stayed out late enough anyway. There was evidence to gather, there were clues to collect, there were people to bring to safety; all of this denouncing the fact that there was usually also something to kill, of course.

It had been almost a year since they’d completed the portal and left that old house behind. Not left it behind for good, per say; they would come back every now and then to drop off old gear and pick up new stuff, make sure nothing bad had gotten in when they were away--sometimes they just needed a break from all of….this. But not always, not usually. Breaks were appreciated, but the work was exciting, dutiful, and never-ending. Breaks were best (and usually) taken at moments like these, when they had the time to spare; him fixing the weapons, Ford poured over one of his journals or a book he managed to find, both of them hashing over what they were going to do tomorrow over cheap interdimensional food (strawberry waffles tasted good in any multiverse, his brother would always insist).

The routine wasn’t always as straightforward as that, but nothing the two of them did would ever really be considered straightforward. There were bumps in the road; there had been bumps in the road all year, really, but after the first week in that house “alone” with his brother, that was sort of to be expected. They did what was natural; they worked them out. Because that’s what family did, and because there was nothing he’d rather have done.

Currently they were located--precisely, he noted, pulling out the pocket compass-- at -36.85271, -68.54629, 1.56. If they were back at Ground Zero, he’d note them somewhere in South America (Argentina, maybe, or Chile). Here in the moonshine dimension (which apparently had nothing to do with liquor, despite the fact that he felt drunk every time he looked out the window), the cliffsides remained, but that was about all; the grass was magenta and the sky was a deep purpley color, and the stars saturated the sky so richly, 24/7, that they were almost blinding. Stan would’ve been happy to sit by the windowsill and stare all night, but they had work to do---and besides, they never left the windows open.

Normally, they found absolutely any living space that felt hospitable and plopped down for the night--they were the opposite of picky--but after a couple of rough nights in a particularly rough part of the southern woods, he was delighted to hear Ford say matter-of-factly that he had connections in the mountains, and that’s where they were headed. They’d spent the entire morning traveling, and 4 hoverbuses in plus a lot of hiking later, he’d made the executive decision to check them in and call it a day. Unconfronted yet with the roofwalker who owned the place, someone who Ford had said it would be crucial to talk to, they’d checked themselves in nonetheless and taken the elevator up 38 stories to the bedroom arrangement.

Kitchenette in the corner, desk and 2 chairs, television, bookshelf (empty). Attached bathroom and bedroom--another TV, 2 chests of drawers. And 2 beds. They were always given 2 beds, and they always started out arranging themselves across both, and yet both beds were never actually slept in.

Still: shoes off first, because Ford hated the dirt. He unlaced his boots and threw them casually by the door, hoping that wouldn’t annoy his brother too much. What happened next was calculated routine. He took the window bed, threw his massive bag down. Crossed to the window, locked it, pulled the shades tight, wrapped the cord around the lock to keep them shut. Repeated the process with the window in the sitting room. Moved to the door, locked it tight, pulled the door bolt. Checked the lock on the bathroom and then checked all four locks again, just for safety measures. Next he spot-checked the room, corner to corner; their reputation wasn’t massive, but it was still slightly dangerous, so every inch was scrubbed for cameras, bugs, and any geometrically-suspicious looking artwork. Finally, lights on, buzzing radiator off, windows weatherstripped for sound prevention, tea on the kettle.

Ford never really watched him do any of this; it was more of a safety-net set of activities than anything. Ford didn’t stare at the windows so much if he knew he’d locked them, didn’t direct so much erratic attention to the corners if he knew they’d been checked. So once everything was underway, tea included, he made his way into the bedroom, to find Ford cross-legged on his bed, poured over one of his journals, referring to the other two and a general mass of paper around him as he scribbled. Stan leaned on the doorframe and raised an eyebrow, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“Ford, what are the beds for?” He tried not to sound too naggy, but he knew Ford’s sleep habits improved significantly if he wasn’t doing most of his work in the same place. He’d read that on a travel blog somewhere ...he thinks.

“You’re not my mother, Stan.” Ford grumbled in return, but it was half-hearted, and he stood anyway, gathering the paper in a messy armful and carrying it to the desk anyway. Stan took the chance to stand behind his brother and peer over his shoulder, where his loops of neat script had begun filling the newest blank page of the journal.

“Shapeshifters, huh?” He noted, fingers drumming against the back of Ford’s chair. They’d only dealt with shapeshifters once or twice--most of them were nasty, selfish creatures, the conscientious ones interested only in self preservation. With such little regard for the species, he wondered how they populated, but he supposed that could be said for some lines of human lineage as well.

“I believe that is what we’re working with, yes. With all we’ve encountered, I’ve yet to do an official entry.”

He leaned further against the hard-backed chair Ford was situated in, squinting his eyes at his handwriting. His dyslexia had never made it easy to read any of the perfect, neat script Ford had started writing in around age eleven. He did really like the drawings, though; his brother was an amazing artist, something they’d never really known about until he’d started drawing the things they encountered. He let himself stare a bit and wonder at the ways Ford was even able to make something with no defined shape come alive on the page, and all his little frantic scribbles; messy with excitement, not panic. It was a nice sight, but Ford kept stopping to---well, at first he thought he was just brushing away his hair or fixing his glasses, but the 7th or 8th time in about two minutes, it finally set in.

“Hey, hey.” He said gently, nudging Ford’s shoulder. “Your eye ok?”

“Fine.” Came the simple response, which was Ford-speak for No, but I’m totally busy doing my nerd shit and don’t want to be bothered.

Still, Stan could be good for one thing, and it was this. “Let me see.” He sounded slightly naggy again, and Ford rolled his eyes at the ceiling, but some things couldn’t be helped, and he was grateful it worked when Ford spun awkwardly around in the seat and gave him a fixated stare.

“It’s swollen.” Stan said under his breath before even really getting a good look at it, because it was. Pretty red, too. “Look at my finger.” He said, directing his brother’s eye around. Motion was good, that was a start.

“Is it bleeding?” Ford asked, and the sad, wounded little tint in his voice might have been enough for him to lie about it if it was (as if he could ever lie to Ford), but luckily, it wasn’t. “No.” He said, gently. “It’s red, though.” And then he grabbed the chair from the desk across from the room and sat across from Ford, placing his hands on his lap, and Ford rolled his eyes and went to face the journal, but Stan pawed at his arm, infuriated, so he eventually turned around to face him.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Ford mumbled, averting both eyes. “Stan, I’d really like to get back to m--”

“Ford.” Just the slightest edge tinted his voice.

“It’s not fair!” Ford shot back, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Stan could tell he was starting to get a little worked up, and he tilted his head, half in curiosity, half in concern. “It’s not fair that I have to be the one with a---full blown facial anxiety tracker!”

“You know I would’ve noticed anyway.” His voice tried to be gentle, not all-knowing or condescending, and the sentiment was enough to get Ford to crack a smile (albeit a wounded one), which was all he needed, really.

“It’s also quite unfair how you notice everything, Stanley.”

And that got him to laugh, and then he extended a hand and Ford took it. He stroked his thumb along the backside of Ford’s hand and he felt all six of his fingers relax in his grasp, and once they were both pretty calm, he tried again.

“What’s up?”

This time around there was more honesty. Ford looked at his hands for a moment before shutting his eyes tight, taking a shaky breath. When he spoke, it was very quiet. “Haven’t been sleeping.”

“Really? You’ve seemed pretty restful to me.” Inside he’s cursing himself, though, guilt overflooding him. He should’ve been paying more attention, but Ford hadn’t asked, hadn’t brought this up, and he never wanted to seem too pressing. Still, Ford was right, he did notice everything, or at least...he was supposed to.

“Yes, well, my body’s alright, but my mind---haven’t been dreaming right, keep going to the mindscape, I’m stuck, stuck with---with---stuck with-”

“Alright, alright.” He gave Ford’s hand a little squeeze, stopped him before he had to say it out loud. “That’s what I’m here for. Do you ...do you think it’s real?” He had to admit, the thought dried up his throat a little bit. What he’d seen was pale in comparison to what he’d heard from Ford, but the scars didn’t lie, and neither did his own haunting memories of that twisted, inhumane laugh coming from Ford’s lips.

“...No.” Ford replied, but it was hesitant, and it took a moment. “No.” He said again, more resolutely. “Just--just me in my head. It’s getting worse, though, it’s not real REM.”

“How long has it been like this?”

“About two weeks?”

“Ford.” He groaned, his hand covering his eyes, another sharp wave of guilt consuming him. “Jesus Christ. Two weeks? Why didn’t you tell me, Ford?”

“You always worry so much.”

“That’s my job, doofus.”

Ford didn’t say anything in response to that, so he stood, stretching his arms above his head, and yawned, throwing his coat onto his bed. “Alright. Executive decision. Showers and then we’re sleeping. That--” He pointed to whichever journal that was-- “Can wait for the morning.”

Ford’s eyes turned to the clock. “Stan, it’s barely 5.”

“Yeah, well, it’s 2 o’clock somewhere.” He yawned again, and this time Ford caught on and yawned back, flipping him off (with two fingers as per usual) lazily for making him catch it. He laughed, and Ford stood and sluggishly made his way towards the bathroom.

“Want me to come?”

“No, it’s alright. Thank you, though.”

He nodded and made his way into the bathroom off the sitting room, taking the tea off the kettle for when they were both out. Once he was done he fetched it and poured two glasses, making his way into the bedroom to see if Ford was done yet. He wasn’t, but he’d been expecting that, so he set both of the cups on the desk, set on his own bed, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He’d gotten quite good at just waiting--sorting through his thoughts, and though Ford was the list-maker, planning; these days, boredom was nonexistent, any downtime was appreciated. But he did start to worry slightly when 45 minutes later Ford was still in the bathroom, and he was about to go knock on the door when he heard a scream.

Ford’s scream.

He grabbed the gun out of his holster, changed the setting on it to the most powerful stun setting; not enough to knock Ford dead, but if something was in his body that shouldn’t be there, it would be enough to get it out. He’d had to use it twice before, and neither time had been pretty, so he hoped Ford was in control enough for it not to be necessary.

The bathroom door was locked, but that wasn’t a problem. He considered getting the lock kit from his bag, but hearing another scream was enough for him to discard that idea; he kicked at the hinge-points to loosen everything and then shouldered it hard enough to unlodge the lock before kicking it open the rest of the way. Hotel doors were always shit, no matter the dimension.

There was blood all over the counter, and it stained in the shower as well. Ice filled his veins and he could almost feel his breath stop, but Ford was still alive, still in there, needing him. One hand on the gun he pushed the shower open with the other, shoulders trembling. “Ford?” He said, concern in his voice, but a slight edge too; a warning, to anyone else.

Ford (Ford’s body?) was huddled in the corner, arms tight around his shoulders, his whole body trembling. Since he was undressed, it was easy to scan for the blood, and he was at least a little relieved to see that it was all coming from his eye--better for no blood at all, of course, but no self-decimation had occurred, and since that was usually Bill’s first step, it meant if there was possession, he was fighting it.

“Ford? Ford, are you with me?” He got down on his knees and reached out, safety out the window in lieu of his desperation to make things right, make things okay. Ford met his eyes, and another wave of relief--those eyes were so unmistakably his brothers, large and brown and mousy and right now they looked terrified, the left filled with tears, the right pouring blood. Those were Ford’s eyes, not anyone or anything else’s; so what mattered now was assistance, not violence, and he re-sheathed the gun, holding out both hands.

“Stan--Stan--” Ford gripped his sleeves and held on tight, tugging aimlessly, and he moved in closer, pulling his brother to his chest. It relieved him once again to see Ford clinging on; it meant he was processing things, he was still here, still recognizing him. “Stan, he’s--he’s coming, wants in, been too long without, Stan he’s angry, make me pay he wants me to pay Stan, I’m not safe you’re not safe watching, he’s watching, he’s--he’s--”

“Alright, Alright, Shh, shh--” There was blood in Ford’s hair from where he grabbed at it, blood on both hands, blood smeared on his face, and Stan just wanted to take him in his arms and gather him all up and make everything better for him. He held him close against his chest and whispered things into his hair as he ran his hands through it, down his back; useless, pitiful reassurances, I’m here, it’s okay, he’s not real, I’m real, you’re safe, until Ford’s racing mind finally gave out and he collapsed flat against his chest, head by his heartbeat, silent, still.

“There we go.” He soothed softly, tilting Ford’s chin up. “Whatever your head’s been givin’ you for the past two weeks, it’s bullshit. It doesn’t matter. I matter, and I’m right here.” Ford was soft like putty in his arms in a way that showed he trusted him, which of course meant the world to Stan after everything. Ford’s eyes met his solidly for a moment and he very briefly smiled but then he was out again, somewhere baseless and mindless, just breathing softly against his chest, the fingers on his left hand twitching gently against his leg. He stepped back just for a moment and turned the shower setting into the bath setting, laying Ford back in the tub with his head propped against the rim.

At that point he stepped out, getting a bundle of fresh towels from under the counter. He grabbed a couple of the mouthwash glasses (so as not to get blood in the tub) and used them with the water and shitty hotel soap from the tub to clean off Ford’s hands and face, taking his time and never stopping that soft mumbling, that soft reassuring Ford that he was safe, would be safe so long as he was here with him, and he was so brave and smart and strong, and that he could tell him anything at all, any time.

Eventually he set the soap down and doused the washcloth in water a few times, but he couldn’t even reach Ford’s eye before he felt six slim fingers close around his wrist. Gently he pulled back and caught Ford’s eyes, soft, and his smile, gentle.

“Hey.” Stan spoke, his voice barely audible above the dull running of the bathwater, beginning to work on Ford’s eye. His brother had since let go of his hand to let him work, but Stan had met his grasp with the other one, and rubbed his fingers alongside the back of Ford’s hand for the next few minutes as he worked to get him cleaned up, keeping his handiwork as gentle as possible. “You feelin’ okay?”

“Mmm.” Came Ford’s only response, half-cognisant, and he chuckled back, wringing out the last of the washcloths before brushing Ford’s messy curls away from his eyes.

“Alright, Brainiac. How about we hit the sack? I’m making sure you actually sleep tonight, idiot.” Ford nodded, half playfully half sleepily, and he stood, turned off the water, picked Ford up bridal style like he weighed nothing; he grumbled softly and fussed at first, and Stan was about to put him down when his brother apparently changed his mind, resting his head back against his chest. He set Ford down on his bed, and it only took a minute before he was sitting up, rubbing at his (good) eye sleepily. They both changed for bed, Ford climbing under the covers, and Stan sat on the edge of his bed but didn’t do anything further. “You want me here, or over there?”

A singular moment of silence, then Ford beckoned him over with two fingers. He wasn’t expecting anything less, not after tonight’s earlier confession, and frankly, he didn’t want anything less, so it was with no hesitance that he made his way over to the other bed; not by much, but big enough for two, and they’d slept in much more cramped spaces before. He laid on his back, one arm underneath Ford, the other one in his curls. It was a position that was nothing but familiar to them, albiet one he’d missed the past weeks, and he was happy to be giving something back to Ford for once; a night of good sleep was not arbitrary, not to them. Ford gently set his head on his chest, managed to get his arms over him and their legs tangled up in his sleep. He was cute when he slept, endearing when he mumbled math equations and excerpts about the paranormal.

It wasn’t long before he drifted off himself; day and night cycles didn’t exist here, so he set his alarm for a good solid 10 hours--way more than usual, but Ford needed it and they’d both earned it. He felt well-rested when it finally buzzed, and he was overjoyed to see Ford’s head still on his chest, his own chest still gently rising and falling, curly hair a mop around his head. He stirred gently when he heard the alarm, too, wiggling off Stan to rub at his eyes, and Stan placed a gentle kiss to his forehead before throwing his legs over the edge of the bed and stretching.

“Stanley?”

It was a very soft, very genuine call, and there was some caution as he turned his head, tilted it gently, furrowed his eyebrows. “Yes, Ford?”

“Thank you...for what you did last night.” Ford met his eyes. “I don’t think I say thank you enough, Stanley.”

“‘S alright, Ford.” He said, walking around the bed and sitting on it next to him. Ford’s head lazily collapsed onto his shoulder. “I told you, that’s what I’m here for.”

But Ford wasn’t done. “And that I love you.” Their eyes met again, Ford’s at somewhat of a crossed angle from his head on his shoulder, and Ford’s hands went to his sleeves, gripping somewhat urgently. “I need you to know that, Stanley.”

He laughed slightly, pressing another soft kiss to his twin’s forehead. There was a minute of silence, just the rustling of the trees outside and the smell of last night’s forgotten tea in the air and the two twins who needed nobody else in the world cuddled close. Then Ford jumped to his feet, laughing.

“Race you down the stairs!”

“Seriously, Poindexter?” Stan stood too, brushing himself off. “You think you’re gonna beat me in a footrace?”

“Never said footrace.” Ford laughed, hefting his travel bag with one shoulder and the portal gun with the other. But Stan always had an extra trick or two up his sleeve.

“Ford?”

“What?”

“Love ya’ too.” When Ford’s face softened, like he’d never needed to hear any other words in his life, Stan took the opportunity to snatch the gun from his now-relaxed hand and toss it on the bed, sprinting for the door.

“Last one to the bottom buys waffles!”

If you liked this, I’d really appreciate some reblogs and even better, some feedback. Or if you think there’s something I can improve upon!! Hell, use the tags to tell me what you had for lunch. I don’t care. I hope you all enjoyed my first real fanfic though!!

[evanthenerd83]

Blood And Ink: The Other Notes

It’s been a while since I last posted an update and the situation hasn’t improved. You guys and girls and ghouls should know why. Even if you just recently found this blog, you’ve probably seen the posts, the photos, and the glitched out text.

It isn’t exactly subtle in its goal. It hasn’t tried to hide from you all. It knows that you’re reading this and won’t stop drawing attention to itself until I do what it wants.

And I’ll get to that later.

So, here I am.

I didn’t use my laptop for a week after reading the second note. I kept it behind the bookshelf, unplugged and turned off. It wasn’t because of the note itself, though. I understood what it meant and while it was definitely unnerving, it didn’t really bother me that much. Something about my stories has inoculated me against real life oddities. Write enough stories featuring the paranormal and you get used to weirdness.

My autism might have helped, too. I tend to adapt easily to a schedule, especially at school, and I will ignore any difference present in the environment.

Of course, I might just be speculating. Or exaggerating. Or lying. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but I don’t have a better explanation.

Anyway, it wasn’t the note that unnerved me, but the fact that something had used my laptop without me knowing. That it knew me. My hobby. That it could communicate with me. And that it could leave me notes.

There was also the subject of whether it would leave me another one or not. I had no clue.

What could it do?

Could there be another note waiting for me?

I would stare at the bookshelf and the spine of my laptop. A part of me itched to turn it on while another was screaming at me to take a hammer to it. But I couldn’t really destroy it. Not without getting into trouble at least. My reluctance to satisfy my curiosity grew with each passing day.

I eventually started to make excuses. I had to work. I had to study for the EOCT in Economics. There were too many things I had to do. The week passed by fairly quickly though.

Finally, the break came around and I had no excuse.

The Thing started to move here. When I posted an update explaining how I had been taking a break from writing due to school, several letters were emboldened. They spelled something out. The word “lies”.

I didn’t know how to react to its assertion and decided to ignore it. But someone sent me an anon message. I got the notification on my phone.

“Are you okay?”

Once again, I brushed it off. I lied and said that I was fine.

In fact, I posted a selfie saying so.

A couple of minutes passed before I got another notification. Another anon message.

“What’s with the sickly photo?”

I opened the Tumblr app and came face to face with myself. A selfie that had been distorted to the point where I could make out each and every pimple in crystal clear detail. Shadow clouded. Gray. And underneath it were the words, “IM FiNE Im FIne iM fINe IM FINE IM FINE IM FINE IM FINE”, accompanied by a few tags.

“I’m fine”.

“Nothing to worry about”.

“Don’t worry about me”.

“Don’t you trust me?”

The Thing was taunting me. It knew that I was lying to you guys and wanted me to be ashamed. And its attempts were working. I felt sick to my stomach.

I was raised in a Christian household and I’ve always been told to tell the truth, lest I’d be damned to Hell. It worked for a while. But as you should already know, I lied about the weird text posts. And I kept on lying.

Another notification. Another anon message asking me about my health, this time a lot more reactionary. Some social justice warrior called me a heartless and disgusting person and threatened to report me to Staff. I assumed that someone who had suffered from depression had read one of my more graphic stories and been offended. I checked my blog.

But when I saw the post, I felt my heart drop into my lower intestine. The Thing hadn’t posted a picture. It had posted some text. I braced myself for what I could only assume was a demand.

It was worse than that.

“i did it. i opened my skin for the first time and it was excruciating. but it was also fun. pulling out my Bones and severing veins and siLencing my screaming nerves. this must be hOw he feels. this is wrOng though. i shoulDn’t be hurting myself for such An occasioN, no matter how exciting. but i’m just so happy. he’s starteD wrItiNg again.”

I wanted to scream after I read it. I wanted to die. The Thing was glorifying self harm and had decided to post its musings onto Tumblr, of all places. And it had done so on my blog.

My confusion turned into panic as I scrambled to throw out a decent apology. I brushed it off as a joke. A terrible, terrible joke. I knew that was another lie, but I had to do something to not be crucified by the hoards of SJWs who were knocking on my front door. It worked and nobody even noticed the tasteless portrayal of such a sensitive subject. I was relieved. For the moment.

I went into the post’s available options. I meant to select the delete option, but the screen flickered and I accidentally reblogged it. I had to issue another apology.

The Thing wasn’t done yet. It took me a while to notice them, but there were words in bold that were hidden in my apologies. The first contained “check the” and the second held “laptop”. Put those together and you get: “Check the laptop”.

Check the laptop.

My laptop.

It wanted me to check my laptop. I glanced at my bookshelf and shuddered when I saw the silver spine poking out of the darkness, just where I had left it. The rational part of my mind was in a screaming match with my curiosity. This could’ve been a trick. Another ploy to get my attention. But at the same time, it could’ve been a honest request.

My curiosity won in the end and I reluctantly pulled it out. Dust had settled around its screen and the battery was dangerously low, about twenty percent. I didn’t plug it up though. Didn’t really care.

It worked fine enough.

A familiar feeling raised its ugly head as I opened Notepad. It had been weeks since I read the notes, but I could still remember how uncomfortable they made me feel. The Thing knew a lot about me. It knew things that were meant to be private. It must have been stalking me.

There was a new file folder in Notepad. There wasn’t a title and it didn’t appear to be that big. Just a couple of gigabytes. I opened the file, coming face to face with six documents. Two of those documents were the first notes I had read. I scrolled down to check if the first notes had been deleted or just simply transferred or copied, but I couldn’t find the originals.

The third document was titled “I’m Sorry”. From the information displayed, it was created a day after I had hidden my laptop. My fear almost won the argument. All of the shock and confusion from earlier returned as a fire. But it was already too late for self preservation. I opened it.

“You’ve been gone for quite a while now, Evan. Is everything okay?

I’m sorry for making you upset. I shouldn’t have pushed you so far. You needed some time to get back into the groove. You weren’t ready. Hiatuses can be hard. I can respect that.

But you can’t just leave me alone.

Not like that.

You didn’t even respond.

Just understand.

I need you.”

The fourth was titled “Why”. It had been created a week ago. A very short note.

“Was it something I said? Why would you keep me like this?”

The fifth was titled “Remember Me”. Created six hours earlier.

“Did you forget about me?

Hm?

I’m sure you didn’t. You couldn’t have.

But I can’t shake the feeling.

Maybe I need to jog your memory.”

It was obvious what it meant. It had posted about self-harm in order to get my attention. All its other attempts had failed and it knew enough about Tumblr to fire a warning shot. And that strategy had worked.

I had denied its authenticity and accidentally reblogged it. Reacted to it. Surely, that was what it wanted from me.

But there was still one more note.

The sixth note was titled “Everything”. Created an hour before I had decided to check on my laptop.

“I hate you.

I've tried everything. Everything.

It doesn’t matter how many notes I write. You still haven’t realized how much it hurts.

You probably think that you can just stop and I’d no longer exist. Well too bad. I’m not going anywhere.

So what will it take to get you to write again?”

To write again.

I swallowed some spit. As soon as I read those words, everything clicked. Made sense.

It didn’t just want my attention. It didn’t just want me to respond to its constant inquiries and notes. It wanted me to write again. It was waiting for me to come up with another story or poem. All this time, after everything it had put me through for the last month, it wanted that?

I exited out of the document and closed the file folder. My head started to hurt.

I created a new document, stared at it, and typed a single word. A question.

“Why?”

[hyba]

This is going to be my last post on this matter, I think. After about a day of trying to figure this thing out, I've realized that these mirror websites, while still a bit of a concern for me personally, might not be a major concern for most others. I'm really thankful that the Tumblr community has picked this up and spread it far and wide in order to help me get some answers to something I had absolutely no clue about, but it seems like my original post/thread also had some unintended consequences, and I would like to make it clear that my intention was never to fear-monger (and, by extension, I don't think any of the people who reblogged my post had that intention, either).

Knowing that these websites exist and allowed people to access my content and information worried me (understandably, as so many others are also worried). I do understand that Tumblr is public, that all the images I've posted on it are on Google Images now, and that anyone can access my content regardless. But when I started my Tumblr, my understanding was that it went only as far as Tumblr itself. I had no idea I would also be a part of these mirror sites (is that what they are? 😅). Anyway, long story short, I freaked out because lo and behold, there was my whole profile on these websites I'd never heard of (websites which reportedly seem poorly managed, do not respond to take-down requests, and have pop ups, malware and viruses galore). I'm still not happy with these websites and still concerned about them.

But the more I learned about these websites, despite their shadiness, the more I realized that I personally had little to worry about. I've always approached my blog with a degree of distance and fun professionalism, because of course we all know the Internet is a dangerous place to give out any information about yourself. The art I've shared isn't art I would feel particularly bad about losing control of (it was mostly practice stuff, anyway), and what little writing I do share is mostly writing prompts made for Tumblr users to read in any case. And so, I'm not very concerned for myself. I think, even if I choose not to hide my blog, that I should be alright. A lot of other users feel similarly, going by some of the responses I've been getting on this post. I'm still personally concerned, of course, and would have preferred that permission was sought in order to put my stuff on there, but we're past that point by now.

Of course, artists on this blog who share art they put effort and time into - art that is theirs - might understandably still feel threatened by these mirror sites because they don't know that their art is being showcased/distributed through another platform. People who share photos of themselves and personal info might also be concerned. (I still don't know if these sites delete posts when you delete them, but if they are true mirrors, I am hoping that is the case.) I can't fault them for wanting to move to more secure platforms (if there are any), which is why I made a list of possible alternatives (only to then realize that mirrors exist for IG and Wattpad too).

The bottom line is: I no longer feel threatened or freaked out by these mirror sites despite the fact that I still do not trust them, nor do I think I will be leaving Tumblr as a platform yet (if you guys will still have me 😊). But I will be more active on backup platforms as well, in case I do decide that this is too much of a threat to my online security and how much control I have over the content and information I share online.

Mirror sites like these seem to be more common than I knew yesterday. I don't recommend rash decisions based on a moment of panic, and I'd appreciate it if everyone weighed the pros and cons of staying on Tumblr based on the (re)discovery of these mirror sites for themselves. I know that some Tumblr users will be leaving anyway, which is a decision I support. I know that others, like me, will be staying for now. Either way, it is your individual decision and should be made carefully.

That's pretty much the broad important strokes of what I want to say. Again, big apologies if my post started a panic or made people feel anxious! It really was not my intention, but I realized early on that the post was getting out of hand and a lot of people were evidently unsettled, as I was, when they realized these sites exist. I was unaware of these websites before and their existence came as a shock, so of course I worried. Im not very savvy with these things, and I can't tell you for certain that these websites do not pose a threat to you. I hope everyone can stay calm and make the rational decision for themselves based on the information we were able to put together as a community both on this thread and outside of it.

Thanks again, everyone, for helping me figure this out as much as possible! I hope we all stay safe and approach our online lives with a bit more of a magnifying glass now! 🔍

Stolen posts?

Guys, there’s something I’m a bit concerned about. Recently (as in, ten minutes ago), I found out that there is this website called Tumgir that has all of my Tumblr posts and blog on it. I don’t think it’s an extension of or owned by Tumblr. Apparently there’s also another one called Tumbral that does the same thing?

I’m not sure why my stuff is on there, since I’ve never visited these websites in my life, but I just wanted to raise this point. I’m concerned that my posts can be found there quite possibly even after I delete them. (To be honest, I don’t even want to click on the website since I don’t trust it. A lot of the info comes from this post about this same issue, and those who reblogged with the same issue as well. I’ll be reblogging this post to share with you as well.)

@staff it would be very helpful if you could also weigh in, just to be sure if this is indeed a Tumblr thing or if these websites are acting on their own?

It’s just really strange and I wanted to get it out there for my writeblr friends and other followers in case you’ve ever shared something and don’t want it automatically re-posted to another website.

If I’ve got something wrong and this is a normal extension of Tumblr, please let me know, but I don’t think it is…

[squidgvtz]

Get To Know Me Tag

Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better

Tagged by @commander-shyshyshy

Nickname: The people who can’t pronounce my name call me Griffin or Jordan

Gender: Female

Height: 5′ or about 152 cm

Time Right Now: 11:41 EST

Last thing Googled: chogiwa 10 hour version

Favorite Bands: This is going to be long

Kpop: B.A.P, BTS, EXO, Twice, Red Velvet, Block B, Got7, all NCTs, Day6, Winner, Big Bang, Dean, Jay Park, 2NE1, etc. (there’s too many)

Not Kpop: Breaking Benjamin, Pierce the Veil, Halsey, Five Finger Death Punch, Sleeping With Sirens, Shinedown, Metallica, Nirvana, Twenty One Pilots, My Chemical Romance, Panic! At The Disco, The Weeknd, Eminem, The Killers, Lund, Arctic Monkeys, Avenged Sevenfold, Bon Jovi, etc (again, there’s too many. i listen to A LOT of music)                                                        

Last Movie Watched: Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Last TV Show Watched: Supernatural

When Did You Create Your Blog: I think about 3 years ago

What Kind Of Stuff Do You Post: Mainly kpop trash with the occasional meme. Sometimes I’ll post stuff about video games, tv shows or comics

When Did Your Blog Reach Its Peak: It hasn’t 

Do You Have Any Other Blogs: I had an art blog but I never posted there so I deleted it. My old Tumblr blog might still be up too but I don’t remember what it’s called

Do You Get Asks Often: No

Why Did You Choose Your URL: I haven’t escaped my emo phase yet and I like raptors

Following: 504

Posts: a lot of kpop stuff

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Pokemon Team: Mystic but I lowkey want to switch to Valor

Favorite Colors: red, black, teal, gray, pink and purple

Average Hours Of Sleep: I have no clue. My sleep pattern is crazy.

Lucky Numbers: 1, 7, 13

Favorite Characters: 

TV Show: Lucifer or Castiel from Supernatural, Twisty from AHS, Eleven from Stranger Things 

Movie: i don’t know  

Book: Nico de Angelo from The Percy Jackson Series and Finnick, Katniss and Johnanna from The Hunger Games

What Are You Wearing Right Now: Cheshire Cat tank top and sweatpants

How Many Blankets Do You Sleep With: 2

Dream Job: I have no clue. I kind of want to animate and make cartoons or make video games but I also want to do something in space science.

Dream Trip: I would love to go to Japan, Europe and South Korea. Also Trinidad and Tobago since that’s where half of my family is from

I’ll tag @bestabsoluteperfectcrack @xdragonbutlerx @stantalent-stanbap @scentedpandas and whoever else wants to do this

bye!!!

[agermanbetweenscots]

Settling In

I wish I could remember how exactly I met every single one of my friends for the first time – and really, people should write way more diaries. We should note down way more experiences, memories are so short lived and it sometimes freaks me out.

Shayna and me were talking about it and unfortunately both of our brains are old and leaky – and we might also be similarly awkward with new people that the pure anxiety of meeting each other for the first time made us delete that experience from our brains but here is what we think happened.

1. I was getting coffee and the Costa in the hospital

2. Martha was there too. Maybe Nico too. Or maybe it was Nico and not Martha. Someone else was there.

3. We sat and had coffee (so somehow we must have been early to class) I know. Back when that was a thing. Back when cycling to uni took longer than pressing the ‘join meeting’-button)

4. Hassan and Shayna came in.

5. Hassan saw us, said ‘look, other medics, lets join them’ and dragged Shayna along with him.

Shayna and me obviously bonded over college in the US, boyfriends on the opposite of the world, older age and feeling a little out of it with all the young, drunk kids.

At some point she brought up studying in coffee shops – and I was just like, HELL YEAH. Coffeeshops + studying (+talking) = friends. Fortunately, the equation worked out. Our first coffee shop study friendate was the 12thof October 2019.

On the 23rd of October, Shayna had organised for the Grads to go to the Escape room in town. This escape room was special as it has the same room four times, so we could all do the same room at the same time and this is how I met Hannah and Dom a little more.

Trying to escape, Hannah and me struggled to put batteries into a flashlight (I know, we’re sooo smart), while me and Dom were in a different room, Shayna and Hannah freaked out when a picture fell off the wall as part of a clue. We did not win (but I think we came second).

After the Escape room, we went to Five Guys to have some burgers, this really made me feel like I have friends. Great feeling.

Also, I had joined two sports clubs. Lacrosse and Triathlon.

Triathlon was a bust, I have had such a great time at ENTC in Edinburgh, I loved the people and how kind and cool and chill the people were. Those had been my people, I loved the training sessions, the running and the jokes. And at first, I told myself, new club, new people, new vibes. Give it time, I told myself. And they weren’t terrible. None of the SUTRI people were mean to me or particularly difficult.

It was just the whole vibe of being too focused on times and races and how good someone did on their last race. I remember being at a social and them being a bit weirded out about me not wanting to get faster for 5K.

What I wanted was a chill, chatty running group, a chill trainer, getting better technique with no pressure – I think I found the opposite.

However, I found that in the Lacrosse Club in Soton. LAX was and is still so chill about your skills, they noticed when I didn’t come for a training session – which is always good to know. I like it if the people notice whether you are there or not, so you feel part of the club wven though you just joined.

I wasn’t the only German to sign up for LAX, for the first session, Pauline, Basem, Jana and Larissa were there, too. Jana and Larissa stopped going pretty early on – Pauline and Basem stayed though.

LAX was great. Every Tuesday evening, we went to training – rain or sun. Although, having placed Lacrosse now for two years I notice that holding a wooden stick with bare hands in the cold Southampton rain is the worst. My poor knuckles and joints. Wide Lane (the pitch we play on) is across from the airport and therefore really far out of the way. The cycle up takes around 25 minutes. On the way there, its fine. Its mostly downhill, you are still full of Energy, excited to play Lacrosse, get out of the house, stop studying etc. On the way back, however, IT IS THE WORST. It is uphill – my bike cannot change gears, you just ran around in the cold, you’re hungry, cold and annoyed and now you get to be sweaty and out of breath as well.

This was mine and Pauline’s first Lacrosse game – we played the Fresher Team of the Uni – we lost (not really a surprise) but it was so much fun to play.

The next picture is of one of those forfeits – basically we play and train and have mini-games we play. And If you lose or aren’t as fast or quick or good as the other team(s), they get to punish you. Sometimes it will be a wheel barrow race, sometimes it is a human pyramid. Most often however, it is having to roll down a hill close to the field – I think I spent most of my time before Christmas muddy, cold, clammy and full of grass spots.

So here I was, settling into life in Southampton. Tuesdays Lacrosse, Mondays Triathlon and inbetween study dates and the occasional social or pub drink.

Shayna and me became closer and started to have study dates after every uni day. We would take the Bluestar 17 down to the city centre and study in Starbucks at the Central Station for hours afterwards. Then we would head to hers and eat dinner, or I would head home.

First term uni was wonderful. I enjoyed FoM being easy (as already mentioned) but the subjects I enjoyed the most were Anatomy, Pharmacology and Pathology.

Anatomy:

I loved the lab. It would be taken from us way to early and way too abruptly but 2019-us didn’t know that. Anatomy overwhelmed us regularly, but thankfully we settled into quite quickly.

We started with the introduction to the different systems of the body that we would learn more about later on: a little breast, a little penis, some GI and lots of histology. Although those slides still look just pink, purple and white to me. Ooops.

The overwhelmingness of Anatomy caused me to buy a skeleton though. And that’s how I got Buddy.

Pharmacology:

Taught by my absolute fave professor Tony Sampson, who is a simultaneously frightening, terribly sarcastic and darkly humorous, we started with pharmacodynamics – and like histology I don’t remember much. But learning about the drugs, drug interactions and side effects made me feel like a doctor in the making.

Pathology:

Karwan was a lot. Lots of definitions, lots of pathological tissue changes that we looked at. Learning the difference between Ischaemia and Necrosis (so subtle) or how hyperplasia and hypertrophy are technically different and still somehow the same. Similarly, to Pharmacology and Anatomy, Pathology added Medicine to the biology and general sciences we studied.

While I was writing this blog post, Dom came into the living room and reminded me of the lecture that scared him in first year.

And it didn’t scare him because of the content. Or because the lights went out, or fire alarm turned on or because zombies invaded the theatre (although first year freshers are often zombies at a 9AM lecture) but because someone fainted. I don’t remember being scared however. Worried for the person and a little bit in awe of how nonchalant the profs react to whenever someone is fainting. This prof (trauma surgeon, talking about traumas and A&Es) was literally just standing there, sighing and then asking the friend to bring the faintée (let’s pretend that this is a word) outside to give her space and a more distance to the powerpoint lecture with gruesome pictures.

I remember someone fainting in the Anatomy lab though, the first person ever to be fainting in front of me. Here, I remember how quick and non-dramatic fainting was. It was just a drop to the floor, knees giving away. I think in my mind, I always imagined fainting to be more dramatic, almost overacted, like in Jane Austen novels or films. Fainting in my mind was a dramatic sigh, a hand to the forehead and then a fall backwards. It is not. I am unsure of whether to be sad or relieved by this fact.

I like thinking back to first year. I remember the strange mixture of pride, confusion, panic and struggle. How many talks have I had with my friends about the workload? I wish I had known what was gonna come my way.

[inventedworld]

LOST CONTACTS, FOUND IDEAS

It disappeared, effectively vanishing the moment I turned my head back to the screen. There had been an electronic message on my phone, sent to me from some unknowable location, filled with personal information. At first I thought this was a scam. Everybody receives endless junk emails and voicemails and voice phone calls and texts, and I assumed this was another intrusion. Apparently it wasn’t. It had caught my attention with a couple of keywords. It identified me and my sister, my father, and extended family members in a distant state who were now deceased. I opened the note with only the barest glint of interest, thinking it was junk. Then, from the first line, I read the note with a growing sense of surprise, even shock. Here was a tether to unknown parts of my own past, sent by an author who had just—did I see this correctly?—completed a book about two distant relatives, and had discovered information that she thought my current family might like to have.

The sun had not yet risen. I was still foggy from sleep, trying quietly to organize my morning while others in the house had not yet awoken. I set my phone down, dropped a pair of socks that had been in my other hand, and bent to pick them up. Then I turned back to the screen with the intention of leaving myself a reminder to write back to this person later in the day. The screen glowed silently; the message was gone.

A minor panic ensued. I had just found this person, or, more precisely, she had just found me. Because I was unfamiliar with the messaging tool that she had used, I didn’t know what I had done to exile her note into the digital void. I had hardly digested her initial message and it was now gone. I even wondered for a moment if I had misinterpreted some sort of old message from someone else, rationalizing an explanation to myself. But no. Couldn’t be. I’d deleted it. A growing unease provoked an increasingly agitated expenditure of time that I really didn’t have as I clumsily searched the web for solutions to recover deleted messages. Unfortunately that effort yielded bad news: wasn’t going to happen, at least not easily.

The morning extended out  in front of me. When I had climbed out of bed a few minutes before, I didn’t know this information about distant relatives even existed, to say nothing of a sleuthy author who had amassed it.  Now this thing that I hadn’t known about no longer existed. I lost something that was nonexistent moments before; I lost the weightless mass of non-existence. There hadn’t been an absence at the start of the day but as I sat in my kitchen about to re-enter the world a new absence opened. I couldn’t write back to this person asking her to reconnect, because I hadn’t yet captured her name. 

Unexpected circumstances, ipso facto, always provoke surprise. For a moment I even contemplated pretending that there hadn’t been a message all. My day had not been dependent on this new information before I received it. My day-to-day life had not been in pursuit of any new family connections. If I never re-connected with this mysterious messenger, nothing would change.

My contemplation didn’t last long. There was no way to ignore the inevitable.

I had been particularly compelled by what I thought she had said about some sort of document cache in the basement of my distant relatives’ home. The pair to whom she referred were legendary academics, vital in their fields, and philanthropically generous. Their archives might contain extraordinary finds.

I sat back in my chair, aware of time disappearing around me, and then resolved to head out to my car.

Throughout the entire experience there was one familiar aspect, however. When I get a creative idea – – for a film, and article, a photograph, whatever  -– I am aware that there are always influences just beyond my reach ready to brush it aside. I am aware that my ideas are only lasting if they can be captured and preserved. I am aware that everything is ephemeral, and there’s no way to get it back once it disappears. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.

Pale orange sunlight was just beginning to sneak in through my kitchen window. I swept my car keys from the table and headed to my car. Some unknown someone had influenced my morning, my day, my life. I didn’t know her; I hadn’t expected her. Then, like the end of nighttime darkness, her direct influence disappeared, without a single trace of evidence that it had even existed.

I didn’t have her contact information, and I didn’t have the information she offered to share. But I did have the roots of a good story, and for that, I also have a wry sense of gratitude to the mysterious person who reached out unexpectedly one morning to tell me about a distant part of my life.

POST SCRIPT — In the weeks since this blog was written I did some investigative digging based on limited clues, and to my great surprise I found the author of the original. I was never able to dig up here original message to me, but by searching for recent publications about my two relatives, followed up with a series of phone calls and emails, I ultimately connected! Now new adventures await.

@michaelstarobin

facebook.com/1auglobalmedia

[findingkaraskye]

V: Anxiety - Part 2

I’ve been going back and forth in my mind about sharing this part of my anxiety, just because it touches on a very personal...person and their effect on me. I won’t mention the name, some people might know exactly who it is, some people might have a clue, some won’t even know. 

To begin though, I want to stress that I am doing my best and trying my absolute hardest to not put the blame on this person. I don’t want to put blame on someone else for my anxiety, but it’s hard when they became a part of it. Hm... blame. I should do a follow up post after this one about the factor of blame and how much it affects me as well. 

This part of my anxiety has to do with disclosure of emotions and things that one might normally keep to themselves. It’s sharing parts of yourself that terrify you, and the sharing terrifies you more. And I know I’m sharing a lot on this blog, but just know that even typing each word in each post scares the hell out of me. There are moments when I just want to stop what I’m doing and delete this entire thing. But I won’t. I think I’ve shared enough for people to deserve more. Though I don’t owe anyone anything.

Where to start... I met this person a while ago. Seven years ago I think? In those seven years we fell out of touch. He went away to school or something, and I was here in Virginia graduating high school and going to university. And then in October, we ran into each other once more at a bar. I recognized him. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything. To be honest, I was out that night meeting with another guy who had been asking me on dates for weeks and weeks, and I decided to just finally hang out with him and invite a group of friends so that I wouldn’t feel weird with him alone. But this old friend caught my eye. And I yelled out his name, and said hi. And the rest... well, long story short: in our second beginning when we exchanged numbers at the bar and continued to text and snapchat, and when we hung out the first two times, I decided that I hated him. I thought he was immature even though he was older than me. I thought he was insensitive, and I thought he was selfish. The first time he kissed me, I didn’t kiss him back, and he was hurt, and I literally said, “what makes you think I would even want to kiss you?” But a couple months after October, I was out at bars with other people, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him. And then it all started. Us together. 

I have a knack for unfortunately never listening to my best friend’s instincts. I’ll name names now. Rebekah, my best friend, has always had this amazing instinct about people. Almost all the other guys I’ve briefly dated she’s said she had a bad feeling about, and literally EVERY TIME she was right. And she hadn’t even met this guy yet, she heard his voice at her end of the phone when he was in my car, and she already didn’t like him. I wish I had listened. 

Anyway, he was someone I fell for too quickly I think. I still beat myself up about this. After we began dating, I think he immediately stopped doing the things he did to get me in the first place. I loved going out and enjoying moments with friends and exploring, He never wanted to go. Unless it was his friends. I love, LOVE doing the whole movie thing, going to a movie theater, getting the tickets, and watching the movie, leaving afterwards to discuss it. He never wanted to go to the movies. He never took me. All our time was spent at his house. He never wanted to come to mine, when I would drive 20 minutes to his as soon as he wanted to see me. All we did was lay around in bed, watch tv, eat, and lay back around. Not much being said, just on our phones. One time, I decided to bring a book with me to pass the time. It was a beautiful book, and I cried finishing the last chapter, and he judged me. He told me I was crazy for crying. I’ve always been a person who strongly shares my emotions. Crying, laughing, smiling, anything else. And he wanted me to tone it down. The first time I had a panic attack at his house, it was 3am. We were sleeping, and I woke up suddenly with that huge rush of anxiety, and got off the bed, sat on the floor and cried. He eventually woke up and told me to just stop crying and go to sleep. Gave me a small hug. I didn’t expect him to know how to deal with my panic attack, but in the back of my mind, all I could think was... that’s it? I couldn’t stop crying, and I decided to leave. At 4am, I drove the 20 minutes back home to take a hot shower, get into my own bed, and sleep alone. There were small moments when he could be sweet. Opening doors for me, cooking for me, bringing me my favorite flowers on my birthday, showing up to my work to surprise me with a birthday present, and playing with my brothers. But outside of that, I don't know why I stayed. One night, we were out getting ready to go to the bars with his friends, and another friend called him on his phone. He was on the phone for the longest time. But I got so hurt when I heard him say, “yeah, I’m out with Kara...she’s just this girl I’ve been talking to.” It hurt so much hearing this. Another time, we got into an argument when I asked him to clarify whether we were really together or not, because he was confusing me. He told me, “we’re dating, but we’re not together.” And I thought I could wait it through to really be together with him. When we were out, everyone regarded us as boyfriend and girlfriend. He would tell other girls at bars who hit on him that he had a girlfriend, so I did the same when other guys spoke to me. I loved showing him off on Snapchat, or to friends. He never did the same with me. One time, he pretended to break up with me while I was having a really hard weekend full of my dark moments, and I cried and cried. Until he admitted that he was just joking and that I was crazy for thinking it was real. He called me crazy so much, I started to believe it. When I think about it now, I wasn’t happy, but I still believed we could make it. I wish I hadn’t stayed for so long. 

Obviously I’ve shared some stuff on here already about how I’ve grown up with a tough life. Dad going to jail, being depressed at an early age, and there’s so much more. The first guy I loved ended up dying last year. And all these things, I slowly revealed and shared with this guy. I told him that my dad wasn’t really my dad, but that I have a biological father who isn’t around much anymore. And I told him that it had been hard thinking of my dad as a dad presently. He told me not to take it too hard. I told him about the first guy I loved passing away, he told me to move on. He took my depression and anxiety as a way to get drugs (medication). He tried to tell me that I only had depression and anxiety because I read sad books and poems and listened to depressing music (which I really don’t think I do). He misinterpreted my super empathy for music and art and books, as something wrong with me. And it just hurt so much that I shared the deepest parts of myself with him, only for him to hurt me with one last argument and never speak to me again. 

The sad thing is... there was one day I woke from a nap at his house, and he was sitting next to me on his laptop, sending out emails for a job. And I watched him and thought, “I could really love this guy.” Wow, I was so dumb. 

I now know that it was all emotional abuse. I wish I had known it wouldn’t work with the crazy-calling and his unwillingness to commit. I wish we hadn’t gotten so many other people involved. I thought his parents were amazing. I loved playing with his nephews. He hung out with my family so much. But everything behind the facade was filled with so many negative emotions. 

The point of this post isn’t about him. It’s about sharing personal parts of myself. I shared some of the deepest parts of myself that I had kept hidden away, because these are things I’m so afraid to reveal, because I feel like they will push people away. And I revealed these things, and he had nothing for me. And it really, truly hurt. I’ve shared some of those deep things in this post. And this entire blog is one of those deep things. I had always been terrified of sharing with others that I was depressed, and the things I do to myself with depression. 

My anxiety lies within the disclosure of myself. It is so scary to share those parts of yourself that you’re afraid of, it’s scary to think of the effects it will have on others. I hope whoever reads this knows... It takes everything in me whenever I write these posts. It’s terrifying to type each word. Ugh, I’m starting to cry, so I’ll end this off here. But there is true anxiety and fear in sharing personal information. And it really sucks when you share it with someone you cared for...just to have them brush it off.