#which again I don’t have a lot of terminally online friends that get it but | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yearofradicalselfbelief · 1 year ago

Text

Part Four [Progess & Foundation Laying] - 16/12/23

Hello! I actually have a non-depressing update to write today, what a time to be alive. Discussions of 2024 goals, and changes to my writing schedule ahead.

I’ve spent the last week or so basically already making a start on my goals for 2024, so that once January hits, all I need to actually do is maintain the momentum instead of spending the first few weeks undoing whatever bad habits I could let myself slip into just because it’s the holiday season.

My big goals for 2024 are nothing new. I go into every year wanting to read more, write more, and exercise more. The thing is, there was a time when I’d have these goals and each one truly would be starting from scratch. Before I started writing daily as a rule, weeks would go by where I didn’t write a single word, then I’d feel bad about not writing, which would make me want to write even less, and create that great little feedback loop from hell. I also went through a ridiculous reading dry spell during/following my uni years, because nothing makes you want to read less than doing an English Lit degree, and honestly I’d never been big into fitness beyond a few weeks-long health kicks up until I hit my 20s, either.

So when I’d first have these goals, none of the foundation would be there, and I was basically expecting my habits to go from 0 to 100 the second the clock struck midnight for the New Year. Recently, I’ve been doing things smarter.

Starting my daily writing streak on 1st January 2020 was a great starting point, because I haven’t missed a day since, and I’ll be hitting my 1500th consecutive day of writing sometime in the first quarter of next year. The year that followed that, 2021, I started to take my fitness way more seriously. I worked out on and off before that, but 2021 was the year where I did my first ever 75Hard challenge – successfully – in the summer, then another the following autumn, and I’ve done several since.

2022, as I’ve said, was a bit of a write-off because of everything I went through, but 2023 has been the year of upping the reading habit. Last year I read 14 books, this year I read 41 – with ~5 more being in progress, but I probably won’t finish those til New Year. My goal for next year is 50.

The thing is though, juggling these habits means that it’s been pretty common so far for one thing to fall by the wayside while I focus on the other two. When I did flufftober this year, I didn’t have the time to do a single workout the whole month. Or when I do a workout challenge, my writing output halves because it gets to the evening time and it’s just a struggle to stay conscious during the evening hours where I’d ordinarily get my best words in.

So my overarching goal for 2024 is to have a year where I just absolutely ace all three of those habits. I want to read lots, write lots, and get a great level of consistency with my workouts. I do have more minor goals that fall within all of that too, like finding a way of using social media that isn’t all or nothing. This year, my screen time has either been insanely high, or I’ve been on Instagram breaks for months at a time. Then I hang around until I can see it’s wearing on my mentally, and disappear again for a long stretch. I really want to find a middle ground with that – one that doesn’t have me being so terminally online that I feel like shit, but also one that doesn’t have me constantly missing out on cheering on overseas friends, with whom IG is my only source of real communication.

And, as I said on my main blog, another big thing I’m changing is really controlling where my energy goes with my writing, and when. Because I do have a bad habit of focusing on fanfic more than I focus on the novel. There are a few reasons for that, and honestly I don’t even regret it – yet. But if I don’t make any changes, there will be a day on the horizon where I do.

Fanfic has been, and still is, great for me. It gave me a community of amazing, kind, supportive, and generous people when I was in the lowest point of my life (and I cannot overstate how much that made that time bearable for me), and it has improved my writing by miles. I’ve had people in my life who do openly view it as me wasting my time because it hasn’t gotten me further in my writing career when you only look at the basic facts, and there have even been times when I’ve been tempted to give into their way of thinking. However, earlier this year I read some very early drafts of the novel – from way back before I even started Little By Little – and they were just not good at all. Then, I look at the chapters I’m producing now, and seeing how much better they are, and that change is thanks to the sheer amount of fic I’ve produced in the last few years.

In part it’s because of the fact that writing so often is bound to improve said writing, but it’s also because of the feedback I’ve gotten on those fics. Feedback doesn’t always only limit itself to reflecting on the specific story that feedback pertains to. Sure, sometimes it’s a case of “I wasn’t a fan of this plot point” or “I don’t like this character”, but other times it’s “I feel like there has been too much introspection in these last few chapters” (which was a big problem with my writing at the start of this decade, and really showed in early novel drafts), or “I really enjoy the humour you put in your stories” – because allowing myself to have fun and be silly with the narration in Catch the Wind, and seeing not only how much fun I had with that, but how much people liked that, really freed me up to add the same thing into the novel itself.

It all contributes, and while I do have a tendency to get upset at myself for reaching the ripe old age of 27 without having yet even queried a single novel, I look back on the stuff I was writing at the ages when I really wanted it to happen that specific year, and I can see that my writing just wasn’t ready for it. Now, thanks to fic, it is.

But that still leaves me with the fact that I now really do need to start prioritising my time. The discrepancy with fic and original work comes in the form of instant validation. With fic, I can finish a chapter, and if it’s a popular story I might have a comment on it within an hour. And it’s not that I feel like I can’t write without that, but because it’s such a help with my own anxiety when it comes to writing. I have a tendency to finish every chapter thinking it’s shit, and I don’t believe otherwise until I have that first comment telling me someone enjoyed it. With novel work, it doesn’t work that way. And because the novel means so much to me, that adds to the anxiety, until there are times when I’m so anxious about working on it that I can’t even enjoy working on it, because I’m just telling myself “what if this is shit? What if you’ve wasted ten years of your life building this world and creating this thing, and it ends up being for nothing?”

And I mean, it won’t be for nothing. If no agent wants to take it on, I’m not averse to the idea of doing a patreon type thing with it once I’ve exhausted every other avenue, but it is just that initial anxiety. I know it’s irrational, and my beta readers are really enjoying it, but the fact remains that I am a Frightened Bitch. It’s genetic.

But I need to overcome that, and I won’t overcome that if I’m running to the safety blanket and instant validation of fanfic whenever my anxiety spikes.

This is something I’d resolved to fix for quite a few years now, but I’ve never gone in with a specific game-plan, which means I then fall back into usual habits very quickly, because “idk I’ll figure it out” isn’t cutting it here.

So, I’m imposing a rule where I can only post one fic chapter, total, a week. Not one chapter of each fic, just one chapter of one fic. Fridays will be fanfic days, and I’ll post my chapter, and then I’ll go back to novel work. If a few months go by and I’m especially happy with novel progress, I might up that. I still want to take part in flufftober, but I’m really hoping that by then novel work will be so far along that doing so won’t be a problem, because it’ll be a nice break from edits rather than all-out rewrites. The plan is to also decide at the start of each week what will be updated next, let you guys know what it will be so you’re not waiting only to find out it’s a fic you don’t even read, and then rotate between that and the novel during that week. My current way of doing things is to have like 12 word docs open at any given time and just add to each one here and there until something is finished, but that isn’t the most efficient way to go about this.

I do have other set outlines as to how I’m going to achieve my other goals, rather than just “read more” and “exercise more”, because breaking them down into concise weekly targets to hit makes so much more sense. As for the screen time/social media dilemma, I’m going to be taking every Monday off of social media – with the exception of answering IG messages, because I use that in place of texting and I don’t want to completely self-isolate, just lessen the scrolling and the posting. I’ll also be limiting how often I can post, because the folk who follow me over there will know that my IG stories get a bit unhinged re: length at times. If I need more than that, which I think I will, I’ll extend the break to Tuesdays, too.

And the 50 book goal is pretty neat, because I can then just set myself with the goal of one book per week, or aim for 100 pages a day, which is fairly doable most days.

It’s going well, so far! I worked out five times this week, I’ve done quite a bit of reading, and I’m currently in the progress of updating every fic that I want to update before this once a week rule comes in (HTWA, Free, and Fallen Through Time are the top priorities – then, I think HWFG should roll around to be the first thing I update come New Year).

And to finish things off, I mentioned in my last post that I’m forcing myself to go out and do fun things for the sake of doing fun things at least once per month, beyond just errands and stuff that needs to be done, even if it just means a solo cinema trip or whatever. I did that this month, so have my proof of that in parting. Went to the city centre for lunch with a friend, and to take in the Christmas lights and snoop at the pretty clothbound classics.

So happy to be able to post something actually positive on here for once! I intend to keep that up, and I’m very grateful to the people who are following along on here!

5 notes · View notes

perfectlullabies · 2 years ago

Text

since this dreadful year is finally coming to an end, here’s my DIARY ENTRY because i feel like writing it all down (well, just a short summary of some of the things that have happened)

let’s start with the way i finished 2021. i had a severe panic attack in a supermarket when i was on my way to weronika’s to spend new year’s eve together and had trouble calming down for over two hours. thankfully i took some meds, changed my clothes, called my mom and cooled off. not exactly a great sign for the upcoming year, was it?

first four months were pretty much uneventful, i was doing fairly well at uni even though i still had online classes. i was hoping to get a job (did not get it eventually). at the end of january i started taking meds which definitely helped a lot with my ocd i’d had since childhood and i also applied for therapy

then may 16th happened - your usual monday. the day before i was watching eurovision with weronika, having a great time drinking beer etc. morning after when i was drinking my coffee i got a phone call from my distressed mom. i immediately knew something terrible must have happened, i could hear it in her voice and the way i heard my aunt in the car with her. they never got together unless something was Happening. my mom called me straight from the place the accident took place. she was talking to me as she looked at the car wreck and her deceased mother on the ground, with the police still guarding the place. my 73 year old grandmother, who had just started her retirement after 50 years of working as a pediatrician, had been killed instantly in a violent car crash - a truck had driven right into her side of the car because the man had lost consciousness while driving due to brain tumor. my grandparents were on the way to the oncology centre bc my grandfather had been terminally ill. so that day my grandma decided to drive him to the centre, usually she wouldn’t do that

my grandfather survived the accident itself but passed away two weeks later on may 29th due to severe injuries and ongoing illness. the accident sped up the process. i said goodbye to him and promised him to visit him again - i didn’t have that opportunity

i hadn’t talked to my grandmother since 2017. we had a very complicated relationship, you could say we were estranged. we used to be very close prior to that. not gonna get into details because i find it irrelevant right now. however i wish i had a chance to apolgize to her and for her to have the chance to apologize to me and my parents. we never got the opportunity to reconcile. i hate to think about it

after the accident came funerals, just two weeks apart

my whole family’s crumbled, there’s an ongoing WAR that my abusive uncle and godmother initiated. no details here either, just know that when i use the word abuse i really mean it all - physical, psychological, financial. all kinds

from the very start it was me and my mom who took care of most things. we cleaned the flat back in june, we then cleaned the flat again back in august and today we emptied the basement and the rest of the furniture and stuff from the flat that has been sold. none of my cousins helped - instead they sent me disgraceful messages on facebook

i’ve just come back from their flat, having thrown out most of their stuff that was left there. i’m tired, pissed off and so melancholic

this year has shown me that people don’t have much empathy, pity and kindness in them. nobody helped us, nobody cared. none of my so called friends or relatives cared - they still don’t. people think that when such a tragedy happens, it’s over within a month or so. it’s been 7 months now and the things we’re dealing with have NOT been as intense ever before. everything takes months or even years here. it’s not easy. no understanding for it either

we had some terribly macabre and grotesque ‘’adventures’’ in the meantime such as having to deal with the funeral home who accidentally sold our 2nd burial place to some other family (they ended up digging up some deceased man. unimaginable)

around september i had to resign from therapy i had been attending from late april to late september because my therapist had been the most unhelpful, ABUSIVE so called mental health professional i’ve ever encountered. she further made me believe i am somehow responsible for the things that happened, also relating to my family past as some kind of ‘’curse’’ - as you know, my grandmother’s brother and his wife were killed in a similar car crash back in 1978. so she told me we were cursed. anyway it’s over and done with, i’m no longer seeing her and i won’t ever attend therapy again. gross

in 2022 i had been ill at least 5 or 6 times, each time ending up on heavy medication. so did my parents. my dad had to resign from his job because of health issues and other things. i am very worried abt my parents on daily basis

i haven’t slept well since may. i have nightmares, truly awful ones. almost always involving our trauma. i had shown many ptsd symptoms and i dearly hope it won’t develop further. but who knows at this point

when it comes to uni and everyday problems - my thesis supervisor proved to be especially unhelpful. i haven’t touched my thesis since may and i don’t know when i’m gonna continue. uni doesn’t help with anything, i’m all alone with everything there, more so than ever before

i have no support from anyone - it’s just me and my parents out there. doing everything, dealing with everything. on top of it all we received no money from the insurance companies - NONE AT ALL. two people have been killed. we get nothing from it

the man who killed them hasn’t contacted us, not even a message with an apology. nothing

and now the global things - ongoing pandemic and the terrifying war in ukraine which is so close to us. my heart goes out to all ukrainians, i love them all dearly, they’re like beloved family to polish people ALWAYS. i’ve got nothing but unconditional love and support for them

2022 made me believe that there is not much kindness in this world. not much pity and understanding. no empathy. no one cares and life goes on and this is the lesson i’ve learnt this year. you die and nothing happens - that’s what the terrifying truth looks like

#thank u for reading. i could write more but i started crying and also i'm so angry and idk if there's much point...i already said too much

9 notes · View notes

longing-for-rain · 7 months ago

Text

I’m sorry, I usually don’t reblog these kinds of posts, but I keep seeing this kind of glamorized prostitution rhetoric posts crossing my dash and I’m absolutely disgusted, especially seeing this circulating in fandom spaces which I know lots of young girls are participating.

Reading posts like these, I can only figure that either you have absolutely no empathy for prostituted people (who are almost entirely women and gay men) or you are too terminally online and naïve to think about what you’re saying actually entails.

I’ve worked with and been friends with women involved in the sex trade. If you think it’s a #girlboss movement controlled by upper middle class white women like the photo implies, you’re sorely mistaken.

“They get to nut” you say when prostituted women enter the sex trade when they’re underage.

“They get to nut” you say when prostituted women experience PTSD in higher proportions than combat veterans.

“They get to nut” you say when women in poorer nations are routinely subjected to ,,sex tourism” by men from wealthy nations.

“They get to nut” you say when countries like Germany with supposed protections since prostitution is legal have seen an increase in trafficking from poorer nations—including nations like Ukraine undergoing crises.

“They get to nut” you say when women are being denied unemployment pay because they declined to be a prostitute in Germany.

“They get to nut” you say when rape, abuse, and murder are rampant against prostituted women.

“They get to nut” you say when most of these women are getting absolutely no sexual satisfaction at all, and many are left with such severe trauma they never want to have sex again.

“They get to nut” you say when most prostituted women wish to leave the sex trade but feel they can’t.

“They get to nut” you say when substance abuse is rampant among prostituted women because they are so desperate to escape the pain.

You accuse feminists of shaming or demeaning these women for pointing any of this out, but I can’t imagine anything more disgustingly inhumane and lacking in empathy than to respond this way to such a demographic.

You elevate only the minority of voices that present prostitution as this glamorized, sexy fantasy when that couldn’t be further from the reality of the torture the sex trade puts marginalized women and gay men through on a daily basis.

You really think having to stand behind a counter for 7 hours is comparable to rape?

You really think your boss asking you to stay late to finish doing the dishes is the same as a “client” coercing you into sex acts you don’t want?

Just say you have zero empathy and go. You only listen to the voices that support your own narrative and it’s absolutely disgusting, especially when you’re making the industry seem cool and glamorous and “better than a day job” to young girls who have no idea what they’re getting into. You demonize and accuse feminists—even women who were previously involved in the sex trade—of shaming to silence those voices. This is literally the same rhetoric pimps and traffickers use. In fact it wouldn’t surprise me if OP is one of those people.

I’m not blaming everyone in this chain because this grooming rhetoric is everyone and I know you aren’t thinking critically, but please consider what you’re supporting here. Please consider the implications of selling sex as a commodity and the full implications of that, and how utterly disrespectful posts like these are to the victims and trauma the sex trade relies on to thrive.

#tw sa #tw rape #feminism

157K notes · View notes

1863-project · 3 years ago

Text

A Brief Submas Primer

Did you just find out about the Pokemon franchise’s most popular battle facility since the Battle Frontier because of a plot point in Legends: Arceus? Were you curious because your friends were talking about some weird train man and you have no idea what they’re on about? Worry no longer, because this mole person has you covered.

What the hell is Submas?

The term ‘Submas’ is a portmanteau of their Japanese trainer class title, Subway Masters (in English releases, they got the trainer class title Subway Boss). Note that I’m saying “they” - there are, in fact, two of them, and they’re twins.

Ingo (Nobori) is the older of the two of them, specializing in Singles. He speaks overly politely/formally (more obvious in Japanese), has no indoor voice, will yell “BRAVO!” the second anything remotely good or exciting happens, has an overbearing sense of responsibility (it’s an older sibling thing, trust me), and became an accidental sex symbol on Pixiv (don’t ask, he probably doesn’t know either). He’s best known for being the “serious” one and notably has not been allowed to smile in-game to this day, although he was allowed in the anime and manga to be more expressive. He makes up for this by being very, very loud.

love of my life Emmet (Kudari) is the younger of the two of them, specializing in Doubles. His dialogue is a lot more blunt and informal (again, more obvious in Japanese; the English translation made him seem almost stiff), and he’s actually the more excitable of the two of them and is nearly always depicted in-game in a good mood and smiling. This is a bit deceptive, as when he’s battling he’s actually very serious and intense about it, and he also does take his job seriously and will go through safety checks before battling in certain scenarios. He has a verbal tic of reminding people that he’s Emmet, probably because when you have an identical twin sibling you get tired of being mistaken for each other your entire lives, and another verbal tic of saying “very” as “verrrry.” He’s not irresponsible in the slightest but is still the goofball younger sibling to his older brother.

What, exactly, is the Battle Subway, and why is it so popular?

The Battle Subway is Gen 5′s most notable battle facility. To get to it, you go to Nimbasa City and enter Gear Station, which architecturally appears to be a combination of Grand Central Terminal and the late Pennsylvania Station (F in the chat). Once here, you can choose to do Singles, Doubles, Multi (2 vs. 2), or Wi-Fi battles (playing online with multiple people). You’ll face 7 opponents in a row; losing gets you booted from the train at a stop you didn’t intend to get off at, which in New York City is a regular commuter annoyance. Winning 20 in a row allows you to fight Ingo, Emmet, or both of them if you’re doing Multi Battles; you can then fight them again with their team aces if you rack up a separate winning streak of 49 battles. Like all battle facilities, this is a challenge and requires skill and luck in equal measure, but it’s a lot of fun if you enjoy pushing yourself in that way.

As for why it’s one of the most popular battle facilities to date, being referenced in multiple games since its inception in Gen 5? Japanese railfan culture is on an entirely different level than other places; the nation adores its trains, and for good reason. Throw in a set of weird-looking twins and you’ve got a recipe for success that you probably weren’t expecting. Here’s a poll done at the time of Pokemon Black and White showing the most popular characters; note that Ingo and Emmet are second and third respectively...only behind N.

(When I found this poll, I found some people who didn’t believe it was real. Obviously, they were people who didn’t know about Japan’s railfans.)

Why do they point like that?

Japanese railway employees use a system called pointing and calling to reduce workplace errors, improve muscle memory, and overall avoid accidents. Pointing and calling originated at the beginning of the 20th century - because steam locomotives are Very Loud - and has continued to this day because it improves safety. By pointing at each indicator/task and saying it out loud as it’s performed, it actually increases focus and decreases mistakes, which is immensely important when you’re working with trains.

The New York City subway has its own version of point and call - there are zebra signs (black and white striped signs) at each station, and when arriving at a station the conductor has to open their window and point at these signs to ensure the engineer has correctly lined the train up with the platform, because if the train isn’t lined up correctly...well, passengers could step out and there might not be a platform to step out onto. Not a good thing. Anyway, yes, you can have fun with the fact that they’re required to point at every single station.

What Pokemon should I expect to see here?

Ingo and Emmet appear to share a lot of their team members, as you’ll see both of them using certain ones depending on what mode you’re playing. Most notably, Ingo’s ace is Chandelure, and Emmet’s is Eelektross:

(The dynamic duo as they appeared in the anime.)

You’ll frequently see them associated with other team members, too, though. In Pokemon Masters EX, in order to allow them to work together as effectively as possible with the game’s mechanics, Ingo has his Excadrill and Emmet has his Archeops. Emmet is also frequently depicted with a surplus of Joltiks, because his Galvantula knows Cross Poison, a move it could have only learned from breeding in Gen 5.

This is a full listing of their team members if you’re interested, or if you’re like me and enjoy trying to run their team in other battle facilities. (Yes, it works.)

Okay, OP, you’re from the greater NYC area. How the hell does your subway system actually work?

For whatever reason, a lot of people find our subway system intimidating at first glance. We have over 470 stations and counting sprawled across several boroughs, so it can be a lot for a visitor from a place with no public transit whatsoever or a less complicated system.

The truth is that the NYC subway system is actually three historical systems that were merged a long time ago - the Interborough Rapid Transit Company (the numbered lines [1-7] and the shuttle [S] between Grand Central and 42nd Street-Times Square), the Independent Subway System (lines A-G), and the Brooklyn Rapid Transit Company/Brooklyn-Manhattan Transit Corporation (lines J/Z, L, M, N, Q, R, and W). In the 1940s the city decided to take control and merge them all into the modern Metropolitan Transit Authority that we know and love (?) today. If you’re interested in the history of the subway, you can learn more at the New York Transit Museum’s website!

To take a ride, you need a MetroCard, although these are in the process of being phased out for a new system called OMNY, which will allow you to tap your phone and use that as payment. Currently, the fare is $2.75. Every New Yorker ever will complain when there is a fare increase, even if that increase is minimal. Jumping the turnstiles to ride for free is illegal, but many people do it anyway. And yes, if you’re good, you can speedrun the entire subway system. I haven’t done this yet, but I fully intend to.

Do people actually fight on the subway in real life?

Yes, I’ve witnessed it, and it was far from the weirdest thing I’ve seen on the subway. You get used to seeing strange things when you ride regularly.

Are there really that many rats down there?

Yes, and they’ll be your friends if you feed them. Most of the time they avoid humans, though, but you can watch them skitter about on the tracks when trains aren’t nearby. One I observed at 14th Street-Union Station once was particularly smart and knew exactly where the train would stop, then stood just past that point and avoided being hit.

What about abandoned stations?

We have plenty, and if you know where they are you can look out the window for them as you pass through! If you’re visiting NYC, I particularly recommend taking the 6 train all the way to the end and staying on when it loops back around to go back uptown. You’ll pass through City Hall, the original terminus of the 6 line and an absolute masterpiece of architecture that has sadly been closed to the public since the 1940s due to trains being elongated since that time.

City Hall is objectively my favorite subway station in the entire city. It even has chandeliers. I’ve often wondered if this is why they gave Ingo Chandelure in the first place.

OP, you’re a foamer, aren’t you?

Maybe. (Don’t get me started on the GG1, Mallard, or the destruction of Penn Station in the 1960s.)

Is there anything else I should know?

Actually, yes, a few things:

For whatever reason, shipping Ingo and Emmet together is called Blankshipping. I do not do this because I have a real-life younger brother and obviously am wildly turned off by incest as a result. It was hard to avoid it during the games’ original run, but it seems to have thankfully died down now, though it’s still out there in places. Tread with care.

People in the know might notice that both of them can be interpreted as autistic-coded characters. (As an autistic person myself, I feel very seen by the fact that they exist and are so much like me.) Take care when depicting them to make sure you’re not doing anything ableist by mistake (Emmet in particular got hit hard by this early on). If you’re not sure, ask a neurodiverse person!

Don’t touch the third rail, you’ll be electrocuted and die instantly.

The man whose voice you hear saying “Stand clear of the closing doors, please!” is named Charlie Pellett, and his voice sounds like that because he was born in the UK and tried to disguise his accent growing up to avoid being made fun of. He now has the most recognizable voice in New York City.

DON’T WEAR YOUR BACKPACK WHEN YOU’RE STANDING ON THE SUBWAY. Seriously, it takes up too much space, bumps other riders, and is generally a nuisance. Yes, this applies to the Hikers you meet in the Battle Subway, too.

Hopefully this guide helps you out on your journey into the world of the Battle Subway and the Submas fandom! I’m happy to assist with any more in-depth questions about our subway system/trains in general, as well as other inquiries. Just don’t send me your Arceus theories anymore, I’m trying not to think too hard about it because it makes me cry. And with that...

出発進行!

#Pokemon #Submas #I like trains #I spent hours on this oops

4K notes · View notes

memryse · 2 years ago

Text

i wanna expand on my tags a little actually <3 loveposting for the mcyt fandom at the end but under a cut bc this is pretty heavy Backstory (tw for suicidal ideation) and i’ve never spoken about it publicly before but i think i would like to get it off my chest after all this time. bc i never really opened up about it and i don’t think i could say it directly to anyone

ok so. pandemic bad. we all get that right

i handled the first part of the pandemic p well. it was summer, as an introvert (and, as i have recently realised, an undiagnosed autistic who was REALLY struggling in sixth form) i enjoyed the freedom from other people. i ended a shit relationship (don’t edate, kids), got super into twisted wonderland, made some lovely friends in my twst server who i still adore to this day. i thought the pandemic would be great for me!

but as it turns out, i actually do need a little bit of contact with people my own age in order to not go insane. and to put my social situation into perspective, i had a friend group at sixth form who i never talked to outside of school and intended to drop the minute i had an excuse to do so because they were transphobic, and two friends from pre-sixth form who went elsewhere for sixth form who i Also barely talked to anymore because. again. undiagnosed autistic. reaching out to people just to say “hi” and make small talk is not my thing no matter how well i know a person.

so september rolls around, we start university. i my friends move to their unis, i move to mine for a bit, make friends with one of my flatmates, but then we go back into lockdown at halloween and both of us go home. again, i struggle to keep contact with her, and i’ve made no real friends in my online classes either - i talk in the group chats a lot, met my classmates once while i was still at uni, but don’t click with anyone. and it’s also november. so all of these things considered, the seasonal depression hits really hard.

i realise i wasted my entire time in school being a terminally online kid who can’t maintain friendships with people in real life (narrator voice: this is, again, because of the undiagnosed autism and wanting to share your obscure hyperfixations but nobody irl caring). and i also realise how little i ever have private conversations with people even online, that barely anyone ever even bothers reaching out to me personally despite me having several close online friend groups. and i just… get it into my head that i’m fundamentally unlikeable and broken as a person, that i’m not worth getting to know outside of a group setting. i start noticing everything about other people’s friendships to the point that i either have to remove myself from conversations where my twst friends would mention other people or i would just outright take out my misery on them because i had no other outlet other than this twst server that i ran. by the end of december, i was idly contemplating suicide pretty much every day. it’s without a doubt the most mentally unhealthy i’ve ever been - i’m normally very self aware/analytical of myself but i was so absorbed in how utterly miserable i was that i couldn’t see how much of a dick i was actually being. the worst part is that my friends did reach out, but at the time it didn’t help, because it just made it feel like people only cared because i was acting so obviously concerning.

i think around mid january i realised it was not healthy for me to be around those people, but even then i hadn’t realised i was treating them like shit, it was very much from a self absorbed place of “i will feel worse if i keep hanging out in this server”. so i just… cut myself off from people. deactivate my twitter. try to stop talking in the server as much as possible. focus on uni work. still utterly alone in real life - my two school friends would message me every once in a while, but i never know how to properly respond, which continues the cycle of me feeling isolated and broken. yknow what’s funny is that in hindsight we had a minecraft server with the three of us in december and my brain erased all connection between “your friends want to play minecraft with you” and “your friends like you and want to hang out with you”. and i knew they were talking and hanging out with each other too and that they knew each other’s personal lives, but i was comparatively out of the loop. what i’m trying to say here is that i used to not think jealousy was a genuine thing until i became the human embodiment of it

except for one thing. one of those friends is a wilbur/dsmp fan. and they keep messaging me dsmp references, which i absolutely do not get, but am sort of aware of the existence of the dream smp. i watch a couple of the videos they send me, but generally understand none of it. all i know from twitter is “dream is bad”

it gets to the end of february/beginning of march, and i say fuck it. i start watching wilbur’s dsmp videos, and then tommy’s. by the time i get to the exile vods, it’s become such a hyperfixation that i physically can’t concentrate in class anymore because all i can think about is watching the next vod. which, yknow, not great for my academics especially when i’m already struggling because of the Mental Illness. but what it does give me is an excuse to talk to my friend! and our other friend sees me getting into it and decides to check it out too (hi mint if you’re reading this. i’d put a heart but it feels a bit awkward after the paragraphs about suicidal depression) in total it takes me like. two or three weeks to catch up with the general gist of lore, with my first live streams being the prison streams. for related reasons i don’t remember most of that period. it was a BLUR

i reactivate my twitter because i’m unable to keep myself from gushing about the hypfx. at first i only use a 0 follower side acc because i think everyone will hate me for liking mcyt. then i decide to post it on main, predictably lose followers so i do end up making a diff account. BUT hog hunt comes out, which convinces sin, my twitter mutual since 2017 or 2018 to go from “will maybe watch dsmp one day” to “has to find out about this thing immediately”. we’d been mutuals for so long and are basically the same person but had never properly become close bc we were always into different things

and well. all of that somehow ends up in me getting into 3l and hermitcraft despite having awful associations with hc because of the shitty relationship from the start of the post. me, irl friend mint, sin and some other New friends manage to all become a friend group because of a minecraft server. long story short in april i travelled to london to meet up with them because they’re my dearest friends and i have photos of us on my wall all together wearing minecraft youtuber merch.

i talk to both of those irl friends nearly every day now. which all started with mcyt yes but we’re just overall so much closer now, we all live in different places but make efforts to hang out a lot - often for mcc <3

starting in december i allowed myself to properly start talking in that twst server again. for most of 2021 i’d been too hyperfixated on mcyt to even really want to, but i was also so disgusted by how badly i’d treated them that i figured they were better off without me. but… they welcomed me back with open arms, i’ve never felt an ounce of anger from them even though they definitely deserve to be mad at me for all of that. i talk to them most days even if it’s just to check in or share an outfit. they’re like my family and i love them so dearly

and finally! i moved back to uni in march and worked up the courage to join a society - i became such fast friends with them, we hang out so much and i met multiple hc fans in the society! one of them is coming over to watch double life with me tomorrow <3 i thought i was incapable of making new friends but i’ve clicked so well with all of them. the mcyt thing is just one part of that, but well. domino effect. if all of the above hadn’t happened i would have been too depressed to consider even trying making new friends. and i’m so glad i did.

i’ve made so many cool friends from tumblr too, and never in my life did i see myself returning to tumblr until i found out that there were more inniters on tumblr <3 in general my life has just done a complete 180 from early 2021 and i truly owe all of it to the video of crimeboys trying to gaslight phil into thinking he doesn’t have a wife, and the video of tubbo trying to pronounce “diamantspitzhacke”. this fandom is hell sometimes but it’s definitely the reason i’m alive today, so that’s generally a good thing i think

yeah this got. really long but okay. the one part of my life that i have still not improved is that i have no clue how to open up to people, i don’t really do direct emotional closeness. nor would i necessarily want to dump all of this directly on anyone, because it’d almost feel like i’m blaming them for that dark point in my life, like i’m saying “you should have been there for me”. but i’m done being angry about it, i could have done more to reach out for help. so writing this out and sending it off to the void of tumblr is cathartic enough for me, and whoever happens to read it, i don’t really care. i’m just happy now. amazing what minecraft youtubers and a community of gay minecraft youtuber fans can do for a person

#tw suicide #tw suicidal ideation #memos

26 notes · View notes

sixtynineinchnails · 3 years ago

Text

I’ve seen a lot of disc horse happening on here about hyperfixations on Harry Potter and whether or not people should be forced to stop liking the series altogether. and once again people are taking the argument to the extremes and whipping each other into a rage.

I have ADHD. I have hyperfixations. Sometimes those fixations are on problematic or outright bigoted/awful media. I cannot control what my brain latches onto besides not being exposed to it in the first place, and some media (Harry Potter especially) is hard to avoid. I can’t just stop fixating. and yes, for a long time I did fixate on Harry Potter. it has taken a lot of time for that fixation to fade, and I’ve had to come to terms with a lot about the thing I once cared about so dearly.

that being said: you can have a hyperfixation without supporting the original text or creator.

want to watch the films/read the books? get them from a local library, buy them secondhand, or pirate them.

want to buy merch? buy from small businesses (not trademarked stuff) or buy secondhand.

want to wear Harry Potter merch? wear it around the house.

want to create fan content (fanart, fanfic, amvs, edits, etc)? do it. create it. maybe send it to a friend. do not post it.

want to talk about it? talk to a friend, family member, mutual, therapist, etc. don’t make posts about it.

I think sometimes we forget what it’s like to live in a world where we aren’t constantly sharing our interests with others online. but considering how many people have been hurt by jkr and her content, I think it’s fair in this case to say: fixate, let your brain cope with life however it has to, and if Harry Potter is what’s keep you going right now that’s alright. just don’t post about it. participating in online fandom is keeping her relevant, thus supporting her. she has made this clear herself. she’s aware of how fandom influences her platform.

and if you’re currently fixated on Harry Potter please remember to view it with a critical eye. I understand how hard it can be to see the flaws in something you’re so attached to. but in this case it’s not just the author. the media itself does contain a lot of problematic stuff (racism, slavery apologism, anti-semitism, fatphobia, appropriation of indigenous cultures, as well as a wealth of other things. if you’re wondering about any of this, feel free to comment or dm me any time and I can expand on these to the best of my knowledge).

that being said: if you’re currently on the side of the argument begging people to stop engaging with all Harry Potter media altogether: I get it too. I’m trans. I deeply despise what jkr has said and done, her wealth and influence, the movement she stands for, and the swath of wreckage she’s using her power to cause. I also agree that the text itself is deeply problematic and at best should be viewed with a highly critical eye and at worst should be taken out back and burned. if everyone could just stop engaging with Harry Potter media and fandom, that would be sure be nice.

unfortunately I don’t think that’s possible this time. Harry Potter still has a massive following around the globe who will never see the reasons to disconnect from it. telling neurodivergent kids online to simply stop hyperfixating is pointless and doing more harm than good. forcing people to feel incredibly guilty for their fixations isn’t exactly fair.

we all agree jkr is harmful and needs to have her platform removed. we all agree that the only power we have is by keeping the media relevant, or letting it go. it seems the level to which we need to disengage is the part where contentions arise, and extreme, black and white viewpoints and the terminally online nature of our lives and interests is warping our perspective.

if you truly don’t want to support jkr, you cannot keep posting Harry Potter content talking about how much you like it, regardless of whether or not you give her money or tag it “fuck jkr”. she’s already a billionaire. this is beyond giving her clout. this is about decreasing the relevance and platform of the author and her content, while creating a safer community for people who’ve been hurt by jkr and her content.

and if you truly want to get people to join your boycott, you have to understand that not everyone will be able to disengage the same way as you and the fact that they’re trying does count for something. the only way this will do anything at all is through unity.

TLDR: if you’re currently hyperfixated on Harry Potter that doesn’t make you a bad person, just please engage with the media in private and remember to view it critically. if you’re currently getting upset at people for their fixations, please consider helping to educate rather than lose your cool at internet strangers.

—

jkr apologists, terfs, Harry Potter defenders, etc: before you tell me to touch some grass and get over it, consider why you’re sitting there reading posts about things that you don’t agree with. you can just ignore this post and just keep scrolling. or better yet how about we both log off for a bit and go have a cup of tea instead

#oh jeez this became such a long post that was not the intention #and yes I am aware that I am also terminally online. I’m literally posting about internet discourse at 3:30am. this post is @ myself too #anyways. please be kinder to each other #fuck jkr #harry potter #hyperfixation #jk rowling #long post

41 notes · View notes

coeurdastronaute · 4 years ago

Text

Essays in Existentialism: Plus One, Ch. 2

Previously on Plus One

It oscillated every other minute between being an amazing idea, but also being the worst idea of all time, and Lexa was mostly exhausted of bouncing back and forth. It might be easier, she decided, if she just got herself on board with it being a good idea, but a deep, gnawing hole seemed to manifest itself in her gut at the very thought of seeing her ex.

As she went through the motions of finishing the day, of doing inventory because it was Wednesday, Lexa tried not to distract herself with the thoughts of her impending trip. In just forty-eight hours, she’d be face to face with Costia, who she hadn’t seen in months, who she avoided before occasionally running awkwardly into each other at mutual friends’ events. She’d come face to face with her ex who was getting married.

And she was going to do it with a complete stranger on her arm.

With a heavy sigh, Lexa tossed her clipboard on her tiny desk in the storage closet and plopped down in the squeaky chair, tipping it back with a wail. Her sister was the worst.

It was quiet in the shop, closed for just a handful of hours, Lexa always took a day to inventory and repair the damage of the week. She enjoyed the late evening work, when her workers were gone, and the shop was empty and full of dreams. No one knew how the cabinets stayed so clean, or how the scratches on table tops got sanded and fixed, or how the wobbly table by the window was miraculous cured one day, or how the ceiling fans got dusted, just that it all happened, and Lexa was off, meaning she didn’t come in until at least ten, the following morning.

But Lexa sat in the chair and let her brain do the same mental gymnastics it always seemed to do in the new quiet she found herself craving. She opened her laptop and ignored the awaiting spreadsheet, and instead opted to look over the answer Clarke had given her to the “Know your partner” quiz Clarke googled and made them both do. A mix of basic information and Newlywed Game style innuendos, Lexa filled hers out after a bottle of wine and anxiously waited for Clarke’s.

That was what started the daydreaming. She scrolled through Clarke’s answers and furrowed, doing her best to memorizing all that she could, as if she’d be tested on it all, as if it’d be impossible to believe she could be happy with someone like Clarke.

And when those thoughts started to seep into her brain, Lexa leaned back again and dug the tips of her fingers into her eyes.

In a week it’d be over.

And with that and a deep, heavy sigh, Lexa looked at the screen again and went about learning Clarke.

She started professionally, of course, looking at her corporate page and resume, because this was, if not anything, simply a business transaction and Lexa thought it was easier to parse a person if she didn’t actually have to fall for her.

A graphic designer at Anya’s firm, Clarke held accolades and a long list of references. The link to her work showed a wide range of commercial campaigns and a certain amount of talent evident by her list of upcoming projects. A graduate of a small, private, liberal arts university, her academics leaned heavily scientific, which was a surprise until Lexa read some of the answers in the survey about a degree in physics given up for art.

Lexa promised that she wouldn’t have looked at Clarke’s Instagram if Clarke hadn’t requested her first. She wasn’t someone who lurked, or at least she thought she wasn’t. She didn’t want to be someone who snuck around, digging through someone’s past, analyzing every filter and caption like a private investigator. But then Clarke appeared.

And there were pictures of Clarke with friends getting drinks on a rooftop. And then the one with her laughing and baking. Or the Christmas party where she was on a corporate Santa’s lap, smiling so wide her eyes were shut. Despite herself Lexa found herself smiling along with the girl in the pictures. The one who went hiking with a pack of dogs, and the one who seemed to always be eating something. The one who had a lot of friends and enjoyed making them smile and laugh. The girl who posted storie about her morning run, and the girl who seemed to have a healthy work life balance.

Lexa closed the webpages and stared at her inventory for exactly two seconds before curiosity won again and Lexa started looking at Costia’s account. There were the standard pictures of her pre-wedding planning. There was Costia working out. There was her new bride-to-be, happy and smiling at a gift for her birthday.

And then a throwback that made Lexa’s stomach drop as she stared at a familiar image of Costia smiling in a bikini on a beach. It was from the last trip they took. Lexa was the one behind the camera.

Three weeks after that picture was taken, Lexa walked in on Costia and a girl in the middle of the afternoon. Right in their own bed. Only to then discover it’d been going on for months. And it wasn’t the first. And then, Lexa didn’t remember much except that she moved into the apartment above her coffee shop and woke up one morning alone on sheets that weren’t familiar, in a room full of boxes.

It seemed even more difficult to start inventory after that shot to the gut.

But her phone went off, and Lexa leaned back in her chair after shutting the laptop again, wondering if that sinking feeling ever went away when it came to someone you love, or loved, or once loved, even for a moment. She didn’t have anything to compare it to, and she didn’t have any idea what love really was.

It felt like a deep wound was scratched open, the scab pulled back, and a burning numbness gnawing at the bottom of her spine. It felt like it would swallow her whole, and Lexa hated, more than anything, giving anyone the power to do anything as such over her.

Hey! Do you think this will go with your outfit?

An image came next, of Clarke in a dressing room wearing a very pretty dress, with very messy hair with her tongue sticking out. Lexa didn’t notice the gnawing feeling disappear.

We don’t have to match completely.

We do! Don’t you know how to date?

Not really.

Another picture of another dress came a moment later. Clarke was pretty. She was happy and silly and kind. It felt oddly normal, for as crazy as the whole scheme actually was.

I like that one, Lexa wrote, making sure to add a heart-eyed emoji to emphasize her point. Maybe that was flirting. Maybe she was allowed. She definitely needed more rules.

Good, I do too. It matches your tie, you know? And these heels will still leave you a little taller than me.

Sounds good to me!

Kind of excited. I guess I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow.

I’ll be the one at the bar.

I’ve heard it’s possible to find your soulmate at the airport. Something about the crossing of paths and time and space.

If my soulmate is a bottle of wine, then I reckon I might.

A love story for the ages.

Lexa smiled once more at her phone before tossing it to the side and letting her head drop to the desk. With a groan she growled into her hands and broke it down. She just needed to make it seventy-two hours. That was it. She could sleep for about twenty of those. She could drink for another twenty or more, if she really tried.

But this was it. This was the end.

And regardless of the weight of everything else, there was something satisfying about knowing it was almost over.

XXXXXXXXXX

The airport was absolutely teaming with bodies and people, weaving their way through the swelling crowds, loading and unloading the terminals at a constant, steady thumping rate, so regular one could set a watch to the heartbeat of the building.

Clarke adjusted her bag on her shoulder and tapped the ticket against her thigh as she moved through the security line. The nerves were coming for some reason. That was why she was at the airport three hours before the flight. She was anxious and needed a stiff drink and a few moments to catch her breath. She needed to escape the whirlwind she’d allowed herself to create.

Carefully, she made her way through the airport, checking the boards and finding her way to a seat in the empty waiting room. Not even an attendant waited at the kiosk.

Once again, she let herself awkwardly scroll on her phone, learning everything she could about her future date and weekend plans.

Lexa was nearly non-existent online. She didn’t have any pictures of herself. She rarely posted anything on her personal account, and when she did, it was just a book or a coffee or from a trip. She wasn’t one to enjoy being the center of attention, but when it came to her shop, she made sure to post almost daily, highlighting her employees and their recommendations, she made share to highlight events, she made sure to be as active as possible.

Anya had already warned Clarke that her sister was devoted to her work. She’d poured all of her effort into being successful and part of the community, and Clarke admired it, she just wished that there was more for her to see.

And so, once more, she flipped back to the long line of questions they’d filled out before giving up and gazing out the window at the planes coming and going.

For a moment, she allowed herself to think that she was doing something nice and good. It was an act of charity. It was the shake up Clarke needed and was selfishly trying to package as benevolent.

“You beat me, and I’m usually the first one here for a flight,” Lexa observed, walking up to Clarke, stealing her from her reverie.

“I like airports. Just waiting for true love to stroll up and introduce themselves.”

Lexa shoved her hands in her pockets, her bag balanced on her shoulder as she cautiously looked around, surveying the empty terminal slowly. Clarke watched her look around, smiled at the innocence of it. Enjoyed the way she ran her hand through her hair, mussing it up a bit and tossing it to another side.

“No one likes airports,” Lexa shook her head before taking the seat beside her.

“I do. They’re romantic.”

“Romantic?”

“You can get onto a plane, and a few hours later, you’re hundred of miles away, and it’s different weather, and it’s a different time zone. You can go to sleep in a different state. How can you not be romantic about that.”

“It’s a tin can filled with recycle air.”

“But there are peanuts.”

That did it. Lexa cracked a smile to herself and relaxed a little.

“I was going to be the first one here. Surprise you with coffee, but you beat me to it.”

“You are quite a good girlfriend. Someone clearly trained you well.”

Lexa shook her head, somewhat bashful, somewhat reserved. There was always something right there, just below the surface, obfuscated by a kind of resolve to never give anything away, not at any price. Clarke read it between words in their texts and emails, a glaring finality in the simple pixel of a period.

“Can I get you a coffee? Two creams, two sugar right?”

“You don’t have to--”

“It’s early and I’m trying to be charming. Allow me to somewhat repay you for this whole endeavour.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, darling.”

With the term of endearment, Lexa nodded, grinning into her chest as she stood and made her way across the terminal in search of sustenance. Clarke watched her take out her phone, texting her sister no doubt.

Once more, Clarke resumed the digging on her own, scrolling on her own phone at old pictures on Lexa’s profile. She was ready for fun, and she was ready to crack at that facade.

“I don’t know if this will help,” Lexa sighed as she sat down. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“Oh this won’t be good for me either,” Clarke said as she took a sip. “I’m a fairly nervous flyer.”

“And yet you let me get us both coffee.”

“You made a good point, and I’m prepared to be paid back all weekend.”

With another grin, Lexa leaned back, her arm going on the back of the chair that Clarke inhabited, naturally, with ease, with a level of comfort.

“Are you ready to tell me the story?”

“Which one is that?” Clarke turned to look at her date, returned from an absent moment.

“How we met.”

“How we met,” she nodded, her smile bordering on mischievous. “That’s simple. Don’t you remember? It was a very blustery Tuesday, and I was trying to escape the wind and rain. I almost tripped coming into your coffee shop, but you happened to be sweeping, and were kind enough to catch me.”

“You’re severely overestimating my reflexes.”

“Fine. I ran you over and we both ended up on our asses in the middle of the coffee shop. Coffee everywhere.”

“Sounds pretty likely.”

“And I knew right there, I was hooked. Those eyes, all angry and annoyed at me for not looking where I was going, despite my persistent defense that I’d been assaulted by the weather.”

“Why do I have to be the angry one?”

“Wouldn’t you be though?” Clarke returned, daring her to be contradicted.

“Maybe,” Lexa agreed over the lid of her cup, fretting with it nervously.

“So I crashed into you, and you bought be a coffee. I turned up every day after that until I finally asked you out. You took longer than I would have liked to answer me, but I accepted it anyway, and we’ve been madly in love ever since.”

“And when was this?”

“About eight months ago.”

“How’s it going so far?”

“Splendidly. I’ve already met your sister, who it happens that I work with, which is super convenient for everyone.”

Quietly, Lexa sat there, going over the story, going over all of the past eight months of apparent bliss in her head. Clarke watched her furrow before softening, her eyes not seeing, but rather looking through the window as a plane took off and another landed. The softening of her features was soon met with a perplexion, a slight, gentle contortion of the brow and the lips, a tightening as a kind of confusion overtook the ease of the entire story.

“Is it that easy?” Lexa asked quietly, turning her head toward her date. Clarke cocked her head, waiting for more. “Is all of it… just… a wind? Waiting for someone to just ask you out? Is it that easy? Does that happen to people?”

“It can. How does anything happen in the world? It just… does. The universe is just a series of things happening, all of the time, right?”

“But is it that easy?”

To her credit, Clarke thought about it. She flexed her jaw and took a deep breath before slowing letting it go as she wondered if it really was.

“I don’t know. Maybe it can be.”

“How?”

“I guess there has to be a balance to making things happen and letting things happen.”

“I don’t know if I’m good at either of those things,” Lexa confessed. She sat up straighter a moment later, afraid of her honesty, and surprised more by how easily it came out.

“I think you can be.”

“That’s probably too kind.”

“We’ll see.”

Clarke rubbed Lexa’s shoulder, rubbed the middle of her back between her shoulder blades until she reached the collar of her shirt, where she massaged her neck. She tensed before relaxing, and Clarke didn’t stop, just rubbed there gently, slowly until she knew it was enough and she trailed her palm back toward the seat.

It was right there, they just didn’t know it.

212 notes · View notes

metalbvcky · 4 years ago

Photo

Back in May, I made my first Stucky Ficrec post and months later, I’ve decided to make another since this fandom is hella talented. There’s a little over two dozen fics down below ranging from 10k-100k+ and everything’s categorized.

Do note that lot of these are Modern AU’s (I love those) and most of them are smutty. (yes hello, an asexual here who enjoys smut so very much) Also heed the tags once you click the link(s). Other than that, enjoy!!!

Key: ♥ = My personal favorites, S = Smut, DS = Dom/Sub

a) CANON UNIVERSE

If You're Reading This, Steve Rogers by fallendarlings Words: 39,273 | Post/Canon Divergence 2012 Avengers/TWS, Recovery, Slow Burn

Nobody tells Steve it's okay to cry.

Nobody touches him.

Nobody remembers Steve Rogers is a person under the mantle. It's okay. He hasn't felt like a person since he watched Bucky fall.

don't threaten me with a good time ♥ by canistakahari - Words 10,106 | Post-TWS, Sick!Fic, Sick!Bucky, Cabin Fic

Steve's taken him on vacation to a cabin in Canada in the middle of winter, so it's obviously the perfect time for his body to go haywire. Bucky is determined to stick it out, though, partly because he's a stubborn bastard, but mostly because he feels some kinda way about Steve.

Higher Ground by EmilianaDarling - Words: 13,002 | Post-TWS, S, DS (undertones), Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve

“S’okay,” Bucky murmurs quietly, and Steve sucks in a sharp breath at the brush of Bucky’s lips against his ear, his breath hot against the side of Steve’s neck. There’s a hint of a grin in Bucky’s voice; amused affection and confidence and something heated beneath it all, a familiar tone from so long ago that makes Steve’s heart clench and his cock twitch helplessly in his jeans.

“S’okay, Stevie,” he says again, and Steve can feel the curl of Bucky’s lips against his throat when he smiles. His metal thumb is rubbing circles on Steve’s shoulder. “M’gonna take care of you.”

A year and a half after the events of The Winter Soldier, Steve's been acting recklessly. Bucky deals with it as best he can.

The Simple Life ♥ from The Simple Life Series by howler32557038 - Words: 114,329 (Series Total: 337,273 + ongoing) | Canon Universe, MPreg, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

"The simple life."

"You'll get there one day."

"I don't know. Family, stability...The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago. I think someone else came out."

Bucky wants to be part of Steve's life. He wants to be an Avenger. He wants to be a good partner. Unfortunately, sometimes that means not telling Steve everything.

a road less traveled by Claudia_flies, cyclamental art (cyclamental),maichan, zilia - Words: 75,396 | 2012 Timeline AU, Post-Avengers 2012 (Endgame Divergence), Domestic Avengers, Recovering!Bucky

Steve wakes up on the cold stone floor of the foyer. He scrambles up; there’s glass shards everywhere and they crunch under his gloved hands. People are staring, holding themselves back. They must have seen the fight, must have seen two of him.

His own voice rings in his head.

“Bucky is alive!”

Kept Safe by Whendoestheshipsail (restricted to AO3 users only) - Words: 54,419 | S, DS, BDSM

Steve and Bucky are friends. Best Friends. If asked, Bucky would say he knows absolutely everything about Steve. Except when it comes to sex. Steve lives such a monastic existence that Bucky doesn't know if he likes girls, boys, or none of the above. For all he knows, Steve may have no interest in sex whatsoever.

But then a mission goes wrong, Steve is bleeding out from a wound to the femoral artery and Bucky is trying to stop the bleeding when his hand brushes against metal. Where there most definitely shouldn't be metal. Or a padlock. And most definitely not a torturously small cage.

48 hours by Whendoestheshipsail (restricted to AO3 users only) - Words: 25,894 | Post-CW, S, DS, Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve

Steve is keeping it together. No one would say he's keeping it together well, but he's getting by. Mission after mission, he goes back to his apartment in Wakanda and breaks down. Then he watches Bucky sleep and tries to not notice how everyone looks at him like he's the saddest bastard that ever lived.

But, this time is different. This time, Steve goes back to his apartment post-mission and Bucky is awake, out of cryo and making them dinner in Steve's kitchen. The breakdown is still happening. Bucky isn't pleased, but he does have a plan. For 48 hours after every mission, Steve is going to let Bucky take care of him or he's going to be on Steve's next mission. He can't risk losing Bucky again. Which should make the decision simple.

It isn't simple.

The Sex Therapist ♥ by Whendoestheshipsail (restricted to AO3 users only) - Words: 179,941 | S, DS, DKink, Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve, Current/Past Steve/Sharon

Sharon has given him an ultimatum- either go to sex therapy or it's over. Sex therapy sounds like normal therapy but more humiliating and expensive. It's total BS. He will go because she's making him, but he will also make everyone's lives miserable (Yeah, including his own) and never return again.

Do they have a lot of sex? No. Does Sharon want more sex? Yes. Does Steve do his best? Yeah, actually, he does. He can get it up, he just needs time. Alone. There's... preparation involved. It's not like one just 'is' aroused.

He can't explain it. And he won't. He definitely won't tell Bucky what exactly he thinks about to get worked up enough to screw his girlfriend.

Found My Place in Time - Cap_D, humapuma - Words: 12,492 | Post-EG (Divergence, duh) S, Fluff, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

“Buck,” he heard Steve say, “wake up. We’re here.” Bucky opened his eyes and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension out of his back. When Steve’s words sunk in, though, he turned and leaned forward, staring past Steve’s chest to look out the window. Beyond the wing of the plane, he found a beautiful coastline with white sand, blue waters, and palm trees, as well as rows of bungalows on the water. “Wow,” he murmured. “We’re staying in one of those, right?”

In which Steve invites Bucky on a trip to Fiji and they discover something a lot more than beautiful vistas and friendly locals.

Total Institution ♥ from the Institutions of Love and Incarceration series by thelittlestpurplecat - Words: 94,303 | Canon Universe AU, Prison!AU, Guard!Steve, Prisoner!Bucky, Unrequited Love, Slow Burn, WS Trial

The Winter Soldier has been sentenced to life without parol. His entire world had been condensed to a hot, cramped cell that he hasn't seen the outside of in the four years since his apprehension. It's hell. He has no means of escape, no means of terminating his suffering, and no means of distraction...that is, until he's assigned a new guard. Steve Rogers is assigned the Winter Soldier as his singular charge. He expects a sadistic, violent murderer. What he finds instead is a broken, tormented man with no memory of his past life, and no control over what had been done to him. He's a victim. Not a monster. And Steve won't stand to see him pay for crimes over which he had no control.

Raise Your Glass by minkeys - Words: 10,008 | Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve, Light DS, S, DKink

Bucky knows Steve in ways that his 21st century friends could never even begin to imagine. Or at least, they couldn't until tonight. It's about time somebody corrected all those historians that painted Steve as a straight-laced, God-fearing soldier, and what better way to do it than over a harmless game of "Never Have I Ever." What's the worst that could be said?

b) SHRUNKYCLUNKS

Waking Up Slow ♥ by odetteandodile - Words: 44,638 | Dad!Bucky, Kid!Fic, Hurt/Comfort

In 1945 Steve Rogers crashed the Valkyrie into the Arctic Ocean and was never recovered.

In 2019 Bucky Barnes is walking along the beach below the decommissioned lighthouse where he lives with his sixteen month old daughter when he finds the body of a man washed up in the surf, half frozen but miraculously alive.

Bucky manages to revive him, but finds that the stranger has no memory of who he is or how he got here aside from a name: Steve. Snowed in by a blizzard soon after and unable to get Steve a medevac, Bucky discovers that the funny, good-hearted man slips into the fabric of his and Alice’s life faster than he would have thought possible. The two are undeniably drawn to each other, but as their feelings grow so does the looming possibility that the answer to the question “who is Steve?” might be much more complicated than either of them realized.

Isn't It Ironic? (Don't You Think?) ♥ by HeyBoy, Huntress79, imhereforgaysuperheroes - Words: 33,342 | Jewish, Dad!Bucky, Kid!Fic

Bucky is used to his daughter bursting into tears in the middle of department stores. What he isn't used to is someone braving the wails and actually being able to stop Becca's tantrum in its tracks. Oh, and he's also not used to that someone being Captain America.

AKA, how Steve Rogers calms a screaming kid in Target and falls in love with two more Barneses than he had bargained for.

in my condition love's the best physician by aniloquent - Words: 9,177 | Pharmacy!AU, Russian!Bucky

“This situation is a little more delicate because I don't even know if he speaks English and I'm tired of going down to the pharmacy for constipation medication and allergy pills when I haven't sneezed since 1941.” Steve shouts.

The room falls silent, and he turns back around to find four pairs of stunned eyes watching him.

Tony, as always, speaks first. “He?”

Or the one where Bucky is a hot pharmacist and Steve keeps making up bullshit reasons to go see him.

c) MODERN AU

Home Is Wherever I'm With You ♥ by cydonic - Words: 88,570 | Neighbors!AU, Slow Burn, Parent!Steve, Kid!Fic

This is what happens when you buy a house to flip having only seen the online images: you get more than you bargained for. Bucky Barnes brings all the tools to handle a dilapidated home, but he's hardly prepared for a smart-mouthed child (with poor aim), a crying baby, and the hottest dad he's ever seen in his life living right next door.

That House-Flipper!AU.

if only you could see me (for the pie that i am) ♥ by bitelikefire (theoleo) | Words: 35,121 | Baker!Steve, WeddingPlanner!Bucky

In which Steve is the proud owner of Frost; a semi famous local bakery in D.C. And despite the overwhelming insistence that it’s about time he start dating, Steve swears up and down he isn’t ready for that.

Or as of recently, just doesn’t have the time because of Mr. Barnes. The highly demanding wedding planner on the phone who keeps asking for nearly impossible deliveries and maybe Steve would like to personally strangle him. Maybe.

(There is pie. And misunderstandings. But a lot more desserts and eye rolls.)

So Alive ♥ from the Brooklyn Heights Books Series by GottaSaveBucky (Cosmic_Entity_1of4) - Words: 109,074 (Series Total: 165,440 + ongoing) | Bookstore!AU (sort of), Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky, DKink

A man wearing a light denim jacket over a dark blue shirt came into the shop, a box tucked under his right arm. Despite it being late afternoon, he was wearing sunglasses with bright blue lenses, and his long, dark hair was pulled back in a messy little bun. A few strands had escaped, framing his strong, unshaven jawline. The man looked into the café, smiled widely, and waved in Clint’s direction as he kept walking into the bookstore, and Steve’s mouth went completely dry.

Beautiful, was the only word to describe that smile; straight, white teeth framed by full, lush, red lips, bracketed by laugh lines and an adorable dimple in his right cheek, a charming little chin cleft just visible under the light stubble—Steve was struck literally speechless. And that was before he got a glimpse of the man’s backside. Slim hips and a round, firm-looking ass led to long, lean legs that were encased in snug, dark blue jeans.

“Guh,” Steve said, watching the dark-haired man continue on to the back of the store.

The Penthouse Suite ♥ by elle1991 - Words: 15,873 | S, DS, BSDM, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky, Happy Ending

Bucky Barnes has the chance to earn $5,000 in one night. All he has to do is go to the penthouse suite of a luxury hotel and spend the night with his client, one enigmatic Steve Rogers.

The catch? Steve is a massive pervert, intent on using this one night to satisfy every single one of his many debauched kinks.

Even ignoring the big box of sex toys on the bed, Bucky should have known he was in trouble the moment Steve opened his mouth and said his first words: "My name is Steve Rogers, but you can call me Sir..."

Burnin' For You by GoldBlooded - Words: 15,753 | Firefighter!Steve, Detective!Bucky, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

Steve Rogers is Fire Captain of Brooklyn’s very busy Station 118. He wants three things out of life: People he can count on, for everyone to get through their shifts safe and sound, and for Sergeant James Barnes to get the hell off of his arson scene.

James Barnes is Detective Sergeant of Brooklyn’s very busy 107th Precinct. He wants three things out of life: A decent cup of coffee, good leads to chase, and for Captain Steven Rogers to get the hell off of his arson scene.

Everyone knows to steer clear when these two have to deal with each other. Everyone knows about their mutual dislike and sometimes hatred. But what everyone doesn't know? How they got to be like that in the first place.

Collar Full of Chemistry ♥ from the Rich People Are Wild Series by 2bestfriends - Words: 188,437 (Series Total: 219,519) | Heavy BDSM, DS, S, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

Steve is very rich and desperate to feel in control of his life again after a recent divorce has left him feeling bitter and lonely. When he keeps crossing paths with a disaster twenty-something, an unconventional solution presents itself. Steve's always been one for following his instincts.

Bucky is very broke and can't seem to catch a break, especially after some asshole fires him for one fucking mistake. So of course, it follows that he should sign a contract agreeing to do everything and anything that same asshole wants for a whole year in exchange for a payout that could finally change his life for the better.

Toothpaste Kisses ♥ by buckybees - Words: 18,736 | Dentist!Steve, Patient!Bucky, Amputee!Bucky

Sitting in the horribly antiseptic gateway to hell, otherwise known as the waiting room, Bucky was deeply reassessing his life choices. Maybe if he didn’t eat ice cream for every meal this wouldn’t have happened.

Steve's a dentist, Bucky's a patient. You know the drill.

Out of the Blue ♥ by IsabellaJack - Words: 37,564 | PreSerum!Steve, Detective!Bucky (and Sam!), Mystery!Fic

“Does she have family?” Barnes asks again.

Steve tries to remember. “I don’t know.”

“You sing her praises and don’t know a simple info like that?” Barnes huffs, looking irritated.

Love Is An Ocean Wide by fancyh - Words: 29,009 | Shapeshifter!AU, Orca!Bucky, Marine Biologist!Steve

When marine biologist Steve Rogers helps to rescue an injured orca from the marine traffickers Hydra, he has no idea how his life will change. Once rehabilitated, the orca is released and disappears, and a despondent Steve throws himself into his work, only to feel a spark when a new volunteer arrives, a man with one arm and curiously familiar blue eyes.

Bucky has lived in the ocean his whole life. But when his family is killed and his sister captured by Hydra, he is forced to turn to humans for help. One human in particular intrigues him, a man by the name of Steve. As Bucky comes ashore to search for his sister, he finds himself falling for the man, but dangerous secrets still stand between them.

Includes clueless-about-humans Bucky, heart-eyes-Steve, and lots of Very Important rocks.

Innocent Until ♥ by L1av - Words: 136,866 | Lawyer!Bucky, Defendant!Steve, DS, BDSM, Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve

Bucky Barnes made a name for himself as the attorney who could get anyone off, but he still lives by the saying, "Innocent until proven guilty." Steve Rogers finds himself on trial for multiple homicides but he swears he was only trying to protect a girl. Bucky's been in this business long enough to know when someone's innocent, and Steve is innocent. Steve already feels like a monster and Bucky's worried this guy's going to lay himself on the sword come his trial. So Bucky offers up another course for punishment:

Turns out, chains and whips really excite Steve.

Brooklyn Syndrome ♥ by lordelannette - Words: 158,350 | DARKFIC, Dark!Steve (VERY DARK, heed the tags, you have been warned) Doctor!Steve, Writer!Bucky, Kidnapping, Slow Burn, Graphic Violence

Bucky's back was pressed against the cold floor and he stared through blurry eyes as Steve stood over him. He was trying to push himself as far away as he could, using his hands and bare feet to slide himself out from between Steve's legs but he couldn't find purchase against the wooden floor. Steve's legs were locked on both sides of his hips and Bucky couldn't move, couldn't get away, and the room was swimming before his eyes and he couldn't focus, couldn't think straight. All he could make out was the hazy figure of Steve towering over him and he lifted his arm to push uselessly at Steve's shin.

"P-please," Bucky whispered. His voice was weak, like him, and his jaw trembled as Steve reached down.

Steve slid down onto the floor and effortlessly gathered him into his strong arms, cradling Bucky to his chest as he leaned against the wall. "Bucky," Steve breathed. One of his large hands slid gently into Bucky's hair, the other curving against his spine and pulling him even closer. "You're mine now, remember?"

Steve's grip tightened then it all went black.

lay me down (tell me i've been found) by coffeeinallcaps - Words: 25,188 | Modern!AU, DS, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

The collar is a little on the heavy side, and incredibly soft against Bucky's skin. Even softer than he thought it would be. It seems to fit snugly, and for a second he feels like he can't breathe. Then, Steve slides two fingers under the collar and runs them along the inside, almost all the way around. Bucky shivers. Goose bumps spread down his back, his arms. "How does it feel?" Steve murmurs, hooking his fingers into the ring and giving a gentle tug on it. Bucky swallows. Nods.

(In which billionaire businessman Steve shows up and turns Bucky's life into an improbable fantasy.)

All Those Things You've Always Pined For by LavenderProse - Words: 92,142 | Family Man (2000) aka the Nicholas Cage movie AU, Domestic, Kid!Fic, PreSerum!Steve

“Steve Rogers. I haven’t thought about him in…God, at least ten years. Probably longer." “Who is he?” Sharon asks, and perches on the corner of his desk, hands folded in her lap. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Bucky clears his throat, tosses the sticky note onto the desk. “Steve was…my college boyfriend. We almost got married.”

It's been fifteen years since Bucky Barnes left Steve Rogers standing in a New York airport and never saw him again. Those fifteen years have brought him wealth and stability; everything his lower middle class Brooklyn upbringing had not provided. He is happy. He doesn't want for anything. He doesn't need anything. That's about to change.

Karma's A Fake Orgasm ♥ by daisymondays - Words: 51,637 | College!AU, Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor, Slow Burn

There’s another abandoned mug, festering with mould in the living room — Steve offically has the world's worst roommates. And complains about them. Often. Bucky, tired of his lack of action, decides it’s time to avenge Steve's sleepless nights and unsanitary conditions once and for all. They’ll pretend to be the world’s most annoying couple: excessive PDA, loud fake sex, and general repugnance. The plan sounds easy enough; it will be strictly platonic. Or will it?

I'll Be Your Shield by 17 pansies (17pansies) - Words: 23,332 | Bodyguard!Steve, Rich!Bucky, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

"If he's just minor nobility, why does he need a bodyguard?" Steve shoved the folder which held Barnes' details towards the middle of the table. "He's not exactly prime kidnap material."

"His parents aren't worried about kidnapping," Fury said. "They need someone to steer him away from the dumb ass situations he keeps getting into."

"You mean he needs a babysitter." Steve sat back and folded his arms. "Seriously."

I think this is a pretty diverse list :) There’s a good sample of everything here, some old fashioned post TWS recovery fics, some good dom steve/bucky, slow burns, fake pretend relationships and so forth!

PS: I’m on AO3 with more bookmarks plus my own hurt/comfort fics if anyone is interested :P

#stucky #stevebucky #bucky barnes x steve rogers #shrunkyclunks #stucky fanfiction #stucky fanfic rec #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction rec #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #modern au #canon divergence #marvel #my reclist #long post for ts

387 notes · View notes

ariadne-inthesky · 3 years ago

Text

I guess I owe you an explanation of why I’m on hiatus, why I will, for the moment, only answer a selected few people and all. Because I firmly believe in honesty and communication being the keys to a pleasant RP interaction. Also, note : I’m officially a homeowner, so I will still be more of a ghost here until I’m done with the renovations and moving in. I’m also travelling in June to see @smertzimy . And work is still kicking everyone’s ass.

It all can be summarised as “it became a chore” (and some people are toxic assholes). It became like a second job - and I know this is my fault because for so long (since I started RPing online, mind you, so around 2004), I prided myself in always finishing threads. In never dropping threads, in finishing storylines. I called myself a marathoner of RP. And it burned me out so many times…. I was hurt when people dropped threads or storylines with me. I was hurt when discussion boards died out. I was hurt when people on EFnet and IRCnet and MSN and Skype went awol or changed interest. It felt like I wasn’t working hard enough - a central theme of my life, really, not being enough, but I digress.

And then I went on tumblr and I tried so hard, all the time. And got into two big burnouts and a lot of smaller ones. It doesn’t help that I suffer from a case of being terminally online - I moved a lot in my life, lost a lot of connections and friendships and I’m slowly rebuilding it now that I am deemed worthy enough by capitalism - yes, I have a job ! A secure one ! Thus I have disposable income ! Thus I can go to places and see people ! Hell, in June I’m gonna see one of my best friends that I met on this hellsite ! And hopefully, in 2024, I will be able to see another best friend I met here ! But. As you see. My friends are online. I do have a few IRL friends around me though. But it’s easier online for me. Always been. But also, the culture on tumblr is - was, because with enough curating and introspection and a few excellent people I met, it got better. I can’t say if people are truly more laid back in the 2020s or if I just got better at selecting - the culture on tumblr was peculiar. A lot of contradictory messages about “caring for oneself” and “you should feel bad if you don’t put your RP partners over everything”. A lot of constant pressure and in some circles the drama. The frigging drama… Sometimes, just scrolling my dash was anxiety-inducing.

It didn’t help that I met a few unsavoury people - don’t get me wrong. I, too, did shitty stuff, said shitty things that I’m not proud of and if I do believe I’m still learning every day to be a less shitty person, as one should do - and one of them in particular had a long lasting influence on my mental health and the joy I felt in RPing here. I admit that I considered deleting this blog and Ariadne just so she would not hurt people because of me… And then I decided to hardblock her everywhere instead. Not gonna lie, life was so much more peaceful after that, but I still suffered from a lack of drive to RP. Again, it didn’t feel like a hobby, it felt like a job I wasn’t paid for - and with my real job kicking my ass because of its endless slew of technical problems, I still love it dearly, we’re just overworked… Well, it was too much. I have to accept I can’t please everyone and I’m not supposed to. I have to give a fair chance to everyone, but if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work and it’s normal and it’s being adult. I can’t keep up with always giving 100% on threads that have no storylines, are going nowhere or are dying out. I can’t give everyone 100% all the time because some storylines are more interesting than others because they were intensely plotted out or because we vibe so well with the Mun. And yes, I have favourites, Muns and Muses I prioritise first for a lot of reasons. Which doesn’t mean I will not try with others or that I dislike others, it’s just that I vibe more with some people and things are easier. And fuck, this is my blog. My OC. My Dune. I worked so hard to flesh Ariadne out, to create verses and AUs that are flexible to include a lot of people and not be that OC. I’ve been there since 2016, I’m allowed to be as selective, low and random activity as I want. If you’re not happy, go ahead. Soft/hard-block me. I will not be angry or disappointed or feel bad about it - this is the adult thing to do. People come and go. It’s not a sign of worthiness to exhaust yourself to please everyone. (if one special unsavoury toxic asshole is reading this : you’re not exhausting yourself to please others. Others have to bend to please you or you guilt-trip them while you give no shit about them and their characters. You’re everything you loudly bemoan in others. That’s why people leave you.)

I will be dropping threads that are in my drafts since 2021 and thread dropping will continue to happen in the long run.

I apologise for that, but I decided to prioritise my enjoyment and my mental health.

It’s a hobby.

Not a job.

#Trash Goblin's Ramblings

3 notes · View notes

wisdomdeath · 3 years ago

Text

Rants of a Sleepless Caffeineaholic #4

Now what?

Currently jobless and rejection piling on my inbox.

Remember when I kept on saying that all I wanted was to rest and to have time for writing but I couldn’t because I had a job that consumed my waking hours? Okay, well, now I don’t have a job to consume my time but here I am still ranting because I have all this time...but no income.

It would take a whole podcast for me to tell the tale of how I lost two jobs, both that I enjoyed doing but for semi-valid reasons, I lost them both. One lasted for five or six months, the other for two.

I know that sounds like I am simply defending myself and I must have done something entirely stupid or wrong for me to lose those jobs. I’ll make it quick. I’ll try.

The first one was a ghostwriting job. It took a while to get used to it since I had to compromise my personal writing style to fit what was needed for the projects. Later on, my editors and I were having a good time and we were able to finish a couple of books. But then this new editor arrives and for some reason, work didn’t seem fun at all. She had all these instructions but considering that she had a more strict outline than my other editors, it seemed easier since I just had to follow everything to a T (unlike my other editors who were more loose and so I had to improvise most of the time). Our project was a paranormal romance book and with that being my main genre, I thought it would be easier. I did my best to build the mood and the atmosphere only for my editor to tell me that it wasn’t doing good. I changed it again to fit her tone more but she was still unsatisfied. It was always a push-and-pull. I would make it sound paranormal, she wanted to make it more Disney. I would make it Disney, she would tell me it didn’t sound eerie. By that time, I was still working on a second book with a different editor and we were doing well so she was like my breath of fresh air. So I was surprised when the project head messaged me one day that they were already terminating my contract and that I no longer have a job the next day. Yep. THE NEXT DAY. Imagine my frustration. I asked if I could be transferred to a different project instead but they had decided.

What next?

I fell on a slump for months! I got rejections, one after the other. I was losing hope and for someone who has been overworked for the past years, I wasn’t used to not being overworked. The free time was not helping my mental state at the time because I felt useless. I only felt useful when I had a job. So I spiraled for the most parts of 2021.

Towards the end, around October...I was hired.

This time as a Proofreader for an online novel app, that I shall not name. But if you’re a friend of mine, you probably know what I’m talking about. Anyway, things were good until January 2022 kicked in. During the first or second week, my mom and my aunt (who was living with us at the time) got sick. What we didn’t know was they were most likely positive with the virus. But the test kits haven’t arrived and so we just tended to them as positive patients, and that meant having to step up and do some chores. So I did ask for a leave because I couldn’t work while trying to be more present in the house. The next week, when the kits have arrived, my mom and my aunt tested negative while I tested positive. I only had mild symptoms, mainly just cough. I was willing to work despite the virus but my boss didn’t allow me to...which made this all the more surprising. She messaged me one day that when I return, I will be demoted to a part-time position until I prove myself worthy to go back as a full-time Proofreader.

Once again, I had no job.

It had been a few months and honestly, it had been tiring. Sending in applications. Getting interviews. Getting rejected. Losing spirit. Breathing. Repeat.

I have a lot of projects that deserve my time right now but let’s be practical, I still need a job that has a stable income. It’s not like I’ll just be okay being unemployed. That’s not me.

I’m not stopping. I’m still sending in applications while I finish my projects.

But tonight, I am ranting because I’m in a bad depressive episode and I just want to let it all out before I actually sleep.

Yes, I sleep now...

Because it’s a temporary escape from all the frustrations and disappointments.

It’s a healthier escape rather than going back to bad habits.

For now, breathe.

#WisdomDeath #WisdomDeath story #caffeine addict #caffeineaholic #rambling of a sleepless caffeineaholic #rants #job hunt #job search #rejections #sleepless #sleeping more #just sleep #what is this mess #mental health #mental state #our mental health matters

4 notes · View notes

lornrocks · 3 years ago

Text

Okay I have a lot of deep thoughts on my commute every day and one I’ve been toying with lately is this idea that people who have grown up terminally online ?is that the right phrase?) and especially on places like Twitter and tumblr have almost like…invented a new sort of omnipotent deity that monitors them. A lot us don’t necessarily have religion these days (or are alienated from the one we were raised in) and yet I feel like some folks have filled that gap with this idea of being moral/ethical.

Which is a noble goal, to be sure! But like. When you are spending your whole life and all your time, even your time when you’re alone with your own thoughts, obsessing over what is problematic or not and what is ethical/moral or not and who you have an obligation to, you’re upholding a very Christian idea of morality and also you’re thought policing yourself.

I used to be worried that random folks on tumblr would judge me or call me out for my opinions, or if I admitted to liking something that is problematic, or if they found out I was buying from certain brands, or whatever. And I guess in the last few years it’s like…who gives a shit? Why am I acting like someone, somewhere, is keeping a tally of points for or against me? This isn’t the Good Place/Bad Place. I’m just one woman in a sea of billions.

I was raised catholic, I get it. I understand the idea that someone somewhere is nebulously judging you. But I guess it’s like…am I a bad person? What do I owe other people? Can I make a difference? Are things I’m doing performative? What does it matter, in the grand scheme of things? Is it hypocritical to shun chick-fil-a and then turn around and watch Disney+? Is it hypocritical to refuse to shop at Amazon or Walmart but to continue to shop at smith’s or target?

I don’t have answers to these questions. I’m not honestly sure I care, if I’m being brutally honest. As I said: maybe it makes me a bad person. But my friends, family, and coworkers literally could not give less of a shit about my moral quandaries or how I spend my time and money. I’m not in a hate group, I’m not donating money to neo nazis, I’m legit just watching tv and eating take out 90% of the time. I could do better. But god. I’m so fucking tired. I spent 18-30 trying to hard to make a difference and make all these choices and be a “good person” but what difference did it make?

I vote in the elections, I pay my taxes, I pay attention the world and local news and donate to charity and try to raise awareness but the world is so big and powerful people and governments are in charge and it feels like me getting huffy about shit like chicken restaurants and streaming services is pointless. Personal boycotts don’t do shit. Trash talking people on Twitter doesn’t do anything. We need change from the top down and the older I get, the less I believe it will happen in my lifetime.

I hope the youth are going to keep fighting but at this point I’m just…over it. Maybe I’m a “bad person”. Okay. Whatever, dude. I’ll keep voting and donating and stuff like that but I’m not going to act like demon Adam Scott is out there keeping tabs on every single decision I make, because again…what’s the point?

#idk man #it’s hard for my to articulate what I mean #it’s like in the absence of an omnipotent deity #online folks have created their own deity #which judges their every thought and action #but they’re just policing each other like they’re judge frollo or something #isn’t there a whole speech in the good place about what we owe each other??

4 notes · View notes

oraclememehacker · 3 years ago

Text

Futaba sat there at her computer, looking at one of her monitors, just staring at the bright screen with a blank expression on her face. She was still recovering from her stalking incident and then she got a surprise series of messages from someone she hadn’t talked to in a while. Well, it wasn’t them, but it was a friend of theirs, confirming something that she had known but forgotten. That they had died. A small lump formed in her throat as she re-read the messages.

[xFeathermanFanx]: Hey Alibaba, this is one of Pink’s friends. Sorry that we haven’t gotten in touch with you. It took us a while to get access to this account since she didn’t exactly give us the password. She meant to but forgot. Anyways, I’m sure you know what I’m about to tell you. [xFeathermanFanx]: Pink died two weeks ago and her funeral was yesterday. As you know, she was diagnosed with an advanced form of Osterosarcoma a couple of years ago. By the time it was detected she was already declared terminal and there wasn’t anything they could do. [xFeathermanFanx]: She was expected to only live about 2 years, but she lived almost two and a half years, apparently because of you, or at least partially because of you. She talked about you a lot irl. She said there was this person she talked to online a lot that was incredibly knowledgeable about computers, hacking and anything technical. [xFeathermanFanx]: Apparently she had a crush on you at some point but never acknowledged it. I know that’s awkward but I just wanted to make sure that you knew that. Anyways, she wanted to give you a few things before she died but with her failing health she wasn’t able to use her computer as much. [xFeathermanFanx]: *Pink.jpg* *Note.jpg* [xFeathermanFanx]: Anyways, I hope you are doing well Alibaba. She talked about how depressed you were and were clearly in a lot of pain. I hope your life has changed for the better.

This was the first time that she ever saw her, since they didn’t really share pictures of each other for obvious reasons. It was a young woman in the hospital who had a pink wig on and was holding a peace sign as she laid in a hospital bed. So this is what she looked like. There was definitely times when she wasn’t around thanks to her disease which was understandable, but there was a sudden rush of emotions that coursed through her. If only things were different, maybe she could’ve been there for her since she lived in Tokyo...

Note: If you’re reading this Alibaba, then I’m dead. I have to write this with text to speech because of how much my body hurts nowadays. I can barely get out of bed let alone do anything. I just wanted to let you know that I’m glad I could be considered someone you trusted, when you said you couldn’t trust anyone. I know you must be going through a lot of pain. You never said what happened but I imagine it must’ve been very difficult. I’m sorry.

But you are a very smart girl and I admired your skills. How you were able to do so much stuff like that, I think you have a wonderful future ahead of you. I just hope you can get some real friends who care and love you no matter what. Don’t worry about me, and don’t mourn for me either. Apparently I was put on this earth just to die early. Cruel life, but I accepted that. Thank you for talking to me, and I won’t ever forget you. - Pink

Reading through this and seeing the picture again made tears well up in her eyes, and soon enough they were running down her cheeks, and hitting her desk. Why was she getting so emotional over someone who she didn’t really know all that well during her time as a neet, none of this really made any sense to her, but yet she was. If only things were different, maybe they could’ve been true friends. But alas, that was long gone now. “Thank you Pink, for everything.”

#Musing #A Hacker Strikes at any Time (Persona 5/Strikers)#death tw #The Oracle Navi (Futaba Sakura IC)#Short Stories (Drabbles)

3 notes · View notes

simplybakugou · 4 years ago

Text

Dial Tone

↝ Following the death of your sister you have a habit of texting her phone number in an attempt to ease the pain you’re feeling. After some time, someone finally responds to your texts.

BINGO SPACE: Wrong Number

⋆ PAIRING: prohero!kirishima x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: slight angst; talks about the death of a loved one; fluff ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2818

A/N: yes this is another @bnhabookclub bingo piece lmao. this was inspired by the time that i received a text from a dad who had told me his late daughter owned my phone number and it broke my heart. i’ve seen similar stories to this on twitter and i wanted to do my own spin on it but through a fic!

thank you to the anon who requested for kirishima for this prompt! and the transparent kirishima cap in the banner is from the bnha bookclub google drive.

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 08.15.2020✐

The air felt heavy as it usually did whenever you visited that dark and eerie place the same time every month. The sky was filled with dark grey clouds and soft rain droplets began pelting your body as you clapped your hands and bowed your head in front of the tombstone. You rose to your feet, placing the fresh bouquet of flowers you had purchased in front of the urn beside the tombstone and dusted off the dirt on your kneecaps.

Each raindrop harshly attacked you as they fell as soon enough you were drenched as you walked towards your car, your tears melding with the droplets streaking your cheeks. Finally you arrived by your car, sitting in the driver’s side as the leather seat became wet from your body.

This time of the month was always the hardest for you, the suffocating feeling that always remained in your chest never left since you had visited your sister’s grave.

Nonetheless you knew you had to keep moving on, knowing that if you sat around with your thoughts you would just make yourself more upset than you already were. You started your vehicle and pulled out of the cemetery and onto the main road, making your way home.

Although it didn’t seem like it, life wasn’t always so miserable for you. There was a time when you were happy, a time where you could look back at with adoration.

When you were starting high school, you were attending the esteemed U.A. High, pursuing your dream of becoming a hero just as every other kid your age attending a hero school was aspiring to do. Your parents had both passed away in a car accident when you were young and you were left in your older sister, (S/N)’s care. She supported you all the way, acting as the mother and father you had no memory of but desperately wanted as you could only feel envious of the other kids who had their parents attend all of their ceremonies and functions.

But it wasn’t so bad, having your sister supporting you as best as she could to make do with the unfortunate situation you were both put in.

Although things were bright for a short period of time, you were granted a heartbreaking and life changing call one day after school. You were just about to finish up your first year at U.A. and if constantly dealing with the League of Villains or schoolwork wasn’t enough, you found out about (S/N) having a terminal disease.

The doctors gave you and your sister their condolences, explaining that (S/N) was undergoing a disease as a result of her quirk not being able to maintain her body as it was slowly killing her from the inside out. Since you were informed of this unfortunate event, you dropped out of the hero course in U.A., having to pursue a part time job on top of taking online classes to balance paying for your sister’s medical bills as well as wanting to still be able to have a high school diploma (even if it wouldn’t be as a hero).

It broke your heart to have to leave your friends and not be able to chase after your biggest dream but nothing meant more to you than your sister’s health. She had taken care of you for so long; now it was your turn to return the favor.

Although you had left U.A. High, your friends that you had gotten quite close to made sure to visit the hospital in which you were temporarily staying at from time to time after school. Sero, Kirishima, Mina, and Kaminari were the ones who visited the most and they would even get Bakugou to come along on certain days as well. It made you feel reassured to have people being there for you during a difficult time in your life.

But as the years passed and your previous classmates graduated, their frequent visits turned to occasional texts here and there as their lives took a full 180 as they were thrusted into the craziness that comes with being a pro hero. You understood the position they were in and would often watch the news with your sister, feeling proud as you heard story after story of your friends saving people during their times of need.

Unfortunately with time, (S/N) lost her long battle with her terminal disease and even though you knew it was bound to happen, there was no way you would ever be able to subsidize the pain you were feeling following her passing.

For the longest time you felt alone and there were times you still felt bedridden with sorrow and desolation, still feeling the pain of your sister’s passing as it had only been a year since her death.

In order to feel somewhat at peace, you would still text your sister’s old phone number everyday. When you were still in school and she was looking after you, you had to let her know if you were eating, what time you got home, and things in this similar nature as (S/N) was often working and wanted to check up on you when you were home alone. This became a force of habit and you didn’t want to stop, using this new texting method as a way for you to settle your own mind and give yourself some peace by not breaking this procedure that your sister had you do.

You would even call her phone every now and then, wanting to hear her sweet voice through her voicemail. It was silly, you knew it was, but this was the only thing that was keeping you sane. When you lose someone you love in your life, someone who was by your side at all times, they don’t dissipate in thin air right when they die. You lose them slowly. From when you wake up and realize breakfast isn’t ready or when you realized you didn’t have anyone to talk to, that’s when it hits you. Your sister was gone and now you had to learn how to live without her.

You pulled into the parking lot of the bookstore, letting out a sigh as you exited the vehicle. The first day of every month for the past year since your sister died you would visit her grave for a little chat. It gave you a peace of mind to be able to speak with her in what seemed like the closest thing to “a talk in person” as you could. Sometimes texting her number or listening to her voicemail on repeat wasn’t enough.

“(L/N)! You’re here!” Aiko, one of your employees, exclaimed as you walked inside. “I thought you weren’t going to come in today.”

You shrugged, slipping off your soaked coat onto the hanger by the front desk. “I didn’t feel like staying home alone so I might as well sell some books instead.”

Aiko nodded, getting up to put back some misplaced books that customers had strewn around randomly. You sat down as she went to the back, leaning back in your chair as you stared up at the ceiling.

The emptiness inside you, a feeling that you had grown accustomed to by now no matter how much it hurt, felt stronger than usual that day. You pulled your phone out from your pocket, sending a quick message to your sister to let her know you had gotten to work safely. Within minutes, just as you were about to put your phone away and get to work, the usual “delivered” sign under your message changed into “read,” indicating that someone had seen your message. That’s weird… maybe a glitch?

Still it was unsettling so you decided to call (S/N)’s number, waiting patiently as the phone began to ring. With each ring your suspicions lessened as you assumed the read receipt was a mistake. Just as you were about to hang up, you could hear someone pick up their phone from the other line.

“Hello?” A man’s voice asked from the other side and you nearly slipped off your chair from shock, not expecting to hear a live voice. You immediately hung up, looking back at your sister’s number as you were completely discombobulated from what had happened. You assumed that one of these days (S/N)’s number would be given to another person but you still were taken aback to hear another person’s voice.

***

The events from the day before were quickly vanished from your mind as you had to tend to customers right after the mysterious man picked up your call. You returned home, already tired from visiting your sister and working the whole day didn’t help with that. You even sent the number a message about what you had eaten for dinner, the lack of a reply making you forget once again.

In fact, you couldn’t even remember what had happened yesterday as you absentmindedly texted (S/N) as you usually did.

Y/N: I’m heading out. Hopefully today will be better than yesterday. Love you and I miss you!

Just as you hit the “send” button for the message, realization sets in as you wanted to smack yourself for forgetting that another person had gotten the number. Right when you were about to send an apology message, the unknown man sent you a message back.

MAN: Um… Who is this?

You were quick to write up an explanation.

Y/N: Sorry, my older sister used to own this phone number. She used to make me text her whenever I ate or left the house so I got used to sending these messages. She passed away a year ago and I still send the texts. I’m sorry for bothering with these silly texts. You won’t have to deal with them from now on.

You sent your explanation, deciding to delete the messages and shoving your phone into your pocket. It was nice to maintain this habit of yours while it lasted but it was time to let bygones be bygones. You didn’t bother to read the man’s response as you left for another day of work.

***

The rest of the day passed like every other day did, slow and filled with your own loneliness. You bowed to and thanked your last customer of the day and let out a big sigh as you began closing up the shop, putting away any books dispersed around the shelves and taking the cash from the register.

You turned the small TV in the corner off as well, smiling at the sight of Bakugou and Kaminari finishing up a mission and successfully catching a villain as they were acknowledged for their bravery on the news. You couldn’t express how proud you felt when you saw your friends, or any of your classmates really, on the news for their achievements as they continued to save as many people as they possibly could.

Just as you were grabbing your things to leave, your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced at it, furrowing your brows at the sign of your sister’s name, which you still hadn’t removed from your contacts, sending you a message.

MAN: Did you eat dinner?

You were beyond puzzled. Did he mean to send this to you?

Y/N: I think you have the wrong number…

MAN: You’re the one who sent me a message about my number belonging to my sister, right?

How odd… It wasn’t a mistake then.

Y/N: Yes, that’s me. But why did you ask if I ate dinner?

MAN: Oh well I saw your text from two nights ago talking about what you ate for dinner. At first I didn’t think about it but then you explained why you texted this number and I just wanted to know if you ate dinner? Since you usually let your sister know if you did.

You smiled at the message. Whoever this man was, he seemed genuine and considerate.

Y/N: You’re very sweet. You don’t have to worry about those texts I used to send. It was a force of habit and I won’t bother you with them again.

He almost immediately responded.

MAN: Don’t worry about that. I’m gonna take that as you didn’t eat dinner.

You didn’t reply initially as you were trying to figure this guy out and before you could muster up a response, he beat you to it.

MAN: From your area code you must be from Musutafu, too. This might be a lot but do you want to grab some dinner? There’s a great place on the intersection by U.A. High School.

The request was definitely an odd one. You’d never been asked out in this manner, then again it was rare to be asked out like this, but you didn’t want to say no. The mystery man seemed nice and it would be good for you to actually make a friend instead of being alone all day long. If it weren’t for Aiko or your customers, you probably wouldn’t meet another human at all.

Y/N: That sounds nice. Can we meet in an hour if that works for you?

MAN: Sounds good! I get off work then so I’ll see you soon.

***

It got colder just an hour after you closed the bookstore. Miniscule snowflakes fell from the sky, littering the roads and the outside with a white blanket. You waited outside the restaurant that the mystery man told you about. As it was close by U.A. you and your close friends would stop by after school so you knew exactly where he was talking about. You smiled as the memories of the times you spent with your friends whom you missed dearly flooded your mind, reminding you about how lonely you truly were now.

A shiver went down your spine as you rubbed your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up. You checked your phone for the time, realizing that he was an hour late. Maybe he got busy at work, you told yourself as you let out a sigh, preparing to leave and go home.

“Hey!” A voice called out from down the road. You turned to the source of the sound, squinting through the snowflakes as you identified a man waving at you with his blinding red hair being the one thing that stuck out like a sore thumb.

As he got closer and closer and you got a better look at his face, your eyes widened as you realized who the man was. “Kirishima?”

Kirishima stood in front of you, giving you a perplexed expression. Usually when people recognized him, they addressed him as Red Riot due to his popularity as a pro hero. But there was something about you that seemed so familiar, something that he couldn’t quite figure out. “Do we know each--” He stopped mid sentence as his eyes grew into the shape of saucers. “Y/N?!”

Before you could say anything else, Kirishima’s face lit up as he was stoked to finally see his old friend again. “How have you been? You look great! Even better than how you did back in U.A.!”

“T-Thank you.” You grew flustered, not expecting to be praised in such a manner. “So you’re the one who got my sister’s number?”

“Yeah. I had to get it changed after a fan ended up leaking my number and I kept getting a ton of messages from random people,” Kirishima said with a laugh, rubbing the nape of his neck sheepishly. His expression faltered into a more serious one as he glanced down at you. “And I'm sorry to hear about your sister. I know she meant a lot to you and I should’ve visited you guys more after graduation.”

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy being a hero and all.”

He looked down at you, taking his scarf from his neck and wrapping it around yours. You looked up at him, moving to remove the fabric from around your neck. “Oh no, it’s okay. You don’t have to—”

“You look cold. It’s the least I can do for making you wait so long.” Kirishima smiled, wrapping the end of the scarf over your shoulder once more. “Well I’m glad to see that you’re okay. To be honest I did miss you after all this time.”

Kirishima opened the door to the restaurant, gesturing for you to go in. “Come on, we can catch up over dinner.” You grinned, entering the building as he followed suit.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt genuinely happy like this and you couldn’t ask for a better person to bring back the happiness that you had been lacking in your life for quite some time.

If you’d like to be added to my taglist, please join here!

Taglist: @pinkcowgirleggpanda @xtsundere-princess @wesparklebitch @hot-pocket01 @iamthe-leaf @ahrininetales @kirisclementine @happygalaxymilkshake @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @entraptas-kid-sister @mirakeul @thatpeachybandgirl @lmaobroccoli @anastar-legion @lowermoons @mykuronekome @susu-chan @selfship-mishaps

#kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #Kirishima Eijirou #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines

202 notes · View notes

dualitysdownfall · 3 years ago

Text

No I Will Not “Just Unplug” (a ramble)

[tl;dr: sometimes the internet is a shitty place but we don’t have to completely throw it away, we can still enjoy it and spend a lot of time there, we just have to focus on what matters most at any given moment. sometimes that does mean engaging with doom-and-gloom type stuff or discourse, but sometimes it just means finding things we enjoy and taking care of our mental states. what is often called “terminally online” topics/discourse is really a matter of forgetting that that topic doesn’t really matter irl. you can be online a lot without being “terminally online” if you focus on stuff that actually matters to you, whatever that may be, not necessarily in the activism sense, but also just things that make you happy.]

i am very Online.

most of today i spent on tumblr. most of yesterday i spent on tumblr. as of typing this i have another day’s worth of queued reblogs. i spend so much time on tumblr and twitter it isn’t even funny.

so many people say “we all need to unplug” “go touch grass” “let’s just quit entirely”

this is a message that stems from wanting to get away from the sheer toxicity that can be found on social media, which is undeniable and i can appreciate the message for that reason. but every time i hear it, my gut instinct is “hell no.”

for one thing, i couldn’t stay off socials if i tried. i get bored very easily. if i’m not fully focused on something, my optimum state of being is at least two things happening at once. so checking my phone while i watch something is basically an autopilot action for me at this point.

but for another thing, it’s like, my main connection to the world. even pre-pandemic. to be brief, i’m autistic and have trouble making friends in a face-to-face setting. online, i can just seek out the communities based on my interests and i have done so and therefore formed mutuals and friendships based on fandoms and identities. it would be so much harder to find in my irl spaces someone who i could tell that i like homestuck and deltarune and i’m autistic and asexual and agender but i use all pronouns, and they would just Get It the way you probably Get It if you’re reading this. the way my friends and partner Get It. the way i only Get It because i learned about things like gender and neurodivergence from tumblr.

so i can’t just abandon the internet. it’s where i can be fully openly myself.

but what about all the bad shit? and boy there is a lot of bad shit.

well, it’s kind of hard to avoid. tag filtering helps but i mostly use it for fandoms i’m not in (no offense intended to those fandoms, there are just sometimes a lot of posts that may be long). and some topics, like national/global news, i feel obligated to stay up to date on because i’m not going to hear about it anywhere else and i want to do good things where i can, or at least know what the right thing is.

but sometimes it is just too much.

sometimes the terf lady is trending again, and sometimes some new project comes out that’s about autism but actually supports eugenics ideology, and sometimes the fandom i follow is full of discourse and conflict, and sometimes governements are terrible (lol jk that’s all the time), and sometimes i do a stupid thing and some asshat who doesn’t understand what autism is starts picking on me in the replies. the times we are facing seem increasingly bleak, which makes it so much more glaringly obvious that when the internet allows us to hear from all over the world it allows us to hear a world’s worth of pain and suffering and our individual psyches just are not meant to handle that.

i cannot leave the internet. i don’t want to, and even if i did i would be worse off for it.

but i can know my limits and enforce boundaries on myself.

i am not obligated to be an activist and an informer for every shithead in the replies. i am not obligated to engage with literally anyone. i do not have to look at what i don’t want to look at. social media can be entertainment and escape, and i am free to curate my experience to align with that. i can handle exactly what i’m capable of handling and if i can’t handle something, who cares ignore it go do something else.

the way people say we should all just quit social media and we’d all be so much healthier if we unplugged... the way they say as if social media is nothing but a drain on our minds and causes only damage... just strikes me the wrong way. i mean, i can say from experience that it can be incredibly healing to just focus on something irl with the people around you for a few hours, but i couldn’t do that forever. and the internet has taught me so much, and it brings me so many things to smile about.

the key is balance.

the trouble with the people y’all are calling “Terminally Online” is that they get so tied up in intense discourse about micro-issues or whatever the hell else they do that they don’t seem to grasp that none of that shit is important. none of it matters in the real world.

i don’t like discourse as i can’t argue for shit and get very stressed in instances of conflict, so i imagine the online problems that trouble me are more tangible in the real world than meaningless micro-arguments. but they are tangible on the large scale. i do not have to be working for large-scale change all the goddamn time. i can take some time to bake cookies with my siblings or whatever, and most if not all of the things that trouble me while i’m online don’t fucking matter at all.

they’re allowed to matter at times. but they do not need to matter all the time.

there is such an emphasis, on social media, to know EXACTLY who and what you are and to know EXACTLY where you stand on every topic and to ALWAYS be showing who you are and where you stand.

you don’t have to know, and even if you do know, you don’t have to show it all the time.

it’s good to call out issues when you see them. it’s good to help spread the word. it’s good to help teach people about marginalized identities and how to show acceptance and support. but those things take energy, and eventually your energy will run out, and it’s ok to skip past an activism post because you’re just here to look at memes, or to give up trying to teach someone why the gender binary is bad because they’re a stubborn asshole, or to just do a craft or go someplace and not think about the internet at all.

i think that the issue lies not in “the internet is terrible” and more in “we need to take a step back and think about whether what we’re about to do really matters”. sharing my artwork with a fandom can matter to me. arguing with some stubborn dipshit in youtube comments about kris deltarune’s pronouns does not have to matter to me. spreading kindness and happiness matters to me, and sometimes that takes the form of advocating for marginalized identities, and sometimes it takes the form of posting a joke or a pretty picture for the sake of simple smiles, and sometimes what really matters is making sure that i’m happy too.

we don’t need to get rid of the internet. it’s not killing our brains just by virtue of existing. we just need to care about what matters to us. and some internet things do matter to me, like seeing wonderful fanart or funny videos, and reading about interesting things that exist in the world or how to avoid being shitty to a minority, and shouting my thoughts into the void, and replying to my mutuals’ shouted void-thoughts in the hopes that i can bring them a smile. sometimes the shit the internet brings with it doesn’t matter to me as much as letting in the sunlight or hugging my siblings or going somewhere with the people i care about. and that’s fine too.

i guess what i mean is, we can have it both ways.

i’m not even saying that people are commonly saying we can’t. i guess i just need to teach myself the lesson over and over again, that when given a choice between A and B, the answer is probably both or neither. (see: my romantic orientation, my gender, how long it takes me to grasp morally gray characters, my tendency to like media that i describe as “goodbad”, the list goes on)

i’m not Too Online. my sense of humor might indicate otherwise, but i know my limits and i know when i’ve had too much doom and gloom, and i can just go watch tv or eat dinner or maybe even (gasp!) hang out outside. it’s fine for my current emotional state to matter more than reading about widespread bigotry or whatever. and you know what? i can still come right back online later. and that’s fine too.

i guess i mostly wrote this for me. if you read the whole thing, wow. good for you i guess? did you take anything away from this?

#harper babbles #i tried to make there be a steady train of thought throughout by i myself lost it while writing so idk #idrk what my point was and i already forgot why i wanted to write about it

4 notes · View notes