#why do i choose things that hurt me to love

[galactic-magick]

I Love You, I'm Sorry: Viktor x Reader

Based off of this reply on my last Viktor fic:

@lillycore : Duddee, imagine after the final scene between Viktor and Jayce they just disappear (I refuse to believe they both died, I’m just going believe, until it’s confirmed, that they simply teleported somewhere else), leaving reader alone without a chance to confront Viktor and believing they both died. So now, reader is left to pick up the pieces of her closest friend and love of her life gone, while believing Viktor no longer loves her (he does though, he was just a little confused with everything, but he still loves her)

Words: 1.2k

Author's Notes: Thank you all so much for the notes and kind words on my last Viktor fic, it truly means the world to me as a writer to see so many people touched by my writing. I hope you enjoy this equally devastating part 2.

They’re gone. They’re really gone.

No family, no friends, not a single loved one of yours survived this damn war. All this world has done is take, take, take.

You’re haunted by the last time you saw your beloved Viktor—completely unrecognizable. He had turned himself into a monster, disappearing with Jayce trying to save him. You didn’t even get to say goodbye, you didn’t even get to tell him you still love him.

Or ask if he still loved you.

You don’t know what would hurt less, believing he stopped loving you, or believing he did everything he did while loving you.

-

“Why can’t she hear me?” Viktor shouts into the void. He’s been calling your name for what feels like an eternity, his voice no longer carrying to your world.

Jayce puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, “You don’t have vessels to speak through anymore. She probably thinks we’re dead. Well, maybe we are…”

“No, no, this can’t be the end,” Viktor shakes his head vigorously. “I have to get back to her. She...she needs to know I love her. She needs to know I’m sorry.”

He falls to his knees amongst the stars, cursing himself for everything. How could he choose the hexcore over you? Why didn’t he seek you out when he survived the explosion? How did he let himself descend so far into madness that he forgot about your importance to him?

He’s now desperate for you to hear him, pleading the forces that bind his consciousness to this astral plane for another chance. He searches this dimension he’s come to know so well, looking for a loophole or tear in the fabric, but it’s no use. Everything has been closed—his supposed eternal consequence for his abuse of power.

Jayce saved him from himself, a feat he will forever be indebted to him for, but what is the point of redemption if he cannot live it out in his own flesh?

Would there have been a body left for him anyway? Would you still have loved him as the monstrosity he became?

Why must he still be cursed with the full vision of the universe? He sees you continue your life so clearly, but he can’t touch you, can’t speak to you. Your form shines the brightest light he’s ever seem in this dimension, an achievement that is not easily matched. He wonders if you can feel him reaching out to you, some sort of spiritual pull back to him. He will do anything to find a way to talk to you again.

-

You’ve been having dreams—dreams you can’t explain. Ever since Viktor’s disappearance, he’s tormented you day and night, constantly occupying your thoughts without mercy. You can hear his voice, but it sounds so far away you can never make out the words. You just wish it would all stop. You wish you could just erase him and all of the pain from your memory.

Sometimes you still feel a presence, the feeling you used to feel when he was in the same vicinity with you, admiring you from across a room. It’s a familiar warmth that used to wash you with peace, whereas now it makes your heart ache. You suppose it’s a normal symptom of grief, subconsciously denying that he’s really gone.

You start to go through his things he left at your house, beginning with his various textbooks and notebooks he would bring over for studying. Seeing his scribbles and handwriting again brings tears to your eyes, a single drop falling onto the paper as you read.

You blink a few times, seeing a couple of letters on the page start to glow. You must be seeing things, hallucinating from sleep deprivation. You close the journal and open it again, but the glowing letters are still there.

You grab a separate piece of paper and write down each glowing letter, finding fifteen total.

“I - L-O-V-E - Y-O-U - I-M - S-O-R-R-Y”

This isn’t happening. It can’t be.

-

“It’s working! She got my message!” Viktor exclaims.

“How...how are you doing that?” Jayce asks.

“Tiny rips in space—not big enough for either of us to escape through—but certainly big enough to briefly touch that reality,” Viktor pauses, still waiting for a response from you, but it doesn’t come.

-

You close the journal and sob, praying for an end to this misery. Your mind is playing tricks on you, deceiving you to a level you never thought possible. Must you be haunted by this forever? Must you endure the aftermath of this trauma?

You open it once again, the letters still glowing, but they start to fade right in front of your eyes. A new set of letters begin to glow, so you write those down as well.

“I-T-S - M-E - D-A-R-L-I-N-G”

And then another set of letters.

“P-L-E-A-S-E - T-A-L-K - T-O - M-E”

Maybe you’re not imagining.

You’ve heard of magicians who can converse with the dead, and the possibility of other dimensional planes and universes. Viktor himself had some theories about it, although he never pursued proving them. Could it really be possible that your beloved was speaking to you?

“Viktor?” you say out loud. “Are you...are you alive?”

“I - D-O-N-T - K-N-O-W”

The pencil drops from your hand again as your head falls to the table. His consciousness is somehow alive, clearly, but there’s no way he can explain to you where he is and how to get him out one letter at a time. You’re nowhere near his level of intellect—even if he explained how to rescue him like you’re five years old—you fear you still would mess something up.

“Viktor...I can’t do this. You can’t do this to me,” you sigh, daring to look at the words again. “You abandoned me, and now my life is a living hell because of the destruction you helped cause. I want nothing to do with your war and stupid glorious evolution. So if you’re not here to take me away from this life, please go away.”

The same original words start glowing again, brighter each time they sequence:

I love you, I’m sorry.

I love you, I’m sorry.

I love you, I’m sorry.

“Love doesn’t do what you did. Love doesn’t abandon its humanity for power.”

Please forgive me.

“I do forgive you for everything, Viktor. That’s exactly why I need to forget about you, because I will never stop loving you and hurting for it if I don’t.”

With blurry eyes, you close the journal and throw it into the fireplace, regretting it almost immediately. You grab a stick and pull it out, your tears falling onto the soot-stained cover.

“Please, just...find a way back to me.”

I will.

[creativity-deficient]

“South Park is a satirical show that goes after everybody and at the end of the day is meant to make you laugh and not be taken seriously” and “south park jokes about sensitive topics that hit close to home for a lot of people and it’s absolutely valid to feel uncomfortable by some of it” are statements that should be able to co-exist tbh

[yougavememyopia]

Tags: Loser stalker fem reader, cocky mean dom yandere, dubcon 18+, choking, lot of force, grinding

◇◇♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡◇◇

"What the fuck are you doing?"

You jumped, flinching so hard that made your spine hurt. Cursing under your breath, you hesitantly turned back to look at the familiar face.

Jun was standing there with his arms crossed, glaring at you with scolding eyes. Every day, you hid behind the corner that faced the field. It was mostly empty except for the cute artsy kid that sat there. He would lean against the tree, sketching, and you would be there watching his profile.

"Um..." Your words died down in your throat. Jun could easily tell what you were doing. Stalking a poor boy who had no idea his classmate was obsessed with him. "Hi?"

"Hi?" He repeated unamused, stepping closer to corner you against the wall. "You've been avoiding me. You're not answering any of my texts. I said I wanted to have lunch with you today, but you ditched me to do this?"

You stood there. You would feel guilty, but your brain was too busy searching for excuses or ways to explain this situation. This looked back. Really bad.

A few moments passed with you looking at the floor, feeling the cold wall behind you. Jun clicked his tongue, shifting his gaze from you to the boy in the field.

You exhaled, trying to think of a way to preserve your dignity. "I know it's wrong... It's creepy and weird. But you have to understand-"

"Oh, I understand. I get it. You're trying to find love. Isn't that right?"

"Uh... I guess that's the end goal. But-"

He interrupted you again. "You're tired of being lonely and isolated. Which is why you're pushing the person who wanted to be your friend away."

"No, that's not..." You paused. "Sorry.."

"Instead of being with me, you're choosing that clumsy, pathetic piece of-"

You interrupted him this time. "Ethan. His name is Ethan. And he's perfect. He keeps to himself most of the time, just like me. We have a lot in common..."

He went quiet for a second, uncrossing his arms and putting them in his pocket. "You completely ruined my plans, y'know... I was trying so hard to take all of this slow. I was gonna have lunch with you, eventually ask you out on a date, and go from there. While you were here doing the same thing to another boy."

You blinked. Was he confessing to you? You were suspicious when the golden boy of the school wanted to be your friend, and now this?

"Excuse me?"

"Oh yeah. I was gonna bring you to your favorite café and treat you. But you clearly don't want all that normal healthy stuff, huh?"

"Uhh.." You just looked at him, looking from his gorgeous eyes to his flawless hair. Then, to the strong looking arms that came up to the wall behind you. "You're kidding."

"But I'm afraid that my intentions weren't all that pure. I was going to give you so much that you'll completely become dependent on me. And I could have you as mine forever."

"Were you stalking me? Is that how you found me here?" You slowly said, a bit unsure.

"Such a smart girl." Jun praised, bringing a hand to cup your cheek, caressing his thumb against your skin. "I'm just as sick as you."

You gripped his wrist, stopping him. "I need to think about this first."

"What is there to think about? Forget about that shy mutt. I'm so much better than him. What else could you possibly ask for?"

You shook your head, pushing his shoulders weakly. "No. Just move away..!"

"I get it. You need more convincing."

And just as he said that, his lips crashed into yours. He forced a kiss on you and grabbed the back of your head. He guided you to kiss him back, using your hair to manipulate you like a puppet. You stood there and let it happen, your hands moving down to press against his chest.

He licked your bottom lip, which you kept closed. You were unsure of what to make of this situation.

"Just open your mouth, okay? I want to kiss you deeper." He tilted his face to the right and forced you to tilt yours the other way. "I don't like repeating myself. Don't make me force you. I'm trying to prove a point here. You're mine, whether you like it or not. You wanted something unhealthy, well here it is."

You didn't want to oblige. There was something inside you that wanted to fight him. You gasped as Jun tugged your hair harshly, catching you by surprise. His tongue invaded your mouth. You tried to pull away, but your back was against the wall. There was nowhere to go. You started to like how he forced you to this. You wanted to be kissed since a long time ago. Just hadn't expected it to be from the overly confident and arrogant jerk.

His tongue moved around skillfully. You unintentionally moaned, feeling him smirk against your lips. The weird sensation felt good. You slowly closed your eyes and kissed back, shyly moving your tongue against his. His other hand went down to rest on your waist. He pulled you closer to him. Your bodies slightly rubbed against each other.

You were out of breath. Panting, still wanting to kiss him more. He tasted so so good. Like cherries. Maybe he ate some before this.

"You still there, sweetie? You look dazed. Was it that good?" Jun chuckled. He knew the effect he had on you. "I told you. I'm the greatest choice you'll ever make."

"I can't believe this..." That was all you could mumble. Your heart still throbbed for Ethan, but it wasn't really an option anymore. This was... something else. Something you could get used to. "I can't believe it..."

"I know, you're very lucky. Not everyone has an amazing, skillful boyfriend. Soon, you'll be addicted to me and my kisses."

He stroked the back of your hair, almost apologizing for pulling it before. Before you could protest against the term, he kissed you again, rubbing his tongue against yours lewdly. You obliged, not thinking much of it. It felt too good to pass up on.

"Want me to you some of these skills?" He whispered in your ear, blowing air on it. You squeaked, and he chuckled. "Your reactions are so cute, darling. I want to see more. I want more of you. Your taste, your smell, your everything. You're mine. I can just take whatever I want, right?"

Jun clicked his tongue in impatience. He started to kiss down your neck, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pinned them against the wall. "I wanted to take things slow. Even after all this. But I feel like you need a bit more convincing, hm?"

He licked a spot of your skin before biting down on it. You hissed in pain as he continued to angrily mark you. It seemed like he was jealous of what happened earlier. He sucked the spots he bit for a moment before pushing his thigh between your legs. "I swear if you lie eyes on that guy again, I'll cut his legs off."

You felt dizzy. All this was too much for you. Your head was spinning, and you felt really good. Small hushed moans spilled from your lips when his knee rubbed you up and down. His hands sneaked up your shirt, hands caressing whatever skin he could find. "There we go. I can tell you're enjoying it. I mean.. Naturally."

You could feel his eyes bore on you, but you barely looked at him. Drowning in ecstasy while he kissed you again and again. You felt yourself getting closer to the edge. You gripped his shirt, clenching it in your fist.

He passionately kissed you again as you came, moaning into his mouth. He slowed down before stopping. A grin on his face. He looked so hot like this.

"Good girl! Oh sweetie~ Look how hard you made me."

You look down to see the buldge forming in his jeans. He rubs it against your thigh, trying to provoke more reactions out of you.

"Aww, you're shaking... Could it be you actually want to touch it?" He teased, rubbing it higher to your still sensitive spot.

"W-what? Nngh.. No! I never even agreed to be your girlfriend." He grips one of your wrists, putting it on the front of his pants. You yelp, trying to stop him. "No! Stop. We're in public!"

You paused at the realization. You tried to think of how loud you were, but the image just sent pleasure back to your core.

"We're behind an isolated corner. No one will find us here. My darling certainly knows how to pick the right places."

You look back at the tree, the boy was gone, and the field was completely empty. You breathed a sigh of relief. As you were distracted, Jun began to unbutton his jeans, pulling it down. You turned back to see him pulling his cock out.

"What are you doing? Put it back in." You whisper-yelled. "Don't show it to me-"

He chuckled, letting go of your wrist to cup your hand. He wrapped your hand around his throbbing shaft. You gasped at the feeling. His size was impressive just like everything else about him.

"Shit..." You mumbled, watching him stroke himself with your hand.

"All you protests just died down. What, are you enjoying it?"

"Augh, I won't bother denying it." You began stroking him out of your own will, feeling the precum rolling down to your fingers. "You're gonna make a mess..."

"Why don't you clean it up for me, darling?"

"Fuck no. We shouldn't do something like this so early. It can ruin the relationship."

"So there is a relationship." He mused, his hands trailing up and down your thigh. You groaned again, stopping your movement.

"I changed my mind."

Jun hummed in amusment, he brought his face to your neck, licking at the spots he bit. "You're mine. You can't change that fact. It's taking everything in me to just not take you right here..."

He brought himself to your clothed sex, rubbing himself harshly against you. "I'll eventually have you. You can't escape from me. So unless you want to become my prisoner any time soon, you better help me calm down."

"I said no! You can't make me."

He groaned in frustration. In a quick motion, he pulled down your pants, roughly shoving everything down. You helplessly stood there, your attempts to push him away failing. You weren't trying that hard any way. Maybe because you were excited.

"Oh, I'm not putting it in."

You looked up at Jun, confused. "Huh?" Your question was answered when he began to rub his length along your slit. You bit your lip. "Seriously? Just this?"

"Yes. Seriously." Jun grunted when you squeezed your thighs around his shaft. He moved against you, picking up the speed. Your legs felt like jelly. "This is all you get for denying your boyfriend."

You whimpered, feeling your clit being stimulated. It was enough to make you come a second time when you felt him squeeze your throat. "Yeah, there you go. You're so much easier to please than I thought you'd be." He laughed, grinding a couple more times before releasing his load. You both panted, and he rubbed the spots on your neck gently.

"Mmh, let's clean up first, darling. And then we'll have some lunch." He patted your head, mumbling praises as he kissed your lips. "You're mine now. There's no room for arguments. Better behave if you don't wanna be tied up and locked away."

[cosmiccardistry]

Advice You Need To Hear Right Now

(Minors DNI + DNF!) Hello everyone, it's Cosmic or Card! Today, I'm doing a relatively simple, but needed tarot reading - one that pertains to, 'Advice You Need To Hear Right Now'! There are three colors to choose from: 'Pile One' will be blue, 'Pile Two' will be green, and 'Pile Three' will be red. When choosing a pile, look at the colors. Truly take them in. After that, shut your eyes. Breathe in and out until you feel calm - almost empty. Once you are relaxed, allow the color corresponding to the pile you're meant to engage with to appear within your mind. DISCLAIMER: I am a novice tarot reader. So, I do not intend for people to take my reads one hundred percent seriously! Also, this is a collective tarot reading. I am not reading your specific energy alone. As a result, it is unlikely that everything in your chosen pile will apply to you. Be discerning and use your own intuition! ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

PILE ONE

Shufflemancy/Channeled Song(s) : I'll Try Anything Once - The Strokes, The Less I Know The Better - Tame Impala, Borderline - Tame Impala, Jingle Bell Rock - Bobby Helms, Canned Heat - Jamiroquai Words/Sentences/Phrases/Numbers That Came To Mind : "I fucking love Tame Impala, man - did you know that it's just one guy?", 555, banana, minions, bwah, rabbids First Four Cards From Deck #1 : Seven of Cups (Rx), King of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, Ten of Wands (Rx) First Four Clarifying Cards From Deck #2 : The Fool (Rx) (Clar. 7oC - Rx), The Sun (Clar. KoP), The Hermit (Rx) (Clar. 1oC), Nine of Wands (Clar. 10ofW - Rx) You really believe in something. You are deeply committed to whatever this "something" is. It could be a relationship, career, goal, idea, or something else entirely - however, what it is matters little. This commitment you are making is not as positive as you seem to believe it is. It is a negative situation pretending to be otherwise. The foundation you are currently focusing on - regarding this "something" you deeply believe in, despite all the red flags - is simply waiting to crumble. It's waiting to crumble because it's not meant for you. A good commitment, worthy of belief, does not make you feel extremely exhausted, or sap you of the passionate energy you wish to pour into something or someone. In fact, it is meant to do the opposite of all those things, Pile One. You have many options and opportunities, whether you see them or not. You could be putting your time and energy into many other and healthier things, but you don't... why? I think you understand, deep down, in all your wisdom, that you should commit yourself to things that make you truly happy - energies and opportunities that heal your heart, rather than break it further, but... you continue to ignore your inner wisdom. You ignore your inner wisdom in favor of continuing karmic cycle after karmic cycle with... whatever this commitment is. You might even become annoyed when the Divine tries to give you other, more emotionally fulfilling, opportunities in favor of pretending to be happy. The thing is, though, you could actually be happy! You would just have to do the work (which is easier said than done, I know - but still)! And there is an outright refusal to do the work, here - to heal the wounds that keep you in these karmic cycles. Your advice is to drop the swords - the defensiveness - against the help your spiritual team is trying to give you, Pile One. Not only that but drop the commitments that continuously hurt you in favor of... taking a leap toward happiness instead. Genuine happiness, I mean - not the kind of faux happiness you've convinced yourself you have, but the actual stuff! Head toward the future and away from the past, focus on healing yourself with the assistance of those around you (physical and/or spiritual), and you will achieve honest-to-God contentment. Thank you for reading, Pile One! And take care of yourself! :-) ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

PILE TWO (TW)

Shufflemancy/Channeled Song(s) : Kiss Me, Son of God - They Might Be Giants, Rose Blood - Mazzy Star, Fade Into You - Mazzy Star, Video Games - Lana Del Rey Words/Sentences/Phrases/Numbers That Came To Mind : Election, death, pass away, "play stupid games, win stupid prizes", president, precedent First Four Cards From Deck #1 : Two of Swords (Rx), Eight of Wands (Rx), Page of Wands (Rx), Queen of Wands (Rx) First Four Clarifying Cards From Deck #2 : Page of Pentacles (Clar. 2oS - Rx), Eight of Swords (Rx) (Clar. 8oW - Rx), Ten of Cups (Clar. PoW - Rx), The Moon (Clar. QoW - Rx) Pile Two, I am going to be as kind to you as possible. Namely, because it seems like you need that kindness right now. You've been going through a rough time lately... haven't you? I immediately started feeling sad when I began reading for you. I'm here to tell you that it's okay. Everything is going to be alright, no matter what happens next. You'll get through this. There is always an upside to every negative situation we face, even if that upside is hard to see in the heat of the moment. You might not know what to do with yourself. You might feel like you have no sense of direction, at the moment. You had all these plans and ideas, but... now - all of a sudden - they don't seem to matter. That being said, though, they do still matter. Your wants, hopes, and dreams will always be worth considering and fighting for - even if the world around you suggests otherwise. You are not meant to forgo your passions - not in this lifetime, not ever. Things might be moving slowly, but they are still moving nonetheless. You aren't trapped. Everything is not falling apart. You are not unmendable - and your life is not, either. The sadness and anxiety you feel are clouding your judgment right now. You have more opportunities for happiness than you, currently, think you do. For instance, you have many people who love you. They love you, whether they are around you physically or not. Don't push everyone away in favor of being alone. Embrace your loved ones - family, friend(s), romantic partner(s), pet(s), spiritual guides, ancestors - they want to be here for you in this trying, emotional time. Please, allow them to be. Get tarot cards for yourself, if you don't have them already - lean further into spirituality. Lean on the shoulders of the bright, unseen spiritual beings who love, guide, and protect you. On the other side of all this anguish, there is sunlight. There is justice and peace. There is victory and stability. Life is a constant cycle - you suffer the lows, so you can experience the highs again. I only ask that you prepare to see those highs, Pile Two. If we are not open to seeing the blessings as blessings, they pass us by without notice - prolonging our suffering. Consider noticing the small things—the little positives that make life worth living. It may be difficult to do, especially if you're dealing with mental illness, but it does make a difference. Not only that, but it becomes easier with time. You could also try twisting consistent, reoccurring, negative thoughts you have into positive ones! I know this seems like such a cop-out, but it does work! You will have negative thoughts no matter what; we all have them. Don't make it your job to force positivity onto every "bad thought" you have. I'm only suggesting that, if you notice a particular, negative thought process returning repeatedly, turn it on its head. It works and, again, it is something that gets easier to do with time. As a final bit of advice for you, Pile Two, get involved in something that will give its energy back to you. This could be a hobby. Anything. Involve yourself in something that brings you some semblance of happiness, is healthy, and lets you put your worries on the backburner for a while. Therapy could definitely be of use, too - if available to you! Oh, oh, and here are two lists of crisis prevention hotlines - if you need them: (x) (x) Aside from all that, I hope you feel better, Pile Two, and that you have a good one! :-) Thank you for reading!

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

PILE THREE

Shufflemancy/Channeled Song(s) : What Makes You Beautiful - One Direction, Just Dance - Lady Gaga, Spectronizer - Sentai Express, Sticky - Tyler, The Creator, Balloon - Tyler, The Creator Words/Sentences/Phrases/Numbers That Came To Mind : "I'm/You're insecure", Just Dance (the video game series), childhood, remember, internet, Justice (the clothing store), brick wall, things, thingies, trombone, trumpet, band, violin, orchestra, balloons, Animal Crossing First Four Cards From Deck #1 : King of Pentacles, Ace of Cups (Rx), Six of Cups, Nine of Cups (Rx) First Four Clarifying Cards From Deck #2 : Queen of Pentacles (Rx) (Clar. KoP), Justice (Clar. AoC - Rx), Ace of Wands (Clar. 6oC), Knight of Cups (Rx) (Clar. 9oC - Rx) You may have been feeling incredibly stuck recently. Particularly when regarding your career, finances, and goals. Either that or you believe that gaining more stability - financial or otherwise - will keep you from becoming stuck. If your heart isn't involved in the process, though, that is unlikely to be true. I say this all the time, but follow what you are passionate about and stability will come after the fact. The last time you followed your heart, however, may be cemented in your mind as a negative experience. Whatever happened has caused you to internalize an immense amount of heartbreak. It could have been anything - a bad relationship, a terrible job, an abusive home life - it doesn't matter. You were taught not to follow your heart and intuition as a result of what happened regardless. You need to break free from the trauma and suffering you have dealt with in the past, Pile Three. It's holding you back and keeping you from the stability you long for. This, also, could have even been a wounding that occurred in childhood because I keep occasionally thinking of different things that remind me of my own childhood. Me thinking of my own childhood makes me also believe, that - maybe - you finding ways to connect to your inner child could be helpful, here. You may believe that avoiding others and their assistance is best for you, but it really isn't - not when it comes to healing, anyway. In fact, by avoiding others, being judgmental, and pushing kind people who only want to help away, you are screwing yourself over. You are clearly not content with the past, so - again - release it! Easier said than done, definitely, but it can be done, Pile Three. By releasing and moving forward toward the future with an open mind, things will become so much easier and you'll actually get what you want. Stuff will actually start moving in the present when you release opportunities and ideas from the past that weren't meant for you. You have a future to enjoy, and you have a current moment to thrive in - don't let the past take anything more from you. You have everything you need, currently, to lead a fulfilling life - even if it may not seem so. You simply need to inspect things differently, with a fresh set of eyes, and you will see that fact. It is difficult to flip your perspective so abruptly, so be kind to yourself while you're working through any negative thought processes you may have, or past traumas that still haunt you. Resilience and strength will be instrumental, at this time - if you do choose to put the work into healing what still pains you and holds you back. However, I do believe you have what it takes to heal, Pile Three! I genuinely do! I wish you the best of luck on your journey, and I thank you for reading! :-)

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

[eerna]

Hi, I read a little bit of your rant about Arcane, but then I stopped 'cause it's making me notice so many things and so sad thinking about what a perfect series could have been if... what? They had more time? If there were someone else with the writers that pointed out things? If they had another act? Maybe two?

For what I have understood act1 was supposed to be the last one in season 1, right now I can't find the source, maybe I'm just imagining it? Idk. But even the season 1 opening finished with Jinx and Vi's fight.

If that's so, maybe season two was supposed to be four act and not two acts super full of things to talk about, to develop, and also so not to forget the starting point of all of the Arcane.

Or maybe this is just me rumbling about a series that I love and I can't accept that they finished it forgetting things really important about Arcane, and it hurt so much.

But I also loved it. It was beautifully done, songs, animations, and voice acting, I know that ending for CaitVi was a little controversial, but I'm keeping that salame in my eyes and be happy for them. Is it so wrong to do this?

Sorry about my English, I don't usually write, but I wanted to express these feelings.

Pls don't apologize for your English, I'm not a native speaker either, we are totally on the same page~ The first arc DID feel like the conclusion to s1, so maybe you are right about that!

Listen, you get to choose how to deal with a show you love ending in an unsatisfying way! I can't police how you are supposed to express your feelings! I can only offer you my thoughts on the matter, and those are this. Engaging with criticism and reading detailed explanations of what didn't work is not a moral responsibility. I express my love for media by analyzing it to bits and pieces, and that's how I deal with disappointment, too. I like to understand why I love something, and I like to understand why I don't love stuff, too. It's just my way of interacting with fiction, not some kind of an ethical statement! I only have a problem with those who think all criticism should be silenced. Those people enter the realm of anti-intellectualism, where the only correct way to interact with media is as a mindless consumer only processing what the writers want you to think and feel and nothing else. So in my opinion, it is not at all wrong to tune out the criticism and just enjoy the good parts of the show for what they are. Because even with all the complaints about the writing, the show excels in every other area, there is a ton to enjoy about it!!

[ghostymarni]

didn’t want to grief post on this thread, so just venting here for my own piece of mind

digital holonet entry 112824 0714hours

I’ve been on and off coping as grief does, but after seeing that post about not thinking too long about crosshair just reminded me how much I’ve kinda been avoiding drawing him.

I know I recently had a similar conversation with Lupe about this. He will always be favorite overall, but my vision for cross has artistically changed so many times because I think deep down it’s a grief truth for me that I’m struggling with. I have so many crosshair drawings I never posted because they’re just SAD. I didn’t want to turn this to a depression blog so I refrained from posting or deleted those from here.

My husband passed this summer more suddenly than I’d like to think about. He was watching season 3 without me because I was too busy with work at the time. But rewatching it after he passed had me instant hone in on crosshair + connecting the loss of my husband with the loss of tech; which gave a different part in my grief acceptance + a secondary obsession with the brilliant minded clone. It’s a reminder to hold onto everything we created and did, + to always keep thinking about him.

Crosshair returning with his brothers + not having tech there feels twice as suffering knowing what their last interaction was like. And an even deeper personal meaning knowing I see my husband in everything. In our life around us, in how I choose things, how I respond to things. (Which we see + are reminded of that tech is apart of everyone he ever met)

Self regret that we didn’t have time to have a proper last moment. It just ended. Just because you choose to accept they knew you loved them, + vise versa, doesn’t make it easier than you’ll never have them around anymore.

Which with grief, digs the vibro-blade a little deeper because you never know when your last interaction with someone is.

watching how each of them take the notion of what tech would do, picking up where he would take over. I would imagine it would catch crosshair off guard, hearing tinkering to certain data pad beeps, only to look up + see Echo fixing something, or Omega typing away. Because I literally do this with sounds I associate with my late husband.

That feeling never goes away for a loved one. His brother, his batch twin. But omega is a huge part of that healing. And she has been a huge part in mine connecting her with my kid who isn’t giving up on me + needs me. Simple intended motions go such a long way. And the scene were they’re meditating hits hard for me.

Even more so when I’m constantly shaking out my own hand to keep it under control. It’s never easy when it hits, but every scene of cross trying to get his tremors under control, is something I do more often than I care to admit. I just have to keep going.

Not seeing tech with omega, is like realizing I won’t ever see my husband with our son growing up. He’s young, + it feels more unfair. And that hurts. Crosshair is such a dynamic clone + his guilt + hurt reaches out to many people in so many different ways. Which is why I can’t think too long about him either, but he will always be my favorite overall because I see him as me.

From grief, trauma, hand tremors, loss. (if I’m being honest, I’m pretty decent at shooting actual long range rifles) there’s so much to crosshair I personally relate to, and not just his attitude haha!

Crosshair didn’t see his brother fall, but he watched another brother die in his place. An older brother that taught him a lesson he didn’t realize he needed to know until it was too late. We confirmed that from his retaliation of shooting an imperial officer, + when they returned to the deserted base; he instantly moves to set up the memorial buckets as Mayday did. A reminder of the fallen, a reminder that they existed + lived.

A lesson I have to remind myself everyday.

So what I guess I’m also trying to convey, while I see myself as crosshair, despite the grief, the false fight some days, I’ve never felt so alone than having my soulmate gone. Going from a life of fun, banter, + life for granted, to solitude and what feels like isolation.

the clone community really gave me a second chance. At me. At reconnecting with myself, my art, my humor + wit. The friendships I’ve made + are continue to make really are giving me a new fight and a new reason to just keep going.

I never share for sympathy, I don’t want to be put in a “do not interact zone”. That’s the opposite of what I need or want. I just wear my heart on my sleeve + find comfort in just being honest about struggles + how we strive to move on.

as our boy hardcase (+ echo) quote, what I try to embrace:

“LIVE TO FIGHT ANOTHER DAY”

[some-stars]

logan/wade rough sex with wade crying!!!

okay, so obviously you know the context for this but for everyone else: this is a canon-divergence AU sequel to a fic of mine that I haven't finished yet. all you need to know is that Logan and Wade hooked up during Origins, fell for each other and ran off together, and also they are both fucked up but wade is very fucked up.

content notes: consensual sex but it's fucked up, face slapping, painful sex, possessiveness, masochism, praise, spit, kind of sweet despite all that. i'm high so i might have forgotten something, read at your own risk. i don't think i did tho!

--

The only thing that stops Logan from slamming Wade up against the wall the second the last body drops is the urgent need for them to get clear of the scene before the cops show up. As it is, they make it about half a mile before he snaps and drags Wade down an alley, the simmering anger in his skull boiling over at the way Wade laughs when he does it. It's clear Wade's still riding the high from the fight, and when his back hits the bricks he grins like crazy.

"All that killing got you so hot and bothered, huh, cupcake?" He bats his eyelashes like a goddamn cartoon. "You just can't wait till we get home to take it out on me? I'm not complaining, I love a nice nasty back alley fuck. Something about getting reamed five feet from a dumpster really tickles the old pickle."

Logan would love to be able to say that his hand moves without him meaning to move it, that he slaps Wade across the face on a blind, furious impulse. But that would be a lie. He chooses to do it.

He kisses Wade right after, because the flash of hurt and fear that crosses his face is too much to look at. Too much to think about, how right it feels to put it there. Wade melts into the kiss just like he always does, permanently desperate for affection no matter how much of it Logan gives him. Logan holds his face with one hand--the side he hit, hot and flushed with blood--and kisses Wade like he's claiming him, deep and demanding. When Logan takes his lower lip between his teeth Wade tenses and whimpers, anticipating pain, but Logan doesn't break the skin. He's already smelled enough of Wade's blood tonight, enough for a fucking lifetime.

He pulls back just enough to look Wade in the eye. "What the fuck were you thinking back there?"

The slap shook him but he’s already recovering, raising his eyebrows and starting to smirk. "Well, you know how it is when that battle haze comes over you. It’s all just flow state and instinct. And a dash of horny, once things really get going--"

Logan gives him a shake, maybe harder than he means to. It shuts him up, though, so maybe just hard enough. "You still don’t give a shit if you get killed," he says, low and dangerous. "Is that why you wanted to get into this mercenary gig? You got bored of not nearly fucking dying all the time?"

"I didn’t--" 

"You got shot!"

"Grazed," Wade snaps, starting to struggle against Logan’s bruising grip. "I got lightly grazed, all those guys had terrible aim, it doesn’t even hurt anymore--"

This time when Logan kisses him he can't make himself hold back. The taste of blood sizzles on his tongue like lightning, sweet and hot, and the high hurt noise his teeth tear from Wade makes it hard to find any regret.

"You don't get to do that shit anymore," Logan growls. "You don't get to throw away what's mine."

It slides home as smooth as a skeleton key, unlocking Wade like he knew it would. His hips jerk forward and his head falls back against the bricks, already babbling an apology as he offers up his throat. Logan rewards him with a hand fisted tight in his hair to pull his head back even farther, and sharp teeth clamped down hard around the thick cord of muscle that runs from neck to shoulder. Not tearing him open, now, because he doesn't want that. He doesn't even want the blood, really, not when he's in his right mind. It's just that Wade still wants so badly to give it to him.

Logan hurts him like that until the apologies turn into begging, until his cock is as hard as Wade's where they're grinding together. "Please," Wade repeats, choked and thick.

"Yeah? You want something?" Logan kisses him again before he can answer, just long enough to feel Wade open up for him. It's not enough, though. Three fingers in his mouth feels closer to what he wants, and Wade sucks on them gratefully, moaning. Like any way Logan wants to be inside him is the best thing he's ever felt. He doesn't close his eyes, either, even though Logan knows he wants to, how hard it is for Wade to let Logan watch him like this. But Logan asked him for it, once. Before he knew just how careful he had to be about asking Wade to give him things.

"You want me to show you how you're mine?" Logan asks, and Wade nods and mumbles around the fingers in his mouth, incoherent and desperately affirmative. Logan pulls his fingers out and wipes them on Wade's cheek, leaving a thick smear of wet that glitters in the faint, distant glow of the streetlights. Wade shivers, finally squeezing his eyes shut, but offers no other protest.

(Not that he would. Logan's seen him come from being spat on, which was so nightmarishly arousing to watch that he hasn't tried it again since.)

When Wade had finally realized Logan was serious about refusing to fuck him dry, he'd become obsessive about stashing lube everywhere, including the pockets of his work clothes. Logan fishes the packet out now, and when Wade realizes what he's reaching for he almost trips over his own feet turning around so fast. With his cheek pressed to the wall, eyes closed, back arched to present himself, he looks ripped from the kind of magazine that gets sold in brown paper wrapping. The kind you have to ask for, at very specific stores. He looks obscene, and Logan hasn't even gotten his pants down yet.

It's the work of a moment to shove them down around his knees and get his own belt and fly open just enough so he can use the scant handful of lube on himself. Wade shudders at the wet sound, his back curving into an even deeper arch. A cat in heat, desperate to be put down. No matter how sweet Logan is to him it's always this waiting underneath, this shape that other hands bent Wade into long before Logan ever met him.

He loves Wade like this, because there isn't any way he doesn't love Wade; no possible shape of him that Logan wouldn't want exactly this much.

Logan pulls him open and forces his way in too fast, offering not even a breath for Wade's body to welcome him the way it always does, surely would if Logan gave him the chance, but he doesn't and Wade can't entirely swallow the little scream that slips out. His whole back tenses as his body struggles on instinct to get away from what's hurting it, but there's nowhere to go with the wall at his face and Logan boxing him in everywhere else.

Logan leans in close as he settles into a quick hard pace. Already Wade's breathing fast and scared, his hands balled into useless fists, all fear and misery, forgetting why he wanted this so fucking bad. 

"You need someone to hurt you," he rasps into Wade's ear, "you don't pull that kind of dumb shit. You come to me."

Another harsh snap of his hips makes Wade's breath hitch. For a moment he goes even more tense and tight beneath Logan, and a trembling little moan slides past his lips. Logan thinks about stopping; doesn't.

"Come on, Wade," he murmurs. He licks the hollow behind Wade's ear. The slick of sweat that dissolves into his tongue tastes like honey. "Be good for me."

More magic words. Wade sobs and the panicky all-over clench of him eases a little, and a few moments later a little more. Logan's next thrust feels more like fucking, less like cruelty. Enough less, at least.

He smells Wade's tears before he sees them. "Good boy," Logan tells him, which makes him cry harder, but he thanks Logan anyway. Can't seem to stop thanking him, even as he sobs, and it's almost a shocked kind of sound, the way he cries, like a kid with their first broken arm.

God, it feels so fucking good. He's never going to be able to make Wade stop giving him everything because he likes it so much, he fucking loves it, every single time.

Wade comes almost as soon as Logan gets his hand around him, and Logan fills his ear with stupid praise as he works him through it, how he's so good, so tight, so sweet, so good for Logan, so fucking good to him, better than anybody should be. 

Logan doesn't last long either after that, way too worked up do anything but give into it. Wade shakes as Logan fills him, his sobs slowing to sniffles and hitching damp breaths. Logan wraps his arms around him and nuzzles down into his neck, breathing him in deep, and for a minute they stay like that.

Logan waits for his cock to go soft and lets himself slip out as gently as he can. As soon as he's free Wade spins in his arms and grabs his face and kisses him, demanding. It's nothing Logan doesn't want to give him, so he does, all of it, everything Wade wants. Even when Wade breaks off and looks away, swallowing roughly, and says, "Tell me again."

"That you're mine?" Logan watches his eyes close. "You know you are."

"Yeah," Wade sighs. When he opens his eyes again he looks tender, exhausted. Soft. "So take me home already, daddy. It's past my bedtime."

"I fucking hate that daddy shit," Logan mutters. Wade falls into step beside him as he starts back down the street, so close they could be sharing an umbrella, stays soft and close and quiet the whole way home.

[sga-owns-my-soul]

if not stargate, what show/movie would you hyperfixate on? (I wanna know if I've heard of them because all the good sci-fi shows/actors are Canadian)

okay honestly i've hyper fixated on so many shows and movies in my life 😅 obviously none to the point of sga (nothing is the the point of sga) but i've had a few

for tv shows: Bones is my biggest ones, i have rewatched that show so many times and i've cried over it almost as much as stargate. it's like 12 seasons long but it's great, very strong Found Family vibes which if you know me you know is my jam!!! i also recently watched New Girl for the first time (funny bc the lead female character in both shows are sisters irl!) and OH BOY did i get obsessed! it was actually what got me back into reading fanfiction again bc i needed jess/nick fan fic in my life

as for movies: my biggest one is definitely the hunger games, the trilogy as a whole is good but i hyperfixated on the first one hard. i've seen the movie over 30 times and it never fails to put me in a better mood i love it. also the iron giant, i haven't watched that movie in years but i get chills every time i watch it and it's so good, the animation in it is BEAUTIFUL and it's so funny and heartwarming i could watch it forever

[wardensantoineandevka]

one of my favorite parts of speculating ahead of the Veilguard is the number of people talking themselves around and around in the loop of "Illario is extremely suspicious and the most obvious choice for who betrayed Lucanis → However, Illario seems like he genuinely cares for Lucanis and seemed sincerely distraught in The Wake → I know in my heart it must be Illario: there is no one else with means and motive → If Illario did it, I understand why given how Caterina has treated him and them, and he has arguably earned a bit of a villain era → The situation is ultimately caused by Caterina and Crow politics and, again, Caterina → I don't want it to be Illario because I want he and Lucanis to have a good relationship given all they've suffered together → However, there is already an existing bitterness between them because of the succession question and in Illario generally because he's seen as lesser → Illario is the most obvious choice"

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

As a follow up to the previous post re: Jews by birth having ugly attitudes towards gerim-

Sometimes it's really hard to love ourselves - especially the parts of ourselves that others hate and have denigrated us for, mocked us, hurt us, or even killed others like us over.

I think the challenge to Jews by birth of gerim, especially Jews by birth who have been deeply wounded over their Jewishness, is that loving us means loving a group of people that chose you, specifically based on those wounded, vulnerable parts. We love you. We love you and the Jewish people enough to risk our lives by joining our fates to yours. We love you enough to leave behind everything we know culturally and religiously to be like you, to daven next to you, to join your family. And that can be really difficult to accept.

"Gerim are as hard for Israel as a scab" says the Gemara. Why? There are many interpretations of this statement, but mine is that we love the Jewish people for their Jewishness, which for many is still as tender as a scab. It can be hard to stomach someone choosing you and your family, especially if they come from outside, especially if they come from the very people who hurt you. And then we are here, in your space, excitedly embracing many of the very things that have gotten you mocked or excluded or hurt.

To fellow gerim, I would say that we need to be mindful of this and let our love include a lot of listening and grace towards those who are healing. To Jews by birth who may struggle with that sort of feeling, I would say that it's a perfectly natural instinct to have. Don't beat yourself up about it, but don't give into it, either. Let us be your salve, even if it hurts at first.

[acourtofquestions]

Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:

She'd rebuild it—what she had been.

Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.

Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."

"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.

"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."

"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.

Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.

Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.

At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.

In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.

She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.

Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."

A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.

She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."

Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."

"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."

Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.

"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."

"I do know."

"And?"

"And what do you wish me to say?"

She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"

"If what?"

"If you wish it wasn't so."

His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"

She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.

It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.

"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."

She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.

"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."

She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"

"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."

"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."

"Then it is her choice, not yours."

Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."

"What did she show you?" A breathless question.

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."

She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."

His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"

She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.

Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."

She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.

"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.

"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."

A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"

"We'll face it together," he swore again.

"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.

Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."

"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."

She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.

"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."

She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.

She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"

"I thought you might want to be asked first."

"That never stopped you before."

"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.

She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."

He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.

"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."

The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.

"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.

Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.

Together.

[longmaxsilvarg]

will forever have a soft spot for chloe cause yeah dawg i get it we can try to avoid becoming attached out of the overwhelming fear of being abandoned again but miserably fail together

[cartoonghosts]

genuinely people need to tag triggers. Love all the 'not my responsibility to tag stuff the way you want it' shit but that is for fandom and weird kinks and whatever not LITERAL PICTURES OF SELF HARM AND BLOOD EVERYWHERE like I'd be fine if it was tagged 'tw blood' (which I don't have blocked!! I'd still be triggered as fuck but hey you tried idc) but when you don't tag it at all I have to assume you are actually trying to hurt someone. Yeah I block immediately but thst doesn't change the fact that I'm triggered and the sh urges are back. This is true for text posts too, although I try to block words (I genuinely hate it so deeply when people sidestep other people's word blocks with 'sewerslide' or button mash numbers in the word like. I am going to fucking kill you. 'Oh noo it's triggering to me uwu' bitch you made me actively suicidal for the first time in months. Fucking die. Don't post that shit if using the actual words triggers you). You ABSOLUTELY ARE responsible for what you put out into the words. People saying 'oh ur not responsible for other peoples triggers and emotions' are genuinely heartless and have never felt human empathy. You ain't responsible for how I react to your content, but you NEED to try your best to give people the bare minimum of warnings when you post triggering shit. Look at ur vent post and be like 'hey I'm gonna tag this as tw vent/ tw si' and you genuinely might save someone's life. Probably not but the chance should be enough for you to care and if it isn't, block me. Don't argue, just block me now.

[boxwinebaddie]

this is my formal apology to teri for constantly turning her dms into my philosophical soap box for my sermons. also everyone has to know that i am…feral abt cartman. and that he is so much more than just a ‘bad guy’ char.

[doctorweebmd]

so there's this post floating around about like, feeling like an outsider even in a group of outsiders and i almost reblogged it being like

'aha i do that'

except. like. i know exactly why that happens, and its 100% my fault

i just have trouble maintaining relationships because i'm a poor communicator. that's been the case since high school. i dont really initiate conversations or remember to text or call people. its not from a place of indifference or anything like that - i'm sincerely an 'out of sight out of mind' kind of person.

i can not talk to and not see someone for months or years but my feelings for them don't change. it doesn't bother me if people dont check in on me or don't hang out with me or don't text me. i still like them. unfortunately that is not how 99% of the population communicates. people (rightfully) assume that when someone doesn't initiate conversation or hang-outs or doesn't check in on you, that they don't care about you. for me, thats not the case at all. like if i like you and consider you my friend, you are ALWAYS my friend. i would do anything for you and would be more than happy to talk/see each other/support you/etc. its just the day-to-day communication that i really struggle with. but thats how most relationships form - regular, consistent communication.

i've gone through periods of extreme guilt for this where i sincerely try, and make new friends, and re-connect with texting and phone calls and hanging out more often but inevitably something happens, i get busy or i forget and suddenly all this time passes and people think i dont care anymore. unfortunately that's not the case whatsoever - time is kind of abstract to me and i dont understand that while my feelings don't change, others feel more distant or abandoned.

and i've really hurt people in my life like that. friends that i've known for many years from high school/college are a LITTLE more forgiving because they know i'm just 'like that' but still. it does hurt people. like i haven't spoken to my dad in probably at least a year - not because i dont love him, but because of that same reason. he doesn't reach out and i forget and it just steamrolls because he gets hurt, doesn't reach out because he thinks i'm intentionally 'ignoring' him, and i continue to forget, and its just this viscous cycle. i haven't talked to my grandparents in months. my mom knows better and texts me every week or so, but it still hurts her that she has to reach out so regularly. she also plays these games where she sees how 'long' it takes for me to remember to reach out. a lot of people in my life have done that. its like i'm being tested on something without ever being told its a standard test, ya know? i'm always destined to fail it because i dont know how long is too long. at which point will the time and distance be unacceptable? i still dont know the answer.

and i think it makes me come off as a really heartless and callous person. its made me kind of keep people at arms-length because i know i'm not capable of being a part of most people's lives. i have perfectly normal and pleasant relationships with my coworkers and all that, but i'm generally not close with them. and i can see the confusion, because we hang out and i'm pretty normal or whatever and we have fun and then they don't hear from me for months and they're like 'uhhhh.... okay? so i guess you don't like me?'

i do. i just have different relationship maintenance standards than others i guess. so i just overall avoid being around others just because i know i'll disappoint them. it is what it is but it really is sad, in a way.

[iguessitsjustme]

*flips hair* I have never blocked anyone because I'm nosy, but I want to know #4!

What was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

I am also nosy...to my detriment sometimes. Which is why it takes me so long to actually block people that I should probably have blocked a lot sooner. But I do have a story.

4. what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

I've kind of vaguely mentioned this when asked before but I'll talk a tiny bit more specifically here. Not too specific because I'm not trying to start shit buuuuut....also they are definitely not the only person I've blocked but I think they might be the most recent one? I don't know.

About a year(?) ago I had to block a couple of people because they were starting to make me uncomfortable. I was being tagged in all sorts of posts (and to be clear the posts weren't bad, they were even positive! kind posts even) and something about what was happening was rubbing me the wrong way.

Actually before I keep talking about this, I feel like I need to talk a tiny bit about myself because it's important context. This also might surprise people considering how much I overshare on here, but I am, at my core, an extremely private person. I do not like attention. I get anxiety when my follower count goes up here (genuinely love all of my followers and this is definitely a me problem). I live in fear of being secretly recording for some stranger's tiktoks. I don't want my face seen by people. I do not wish to be perceived. It is 100% a trauma response and I am aware of all of this. And this is extremely important to why I blocked these people.

It is slightly easier for me on tumblr than it is in real life, but this is quite literally my safe space that I have built for myself. It's why I'm comfortable sharing things here. I have no issue being tagged in posts. I have no issue with people wanting to talk about things I've said or if they tag me because they want me to see something. So getting tagged in seemingly genuinely kind and positive posts should be fine, right?

Well, yes and no. The posts I was being tagged in felt...hollow to me. Like I was being tagged in an attempt to build a platform instead of because they actually wanted to tag me. I was being tagged in posts thanking me for participating in a fandom which kind of made it seem like the reason I was posting about anything was for accolades and that...is simply not why I'm here. I am not here to gain a following. I am not here to build a platform or to help others build a platform. I am here to post silly little posts about my shows and my life and also now keep track of character's glasses. If I wanted to build a platform, tumblr is not what I would be using (and honestly if I wanted to, I genuinely think I could be pretty successful at building a platform and gaining followers and other platforms. I would consider myself highly marketable if I wanted to go into that industry).

But the last straw for me? What finally did it? Why I finally blocked the people whose vibes have felt off for me and clearly did not know me well enough to know that doing what they were doing was quite literally the opposite of something I am comfortable with? It was when someone (again not naming names because I don't think they had bad intentions but were just so horrendously misguided as to allow themselves to ignorantly do this) who did not follow me, did not reblog any of my posts, did not like any of my posts, had never replied to any of my posts, nor had they ever interacted with my blog or with me in any type of way (I checked because I'm nosy enough and petty enough to have checked that) tagged me in a post. To thank me. For participating in a fandom. And I am not saying anyone has to do any of those things. But if you're gonna tag me to thank me for participating...perhaps maybe at least like one of my posts about the thing you're thanking me for?

To be clear, this was a show that a lot of people were talking about at the time. I was not the only person tagged in these posts. I was for sure not the only person talking about the show. In fact, I probably posted a tenth of what other people posted. If that. And my posts, honestly, weren't very well thought out or coherent. They were my typical little silly posts. And I know people like those. But they weren't the same as what other people were posting. And to be tagged by someone that seemed to only care when it was something that could gain them notes and followers instead of someone who actually enjoyed what I was saying? Felt strange to me. And rather than start beef with a stranger on the internet I blocked them.

Blocking them solved the issue that was making me uncomfortable as peacefully as I felt I could. They no longer had the ability to tag me in strangely performative posts and I didn't start yelling at a stranger and potentially ruin their day. Or start drama that no one else needed to be involved in. I did make a small post about it at the time mostly because I felt so weirded out and I did feel a little bit bad about blocking them. But it was such a quiet thing that no one noticed and everyone moved on with their lives. Made things happier. For me at least. Probably happier for them too.

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