#and an even longer time since I felt comfortable posting my art on the internet

[mkay-thats-cool-too]

I know I've done a lot of GalePosting lately but I can't help it. I don't even know if my 1 (one) mutual knows I do art but damn if they don't now lmao

[thanatoast250]

Every piece of Bloomacncheez has slowly disappeared off the internet. YouTube, Wikia, etc. They’re entitled to their privacy but I’m just curious if they’re okay. Did they finish college? Did they reach their dreams of working in animation? Things I think about some time.

Hey there, Anon

Bloo's DeviantArt is still up along with her Tumblr pages (main and art here) and Twitter, but if she has started using social media again, it isn't under her BMNC moniker.

Her main YouTube page has been down for quite a long time due to some old Copyright issues. This was way back in the old day when Viacom and Universal were hellbent on striking anything and everything that had semblance of their properties, and her page got hit with a bunch of issues from her old parodies. She and I tried to fix it a long time ago but once College time got around, we were both just so busy that we didn't end up getting around to it.

Her Wikia page was deleted because I didn't feel comfortable with how it had been used in the past. When I found out that it existed, I was super excited because it was something I could have worked on and just been a nice thing for her. But I also found out that people were using it to allegedly stalk her; since Wikia/Fandom pages can be edited by anyone, there were anonymous users using it to talk about how she disappeared and how they "found her" and were "watching from the shadows". It was super creepy and I started to clean it up, making the whole wiki nice and pretty and cleaning out as much as I could that would lead people to trying to stalk her or The Classy Peanuts. I became the Content Administrator, so I had full rule over what would and would not be posted, and I made several pages about her, her parodies, characters, and the many people that were either working on or going to work on the stuff (including one for myself that I was going to finish up last).

But the longer I worked on it the more I felt like something was off, and considering Wikia/Fandom doesn't like it when Wikias/Fandom pages are made about IRL people, I reached out and asked a moderator/developer about whether the work I was doing was safe or not, since I didn't want to put either her or any of the other Classy Peanuts (or really anyone) in danger of stalkers and the like. He told me that if that Wikia/Fandom were made today, it would likely be shut down for precisely the reasons/concerns that I had, even though Bloo didn't ever post anything about her IRL life outside of her birthday (I knew about a little bit more about her life, but I never shared any of it, obviously) and there wasn't going to be anything about her or the Peanuts' IRL lives on there. So that being said, I figured that the safest course of action would be to delete the Wikia/Fandom. I have all of the pages downloaded/archived on my computers in the chance that I ever get back in contact with Bloo or one of the Peanuts reaches out to me and says it's okay, but as it stands, the Fandom is down and will not be returning for their safety and respect. So I personally apologize for that.

However, I was informed that I could probably make a page for her on Wikitubia (I think that's what it was called?) because her page has over 10k subscribers, which is the minimum requirement for having a page. I was told that Fandom has more moderation that would help with keeping people from stalking her or posting irrelevant or personal information. It's currently in my ever-growing list of projects, but it'll be up eventually. Probably.

As for the rest of your questions, I can't say. The last time I talked with Bloo was when she was still in college, but she was trying very hard to stay focused and buckle down for everything. There were parts of our interactions and conversations that gave me concerns for her. She was under a lot of stress, and her taking a break from Tumblr (and online in general) was a good thing for her. She was in her final year of college the last time I spoke to her, so I imagine that she did graduate. A lot of her courses and focuses were in Illustration, and she was phenomenal at it, so I like to think that she ended up working what she wanted to. She's a strong person, so I like to believe that she overcame the stresses she was under and did achieve her dreams. At the end of the day, though, I can't give you any direct confirmations though; the last time we talked was back in 2015 or 2016, and her email closed due to inactivity a couple years ago.

The only other people that I can think of that would be able to help you or anyone else more than that are the other Classy Peanuts who knew her IRL because they lived near her and hung out all the time. But the last time I talked to one of the Peanuts they just told me, quote, "if we don't share details about our lives with the public/internet, it means we don't want anyone knowing". Granted, I wasn't exactly level-headed when I asked about it; the last couple conversations I had with Bloo had me concerned for her safety and health, so I was kind of a wreck and very pushy with this person. It's definitely a conversation I could have handled better, though I suppose there's not much I can do about it now.

I think about BMNC a lot, too. I think about all conversations we had, all the times before then where we helped each other get through hardship, all the silly back-and-forths in the early hours on weekdays despite us having classes in the morning, all those fun times. They're good memories and help me keep going when I'm feeling crummy. I still send her Happy Birthday messages on her DA and Tumblr in the off chance she sees them.

I'm sorry I can't be of more help, though. I wish I had more answers for you and all of the people that come to me about it. I don't mind answering questions, I just feel bad that I can't give good and satisfying answers to them.

[crowpocrypha]

Gloomy nighttime Mina rant? You guessed it. I know these aren't really what people come to this blog for but: I drop them anyway.

I'll repost on sidenotes since that blog is intended for this kind of stuff.

I love to create. I've been mulling over a lot of my content push as of late because: I'm now seeing there's an audience interested in it—but I feel like I'm stuck in a rut without a place to go.

I still feel incredibly insecure about my art, writing, and even my poetry— despite the validation I get from people in my day to day life.

I write poetry to vent and stimulate, and while I can call myself a "Poet" on my resumé: I don't want to be a "poet".

As some of you may know, I'm writing a novel titled Onyx Feathers on Snow—and I use some of the sets from my OFOS universe in Crowley in Arkham—and characters and themes.

I never really wanted to dedicate as much time as I do to CIA: I always had the intention of using it to get comfortable writing dialogue exchange— but eventually it felt more like "Get it out. Quantity over quality."

Which is why there was a tonal shift back in October: so that I could bring back some semblance of "quality" to it.

Ironically, the way I write Jon? I absolutely despise— but I felt like he couldn't feel too much like a character that already existed in the universe I have: Luciel Bright. My criminologist/detective in my wip "Lady In White" the work that bore my first short-story back in 2019.

I'll probably end up reworking CIA to be more appealing to me: I was writing it during a horrible episode while I was overseas, and though I no longer have the time I had before, I still adore that someone reads CIA and people enjoy something I made.

I got overzealous when I realized I could have a following that is less interested in me and more interested in what I make.

Though this blog is mostly people interested in my shitposts and my Scarecrow simpage— I do like to know I don't have people following me because of something superficial.

It's just not for me.

I like that I can say something I think and have both validation and criticism.

I know that my followings absolutely do not overlap: and while I find that difficult to juggle— I can understand why.

The people who read my books aren't going to be interested in my livestreaming, and those that are—come join! I talk about my manuscripts all the time and you can hang out as I rant about my trial-and-error process and some of my concerns with major plot points or pondering the potential interpretations of my narrative.

Sometimes, I join the Jetwaves and we read standardized reading and give commentary on them.

I guess I did start this post regarding my insecurity on my internet persona, and whether or not I'll have to abandon it.

I don't want to— and I don't see myself doing that— but, you'll have to get used to these long bouts of be not posting much or— not much of interest.

I just have very little time; now that I've returned to my normal responsibilities and a full-time job.

I have to cut my work hours again for school— and while I love a lot of my daily job-- I'm woefully underpaid and my management is just disrespectful. (Quietly voicing my qualms with my corporate overlord—thank god nobody that works with me follows me)

I just have very little time to put towards what I want to do— that's to dedicate to my goal and– I hate to sound ignorantly romantic:

My dreams.

All I want out of life is to write a good book and be a decent author—but sometimes I think I'm not as passionate about writing as I should be.

I have no drive to write.

Sometimes, someone reminds me of the world I see in my mind’s eye and the sensations I feel walking through it. The look of the mountains looming overhead, the smell in the wind, the taste of the air, the feeling of the ground below, the bustling sound of the towns— I am taken with inspiration at the crunch of snow underfoot.

It's only then, when I'm forced to remember— that I want to write.

When someone is delighted by something I've written—or even cared to read it at all.

I want to write.

Yet, my father, who I trust much and appreciate now that I have him in my life: treats my dreams as he treated them before he read "Man of Glass"—like they were impossible and unrealistic.

I had to get published before my father realized it was a viable option for me.

I believe that to be my biggest qualm with him.

Sorry for going on for so long about this: I'll head to bed now. Thanks for reading, anyway.

[child-of-diaspora]

Tune out the noise

My brain has been on overdrive recently. Do you ever get an internal monologue going around and around in your head? I recently watched a stand-up by Drew Michael (Red Blue Green). It's not your typical stand-up that makes you laugh. He speaks about his struggles with his mental health, and it triggered my brain to go on the tirade about my own, and it's tiring.

For as long as I remember I've always felt detached. So many of the things I have endured in my life has left me feeling this way. Growing up mixed raced in Britain, living with a racist family. Intersected with a violent father during early childhood (who luckily wasn't around long), then left with a schizophrenic mother (those who have read my previous blogs will know my origin story by now).

As I've gotten older the impact of this is catching up with me, or more accurately I'm not able to block them out anymore. I really struggle with displaying my emotions. It's frustrating because I've spoken to various therapists and ex-partners and they are like, just do the thing, but I'm screaming, I can't! If I could just do the thing then surely I'd be doing it by now? It's like trying to learn a subject when the textbooks are written in another language. This has all come to a head recently when my partner of eight years (and mother to my son), decided I am no longer the right person for her.

In some ways I get it. I know my short comings. I lack empathy and don't show affection in the typical way. Shit, I don't even know if I love anyone or anything at times as I feel so destitute. I'm more comfortable when I shut myself down. My childhood left a chronic loneliness lurking over me due to the emotional abandonment. Despite having lots of people around me that care for me and let me know, I don't know if I'm absorbing it, or at least that's how my brain thinks right now. The past few years the life events I've experienced have taken their toll. I used to count on myself for stability, stubborn and defiant, but losing my grandad changed this. I've thought about suicide during these times. The only reason I'm still here is because I'm scared of the pain I might inflict on myself (yes myself, I'm not thinking of others during these moments) and that I may survive and make things worse. If there was an app I could download and press a button, I'd have done it by now.

There is tonnes of advice out there which teaches us not think about the negative and concentrate on the positive (looking at you CBT), but this just feels like I'm gaslighting myself to be happy, is that what it takes? I'm drawn to meaningful and emotional art in music, films and media, i.e. the stand-up I mentioned earlier. Like a moth to light. It's comforting yet hurtful due to the reminders of my own pain. These blogs posts sometimes feel like that. Is this helping, or am I talking myself in circles. Maybe I'm fine and I should just shut up. Is this a curated identity I've made for myself. The tortured soul.

A shared experience I think you might be able to understand which exasperates my mental health (and probably yours) is living through the internet age, where we have access to all of the information, all of the time. Current events feel like a fever dream and the media feeds us disaster after disaster until we are catatonic, unable to imagine how we can make the world a better place. Again, I am drawn to these news cycles and struggle to ignore it. The antidote piece of media to this problem would be my film of 2022, Every Everywhere All At Once. It gives a heartfelt message that we need to tune out the noise and focus on love, connection and understanding.

The main thing keeping me going at the moment is trying to be a good father to my son. Since the breakup I've become a lot closer as I don't have to worry about the failing relationship anymore. I have to break the generational trauma I've inherited. Despite the disconnect I feel with people and the world, and the difficulties I went through during the early stages of raising him, I don't doubt my bond with him. I still occasionally struggle when he is difficult or tantrums as it can throw me back into the dark place in my head I'm strenuously trying to avoid (yet another symptom of my childhood trauma). I just need to tune out the noise and remember what is important.

[staff]

tumblr tuesday: adam is not just kidding

So one thing that happens when you’ve been here for a while is that you end up with this archive of how you got to where you are now—a long lens of nostalgia on all the people you’ve been, those you’ve loved, and all the things you’ve done.

Adam JK (@adamjk​) was one of the first Artists on Tumblr—he’s literally been here for almost as long as we have! Since that first post, he’s journaled, made friends, found his queer community, met his future husband, and made some really great art that people really love.

We asked Adam to share some of the moments that shaped his identity—as a person, an artist, a writer, a member of the LGBTQIA+ community. These are the posts he decided to talk about.

~

This post really sums up how I used Tumblr for a long time. It was my diary and I didn’t think anybody was paying attention (because they weren’t).

~

Usually in relationships, I was the one getting dumped, so when I had to break up with a guy, it felt so shitty, and I thought, “why isn’t there a thing for this?”The minimum order was 500 balloons, so I had 499 too many and posted about them. People started ordering them. I got some minor press coverage, I even got ripped off a few times! My art—really one of the first things I created that wasn’t for a client—was suddenly blowing up, and I put the profits (a few hundred dollars) back into this hobby of making novelty gift products nobody asked for.

~

Around age 21, I became internet friends with a network of “Tumblr Gays” that made me feel more comfortable being myself. I would take the bus from Baltimore to NYC on weekends to meet up and go out and pretend brunch was an entire personality. At some point, I met Walt Cessna, who was flooding Tumblr with photos around that time. I feel like this photo captured me between two worlds, nervous about being on my own but excited to be my full queer self in New York.

~

In 2013 I started making these “everything will be so good so soon” post-it note collages, and they took on a life of their own. So many people have told me this was their phone background or helped them through a hard time, and I learned the power of making hopeful, honest art. This particular reminder finds its way back to me just when I need it most, and I’m really proud to have re-drawn it for the back cover of my new book.

~

My husband and I were mutuals but never exchanged messages or anything until one day I caved and asked him out. We both fell pretty hard for each other, and it was interesting how we kept posting on Tumblr while knowing the other could see it. We would buy each other donuts and flowers and write cute notes and the whole fucking thing. Before Mitchell, I never dated a guy longer than three months. Before me, he never thought about marriage. Love is real, and I’m so glad I didn’t listen to anyone who made me feel like I couldn’t find it for some reason.

~

Tumblr… I love you. Thank you for being you!!!!!!

~

As it happens, Adam actually recently finished making a little blue book about learning to be a person and then being that person. So if you want to know where he’s at today, here’s the trailer for that book. Happy Tuesday, Tumblr <3

[dragynkeep]

Hi there, ironpines! (Love the name btw, I read a really good fic about ironwood being a father-figure to Oscar when RWBY and co. get to Atlas).

So this is probably going to be very long but I’ve really gotta vent about some stuff.

(Also, first ask. I honestly didn’t know how to do this for the longest time. Just got back into tumblr a bit ago).

1. I hate Jaune Arc (a lot of people do), but I want to know why. Do you think/believe he’s an author’s pet? Also, why the HELL did he kill Penny in the first place?!? Why not Winter, Nora, or Ruby? Why did he have to go to the island? Just- WHY?

2. In the first three volumes I really liked Team RWBY, but now….how did they get so skewed? What went wrong? How can Ruby be THAT arrogant that she point-blank says to Qrow: “we never needed an adult’s help.” Like- yes you did! If not for Qrow killing the Grimm in v4 they would have been continuously fighting Grimm. I’m the fight against Tyrian (one of my favorite characters and favorite fights) if not for Ruby getting in the way Qrow wouldn’t have been POISONED!

3. (This is the one I’m going to get cyber-ly killed for). (I also had just started RWBY when volume 5 was airing weekly.) The beginning of Volume 5, in my opinion was good. I liked the first five-six chapters, but when AU watched ‘Rest and Resolutions’ V5C7, I was so angry! Everything about the conversation between Ruby, Weiss, and Yang felt so out of character and out of place. It was so bad and the next episodes following that were not good either (only the raven v cinder fight was any good). The battle of Haven was a train wreck that I honestly have no idea how I even retained braincells after that. Like- why KEEP teasing Weiss v emerald if you aren’t going to do anything with it. Why tease Mercury v Yang if you’re not going to do anything new and interesting with the two (Mercury isn’t even a character anymore!)

4. I wish we got good rep. I really wish we didn’t get confirmation on LGBTQ+ characters from supplemental material (that’s not even canon). And I’ve gotta ask, why do you consider cannon? Cuz for me, the only things I consider actually CANNON to the storyline are the Red, White, Black, Yellow Trailers and the show itself (Grimm Eclipse just for the sake of more cool lore about Mountain Glenn and the fact of mutant Grimm). That’s it. I don’t consider the World of Remnants, manga (DC or otherwise, those were HORRIBLE!), anthologies, and the DISGUSTING novels.

(This is the last thing, I promise!)

5. I’m working on a quasi-rewrite RWBY fic and I didn’t know whether or not I should post the first chapter on my page or not. I just really don’t want the simps to come for my head (though it might happen anyway). But I’ve been writing this for about a year and a half now and I really want to post it but I’m so nervous about the reception and backlash. What do you think?

Thanks for answering me and indulging the fact that it’s okay to like something and still want it to be better (critics/the Rwde tag is my favorite because I can read opinions that I mused share but are too scared to put as a post).

Thanks, we picked Ironpines because we loved Ironwood and Oscar, and then our friends, being the good friends they are, immediately told us it was the ship name for them so now we can't have anything nice.

1) First off, yes, we absolutely think Jaune is an author's pet. We don't really go for self-insert anymore since everyone in RWBY was a self-insert, Monty clearly based them off his friends. But now, Jaune is absolutely an author's pet and has been since the start of the show.

Just look at Volume 1. Jaune literally had more of a storyline than Yang, one of the girls in the title. He then went on to have a dumb love triangle in V2, only to resolve it with Neptune without any input from Weiss, because why not, and then V3 was Jaune finally taking more of a step back for Pyrrha, who was long over due some character.

Until V4 where, rather than everyone mourning Pyrrha, we focused on Jaune mourning her instead. Nevermind that Pyrrha was Ren and Nora's teammate too, probably their only family since they're orphans, or how Ruby literally watched Pyrrha die in front of her. Nope, gotta focus on Jaune. Add that it stretches into V5 also, adding another storyline about his Semblance while Ren, Nora, and Ruby have to stand in the background and wait their turn, while Weiss literally loses all her braincells so she's injured for Jaune's development, how the confrontation with Cinder doesn't go to Ruby, the main protagonist, but Jaune.

Then we get that stupid statue scene in V6 that took over Oscar finally getting some development of his own. It's not even the whole team, because it's only Jaune that gets to meet the lady who totally isn't Pyrrha's mother, it's Jaune that gets the big teary moment, and how Ren and Nora have to stop and comfort Jaune because of course they have to.

I was glad that Jaune finally took a backseat in V7. I actually started to like him again, because he wasn't sucking screentime away from those who need it. But then V8 happened and now I want him dead.

I've said it countless times before so I don't wanna repeat myself, but Jaune is one of the last people that should've killed Penny. He shouldn't have killed her, he shouldn't have had the big tearful scene because another redhead died, he shouldn't have fallen into the void to join Team RWBY, but he did. Now there's no doubt in my mind that Jaune is a fucking author's pet, because the writers won't let him go into the background where he belongs.

2) There's not much to say about Team RWBY. They just suck now.

3) After watching V8, V5 is no longer my least favourite volume. That's how bad it was.

4) Yeah, RWBY's rep is absolute trash and it's because they keep putting it in supplemental material, and also because they look at the LGBT and only see L. The only MLM we have is Scarlet, and he's a catty fae gay stereotype that is so unlikeable and voiced by a creep. Nevermind the whole Fairgame queerbait controversy because this company can't stop themselves for five minutes.

5) I always say that, when you post work on the internet, whether its art of writing, you have to understand that you will get criticism back. It'll suck, especially when you've put so much time and effort into something, but that's the risk you have to take as a content creator.

The good thing is that AO3 has features that let you manage what you see properly. If people just want to hate without giving proper criticism, you can always remove it and ignore it, but I personally believe that people aren't entitled to criticism when it's only said nicely. Sometimes, people will get annoyed and say it in a meaner way, but that doesn't make the criticism any less valid.

Either way, decide based on how you think you'll react to it. If you don't want the stress of criticism, be careful, but if you think you can handle it? Then go for it, the world's your oyster.

[indiaalphawhiskey]

I respectfully disagree with your last post (as an author). I’ve been in this fandom for 6 years and noticed it’s a little bit toxic when it comes to certain issues that should be normal and obvious to anyone.

I don’t get the “I choose the people I want to take criticism from” part. Ok, so why posting your work on a public page for independent writers where every subscriber will be able to read it and comment on it? Just send it to the people whose opinion matters to you and have a discussion about your work with them. If you post your work on a public page made specifically for independent writers, you are automatically posting it for everyone on that site. And every person has opinions on things and feels invited to express it if that particular thing is public and comments are open (I’m talking about respectful opinions, not slurs and offending someone).

If it was only for you and the people you actually want to get feedback from then wouldn’t it be easier to create an “élite” group where you read your work and then discuss it together? Because your post sends a very negative and exclusionary message to people that are reading your work for the first time or without knowing you as an author. It really seems like you are saying “dear readers, your opinion doesn’t matter to me so unless it’s positive I don’t want to hear it because this fanfic was written for me and this list of people.” Then don’t post it. But why making people feel excluded or bad because they did something normal just because they didn’t know it wasn’t written “for them” as you said in your post. And constructive criticism is just an opinion too as long as it doesn’t contain vulgarities, you don’t have to listen to it. Other’s opinion shouldn’t change the way you feel about your work but you also shouldn’t make them feel uncomfortable and bad for expressing it in a respectful way on a public page.

I know that authors on AO3 aren’t paid and that’s just for fun, but that’s what every page like AO3 is about: putting your work out there for other people to read with the possibility to express their personal opinion in a respectful way (I mean, you CAN disable the comments). Why making it public and then complaining and making other people feel bad for expressing their opinion on it? It’s not a diary or a personal Instagram profile.

So, first off, thank you for saying you respectfully disagree with me. I appreciate that you’re trying to be polite. 

There are many different ways I can answer this ask, because there’s a lot to discuss here, however, I’m exhausted by this conversation and have tackled it many times before, so I’ll link things when I see fit and get straight to the point.

My question for you is this: What is the purpose of you posting negative  (even though well-worded, polite, and tactful) unsolicited comments on a person’s fanfic? Why do you do it?

That’s not a rhetorical question, I really want you to think about the answer, because, for something to be called “constructive criticism” (which is specifically what we’re discussing here, versus the opposite “destructive” criticism) there has to be a point beyond just the fact that “it’s a public forum” and therefore, you feel entitled to express your opinion, whatever it may be. (That reasoning, btw, is called entitlement. No one said you weren’t allowed to have an opinion, but if you’re saying it to the author with no constructive, bettering purpose behind it, then at worst, your intent is to hurt them, which is just mean, no matter how politely you word it, and at best, you’re saying your opinions and preference take precedent over the author’s own.)

There are three reasons that I assume one can have when posting constructive criticism on work/art:

1. You want to help make them be a better writer, both now and in the future. 

I, and other fellow authors, explain why this doesn’t work here and here, and there are more posts about it like this one, if you need to hear it from voices that are not from the Larry fandom (which I assume you do, since you said this is a little bit toxic here particularly.) 

I encourage you to read all those posts, to get a better explanation in context, but the gist of them is this: for something to be truly constructive (synonym: helpful), the source, the timing, and the tact is key. Let me demonstrate: There is a difference between telling a friend while shopping, “I wouldn’t buy that dress, it’s not the most flattering on you,” and saying, while you’re out at a club, “Oh, that dress isn’t the most flattering on you, I wouldn’t wear it again.” -- Both are honest, worded politely, and both will achieve the same outcome: she will not wear the dress again -- but only one of them will cause undue stress, embarrassment, and self-consciousness (under the guise of being helpful), and that is all due to tact and timing. At the store, she can change into something else, and won’t assume you think she looks awful the entire day while you’re out. At the club, the damage is done, there is nothing she can do to change it, and you’ve just ruined her night.

The same goes for writing. I have seen people gracefully and willingly rewrite their entire first drafts based on astute and even harsh comments on their work, by their betas. I have never seen someone take down a fic and edit it based on a piece of constructive criticism given by a stranger on AO3. What I have seen based on that scenario, is people taking that criticism to heart and reflecting on whether or not they ever want to write again, because when they made themselves vulnerable, some people looked at it as an opportunity to ask for what would cater best to their own tastes, instead of appreciating the work as a true product of the author’s personal feelings and experiences. That results in less writers for the fandom, less content, and a whole lot of undue discouragement which is not something we want (nor is it actually constructive).

2. You want to engage the author in a deeper discussion of their work.

This is in direct answer to this part of your ask:

It really seems like you are saying “dear readers, your opinion doesn’t matter to me so unless it’s positive I don’t want to hear it because this fanfic was written for me and this list of people.”

You feel passionate (both positively and negatively) about my work? That’s lovely. I say, start a discussion with me. Ask me questions. Learn why I made those decisions. A discussion starts with an invitation to have a conversation (two ways, you say something, I say something, rinse repeat). It doesn’t start with “I didn’t like” or “This could have been better if”, and it certainly doesn’t start in a public forum, like the comments on AO3, where the writer runs the risk of looking like a defensive asshole. 

But India, you say, what if I don’t have the means to have a private conversation/the writer doesn’t have tumblr/they’ve long since been inactive in the fandom? The answers are, respectively: leave a polite comment asking if they’re willing to discuss, if they are willing to discuss, leave a polite comment asking how to contact them, and if they’re no longer active, find other friends with which to discuss your feelings in private.

But India, that seems like so much work. It is, flat out. But if you really felt that strongly about something I wrote, you would make that effort to understand it. Otherwise, why not just walk away?

3. You don’t know better.

I found this part of your ask extremely interesting:

“But why making people feel excluded or bad because they did something normal just because they didn’t know it wasn’t written “for them” as you said in your post.”

The reason I found it interesting is because it means that there are people who assume that all work that is public was made for them, to suit their tastes, which is, frankly, a bizarre way to consume art. I do not go into The Louvre, look at the Mona Lisa and say “I don’t see the hype, it’s not something I would hang in my living room.” I look at it and think “What does this piece say about Da Vinci and his life? What has this brought to the world? How has this helped people/art/culture?”

(No, I am in no way comparing my talents to Da Vinci, I am not delusional. But, I don’t think my work deserves any less thought than that of a professional artist, simply because I’m an amateur and it’s on the internet and not in a gallery, and you have the superpower of anonymity.) You asked me what the point was in posting my work publicly if I didn’t want to hear every single person’s personal (negative) take on it, and the answer is this: I post what I write publicly, because I hope it helps someone. I hope my thoughts, feelings, experiences, loneliness validate someone, entertain them, help them through a tough time, bring them comfort. I post because I want to invite people to lose themselves alongside me, heal alongside me, dream alongside me. 

(Notice how I said “someone” and not “everyone”. How I said “someone” and not “an élite group that discusses my work”, because yes, I do hope that my work positively impacts someone outside of my betas, my friend group. Does that mean someone can leave negative comments on my work? Yes. But should they? That’s a different question.)

I know my work won’t be a positive experience for every single person, but my goal was never to be relevant to every single person. So, my question is, if I’m not relevant to you personally -- if my work doesn’t touch you personally, heal you personally, entertain you personally, why not just walk away and find something that does? Who does your negative opinion really help? How is it constructive? What is its purpose? Why do you do it?

I will apologize for this, though: I spoke on behalf of all writers, and maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have been clear that though many writers feel this way, not all do. There are some, such as, I assume, yourself, who do view negative comments on AO3 as constructive, whether or not they are solicited, and I’m sorry to have spoken on behalf of you. However, I do still stand by this, though: it is much better to be kind than be right, and that definitely goes for comments on fic.

[sepublic]

Happy Birthday to The Owl House!

           Honestly, I’m… REALLY shocked to think back on how it’s been a year? It’s been a full, actual year, since that first episode?

           I remember when The Owl House was first announced around early 2018. Something about it, the premise, the characters from that one poster we got; It really drew me in, and I kept track of the show’s progress in eager anticipation. Whenever Dana released art of Luz, Eda, and King, I was ecstatic- And when the show was delayed to 2020, I was dismayed.

           Then we got our teaser trailer; The opening them, the end credits, even a little sneak peek! I remember speculating a lot about Luz and all of the other new characters we were introduced to, such as Willow, Amity, and Gus- And then we got more and more trailers in the days leading up to the show. I wondered about Luz’s home back on Earth and where her family was, I listened intently to the Hooty and the Parliament music video, finding an almost melancholic, weirdly nostalgic (despite having never watched the show yet) vibe to it- Whilst also avoiding looking at the screen and seeing all of the various clips it offered, because I wanted to be surprised! It was two years of anticipation, two years of wait for this show- I’d never looked forward to a series before like this, last I can recall… So having this content FINALLY come out, seeing these characters in animation, hearing their wonderful voices! My soul was vibing, it was time, it was coming after all this time…!

          Eventually I finished Infinity Train Book 2, the same day that The Owl House premiered… I was blindsided when I woke up to the first episode’s release online, in full- I was already planning to wait until later to watch it on television, so having it permanently accessible from the internet was such a pleasant surprise! And the show… The show, man- That premiere caught me off-guard with how much I enjoyed it! I knew I was looking forward to this show, but still…! It blew away my expectations, and even now, has continued to; It was like my personal investment and attention had paid off so patiently well! I even got a DisneyNOW subscription so I could watch each new episode ASAP, the day it premiered, hours before it aired on television!

           I remember scouring Tumblr before the show officially premiered, and there was understandably very little- A few pieces of fanart here or there. And when the show DID premiere, for a while there wasn’t really much of a fandom- There was barely anyone, in fact! But I can remember a few notable blogs who have been around since the beginning… Me, I got invested into this show. I found myself really enjoying Lumity as a ship, especially since I resonated with both characters in it; Luz was such a ball of sunshine that brightened my day, and Amity really spoke to me with her more introverted, top-scoring personality. When the show hit its mid-season hiatus, I remember not handling it too well, as I got impatient and frantic in my speculations- I wanted so badly to learn more about these characters, see what happened- Get a look at Emperor Belos (then known as Bellows by the fandom), etc.

          I wrote my Bile Coven piece in preparation for Halloween, even got to know a mutual or two over shared theorizing! I kept track of Dana’s updates, and even had people come to my blog, of all places, to send asks! It was and still has been such an engaging part of fandom for me… I recall impatiently waiting for the Owl Pellet shorts and freaking out over them- And when Adventures in the Elements leaked early? I LOST MY MIND, I remember postponing something I was supposed to go to, just so I could watch the episode- And it was so good! Then I started wondering and hoping the rest of Season 1 would come out, and well- It took a while…

          And when Season 1B’s trailer came out, I was all over it; Scouring every possible frame, freaking out over the Grom screenshot, and appreciating the influx of new fans! It was amazing to watch The Owl House go from a relatively minor and obscure fandom, to becoming so much more mainstream and populous! I got into Rebecca Rose’s channel, I began writing more meta and posts about the show, as well as little recaps for each new episode. I feel like my blog really took off from here, as I got to interact with more and more people who shared this mutual love of The Owl House, and I was so ecstatic to see more content and buzz about it!

           My mind was solely focused on The Owl House, it was one of my huge hyperfixations, even moreso than during Season 1A’s run- I remember being anxious about Enchanting Grom Fright, wondering if we’d get queerbaited… But NO, Amity was in love with Luz! She canonically had a crush on her, a girl in love with another girl- And I loved it because Lumity was a special comfort ship of mine! Then Amity was confirmed lesbian… It was amazing! And I found myself SO invested, so inspired by the show and its characters, and all of the little allusions to things, the foreshadowing, the moments here or there that made so much more sense after a new episode.

           This show inspired me creatively- It got me to write some of my personal favorite fanfics, and I was and still am so touched by whatever feedback I get from them! The Owl House really got me to write, to obsess over characters and analyze them, to look at motifs, to think about worldbuilding… It’s been such an artistically enriching experience, both the show and the fandom! I remember despairing so terribly when Agony of a Witch came out, the genuine betrayal I had when Lilith revealed the truth- Because I’d been legitimately endeared to her character beforehand, even formed a sort of ‘trust’ in a sense… And like many others, I agonizingly anticipated the season finale, the much-needed emotional reconciliation!

           I remember how the episode titles were revealed, bit by bit, and how I and others speculated on what they’d spell out! I remember when the fandom obsessed over the Witch’s Apprentice game and its relics, for clues and new lore after each episode, the little hints here or there! I was freaked out by characters like Belos, who lived up to my hopes and expectations- First being alluded to by name, then his amazing appearance… And then his voice and mannerisms and everything about him! And when the Season Finale came out…

           Well, there was relief. But there was a bittersweet emptiness- That it was over! The first season was over! There was a celebratory triumph, of course- We finally wrapped up the first, major arc of the show, the first batch of episodes that had been worked upon, the whole thing now unveiled and appreciated! But I was a little dismayed because a part of me KNEW a hiatus much longer than the previous one was ahead of me, and I did not handle the mid-season hiatus well. Of course, then Dana had her Reddit AMA, and the charity livestream; Both of which NOURISHED me creatively, and have helped to fill out the wait! To carry out my momentum, to not flounder about in hiatus; I invested myself into more meta, into various posts, etc. I read fanfiction that genuinely floored me, obsessed over fanart, etc.

           I supported the show’s release on Disney Plus, ecstatic to get this kind of ready access. I revisited past episodes and characters, looking at them in a new light, appreciating things; Like Luz’s relationship with fantasy… King’s surprising development, all of Eda’s little hints and clues. There’s been an emotional catharsis with these characters for me- And I genuinely feel like I’ve been a lot happier lately because of this show! I’ve met so many other blogs and gotten to know them, seen their ideas and displayed mine as we appreciated one another… I even remember doing another blog’s fanart prompt prior to the show’s release, in preparation!

           I feel like The Owl House has genuinely given me a new appreciation for meta, for fandom and analysis… For headcanons, for writing my own stories and contributing my own ideas and speculations, etc.! It’s contributed SO much joy to me as a hyperfixation, and rapidly risen through my blog as my most frequent tag! And even as I explore other fandoms and hyperfixations, both then and now, especially to pass on this crippling hiatus… This show holds a VERY special place in my heart for me. It’s really made me feel for these characters, the love and sadness, the excitement and sense of comfort… Its love and emotions, angst and found family, lore and speculation, it hits so hard to me in a way that other media hasn’t!

           It’s provided representation- Such as canonically queer characters, or protagonists who speak so well to the neurodivergent experience for many people! I’ve had delight in seeing people suggest Amity as autistic, when before Season 1B, I lowkey headcanoned and saw her as such- So seeing more evidence for this resonated deeply in my heart! I remember all of the discussion about King as a character, the confusion and talk about whether or not he WAS a King of Demons, when that first announcement in 2018 had made a similar claim… I looked forward to Eda and Lilith’s relationship, speculated on who cursed Eda, and remembered when I’d considered the Blights as a potential culprit! I remember thinking about Hooty, wondering what his deal is- And thinking then and now about that Owl Deity mural in the Owl House! Watching Luz’s development as a character and as a witch, seeing her become more proficient with magic until it finally pays off with her squaring up against Belos, and wounding him- I’d never felt so proud of a character and their progress before!

           There’s still so many more questions and mystery, lore… as well as just genuine character interactions, to look forward to! I think The Owl House is one of my favorite shows of all time… It’s deeply touched me as a person and creator, and I genuinely strive to create something even close to this one day. This show has inspired me, made me laugh and cry, compelled me to creatively make content; It’s introduced me to a wider fandom that I genuinely feel like a part of, had me meet other mutuals… It really is something special to me. And while I am eager for Season 2, I also want to appreciate what Dana Terrace and her crew have already established. I love this show’s art style and animation, the designs and overall weirdness of its characters- I love speculating and thinking about them, getting more and more details, and so forth.

           If it’s for a better product, I’m fine waiting for Season 2. And honestly, I love what we already have, and I’ve done a lot with so many people. I’ve even looked over supplementary materials and stuff posted by the crew or news articles, in my need for content… And I love every bit of update, art, and/or acknowledgement of the show’s hiatus, and Season 2’s development! There’s so much to look forward to… And there’s so much that I’ve enjoyed, after plenty of anticipation!

           Thank you @danaterrace, and everyone who worked on this- For everything. It really is crazy to reflect on this entire year, to realize it’s been a full year since that first episode, since that first premiere that lit up my world like Luz’s light spells; And it feels like such a milestone that we’ve reached! I look forward to what comes next, and I also intend to keep appreciating and cherishing what we’ve already gotten. Here’s to this show’s second year, people- It’s been such a journey to look back on and remember each step, each phase, each particular moment and stage… And I can only imagine what will come next! This show has SUCH a special place in my heart, and has made me feel in so many ways I haven’t before!

           Happy Birthday, The Owl House! You’ve earned it!

[loafbud]

Updates on my Socials

Mainly Twitter, Instagram, and DeviantArt (and other sites, but these are my main ones I was formerly active on)

Since my confidence in being a creative has been waverin' and teeterin', I just decided to leave said socials entirely.

Coz for a very long time, I'm just now realizing how much energy social media can take out of me. Like... just scrolling through Twitter or posting art on Instagram has me feeling drained completely after.

And I realize why. Opening Twitter and checking my dA and IG was always the first thing I did when I wake up. Ritually. Like, before I even drank water. Right off the bat, I've already set myself up to have a fatigue kinda day, y'know?

And it just feels like lately I'm going through a social media hibernation period anyhow. And whenever I don't take that detox, I just plow forward and what I get in the end? Creative burnout, fatigue, and perfectionism. AKA, That's That Bullshit!!

I actually wanna take steps (finally lol) into putting myself first, and to make sure I don't distract myself with said sites ever again. I spent the whole day yesterday having my first 24 hours with Twitter and IG uninstalled (and Mario Kart Tour coz wow, I let that be a distraction attraction for me long enough) and I can already feel the difference of feeling well-rested.

On top of that, it just felt like I was sharing my art to the void. Imma keep it real. Lately, I've been getting the good-ol' "underappreciation" illusionary feelery in my headspace. And August 8th was when I had that mental snap and was like "Forget it. I'm done giving to places I feel incomplete in. Peace. ✌🏿". And it's not even that I physically see it – I just feel it. Like an energetic shift, yeah? And trying to live up to the whole "putting yourself out there" and "show the world your light" just felt very exhausting to me.

I plan to initiate a healthy habit of mine and just abandon my Twitter, IG, and DeviantArt altogether from posting artwork.

In terms of Twitter, that includes both my main/personal and my Obey Me! fandom Twitter (I'm still a fan and play the game, I just lost interest in putting my energy into posting art there). The leave was rather abrupt and decided at the turn of a dime, but I feel resolute with all this! I won't hesitate to move on and find something better for me as a creative. I want to go back to how things were for me in the past: before I allowed social media into my life. Where I had no socials to worry about, and just let my imagination and creativity and fun times run rampant. Because I realized my best times creatively was when I never used sites like Twitter (or even knew it existed). I had no interest in seeking outside validation. I shared what I would create, yes, but it would be out of passion and because I personally was proud and happy with what I created and KNEW my worth, and I had a desire to let the world know. But leading up to now, when I do this, it's out of seeking validation... and falling into that trap led me to forget to validate myself from within.

While I will stop sharing my art on those places, I won't entirely stop posting new art – OCs & fanart, both one-off pieces and bigger projects – on the internet.

From now on, my main focus of posting new artwork is on Artfol, Toyhouse, and here!

I feel a lot more comfortable posting on Artfol mostly, and Toyhouse I use an an OC archive. Here, while I do post art, I mostly use this site as an excuse to just ramble on about whatever. Here, not everything I post is artwork.

So yeah, I just wanted to type this all out! While I don't consider Tumblr as a site I'd actively use, you can still expect me to post here every now and then.

I want to post art to Artfol, Tumblr, and Toyhouse, to limit how many places I post at once, but to still have a voice in creative form. Somewhere. I just won't give my attention, energy, or focus to Twitter anymore. Or Instagram. Or DeviantArt.

This came out longer than expected,, but I just wanted to post this uodate here! See ya!

[atrixfromice]

How to inspire an Artist

Hi there folks! Howdy!

Today on Late Night Ramblings I’ll talk about a very valuable piece of advice and facts nobody have ever written on the internet, cos I think it’s very importan since not much people know it.

And yes  Late Night Ramblings it’s a section of my blog since a good while! LOL I’ve done a lot of these I thought I needed to dedicate it a section.

I know most of you (or probably all of you) have met me and follow me thanks to my fanart of various cartoon characters. And probably a lot of you are expecting to see fanart more than original characters or sci-art, and I think that's great because I like drawing fanart a lot, but I is true I don't draw only fanart, but I draw other things too because that depends of the inspiration of the moment.

It depends of my physical and mental state to get the inspiration, and when the inspiration strikes, I can draw one or another theme many times, on a row. And there are times when I draw a lot of stuff with theme in particular and I have to take a break from that one subjet.

So I just would like to say that there will be times when I'll draw, for example, more fanart, or more animals, or more original charactes.

And there will be times where I'll just take a break of drawing all and I’ll start drawing landscapes, for example. Because the inspiration for new stuff about what I usually draw is running out at the moment, and I need to take a break of it so the energy can "recharge" and I can get the inspiration for that again.

So, I just would like to reassure you and tell you that if some time on the future you see I'm not drawing what you’ve been following me for so often, or not at all, don't worry about it.

It doesn't mean I no longer like it, it just means I've probably drawn it a whole lot of it before and I need to take a break, so the inspiration and mood for that shows up again. It also might mean that I’m passing through some difficult moments in the personal and I’m not on a stable mood to produce art. But that will also past.

That said, how you can inspire an artist? Well that's the coolest part of what I'm writting in this post.

I've always believed that the fans of an artist ARE the fuel to their inspiration, and this have been true to me for more than two decades since I started sharing my art with the internet.

There's a way I can be inspired to draw more art from a particular theme, and it's YOU.

Yes you heard it well. Is that YOU give me the fuel straight to my heart!

How? By hanging out with me being a true friend to me!

And it's a very simple and easy thing to do, a lot easier than you think.  Like for example, If you like one of my art pieces with a theme, and would like me to draw more of that theme, then go ahead and tell me about what did you like from that one piece in particular.

Do you want me to draw a new fictional character from a cartoon I've never watched before, then, talk me about that character and that cartoon! Tell me, why you like them? How you felt when you first discovered they existed? What feelings the character inspires you? what there is in their personality that makes you love them?

Do you want me to draw more Sonic the hedgehog related fanart? Madagscar franchise,  or another franchise's fanart? Then geek out with me about these franchises! More sci-fi or steampunk art? Then share me your favorite movie or ideas for steampunk art!

You want me to draw fanart from movie I don't know about? Then talk me about what you loved from that movie! Talk me about your favorite episode of that series! And so on.

I think I could make a lot of other examples, but I'm sure you already got the idea.

If you don't do this, no matter how much desire to please you I can have or how skillful I am, I'll never be able to make the art you would love me to make, because without your fuel for those themes, I'm like a car without gas, a computer without electricity, a space rocket without kerosene, a windmill without wind.

And no matter the computer is top notch or if the car is a lambortini, without fuel, they'll never work. And in the other hand, something that happens with me, is that with the right fuel I can become a top notch computer or a lambortini and draw anything in the world!

And yeah, that’s what I mean when I say to people who ask me “what you can draw?” and I reply “All what your imagination wishes”

I’ve been found myself many times drawing stuff I didn't know I could draw just because a friend of mine have been made me excited about that movie/show character. XD

And is not just me the only one artist who works that way, there's a ton of artists (I'd even dare to say all artists) whose inspiration is heavily influenced by the people they love, admire, and look up to. Like friends, family, the people on their social networks/patreon etc, who are fans of their work and HAVE TOOK THE TIME TO TALK WITH THEM AND KNOW THEM BETTER!

So, now you know how to inspire and artist. :D And I hope this piece of advice can be useful.

I've learned it over the years, not only with my self experiences with the fans of my art, but also hanging out and genuinely caring about other artists, and offering them my sincere frienship.

So please go ahead and BE A TRUE FRIEND TO THE ARTISTS YOU ADMIRE! Listen to them and care about them and love them like you do with yourself. Hang out with them, ask them if they’re doing alright. And when they’re having a bad day and post about it, go and offer them comfort and love.

We appreciate it!

Of course, “there’s everything on in the vineyard of the Lord” as my mom uses to say. There are also some weird artist who don’t appreciate it and don’t want to interact with the peeps who admire their art, but they are a few.

Most of artists do appreciate and are grateful for all the love and support you give to us!

[oneweekoneband]

her Nebraska (1982)

In July I flew to Massachusetts with a plague on, and I felt that it was wrong, but my mother had begged and I’d been out of work for months. Mornings there I ran in long, uneven ovals on the same roads I’d memorized in high school. There’s no sidewalks, but the few feet of dirt between the craggy pavement and the open mouths of the fields serve all right for a single body in motion. When a truck comes up close from behind, the ground shakes, and I step away bouncingly from the street toward thigh-high yellow weeds and grass, and keep going. I was slowly picking my way back in that dirt, sweat-slick from only a plodding couple of miles in peak summer heat, and sucking the wet cotton of my mask in between my teeth on every inhale, when Taylor Swift announced she was releasing a surprise album produced by the guy from The National. Not the guy from The National, like, the voice, but the guy from The National whose photo was circulated on Twitter earlier this year as some kind of antifa super soldier, which isn’t the case, but would’ve been rad. First, I stopped dead to send some outraged, misspelled text messages, and then I ran home faster than I’d moved in years.

Tall, blonde, patrician pop star Taylor Swift is to me something like a cross-between a wife and a boogeyman. Bound we’ve been since we were really children. Time and its changes haven’t rid me of her, and what’s worse is I have never quite been able to wish they would, though I claim as much all the time. Countless hours of my one wild and precious life have been spent on endlessly analyzing the minutiae of Taylor Swift’s music, the mind that made it, the real world events which influenced it. And though all the while I have known she is only a person, and that people, while each strange and lovely in their own ways, are, in the end, mostly dull, needful in just the regular manner, the fantasy is better, the sick dream of a megalomaniac songstress, curious, thrilling, probably evil, and I choose that. I don’t know Taylor Alison Swift, born to this world in, I presume, the usual way. But my Taylor Swift? I’m a renowned expert. I’ve always eaten up stories—movies, music, celebrity news, the one my grandfather tells about falling off his bike once in Ireland as a boy and his face “cracking open like an egg”—like a starved dog. I’m obsessive about my interests, but not inclined to intense fandom, and certainly not fandom in the mode of the stan. For one, I’m too self-absorbed. But caring intensely for a famous person is falling in love with a ghost, and that’s all right—I mean, what the hell? We’re here together just dying... Let’s enjoy—but is an affair best undertaken with the knowledge that everyone alive has their own complex interiority, as unruly as your own, and that you, a stranger, are not in any real way connected to the lawless, blurry middle of that celebrity, and will never be. It’s freeing and fun to know this. I mean, these people are basically in your employ. Glamorous dollhouse dwellers. Acknowledging that uncrossable distance allows for a different, healthier closeness of pure imagination. My feelings, then, can comfortably be at once both fiercely intense and entirely silly. I am a foremost scholar in the art of the Taylor Swift who exists in my head. The real person raised in Pennsylvania I don’t know at all. I have some conjectures on the matter, and, as with all my conjectures, every hackneyed theory, each picky little opinion, I’m sure they’re perfect, brilliant, just absolutely right, but that’s still all they are. Taylor Swift, figure of the cultural imagination, is the Jodie Comer to my Sandra Oh in Killing Eve, annoying and pretty in frills, taunting me endlessly and holding us trapped together in a dance of most enchanting death. But the real Taylor Swift has favorite bed sheets and a social security number and a British boyfriend, none of which I have any desire to know about, and if I saw her at a restaurant I’d politely avert my eyes before, yes, dive-bombing the group text. There’s nobody on Earth I’d stand in line to speak to, but then I’ve been speaking to a certain figment of Taylor Swift for nearly half my life.

I went to a Taylor Swift concert the night before I moved into college in 2009. My father’s work friend, firefighter by day, near professional gambler by night, got comped tickets to the Fearless Tour stop taking place at the nearby casino, and he let me have them as a reward, mainly, for happening to be seventeen. Live in-person and performed acoustically, “Fifteen” made me cry. A few years after that, in the thick, sticky part of my first post-college summer, I wrote approximately twenty-three million words about her in these very pages.  (”Pages”) At that point, Taylor’s most recent release was 2012’s Red, and the work I produced that long ago July about Taylor and her career, writing I was fairly pleased with at the time, feels now, besides just being extremely clearly written by a twenty-one year old, strange to me for the way it favors the sweet over the sour almost uniformly. There is a wholesome kind of ardor in that writing which maybe I’ve outgrown the ability to hold. Or maybe Taylor just proceeded to spend the next half a decade plus releasing one bad single after another, and it was taste—and trespasses against taste—and not some shift in my nature which altered the tenor of our bond. I have real love for my particular image, gleaned from public statements and published art, of smart, bizarre famous woman Taylor Swift, and I admire the bulk of her output very much. I’m just no longer so inclined to fawn. This is not to say I am here to offer a Taylor Swift hate screed. I couldn’t swing it, and, anyway, I’m not a pop feminist-for-hire circa 2010. But we’re older now. Things are different. At twenty-eight, twenty-nine this month—Taylor will, also this December, turn thirty-one—I regard Taylor Swift warily, like an ex with whom you have a tentative friendship, perpetually on the brink of falling one way or the other into hatred or delight, only to wobble back the opposite direction again at the slightest provocation, but still, despite best efforts, even, I regard her all the time. 

folklore was released at midnight on July 24th 2020, but I was at a cabin in rural Vermont without Internet or cell service. I drank Bud Light seltzers with my mother while watching the eerie pandemic return of Major League Baseball, and when I got into a strange bed there I stewed, knowing there were people out in the world all over who were hearing Taylor Swift songs I never had, and that this was a fundamental wrong, a disruption in the balance of the universe. I listened to it the next morning in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot. 

And folklore is great. That’s the terrible thing. Slightly less great, maybe, than some people have insisted, tricked, I think, by just the pronounced shift in sound. But it’s great. A little gift I asked for a thousand times and was still surprised to get, like a wife who didn’t expect her henpecked husband to ever follow through and buy the paraffin wax hand bath as-see-on-TV. For years, I’ve been halfheartedly insisting that Taylor had a great album in her. I’d say it even, perhaps especially, while she stubbornly fed me gruel. Or worse, gruel with the occasional whiff of something better. With a ripe, little raspberry dropped into the slop. The bright, villainous thrill of “Getaway Car” made me believe Taylor, my Taylor, was in there somewhere under the lacquer of sequins and synth, which, while not objectionable by default, seemed a costume, and an ill-fitting one. The lived-in world of “Cornelia Street” made those old scars sting. That gay “Delicate” video. When she did “Call It What You Want” on SNL and played guitar while wearing an ugly sweater. If the abominable “ME!”, lead single off Lover, was the stick, 1989’s “Clean” was the carrot. I was Charlie Brown, and Taylor my Lucy, yanking the football back again and again. Over drinks I still yelled that Taylor Swift’s next album would be, “her Nebraska”, referring to my favorite Bruce Springsteen record, and learned to live with that egg on my face for good. I suppose I even came to like it. There was something inherently funny in taking up, like, “blind faith in the as of yet untapped greater artistic potential of massively wealthy and popular singer Taylor Swift” as my totally inane personal cause du jour, and eventually it was a bit, a gag I performed to be obstinate and didactic, but way down somewhere awful near my kidneys I meant it the whole while. And then she did it. A pandemic befell the world and amid a sea of human suffering Taylor Swift remembered she can write. She wrote, and with a massive, crucial assist from Aaron Dessner, whose music on this record is sometimes so beautiful it actually angers me, as the last thing I needed in already perilous times was to be made to try and marry my uniquely perverse emotional responses to beloved divorced dad band The National and fucking Taylor Swift,  she made an album which, if not her Nebraska, per se (I’ve come to realize that a major part of believing Taylor Swift will one day make an album I find as quietly devastating and gorgeous as Nebraska is knowing that no album will ever actually be Her Nebraska... That each will, rather, to me, be more and more evidence that it’s coming still, more proof that the limit is untouched, on and on ad infinitum, or at least until the seas take us into a place of salty peace.) is a shocking credit to all my hard-fought and deluded confidence. folklore is great. This fact has made me feel almost equally as disoriented from my understanding of the world as the time-melting COVID-19 lockdowns have, and it turned my Spotify year in review annual collective AI humiliation kink thing into a glaring indictment of my mental state, but still, I mean... It’s great.

In talking about folklore a bit this week, there are a number of specific topics I intend to cover—what a thrill it is to hear Taylor say “fuck”; Taylor’s terrifying birth chart; the astoundingly perfect bridge of “the last great american dynasty”; “because my ass is located at the back of my body”; the bit in last year’s “Lover” where deranged WASP Taylor Swift implies that to “leave the Christmas lights up til January” is some signifier of being a love-struck bohemian, when actually everyone who doesn’t employ domestic staff to take their lights down does this; how reputation is the best of the Taylor Swift records released in the latter half of the 2010s, actually, and the people who can’t see that are cowards—but intend mostly to let the muse move me where she will. Against the advice of my better angels, she—that tie-in marketing eldritch terror—always does.

[wannabepygmalion]

30 factoids let’s gooo

( i just felt like doing these for fun... seeing briar do it + the ask memes got me thinking and i had the urge lmao )

1. His favorite Sanrio character is Cinnamoroll!! Also a fan of Marumofubiyori and Pompompurin.

2. Domino enjoys some music from pretty much any genre, but his favorite music usually is of the pop rock-pop punk-rock umbrella of sounds. He likes music that you could shout along to for Emotional Release (even though he will not actually do the shouting. he just still likes that vibe). 

3. He likes Animal Crossing. Probably doesn’t care too much about having a super finished and decorated island, but I imagine he tends to drift towards fall/autumn aesthetics and cottagecore vibes for what he does do… I think some of his favorite villagers would include Sylvana, Marshal, Teddy, Patty, Chief, Benjamin, Anabelle, Eunice, Shep, Hazel… he likes most of the Sanrio villagers too.

4. His favorite season is autumn, unsurprisingly.

5. Domino really likes dyeing his hair! He likes the sensation of looking in the mirror afterwards and his reflection feeling Different. 

6. He’s just so into art and art history. Once you get him to open up and he doesn’t feel like he’s annoying you, he will happily talk your ear off about (checks watch) the Corinthian order of Ancient Greek architecture. 

7. Also he does enjoy himself a little K-pop. He’s not super, super into it, but he has some groups he follows. Likes some songs he comes across. This is largely because I like to think about what kind of idols he’d bias since I”m so into it. I would name some groups he’d like, but I doubt any of them would still be around by 2030--

8. Growing up, his family never had any pets! Too busy. I think, honestly, Domino’s maybe never lived in a household that had pets, only met other people’s briefly. He would enjoy having a pet someday, but right now he doesn’t feel stable enough or like his life situation is good for a pet.

9. He has a couple fake succulents in his bedroom. He is currently too nervous that he’ll accidentally kill one and feel awful about it to try looking after a real plant.

10. His roommate’s name is Atlas! Atlas is a Twitch streamer who’s been getting more popular recently due to Minecraft roleplay, and is also a musician. Atlas’ online handle is Bird; his real identity is not public information.

11. Which. Yes, Domino has played Minecraft. But only on creative mode. He thinks it’s fun to build when his brain needs to chill, not really here for combat and all that.

12. He has a tattoo of a larkspur flower on one of his forearms; he got this pretty recently! Within the last 3 months or so.

13. He is banned from every Jamba Juice. If you ask him about this, he will either avoid it or tell you a different story every time.

14. Domino is actually really good at drawing as well as sculpting, but he heavily prefers sculpting. He’s been drawing for longer, but, when he first tried sculpting, something about it just clicked with him that he’d never experienced prior. 

15. He doesn’t drink alcohol, nor does he consume caffeine!

16. Atlas is also a faceless streamer -- his audience doesn’t know Domino exists beyond Atlas mentioning he has a roommate. Domino would like to keep it that way as much as possible.

17. He’s not a big spender… a good chunk of the money he earns from working goes to general life expenses -- rent, groceries, etc. He is not rich by any means. Money that’s leftover gets put away for when he needs to buy more art supplies; he spent a hot minute saving up for his tattoo since he wanted it to be nice.

18. Domino has an Instagram, but he doesn’t really do the “social” aspect of it. He just uses it more like a portfolio to post his work. Doesn’t respond to comments or anything, doesn’t look at it otherwise.

19. In general, he kinda avoids social media besides, like. Youtube and Twitch, and even then, he’s a diehard lurker for everything. He has spent some time browsing R/ddit, though, because it’s a decent place to see people talking about extremely specific experiences. Been on some specific forums too. Sometimes stuff like that makes him feel more validated and shit. Only valid R/dditor on the planet, etc. He absorbs other internet culture via osmosis from Atlas anyway.

20. He doesn’t drive! He still has a license for the sake of having a valid ID, but doesn’t drive with it. Doesn’t even have a car.

21. He has an older brother, who’s an engineer. He’s a couple years older and is off married somewhere else having an extremely normal life. Domino is estranged from his brother and has never met said brother’s wife. Probably didn’t even go to their wedding, honestly.

22. Domino doesn’t do commission work! He just kinda… does things at his own pace, then displays and eventually sells his work when it’s done.

23. The agent Domino works with is an older woman who works at a local art gallery that kinda took him under her wing. For obvious reasons. I mean, look at him. Her name is Veronica McCoy. Yes, I just took two names from Riverdale and slapped them together.

24. He doesn’t believe in soulmates! Or love at first sight, for that matter.

25. Domino’s usual typing style is actually a lot more laid back and casual -- no capitals, more prone to shortening words, etc. However, he types a lot more formally when it’s appropriate and/or he’s not comfortable with everyone in the convo. Similarly, he’ll loosen up a little in-person as he grows more at ease with you. To no one’s surprise, he will not give anyone nicknames unless they tell him to call them something else… he doesn’t want to offend.

26. Yes, he can and will swear if he’s comfortable with you. Yes, Domino can and will say ‘fuck’ -- though, he doesn’t throw it around constantly like some of my other characters. 

27. Domino has read a translation of all of Ovid’s ‘Metamorphoses.’ He loves that shit.

28. I think cows are one of his favorite animals… he just thinks they’re cute and have very sweet faces. He never wants to touch T/kTok (or its future equivalent) with a 10-foot pole, but he would be very pleased if you sent him videos of cute animals. Curated content with none of the stress.

29. When very focused working on something, he tends to stick his tongue out. :P

30. Some plants I would associate with him include: cyclamen, columbine, and meadow saffron!

[bizarrelovesquare]

Hello, it’s Evie, and this is my new account!

brief explanation under the cut so I can get it off my chest, but it’s not required to read <3

I realized over the last several months that I did not like being perceived the way I was online, and that I have the power to just walk away and start over on a smaller scale and avoid anything I don’t want to be part of. In July, with no warning, I cleared out and abandoned/deactivated any accounts around the web that didn’t make me happy. All I have now are this, pinterest, ao3, and a new private twitter just for close friends.

Being online had come to feel like an expectation, no longer something for recreation, and most of it wasn’t fun. It honestly had been feeling that way for awhile, but I reached the last straw when I briefly got involved with a fandom on twitter (yuck) several months ago that was absolutely horrid. I realized what a mess it all really was, I finally snapped, and I got the hell away from everything and everyone.

It was easy to leave other sites because there was so much that I wanted to escape from--the hostility and toxicity, people’s dumbassery, the feeling of not being adequate enough as an artist, the pressure to get constant interaction, feeling like I was being watched all the time by hundreds to thousands of people who didn’t care about me as a person, etc. Social media was too much for my introvert self. However, I was on the fence about what I wanted to do with tumblr, so I sat on it for two months and mulled it over. I actually love this site because it’s mostly chill and has the best format, it’s creative, and it’s easy to avoid anything you don’t want to see, but I just didn’t love the baggage that I had on my old blog. I’d been on there since 2013 and had grown and changed a lot, particularly over the past year, and there was so much way back in there that didn’t represent who I’ve come to be, and it honestly made me feel stuck, even after I tried changing my url, giving that blog a makeover, and being more myself.

Several years ago, I spent an ungodly amount of time on this site trying to appeal to others, instead of letting myself just exist authentically and showcase all of my personality. I got fandom popular pretty early on, and for a long time, it made me feel like it was my duty to post about the things that got me popular and make original posts that my heart wasn’t even halfway into, worded in a way that would get notes. Keep in mind, I was younger and dumber when doing that and had nothing else going for me at that time (it was a low point in life). I definitely grew out of that mentality, but I couldn’t get away from all the posts I’d made that I no longer cared about that wouldn’t stop getting notes and the reputation I had developed for being known for a particular thing. I felt like there were too many followers who weren’t really there for me as a person or any other niche interests of mine, and it was really holding me back from just posting what I want and as much as I want, even after I quit caring and tried to just present as the real me. I knew it was my blog and it didn’t matter what others wanted, but I think the main thing was that I felt held back by my older ways of using tumblr, and I realized that I don’t want anything from that period of my life still attached to me. I didn’t know who I was back then, so I defined myself by an obsession. These days, I want people to see me as a whole person with a real life who just happens to also really like some things.

On top of that, again back when I was several years younger and at the lowest point of my life, I used to vent way too much about negative things in my personal life that don’t matter anymore, and even though I went through my archive and deleted them all, even though I know nobody else remembers them or is looking at them, I still knew that they happened, and I didn’t want that energy to keep following me. There was also evidence of ex-friendships and relationships I’m not proud of, ways I acted that I just don’t vibe with now, and just too much I remember that didn’t represent current-day me, and I want to actually break the connection to those memories. So with all of that, I decided I’d feel best to remake and start fresh. I got away from negative feelings everywhere else, so why not here, too? Any posts on the old blog that I love can eventually be reblogged over here. I’m going to curate a fresh new gallery of things I love, while feeling at peace about the whole thing.

My life is nothing like it was years ago. I’m actually happy with myself and my life and have been for nearly a year now. I know who I am now. I’ve healed/am healing from a lot of personal things. I have budding careers in everything I love and am working towards my dream life. I’m not ashamed of anything about myself. I still have bad days sometimes, but I don’t live in my misery. I like being positive and want to stay that way as much as possible.

I also never really let me show myself as a creator as much as I would have liked before, and I want to focus more on that from now on. As far as fan content goes, I’ve gotten back into writing fics and am no longer scared to share them. I’ve been working more on cosplay this year than I have in years. I also want to try to get into making gifs. Additionally, I am a writer (fiction and non), photographer, and aspiring designer in real life, so some original work might show up now and then, too, if it’s something I’m really proud of. I also want to post about mental health and recovery. My blog will still have plenty of fan content, but I want to sprinkle in some other things that are important to me as well.

I just want to be in a quiet peaceful corner among good people. Lately, I’ve realized that I want my life to be as lowkey as possible, both online and irl. I just want to vibe and do my thing for myself, surrounded by a few good friends. I learned way too late that fandoms are hell if you branch out too far, and that I also hate being in the spotlight, even in regards to things I create. I don’t exist for the consumption of others, and that’s such a freeing thing to realize. Anything I post/rb is solely because I want it on my blog; I don’t care what happens to it after I put it there. I post for me, I make my art for me (and sometimes my jobs), and if my friends enjoy it, and if I make new friends along the way, that’s awesome! But impressing everybody is just not a thing I can nor want to do anymore. You don’t have to run yourself ragged trying to spread yourself across the internet, whether as a fan or a creator. If a site was to disappear, what do all those likes and followers mean? Absolutely nothing. At the end of the day, all you have is you and how YOU feel about yourself, so spend your time on here (or anywhere, really) existing for you, first and foremost.

I’ve gone back to my very old internet days of not trying to impress anyone, while combining that mentality with the wisdom and sense of self that I’ve gained with age. Maybe you won’t be able to tell a difference, but I’m the one living in my head, and I definitely can tell that I’ve grown, a lot in my life has changed, and I am much more confident in myself, and I want to have a blog that 100% feels like me and has no bad associations attached. I’m not the first person to make a new account and won’t be the last. Things like this are supposed to mostly be FOR FUN, and too many people these days have gotten away from that. Don’t feel like you have to keep living up to some reputation that was built years ago, and don’t feel like you exist for others. Be yourself, embrace changes as you grow, do what’s comfortable and healthy for you and makes you happy, and the right people will like you for that. The most important of them being you. <3

[kevv]

a goodbye letter- abandoning current social media

i'm not the best at writing out my thoughts. forgive me if this feels scrambled and scraped together. my best friend, Fox, once said in abridged words; "it takes two to play out an abandonment fantasy, one to have it, and the other to follow suit".

i've known several handfuls of people who fear abandonment, or more specifically, being the one abandoned; scared that one day everyone in their life will take leave. and sometimes, like a self-fulfilling prophecy, they do. they leave in mass exodus, set into motion by one person who wants to set-forth their own abandonment fantasy– abandoning everyone else.

for me, my own fear of abandonment is not anyone abandoning me, i'm unbothered by people entering my life and leaving of their own accord; i'm scared i'll be the one to abandon everyone in my life. because i have. several times. i still do, even. i'll meet people in my lifetime that i loved harder than the universe itself, a deep love so terrifying i feel that it'll demolish cities and townships, friends and lovers and found-family. my skin will buzz and blaze alight with such an intense fear, a fear that i will ruin them and everything they are so i must run. it's unfounded, but it drives me away, and i fight tooth and nail to get to that escape route for those who won't let me leave quietly, until it ends in disaster. it's my own abandonment fantasy. i recall once, an ex-lover wanted me to stay. tried to lock the door and toss away the key, and said it hurt that i wanted an out. so i caused problems until i could break out through the window. not being allowed an option to leave made me feel like a feral, caged animal; because in the end, that's all i am. i hadn't done it on purpose. the need to escape everything had been there months prior. the events leading up to it had been fuzzy at best, sickly at worst, and i had been spoonfed misinformation. not on purpose, not in malicious intent, but still it struck genuine fear in my heart. like a feral animal, i want the option to roam. to come and go as i please. i can't be kept, i just want the trust that i'll find my way back eventually. if i feel contained, i scratch and bite until i'm released. but if you hold out your hand and wait patiently, i'll come to you. but don't ask me to stay. please don't ask me to stay. there's a lot that lead up to this current migration. the inability to be allowed to stand on my own two-feet and exist as just purely Kevin, not adjacent to someone, was a big one. still to this day i am asked about a youtuber i am no longer affiliated with by my own choice. i don't like attention, it's something i've said to her, said to many, and why i chose to never appear in her videos. which seems contradictory for an artist who posts on social media and previously did all of her older channel art. but maybe now i'm realizing that truthfully, i wanted recognition for me, not for others or for who i made myself sick in order to create content for. it's inescapable. i harbor no hard feelings anymore, i understand i was in the peak of my codependency and was willing to ruin myself for the benefit of another. to run myself broke and dry because at 19 years old i was still a child who didn't know how to handle the extent of his emotions. i want to apologize to penny. neither of us are really blameless, but we were inexperienced and young– still young. it's easy to not know what we're doing, to unintentionally take advantage of someone who was willing to burn themselves to give you warmth, or to latch onto an unfounded rumor and bare my teeth. i hope you're doing well, and i'm sorry. i'd like to give you a proper apology one day, when i'm more ready. that day is not today. sometimes i feel like there are four people living inside my brain, all with dissenting opinions and voices that i can't tell who i am anymore. i feel like i'm constantly contradicting myself because i don't know what my own thoughts are. i don't know who i am anymore. i don't know who i am anymore because i'm several different people all trying to be "kevin", all with different beliefs that go against a previous one. i prematurely deleted my twitter account for this reason, i couldn't stand a second more of being in a toxicity cycle i had previously taken part in, because sometimes that's all social media is. it's very... Online. i want to be one, unified person. whose thoughts and feelings are unadulterated by others surrounding him. additionally, there's the elephant in the room. some have already guessed it, suspected it, saw something like it coming from miles away. but for others who have known me for the past decade, it might be a surprise. someone once told me that words have power, and while at the time i disagreed, i'm starting to understand what she meant now. i've been afraid to speak it into existence, because it means it's real, and coming to terms with this unavoidable truth is a terrifying experience, one i need to face and stop running away from. 

i'm detransitioning. giving life to this phrase doesn't make me feel any better. words have power, and that power is to make me crumble and break. since as early as 4 years old, i felt as if i was born a boy who was just being raised as a girl. at 12 was when i learned about and started identifying as transgender. at 18 i legally changed my name. for a decade, i lived as a transgender man. i've mentioned this before, but i'm intersex. i have an androgen insensitivity syndrome. what this means is that androgens, male sex hormones, have no effect on me. they instantly are reconverted back into estrogen by my body. this has been a reoccurring nightmare of mine since i was 14, and having it become my reality is.. heartbreaking, to say the least, crushing a lifetime of dreams and wishes. i've tried testosterone, self-medicated in my teen years, and "officially" more recently. it has no effect on me. a friend of mine says i shouldn't give up hope until i properly see an endocrinologist about HRT, but the reality is– i know my body, and i know my condition. i don't grow body hair, and my body cannot masculinize. these are unavoidable truths. i don't need to spend hundreds of dollars to be told what i already know. HRT will not affect me; i will never be able to transition. any attempt will become a scientific study in which i'm a guinea pig. i don't want that. i will never pass for male. my voice is high, my body is undoubtably female, my face is feminine, and i'm 4'11". it's disheartening and i've shed many tears over it. for what feels like my whole life, i've longed for SRS/GRS, top surgery, a deeper voice, and a couple inches of height. i ache for body hair, masculine fat redistribution, and male pattern baldness. all the good and the bad associated with testosterone is what i so desperately yearn for with such a soul-crushing depravity. i am genuinely heartbroken. maybe it's my punishment for all the bad things i've believed in or done. it's what i'd deserve, i guess. this punishment. it is for those reasons that i feel like i can no longer find comfort in identifying as ftm, to struggle seeing myself as a man. it's crazy, i've referred to myself as male since early childhood, and now that i'm coming to terms with my intersex condition am i feeling wrong in every conceivably way of identity. truthfully, i don't even identify as anything anymore. i'm not nonbinary, cis, or i guess trans. i feel as if i just exist. i just am. you can still call me kevin. it's my name, my legal name– which i love to point out. i'm not changing it. it's the first time i made a decision purely for myself, and went through with it. i love my name. i don't think i will love anything about myself quite like my name. i chose it when i was 12, it was my first choice. i never wanted another name. i still don't. but i like nicknames, particularly kitty and K-K. you can call me those too. these have always been options available. i reiterate– i really like being called nicknames. (: you can still use male pronouns for me. i never minded being "misgendered" because, well, i never passed, and i made peace with that years and years ago. while being called she/her or otherwise will probably always leave a stale taste in my mouth, i've learned to accept the reality of what i am a long time ago. biologically female. you can still use male identifiers for me, like husband or boyfriend or whatever other male terms there are...... actually you'll have to pry those out of my cold dead hands. i will not accept being called a "girlfriend" i will literally go feral and foam at the mouth and bite your ankles until you take it back. there's comfort in these things that i'm not ready to let go of, and frankly, i don't think i'll ever feel ready to. moving forward, i don't really know what i'm going to do. right now i'm taking a break from the internet, so i can soul-search and truly find myself, in all senses of the word and every iteration that it can be built upon. i'll make a new twitter account when i'm ready to, probably. there's a lot more i want to say, to add onto this in addendum, and pour so much of myself into this until it spills out the sides and trickles down into tiny cracks. but truthfully, i don't know how to say it. i don't know its relevancy to this eulogy of an account, and quite honestly, there are still some things i can't find myself able to say. to speak into existence. to give power to those words. admitting aloud to a 6-year long love that burnt like candles catching a home on fire was intense enough (hi Charlotte it's you, it's you and it's always been you and everyone knows this). so maybe i'd rather keep some things to myself, perhaps. preferably. so i guess that's it. i've bared my heart and soul and skin and bones to whoever will read this piece of myself. it's the end to katidoj, one that's been a longtime coming. i've never been very good at staying in one place for very long. please take care, i love you. and i'll miss you. a piece of my heart left with you, here buried deep in this account. (pressing the submit button has never been so hard in my life.)

[staff]

tumblr tuesday: Adam is not just kidding

So one thing that happens when you’ve been here for a while is that you end up with this archive of how you got to where you are now—a long lens of nostalgia on all the people you’ve been, those you’ve loved, and all the things you’ve done. 

Adam JK (@adamjk​) was one of the first Artists on Tumblr—he’s literally been here for almost as long as we have! Since that first post, he’s journaled, made friends, found his queer community, met his future husband, and made some really great art that people really love. 

We asked Adam to share with us the moments that show him coming into his identity—as a person, an artist, a writer, a member of the LGBTQIA+ community. These are the posts he decided to talk about. 

~

This post really sums up how I used Tumblr for a long time. It was my diary and I didn’t think anybody was paying attention (because they weren’t). x

~

Usually in relationships, I was the one getting dumped, so when I had to break up with a guy, it felt so shitty, and I thought, “why isn’t there a thing for this?”The minimum order was 500 balloons, so I had 499 too many and posted about them. People started ordering them. I got some minor press coverage, I even got ripped off a few times! My art—really one of the first things I created that wasn’t for a client—was suddenly blowing up, and I put the profits (a few hundred dollars) back into this hobby of making novelty gift products nobody asked for.

~

Around age 21, I became internet friends with a network of “Tumblr Gays” that made me feel more comfortable being myself. I would take the bus from Baltimore to NYC on weekends to meet up and go out and pretend brunch was an entire personality. At some point, I met Walt Cessna, who was flooding Tumblr with photos around that time. I feel like this photo captured me between two worlds, nervous about being on my own but excited to be my full queer self in New York. 

~

In 2013 I started making these “everything will be so good so soon” post-it note collages, and they took on a life of their own. So many people have told me this was their phone background or helped them through a hard time, and I learned the power of making hopeful, honest art. This particular reminder finds its way back to me just when I need it most, and I’m really proud to have re-drawn it for the back cover of my new book.

~

My husband and I were mutuals but never exchanged messages or anything until one day I caved and asked him out. We both fell pretty hard for each other, and it was interesting how we kept posting on Tumblr while knowing the other could see it. We would buy each other donuts and flowers and write cute notes and the whole fucking thing. Before Mitchell, I never dated a guy longer than three months. Before me, he never thought about marriage. Love is real, and I’m so glad I didn’t listen to anyone who made me feel like I couldn’t find it for some reason.

~

Tumblr… I love you. Thank you for being you!!!!!!

~

As it happens, Adam actually recently finished making a little blue book about learning to be a person and then being that person. So if you want to know where he’s at today, here’s the trailer for that book. Happy Tuesday, Tumblr <3

[kanene-yaaay]

Reasons to Smile

Kanene's Notes: 

Reasons to smile:

Today wasn't a sunny day, and I wake up early, which was pretty cool so that way I had time to finally finish my fanfic and post it. Oh, I have internet, and this is also awesome, since I can show this fanfic and talk with you all because of it. And the fun thing about Sun is that is okay the fact that it wasn't showing up a lot today because you guys alone are enough to light up my day and warm my heart. So thank you for being here and being so strong in these tough times, my lollipop!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Roman!Patton and Ler!Patton/Ler!Virgil/Ler!Roman (It can be seen as Romantic or Platonic LAMP/CALM). 

*Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ���u’).

* Something around 4.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* I'm very happy I finally managed to finalize this fanfiction! I made an personal goal to make to each one of the Light Sides a tickle fic focused on them specifically (Virgil = Vulnerable; Logan = It started when... ; Patton = Patton has a secret) and that was the last one! I'm already starting another project which I hope to post soon, so donut worry! I will be opening my Ask Box for prompts, however I will make a post about it, soon! <3

* E a versão em português brasileiro! 

* Masterpost in case you wanna see my others works! <3

*Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Watch a fun video, read a good story, talk with the one that you love and drink water! Byeioo!~

                          [~*~]

Roman felt he was the least heroic hero from all the Mind Palace. It was horrible, like a sensation which seemed to start in his chest, in that deepest part of him where the soul is, and began to spread through all his body. First his throat, making it dry and with tons and tons of lost words never said, then it went to his stomach, leading it to weight as much as his legs, which didn’t felt have any strength left to stand or move in any direction; his eyes looked as dikes about to broke and flood everything in they way, and, in the end, he didn’t felt any cold, however this didn’t stopped him from drow himself in tons of comforters and teddy bears just like he currently was.

As he said before: Not even a drop of heroism.

 The soft, warm pile moved some time later as the prince emerged from it, not completely healed, but at least a little better after the nap he had. His hand moved with a flourish in the air, summoning Crofter’s, because he was addicted to this jelly after the musical video, and started to eat, feeling his face getting dirty with his own clumsy actions already inserted in his being.

 Jelly on his face, messy hair, tired, sleepy eyes… Yep, definitely these were the ‘royal days’ which any Fairy Tale ever utter. None chapter mentioning, explaining how were the thousands of days in the tower waiting, dreaming; not a page dedicated to the lonely afternoons wandering through the forest in seek of a beauty lady with skin pale as snow, or even some phrases about the months surrounded and arrested in himself that Maui had to struggle and neither three or four verses about all the sleepless nights watered in guilty that the Beast had gone through.

 Perhaps, it was because in the end…

 - Nobody cares that much. - The words sounded even tougher when left his lips and Roman felt himself squirm as if it had inflicted a physical blow. He shook his head, knowing very well the bottomless well he was burying himself into.

 He took a deep breath and opened the desk drawer picking up the old-looking folder, with a single draw of a feather outlined with glitter in its cape. He leaned on the bed’s headboard and opened the emergency folder for ‘heroic moments not so heroic of life’ as he liked to call it.

 There were all that intimate stories. The ones we do just for ourselves. The arts in which we are inserted in the world that we chose in the way we wish… Stories with a plot very much deeper that the one traced on papers and the chats and scenes which that had already been turned over, reinvented and transformed again and again and again in the mind of the creative aspect. Took a good sip of air and released slowly in the paper with doodles at the edges. The traces and dialogues started to float from them and dance in the wind, recreating, reorganizing and materializing themselves in the characters, places and contexts previously determined. His trace was light and clear, seeming to flow slightly and naturally with the wind as his room began to take a form of a magnificent forest.

 Roman observed the stories unfold before him, sporadically remembering the jokes he had written much longer ago and the trail each action leaded the character. He remembered also the ideas he had when wrote every single one of these words and how much happy he was just by the simple fact he was putting them on lines, without even realizing it Roman found himself with a small smile finding way to his features along with some salty drops pioneering trails down his cheeks and his hand centimeters away from the holograms, doomed to his destiny of always being capable to have any scenario, character and plot at his fingertips, but nothing more than that.

 His not so optimal thoughts were pulled out of him when laughter and teasing cut the place and almost automatically made a pleasant shivers ran across his body. Now a real smile took over his face without he even noticing it, his eyes attentive to every detail of the protagonist being pinned in the floor and attacked by his other two friends.

 Not a common attack, of course, because Roman could be anything but ‘common’. That, as the majority of the stories, which were in that folder, was a story developed around… tickling.

 So, nothing more fair than the principal character, being the hurried and naturally inattentive adventurer who he was (and because in the last day he had a problematic night) didn’t noticed that, when he went to land the ship he forgot to do the necessary procedures before it (he would need to question Logan about the functions from a ship’s painel control later) and because of that the automobile suffered severe damage by the time it hit the ground. Then, nothing more fair than, while the ship was being repaired, both of his best friends tickled him by the same amount of time (which, sure, was a lie, because they would stop immediately when noticed his ‘victim’ had researched his limit. However, the merely possibility of that happens and the teasing they directed towards him about this only made the entire situation more ticklish and playful.)

 (What? It was like said: the thing put on the paper is only the beginning of the whole iceberg behind the plot.)

 When a story was over, the words returned floating to the paper where they belonged, the scribbles being again fixed, and then Roman took another one and brought it to life, sometimes closing his eyes in order to concentrate even more on the laughter and try to visualize fingers dancing in his most ticklish spots.

 Just the thoughts about it leaded to ghost sensations ran across his entire spine. The papers fell with each story that ended and floated gracefully to the ground, because, later he would busy himself with the task of tidying up all that mess.

 Later.

 (~*~)  

He left his room, already having organized it and saved his little folder back to its original place (one story was missing, probably lost in some corner of his forest. He would care about this another day, though. He was tireeeeeed.). He was interrupted some quick times by Thomas seeking to discuss new goals and dreams they could perceive in the next moths and someday in the future, which made him to be late for the dinner and, consequently, his entire routine after meal, and it was for that reason which at ten at night the aspect of passion and creativity was washing his clothes for the next video, that may or may not would be in the morning. Something which made him almost pray to not rain in the next day so he wouldn’t need to take his vestments to dry in the forest in his room. 

 Since it was almost IMPOSSIBLE to find anything by own will and not literally tripping over them (Not that this ever happened before with his teddy bear which went there to take some sunlight after a particularly strong storm in the Mind Place. Pffff. Of course not. Prince doesn’t stumble, or have teddy bear neither!! Who told you that??)  in that indomitable world just as the creativity...

 Wait…

 Ah, that was why this world was his room and he is the aspect of creativity and… aaahh! Now the things made sense...

 My goshly gosh, now he was beginning to look for logic in the pieces of his routine. OK. Red alert. Abort Mission! Sad days made him WAY too philosophical and like Logan. Abort Mission!

 His foot leaded him to the living room, letting the washing machine do its job, his mind in a battle to decide which Disney to watch and which ones had duration just a bit longer than the washing process. His eyes landed in the television and his body froze for a piece of second.

 “Reasons to smile today”

 That's what the paper stuck to the device's screen said. It was a notebook’s common paper, the words scribbled a bit stronger than the necessary amount, however this wasn’t the cause of the guardian of dreams and passion stop in the way to his happiness.

 And yes what that phrase meant.

 It was a Logan’s idea (amaze!) which emerged in a particularly difficult period for Thomas.

 It was really simple, to be honest: every day all the sides got together, more specifically in the breakfast, and told at least one reason to smile and look forward that day. Usually it was Patton who listed more than half of the reasons in almost every meetings, them being memories, peoples or places, e that constantly managed to rip out a good smile and that warm, cozy feeling in their chest.

 But, when the moral aspect was feeling too much down for the activity, Roman always jumped with a good future, those where all their dreams were accomplished, Logan always brought some good memories and neutral facts and Virgil always came with someone. One supported the other and vice versa.

 Those were really tough moments, nevertheless also were the moments which consolidated them as a famILY.

 The royal member held de paper, the entire room bathed in a silence in which he could swear to amplificate his heartbeats. It was possible to notice there was something written in the back of it, so he turned it.

 “Your unwavering courage.”

 The lights went off and two hands digged in his sides, a scream getting stuck in his throat and his reflexes to punch what touched him was equally restrained by THAT specific sensation.

 - NAHAHAHAHAHA! – His laughter was quick to fill each piece of the silent before installed in the place, his own hands swinging from left to right without really managing to do something, completely different from the ones which attacked him, each single finger mixing between wriggling, kneading, trembling and giving an extra special attention to every inch it could research. He quivered, his legs weakening with the flow of laughter. - WHOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHOHOHO I-I-IS - A particularly mean poke in his lowest rib made his voice to fail, a new shade of blush painting his features. - ACK! - An amused snort could be heard from behind him, the tickling fingers found the new sound interesting and now spent their time slowly spidering up and down his ribs. Light, quick and crazy tickles dancing and spreading with each touch. - nahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

 He knew this game, knew how to play it. He just needed to find out who was attacking him. Whilst his squirming, his hands tried to hold or touch anything from who was behind him. A hint. Any hint.

 Roman grabbed a wrist. It was uncovered, but there was fabric right behind it. Just one of them wore clothes long-sleeved - His thoughts seemed to run and vanish as fast as the squeaks and yelps between his hearty laughter - Just one of them wore vestments long-sleeved…

 The unknown wrist released itself from his hold, quickly deviating its attention to his upper ribs. His legs weakened and he fell in the ground, the tickling following all his moves and don’t stopping to attack him with light kneads and pinches, even with all his fighting.

 - Anahahahahahahahah-anahahahahaha!!! - His eyes closed in attempt to focus for the name slip already, but his laughter seemed to control all his breath and mind. -ANXIEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHETY! NAHAhahahaha!!

 The fingers slowed down, almost stopping, which allowed the aspirant of royalty finally take some deep quick, delightful breathes, his low and wobbly giggles intertwined with fast squeals being fed up by two index fingers that still poking and lightly teasing that exact spot that connect his armpits and ribs.

 - Thahahahahank Beyohohohohcé.

 - Tsc. - The purple aspect clicked his tongue and even though everything was bathed into darkness, Roman could perfectly imagine the expression in the other’s face. A sharp look. A marvelous smirk. Uh oh - We work with names here, Squeaky Princey.

 F U C-

 - Nononohohoho! wAHAHAHAHAHAIT- He even attempted to escape, sure, but was already giggling even before the hands came back to his sides in full speed. His laughter exploded from his lips, his legs and arms also dancing and struggling without any real effort and his eyes closing tightly.

 This jerk had told his name a few days ago and KNEW that none of them has get used to call him by that yet. He  k n e w.

 - YOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOUR STUHUHUHUHUUHUHUHP-NO! WHAHAHAHAHAHA-WHAHAHAHAHAIT!! - Snort. More high-pinched uncontrollable laughter. Squeal. More laughter. Did one of them belong to the emo side or did he imagined it? - LEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHET ME T-T-THIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHINK!!!

 Roman could feel the name in the tip of his tongue, somewhere between his loud and attention demanding crackles. Yes, right there, between his bright, mesmerizing smile and that warmth in his chest that seemed to spread through all across his face. He felt like would melt at any moment. Since when his smile could get this big?

 - VIRHIHIHIHIHIHIHIGIL!!! IT IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIS VIRGIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIL!!!

 - Ding ding ding. – The lights went on again and the royal aspect deposited his hands on the floor, his remain giggles flowing from his mouth as those butterflies and that cozy sensation kept flying in his stomach. - Strike.

 - Yohohohou will feel my rahahahahag- However, when he turned, blushed features and teary eyes, to see the fear in his enemy's face as he uttered his promise of vengeance, the prince only found nothing. A gigantic piece of void where the purple one should be standing. The sheet preserved itself in the ground, calm and plain, in the same position he had left it, as it mocked about all the mess that happened seconds ago.

 - Who are you looking at, subject? - But the sparkles in his eyes removed any heat of his words.

He went to the laundry and now headed to his room. Being completely honest, he didn't felt a single drop of will to sleep right now, the previous ‘attack’ continued as a mystery. Of course, they all were extremely close, but... tickles? It have been a long time since this artifice was used among them. It was something almost as old as that phrase or that game…

 Ok. Something was smelling really strange here.

 Maybe it was his new cologne which- No, wait, Roman! Focus, focus!

 Maybe it was…

 An adventure.

 And what kind of royalty he would be if he denied an adventure?

 Unsheathed his sword and kept his track to his room, confident and brave footsteps echoing in the hallway.

 A quick and muffled ‘thump’ could be heard from his room, which automatically activated all the instincts from the extra side, because of that, in a matter of few seconds the wooden object was already being thrown in the ground by a smiley Roman, who managed to support himself in the only feet that didn’t hurted, since apparently, knocking -ha!- a door down with one (or more, shhh) kick can have consequences (How he was supposed to know?).

 - BOW TO YOUR PRINCE AND MAY I DECIDE TO SPARE YOU! - His heroic pose was totally ignored, because the place was empty. His eyes analyzed each corner and each shadow, without really finding anything that give the slightest tip that any other life being beyond him even stepped there. 

 And then his gaze bumped in a shiny, polished black shoe, half completely hidden under his bed, making a danger joyful grin to spread in his features. All his shoes were Disney tematic and had their own day and outfit and any of them had this shade of black.

 (Maybe the Ursula’s one was the one that looked more like, but even with this in mind it was very distinguishable the difference between a dark-purple and a basic dark, please!)

 His footsteps leaded him quietly, a perfect contrast with all the shouting from pieces of time ago. He slowly bent down, prepared to grab the shoe and whoever was wearing it and…

 - HA! YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD TRICK M- Good point: The shoe came easily out. Bad point: it was because it was empty, which was the reason for his glorious victory statement being, and and very rudely by the way, interrupted. Roman indignantly scoffed; he refused to let the victory escape so easily through his fingers! He was the embodiment of dreams, persistence and hope and he. wouldn’t. give. up. so. easily!!

 Inflated by his own enthusiasm, the royal side knelt down, noticing only a paper on the floor in a place a little further under his bed. Just a little crawl was necessary to solve the problem, with a gleam of determination in his glare Roman firmly held the hint, excitedly bouncing his legs, the only part of his body that wasn’t covered by the furniture.

 "Your persistence and mind of an untamed nature."

 Before he could even process a bit more the meaning contained in the words, which apparently were a continuation from previous paper, the prince felt a strong arm embrace his ankles, his shoes being removed with a slowly calm that didn’t related with the adrenaline which exploded in himself and now across his arteries. His ‘mind of an untamed nature’ understanding exactly what was about to happen and finding zero ways to run away from his fate.

 - NO!!! Don’t you dare!! - One of his shoes fell with a muffled hit on the ground. - I-I… hehehe…! - Giggles began to took over his throat. His other shoe fell as well, a cold, excited shiver ran down his spine. - No!! - A finger lightly positioned itself in the exact center of his feet, all his nerves vibrated in expectation. - NononononNo!

 The finger started to scratched softly, its nail slided without a single bit of hurry across his feet in a move that went from the tip of his toes to his heel, just to add another finger in the movement and calmly repeat the pattern over and over and over and over… Until all his five stupid tickly fingers were tickling him.

 Roman tried to escape from the gap in his ankle, his eyes as tighten as his lips, refusing to brake his barrier.

 The one who ‘attacked’ changed his technique a few times, going from circular motions to quick scribbles, however, he hasn’t rewarded with more than some muffled squeaks and snorts from the other. The fingers moved away, giving Prince time enough to recover profusely his breath, almost don’t hearing the soft humming which filled the air for some little pieces of heartbeats.

 Roman already had the name in the tip of his tongue. The letter alone was enough of a clue, albeit… the possibility to finish with the playing caused a part of himself to quiver sadly. He didn’t wished to end with this moment… No… In truth…

 He didn’t wanted this feeling to end. A feeling that made him excited, electric, feeling like he could run fifty kilometers nonstop. This sentiment, which automatically produced a smile in his features and made he really believes, realizes that he was…

 Was loved.

 Perhaps it was this the reason that his mouth opened even before his brain processed his provocation, challenger tune that impregnated his next words:

 - Há! My dear enemy! Your faux fighting techniques would never be able to defeat a prince like mí! - The creativity side could feel the anticipation, the danger sign glowing in a bright red, and launched his final card: his cocky laughter (and extremely natural. Of course, he never trained hours and hour in a diversity of tunes and expressions in front of his mirror. Humpft. Of course not. That was one of princes’ natural gifts.) of victory.

 The same that was interrupted seconds after by the twenty nails that scratched the absurdly, extremely ticklish skin under his toes. Roman could swear that not even in his years of theater he managed to achieve this high tune.

 - Ohohohohoh! NohohohohohOHOHOHOhohohoho! – His head shook desperately, his legs bouncing and fight for their lives and freedom, his laughter, now breathless and full of half pleas of mercy, dancing through his room.

 A part of himself, one which wasn’t maddened with all this tickling, all the fingers that attacked merciless every little centimeter of his feet and his reverberated laughter, fought against his flight instincts, leading the whole scribbles, pokes and wriggles to find the minimum of resistance as possible (Not that the Tickler will ever know it, sure.)

 - PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE - A nail found a very particularly sensible spot right under his big toe releasing a series of snorts and yelps throughout his already uncontrollable, wobbly laughter. The tickling was unbearable, but in a very different, more lightly, way than the previous attack, and that was making him crazy. - PleasepleasepleAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSEHEHEHE!! NAHAHAHAhahahahHAHAHAHahahahahaHAHAHAHA!!

 Roman persisted for a few more seconds, his entire body, despite the tickles being focused in just one place, squirmed. He only allowed the name to slip for his tongue when his laughter and giggles, it depended from the spot and apparently his ‘enemy’ wasn’t satisfied in choose just one, started to steal his breath. His hand hit the cold floor of his room.

 - LOGAN!!! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT IS Lohohohhohohohogan!!

 The tickles were decreasing until finally stop, making the tingles in his soles not as intense as the that took over his ribs and sides before in the living room. Roman, in the exact moment, which felt the gap in his ankle to weaken, pulled his feet closer, rubbing them.

 - Undoubtedly correct. - It could be his tickled mind pranking him, but the dreamer could swear he heard a hint of amusement in the other’s voice. It didn’t took longer for the prince to catch the characteristic sound of sinking, which resulted him quickly attempting to get out of under the bed to reach the one with glasses, after all, their battle hadn’t  ended yet!!

 - Wait right there! Don’t you freaking dare to- And, once again, his sentence was interrupted. Now for a little snort that flied from his lips when the logic aspect ran softly his fingers at his feet, making the prince to retract in defense, giving him time enough to disappear with a smirk, half joyful and half cocky, adorning his face.

 Roman really tried to be angry, but how much heated was his features and how much euphoric he was in the moment proved this action to be a little more difficult, which definitely wouldn’t aplacate his future revenge, of course.

 Now, though, his only plan was to take a shower and then sleep. For that he forced his tired body to get up and head his bathroom, part smiling and part yawning. He opened his door and stretched, feeling his bones to crack and muscles to relax.

 And then his gaze found the paper stuck in the mirror above his sink, his instinct screaming in a red alert for knowing very well the next step in this game.

 - NO! - Maybe it was the tiredness, however, before he could turn around to try to stop the attack a pair of hands hit in his armpits, something that made his legs automatically to fail and every and any coherent thought be tossed away from his brain to a far far away. The laughter already falling in great waterfalls from his mouth.

 - PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHADREHEHE! - His real laughter, that specific one that only appears when his most ticklish spot is being attacked with the most ruthless tickles, was loud, thunderous  and definitely an easy sound to be noticed from miles away, Roman almost could feel his blush to spread across his neck just imagining Logan and Virgil smiling as heard him reverberate around the house.  – NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

 - Ooooooh? - Patton’s playfully tune would be definitely impossible to hear if he wasn’t so close of his ears, his words leading to even more tickles and shivers in the other. - It seems that our little pretty prince here is ticklish? Coothie coothie coo! Oh, no! What are you gonna do? Huh? Huh? What our powerful, brave Prince Roman will do to escape from the Tickle Monster? Huh? Huh? Kitty Kitty Coo! My dear and ticklish prince!!

 - NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO TEASIHIHIHIHIHIHIIHIHING, PAHAHAHAHAHATTON!

 The creativity’s embodiment trashed back and forth, his head shaking, perhaps in attempts to remove all the red in his face, maybe trying to dislodge those fingers that poked, kneaded, drummed and tickled every available skin they could research. Tears began to accumulate in the corner of his eyes,

 And, even with all his effort, his conscient parte still struggled against his instincts to escape and making him to get as close to the moral aspect as possible, almost laying on him.

 - But how could I ever stop when knowing that this give me access to all these cute squeals? - A poke in the right place and Roman exemplified his words. Patton giggled. - Not mentioning this wonderful and melodious laugher, Roman! It is adorable!!! - The paternal side seemed as happy as he did, the royalty aspirant could feel their laughter in harmony, and maybe (maybe, only!) his heart had melted a little. Or it was just his tears falling from his eyes, his mind was a mess, okay? Don’t ask for details nor logic.

 His laughter, high pinch squeals, snorts and breathless giggles endured for some more minutes before Roman pushed himself forward, laughing a plea to stop, which the one who wears cardigan promptly answered. They leaned against the wall, feeling the cold of the concrete aplacate the heat of the remaining giggles.

 For some seconds both stayed in silence, calming down.

 - Whahahat did you write?

 - Huh? - Patton blinked a few times, leaving his thoughts and staring the other with a stunning smile.

 - In the paper. I couldn’t read… And I expected a honest attack from you, padre! Attacking enemies from behind is very immoral!

 - Hehehehe! - Genuine smile, hands up as an act of surrender. - Anything goes in love and war.

 - Really bold words for someone so close from my fingers! - Roman showed an evil grin, punctuating each one of his words with pokes in the other’s belly, making him squirming in a sea of quick giggles, pushing his hands.

 - You stop right there, mister! - Protested, his glare assuming a paternal glint. - Tomorrow we have a video to record and we need to sleep early! Thomas will need his creativity radiant and rested!

 The prince whined, hands moving in exaggerated gestures and laying dramatically on the floor, following with his eyes as a smiling Patton stood up and pulled the paper from the mirror.

 - Ah! I wrote: ‘Your golden heart!’, but I think I should have written about your stories! - Roman felt his blood freeze, a quick flashback from the morning passing before his eyes. The holograms, flying scenarios, sheets falling, Thomas calling him to do something, the lost paper… - They’re amazing and give really ncredible ideas.

 His face suddenly looked as if it had been set on fire and for the first time in a long time the prince found himself speechless while the one with the glasses deposited the paper in his hands, kissed his forehead, wishing ‘Good night~’ before getting out, humming softly and disappeared from the other’s vision.

 Roman buried his face in his hands, grunting in frustration, which wasn’t too much easy to do when a smile from ear to ear looked to be stuck in his features.

 Yes, they had gave him a plenty of reasons to smile.

 Maybe it was for that reason that most of the stories didn’t told about these days, these moments… Perhaps because they were from such great and strong heroism that it was almost impossible to be entirely put in just one plot.

 And it was for that reason that Roman, while sitting on his bed, pencil and paper in hands, wanted to be the first one to do so.