#but i realise that makes it less rebloggable

[mademoisellesarcasme]

meme for the Vorkosigan Saga.

[justjstuff]

Hi! I just wanted to give you the heads up the kakashi art you reblogged where he is reading in bed is from a blog that uses AI for their art, I just looked through because I liked the art style and everything is tagged with AI art

Oh, man 😭 tysm for letting me know, I deleted the reblog. Honestly, this shit is so disheartening. It created such a hostile environment online tbh, everyone is always on high alert bc obviously we don’t want to promote this shit in any way and we have to stand in resistance but at the same time…jfc, you know?

I noticed that my response to the rise of AI images online, especially in fandom spaces, oscillates in two ways: I started reblogging stuff without much thought because it’s what I did for the past ten fucking years, I want to help promote artists, I want to be a reblogger instead of just a liker because I know the difference it makes but then I realised I was letting a lot of AI/stollen stuff pass, then I stopped reblogging anything until I could fast check if it was actually an artist but then jesus, it’s so fucking tiring to be engaging online like that, always suspecting every single person, having to go into each individual blog before I reblog something and like doubt every single person I see online posting something I just stopped going online and liking and reblogging altogether. I hate what it has become with a passion.

It’s gotten to the point where I look at some really good and detailed art and my first thought is “it’s probably AI” like people haven’t been churning out beautiful masterpieces before it. Or I see some other art that looks a bit weird in the proportions and go “it’s definitely AI, look at the hands” and it’s like no!!! It’s not AI! It was just a human being not making perfect art!!! And years back I would have reblogged it immediately because I’m a firm believer art isn’t about it being perfect and we should treasure beginners as much as the super experienced artists but now I’m sitting here and analysing the way they used lighting and the proper shapes and flow and just… I’m genuinely so tired.

And the worst part is that if you sit with an AI image for a while you can definitely tell it apart but there’s some styles that can 100% be mistaken for a specific type of art and unless you dive deeper you wouldn’t be able to tell it apart, especially since it’s been months of this bullshit and the programs are getting better. And most people don’t ever come online to sit with a piece, we all just see something cool, like, reblog, maybe leave a comment as quick as we can before moving on. The solution I think is to never engage online unless I can know I’ll be 100% invested in every single piece I see enough to make sure it’s not AI before I reblog. But ;-; I never come online to be even more alert, I’m used to coming here to mindlessly interact as I’m sure a lot of people do and yeah that doesn’t seem sustainable anymore and now it just makes me want to not interact in online social spaces anymore. But I know for a fact that when I do that and I’m “properly resisting” AI generated images, I’m definitely contributing to this rise of less interaction with artists, I’m also a part of the problem for them having less engagement overall.

This isn’t something new, it’s just something that I’ve been thinking a lot about lately and you gave me the chance to try and put it to words. I’m not even sure if I said all I wanted to say or if I’m coming across as I intended but I’m just genuinely sad that this is all happening to us and feeling particularly hopeless about our future as artists and human beings.

Sorry this is all over the place, please keep letting me know if you see me reblog something you found out to be AI, I’m trying and I’m so tired of this shit.

[bonetrousle]

ok officially asking you what's up with the published drarry fanfic with the numbers filed off

Okay sorry it took me a while to get to this I had to. sleep etc. I'm making this post non-rebloggable bc im 99% sure the author has a tumblr and I don't necessarily want them to see me slagging their book off LMAO. under the cut bc its pretty long

Ok so my partner tumblr user tackythor went to the bookstore. To get some books. As one does. And someone working there was giving her recs including this book. She gave kind of an inaccurate description of it too by the sounds of things? So anyway she brings some books home including this one and I'm reading the blurb which is like "two boys who hate each other fall in love at a magic school in new zealand!!" im like ok. sounds bad but i wont say anything bc i dont want to be a dick. I read the first page and am like ok yeah this is NOT for me.

So tumblr user tackythor reads some of this book and im like ok how's it going?? She's trying to figure out how to explain it and goes ok so it's like the characters are basically Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. That's when the PENNY DROPS and she's like oh my god that's. that's LITERALLY what it is. So me being nosy I rifle through the book and find thank you's/acknowledgements to people on tumblr and ao3. It's all starting to make SENSE. Anyway a real quick google of the books title will rapidly find you the title of the og fanfiction AND a pdf of the (now deleted) fanfiction which I obviously immediately downloaded and read so I could compare the two.

ANYWAY, the book isn't great, because none of the characters really have a personality. This is because you are expected to already know who they are. Because they are harry potter characters with established personalities and backstories. None of these made it in to the book however. Ron and Hermione have been genderswapped to make it less obvious that they're Ron and Hermione. The Harry character is a real cranky dick a lot of the time, which makes sense if you realise he's Harry and has gone through a lot of trauma, but makes less sense for someone who's Literally Just Some Guy at a School. There are also no descriptions of the school beyond "there are no windows and it's grey and depressing". There are also no visual descriptions of any of the characters save Harry and Draco. There's also a lot of weird... sexism? and other isms? in the og fanfiction, most of which has been thankfully edited out, but occasionally some weird stuff filters it's way through (can't think of any examples off the top of my head rn, a lot of kinda strangely rigid gender stuff for the most part.) the general premise is they have to raise fake egg babies for a class assignment which is how Harry and Draco get together because they partner up to get back at their exes and I guess.. pretend flirt in the process? In the book it's not really clear why they don't like each other. They just sort of.... don't. Draco isn't a wizard racist but just a rich guy from a big city who pulled a couple of pranks on Harry or something. Again, not quite on the same level of trying to murder the headmaster etc etc but WHATEVS.

This book won an award which is how it got published. I think the fact that it's a queer novel set in nz with a POC as the main character and an indigenous magic system means that people sort of focused in on that, and thought it was a unique premise for a book and glossed over the fact that it is not super well written and the plot is very, very thin, because it is of course mostly a vehicle for drarry sex. (which has been edited out but the book is still fairly adult for a YA novel). Clearly the people running the award had no clue??? There are some nuggets of interesting stuff in there such as the system of magic but again, these are a bit of loose world building that aren't fully fleshed out. I could GO ON but I'd need to do another rifle through the book/have another discussion with tumblr user tackythor to refresh my memory about some of the finer details of the book lmfao. Anyway everyone's giving it really good ratings and reviews and it JUST DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE TO ME but I don't really read YA so who the fuck knows. Maybe it's good in the YA world. I find that difficult to believe though. The editing really improved the book though. Like by a LOT. But where it struggles is in the lack of fleshed out ANYTHING.

I've avoided mentioning the title so far bc i dont want this coming up in the search results for the book LOL so I’ll mention it in another post. yes im paranoid what about it

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

100 followers!

You people, make me want to dance around like a complete idiot 🥰

I just sat through 3 online Lectures and an online Seminar, because obviously my University can not open thanks to Covid19. My eyes are tired, I am thirsty, I’m hungry and I’m trying to keep myself awake. But I’m like let’s check on tumblr, because why not. I love hanging out here as a relaxation. 

I’m opening my feed, to see all the new followers, making me smirk like I’m out of my mind, when I come across a realisation. I have got 100+ followers. That’s impossible. So I am going onto my tumblr app to double check. It shows the same. I am dumbfounded. 🙈

You people, I have been here for less than 2 months, I thought by this time, I’d have like 10 followers max. I certainly didn’t expect more. I am beyond happy right now and I just want to tell you how much I appreciate you all. 😍

I love all my binge-readers, who come and spam my notifications. I love all the rebloggers who feel my stories deserve to be on their blog. I love all my new followers for deciding to click that little button, which means more than you can imagine. I love all the sweet messages you send to my inbox or leave in the comments, they melt my cold little heart. 😈 I love all the sweet requests you entrust me with. But most of all, I love that you didn’t just come and go, but stayed with me. I adore you all! ❤️

I hope you will all stay with me and we can support each other. Don’t forget, my inbox is open for anyone. Whether you just want to share a secret, or you feel like ranting a bit, because life can be hard sometimes. I am here for you all, just the way you have been supporting me. 

Love you guys. 😘

[hoopyfrood]

the futurama ep bend her is obviously transphobic with the incorrect idea of sex = gender and body = gender but like. it’s also laughable

ur telling me in this distant future where various species live throughout the universe, where there’s several mentions to many genders, genderless species and an alien who uses shkle/shkler pronouns that robots (more than humans!) adhere to an outdated western gender binary

like they’re metal beings, and people are out here assigning one of two genders to metal. the idea that there’s inherent genders for certain types of oil and metal is one of the most absurd things to come up with

it’s just so ridiculous that in the 30th century where everything is different, the creators still kept to the western ideas of a sex binary and binary genders. for robots from the future

[snapessecretdiary]

To that I vow - Part II

here’s part two! Thanks already for all the likes, rebloggs and even the comment that part one received!

word count: 1674

Despite what you thought, waking up in this new city, actually was quite pleasant. Due to arriving late, you hadn't had to face Cersei yet, which now would change, as it was required of you to break fast with her.

As if sensing you being awake, a maid rushed into your room, shyly helping you bath and then tending to your long, golden hair. As you sat there, having your hair combed and styled, you realised- by looking at her through the mirror- that she indeed wouldn't look you in the eye. Was she afraid?

��What is your name?“ you asked, your voice soft and polite as you addressed her. As if shooked that you'd actually ask her a question, her intense grey eyes grew wide. „Leana, my lady.“ the slight tremble in her voice made it obvious how nervous she was.

Smiling, you replied: „It is nice meeting you, Leana. There is no need to call me 'my Lady', [Y/N] will do.“

Nooding vigorously, Leana continued working on your hair, pulling it into position until she was statisfied with the product. Inspecting it in the mirror, you were beyond happy. What this young girl did with your hair was pure magic.

„It looks beautiful. Thank you!“ This seemed to at least ease her nervousness a little, as she nooded with a big smile on her face, curtsied and actually looked you in the eye. „I am glad you like it.“ even the tremble of her voice grew fainter.

Soon, she helped dressing you in a dress made of light blue silk. You loved dressing in colour that wasn't only the typical Lannister red. In all honesty, you never really liked red, you loved yellow much more. Maybe you would have been better ending up as a Baratheon. A stag instead of a lion.

Time seemed to fly and soon enough, you were escorted to where you supposed both your sister and brother were. By light of day, the high walls of the castle seemed even more impressing. It was truly a place for a king. You wondered what it looked like during the regency of the Targaryens, with dragons all around.

The door was opened before you could even register it. And there she was. Cersei Lannister. Queen Regent. Mother of the King. A woman, strong and confident and beautiful as ever. Your own sister, and the look she gave you was one of disgust.

Walking further into the room, it was clear to you that she wanted you out and far away from her beloved children.

Keeping your calm as much as possible, you walked over to where Tyrion sat, taking the free seat next to him and greeting him politely. Then your eyes wandered to your sister.

Her face seemed as young as it was the last time you had seen it. Her eyes as bright as usual and her hair shining so bright, even the sun would be jealous. There was no point denying that you wished to be as beautiful as her, but you would never tell her so.

„Cersei.“ you greeted, trying to force a smile, but failing. It was as much as you could do, she was your sister after all.

Her full lips set in a tin line, she just starred at you.

„Sister.“ It probably was the first time she acknowledged to be related to you. Perhabs she had grown out of despising you.

The rest of the meal went by surprisingly well. You didn't interact with Cersei for another second, but instead spend your time enjoying the food that was offered, as well as finally seeing Tommen and Myrcella again. The last time you had seen them, Myrcella was a babe still. She had clearly a lot of the Lannister looks in her, and was as beautiful as her mother.

Once the lot of you had finished, both Tyrion and you walked out of the large room together, talking quietly.

„See? I told you she wouldn't harm you. Cersei may has been aweful once, but I guess motherhood did her well.“ Tyrion said, tugging at his sleeve.

„I only hope you are right.“ you sighed, looking out of the windows you passed.

„I will have to attent a meeting of the small council. Maybe we could have a walk in the garden later on?“ your brother proposed, stopping in his motion to look at you.

Smiling, you moved his pin in the right position. „I would love that.“ you said, and waited till he turned a corner and was out of your sight.

Just as you wanted to continue on your way, a voice appeared out of no-where: „Has everything been to your liking, so far?“

Startled, you turned around, your eyes searching for the source of the unknown voice. Soon enough, you realised it belonged to Lord Baelish.

„It has indeed, my Lord.“ you answered sincerly. Your counterpart smiled smugly as he clasped his hands behind his back.

„May I escort you to your chambers?“

„Actually, my destination were the gardens.“ you said, wondering about his intentions.

„Than I shall escort you there.“

Not really knowing what to reply, you followed as Baelish turned and went in the directions you thought were the gardens.

„I heard the Queen wasn't fond of you,“ the slender man mentioned after a while of silence.

Turning your head slightly, you realised that he was already looking at you. „I am afraid whoever told you so is right.“

„I wonder why though. Have you killed someone, stolen a lover perhabs?“ it was obvious he was joking, but you couldn't deny that what he sad hit a sore point.

As soon as he realised your lack of answer, he furrowed his eyebrows, looking at you in mild surprise.

„What of it?“ he wanted to know, now utterly engaged in the situation.

Doing as he did, you stopped walking, your eyes glued to the ground. „None of it.“ Liar, an inner voice said, if it weren't for you, mother would still be here.

Somehow, Baelish seemed to sense your inner monolouge. „A lover?“ he guessed.

If only it would be that, life would have been easier. Directing your eyes back on his, you shook your head, gulping nervously. This whole conversation was far too personal for you. So to protect yourself you asked: „Aren't you supposed to be attending a counsil?“

The smile that you already were sure was his trademark sign, crept back on his face. „You are right, my dear Lady, I am. Yet I guessed myself not to be of utterly significance for this council.“

Rather soon, you escaped this man that had been made Master of Coin back in King Robert's days. The more time you spend wondering whether or not Baelish was trustworthy, the less you really wanted to actually trust him. There was something constantly surrounding him, that was both fascinating and frightening at the same time. Before you could decide if you appreciated his constant presence, you heard a husky voice clear his throat right in front of you.

„You seem distraught.“ Bronn said, smirking at you. This man surely was confident enough to wear his ego on his sleeve.

„I am.“ you agreed, continuing to walk, with your brothers friend following you. „And you seem as if you had nothing better to do, than to follow me wherever I go.“

Falling in step with you, Bronn feigned a hurt expression, placing his hand on the place his heart was. „Oh I do have a lot of important stuff to do, ya know? Just thought keeping an eye on the princess was more important.“

Scoffing slightly, you rolled your yellow-ish eyes. „You know I am not a princess.“

„No, you're not. But with the right help you could be a queen. You could be the Queen.“

Hearing his words, you stopped, turning just as much so you could have a good look at him. Due to standing rather close to him, you had to look up to properly see his face. Broon smirked as usual, with his brown eyes twinkling with something you thought was mischief.

„What do you mean by that?“ you whispered, afraid for somebody to hear. Rumors were, that there were spiders listening wherever one would went. There was no thing such as secret in King's Landing.

Shrugging slightly, the man opposite you said: „Well, with the right help I am sure you'd make a dashing Queen. If one would get rid of Cersei first.“

How could he even think of such a thing? This was beyond vile.

„I will not harm my sister.“

„Heard she doesn't really say the same about you.“

Completely abashed, you just stared at him. Maybe this was one of his jokes. He used to make a lot of them.

„Better not say that too loud, otherwise people could suspect you to plan murder.“ you whispered, truthfully afraid that there were ears to listen to it. This surely could get both of you in serious trouble.

„Wouldn't dare.“ he replied.

Still standing rather close, you only realised your current position when your brothers voice appeared in the distance.

„Bronn, away from my sister.“ Tyrion joked, even though there was a hint of seriousness in his tone.

Within a mere second, both of you looked to the direction the youngest Lannister son was coming from. Watching your brother walk in your direction, Bronn grinned mischievously before he put his hands around your waist, pulling you flat to his chest.

Not really knowing how to react, you continued looking at Tyrion, who seemed both amused and angry.

„Bronn.“ he repeated threatening, his voice louder now that he stood about three feet away from the both of you. „Mind you let go of my sister?“

Chuckling loudly, Bronn indeed let go of you, only to raise his hands in a innocent manner.

It was this playfull banter, that actually made everything easier for you. And maybe it was that, what made Cersei finally find your weakness. Your freedom.

[dentelle-grise]

Your Latest Trick - Chapter 26

Long after everyone has stopped talking about Loki and his misdemeanors, his failed attempt to take over Midgard and his punishment, you meet him at a party.(Loki x Reader NSFW) -

First chapter here (can be read as a oneshot) All chapters to date at AO3 (66K, NC-17)

Tagging my rebloggers, commenters and other folk who asked. Please let me know if you want in (or out) of the list: @joanbushur, @frenchfrostpudding, @lovely-geek, @wolfsmom1, @sigridlaufeyson, @lokislonelylady, @monitoroutside, @daniissuchadani, @devilbat, @deadlydreamersecrets @helenisabel, @stardustandangelsfanfiction, @ely-seum, @wendyrobson1978, @the-ships-i-ship, @shemart101, @dreamourbrainout, @sadghostomg, @lokilover2000, @blobfishington, @lynneth1968-blog, @deaddecade, @nardo94, @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981, @ashesandfire, @imagines-of-the-fandom​, @beingrandomisfun​, @tomsragnarok, @skulliebythesea, @bubbles8231999, @jesuisunthot

Chapter 26

The silence in the great hall makes a stark contrast from the bustle and merriment outside. The room does not have the same cold as on your last visit though,  at least there’s that. You look around for the mysterious casket, but there’s no sign of it. This is a different place now, a place of day. It’s still empty though. There’s really only you and Thor. For good or for ill… You follow his red-cloaked back down the long aisle toward the throne, half expecting him to seat himself there, finally. He doesn’t. Instead, he rounds on you, examining you with a look approaching distain. This is not the Thor of old - the friend you could jest with.

If you didn’t feel so confused at events and at his behaviour, you’d wish Thor the congratulations that the whole city is preparing for him and Jane.  But here he is alone, severe and terribly imposing. A single ray of light from a still untended gash high in a wall hits his pale hair just so, making him look every inch a deity.  Surely the news about Loki would have made him happy. If he’s had the news…

He doesn’t look happy. His expression is like a thundercloud. Rumoured wedding or no, something has displeased the god of Thunder and you strongly fear that it’s you. You’d forgotten how he could be. While Loki’s presence relies on his poise, force of personality and the intense mental energy he radiates, Thor is a physical entity.  His sheer size, regal allure and ceremonial dress make him all the more impressive.  You search in vain for the young man who was part of the gang way back when, or for traces of vulnerability he showed at Loki’s death. But no. You’ve no trouble, however, seeing in him a monarch with the same fear-inspiring demeanour as his father.

“It must end between you and Odin.”

So  that’s it. Thor believes the rumours too.

If you hadn’t just had the conversation with your mother then you would have no idea what he meant.  But now… You want to scream at the sheer ridiculousness of the idea. He’s made the same mistake as you mother but added an altogether different judgement.

So you’ll have to put him right, then get the hell out of here and find Loki.

“I’m not seeing your father. It’s nothing but a vicious rumour.”  And you let out an exasperated sigh. There’s something else that riles you too though you’ve sense enough to hold it back. What business is it of Thor’s to run his father’s life?

“My father  is…not himself at present from what I have heard,” With that Thor looks at you hard a second, or like he wants to stare imposingly but then his gaze skitters off, embarrassed or incredulous. At last some humanity.  But, intended or not, his words hit like an insult - no man in his right mind would court you.

Your anger boils up again, but you maintain your countenance. And say, flatly and slowly, but still trying to sound respectful.

“The King and I are not in a relationship.”

Then you remember the flowers again and banish the image furiously.

You wish with half of your heart that Odin would appear to confirm this.  With the other half you dread him arriving and the embarrassment of explaining it in front of him.

Has Thor even asked his father himself?  Somehow you doubt it. While Thor would counter his father in affairs of state, you can’t imagine them arguing on matters of the heart. No, Thor must just have heard the rumor and coupled with the fact that his father, still finding his feet after losing Frigga, is indeed behaving strangely, decided it was true.  

“Would that you speak the truth. It would be far simpler.” Thor shakes himself and there again is a shadow of his younger self; as though the sight of you conflicts with whatever he’s going to say. It’s this glimpse you hang onto. “Though I hate to question your word, the eyes of Heimdall always see true.”

Heimdall! Whose eyes do see true.  Who would surely not report such an untruth. And you feel a pang… Heimdall who found you once as a lost and wandering child, would not betray or lie.

Unless…

Unless he was tricked.  And at that idea all the warmth that there is gets sucked out of the room.

Because trickery is Loki’s signature.

You don’t know who to be more angry with. Thor for his accusations. Heimdall who you’ve always trusted.  Or Loki for playing a trick at your expense.

“It’s not true.” is all you can say. Your word against Heimdall’s is nothing.   You don’t want to appear as angry as you feel. It would be an insult to the King that you appear in any way repelled by the idea.  As mother so clearly implied, any woman of Asgard should be honoured by Odin’s suit.

“But that it were not. But I know my father is weakened, such that someone, in the pursuit of wealth and power…”

“What?” You’re shaking your head. “Have you asked him?” you keep your voice steady though you want to spit the words at him. Thor looks somewhat abashed.

“He sleeps still.” Then, before you can point out how this undermines his claim Thor adds. “You should not be putting my father under such stress.”

You flush hot, livid at his implication and burst out in anger

“What! I’m not. How dare you.” Then, more controlled but no less vicious,  “What do you mean?” You’re seething and Thor, rightly, lowers his eyes.

“Only that he’s trying to be a young man again.” he tries to backtrack, pitifully.

“He has protected the realm and prepared us to defend if we come again under attack”.  You picture Odin holding the sword that day at the training fields…the ambitious experiments…What Thor says is not altogether untrue. Even though it’s not what he meant.

“Exactly as I thought, this is why he sought a young woman–”

“That’s not the point.” You raise your voice.

“You will swear to leave my father in peace.”

“I haven’t touched your father.” You yell in exasperation, shaking slightly. “He strives to ready us should Malekith come again.”

Even in the midst of your fury, you realise your mistake, but it’s too late. Brought on by your anger and Thor’s  bullheadedness you said just said the wrong thing.  You couldn’t have known about Malekith, not unless someone had confided in you.  Someone like Odin.

There is no way Thor will believe you now.

But he merely looks confused.

“Malekith?! But of what nonsense do you speak.”

And the his face lightens and he actually smiles. Radiantly. You don’t understand.  What is there to smile about in that? Then you see he is not looking at you but over your shoulder.

“My lady Jane’s valiant band put paid to the tyrant.” He says, as loud as though he were addressing a crowd.

You look and there she is, the tiny Midgardian, a fully formed woman barely older than a babe in arms, dressed in Asgardians finery cut to her smaller foreign frame. The dress is broad skirted with a low bodice hugging her torso. Around her shoulders she wears a white gauze stole like a cloud. Thor has clearly not seen her dressed like this before because he cannot look away from her and you suddenly might as well have evaporated.  You notice the hand of your own seamstress on the garment, but such a detail is meaningless to you in the light of the danger and of Thor’s obliviousness. If only Asgard was once more become a place of peace where you worry about how many rows of pearls would look best.

Thor doesn’t know about Malekith.  How does Thor not know of Malekith, of the danger? While you panic silently,  the couple gaze at one another and Jane slowly approaches, a wide grin on her face, holding her skirts as though unaccustomed to how they move with her steps.

“I’m sorry, my lady Jane’s valiant research group.” Thor corrects himself with a chuckle. This is clearly a private joke between them. Your thoughts are in a whirl, but you sense that in the last instants, your importance for Thor has shrunk to indifference.

You foolishly revealed something you meant to hide, only to not have it taken seriously. You want to yell it at him now, to make him see sense, but he’s already shown you how much he’d listen.

You have to get out. Find out what’s really going on.

“This is…”He goes to make an introduction, then looks at you and there’s that distaste again. If only Thor stopped to think of the you he knows. But he doesn’t stop. What is he even going to introduce you as. You don’t want to hear it.

“Your humble servant.” you say quickly and bow before both of them. “You are right that I should not have a relationship with the King.” You add in a rush “I will speak with him at the first opportunity. Consider it over.”  You salute them as you would your sovereign then make to exit as fast as you politely can, not caring that you’ve all but admitted Thor was right.  

As you straighten up you glance at Jane Foster’s face, and see her eyes flare with an indignance you could almost believe is on your behalf.

Chapter 27

[vroenis]

Part 2

This is part 1.

It turns out reflecting over my whole life is going to be a daily affair. It doesn’t really feel that different. Also I don’t know when it started.

- When a domestic interaction induces stress, my immediate response is to reduce external signs of my presence in that space. I look for objects that indicate my presence and remove them. I am an extremely tidy person, but things like shoes etc., I’ll withdraw them from a common area i.e., foyer, and put them in the most invisible place possible such as in a bedroom wardrobe.

I’ve been doing this for a long time. I also do this socially. When I read friction or difficulty between myself and others, I withdraw from them, even when it’s one-sided on my behalf. I wait for them to demonstrate to me that they want my company, which leads to

- I’m confused as to why people don’t demonstrate that they’re desirous of my company enough, even if obvious and understandable logistics prevent it.

I appreciate that as an autistic person, I spend a lot of time in self-observation, so I may have quite literal timers running on how often I’ve been communicating with the various people in my life. For neurotypicals, I assume much of this is allegedly natural, whatever that means, so if it isn’t, I don’t know what’s happening. I’m left to assume I’m not welcome. If I’m not welcome, I’m abandoned.

- There are people in my life who have had greater awareness of my health states than others and for a longer period of time, who have nevertheless behaved in manners that I can only describe as controlling, manipulative and abusive.

Today is the day I’ve realised this and I don’t know what to do about it. They hold positions of immense power in communities. I don’t need retribution, that’s not something I’m ever interesting in, but knowing something means reconciling it and never unknowing it. They won’t acknowledge it, won’t recognise it, will absolutely deny it, will be deft and intelligent at disarming and gaslighting, and I suspect may have for a long time been subtle in what they communicate to others in shared social circles about who I am and behaviours I exhibit. This is the first time I’ve ever spoken about these things. Until now, I’ve thought of these people only in good faith. The sinking feeling I have is that their behaviours have for a long time affected others and will continue to into the future. And I don’t know what to do about that.

- I keep thinking back on things I’ve done and now that I understand myself and autism, I know exactly how I fucked-up and I wish I could go back and explain to everyone I ever met why I did the things I did and how I wouldn’t do the same things again.

Over time my self-observation and self behavioural analysis has taken over so much of my time and energy spend, not only on the present i.e., what I do in the present right now, but on reflection and how I’ve made mistakes in the past and even things I’d taken for granted; interactions from the past I may not have ever rostered for assessment. My entire life would have had a myriad of different trajectories had I been aware of ASD. The earlier I’d had awareness, the more things may have changed. I did mention this before with regards to bipolar, as in I’ve had my bipolar diagnosis for longer hence more awareness, more education, more management, but now with autism and neurotypical/neurodivergent behaviour I keep going back thru my entire life or events and interactions keep coming to me - my mind brings them to me for assessment as if to say “so what about this, then?” - not in a malicious way, either, I genuinely enjoy it, it feels like the action comes from a place of curiosity because I genuinely want to know. So many things that hadn’t made sense or had baffled me or were incongruous in my life are beginning to connect and make sense and it’s simultaneously pleasing but also sorrowful to have happen.

I don’t ever seek to alleviate myself of my accountability, I would never seek to say something wasn’t my fault as if to treat my autism as this thing that’s somehow separate from myself. I’m still me. I still did what I did. I just wish I could explain it to people and apologise to them because I’m still so so sorry and no matter who they are, even if I still don’t like them, every human deserves respect and dignity. Outside of the fact that so many things are so difficult for me to navigate in this life, regardless - I still don’t want to harm other people.

- Showers are surreal and wonderful instances of suspension and isolation.

There are few activities that can suspend time but a shower seems to be one of them. Being enveloped in heat, moisture and constant, sustained sound is immensely pleasing. I enjoy clarity of thought in which I can meditate, pursue linear, parallel, multi-dimensional, scattered or nebulous meandering thought-spaces, or simply be in suspended null-space and simply hear and feel. There are the actions of washing, including those times that are wash days for my hair, and then the rest of the time is simple state of being. I can’t simply treat a shower as brutal utility. I have few moments of peace left in my life, let me have this one.

- Oddly either I don’t stim as often or only in specific circumstances, or in specific ways, or I’ve been admonished so often by others that I’ve clamped/suppressed it so hard I can’t do it any more. Nevertheless, when other people keep making human noises all together at the same time, I become distressed.

This is a different statement to the human noises of people doing their shopping at the grocery store/supermarket. These situations are more specific to perhaps being in a room together attempting to focus on something specific or driving in a car. It’s difficult for me to be specific because in certain contexts, a cacophony of speech and noise is not only understandable and acceptable but totally fine and encouraged as in, I will encourage and induce it and I’m totally fine. Some  specific board games would be good examples and I love them and enjoy them. This would make it understandably difficult for the neurotypicals around me to try and understand under which circumstances I might need calm and peacefulness given I’m not always a quiet person, altho perhaps my own behaviour at the time might assist in telegraphing that. In some situations, people seem *to me* to begin emitting strange and unrelated noise that is difficult for me to reconcile and my response is distress. This is likely due to the lack of ability in psychoacoustic filtering. Neurotypicals can remove/ignore sounds, or have some or all of it have a reduced effect on them. I can’t speak for all ASD people but I’ve never been able to do this. All audio stimulus arrives and is processed with equal importance at all times. To loop back to the music and advertising at the supermarket, this is why I have to remove the music and advertising that plays at the supermarket, because it’s so godawful and I can’t bear it and I *can’t not hear it* and I *can’t ignore* it.

- Most neurotypicals don’t know that many of their behaviours induce stress to neurodiverse people. I don’t know how to educate them directly.

This is an edit so I hope I can get this in before too many people miss it. Some people are really receptive to learning about something and making an attempt to modifying their behaviour, others are less so, especially the elderly which for some of us at our age, means our parents. The other challenge is depending on our stress levels, it can be extremely difficult to communicate in a way that is conducive to others hearing it what our needs are. I should stop speaking in the collective and speak in the individual/personal. Unfortunately when I’m distressed and people around me ask “what’s wrong?”, that’s probably the worst time for me to tell you what I need i.e., that something you and/or everyone present is doing something that’s causing me distress. I know and understand that no-one is intentionally doing anything to cause me stress, but neurotypicals tend to take it personally.

Often NT’s first response when we tell them something they’re doing is causing stress is to get offended and say

“I didn’t mean to do this to you”

and we didn’t say you did - that’s not the point. The point is it’s distressing anyway. It’s a bit like an industrial jackhammer down the street. It doesn’t mean to offend me either, it’s a machine. It’s still battering my ears, tho. (I usually don’t mind industrial jackhammers, by the way).

This is why I’ve generally not ever said anything about anything that distresses me my whole life, I’ve just suppressed my reactions and endured it.

I’ve been suppressing and carrying so much my whole life and I think doing that has been taking it’s toll and I don’t know what the long-term consequences of that are. It’s beginning to leak, now, at my age, and I can’t really do it any longer, because I’m tired. I need the people around me to understand and help me cope.

- Only this week, in May of 2021, am I learning that Tumblr is actually a wonderful place and resource for neurodiverse people.

I will always adore and respect the rebloggers, I love you all. I’ll never be someone who reblogs endless content but I’m so happy to see people doing this, it’s a way to keep content alive, keep it distributed and keep it visible - don’t ever stop. But what I have found is that the autism tag has a high volume of people actively writing about their experiences, whether it’s their encounters with the medical industry, the process of diagnosis, social stigma, daily interaction, challenges or triumphs. All of it is important - all of it - the memes, the writing, the twitter screencaps, the push against the bad orgs and systemic misunderstanding, it’s been heart-warming to go exploring. While I write wholly on my PC, I tend to go exploring on my phone and I’ve saved started to save a few hilarious memes, but also really touching and meaningful images that mean so much because they capture so perfectly what our lives can be like.

We might be strewn across the globe, separated by kilometres and miles, we may never meet in person, and we may be very different people and personality types with broadly different artistic and cultural tastes from a myriad of different backgrounds, but in this we are united and we have this common understanding. 

So far this week if I have two good things, it’s showers and Autism Tumblr.

[petitalbert-blog]

Also, I wanted to write a shout out to witches who get no results and can't hear the gods. I feel so alienated by the way many people write about their craft - "witchcraft is work! Expect to bleed and sweat!" And so on. I work hard, I still hear nothing. And straightforwardly annoyed when those posts go on to say "actually I wish I hadn't been chosen! This path is so hard! So dark! I have sacrificed everything!" I think there's a difficult balance point between saying yes, anything worth doing is going to require effort and won't come overnight. But not making people feel constsntly not good enough. And not setting yourself up as an Expert, Who Does Real Magic opposed to everyone else who are neophytes hoping for what you have. There is a ton of ways to be a witch without hitting those standards. Revere your gods. Revere them for their own sake, not because yoy have to, but because it brings pleasure and beauty ti do so. Choose your own gods. Pick one from a book and start worshipping. We are witches and we lead the dance, we don't wait to be chosen. Don't be a mystic - that's one, especially fashionable and desirable sort of witch path, but it's equally ok yo just be a worshipper or just to love nature, you know? It's no less valid. Don't give things up. Paganism is an immanent path, which is to say, it's about living in this world. It fits in and around life. You can do witchy things while you cook or garden or whatever, like this idea thst witchcraft is rooted in pain and hardship is anathema to how I understand it, as a path of joy and beauty and of living in this world. That model where yoy give up everything and are ripped to shreds and then reborn is pretty cool and makes for a rebloggable origin story; and yet I have had so much pain in my life, so much, so much, I want my magic to be a site of joy and worship. You can get shit done as a witch in and around your daily life, and there is a different kind of power to be found in it. Do cool stuff, for their own sake -make herbal teas and do spells and play dress up, I can't emphasise this enough that results don't matter. Is it bringing you pleasure and peace? Then it's worth it. The way you are witching is a good way, in short - don't measure yourself by the standards of strangers, and what strangers say they can do or have seen. It introduces a note of hierarchy into practices which ought to be egalitarian. Just focus on you, you know? Focus on what you can do. There are so many ways of being a great witch. Don't fall into the trap of thinking other people are Doing It, and you are only aspiring to. Whenever you wave a wand, you are Doing It Right. (I'm frustrated that so many people in trad craft write like this, because it's such a mini annoyance to me every time these posts come around, like when there is a fly in the room and you can't quite catch it. I know I should ignore them but it took me so long to stop feeling bad, and if I can help someone else also realise they are good enough, then it's worth writing)