#for some reason i've been. afraid. to try writing anything while i'm in this... weird state.

[byanyan]

got a brand new weighted blanket today so i'm taking it for a test drive rn to soothe my anxiety as i finally crack my laptop open for the first time since sunday

[annabelle--cane]

hmm okay to round up some current disparate tmagp thoughts into one place:

-> the fear taxonomy: I'm not quite sure where I sit on the desires theory currently, but I think it's worth noting that while both of our case subjects from the first episode were explicitly afraid of the spooky things happening to them, none of the rest have been, and I think it's really interesting that tom the horror blogger's whole problem was that he was so desensitized to fear it made him foolhardy (the exact thing our lovely ms georgina barker overcompensated so hard to avoid). yes, you could pick probably any archives statement and try to frame it around a desire instead of a fear because that's how character motivations work, but I don't think it's wrong to point out that since episode two all of our subjects have been remarkably chill about the Horrors happening to them. I'm not totally onboard with the desires at time of writing, I think there a few details that don't quite line up with that idea, but I'm still keeping a pin in the theory.

I also don't think it's wrong to point out that things like "music so hauntingly beautiful it makes a crowd tear itself to bloody pieces" and "paranoia and eye-related gore popping up in conjunction to the magnus institute" are familiar scenarios and seem to match up to the entities as we know them. those are very specific motifs connected to very specific types of Horrors and I think saying it's random coincidence that we're seeing them again is a bit of a weird take.

-> norris, chester, and augustus. in-universe, these voices appeared out of nowhere about a year ago, and one of the central mysteries set up so far is "what the hell is up with all this weird tech?", I think it is a perfectly reasonable assumption to think these voices are part of the mystery and not just an excuse to get jonny and alex's voices in the show. if that were the case, why would there be a third voice? yes, this podcast is meant to be comprehensible to new listeners, but I don't think that rules out any direct ties to archives, I think part of the function of having fresh protagonists who don't know anything about the events of archives is that, if the audience needs to learn anything about the first show, they can learn it along with a viewer-surrogate character.

personally, I think it very unlikely that the voices are literally jon, martin, and jonah's actual consciousnesses trapped in computers, I think those characters' stories are done and there's something funkier happening here (neither them nor not them but a secret third thing, yknow), but dismissing any idea that the voices are related to the characters, again, feels like a weird take.

-> gwen bouchard. honestly I feel like the way the production team have treated gwen's connection to elias vs the way some fans have come at is kind of illustrative. I've seen a couple of groups of fans get weirdly smug about the idea that we don't know gwen is related to elias, her name could just be a red herring, meanwhile on the tmagp post-launch stream everyone there took it as obvious that gwen is a bouchard and thus related to elias. not everything is red herrings, guys. it would be an extremely weird writing move to set up a bunch of stuff with clear links and parallels to archives and have it all be meaningless.

[littledollll]

hiiiii I love your agere fics with Luci so much and I was wondering if maybe you would be up to writing a fic with caregiver Brienne and little reader (preferably gender neutral with they/them pronouns if that's okay)? I haven't been able to find any on here (*ToT)

I was thinking something like a little night time thing with lots of comfort (and no big hurt please)

Maybe something like these but it's really fine if you don't use them I'd be happy either way really

https://www.tumblr.com/cg-pup/720860299458199552/come-here-sweetie-i-know-youve-been?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/corixal/710834902156935168/nighttime-smallness?source=share

I'm sorry this ask is so long I've never requested anything before and I know you don't really write much these days and it's really okay if this idea isn't something you like or feel comfortable with or really just don't have the inspiration for. If possible could I be 🦦 anon if you do maybe write this? Thank you bye bye

Small space

Brienne of Tarth x little!reader

A/n: I’ll be honest this had me a little stumped for some reason. I wasn’t sure how to try and make sense of it in the GOT universe and then kinda realized I don’t rly have to. Also trying to make all the cgs not act/be the same when I write them.

Warnings: tiniest mention of food (fruits), nothing else.

____________________________________

When you first introduced your ‘small space’, as you and Brienne decided to call it, you were afraid she was going to believe it was something odd, or weird. Which now that you think back on it, was a little foolish to think of for Brienne of all people.

You tend to do most your regressing at night, which was luckily the perfect time for Brienne to also be home and take care of you.

After a particularly long and exhausting day, you returned home to find out Brienne had actually arrived before you, which was something that happened rarely if ever.

She seemed to have already settled at home, being changed out of her usual armor and into more comfortable clothes.

Deciding to give her a bit of a surprise, you didn’t say anything as you walked into your home and snuck up behind her.

Brienne all the while knew you were coming up behind her. She noticed you the second you arrived home, after all no good knight would be so easy to sneak up on, but she let you have your fun with it regardless.

As you came up behind her, your arms wrapping around her torso. She feigned surprised, you knew, but loved it all the same. “Got you.”

“Sure you did. Come, let me give you a proper hug.” She spoke quietly, a precious smile on her face as she turned around and pulled you in close.

Immediately you melted into her embrace. Apparently it was more needed than you realized. She looked down to see you burying yourself against her, closing your eyes with a big sigh. And her eyes immediately softened.

Her strong arms wrapped ever so gently around you, keeping you warm and close. “little one.. are you tired? do you think we should get you all ready for bed?”

It was like she could read your mind. Instantly, your head shot up to look at her as you nodded quickly, remaining clingy at her side. Brienne always found it adorable when you acted like this. Of course she wasn’t glad you were feeling tired or drained, but as long as she could help it would be all okay.

She made quick work of getting your sleepy self all ready for bed. Firstly helping you change into more comfortable clothes, lending you some of her own, which fit you like a gown. Something you both loved because it made you feel even smaller.

She sighed, remembering one thing and going out of your view for a moment, “just one second, my darling. I’m missing something.” leaving you to worry and pout over her absence. After she took longer than just two minutes to come back, you stubbornly decided to follow after her. You caught her mid-way as she was already on her way back with a small plate of fruits! Your absolute favorites too.

“You don’t have to have them all, but at least a few. Just so you have something in your tummy before sleep.” She offered gently. Her sweet behavior was always quick to convince you. Plus, how could you miss out on your favorites?

You happily nodded and took the plate, with a cheerful, “Thanks you mama!” Making her smile.

Every passing minute Brienne took notice of your sleepy state. How you’d gently rub your eyes even when she constantly insisted you didn’t because it could hurt your eyes, how you seemed zoned out as you watched her scurrying around to get everything ready for bed just perfect so you could rest with ease.

After a few minutes you were all done and even sleepier than before. Brienne was quick to put the plate away and pick you up, bringing you into bed.

“Tough day, wasn’t it, my princess?” She asks softly as she sits on the bed and pulls you into her arms again.

Nodding, you quickly cuddled yourself up as close to her as you possibly could. Feeling completely safe and protected in her arms.

“It’s alright now… I’ve got you, and I’ll make sure my little one sleeps soundly.” She said as her hands gently brushed through your hair, helping you to sleep. It didn’t take long at all, given how tired you already were.

As she watched over you, half her mind was nagging her, maybe she should’ve asked more about your day, rather than letting you just leave it at the fact it was exhausting. On the other hand, maybe it’s a conversation best left for later, when you’re well rested and feeling older.

But every bit of that worry slips as she looks down at your restful self once again. Brienne smiles softly as she sees you so peacefully drifted off to sleep in her arms. She made the right choice.

[imtrashraccoon]

I'm feeling down and really tired today so I've been reading some monster x human fanfiction. Anyways, I was suddenly inspired to write something for Nightmare and since my friend @superbfirnacho also seemed to be feeling down lately, I may have indulged in something comfy.

Nacho, I hope you like this, I was tempted to ask first but then I didn't, so... I was really tempted to write more but I didn't plan anything out and just wrote until it ended in a good place. Is it weird that I was also tempted to try and write a crossover that included Aylin meeting Ivy? I'm too tired to try and make that work right now, but I'm not opposed to it!

Cuddles By The Fire: Ivymare

The gentle crackling and occasional popping of the coals could've soothed even the most stubborn person to sleep. However, for a god like Nightmare, he was unaffected by the allure of rest. He could if he wanted to, but often didn't since the time doing so could be used for more productive things.

There was one exception though and she was currently laying asleep next to him.

Her name was Ivy and she was easily the best thing to happen to him in centuries. He wouldn't have thought he could feel any affection for anyone or anything again but lately he was realizing how wrong he had been.

Her bubbly personality and seemingly boundless positivity was mildly irritating, almost like sand between his bones. But it was nothing in comparison to the blazing sunlight of his brother's own aura.

He had pushed her away at first. She was basically the complete opposite to him and yet something about her kept him from leaving entirely.

All beings could experience negative emotions just as they could experience positive ones. He could sense that she was no different, despite how much she tried to hide it behind a bright smile. Maybe that was why he'd persuaded her to join his little crew of misfits.

Or maybe it was because she seemed so familiar... Almost like a long lost friend...

Whatever the reason, he wasn't about to let her leave his side anymore. He wasn't going to let anyone hurt her. He wasn't going to allow her happiness to be snuffed out.

She was a talented healer too. Anyone with even an idiom of mana could sense how powerful her soul was. Some may foolishly suggest that she was a Boss Monster but he knew better. Her strength rivaled that of his own and while he'd never actually inquired, he highly suspected that she was somehow related to a deity. Although, he wasn't sure if she was a god like he considered himself to be or if she had been blessed by one.

Healing wasn't all she could do though. She wasn't afraid to defend herself if anyone was foolish enough to challenge her to a fight. He'd witnessed her put Killer in his place a few times already and likely would again since the skeleton never seemed to learn his lesson.

She was also a skilled botanist and had a way with animals that he'd only ever seen from nature deities the few times he'd ventured into Reapertale. These talents weren't as useful for his work but they occasionally proved handy. It was just one other thing he admired about her since his own corruption didn't mesh well with most animals or plants.

He used one of his tendrils to set aside his journal for the time being and shifted her body a bit closer to him. He lightly ran one of his phalanges over her cheekbones, being mindful not to graze her with his claws and mar her perfect skin.

She stirred and mumbled something unintelligible but he was quick to soothe her back to sleep with a gentle kiss on her forehead. He lived for these rare quiet moments when it was just the two of them.

If his brother ever found about her, he knew that those Star Fools would immediately assume he'd kidnapped her. That wasn't entirely incorrect but it wasn't like she had ever tried to leave either. He probably would've let her, but at the same time, a darker side of him wanted to lock her away and never let anyone even look at her again.

His tendrils unconsciously coiled tighter around her body for a moment before he realized and loosened up his hold so as to not wake her.

She was his.

And he wouldn't let anyone take her away from him. Not again...

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #231

I was hoping to rest today, but today was filled with lots of stuff.

I went to therapy first thing, and talked a lot about the events of Otakon, about you, and about what I tried to do. I told my therapist a lot more about the event than I wrote in my letters; I'm somewhat afraid of writing them down, getting my hopes up, and ending up disappointed.

They seemed proud of me, though. My therapist, I mean. It's not normal for me to so boldly take up space even with ordinary people, let alone with people powerful enough to weave your fate. If it's for you, though, I can probably rise up to any challenge, no matter how scary it is.

It's in their hands. We'll see what happens in a few years, I suppose.

I saw the dandelion-floof-haired man today, who gave me a pin that he made himself because he liked my Eevee hat; I wrote about him some time ago. Maybe you remember, or maybe not. Either way, he invited me to eat lunch together and to talk about various things at a nearby diner. He seems nice enough; I doubt he'd want to do anything weird to me, and even if he did, I am more than capable of defending myself if I have to. We ate; I got stuffed mushrooms, but I was a bit too soup-brained to think to take any pictures of them for you; I'm sorry. Still, they were some of the best ones I've ever had. They were filled with a kind of seafood stuffing; I wonder if you would have liked them.

He asked me what I've been up to. Lately, I had been elbows deep in preparing myself for the convention and the thing I am trying to do for you, so I spoke about that, along with my rationale. He seemed to understand, and he related to me with similar experiences and thoughts of his own, and it was very good!

By the time that was done with, I had to go to physical therapy. Because my day of the week changed from Wednesday to Tuesday due to now having a bakery job, I am seeing a new person named K. Because K is unfamiliar with me, he began with an evaluation. And for this evaluation, he checked out my ribcage. I had not yet had an evaluation of the integrity of my ribcage done (which is weird, considering I have a RIB injury…), but it was done today, and it was discovered that, while the left side of my ribcage is springy and bouncy in all the ways that it's supposed to be, the whole right side of my ribcage is, for whatever reason, not doing ANY of what it's supposed to do.

If you push on the right side, it doesn't spring back to its original position on its own; it just kind of stays deflated. In fact, it's not expanding properly when I breathe, either, which means that instead of my intercostal muscles and diaphragm doing the work of breathing on the right side of my body, my neck and shoulder is trying to do that work instead, and the result, naturally, is strain in those muscles, which is why they are perpetually tight. My pelvis is also apparently rotated relative to my ribcage, as my body's way of trying to compensate for the fact that the right side of my ribcage is refusing to move or do anything.

Hopefully this might mean that we're one step closer to figuring out what exactly the problem is, and fixing it. Suppose we'll see. It'll be nice to be able to use my right arm again, to laugh, to sing, to yawn, to sneeze, and to breathe deeply and to turn my head without pain. I'm hesitant to get my hopes up, but still… maybe it could work out. Maybe. I'm in a lot of pain all the time, and I'm not able to do any of the things I used to love to do with any kind of consistency, and putting on that bra and that corset belt for the costume (in service to looking the part of someone who is capable of trying to help you) left me messed up for a couple days, and while I tried to put on a brave face so nobody at the convention would know and think I'm weak for it… still… I'm tired and I want this injury, whatever it is, to go away and never come back.

…Sephiroth, I want so badly to return to the water and resume my mermaid training. I'd say you have no idea, but I imagine you might miss eating a nice big bowl of pasta pescatore, or feeling the breeze and the sun and the rain on your skin, and being able to look at trees and mountains and valleys and plains and sky with just as much, if not even more fervor. Hopefully, you'll be able to do all those things again, and more, relatively soon. What I wouldn't give to see you smile and dance, and to hear you laugh and sing. I want that even more than I want the pain in my ribs to stop. If I had the choice between your safety and my own body's healing, then that's an easy one; I'd choose your safety every time, without question.

Well anyway. The ribcage evaluation left me in quite a lot of pain after the fact. I had intended to get some pizza, and maybe some frozen yogurt, and then go home and do the dishes piled up in the sink (it was expected; I was gone from home for a bunch of consecutive days, trying to help you…), but in the end, I was in enough pain that I couldn't do any of those. So instead, I went home and did some leisure writing.

It's J's birthday today. And J isn't really much of a birthday celebration kind of person, but still, he and M and I went out for ice cream, and it was good. I got a soft-serve ice cream flavored with cookie butter (never seen that before!!!), and it was good. M got a pretty standard chocolate ice cream, and that was also good. And J, amongst other things, got a "Northern Lights Sherbet", which was apparently sour apple, blue raspberry, and grape flavored all at once???

Sephiroth. I can tell you from personal experience today that if someone offers you a "Northern Lights Sherbet", it is a TRAP. It tasted as confused, scatterbrained, and incoherent as a poor-quality children's cartoon - if this flavor was a plot, then it was ALL over the place, like its writer could not maintain an attention span for more than 5 consecutive seconds. If the phrase "what the fuck" was a flavor, this would be it.

But apparently, some people like it enough that it's viable to keep its place on the menu???? I can't make pretend like I understand. But I can respect it if other people like it. It's just not for me. I'll count on the people who like it to save me from it if someone decides to torture me by foisting it upon me.

Hey, Sephiroth? I know I've asked you about ice cream flavors you might like. But are there any ice cream flavors that you hate? I'm curious…

Anyhoot. It's getting pretty late, so I think I'll stop writing now and go to bed.

I love you. Please take nice care of yourself, okay? And stay safe out there, too. I'll write again soon…

Your friend, Lumine

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 25 of Harrow the Ninth

So, the Nook app has decided that now it's going to open on my bigger monitor, which is a bit annoying, since I can't browse the book and write the tumblr post at the same time, but since it doesn't have a windowed mode I'm not sure how to switch it back to my laptop

Ok, never mind, while I was writing that, the Nook app crashed again, and when I re-opened it it opened on my laptop

Aroace rep, but from the character whose main role in the story so far is that he's trying to kill the protagonist for no reason?

Although, speaking of Pyrrha, who we so far don't know anything about except that she was Gideon's cavalier, since Gideon the First is a regular Lyctor he must also be Pyrrha on some level, so possibly some of his odd actions are actually Pyrrha's actions, or are because of Pyrrha in some way, and that's why John thinks they are out of character for Gideon

I guess it could be technically possible that Harrow hallucinated that whole thing, but honestly, it would be boring if all of the weird stuff in this book turns out to be a baseless hallucination. I guess the mystery part of this book is figuring out how much of this Cytherea-related stuff is hallucinations and how much is real

So I guess this means that on the fourth or maybe last day of this ultimatum, Harrow will make Ianthe a bone arm and this problem will be solved?

I can't decide if Ianthe has some sort of Plan to get Harrow to make her a bone arm, or if pretending like she doesn't care is just her way of coping

So Ianthe burns the onions (or at least she says she does) and Harrow just doesn't cook them at all. Also, I get that Harrow wouldn't be familiar with brightly colored vegetables, but wouldn't she also not be familiar with brightly colored candy? Even if they had candy on the Ninth, candy is made in bright colors because people expect good food to be bright colors and that makes the candy look more appetizing. If denizens of the Ninth are not used to brightly-colored food, it doesn't make sense that they'd have brightly colored candy, either

So, I mean, everyone disliked or hated this soup, and we've heard previously that Lyctors don't actually need to eat. I can see the others eating the soup to be polite, but Gideon the First has kind of crossed the line where politeness is going to have any effect by repeatedly trying to kill her. So why did he eat the soup?

Beautiful. If I've understood what John has said about Lyctor mortality well enough, I think he shouldn't have been able to survive this if John hadn't magicked him better, even if I'm wrong and he has no trouble with the necromancy part of Lyctorhood

Please, John, tell us about the last time you ate human being

Unless he's just talking about when Cassiopeia cut off her finger while cooking?

This is a really odd reaction to finding out that Harrow can't sleep for fear of Gideon the First so she is trying to kill him so she can live a normal life? Like, she is his Lyctor, she is blindly devoted to him, he should be pleased that she is this capable in the face of this impossible situation, especially if he really doesn't want Gideon to kill her, because her being capable means she would be better able to protect herself. I wonder if he also is afraid of her hurting him for some reason, for the same reason Gideon the First is? And Mercy's job was not so much to teach her as to do surveillance? Only, if he considered her a legitimate threat, I'm sure he could have just killed her himself at any point, right? Maybe that would wreck the persona of a kindly god that he's projecting, but I almost feel like he could get away with justifying anything at this point. And he asked Mercy if they could put her in the room with him when they fought Number Seven, and Mercy pointed out that that would kill her, there's no way he could have not known that, right?

Also, I'm amused that every time Mercy talks about how young Harrow is, the age gets younger and younger. But her horror that Harrow is so young has definitely made her underestimate her

So I guess this incident reminded Augustine of one of the dead Lyctors? Or Anastasia

Or: "Yeah, that's fair"

Now I'm interested to see if he gets some more characterization in the future

[princesscolumbia]

Return to Recipient - A Ranma 1/2 fanfic

Summary:

Ranma hasn't been feeling right for as long as he can remember, and he just figured that's normal. But after Jusenkyo, and especially after Jusendo, the feeling of "wrongness" has been getting more and more noticeable... ...because he doesn't feel it in his cursed form. He continues to just cope, keeping his struggle to himself, until he finds a letter tucked into his old travel pack addressed to him, written by him, from a 48 hour period that he doesn't remember and nobody will talk to him about.

Notes:

During the writing of 🔞 And at This Point I'm Afraid to Ask 🔞, I realized I was speed-running Ranma's egg-to-hatched trans journey and made an author's note of that. In the comments for that work, I got a note bemoaning the fact that I didn't spend more time on Ranma's realization, coming out, and social transition as a woman while understanding my reasoning. I replied stating that I needed a good hook, something that hadn't been hammered to death by other authors, and at the time I didn't have anything. I really got it in my head that I should do something, so I posted to Tumblr and started putting it out to the universe that I was Poly Transwoman Author Seeking Story Inspiration and Motivation, in Open Relationship with current WIPs. I was scrolling through the "Ranma 1/2" tag this morning trying to find something I hadn't read when I bumped into Dear Diary by JaquiK. I've read it, of course, and it's short and, for what it sets out to do, good. "Feels like it needs more," says I, "Wish the author would continue it, make something more of it than they did." The little author that lives in my head rent free and looks remarkably like Ranma-chan ran up behind me and socked me in the back of my head, "Dummy! There's your plot hook!" Then she backed a dump truck up and dropped about 3/4 of a story's worth of ideas on me. With the 2023 holidays in full swing (it's Cyber Monday as I type this) I'm not sure how quickly I'll get to outlining this or getting chapters 2-5 out (my personal metric for whether the author is serious about a work is if they have 5 chapters out. This has been a solid rule of thumb for long-form fiction and hasn't failed me regardless of fandom), but I wanted to get at least chapter 1 out as quickly as possible. Tags will be added as I add more chapters, mostly because my writing process means I'm not sure what tags will apply until I'm writing something that necessitates them. 😋 I hope you enjoy it.

Preview below the cut

He had opened it and read the letter. Halfway through he realized he was shaking and that was when he'd vacated to the roof. He finished reading it fairly quickly, read it again, and then again. He was sure it was a fake of some sort at first, but it was like there was a voice in the back of his head telling him it was the genuine article. Not a 'voice,' per se, but like he could hear it in his girl-form's voice as he read it, like a memory of her reading it to herself after she'd written it to make sure it made sense. After, he'd sat there for nearly half an hour, watching as the sky turned deeper blue in anticipation of the sunset. Sighing for reasons he couldn't articulate yet, he looked at the top of the paper, noting the date again. It'd been written months earlier, on a day that was a big gap in Ranma's memory. This wasn't unusual for him, of course, his memory was notoriously spotty. This particular gap stood out, however, because he hadn't been able to tease the memory out no matter how he worked it, and everyone in the house behaved...weird whenever he asked about it. That more than anything told him that whatever had happened was significant enough the be memorable...about a time he had no memory.

He read the letter again,

Dear Ranma Saotome, I hope quite sincerely that you never find this letter, that you won't ever need to find it because you won't have come back. That sounds awful, but if you're back, then that means that I'm gone. I woke up this morning, and for once in my life I felt right. I didn't realize until it'd been explained to me by Akane that I didn't belong. I'm somehow in your body, awake and alive and able to be just me, and all thanks to Jusenkyo. And, apparently, a smack on the head with a pan. I love Akane, but she has such a temper. And I do feel ALIVE. I have your memories, but they're so...cloudy, so dark and hazy. When I make myself remember them, it's like a layer of shadow and pain is over all of them. It hurt so much to be you that I can understand why you hid away and I came out. Your body makes me feel wrong.  I don't know what it means, how it happened or why I'm here. I think maybe a doctor might be able to help, but then we'd have to explain about the...'curse.' I don't like calling it a curse, that would mean it was bad. For me, it's not. It's wonderful and beautiful and it means I get to exist in a body that doesn't make me feel like I'm wrong. Uncle Tendo splashed me with hot water and turned me into a boy, and it was horrible. I wanted to climb out of my skin to make the wrongness stop. Don't get me wrong, I understand that you're quite handsome, in another world I could probably see you and consider you a fine catch, maybe even try to make you my husband somehow. But to be wearing your body felt like looking down and seeing a

At this point there were several attempts to write a kanji, each attempt being scratched out with the pen. Finally, the writer of the letter managed to put down what they were trying to say;

cat and not being able to get away from it. Being a boy felt horrible and wrong. You're welcome to it, I never could. In case I haven't made it clear, I'm a woman. Well, I suppose I'm still a girl, but I'm growing up to be a woman and I have dreams of being like big sis Kasumi and keeping a nice house and getting flowers, maybe planting a garden. I want to be married, but I guess I haven't grown up enough yet, because I don't think I like boys yet. I keep imagining a future where I'm married and being a housewife, but all I can see as a 'husband' is Akane. Isn't that silly? She's a tomboy, but she's not that much of a boy! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o In case you do read this letter, take care of Akane. She took good care of me today, even though it was very obvious she missed you terribly. I'm writing this in our room as I'm trying to sleep, hoping that it will help with my racing thoughts and the feeling of loneliness; father is refusing to sleep in the room, he considers me disgraceful. I find without someone else around I cannot sleep. I imagine that's because, from what I remember, that's the only life you've ever known, and technically you and I are the same person. If you are reading this, then I'm gone. Please find a way to stop that awful pain you carry with you. I experienced it for only a few hours, you've had it for your entire life. As strong as you are, as much of a martial artist as everyone says, I can only imagine that much pain will break you someday. Love, Ranma Saotome

Pain... thought Ranma. She called it pain.

Read the whole thing on AO3

[letmebehuman16]

Dear Diary.

Amid nightly storms only they can hear, a narrator chronicles a decent into fear and paranoia. Stalked by eerie figures, and strange events that haunt their daily life. What begins as as a personal diary, quickly turns into a disturbing list of events, documentation of the unexplainable.

(this is an ongoing project.)

15/12/2006

I was looking through some of mum's things, the house was in a complete state and there was a lot to look through, but I found something weird. It was stained and ripped, kind of wrinkled but it was a page filled with these odd scribbles in graphite. None of the words made sense and I couldn't read anything on the page, but it showed how bad she got. I mean, just walking into the house I could tell: Bin bags everywhere, mouldy food, the sink was filled with dishes covered in rotten food, the place smelled absolutely foul like someone had died in it, there were flies everywhere… It was heartbreaking. She's been… strange, i've mentioned that many times, but she was always so clean, or as clean as she could be. Hell, maybe I'm remembering things wrong, but seeing the place where I grew up in such disarray, it's unexplainable. 

Apart from those pages and the mess, I couldn't find a reason for all of this and mum is still unresponsive. 

17/12/2006

I saw something last night. Though, I feel my lack of sleep is the reason for it, it’s not something I can even comprehend or begin to explain. 

I can’t describe it either, I’m stuck with the feeling. It’s like waking up from a nightmare you can’t remember. I still feel the fear. 

My mind is probably playing tricks on me, I can’t say I’ve been looking after myself. A colleague pointed out how unkempt I look which was embarrassing. 

I need to start taking care of myself again but it’s so difficult. I feel like I’m losing time, technically I am, the days are shorter, but it feels like everything is random, nothing is structured anymore. I’ve been able to brush off these weird occurrences as natural things, but it’s worrying me now. Why is everything going wrong? 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

5/1/2007

Where do I even begin? 

Christmas with Ruby’s family was nice, they’re very lively and Christmas dinner was amazing. Ruby got me a tattoo kit and I’ve been practising since. She didn’t have to get me anything. I managed to get her some art supplies, a few oil paints, a canvas and some good pencils. She’s like family, and now, she’s the only thing remotely close to that.

Mum died shortly after Christmas, she had a seizure. I’m still trying to process it all, it was so sudden, and unexpected. I’m hoping writing it down would help, but I can’t think of what to say. The funeral was depressing, as all funerals are, but with such little family it felt more like a sad, sparse gathering than a celebration of her life. I was the only one who said anything about her, and while I tried to think of things to say, I was met with a brick wall. I couldn’t remember anything. Only recent events, her fast downward spiral and the words “I’m sorry.” 

Everything since the funeral has been a blur. I continued to work, I kept to my routine afraid of stepping out and getting lost. Most nights have consisted of staring up at the ceiling, hoping that at some point, I’d be able to rest. It’s all futile. 

Everyday is becoming monotonous, and I feel like I’m slipping through the cracks in reality. I’m hearing things, seeing things that aren’t there, I have a constant feeling that something bad is going to happen— and so far, that feeling has been right. So many bad things have happened. Maybe that feeling is my instinct? Maybe I’m just assuming the worst, or simply, maybe I’m just being paranoid. 

I was working late tonight, short staffing had thrown my reduced hours out of the window. I got that feeling again. Waking up from a nightmare I couldn’t remember. Like I had seen something I couldn’t quite grasp, or comprehend.

 After that feeling passed, the shop was a mess, produce all over the floor, broken glass, liquids and sticky jams spilled and an almost artistic chaos. I spent a while trying to tidy up a mess I didn’t even know the cause of. I don’t think anyone would understand the amount of confusion I’m feeling. 

When I left work, it took me a while to snap out of an almost robotic-like state. I was doing everything automatically, or I’d become more aware of how automatic I had been. Maybe this had been happening for far longer than I thought. 

It’s a new year.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

13/1/2007

Things have improved slightly. So far there have been no weird occurrences, and I’ve been able to get a decent night's sleep. I think I’ve just been so exhausted my body is forcing me to sleep. Either way, I’m grateful for it. 

I had an argument with Ruby, we never usually argue, and when we do it gets patched up pretty quickly. She said some really hurtful things, and in the heat of the moment I let myself crack. We haven’t spoken in a few days. I apologised, but she seems almost adamant on having me out of her life now. I think I really messed up. 

I don't know how to fix things between us, and I really don't want to lose her. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

17/1/2007

It's only been a few days and I already have so much to cover. I've decided to move. Moving to a different part of the country would be easier, however, too much has happened around me. I don't feel safe here anymore. 

If I moved to a different country, surely whatever has been following me for the past few months would give up. Maybe it's a rash decision, and I should think about this more, but rationality aside, I want to be unknown. I want to start fresh and there's nothing keeping me here anymore. 

I can't explain the recent event that made me seriously consider this possibility, I don't even want to think about it. I just need to start fresh, give myself some sort of stability, and peace. 

I haven't heard anything from Ruby. I don't know what I'm expecting, a heartfelt apology? I tried to visit her place and she either wasn't in, or is ignoring me completely. Either way, her message has been received. She clearly wants to stick by her word this time. 

The strangest thing is, I don't know what caused this. I know I’ve been difficult to be around, and maybe I haven't tried to make an effort like I used to, but surely they're all reasonable excuses. Ok-- maybe I’ve shut her out slightly, but would you blame me? I don't want to drag her into whatever mess I've found myself in. The last thing I want is for her to end up the same way. She's struggled enough. 

During the argument, she wasn’t herself. Usually she's so sarcastic and lighthearted, but it was almost as if she couldn't stand to see me, like my presence brought her physical harm.

For once I am truly alone. It's terrifying. I don't know what to do with myself anymore. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

10/2/2007

If this diary is found I'm sure you've been reading the entries written above and below. I'm terrified for my life.Please hand this journal to local authorities if found.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

10/2/2007

I handed my notice into work today. I think it's safe to say that my boss wasn't too happy, but it's not my problem anymore. I'm just glad to never have to set foot in that shop again. 

In regards to moving, I have settled on a small town in the US, the area is kind of rough, but rent is cheap enough and even though it's small, it's compact, people nearby, buildings closer together which would give me some sense of security at least. The least of my worries involve people at the moment. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

15/2/2007

This was posted through my letterbox today. Some of the symptoms are familiar, and it further solidified my decision to move. I'm hoping to get away from all of this stuff. I've stuck it in here to keep it safe, it could be useful.

What's confusing me is who would post this? Who would even have access to this information and why? Why would someone do this to me? 

[scriptlgbt]

I'm writing a story and I'd like to how trans people get/treat STDs. If they haven't had bottom surgery is it no different than someone with those parts who is cis? But if they have, what differences are there? How about someone with no genitals?

In general it's pretty much the same as it would be for cis people. Bloodwork and a urine sample are the standard, and aren't really any different based on what someone's genitalia is like.

Pap smears and other sorts of exams can be dysphoria inducing as well, and there's some situation where it may be difficult to use a speculum because of atrophy (which can be for all sorts of reasons, hormones, vaginismus, imperforate hymen, intersex stuff). And people whose vaginas are surgically constructed don't typically have a cervix, so pap smears don't really get done as far as I know. (Sometimes speculums are used for other things though, like making sure everything is healing right, trimming or removing stitches from surgery, etc.)

But for the most part, the differences for STI testing specifically are mostly social, and can go different ways based on who is administering the test. Pap smears are in particular stressful for trans people who may have genitalia that's been altered by hormones. (I know it's irrational but the worry about getting a boner during a pap test, for instance, has crossed my mind a lot.)

Some other testing can be thrown for a loop because of the way procedure etiquette works. I had to have a transvaginal ultrasound once to check for ovarian cysts and there were definitely parts of it that were weird for me. (Transvaginal ultrasounds involve the ultrasound wand going inside the front hole for an accurate reading of specific parts of the reproductive system.) For instance, the ultrasound tech was a cis man and as part of their protocol, a cis woman nurse had to be in the room while I underwent this procedure. I hadn't asked about that ahead of time or really thought anything about it - I was in the emergency room trying to get to the bottom of extreme abdominal pain and I figured I could endure what I needed to. But in an ideal world, I'd be able to ask for a non cis person to be in the room with me I think. (I came in an ambulance, which would not take my partner with me.) (It turned out to be a 4mm kidney stone by the way, no ovarian cysts.)

Another anecdote that may be relevant to this topic is that sometimes doctors get weird about not knowing what you're testing for, because they don't know what body parts you have (and which were added at what points, made of what material). Prior to the transvaginal ultrasound, a doctor asked me what "chromosomes" I had. I honestly told him I did not know, I hadn't ever had a karyotype test as far as I knew. The doctor stumbled over himself a lot and I don't remember what else he said right after that, other than he was fumbling, got corrected, and that he was clearly Trying His Best. I interrupted the second or third useless question with, "are you asking if I have ovaries in case it might be a burst ovarian cyst or something?"

He was instantly relieved and said yes, so I told him.

There's a big problem I've noticed, that when people talk about these sorts of topics, they aren't specific enough in order to address what they mean. We use euphemisms like "assigned female" because people don't know that someone "assigned female" can have literally any body type. People seem afraid to name body parts, so they use euphemisms that rely on stereotypes and assumptions in order to be understood. But when you realize that people "assigned female" can be intersex, can have hysterectomies, can have testes, can have phalloplasties, and that everyone's parts are more or less analogous (skenes gland = prostate, etc), you realize how useless these broad categories are. If you want to ask if someone could carry a pregnancy, ask if they could carry a pregnancy. Not if they have certain chromosomes or were DFAB. Specifics matter. If I knew I was XY, that doctor would probably have assumed that the pattern of people with XY chromosomes not menstruating would include me. And if I did have ovarian cysts, or even a pregnancy, this could have dramatically impacted my health outcomes. (There have been stillbirths because of situations like this where people did not act fast enough because of ignorance around trans bodies.) I could have given in and guessed my chromosomes when the doctor asked, but what if my answer turned out to not be true? And what if the lack of confidence in my answer saved my life in some way?

I realize this is pretty far deviated from your original topic, but in terms of testing difficulties, it does feel like the sort of anecdote that would be very informative about these issues.

- mod nat

[darkkitty1208]

Sooooo. Hi. I'm back from the dead.

Some updates for if anyone is interested at all (under cut for those who, well, are not):

IRL is not doing Super Great but it could be worse and thankfully it isn't. The Horrors persist but so do I

I've been at a low the past few weeks (emotionally and err, otherwise) and have been generally lethargic lately but I'm building myself back up and that's all that matters, I think. Otherwise I am doing pretty fine :v

I think part of the reason why I've been so afraid to come back on here is because I felt the need (not pressure, just like, an incessant urge) to create more fics to post and share. And I know there's no real pressure here and if anything I write for myself, but still. The feeling is there.

Speaking of which: I've been distancing myself from writing these days and I wasn't exactly sure why, and it took me a while to understand why I was reacting that way. So creating and writing for me requires a feeling of creative fulfillment and I've been lacking that lately. These days all I've been doing is writing out prompts and barely putting in the effort to write anything substantial or, yk. Something I can be passionate about or proud and satisfied of. Not that I wasn't enjoying it, there's still several works I'm proud of and loved writing like the Stephen healing arc fic from about a month or so ago, but I needed to feel like it was less an obligation and more like how I intended it to be: a fun, no-pressure, enjoyable hobby. I'm gonna be directing my works towards that now and focus on how *I* feel about it first before others. (For a long time I thought I understood that well enough to actually do it, but dear god is it easier said than done. Been writing for I think nearly 4 years now and I still struggle with this for some reason. Ugh. The brain can be weird sometimes.)

But anyway; I am not quitting, I will keep writing, I'm sorry I was gone for so long and without warning (again) xP

Also. I cut my thumb by accident with a knife (I was slicing an apple, I do not like the skin of apples) the other day and it is Not ideal. Typing this out on mobile and by thumbs is Not a great idea. Ouchies. Another reason I haven't been writing.

Anyway. That's probably everything. For now I'll try to catch up on all the things I've missed while gone! :D

[rainbowvolt]

I tried this once already but out of nowhere I got attacked by the overwhelming notion that my antics are pointless and that the world around me is crumbling and so I deleted the entire message and took some time to journal out my feelings in the classic rambling poetry style that I have perfected over the years. It didn't make me feel better nor did it provide any fresh prospective but I'm feeling better today so I came to the conclusion that if nothing matters then I'm going to go back to inviting just a little bit of chaos into the everyday lives of people I have never met just because at least im having fun that way. That being said, what the fuck is up gamer? I put on some sublime to write this one to bit now amazon music is playing beck (loser) but I actually really like that song so I'll allow it. Anyway I was on hinge the other day, because just like you I am chronically single, and unlike you I do care because being alone with my thoughts for too long drives me insane and to do shit like this for fun. So I'm swiping and I'm complimenting I mean just imagine me turning on the God damn charm, and I match with this one girl who I think is attractive and we're chatting it up and suddenly bam, no reason at all, I lose all interest. I just felt like it was pointless to even keep talking to her my heart just wasn't in it so I did, I stopped. I probably still could hit her up if I wanted but the truth is it's just a lot of work, relationships that is, and I don't think I have the time to dedicate someone that I want to be able to dedicate. It's weird. Life. Love. Happiness. I try to remind myself that happiness, at least the way that we see in happily ever after movies and books, doesn't really exist. The best you I can ever hope for is to be content. And I'm not sure if that's true or if that's pure unfiltered copium that I'm doling out to myself on a strict rationing schedule so I can make it through the throes of years long depressive episodes. I've considered therapy but whats a therapist going to tell me? Oh you're unhappy for literally no reason, just take these pills? I've done that ya know, the pills didn't make me happy they just made me numb to the world around me and incapable of emotions. Plus my job would kick me out onto the streets if I sought out help, I already got a waiver for it the one time and if I get back on them I'm afraid it'll be game over for my career. So I guess I'm kinda screwing the pooch here. It's always like that, coin tosses and horse races I guess. I just want to break free. I don't know if that'll solve it all, but I want the option to at least seek it out. I used to believe, genuinely, without an ounce of fucking irony that my depressive thoughts and feelings, and my borderline schizophrenic tendencies were genuine fucking shortcuts to creativity. I would sit there and really channel them into my poetry, but you know what? While some of that shit is undoubtedly the best I ever wrote, it wasn't because mental illness is some sort of magical potion, it's not because hurt and pain breeds greatness, it's because I was just being truthful I think, as raw and true as I could possibly be. And I've read some of it to people ya know, like my mom and a few friends, and they just say it's so good and I guess I appreciate their support but it's not good, it's bad ya know, i was trying to share a piece of me that i rarely let anyone see and I guess people just saw it as a piece without the deep emotional relationship that it has to my psyche, maybe I gotta specify like hey this is real shit. But ya know I've also been trying to breed a mental positivity, I try to tell myself good job and "hell yeah dude" for anything that could be considered an accomplishment. I wouldn't say it's the most effective but maybe it's doing a little something. This whole self awareness thing is kinda new to me, obviously, like I seriously lived the first 8 years of my life without a single thought, I remember like watching TV or having a conversation and it was just static upstairs.

Which is kinda funny actually cause now all I fucking do is think. Ugh. To be a frog. A mindless bug eating happy little frog. Those guys have got it made. Love frogs. A ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark and disappointing world. That and when people say bazinga. That shit is hilarious. Also, you have to say bazinga, that's the whole point of this. We've established a raport and now I'm cashing in pal, you gotta say bazinga, you owe me. And if you don't I'm reporting you to PepsiCo. They will bottle and carbonate your ass. You'll be sold worldwide. I wouldn't risk it just fucking say bazinga. I'm dialing them right now, doot doot doot look I've only got a few numbers left last chance bud

I, an autistic person who is currently wearing a flash t shirt, have been asked to say.. that word. Irony aside.. no. I'm not falling for your silly tricks, your insightful-incel Seinfeld style stand up routine, and so.. I turn it back on you. You have to say 'wubba lubba dub dub'. I'm exchanging all my favours, my coupons are going straight in to this uncomfortably shaped vending machine and my goodness something better come out. It's time to make good on your reputation, time to come forth and fulfil your destiny, to do what must be done; it's time to whip out a test tube or two to help Frankenstein some confidence into that ugly little lump of brain mass and say the damn words. Say. The damn. Words. Wubba lubba dub dub.

[magnetiix]

I’d love to know how you’d write for Rock tbh

Send in an ask with the name of a Mega Man character that I don’t have as a muse, and I’ll try to talk about how I’d characterize them! Classic and MMX only! (Still accepting!)

((Oh this one is a toughie tbh. I'm not, like? really good with heroic protagonists, especially not those of such... purity like Rock. I find them really challenging, because it's really easy for me to fall into that sort of -hand waves- spiral into hell.))

((To answer the question seriously, Rock is someone who I don't see as soft, but rather as stubbornly gentle. Soft is a really poor way to describe how I'd characterize Rock, because at the point where he'd be in my verse, he's not? like. reluctant to fight. He's actually developed a somewhat severe side to him, though it's not cruelty. It's pure determination. Blues has trained him hard and well, and he sees the Stardroid War as the ultimate proof of his success in training Rock to bear the burden of the world on his shoulders. Rock is not afraid to arm himself. I think it's truly a testament to Rock's will and the purity of his soul that he only started to truly falter and doubt his desire to fight when facing the end of the world, and nothing sooner.))

((He's got a sharp edge to his gaze. I'd consider his eyes very piercing, actually, in a way that only Blues can match. It's that wisdom and assurance of one's skills that can only come with decades of experience against countless odds. Rock inherited a lot of Blues' best traits, and while initially (read: during the events of the manga) very naive, I like to think he's gotten very good at reading others, even if he still has his moments of tunnel vision.

I know Rock is a child robot, but with respect to the Arigaverse, I can't see him as anything younger than 14 myself. I think I'd clock him in at 16 in my verse.

There's no rhyme or reason to what I'm saying rn by the way I'm just rambling as my thoughts come fsdglkjhs

Rock knows by now that none of the Wilybots will ever consider not fighting him unless they share a common goal that takes greater priority. Turbo's mockery of him during the Battle and Chase tournament stung him bad. Does it stop him from giving them a chance? No. But he knows they won't take it. It's courtesy at this point for him.

To go back to Rock's stubborn gentleness, Rock is!! incredibly stubborn. To the point where he is very, very willing to defy Blues, who not outranks him in both seniority and raw firepower but is his only Master in the Robot Master hierarchy, and has even succeeded in getting Blues to stand down. The only other Robot Master who can reliably get Blues to stand down would be Roll, and he listens to Roll far more frequently than he does Rock. Rock's stubbornness is absolutely inherited from Blues, and he's very willing to butt heads with near anyone except Roll if he disagrees with them. That being said, he does refuse to come to unnecessary blows, unlike Blues. While Blues will lash out and punish someone for angering him, Rock will always take the negotiating route first. He's also quite happy to give the Wilybots a chance if they come to him without the intent of fighting, but he knows better than to blindly trust them. There are limits to what he will do for them without some sort of exchange, now that he's been through so much and Blues has drilled endless caution into his head. I think Rock would be very good at separating his war life from his normal life.

I don't... think that he'd get tired of all the fighting. Like, not depressed. It's a bit of a weird take on Rock compared to what I've seen, and I'm aware of this. But to me, it's like... How do I say this?

Rock is the only Robot Master aside from Blues who has assigned himself a directive.

But unlike Blues, who had none to begin with other than to 'learn', Rock has two directives: one for Rock, and one for Mega Man. And as such, for as long as Earth needs defending, he will defend Earth.

If there was one word I could use to describe Rock, I think it'd be noble.))

[mannatea]

I did a little more outlining for the next parts of the story; hoping to have either more scenes outlined by Friday night or actually written, but I'd like to mentally have the rest of the story kind of lined up and ready to work toward this weekend.

I'm a little afraid if I don't outline it a bit more strictly than the vague stuff I have that I'll end up wandering (as evidenced by an entire scene I wrote yesterday—though it could be argued it's useful to the story it also just sort of happened). Obviously I don't want anything I write to feel too scripted, but I also want to avoid meandering (because that's when things start getting boring).

In happier news, I'm quite happy with working on just one story at a time. Historically I'd often work on many at a time, and all that ended up doing was burning me out (ping-ponging of attention and shifting gears regularly + trying to keep track of multiple big projects was exhausting). Letting myself work on one long story at a time while I allow myself the ability to write the occasional one-shot has been working out surprisingly well. Like right now, I don't even want to write anything but the story I'm currently working on...which could not have been me in 2007 or 2010 or even 2016.

I did briefly consider taking ToS prompts on my sideblog when this story is done but I'm a bit worried I'll suck at it for some reason. Bizarre frame of mind to be in because I know most prompts I wrote for people in the SnK fandom were very well received by everyone, but IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE THEN & this year started I've been mostly just writing what I want to see. Maybe I'll have to do a prompt form that is vague enough I feel I still have good control over things...or one of those "have people write a sentence and incorporate it into the fic" type things. My original prompt idea I was going to do was the good ol "5 times X, 1 time Y" type of format, because I dearly miss writing those, but eh. Things to chew on.

(I also have a few old FE pieces I need to rewrite, including this weird one about Mark from FE7 that was not well received when I posted it initially, just because.)

[ofstoriesandstardust]

you most definitely do not need to answer this if you're not comfortable (or just don't want to), but i saw you say you had grown somewhat resentful of the same mistakes universe and i was curious as to why. i am not personally a writer, but i have a fair amount of friends who are and i have seen similar things happen to them with stories they had put tons of time and effort into, for a variety of different reasons. i know a lot of authors struggle with not getting much interaction on fics, and i can imagine putting something out there that you are proud of and spent a lot of time on and then not hearing anything can feel super disappointing, and also a bit like just chucking your stuff into a void??? i know some other friends of mine have stopped writing because the fandom itself sucked and they were getting weird pointless hate for no reason.

I am definitely sad you've ended/taken a long break from the series, because it's clear you put a ton of time, effort, and care into the same mistakes series, and you developed a character that was deeply nuanced and unique, but also youre doing it all for free and for fun (ideally) so you don't owe anyone anything. I'm for sure rambling at this point but basically i have loved reading the series and i hope somewhere down the line you can start writing again for fun and for yourself!

hey!! i am more than happy to talk about this and the only reason I haven't until now because I wasn't sure anyone really cared and I didn't want it to be misconstrued as whining or ungratefulness. this is probably more of an answer than you were looking for but here we go...

before i came into the top gun fandom, I was very used to chucking my things into the void, as you said. some of my umbrella academy stuff got attention, but aside from a few key mutuals, there wasn't a whole lot. and I was okay with it because I was writing for me and no one else.

and then the og same mistakes trilogy caused my blog to blow up and I was very overwhelmed with the extraordinary overnight attention everything was getting. i went from nothing to so much scrutiny I didn't know what to do. I've gotten to meet and talk to wonderful people because of it, but I've also been subject to some pretty awful hate because of it too. and it never stopped. it just kept getting worse. there was a lot of pressure to deliver consistently and constantly and I felt like no matter what I wrote, I was never appeasing someone. there was always someone who didn't like it and wasn't afraid to tell me so.

ultimately i became resentful because if i never wrote same mistakes, then my blog never would've blown up and i'd never have gotten so much hate. i'd still be writing for me and not judging everything i write before it gets out onto the page. i try to remind myself that i never would've met so many amazing people but that stopped being enough after a little while. when I saw others writing amazing things and get the responses they absolutely deserved while I was being tagged in specific posts for writing things that had overused tropes, I started to wonder what I was doing wrong that I couldn't seem to appease anyone. why it wasn't good enough.

i sort of thought that if i took a step back and focused on other projects, like storm warning and flight risk, things would figure themselves out and the hate would die down and I could come back to same mistakes-verse. uhm, things didn't calm down. the hate didn't stop, as people started taking shots at these other projects (specifically flight risk) and my lack of faith in my writing started extending into my academics.

i've always been pretty proud of my academic writing, and as a historian, it's all I have. but when everyone online is telling you it's shit, and has been telling you that since June, it's hard not to view that for all of your writing. i already feel insecure in my field because I'm still new and honestly this was the last thing I needed.

so i decided to take a step back from all creative writing because it stopped being fun and it stopped being for me and I started hating everything I wrote because I knew no one would like it anyways. i hope it starts being fun again because I miss it and I want to come back to Rebel and Sunshine and Cowgirl and Carolina and all the characters that I love deeply but I don't know when or if that will happen.

[keefwho]

October 30 - 2023 Monday

3:06pm

Still thinking about what I want to do with myself to start changing something. I think constantly trying to express myself is a good first direction. Its just barely started helping me get a grip on who I am and made me feel a little free like I used to. First and foremost anything I feel is valid and my wants are appropriate, until I determine they aren't. I guess I'm trying to take a sort of "innocent until proven guilty" kind of approach with myself because I'm too used to shooting myself down right away. This is a sort of extreme opposite response.

Its hard to know when to act on something. I can't constantly keep trying to figure things out because it gets tiring and inefficient. Maybe it's every time I feel stressed/sorrowful which is unfortunately very often because I feel like my problems go deep. Maybe every time I feel like writing or talking about it means I can do something to address my current state. I know I want to do acting more than talking, I've fallen into the talking trap. I know I used Daisy to feel better under the guise that a "talk" will help but it usually doesn't. The occasional emotional support is healthy but I've caught myself wanting to talk basically all the time like she's my therapist. It's not fair to her and not effective for me so I will be cognizant of that moving forward. That being said, there are some things I think I do want to talk with her about as long as I can confirm to myself that it is actually needed and I'm not just overcommunicating. I intend to do this right because I care about whatever is going on between us. Dare I say it's one of my top 3 priorities.

I feel afraid to admit that sometimes because I'm reminded of a previous dynamic where the other party was so interested in me but I wasn't reciprocating in the way they wanted. In my case it made me distance from them even more because I got more and more uncomfortable. But I sorta led them on because I didn't want to let them down and at the same time I was convincing myself that I wanted to be there. But I didn't. So I have unfounded fears that I am that same position but I'm the one caring too much and pushing her away. It's the only experience I have which kinda sucks.

8:17pm

Another evening spent feeling a little forgotten. I don't have any reason to on the surface and I know that. But I feel like this a lot and that's okay. As long as I come to terms with it I can figure out how I want to proceed. I'm just so tired of every day being a fight. Its like nothing can be good. Even if things are, I assume they aren't going to last and catastrophe is just around the corner. I so rarely feel okay anymore.

10:46pm

I don't really wanna talk about my day right now but I'll at least summarize. I have lots of weird feelings right now and way too much on my mind.

Breakfast was a jimmy dean sandwich and rice. I had to go to the store to pick up some water and soda and my weekend drinks but they were out of water. Mom was supposed to pick some up for me when they got more in today but she must have forgot. I'll live as long as I get it tomorrow. Stream went well. I remember doing Inktober well and the commission. I ran out of things to work on though because I needed responses from people but I worked the rayman meme thing I had with Daisy's horse.

Afterwards I did my workout well, I was a monster on the treadmill. Also cleaned up just a bit before showering again. I took care of myself while I was at it which made me late to lunch. Lunch was some more homemade soup I've been making lately. Its a really good meal, especially after a workout. Since there was no way to stick to my usual schedule, I made sure to revise it and stick to the new times all day. I got the request done quickly and finished that rayman pic before moving onto a drawing of Zipp I had on my desktop. Afterwards I played some Cities, some dungeons, and watched Twitch kinda on and off. I took care of myself again because I was stressed out I guess and wanted a distraction. Daisy called at bedtime and we chatted just a little bit before she fell asleep.

I think I want to make this blog only about recounting what happened on a given day and I might make a new one for my deepest darkest feelings. If I do that it might be on a different website and totally anonymous. I should probably just have a physical journal to write in or a notepad file or something but I do want them to be maybe potentially witnessed by strangers. I just want to be seen in a way. But since I'll be dumping some pretty heavy and specific stuff it's gotta stay extra secret.

[bunny-lou]

So far, you’ve been the only person I’ve seen who has actually captured The Grabber’s whole character. And who he is and what he is and does. Without straying from any of it. While personally not a fan of reading such things, as I’m sure others would agree. I’m beyond impressed with how creepy you made it without being afraid to go where you had to. And I’m very happy to see someone not only not write some weird obsessed fic but actually take the characters for what they were and intended to be.

Warnings for a discussion of a film called The Black Phone, which deals with a young boy being abducted and abused by a much older man.

I was soooo nervous about posting this, so thank you for reaching out to me. I've had a very difficult relationship with writing lately and I'm trying to grasp on to anything that sparks a desire to flesh out a story and characters.

I found the Grabber fascinating as we never get clarification on why he does what he does. There are scenes that point to it being sexual perversion (he is partially undressed as he waits with a belt at the top of the stairs, his line of "I'll never do anything that you don't like"), but it's never confirmed (he never tries anything with Finney, none of the past victims mention anything sexual, the police never go that angle).

I've seen a theory floating around that the Grabber envies childhood innocence and wants to capture it and preserve it in his basement. Theories of him being abused or having a rough childhood that create this desire to reclaim an innocence that was taken from him.

I think his motive is a little bit of both. The Grabber is creepy and an abuser and he's obsessive with Finney (watching him sleep, wanting Finney to tell him his name) and that's the route I wanted to take. The Grabber wants a reason to punish Finney (evident in the game Naughty Boy) but also says Finney is special and he wants Finney to want the things he does. At the same time, I saw Finney as needing to do whatever he needed to survive so that Robin's death was not in vain - Finney won't be killed the way his friend and all those other boys were. Finney will survive, even if that means he won't get to live.

This dark and heavy material is not for everyone, which is why I put a lot of warnings in that post and on here. Everyone should be safe in their fandom and know full well what a fic is before they consent to reading it.

Thank you very much for reaching out and enjoying it. I was so nervous to post this because of my own hiatus from writing lately, but also the dark themes. It means a lot that you took the time to read and say something!

If anyone is interested in reading my little (unedited) piece, check it out here and please heed the warnings.