#sorry for treating the internet like my personal journal but that is what it is to me

[granitxhka]

I love Martin so much he is green like nature I need him to live and breathe green like the trees the way he gives life to this football club green like a breath of fresh air and the smell of freshly cut grass and mint gum I rely on him the way I rely on a tree for shade in the summer I love him the way I love my friend’s green eyes and the little plants on the windowsill of my bedroom I love him

[binalakai]

hey im kai! you can also call me roach, if you already know a kai in your life because i know how many noncis mfs are named that

im a genderfluid filipino dyke (born 2002, figure it out) with she/he/it pronouns, i occasionally post my art on @binalakarchive , where all my OCs (at least as much as i show publicly) and fandom art/cleaned up discussions go there. i also do commissions sometimes, best to contact me through that blog!! my current OC blog currently resides at @huemanonearth, it's a project i've had for a while and i hope to one day make a personal-use pitch bible with it! i treat this blog like a neverending journal. i've grown up with it, and on god am i going to use it as such.

in a perfect world where i wouldn't need to establish boundaries, i would not even bother with a post like this, but the more people i follow/that follow me come across it's somewhat necessary soooo

DNI or like. BYF if you're not gonna listen to me anyway: (warning: it's long and text heavy. tldr; don't be weird to me, communicate with me like you would with a real life person because that's what i am, and we'll get along fine)

-basic dni huge bigot (racist, TERF/transphobic, homophobic, etc etc) stuff but if i catch that onto your blog anyway when you follow me i'll block you.

-if you post a lot of doomer stuff/are against mental health care in general, you best keep distance, honestly. its taken a long time for me to not open my wounds and delusions constantly towards the internet if it meant being valid in my mental illnesses. i'd rather not enter that era again.

-i dont get the whole "proship and antis" culture that happens, but for both sakes of people, if you identify with any of those things you might not like my blog too much. i love being critical and analytical of "problematic things", but i'll still discuss them openly n freely. dni if you'll be offended if i diss on ships/approaches to subjects that make me uncomfortable n find comfort in being critical abt it, and dni if you'll be offended if i diss on the idea that media with triggering topics should not have an outlet period.

-if you'll be offended if i block you out of the blue, doesn't apply to close friends/mutuals i just mean with randos who post takes i dont like or cause too much stress in tags i browse.

-if you're gonna get in huge trouble over seeing dirty jokes and crass humor in public you best not follow me. i try best to tag my stuff, but last thing i wanna do is have a stern talk about it.....which is why i also am wary about people under 18 following and will be a lot more liberal on blocking younger minors for their sake or people i assume won't vibe with me period

-if your parents have access to your social media and there's a chance i'll be DM'd by any of them. i dont wanna talk to any of your parents. if you have an issue with me, i'm more than happy to talk about things directly. (ESPECIALLY FOR BUSINESS RELATED REASONS LIKE COMMISSIONS. IT'S HAPPENED A LOT ALREADY DUE TO OTHER PARTY'S FAMILY CIRCUMSTANCES I CANNOT FUCKING CONTROL. STOP IT. ITS ANNOYING AND A PAIN TO HANDLE.)

-if you get too involved with online drama/disputes. i'm not going to reblog a callout for you. if you get even slightly bothered by that statement, do not get close to me period for the sake of boosting callouts.

-if you have specific niche triggers that need to be tagged. i try to do catch alls or basic ones, but i genuinely CANNOT keep track of all my mutual's blacklists. my mind will slip and id rather not put someone in danger/i wanna keep that risk very very low

okay thankies <3 sorry these are so specific, i just wanna be insane on the internet in the safest way possible

[wren-writes-things]

For the ask game:

🐰 What do you think says the most about a person?

🙃 What’s a weird fact that you know?

🦋 Describe yourself in three words.

🌴 Desert island item?

🎤 Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?

sorry to bother you, you don't have to answer

Ooh! I am very interested in this actually so don’t worry about asking at all.

🐰 Probably how they treat animals, specifically wild ones since it runs into that area where there isn’t necessarily a societal expectation to act in any certain way.

🙃 So there is the breed of chickens known as the White faced Black Spanish, nicknamed the clown faced chicken, and it’s theorized that they might have influenced Salvador Dali’s paintings. They were also one of the smartest chickens I’ve ever owned aside from the Sumatra.

(Left photo taken from the internet because I never had a rooster of the breed. Right one is a hen I used to own though.)

🦋 Inquisitive, distractible, creative

🌴 If I take Marcy’s journal would it seem like I have a problem?

🎤 Honestly most songs I’ve listened to. I sing a lot while listening to music to calm myself (honestly it’s probably a vocal stim at this point). So I have the lyrics pretty well stored. Off the top of my head though? Marcy’s theme song takeover, King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men, Stayed Gone from Hazbin Hotel, the extended version of the Phineas and Ferb intro, Better by Cavetown (actually I know most of his songs), and The Archer by Taylor Swift (though my roommate was just singing that one so its fresh in the brain). Plus any song on my Marcy playlist.

[spaceorphan18]

I was wondering how you felt about the centralization of fandom. I feel like now, I'm so used to hop on AO3 that as soon as I'm looking for something I might not find there, like meta, theories or simply fics for an older (related to AO3) fandom like Glee, I don't have a clue anymore where to look for them. I never used LiveJournal so I don't have the habit of checking it out. FFNET feels obsolete after spending so much time on AO3, and as for Tumblr... the search function is a mess (and I dislike the fact that so many people post fanfics directly in text posts, of course they do what they want but it's frustrating to search for like analysis or simple thoughts and only find docs).

Fanlore is often lacking (although I worked myself on filling some stuff a few times).

I was used to HP being my main fandom: it had its own very charming fan websites with tons of content that often still exist, but are different somehow.

So I guess my question is actually several questions:

- what do you think of fandom being generally more centralized nowadays

- where do you go if you seek stuff like writeups (AO3 allows them but doesn't feature so much of them, but I know the Glee fandom was THRIVING and full of stuff,I guess the waves of mass post deletions are part of the issue)?

- finally, how are you? 🤗 I'm always happy to see your posts on my dash even if my Glee hyperfixation has come and gone

Sorry, it may be a confusing post 😂 Too much stuff going on

Hmm - I guess I wonder what you mean by more centralized? Like that we find everything in one place? Do we find everything in one placed? I guess I'm a little confused (but I often am)

What do you mean by write ups? Do you mean things like meta and analysis? I just want to make sure I'm understanding correctly.

If I'm being honest, my relationship with media has changed and I'm not necessarily seeking out fandoms to engage with. (This is not a denouncement of fandom at all! Just that I'm busier and how I interact with things just is different now) I haven't hyperfixed on anything since Glee - and I'm okay with that.

I don't really know where people can go /now/ to dig into fandoms. I think Discord is one of the places - but you almost have to be engaged already and invited into one. I don't know where people are putting their thoughts and feelings these days.

For me - I listen to a lot of podcasts now (as well as YouTube) where I can hear people's takes on such things, but I can't necessarily engage with it (I mean, I suppose commenting is a thing but it's not my thing) and that seems to fulfill a lot of my desire to hear someone else's thoughts.

And, I mean, I've made a group of good friends on Tumblr that if I want a more personalized discussion on something I'll hit one of them up and spark a convo. (Of course I have people not on the internet with whom I do that, too.)

But I can see where it can be hard for someone who is just starting out on their fandom journey to find a place where they can really dig in with others. Tumblr would be nicer if it was more organized and if tagging did actually work.

And, you know, I kinda treat Tumblr like a journal - and just create my own content. I'm not necessarily writing for all of you, but to sort things out in my own mind. Having people read and enjoy my thoughts is just an added bonus. ;)

I'm not sure if I've answered or addressed all of your thoughts - but hopefully, some of that makes sense?

In the mean time, I am doing well. I'm in a better place personally, which is nice, because then I can get back to all the fun projects I enjoyed before the year of my mental health crisis. Hope you are well yourself! <3

[hazyaltcare]

hi there! fictive of jerome valeska from gotham here. could ya please do some positivity for me? it’s unfortunate that i must admit this, but even in this… life? body? i dunno… but either way, i still sometimes get the thoughts of doing the same shitty things i used to do in canon (eg. hurting people). it’s not in my nature to do that anymore, but it’s incredibly hard to fight those thoughts and whatnot. i hate myself for it, and for the havoc i wreak on my head mates; all i do is cause trouble amongst them. sorry aboutha ramble. anywho, some positivity please? thanks. - @fortheloveofsyskind

Hello, and thank you for reaching out. I'll try my best.

I'm proud of you for admitting it. It's not mandatory to do publicly, but since you did, I want to say: I hear you. Acknowledging your intrusive thoughts and violent impulses is difficult, especially in the current internet/fictive community climate. So I want you to know that I appreciate you, and you know what? I can 100% relate.

I don't judge you for struggling to fight your thoughts. Your intrusive thoughts alone does not make you a bad or hurtful person. It's normal to take time to adapt after switching worlds and bodies, even if your nature has changed (and that is wonderful! I am proud of you for acknowledging that you have grown. You have changed for the better. But please try to be patient with yourself. Change takes a long time, and there's no shortcuts, because change needs to be practiced. It's tedious, and awful, but I believe you can do it. You deserve to take your time. You deserve kindness, including from yourself. You shouldn't have to, you don't have to rush it.)

I can understand hating yourself for those thoughts and desires and what you did to your headmates, though. First, I want you to know that intrusive thoughts alone does not make you a problem to your system. I think one's system should have compassion to systemmates like you and me. Give a safe space to express those thoughts without judgment, and without acting it out. Like in a private channel on discord, physical/digital journal, password-locked blog, or even fanfiction or original writing.

But if you have indeed hurt your headmates because you succumbed to those thoughts, that also does not make you a problem... your behavior may be a problem, but it's not inherently you. You're not doomed to cause trouble all the time. I believe in your capacity for treating others kindly.

.

A little advice, feel free to ignore:

Hating yourself can feel like a deserved punishment, but often, it's counterproductive to change. Because change is a process, a slow one - like raising a plant, you don't yank it just because it doesn't grow fast enough, right? So I feel like it's not very wise to beat yourself up because you're not changing fast enough. I think you deserve better than that. Gentleness for oneself is difficult - I struggle with it too, so so much - but we can try. And knowing you're on the same journey as me encourages me. You're not alone. You have your system, too.

Advice end.

.

Also, regardless of what point you are in your personal improvement, I want you to know that you always have inherent worth. You're always worthy of respect, care, and compassion, even if you're not constantly recovering, even if you're angry and spiraling, even if you make mistakes and have hurt others. If you've hurt others in your system, you can fix your mistakes. There's still time. I hope your system will extend understanding to you as well.

Take care,

Mod Vintage (🍇)

[shellyswirlz]

I saw your post on anti-shroomy and anger. I don't know you much, I never will, but if you care to listen or something, I can give you some words on my part. Ignore these if you want, if anything I say angers you in any way I'm so so sorry in advance and I apologize.

People say that anger is always controllable. That's not how everyone works. People can't really separate one image of you from another. By what I'm told, I feel like some people just treat you like a walking time bomb then an actual person. But, your anger is not inherently a bad thing. It's a part of you that's angry at the world because that's the part that loves you the most, it knows that it wasn't fair enough to you or to anyone else. It wants the treatment you deserve to have. You lash out at people you consider 'bad', like family or the internet strangers you said before. I know I shouldn't be making comparisons of this sort, but it sounds to me that these people in your life are your 'demons'. I don't have background knowledge, but sometimes people get mad at their family for a lot of things. You just don't see it as often because family is harder to get angry at. To lash out at, because they've been with you your whole life. I get that you want it to stop. You don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, either. I'd suggest therapy, but that record is broken again and again, so I'm going to suggest alternatives.

try keeping an 'anger journal'. Write what makes you angry in a situation. Write and vent in it, draw, rip it, I don't care. After you've finished the journal, you could burn it. Burn it and watch your anger burn away, in a sense.

Or sometimes you just need to fuck shit up. Something to yell and cry at. It's not socially acceptable, but you need to do it sometimes because everyone experiences their emotions differently.

Again, im sorry If i offended you in any way.

Nono it's ok I understand! You didn't offend me at all... It just feels so uncontrollable to me personally 'cause when I'm angry I'm throwing things around or hitting people even though I really don't actually wanna hurt people.. My nasty behavior just.., doesn't feel like me cause my friends and family know me as this happy cheerful person, but when I lash out it feels like a sudden explosion went on in the house.

My mom is usually saying how she knows I don't mean it and she tries her best to separate my anger from my optimism. She tries her best to help. But I know that my anger is still apart of me because it's an emotion everyone has... 😭

I get what you mean completely. Whenever I'm angry I'm usually playing Fortnite or typing long paragraphs in google docs or in vent/rant channels on Discord so the people I'm mad at can't see. But at the moment after the person made me angry I start to lash out cause I want them to hear my opinion on what I think about them. It feels like I'm unable to stay calm when people insult me or do things I don't like.. And it became a real bad problem.

I might try your therapy suggestion to see if that works...

[x3rrorx]

sorry for the long sheet but i simply hate when some individuals on their titter accounts raise the topic of how “gross” fanfiction is. they literally make a gag of themselves and it seems they never joined any other fandoms or fan communities before which is odd especially taking into account that fan fiction has been around a little longer than the internet, though the internet definitely gave it a boost in popularity.

also there is one thing: people, who feel irritated by fanfiction about their fav band or their tl also going crazy about *the band*, are another subspecies of obsessive fans who wish they could gatekeep their favourite musicians or tv-shows or media content but if everyone is into it - they feel robbed and left out. they also might feel they are not special anymore, they're just like anybody else. this is pretty captivating, imo, and that says a lot about them too.

what do you think of it?

a piece of advice for this kind of fans is to find some other more important stuff to pay attention to.

i know how tempting it is to vent about your problems with smn/smth, but maybe you should keep quiet about some things or at least you can treat yourself to a new journal and cute stationary. stop making a mess for everyone to see. your tweets may pop up on anyone's tl without any warning and no need to complain how it's no fair if someone's blocked your piteous ass titter.

like, look at our standom, those bo fans who are kept calling out just for having celebrity crushes. this is so pointless. mute, block, forget if you don't like it.

why is it such a big deal?

we are just typical fans. we are not a threat. (there can be only 2 totally deranged toxic fans out of 10 and i think we all can deal with it.)

let people live and admire their crushes. there is no harm in doing that unless they are a bunch of annoying stalkers who pretend to be fans & do their best to draw all attention to themselves by talking bs about bo (even the bo camp) and the fandom in order to stay fucking visible. seriously, those ppl must leave their weak old tea and their dull assumptions to themselves. none of this stuff is an issue nowadays. they need to stop living in the past. some bo fans also should focus on a positive side of this fandom.

Personally, I don’t read it. I don’t like it. I’ve tried and I just feel uncomfortable. It’s not for me. It gives me the ick 99% of the time. I’m fine with the ones that aren’t solely based on fucking and actually have a plot with maybe added sexy time to it. But when the whole story is the characters getting it on… just weird in my opinion. There’s fanfics and then there’s the pornfics. Im not into it.

[earlgreytea68]

I keep thinking about fanfics and what they mean to a lot of people, and after reading your added thoughts and replies I wanted to mention a few things, that in my opinion make this genre even better. As you said, fic deals with a ton of emotional baggage and the thing is, that the “real/big” literature not only refuses to interact with it and treat us with this function, it plainly refuses to see and acknowledge some of the “bags”, even nowadays, do you know what I mean? Like there’s a ton of topics that weren’t discussed and represented in the world lit, and if they were, it was only in a specific light and with a very predictable ending. I’m talking about such subjects as - sexuality, gender, race and racism, mental health and a lot of others. Like this things were so stigmatised, and places, where people could discuss and process them were so few, that naturally people developed a space, a thing, an outlet for all of it to come out. And when the internet became a thing, it only got easier to do it, to create, and share and grow. How many fic archives or blogs, or journals existed and exist till this day? Some of them gone, but new ones arrived at their place. I’m along with you hope, that it continues to work that way, to grow, to inspire new folks. Fandoms, communities, fanfics all of it is really important to a lot of us, it brings us joy and comfort, it helps us understand the ever changing world so much better, it educates us, it brings us hope. I’m sorry for a ramble. And thank you so much for your posts, Egt, they’re all very good and important ☺️

Thank you so much for adding to this, because YES, THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT. Many, many subjects do not get discussed, seriously and in-depth, by a lot of the stuff considered ~~literature. And I don't mean as, like, an after-school special, but just as like, "Here is a story about a person who looks/acts/feels like this." We have missed a lot of that through history because the people whose stories were being told to us all looked/acted/felt the same. So we needed to develop spaces to tell different stories.

Fandom is not perfect and has a lot of work to do especially on issues of race and gender, but also it exists as a place with voices, and I hope that it provides a place for more and more and more voices, because people need to create to make sense of themselves and the rest of the world and it can't all happen by listening to other people make sense of *their* selves.

I mean, it would also be nice if we heard more voices in other places, too, and hopefully that's beginning to happen, but the point is: we need lots of different places for lots of different voices to tell lots of different stories.

[charincharge]

I Don’t Want To Wait, four

rowaelin high school bff au  masterlist

The night Rowan spent snoring next to Aelin was the best night of sleep she’d ever had. After they woke in a tangle of arms and legs, sandwiched together, Aelin wrote an entire page in her journal about the amount of touching they did. She was incredibly upset that she was unconscious for most of it.

She was grateful for their all-nighter though, because in the week that followed, she’d barely seen him. He’d been at the mercy of Lacrosse practices, every morning and evening, doing drills and scrimmages until he could barely walk. She was especially annoyed because with morning practices, it cut into her special Rowan driving her to school time. Because there was no way she was waking up in time to drive him to the field in the morning.

However, today was finally the Lacrosse championship game, which meant that tonight, Aelin would get her best friend back.

She couldn’t wait.

Aelin had spent all last night making a Rowan’s Pump Up Playlist, to help him get into the zone today. He’d briefly mentioned that the cheerleaders were each assigned a varsity player to bake treats for, and Aelin refused to be outshined by some random cheerleader.

Aelin flipped through the playlist one last time. It was good. 47 songs in honor of the number on his, each one an empowering anthem or a self-assured ego boost. Plus, Aelin may have sneakily included songs that insinuated how she felt about him. She only hoped he would read between the lines.

She took her time dressing in green and gold, the school’s colors, and Aelin felt ready for game day. But she suddenly did not feel like waiting around for Rowan to come pick her up today. She wanted to see his face now.

So, in a last minute decision, Aelin rushed out to get them both coffees and headed to the small condo Rowan lived in with his Aunt Maeve. Black, no sugar or milk for Rowan. Hazelnut syrup and extra creamer for Aelin. She placed the hot beverage holder into her bike basket and took off.

Aunt Maeve was just heading out as Aelin pulled the coffees from her basket. Maeve greeted her with a large hug and a wide smile.

“You’re up early, hon,” she laughed, but Aelin smiled through her self-consciousness. She wasn’t really a morning person, but today was important to Rowan. And she wanted to be the best best friend she could be.

“Is he still out on his run?” Aelin asked, and Maeve shook her head, biting her lip conspiratorially.

“He actually didn’t run this morning.”

Aelin gasped an overexaggerated intake of air. She couldn’t fathom Rowan not running every single morning of his life. “No run?!”

Maeve laughed again. “Nope. He wanted to rest up before the big game. Poor thing looked exhausted last night. In fact, last I checked he was still sleeping.”

Aelin looked at her watch. 7:15. Most mornings Rowan was up at 5. If he was actually still asleep, Aelin would never stop mocking him for it. Plus, as she rediscovered the other morning, she really enjoyed a sleepy Rowan.

“Go ahead and wake him,” Meave said, but Aelin hadn’t waited to her approval to make her way into the condo. She made her way up the narrow stairs, coffee in each hand, and headed down the hall to the bedroom she knew so well.

Aelin fiddled with the old handle and pushed it open. The heavy door cracked open slowly, falling against Aelin’s body, so she had to slowly shove it with her hip.

One foot, one shoulder and half her face into Rowan’s bedroom, Aelin completely froze. Deer in headlights. Struck down where she stood.

Because Rowan was not asleep, as his Aunt had thought. Rowan was very much awake. Though his eyes remained closed, Aelin’s gaze fell to about halfway down the covers, where there was a lot of movement going on. She watched for a solid second, jaw unhinged, as Rowan’s hand moved up and down beneath his dark sheets, making a peaked shape with each vigorous movement.

Aelin gasped and blinked rapidly, realizing that she should exit the room immediately, but her gasp was too loud.

Rowan’s eyes flew open and landed on her, standing in his doorway, staring, and she watched as Rowan’s cheeks flooded with red.

“AELIN!” he squawked. “WHAT THE FUCK?” Flustered, she watched as Rowan grasped at his comforter, halting his movements to pull up the dark sheets to his chin, so nothing but this face was peeking out. “CLOSE THE DOOR!” Despite the volume, his voice was breathy and strangled, as if he’d just come from his run.

“Oh my gods,” Aelin mumbled, and she knew her cheeks would be redder than Rowan’s if she were to glance in a mirror. “Oh my gods,” she repeated, taking a step back and letting the door slam in her face.

Through the thick wood, she could hear Rowan groan loudly, but it was muffled by sheets. Gods. Aelin knew that Rowan was probably doing that. But to actually see it….? She thought her face might be permanently stained red with how hot she suddenly felt.

Aelin bit her lip, toeing at the beige carpet beneath her sneaker, wondering what the hell she should do now.

“I’m sorry!” she squeaked out.

“AELIN, GO DOWNSTAIRS!” Rowan bellowed loudly from behind the door, and Aelin nodded, despite him being unable to see her face. “I’ll be down… soon,” he said softer.

“Kay,” Aelin replied quickly. “You don’t have to rush, or anything. I can… uh, wait. For you to… finish.”

“Aelin, please…” Rowan sounded pained, and she wondered if it was because of his embarrassment or other things. Nope. She was not going to think about that.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Aelin repeated over and over as she stumbled her way downstairs to the small kitchen table. She slumped over the cheery yellow table and placed her head in her hands, willing her face to cool down. But every time she managed to calm herself, she’d remember the movement beneath Rowan’s sheets and become warm again.

When she heard the shower turn on overhead, Aelin placed her head in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut and willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She sat like that, even after she heard the heavy footfall of Rowan’s shoes coming down the stairs and tread across the kitchen floor.

She heard the sound of a chair scraping across the tile, but Aelin kept her hands over her face, unable to look at him.

Rowan sighed loudly and took a long sip of his coffee.

“Let’s talk it out,” he said, and Aelin finally peeked through her fingers. Rowan was freshly showered, hair still wet, and he was looking up at the ceiling, also unable to look at her.

“No way,” Aelin mumbled.

Rowan tugged at his hair. “Well, if we don’t I’m going to tank this championship game, and it’ll be your fault.”

Aelin groaned as he pulled her hands away from her face. Hands that were definitely just touching… elsewhere. He held her hands in his for a second on the table before pulling away.

“Fine,” Aelin conceded.

“You didn’t actually see anything, right?” he asked, and Aelin shook her head quickly. Rowan released a steady breath, a nervous smile appearing on his face.

“Great,” Rowan continued. “Then, it’s not a big deal at all, and we are totally fine and nothing is weird. I mean, it was weird that you walked in on it, but everyone does it, right?” He brought his coffee to his mouth and took a long sip, clearly needing to do something to stop his rambling.

“Uh, I’ve never but… yeah, I guess.”

Rowan stopped mid-sip and stared at her, looking as if she’d just told him the most insane fact ever. “You haven’t?”

Aelin shrugged, feeling her cheeks heat again. “I don’t think I know how?”

Rowan inhaled sharply, choking on his coffee, coughing loudly. Aelin buried her face into her hands again. Could this morning get any more awkward?

“You know, there’s definitely, uh, videos on the internet that could help with that.” He paused, his nervous smile expanding as he laughed at his best friend’s horrified face. “I could send you a few if you want.”

“Rowan Whitethorn, you are not allowed to send me porn,” Aelin hissed. Rowan burst out laughing as he poked her cheek.

“I didn’t know your face could get this red, Ace.”

“Yeah, well, we’re learning a lot about each other this morning I guess...”

Rowan snorted loudly  as Aelin grabbed her coffee and stalked toward the front door, away from his mocking. She’d walked in on him but somehow, she was the one who was too embarrassed to function today?

“You know, I stayed up all last night making you a Game Day Playlist, but if you’re going to be mean, I’m not sharing it with you,” she said, and Rowan immediately backtracked, his face lighting up with excitement as he slung his arm over her shoulders.

“You did?”

Aelin nodded, pulling out her phone to show him the playlist. “I was just about to hit share, but maybe I won’t….”

He pouted, his green eyes widening. “I promise I’ll be nice.” He paused. “But also, you should ask Lysandra to teach you. I can’t imagine functioning without doing it every morning.”

Aelin had to bite her tongue from squeaking out EVERY MORNING?! But she just didn’t want to continue having this conversation, despite how badly she wanted to ask Rowan what he thought about every morning while touching himself. There were some questions she just couldn’t ask him, despite how close they were or how curious she suddenly was.

Instead, she hopped into his jeep and sent him the playlist. He connected his phone to his car with a grin and turned up the mix.

“47 songs?” His crooked smile made her stomach flutter, and he laughed as he pressed play and cranked the volume up. “Taylor Swift?”  Rowan scoffed.  “Really?”

“She’s the greatest songwriter of our time,” Aelin replied, sticking her tongue out.

“Maybe, but this fake rap shit is not it,” he laughed, scrolling to the next song. “Ah, much better.”

The first chords of Kanye’s “Power” filled the car, and Rowan took off.

By the time the pair made it to school, their morning awkwardness had completely melted away. And Rowan was in the zone for his game.

He was immediately bombarded by his assigned cheerleader, who, as Aelin had predicted, had baked him cookies. Aelin didn’t recognize the girl – a brown-eyed brunette, who looked every bit the male fantasy in her skin baring cheerleading uniform, her hair pulled up into a curled ponytail and her face displaying the number 47 on each cheek, batting her her curled lashes at her best friend. Aelin wondered for a brief moment what kind of porn Rowan had delved into, if this girl was actually one of his fantasies, but she immediately pushed that aside.

Aelin watched as Rowan smiled, thanking the girl kindly for his baked goods. And she pretended not to notice his eyes linger slightly at the green and gold ORYNTH printed across her chest. Or the way they fell to the short hem of her skirt as she walked away, throwing him one last smile over her bared shoulder.

Aelin looked at her own game day outfit – jeans and a t-shirt, and suddenly felt self-conscious, which she hated. Aelin never felt like this before. She’d never been the type of girl who suddenly compared herself to other girls, but … other girls had never smiled at Rowan like that, either. She suddenly felt a level of possessiveness rush through her. She linked her arm through Rowan’s, who looked surprised, but didn’t object to her closeness.

“Do you want my cookies?” Rowan asked, offering the plastic covered plate to Aelin, and Aelin accepted it greedily. “I think sugar might make me ill today,” he laughed.

“You’re going to be great,” Aelin assured him, knocking her hip against him.

“I hope so,” he mumbled quietly. She knew that Rowan was nervous about the game, but she hadn’t realized how much. As one of two sophomores on the Varsity team, she assumed he’d be seeing mostly bench time, but apparently that didn’t stop his nerves from taking over.

“You’ve worked so hard this season,” Aelin told her best friend and watched as his chest puffed out, swelling with pride. “No matter what happens, you’re gonna crush it. I know.”

“Thanks,” he replied softly.

“See you on the field,” Aelin said, as he dropped her off at her first class of the day. Double period algebra, ugh.

“I’ll be the one with the big stick in my hand,” Rowan replied with a smile, and Aelin snickered loudly.

“Been there, seen that,” she laughed, and Rowan’s jaw dropped.

“You said you didn’t see anything!” he hissed, and Aelin cackled and winked, and she watched as he realized what she was doing.

“You’re trying to distract me,” he laughed.

“Is it working?” she asked, and he smirked back.

He flicked her off as he shoved his earbuds into his ears, walking away to the rhythm of one of the songs on her playlist.

~*~

If you want to listen to Rowan’s Game Day playlist, check it out HERE

If you want to be added to be general TOG taglist, message me HERE

tag list:

@df3ndyr

@hizqueen4life

@maastrash

@justgiu12

@aknymph

@bamchickawowow

@thewayshedreamed

@strangeenemy

@studyliketate

@iammissstark

@heirofthenightcourt

@acourtofmarauders

@cmoff1

@stardelia

@b00kworm

@wordsafterhours

@m-like-magic 

@the-third-me

@cursebreaker29

@anniejulianneh111

@queen-of-glass

@aesthetics-11

@xhopelessdreamer

@babycardan

@ilyrian-velaris

@galyxsy

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

@rolltide7

@keshavomit

@cool-ish-nerd

@althelkingshorses

@westofmoon

@sanakapoor

@louiseleblancdiggory

@lizzziebear 

@viajandosinalas

@morganofthewildfire

@abookishfreak

@tottenhamboys20

@januarystears

@myfireheart-rowaelin

@jesstargaryenqueen

@empress-ofbloodshed

@faerie-queen-fireheart

[weirdcultstuff]

Long time follower, just really shy... Trigger warning, vague description of cult-adjacent abuses? Nothing really specific just... Having a hard time feeling confident in how to label these experiences, and you're the first person I've seen describe things similar to what I went through.

My family worked in an almost identical way to how you describe your experiences on this blog. I can check off probably 85% of the BITE model boxes with how I was treated. Isolation, manipulation via the control of information and behavior, as well as physical abuse. every time I made a mistake it turned into a three or four hour screaming-session-turned-sermon once my father calmed down enough to quote the Bible to me. Punishments of writing and re-writing verses about respect. But it was just my family. We didn't even attend an actual church most of the time, some years literally just Easter Sunday. But it was always about God and how he followed God and his wife followed him and the kids were supposed to follow in turn. I was the youngest so I didn't ever take care of younger kids but I did do most of the cooking and cleaning, with more cleaning and labor projects during all the daylight hours as punishment too. I went to public school but I wasn't allowed to do extracurriculars, couldn't make less than A's in all advanced level classes, couldn't be friends with boys, I went to (female only) friends houses few enough times to count on both hands from age 10 to almost 17, the whole time I lived there. Then they started to realize I was gay, and I couldn't have any friends at all. They went through my things and read every private thought, writing, drawing, journal entry. I was punished for any sins I ever wrote about. Since I had no social life or even internet access that wasn't closely monitored they eventually took away every last hobby, I couldn't even read.

I feel like I grew up in a cult. I know i was the third or greater generation of abuse in the family. But the lack of a larger leading group makes these experiences so confusing to try and label.

What makes a cult, a cult?

Can just a family of four become a cult, under the iron fist of an abusive man?

I'm genuinely sorry if this is inappropriate, I left out all the worst details. You just seem knowledgeable about the subject as well as being a survivor.

Thank you for your time, I hope today is a good day for you, full of light and life and love ❤️

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Tumblr returned your ask from the void! Not sure what happened. I posted my response a few posts ago. Much love, anon. You are not alone! I wish you light and life and love today too 🫂

[bbizzy]

Saw your post about how you were basing your friendships/career/love life/fashion etc around other people and the doin better post too about finding you and your values. I really feel like I do that too but I struggle with myself. I don’t know how I want to dress or who I want to be with or anything. I seriously can’t even make decisions about buying new clothes because I don’t know what I like. I struggle with dating because I don’t know what I’m looking for or if I even want to date or just figure myself out for a bit. Anyways do you have any tips on kind of ‘finding yourself’?

I have a LOT to say about this lmaoooo. This is pretty much everything I've been focused on for the past year.

TLDR: it's all just my experiences, but I was careful choosing who I spent my time with & avoided serious dating, got off of the internet, got out of my comfort zone, journaled a TON. I was superrrrrr deliberate about wanting to get to know myself better & build confidence, so pretty much everything I did contributed to that. Pick and choose what you want to take from this, if anything!

I'm so sorry that you're feeling this way. It's super hard to tell who you actually are when it feels like the whole world is giving their input. This is all just my experience, but I hope this helps you!

- Isolation / choosing my people

This was excessive (& super quarantine dependent), but I didn't really talk to anyone who wasn't my parents or my 2 closest friends for a few months. I only really talked to people who I could fully be myself around while I built confidence and explored different things.

Regardless of whether you take it to my extreme, it's a good time to look at the people in your life and decide who you want to hold closely vs. who you need to distance yourself from. The people that you spend your time with make a HUGE difference in how you view yourself and the world.

In terms of dating, deliberately not seriously dating / committing to anyone played a major role in getting to know myself.

Personally, I had been dating someone for 2.5 of my formative years, and I wasn't really able to be myself around him. When I broke up with him, I had a lot to learn! This relationship was honestly the root of my identity issues.

Casual dating was helpful in figuring out what I want/deserve in a relationship & it built my confidence, BUT I was sure to make it clear that I didn't want anything serious, and I purposely didn't have sex with any of these guys.

How you choose to treat dating in this season is your choice, but I will say that I don't think it's a great idea to get into anything serious if you feel like you don't know yourself- that just leaves you open for manipulation.

- Internet free zone

I've been off of mainstream social media for a few years now, but during that period I was also off of tumblr and youtube for a few weeks. My phone was off 90% of the time. To fill my time, I'd go for walks, sit and stare out the window, listen to music on my radio, go for drives, stargaze, cook, and read (fiction!!!) books. Self help books didn't help me much at all at that point because it was just another person telling me who to be. no thanks! there's a lot to learn from fiction & memoirs :)

Personally, reading Cheryl Strayed books pushed me in the right direction- Wild is pretty much a coming of age / finding yourself story. Her other writing (dear sugar!!) heavily centers around being authentic.

- Comfort zone

I tried not to make the other tips prescriptive, but for this one I absolutely will. Get out of your comfort zone & try EVERYTHING! Pick out books/music/movies/recipes that you wouldn't normally choose. If you get invited to a gathering, GO! If you have the opportunity to try something new, especially if it makes you uncomfortable, DO IT! Take yourself on dates & do things alone. Explore your city / go on a solo weekend trip & stay in a cheap airbnb somewhere. DO WHATEVER YOU WANT AND MORE! now is the time!! take the opportunities to grow!

- Journaling

The last thing that helped me was journaling! I wrote everything I was feeling and thinking, all of my goals and dreams, everything. My journal was not a contract, and it didn't have to be pretty. No need to stick to a journaling schedule or anything. It was super helpful in getting to know myself.

[lighthouse-system]

DIDDecember- Day 13

Tips for new systems

I’ll try to stay brief. Failed that.

1. Trauma and bad memories are like pimples. If they hurt, don’t pick at them.

2. Not all thoughts that may not feel like yours are alters. It’s okay; we have intrusive thoughts like everyone else.

3. Setting up boundaries is a very good idea, with both other people and parts in the system.

4. If an alter hurt someone, the entirety of the system is responsible. The action came from the system’s body, and someone was hurt regardless of who was in charge. It’s infinitely better to say “I’m sorry about [action]. I’ll try to not let it happen again” than to say “Oh but that wasn’t me. [alter] was fronting,” when someone tells you your system hurt them. You would be upset if someone did the latter to you, so don’t do the latter to others.

5. At the end of the day, you are all a part of a picture. I don’t want to say you’re a puzzle piece because that insinuates that you aren’t complete or whole. But you’re like your own little mosaic tile with an independent design and everything. And the entirety of your system is the whole display of the tiles. You’re your own tile with your own picture and story, but you’re also a part of the larger picture. It’s a good idea to not forget that.

6. Therapy is going to take a while! Your first therapist is most likely not going to be your last. People tend to spend 7 years in the mental health system before they get diagnosed with DID/OSDD. I don’t mean to put the devil on the wall, but DID systems often get misdiagnosed with BPD, dismissed, or transferred around before getting to a therapist who can diagnose them. For some, they might have to move to another therapist because that professional can’t treat DID/OSDD but can diagnose it. So, what I’m trying to say is... therapy might suck.

7. So last time I suggested some communities but tbh I’d avoid subreddits. I personally don’t interact in Discord groups or Facebook groups except one discord server for systems who are aged 25+. 

Also. It’s ok to:

Not find out you’re a system until you’re way older.

Not have it all figured out immediately.

Realise you aren’t the “original host”.

Still have unknowns about your system. Some questions are gonna be left unanswered.

Not use roles for some or all alters!! Seriously, many parts in the system may not fit the constrictive box that roles like “protector” and “persecutor” give. If a part doesn’t want to be called a caretaker, then don’t push it.

Also here’s some stuff that systems might use that can help you out. Check below the cut.

Antar- An offline app that lets you chat amongst alters and is stored locally on your device. This is great because unlike Simply Plural and Pluralkit, no internet connection is required. It also means you can be assured that no data on your system is being stored elsewhere. However, that means that if you lose your device or uninstall the app, your data is gone. It also has a function called “Let it go” where you send messages and watch them fly away. Helps with anxious thoughts.

Pluralkit- A bot designed for plural communities and users on Discord. What my system does is keep Pluralkit in a private server with channels to catalogue the day, triggers, a “group chat”, “private chats”, etc.

Daylio- My system doesn’t use this but other systems do. It has a mood chart, activity journal, etc. Felt confusing, but others have picked it up so I’d give it a whirl if you’re up to it.

Evernote- You can see other parts’ notes, but every part can have their own notebook.

Simply Plural- Also on Android and iOS. Track switches and alters, let trusted friends be notified of a switch and now they have a chat function built in. You can also run polls with your system and set up reminders that run at a certain time or after a switch.

Lighthouse- Shameless self plug. I made this one lmao. Basically, it lets you make a journal for your alters that can be password protected/not viewed by other alters, and has a spot for a “communal journal” or a place to let everyone write. You can also keep track of your inner world and even set up subsystems.

Mytter- Made by a dev in Japan, so the app is translated (sometimes. There’s still some Japanese you’ll find). Works like Twitter, but for your system to chat. All the perks of social media without the hassle of... All of twitter lol. Works offline. You can remove ads for like $5 which helps the developer.

Mystagram- Same dev for Mytter! Like instagram for your system. Works offline and ads can be removed for $5 (I think the purchase might carry over from Mytter? It’s a one-time purchase which I think is very nice of the developer). They’ve made other system-centric apps like “ ひとり会議” (Hitori kaigi, alone conference) but that one is purely in Japanese.

[todokiis]

Thank you for the tag, moss. <3 @mosssss

I love sharing my every waking thought on the internet. 😌🥴  

1. What do you prefer to be called name-wise?

On here I go by whatever part of my username you prefer. Kiis and Todo seem to be the prevailing winners though.

2. When is your birthday?

April 14. Yes, I’m an Aries baby. Let’s compare charts. <3 💋

3. Where do you live?

Florida, in the good ol’ U.S. of A... a double whammy. Pls help.

4. Three things you are doing right now?

Listening to music on my speaker while I do my makeup and work through my coffee from this morning. I got tired so I’m taking a break before I finish painting my face.

5. Four fandoms that have peaked your interest

Haikyuu!!, HxH, Jujustu Kaisen, and Kimetsu no Yaiba (Demon Slayer)

6. How has the pandemic been treating you?

Everyday is a flip of a coin for my mental stability honestly. I’ve had some pretty low lows but I’ve also really just started to say “fuck it” and step into what makes me happy even if its kinda scary doing things differently and putting myself out there.

7. A song you can’t stop listening to right now?

Sade in the 90′s by Queen Herby. Yes I’m still listening to it.

8. Recommend a movie

A Silent Voice. It made me cry like a baby but the animation is beautiful.

9. How old are you?

23. For the second time. No I will not elaborate.

10. School, university, occupation, other?

Graduated with a BFA in graphic design this May. Waiting to apply to design agencies in Vancouver/Portland because once my bsf finishes her current lease we’re planning to move in together next summer. So kinda just free-lancing and vibing rn.

11. Do you prefer heat or cold?

Cold weather. I fucking hate Florida humidity so I cling to the few weeks of cold weather we get here.

12. Name one fact others may not know about you.

I can make my own books. Like sewing the pages together and binding them and everything. I love making journals and sketchbooks.

13. Are you shy?

Kind of? I think its more so that I’m just naturally quiet and low energy. I thought for the longest time I was an introvert until several friends were like No You Are Not. So I guess I just don't talk much unless I vibe with someone. 

14. Preferred pronouns?

She/Her.

15. Biggest pet peeves?

People who don’t think before they speak. I can’t stand when someone just bluntly says something that can be hurtful without reading the room and like considering the other person’s emotions. I don’t fuck with that shit. At all.

16. What is your favourite “-dere” type?

what like... yandere? tsundere? Hmm.. I vibe with Dandere the most ig.

“The Dandere character is the strong silent type. Quiet and shy, the Dandere is closed off to the world but isn’t always cold to everyone but just prefers to be quiet. When with their love interest the Dandere can break out of their shell and become quite talkative.”

17. Rate your life from 1-10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be.

5 maybe? I’m kind of at a stand still so.. its not ideal rn. 

18. What’s your main blog?

This one right here.

19. list your side blogs and what they’re used for.

I have one that’s just a fucking mess so I don't really advertise it here but its also like not a secret? I just rant on there when I don't wanna clog this blog up. And to post like nature aesthetic shit.

20. Is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends?

... I’m unfortunately a bit of a people pleaser. So I try really hard to make sure others feel comfortable and happy but that also means I struggle with opening up because I don't wanna risk overloading the other person and upsetting them some how. That said, I still love making new friends. 🌸

I’ll tag @icychill @bakuchin @vanillacocacolla @eloquentdreams and @charcoallatte. (Sorry if anyone has already done this! And no pressure, just if you wanna. 💓)

[abreathofthewild]

And They Were Roommates, Chapter 1/?

Summary: After the events of Endgame, the Avengers try to regain a semblance of normalcy.  Steve Rogers decides to move to a small town, get a regular job and a regular room mate...

Word Count: 1832

Warnings: mentions of death.  some language.  some hanky panky (MILD exhibitionism?!??!).  Like neck kissing, hip straddling.  But not between Steve and reader...  yet.  Eventual warnings for possible PTSD and traumatic flashbacks.  Smut.  Oh boy I can’t believe I just wrote that this is going to be a wonderful journal.

Notes: Holy cow I’m actually posting this.  This is my first time posting a fic so please be kind?  I’m also open to constructive criticism though so yeah.  How I’m posting a Steve Rogers fic before a Thor fic is beyond me but I guess ya gotta follow the spark?  This literally is based off a dream so it should be interesting?!  If I can actually finish it?!  I have not seen Endgame (I’m not mentally prepared) but I have a general idea of how it goes and I’m writing things differently.  For reasons.  I hope you all enjoy!​ EDIT: I’m so mad at Tumblr I tried to add a tag through mobile and it DELETED THE WHOLE DANG POST FORMATTING AND ALL so here it is again.

Links: Chapter 2

You groaned as you rolled over and blearily felt around for your phone on the nightstand; the display lit up so bright it made your eyes squint in pain.  As they finally adjusted to the screen and you saw the numbers 2:43, you felt a familiar anger boil up inside you.  That anger spiked when you heard a few thumps and more giggling from the living room.  This was the third time this week Steve had brought some random drunk girl home from the bar where he worked.  He was a popular guy because he was great at what he did, good-looking too you had to admit.  And he was Captain America.  He knew he had these qualities though and he flaunted them.  For most people, his cockiness was a turn on; for you, it was the exact opposite and made most of the time rooming with him a miserable thing.  You rolled over and squeezed your eyes shut, desperately willing sleep to come.  Your mind trailed off to when you first met Steve.  After the defeat of Thanos and the death of so many, Tony in particular, the Avengers had dispersed; they remained in touch but they all had decided to lead normal lives.  As normal as possible anyway.  

Steve Rogers?  Captain America?  He decided to get a regular job at a regular bar in some regular town and move into some regular house.  You knew he hurt.  Who didn’t?  Everyone had lost someone.  You…  You had lost your sister.  She was the one who roomed with you before Steve.  Some of her pictures were still on the mantle along with one of the Avengers together.  You always smiled when you saw those pictures.  The one with your sister was her in the snow, her skin flushed a bright red from the cold, her nose and eyes scrunched up as she laughed.  That memory was so sweet, still fresh as if you had taken the picture yesterday.  She had tripped and fallen face first in the snow.  It was deep so it hadn’t hurt her.  Instead she had flooded the air with her laughter.  The two of you had ended up gasping for breath from hysterics.  The one of the Avengers was similar although the focus of their laughter seemed to be Tony Stark’s frown.  It wasn’t really a frown though, more as if he was trying to keep a smile off his face.  Steve had never told you the story (he never really told you much about that time) but you guessed they were ribbing him for something.  The love for each other was evident though.  Steve seemed to be the most enthusiastic; his head was thrown back, eyes closed.  He was holding his stomach and his golden hair was falling loosely in a wave.  It made you smile every time you looked at those.

“Steeeevveee…”  A whine came from the living room.  Your efforts to go back to sleep were a no-go.  All those girls he brought home were so…  Not Steve.  It made your blood run hot.

“That’s it,” you whispered angrily to no one in particular as you leapt from your bed and stalked down the hall.  The was a furry rug running down the length of the floor; you weren’t exactly trying to move quietly.  Still, you doubted Steve wouldn’t hear you, either way.  At the last minute, something stopped you from rounding the corner.  Really, what right did you have to tell him not to bring girls home?  This was half his house.  You had to be at work in three hours now though, a thought that made you somewhat desperate.  You took a deep breath and slowly padded out into the living area.  

There was Steve, sitting on the couch (the couch you sat on too sometimes for Christ’s sake).  The girl was straddling his lap, her blonde curls loose around her shoulders.  Her mini skirt was hiked up to her hips.  His arms were at her back and he was kissing her neck; her hands were in his hair and she let out a small moan.  You stood frozen in place.

They were completely absorbed in each other, completely oblivious to you standing there gawking.  It was an impressive sight to see Steve in action if you were being completely honest with yourself.  Then he opened his eyes.  You’d looked him in the face before, knew he had pretty blues but this…  This was different.  They were stunning, intense.  And focused on you as the girl he was holding let her head fall back on a sigh.  He didn’t stop, just watched you watching him.  It made the muscles in your stomach clench.  What the hell?  You stood straight, shook your head in an attempt to make the haziness leave your brain and cleared your throat.  She jumped in his arms but didn’t make any move to get off his lap.  She did a half turn to see who was there; you crossed your arms and tapped your foot.

“Look, I don’t wanna be rude and I don’t know if Steve told you but he doesn’t live alone.  And I gotta get up for work in the morning.  I mean, can you guys just be a little quieter, Steve?”  You directed your gaze to him.  He watched you lazily but…  Your cheeks flushed hot when he kept watching you.  Shit…  “That’s all I need…”  You trailed off awkwardly, frustrated with yourself.  He finally looked away and back at her face.

“Gosh, doll, looks like our fun’s over.  Maybe some other time?”  He smirked, squeezing her hips.  He continued smirking as she stared at him in disbelief.

“Look,” she finally said, mirroring your statement with sarcasm, “I don’t wanna be rude but I don’t  know who this bitch thinks she is—”  Your eyes widened when Steve didn’t even let her finish her sentence as he stood up abruptly, letting her fall indignantly to the cushion next to him.

“That bitch,” he said quietly, “pays half the rent.  She’s my roommate.  And I won’t have anyone disrespecting her.”   Now it was her turn to widen her eyes; her mouth gaped open.  Steve stood, imposing, one hand in the pocket of his blue jeans, the other arm extended to the door.  The girl stood quickly and grabbed her bag from the coffee table.  The door slammed as she left.  You crossed your arms and tried to look everywhere but at Steve who still faced away from you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.  “I didn’t mean for that to happen.  I just…  I have to be there at, like, six—”

“It’s fine.”  His shoulders and back flexed; you gulped when he turned around and studied your face.  “She shouldn’t have said that.”  God those blue eyes.  He took a step forward and another when you didn’t back away.  Finally, he grinned.  “I think you made her jealous.  I mean, who wouldn’t be jealous of you?  You get to see America’s ass in person every day.”  You rolled your eyes.  Steve having access to the internet was all at once the worst and best thing.  He was fascinated by memes and when it came to memes of himself… well, he could make you sit for hours showing you memes.  “Play hooky with me tomorrow, let me make up for how she treated you.”  You crossed your arms again and pursed your lips, shook your head.

“No-can-do, Steve.  I’m one of the openers.  I wouldn’t do that on such short notice.”

“I figured as much.  I’ve never seen you call out.  I mean, except that one time you were puking your guts out.”  Steve smirked, you shuddered.

“Ugh, that was awful.  I was so sick!  Thank god you didn’t bring anyone here those nights.”  You returned his smirk as Steve gave you an expression of mock surprise, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“I don’t bring that many girls home, okay?  Besides, I have to drown out the bad memories somewhere.”  There was an uncomfortable moment of silence.  

“Steve—"

“Plus, you were so miserable.  I didn’t want to bother you.  I tried to stay scarce those days.”  He’d crossed his arms again, and you had to force yourself to keep your eyes on his face instead of how good he looked in that worn white t-shirt of his.  His words jarred a memory in you though from the last time you remembered being that sick.

You were fifteen.  Your mom had to work the night shift at the hospital.  She wasn’t particularly caring anyway.  Y/Sister’s name was the one who found you in the bathroom in the middle of the night, laying on the cold tile floor holding your stomach.  She had rubbed your back and held your hair back from your face and made sure you drank little bits of water to wash away the gross aftertaste.  

“Ssshh,” she had whispered.  “It’s all right, you’re okay.”  She had helped you back to bed, tucked you in with a bucket on the floor.  She had stayed there all night, waiting it out with you.  It was the best feeling just knowing someone was there.  She was always there for you, even when no one else was…

Tears sprang unbidden to your eyes and you bit your lip.  Shit.  Shit shit shit.  

“I, uh, I gotta go to bed, okay?  Um, sorry about tonight.  Didn’t mean for it to go that way,” you said again.  That quick he closed the space between you; he was so close you could smell the subtle aroma of his cologne, see the way his eyes searched yours.  He reached up and brushed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even noticed falling.

“Please don’t apologize.  Can I take you out after you get off?”  You looked up at him (you definitely had to look up) and studied his face.  He looked so tired.  His eyes looked sad.  How had you never noticed before?  Maybe it was time you paid attention.  A small nod.

“Yeah,” you whispered, even though you didn’t even know why you had to whisper.  “I get off at 1.  Should I meet you?”  Steve smiled then.  Golden boy.  Apollo.  The sun.

“Nah, I got this.  I’ll pick you up.”  Was he always a gentleman like this?  A quick hitch of your breath as he leaned forward and spoke close to your ear “Good night, Y/N.”  He stood up and slowly brushed passed you heading to the room at the other side of the hall where he saluted you with a grin as he went in and closed his door.  He knew.  He knew the effect he suddenly was having on you and he was loving it.  If you were being honest, you didn’t mind that you were finally acknowledging it.

And now, somehow, you were going to hang out with Steve Rogers tomorrow.  You slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your disbelieving giggle.  It felt good.

[charlottemadison42]

On Good Omens and Faith

Here follow personal thoughts on what Good Omens has meant to me as an Exvangelical. There’s a lot of healing & hope here, but it gets a bit dark first, as worthy stories do.

CW: I wasn’t badly spiritually abused in church, but I’ll be discussing things that are spiritually abusive: purity culture, sexphobia, queerphobia, abortion, mild self-harm, failure to treat mental health appropriately, ableism -- plus the special ways church authority makes all of these especially hard.

I’m personally an atheist but this message is not an argument against faith itself, rather against the specific subculture I grew up in. If you are a person of faith you’re welcome here.

I grew up in the American Evangelical subculture of the 80′s and 90′s, in the Keith Green/DC Talk/Left Behind/Veggie Tales era. I got saved at a Carman concert in sixth grade, and re-pledged my faith just to be extra sure every year at summer camp and youth group retreats.

This upbringing is not unusual. Doesn’t make me special. But its effects were real.

I’m finally engaged in a reckoning with it, in the “I should maybe talk this over with a support group or therapist” sense. I was a worship leader and youth leader at a Vineyard church when I left my faith abruptly in 2007*. It took me ten years to tell my family and friends that I was an atheist. For that decade I didn’t think about it -- but when I confessed to my loved ones two years ago, the processing began in earnest.

If you came up Evangelical, you already know how literal our belief in angels and demons can be in certain strains of the church. Until I was 26, I believed they were real entities genuinely and invisibly at war all around me. The End Times were real and we were in them. The Antichrist was whatever high profile democrat could be weaponized at the moment, the Rapture was nigh, and Armageddon was imminent (which explained why tension kept building in the Middle East).

My church community regularly discussed friends and neighbors’ problems in the language of  demon possession or harrassment: depression was a demon, addiction was a demon, promiscuity was a demon. I was part of casual and formal exorcisms and the occasional healing. No holy water, but there were hours of fervent prayers and tears, speaking in tongues and anointing with oil. It’s like a fever dream looking back at it now.**

Shout out to my other teens and tweens of the Frank Peretti era, forbidden from reading books of fantasy any later than Lewis or Tolkein -- Xanth was forbidden, Hogwarts was demonic. We were given instead (retrospectively) horrifying books about spiritual warfare, Christian takes on historical fiction, and end times fantasies. But they weren’t sold as fantasy to us, it was all real. Adults in positions of power confirmed it over and over. Narnia might be allegory but This Present Darkness supposedly illustrated spiritual truths.

I remember telling a trusted church teacher at age 10 or 11 that sometimes I would get scared at night, in the dark, and feel a palpable terror that kept me awake. They told me with no hint of comfort, “That means a demon is visiting you and sitting on your chest, trying to oppress you with fear so you will sin. Don’t wake your parents or read a book, instead you should pray or read only the Bible until the demon is compelled to leave, either by an angel or the presence of God.” This adult was affirmed by amens and mm-hmms.

I took this teaching to heart. I also understood, by implication, that if the bad feeling stayed with me then I was praying wrong -- that no angel would rescue me that night. I knew that my fear as it compounded in the dark was itself a sin that made God harder for me to reach.

These are not things that should be told to children.

Then there were the prophecies. (read more if this resonates with you, if not I’ll clip it here so I don’t take up your whole screen)

Anyone could prophesy in most churches I attended. Dreams were prophecies, visions were prophecies, vague feelings were prophecies. (That gave nightmares / being hormonal / being really hungry an awful lot of sway at Bible study.)

I had a woman prophesy over me weeping, with her hands buried in my hair, that she felt overwhelming grief for my future child. I was 23.

I have no child, and I harbored the secret at the time was that I didn’t want one -- a rebellion for me as a married woman. I feared she was prophesying an abortion in my future, and I was inconsolable for months at the damning choice that would visit me someday. (As of this writing at age 38 I’ve never been pregnant, for which I give all thanks to modern birth control.) I still wonder what happened to that woman’s child, or pregnancy, or perhaps her desire for a child, that this was her prophecy for me.

I heard much darker things prophesied over other people. I remember career changes (ill-advised) and marriages staying together (they shouldn’t have) and mission trips undertaken (that assuredly should not have been) because of prophesies.

Last, of course, I didn’t know it yet but I had many queer friends at the time. Some of them didn’t know it. We had no context in our small town -- and no corners of the internet to hide in and learn context, because the internet didn’t do much more than access our local library catalog at the time. I was told that demons sat on my chest to oppress me as a child, but I was shielded from understanding what a lesbian actually was until I was sixteen.

I remember feeling vaguely guilty when we prayed over this or that person in youth group, entreating God that they could resist their base urges. We prayed that they could choose a life of abstinence if they had to, rather than enter sexual sin and be cast out. I felt guilty but I still joined the circle to pray.

I’m sorry. I was wrong. Part of me knew it at the time. I wish I had listened to that part of me because that it was correct. There are fragments of my former faith I still treasure, but those prayers were rotten to the core.

Sidebar: Luckily that feeling of guilt bloomed quickly into rejecting queerphobic doctrine. By age 20 I decided I could only attend churches that did not preach homophobic takes on scripture from the pulpit, and that did not advocate/imply advocacy for any particular political party. The reason I mention this: if YOU are currently a person of faith in this position, uncomfortable with what you hear from your leadership, go find a church that’s queer-affirming, gives to the poor, and advocates for immigrants. Live in a conservative area? Create or join a home church. That’s what the early church looked like anyway. Don’t shrug off this responsibility. Shine a light.

Anyway. Several years later, I fell.

I had to step down from multiple church leadership positions in one day. My entire life changed in two months; marriage, job, home, friends, everything uprooted when I could no longer pretend to believe. I didn’t tell my family why everything fell apart, even as they let me crash their couches.

I had wanted to be a good believer. I read apologetics, the mystics, eschatology, theophostics. I taught and attended study groups, I took troubled teens out to coffee, I served the homeless, I waited til marriage. I was in church as many as thirty hours weekly. When I first felt my faith slipping I said “not yet,” and I read the entire Bible straight through twice, in different translations, while journaling through “My Utmost for His Highest.” Then, unsatisfied, I read and annotated the New Testament in interlinear Greek. I gave it my everything.

What could replace all that?

Time, it turns out. And freedom.

Freedom to not think about it was perhaps the kindest freedom. The constant labor of self-evaluation and thought policing that goes into Evangelical Christianity is exhausting. Letting it go of it felt like getting my mind back. Or owning it for the first time, since I never knew this freedom before. I had even been seeking counseling because I was hearing multiple voices in my head at once, all mine, often arguing. That problem vanished the hour I deconverted. I heard only one voice anymore, and it was my own.

For ten years I was free to just not think about it.

When I decided to remarry I realized that I didn’t want to explain to anyone why my ceremony would not include prayers or communion. So I told my loved ones at last that I was an atheist, a decade late. They received it graciously, and I’m sure they had known-but-not-acknowledged it for a long time. I hope they don’t worry about me or pray behind my back for my salvation. But if they do I can’t accept responsibility for it anymore.

Since that confession I’ve finally felt compelled to back at what all actually happened in church. It seemed so normal to me at the time. But wait, it wasn’t:

I exorcised people. I laid on hands for healings. I encouraged episodes of religious rapture, falling out, and speaking in tongues, and as a worship leader I knew the music cues to bring them about (yes, there are certain chord and tempo changes for that). I was present for prophecies that changed people’s lives and might have issued some myself, I don’t remember. I alienated people who didn’t fit in, whether because they were queer or just because they didn’t conform to church culture. I witnessed abuse and had no language to report it or even comprehend it. I hurt people. I was hurt.

I was told there were real demons in my room and I had to pray them away all by myself.

The work of undoing this mindf*ck (sorry friends of faith, that’s how it felt) suddenly turned urgent after being ignored for a decade. I can’t afford therapy, but thankfully Twitter chats and message boards and podcasts exist (thank you, @goodchristianfun​ and @exvangelical​).

And then -- out of the blue -- along came my own personal angel and demon, along with Frances McDormand herself. I watched it on a whim. (Actually no, David Tennant’s hair made me.)

Apparently Good Omens had a few things to say directly to my mindf*cked subconscious:

1) Are you scared of demons in a pathological childhood trauma way? Here, have a helping of this amalgam of your favorite Doctor and scariest ever Marvel villain tearing it up as the demon Crowley.

2) Does your mild bookish personality and respect for the culture you grew up in keep you reflexively deferential to authority, even as it gaslights you and hurts others? Enjoy some Michael Sheen as the angel Aziraphale.

3) Are you stuck still mentally assigning a male gender to the god you always claimed was beyond gender? Boom, meet Her in all Her ineffable wisdom.

4) Are you terrified of the End Times, both as a Biblical horror of childhood and as an adult who reads the f*cking news? Let’s fantasize awhile about a solvable apocalypse (because what would that even look like, yo).

5) Do you keep reflexively binarizing good and evil? Still giving in to the temptation to characterize humans as righteous or fallen, especially celebrities and political prospects? Spend some time on Our Side with Adam, the utterly human Antichrist, as he makes choices that matter -- some goodish, some baddish, all with mixed consequences, because that’s what humans do.

6) Do you need more queer love stories in your life? Yes you do. Yes. YES. Here it is. The good stuff. Whether it’s gay, trans, genderfluid, asexual, agender, metaphysical, whatever (I’m enjoying reading all these takes and more on AO3) it’s a hell of a love story.

Good Omens was a f*cking revelation.

I’m not sure why the show hit me as hard as it did in the Exvangelical feels. It’s not that it’s a perfect show, but it was the right thing at the right time for me, and it brought a truck full of dynamite to the excavation I was just beginning with a trowel and a makeup brush. I finished watching ep 6 and thought “why do I feel like I’ll be thinking about this every single day for years?”

And then I looked down, and lo and behold I had an open chest wound -- inside of which I found the banished memory of a child trembling and praying in terror in a dark room.

There was a lot that I forgot about in the ten years it took me to hike away from Evangelical life. It all came rushing back.

I had forgotten the sweat and cries during exorcisms and the heat of laying on of hands. I had forgotten fits of ecstatic tears of self-hatred and self-denial so strong they were almost blissful, as I sang and chanted mantras like “I am nothing, You are everything.” I had forgotten giving away ten percent of my income until I was 26. I had forgotten the constant mental effort of Being A Proverbs 31 Woman, about submission and complementarianism and feeling responsible to guard the virtue of men by never tempting them. I had forgotten the pressure to not even masturbate before marriage and to become a sexual athlete the night after.

I had forgotten the hours and hours of daily prayers. Every phrase was carefully carved in language my superego ran by my doctrine, to make sure no hint of rebellion ever bled through. I washed words of need and doubt and frustration from my mind so they could never slip between me and my Heavenly Father. I didn’t just want to hide thoughts God wouldn’t like, I would have cut them out with violence if I knew how. As a result I picked and ticced and cut and exhibited symptoms of OCD.

It hurt to remember all of this at once during a BBC Amazon Prime miniseries. It confused me. It confused my spouse. I looked at all these feelings, exposed and piled in a massive dirty heap -- and I spotted the straps I used to haul it around with me for decades. Who knew I could carry all that? The weight of faith?

But I don’t have to pick it up again. I had a new story to help me frame my story. I felt equipped with a flaming sword to face my past and a new syntax to describe the old ideas I'm ready to let go of.

I got to recast Heaven and Hell. I was invited to ask myself whether a cozy cluttered bookshop doesn’t beat them both hands down.

I got to reimagine angels and demons, good and bad, intentions and consequences. I was invited to live in the reality that we’re all of us humans in between, and that I’m probably still overinvested in the value of Good and Bad as yardsticks.

I got to reimagine western history. The show’s perspective of history is very limited and Eurocentric, but it’s also the version of history I was taught at an early age, which made the story a useful lens to deconstruct what I learned before I knew much about critical thinking.

The opening of Episode 3 in particular f*cked me up. First Aziraphale lies to God and She vanishes, then Crowley starts poking holes in the story of the Flood, then at the Crucifixion -- I started breathing hard on my first viewing, experiencing a real physiological threat response. I was loving it, of course, but distressed panicky love.

The second time I watched it I realized what was happening: I was going back to Sunday School to revisit ideas I absorbed before I was fully sentient, and examining them in the light of fully formed adult secular morality. They look different from here.

When God withdraws Her presence from Aziraphale in the first few moments of Ep 3 as he prevaricates (well, lies) I remembered the one great fear of my faithful life: that I could sin a particular sin and as punishment I would be cut off from God’s presence. As a believer in the End Times, that meant the Rapture could occur at any moment and I might be rejected, be left behind to experience the Tribulation.

Now, from some remove, I realize that I always had one fear larger. It’s a thought I never allowed myself to entertain consciously. Good Omens unearthed it like a vein of flowing lava:

If the Apocalypse as my church describes it is real, how could God want it to happen? And if God does, is this a God I want to worship? If I don’t, but I’ll be damned for that, is my faith freely chosen?

Whose side could I really be on, in the End Times, if not Heaven’s or Hell’s?

These are not small questions.

I’m relieved that I answered them a long time ago for myself.

But even after the answering, there’s fallout; a million little knots to untie and ideas to unlearn. We all get to spend our lives doing this sort of archaeological dig through our childhood baggage, I suppose. My Stuff is certainly not unique. It’s just a lot. Same as everyone’s.

But once in awhile a story comes along and helps us with the process. A sharper spade, a better tool for the work. In my case, through Good Omens I received demolition-grade explosives. It gave me a framework, characters, and a personal shorthand to speed my own digging and contextualize what I find.

If your history is kinda like mine -- whether you’re still in the faith or not -- be sure to talk to someone about church stuff from your past. The weird stuff, the dark stuff, the things you did/people did to you that now seem “off.” Even if you’ve grown past the point of “mental illness requires an exorcism” there are still dangerous ideas buried like land mines in our moral matrices. Self-hatred, intolerance, fear of abandonment, fear that failure is damnation, presumption that “we’re” on the “right side” of everything and “they’re” not, fear that we the apocalypse Is Written by powers above and so we can’t change it.

I’m so happy I know a story with an Our Side now.

I’m so happy I know a story in which the true test of devotion to God’s Ineffable Plan is turning away from the dictates of Heaven and turning toward the World.

I’m so glad I met Aziraphale -- so like me, still seeking Heaven’s approval far too late in the game. I’m so grateful he found the courage to walk away, and I’m so glad I did too. I love that I know Crowley now, self-pwning lovelorn disaster demon of minor inconveniences and imagination and free will. I’m so happy Crowley was there to tempt his friend with questions from the start, and to receive him when he was finally ready to break away.

I’m so proud to know Adam and the Them and Anathema and Newt, inept humans trying their hardest against unstoppable cosmic forces, getting it right not just despite their flaws but through and because of them.

I’m so grateful I’ve finally managed to completely swap to female pronouns for God (thanks, Frances). I still love stories about Her, I still enjoy talking theology and religion. And after 20+ years of insisting God is above gender but masculinizing him, it’s about time I switch to thinking of God as Her for a spell to even things out.***

I’m so thankful for the nicest fandom I’ve known in ages and all the glorious queer beautiful amazing body-positive art and writing growing in this fabulous garden.

Confession accomplished.

CM

P.S. I might not have the time/resources you need to chat with you if you’ve had similar experiences or want to discuss. If you need help be sure to reach somewhere healthy to get it. If you witness abuse, online or in church or otherwise -- report it, block it, mute it, shut it down, whatever is in your power.

P.P.S. If you have words of rebuke for me from a churchy place, and/or critiques about gender or politics, sorry, don’t give a f*ck. This is my story to tell and I am secure in my spiritual status. I am free indeed.

++++++++++++++

*Re. Deconversion: Or rather, I had my faith zapped out of me in what turned out to be the truest rapturous religious experience of my life. It happened in a church service; I almost fell out and spoke in tongues with the tingling power of understanding that I was truly and finally faithless. It’s an interesting deconversion story if you're familiar with charismatic church stuff, ask me sometime over tea. It felt like this.

**Re. Exorcisms: Most disturbing was the regular practice of exorcising people who clearly needed professional help for their mental health. I was present when prayers against demons happened over cases of depression, manic depression, epilepsy and other seizures, addiction, schizophrenia, and psychotic episodes. My particular church did acknowledge the role of modern medicine, but felt that the true core of these issues was spiritual and that medication ultimately could not solve a problem of demonic infestation. Looking back now I shudder and weep to think that this happened, that I was part of it once, and that it still happens daily at churches everywhere. It can be unspeakably damaging to the people being prayed over. If this practice happens in your church, leave. If it happens at a church where you’re in leadership, end it.

***Re. God as She/Her:  I encourage you to find your own appropriate pronouns for God, whether you believe in Them or not. For me personally, still reeling from the Proverbs 31 upbringing, She/Her is very healing for now. But gender is a construct etc. etc.

[lightninginabottle0613]

50 questions ⚖️

a scale for libra season - you knew i would!!

thank you to all of these angels for tagging me & giving me a chance to learn more about your precious selves - @yanak324 @watersandwolves @kelleesioverhere @livhatesolives @thelandofnothing

what is the color of your hairbrush? black! with some silver on the handle. 

name a food you never eat? sushi. i don’t dislike it, but it’s just far enough down on my favorites list that i never choose it over something else.

are you typically too warm or too cold? almost always too cold, but that’s exactly how i like it.

what were you doing 45 minutes ago? talking to my brother. he is at sea and bought internet for the day :’)

what’s your favorite candy bar? i don’t think i have a favorite tbh. i like most candy well enough. not really a candy person, though!

have you ever been to a professional sports game? i have been to many major league baseball games, & two minor league soccer games.

what is the last thing you said out loud? “love you, too” 💘

what is your favourite ice cream? ben & jerry’s mint chocolate cookie

what was the last thing you had to drink? lemon la croix in a stemless wine glass, bc nothingggg matterrrssss 

do you like your wallet? i actually don’t, lol. it’s a little dark green designer thing that i splurged on last year, bc i thought adults needed fancy wallets. & it’s very off brand for me. i also broke the inside zipper one hour after purchasing it, when i ripped the tag off bc i was too lazy to get scissors. so that makes me hate it even more.

what is the last thing you ate? omg. loaded sweet potato fries. with cheese & fake bacon & ranch.

did you buy any new clothes last weekend? i did! just one shirt at target. a lil striped guy. as if i needed any more of those.

what’s the last sporting event you watched? the eagles/bengals game last sunday. i didn’t put it on, like ... on purpose. i was hanging out with two straight men who insisted, bc i’m from philadelphia. it was sweet of them i guess

what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? anything cheeeeesy. or just regular. but fuck a caramel corn (sorry)

who is the last person you sent a text message to? one of the aforementioned straight men

ever go camping? yes!!!!!!! camping is so cute. very into it

do you take vitamins? i am actually all out of my multivitamin, so this question has reminded me to add it to my shopping list for tomorrow.

do you regularly attend a place of worship? (don’t make a target joke, don’t make a target joke)

do you have a tan? haha

do you prefer chinese or pizza? my east coast roots all but require me to say pizza. i do love a good sesame NOODLE though

do you drink your soda through a straw? no ma’am

what color socks do you usually wear? i’ve got all sorts of colors!! right now they are white with black polka dots. team fun socks

do you ever drive above the speed limit? i mean yeah, of course. i am a self- and others-proclaimed Great Driver, though. so i will drive above the speed limit a responsible and excusable amount.

what terrifies you? birds. everyone thinks it’s a joke until they see me encounter a bird. (no, not sparrows/robins/little tiny birds that fly away when you approach them. obviously not those. they’re doing amazing.) 

look to your left, what do you see? couch cushion! i have been on the couch for five hours. 

what chore do you hate most? oh like, probably cleaning the litter box lol. that shit sucks

what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? steve irwin (and the fact that my mom cried when he died)

what’s your favorite soda pop? diet coke, because i am ✨garbage✨

do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? drive thru!! the drive thru experience is one of my favorite things. i love cradling my lil head in my hand while i talk to the person over the intercom. pretty much flirt with every drive thru attendant i ever come across. they’re so cute. shout out to grace at my local starbucks

what’s your favorite number? another day passes where i don’t have a favorite number

who’s the last person you talked to? out loud, my brother. over text, i am talking to three (3) very cute people! one of them is yana, hey bb

favorite cut of beef? the fake kind!

last song you listened to? whistle while you work. i’m watching snow white

last book you read? lol guys, i’m a disgrace. i haven’t read a book in so long. i just don’t have the energy. all i do anymore is attend zoom meetings, cry about the news, and journal about the moon

favorite day of the week? what is a “day” of the “week”

can you say the alphabet backwards? i just attempted it. i can, but very slowly.

how do you like your coffee? iced 😇 with a splash of oat milk. but i just bought a french vanilla coconut milk creamer today. so i’m really branching out.

favorite pair of shoes? i love my white birkenstocks more than anything, but i hate exposing my feet. so probably my dad sneakers.

time you normally get up? arounnnnnd 5:00 a.m.

what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? sunrises these days! usually far too dissociated to enjoy a sunset anymore lolllll i’m fine

how many blankets on your bed? just my main comforter, and my lil pink baby blanket that i still sleep with (balled up under my head)

describe your kitchen plates? they are pink & they are the same as yana’s

describe your kitchen at the moment? clean! except one dish in the sink. but clean, always

do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? i love a light beer! and learning to appreciate a red wine. nothing fancy.

do you play cards? almost never. i cannot stand games

what color is your car? my last three cars have accidentally been blue. the one i got in march (the first one i bought myself!!) is “cosmic blue” :’)

can you change a tire? no!! someone teach me though, i want to learn

your favorite state? pennsylvania, for better or for worse. 

favorite job you’ve had? 2018 me would be dying at current me even thinking of admitting this, but the one i have right now! it has taught me more than any job i’ve ever had, and introduced me to some of my favorite people, and treated me incredibly well during a time when so many have lost everything. cannot complain even slightly (although i most definitely do, and will continue to)

tagging: everyone that i would’ve tagged has already done this lol damn it guys!! @beautifulinsanesanity have you done this? idk. if you’ve made it this far & haven’t done it yet, then please consider yourself tagged.

-

🛑 IF YOU LIVE IN AMERICA - HI! ONE MONTH UNTIL ELECTION DAY! are you registered to vote (if you’re of age)? are you aware of how fucked we are if we don’t mobilize to get this ogre out of office? vote early if you can. vote in person if you can. volunteer to be a poll worker if you can. just ... literally please lol. i’m so tired.

love u.