#this is the first fandom that i've ever really felt comfortable and welcome in; the first fandom that i might've actually had an impact on

[scarycranegame]

a bit of a more serious post than usual so if you don't really wanna see that, i won't be upset at all if you keep scrolling.. the only reason why this is under a cut is because i myself don't really wanna look at it every time i scroll through my blog (is that a thing people do?? or am i just very self absorbed??? LMAO)

i'm a little concerned about urban himself and the direction he's taking his series.

like.. i'm all for creative expression, and i'm all for the idea of nobody policing anyone else's creative work for what can and can't be done in a certain narrative (let alone fiction in general), but i feel like the more interaction urban has had with his fanbase and the analog horror community in general, the more it's been affecting both him and his series.

i think that i should address his twitter presence and """controversy""" first, because that's the thing that's on everyone's mind when they hear "urbanspook" at this point.

i wanna preface this by saying that i fucking hate how people have been responding to all of this. what chezzkids and pastra are doing & have done is, indeed, harassment; they aren't criticizing urban's series, they're saying it shouldn't exist. both pastra and chezzkids can be quoted saying effectively the same thing: "urban should not have a platform, and by supporting him and his art, we're encouraging other people to make things similar to it, and that's bad." if you don't see the problem with that, let me spell it out for you: these are fascist, pro-censorship views that align with those of harmful far-right ideologies which call for the suppression of content made by and in support of marginalized people. if you're willing to overlook that because "icky shock horror bad!!!!", then i think you should log off of the internet and spend some time re-evaluating your perception of the world and those around you, especially those who are different than you. this man has been the victim of a targeted harassment campaign for, at most, a full year, and mocking him for lashing out as a result of said harassment is far more ableist than the phrase "autistic furry horror" will ever be.

with that being said, i greatly dislike the way urban conducts himself on twitter. yes, i know it's supposed to be ironic; yes, i know he's "trolling" and that everything he says on there is disingenuous..

...but this is the internet.

no one is going to genuinely believe it's all a big joke, no matter how many times urban says it and no matter how true it may be. they already don't see him from a very positive perspective, even if they don't have much of a justifiable reason to do so (although their reasoning is understandable to an extent), so playing up a purposefully "edgy, immature, rage-bait" persona might drive people away who may have otherwise been interested in the series. i've seen several testimonials from people who enjoy the series and have even created fan work, but are put off by urban's behavior on twitter, and some people have even gone so far as to claim that the series in of itself is objectively bad and devoid of any value solely because of the twitter situation despite not having watched a single video in the series. yeah, the whole point of the joke may be self-parody, the punchline might be that urban is playing up the analog horror community's wildly inaccurate perception of how he is as a person, but i feel like the joke's gone on a little bit too long to still be anything but harmful to urban and his presence on the internet. he's stated that after finishing his current series, he wants to step away from analog horror altogether and work on other things, but i fear that if the twitter antics continue the way they're going, that might not end up happening; either due to a lack of willingness on his part (after all, being around so much negativity for such a long time typically affects people very adversely), or due to a lack of remaining audience.

despite my concerns, however, it must be said that i don't know what any other communities he's active in are like, and if i had to guess, i would assume that his future work under the "urbanspook" name would be more in tune with his actual interests pertaining to the horror genre as opposed to anything in the orbit of the analog horror community. i could be completely wrong about the twitter business, and urban's effectiveness at creating things completely divorced from analog horror may not be compromised in the slightest. however, as a fan of his analog horror series, i still feel that it's important to suggest this possibility: even after it's finished, The Painter will still exist, and its association with this particular time in urban's online endeavors may make some people wary of giving it a chance when they otherwise may have enjoyed it.

speaking of urban's work, i think i should elaborate more on how urban's interactions with his fanbase are affecting the series itself as opposed to him and his online presence.

to put my view of where things are going in terms of urban's handling of the series, i remember reading a magazine interview with him at some point (i think it was either right before or right after PIGS was released) where he mentions that he got the idea of there being two killers from fan theories, which!! on paper it seems like a cool thing to do!! but recently with all of these new lore additions (ex., mask guy missing his face and acting like a dog, painter being female, revealing the killers' names at all, the episodes not being in chronological order, etc.), i'm starting to notice a sort of "matpat effect" (to coin a phrase) going on, where he's writing the story in such a way that canonizes fan theories just for the sake of canonizing those fan theories.. i don't find it very difficult to believe that all the people in his instagram/youtube comments asking the same exact questions over and over may have influenced his writing decisions a bit, and even though he himself has admitted he isn't the best writer, i think that the earlier episodes are the strongest of the series (sans PIGS and FAMILY, i love those two with all my heart and soul) and that urban's writing is best when it isn't influenced by the fanbase. (if anyone wants me to elaborate on this, let me know!! i might make a post at some point about what i think is different between the first few episodes and the newer episodes if anyone wants me to; i think legitimately analyzing this series is super fun and i have a lot of things to say about it!!)

all in all, i'm just really worried about urban. in the beginning, he seemed so adamant about being individual and unique with his series and his online presence; he defied so many expectations that people had regarding analog horror and those who create it and seemed so much happier to work on this series... but now it seems like he just wants to get it all over with so he can work on things he actually wants to work on, and all anyone sees him as is a caricature of someone who never even really existed in the first place outside of a moment of completely justified rage. his heart isn't in it anymore; at least, it doesn't seem like it to me, and i really hope that eventually all of this superficial, reactionary """controversy""" bullshit blows over and that maybe urban's remaining time in the analog horror community can be made at least a little bit more pleasant.

[seraphiism]

𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ( 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 )

( the past is gone ; the future is far away. WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF? )

chara : dan heng fandom : honkai star rail quote cr : agust d a/n : he is just a little guy . also i've played for like 2 hrs i love writing abt men i love yet have no idea who they are

THE PAST IS A DESIRE DEMON / A DEVIL IN DISGUISE : INTOXICATING, ALLURING, AND EVERYTHING HE THOUGHT HE ONCE SURVIVED. THE PAST IS AN ILLUSION, A DREAM, A RECKONING : THE WOOL PULLED OVER ONE'S EYES, AN OBSCURE SMOKESCREEN, AND THE INABILITY TO DISTINGUISH WHAT WAS REAL AND WHAT WAS NOT IN MEANS OF COPING WITH WHAT WAS LOST.

the past is something dan heng cannot escape. journey after journey, battle after battle, the tides grow in their cruelty, threaten to drown a dragon in the waves of penitence. there is something that lingers in the strings of the heart-- a memory waning, the bitter taste of rust on his tongue-- how it anchors him so, prays for a downfall that one deems deserved.

the past is not something dan heng wishes to remember, but he does, anyway, because somewhere, there is the breaking of a seemingly cold soul that reminds him that even he cannot ignore his own humanity. defeat the spirit and it will return even stronger, suppress the sins of the past and they will return with even more hatred and anguish.

somewhere, he's drowning.

his vision fills with a clear blue-- tranquil. silent. forlorn. a clear blue, a violent storm, the harsh ebb and flow, then a muddled mess of blue and black. everything distorts, turns into white noise. he cannot see, cannot hear, feels his senses being stolen away, left in a limbo of uncertainty. something presses against his chest. something is pressing down and down -- a slow descent, the rapid rise and fall in attempt to breathe breathe breathe BREATHE --

dan heng cannot regain himself. he shuts his eyes, reminds himself that there is a way out of all things. composure and focus aligned, he controls his breathing. in and out, inhale and exhale. deep breath. there is a way out of all things. there is no need to be afraid. the pressure eases. the weight is lighter, but remains present, but the sway of the waters persists, and he cannot stabilize himself, find harbor and safety in the tides.

he opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is you. his head throbs, the floor beneath him far from comfortable. he cannot remember much, not really, recalls fighting beast after beast before seeing you in danger. he has always been a protector, a shield, but even then, he does not think his heart has ever raced so quickly in the desperation of guarding another. how quick he was, covering your body with his in order to save you from harm's way.

--ah. he remembers it all now. the way you cried out for him, that terrifying pain that engulfed his body, the quiet relief he felt when he realized you were okay, then the losing of himself and the welcoming of darkness.

you hover over him, concern etched all over your features, scratches and bruises adorning your face. your hand lingers on his chest, desperate. you seek comfort in the knowing of a beating heart, a weak apology spilling from your lips for about -- well, everything. dan heng doesn't quite understand it all-- an apology for shaking him so hard in means to wake him ( and maybe that's what it was, that weight, the strange instability in the tides. it was you all along, trying to pull your lover from the depths of the sea ). another apology for letting him get hurt, then another for--

his body hurts. his limbs ache, but he will be alright. he has to be. he smiles despite the panic and adrenaline that continues to rush through your bloodstream, and the mere sight means more than you could ever tell him. your words cut short, voice nearly breaking, and you cry the moment he places his hand over yours.

he does not speak of love so casually, finds that actions speak louder than words. in the way he squeezes your hand, utmost ardor found in blue hues, there is the silent confirmation that he is alright, that he's here with you.

"thank you." you whisper, and there are so many things you wish to say, but the words lodge themselves in your throat, heavy with the realization of what could have been. "thank you, dan heng."

you repeat this like a mantra unheard, the tears shamelessly spilling. he doesn't like the sight, feels the guilt rest on heavy shoulders, so he sits up, holds your hand a little tighter before he pulls you into a hug. how warm your tears are, he thinks, when you bury your face into the crook of his neck, and how grateful he is that you are able to share this moment, even if you are both injured. it doesn't matter in the end, he supposes. you are both alive and together, and that's all he needs.

"i won't leave you." he tells you. "you have me until the end."

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

Heya! Can you make a cute short fic with Q? I've been obsessed with him lately, anything should be perfect!

Cultural Differences

Pairing: Q x fem!reader Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation Words: 2K Warnings: Hurt/Comfort Summary: Sometimes it is better to ask for the reason for an extraterrestrial ritual. Often it is better to do this before the ritual, otherwise you will come back with an omnipotent being as your husband. A/N: Thank you so much for your request, I really hope you like it. I feel like this is not the best thing I've ever written, because I find Q difficult to write, but I really tried.

Frowning, she stared at him from narrowed eyes as she did her best to remain calm and stop herself from smacking the smug grin off his face: " I'm sorry, what?" She truly hoped she had misheard and the all-knowing being/her lover before her, had not said what she thought she had heard. "I asked when the honeymoon was scheduled to start." She was pretty sure the confusion on her face was more than evident. "Where the hell did you come up with honeymoon? You do know what that is, don't you?"

Offended, Q pursed his mouth and jumped up, clapping his hands. "Mon amour, you insult me. Of course I know what a honeymoon is. I am Q, I know everything." He stepped towards her, bent down to take her face in his hands, and smiled his most charming smile, which usually made her heart pound, but now more than upset her. "It's a time for a newly married couple, to spend together." He pulled her up an

With great effort, she tried not to let her shudder show and looked up at him sceptically. "Have you not noticed your mistake, O all-knowing Q?" Her voice was mocking, something she would never have dared to do in his presence at the beginning of their acquaintance, for fear of being turned into a frog. "Maybe I'll have to give you a bit of a jolt: Newly. Married. Only people who have just got married go on honeymoons. We're together, not married, Q."

Now it was up to him to look confused, an expression she rarely saw on his face, and would have more than enjoyed under other circumstances. "We ... are, though?" "Oh," she laughed out, having to hold onto the top of his uniform to keep from falling. "Oh no, we're not. Believe me, my dear, I would remember such a ceremony." A frown took up residence on his face and slowly her laughter died away. "But... you said that you ..." Q seemed distracted and instantly she felt bad and took his hand.

"Hey. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, honey. I didn't mean to say I wouldn't. It's just..." Q interrupted her. "The ceremony was three hours ago. How can you not remember that?" "What?" All humour had disappeared and she was back to confusion. "Q three hours ago we were on the planet doing this strange water ritual that the inhabitants insisted on because they believed we were the incarnations of the divine royal pair before the Captain had had a chance to... oh my God."

She stared at him from widened eyes. "Q. Please tell me we didn't get married down there." He fell silent. "Q!" "You told me not to tell you," he returned, staring at the floor in a huff, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his mouth twisted into a pout.

She was at a loss for words. Of course she loved him, they had been together for years, but this? A wedding? Without even knowing about it? She sank down on the sofa and lowered her head into her hands. Now even the stupid grin from him, throughout the ceremony made sense, or the surprisingly passionate kiss after it. For a few minutes Q was actually silent before he spoke up again. "I thought you knew." His voice was low and he sounded guilty, a register of voice she had never heard on him before. She looked up. "How the hell could I have known about this! It was a first contact mission! I thought it was some kind of welcoming ritual."

"Aren't you the ship's anthropologist?" Gradually she became more agitated and jumped up. "I like to say it again, FIRST CONTACT MISSION!!! We knew nothing about the planet except that it was warp capable, though still believed in the old gods. That was it. How was I supposed to know about this ritual?" Q started to reply, however, she waved it off with a snort. "You can save that." With long strides she walked over to her door. "Where are you going?" "To blow off steam," she hissed back, giving him a cold look as he tried to follow her. "Alone."

He stuck his chest out and leaned down to her. "I am a Q. You cannot command me mortal." His words hurt more than she had believed, yet she only jutted her chin. "Stay away from me and leave me alone for this moment so I can think or I swear I will never speak another word to you." She was angry and Q knew it, however he didn't seem to believe her. "You wouldn't be able to bear that. You love me too much for that."

All he earned was another cold stare before she continued her way down the corridor. "Mon amour?" His call reached her ears before the turbolift doors closed, yet she did not respond. For the moment, she needed her peace. Apparently Q seemed to have realised that too, because contrary to her expectations, he had not followed her into the lift, for which she was grateful to him. Q had been right. She would never in her life be able to stand not talking to him again.

Her path led her to the botanical garden and only there, on one of the benches, hidden behind one of the huge rhododendron bushes, did she allow her frustration and fear and all her other feelings to run free and ruffle her hair. Married! Her! To Q!

She wasn't arrogant enough not to admit that she hadn't imagined it at least once, however, she had usually swept those ideas aside quickly because the idea was ridiculous. Q, the Q, capricious, omnipotent and as old as time itself, as a husband who dutifully waits at home for his wife to come home, with meals cooked and quarters freshly cleaned? If she hadn't felt so much like crying, she would have laughed. Just the idea of Q in a relationship was bizarre and she was the other part of that relationship.

"Are you all right?" Startled, she started up and looked into the questioning and kind face of the android in gold uniform who was looking at her. "You look like you are not well and as a friend, I was wondering if I could offer my help." A small smile crept onto her lips. Data really was a case in point.

Sighing, she shook her head. "I'm afraid not, my friend. This is a problem between me and Q." "Ah." Data tilted his head in understanding. "You are experiencing emotional misery due to a problem in your relationship." He settled down on the bench beside her after a moment's consideration. "However, I am sure that you will overcome this crisis, as you did the many crises before it."

She glanced to the side. "I'm not so sure about that. This isn't about a prank being played or the fact that he thinks I'm a little too reckless on missions." She swallowed. "When we were on this planet, before you could bring us up, we had to participate in a ritual that was apparently a wedding ceremony. And he knew, but didn't say anything!" Date nodded slowly. "And you are upset because you do not want a marriage with him." "What? No!" "So you do desire this marriage with him?" "No!"

Data looked confused. "So you do not wish for marriage, but equally you wish for it." Again she sighed. "Data, I'm not mad about the wedding itself. I mean, sure I'm a little pissed about that too, but it's much more the fact that he didn't tell me." "You feel like he took away your choice." "Maybe." "Have you talked to him about it?"

She stared at the floor in front of her. "Not really. I rather... well... rushed out of our quarters because I needed time to myself." Data hummed in agreement and rose. "Perhaps you should talk to him about it then. Counselor Troi has explained to me that the key to a good relationship and marriage, is communication." She winced slightly at the word 'marriage', but still had to smile at the idea that her synthetic boyfriend had received relationship advice from the ship's Counselor. Whatever for. "Perhaps."

Data nodded goodbye and left her alone. For a few minutes she tried to compose herself before she spoke his name softly, barely audible. "Q." Within a split second he appeared in a flash of light before her, on his knees and his hands held into a praying pose. "Mon étoile, please forgive me. I promise you, I really believed you knew." He almost hugged her legs. "Please don't leave me alone. I can't stand this without you. I'm sorry, I really am. Tell me what you want me to do. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it."

Shocked, she stared down at him. "Q, you haven't been alone for fifteen minutes!" Q just shook his head. "Fifteen minutes too long." She sighed and gently tugged at his curls to lift his gaze to her. "I want to talk to you. And for that, you need to be calm. Sit down, please." She gestured to the seat next to her where Data had been sitting until just a moment ago and Q complied with her request almost instantly, even seeming nervous by his standards, which made her feel a tiny bit guilty since she had never seen him so upset.

There was silence between them before Q dared to raise his voice. "Are you still angry with me?" "I don't think so." She shook her head and folded her hands in her lap. "I'm disappointed, though, Q." He let out a small whimper. "That's almost worse." "Q, I want you to understand that I'm not necessarily upset because we got married. To be honest, it's something I personally wouldn't object to." She reached for his hand and ran her thumb over the back of it. "It's how that bothers me."

"I know you believed I knew. Still, you should have asked me Q, at least to be sure. By not doing so, you took away my chance to make a decision. Not that I would have said 'no' to a wedding," she added quickly when she saw the sad expression on his face. "However, I would have preferred that if we had decided to get married, that it happened with the full and conscious consent of both of us, in the presence of the people we care about. And not on a foreign planet, surrounded by strangers who think we are incarnations of their gods."

Carefully, she pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. "I love you Q, I really do. But you must understand my point of view."

For a few moments Q was silent before he nodded slowly. "I understand you, mon amour. And I'm sorry. I should have asked and made sure you knew what you were getting into. I should have thought about the consequences my actions could bring instead of just thinking about myself and the opportunity I was presented with." "You should have," she admitted, smiling gently at him.

He smiled slightly sheepishly and she thought she had rarely seen him so shy and vulnerable. "If it makes you feel any better, the Ajghasti ceremony is not legal under Federation law anyway. So strictly speaking, we're not married after all." Relieved, she exhaled. "Thank heavens for that. I really hadn't wanted to get married like this." Q glanced to the side and she could tell he was trying to mask his hurt, so she leaned closer and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'd really rather marry you in a decent way, surrounded by friends and family and who knows. Maybe I can get the Captain convinced to perform the ceremony." By now Q was staring at her wide-eyed. "Unless you've had enough of married life after all, after just over three hours of it."

Q jumped up, pulling her with him and twirling her around as a laugh escaped him. "Oh, mon amour, you shouldn't have said that. Now I guarantee you won't get rid of me." Dizzy from the spinning, she clung to his arms and smiled up at him. She was sure the heat had darkened her cheeks, however, her eyes shone with joy where a few minutes ago there had been anger "That was the plan."

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@bigblissandlove1

[writingjourney]

Today is my ghostiversary ♡

Around this time last year I stumbled into this fandom, exactly a year ago today I texted my friend @xfilesinamajor for the first time about Ghost and Copia. It always surprises me how I did not find here earlier but perhaps it happened during the perfect time of my life.

In that time I have...

... made some of the best friends I ever had ... found a community where I can be myself unapologetically ... found an all time favorite band and rekindled my love for music ... saw them live and had one of the most amazing nights of my life ... improved my writing significantly by sheer force of brain rot ... met an incredible amount of talented artists/writers ... met even more people who are incredibly supportive of them/me ... found comfort characters that help me feel better every day ... felt creatively inspired in ways I've never felt before

So I really just want to thank you all – for welcoming me if you've been around since I got here, for finding and staying with me, for supporting my writing, for becoming my friends and caring about me, for sharing the love for a band that does so much good for a community of people who felt lost and like they didn't belong before getting here. I'll cut the pathos now but I had to at least try and express how much this means to me. Thank you ♡

[howyouloveyourdragon]

okay so im drafting this at like 8am on a sunday and while i usually don't feel comfortable posting milestones, this felt like an important one and i am so incredibly grateful for you all

i saw this morning that i hit 1k followers which is absolutely insane to me

i want to thank everybody who has ever followed me, supported me or inspired me especially as of recently and i apologise to anybody that i may have missed from tagging below (i originally tagged everyone in this post but it wouldn't let me because of stupid tumblr block sizes so please check the reblog down below) and there is absolutely no pressure from my end for you to interact at all! i just wanted to say thank you and that i really appreciate every single one of you and whether or not you were aware of it, you had an impact on me both as a person and a writer. im simultaneously in awe and trying to process why so many people on here have even tolerated me on this godforsaken hellsite

i greatly encourage any and everybody seeing this to check out any/everybody i have tagged below in my reblog and their writings/blogs, i can guarantee you that you will not be disappointed

i feel like i have been able to grow so much as a writer since publishing my first fic on this app, lavender haze, because of everybody's support and i just cannot even comprehend how so many people could actually enjoy what i write or listen to all my ramblings

when i was 13 and writing fanfic for the first time back in 2018, i never would have imagined being welcomed into a community so wide and meeting so many incredible people through this fandom let alone people actually enjoying what i write and following me at all

this horny fandom feels like a second home sometimes and i want to sincerely thank every single one of you from the bottom of my heart for being here for me even when i overshare and talk too much ☠️

sometimes i feel like i've only just typed howyouloveyourdragon into create account for the very first time and sometimes it feels like it's been a year already but hey only a few more months to go and the anniversary of howyouloveyourdragon will be among us

to celebrate you all joining me on here, i think that i will be finally buckling down and finishing as many of my drafts as i can and publishing them asap for you all to enjoy

i will be uploading a poll shortly to let you decide how i should prioritise them

unfortunately i doubt that i will able to celebrate in this way on the same day as this milestone as i will be in another country as of friday 28th but i will be trying my hardest to deliver these fics as soon as possible and as of this week i am reopening some malnourished drafts as i type this

to all of my followers, mutuals and friends thank you so very much

[lil-lost-mind]

(This is a bit of a along post about my general experience in the qsmp fandom, both good and bad, and it does mention xenophobia but not direct experiences)

I'm happy to see people here being so nice and reminding that we(Brazilians) are welcome here

I was really hesitant about interacting with fandom at first, I actually was there the Brazilians arrived because suddenly tazercraft live appeared for me on YouTube, I joined for a moment but didn't stay long, but I did look about it later. Because Brazilians youtubers/streamers are on a server with a bunch of people from other countries? I was curious about what this would lead to

Didn't regret it, but since then, I was a bit scared of interacting on fandom. Some comments on clips were fine. But then I started using tumblr because of a friend's recommendation, I kept a look on what was happening on lore on general but didn't really interact on fandom. Hence why I created this blog, and also why it took me so long to link this blog to my main one

Because, well, if I got hate for any reason, it would only be a sideblog that I only posted about qsmp. I could just delete it or just ignore them

I am by nature a person who is very shy to talk about my interests, it might have nothing wrong about it but I'm shy, I'm the type of person who goes on asks box on anon because is too shy, even if I'm not doing anything wrong there's this fear of judgemeent.

In the light of the recent events, I am once again reminded that's why I don't use or plan to use Twitter, but still I couldn't avoid but feel... scared in a way, I don't think anyone would like to be treated that way. And even a bit ashamed of saying that I'm brazilian. Ashamed might not be the right word, but there's this feeling wich is similar, and while I'm proud of being a brazilian, I just... maybe invalidate is a more fitting word, it's just feels like my culture is unimportant compared to others.

And this is what it seems, in my understanding, what looks like suffering from xenophobia is, but I imagine it's worse suffering it directly ofc, and ironically, I don't think I ever felt like that for those reasons before. And while I can't talk about how it feels when suffering from it directly, I feel bad for the people who had to go through it(not only Brazilians). Nobody should feel ashamed of their culture or ethnicity

Ofc tumblr isn't free of people like that. After all, no social media will be free from intolerance. But it feels like it's harder to see it. But I can't emphasize enough how it makes me happy to see so many people saying their blog is a safe place for us. After seeing this stuff, it makes things better, for me, at least. It reminds me that my culture isn't less important than any other

And qsmp brought something beautiful, the unity of communities. Because even with those bad things happening, it's not the only thing in fandom, it happens, and any fandom has this, unfortunately. But I love to see every time someone talks about their culture, facts about their languages, to see people motivated in learning new languages. It's beautiful and makes me happy each time

I don't regret making myself part of the fandom, the opposite, really, I've met creators that I would have never without the qsmp. I've met amazing people there, I've found incredible artists and writers. I've had fun

I've found the motivation to learn new languages again, more passion to draw

And I'm thankful to everyone there who is incredibly nice and so made me more comfortable interacting here, even if they will probably never know

So despite everything, I think it was worth it

Was worth reading character analysis and theories, enjoying stories, seeing fanart and animatics, learning new language facts and about other cultures. Was worth seeing people being happy

Again, I'm very thankful for all the people who made me, and I'm going to assume a lot of other people who needed to hear that, comfortable and validate here, I can't express how much this made me happy, I hope everyone coming from twitter have a good time here<3

And a very big and sincere "VAI TOMAR NO CU" to any xenophobic and racist person

I know very few people will see this, or even read everything, but I had to say this somewhere, so yeah, I'm rambling on tumblr again:D

[darkkitty1208]

The past few weeks before I finally returned from my unofficial hiatus, I've lost a lot of my motivation to write and anything to do with being part of the fandom as a whole. I contemplated quitting and never returning again, deleting all my works and socials and any other trace of me anyone could find, but I know that it's just the anxiety talking and my brain playing tricks with me due to IRL stress and that logically, I *do* have a place here in the fandom space. So I held back.

Now that I'm here again -- and have been welcomed very warmly by dear friends -- the urge to create has finally come around again and I want to get back into writing. It's just that, god, I feel very rusty. It's been quite a while and I feel like the words have run away from me after not using them for so long. I look into my mostly-abandoned WIPs and I can't find the right way to continue them.

But despite that, I decided to do a bit of the good ol' self-projecting and started a WIP (instead of finishing my old ones, lol). It's not much, but it's something. I felt compelled to share in hopes it would motivate me to write some more. This is all I've got so far, and it is admittedly very rough, but it's getting there.

~

Here’s the thing: healing isn't linear.

These are words repeated over and over again by those who you wouldn't think ever even had to heal. They're the kind of words that would lose its meaning the more they're said, and have you start wondering if to some people, they ever had any sort of meaning to begin with.

You can never really tell where it starts or where it finishes, or how it happened or if it ever did happen, the same way the flawed five stages of grief could never explain the true act of mourning and the same way your every emotion defies anything your logic could ever tell you.

Sometimes, Stephen finds, some things are just unexplainable like that.

Sometimes, Stephen doesn't think he's capable of healing. Sometimes, especially in nights where every bit of his sanity starts to fall apart and each choking breath would sting as it enters his damned lungs, he thinks he's too far gone to be capable of it at all.

(Sometimes he would sit silently and stare into nothing, thinking about the way nobody would understand that at some point in his life, he wasn't the man he used to be anymore. Sometimes he could feel it, the thing that consumed him, that took away who he was, and the way it would take up every space in his ribcage and burn his insides like acid, the way it would rip apart the space in his chest where his heart used to be. Sometimes he would think about it, and the way that it makes him nothing but an empty shell of a man. Every day that thing would grow inside of him and one day, it might ruin him; as if he isn't already far too broken to begin with.)

But it's here, in the roof of a sentient building he's grown to call his home where various pots are neatly arranged in small shelves, with his trembling fingers digging into rich soil and dirt sticking underneath his fingernails, that he starts to find proof that maybe, he had the capability after all.

It's here that he understands why humans would pick up a trowel and spend so much time getting on their hands and knees to dirty themselves with grimes of dirt.

There's something about the green of the Earth and the smell of her moist dirt in the early mornings, damp from the moon's tears, that soothes a part of him that he couldn't quite identify. There's something comforting about the mindless action of digging and burying and placing and watering. There's something comforting about knowing that his damaged fingers could sprout life even if it all depended on time.

But that's the thing, isn't it? Everything is just a matter of time.

(Sometimes he wishes healing isn't linear, the way he wishes time doesn't march on an ascending line.)

He remembers the same damp smell of moss and the same smudges of dirt on the knees of his trousers back then, the first time he was taught about gardening and farming and sprouting life from seeds.

He had still been a small boy in Nebraska, back then. He had been young, and he had never understood patience the way he does now. He didn't understand that what he planted was something that, if anything, was considered a miracle, and that miracles took time, and that miracles don't last forever. He didn't understand that life and decay is just a matter of time, and that everything including himself would eventually be nothing but rotting flesh and cracked bones, becoming one with the earth and consumed by the maggots and mushrooms.

Because that's the thing: everything is just a matter of time.

The experience had meant nothing to him then, and had taught him nothing much of anything at all, but it means something to him now.

[pfhwrittes]

Talk Shop Tuesday:

What piece(s) has (have) been most influenced by friendships you've formed here, and how is that reflected in your work?

hi gemma, i love you 💜

(and heads up, this is going to get long)

oh boy, so many of my fics have been inspired by my friends here!

it's absolutely mental to me that i started this blog because i wanted to yell at @391780 on tumblr instead of in her ao3 comments. so i think we can all say thank you to the lovely early for being my entry point into the cod fandom (her work The Arrangement was one of the first fics i read in the fandom - and one of the fics i've mostly recently re-read. i finished it up around 7.30 this morning).

in fact the entirety of the Retail Hell AU was inspired by this ask which came off the back of a post of hers talking about john price working in retail post-141 life.

in fact, a lot of my Masterlist is the result of me going "EARLY I'VE HAD ANOTHER IDEA!!!" in her DMs. she has my eternal love and gratitude for being such a fantastic writer and cheerleader for my writing.

next up, the lovely @kaadaaan is the sole reason i have so many john "soap" mactavish is a Certified Freak posts in my Here Be Kink Masterlist (heed the tags with that one, it's 18+ for a reason). most notably my most recent fics featuring slightly pathetic!johnny x pervy housemate!reader (part one and part two or on ao3 here).

vi is the WORST for letting me run my mouth on her posts or in her DMs. i have a whole document of notes on how i want to expand those fics into a truly depraved universe (rip to kyle, he's about to get put in the middle of the weirdest threesome of his life while simon slowly loses his mind over the fact that his stolen t-shirt is now a cum rag for the most disgusting couple he knows).

then there's @syoddeye. i found For the Record on ao3 and fell in love with the way they write the messy reality of living with addiction and being kind of stalled out in your life. it dragged emotions i hadn't felt for years out of me and i think as a result it's given me the courage to be vulnerable in my own writing in a way that i wasn't confident enough to do when i first started writing for the fandom.

it's really fucking scary to leave parts of yourself in your writing, intentionally or not, but the fact that they continue to pour love on my kyle x transmasc!reader fic from my Binders and Boyfriends series and have called it a comfort fic just means the absolute world to me.

and finally, there's you cariad! yes that's right, you of @gemmahale fame! you have been one of my biggest and brightest cheerleaders for anything involving our beloved kyle "gaz" garrick. it has been an absolute joy to yell in your DMs over The Contract (and some other stuff 😉). i would apologise for going "wait, what about if we did THIS...?" and accidentally turning our lovely self-contained demon au into an entire universe BUT that would be a lie. i am deeply in lesbians with your brain and ideas.

i can't pinpoint a specific fic (aside from some still unseen stuff) that you've had the most influence over but much like sy has, you've encouraged me to trust my instincts with my stories. oh and to never ever scrap a single piece of a wip, just to put it in the odds and ends section at the bottom 😉.

special shout outs go to @greatstormcat, @mortuarywriting, @dragonnarrative-writes, @eilidh-eternal, @ceilidho, @secretsynthetic, @sentientcave and so many other fantastic people that i've seen pop up in my notes just to cheer me on and grace us all with their fantastic writing. every single one of you that i've mentioned (and some people that i'm sure i've forgotten) have encouraged me to keep writing, or to be conscientious and considerate in regards to keeping this little corner of the fandom i inhabit a diverse and welcoming space to ALL readers. from the bottom of my very mushy heart, thank you 💜

Talk Shop Tuesday

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

if you're sitting there feeling sorry for yourself, wondering why no one's commented on your hiatus status(es), i'll help you figure out why

you're behaving like a selfish, entitled bitch. you're throwing a pity-me-party while you accuse people of favoritism in the same breath. like, no wonder your ~CoMmUniTy~ won't feel sorry for you, or interact with your bad artwork or your other uninspired bullshit when you bitchfit that no one's sharing your shit: no one wants to interact with that melodrama. there's better writers out there that don't cry about interaction bullshit.

you need to grow the fuck up, and maybe do people all a favor by not coming back.

Wow... thank you for sending me this present shortly before Christmas (Dec. 20th, to be exact). Real lovely stuff.

So listen while I break this down by section and say things later on that I don't mean:

If you're going to call me an 'entitled bitch' or criticize my content, you should really take ownership of your words like a grown-up first. You're welcome to those opinions, I suppose; but it means NOTHING when you send me this from a position of cowardice. If your goal was to hurt my feelings and upset me, I would only award you with partial congratulations, if that.

I'll concede it was a bit of a "bitchfit" if it makes you happy, because yes, it kind of was. I'll take ownership of that: I should have been better, and I wasn't. I should have been a lot calmer, and I wasn't.

Maybe then more people would have given a damn about me and what I had to say. Or maybe they wouldn't. I don't know anymore, quite frankly. I can't say I ever did.

Your point about "better writers out there [who] don't cry about interaction bullshit" is wrong, by the way. I can think of several fan writers (and I'm not going to compare content quality because that's gross) either on my dashboard or in fandom tags (many with larger followings + outreach than me) who've complained about lowered interaction these days at one time or another.

Or several times, even. It was largely and perfectly fine when they spoke up about it. Weird to me, anon, how it's okay when these unnamed and so-called "better writers" speak up, but not the little guys.

Some people are a little too comfortable telling those with smaller followings/outreach to just suck it up because interaction has been bad for everyone lately. Or placate themselves with excuses for why they didn't offer any sympathy to people who admit to struggling with feeling like belonging, or those wishing they felt more included. Noticed. Remembered. (Whatever the case may be.)

I mean I've seen who repeatedly makes the cut on these stale recommendation lists that float around… Your 'pool of so many talented writers/artists in this fandom' is more of a damn puddle. You'll have to fucking forgive me for just wishing to be remembered (for one or the other) and included in these little "~fandom enrichment activities~" at this point once in a damn while! Why's it such a fucking crime to you, anon, that I just want people to remember I'm here too?

I spoke my feelings about things feeling like a popularity contest rather than a true community back in December, and you thought that warrants calling me a selfish, entitled bitch? Telling me do people a favor and not come back?

What the fuck??????

I think you're something of a rancid tar pit for hoping to kick someone while they were down, or whatever it was you intended by all that. Did you get the warm and fuzzies typing this out? Did you feel good about yourself for choosing to be malicious to someone going through a hard time? Someone admitted they were going through a hard time between Seasonal Affective Disorder, and being upset about a lot of trivial stuff, and you thought "Hey; let's pile on!" was the correct solution rather than offer any kindness where you had witnessed a lack of?

It would be so tempting to stoop to your level and wish you nothing but ill on top of telling you to do me a favor and fuck off; I'm going to encourage you to learn to have a little more compassion for people instead and be a better person than whatever you are now going forward. May you learn to be kinder to people in the future, anon… You make the world a far better place that way.

[spinyfruit]

Welcome to Spiny 2.0! I was in the Hetalia fandom many years ago and recently found my way back to complete one fic. And then I caught Rusame brainrot, so I'm still here.

While Alfred and Ivan are my current faves, I like exploring different pairings such as Fruk, RusPru, and others (including the different dynamics of the pairings).

xx

Tag Guide:

void talk - personal or chatty posts I make about whatever

my fics - things that I write

fic rec - fics I like, fics I'm going to read

asks - answered asks

for the art gallery - tag for art + fanart that I like

fic request - fulfilled requests that I've done (different pairings)

xx

My Ao3!

Scroll down for more info + links to individual fics 🌷

xx

Oneshots + Tumblr Requests

King for a King - Ivan was still trying to catch his breath. His legs felt like jelly. He couldn’t possibly do what Alfred had in mind. “That’s right. I think it’s time for His Majesty’s riding lesson,” Alfred said, squeezing Ivan’s hips. “You need to show me how much you’ve improved.” (AmeRus, king x stable boy au)

Castle Among the Stars - Alfred is a dark knight who wants to win above all else. Ivan, a white knight, gives him a lesson on gentleness. (RusAme, knight au)

No Doting Allowed - Arthur had a horrible day and Francis actually makes it a little bit better. (FrUK, hurt/comfort)

everything i’ve ever let go of has clawmarks on it - Matthew goes home with some guy who laughs too hard and smokes too much. (PruCan)

angel eyes - Ivan will do anything to get back together with Tolys. (LietRus)

Skylight - “Alfred...is this your first time sleeping with a man?” “Yeah, of course!” Alfred laughs, seemingly unfazed. “I wouldn’t get much of a chance where I’m from. That would be shocking to say the least." (RusAme, Alien au)

xx

Multi-Chapters I’m updating:

Winterkeepers - Two alphas living and working in almost complete isolation. One of whom is extremely "sensitive." What could go wrong? (AmeRus, alpha/alpha abo)

xx

Collabs I'm updating:

Teeth of Flame - Alfred F. Jones is a 300-year-old vampire but rarely has he come across someone with blood as enticing as Ivan’s. Unfortunately, Ivan has his own secrets up his sleeves making it anyone’s guess who is the predator and who is the prey.

xx

Ongoing Series I’m updating:

Knights of Nonexistent Castles - Fantasy au. Centered around a war between the Sherwood Kingdom and the Kingdom Marianne.

Castle Made of Fire - Alfred and Matthew were born to be together. That’s what their father always said. Two sides of a coin, two halves of a whole, two knights of the king’s castle. (NA bros)

Castle Among the Stars - Alfred is a dark knight who wants to win above all else. Ivan, a white knight, gives him a lesson on gentleness.

Off-Color series - A human au that focuses on Alfred and Matthew (NA bros) as they navigate the foster system and go to high school in a suburban town.

Checkered - Katya shifted in her clogs. “Vanya, he looks hungry. Like really hungry,” she added. Then her voice dropped to a hush. “He has a black eye this time.” Ivan was silent for a while. “Where is he?”

Chasing Rainbows - Alfred goes to Ivan's chess tournament. Ivan goes to Alfred's baseball game.

Greener Side - Matthew and Jan have literally nothing in common. But they still like each other for some reason.

No Shrinking Violet - “Do you like me? You know, like like me?” Alfred said, slowing down to emphasize every word. Ivan’s flush spread to the roots of his hair.

Gray Area - Matthew knows he has to change foster homes, but that doesn't mean he's ready to leave.

xx

Completed Multi-Chapter Fics

Lonely Hearts series - A human AU centered around a small town in the UK. No one has an easy relationship—some have many—but eventually, they all find love. Main pairings include: RusPru, PruAus, RusAme.

Broken cigarettes and spilled beer - A casually suicidal German, a deeply traumatized Russian, and a dangerously obsessed Dane walk into a bar… and Arthur’s there too. (RusPru)

And if the fog never lifted - The infamous “Bad Touch Trio” have gone their separate ways, leading mostly separate lives. But one day Francis comes back to their old town, finding everyone and everything very much the same as when he left. Except that Gilbert is nowhere is to be found. (AusPru, RusPru, FrUK, Spamano)

Everything for the first time all over again - In a desperate attempt to get revenge on her older brother, Natalya runs off to America and finagles a naive (and wealthy) Alfred Jones into a rushed engagement. Ivan reluctantly follows to stop the marriage, and finds himself… a little bit intrigued by the American. So a game begins. (RusAme)

A (very hot and sexy) cold war - It’s been months since Alfred and Ivan were married and things are going great. Well, they're okay. There is this one annoying thing… But Alfred has a plan to fix it. Or: five times Alfred tried to top Ivan and failed, and the time he finally succeeded. (RusAme/AmeRus)

xx

I am going to occasionally open up to fic requests when I have extra time! I'm happy to write for many different pairings, but those that I like in particular include RusAme/Amerus, FrUK/UKFr, PruAus/AusPru, and RusPru/PruRus. I also like any of the family dynamics like NA bros, FACE, etc. Feel free to suggest other pairings, but I can't promise I will do them all. My writing brain is slow and picky these days.

[blackbird-brewster]

Thoughts About Tara Lewis (CM Evolution Spoilers)

Tara Lewis is Queer.

I woke up this morning and the SECOND I was conscious, I turned to my partner and said 'Tara Lewis is Queer'. I woke them up two times last night to tell them the same thing. I have echoed this thought back and forth to friends for hours.

It almost feels like if I don't constantly remind myself that Tara is now canonically queer, then maybe it isn't real. Maybe it was a dream. OR maybe it will be taken from us.

The thing about being in this fandom since 2005 is that I've lived a WHOLE lot of life in that time. I have been through relationships and divorces and insurmountable loss. I can't even count how many times I've moved in that time. I have struggled, I have flourished. All the while, Criminal Minds was a constant for me.

If you're newer to this fandom (Welcome!) then you might not FULLY grasp how wildly improbable it is to be able to say: Tara Lewis, a main character on Criminal Minds, is canonically queer.

When the show first aired I was in college, I had graduated HS an entire year early because the homophobia I faced was suffocating and genuinely dangerous. I was threatened all the time in my school. I came out when I was 15, in a small rural religious town. It was horrific.

I graduated HS and started college by age 17. Criminal Minds started around then and I loved it, because I was already a huge fan of crime dramas (SVU, TXF, Bones). It became a comfort show to me.

It continued to be a comfort show to be for nearly the past two decades. I remember waiting week to week to find out what happened next. Or waiting all summer to find out what happened after a cliffhanger. Or waiting each year for news on whether it was getting renewed or not, especially through the 2007 writer's strike when the fate of many TV shows felt so volatile and unsure. I remember watching the Valhalla arc and Emily's 'death' live. As each season came out on DVD box set, I would buy them and re-watch them (This was when Netflix was only dvd rentals and not streaming. Streaming wasn't even a concept then. We all just bough 8-disc DVD box sets and had to change the DVD every 3 episodes to binge a show)

I remember when the interview came out about how Emily was originally supposed to wake up in bed with a woman. I remember how devastating that was to me. Emily was my fave character back then (now she ties with Tara) and she had always felt gay to me and to find out she COULD have been canonically confirmed as gay but they killed that idea, was really hard. We didn't have a lot of wlw rep in media back then. The L Word was a trailblazing show but it's representations of wlw ultimately did WAY more harm than good (imo. I could write an entire thesis about how tLw really fucked up my entire understanding of what it means to be gay, but I digress)

I remember watching the way CBS treated AJ, Paget and Kirsten. I remember following articles talking about why the women were forced to leave the show while the men were celebrated and doted upon. (Reasons why I hate certain characters that are popular here iykyk)

The very first scene with Tara Lewis in S11 made my heart skip a beat. My soul was screaming 'SHES QUEER!!!! SHE HAS GOT TO BE QUEER!' even though I never once held my breath that would ever become CANON.

Here I am, still in this fandom, seventeen years later, and I get to say 'Tara Lewis is canonically queer' on a show that has gotten me through some of the hardest times in my life. On a show I turned to for comfort when everything felt like Too Much.

Because there is something so incredibly magical about seeing my favourite character and saying: Tara Lewis is Queer...and So Am I.

I know people are already like 'Emily was right there!?' or  'Why not make Emily queer!?' to those people I have one thing to say:

Please stop. Please stop and understand HOW important it is for TARA to be queer.

We have A CANONICALLY QUEER BLACK WOMAN IN HER 50s played by a sapphic actor. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW IMMINESLY RARE AND SPECIAL THAT IS?!?!? Do you have ANY idea of how IMPORTANT that is for representation?????

Emily Prentiss will never be confirmed queer in canon for many reasons. I have a LOT of thoughts about this, but that's not what this post is about.

This post is about celebrating one, extremely special fact.

And I couldn't be happier.

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

I simply wanna thank you and TG for existing. When I first interacted with the HotD fandom I wrote takes that made TB think I was against them when really I wasn't even that fully aware of this whole "Team" thing was about. Oh god the stuff I've been threatened with or the stuff I had wished on me. I seriously considered leaving the fandom. TG are rays of sunshine. They're way more welcoming to contrasting ideas and I felt so warm and fuzzy speaking to them even when we were arguing and not agreeing. At least no TG has ever wished on me that I fractured my other leg ever, you know.

So yeah, thanks for existing. You've gained a member.

First of all, I'm so sorry to hear you had to deal with hostility from certain members of the fandom. But it's great you decided to stay after all😊

Unfortunately, TB part of the fandom (overall) tends to be way more hostile and unpleasant than TG one, it's true. Still, you do you! I really hope you feel comfortable enough to share your thoughts, even if they might seem controversial, at least when you communicate with people who proved themselves to be nice and chill enough for that.

Nice Tumblring to you!😉

[hangesextra]

I remember I was laying on the couch in need of a new thing to love. It was January 27th 2023, and I was bored. I was going to go to my school's play in a bit before. I was on Instagram and saw some poster for a new show. I didn't think much of it, but looked again. I was like "Hmm that looks interesting." and I went to look it up. I found the idea more interesting. So after the play when I got home, I went and started the first episode.

Somehow, I automatically grew to love the series. It was that one thing I didn't know I needed. And I was so into the series, I loved every part of it. After watching the show, I know I had to read the books, and I did. I LOVED the books. I was so excited for the rest of the story in the show, I was so hopeful for a 2nd season.

But just today we got the news. The show was canceled, and I'm so sad about it. Like seriously, this series idk, I loved it and still do. It snuck up on me, Creeping straight into one of my favorite series ever.

I'm so mad at Netflix for this. They canceled such a good show and I despise that. But I do want to say, I'm so glad I had the chance to find the show. There was so much love and passion put into the show by Complete Fiction and their crew. The set, all of it. The casting was AMAZING, Ali, Ruby & Cameron just stole the show. They brought these wonderfully written characters to life. And Jonathan Stroud, who wrote this incredible series. I was blown away by all of it.

This has become my comfort series and it will stay my comfort series. It feels like a home somehow? I love it so much. <3

I just want to say tho, please I don't want to see this fandom die. It's an incredible fandom with such amazing people, who I'm so glad I met. You all make me smile and laugh. I love talking to everyone and sharing my ideas with fans who get it.

I want to still continue to do that, I've never really felt like I've belonged, but this fandom has been so welcoming, and truly I feel like I belong in this online community.

Let's continue making content and not die out, just bc stupid asf Netflix canceled it, doesn't mean we can't still love the series. Also let's hope another service can get the rights to show so we can MAYBE get another season.

[in-my-feels-probably]

hey there! i'm interested in getting option 2 for the 1.5k event. i would love the vampire diaries/the originals fandom.

pronouns: she/her

interested in being shipped with the boys

hobbies: singing in a band, reading fantasy novels, taking long naps, collecting things like stickers/journals/postcards, drawing, crocheting

i'm an INFJ Ravenclaw

i'm a very short redhead with blue gray eyes. common people i'm told i look like: lucy hale, florence pugh, hailee steinfeld, danielle campbell

personality time! (oh gosh)

i'm the type of person that people regard as being very well adjusted but honestly i'm having a mental breakdown most of the time.

i'm a deeply empathetic person, i care a lot about others and sometimes i forget to care for myself because of it. if someone i care about is in trouble, or needing my help, i will drop everything i'm doing to assist them. i also love sending care packages and letters to people.

i have taken in many of my friends throughout my life because they needed a place to stay. unfortunately, this aspect of my personality has also led to me being scorned many times (i see the good in people and tend to overlook the bad).

BECAUSE of that scorn though, i have developed some trust issues.

on the flip side of my sensitive/kind nature, i can be very feisty. when i'm frustrated i just want to beat up something, and i become very passionate towards injustice. my friends say i'm like a kitten with a knife.

additionally, i would consider myself a brave person. I don't struggle to have hard conversations with people (i don't like them but I'll do it), I've stood up to every bully I've ever had, and I've asked out every crush. unfortunately, this has led to me being rejected multiple times (contributing to my sense of no one ever being able to love me)

due to my trust issues and rejections, i tend to feel like an outsider in most of my friend groups. it can be very lonely.

TO FINISH IT OFF (this has become too long), i would consider myself a wise/intelligent person (i give good advice), resilient, but also easy going.

i'm a words of affirmation girlie, so i would love in a relationship to feel supported and welcome when i often don't feel accepted in a space.

i also would love someone who doesn't mind me going on about my hyperfixations for hours (which i will do when i get comfortable).

i'm also very touch starved but i will never initiate it (i like when my friends hug me but i will never go to hug them first).

hope that information was helpful! i realize i sound crazy

hi!

thanks for participating :)

i ship you with stefan!

i know damon is more of the collector type, but i feel like stefan is too when it comes to sentimental things. a lot of things he could collect would have bad memories attached to them if he got them in one of the periods his humanity was off. but, when he saw how much you liked collecting things, he’d attach new memories to them. he’d gift little things to you if you expressed interest in them, i totally think one of his love languages is gift giving.

stefan is also a really empathetic person. he’s directly protective of the ones he loves, and he’d admire that you’re the same way. he feels a lot for the people he cares for, even taking on their feelings as his own. he’d see that you felt as deeply as he did, and it would bring you closer together. knowing the signs of a breakdown because he’s all too used to having them himself, he’d be especially helpful for when you felt overwhelmed and anxious. and he’d know he could lean on you when he felt the same, knowing you were one of the only people who truly understood the complexity of those feelings.

hot take, but i think stefan is a glass half empty kind of guy. he’s has too much happen to him in his life to remain entirely optimistic. he puts on a good front, but you’d be able to see right through it. he’s quick to think of the worst case scenario—the good part of that being he’s always prepared to deal with it. and while he can he incredibly patient, he also has a short temper. but around you, he’d learn to control it. you’d make him feel like it was ok to try and have a better outlook on his life and circumstances.

he’d understand that life has made you a little reserved when it comes to learning to trust people. and he’d feel extra special when you let him in and let yourself be vulnerable with him. he’d also 100% be down to be with you and away from the group. while he enjoys hanging out with friends, he’d much rather be alone with you. when you needed a day to recharge, he’d be happy to give you it. but he’d never let you shut him out, and he’d never let you feel lonely. you’d be stuck with him for better or worse. quality time is another love language of his. he’d find it so endearing when you’d ramble on about your hobbies and interests. no matter what they were or how much he was or wasn’t interested in them, he’d be content to hear about them just because you enjoy them. and he’d be happy to join you with them.

i don’t think physical touch is that important to stefan. while he’d certainly enjoy hugging you and holding your hand and being close, he doesn’t need to. he’d never want to do anything that made you uncomfortable, and he’d be content just being in the same room as you. but he’d also be able to sense when you needed a hug, even if you didn’t ask for one. he’s so good with words, he’d make you feel comfortable enough to initiate touch with him yourself if you wanted to.

—

one perk of being a vampire nearly two centuries old is the sheer amount of journals he’d been able to collect over the years. one day, he’d take you to the library in the house full of books from various time periods. he’d show you a small section off in a corner that damon never bothered venturing over to full of leather bound journals—some filled, some empty. he’d pull a almost entirely blank one off the shelf, handing it to you.

he’d smile as you looked at him in amazement, gently flipping through the pages. “where did you get this? it’s beautiful.”

“chicago, 1929,” he’d recall, flipping it over to show you the initials carved into the spine. “i had a loft above this speakeasy there. it was left on the counter one night after close, and no one came to claim it. the bartender was about to throw it away before i got to it.”

you’d open the journal once more, your brows furrowing as you looked at the front page. “just this page was written in. and this isn’t your handwriting, so it must be from whoever left it behind. why didn’t you rip out this page and start it over? you kept it with you all these years just to never use it?”

he’d chuckle, glancing up at the shelf of journals tucked away. “i never needed to. i had plenty of others to use. it seemed like a waste.”

“why not throw it away if you planned on never using it?” you’d ask, holding it out for him to take.

“i don’t know. maybe i was waiting for the right person to come along. you’d certainly get more use out of it than me.”

your eyes would light up, making him smile. “you’re giving it to me?”

he’d nod, his eyes softening on you as you beamed up at him.

“baby, you could have the whole shelf if you wanted it.”

—

i don’t love how this turned out but i’m sleep deprived and i don’t wanna make you wait any longer, so here you go! i promise i’ll write something better next time if you’re here for 1.7k lol. thank you again for participating! i hope you enjoyed this :)

[missivesfromtroy]

Gestures and the Pride Jersey-Tape Thing

I guess I start by saying I speak for no one but myself, but with things continuing apace, the urge to say something has gotten quite strong, even if it's only to myself, here on Tumblr dot com. I don't have hockey friends, my family has no history of hockey fandom. I'm a weird hockey outlier in my own life, so if I want to talk about this, I don't really have anywhere to get into it, except online. So here I be. Not because others haven't said anything, or that good points haven't been made, but because I feel like the loudest voices, both for and against, have been people who - for lack of a better term - don't have much skin in the game.

I've been reading the comments for months, watching the jubilant trolls seize this topic and run with it, regurgitate every tired cliché, exult in this mask-off moment. I've watched people push back, make arguments - some good, some not so good - and express their honest disappointment. Over and over, I've seen some variation - from both sides - of "it's only a jersey, what's the big deal?" And that's not a terrible question, but it's a simple question with a very complicated answer, one that touches on something the people in the community (and in other minority groups) know as a multi-faceted issue and a representation of something more amorphous than a shirt or being told we're "welcome," whatever people seem to think that means. Namely, the gesture of it meant some assurance of safety. And that has been stripped away because corporate NHL is worried about the brand.

But how so, safety? Let me tell you a story. It's a personal anecdote and I'm not claiming it isn't. I'm also not claiming to know what the people in the story were thinking or intending. I'm not a mind-reader. I can only tell you how the incident affected me and my experience that night. I can only tell you how that reaction informs my approach to hockey and hockey fandom, layered on top of all my other apprehensions and perceptions of hockey and hockey fandom. Not as a matter of fear, but as a matter of self-preservation - defensive driving, if you will. A sort of lifestyle mindset that certain people and groups have to adopt to move through the world in order to minimize the interference of other people's disgust with who they are in their daily lives.

Because that's what it is: disgust. But we'll come back to that. Story first.

For some background, right around the time I felt comfortable coming out more widely as ace and gray-romantic, it was 2015. Around the same time, there was a huge spike of homophobic assaults in Dallas' gay neighborhoods. Those assaults, which continued well into at least 2017, were specifically targeted at the community and resulted in damaged storefronts and serious injuries like concussions, stabbings, fractured eye sockets and skulls, and even one person being thrown onto a fire.

(To my knowledge, the only people ever arrested in the years following were two men who pled guilty to a separate campaign of targeting men on Grindr for muggings and homophobic attacks. These assaults were said to be perpetrated by a range of people, not just one individual or group of individuals. Still, no arrests.)

Sure, I lived in Fort Worth at the time, a fifty-minute drive from the Oak Lawn neighborhood. But Fort Worth is also more conservative than Dallas per capita and just in general, culturally. And I was already well aware that my gender non-conforming appearance, mild as it was on the scale of gender nonconformity, was losing me jobs and getting me attention that was dismissive at best and outwardly hostile at not-best. So I was careful coming out. I could lose work at first - I made a gradual switch of my employers and clients to prevent this. I told individual people, but didn't broadly share my identity with social groups, especially ones that had folks in them who advertised their “Southern pride” or GOP perspectives. I wasn't fully out until I moved to LA. Not because hate doesn't happen here, but because it's less culturally tolerated and worker protections are worlds better. The community was bigger too, even for aces. The relief of not having to watch out for yourself quite so aggressively was immense. Imperfect, but an improvement.

A year ago, in the 2021-2022 season, I made a point of going to the Pride Night game for my hockey team, the LA Kings, playing the Nashville Predators. There were guests, a special free hat giveaway, a community member sang the anthem, and the players wore warm up jerseys and used rainbow tape during warmups. It was nice to see, "welcoming" in a tangential sort of way. It was a gesture - minimal, but a gesture nonetheless. Of course, the players were participating as much as the organization provided ways to participate and it was all an initiative, but we'll come back to why that still actually matters, even to someone as cynical as I am.

Some time in the second period, a pair of young women who were sitting along the glass in the next section over to my left got on the jumbotron. They seemed to be a couple, or at least enough of a couple that they kissed for a bit while on camera. They were young and attractive, seemed to be there deliberately for Pride night, and followed the kissing up with dancing together during the breaks in play. They got on the jumbotron for the dancing at least one more time.

I wouldn't have thought anything more about it except that I became aware in stages that a trio of men to my right — in my row, but a few seats away — had become...intensely interested. There were two older men, retirement age, and one younger man, probably in his 30s. They weren't, to my recollection, wearing team-specific gear.

Now, lots of men come to games in multi-generational groups or in just their street clothes from earlier in the day (it was a weekday), so that wasn't odd. And I’ve of course overheard the “joke” over and over when the audience engagement part of the ice crew comes out that this is some dude’s “favorite part of the game.” While these sorts of comments are tiresome in the extreme, I’m not clutching my pearls over here any time some guy decides everyone in the vicinity needs to know he finds twenty-something, tightly-clad women sexually attractive. (To the Kings’ credit, they also have male audience engagement ice crew members, and the actual ice crew is dressed casually post-pandemic.)

What was odd was that the older men had the younger man film the two young women dancing from where we were sitting. The younger man was also instructed to take a picture of a gay man — a VIP guest, I believe, but not one I recognized — who rode on one of the Zambonis between periods. There was also a LGBTQIA+ veteran there as the usual "Hero of the Game" honoree, who was shown at least once on the jumbotron dancing with his guests (who were wearing queer-coded outfits), he in his uniform and all, clearly having a good time. That sparked a spirited conversation amongst the men in my row, not all of which I could hear because, y'know, a loud stadium with a hockey game going on. It captured their attention, I'll say, rather than hazarding a guess as to what exactly their take was.

Essentially, these three men were paying a lot of attention to the people who were visibly queer at the Pride Night game. Now, I've reasoned with myself since that maybe the older gentlemen were themselves members of the community and were reacting with enthusiasm. (Why they’d want video of the girls dancing, though — well, that’s where that reassurance falls apart.) In the moment, I lost track entirely of the game in front of me and became very aware that I was at the game alone. And that I was in the same row as these men, who were paying undue attention to queer-presenting folks and even recording them specifically. Situational awareness red flags were going off left and right, is what I'm saying. Enough so that I made sure I was following them out after the end of the game and not the other way around. Enough so that I kept an eye on those young women until I saw them get out of the building. Enough that I made sure I kept moving with the crowd on the way back to my car. Enough that I can't even remember if the Kings even won that night, just those men and the wariness that colored the back half of the evening for me.

I do remember a kid on the jumbotron waving the cheaply made Pride night themed hat after a goal, his parents cheering in the background. I remember seeing lots of cis-het presenting people wearing those hats. I remember initially feeling like the crowd had shown up knowing what night it was and that it would be a predominately supportive environment. I remember a warm feeling going cold and sitting still and trying to not draw attention. I remember creating a couple of exit and emergency plans in my head if I needed them. Later, I remember considering trading games for the 2022-2023 season’s Pride night game and deciding against it, even before all of this began, even knowing I sit in a different section now and that I never saw those men again for the rest of that season. Still, I opted to trade for the Dustin Brown retirement night instead. And I remember regretting missing out on the amazing Pride night jerseys the Kings wore for 2023 — seriously, not making a small commercial run of those? C'mon, now.

(Much love to the season ticket holder who very clearly wore the jersey he got from this year's Pride night auction to seemingly every game of the rest of the season. Those jerseys were amazing and deserved to be seen.)

Now, there's a very real argument that nothing happened, that I might have been reading into things. The problem of course being that there was no way of knowing that for sure unless something really did go pear shaped in some way. But after growing up in Texas and spending a lot of my early adulthood there, I know as well as anyone that a lot of racism and queerphobia and xenophobia and even misogyny is quiet in public — it's attention paid and hushed conversation in undertones and scoffing quietly until the doors are closed. Right up until it isn’t. 

And that night, those men were giving that exact energy, whether or not they knew it or intended it that way. The recordings and photos taken rated a notch higher on the volume than usual and really tipped things over into a place I couldn't ignore.

And that's what I mean by "safety." That need to be on guard, to watch your back, and to spend more of your mental capacity at any given moment waiting for someone to lash out at you because, on some level that you can't control, they think that you deserve it. A lot of folks would assert that safety was never really at issue here, that I am making a mountain of a molehill. Fair enough, but that's exactly where the gestures and the Pride nights and the jerseys and the pride tape come in, if you'll stick with me.

There's a great episode of the first season of Welcome to Wrexham that deals with the masculinity and multi-generational bonding that is pro sports for its fans. It talks about how, for lots of men, they experience their highest of highs, their core formative male bonding moments with fathers and grandfathers and uncles, and are allowed to express their lowest lows in the context of sports fandom. It's an interesting thesis, though obviously incomplete in some ways. I'd say one of the incompletions has to do with the valorization of the players themselves as archetypes of ideal manhood.

Young, in peak physical condition, revered for their toughness and grit and highly specialized skill sets, often wealthy (at the highest levels of the sport, as in the NHL), well-dressed but still physically imposing, locally famous and in demand, with the perceived ability to sleep with, date, and marry the most beautiful of women and support their families to lavish, affluent lifestyles. Is this not the idealized modern North American man?

I think we can all generally agree that folks flock to sports fandom not just for love of the game, but for all sorts of reasons. One of those reasons is because it is a form of storytelling about how life could be, a sort of modern adventuring lifestyle that falls in line with all the things we tell men and boys they should try to become.

Now, of course, this manifests differently depending on age and other factors. Little kids, especially kids who play hockey, make heroes of players in different ways and for different reasons than teens and adults. Little kids, after all, value different things when they evaluate "coolness" than do teens and adults. For our purposes here, then, let's leave the hero worship of small children and kids aside and instead focus only on the ways in which players are role models to teens and adults.

In some ways, it's not quite fair that we make role models out of very young men, barely out of their own childhoods, who've spent much of at least the last ten years of their lives primarily focused on physical supremacy in their chosen sport. They won't have met many people or had many experiences outside that arena, though they may indeed have — strictly speaking — done more traveling and working shoulder-to-shoulder with people from other parts of the world than their average age mate. But we can all agree those engagements are still within the insular realm of hockey, where everything is pulling in that one direction.

They're asked to grow up fast in some ways while simultaneously living in a social bubble of sports, sports culture, and sports people. Still, young pro athletes have hit the lottery of time, resources, and genetics to enter a tiny, highly competitive professional field in the, let's face it, wider entertainment industry. That comes with a degree of public interest in and attention to their choices, actions, and behaviors. They become role models and idols by mere virtue of the fact that they are highly visible to the public and have more access to a broad platform. Players advertise things quite literally at times - gear and services and such, obviously. Sometimes, that's by virtue of team level contracts and sometimes, they are individually contracted as spokespeople.

None of this is new information, but I can hear the furious clacking of keyboards now, in a comment section somewhere on The Athletic or Deadspin, confidently asserting that "if you make decisions based off what a player does, then you're an idiot." This is the standard rebuttal to the argument that entertainment public figures like actors, musicians, pro players, etc. are role models; that to be influenced by a public figure is foolish. It is, of course, quite a foolish assertion in itself. It leans on the practical understanding that to literally and unthinkingly do what someone tells you is foolish, while ignoring that the vast majority of decisions people make, even just around sports fandom — like which jersey number to buy, as a for instance — are highly influenced decisions.

Sure, your personal taste comes into play, but there's a reason advertisers pay to have their logo on the ice or to have an deer-in-the-headlights 24 year old winger deliver a line of ad copy in his flat-est monotone against a white background. It's because they lend a sense of legitimacy to the brand, a sense of authenticity. Hospitals and insurance companies pay AEG top dollar to heavily imply that the LA Kings players get their medical services. That kind of bump, over and over again, says that "hey, these guys who need to be in top physical condition and often get injured, well they vouch as a team for this medical system. Maybe that'll work for me." We all know this is happening, all the time. There's no shame in being influenced, but so too is there no honesty in pretending that there isn't influence being traded on.

So, here are these young men — archetypical ideals according to Western standards of wealthy, predominately white, young, heterosexual, “red-blooded” men who have a physical-but-cool job and access to absurd resources and beautiful women — and the teens and adults who watch them track their stats, their accomplishments, their successes. In a lot of ways, they're interchangeable to the wider fanbase, especially as stat-tracking has become ascendant. Still, and very much in hockey specifically, there is a culture that projects goodness and a specific kind of virtue onto these players. There is an admiration that fans and the public more generally have for players. Team social media posts their outfits, their workouts, their relationships. It is not the hero worship of children, but they are role models for their adolescent and adult fans all the same. Their approval, for lack of a better word, comes to matter, comes to model what is cool, what is good, what is acceptable.

You see where I’m going with this? A player, wearing a jersey, says “this is acceptable.” A player, wrapping his stick in Pride tape, says to that audience of teens and adults, “hey, don’t be a dick, because these people are acceptable.” It says that disgust and displays of disgust are not acceptable. (There's that word again!) Sure, he only does it for a couple of minutes on an unaired portion of the in-arena game night production, but it says to those three guys to my right on that Pride Night, “hey, you won’t be in step with us players and the team as an institution if you bring homophobia to the table with your fandom.” It says to people in the community, “hey, you don’t have to keep your interest in the team at home, you can be enthusiastic about hockey without fear of backlash that you’re not ‘right’ for the sport.”

Is that a flimsy assurance when said aloud? Sure. The truth of the message is paper thin even on a good day when you pressure test it in the real world of the men’s hockey universe. But we’re talking about the unspoken conversations that happen around the appearance of inclusion and welcome. The appearance of welcome is a powerful thing when it comes to increasing the level of safety the community feels in approaching hockey in-person. Because that appearance acts as an unspoken buffer; it says “if you jump the queer person in your row after the game because they don’t ‘belong,’ we the team might take your in-person hockey rights away because we align with being welcoming.” The conglomerates running the hockey teams decided to align with being welcoming rather than exclusive and openly disgusted by diversity because they want revenue from every kind of group they can get — what is capitalism if not the pursuit of endless growth, amirite? But the players, the coaches, the staff — they can, if they choose, use their platform provided by the late-stage capitalism of the sports entertainment industry, be visible examples of the welcome provided to anyone who enjoys the sport. They can provide that extra incentive, with their unspoken indication of acceptability, to not be a dick outwardly, even if you’re a dick inwardly. And that makes the community safer, even beyond the realm of hockey, because these men are the ideal, right? 

If your heroic ideal of manhood says being a dick isn’t part of the ideal, well, some people will still be dicks. There were plenty of apologists during this whole conversation that declared with their whole chests that they don’t think any of the current hockey players really believe in broad acceptance or inclusion — they are, as the assertion goes, just putting on the uniform handed to them and making nice for the cameras because it gets butts in seats, which is part of their job. 

And yeah, that’s probably true for a lot of the guys on a lot of the nights. “Here’s a St. Patrick’s jersey, have a great game, Kopi, our proud Slovenian captain.” I’m sure Kopi pulls the sweater on and then off again for most of these theme nights while running game strategy in his head and thinking no more about it, kind of like all of the non-American, non-Canadian players stand during the national anthems trying not to be too obvious that they’re just waiting to get going and hoping their muscles don’t start to cool as they all stand around for a few minutes listening to someone warble out an anthem they don’t identify with. 

And, in specific terms for the Pride jersey brouhaha, don’t think it escaped my notice that Vladislav Gavrikov wore a Pride jersey in Philly the night of Provorov’s abstention and then wore a Pride jersey again after being traded to the Kings a few weeks later — all without a peep. I don’t have any idea what his personal opinions are, except that he wasn’t taking it personally or publicly that he was asked to participate on either occasion.

These things are gimmicks a lot of the time, a way to spice up the in-arena production and reach out to other communities in the host team’s city. That’s not a bad thing. It’s just a thing. Going to a pro game with no bells and whistles at all, on the production level of a kids’ municipal soccer team match, wouldn’t justify the ticket price. They have to make it an event, but that event needs to draw in the curious and the on-the-fence, not just the die-hards. Which means you need to make a gesture to those groups that aren't already bought in, or who are rightly wary of your in-group culture.

But we also live in a culture that highly esteems authenticity, so there needs to be more than a vague gesture — which is where the outreach and the initiatives come in. You couldn’t just say “Hockey fights cancer,” and do nothing else about that statement. It would be insincere in the extreme, right? So there’s a fundraiser, there’s outreach to the communities affected, there’s visibility for survivors — there’s some authenticity to the gesture, even if, at the end of the day, it’s a corporate gesture. 

So, a level of authenticity in the gesture and the idealized image demonstrating acceptance. This is what the Pride jerseys and the Pride tape mean. They mean, in the simplest terms, a visible lack of disgust for difference. Are they incomplete efforts? Yes, but they are efforts. They are a projection of safety — of the intention of safety — for the community to join in the sport of hockey in public. That’s so very far from nothing, and the loss is substantial when they’re taken away from the most visible part of hockey: the players on ice. 

So here's where we get back to disgust. The thing that drives, for instance, the 2015-2017 homophobic attacks in Dallas, the 2010s serial killer of gay men in Toronto, and others, is cultivated disgust that has been set loose and targeted at someone who does not conform to whatever is the attacker's idealized way of life. This disgust is taught, but it always needs a catalyst or an excuse to be expressed. So, here comes religion, politics, or a desire for unchallenging homogeneity to preserve an artificial sense of order. Whoever fails to adhere becomes an object of encouraged disgust.

So now we have an excuse (and often the originating instruction itself) for the disgust to act itself out, for the "other" to be punished with everything from ostracization to outright violence. This seems extreme? Consider Reimer's bland Evangelical-Christianese statement trying, as is so often the case, to have it both ways:

"...I have no hate in my heart for anyone and I have always strived [sic] to treat everyone that I encounter with respect and kindness. In this specific instance, I am choosing not to endorse something that is counter to my personal convictions which are based on the Bible, the highest authority in my life. I strongly believe that every person has value and worth and the LGBTQIA+ community, like all others, should be welcomed in all aspects of the game of hockey."

In essence: I love everybody and I respect everybody, but I just can't get behind wearing this jersey. Right? But the thing is, if you're allowing your disgust, however latent or unacknowledged, to dictate to you that you may be intolerant of the acceptance or the presence of the outward visibility of another group of people, then that's ultimately intolerance. You can't make the rational argument that it isn't.

(And before anybody jumps down my craw about "oh, well, it's always progressive people who want tolerance, but then are intolerant to those who don't agree," listen, bud. You and I are neither of us going to pretend you haven't heard of the Paradox of Tolerance on Tumblr dot com. Let's not be silly.)

Now, I think I speak with a lot of marginalized folks of one kind or another that we would rather have the James Reimer statement, that players self-identify as someone who is ultimately intolerant — someone who harbors this unchallenged disgust — than to be given a sugar coating of sameness and a big branded curtain for all individual beliefs to hide behind. I'm all for continuing to wear jerseys and individual players just opting out of wearing the themed jerseys during warm-ups and wearing their game jersey instead. If that's what the players want to do, by all means, tell me that you harbor this deep-seated disgust for who I am or who someone else is and that we are not adhering to your idealized concept of the "correct" way to be human.

But, in this effort by Bettman and Co. to protect and shield the NHL from any possible scandal or discussion of difference or question of professed ideals for the industry by simply refusing to acknowledge that friction may exist, Bettman has — in effect — done exactly what the Paradox of Tolerance grapples with. He has allowed intolerance to take over the supposedly tolerant atmosphere and win out over a model of broad acceptance.

And all of this in an effort to keep players from being individuals with individual personalities and beliefs that might challenge the primacy of the NHL brand overall. The community loses safety for the maintenance of a corporate brand. Every community loses inclusion, acceptance, and safety for the maintenance of a corporate brand. That’s the bit to get cynical over; not the fact that they ever made the gesture in the first place, but that the brand, the cup, the club is so flimsy that it can’t take the individualism of the players employed by it.

People would much rather know from a player abstaining from a special jersey during warm-ups, unpunished by fines but still visible, whether they’re safe with them, rather than for the NHL to cover everyone up and make fandom for marginalized folks an absolute crap shoot again for the sake of the brand. Since we were talking about unspoken gestures before, this too is an unspoken gesture — that queer people in particular are less important than the brand, and that the NHL’s professed commitment to broad inclusion is as flimsy as wet cardboard in a hurricane. 

And it’s not just fans who are hearing that — it’s players too, current and future. Why struggle against an obviously antagonistic tide in hockey if there’s no commitment, even just a gesture, to your safety  and acceptability within the sport? Lots of players of various communities have fought back against that tide and succeeded, but so, so many have given up and walked away. It should be a little less cute and little more concerning how many dynasties and sibling groups are in the NHL. It’s a ready indication that the pool of pro candidates hasn’t gotten all that much wider in the last twenty, thirty years. The next twenty aren’t looking all that much better at present.

And, if it needs saying, Bettman and Co. have also stripped out players' ability to express their tolerance and enthusiasm for diversity in the sport. Players no longer have the ability to do the most visible part of the supposed gesture of NHL tolerance, the "hockey is for everyone" demonstration, however limited it was. If the players, at least a handful of them, aren't buying in, then shut it all down and revert to the ironclad homogeneity of the NHL as squeaky clean, predominately white "good ol' boys" who never have a public-facing opinion that isn't in hockey PR speak. Individualism is dead from all sides and all we got is this lousy t-shirt. Oh, wait.

Although we know that's breaking down anyway. Although we've already heard individual players don't want to be gagged on this subject or on any of the other community subjects. I have to imagine the Hockey Diversity Alliance isn't liking the headwinds coming out of this kerfuffle.

But what about players being "cancelled," you say? First, point me to a person who's actually been cancelled. Second, it is impossible for a minority group of fans to do anything to these guys except not like them. They're all insulated within the hockey world. Nothing that gets said is going to really rattle that insulation. Sure, there could be one crazy outlier, but for the most part, these dudes probably wouldn't even notice a difference.

And, as to the "keep politics out of sports" argument: being alive is political. If you haven't figured that out yet, it's because the politics of life have mostly been in your favor up to this point. Maybe look around a bit and figure that glaringly obvious reality out for yourself.

So sure, it’s just a shirt. Sure, it’s just tape. Why does it matter? It matters because it’s a huge step back. It matters because it rescinds the most important part of the gesture — that the team will use their platform and briefly model the acceptability of diverse people into the sport. Everything else is happening offscreen, if you will. It’s big tax-deductible checks and handshakes and press releases, most of which the fans never look at, hear about, or pay attention to. But the players, if they choose, could be highly visible, could participate in the loudest gesture the NHL seems capable of making — that of the players making practice shots while studiously ignoring fans for ten minutes — and the NHL brand got scared by any indication that their players might be individuals and took that away.

So yeah, it matters. And it is extremely disheartening that 7 dudes just made the whole prospect of going to games that much more dicey for people in marginalized communities, especially the queer community.

TL;DR  Gary Bettman sucks.

[nightingaleflow]

His Dream

Fandom: Naruto Word Count: 1.9k Rating: T Pairing: Rock Lee x Nezumi Chisaki (OC), past one-sided Rock Lee x Sakura Summary: Rock Lee suffers from the after effects of the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, very mild sexual implication.

A/N: When I read Human Weakness, one of the ideas that stuck with me was that the Infinite Tsukuyomi didn't entirely end after the War and people still have dreams influenced by it. I decided to take that idea and add onto it.

I also really wanted to write another NezuLee fic so here we are.

This fic is a bit later down the line than the other ones I've written for them so far. They're still just dating (not engaged/married/etc), but they've moved in together. And obviously, Nezumi's not nearly as nervous around him as she used to be.

And, usual reminder, Nezumi calls him by his first name.

Enjoy. <3

AO3 Link

~

Many years ago, Lee fell under the spell of a blood-red moon.

The Infinite Tsukuyomi delivered as promised and gave Lee everything he wanted within the space of his own mind. Victory over his rivals. Notoriety as a splendid ninja. And best of all, the love of Sakura Haruno, who he thought was the most beautiful woman in existence. She felt so strong and yet so soft in his arms. She pressed hungry kisses along his skin, whispering in his ear that she was his.

When he awakened, he was among the people that cursed the return to reality.

Adjusting to life after the Tsukuyomi was surreal. Many had trouble adjusting back to reality. Some even refused to let the dream world go and sought to make their visions, however elaborate or illogical, come true. Lee had been one of them, seeking out Sakura once the dust had settled and asking her out.

Unfortunately, real life did not bend to his wishes. Lee once again found himself turned down, albeit more politely than the first time.

He of course respected her wishes, accepting her friendship and reiterating that he would still be there for her if she ever needed him.

But that didn’t stop the sting of rejection from creeping into his heart, nor did it stop the Tsukuyomi from continuing to curse his dreams. Several nights after that, Lee would find himself back in that dream world. The Sakura in his dreams would welcome him with open arms, caress him with hands as cool as a flowing river, breathe Lee-kun in his ear before their lips connected and their limbs tangled.

The sun would then return him to the real world, ripping the scabs from his emotional wounds and bringing a fresh stab of pain to his heart.

He tried to stop the dreams. He learned to recognize when he was having them and pushed away the visions, telling the dream Sakura that none of this was real. But the harder he resisted them, the darker the dreams got. Sakura went from the strong but loving woman he knew in real life to a cruel tormentor, telling him that this was the best he could do and that no one would ever really love him, so he should just give in and accept the dreams.

He told no one. Sakura did not need to be burdened with the effects of his yearning anymore than she already had. Tenten was deep in mourning for Neji. Guy-sensei was busy with his recovery. And while he valued the rest of his friends, he didn’t feel that this was something they needed to be burdened with.

So he endured the dreams in silence. 

He even told himself that they were a blessing of sorts.

After all, they were the only way he could ever be with a woman he loved.

~

“You know why I’m here, Lee-kun. You want someone to love you. Well, here I am.”

“No, this is not what I want. Please, go away and do not return.”

“You can lie to yourself all you want, Lee-kun, but I know you better. You want this. It’s the only way anyone will ever love you…”

Lee woke up with a start.

He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes before looking around. He was in his bed, his black hair messy from sleep. His scarred chest was exposed to the dim light, his lower half covered by a green comforter. Dim light from the moon came through a window, barely illuminating the furniture around the room.

His leg brushed against something warm. He looked down to see his girlfriend, Nezumi, curled up with her back towards him. Her mousy brown hair was sprawled against the pillow. The green comforter covered her up to her shoulders, where the frilly pink strap of her camisole peaked out.

She had been scheduled to work until 1:00 am at the hospital. Lee had tried to wait up for her, but he had just returned from a mission the day before and had spent the entire day training to make up for the time lost while he was away. As a result, he was exhausted, and had passed out long before she joined him in their bed.

He silently told himself he would run 500 laps on his hands and buy her a bouquet tomorrow to make up for it.

For now, though, he slid closer to her. He gently draped one arm over her waist while the other slipped under her neck. He then pressed his chest against her back. He closed his eyes, letting her warmth wash over him.

He felt a slight movement in his arms. “Rock?” Nezumi asked, her voice thick with sleep.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to wake you,” he whispered.

“It’s ok,” she replied. “Is everything all right?”

Lee hesitated before answering, trying to form the right words to say before he said them. Nezumi’s hand found his arm in the dark, her fingers drawing gentle circles on his skin.

“I had a dream that I did not like,” Lee finally said.

“I’m sorry,” Nezumi said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Right now, I would just like to hold you, if that is ok.”

“Of course,” Nezumi said. She pressed back against him, adjusting until their bodies were touching the whole way down. She then rested her arm on top of his.

Emotions flooded his heart as tears stung his eyes. He pressed his forehead against her hair, inhaling the floral scent from her shampoo. His grip on her tightened, his arms trembling.

“Hey, hey,” Nezumi soothed. She lifted his hand and kissed his fingers. “It’s ok. Whatever it was, it’s over and done with. You’re here with me. You’re safe.”

God, what had he done to deserve her?

“...It was a dream from the Tsukuyomi,” he said, emotion still making his voice falter. “I have had quite a few of them, though this is the first in some time.”

Nezumi’s head tilted back towards him.

“I have tried to make them stop, but nothing seemed to work. And if I resist the dream, it becomes dark and hostile.”

Nezumi let out a humming sound. “May I ask what the dream was about?”

“I…do not think you would like to hear the details,” Lee said, shame creeping up inside him as he pressed his head against hers. “It would make you uncomfortable, I think.”

Nezumi rolled over in his arms until she was facing him. She reached up to his face and rested her palm on his cheek. “I’m ok to listen if you’re ok to tell,” she said, stroking his skin with her thumb.

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Ok,” he said. “Nezumi, before I start, please understand that I love you, and that you are the one I want to be with.”

Nezumi’s eyes widened. “Ok.”

“And…” Lee’s voice shook. “I have not shared this with anyone before, so please bear with me.”

“Of course. Take as much time as you need.”

He could have kissed her.

“Back during the War, as you know, I had feelings for Sakura,” he said. “So when I was trapped in the Tsukuyomi, I dreamed about her.”

Nezumi nodded. He had told her about his previous feelings for Sakura a long time ago, so she wasn’t the least bit surprised by this information.

“But even after the Tsukuyomi ended, it was like a piece of it remained in my head,” he said. “I keep dreaming about it. I have tried to make it stop, but doing so seems to...corrupt the dream, I suppose.”

Nezumi tilted her head.

“If I do not go along with the dream, it taunts me. It tells me that I am lying to myself, that those things are what I really want…and that those dreams are the only way I will ever experience love, and I am a fool to think otherwise.”

The next thing he knew, Nezumi’s arms were wrapped around him. 

Lee let out a choked gasp, then pulled her tightly to him. He clung to her as if she would blow away with a puff of wind.

“I’m so sorry,” Nezumi said, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“There is no need for you to apologize, Nezumi,” Lee said. “You have done nothing wrong.”

“Maybe not, but still…” Nezumi replied. She looked up at him. “I don’t like seeing you hurting, Rock. I love you, and I want to help you.”

I love you.

The phrase settled in Lee's heart. Tears flowed from his eyes unchecked.

“I love you too, Nezumi,” he said. “Which is why I do not understand these dreams now. Why do they persist so many years later, and why do they now show me something that I do not want?”

Nezumi hummed in thought. “I’m not sure about the second question,” she said. “But as to the first, the Tsukuyomi seemed to have left an imprint in the minds of those who were under it. We’ve had quite a few people come to the hospital because of it.”

Lee blinked. “I’m…not the only one?”

Nezumi shook her head. “Hardly. It’s quite common, actually. Although you’re the first I’ve heard about where the dreams become corrupted.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “All the people I’ve worked with just let the dream play out, and then deal with the return to reality in the morning. None of them resisted. So...it’s possible that the Tsukuyomi has a fail-safe that prevents you from escaping even if you figure out what’s going on.”

“Is there a way to stop it?” Lee asked.

“Possibly,” Nezumi said. “It’s a work in progress, but I’ve actually been working with Ino to find a way to get rid of the imprint. Extraction is still out of our reach, but we’ve perfected locating and isolating it, so it’s only a matter of time.” She smiled at him. “If you’re up for it, you can always come by and work with us. Who knows? Maybe the fact that you can resist it will help us solve the rest of the puzzle.”

He had no words. He stared at her, her soft brown eyes unjudging and sincere. His heart fluttered, feeling as though he was falling for her all over again.

He tilted his head down and kissed her, desperately hoping she could feel everything he poured into it. Relief. Gratitude. Love.

Nezumi smiled against him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him back, and Lee could feel his emotions mirrored back to him.

Much too soon for his liking, she pulled back, letting them catch their breath. “I take it that’s a yes?” she asked.

Lee nodded. “Please.”

“You got it. We’ll talk more details in the morning though.” She kissed his forehead. “Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?”

“I will try,” Lee replied.

Nezumi leaned back and gestured for him to come to her. Lee obeyed, settling in her arms and resting his head on her shoulder.

She gently stroked his back. “If you need me, I’ll be right here.”

Lee nodded. “Thank you, Nezumi.”

She pressed one last kiss into his hair, then settled beneath him, still tenderly tracing circles on his skin.

Lee closed his eyes, feeling sleep start to reclaim him. As he started to drift away, he realized just how incorrect his Tsukuyomi dreams had been. 

Everything he wanted was already here in his arms.

~

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