Wish we could turn back time to when things were still okay.
Wish Techno was still here, and I wish Wilbur wasn't a shitty person.
I miss when there were four SBI. Permanently stuck at 2/4 now.
I'd rather say 2/3, actually. Wilbur doesn't deserve to be there.
Fuck Wilbur. I hope nothing else falls apart, I may not watch this side of mcyt anymore, but every time something happens, another piece of my inner child dies.
Condolences to everyone who grieves for Techno, to everyone that Wilbur hurt, and to everyone who feels like their world is crumbling because of all of this.
I miss when the dsmp was my comfort space. Sometimes, I wish I never got into the dsmp at all because of how all the recent incidents have affected me, but I ultimately don't think I regret it. The good memories are now tainted by bad, but that doesn't mean there's no good to be found. You're allowed to feel sad that it's over and a big mess now, but remember to be happy for the good it gave you then. Not all is bad, and you are not alone. I hope everyone, no matter who they are, remembers that.
You're allowed to feel sad about missing Wilbur, but remember that the person you are missing is who you thought he was, not really him. Wilbur Soot was a facade, and behind it was William Gold, who is a horrible person. This isn't about him, though. It is about Shelby and everyone else that he hurt and manipulated. To all of his ex-friends and family. He won't truly apologize for what he did, but I'm sorry he did it. I'm sorry for supporting a liar, I hope to never make that mistake again, but you can never know anymore who's real. I'm sorry that I still hear his songs in my head, I wish I could hear something else.
I still don't really know what to do with myself, and that's okay. I need to remember that one day I will. This isn't the end, and this is ultimately an enlightenment. I'd rather know about it than not, even if it makes me feel gross. This is only the end for Wilbur, which makes me glad. It's also a new beginning for everyone he hurt. It doesn't feel okay now, but recovery doesn't start off good, nor is it linear. It may not be okay right now, and it will never always be okay, but it will be okay again one day. I'm not ready to let go yet, but I will anyway, because that's the first step to learning to be okay. I'm sorry to Shubble, and everyone he lied to, including his fans. None of them deserved that. The people that he built his career off of didn't deserve that.
I don't know how to end this. I don't know how I started this. I just need to put this somewhere, or I'm going to lose my mind. I know logically I shouldn't've been this attached to him, but that doesn't change the fact that I was and that it hurts. I don't know how to feel. I don't know what to do. All I know is fuck Wilbur and support Shelby and his other victims.
I hope you can have a good day/night despite all of this, but if not, that's okay. Remind yourself that you will have good days again. Just have to wait for them.
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good evening, all. it is May the 25th. our lilacs are blooming, just as the ones at the Watch House did. and I am thinking about remembrance of the fallen, and GNU, and the love in commemoration.
y'know, I read Night Watch… oh, maybe a year ago and some months ago. and the lilac symbolism, the remembrance of the Watch, has always struck me with the depth of the emotion of it, the tangibility of it in the flowers. but I wasn't aware that today was the day until I saw commemorative posts, all that gorgeous artwork and more, on my dash.
I was also not aware, until now, that fans commemorated the day not only because of the book reference, but in support of Terry Pratchett and of those with Alzheimer's. which knocked me over a bit because of course, of course the group that would use GNU to honor him would do that. and… I've been thinking about GNU a lot, lately, and this caught me again.
I read Going Postal a bit ago, and reread it recently. both times, the parts about GNU made me tear up. this idea of the names, the memories, the lives of the clacks workers who dedicated themselves to ensuring that people heard each other's voices—all those names spoken again and again and again by that which they poured their souls into, winging along in the air as they could not, an eternal reminder that they were loved—how could that not touch a person's heart?
when I found out that fans online used it to memorialize him, I damn well cried. hell, I still tear up just thinking about it. do you know, there's a code for an HTTP header "X-Clacks-Overhead: GNU Terry Pratchett" written by Reddit users to put in webpages, where it goes unseen by the average user? and in 2015, when Netcraft took a survey, there were eighty-four thousand websites using it? it's eight years later—how many thousands upon thousands of websites have this now, do you think? how many little cables of light has his name flown along, now? how many times?
that alone is absurdly and unimaginably lovely in its own right, but… there's something else to it. there's something about remembering with the lilac sprigs every year, just as Vimes and those who were there remembered their dead. something about how, when we take up our lilac sprigs, we carry a little piece of the characters in our hearts, too. I kept trying to put my finger on why that makes me tear up the way it does. the conclusion I came to is this:
what greater way to honor a writer is there, but to honor them the way they did the characters they poured their heart and soul into? what better way to say we know you and you are not forgotten and your work and words and gifts to the world are held in our hearts forever than to remember them by their own words, their own vision? how else could we say you embodied all the good you believed in and wished to see in the world, but to memorialize them after the little pieces of their soul they wrapped in ink and put upon the page?
it is a knowing of the writer, to remember them in their way. it is not a worn-out faceless platitude, but a reminder that their work has been read and will continue to be, that the characters and world they loved enough to bring to life last just as their name does. such remembrance is warm and loving and delights in their memory even as it grieves.
and now Pratchett's name has been written in his tradition, over and over and over, across the vast plane of the Internet, where it will—with any luck—continue to fly for generations to come.
there is no way to truly express the beauty of that… but perhaps we can catch a glimpse of it in the lilacs, both ours and the Watch's.
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FIC REC FRIDAY #4
ad aeternam. by darkness_shows_the_stars / @stars-and-darkness
His eyes are intent on her. They always are, but never so strong, never so scorching, as when he’s needling for information she’d rather not give.
“I want you to come and …” She sighs. This is more difficult than she had expected it to be, and that’s saying something. She’d expected it to be like pulling teeth, but the feeling is more akin to ripping off an arm. “I want you to come and pretendtodateme.”
There. Done. That wasn’t so hard, was it?
No, not at all.
Klaus’s face smooths over, washed of all emotion. “Would you mind repeating that?”
Guys. Listen. I don't go searching for fake dating AUs. Mostly because I'm not a fan of human AUs. When I'm reading klaroline fanfiction, I'm here for the fantasy element, the age old hybrid falling in love with the blonde baby vampire. Therefore, fake dating AUs just don't really blip up on my radar. But. Guys. Guys. THIS FIC ALRIGHT. THIS FIC HAS OVERHAULED MY ENTIRE BELIEF SYSTEM???? LIKE? IT'S POST-CANON DIVERGENCE???????? YET A FAKE DATING AU????????????? DO YOU SEE THE QUESTION MARKS HERE IT DIDN'T EVEN OCCUR TO ME THIS COULD BE A THING AND YET IT IS AND IT IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CREATION TO EVER EXIST?
Anyways. Yeah, go read it.
OR I AM DISOWNING ALL OF YOU
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