#i mostly just want to archive it for my own memories

[mildmayfoxe]

i know everybody here's pretty gleeful about twitter going down but like idk man. that's my searchable diary of the past 11 years

#anytime i think about a memory i immediately search my own twitter account to see what i said about it at the time #i do this OFTEN #i'm not like a lot of other artists who have huge followings on twitter or anything but it's not inconsequential to my art livelihood eithe #but mostly i don't want to lose that as an archive of my thoughts #and i've met lots of really great people through it over the years #idk just sucks dude #chatpost

[mintchocodevi]

Home - Diluc x Reader

A/N: I'm relatively new to Tumblr, never really used it when I was younger, was mostly a Wattpad, Quotev, and now an Archive of Our Own user. This is being cross-posted from my AO3 account with a slightly different username. ANYWAY-- Let me know if you like this stuff, I'm more than happy to do requests (because I struggle to come up with things to write on my own). Summary: You've been in a relationship with Diluc for so long, but it seems like the spark has been lost. You're debating on if you can even call Mondstadt your home anymore. How will Diluc take to the news of you wanting to leave him and Mondstadt behind?

Characters: Diluc, AFAB Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut/Sex, Bittersweet, light plot with porn, not beta read what so ever I barely remember the contents of this fic bro I wrote it so long ago

The land of freedom. The ability to choose what you wanted to do, to not have to bend to the call of your archon. It was a blessing, compared to many other surrounding countries who couldn’t break from the shackles of their home land. Mondstadt was such a beautiful country. Wide open grass fields, tons of smiling faces and helpful friends. It was like a place out of a true fairy tale. But even then, why did the person you cared for most, seem so restrained, so isolated.

It had been a lovely day hours ago, sun shining, a light breeze causing dandelion seeds to dance across the sky and find their way to new homes. Children running about with a laugh, creating memories with whom they loved. During this time you simply watched, watched the seeds fly, the children run, vendors laugh as they spoke with their regular patrons. They looked so happy, full of life. They looked right at home, something that was slowly becoming foreign to you in this country. Sitting silently on the bench and watching church goers walk past, you begin to stop consciously watching everything. The conversations around you become buzzing in the background as you lower your head.

Mondstadt has been your home for so long. You grew up here, born and raised just like many other Mondstadt children. You found the love of your life here. Yet, over time, things had begun to slip through your fingers. Your partner, always stoic, doing as much as he can on his own, you wondered if he even loved you anymore. Small romantic gestures had faded over time, the whispers of affection you two shared behind closed doors that were once multiple times a day were now so far and few between. Oftentimes, it didn’t seem like he wanted to reciprocate the affection. You clenched your hands tightly while they were folded up in your lap as your heart stung. You loved him so much, you still do, no doubt still will till your life was nothing, but you wondered if he felt the same. The buzz of the background came back into focus as you felt a water droplet land on your nose and a shadow cast over you.

“It’s time to go,” he said. You looked up from your lap to see Diluc staring at you with his never ending melancholic expression. You stared into his eyes for a moment, doing your best to search them for any love, any recognition of desire in them before being unable to find anything. You gave him a small smile, standing from your position and dusting your clothes. You went to reach for his hand, wishing to lace your fingers or slide your hand into his glove just to feel the warmth of your partner. However, he turned and began walking before you could move much closer.

“It’s going to rain so we should hurry back to the house,” he said bluntly. You watched his back as he continued forward, not turning once to see if you were following. You brought your hand up to your chest and clenched your fist. Your chest burned with sorrow, simply lowering your head and following him quietly. Maybe, your anxiety was right. Maybe, he didn’t love you anymore. If that were the case, why did he keep you around? Why did he allow you to stay with him, sleep in the same bed? Was it fun to him? Was it some kind of sick game so he could see you crumble before him? You couldn’t figure it out anymore.

You watched Diluc’s back as you walked behind him. When was the last time you had actually walked beside him, instead of in his footsteps? The sky began to blur gray as if to mimic your emotions, once right behind Diluc you were now slowing your pace, struggling to find a desire to want to keep up with him. Eventually the occasional droplet became two, and then seven, a light shower, before an outright downpour. Silently you stood in front of the Dawn Winery, finding it so hard to move your feet. It was as if someone had tied lead to them, and allowed them to sink halfway into the mud below. The rain beat down on you like thousands of small marbles, rough, soaking your clothes and hair. At some point you couldn’t tell what was the rain, and what were tears. You scrunched up your face, clenched your hands and finally fell to your knees in the mud and rain, letting a choked out sob escape your lips. This was it, maybe it was time to go.

“Dear, what do you think you’re doing?!” A feminine voice cried.

You finally felt the rain no longer pelting your skin as an umbrella was raised over you, Adelinde quickly wrapping a large blanket around you and trying to help you up while Elzer held the umbrella above the two of you. Adelinde and Elzer quickly rushed you inside, Adelinde chastising you for being in the rain and mumbling about Diluc being careless, though you hardly understood what she was saying as they became background noise. They began running around you, carefully trying to help you dry off by gently rubbing your head with a towel and requesting clothes be brought to you from the other household staff. Eventually the running and the noise finally stopped, causing you to look up. You noticed Adelinde and Elzer staring at you with concerned looks, worry written across their faces.

“Dear are you alright?” Adelinde asked. Confused, you looked between the two of them before bringing your hand up to your face, feeling that your tears had not yet stopped falling despite coming in from the rain. Quickly you took the towel and wiped your eyes before smiling and waving your hands anxiously.

“Yes, I’m alright I promise! I don’t know what came over me!” You laughed softly, quickly trying to play it off in hopes they would believe your lie.

“In all my years of seeing you here, I have not once seen you cry for no reason,” Elzer spoke softly. You sighed, reaching out to take one of their hands each, squeezing it softly.

“I promise the both of you… I will be alright,” you whispered. You didn’t want to cause them any fear or concern. The problems you had were with Diluc and Diluc alone.

“Warm and clean clothes have been prepared for you in your room, if you’d like to get changed we can bring dinner up to you–”

“No I’d… Please, I’d like to have dinner with Diluc.” You cut Adelinde off abruptly. If this was how life was going to be, you decided that you would rip the bandage off now, rather than waiting.

Adelinde gave a hesitant nod, taking your hand gently and helping you up. Both she and Elzer helped you to your room, still wrapped firmly up in the blanket to keep you from possibly getting sick with your drenched clothing. Once to your room, they both gave you a lighthearted bow before walking away and allowing you to entire your room alone. Shuffling inside, you shed the massive blanket off your shoulders as soon as the door was closed, shivering as the air rushed at your soaking clothes. You quickly peeled all the wet layers off, before drying your skin, and gently sliding into the freshly cleaned linens. You looked at yourself in the mirror closely, and wondered what about you had changed to possibly turn your partner away. You hadn’t gained any weight, you frequently got your hair trimmed but never styled any differently. You always put effort into your appearance, not for him but because you felt you looked amazing with the time and effort put into your appearance. Was it maybe too much for him? Was your vanity something he was disgusted by?

You continued to do small twirls and twists, looking at every asset of yourself and wondering, had you changed something about yourself to cause him to no longer love you? However, your thoughts were eventually disrupted when a light knock came to your door, alerting you that dinner was ready and you could make your way to the dining room. You reached out, gently sliding on some house slippers before leaving your bedroom and joining Diluc for dinner. A small glance around the room and you couldn’t see any maids about, and you wondered if maybe Adelinde had known this was something you secretly needed right now. Alone time to talk to Diluc.

A large space sat between the two of you. Diluc sat there quietly, no longer wearing his large jacket and gloves, much more relaxed and at ease as he ate. You, however, sat there, simply staring at your plate. Despite the hungry feeling in your stomach, the food didn’t appeal to you. Nothing appealed to you in this moment, the air felt too thick, the food smelt too sweet, everything was simply overwhelming. Diluc shifted his eyes from the plate he was currently cutting into, only to see you sitting across the table staring at your plate with your head down. Not eating wasn’t like you, whatever Adelinde made you always loved, and in fact he was positive this was one of your favorite dishes.

“Is there something wrong,” he asked.

“No, not exactly,” you muttered. You began to dig at your hand nervously under the table, scratching the inside of your palm.

“So there is something wrong?” Diluc raised his eyebrow in confusion as he put his fork and knife down to give his full attention to you. You tensed in your seat when you looked up and locked eyes, it was as if he was staring knives into your heart.

“I think… I plan to leave Mondstandt.”

After that there was a long silence. You couldn’t read Diluc’s face at all. Despite knowing him for years, living with him, loving him, being unable to read Diluc’s face was just something you learned to accept. However, thoughts were racing through Diluc’s mind. You had never discussed wanting or even planning to leave Mondstadt. Plus, it wasn’t like he could go with you to protect you. He had the winery, and with the ‘Knights of Favonius Foolary’ hardly doing their job, he had to work double duty to protect the city. His hands originally above the table slowly lowered to his lap, sitting up the tiniest bit straighter as he focused on you.

“You know I wouldn’t be able to go with you,” he said.

“I’m aware.. I didn’t intend for you to follow or come with,” the last sentence left your lips in a whisper. Diluc clenched his fists under the table before clearing his throat.

“Well if that’s the case, do you know when you intended to leave and come back?” He kept up his poker face, relaxing his fists and deciding to go back to eat to not allow his emotions to show. He raised his fork to his lip and took another bite as you spoke.

“I don’t intend to come back… Because I don’t feel loved here anymore Diluc.”

Another dreadful silence filled the air as Diluc swallowed his food and watched you sit there. As soon as the sentence left your mouth it took you biting your tongue to not just suddenly unload all your feelings at him in this moment. You tilted your head back to look at the ceiling, your eyes stinging as they filled with tears wishing so desperately to fall.

“What do you mean you don’t feel loved?” His question finally broke the silence, along with the dam you had built up in your heart.

“You act like I’m any average citizen of Mondstadt these days. Even when we’re home, here, it’s like I don’t exist. You never tell me you love me anymore, I can’t hold your hand in public, it’s like you didn’t even recognize I wasn’t walking behind you anymore today! I was left out in the rain, I couldn’t bring myself to want to come in!” You raised your hands quickly as soon as you couldn’t fight the tears anymore.

While you fought to keep your face dry, furiously wiping your eyes as the tears flowed, Diluc sat there shocked by your words before allowing them to sink in. It hurt to hear you say such things to him and see you in such a state because thinking long enough about it, you were right. He had been neglecting you and your desires. All the little things you wanted, just some whispers and the smallest of attention. The hand holding you loved to share during walks, the whispers of affection and soft kisses of happiness behind closed doors. He couldn’t remember the last time he had shared moments like that with you. In those moments, Diluc felt he could smile, he knew he could be happy with you and yet right now here he was on the verge of losing you because of his mistakes. Planting his hands firmly on the table he stood from his seat and walked over to the other end of the table as you continued to cry and express your emotions.You were too busy crying into your own hands to even notice he had gotten up before feeling him take your hands.

You opened your eyes to stare down at your partner. This was possibly the first time in so long you had seen him wear an expression other than annoyance or melancholy. He had taken your hands into his and squeezed them tightly as he knelt to the floor, looking up at you with a look of empathy. For once his eyes were readable, the guilt he had, the sadness and disgust he had with himself at your declaration of pain. Diluc hated himself in this moment as he looked at your tear streaked face, knowing it was him who caused you to be like this. He lowered his head and brought your knuckles to his lips, kissing them ever so gingerly before looking up at you once more.

“You are the one thing in my life that has allowed me to feel something, to feel happy. I can’t believe I never saw how I took you for granted,” he whispered. He let go of one of your hands to now cup your cheek gently, running his thumb underneath your eye to wipe away the tears that still continued to fall.

“Do you still love me, at all?” You choked back a sob while getting the question out.

You shut your eyes tight, fearing the answer would be what you didn’t want to hear. You felt Diluc let go of your hands and heard him shifting his weight as if he was standing up. He was leaving you now, to sit back at his side of the table and tell you no, that he didn’t love you at all. That all of this was meaningless. However, it came as a delightful surprise when his fingers found the tip of your chin and tilted you up. Warm lips pressing against your and the sweet scent of grapes invading your senses. You looked up at your partner in surprise before lowering your lashes, raising one hand gently to grab hold of his arm, not wanting him to pull or run away. When he did pull away, he moved his hand from your chin to your cheek once more, caressing and holding your face close.

“I still love you as much as the day I first met you,” he whispered.

He was quick to dive back in for a gentle kiss, being as soft and tender with you as possible. You were fragile and hurt, he wanted to help you feel better but knew that, if you were truly tired of him and you didn’t want this, you had every right to pull away. Yet, you showed no desire to pull away. This was the closest you had felt to him in so long, you desired him closer. His hands against your cheeks were so warm, he was practically a radiator at times with how warm he got or felt the few times you held his hand or actually got to cuddle with him.You wished for his hands to touch you more, touch you in other places, but maybe that was too much wishful thinking.

“Then can’t you show and prove that to me?” It was meant to be a question, but between the both of you it sounded like a desperate plea.

Diluc was quick to sweep you off your feet, tucking one arm just beneath your shoulder blades and the other under your knees as he picked you up and held you to his chest. You quickly wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders for fear of being dropped or slipping from his grasp. However, you doubt that could actually happen, considering how effortlessly he could swing his claymore. Diluc squeezed you as close to his body as he could, his grasp firm yet gentle as he kissed you passionately, doing his best to silence the fears and anxieties that had built up over time in your heart. He wanted to do nothing but shower you in affection for hours. The last thing he would ever want is for you to leave him. Carefully, he carried you back to the room you both shared on the first floor, nudging the door open and closing it with his foot before laying you gently upon the bed you shared.

You stared up into his scarlet eyes, tears no longer sliding down the sides of your face but instead a gently rosy hue painting their way across your cheeks. It had been so long since he held you, kissed you even; it was bliss. You reached a tentative hand up to his cheek, brushing some of his free falling red locks out of his face to state up at him. The silence right now was no longer as thick or stuffy as before. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but more so uncertain. Diluc wanted to show you the passion you had pleaded for, but he didn’t want to if you didn’t want to be with him anymore and truly desired to move.

“I love you Diluc, so won’t you love me back,” you whispered to him softly.

You scanned his face, looking for any recognition of what you said in his eyes, and seemed to watch his expression soften. You could tell he was anxious, he didn’t want to hurt you or cause you any more pain than what you had already been feeling. Seeing him care, seeing the bits of proof that he did still love you felt like it could make you cry all over again. With your plea to be loved back, he leaned in once more to softly take your lips once more. Slowly, he crawled onto the bed, placing one knee on either side of your hips while placing his arms beside your head, trapping you beneath him. You raised her hands and placed them on his back, feeling the warmth of his skin through his thin white shirt, feeling it tingle your hands and almost course through your whole body.

Eventually he pulled away, a small pant leaving your lips before he moved to gently kiss along your jawline, moving his hands to slip underneath your blouse. He traced his fingers across your skin lightly, like a feather across the wind. It left a shiver up your spine and goosebumps to raise, causing you to turn your head slightly and squirm. Diluc took advantage of your head turn, placing his lips softly against your neck and beginning to suck as his hand slid up to your breast, gently running his thumb over your nipple and teasing it. You brought a hand up to your face in order to quickly cover your mouth, not wanting any of the maids or those nearby outside the room to hear any noises. Diluc appeared unbothered by this as he continued his gentle motions; chewing and sucking on your skin to leave behind noticeable hickeys and teasing your breast.

“I’ve always loved you,” he whispered. You pulled your hand away to look up at him. He had pulled away from your chest and neck to discard his shirt and pull his hair free from the band that was pulling it back. He took your hand gently from your lips and brought it to his, kissing your knuckles once more before leaning in close.

“I will continue to love you till the day our lives depart from this world, and I’m sorry, to have caused you such unbearable pain.” You watched him as he whispered against your knuckles, staring deep into his eyes and feeling your heart clench as he admitted his desires for you. Diluc was never a man of apologies. He hardly apologized to Jean, never to Kaeya, in this moment he was giving you his full sincerity and you knew it. He meant this.

After he let go of your hand, he helped remove your shirt so he would no longer have to fight with it. Leaning down, he placed gentle kisses along the top of your breasts and all across your chests. He was appreciating every inch of you, whether you begged for him to do this or not he was going to make sure you knew you were loved. Eventually the warmth of his lips found their way to the nipple he had teased moments ago. Slowly he stuck his tongue out and licked over it before swirling it in a circle, using one of his hands to give attention to the other. He used his thumb to gently push and rub your nipple in circles, groping your breast tenderly with the rest of his hand before gently pinching and pulling. As he teased your chest, you felt yourself beginning to squirm again. Digging your feet into the bed while clenching your legs closed as if trying to fight the burning desire building in your hips. A slight cry of surprise left your lips when you felt him bite your breast hard enough to leave teeth marks upon the skin on the side. Feeling you squirm beneath him was satisfying to see and rewarding to feel. He smiled as he pulled away to look back down at you, pulling you in for a passionate kiss as he wrapped one arm around you to hold you close and allowing the other to slip underneath the rest of your clothes and between your legs.

“I have always loved you,” he whispered softly against your lips, “nothing could ever change that.”

You brought your hands up to hug him tightly to your body once more. One of your hands found purchase in his long locks as his hand found its way to your pussy. His long fingers worked gently against your wet folds, sliding gently and teasingly across your clit and then down between your folds, separating them before giving a small circle of his fingers. Your legs gave a small twitch as you held onto him, allowing him to make you feel good. He continued to tease softly, keeping his middle finger perfectly between everything, using the top of it to gently push and tease your hole before sliding back up to push against your clit before sliding them slowly back down and repeating the process. Feeling his fingers soaked enough and that you probably had enough teasing, he pushed his hand down gently and pushed his finger into you slowly. The delicious sound of you taking his finger in and feeling the wet gush of your walls was such a sweet treat in and of itself. A gentle gasp escaped your lips as you felt his finger slide in. Slowly he pushed his finger in and out, the soft and wet feeling of your malleable cunt had his own cock straining against his pants. He wanted you so bad, but he knew he’d take his time and enjoy this with you.

Eventually Diluc moved from kissing your lips to once again kissing your neck, allowing you to gasp and moan softly at the movements of his finger. You gripped his hair firmly, pulling and tugging on his red locks without too much thought as you turned her head and whimpered into the pillows. It felt like your hips were practically throbbing for more attention, more desire. You wanted more, and with the feeling of Diluc gently grinding his hips into your leg you could only assume that he wanted more as well.

“D-Diluc please,” you whispered. He quickly stopped his movements, looking at you quietly and waiting for your orders, wondering if maybe he had done something wrong and if you wished to stop.

“I’m alright to go further if you are.” You smiled softly up at him. He returned the smile in kind, leaning down and giving you a soft peck before sitting up and beginning to undo the buckle of his pants.

Diluc gave a satisfied sigh once his cock was free from the prison that was his pants. Using whatever slick from you that was still on his hand, he coated his cock with as he watched you gently remove the rest of your clothes. With his right hand he gently stroked himself to ease some of the pain of his desire, and used his other to gently cup your thigh and push your leg open.He looked down at your hips, pressing his cock head teasingly against your hole. He licked his lips as you felt him tease, sliding the head of his cock from your entrance, up between your folds and pressing gently against your clit in order to cover his cock in more of your juices. He continued to grind against your cunt for a second, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips as he watched himself work before looking up at your face. You were biting your lip and gently keeping your legs held open for him to do his work. God he wanted to make you beg for it, but as much as he wanted to tease you forever, he knew this wasn’t the right moment for it.

Diluc pulled his hips back once he saw your needy expression, pressing his cock head against your entrance before finally pushing with enough force to slide in. Feeling his cock spread you open was pure ecstacy you had missed for a very long time. Diluc continued to push slowly down, sinking his hips in til they were flush against yours, unable to sink his cock any deeper into you. You bit your lip softly, digging your nails into your legs and fighting back wanting to thrust your hips yourself or play with your clit. You had missed being this intimate with him so, so much and now you desired nothing but to do this all day if you could. Your thought process was temporarily stopped when you saw his weight shift above you and you felt yourself being hugged close. Diluc had brought his arms down to wrap around you tightly, pressing chest to chest as he simply lay on top of you for a second. You couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed in more ways than one. Your crazy desire to be ravaged by the man you loved and being overjoyed as he held you as close as he could. You brought your arms back up to hug him close, not wanting him to ever pull away or leave your side. You nuzzled your face gently into his shoulder as you whispered affection, unable to say anything other than ‘I love you’ to him.

“I’ll never let you go feeling unloved ever again.”

Diluc raised his hips slowly, a desperate cry leaving your lips before being replaced with a moan as he pushed his hips back in. Diluc squeezed you close and tight, your soft and supple skin like a large huggable stress toy to him as he began to thrust his hips into you. He never wanted to let you go, he never wanted you to be with anyone else or be anywhere else but with him and at the winery. He growled softly into your skin as his fingers dug into your hips from how he was holding you. The way your walls clenched so desperately around his cock as he pushed in and out. Your scent was like a drug to him as he held you close, thrusting into you with the thought of wanting nothing but to be by your side. You couldn’t help the moans of pleasure that escaped your lips, the fear of maids or any one else in the house hearing you no longer a thought in your mind as your nails dug into the skin of Diluc’s back. Feeling his hips smack into yours as he cock pushed deeper into your body after so long felt like a drug you could get addicted too. As he continued so many thoughts raced through your mind, you wanted to beg for more, deeper, harder, so many naughty thoughts ran through your mind but despite it all, at the top that never wavered, you never wanted to let this man go. You never wanted to do something like this with anyone else.

You took one hand from his back to cup his cheek and pull him in close, kissing him with passion as you pressed your chest into his. The warmth he radiated coupled with how close you two were had the both of you sweating. His hair began to stick to his skin as the scent of sex filled the room. Not that the smell bothered you or that either of you could notice since you were so desperately wrapped up in one another. While you pushed up happily into him, he responded in kind by thrusting faster. Feeling him push his cock balls deep yet keeping you close and tended to, had your eyes rolling in satisfaction. This was a craving you weren’t sure you could ever get enough of. As he continued to pound your thighs pink, you could hear his sultry groans and growls turning into heavy set moans, both of you edging closer and closer.

“D-Diluc! Please,” you whimpered desperately.

Diluc looked up through his haze and nodded his head slightly. He removed one arm from around your waist to instead snake it up and hold your hand. He kissed you with ferocity as he laced your fingers, thrusting his hips harder and as deep as both your bodies would allow. He dug his feet into the bed as he continued to thrust, while you raked your nails across his back. All of your moans were muffled by the passionate lip lock the two of you shared, continuing to edge each other little by little, just a bit more, it felt so good and intense. Keep going, you wanted him to keep going, til finally he gave one more deep push, and you felt your muscles tense. Diluc pulled away from the kiss to gasp before growling into your skin, cumming inside of you before gently and slowly pulling out. You breathed heavily, unable to control the sensitivity and the small twitch of your legs as you felt him pull out before clinging to him tightly, fearing he was completely pulling away to leave you. However, you were reassured when he moved to gently lay beside you instead so he wouldn’t crush you under his weight. There was a comfortable silence, the only sound filling the air was the labored breathing both of you shared. You hugged him tight, despite the sweat and mess you both had just made, you couldn’t help but want to be closer to him. This time, it was reciprocated as he pulled you in tight and pressed his nose into your hair.

“I love you, so promise me you won’t leave Mondstadt.”

“I promise.”

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #diluc x reader #diluc x you #genshin impact #genshin smut #diluc ragnvindr #diluc smut #diluc genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnivindr x you

[memorisleep]

my blog is back?

hello everyone. apparently told from a friend, my original blog has been unsuspended and therefore has returned

it has been around 3 months... this was not something i was expecting at all since this blog uses a different email compared to my new one... but i guess i am glad it's back...?????? it's mostly just a bruh moment i am not really ecstatic over it especially with how quickly i've moved on from it ~_~

i do want to apologize however. No i did Not deactivate. tumblr suspended me most likely for the fact i was using a vpn to access here through my laptop. upon learning that fact i have been using tumblr on my tablet since to avoid that (yeah, i got my own personal tablet now :) pretty cool) i am sorry for leaving you all behind like that...

i have been doing alright, i did make a new blog which is memori-sleep but i suppose i shall archive it since i got my blog back now...

[actual-changeling]

Hi, you can call me Alex or whatever variation of my username you'd like. <3

I'm in my early twenties, use mainly they/them pronouns, and there is a lot wrong with my brain (both affectionately and in a decidedly not fun way). I have memory issues, so I can and will forget things, including replying to messages. You are ALWAYS invited to send me a reminder—please, please do, I will not be offended, pinky promise.

This blog is 90% fandom, 5% personal shit and 5% misc posts that I like. My inbox and DMs are open, so feel free to message me and interact however you like! If there's something you want me to see, I don't mind getting tagged in posts either.

Please don't be an asshole, and you can find my opinions/rules about discourse on my blog right here. I'm incredibly bad at judging my own tone, so if I come across as overly intense or upset, chances are I am actually not—I'm just passionate about the things I enjoy.

Mulder and Scully have taken over my brain and body, and I don't think they will leave me alone ever again.

I will be tagging spoilers for any newly released shows and episodes. If there is something you would like me to tag spoilers for, just shoot me an ask or dm!

Currently following and tagging for:

The X Files: alex watches x files

Doctor Who: alex watches doctor who, dw spoilers

(PJO The Series: pjo spoilers) show is on hiatus

The Magnus Protocols: alex listens to tmagp, tmagp spoilers

I write fanfiction both here on tumblr and on ao3 under actualchangeling. Requests or ideas are fine, though I cannot make any promises.

Wanna chat with other people about good omens? I have a discord you can join, mostly angelfish focused but we talk about all our beloved idiots.

My other misc current active special interests are Doctor Who and Good Omens, but I dabble in a lot of other fandoms, too. Among those are Marvel/Iron Man, Lucifer, TLOU, The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale, Prospect (2018), and many more.

My tag system for original posts applies to all fandoms I am currently actively engaging with and follows the same patterns. I tag spoilers when I remember to for about a week, so consider this blog to be very much NOT spoiler free.

alex talks x -> meta, analysis, interpretation, or opinion posts

alex writes x -> either self-promotion or tumblr specific ficlets, without any fandom addition it's original writing of some kind

Any personal posts that are not fandom related are tagged as following; feel free to block them if you're just here for the fandom madness!! I really do not mind.

alex yells at the void -> misc personal stuff

alex gets personal -> potentially triggering discussions of my trauma or mental health, vent posts

Last but not least, the tag for my queue is I’ll follow queue anywhere you go. It's a TLOU reference for those who are curious.

#pinned post

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

So I've got some thoughts for my RvB gang.

I had a thought recently. I found Sharkface to be an extremely boring villain. Like he was cool(ish) and the jokes about how edy he was trying to be were funny(ish) but. You know who would have been more fun? The dude with the robot arm.

Think about it - the guy was shot by Carolina and left behind on a drilling rig that blew up, and survived. He tanked a MAC round from orbit and all he lost was his right arm. They've set up a perfect villain here. Claiming he literally can't die would be so funny! Every time he appears he dies, then he just shows back up with yet another robotic prosthetic. His whole subplot is that he just desperately wants to die, and he finally figured out that the pyramid thing is his only shot at finally getting his wish. The problem is that he would also wipe out the rest of life as we know it if he did that.

Anyway, the background subplot is what's really important here. Carolina is being hunted down by a shadowy figure. Evidence points to him being another hired gun working with the pirates. He is always half a step behind her, getting closer and closer to tracking her down.

Eventually in the climax, the hitman catches up to Carolina. They go through an intense duel, where he seems to be able to anticipate all of her best moves and counteract them. Finally, she manages to hit the guy hard enough to knock off his helmet.

It's York.

Then we get some backstory - when York was shot going after Wyoming, Delta turned on his healing unit. He then told Tex that York was dying. As soon as she left Delta woke York back up, got him to swap armor with one of the grunts, and disappear.

So York spent several months slowly recovering. During that time, life finally beat him. He didn't have his armor, he didn't have his healing unit anymore, and he didn't have Delta to keep him coming. He finally gave up on the dream of finding Carolina alive somewhere.

So instead, he decided it was high time someone finally killed Director Church. He would kill the man who took everything he'd ever loved - admittedly, in a roundabout sort of way - from him. Only when he tracked the director down, he found hundreds of dead Allison lookalikes and archive footage of yet another cheap robot replacement killing the Director - except this time Church went to far. He made a replacement of her. He couldn't even let his own daughter's memory find peace.

So, York ended up with a new goal: kill the robot that had stolen Carolina's face (armor). End it once and for all. Bring some closure for the girl that he loved so much but never got to keep.

After all of this revelation, we finally get York and Carolina's big happy ending. I don't know how they beat the immortal robo guy, but mostly I just care about my Yorkalina angst and resolutions.

Anyway. I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts. And... should I write this at some point? Let me know.

#red vs blue #rvb #agent york #agent carolina #yorkalina

[rubydubydoo122]

Jason gets de-aged because I've seen fics of Tim or Dick being de-aged, and Bruce losing his memory, but no one has realized the potential for angst if you de-age Jason.

Zatanna had something come up. So of all people she could have sent to replace her, she sent Constantine. Bruce really didn’t know if his luck could get any worse. At least 15 year old Jason liked his accent. 

Constantine was a really capable sorcerer, he was just really hard to work with. Worse than Hal Jordan. Though, if they wanted to get Jason back to normal, they would have to accept Constantine. 

“Hey, Batman! Go back down into the cave, and send Bruce up. I want him instead of Brood and Gloom.”

Bruce was suddenly brought back to the breakfast table. In all of his 41 years of living, he had never seen Alfred smile this big, “That’s my boy.”

Jason beamed at that.

Bruce’s phone pinged. He didn’t even have to look to know it was Dick sending him a ‘Rule #2’ . That’s all his messages with Dick consisted of. Mostly rule #2’s, some rule #3’s, and the occasional rule #1. All in all, Bruce was doing relatively good. He was definitely avoiding Jason more, but if he was around him too much, the only thought that started to fill his brain was his cooling body in his arms. So he toed the line. And he doesn’t think Jason noticed all that much, because whenever Bruce wasn’t with him, one of his children was.

“Constantine’s coming instead of Zatanna.” Bruce finally said, “I think I should be allowed to brood a little bit.”

“ Don’t get your knickers in a twist , old man.” Jason actually had a really good Liverpool British accent, “Mr. Constantine’s not that bad.”

“I just hate magic.” Bruce didn’t grumble. He was too old to grumble like a toddler.

Jason looked himself over and then put a hand to his chest in fake offense.

Bruce’s phone pinged again, “Dick, will you stop that!” 

But it wasn’t Dick, because Dick was holding a fork and knife in his hands and mid-bite.

Bruce dug out his phone.

“ Is the bloke with the sparkly fingas here? ”

That earned a snicker from Duke, Dick and Tim.

Bruce stood up at the same time Tim said, “I’ll give you five dollars if you say that to his face.”

“Oh! Abso–”

“..Lutely not, Jason. To the cave. Let's go.”

Jason slid out of his chair without noise and followed.

Constantine was already in the cave, and smoking a cigarette. 

“Hi, Mr. Constantine!” Jason practically glided down the stairs, as Bruce strode down at a normal pace.

“Hello there, Jason. I reckon you were a bit taller the last time I saw you. Bruce.”

“Constantine. I’m assuming Zatanna filled you in?”

“Yeah yeah yeah. I’m offended you didn’t call me first. I thought we were mates.”

Bruce just raised an eyebrow. Constantine squirmed a bit, and Jason shot Bruce a grin. A grin that was so reminiscent of the way Jason used to look at him after he cuffed a bad guy. Before Fellipe Garzona had fallen off that roof. Before Gloria Stanson had hung herself.

“Alrighty! Let's check out what kinda curse you’ve got going on. Brucie, would you mind taking a couple steps back, love?”

He did, and as soon as Bruce was out of range, Jason was surrounded in a dome of golden runes. Bruce didn’t miss the way Constantine frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“The little birdie here has a lot of magic knotted all up together.” Constantine started searching through the runes, “Was it you or the Demon child that– Aha, knew it was you. Your soul’s got dimensional ripples.”

Jason frowned, “Heh?”

Bruce blinked, Dimensional ripples? Clark, Lois, and Jonathan had somehow been transported to this dimension before their souls had merged with their counterparts… who had died. Was that what happened with Jason? Maybe he should talk to Barry when all of this is over.

“And you’ve got some leftover Lazaru– Blimey! You have access to the All-Blade?”

Jason shrugged, “I don’t really like beyblades.”

“That’s not what the All-Blade is. It’s–” A set of runes began to glow, and the borderline fangirl look on Constantine’s face immediately dropped. “Jesus...”

“I have access to Jesus?” Jason touched his forehead, then his left shoulder and then his right, “Thank you, father, son, and the holy spirit. Amen.”

Bruce ignored Jason’s prayer, “What’s wrong?”

The dome of runes disappeared, “...I’ve got good news and bad news?”

He gave Constantine a look.

“Um, good news is, the spell looks like it’ll wear off on its own…” Constantine tried for a sheepish smile, but immediately dropped it, “bad news is, it isn’t supposed to? The magic is interacting with the dimensional ripples, and I can’t touch any of it because it’d be like…”

“Disarming a bomb?” Jason supplied. And Bruce had to suppress the urge to flinch at that analogy.

“Yes. Yes exactly, but one wrong move–”

“Boom.” He mimicked an explosion with his hands. ”But you said it’ll wear off on its own, so it’s fine. Right?”

Constantine winced and a ringing was starting to form in Bruce’s ears as he grabbed Constantine by the tie and started dragging him up the stairs.

“Stay here, Jason.”

“Bruce–”

“I said stay !” Jason flinched at his tone, but Bruce and Constantine were already in the study. “Explain.”

Constantine fixed his tie, “Whatever magic he got hit with didn’t just affect him physically, it also affected his soul. I think, if we’re going off of what happened to Clark and Lois, his soul merged together with his soul from an alternate dimension, causing it to be all… rippley. I can’t fully tell what it’s going to do, but in a couple of days, it looks like it’ll in about two or three days? There’s a 50/50 chance– or I guess, a 25/25/50 chance– that he’s going to either go back to normal, stay this way or…”

It was the 25th. two days from today would make it…

The 27th of April.

It suddenly felt like the ground underneath them was turning or tilting, or hell, both.

Bruce had gotten him back. He’d gotten him back, he can’t leave again. He can’t lose him again, he can’t die again.

Jason found it very rude that Bruce and Constantine were obviously leaving him out of the conversation about him. It completely baffles him how Bruce was raised by Alfred, yet had no manners. He wasn’t even subtle about it. 

Constantine said the spell would wear off. So why did he look like he was about to say something was wrong. Like really wrong. Sure, trying to tamper with whatever was going on would be… bad, but they weren’t gonna mess with it. They would just wait for it to wear off.

Would he physically go back to normal, but he would never remember the past five years? Or was he slowly going to become younger and younger until he was just a literal fetus flopping around on a table? 

Why won’t anyone tell him anything? It would be so much easier if they did. 

Jason eyed the Batcomputer and then the stairs. There was no one else here, no one to stop him from learning by himself.

He opened up the batcomputer, and the first thing he noticed was that everything was filed differently. Instead of being alphabetical, the missions were sorted into who had the mission and the date. For some reason, Jason’s folder had the least amount of missions under it, even though the folder itself was older than Duke’s. 

Still, he clicked on it, only to find that the oldest mission was less than a year ago. Not helpful.

Maybe if these were sorted recently, some of the older mission reports that he did with Bruce would be in Bruce’s folder.

Bruce’s most recent mission was called “Fun Sized Jason”. Guess that would be him. Jason clicked on it and… Bruce is a much sadder man than Jason had given him credit for. And Jason was currently upset at Bruce for snapping at him, and Bruce had obviously snapped because he was being broody. This man. Couldn’t even follow his own rules.

Rule #3 Don’t let Jason know something’s up between your relationship with him 

What was ‘up’ between him and Bruce? If anything, Bruce has been a lot more patient with him.

Unless Bruce was acting. And Bruce could act, Jason had seen him at Galas.

No. He couldn’t have been. Bruce had said he’d give him the world. And he said it in the way that made Jason know he was telling nothing but the truth. 

But that first night Bruce wouldn’t even look at him.

No. Bruce had to have been telling the truth.

But the longing and the guilt and regret… Maybe Jason had done something to Bruce, the same way he did something to Tim and Damian. Jason still didn’t know what exactly that was, just that he felt bad about it.

Jason exited out of that mission statement and started scrolling down to April of 2018. And there were a lot of cases. A part of Jason was glad they were re-organised by date because it would’ve taken a lot more work to try to figure out the name of the file, and then find the file.

Ethiopia: Sheila Haywood, the Joker, and Jason Todd – 4/24/2018- 4/27/2018

Bingo. The first date lined up with the last date in his notebook. He double clicked on it, when a locked symbol came up followed by a space for a password.

Great. Just perfect. 

He tried the password Bruce used on most things.

Wrong.

Bruce’s birthday?

Wrong again.

Jason’s Birthday. Since the file seemed to be about him.

Oh yeah! Who has the best guessing skills? Jason does. He did a little victory spin in the chair, but when he went to look back at the computer, there was a Tim shaped wall blocking his view.

He tried to look around him, but Tim shifted to block him again.

“Timmy, Timbooo, my favorite brother-o. You’re blocking my view, Hermano.”

Tim gave him a look that was scarily similar to Bruce’s bat-glare. 

Jason tried to look around him again, but suddenly, he was being tossed over Tim’s shoulder, and they were moving farther and farther from the computer.

“Hey! I was obviously in the middle of something!”

Tim snorted, as he started up the stairs. “I could bring up a spreadsheet of all the times you’ve done this to me. We’d be here for hours.”

Jason licked his finger and twisted so that he could stick it in his ear. Good news was, it made Tim let Jason go. Bad news was, it made Tim let Jason go, and sent Jason tumbling down the cave’s stairs.

“Jason!”

Lucky for Jason, he was a fast recoverer, and made an immediate beeline to the computer. 

After escaping Arkham Asylum, The Joker had made his way to Ethiopia. Jason had come across the information that Sheila Haywood was his birth mother. Haywood had been a doctor who was working at a refugee camp, also located in Ethiopia. Without my knowledge or Alfred’s, Jason traveled to meet up with his mother. 

Jason and I had managed to cross paths in Ethiopia, when we soon learned that Haywood was being held ‘hostage’ by the Joker. I went to go check on some other thing that had come up, and I had told Jason to stay put, but instead he had gone to attempt to save Haywood. Which led to Jason getting hurt by the Joker.

Jason started to scroll down more, the screen went black.

Tim was standing next to the outlet with the power cord in his hand.

Suddenly all the scars on his hand looked interesting, “Is.. Are most of my scars from the Joker?”

Jason heard Tim’s feet shuffle across the flood of the batcave, “I don’t think I’m the person you should be having this conversation with.”

“But it was bad enough to the point where I needed a Lazarus pit to get better. It was bad enough to the point where I had to stop being Robin.” Because why else would Tim start hanging around the manor when he was 13? Why else would Bruce adopt him? “And you were Robin after me?”

A beat, “Yes.”

He thought back to the conversation he had in the bathroom with Tim, “So, I didn’t grow out of being Robin. I was… forced into retirement. By the Joker.”

“That’s… the easy way of putting it.” Tim took one of Jason’s hands, “I want to show you something.”

They both went over to the locker area and Tim opened his locker and pulled out a shoe box from the top. “I guess since you knew I was a little stalker back in the day, there should be no reason for me to feel embarrassed for showing you these.” He moved to the bench and opened the lid. 

Inside the box were a bunch of photos of Batman and Robin. Of Bruce and Jason. Tim handed him a couple. The first one was of Jason when he had just become Robin. He was talking animatedly while walking with a teenage girl. He remembers that night.  Her name was Angela, and she had been followed for a couple of blocks by a bunch of older guys, and Jason couldn’t let her go home alone. Not with how cruel the streets could be. 

The next one was of Jason cradling a baby. The mom had been separated from the baby during an Ivy attack. 

The last one Tim had handed to him was of Batman and Robin in an Alley. They had just taken down a bunch of thugs, and Jason was talking with the two kids, Gavin and Evan, while Batman was farther off, with a fond smile on his face, looking at Jason. 

“Robin is the light to Batman’s darkness. Hope to his fear. Every Robin gave light, but out of all of us, you shined the brightest. You were the people’s Robin, you cared about them so much, like each and every one of them are your brothers and sisters.” Tim pointed at the picture in Jason’s hand, “Your light was so bright, you made Batman smile. And that isn’t the only picture I have like that.” He put his hand on Jason’s elbow, “I could never come close to the Robin you were, but I always tried. You were like the Sun. And I could never take your place. Not really, but I tried my best to do what I thought you would. To make you proud. Even though… you didn’t really like me when you found out.”

“No. I like you. It’s just…” Jason could feel his eyes burn, “If I got hurt, really bad, bad enough to the point where I couldn’t be Robin anymore, why would Bruce let there be another one? When- When it could happen again? Or even worse. ”

Tim closed his eyes, “When the Joker did what he did to you, it sent him down a dark path. He was barely holding back his punches and he was barely dodging them either. Batman needed a Robin and—“

“I wasn’t there.”

“No! Jason, it wasn’t your fault. You were going through some of the worst moments of your life, it wasn’t your job at that time to be Robin, or emotionally babysit Bruce while he fought crime to deal with his trauma.”

“But you were, what? 13 at the time with no legal obligations to him. It shouldn’t have been your job either.”

Tim blinked, “ah, fuck.” He sat criss cross on the bench and turned so he was fully facing Jason, “point is, it was just a bad time. Bruce kicked Dick out of the Manor, The Joker had diplomatic immunity, which still does not make sense to me, but then he was sent back to Arkham. Bane broke Bruce’s back, some psycho took over being Batman and would not let Dick and I in the cave, but then Bruce got better and became Batman again. Superman died, but then he came back. Then Bruce got framed for murder, and then the riddler and clayface teamed up with this whole convoluted plot which involved Clayface showing up as you and trying to kill us and Bruce probably needed therapy, but he was too much of a stubborn ass to ever actually go.” Tim finally took a breath. 

Jason blinked, “That’s a really rough five years.”

Tim groaned and leaned his head on Jason’s shoulder, “That was only two.” 

“Then it was probably a… shittier five years.” Jason patted his head, “Thanks, Tim.”

Tim glanced at Jason, “For what? I literally just trauma dumped on you.”

Jason shrugged, “Yeah, but you also gave me more information about what the hell is going on around here than anyone has in the past two days. Maybe a lot of the things that happened sound horrible, but it’s better than not knowing. Ya know?”

Jason felt Tim nod, “I’m sorry we’ve been keeping it all from you. It’s not something Bruce likes to talk about, and for Dick being the next adult who isn’t emotionally constipated, he evades certain topics like the plague.”

Jason snorted, “Wanna know something I’ve been completely baffled by?”

Tim sat up, “What?”

“Dick isn’t… wallowed up in angst. Him and Bruce haven’t had a single argument, and Dick…he’s a lot different. So is Bruce.” Jason thought about it for a moment, “Am I different too?”

Tim smirked and dug out his phone, “Mentally, Emotionally, or Physically?” Tim angled the phone so Jason could see, and it was a picture of a man, kneeling and talking to a little girl. There was a red helmet on the floor, but the man had a domino that covered his eyes. Tim swiped to the next one, of older Jason helping an old lady across the street. He swiped again to a photo of him holding Damian in a firefighter’s hold. “You might be a lot rougher around the edges, but everyone changes with time, especially with the things you’ve gone through. Yeah, you might be different, but I think you’re still the same in the ways that it counts.”

Jason looked at the photo. Without the domino, or the helmet he could really see how he had grown into his features, “I look a lot like my papi,” He looked back at Tim, and then pointed upwards to where Bruce had gone, “But I think I learned how to help from my dad.”

#jason todd #batman #batfam #dc comics #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #damian wayne #duke thomas

[1863-project]

Okay, was thinking about it and I remembered a lot of you were very young or not even alive for this, so:

When 9/11 happened I was 12 and had just started 7th grade. I grew up in a suburb of New York City. 12 people from my town died, including a firefighter whose son was in my younger brother's CCD group.

Things changed SO fast. Practically overnight. Suddenly, we were all hypervigilant, and after the immediate response of assistance from around the world, the prejudice was oozing from nearly everywhere. In northern New Jersey, we had and still have a large west (Middle East) and south Asian population. They were hit the hardest.

People freaked out just because a mosque was going to be built in lower Manhattan within several blocks of Ground Zero at one point. It was ridiculous and the Islamophobia was so fucking awful and infuriating. It still is. It didn't go away. For the most part, New Yorkers are usually good to each other because there's literally someone from everywhere here, but this was legitimately terrifying. People would even attack Sikhs - who weren't Muslim, Sikhism is its own thing - because they saw the turbans and made a decision based on racism (i.e. bin Laden had a turban so these people must be like him).

The "patriotism" was miserable. "Freedom fries" happened because people were mad that France didn't want to go into Iraq with Bush in 2003. We all thought it was stupid then too.

The Chicks (formerly known as the Dixie Chicks) got blackballed because they came out against said war. They were one of the biggest country acts in the world at the time. In general, country music went through a massive tonal shift post-9/11 and became far more "patriotic" and conservative. Johnny Cash wouldn't have recognized it.

The Flash movies that inevitably popped up satirizing politics were...something. You can find most of them archived on YouTube these days. But that was how the internet tended to cope back then.

The shift from happiness to paranoia was so fucking fast. I went from a world where my biggest concern was pre-ordering the GameCube to being worried about politics and death all the time. All the news showed was footage of people dying for weeks. Politicians started using the footage in commercials. You just had to keep reliving the trauma of it over and over again. I stopped watching the news.

It was, looking back on it, a huge galvanizing point for the American right. Politicians started using 9/11 to justify so many things. This was where I began to see as a young teenager that you could use people's prejudices to get a grip on power and get what you wanted. I didn't like it.

People started drawing memorial art almost immediately. The phenomenon of memorial art being done decades later with cartoon characters still persists on deviantART to this day, but when it started, it was mostly people doing vent art because it's really upsetting to be a kid and see death on that scale on the news.

It took me 15 years to go back to the site after 9/11. I'd been as a kid in 1997 and I went up in the South Tower with my family. I didn't set foot there again until 2016, 15 years after the attacks. I found the name of the firefighter whose son was in my brother's CCD class. It was surreal.

This chapter of American history arguably closed for many people in 2011, when bin Laden was killed in a raid. I remember watching the Mets play the Phillies that night. Daniel Murphy, who I'd named a cat after two years earlier, was at bat, and suddenly the crowd started chanting "USA." I used my Blackberry to check the news and that was how I found out. I was a senior in college, about to graduate. I don't even remember how I felt, just that the way I found out was so fucking weird.

It was a really stressful, bizarre climate to grow up in. In the time between my 12th and my 22nd birthday, I saw my entire world get turned upside down overnight, massive waves of prejudice, unnecessary wars that killed even more innocent people, literal war crimes (tw: rape, murder, prisoner torture, every other bad thing you can think of under the sun), and the rise of false patriotism and nationalism, which you can still see the right wing harnessing today.

If you're going to mock something here, mock the false patriotism. Mock "Freedom Fries." Mock George W. Bush. Just...don't mock the actual moments where people died. Too many innocent people died from the attacks themselves, the Islamophobia afterwards, and the wars that followed. That shit isn't funny.

#history

[aceofstars16]

Oh look, another Gravity Falls fic! I started this one a while ago but finally got around to finishing and editing it! Title is from the song "It's Alright" by Mother Mother

And hey it actually kind of fits Week 4 of @forduary cause it is older Ford *jazz hands*

You can read on AO3 but I will put the fic under the cut here as well!

Summary: Weirdmageddon is over, everything should be fine, right? But Mabel and Ford find themselves confronted with feelings they'd rather forget, and find comfort from each other. (Aka, Mabel has nightmares and Ford is there to comfort her because we love fluff and Mabel and Ford bonding)

It was late. Ford wasn’t exactly sure what time it was, but the kids had gone to bed hours ago, and he had sent Stan off to get some sleep, what? An hour, two hours ago? Something like that. His body was drained and he knew he should sleep. But he knew what awaited him if he did. Sure, Bill was gone, but nightmares would still come, he knew it. Especially after all that had happened. Even in the waking hours, he couldn’t get rid of the image of him pointing the memory gun at Stan, no matter how hard he wished it would leave him. After all, despite Stan remembering more and more, there were still holes in his memory. Which is why Ford was still up, rifling through boxes he had long forgotten about, looking for anything that might help his brother fill in those holes.

Pulling out another photobook, Ford started flipping through it. He had already put a few aside to show Stan when he woke up, but this one was mostly pictures from college. He put it in the useless pile – though he supposed he might share it with Fiddleford at some point. Ford wasn’t sure if it was irony or a sign of his poor life choices that two of his closest friends had lost their memories because of his decisions.

With a sigh, Ford picked up a frame from the box, only to freeze when he heard a floorboard creak.

Quickly looking up, he was expecting to see Stan – it hadn’t been uncommon the last day or so to find his brother up and about at any hour of the day or night. However, this time, it wasn’t his brother who was up. Instead, he saw his great niece walking past the doorway.

“Mabel?” Setting down the frame, Ford stood up, trying his best to ignore how hard the movement was. Maybe he should try to get some sleep…

Mabel had already walked past the room, but a second later, her head poked into the doorway. “Oh, Grunkle Ford! I…didn’t know you were up.” She fiddled with her nightgown, her eyes flickering to and fro much faster than normal.

“I was just looking through some old boxes.” Ford gestured to the box he had been perusing. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

Mabel glanced at the box, then the floor, then at Ford, then at the wall, before looking at the ground once again. “I uh…” She swallowed, then said in a quiet voice, “…nightmare…”

Sadness pierced Ford’s heart. He was used to nightmares, and in a sense, he knew it was his fault that he had so many. But Mabel? She was far too young and innocent to be dealing with such troubles. He took a step forward, but stopped. He didn’t want to make anything worse. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Looking at him, Mabel opened her mouth, then closed it and bit her lip before shaking her head, which only made Ford more worried about her.

Glancing at the box by the couch, Ford decided a different tactic might be helpful – one that he used quite often with himself – distraction. “Would you like to help me look through my old things?”

Mabel perked up at that. “Really?”

Ford nodded and gave her his best smile before motioning her to come closer. “Of course. There is a lot to look through and I could use the help.”

A smile slowly grew on Mabel’s face and she made her way to the box and picked up an old framed certificate – his diploma. For a moment, she just looked at it, then she spoke. “Wow, the seventies! You really are old!”

A chuckle escaped Ford before he could stop it. He reached down and took the frame from her, shaking his head as he placed it in the useless pile. “I suppose I am getting a little old.” He reached down and picked up another photo album then sat down, patting the space beside him.

Mabel grinned and plopped herself down next to him, leaning her head against his arm as he opened the book, only to straighten up.

“Oh my gosh is that you and Stan as teenagers?!?” Her smile was contagious.

“It is…” Ford said quietly, trying not to think too much about the lump that grew in his throat as he was faced with the memories the pictures brought to the surface. Hopefully that was a good sign that they would help Stan remember. Even if they only served to remind him of all the things he wished he could change.

 “Ooo who is that?” Mabel pointed to another picture.

And so, the night continued, Mabel asking questions and Ford telling her stories of when he was younger. Ford was in the middle of talking about one of his favorite classes at a summer camp when he glanced down and realized that Mabel was fast asleep, using his arm as a pillow.

A soft smile grew on his face, and he carefully set the book they had been looking through to the side. He knew he should simply take Mabel back to her bed and continue his work. There was still so much left to go through. But then, in her sleep, Mabel curled up closer to him. He supposed he could rest his eyes. Just for a few hours…

------

The sky split open, turning the world red. Laughter filled the air.

“Thanks Shooting Star!”

Bill’s voice echoed around Mabel.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Bill’s voice sound behind her. Spinning around, Mabel shrunk back as the demon grew bigger and bigger. Screams surrounded her, growing louder and louder until she couldn’t hear herself think anymore. Chaos reigned. Then suddenly the noise died and she only heard one voice.

“Who you talkin' to?”

She was looking at Stan again, confused, lost, not knowing who he was, or who she was. He turned and looked at her, then a chorus of her family’s voices spoke all together.

“It’s all your fault.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Mabel cried out, tears growing in her eyes.

“Your fault, your fault, your fault!”

The voices grew louder and louder, no matter how hard she pleaded, tried to apologize, they wouldn’t stop. She was drowning in guilt, it was pressing down on her chest, heavier and heavier until she couldn’t breathe.

Gasping, Mabel started awake. The voices were gone. The only sounds were Dipper’s quiet breathing and the occasional bug hitting the window in the attic. But her heart was still racing, and the guilt from her dream was still pressing down on her. Waking up hadn’t freed her from the reality of her actions.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t haunted by Weirdmageddon, and all of the events of the last week. And she hadn’t even lived in the apocalyptic world that long, not compared to the townsfolk or Dipper - there were times when she had heard him muttering in his sleep. And then yesterday she had once again stood face to face with her mistakes, when she had found herself lost with thousands of versions of herself.

Holding out her hand, Mabel saw her entire arm shaking. She felt cold despite the humidity of the attic. Swallowing hard, she looked at Dipper. For a split second, she considered waking him. She knew he wouldn’t mind, not that much at least, but…he didn’t know the whole truth. About how Weirdmageddon had really started.

Forcing herself to move, Mabel got out of bed and shakily made her way to the door, then down the stairs. She didn’t quite know where she was going. Maybe to find Stan… he always make her feel better. Or…Mabel didn’t realize where her feet were taking her until she was standing in the doorway to the secret room her and Dipper had fought over what seemed like ages ago.

It was Ford’s room now. Though there still wasn’t a bed in it, just a couch where Ford was conked out…had he really been sleeping on the couch for weeks? How had she never realized that until now? Just another reason she was selfish. The guilt in her chest grew.

“Mabel?”

Ford’s voice made her jump. She thought he'd been asleep. But he was sitting up now, one hand resting on his hip and the other straightening his glasses.

The guilt monster pressed down on her more. Ford needed sleep. Only a few days ago, he had been staying up till all ends of the night. He was finally resting and she had ruined it. Swallowing, she opened her mouth, trying to make herself apologize and tell him she was just going to get a drink, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Nightmare?” He asked quietly, concern lining his voice.

Hugging herself, Mabel tried blinking back the tears that were growing in her eyes, she shook her head. Her performance must not have been very convincing however, because Ford patted the couch next to him.

“Come here.” It was a gentle invitation, and despite knowing she didn’t deserve it, Mabel couldn’t stop herself. She rushed forward and sat down on the couch, curling up in on herself as she did.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder and pulled her into a small side hug.

“It’s alright…it…everything is okay now.” Ford spoke quietly as his hand moved up and down in a comforting motion.

However, they had the opposite effect on Mabel. Tears blurred her vision as the guilt and regret pressed in on her.

“No it’s not!” A sob shook her body and she curled in on herself even more.

For a moment, there was no response, then Ford spoke again, his voice heavy with remorse. “I’m so sorry, Mabel…”

She froze at the unexpected words and slowly looked up at him. He was staring at the ground, his face downcast. “Wh…what?”

He turned to look at her. “Weirdmageddon…everything that happened. It…it’s all my fault. I let Bill into our universe, I couldn’t stop him before…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry my mistakes hurt you…”

Each word weighed down on her more and more. “Grunkle Ford it’s not…it’s not your fault it…” her throat tightened and she closed her eyes tight, resulting in a tear rolling down her cheek. “…it’s mine…”

Even with her eyes closed, Mabel could feel Ford straighten up. “Mabel, it is not your-”

“Yes it is!” Mabel opened her eyes and looked right at Ford, not even trying to stop her crying. “I-I gave B-Bill the rift! I…if it wasn’t for me W-Weirdmageddon never would’ve happened! Stan wouldn’t have-” Her voice broke as sobs overtook her whole body, guilt pulling her down, down…

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a warm embrace.

“It’s not your fault, Mabel.” Ford’s voice was soft and kind, not the angry disbelief she had been expecting every time she had thought about telling anyone what had happened.

“Bill is a master manipulator…he’d do anything, say anything to get what he wants…wanted.”

Hiding her face in his sweater, Mabel was tempted to just let it go at that. Bill was awful…But… “I know…but I…I still didn’t want summer to end. I…I was scared and selfish and…I want to be better but what if I mess up again?!? What if I keep being selfish?” Anti-Mabel’s words echoed around in her head as Mabel curled in on herself.

Ford’s arms tightened around her and after a moment, he sighed and spoke softly.

“I know how you feel.”

Mabel froze. “You…you do?”

“I do.” Ford said, regret lining his voice. “When I was younger, I was so focused on what I wanted, that I hurt the person that meant the most to me. And then I ignored all of the warnings I saw about Bill because I wanted to make a name for myself…Even now…I…I was so…caught up in my frustration and desire to make things right that I didn’t even…think about how my distrust could backfire…I didn’t want to admit my mistakes and…by the time I did…it was too late…and Stanley paid the price for my pride.”

Looking up, Mabel saw Ford staring at the wall, tears pooling in his eyes.

He seemed to sense her gaze and turned attention to her, but not before quickly wiping his eyes and clearing this throat. Then he gave her a gentle smile.

“You’re a better person than I am, Mabel. I…the fact that you want to change now, at your age, shows more maturity than I’ve had for most of my life.”

Mabel saw the sadness lingering under his smile, and she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. “You’re not a bad person, Grunkle Ford.”

Ford was silent for a moment, then he sighed. “I…I’m glad you think that, Mabel.”

Sitting back a little, Mabel met his gaze. “I don’t think so. I know so! Maybe…maybe we both have some things to work on but you aren’t a bad person. You are just the right amount of nerdy for Dipper, and you’ve done everything to get Stan’s memory back and you’ve sat with me and helped me feel better after I’ve had a nightmares. I wouldn’t want any other person to have come out of the portal.”

The smallest laugh escaped Ford. "I…okay, Mabel…I…thank you.”

Mabel smiled at him. “I can remind you any time you need it!”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Any time?”

“Cell phones!”

“Oh, right…I’m not the best at using them but…”

“Stan can help! At least…” Mabel hummed in thought. “Well, he can kind of use one, and you can learn!”

Ford laughed lightly and smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

“Promise?” Mabel held out her pinkie. For a moment, Ford just stared at it, then he interlocked his pinkie with hers.

“Promise.”

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #forduary #forduary 2024 #ford pines #mabel pines #stanford pines #mabel and ford bonding #sweater twins #stan pines #dipper pines #stanley pines #(they are mentioned in it at least xD) #aceo writes things

[connectionterminated13]

Connection established welcome!

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

Hello my name is connection terminated13! I am a 15 year old Canadian learning artist. I use she/they

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

I am big fan of the stupid bear game (fnaf).I do like other things though like little nightmares, Adventure time, John dies at the end. But it's mostly just fnaf!

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

Also please remember I have dyslexia and use speech to type! I often make spelling errors so if you see one just tell me:3

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

DNI list: Proship, Terfs, Pedophiles/Zoophiles, Bigotry of any kind, No extreme NSFW (I mostly mean purposely sexual stuff)

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

Fnaf AU's!!!

#fnaf Inferno au

Basically my version of the events depicted in the stupid bear game :)

#fnaf Death swap

Almost all of the deaths are swapped in the main series. Charlie lives Sammy dies, Charlie's friends are the Mci, Michael dies to baby instead of Elizabeth.

The plot mostly follows a much older Elizabeth Who is soon to turn 22, Lives in a small apartment with her girlfriend Susie and plays in a punk band that she created called "Baby and the circus freaks". One night she gets a call from her father that Michael is still here, at circus babies entertainment in rentals and it's Elizabeth strobbed to put him back together...

# Fractured Memories

Evan survives the bite But understand that he is supposed to die. He also knows that his family all die and become horrible monsters. At tonight he can see the monsters his family becomes. As for the family they're dealing with the physical afflictions of death's not yet to come. All Evan can do is sit back and watch as his memory and reality fractures further

#cub au

Cassie is phone dude's daughter, phone dude dies in FNAF 3 and having no one else to take care of her Michael decides to adopt her.

It's mostly just Michael being a really good dad and Cassie being a cute little kid

#Red Sunrise

the only thing I actually written for:

The premise is Elizabeth dying in the fnaf6 Fire then diving back into the living play after tricking old man consequences

As of writing there's only 2 chapters I'm working on the third but you know life...

#fnaf Rewrite

A rewrite of the twisted ones but mostly the fourth closet novels. Getting rid of the gross stuff and generally trying to improve the story!

#Gears and rot au

William made some robot versions of his dead daughter and son then realized how fucking weird that was and shut them down in the murder clown basement. Years later Michael goes down and does a sister location. The robot version of Evan is able to save him before he becomes a skin suit but Mikey still "dies" from internal bleeding

It's now Michael's job to take care of the little robot even though it is creepy and weird...

#Victorian AU

I can't believe I haven't added this one yet! Should probably summarize it

It's kind of like 5 nights at Freddy's but Victorian... There's some twists added in.. You're just gonna have to go and find out!!!!!

I have like 6 au that I never really did anything with... You can find them if you want...

Cassie in the dark

It's not just a normal AU it's an ask blog!!!

@cassie-in-the-dark

General goofiness

Upcoming???

Extremely silly :3

÷=@%&=@@^&=+#&&$×!_&&£

And here's some of my arts!!

#master post #connectionterminated13 thought #Suck at taking things LOL #cub au

[my-catsface]

HEELLLLOO EVERYONE!! I am going to talk about THE MAGNUS PROTOCOL and a Theory (maybe theories?) I have so spoilers for the first two episodes of The Magnus Protocol and major spoilers for the ending of The Magnus Archives!!!

(Someone has very likely said this before so it might be repeat information)

Okay. okay. Okay. okay. You guys know… that one comment Alice made about the voices reading statements, right? How there are three voices you can hear when statements are read aloud? We’ve got Jon and Martin as Chester and Norris, but she also mentioned an Augustus there too. “Auhhh but who’s that?? There was nobody else in the Panopticon-“ WRONG!! It’s our babygirl Jonah Magnus.

First off, during the end of the Magnus Archives we get a little “after” dialogue from the girlies about what’s going on. They mention something happening to Simon and why it’s probably for the best that they didn’t find any bodies. But that’s the thing. They didn’t find ANY bodies. Not Jon or Martin sure, but Elias’s corpse should’ve just been hangin’ around in there. But this seems to indicate that it wasn’t. So where’d to go? Probably the exact same place that Jon and Martin went.

Okay okay SECONDLY!! This image (below)

Is taken from the trailer for the Magnus protocol, and I’m sure a lot of people are familiar with it already. The two things I want to draw attention to here are the J.01 and J.02 lines. J1 and M1 are… you know… Jon and Martin. But the J2 doesn’t really have an answer unless you think that it’s Jonah, whose body was never found when the Panopticon fell. Honestly I don’t know what’s up with the master and slave lines but I’m sure those (and the fact that they failed/are undefined) is important.

What I DO recognize however is the date that’s set for 2023 at the very bottom. Keeping in mind that Alice mentioned all this freaky stuff started happening a year ago, and the series takes place in 2024, this is likely the very event we’re seeing of the computers being all wonked out. Though the question I mostly have here is, did someone (or something) put those three in there intentionally, or did that just happen to be where they went after the end of TMA? Furthermore, why NOW? Why now years later (aside from real-life time happening (because I am 100% sure that Jonny has an answer for this and I want to know it)) in 2023? Is there something special about the specific date? What’s up with the EPA Polution Preventer (and why is it spelled wrong)? The memory test went okay, do the three remember themselves? Do they know where they are?

Okay. OKAY. I’ve rambled on for a while but don’t worry we’re close to the end of my scattered, disjointed thoughts. Because the one question I have now is “Who’s listening?” In TMA it was the Web, right? The web, with tape recorders drawn to the lighter (which I’m pretty sure is what was happening but I might be a lil forgetful). But there’s no lighter here? And we aren’t using tape recorders, we’re using… computers, maybe? A cellphone, possibly? The entities have been shown to not really play nice with technology… but there was ALSO the video of the dude who ate his own computer so I’m honestly not sure what to think. I don’t know if it’s the Web, still. Honestly I don’t even know of Smirke’s Fourteen can be APPLIED here. This might be one of those instances where TMA listeners have to forget some things to make sense of this different world. But if it IS applicable to an entity, the best guess I have would honestly be the Extinction. That might explain the EPA Polution Preventer (seems pretty extinctioncore), it might explain Jon Martin and (possibly!) Jonah here, having just come from an apocalypse/the end of the world/AN EXTINCTION EVENT, but aside from that? I honestly am not sure. Because we don’t know how many of the entities are actually intelligent. Sure they can like and dislike things but it’s kind of been very solidified in how much they aren’t very thinking, aside from the web.

So uh… what’s the deal? I have… no idea. I am frothing at the mouth in anticipation. I love this podcast. I love both of these podcasts… this is amazing… this is fantastic. I’m in love. Please anyone tell me if you have any ideas or counter evidence for any of this because I would LOVE to talk to you about all this!!

#the magnus archives #tma #tma podcast #the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #tmagp speculation #tma spoilers #magnus pod #seriously losing my mind right now this is amazing #having a lot of fun and thoughts and bouncing up and down right now

[sunsafewriting]

AU. Chapter 4

Ava starts a dumb YouTube channel where she makes complicated recipes badly. Maybe people show up for that, but they kind of stick around for her conversations with her roommate — who stays off-screen. Mostly.

chapter 4 excerpt:

The new camera is so fucking shiny. Ava holds it, enjoys the newness of it, the sleekness, while Beatrice flips through the manual. This is how it goes, whenever they get a new thing; Ava wants to touch it, and Beatrice wants to read about it. 

Ava, as she does every time, takes the opportunity to say, "It’s probably super intuitive. We don’t need instructions."

Deriding guides, lists, textbooks, and other itemised sets of information is always a worthwhile investment: Beatrice, very predictably, gets this expression that suggests they may as well walk into traffic if all the structure of the world can be so easily jettisoned. 

"This is a very precise and multifunctional piece of equipment," Beatrice replies. "A thorough understanding of —"

Ava just lets the rest of it wash over her. The essence of the speech is more or less that Beatrice would like Ava to get the absolute most out of her camera, which necessitates an inventory of every single function and feature, so that she fully appreciates her options. 

Ava, by contrast, is of the opinion that the knobs and dials are things she can fuck around with and figure out as she goes, and that the way to get the absolute most of out of her camera is to point it at Beatrice. 

She appreciates her options just fine. 

Beatrice reads the manual in English and then in German; every time, for every appliance, Beatrice checks a minimum of two languages, to account for any lapses in translation. 

While she's doing that, Ava has managed to pop the batteries in and figure out the memory card.

She spins off the lens cap and brings the camera up to her eye, peering through the viewfinder. It's the first camera she's ever owned in her life, and she likes the feeling of it much better than her phone: the weight of it, how the zoom requires twisting and fiddling rather than swiping her fingers, the delightful tactility of the button under her finger.

And yes, it’s supposed to be for her channel, for making better quality videos, but there’s a reason she got this model instead of a lameass camcorder. She also wants to take four hundred million photographs of literally everything in existence — okay, some things more than others — and conveniently, she wants to push this button four hundred million times, so everything is going to work out terrifically. 

"This is going to consume my entire life and brain, I can just feel it," Ava murmurs, adjusting the zoom again, listening to the faint whirring sound it makes. 

She pans the camera across to the actual expert in consuming Ava's life and brain for comment, but Beatrice is frowning down at the warranty information and has very likely not noticed that Ava is talking at all.

"Bea?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I take a photograph of you?"

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"How about we go for a walk?" Beatrice suggests. "I'm sure there are plenty of photographable things outside that you’ll be able to experiment on."

The opportunity to make an experimenting joke is right there, but if Ava goes down that road, they'll never make it back. 

"Just a super quick snap of you, and then we can go on a walk," she bargains. 

Beatrice makes a vague gesture that Ava recognises as a yes before her gaze drops back to the instruction booklet, her finger curling the edge of one of the pages. "I suppose. What do you —"

"Got it!"

It took Ava an age to get Beatrice to smile in photographs without looking somewhat wary and pained — the pictures she has from the first few months of their friendship seem to suggest that Beatrice had a mild headache for all of it — but now, Beatrice smiles like Beatrice, even when there's a camera. 

[cont. on ao3]

#more nonsense from the nonsense conference #but at this point i feel like you all know what you're getting from me #avatrice #ava x beatrice #avatrice fic #avatrice fanfic #sunsafewriting

[befemininenow]

Welcome to my blog, stranger.

You probably got here by accident, or by intention. Whether the algorithm or a shared post got you here, it was appealing enough to get you here. Maybe it was the girls in the pics. Maybe it was the captions that persuaded you. Maybe  the descriptions in the posts were relatable. Or maybe even the blog’s name caught your attention. Whatever it was that led you here, welcome to my trans girl caption blog. It’s mostly captions and post descriptions based on the fantasies and IRL experiences of trans girls on a random POV. They may even “crack your egg”. While they may not speak for all trans girls, it may be relatable to you. If you’re not comfortable with this topic, expect BDSM-related posts, and/or are transphobic, turn away now.

Update as of May 13, 2023: I made the decision back in April to instantly “retire” from TG captions. You can read more about my choice in this link: https://www.tumblr.com/befemininenow/714093164361924608/its-time?source=share. However, thanks to the overwhelming support from fans and people alike, it persuaded me to push the “retirement date” to a few more weeks and wrap up my final 69 caption posts. Also read about it here: https://www.tumblr.com/befemininenow/715369328081518592/i-may-have-quit-making-captions. If you don’t see anything new after I uploaded my 69th caption post, that’s because I finally finished. My blog will serve as an archive from now on until Tumblr somehow deletes it.

What is this blog about?

It is caption blog detailing the experiences of trans girl’s (or woman’s) while closeted or out. Some posts even detail my own experiences dating as back as I can remember. Imagery of girls, cis and trans, are generally used in relation to the captions. Each experience is unique, so don’t feel bad if you can’t relate to posts like “anime girls cracked my egg”. I seldom share other topics related to issues trans girls often face, as well as even share a small biography of trans girls in a few of my posts.

Who is it aimed for?

It is aimed at those who identify as transgender, questioning, fluid, and those who wish to explore their feminine side. These captions are meant to detail experiences and fantasies that trans girls have even before transitioning. However, captions are not meant for everyone, just like how not every trans girl is meant to be a programmer (sorry if I crushed your dreams).

Why did you create this blog?

Simply put, the disturbing amount of forced feminization, BDSM, and sissy blogs overflowing this site motivated me to do something different. Although few of these blogs have at least something redeeming to the point where I may reblog it and attach a description, the vast majority repels me due to its negative, humiliating energy. Unfortunately, caption blogs focused on the experiences of trans girls are either inactive or overshadowed. Lastly, I wanted to share a few personal experiences of exploring my identity through captions and post descriptions. 

Where do you get your sources?

I get them through Google searches, social sites, and of course, other blogs from this site. Captions and descriptions are also based on what I learned, read, and heard through trans girls both online and IRL.

When do you usually post?

I post almost daily, or when I’m in the mood. I often reblog from other sources, but it is becoming a rare instance. Thursdays and Fridays are throwback and flashback posts recalling my own experiences or to jog the reader’s memory of seeing a familiar picture. I even point out the original pic source for trivia, or how the pic influenced me in making the captioned pic.

How will this help?

It is meant to affirm and validate any person who often deals with denial about being transgender. Although some of these captions seem a little teasing and may be seen as a fetish, everything is voluntary. However, NEVER use captions to treat gender dysphoria! Seek professional help if you are dealing with it! Also, please research the effects of HRT pills (hormone replacement therapy) as the changes may be permanent depending on the individual. They are not like Senzu Beans that will inflate you if taking more than needed. You WILL get actual and unpleasant side effects if abused.

Can you do any requests?

I’m sorry, but I rarely have the time to check back my blog or messages anymore. If I don’t read your message for some reason, don’t take it as an offense. I’m simply quite reserved and busy IRL. It could take time before I check back. Also, no, I will not take your request to “feminize” you! Fake “mistresses, doms, godesses, and daddies” are also out of the question! I had an awful intro experience online role-playing with them and I am never doing that again!

Extra: I’m a “sissy”, femboy, crossdresser (CD), etc. Am I welcome here?

I won’t place a ban on you if you are a “sissy”, a femboy, or a crossdresser as I have to acknowledge a good portion of my followers are of that category. However, I do not associate myself with the term “sissy” as I take it as a derogatory word used to invalidate someone’s gender identity. If you’re looking for “sissy” or “forced fem” stuff in this blog, don’t bother. You will dehydrate as fast as SpongeBob and Patrick on Sandy’s treedome.

Last: A little bit about you?

I’m a 20-something closeted trans girl who has an internal female side that I want to express. There are days I feel feminine and there are days I feel fluid with my gender. While I’m not out yet due to personal and social issues, I know I will finally be my own self once the chance comes. While I won’t reveal my actual age, I am one of the older cuspers born between millennial and Gen Z. Favorite things include, but not limited to, anime, games, pop culture, and social media. You will catch that a lot in this blog.

I hope this Q&A solved most of your questions and doubts. Enjoy your stay here. You’ll probably find something you like. Checking out.

[dj-of-the-coven]

Hit me with your favorite defunct website

You will regret this.

Have you ever felt isolated by the modern internet, or nostalgic for the way that you can vaguely--but not entirely--remember experiencing as a child? Well I can't speak for everyone, but the past few years certainly have left me feeling that way. Certain nostalgia posts made circa 2021 got my brain churning in that direction, dredging up ancient memories of reading personal blogs and spending hours on flash game websites that were more or less entirely nuked from the internet by my adulthood. The more I remembered, the more distressed I felt by their absence, even though it'd been years since I even remembered most of that stuff existed...

Aside from Animal Jam, I wasn't sure if anything I knew from my mid 2000s-early 2010s childhood experience was out there on the web somewhere--so, I did as any normal teenager would and I started doing copious amounts of research into a subject that basically didn't exist. I discovered the internet archive entirely on accident; spent days examining the layout of early youtube and any other sites I could remember, navigating by year and trying to figure out when everything took a turn for the worst. I started browsing through webcore tags on tumblr just to get close to what I wanted, because "old internet" yielded few results at the time, and google's input was less than useless. Only a few blogs on tumblr had the kind of content I was looking for, but eventually I struck gold when one of them pointed me in a brand new direction of hope.

This is when I discovered neocities.

Of course, I was already familiar with the webhosting platform of geocities from the old days. Geocities was one of the primary hosting platforms that I remembered without the help of research, but you may already have guessed by the lack of a link that it's dead--and you'd be right. It actually shut down back in 2009, which I learned through the same post that advertised its independent successor. For some reason, I'd always associated the memory with the time I was in kindergarten, but the date of shutdown actually confirmed that I must've known about it earlier, making the platform one of my first memories! It's been gone for a while, but not the impression of it that I had as a core pillar in my early web experience. And then there was neocities. What was that? I immediately went to investigate.

Of course, I was mostly doing this in between two late-night bussing jobs to afford my shitty apartment, aside from being in my final year of high school, so progress was slow. At the starbucks next to my school, I was always holed up in the corner during my short window of off-time with a coffee and my computer setup. It took some time, but I began browsing through the top pages one-by-one, following links and cataloguing where they led to. I took stock of which sites linked to one another. Eventually, I noticed a pattern: a lot of them linked back to a website called sadgrl.online, a purple and black neon haven of internet culture run by a webmaster known as Sadness. Everyone say hello to our defunct website of the hour!

At the time, the thing was absolutely bustling. Almost all of the most popular sites on neocities were linked to Sadness' site somehow, usually through her button collection. My own personal site, which I started building around that time, also contained one of her web buttons. She has several, but her most popular one looks like this. (I apologize if you're on mobile. It will NOT look good.)

I was intrigued! In a community so removed from the usual mainstays of the internet, there existed a blog that hundreds of neocities users were visiting every day, and I very quickly became one of them once I finished looking through her thought-provoking essays on programming and web culture. Her site went through a number of layout changes while I was a regular visitor--the vast majority of them are catalogued on the site itself if not also on the internet archive. It was a blog dedicated to the exact thing that I was interested in; what I had been searching for since the modern web started rubbing me the wrong way in my burgeoning adulthood. Her page prominently featured an essay on the faults of centralized internet and her journey to foster a space more accepting of individuality, information, and creativity without thought of profit. I was totally enamored, especially with the appealing gothic graphics that surrounded the lengthy text!

(here's a capture from August 2022)

Aside from Sadness, several other active community members had formed an alliance of websites dedicated to the preservation of old internet culture and the cultivation of unique online spaces. These people called themselves the Yesterweb. The yesterweb was run mainly by webmasters known as Auzzie Jay, Madness, Tsvety, Grafo, Cinni, Vincent, Iris, and Sadness herself, but webmaster Melon (of MelonLand fame) also ran a forum that was parallel to the movement. The yesterweb was a massive project that included an online newspaper, a web radio station, several introductory programming manuals, a forum, web-themed essays from neocities users, button makers, layout creators, and terms and definitions for people new to the decentralized experience. It was easy to get lost in it all... for a time, the rabbit hole felt endless and exciting.

Every day, I returned to check updates on Sadness' various projects while I began work on my own website. She had totally convinced me of my own convictions--I bought the dream hook, line, and sinker. My only goal for a while was for my site to eventually be included in the yesterweb webring alongside all these amazing programmers. I wanted to contribute to the world of creativity that I could only dream of when HTML was still just meaningless jargon to me! But I was too slow learning the languages necessary, and the yesterweb was just growing too fast to be contained. I dipped for a few months to focus on my move to a new city, and by the time I returned, the whole yesterweb had disappeared scorched-earth style.

Okay, so what the fuck happened?

Currently, on the front page of what used to be a hopeful and inspiring collection of internet resources, there's a long essay made by the webmasters who founded the project, detailing burnout and massive stress due to the community growing faster than they could moderate it. It is certainly not poorly-intentioned. However, the discovery was absolutely devastating to me. My dream had gone up in smoke before I could even try to reach it, and I was apparently a part of the problem by caring so much about it. The radio station is gone. The webring was deleted. The forums shut down. My favorite webmasters' sites were no longer being updated. I felt awful for the people who had been affected by all this stress and pressure, but after so long of working to join the movement, I felt betrayed by their abandonment. The yesterweb disappeared in almost exactly the same way the old web did the first time--ripped from my fingers before I was able and ready to participate. And I can only wonder... what happened to the goal of turning the internet back into a place for us? How did it get to the point of ruining these people's lives within the span of maybe two years? I'm really not sure. There's a lot about this story I still don't know, and there's not really a way to access the drama that happened in a discord server that I never joined. The information published on the yesterweb's page is the only reliable source I'm currently aware of.

Still, in spite of it all, Sadness' website has remained one of my major inspirations in programming and web philosophy. I may be in mourning about a dream that died before it could truly live, but whenever I think about the months that I spent eagerly browsing her site for updates, I remember that spark that initially inspired me to begin researching the net in the first place. She was a major player in the game--not the only one. The website that she created was my favorite while it was active, and now it is my favorite website that is currently defunct.

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

#web revival #neocities #programming #personal websites

[kanerallels]

A little late, but the first few chapters of my first-ish Chenford fic are up! They're also prompt fulfillment for @monthly-challenge's Februfluff, day 27: stuck together. First chapter under the cut, the second is up on AO3!

Some people had a hard time believing in the impossible. Lucy Chen had never been one of those people. Sure, it probably helped that she was a vigilante who could manipulate light energy with her bare hands, but that hadn’t always been the case. There had been a time she was just like everyone else.

But that had been a long time ago. Now, when night fell, she was Lyra, one of many vigilantes that patrolled the streets of L.A., looking for people in need and crime to fight. 

Usually, her version of crime fighting saw her out on the streets in her disguise, fighting muggers. But there were the occasional circumstances that required a slightly more delicate approach. And today was one of those circumstances— a restaurant that one of her fellow vigilantes suspected was running drugs out of the back room.

Hence why she was sitting at a table in a nice dress, eating dinner across from the last person in the world she would have expected to be sitting across from about two months ago.

Lucy had met Tim Bradford approximately three months into her work as Lyra. Ex-cop turned woodworking shop owner, he’d been serious and a little grim, but respectful. Lucy had been curious about him when Jackson, her roommate, mentioned him, and had slowly gotten to know him better as time went by— his shop was a few storefronts down from the coffee shop where Lucy was currently employed.

Around the same time, she’d met Orion— the stern, incredibly boss vigilante who was known as the Huntsman by local gangs. He was notorious for his intense attitude, vicious but generally nonlethal attacks, and strict adherence to police procedure when necessary.

Lucy had mostly just found him annoying. Especially since he had a habit of showing up in the middle of her work and lecturing her on what she was doing wrong. And he called her “boot” a lot— which, thanks to being roommates with a cop, she knew what meant. This did not make it any less obnoxious.

They’d gotten off to a rough start, but it wasn’t long before Lucy found herself working with Orion more and more often. He was smart, and they made a good team. And he’d saved her life more times than she could count at this point— although it was definitely true the other way around as well. Which Lucy never let him forget.

All things considered, she shouldn’t have been surprised to find out Orion was Tim. The attitude, some of the jokes, the rookie cop nickname and the stickler for procedure attitude? It made perfect sense.

Somehow, it had still surprised her when she found out. Although her reaction had definitely surprised Tim, and Lucy snorted in amusement at the memory.

Glancing up from his steak, Tim lifted an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” Lucy said, waving a hand. “Just— do you remember when I found out who you were?”

“You mean when I found out who you were?” Tim corrected her. “I basically handed it to you on a platter.”

Rolling her eyes, Lucy said, “As if I didn’t do the same thing for you. Anyways, I was just thinking about it, how I reacted.”

“Oh, I remember that part pretty well,” Tim said with a dramatic wince, and Lucy scoffed.

“If you didn’t want to get slapped, you shouldn’t have called me boot so many times.”

“You’re sounding a little too pleased with yourself there, Chen.”

“Uh-huh.” Holding back a grin, Lucy glanced around the restaurant again. It was a nice place, with a bar at the back and instrumental music playing in the background, overlaid with people’s conversation. You wouldn’t think a place like this would be a front of some kind.

“Hey.” Tim’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she looked back at him. His expression serious, he said, “Stay sharp. Just because it’s got a pretty cover doesn’t mean the Ghost’s intel is off. Generally, she knows what she’s talking about.”

Nodding, Lucy said, “Right, got it. But— how exactly do we find what we’re looking for, here? I mean, we’re probably not going to just stumble across a cash exchange— and even if we did, we’re civilians right now.”

“Which is why tonight is about surveillance and keeping a low profile,” Tim told her. “We watch the waiters and the rest of the staff, and if we can, we’ll get a look inside the kitchens. Anything we can get pictures or proof of, we bring to Lopez, and she gets a search warrant.”

“Got it.” Tapping her fingers against the tabletop, Lucy resisted the urge to look around the restaurant again. No matter how much she wanted to catch these people, she couldn’t make herself conspicuous. It was better to focus on what was in front of her instead.

Namely, Tim, who looked just as impatient as she felt— if the people around them were supposed to think this was a date, they weren’t giving much of an impressive performance. Time to change things up a little.

Leaning forward, Lucy said, “Okay. Tell me about work.”

“What?”

Lucy couldn’t hold back a grin at Tim’s baffled expression. “Come on— we’re supposed to be on a date. If we just sit here in impatient silence, that’s not really going to sell it.”

Nodding, Tim said, “Good point. Uh… work was good. Celina’s finally learning how to use the woodstain without getting it everywhere, which is an upside. She’s a good kid, though. Nolan was right to hire her— don’t tell them I said that, though.”

“What, do you think they’ll figure out that you have a heart?” Lucy said, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly. I can’t be seen as the good guy here, you know.” Tim quipped back, and she laughed.

“I’m pretty sure that ship has long since sailed.”

“That’s not what you said when we first met.”

Rolling her eyes, Lucy said, “Okay, that barely counts. You were intentionally mean then— wait. Which time are we talking about?”

“Which time are you talking about?” Tim countered.

“The second first time,” Lucy said. “You showed up and immediately started telling me everything I was doing wrong—”

“To be fair, you could have been killed if I hadn’t—”

“—and you wouldn’t stop calling me boot. The first first time you were a lot nicer. Or… less mean, at least.”

“Because you were a customer,” Tim said, taking a drink from his glass of water, “not a rookie vigilante who was about to let a two bit criminal stab her because she hadn’t secured him properly.”

Pointing at him, Lucy said, “See, if this was a real date, this is the part where I’d throw a glass of water in your face and stomp off dramatically.”

Holding up his hands, Tim said, “Hey, you’ve improved a lot since then.”

“Improved?”

“Well, what do you want me to say?”

Tapping her finger against her chin thoughtfully, Lucy said, “Hmm. How about… “Lucy, you’re the best rookie I’ve ever trained”?”

“First of all, I already said that you were one of the best,” Tim pointed out. “Second of all, you’re not a cop, so it barely even counts.”

“It counts!”

Tim opened his mouth to argue, but something caught Lucy’s eye— a man moving towards the kitchen. In one hand, he held a briefcase, and Lucy could make out the clear outlines of a gun under his suit coat.

“Tim,” she said quietly. His gaze snapped to her immediately, and she nodded to the man disappearing into the kitchen. 

Understanding flashed across his face, and she saw his hand twitch, the way it did when he wanted to reach for a gun he no longer wore at his side. “Let’s go,” he said, getting to his feet.

Lucy rose and followed him across the wide main room. None of the other customers so much as glanced at them, and Lucy silently thanked her lucky stars for that.

The main room was partitioned off by low wooden walls framing, but not completely obscuring the dining area. To their left, a walkway led to the entrance. To the right there were two doorways— one leading to the bathrooms. The other at the end of the hall, a swinging door, opened into the kitchen.

As they moved around the corner, Lucy glanced at Tim. “Hey— let me take the first look,” she said, keeping her voice low. “It might look less suspicious if I’m spotted then if you are.”

He gave a brief nod, hanging back a little. As Lucy headed towards the kitchen door, she couldn’t hold back a flicker of pleasure. It couldn’t have been that long ago that Tim wouldn’t have trusted her with this role. Things had changed a lot between them.

Coming to a stop next to the door, Lucy peered over the low swinging door. There was the usual bustle of a restaurant kitchen— cooks weaving their way around each other, the clatter of pans and sounds of voices.

And then Lucy spotted the man with the briefcase. He was talking to another man, with short blond hair and a scar cutting across his brow. The two of them spoke in voices low enough that Lucy couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. 

The briefcase sat open on the counter in between them, the contents obscured by the blond man. If I can just get a better angle… Quietly, Lucy stepped closer, her hand coming to rest on the top of the door as she peered into the kitchen.

She caught a brief glimpse of what could only be cash— stacks of it, lining the inside of the briefcase— before the door under her hand moved slightly, letting out what felt like a shatteringly loud creak.

Both men turned at the sound. Lucy’s heart nearly stopped, and she ducked away, turning her face so they wouldn’t catch sight of her. She couldn’t hear what they were saying over the noise in the kitchen, but she knew criminals. They were paranoid, and with good reason. Which meant there would be someone out here to check in a few seconds.

She sensed rather than saw Tim moving up behind her. “They saw you?”

“Only barely,” Lucy said. Her heart had regained momentum, and was pounding against her collarbone now. “But someone’s going to be out here soon.”

It wouldn’t be long— and they wouldn’t be able to make it back to their table without being spotted. Better to stay here and come up with an excuse, and there was only one that Lucy could think of.

Spinning to face him, she said, “Kiss me.”

His jaw dropped, just slightly. “What?”

Lucy caught what sounded like a creak behind them. Abandoning any pretense of explaining the situation to Tim, she caught hold of his face, and kissed him.

He didn’t freeze, which shouldn’t have surprised her. Tim was a natural at adapting, and they’d been working together long enough that it wouldn’t be too hard for him to pick up on what was going on.

What did surprise her was the kiss. It was supposed to be awkward, embarrassing even, to kiss Tim. It was supposed to be something she wanted to get over with quickly, and not linger on.

It was none of those things. It was the opposite, and so much more. Her heart was pounding and she knew there was something she was supposed to remember, but all she could really register was Tim— his lips against hers, his hand at her waist, tangling in the fabric of her dress.

And then someone cleared their throat, loud enough that it broke through the trance she was in and reminded Lucy where she was, and why. Pulling back, she made eye contact with the man who’d been carrying the briefcase.

Before he could have a chance to speak, she did. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Lucy said, letting an embarrassed half-smile cross her face. She was pretty sure she was a little flushed, which definitely couldn’t hurt the illusion. “We, ah, we didn’t realize anyone was back here, did we?”

For a minute, she didn’t know if Tim would chime in— he was completely still. Lucy could feel his heart beating against her palm resting on his chest. But then he said, “Nope. Is this area off limits?”

“No,” the man said after a brief pause. “But the kitchen is. Why don’t you two go back to your seats?”

Lucy shrugged, flicking a nonchalant look at Tim. “I guess this can wait until later. Come on, babe.”

Catching hold of his hand, Lucy gently tugged Tim after her, forcing herself to move casually and not look back. When they reached their table, she sank into her chair and looked down at her half empty plate. As Tim sat across from her, she asked quietly, “Is he still watching us?”

“He just turned and went back into the kitchen,” Tim told her, and Lucy let out a long breath.

Finally, she looked up at him. His expression was set in the Tim Bradford Cop Expression, which was… understandable, honestly. “Hey— I’m sorry about springing that on you,” Lucy told him, feeling herself flush a little. “It just seemed like the best move at the time.”

“It was,” Tim said, shrugging. “It kept us from getting caught, so, you know. Good work on that.”

“Yeah, you too,” Lucy said, and nearly groaned at her own words. Things were awkward now— and why wouldn’t they be? It made a lot more sense for things to feel awkward than for them to feel… the way they had earlier.

She shoved the thought aside as Tim said, “I don’t think we’re going to get anything else here tonight. Should we—”

“Call a night, yeah,” Lucy finished for him. “Great idea. We can debrief and regroup tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Tim turned and waved for a waiter, and Lucy sat back in her chair, holding back a wince.

They paid for their dinner and left the restaurant. Tim had driven them there, so he drove her back to her place first, and walked her up to her apartment. When they reached the door, Lucy hesitated before she went in.

“We’re okay, right?” she asked. The rest of the thoughts that had been boiling in her head came rushing out as she continued. “I— I know it was out of nowhere and— and weird, right? Obviously it was weird, I just know that PDA makes people uncomfortable, so the guy wouldn’t have questioned it as much, and… yeah.”

Tim had waited patiently through her whole rant. When she finally trailed off, he said, “Lucy. It’s fine. I was a cop, remember? I wasn’t a UC, but I still get it. It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh— of course, right,” Lucy said, a little twinge going through her. Of course he’d get it. And of course it wouldn’t affect him. She should never have thought otherwise, even for a second. “Okay, glad we got that settled. Um— talk to you tomorrow?”

“Talk to you tomorrow, Chen.”

And then Lucy was stepping into her apartment, the door was closing behind her, and she was pretty sure she had a headache.

So she did the logical thing and went to bed before Jackson or Tamara could show up and interrogate her about her date or who she’d been with, internally swearing to not think about the whole thing until tomorrow.

Her dreams had other plans. It was like her traitorous brain insisted on reminding her of the kiss— replaying parts of it over and over again until it was hard not to think about it.

Which was stupid. She didn’t have any reason to think about this so much, Lucy reminded herself as she got up to have breakfast before work. It was just one kiss. Didn’t mean anything, especially not from Tim of all people.

Right, her mind said. Tim. Who you used to be interested in. And WHY did she have to remember that right at this moment?

So she’d been interested in him when they first met. She’d been curious about the admittedly handsome, stern stranger who only softened on very rare occasions. But it hadn’t been long before it had been clear to Lucy that Tim wasn’t looking for romance, with her or anyone else. So she’d stuck with just friends, especially after finding out he was Orion. Romance with Orion was unthinkable on a level she couldn’t begin to comprehend.

Or it had been, anyways.

Okay, enough of that. Lucy pushed the thought out of her mind. And continued to do so as she got ready and went into work.

Lucy had worked at Wellington’s Coffee for almost a year now. It was a nice shop— the decor practical and sturdy, matching the personality of the owner, and the wide windows at the front filled the blue walled shop with light. And, luckily for Lucy, she clocked in today right when the lunch rush started. So she had plenty of time to take her mind off of the fiasco that was last night.

Not that that stopped her co-workers from bombarding her with questions. And they weren’t the only ones.

“So, did I hear you went on a date last night?”

As Lucy passed Aaron his coffee, she frowned at him. “Where did you hear that?”

“If I tell you, will you answer the question?” he countered. The younger man was a usual at their shop, and a good friend. He was also a little too invested in Lucy’s love life ever since she’d asked for his advice on how to break up with her last boyfriend. 

Sighing, Lucy said, “Yes. To both, but it wasn’t a big deal— I don’t think we’re going to go out again.”

Aaron’s eyebrows went up. “Really? Cause that’s not what I heard.”

Lucy frowned. “Okay, where exactly are you getting this information?”

“Uh—”

“Lucy!”

Both she and Aaron looked up at the voice calling her name. Tim was striding across the coffeeshop towards her, his expression serious. Which was pretty on brand for him, but Lucy had gotten good at reading the different types of seriousness. There was definitely something wrong right now.

Giving Aaron a brief nod, he turned to her. “Hey. We need to talk.”

“Okay,” Lucy said. “I don’t think anyone’s using the break room right now— follow me.”

She moved out from behind the counter and towards the door marked “employees only” at the back of the shop, Tim on her heels. As she moved, she saw her co-worker, Dark, moving out of the back room, and waved to get his attention. “Hey— I’m taking my break. Can you watch the register?”

“...sure,” Dark said slowly, his voice making it clear he had some questions. Most likely about Tim being there— but honestly, Lucy had neither the time nor energy to handle that.

The break room was, as predicted, empty. Lucy didn’t bother taking a seat, but turned to face Tim. “Okay— what’s up?”

He hesitated, which was definitely rare for him. “Ah… okay. We were seen last night?”

Frowning, Lucy said, “Wait. What do you mean— we weren’t even there as Lyra and Orion, how could we be seen?”

“Not… that kind of seen,” Tim said. “My former watch commander was there having dinner. With his wife.”

What does— and then it clicked, and Lucy’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, no— did they see—”

“If he and Luna’s visit to the shop this morning, and her comments about the lovely young woman I had with me are anything to judge by… yeah.”

“Crap,” Lucy whispered, with as much emphasis as she could muster up. Starting to pace back and forth, she rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Okay. This is fine— we can figure this out. I mean, we can’t tell them we were undercover, but we can figure this out. What did you tell them?”

Grimacing, Tim said, “That it was a one time thing, and they were reading too much into it. I don’t think they bought it— and they’re not the only ones who know. Luna told their daughter, who’s friends with Nolan’s kid, who told him, who told Celina—”

“Who told Aaron,” Lucy finished, the realization hitting her like a bus. “That explains a lot. Ugh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to blow up this way.”

“Hey,” Tim said, his voice stern but with just a hint of gentleness that definitely didn’t make Lucy’s heart flutter. Because that would be absurd. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have predicted this.”

“Couldn’t have predicted our friends being incredibly nosy?” Lucy said, lifting an eyebrow.

“Well, that’s pretty much a given at this point,” Tim said wryly. “But it’s still not your fault. They’ll forget about this after a week or two— let’s not worry about it right now.”

“Right,” Lucy said, nodding. “Focus on the job instead. Um… oh! I saw what was in the briefcase last night.”

She gave Tim a quick recap of what she’d seen, from the cash to the man with the scar who’d received it. He listened with a deep, thoughtful frown, not speaking until she finished her description. “I’ll have to check with Lopez— but that does sound like a felon she’s been watching for a while now— Valen Rudor, I think. Guy’s got a long list of charges, and a warrant out for his arrest. But if we can’t get proof he’s there—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucy said, nodding slowly. “Okay— any ideas how?”

“Actually, yeah,” Tim said. “It involves going back to that restaurant again tonight, and you doing some light sneaking while I start a fight. You game?”

Oh, this was a bad idea. After the first time, putting herself in a situation where she had to pretend to be Tim’s date again? There was potential for this to end very badly.

But there was a dangerous felon out there who needed to be stopped, and Lucy didn’t back down from a fight. “Count me in,” she said.After all, she thought as she headed back to work, what’s the worst that could happen?

#februfluff2024 #chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #aaron thorsen #the rookie #tucy #tw drug mention #tw kissing #fake dating #writing stories is a kind of magic too #chenford vigilante au

[baybaybear1]

Living well is the best revenge, so they say. In Jake's quiet fury at the dismissive, heartless way everyone spoke of his brother's death and the complete lack of empathy he found at every turn and corner, he decides to find a way to live the best life he can possibly conceive, with the opportunity Tommy left behind for him: a fresh start on a new world... just not exactly the way the RDA vultures meant.

(In which Jake Sully pulls the ultimate con on every person who failed to treat his brother's memory with respect, and every person who failed to be kind to their fellow man.)

One of my favorite paragraphs from the story

"His name is Miles, but I call him Spider, because he likes to drive me crazy by trying to climb up anything he can get his little hands on," Paz Soccoro says to the group of fascinated humans and dreamwalkers watching the baby sit on her lap, her hands around his sides to keep him balanced as he reaches for the grass they're all sitting on and tugs at the strands. "He's my little spider monkey .

My little monito . And he's the first human born on Pandora. "

Miles, or Spider, is a little white baby boy with bright blue eyes and ridiculous golden curls. He's got the tiniest little exo-mask on his head that Jake has ever seen

• The tubing is connected to Paz's exo-pack, he doesn't have his own, which is why she can't let him go free like he obviously wants, making little excited noises as he waves his hands and rips up tiny fistfuls of grass.

"He's cute but like... that is the whitest little Latino baby I have ever seen in my life," Asha said, making the group of humans crack up and Spider made more excited noises. "It's like your baby-daddy's genetics took your own out back and had 'em shot."

Even Paz lets out a little laugh. "Yeah.

I've... noticed," she agreed.

Most of the Na'vi have dispersed to give the humans room to... fawn over a baby.

The only people around now are Eytukan, Mo'at, and Neytiri. The humans so far are Jake, Asha, Eve, Haru, Jay, and Craig.

Jake can see, however, a number of humans trying to get a look as they peer around the roots of Hometree curiously.

Spider makes a loud noise and thrusts his hands out to Jake, bouncing up and down on his mom's lap. Jake reaches out to let Spider grab onto his big blue hand and the baby gives a big mostly-gummy smile. Looks like he's starting to get a few teeth in. Jake feels like he's melting, smiling immediately. "Hi, little man," he says in a pitched voice, and then, more normal, "I would have thought he'd be shy. I mean... I'm huge and blue, he can't

#avatar jake sully #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #avatar recoms #avatar way of water #james cameron avatar #tonowari #avatar ronal #miles quaritch #norm spellman #grace augustine #paz socorro #tom sully #parker selfridge #trudy chacon #mo’at #eytukan

[coexistentialism]

i was curious it you were willing to share how you worked out you had DID and not another dissociative disorder? you talk about the experience differently to what people normally portray and say you generally don't relate to how most people speak about their experiences, so im curious about how you worked out it was a possibility?

(really hoping this doesn't sound like fakeclaiming, that's not at all what I'm trying to do)

No worries, it doesn't sound like fakeclaiming. 👍

Hmmm... This one's hard to answer.

This is mostly speaking from a standpoint of someone who is no longer in an abusive home environment. Although I first started to question it when I was still living with my dad, I don't really have many memories of living there, and I didn't really take it seriously until after moving out.

A LOT of research. An absolute assload of research. Lmfao 😭

Surrounding myself with systems so that I could ask them questions, although this one can also be less helpful and more hurtful. I would stay away from most DID/OSDD-centered Discord servers. I know it sounds weird because I literally own one, but mine is the only good one out there so it's an exception (this is a half-joke 😭)

No, but seriously. A lot of them fucking suck. I have not been in a single good one besides mine throughout my entire years of questioning. This isn't an advertisement to join my server, but yeah 😭

Especially if the server has a lot of minors. It's not a "KiDs ThESe daYS" type of thing, it's more a "a lot of teenagers are highly uneducated about DID and OSDD and many of them tend to gravitate towards the more expected kind of DID presentation, which is. Very unhelpful. For everyone." And other issues too, but yeah, try to stay away from servers with a lot of minors. If you're a minor yourself, I'd say even moreso to try and avoid them if you can.

I recommend the DID/OSDD PsychForums. I still update my own thread every so often. I should've chosen a different username so that I'm not easily noticeable, but I guess it doesn't really matter to me if people figure out what account is mine. It's fairly obvious. If you know and see it, you'll know.

It took me, like, 3 years until I was fully able to really accept that my moods truly are what DID is. It was mostly me asking my therapist a lot "but I'm just always me, I'm always conscious, I'm never just someone else?" And her confirming multiple times that "yes, that is what DID is." Which I know is not very helpful for a lot of people.

I would still be questioning and in doubt if my therapist wasn't able to fully confirm that Yes, These Experiences Really ARE What DID Is.

The hardest part was/is actually trying to relate to the symptoms and such because of how unaware I was/am about my symptoms, and how unrelatable that a lot of the given descriptions of how the symptoms feel for people are.

I have a post in my drafts about what things have helped me and what things have harmed throughout my time questioning, and I'm sure that post would be super helpful when I can finish it one day, might try and see if I can do that later lol

Lots and lots of journaling. It never seems helpful in the moment, but trust me, you will be reading back things you've journaled about and the symptoms will become a lot more apparent.

Just yesterday I was going through my oldest Discord messages between me and an old friend, trying to archive my vents and such mostly, and I was appalled reading how DISTINCTLY different I would be based off of my typing, the things I would talk about, my general personality, and more. I never felt like a different person really, even in these moments when my friends would say I was different, and reading back these messages had me going "who the fuck WAS that HELLO??" 😭

If you use Discord frequently, it can be helpful to look back at old messages and see if you can notice any patterns, or just notice if you're describing any of the symptoms at all. I've been wanting to make a post sharing some of the stuff I've found from old messages where I was perfectly describing things like switching, etc. without even realizing it.

Noticing patterns is the biggest thing. It's the only way I can figure out my alters, is by figuring out patterns of my behaviors, feelings, etc.

It can be easy to dismiss anything and everything as "but that's not DID/not switching/etc. Because (xyz)", but take it from me: no matter how unhelpful you think it is to write something down, do it anyways. Your future self will thank you.

When people told me to try journaling, it frustrated me because I never saw the point because "I always remember the stuff I write down. What's the point? I don't find things I don't remember writing :/" which is still true for the most part, but the thing is, you might write something down and then in the FUTURE read it back and not remember it or not understand it or might notice a pattern, etc. So write shit down! No matter how silly, dumb, unhelpful you think it is.

Also, not sure if this will apply to anyone else, but I sometimes will feel silly/embarrassed/anxious about writing out something, and I have to remind myself that I am the only one who can read these things and I have control over who I may or may not share these things with. If that makes sense? Don't police yourself, kill the cop in your head. Write about anything you want, don't let the cop in your head make you feel cringe or embarrassed or like a bad person for writing certain things. It's okay.

Throw away the community labels. Forget about trying to figure out "do I have OSDD or DID or partial DID or???????-" forget about all of that and just worry about figuring out your experiences.

I wanted to know For Sure whether or not I had DID. I didn't wanna be told "write down your daily symptoms ^w^" I wanted to figure out whether or not I OBJECTIVELY was experiencing the symptoms. At all. Whatsoever. And I didn't know how to do that without having to look super deep trying to see if any of them even applied to me at all in general.

But figuring out your symptoms and experiences is precisely what will help you figure out if you have DID/OSDD.

My dissociative walls have been lessening a lot more precisely because of things like having epiphanies like realizing "oh, I struggle to throw away food when I don't like it/don't want it because growing up I wasn't allowed to jot eat food I didn't want or didn't like and I was shamed for it. I had to go to lengths to hide me trying to discard my food growing up, even going as far as flushing it down the toilet." And then giving myself permission to discard food I don't want and don't like.

Small things like that. Making realizations. They seem unhelpful and dumb in the moment, but they go a long way.

The biggest thing is this: You will figure things out with time. Be patient. Don't push yourself to know everything so soon. I kept expecting myself to have had it "figured it out by now", but it takes time. It takes a lot of time. Time will pass quickly and you will feel as if you made no progress, but time will pass and you will figure out things you didn't realize before.

There's definitely more helpful advice out there, but that's all I got.

People will also say symptom tracking as in "figure out when you dissociate; figure out your flashbacks; etc." But I still don't know how to tell what flashbacks are and I can't tell you if I'm dissociating, so my advice ends here 💀

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