idontbelonghere

she/him | AO3 angelica_barnes | call me angelica or eddie :) | no ship/character/any kind of hate will be tolerated here! only kindness and dark humor allowed ^-^ | also don't expect any kind of consistency from me at all my brain is a bouncy house filled with ghosts and corpses and bright colors and even i don't know what the fuck it's trying to say half the time | Ravenclaw | Apollo & Hades' kid (i'm basically a mashup of both i dunno Athena and Persephone are proably in there too somewhere) | INFJ | no main fandom, i just kind of bounce around over the months | BY THE WAY NONE OF THE GIFS HERE ARE MINE ALL CREDIT GOES TO THE OWNERS I'M JUST THE ONE WHO HAS TOO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT FICTIONAL CHARACTERS AND MUSIC AND FEELS THE NEED TO MAKE THAT EVERYONE'S PROBLEM | icon credit: chemicalcataclysm (thank you!!!)

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Hi, everyone.

Teensy weensy little announcement—as of today, I’ll be taking a hiatus from updating this blog.

Since I joined it last year, I’ve found Tumblr to be largely detrimental to my mental health. I second guess all of my opinions now and find it difficult to enjoy the fandom realities I’ve built for myself without constantly worrying about what others think of my content. I’ve received many hateful and rude comments, all of which have severely impacted my self-esteem. I’m aware that I have many controversial opinions—I’m pro-Snape and pro-Snily/anti-canon-Jily (HP), I ship Kliego (TUA), I have a queer interpretation of Encanto, etc.—but I’m proud of those perspectives, and I can’t and won’t change them for people who are unwilling to agree to disagree.

Kindness is the theme of this blog. Every day, I try to post a quote, a headcanon, a story, a song, or a chat post that will make you smile. I support a world in which everyone respects each other’s opinions and views on fictional characters, and I have no desire to be part of a culture that constantly politicizes harmless fun, gatekeeps and polices media and its interpretations, and upholds double standards and hypocrisy both in their viewpoints and their treatment of others. Fandom should be a community of supportive and inspiring ideas, and instead it is a warzone of supposed “morality” and cruel cancel culture.

There is a person behind this screen. There is a person behind every username, every bio, every post. And everyone, no matter who they like or what they read or how they express, deserves to be treated with kindness and respect, and to indulge in the fandoms and interpretations they love without being completely torn apart by hateful people who would rather tear somebody down than put any sort of happiness into the world. That kind of behavior is not okay.

To those who have ever been mean to someone—I’m disappointed in you. You need to do better, and I believe you can. Next time you get angry at someone else’s post, just keep scrolling. Mind your own business and we’ll all be happier for it.

To those who have been supportive and kind, and who have followed this blog and its content—thank you. I’m so happy that you’ve found something you love here, and I hope that it continues to make you smile any time you come back to it. I’m honored to have been a part of your life.

And to anyone who has ever had their enjoyments torn apart and screamed at—you are loved. You are valid. You deserve to enjoy whatever you enjoy in whatever way that you enjoy it, and I hope that you find happiness, peace, and self-empowerment in all of your amazing interpretations and expression.

I will still occasionally post AO3 links to new stories as I finish them, and possibly chat posts and songs too. But I won’t be posting every day, nor will I be posting on a consistent schedule anymore. However, you are still welcome to reach out to me at any time, and I will try to answer, if slower than usual.

Thank you for everything. Have a nice day, y’all. Be kind. ❤️❤️❤️

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Aaron remembered who he used to be on a random Monday in March two years ago, then promptly spilled tea all over the dining hall floor. Across the room, Alexander stood with coffee dripping down his fingers, his face slack, his eyes struck through with light. “Aaron,” he said. His hand fell to his side, right where the bullet hit. “Aaron, baby, oh my god.” or, love perseveres.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Rhonda does not know as much as she should, but she knows this boy is not supposed to be here. “Well?” Janet gestures to Simon, who sits smelling slightly like smoke at one of the cafeteria tables. “I found him in my scar with Mr. Martin. Isn’t he alive?” Simon looks between all of them, breathing heavily through his nose, like a very angry cow. Rhonda misses cows. Her aunt had some out on her farm and every time they’d visit Rhonda would pet their noses and feed them grass from the palm of her hand. All of those cows are definitely dead now.   or,   maybe leaving was never the answer.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Rusty rolls his eyes again, harder this time. People think Rusty follows Danny, but the truth is Danny follows Rusty. If Rusty wants to keep Danny out of trouble, all he has to do is say no. He crumples up his hot dog paper and shoves it into Danny’s chest. “We’re not doing it. That’s that.”   or,   Rusty’s a skittish cat, Danny’s a dog who doesn’t understand why the cat he abandoned twice doesn’t want to snuggle with him, and their nineteen handlers are very tired.   or,   I have been waiting twenty years for you to wake up and love me. — Ellie (Yesterday)

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Hey,” Emma says. She blinks at him and leans in, then stops. Richie imagines she’s kissed his cheek and feels slightly better. “Hey. I’ll be here right at two to pick you up. Anyone even looks at you wrong and I’ll kill them.” Richie nods. He forces himself to open the door, to slide out of the seat, to close the door. He walks up the steps and keeps his head forward. Just remember, he thinks, as he crosses inside; you only have to die once.   or,   Some Guy™ decides he’ll break the whole world just so two idiot spies can be gay.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Now, Miss Glinda.” Madame Morrible shoves the book back on the shelf. “Which side of this war will you be on? Mine? Or the dead’s?” Elphie’s. Glinda swallows. “Yours.” “Good.” Madame Morrible steps aside. “You may return to your dorm.” Glinda starts towards the door, then stops. “What if I run?” “You won’t.” Madame Morrible’s eyes glint in the glow of the green sky. “After all… you’re on our side. Aren’t you?”   or,   the aftermath of regretful separations.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

In the cab, Sherlock shoves himself up against the window, as far from John as possible. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I broke my vow. I didn’t keep her safe.” John watches the signs pass by, catching stray words. His hands are twisted together in his lap. “She chose you over her own life,” he says. “It’s a sacrifice I am more than capable of understanding.”   or,   In the aftermath of Mary’s almost-death, the boys get their shit together.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Brian isn’t exactly one for blind faith, but when Dom Toretto opens the car door at a hundred miles per hour and asks him to trust him, he thinks he might just become a believer.

“Are you fucking moron, Dom?” Brian shouts, grabbing his arm. “No, you cannot do that—”

“Give me some credit,” Dom says, with that slow smile of his like syrup dripping down pancakes. “I’ll come home to you.”

Then he wrenches his arm, and Brian’s left holding empty air.

or,

Love’s a bitch.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Xavier drowns himself at the end of spring, on a Wednesday, in the lake behind Ajax’s house. He ducks his head under the water and holds it there, because it’s four in the morning and nobody else is awake, because he has bruises dotting his ribcage in the shape of his father’s hands, because he couldn’t paint a gun that would fire. Xavier dies still staring at the pink sky of a rising sun, and he smiles. Then he sees Wednesday Addams and stops.   or,   Xavier dies, and the world shakes apart and starts over.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“I dream about you,” Harry says. “And Mommy, and Daddy. There are other people too. I always wake up sad.” He pulls his hand back. “It’s okay though. You’re here now.” Severus thinks, very suddenly and very terribly, that he will have to call the ex-almost-love-of-his-life.   or,   Six years after the end of the world, Severus puts his family back together.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Nicola Coughlan as Lily Evans. 💜💜💜

that's it you're welcome have a nice day

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“There’s a lady in the parlor, my lord,” Olly says, his hands wringing rather than folded behind his back. “It looks—She came here alone, on horseback. She won’t speak, except in apologies. I think—I think she may belong to Lady Eloise.” Benedict wants to argue that particular point, then finds it’s Penelope Featherington in the parlor and decides perhaps Olly was right on the nose. “I’m terribly sorry to come so late,” she says, her voice clogged with tears, “but I’m afraid I have nowhere else to go.”   or,   Penelope Featherington moves into Aubrey Hall, and life unravels like a ball of yarn in a cat’s hands.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Finnick forgets his Games almost as soon as they’re won, in a haze of morphling and sleep. He’s barely awake for the first few weeks after the crowning ceremony, wasting away in his new bed in Victor’s Village, where he’s neighbors with monsters and victims alike. His mother is so proud, and Finnick doesn’t understand why, though he remembers he used to, before he’d ever stepped foot in the arena.

One day there’s a package on the doorstep. Finnick’s mother brings it to his bed, where he unwraps three loaves of half-burnt bread, stale and cold from the days-long journey in the mail. There’s a note tucked in between two of them, written in chicken scratch that Finnick can barely read: I’m sorry this happened to you. I hope you’re okay.

or,

Finnick falls in love with the boy with the bread, and the story goes very differently.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Warlock turns fifteen at 12:07 a.m. and immediately begins to have terrible dreams.

He always wakes up at the same moment—when whoever he’s not looks up to see a winged mug on a desk. Then, the roaring, keening, whimpering, or any other such noise suddenly ceases entirely to make way for brutal, crushing silence.

Tonight, the hands touch the cup. Terror crawls up Warlock’s spine, splitting his lips with a bloodied plea—

“Mum.”

Then he crashes through a glass coffee table.

or,

Warlock Dowling finds his way back home.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Bumbercatch walks into the locker room the first day after Ted leaves and immediately notices three things. One, Richard has three hickeys on his neck. Two, Jamie’s hair hasn’t been washed. Three, Trent is nowhere to be found.   or,   Gentlemen, believing in rom-communism is all about believing that everything's gonna work out in the end. Now these next few months might be tricky, but that's just 'cause we're going through our dark forest. Fairy tales do not start, nor do they end in the dark forest. That son of a gun always shows up smack-dab in the middle of a story. But it will all work out. Now, it may not work out how you think it will or how you hope it does, but believe me, it will all work out. Exactly as it's supposed to. Our job is to have zero expectations and just let go. — Ted Lasso   or,   a family breaks apart, then comes back together.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Miles does not remember this, but his mother tells him that when he was younger, he used to watch The Little Mermaid on repeat. He knew all the songs by heart and he would mumble-sing them to himself all the time, even when he was supposed to be quiet, like at his grandfather’s funeral. When his fifth Halloween came around, he wanted to dress as Ariel, and though his father had warned him against it, Miles had thrown a fit until he was dressed up in green and purple sequins, and his father had carted him around the neighborhood in a red wagon that they don’t have anymore. Miles does not remember this, but when Hobie laughs at the picture, his heart aches.

or,

Miles Morales learns how to love and be loved.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

you say the whole world’s ending (honey, it already did)

by angelica_barnes

Aidan wakes up and his wings are gone. He reaches for his horns, but they’re gone too, bloody stumps left in their place. Touching them sends pain shooting through his head and he screams, but no sound comes out. He reaches for his mouth to pry it open, but there’s an oxygen mask over it. He pulls it down, gasping for breath, and blinks in the blinding light. Then, she appears above him and smothers him with a pillow. Aidan’s eyes snap open and he immediately buries himself under the bed.   or,   Aidan runs away from something he can’t remember.   or,   “I care not for his sanity. I care for his happiness. I care for his soul. Let him be mad if mad is what he needs.” — Queen Charlotte