Iām sometimes on and mostly off here these days for personal/mental health reasons butā¦ it looks like Tumblr is singing their swan song? š¤
Anyway, Iāve screenshot the posts that came up in my feed of the ones of you that have set up new accounts in other platforms. That to be sure to hopefully not loose any of you, because it would make me extremely sad.
Message me / comment on this post with your new accountā¦ Iāll gladly follow you wherever you goā¦ š¬ (ok thatās kinda stalkery, but you know what I mean.. š)
And if anyone care / is interested, my Discord account is msjarvis84
Come say hi if you wantā¦ THAT would make me really happyā¦ š
I just wanted to let the 5 of you who might care, that I've decided to go on hiatus.
I'm not in a very clear state of mind, Iām easily triggered and unfortunately this place lately is not giving me the reprieve and relief that it usually did.
I will be probably lurking in the shadows mostly on AO3, because the Gods know my tbr list is infinite and maybe this will be the time I would able to catch up on it. And, if you want to say hi, Iāll be also lurking on Discord.
Thinking back about it, the last gif was most probably the moment when MeBrainā¢ļø decided āYep. šāāļø We gonna suspend all rational function and obsess over him šāāļøā
(all while @encasedinobsidian was cackling in the background..ā¤ļø)
If youāre reading this, youāre probably a pervert.
Yeah. You read that right. Youāre a sad, lonely little pervert, and weāre all talking about you.
Really, we are. You keep us up at night. All you do is stare at your screen, scrolling and typing and clicking and posting. Youāve probably got a whole queue of posts dedicated to this shit, right? Weirdo. Whatās wrong with you? Donāt you have any friends?
Of course you donāt. Youāre here! And if youāre reading this, itās probably because you went looking for it.
Thatās where our problem begins.
Joel clicks his fingers in front of your face. āHey. Are you even listening to me?ā
āWhat?ā you ask, looking up from your phone. Youāve been talking to your only friend again; a gray floating head with shades on. Youāre not sure what it is about them, this faceless figure: they just get you.
āUnbelievable,ā Joel says. He shakes his head and struts off.
āI was listening,ā you call, chasing after him. āI heard you.ā
āWhatād I say?ā
āYou said something about immorality. And therapy. About me needing therapy. Right?ā
His jaw clenches, releasing some sort of disapproving grunt. He gauges the distance between you, making sure itās a respectable, appropriate five feet before he responds. āThatās about it, yeah.ā
āYeahā¦ā You scratch your head. āAnd what do I need therapy for again?ā
Well, that sets him off.
His eyes widen in shock. He gestures between your body and his, gaping. āHow about you trying to dream up some world where you and I are in a sexual relationship? I mean, my God, Fellow Legal Adult, itās like youāre attracted to me or something.ā
Fellow Legal Adult. This is his new thing, the nickname heās been using since baby girl is too inappropriate in todayās climate. He calls his fictional daughters baby girl, and youāre wrong and sick and twisted for enjoying the sound of it in his waxy Texan accent.
āI just thought it might be some fun to imagine it,ā you admit. āI donāt actually want to do it, I just want to play pretend and maybe write a story about doing it.ā
āNo,ā Joel says. āWriting a story about something is the exact same as doing it. Every work of fiction ever is actually the writerās endorsement of that thing. Shakespeare has been cancelled for years over Macbeth, or did you miss that Twitter thread?ā
You pull at the skirt of your sundress. Shit ā my bad, youāre not wearing a sundress. Thatās overdone. Also kinda slutty. Youāre only wearing it for easy access, right? Come on, now. This isnāt one of those fics from 2023, with zero plot and just sex. Weāre better than that. Weāre literates.
Thatās why weāre on Tumblr.
You pull at the skirt of your frock. Itās now ankle-length and much more self-respecting. āIām confused,ā you reply. āSo youāre saying no?ā
āYes.ā
āYouāre saying yes?ā
Joel sighs, taking another conservative step back. āNo. We canāt. This would be wrong.ā
āWhatās so wrong with it?ā you ask, impatient now. Youāve met all the required terms and conditions of pursuing a romantic relationship with a man who does not, never has, and never will exist outside of the confines of your imagination.
Youāre not his best friendās daughter, because ā ew, right? Who the fuck wants to fantasize about a clandestine summer fling with a mature, intelligent man who only has eyes for you, against all odds and rules of society; a man who would put his closest friendship on the line because you are just that insatiable to him; a man who treats you with the respect, trust, and ā my God, Iām about to say it ā the love that no other boy ever has or ever could?
Itās not like youāre calling him daddy, either. What fucking twisted piece of shit would do that? Doesnāt Joel know about the decades of usage of that term, the sheer number of people who buy into such whimsy, the little fantasy one might like to indulge in while existing on this hellish lump of rock and partake in sex so immoral, so filthy, so ā incestuous? And here you are, promising to refrain from such practice. Protecting him and yourself from the dreaded patriarchy, which solely oppresses fictional characters, as everybody knows.
Really, he should be grateful.
Jesus, what else? You dress in a frock and petticoat; your ankles are never on display. You donāt allow yourself the fun of pretty, girlish clothes which feed the patriarchy and may lure the untrained eye into thinking you are ā oh, Christ, a child! In actual fact, youāre fifty-two ā supremely middle-aged ā just like Joel. Actually, you never were a teenager, nor a twenty-year-old, not a dreaded, unsightly, geriatric thirty-year-old at all. And if you ever were, you sure as shit wouldnāt write fiction about it, because it is uncouth, tasteless, and downright predatory to imagine yourself a day younger than you currently are.
No. You marched straight from your poor motherās body, armed with a smartphone in one hand, X-formerly-Twitter pre-downloaded, with some hefty conservative views to punch into it as soon as you learned how to spell the four most important words: romanticize, fetishize, sexualize and normalize. Youāve spent your entire life hunched over the thing, foaming at the mouth and wiping thick globs of saliva with the back of your hand; screaming at people you donāt know, will never know, and reminding them what ugly, loathsome, untalented, worthless people they are.
What the fuck isnāt there to like about you?
Joel sighs. He shakes his head, then reaches around to his back pocket for his phone.
āI have to check what the people online would say about this,ā he says. āYou know, the ones with blogs dedicated to policing this kind of thing. They give their summers up for this, Fellow Legal Adult, theyāre really brave and inspiring and I owe them a lot for keeping my reputation safe. With all the innocent survivors Iāve killed over the years ā not to mention the entire hospital I shot up to save one little girl ā I really donāt need a completely fictional relationship to turn me into some kind of bad guy.ā
āBut itās just fantasy,ā you say. āNone of it is real. Youāre not even real.ā
His jaw drops. āExcuse me?ā
You scrape together an explanation.
āI just meant: nothing we do actually means anything. Weāre just words on this personās screen. Look at them, reading about us right now. Weāre figments of their imagination! I wonder if I have brown or blue or green eyes; I wonder if you have a full beard or youāre the other guy with the curly hair. It wouldnāt matter either way, because neither of us exist! Right?ā
āNot the point.ā Joel shakes his head, logging in to his account. āIt romanticizes unhealthy sex practices.ā
āJoel,ā you whisper, with love and patience, holding his little brain like itās a smooth lump of damp clay. āWeāre not actually having sex. Same as you didnāt actually blitz a hospital. And anyway, if I consent and you consent, and nobody gets hurt, whatās unhealthy about sex?ā
āIt normalizes kink and taboo, thatās what.ā He nods, dignified, proud of the argument. It took him a whole hour to come up with. His brain grew one wrinkle in the process. For a little extra punch, he adds, āItās propaganda Iām not falling for.ā
āUsing normalize and taboo in the same sentence feels a little contradictory, Joel. Youāre starting to sound like one of those freaks with a stan account dedicated to Ellie or Tommy.ā
He rolls his eyes and shoves his phone back into his pocket. Theyāre debating the ethics of reblogging other writersā work right now, and he hasnāt the time to get into it. āYou wouldnāt understand,ā he grunts. āYouāre fetishizing me, youāre glorifying your own abuse and manipulation, and youāre forcing everybody else to be on board with it too. Itās disgusting, Fellow Legal Adult, Iām actually disgusted.ā
āNobody has to be on board with anything they donāt want to,ā you say. āThatās a pretty basic rule of thumb in anything, but especially sex. Are you sure youāve had enough sex to understand the basic concept of consent? Maybe if you spent less time yelling in your tags, someone might want toā¦ā
He laughs. āYouāre just a girl who doesnāt know the ideologies sheās playing into.ā
āWhich ideologies are those?ā
He hesitates. āPatriarchy,ā he spits out, the word wobbling across his tongue. It sounds like a big word and it victimizes women, so it must be right. It seemed to come up a lot when he asked ChatGPT for an argument which both liberates and subjugates women. He has no idea what it actually means or how it ties into this discussion.
āSo, let me get this straight. You think youāre punching a hole in the patriarchy by talking down to women and comparing them to real-life criminals, all for writing some stories on a fandom website?ā
He hesitates. Again. Heās not used to having human interaction without his keyboard to hide behind.
Also: he hesitates because heās not real. I canāt stress that enough. Iām making this dude do whatever the fuck I say. Look, now heās on a pogo stick. Heās bouncing all over the fucking joint. Joel would never pogo, I hear you say. Too bad! Now heās going no hands. Damn, this guyās good.
āWhy would women want to fantasize about some of the shit you write?ā Joel asks.
Fuck. Thatās a great question. I better make him put the pogo stick down.
āSexuality is a complicated thing,ā you reply. āIt always has been. Weāve never really understood human desire; thatās kind of why itās such a heavily-covered topic in media. Itās not supposed to be interpreted literally. The crazy thing is literature is full of metaphors and symbolism, but people only have a hard time understanding that shit when it comes to erotica.ā
He scoffs, twisting the pogo stick into the ground. āSo you want me to believe you donāt actually want to fuck the people youāre writing about?ā
You purse your lips. āI feel like it says more about your intelligence level that you canāt wrap your head around the concept of a metaphor, than it does mine. Maybe you wanna read more books and less anonymous messages?ā
āNo, thank you,ā he says, waving his hand. āI donāt like to be made to feel uncomfortable. By anything. Ever. I live in my bubble of legality and morality. Weāre all good people here. Thatās why we have an obligation to bully the living shit out of anyone we disagree with, and threaten their personal safety in the process.ā
āRight.ā You back up, dragging the heels of your sneakers ā sorry, your Victorian boots, no ankles. Suddenly, the thought of sleeping with someone so stupid and immature doesnāt feel as fun anymore.
āWhere are you going?ā he asks, pogoing after you. His voice shudders as the stick makes contact with the earth.
āI think Iām gonna close this doc,ā you mumble, gathering your frock as you jog. āIāll just open a new one and write a version of you whoās normal and doesnāt talk out of his ass as much.ā
āGood luck with that,ā he replies. āThatās totally out of character for me.ā
In one click, he pauses, glitches, pogo stick springing ā before he plummets into the recycle bin on your screen. The silence is bliss.
You look around the room. Outside, birds sing and cars soar by on the street. You remember that the real world exists; with real rules and real codes of conduct which help to protect real people. With real patriarchy: not fictional girls in sundresses who like summers of sex, but instead an insidious rot which runs so deep through society, it threatens to permeate the fantastical.
Here on your screen, a blank page and cursor blinking, just waiting for the stories and silliness you might spill into it ā none of that shit has to matter. You are safe within the realm of fiction to be whoever you like, do whatever you want. Even shit that makes other people uncomfortable. Think of it like an intellectual jungle gym for adults.
You can paint yourself brave, beautiful, funny, smart, sexy. You can chase your wildest dreams, accomplish the impossible, fraternize with your favorite characters and exist in faraway universes. You can be desired by everybody you ever wanted, or nobody at all. You can explore things that make you feel good, things that make you feel scared, and no harm can ever come from it.
Hell, you might even learn a thing or two about yourself in the process.
Thatās the fucking point of fantasy, you incel pieces of shit. Read a fucking book.
I really think Pedro Pascal could say specifically that he likes having sex with men and the str8s would still be like āhow dare you stereotype him like that. heās not g*y donāt be disgusting. my tarot cards told me he wants a wife so jot that downā
Iām sometimes on and mostly off here these days for personal/mental health reasons butā¦ it looks like Tumblr is singing their swan song? š¤
Anyway, Iāve screenshot the posts that came up in my feed of the ones of you that have set up new accounts in other platforms. That to be sure to hopefully not loose any of you, because it would make me extremely sad.
Message me / comment on this post with your new accountā¦ Iāll gladly follow you wherever you goā¦ š¬ (ok thatās kinda stalkery, but you know what I mean.. š)
And if anyone care / is interested, my Discord account is msjarvis84
Come say hi if you wantā¦ THAT would make me really happyā¦ š
I just wanted to let the 5 of you who might care, that I've decided to go on hiatus.
I'm not in a very clear state of mind, Iām easily triggered and unfortunately this place lately is not giving me the reprieve and relief that it usually did.
I will be probably lurking in the shadows mostly on AO3, because the Gods know my tbr list is infinite and maybe this will be the time I would able to catch up on it. And, if you want to say hi, Iāll be also lurking on Discord.
