Things on tumblr that need to stop:
  • Callout culture and mob mentality
  • The idea that everything is activism; it isn’t
  • Acting as though it’s the responsibility of other people to create a perfect online environment for you; it’s your own responsibility, nobody else’s
  • Normalizing the filter bubble
  • Romanticizing and trivializing mental illness 
  • Anti-shipping movements 
  • Acting as though being a minor/ trauma survivor/ someone with a mental illness is an excuse for being a shitty person 
  • The idea that taking interest in something in fiction means you support it/ condone it in reality
  • Shaming people for their coping strategies
  • Warping the meaning of words such as pedophilia for your own agenda
  • The idea that tumblr is only for minors
  • Trivializing racism/ homophobia/ transphobia in regards to things like shipping
  • The idea that exploring dark/ bad/ ‘problematic’ themes in fictional environments is automatically a bad thing
  • The idea that fans have some kind of unspoken right in regards to what happens in canon; you don’t
  • General entitlement
  • Suicide baiting
  • American ethnocentrism
  • The idea that interpretation = fact
  • The idea that fanon and canon always have to be connected
  • ‘Fandom moms’
  • The idea that if someone used to support something bad, they should always be judged by that and don’t have the ability to change and educate themselves 
…I can always go off the beam into hallucinations, or lie aching and depressed for months. Maybe it’s just my nature, but one seems to see-saw from a sort of rosy blandness to a blank, bare cracking feeling.
—  Robert Lowell, from a letter to Elizabeth Bishop c. August 1952, featured in Words in Air: The Complete Correspondence Between Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell,

Yesterday I graduated from college and it still has not set in completely. During college I struggled a lot of my mental illness and I don’t totally believe I was able to graduate. I have dealt with my anxiety and depression for years and while I still struggle with the symptoms on a daily basis I still did it. This is obviously just my experience but I wanted to tell everyone that you can do it. It does not even have to be school/job related. Just keep working on it and working on yourself. As stupid as it may sound when people say “just keep trying!!!!” It is true. 

I got to graduate Cum Laude with a double major and I will continue my education in law school next semester. I think about all the times I felt like giving up and all the times I thought I was finished and failed for good and in a way thinking of these moments makes me feel stronger. Never would I have guessed that I could even make it this far. 

I guess my bottom line is this. Know you are not alone, know that you are loved no matter what you think, know that it is ok to struggle and to struggle a lot, know that life is hard but that you are more than enough, know that you and your mental health come first, and finally, know that although it may be difficult you can do it. 


Whitewashing is not okay.
There are so many tutorials here on Tumblr for helping with drawing darker skin. If you look at the actor, who has dark skin, and make their skin so light that they aren’t recognizable, you need to change something.

Romanticizing a mental illness is not okay.
If someone had a mental illness that caused them lain when they were alive, that caused them to be “crazy” (for lack of a better word), you can not make an ‘AU’ where that person is a 'p*ycho murderer’. Just because someone suffers from psychosis does NOT make them a murderer.

Being transphobic and homophobic is, guess what? NOT OKAY.
There is nothing wrong with hetero ships. But, if you take a ship with two members of the same sex and make it to where one is female and one is male (without including other identities), you need to change something.

This specific person needs to give a proper apology.

Also, their followers say that people that are shedding light onto this person’s wrongdoings are being hateful (while simultaneously sending hate to the people trying to point out wrong behavior). I will say it here: I do NOT hate AB. I personally love their art and their style. However, this behavior and the AU needed to be called out.

TL;DR: Don’t be a piece of shit.

One last thing: Thank you to @johnlaurensprotectionsquad @lauwurens @exadorlion and @ everyone else who I cannot think of rn for bringing this up!!! This has bothered me for so long. I’m glad someone stood up and pointed it out.

Nothing I can say will really do to tell you everything that happened, or why. I was completely out of my head—strange physical sensations—I was a prophet and everything was a symbol; then: shouting, singing, tearing things up. Then: depression (extreme) aching, self-enclosed, fearful of everyone and everything anyone could do, feeling I was nothing and could do nothing. I want you to know—I’m sorry. Sorry because of all my ill, inconsistent, selfish and so on actions toward you…I try to accept myself and hold on to the joyful.
—  Robert Lowell, from a letter to Gertrude Buckman c. August 1950
Psychologist Pixi Is Back With Some MV Explanation

Ok I’m gonna make a post explaining mental illness in b.a.p’s mv bc I think lots of y'all are missing that all of that was mental illness (schi//////zophrenia, anx/////iety/dep//////ression w suicide ideation, body dysm/////orphic disorder, sub//////stance use disorder, and ano////rexia) I’m sorry about the slashes, if just rather not have this post in tags where people are seeking out help and recovery as it’s off topic

Sch////izophrenia: the guys seeming oblivious to the world around him, conducting even though there was no band? That’s what this disorder looks like frequently in severe cases. He’s caught up in hallu////cinations that keep him from reality. Everyone keeps mentioning him as murder and in that I think they’re missing a lot of the point. While more mentally ill people are more likely to suffer from violent crimes than to commit them, it still stands that violent crime by mentally ill people exists. (I’ll admit I’m a little bit iffy about this part of the mv bc of fear of violent crime being part of the stigma of mental illness, especially ps////ychotic illnesses, but I think bap addressed it in an appropriate way bc it wasn’t the point they were trying to make) the point they were making with this man and the bodies around him so a long standing legal debate, can we really hold this man accountable when he’s not aware of his actions? He keeps conducting, not knowing what he’s done. A lot of you are actually playing into this, reacting the way people normally would: you only notice the bodies, not the unaware man. He makes you uncomfortable because he is strange and different. But is he really at fault when he doesn’t know? That’s what bap is trying to say.

An/////xiety and de/////pression w suicide ideation: y'all have generally figured out the man in the bathroom, but in general that’s what he represents. He’s someone at the end of their line, frustrated, hopeless, and stressed. I feel like we’re used to seeing this disorder portrayed, so most people understood, so I’ll leave it there. Feel free to message me if you need further explanation.

Body dys//////morphic disorder: people keep labeling the girl looking in the mirror as just “insecurities” and i just want to clarify that it’s further than that. This is a woman doing anything she can to convince herself that she looks alright (which she does) but her appearance is never right to her. Likely what she’s seeing in the mirror is different from what we’re seeing, which is why she smashes it. She doesn’t want to see her reflection when it’s something so terrible to her. Baps making a good point here, bc we typically look down on people who hate the way they look and call them shallow and vain for obsessing over their looks, while bap is pointing out how much they really are hurting

Su/////bstance use disorder: the girl in the hall, holding her head, taking pills, is a clear representation of this disorder. We find her first in the withdrawal state, trying to resist what she’s addicted too, but she gives in despite the negative side effects (i.e. vomiting). I really like the way they approached this, because a lot of media dehumanizes and demonizes people with this disorder, but bap did the opposite, reminding their audience that these people are human, are suffering, and are mentally ill

Ano////rexia: I think people generally understand the girl in the kitchen, but here’s a little clarification. She’s cutting the food smaller because it’s a common rhetoric that if you eat smaller bite you’ll eat less. Even the one sliver of carrot feels like too much for her tho, bc like a lot of people with this disorder, it’s like she’s become afraid of food. She thinks eating anything is disgusting and will increase her weight, that’s why she’s hallucinating worms in the food. It’s a metaphor for how she views food. I really appreciate the way they approached this, instead of just putting a sad skinny girl in front of a mirror and maybe having her faint. Showing the really an//////xiety and ps//////ychosis of this disorder instead of standard, not really effective portrayals

Finally, emotion revolution is a summit held by mental health professionals every couple of years, focusing on creating a conversation about mental illness and lowering stigma

All of this to say, B.A.P - Wake Me Up is entirely and wholly about mental illness. It’s a music video that displays mental illnesses accurately while addressing the stigma surrounding them. It focuses on humanizing something we’ve demonized, and on showing mental illness not only in its reality, but without looking down on the people that have it. I really want people to understand this, because their message was really important


                                                         the devil’s in my head
                                                            stirring up a mess
                                             taking advantage of my unsteadiness
                                                         my readiness for death
                                                         the vans are pulling up
                                                            fuck, if I know why
                                                     i’m hearing cuckcoo clocks
                                                     i’m seeing angels in the sky
                                                       the war is almost started
                                                         the cavalry’s on time
                                                   fight amongst the foot soldiers
                                                      but the war is in my mind

I’ve seen it asked before why Josh would make Chris and Sam, his two ‘best friends’ (and Ashley) go through the worst of the pranks.  I personally thought it was obvious but I’ll just put my 2 cents in anyway:

They were suppose to be the heroes.

Josh had planned to put it up on the internet, let it go viral.  A video of his best friend, saving and getting the girl who he’s saved multiple times that night.  A video of Sam being a badass heroine.

The others?  Forced to stumble around in the dark woods, meeting jumpscare after jumpscare (The mask in the truck, the scarecrow that pops up, the painted words in the cable car station) that he had set up.  They were just the losers you laugh at and forget.

According to his delusions, Josh was rewarding Chris and Sam by making them the stars of the video.  THEY would be the most famous out of them all!  Everyone got punished by being forced to feel the same thing the Twins felt but only Chris, Sam, (and by association, Ashley)’s suffering would have any meaning, have anything come from it.

Irrational thinking is a symptom of his illness/being off his meds.  Josh had convinced himself that his friends would forgive him and do it easily at that.  When they didn’t, that’s when he started losing his grip on reality even further.

Everyone is a moon

Summary: Betty baits Jughead into going full dark, no stars. Real dark. Real kinky. Real consensual. You’ve been warned. (Part 3 of The Beast Within)

A/N: As with all the fics in this series, Jughead is v. dark and creepy. Only here, Betty’s the one to draw it out of him. I want to put a warning label as long as my arm on this thing, but I trust you all to know that this is fiction and not to judge me. Don’t read if you’re at all squicked out by violent sex or BDSM.

Y’all I edited this on the plane yesterday and my heart was pounding so hard the whole time, afraid someone could read my computer screen.

And most importantly, happiest of birthdays @jandjsalmon. I would not be here, and this dark Juggie would not exist, if not for you. Hopefully this fic doesn’t go too far.


kinky smut below the jump

“Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.”—Mark Twain

Betty leans over the pool table, scissoring her legs to give her the leverage to hit the ball on the far side. It doesn’t help that she’s got a leather skirt the size of a band aid covering her ass. She scratches.

The large tattooed man she’s playing with — Gator — gives her a condescending smile before smoothly sinking his last ball. She hasn’t seen him before tonight. Probably a trucker passing through. They come in sometimes. But a Serpent wouldn’t do for her plan to work.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. Why won’t you take this twenty and go get us another round of drinks while I re-rack.” He holds the folded bill between his index and middle fingers, making her come up close to him to reach it. His eyes slide down to her cleavage, on full display in the sleeveless blue button-up she’s tied just above her belly button.

“My pleasure.” She smirks at him, pressing her shoulders back as she turns.

As she crosses the room to the bar, she feels the eyes of the Serpents on her. Not the way they usually are, quick glances that bounce off of her like snowflakes, as if they’re afraid Jughead will catch them looking. He’d lost control once and now the guys give him a wide berth. The Serpent Prince had earned his name.

But Jughead’s not here now. Some use it as an excuse to drink her in, staring until she has to steel herself not to flinch under their eyes. Others look concerned, worried for the peppy blonde girl, so clearly out of her depth in a biker bar. Still others’ stares are hard and accusatory. Reminding her that they’ve never trusted her, daring her to get herself into trouble without Jughead here to bail her out.

That’s what she’s waiting for. For Jughead to catch her. He should have been here half an hour ago.

After the Chuck incident, she tried to put a lid on Dark Betty. But the more she tried to confine her, the better she got at escaping.

That is, until one day she found Jughead’s journals. With FP still in jail awaiting trial, the trailer became their safe space, their sanctuary. Every afternoon she could get away, every weekend day her mother would spare, Betty would rush to the trailer, and Jughead would be there waiting. Sometimes they just did homework, or watched TV, or talked. Passing their burdens back and forth. Often she would cook for him, and they would pretend they were somewhere far away, spinning castles in the air, dreaming of a new life. But they were still teenagers, hormones and all. In that trailer, Betty learned how to please him. And she learned how she liked to be touched.

On a cold afternoon in early November, Betty laid on Jughead’s childhood bed, watching his hands run all over her, watching him memorize her body.

Watching him shoot nervous glances toward the bookshelf beside his bed. She craned her neck to see what he was looking at.

It was a little dark blue journal, much like her own pink one, with the corner of a photo peaking out between its pages. She leaned up and grabbed it before he could stop her.

The photo was of her. Of her sleeping. And it had been taken by someone inside her bedroom. She lay splayed on her stomach, the blankets pulled down to her calves. Betty could see the curve of one of her ass cheeks peaking out of the cheer shorts she slept in. She normally put her hair in a messy bun before bed, but in the photo someone had pulled it down and fanned it across her pillow.

She remembered that night, a few weeks prior—she tried not to sleep in her cheer shorts, always wanted to wash off the sweat from practice before bed. But that night Cheryl had kept them late and she was so tired by the time she got home, ate dinner, finished her homework, that she’d crashed. And then she’d been so confused when she woke in the morning and her hair tie was on the nightstand beside her.

She should have felt repulsed. She should have felt scared. Her sweet, gentle, caring boyfriend was sneaking into her bedroom at night to manipulate her body like a doll and take her picture.

Instead, she felt excited. She glanced up at Jughead. He looked trapped, like she’d backed him into a corner. His eyes kept flicking from her face to the door.

“Turnabout’s fair play, right? I mean, you read mine.” He swallowed and nodded. She reached out to grab his hand with one of her own and eagerly turned the pages. Eventually, she got so absorbed, she drew her hand back so she could flip through his entries more quickly.

This journal was relatively new—the first entry dated from July. He talked of his lonely summer without her, and without Archie. Of going days only talking to Pop and to himself in his writing. He wrote of his anger, of something within his chest he struggled to control. He wrote of stalking her. Of breaking into her room when she was there and when she wasn’t. Of the things he secretly longed to do to her.

As she read, Betty felt a weight lifting off of her. Jughead knew some of her darkness. She thought she knew all of his. She was wrong.

He had curled in on himself while she scanned the pages, his elbows resting on his thighs. He chewed on the corner of his thumbnail and avoided all her attempts to catch his eyes.

So she placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back until she could swing a leg on either side of his hips. She kissed him with a hunger she hadn’t realized she’d been repressing.

That was the day she discovered how to control Dark Betty. Or, rather, that Jughead could control Dark Betty. A regular diet of Jughead’s obsession and his depredation and the fugue states stopped. Her anger stayed in its box and her nails stayed out of her palms.

But Dark Betty escaped today. Betty remembers why she’s here, remembers the process of getting ready and driving here, the steps she laid out ahead of time. She just doesn’t remember making the decision to come. Or the decision to delete the draft of Jughead’s novel off his laptop.

They work because their darkness balances. Like the controlled release of a bomb. But Jughead has been slacking on his responsibilities. Apparently, Dark Betty had decided to remind him. They’d both been so busy lately, Jughead hadn’t had time for anything more than a quick fuck late at night before they both fell into bed, exhausted. And she needed him. She couldn’t control the darkness inside herself without him. She thought they had that in common, that they were equals in that way.

She’s worried that maybe now he wants them to be normal. Well, she was trying to be normal for him. Dark Betty wouldn’t let her.

When she returns with the beers, she watches him take a long pull out of his as she places hers on the windowsill behind her.

“So what brings you to Riverdale,” she swallows, “Gator?”

“Doin’ a long haul job, Orlando to Montreal. Gotta get them oranges up to the Canucks.” He smiles, and she can see a silver cap on one of his molars.

They play another game, during which he grows increasingly bold. He offers to help her correct her stance, the way she holds her stick, and when he passes behind her, his hand grazes her ass. He smells like stale beer and unshowered male. Both odors, she surmises, are accurate.

“What do you say we take a break? Maybe grab a drink and get to know each other a little better?”

Betty’s heart sinks into her stomach. The clock’s run out and Jughead didn’t show. But she tries to smile, tries to seem like nothing’s wrong. “Sure. Why don’t you find a table while I run to the ladies’ room?”

She grabs her purse and makes a beeline for the dark hallway behind the bar. She swallows the tears that threaten and gets ready to call Jughead and tell him what she did.

As she passes a doorway, someone grabs her wrist and yanks her inside. Whoever it is presses her face against the door and twists her arm up behind her back until she winces. A blanket of fear alights on her stomach. Maybe she went too far. Maybe one of the Serpents…

When he speaks, every bone inside her melts. “Sometimes I think you have a death wish.”


His voice is rough in her ear and it send shivers down her spine. “I’ve been watching you. You were so distracted by your new boy toy, you didn’t even notice me across the bar when you got that drink. Tut tut.” He lets go of her and she turns around.

“You’ve been here that long? And you waited?” Before she knows what she’s doing, she slaps him. “You sick fuck.”

He smiles but it’s foreign on his face. Not the way he usually looks at her. Lethal. “That was a mistake, little girl.”

Keep reading

One of Those Days

Kent knew what kind of day it was going to be as soon as he opened his eyes. The alarm clock next to Alexei’s bed read 11:37 am and he felt that oh-too-familiar swooping sensation in his gut, like vertigo or a split second blackout. Or both.

Keep reading

Bucky Barnes Helping with Mental Illness Would Include ...

Original Ask: Hey there. Can I request a HC of how Bucky would deal with the reader having a panic attack? (He learns that the reader has to deal with their mental illness alone because their family doesn’t take it seriously…?) Or something along those lines. I leave it up to you. Thank you very much :)

A/N: Ok so I don’t generally do these types of asks and I won’t be taking any requests for them anymore (I’m sure i mentioned this in my FAQ but i’ll check) Please don’t read if you’re easily triggered by mentions of anxiety attacks etc (essentially anything described in the ask) also everyones different in how they want poeple to act around them when they have a panic attack, I based these heacannons on my own experiences and how I respond best to people during an attack. Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything Bucky in the future x

Originally posted by buckingoffthebed

  • Bucky finding you in the lounge after everyone gone to bed, just staring at the floor
  • Bucky seeing the signs in your heavy breathing and gentle rocking 
  • Gently placing a blanket over your shoulders and settling down beside you
  • Keeping his distance at first as he doesn’t want to crowd you or overwhelm you
  • Bucky slowly talking to you in his deep smooth voice
  • The closeness of him and the depth of his voice getting you to slowly level your breathing
  • Eventually you calm down enough that Bucky’s stroking the back of your hands and getting you to talk about what was bothering you
  • You start to break down again as you speak
  • Only for Bucky to quickly put his arms around you and pull you to his chest
  • The warmth of his body heat serves to calm you a little more
  • Bucky talking you down, shushing you lightly and telling you that it will be ok and you’ll get through it together 
  • “Shh, its ok sweetpea, everything’s going to be ok” 
  • Closing your eyes and listening to the sound of his voice
  • His heartbeat thumping through his chest grounding you
  • Stroking up and down your arm and your back to get you to breath evenly
  • Once you calm down your eyes start to get heavy
  • Bucky’s still holding you when he feels your muscles relax
  • Bucky wraps you in the blanket he draped around you and picks you up to take you to your room
  • Clinging to Bucky when he lays you down on your bed
  • Burying yourself in Bucky’s chest when he lays on the bed beside you and curls himself around you.