#long textpost

You know those posts where people accidentally stumble upon fronts for money laundering operations? And how the people just roll with it and go “fuck yeah this is a pizza store, what can we get you?” and then proceed to deliver the best pizza you’ve ever had?

That, but with the batcave. Logically, it’s impossible to get near it. There’s no way anyone strategic or analytic can trace back the batfam to find an entrance to it. But somehow this group of college kids stumble upon it on accident after getting horribly lost on their way for a 3 am snack run. They’re all sleep-deprived and so used to Gotham’s eccentricities that they honestly don’t even get alarmed when Google maps tells them to drive through a wall, even less so when it fucking WORKS.

The butler had been bored for the last couple of days, and since everyone was off on missions, the silence was adding to Alfred’s anxiety about his children. So when he sees these group of confused kids yelling into the darkness if this was bar, he says “screw it”. In the blink of an eye, there’s a decoy close to but not quite near the batcave, where Alfred turns the room into a cosy little hangout spot.

It becomes a phenomenon only for the true Gotham locals. And Gotham is protective of its own. Alfred doesn’t have to worry about telling anyone to keep it a secret, it’s now become a sort of initiation/tradition for new Gothamites when the locals think they’ve earned it. Some days Alfred keeps it well hidden when he doesn’t want to entertain, others he allows it to be found, fills up his bartending stall and waits for the chaos. People pour in, and it’s a nice cozy place just to be. Alfred’s a mean bartender, he whips up drinks like never before. Also gives advice like never before.

Some days it’s a bar, and you go there with your closest friends and as long as you clean up after yourselves and aren’t being disruptive, nobody cares. Others the menu includes tea, and it’s the time for bringing games to play with loved ones. Everyone is friendly and plays nice, because Alfred will not hesitate to pull out a shotgun for anyone who things otherwise.

People sometimes spot the bats or the justice league hovering around the location and figure it’s an exclusive occasion, and honestly a billionaire having a private bar for superheroes is not that weird at all so people roll with it.

Alfred exchanges information with others, builds his channel of gossip. He hears about the newer, local threats that emerge. The political and economic issues grieving Gotham’s citizens, and makes a mental note to tell the others. He hears Tim and Stephanie were munching on burgers last night, he guesses all their praise about his waffles were merely lies. But he also knows how Cheryl from the retirement home plays a mean BINGO, and can’t lose even if she tried. Speaking of which, he needs to hold another tournament soon not because Alfred was petty or competitive.. he was merely.. competent.

Nobody from the batfam knows about this. It’s Alfred’s favorite past time, and no one from the batfam is allowed within TWENTY feet of it.

i was happy with my body. i enjoyed wearing outfits that emphasised my chest and waist, i thought i looked hot as and i was comfortable with that. at the same time, i kept being misgendered. strangers would refer to me as “lady” taking one look at me, even people i had introduced myself as using they/he would use she pronouns for me. it was never anyone’s first guess that i might not be a girl.

i was asking why? i do my masculine makeup everyday, i wear my pronoun pins, i know they’ll asssume i’m a girl from my chest but why is there never a split second of hesitation? even from the people i’ve told?

whenever i asked this question i was told multiple times over. no one would see me as nonbinary if i still looked like a girl. no one would view me as who i am unless i conformed to what they expected me to be. and that was when i started hating my body. buying binders and wearing them for 10+ hours because i couldn’t go to university without it. wearing clothes purely from the male section so i could maybe hide my curves. cutting my hair down to a masculine style instead of the shoulder length one i loved to play with and style. i haven’t put makeup on in months, when taking that time to do some eyeliner, or draw some stars next to my eyes, was what gave me the confidence to leave the house.

the outfits that i used to love wearing, that brought me joy and confidence, sit in my cupboard gathering dust. i keep them, hoping one day i can wear them again, but can’t help but reach for the same “masculine” fits every time i need.

it wasn’t that i wanted to change every part of my body. i was learning to love who i was. i was using my confidence in my gender identity to build a confidence in my appearance i never had when i was using she/her. but when everyone is telling you the only way to be seen as the person you are, the person you love, you have to change lego you are” to fit with who they think you should be.

(and yes, this is absolutely about what happened to kit connor.)

Many of my creative friends are doing NaNoWriMo, or some version of it, and writing a lot.

Two years ago I made lofty promises to myself: I would finish my novel's first draft by the end of the year. I'd written snippets since like 2014, but Now It Was Serious.

It did not happen. I did not finish the story, but I did make significat progress. So I renewed the promise last November.

I have toiled at my current novel (and a side project when I get too bored of the same old) non-stop ever since, only having a couple of breaks for a few days when I was absolutely burnt out.

No, I have not finished it. Not even close. I estimate I am about halfway there. This story is a much bigger beast than I anticipated. Or, I find myself writing it deeper than I started out. But I enjoy it.

It has both comforted and frustrated me immensely. Some days it has been the only reason to get out of bed, if only to get my laptop and tuck myself back in with it. I have put in full working days and then some. Some days I have written 4000 words, but more often I have written a 100. Some days I have just sat and stared at it hollowly and ranted to people on Discord.

But it's all part of the process. I have made so much progress. I have learned so much about the craft. I have heard so much advice, from better and more experienced writers, on how it should be done. So many people who have told me not to edit mid-draft. I do that all the time, to catch any inconsistencies early, and also to keep myself familiar with what has already happened.

So many lectures about the importance of having your plot figured out before you start. I never do. It all unfolds as I write, and any other way would bore me out of my mind. If I already know how the story goes, why even bother writing it? My mind just cannot grasp it.

And so on. So many tips that, when I try them out, make me both bored out of my mind and not productive at all.

But also good ones. Like to stand up once in a while. Take a short walk. Go ahead and send that short story to the contest. Talk about your story. And if you feel like vomiting when you sit down to write, get up and do anything else. Come back when you don't find it fucking disgusting. You don't have to be extatic over it, but just:

Don't abuse yourself.

So in that spirit: This November I will not force myself to write a single word.

 Hey, real talk here. I’m very memey, but I need to speak seriously for once. DON’T. DO.FRIEND.BREAKUPS.IN.A.BAD.WAY

It can hurt the other person a lot, even if it doesn’t hurt you.

If you wish to stop talking to somebody that has been your friend for a while, go up to them and say it to their face. Yes, they may be sadder than if you don’t at first, but in the long run it’s better.

If you calmly tell them you don’t wish to talk to them, they will eventually understand it. If you don’t, they may think it’s their fault, they may feel bad or guilty, they’ll feel worse for a longer time.

Until they reach out to another friend to feel better, or they learn they don’t need to feel bad and they DID nothing bad. OR UNTIL SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS

Not only speaking about suicide, I also include self-hate, low self esteem and others like depression. IN SHORT: YOU CAN SEVERLY HURT SOMEONE BY LEAVING THEM WITHOUT A WORD.

“/p>

I myself was victim of one of theese. I have mentioned it before, and I’m not scared to talk about it. I WILL NEVER BE ASHAMED of something that was not my fault. I had been friends with this group of friends for… 8 and a half years more or less.

I was the “leader of the group”. I helped them when they cried, stopped them from fighting with eatchother and such, gave them a hand with schoolwork…

A bit more than two years ago, my family moved. Not too far, a 15 minute car ride, easy right? THERE WAS EVEN A BUS AND A TRAIN that took from where they lived to where I lived. They almost cried when I told them I left the place where we took classes for another one where I now live. “we will visit you weekly” “we will call you” “Don’t leave please” they said. ALL LIES. I found myself in a rather bad social situation where I moved. I didn’t fit in with my new class. They acted almost opposite to me, we liked no things in common… They thought of me as “weird” in a bad, BAD way.

I, of course, was counting on the support of my friends to get through things.

But things went worse, a girl started stealing things of mine, drawings, and actual objects. She shitalked me behind my back, because I ACTUALLY INTIMIDATED HER IN PERSON. When she said something wrong about me or others, I’d look at her, and she’d do a fake apology and shut up. NOT BEHIND MY BACK, OF COURSE.

It was daily shittalk behind me. I felt horrible, and helpless. I needed my friends to support me. I’d message them to meet eatchother and their replies were always along the lines of “I’m busy” “I have something to do that day…” They never texted me first, they never checked on me even after I told them someone was shittalking me daily and I had like one only friend

BUt I’m certain they didn’t. They posted daily selfies with eatchother on instagram. They were hanging out with eatchother. I eventually clicked. I DIDN’T NEED THEM.

I was alredy talking with the girl who became my best friend today, who saw me “rebelling” against the shittalker and decided to do so as well.

I dropped my old friends and started to see my current one more often.

Then the old ones started calling me, missed calls, messages. But I decided that I had enough. They stopped talking to me when I needed them most and I had always been there when THEY needed me.

They were out of my life from that point on and I haven’t seen theme since. And things only got better. My friend and I are way better now, we haven’t seen Shittalker in forever and we probably never do it again. I’m pretty happy with how things have ended up. But I went through so much because of a bad friendbreakup.

I only have two things left to say: -If you are going to not be friends anymore with someone do it right -If a friend has started to not say anything to you, is making you feel bad, and you have alredy tried to save your friendship with no result. I consider them a toxic person. PLEASE DO CUT TOXIC PEOPLE OUT OF YOUR LIFE. It hurts but it gets better, I’ve been there.

Much love and thanks for reading till the end

I’ve written this hugeass textpost because X has reminded me of how I felt back then, and I don’t want anyone else to feel like that.