The urge to put all my thoughts on Tumblr about my mental health heightens.

For the ship asks, how about 12 and 20??

From the Ship Asks!

12. Character that you can only imagine in one ship.

I think I'll have to step outside of XIV for this one because I don't know if I can think of a XIV character I feel strongly enough about in this way because the general atmosphere of "nothing is set in stone for you, please interpret their relationships with your character as you wish!" And so many interactions in the game are written so well.

Marvel is the place we're going to have to go if we're going to talk about a character I can't ship any other way, and the debate around it and what I, personally, hate about how they have been handled in the movies is why I... no longer really care to keep up with most MCU happenings. But it's Clint Barton/Hawkeye and Natasha Romanova/Black Widow. I fell so head over heels in love with them that I just genuinely cannot imagine it going any other way. And lest I accidentally get embroiled in more than I bargained for admitting that, all I'll say is that I also can't get along with how they've been treated individually in the MCU, either. I can't really get into Natasha and Bruce, and I think both of them have been hideously sidelined and just... not allowed to be shown to their full potential too much for me to ever reconcile with the MCU as it is. I have not, for the record, yet seen the Black Widow movie, nor did I actually watch Infinity War and Endgame, and I don't really intend to amend the latter two just because of how I feel about how things went to get here. I've heard enough on the internet to know more or less what's happened with those movies. Black Widow I'd still like to maybe see at some point (it is the one on the list that I haven't really looked into plot details about) because it's finally here and I stupidly would still like to see what they finally did for her, but there's a part of me that will always feel like it's a bit of an empty gesture to give both of these characters any sort of focus now. A little too little a little too late kind of thing.

20. Ship you liked, but don't anymore.

Hmmmm, this one is... also a little tricky for me to think of in XIV-exclusive terms. It honestly might just be because I'm exhausted (my fan decided it's on its last legs last night so it kept waking me up threatening to fall apart or whatever, and I worked a morning shift today so that was Lovely) that my brain is just refusing to compute thoughts, but I don't... think I've had a ship in XIV that I've felt this way about? So, to give you something, I'll talk about a few almost-maybes I've had for my various XIV OCs.

I had, I think sometime around the time I was playing ARR or HW, toyed very idly and not very in-depth with the idea of Astor and Y'shtola because they have a somewhat similar mind for handling things. With the "hindsight" or further development and interaction shown since then and through Shadowbringers though, I ultimately don't think they'd ever work, and it wouldn't really show up in any of their interactions as an "almost," either. It came down a lot to the kind of interactions they might have had during Shadowbringers, and mainly to the way that I see Y'shtola as an incredibly logic-driven character. Astor, on another hand, is incredibly emotion-driven, and Y'shtola does not hold back anything. I think it'd end up hurting more feelings than anything and leading to butting heads rather than a romantic dynamic. Particularly in Shadowbringers, Astor struggles a lot with... a lot. And there's times where Y'shtola's biting honesty helps him, and there's times where it gets to him and wounds him... More in the kind of wounded pride or things you weren't quite ready to hear but needed to sense than anything that'd make them less of friends, but, anyway, the TLDR is that they're definitely better as friends, and I don't think there's enough from either of them that it'd ever really be a thing.

Minerva is a character I have not put a lot on here and I'm still wildly trying to figure her out, so it's debatable if anything lasting will really ever come of my struggle or if she'll just endlessly remain on the alt-pile, but on my list of potentials for her was Thancred, and I am still debating whether or not I want their almost-maybe-could have play out in full because I do like it. To keep it short, Minerva had a rough life and she's had to fight to survive most of it. Becoming a hero wasn't a thing she ever planned for, and it's sometimes still a little wild to her that... it's happened. She's aggressively against the idea of being used and objectified because she's, unfortunately, experienced quite a bit of it. Their dynamic interested me so much at first because I could see her being kind of taken by his charm in ARR, though, at the same time, his reputation isn't exactly a secret, and it's exactly the kind of reputation that would usually make her skin crawl, so it's something they would have had to work around and through. At the same time though, I could totally see him offering her the kind of genuine confidence building and admiration she'd deserve and... she really needs from a partner. But I think they'd ultimately hit a road bump in SHB that I don't think she could really let herself work around, and that's how he deals with Ryne and his grief for Minfillia. Yes, it's eventually handled better and it's something him and Ryne work through after a lot of coaxing, but I feel like it'd just be a bit of a too-close-to-home issue for Minerva that she'd never quite feel entirely comfortable with again. While it's not exactly a forgiveness issue or really her needing to forgive him, it'd... probably be the easiest way for it to be phrased is that she's not sure she can ever really forgive how he kind of took things out on Ryne when she didn't deserve it, and balked at accepting help. It'd kind of hurt her. I can't imagine them entirely not getting along after and I think they could definitely come to an understanding and work past it as friends, but I don't think she'd be able to maintain a relationship. But that's... a lot of theory for a poor girl whom I can't even figure out what kind of job I want her to main. 🤦 One day. One day I'll figure her out.

Subject: Life Update (AKA Jon Spills His Soul)

June 25th, 2018. *Email contains TWs*

Today was the Mondayest of all Mondays. I got sunburned yesterday at Pride (super fun by the way, always recommend. Pride, not the scorched skin.) Really wasn't planning on going anywhere today. Our flight got in at 2 this morning, which was pretty rough. Probably should’ve planned that spontaneous trip to Cali better, but then it wouldn’t have been spontaneous now would it. Uh, I slept in until 8, if you could, on any level, call that sleeping in. Something I overheard yesterday kind of stuck with me in a negative way. I ran into (okay, more like eavesdropped onto) a group of gay men conversing about bisexual men. They were super insistent that there’s no satisfying a bisexual man because they always crave women. I know you know where this is going so yeah, bare with me. It’s so stupid; it even sounds just idiotic, because how can you shame an entire sexuality for the wrongs of a few people. I know it’s not logical. I know, I know, I know. It triggered this... I’m not even sure what to call it. Insecurity maybe? Naturally, the smallest of shit just exacerbated it. I got into a disagreement with my boyfriend over lube. Aloe as lube (which has a consistency akin to vaginal fluids (I’m sorry, even more sorry for brackets in brackets) so that just, BAD ). Specifically, him using it when he topped (dominated, if you’re not familiar) me. He didn’t want to and it fucking spiraled into this even bigger thing where my brain did that awesome cute thing of not shutting the fuck up. I didn’t even want him to touch me. How is that possible? How does it make sense? It’s so frustrating because I know it doesn’t. He started getting moody (I think) and for some reason that made me want to fuck him but- let’s put it this way: I’m finally seeing those side effects of Lexapro. As if I don’t already feel comfortable with my body, the one aspect I’ve never complained about doesn’t work. To top all of it off, I received an email from my agent that says filming for one of my projects has been moved up to August. The producers were talking about pushing this out until November, now it’s August? That’s less than six weeks away. I’m so fucking worried. I’m unfathomably worried that this is too soon to leave my boyfriend. I already know I’m going to miss so much: he’s having another baby in a few months (I can already imagine the new-baby-bonding with his not-even-ex wife he’s going to do), his third to accompany his two other small sons, one of which is still basically a newborn too. I’m going to miss out on these big stepping stones (there’s a better phrase out there, I’m adamant about it but don’t care enough to seek it; jk we both know I’ll get to the end of this and be anxious and not send this email if I don’t find it). WAIT, milestones! That’s the word. Including my commentary because I know how much you enjoy my psyche’s crisis. Um, yeah. I’m going to miss everything; I’ll be continents away in an entirely different time zone, filming a depressing fucking tv show, all alone; with the exception of my ex-boyfriend (who has been weirdly appropriate with me. Are you tired of all my notes in brackets yet?) Everything in my head is screaming it’s a bad idea: leaving. I can’t stay though; like, I can’t back out of this project. Papers have already been signed, the cast is locked in, and I’ve already removed myself from two other projects. It won’t look good on my theatre sheet/‘filmography’ to have that little *incomplete* red mark. To add (lol didn’t I already say thing or something? Fuck it, let’s keep rolling): Jesus Christ, my niece Camden has been so salty lately. She’s feeling so left out since I moved, but it’s not like I’m ten minutes away anymore and I can just easily pick her up. That little girl is my heart and soul; I’d never intentionally hurt her yet, here she is. Declining to spend the night or even hang out because she doesn’t get “all of me”. You have a daughter; what would you do with that one? Right, can’t make it personal. Sorry. Which, I think it super ironic when you think about how your patients (clients?) spill their motherfucking guts out on the ugly commercial carpet of your office (sorry if you chose it, so sorry!) and you’re not supposed to share much in return. My pop texted me to see if I was still coming to my parents’ wedding anniversary party, with my boyfriend. This will be the first time he’s meeting my dad, and the first time any significant other of mine will be meeting the rest of my PA family/friends. I don’t worry about Lin at all- he’s fucking amazing with people, and so, so charming. Jesus, does he have a way with words. Before this turns into a weird, unfulfilling love letter to him, let’s refocus. I don’t want to think about the way my father is going to look at me, at us, as a couple, together. Me, with another man. I’m still reeling over the last glance that seemed to scream, “ew, my son’s gay.” You know how people say things like, “Your parents love you unconditionally; they would never change a thing about you”? That’s definitely not true in my case, and I can feel it every time we’re alone. When we’re joking or talking, it’s cool, but then... then, there’s a silence that sets my teeth on edge and he acknowledges we’re not the same. Not that we were ever supposed to be but, I don’t even think I’m explaining this right, now. When I was a teenager (I know I’ve told you about this), a story came out on the local news about two homosexual men being wrongly jailed for a crime they didn’t commit. While awaiting trial, they were raped and beaten by a gaggle of bigger prison guys. Apparently it was so brutal they required stitching, to which the inmates tore out and repeated the first occurrence. Awesome, right. It’s forever burned in my mind what he said, because I know he wasn’t meaning to be cruel or callous but the words just came out. “I wouldn’t wish that on anyone but if anyone would like it, God knows it would be those sissies. That’s what they all want anyway.” Followed by, “Sodomy is sodomy; they shouldn’t complain.” Every time I’m at my parents house, my brother Dave is amazing at swooping in to provide this phenomenal (majorly liberal) support system. He really pushes to educate my parents and not leave an older generation in the dark. I have to admit, he’s worked wonders with them, on so many different topics. That one though. I just think he looks at me and wishes so badly I was hetero. He’d sell his soul just to watch me marry Lea, I’m sure. Wow, my “just” count is insane but, no editing. Rolling with it; thoughts as they come. TLDR; I just feel like I’m disappointing everyone, or if I haven’t already, I’m going to. I fucking shouldn’t, I know that I’m thirty-three and still waiting for my parents approval is so goddamn old. It doesn’t mean anything though. Regardless, I’m waiting for the ball to drop, and I’m not sure the meds are helping. I haven’t been hyperventilating or had an actual attack but I still feel the anxiety. It feels like a harsh hand around my throat that makes it hard to breathe but I always somehow manage to catch my breath; that must be the drugs. I’m shocked I haven’t once mentioned how huge and disproportionate my thighs looked in every pair of baggy sweatpants and basketball shorts I tried on today. There’s one. It’s so exhausting to even try to talk about, or convey through here. You know the drill: thought about it for hours, picked at my food, maaaay have googled ‘things to eat for slim thighs’. Definitely did. At this point in life... I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Between typing out sentences of this email, I stopped to try to get hard (you’re getting the explicit, uncut version, sorry; also hi, wishful thinking) but all porn does is annoy me. I feel so wound up, anxious, and almost angry. Low-key (this is new generation talk for like, “kinda”, I think) want to just... cry. In conclusion: Jonathan feels all the things and I haven’t even told you half of it... believe it or not. I have a headache and this couch is hurting my neck. This is all you’re getting. Relief, right? You’re like, “Thank fucking god, Jon, you already sent me a Harry Potter novel. Let me respond then you may continue rattling on about your not-even-bad life you’re complaining about.” It really ISN’T bad, for the record. It’s not, at all. I’m just in my feelings and at the peak of frustration. Okay, done ranting. I think I feel better? I might not even send this. Let’s play russian roulette with the enter key. If you get this, thumbs up. If you don’t... I guess I won’t expect a reply. Thank you, always, for dealing with me. I’m sorry these thoughts couldn’t wait... three days. Face palm.

[Sent]