#I've just been so tired and felt so shitty it's been hard to think

[girlitfeelsgood]

I was hoping this cold would just play out as fever->sore throat->stuffy nose->over. But I'm in the stuffy nose stage and I fear I kinda feel a cough coming on...

[kittlyns]

A hard pill for me to swallow lately has been that, despite everything, I'm probably the best version of myself that could've existed. And that's not really a comforting thought.

[edenspoem]

Um so wolves go into heat around winter an it got me thinking. Werewolf!ellie in heat absolutely RAILING reader

Im talking absolutely DESTROYING reader

She turn up at the door like "scissor tongitj?? Scissor tonight queen??? ✂️✂️"

♱|. . a/n: i'm supposed to be writing vampire smut.. but here we are! just need to get something out even if it's shitty (i'm also just sick and dgaf about perfectly writing a blurb).. i've also been listening to juno a lot so all i can think about is BREEDING. mdni.

werewolf!ellie panting at the corner of your cracked door—dark, ripped jeans, a crucible of sweat that clumps hairs to her forehead, shine to her skin—and she rushes a near nothing from her lips before the desperation could crawl out and eat you whole. if she quietened her own heart, she could catch yours pounding. “hey babe, fuckin' missed you. c'mere.” each syllable is accompanied by gusts of her gutsy—and almost visible to the cold—breath. its scent and heat bled through quickly. it poured over, into, and under her swooping fingertips, which had the back of your head snared and pulled into her mouth, eating your response with a whine she never intended to release.

the nature of your girlfriend isn't occultic to you; she drags you into her midnight realm and makes you feel like the worshipped moon. at this point, your brain tends to forget that she's even a werewolf to begin with, and eases in the penchant way she has with you: chasing you, loving hard, owning handfuls of your flesh that she lets spill and manipulate her senses. but, in the epicenter of this brutal winter—your first one together—you least expect a shirt to be shredded from your torso in one, hungry rip, tossed like ribbons on the floor and abandoned as you licked the nectary words dripping off her tongue. “wanna have a fuckin' baby with you.. ahah—shit, can i give you one?” she stumbled in giggles, so sweetly, and fumbled so pitifully with the rest of your clothes, you had to assist before something else was torn.

yeah, she can wear you out giving you 'one' any fuckin' day.

“miss me?” ellie clings, with nails that long to be sharp, into the small of your back. deep enough to bleed. it stung with a soft whimper inside your chest, “mhh—yes, ellie.” teeth collecting the sighed words from your lower lip.

she would rub her pussy against yours until it was throbbing raw, and her hips gave out. it did most times; from the wanton, the sheer letch to let loose, to give you something special—but if you whispered into a safekeeping, it would be about how she lets her hormones get the best of her. more so when your touch is involved. when your tired fingers trace the bushed mess that leads up her stomach in a thin, waning tornado-line, wrap your hand around and soothe her pelvis with pressure—she loses it.

“can't handle it at all, huh?” you pant, smiling at the fucked-out, glistening and red look on her face. her scarred brows tighten when your sticky thighs come into contact with an audible slap. it's her juices that coat you. “poor thing.”

ellie cups her own tit and rolls deeper into her straddle, you're not even sure she heard you; too lost in that midnight realm. but, if you're being honest, you're the one that can't handle it. human endurance has you beat for miles—she has to place your limp leg on her shoulder. “f-fuck..” she trembles. soon enough, the hairs covering her cunt are shining wet with her cum, and she can only hope that it takes. “thats it.. oh my god..” she leans into her nape, voice vibrating deep and hoarse in her chest. she looked like golden heaven, with her head hanging like that. though, her stamina will be the death of you: she lifts her head and starts hovering over you for more, hot breaths that felt cold in your used state fanning over your cheek. “gonna be a goddamn mama, babe. got more in me—if ya' wanna go again, hm?”

[helen-with-an-a]

My WIPs

My Masterlist

Hi everyone. So I've got a lot of WIPs and drafts and things and I'd thought I might share them so you can see what's in the pipeline for 2025.

A little disclaimer: these are in no way a promise to be written. These are just ideas that are in my head right now. I want to write them all but there are a lot and sometimes ideas come and go.

I'll try and update this somewhat regularly but yeh. I hope you enjoy looking through these.

Fluff | Angst | Suggestive | Angst/Comfort | Smut

Barça Femeni:

Kicked Out (R gets kicked out of her home)

Knight in Shining Football Kit (Alexia steps in to save R from an uncomfortable media interview)

Hyper (R's a little crazy at times and Alexia has had enough)

Tips (R wants to take the next step in her relationship with her gf, naturally she goes to the team for some tips)

That's a Lot of Blood (TW: medical incident; blood) (R cuts herself whilst making her dinner)

It's Ok To Be Sad (R is a ray of sunshine, but sunshine can sometimes hide the clouds)

Holidays (R doesn't feel too comfortable about going home for the off season)

AWFC

I Don't Understand Her (R has undiagnosed ADHD but the team don't understand)

Alexia Putellas

Bratty (18+) (Alexia is a bit of a brat)

Beautiful Girl

Talking Her Through It (18+) (Amor and Ale try to get Ale to squirt for the first time)

Notes in the Margin (Ale stumbles across some old books of Amor's)

Subspace (Blurb) (Ale goes into subspace for the first time)

I'm Sorry (Ale gets a little clingy)

First Time (18+) (It's Ale and Amor's first time together)

Ouch (two-part series) (Ale and Amor get into a fight)

Lena Oberdorf

New (R and Lena's relationship is very new and they're still trying to figure things out)

What are you doing here? (Lena and R have a one night stand. R gets a new job)

Georgia Stanway

Traditions (Georgia and R have their own way of celebrating big wins)

What About Me? (R has felt a little neglected by Georgia recently)

Ona Batlle

Broken (Ona challenges R to a game of football)

Lucy Bronze

It’s all my fault (R doesn’t cope very well when they loose an important match)

Jessie Fleming

A Person to Call Home (Jessie comforts R through not qualifying for the Euros)

Keira Walsh

Let Me Show You (When it hits home that Keira and Lucy are done for good, R offers Keira to show her what she's missing out on)

Aitana Bonmatí

Oblivious (R is a little oblivious to Aitana's advances)

CWFC

Benched (R goes from starting line up, to super sub, to unused substitute)

Patri Guijarro

Anticipation (18+) (2 part series) (R and Patri finally have some alone time)

Misa Rodríguez

Close Your Eyes and Feel (18+) (R decides Misa needs a little break from thinking)

English Lessons (Misa decides she needs to work on her English. And it has nothing to do with meeting her teammates best friend)

Soft Place To Land (Misa just needs a hug from her gf)

Because I’m In Love With You (Misa and R have been fuck buddies for years. Both teams are sick of the pining)

Already Written

This is a list of the fics that have been ready and are waiting to be released

Ingrid Engen: Nerves (18+) (2-part series) (it’s R’s first time)

AWFC: Hot Mess (R is having a hard time at the club)

Alexia Putellas Beautiful Girl series: Date Night (18+) (2-part series) (Ale and Amor plan and go out on a date)

Misa Rodriguez: So Ridiculous (R and Misa spend a day off together)

Barça Femení: I’m Just Tired (R has chronic pain)

AWFC: Just Some Stupid Thoughts (R has some negative thoughts about herself)

Barça Femení: Baby (It’s R’s final exams of uni)

Ona Batlle: ✨Lesbianes™️ (2-part series) (R has a shitty day and work and Ona comes up with a plan to make it all better)

Alexia Putellas: Winner Winner (R wins the Grammys)

Lena Oberdorf: The Dream (18+) (2-part series) (Lena has a dream that R helps turn into a reality)

Misa Rodriguez: Call Me Hot, Not Pretty (R just wants to feel hot for once)

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

superhero. l Joel Miller

💔 a few ways to break your heart 💔

Summary:  when words hurt more than anything else

Warnings:  angst, many bad words, he is a asshole, alcohol and pills, ending a relationship

A/N: I did it because I wanted to.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

a few ways to break a heart [masterlist]

It had been a long and hard day, so you were glad it was finally over. As you walked up the creaking stairs to your apartment, all you could think about was taking a shower and going to bed. 

You kept your food stamps in your pants pocket, but you didn't have the strength to think about what you should exchange them for at that moment. You'd deal with that tomorrow, definitely.

You entered the dark apartment. He returned before you. Quietly, so as not to wake him, you went to the bedroom and looked at the bed. He was lying there on his side, deep in sleep. 

Your eyes slid down his broad shoulders and strong back, you smiled gently and reached for the blanket lying on the chair. The blanket was darned and had definitely seen its good times, but you wanted to cover him up and give him some comfort.

It wasn't until you walked up to the bed that you saw it. A half-empty bottle of whiskey and a vial of pills. Your fingers went cold in an instant, and your eyes widened. You put your hand on his chest and sighed with relief feeling his heartbeat, and soon Joel snored softly and the fear slowly drained from you.

"Asshole." you hissed, nudging his arm and throwing the blanket on the edge of the bed.

Joel suddenly and nervously moved. He blinked a few times trying to focus on you, and then looked out the window.

"What kept you?" he croaked, rubbing his sleepy eyelids with his hand.

"Work." you mumbled, taking off your shirt. "But I see I could have come back later. You had a good time."

His gaze wandered to the bottle and he sighed. "Don't be so dramatic." he said, sitting on the bed and putting his feet on the floor. "You're not my fucking mother."

"But I will be the one who finds your decomposing corpse."

"Jesus, do you have to whine all the time?" he shook his head, rubbing his tired face with his hand.

He didn't see your angry gaze, but he felt his skin burning from it. The atmosphere in the room was clearly thickening.

"Whining?" you repeated, irritated, "Oh, wow! I thought we took care of each other, but now I see I miscalculated."

For almost two years, you and Joel had been one team. It was better that way. Safer. Despite Joel's sharp edges, you felt safe with him, but what he did, how he mixed alcohol and drugs, it drove you crazy. 

Sometimes you had the impression that he did it just to tease you, to see how long you could stand it. Things had been bad between you for a long time. And you were getting closer to the edge every day...

"I'm sorry, honey, but I think I'm the one taking care of you."

His voice was slightly amused, but it hit exactly where Joel wanted it. You turned halfway to the bathroom and glared at him.

"You know that if you keep this up, it won't end well." You said quietly.

Joel stood up and stretched. He was a tall man, much stronger than you. But you had no intention of being a meek sheep when the wolf could be ready to attack at any moment. And that was exactly what you saw in his dark eyes. Joel Miller was looking for a fight.

"You're not threatening me, are you?" he asked, smiling. "What else could you do? Throw something at me or scream? Nonsense."

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down. "Listen..." you started slowly. "I've had a shitty day. I don't feel like doing this."

"Oh, my little one had a rough day." Joel sneered, and you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your heart start to beat faster. "Imagine my whole life being shitty. And on top of that, you come and complain about everything!"

"I just don't want you to fucking kill yourself!" you snapped.

"I don't care what the fuck you want! I just want you to shut up. You have no fucking idea what goes on in my head."

"So tell me!" you exclaimed, taking a step towards him. "Don't treat me like someone... someone..."

He looked at you with curiosity, tilting his head. No words left your lips though. 

What were you supposed to tell him? Who were you to him? Or maybe you just imagined that you and him...?

His voice was low and deep when he spoke again. "You really think you're something more, don't you? Oh, sweetie... That's adorable."

"You're drunk, Joel. I'm not talking to you when you're like this." you interrupted him and were about to head to the bathroom again when he stood in front of you in a few quick steps.

You saw his furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he watched you so that you felt shivers down your spine. It was terrifying.

"The best thing to do is run away, right? After all, that's what you've been doing your whole life." he hissed "And I still have to think about how to keep you safe, how to make sure no infected will tear you apart, how..."

"I can handle it myself too!" you interrupted him loudly "And I was doing it before I met you. Don't think you're my fucking superhero!"

"But I have to think for both of us!" he roared. "And you come and complain because I'm trying to cope with everything! You can't even shut up for a moment." 

You stared at him with wide eyes, unable to understand what had gotten into him. Every next word he threw out hit you and hurt you more and more, and you were unable to defend yourself. It was as if Joel was spitting out everything that had been building up inside him for a long time, and you had to take it.

"I thought we were in this together..." you whispered when he stopped for a moment to catch his breath.

His dark eyes immediately found yours. It was another incentive.

"Together?" he repeated, a mocking smile appearing on his lips. "Together. Oh, sweetie! You really thought that you and me... Oh, fuck!"

He laughed, and you felt a heavy stone sink into your stomach. You weren't ready for this at all. At that moment, you gave him a weapon that he could easily destroy you with.

However, Joel's hand rested on your cheek almost tenderly when the words that hurt you flowed from his lips "You were even bad at fucking, honey. You still have a lot to learn. I didn't want to throw a free pussy out of the house, but you're slowly becoming unbearable. What do you expect, honey, huh? Do you think I love you? Poor thing. You're only good for getting fucked hard and..."

You didn't find out what Joel wanted to say. In an instant, your hand collided with his cheek, and a sharp sound echoed through the room. Your fingers went numb, and Joel's face showed surprise, which slowly began to turn into delight.

"The kitten shows its claws?" he sneered.

"Fuck you, Miller!" you hissed "I'm sick of your bullshit! An old guy talking shit about how bad his life is. We all have shitty lives, Joel! And I'm sick of wasting my time with you!"

"Then go away." he said quietly "The door is open for you."

And he left you standing there, in the middle of the room, with heart pounding in your chest, tears welling up in your eyes. At that moment, you knew you wouldn't be staying in Boston for another minute. 

Whatever was waiting for you outside the walls was better than what you had with him.

redemption : superhero. l Joel Miller

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[leth-writes]

I'm so happy to see someone writing for twilight it really doesn't get the love it deserves.

This is weirdly specific, so bear with me.

Can I request Paul (twilight) x reader who's Jacob's ex-girlfriend, and they had like a really messy brake up so they REALLY don't like each other and so Paul and jacob get onto a fight about it.

Thanks for your time I've really been enjoying reading your work❤️❤️❤️

hello, lovely anon!

Usually I do shorter pieces for requests, but I kinda blacked out and wrote 2000 words for this... Sorry?

Please enjoy!

It was quiet, without Jacob. The two of you had been dating for over a year, before suddenly all he could think of was Bella, Bella, Bella. She was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. You didn’t mind the two of them being friends, you weren’t jealous and you didn’t believe the rumors spreading at school, but you still wanted to SEE him! You loved him, for god’s sake! But no, Bella was sad or Bella was tired or Bella wanted to go exploring and suddenly, he had no time for you. 

It had been weeks since you’d last truly spoken beyond a quick 20 minute phone call every time you tried to hang out. In fact, you decided, today was the last day. It was the last day you would grovel and beg for his attention. This was it; if he didn’t agree today, you were done. He could go date Bella for all you cared.

You stomped down the stairs, your socked feet hitting against the soft white carpet, and skidded into the tiled kitchen. The grey light streamed in, illuminating the phone like a halo. It was fitting for something that would determine the fate of your relationship.

Angry, yet hopeful, you strode forward and picked up the phone, resolutely dialing Jacob’s number and waiting as it rang.

Finally, someone picked up. “Hello?” Jacob called, sounding groggy.

“Hey, Jake! I was thinking, we should spend some time together! It’s been a hard couple of weeks, and I haven’t seen you at all!” You said, anger draining and hope filling your chest, suddenly feeling weak at the knees. God, you’d missed his voice. “Can’t, Bella and I are going to try and build the motorcycles. You know she’s been having a hard time recently, and I think I’m really helping!” He responded, sounding distracted and far from the phone. 

The hope shattered like ice, cutting up your insides. “Jake, we haven’t hung out in 3 weeks. I could really use my boyfriend today,”. Even to your own ears, your voice was pleading. It sounded weak and brittle, like you were fragile, not the strong front you’d tried to put on for him.

He sighed, voice crackly through the receiver. ���Listen, you know Bella hasn’t been doing so well, and I’m the only thing that makes her feel better. You can’t expect me not to go out with her, just because you’re feeling a bit lonely…” His voice was exasperated and distant, like he was already done with the conversation.

Suddenly, that anger came roaring back, licking up the sides of your chest and burning away at your heart. You felt yourself trembling with rage, with despair, at the way he was talking to you.

“No, you listen, Jacob! I’m done! If you aren’t going to see me, if you’re going to prioritize Bella, then you can go stay with her! I never want to see your stupid, selfish face ever again, you fucking asshole!” You practically shouted, slamming the phone down. You whirled around, nose practically bellowed steam, and stomped to the couch, grabbing a pillow and screaming into it. You’d show him, you’d go out and have fun all by yourself and prove you didn’t need such a shitty boyfriend anyways!

It’d been a month since you last talked to Jacob, and while the breakup hurt, you were glad you’d ended the relationship when you had. Looking back, the thought of hanging on was depressing; you’d reconnected with your friends in the past month, going out practically every day and hanging out anytime it got too rainy to go to La Push. You hadn’t seen Jacob or Bella around, and you could honestly say you were happy to not have to so much as think about them anymore. It wasn’t your business.

It was the perfect day to go La Push, and your friends were already there when you pulled into the parking lot. It was overcast, no real sign of rain, and a gentle, cool breeze was drifting through. The beach was covered in large rocks, not really meant for swimming, but perfect for drinking and just listening to music and gossiping, and that’s exactly what you did. 

Until, of course, they arrived. Jacob had been sure they were a blossoming gang, but you hadn’t been so sure. You’d never really spoken to them but Billy had thought they were good kids, just a bit… odd. Yet, now, seeing them on the beach, you could understand where Jacob would’ve gotten that misconception. Sam and his friends were massive, Sam himself standing at almost 6’6” by the looks of it and the shortest member, the boy with the dimpled chin, cleared 6’0” easily. They were heavily muscled, each wearing cargo shorts and shirtless, and were rough-housing as they walked, bumping into each other and shoving each other as they approached your small group. The loudest of the boys, the one with the intense expression and the loud voice, shoved the smallest and laughed boisterously. Then, he looked over. And he made eye contact with you.

And he stared.

And stared.

Eventually, you grew uncomfortable, shifting uneasily on the small picnic blanket you were sitting on as you looked away, toward Sam. He was pulling the loud boy to the side, harshly whispering as the boy kept eye contact. You leant over to your friend, quietly asking which boy was which. You listened as she pointed them out; the one staring at you was Paul, and he was dangerous. You gulped, once again looking away and out toward the shoreline.

“Hey, mind if we join you guys?” Sam asked, approaching with his group and staring at you. The others also looked exclusively at you, though not as intensely as Paul, as though your answer was the only one that mattered. Shivering, suddenly cold, you nodded and looked down. “Hey, at least they’re hot,”one of the girls in your group muttered, and the tension was broken. You burst into laughter, snorting as you held your sides. At least you weren’t feeling uncomfortable anymore, even if you did feel a little dorky. You glanced up through your lashes and Paul was still staring, though less intensely, a soft gleam in his eyes and a small, genuine smile on his lips.

That was the beginning of your relationship with Paul.

You woke up to loud pounding on your front door. Racing down the stairs, you skidded to a stop in the front hall, making eye contact with Bella. Fucking Bella Swan was at your door at 6 in the morning, pounding furiously and looking like death warmed over. You sighed, resigned to not getting to sleep in on a Saturday, and opened the door slowly.

“There’s something wrong with Jacob!” Bella exclaimed. She looked haggard, eyes ringed with deep purple bags and pale skin looking almost translucent. Her hair was ragged and greasy, hanging limply around her wan face, clothes baggy and dirty. She looked like shit. Maybe Jacob broke up with her?

“Okay, and why does that involve me?” You said, leaning against the door jamb and staring off into the distance, squinting at the pale morning light.

“You’re his girlfriend, he’s bound to listen to you!” She cried, thin clammy hand clutching at your wrist as she tried to tug you toward her red rustbucket of a truck.

You remained unmoved, now glaring at her. “No, Bella, I’m not his girlfriend, we haven’t been together for over a month, and I haven’t seen him in over a month and a half. He spent all his time with you; why would he listen to me now?”

She paused, hearing the hurt hidden in your voice and glancing up into your eyes for the first time all morning.

“Wait… you broke up? But Jacob loves you!” She said, voice weaker than before, almost a whisper.

“Yeah, well, he cared about you more. But, I guess if he’s in trouble, fine. What do you need me to do?”

Jacob’s yard looked exactly the same as you remembered it. That made you feel oddly sad, like you’d subconsciously expected it to reflect Jacob’s sadness at you leaving. Yet, it remained the same, just as it was before you’d ever come into his life. Had you really had such a small impact?

Bella was already out of the truck, running toward Paul and the others as they sauntered toward the house from the tree line. You sprinted to keep up, knowing she was going to say something and futilely trying to prevent it. When you reached them, she had shoved Paul and was accusing the boys of hurting Jacob, whatever that meant. Paul was shaking, literally trembling, as his muscles jumped and leapt under his skin. It looked like his skin was… moving as he puffed in effort. “Paul?” you tentatively approached, drawing closer as he leant over, panting as his shoulders jerked. “Shit!” Sam cursed, leaping forward to pull you back and away from Paul. You kicked and struggled as he picked you up, trying to get back to Paul. Couldn’t they see he was sick?!

Suddenly, Paul was gone, and in his place was… a giant wolf. It was like he’d been cut out of the world and replaced. What had happened to Paul?

“Bella!” Jacob shouted, vaulting over the porch fence. His skin seemed to split open, replacing by rapidly growing fur, and his face elongated as his nose broke and became discolored. By the time he hit the ground, he was a wolf. Were you hallucinating? You felt faint, leaning heavily against Sam, who shifted to support your weight and drag you away from the fight. Both wolves were now circling each other, growling and barking, trying to nip at each other's flanks. You felt like you were receding from your body, like you weren’t real. Everything felt far away, and your ears rang. Then, you passed out and went limp.

You jerked awake with a gasp almost as soon as Sam caught your full weight, shifting to lift you up into his arms.

“Paul!” he called, and the wolf who had replaced Paul looked over, eyes wide and sad as he saw your trembling form. Then, the wolf was gone and Paul was standing in its place, quickly pulling on clothes as Embry passed a pair of shorts to him. He cursed lowly and jogged over, grabbing you from Sam’s arms and holding you close. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, like a prayer.

He sent you down gently, still holding you close to his chest, enveloping you in his soft warmth as his arms wrapped around your shoulders. The world went quiet and all was right, until Jacob interrupted the two of you by shoving Paul.

“Get the fuck away from her, you piece of shit!” He yelled out, punching Paul hard in the nose and causing a spurt of blood to leak out. Paul cursed again and spat out a mouthful of blood, growling lowly. “You don’t get to say that, asshole! You broke her heart, you have no right to tell her what to do!” Paul returned, standing his ground as Embry and Jared tried frantically to stop the fight from continuing. 

“That doesn’t mean you can put her in danger!”

“I didn’t! She didn’t know until your little girlfriend came along and started shit!” Paul bellowed, gesturing at Bella, who was shrinking into herself behind Jake.

“Don’t bring her into this! This is about your shitty control, Paul! Don’t blame Bella for you not being able to handle a little pressure!”

“Stop!” Sam said, getting in between the two. “Jacob, you go blow off some steam. Don’t come back until you’re calm. And Paul…” Sam continued, trailing off as everyone looked at you. “Just… Just explain everything, okay?” He said, sighing and rubbing his forehead to fight away the growing headache.

Paul turned to you, opening his mouth to speak. 

And that was the day you learned about shifters.

[gumnut-logic]

J Protocol

The Protocols

This one is a long time coming and I've been staring at it for hours, so have no idea if it is good enough and it hasn't been read through by anyone but me, so I'm going in blind.

This is for @onereyofstarlight who has waited long enough ::hugs::

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

John liked to be alone.

It allowed him to rest, to think, and to be himself. There were no demands on how he needed to act, what he was wearing or what he felt like saying.

Alone he could serenade the stars, karaoke dance to his ABBA collection, read without anyone commenting on what he was reading, and, hell, leave the bathroom door open if he wanted to. Being alone had its advantages.

But it also had its disadvantages.

Today had been an unpleasant one.

The fish brother in the back of his head cried foul and described it in much more colourful terms, in several different languages - did Gordon actually know how to speak Greek? All of the above would have had Grandma threatening to clean his mouth out with soap, but really, John couldn’t help but agree with the description.

Even the thought of his little brother had him smiling just a little as Thunderbird Five slowly grew larger.

He had been out in his exosuit, something he usually enjoyed when a rescue was close by. This had involved a couple of idiots in orbit who had done something very, very stupid.

And it cost them everything.

John had been fast, but space was faster and it took their lives.

Scott had been on comms at the time. His eldest brother had all the kind words amongst the command decisions, but a mission failure was still a failure and after the long shift before it, John was just tired and sad.

Returning home to Five was a relief, but there was part of him, a very small part of him, who missed the loud of home.

He liked being alone.

But he loved his family.

And today sucked all the ass.

Gordon, watch your language.

Talkin’ to yourself, bro.

Solitude also tended to promote conversations with himself.

“John, which airlock will you be using?”

But then, was he truly alone?

“The rear ‘lock, Eos. The suit needs some repairs and a good clean.”

“Should I alert Virgil?”

“No, I can manage.” But that would be an excuse to see his big brother. Virgil wasn’t a fan of space, but he would drop by at any hint of John needing help.

A glance in the direction of Tracy Island, in midnight darkness just like the whole half a planet beneath him.

John sighed as he slowed, firing reverse thrusters to kill off his velocity, to a smooth pacing of Five. Splattering himself across her solar panels would certainly be an undesirable end to an already shitty day.

Eos had the airlock open and waiting, enabling John to slip in quietly. Five crept around him with her protection. Being out in space was a raw experience. Beautiful, but raw. His ‘bird provided a sense of security with cahelium between him and the harsh environment.

The airlock sealed and the air pressure welled up, familiar in its reassuring caress. The inner door slipped open and he pushed off gently into the module he had left in such a hurry several hours earlier.

He ran through the disassembly routine for his exosuit, robotic arms pulling it gently from his body. For some reason he found himself leaning into that metallic touch.

Damn, maybe he had been away from Tracy Island for too long.

He would have to schedule some leave.

But he had that experiment running…and Auckland University were waiting for his write up on his comet. He could do the writing on Tracy Island - would his brothers give him the space?

The pun was ignored.

His brothers tried. He knew they tried. They respected his wishes as much as they could. Didn’t understand them, but respected them. They knew social interaction took energy he felt better spent elsewhere. They knew that what worked for them didn’t necessarily work for him.

They tried.

Hard.

But he also knew they missed him.

And he loved them for it.

Returning to Earth added him to their lives in three dimensions and they often wanted to take advantage of that. Hell, he wanted to take advantage.

But there was transition time from space to Earth, and all the stuff he had up here, and…

God, he was tired.

The mechanics finished up, leaving him floating free in the centre of the module.

He let himself drift just a little.

“John?”

Eos didn’t ask if he was okay, but the question was there anyway.

He sighed. “Stash the exosuit, I’ll do the repairs tomorrow.”

“Yes, John.” How did she put so much emotional inflection into those two words?

He refused to sigh again, simply reaching out to touch the wall and nudge himself towards the airlock leading into the central hub of Five.

The room lit up as he entered, the familiar map of the planet below spreading out across the spherical walls. The rescue indicators were clear for once in his life and he was quite happy to pass by the map and head for the gravity ring, aiming for his bathroom and the chance to clean off the sweat under his uniform.

“Hey.”

The sudden appearance of a body blocking his path confused his exhausted brain and he was slow to connect the dots of green, blue and heavy lifting brother.

“Whoa, Johnny, take a breath.”

A hand steadied him where his reaction had sent him spinning just a little.

“Virgil? What? Eos, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Virgil asked me not to. You said I should listen to Virgil, so I did.”

John deflated, and sighed in exasperation. “Virgil, why? You scared the shit out of me.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow.

Okay, so plain, old boring swear words weren’t usually his thing, but he was tired.

That eyebrow twitched in his direction.

Oh.

“Just dropping in for a home visit. That last situation was a rough one.”

“I’m fine, Virgil.” He pushed past his brother. “Just need some sleep.”

“Uh-huh.”

John rolled his eyes as he pushed himself out into the ring, his feet lightly landing in the low gravity environment. He strode across cahelium reinforced glass. “If you’re going to order me back to Tracy Island, I rather you didn’t.”

Virgil was obviously following him, the soft squeak of his specialised boots on the glass a not unfamiliar sound. “Haven’t even thought about it. Just wanted to drop by and see how you were going.”

“At two in the morning.”

“I’m a night owl.” He could feel his brother’s smile bounce off the back of his head.

John grunted as he reached the doors to his rooms. He turned to his brother standing behind him. “I’m going to get cleaned up. Back shortly.”

“Scott says debrief in the morning, but I would like to check you over before bed.”

“Really?” It was whiney and childish, and he earned that extra eyebrow arch, but damnit, he was tired.

“Really.” And there was just that touch of steel in Virgil’s voice. Not quite the same as Scott’s commander tone, but just as final. “Don’t make me come in there after you.”

“Fine.” He threw open the door and wished he could slam it behind him with all the petulance he felt right now.

Virgil didn’t answer, nor did he follow him.

It only took a moment or two for the guilt to sink in and John was faced with the fact that Virgil was worried about him. He climbed up into orbit, into space which he didn’t enjoy, to check on his little brother, only to encounter …John.

He let his head drop against the glass of his bedroom wall. Because of the lower gravity, his forehead did not hit with any of the thump he needed it to.

A sigh. He would apologise, but first he needed to get clean.

-o-o-o-

It was a bit longer than he had expected when he finally emerged from his rooms, but he felt just a little bit more human for the clean and new spacesuit.

Time also helped. His head had been caught up in rescue gone bad. Those few extra minutes helped him step back and breathe.

Virgil wasn’t outside his door, which, considering he’d likely left him with the impression he might have to hogtie John to get the readings he needed, was a surprise.

“Eos, where is Virgil?”

“In the infirmary. John, do you like pineapple?”

He frowned, heading in the direction of the small room set aside for medical needs on the gravity ring. “Yes, why?”

“Even if it is on pizza?”

“Uh, no. Pineapple should never be put on pizza.” He frowned as he slipped into the infirmary. “Have you been talking to Gordon?”

“Yes, and he is most emphatic that pizza should include pineapple in its toppings.”

“Gordon has issues.”

Virgil snorted. “That he does.” His brother looked up as John entered. Apparently, he was doing a medical supply inventory.

He had removed his baldric and harness, and was standing in his overalls-styled uniform without his usual green. It wasn’t right.

As if sensing John’s affronted senses, Virgil frowned. “You okay?”

John shrugged and sat down quietly, and obediently, on the small bed. “You need the green.”

Virgil looked down at himself, wrinkling his nose. “I do feel kind of naked.”

“So why did you take it off?”

“Didn’t need it. Need the suit for safety, but didn’t want to clink every time I moved.” He pulled the medscanner out of it protective sleeve on the bulkhead.

John held up a hand. “Sorry about before. I-“

Virgil put a hand on his arm. “Nothing. Been there, it’s not fun. Understandable.” And that was the end of that.

Virgil gently pushed John’s arm down to his side and began waving the scanner over John’s body.

Ten seconds later he turned off the scanner. “You’re good. Could do with some food, drink and sleep, but everything else is fine. You don’t even have any bruises.” A gentle smile. “You’re good, John.”

“Thank you.” There was a double meaning there, good in health and a compliment on a good job done. “And thank you for coming all the way up here. I could have saved you the trip.” He did know how to use the medscanner, after all.

“There is more to your health than what that scanner can tell me.” Virgil eyed him as he put the device away. “Besides, I like to see my all my brothers from time to time.”

“The time, Virgil. You should be in bed.”

Then as if to throw John completely out of whatever universe he was currently in, Alan bounded through the door. “Virg, it’s working. All ready to go.” His littlest brother looked up. “Oh, hey, John.” And he darted out as fast as he had entered.

“What?” The word burst out of his mouth. “How-?” He glared at Virgil. “What’s going on?”

But Virgil just straightened and smiled. “J Protocol.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Virgil strode past him and pushed open the door. “Come with.”

John found his mouth open and had to shut it. “Virgil-“

“Nope.” His brother waved an arm towards the door. “C’mon.”

Instinctively, John knew that if he didn’t move, Virgil would start on more drastic transport options. After all, John had seen his heavy lifting brother throw Scott over his shoulder in exasperation.

Virgil always got his way eventually.

John let his shoulders drop and walked through the door.

This time he felt like stomping instead of slamming, but the same emotion was behind both.

“Virgil, I’m fine.”

His brother nudged him forward as he shut the door behind them. “Good. Keep it that way.”

“But-“

A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. “John, you need this.”

“I-“

But his brother herded him through the airlock into the central hub of Thunderbird Five.

The sphere was full of brothers.

And pizza boxes.

Scott was sitting cross-legged like some kind of suspended Buddha, poking at his phone. Gordon was upside down chattering non-stop to Alan who was the right way up - there was no ‘up’ in space, but there definitely was an ‘up’ on Thunderbird Five, despite the lack of gravity in her central hub - and conversing with an ease that spoke of extensive space experience.

An irrational sense of pride of his littlest brother swelled John’s heart.

All at once the three brothers realised John was in the room.

“Johnny! Welcome to the party!”

Alan flipped midair in an obvious over-the-top move to land right next to John. “Hey, John, way until you see what we’ve done.”

John frowned. “What have you done?” They better not have messed with his ‘bird.

But Scott had unfolded and was narrowing in on John with a frown. He didn’t say anything, just glanced a question at Virgil who gave him a nod.

His two eldest brothers were irritating when they did that, especially when the non-verbal conversation was obviously about him.

Scott reached out and gently clasped John’s arm. “Good job out there today.”

Yesterday, technically. “What are you all doing up here?”

“Pizza party!” Gordon’s eyes were glowing with glee.

“At 2.30 in the morning?”

Scott shrugged. “Sometimes pizza is just needed.” And there was something in his big brother’s eyes.

Goddamnit, he was fine.

But then Scott gently pulled him into a hug. It wasn’t tight, just a wrap of his arms around John, his head resting, just touching John’s shoulder.

The room was oddly silent.

And John found himself leaning into the hug. His brother’s caring touch etching into his skin, drawing him in deeper, feeding a need he hadn’t realised he had.

His head fell quietly onto Scott’s shoulder. The moment it touched, his brother’s grip tightened just a fraction before loosening again…so, so gentle.

Oh god.

But then Scott was equally as gently pulling away, blue eyes eyeing him as if unsure how he would react. Perhaps gauging his next move.

A big hand landed on his back and its partner wrapped around Scott’s shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.” Virgil nudged himself between them, aiming for the huge pile of floating boxes.

The moment snapped and the world started moving again. Gordon and Alan joined Virgil with the boxes, happily discussing toppings…which ultimately led to the ongoing war between yes-pineapple and no-pineapple on pizza.

Gordon was never going to win that one, outvoted four to one, but he was a determined fish and kept up the battle at every chance.

It was a familiar sound of home.

Blue eyes were still staring at him. Saying so much unsaid.

“Hey, Johnny, me and Virg set up something cool for you.” Alan was bouncing as much as he could in a zero-g environment.

It forced John to look away from Scott. “What have you done?”

“Virgil said he wanted to set you free, but keep you safe, so we did this.” Alan poked at his wrist control.

And the hub walls disappeared.

What?

All his brothers, the stack of pizza, the random slice of pepperoni that chose that moment to drift through his eyeline - all of it, and them, was floating above the night side of Earth with nothing around them.

Thunderbird Five was gone.

His breath caught in his throat. “How?”

Virgil was smiling as he gazed at the view, pizza slice in hand. “A few more sensors on her hull, improved communication with the holoprojectors, and a little bit of programming by Alan, and you have your own space-themed holodeck.”

He stared at the lights of Auckland and Sydney. “You built me a holodeck?”

“Isn’t it cool?!” Alan was definitely bouncing.

John nodded. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

“This is the default view. It draws directly from Five’s exterior sensors. What you see here is what you’d see if we were outside. But I did add a few of my favourites for you and tweaked the input from your telescopes.”

Alan poked at his wrist control and Earth vanished.

It was replaced with a view of the Andromeda Galaxy. They were staring down at a sea of swirling stars surrounded by the deepest darkness.

“It’s not interactive, though. The processing power required for this resolution is huge and Five does have a much larger program it needs to keep safe.” He looked up for a moment, but when there was no response, Alan warily turned his attention back to John. “If you want to add more views, we’ll need to up Five’s storage. We should probably do that anyway. Never hurts to have more storage.”

“Says the video game addict.” Gordon snorted.

“Hey, your holos of fish take up more room than my games.”

“Are you kidding? Zombie death 16 pushed me onto external storage.”

“That was an accident.”

“How?”

“I may have put it on the house servers twice.”

“What? Did you delete it?”

“Of course I did.”

“Guys?” Virgil’s voice was ever so tolerant.

Gordon and Alan glanced at John. “Sorry.” It was a chorus of the both of them.

No, this was fine. It really was.

Andromeda glowed beneath them.

His family was…being his family.

And there was pizza.

He let himself float and closed his eyes.

The smell of toasted cheese and tomato sauce, peppers, that unique pizza smell.

His brothers talking quietly - Gordon and Alan still at it, but desperately trying to be quiet about it. John would look at digital storage options both for Tracy Island and Thunderbird Five tomorrow.

At the moment…

A soft touch to his shoulder and Virgil was offering him a slice of cheeseburger pizza, his favourite.

Scott had gone back to being aTracy Industries Buddha…until Virgil coasted past, snatched his phone out of his hand, and smoothly replaced it with a slice of pepperoni and cheese.

Scott’s protest was muffled by Virgil’s glare.

John bit into his pizza slice surrounded by his family and an amazing projection of his second favourite galaxy.

Yes, he liked to be alone.

But he also loved his family.

And they loved him enough to follow him.

-o-o-o-

[star1ight0]

Denki Kaminari × Reader "Rough night"

I've suffered with night terrors for a long while so I hope this is something that can help you if it applies<3

It was a rather gloomy night in the UA dorms, training had seemed extra hard and your body felt weak. Taking a long shower swaring up and down to your boyfriend you wouldn't pass out, luckily you didn't, in fact you felt a lot better. Still shitty just a little less so now that you feel clean. Despite how Denki acted around his classmates he was a pretty caring person, still extremely hyper but caring nonetheless.

You made it a point not to tell Denki about your rather frequent nightmares but on night when it was particularly bad you'd go over to his dorm and play videogames and cuddle playing it off as insomnia, which was technically true. Leaving out the fact the reason you were scared to sleep or flat out couldn't was because of your mind.

This night in particular it was extra hard to get to sleep, but you knew Denki would already be asleep. You tried to push through eventually falling asleep, only to be awaken clenching your chest and hyperventilating. You pick up your phone clicking on your boyfriends contact, it rang and rang and just as you were about to hang up you hear static before Denki answer "Sparks?? What's up.. it's like 4am" he says still groggy, you can practically hear his eyes being heald open "Can I come over, I can't sleep" you say attempting too hide the panic instilled into your voice. There is a few seconds of silence before you hear him shifting around. "You know, if something is actually bothering you you can talk to me Sparks" he says pausing for a moment before taking a deep breath "I know you well enough to know this isn't just insomnia. I can hear the shakiness in your voice"

You can now hear him moving around seemingly walking around his room perhaps? Thinking of an excuse in your head you hear a knock at the door. "Denki Kaminari you better not be outside my door" You say pulling your body out of bed and opening the door. "Damn you managed to make looking sad and tired so fucking cute" he says grabbing your hand and pulling you to your bed makinig you lay down. As you move around getting comfortable you feel Denki wrap his hands around your waist.

"I'm not gonna make you talk but you are going to get a good night's rest" he says pulling you further into him. After about 30 minutes of cuddling and mindless talking Denki fell asleep, as did you not long after. However peace only lasts so long in the void that is your mind.

The dream that has decided to burden your sleep was that of your boyfriend, tied up and being tortured by some villain. Despite your best efforts you were nothing but a shadow whose streams could not be heard.

"Denki!" You gasp sitting up holding your chest and looking around. You feel a hand on yours, "Sparks..it's late why are you-" you stops mid sentence getting a better look at you. He sees the worried look that seems to be covering your otherwise cheerful smiles "Hey, it's okay your okay" he says rubbing his hands up and down your back. You lean back against your bed placing your head on Denki's shoulder you can feel the tears on your face as you cling to your boyfriend feeling his hands wipe your tears away. "Is this what you were hiding from me? Sparks, nightmares are nothing to be ashamed of. "

You told Denki more about the nightmares later that day and he helped you find ways to cope and rationalize your dreams making sleepless nights less common. With the occasional one here and there Denki was there to talk you out your fears, be it on the phone or a late night cuddle session.

The boy may be a huge flirt but he knows how to make it count. Finding ways to pull you from your darkness and into the light of his corny pick up lines.

Request are open!

This one was kinda messy I've been off and on writing it all day, exams are killing me

[pudgewizard]

I'm gonna try and start exercising so my primary care doctor will have less of a chance of turning me down, but it's just all so sad and stupid to me. The surgeon I talked to said she can operate. She's operated on on people of/more than my size. I understand getting approval from insurance, and I even get visiting the doctor 30 days before the operation just to tell her what's happening. But why would my primary care doctor be allowed to shut down the whole thing because she thinks I'm too fat? If my surgeon doesn't think I'm too fat, why would you deny me from seeing her? I'm just so goddamn confused and frustrated and miserable. I'm happy I made this step in my life. I really am. But losing weight makes me feel miserable. I don't want to lose weight. It sounds so contradictory but despite me hating my breasts (the female parts of it) I love being fat. I just want to enjoy food and be comfortable. But I have to abide by the rampant fatphobia in the medical space that no one around me takes seriously. I'd think I'd enjoy it more if I could actually have a routine at the gym again and if I could experiment with different foods for a change. But I live with my parents and I am unemployed. My dad used to take me to the gym but then he stopped because money got short. We have exercise equipment but as weird as it sounds, I felt comfortable at planet fitness. And I can't just ask my mom to cook different things once in a while. I even felt shitty typing that out. I can only barely cook, and I can't just buy my own ingredients. Things would be working a lot better if I lived alone. But I'm an autistic guy with no job. I can't survive a second out there.

I know I just need to suck it up and just do it. But the idea of losing weight makes me upset. I don't like the way I looked when I was "normal size". I looked feminine. I looked strange. I didn't look like who I wanted to be. And what if exercising doesn't work? What if trying to eat healthy doesn't work and I still am deemed unable to be operated on by my fatphobic physician that's not even operating on me in the first place? I don't want to start over. It was so hard getting to where I am right now in the first place. How am I gonna lose enough weight in time for July without fasting and vigorous exercise that makes my whole body hurt and ache? The surgeon was really nice! Don't be mistaken! But it's the physician that I loathe and fear. It's such a shame that they don't care about how you feel about all this, and how you like your weight. They only care about the numbers and BMI, which btw, was created by a racist asshole. Medical spaces only care about you and cooperate with you if you're skinny. That's the sad truth I've come to learn as someone who's been in and out of medical spaces their entire life. I'm just so sad and miserable. I could cry. I don't want to be denied because of one fatphobic doctor. It seems all so stupid to me. And I'm the only one who thinks so. Idk how I'm going to get through these months.

I've ranted long enough and repeated way too many things. TLDR; tired trans boy should be happy with how things are turning out but is crumbling under fatphobia in the medical space and is miserable.

[pos-syscourse]

no hate, but how do you guys stay so positive all the time? We’re just so upset all the time and our health/neurodivergency (Autism, ocd, (suspected) bpd, etc) dosent make it better. We’ve been trying to “form” a kinder alter for that reason. Feel free not to answer this btw! Have a nice day, and stay safe! /gen

Hey!! Thank you for the ask.

I'm going to be honest; I'm not positive all of the time. I just try to keep this specific blog positive.

I'm very upset, about a lot of things. My autism (level 2 more and more often now) leads to me biting myself, hitting myself, lashing out and melting down. My DID makes me forget a lot of important things. The trauma I've experiences has compromised my immune system, so I'm frequently sick. The depression makes everything that much harder. Hell -- today I haven't even left my bed, beyond to use the restroom and once to get myself a drink.

But that's a perfect example right there. I can absolutely sit and wallow in my misery, beating myself up for not getting out of bed. And trust me, I've been there. But I just... I got so tired of feeling that way. I am so tired of it, because my brain still has these mental pathways telling me I should beat myself up.

So instead, when I get that impulse, I treat the impulse like a pissy little 14 year old who is being abused -- just like I was. I treat the impulse like a child who wants to make sense of the hurt and suffering I've experienced, because that helps me realize I need to be kind to that child, I'm not an asshole, I'm not about to be mean to a kid.

And really, a large part of my brain is still running on those neuropathways; a lot of me is still stuck in that trauma, whether I can realize it or not.

So... dear brain: I am so, so proud of you for going and getting liquid. That was such a huge step, especially when you're struggling. I wish people in your life would've recognized that more. And what do you mean, you've done nothing? You've already written 10k words today (no lie!!!) That's incredible! You might say the words meant nothing, because it was all journalling, but I see a lot of value in it.

... I'm not going to pretend it's easy. It's hard to reframe my thinking that way. But when I'm particularly exhausted, and particularly upset with myself, I think about the people around me. Do they want to be around the shitty 14 year old? Do I want that? No. I want to help that 14 year old feel better so that I can be the 27 year old I am.

And thinking of it that way, and trying it out for a few years, I realized how much better it felt to love myself.

I'm not perfect. I'm still struggling a lot with positivity, and not falling too deep into being toxic with it. But a simple, daily post, where people all over tell me they really appreciate my posts? Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. :)

I hope any of that made sense. I've been on a writing kick today, rambling all over the place, so hopefully this was coherent!

[docholligay]

Shamash day points: Misc Nominations

Boy do I always have so much fun reading these! Thanks you to everyone who answered. It was hard picking the winners, as it often is, but here they are!

The question was: Tell me about the worst meal you had this year.

1 point to @beefsaladthethirtythird with that's herring under a fur coat! I love herring under a fur coat WHAT DID YOU DO:

For new years my partner and I made this Russian dish called "selyodka pod shuboy", dressed herring salad. It has salted herring, potatoes, carrots, beets and onions,(but we might have left them off), all held together with layers of mayonnaise. My partner put way too much mayo on the salad, and combined with the fatty herring, it was so greasy as to be borderline inedible. Like, it was give-you-GI-issues bad. My partner loves that salad recipe, but she also could not eat more than a little of it. I tried to get through it but it was making me ill after eating so i trashed the leftovers. we made other Russian New Years dishes, and they were all pretty good, but the dressed herring was a no-go.

2 points-- @seolh with the saddest bachelor meal I have ever heard

It's late. I've been at the office for over fourteen hours, but finally I am home. I am hungry but I am also so, so tired. A basic salad sounds like a nice, low-energy idea for food.

I take a chicken breast out of the freezer and put it directly in the oven. It is not seasoned.

I put some lettuce in a bowl. I decide to I am too tired to chop veggies right that moment. I sit on the couch. I sit. I sit some more. I'm so hungry.

I go get the bowl and start picking at the lettuce with my fingers, shoving it into my mouth. It is bland and almost bitter and not particularly pleasant. I continue eating it. Soon, it is gone. The chicken continues to cook.

I just want to go to bed, but I am not sated, and know I need protein. I wait for the chicken to cook. I let it rest. With no seasoning or oil, the top of the chicken breast looks rubbery and a bit shrivelled.

I slice up the chicken breast. I consider attempting to add some flavour, but that's effort. I stand at the corner eating unseasoned pieces of chicken breast. It is not unpleasant, but it is extremely boring. And finally, time for sleep.

…THE worst meal of the year, by far, and I did it to myself!

3 points, @katrani with how did you manage to fuck this up so badly what a wild ride:

….it was actually just this morning. I had bought some ciabatta rolls last weekend, for a specific thing, then because of Reasons couldn't make the thing on the planned night. We had a get-together yesterday, and someone had to spend the night because they were a little too drunk and tired to get home. Perfect, thinks me, even though it is the time of year for jinxes, I still have that bread and can do breakfast sandwiches! Well. Morning arrived, cheerful and optimistic. Even having our first real chill for the year was fine, cause it meant I had been extra cozy and woke up gradually, I felt so rested! Amazing energy levels for cooking! …..the bread had molded. I took too long, and it had been claimed by that stealthy t-rex of modern biology.

This is still okay, muses me, I can find a workaround. Except my fridge and cupboards are emptier than normal, as I'm trying to keep things low so I can scrub everything during an upcoming long weekend. However!!!!!!!!!!! A light! A shining, glorious utility food- I have instant potato flakes! I can very easily make some bullshit hashbrowns!!!! Who doesn't love even a shitty hashbrown patty! And it'll still work as a sandwich kind of thing!!

So I mix the flakes with the smallest amount of water, just enough to make them pasty/battery. I season them, I mold them together, they're sticking as patties fine enough! I heat up the oil, and… they fall apart. So badly. I forgot that the last time I used them for this I had to make them into the mashed potato format and then fry dollops of that. Doing it straight out of the box does not work. Can I blame the heteros for straight out of the box being a terrible idea? Probably not, but it would make me feel better.

Even thinking that okay, it'll be a skillet now, I'll break apart the patties and fry it as lumps of potato batter does not work. They just WILL NOT fry up, the oil soaked into the solid portion a bit too much and now it's not cooking right. Sure, the bottom is crisping, and I can scrape that up and mix it in, but most of it has become just a sludge. A slurry even. Completely unappetizing. I'll have to throw it all out, and borrow someone's rosary or something so I can make proper apologies to the spirits of my fiance's Midwest Irish family for fucking up perfectly good potato product so horrendously.

So all I have to offer my guest, 45 minutes after we've been awake, is some eggs, and they do not like eggs by themselves. My fiance and I eat what I was able to make, and they're well-seasoned, and the texture is actually the best I've gotten eggs to be in a while… but it is poisoned by the shame of not being able to care for my guest, any enjoyment I might have would be a slap in the face to their hunger, a breach of their trust in me to be a proper hostess.

As they were leaving they told me they don't really have breakfast most of the time anyways.

You definitely would have gotten points if you had elaborated at all, @iscahwynn because a 7-11 challenge sounds TERRIFYING

[tomyo]

Hi I'm gonna use this figure arriving to have a vent about Soul Eater.

So I'm gonna be so real, my expectations for the franchise are rock bottom. Personally I am pretty critical of Ohkubo and my opinions of him are a dude who really cooked but in an almost Ratatouille esque manner. Idk how this man was revolutionary and created one of the first notable female lead Shonen or a canon non binary character that isn't a stereotype but he did. But like, since the end of the manga, the series has fumbled so hard.

I share a lot of shit on tiktok and people are particularly get hype about the fukuro I own, to which for some reason Shonen GanGan just went ham for a few years with custom computer mice and mp3 players. But often there's a comment like "I wish they made more stuff like this now!" And fully they're right but I'm so defeated with official shit. Said figure above is really the only good shit they've released since the early 2010s and otherwise it's been a constant game of trying to not spend dumb money on secondhand merch. And I've felt the need to take the helm in some more bigger SE fan creations (plush which will go a questioning distance). But really if I think of the most hype shit SE has received, it's all from fan merch; the headphone attachments and the black room oni backpack for instance. Around 2018 was the first major anniversary to come up and since then there's constant "Soul Eater Remake 🥺" and no shame but I just know to give up by now.

So what I mean is, rn we've had the shitty anime anniversary merch release and now the manga anniversary exhibit.....which I'm gonna be real is kinda shit. I know the vague elements used for these types of shows but I sat there like "Is this gonna be 3D recreations or cardboard cutouts?" Turns out both but more of the latter. I'm really kinda disappointed that from what I've seen it's just Shinigami-sama's mirror for recreation and then the rest is blown up manga panels and really subpar cutouts. Tbr I was hoping for the apartment or the school podium maybe. I know the later manga elements would not be on the table sadly. But man, not even weapon recreations or something?

And the other part I gotta be real about, what the fuck happened to Ohkubo's art? I mean last I saw, Fire Force was still quality. But there was the perfect editions and now the main visual for the exhibition and it's baaad. The line art and posing feel amateurish and lazy. It feels like he almost hates the series the way he draws it. I really supported Ohkubo's weirder pieces and even found him a huge influence at one point but the perfect editions are what got me into buying the originals.

Idk I literally have planned to go to Japan for the exhibition but I know it's gonna be so disappointing. This series post mortum is fully just disappointment. The most surprising thing of the exhibition merch was there being any form of plush although they look a little cheap. Either way I know I still want them, I'm just tired of knowing my fandom is obtusely dead. It's become a game of looking at good smile's releases and seeing what niche thing gets a nendo over soul eater. Do that and I promise the results are WILD.

[therealslimstrider]

Alright. Since the shit only hit for the fan for a day and it seems like everything's good now. I get to talk about my 1 year anniversary yesterday, as a treat.

It wasn't our first date, I think maybe our second or third, but last year John rented out the aquarium for just us so I wouldn't feel overwhelmed by the crowds. Which was kind of him, although at the time I felt like it was unnecessary. I did enjoy the slow, quiet pace.

Right before we began dating, I'd gone on a long streak of bad luck. First date after first date after first date, never good enough for a second one. I was so scared it'd end up the same. But we messaged all day, every day, any time we were both awake. We have gone on dates every weekend since then, and we never run out of ideas for something to do, even if it's just sitting at home and watching shitty YouTube videos.

This has been the longest relationship I've had for months now. Which I find a bit of shame in admitting, considering a year is so short, especially for a god. There used to be a part of me that worried it would end without warning, but that part of me is much quieter now.

With the anniversary date approaching I'd been really wracking my brain for how to spend it properly, with no solid ideas. John casually asked me not to plan anything. It was so hard to let go of control, but I trusted him.

I kicked up a fuss because I'm not stoked about being in public recently. Not that I'm self-conscious about my appearance, but I can imagine it looks bad that I'm covered in bruises. I was worried people would think he beats me. (Which he does, but not like that.)

Nevertheless I let him blindfold me and took his glowing hand through the portal. When he took it off, I realized we were at the very same aquarium, once again empty for only us to enjoy.

I cried. In front of him, the aquarium staff, and even the fuckin' octopus.

We spent the day just ambling back and forth, taking our time. I got another plush from the gift shop - this time a banana eel named Gross Michael.

Then we went home and spent the day in my garden. We watched a couple movies on the projector from the hot tub, the fire pit, and the patio bed. When we got tired, we took a bubble bath and then went to bed.

[queervegancryptid]

I need to make friends in real life. Like I've known that for a while, but... I'm really tired of feeling this alone.

Putting this under a cut because I'm talking about my experiences as a nonbinary trans guy, and well... I sometimes feel like I'm not allowed to talk about it. But I need to vent, and maybe somebody reading this will understand and not get mad at me for having feelings like this.

It's tough being trans and dating someone who's essentially cishet aside from you. I know my partner loves and respects me. But he fundamentally doesn't understand a lot of my experience, which is not his fault, but that doesn't stop it from being a problem.

I didn't think it would be this much of a problem. But I know how we got here. The worse the political situation gets, the more conscious of my own visibility as a queer person I am, and it's tough. See, I love being queer. I love being trans. It's one of the few things I really do like about myself. But because of where we live, I can't really be open about it, and I'm constantly aware of it when I go out in the world and have to interact with others. I'm constantly aware that this thing about myself, which I love, and which I've worked very hard to love, is at best an annoyance to others. And at worst? I don't want to fucking talk about it right now. But I'd love it if I felt like I could.

The exception is when I'm in a space I know will be chill. And I'm finding these spaces. But I don't get to spend much time in them. I also don't know anybody. I moved to this city with my partner about six months into dating, because it made the most sense. That was 2019. I don't regret it; I wasn't sure, to be honest, but he's the first person I've ever preferred to live with versus being on my own.

I nursed him through two surgeries. Then the pandemic went down. And when lockdown was over, it was a while before we could do anything, and then a bunch of traumatic bullshit happened. And then last year after Snippet died, which shattered both of us, I relapsed into anorexia and was nonfunctional for several months.

Then as I started to right myself again, the election happened. And it's been bullshit all the way down ever since. And every day is a disappointment lately. It's like, I put on pants for this? I gained weight for this? I ate like a reasonable person for this?

I know this is disordered thinking. I'm doing my best not to act on it.

I've basically abandoned Facebook and deleted Twitter, although I still need to deactivate my Twitter account. I never did much of anything with it to begin with, but still. Most of the people I know on here are queer and many of them are trans, but they're mostly transfem people. Which is great, but I hear a lot about how shitty transmasc people sometimes are to transfems, and that's pretty much all I get that even mentions people like me.

Don't get me wrong: transfem people are justified in their anger when mistreated. And I'm guessing the trans guys who do shit like that were the "not like other girls" type before transitioning. So the misogyny didn't go anywhere and they learned that they can be assholes to trans women, and some of them actively enjoy doing so, I guess.

Can't relate. And I'm not interested in being around people like that. I don't care who it is. I just don't like being mean to people. Except fascists.

Still, I need to find my people, and I guess what I'm saying is, I don't know how. I may also be having a midlife crisis. I constantly feel like I'm running out of time.

It's great being friends with a bunch of great women. They're all weird and wonderful. I admire the hell out of a lot of them. And at the same time, I feel really alienated in general lately. I'm lonely, and I'm not used to being this aware of it.

And I feel like if I complain about it, people will get mad at me or get in my face about it because I'm a white nonbinary trans guy.

And like. I do know other people have it worse than I do. But why does my pain never seem to mean much to anyone? I think it's because most people in my life don't have context for or awareness of it. I also think, once again justifiably and understandably, others who don't have the same experience as I do have their own problems that they're overwhelmed with. And once again, valid. But I don't even feel like I can bring mine up without someone taking issue with it. Because it's not That Bad, to them.

Basically, I feel like there's never any room for my feelings. My partner doesn't understand. My friends and acquaintances either don't understand or I just don't feel like I should talk about it with them for a variety of reasons. And the result is that I feel alone all the time, and I don't know what to do about it.

I don't want to go to a therapist, but maybe I should. I'm just tired of feeling like I can't be authentic, or if I do try to talk about things, having to explain myself to someone who won't be able to relate. And I've been to several therapists in my time. Some have been good, some sucked. None of them has really understood things from my perspective, though, and this isn't their fault, but it's more emotional and intellectual labor than I feel like doing, to explain things to someone who isn't likely to get it in the first place.

I have to do the work of finding people who get me. And maybe I never will feel totally understood, but I gotta believe it can be better than this. Otherwise I'm liable to just. Give up.

I can't get through this shit alone. I've come to understand that on a visceral level.

I love my sisters. I just need to find some brothers, too.

I'm also polyamorous and haven't been able to do much with that in a long time. I'm not specifically looking to date or fuck anybody new, but it would be cool if that happened.

Really, though, I feel like I'm hungry for authentic connection in a space where I don't have to be on all the time. I pitch my voice higher around strangers or if I'm uncomfortable. My partner is pretty much the only person who ever hears my natural voice. I realized this recently.

It would just be really cool to feel heard and understood. I feel like that's natural, and also I kinda hate it. What's the deal with having feelings and desiring connection with others? So embarrassing.

(Note: this is NOT an invitation for people to shit on anybody. I've tried to make it VERY clear that I love and respect my transfem friends, and I'm making my own post about my feelings, to talk about those feelings, not to act like transfem folks (or anyone, really) owes me any kind of consideration. This is me trying to work out how to find or make a space for my feelings, not to demand others be less vocal about theirs. If you have a habit of disrespecting trans women or talking over them, kindly take your ass away from me and mine. Preferably as far as possible away. I have to make this clear because this is the internet and people will interpret shit how they feel like interpreting it, so I try to go out of my way to be as clear as possible to avoid as much of that as possible. Even on my own fucking vent post.)

[furryprovocateur]

saw my psych today. first time i've felt anxious about an appointment with her and it went as bad as i expected. nothing against her, truly. she's sweet and helpful and informative it's just i knew it'd worry and concern her to tell her about the acute heart failure. i mean. she's a medical professional. it'd be bad if she didn't worry. still it just sucks to put someone in that position, i fucking detest doing it. doesn't help that i felt like a buffoon when i tried to explain that i just have no energy lately to do anything. going to walmart to pick up my meds yesterday made me exhausted. what hope do i have of maintaining a regular exercise schedule again? still, it's a fucking desk job. it's not like i'm going anywhere and i spend most of my time dicking around. why does this job make me so fucking tired? why can't i just. . . be more active? i wish i understood what was fucking wrong with my fucking body. i've said it before and i'll say it again: i'll never know what's wrong with my body until they do an autopsy, and i'm not even important enough to get one. fuck. i'm just tired of worrying about my weight, i'm tired of having medical professionals look down their nose at me when i don't lose weight or i gain it back. maybe this just is my body! maybe this is always going to be my body. i made my peace with it. i know it's not healthy, i know it's not right. but it's my reality.

it's just hard to be stressed like this. i mean, i should be, my health is important and i'm eating like shit and knowingly not exercising. like, i wholly should be worried. it's just not productive to constantly be on edge about something and for most days to only be good when spent in absence of it. i don't think i'm unhappy and honestly my mood is good most days, but i have felt this constant anxiousness about my health. not to mention it's been added to the constant anxiety about money and what the fuck i'm gonna do for money long-term. pat's gonna die one day. it's already sick enough that i've exploited him by living with him into my thirties, into his retirement. the best thing on earth would've been if he never met my mother. he won't admit it, but we both know it's true. ugh. i just wish i had a full-time job that didn't kill my soul. i wish i could work one without my soul dying. i don't want to work just to live. i want to live my life without the hovering hammer of poverty. without all this fucking debt maybe i could make something of my shitty life! but who knows! i will always be in debt and in poverty and just generally trapped. i want to leave this state and country and i will never be able to! ugh ugh ugh.

whatever. i should probably delete this in like an hour

[hunter-creature]

So recently I mentioned that we're a dom-leaning switch and this blog we almost entirely post on our dom and sadistic sides, but I did want to talk about our sub parts and how our submitting looks when primarily we do dom.

For a bit of history, I think we've been pretty open that we've had a bit of a rough life and have our fair share of scars. We fell into the trap when first getting into this stuff that because we were less confident we must be submissive. We had some shitty doms and some okay doms, but how they acted always felt off-putting. There was no earned submission, but after a single half assed scene they'd act like hot shit in a way that mostly made us want to slam them into a wall and show them it was gonna take more than that. We actually learned most of our rope stuff for self ties so doms who were too lazy to figure out knots could just finish the last parts.

We know a lot better now and understand more fully day by day what we are comfortable with and desire. A lot of that is being in control, but there are angles and situations that differ. Being used to exert control has a lot of appeal even if it's not our control. Being told to hurt someone, acting as a conversion drone, a weapon, a tool. But that leans heavily in the switch side of our nature, playing both sides. It doesn't feel like a full submission.

Getting us to fully submit is hard won. It's bringing a lot of trust to the table (even if earned coercively). We have a lot of defensive responses we enjoy and are comfortable with that need to be wedged inbetween and largely that does mean tiring us out. Catching us while we're down and leveraging that to your advantage or constantly gaining the upper hand on us until we can't muster the energy to resist. It might be bloody, it might take months, it might mean lying wait for the perfect moment, but to us that is part of the fun. If you want us broken down enough to take control it is winning a war not just a battle.

We're skilled, intelligent, strong. We're a prize to be won and don't accept less than that anymore, but we still enjoy the space. Of just listening and following orders. Of letting go of our independence. We lean into a control that is intoxicating beyond belief because at minimum we trust ourselves to do right by ourselves and others.

This isn't a cry for help or anything like that. We do seriously enjoy what we do, but I wanted to mull over the other part we enjoy that mostly happen behind closed doors. I think one of the hottest things I've done in person is purposely using our memory barrier and hypnotism to fabricate a first date between us and our doll where are doll had a express orders to get us alone and hypnotize us into being a new toy of its mistress (who is us but neither of us could remember that until the doll called our cellphone for pick up). It was cute, queer, and hot (probably the only way to enjoy going to a starbuck reserve location) and I'll probably do it again.