#Me saying things to myself over invisible pumpkin pie

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

(Essay incoming so I'm adding a read more)

I think you've said some good stuff here, and I too get annoyed or even angered by people using the term in a way that I interpret as flippant; but I'd like to add that as someone who frequently described distressing books and films as "traumatising", it turned out that that word was rather apt - because my intense response was caused by my trauma being triggered by those very same things, too often in ways that felt like reliving it.

Here's the kicker. I didn't know I *had* any trauma. All I knew was that engaging with these works made me feel distressed and disturbed as if I were personally traumatised by these things. Like they were real. Like they damaged me. Just from reading them or seeing them. They'd haunt me for weeks, sometimes months, sometimes years. Sometimes they gave me weird symptoms I couldn't explain. So, naturally, I was hyper-avoidant as fuck.

That intense sensitivity and hyper-avoidance, combined with my ignorance to the fact that my psyche was not experiencing these things from an untraumatised position, meant I thought that "intensely distressing/traumatising" was just the normal effect these things had - except lots of other people seemed oblivious, and even delighted in the exact same works. Sometimes none more so than the kind of motherfuckers who actually like traumatising people.

So I figured, as incomprehensible as it seemed, everyone else had to be either too numbed out/oblivious/naïve to realise how awful this shit was, or were actually big fans of bad things happening in real life.

Because if to me it felt too real, capable of destroying my peace of mind for weeks, then surely to some extent that must be the same for everyone else, right? (Obviously not, but I was younger and working with what limited knowledge I had.) From that logic it's really easy to buy into censorship, into propaganda that claims that the symptoms of a society with a dysfunctional approach to life are often born of the media that echoes them, rather than the other way round. It's real to you. It's your only explanation. (You don't want to feel like this. You don't want anyone to feel like this. It's inhumane.)

What I'm trying to say is that not everyone knows they're traumatised. I think as many as those who do, do not. Perhaps far more. And for those people, the only time they are able to touch on the truth of their half-veiled iceberg is when they tell you that The Bridge to Terabithia "traumatised" them.

(I know it "did" me.)

Telling them they're exaggerating, and misusing language that doesn't apply to them runs the very real risk of making it harder for them to treat their feelings with the consideration and weight they deserve, and enabling them to begin the process of unraveling their denial and tending their wounds. It runs the risk of reinforcing the (potentially forgotten or minimised) messaging they may have already received, during and after the trauma, that it doesn't matter. They're exaggerating. They're making things up. Other people have trauma, other people have it so much worse, other people suffer - but not you. Your account of your experience is unbelievable. Silly. You will not be seen or heard or understood, not by anyone else, and not by yourself...

Yet. Hopefully one day. But I think it often takes other people being willing to shine a light on the pain, and say, "Yeah, it's real. It's caused by things. You aren't alone and you aren't exaggerating."

I think the flippant watering down of the word is potentially very unhelpful too, but there's a section of society who want to push the narrative that the vast majority of people speaking seriously and from a place of relevant psycho-education about their trauma are just special snowflakes jumping on a trend. Maybe I shouldn't, but I feel wary of adding fuel to their fire by trying to gatekeep trauma. I don't know what the solution to these two conflicting uses of the word is, or if it's even possible to create a solution that doesn't simultaneously police the traumatised out of expressing their pain the only way they currently know how. Which would set back the whole thing of trying to help people... We get enough trauma olympics ingrained into everyone as it is.

Oh yeah!! Just remembered, Gabor Mate said in either his book from 2024 or an interview about it that he considers everyone to be traumatised, the question is simply one of degree (if I'm remembering correctly). So from that it may in fact be possible to argue that books and films can traumatise people, although perhaps not necessarily to the extent we might associate with PTSD or CPTSD.

I'm wondering if, as a society who cares about vulnerable people, we could stop saying "traumatize" when we truly mean "upset"?

I am sick of hearing sad books or movies "traumatize" their readers. I simply do not believe that happens. A traumatic experience might be adjacent to books (I have vivid memories of books I was reading around certain experiences and even how the contents of those books affected my processing of the experiences). But it's not caused by the book. And, y'know. The weather is Christofascist Censorship Attempts outside.

Meanwhile from the other side I continue to be surprised at just how badly people fail to understand trauma and traumatic experiences in general. Watering down the term isn't helping. Find other hyperbole to express that The Bridge to Terebithia gutted you, chewed on your heartstrings, and made you cry your first pair of contact lenses right out of your preteen eyes.

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

If you're a Hannibal fan for the love of fish do not read 'Bloom' by Delilah S. Dawson with the expectation that you'll get sapphic Hannigram. (The quotes on the inside compared it to Hannibal and the author said it was directly inspired by it.)

*spoilers, tw domestic abuse*

It's the kind of abusive relationship I would expect in a toxic straight male serial killer X sweet autistic coded female abuse survivor pairing. The MC has zero darkness, they are an ideal victim with eyes shut almost the whole time. So if you've dealt with domestic abuse, or even familial abuse, it's going to be a much harsher thing to engage with than Hannibal. A lot of coercive control.

The romance seems one-sided and like an excuse to gain control over the victim. There is none of the mutual darkness, psychological equality, respect, connection or understanding of Hannigram so I would under no circumstances rec this as in the same vein.

There's also some really disturbing bait-and-switch body-positivity that feels horrifically dehumanising towards women in a way that Hannibal isn't.

[naturaldisasterfanfiction]

37. Part 2

The meeting with Erin is going great but Fenty is playing up so I have to deal with her little panic attack, Erin didn’t mind waiting “sorry” I apologised, walking back into the dining room with Feny in my arm and a bottle in the other “awww it’s ok, oh my god. Look at her, she is so precious. Robyn, oh wow” Erin said, she is in shock cooing over Fenty “to see you on work and mommy mode it’s been an eventful day at the office you know, like I said this was and is a wellbeing to see where you feel with things, to see how we are because your mind, your mind works on overdrive, we have products to last us another two cycles, that is great but to hear the ideas already it’s good. But I don’t want to bombard you” sitting down with Fenty “aww you’re not at all, just to get that normality in my life. To get this work feeling back is great, being in London and just being in the home with nothing but my little family, I felt myself slipping and getting a little lazy. I gained weight, I just got comfortable so it’s fine” Erin is looking behind me “who is the little boy” Erin pointed, looking behind me “hey, what is wrong?” Aeko followed me in this room “Penny not there” he pointed behind him staring at Fenty as he made his way closer “this is” I dragged out not sure on what to say, but in my heart I know what to say. Aeko pushed the chair a little to sit down “it’s my step son” nodding my head in agreement to my answer “is he?” looking at Erin “yeah, he is staying with us for a while” Erin cooed out “hi there” she waved at him “Bobyn, Bobyn” Aeko patted my arm “yes” looking over at him as I uncapped Fenty’ bottle “where my dad gone? He gone” he is asking now “he is coming back, don’t worry about it” placing the bottle between Fenty’ lips “I feed her, please” he wants to take care of all of the time, he is such an angel “you can tonight, not now baby ok?” he nodded his head “say hi to Erin, she said hello” Erin is smiling at Aeko “hello” his sweet little voice.

I have been listening to Erin for the past twenty minutes or so, speaking on the new formula we about to put out with the foundation and I don’t think I have heard a single thing, first of all Fenty decided to play up and be sick right on the floor and then she cried and now she did the same thing “I got it” looking behind me “aww thank you baby, don’t step in it” taking the tissue from Aeko “who gave you this” I wonder who he is asking, or where he is getting it from “from moi, hey Erin girl. I was like why he wants paper towels again, what is happening” Jah walked into the room “Penny mess, look” Aeko pointed out “I can see that, shall I take her while you finish this off. She seems to be playing up, girl. This is your first meeting little miss Fenty and you are playing up” pushing the chair back “she has drank her milk but also was sick but she should be ok, just put her to sleep for me” passing Fenty to Jah “I will, come here you!” Jah gasped, he can deal with her dramatic self, making this mess for me. Crouching down “remember when I didn’t have this issue” I laughed to myself “we all go through that stage, welcome to motherhood. Wait till she is a toddler and is making the most noise and mess on top of that” I don’t think I am looking forward to that “you don’t want to go with Jah? You can help him with Fenty?” Aeko shook his head.

Aeko has literally taken over, he is sat on my lap now “I try please” Aeko asked Erin, laughing at him with his hand out “Bobyn try, I try” chuckling at him being dead serious “your dad won’t be impressed trying foundation on you know, I think this will be a little too dark for you but we can try it” grabbing the concealer bottle instead, turning his hand to put a little on the back of his hand “now we rub it in” slowly rubbing in the concealer with my finger instead “and there you are” smiling at him, letting his hand go as he stared at the back of his hand all confused “he seems so close to you, this is so sweet. How is married life for you? I mean when I read it, I wasn’t shocked, but I was so happy for you, I was like she has been waiting for so long for that moment. We have known each other for years and this is the moment for you” I cooed out “it’s challenging, it has its moments, but I love it. I love that I have my own family, I think it bothers others more then it bothers me with the face I am a step mother and it’s different for me but, I don’t care. The love these kids give it’s a feeling you can’t describe. Yes I am not their mother, but you can’t amount to the love they give off, I won’t blame the kids at all. But I am happy, but it has its moments” I shrugged “like every marriage, been married six years and I am still asking my husband to put the toiler seat down, some battles you will never win” I laughed out “oh my god, it’s like I am asking to do one thing for Fenty skin for me, it’s always yes I am doing it. It’s on this invisible list but he has time to hide in his games room” Erin laughed “men are terrible creatures, asking them to do a thing is like what is the point even. I did read that Chris is on the board, and I read for Fenty Beauty, I was thinking huh? Ok this is a misprint, but they got it wrong” nodding my head laughing “I saw that, even I got confused. I wouldn’t want him to touch this side at all” imagine that.

Erin’ meeting was productive, so to say. It took longer then it should have but that was because of Fenty “you not going to play today? You want to come with me?” Aeko is like my second shadow, something Chris should be here for, but I guess not “I help” smiling at him “that is ok, you can help. Shall we remove that makeup from your hand, my shit is waterproof” I winked at him and he got ever so shy “let’s go baby” I should have some remover downstairs “Robbie, where is Chris?” my mom asked “You know where he is, not here clearly” my mom is displeased a little, I know with the look on her face “Aeko, go and find Mel and say to her you want your shoes, we can go outside” he needs to do something “you wait here?” Aeko asked “you know I will be” he ran off “you are being so calm that Chris is not here, even for the nights. He should be here Robbie” my mom is right “because I am not going to make him stay here when he wants to be in that home mom, he wants to be there then let him. I said if I hear something stupid then he will hear it” I can’t just force him to be here “I like that little boy, I have no issues but he should be with his dad. He should be making the effort Robyn; he is left you like this. What if we weren’t here? Tell me this Robbie, I have no issues with him but with no father or mother here of his own he shouldn’t be here and leaving this on you, you are still anew mother and need that help. It’s wrong when you are trying your best in this, he should be helping you. This is his son too” nodding my head in agreement “mom, I understand. Trust me I do; he doesn’t bother me. He just wants the attention his fucked up parents don’t give, if his dad wants to use this time to play with his friends, so be it. He is a grown adult” I just don’t understand what my mom wants me to do

“Oh my god, Aeko. Look at this!” Jen my saviour has bought her sons to play with him, I am so happy because it saves me from going outside with him “say hi to auntie Riri!” I opened my arms as they both ran into me, crouching down to them “hi auntie, we missed you!!” Aaron said “I missed you too babies, aunties babies. And guess what?” hugging them close “mom said you had a baby” Aaron said “I did, I had a baby. I can’t wait for you to meet her but I want you to be both so kind, like you both are” moving back from them “this is Aeko” Aeko pouted his lips and put his head down “what is wrong Aeko” he doesn’t seem happy “awww my pumpkin pie, what is wrong?” Jen said “look, it’s Jen, they come to see you Aeko and play. They are nice” I think he is just shy “I got that” Justus pointed at Aeko’ PJ mask watch “see, he like PJ too. You will be ok” he needs to learn how to play with others “you going to shy him your things?” Aeko lifted his head “auntie, who is this?” Aaron asked, “this is Aeko, this is my step son” Aaron is inquisitive “how?” he is confused “because I married his dad, that is why. I want you to be extra nice to him ok?” I pray these boys so be nice to each other “I will auntie, come on let’s go outside” Aeko seems a little unconfident “it’s ok, they are nice” this boy is not feeling it “I will be with you, come on you!” Jen said, she won’t have no for an answer so she will take him.

Stifling out a yawn as my phone pinged in my lap, checking my phone and seeing it’s Chris, he really text me after this like I am not his wife. The phone unlocked, reading the text ‘How are you and the kids?’ that is nice, like honestly. I can’t even be bothered to text him back so I will call him instead, also his text was a little lacklustre for me, also late as hell. I am not going to be on his case, I will in no way shout either “hello” he answered fairly quick “am I not gummy bear anymore? Just hello?” I said, he laughed “yeah, just I know I text late so I was preparing for the backlash” he knows, he is not stupid “now why would I do that, not like you left me to fend for myself. Never that” I sarcastically said, I think I can hear music in the background, and I can bet a little money on them idiots being there with added females “I need to go, Fenty is crying. Ring me back in a half hour” I lied, disconnecting the call. I think I am going to pay him a visit instead, I mean that is my husbands home and I can do what the fuck I like, I trust him because if I didn’t then I wouldn’t let him stay there alone “Melissa!” I shouted getting up from the couch “Melissa Forde!” I shouted again, where is that woman “why are you shouting?” she came into the living room “we are going to Chris’ home, ready?” Mel laughed out “I am always ready but is there a reason for it? Please don’t tell me?” shaking my head “no, just a little curtsy call. Welfare check, mother can you watch Fenty for me and Aeko. We will be quick, promise” I will literally be back, he lives not far from here. It is literally ten minute drive which is convenient.

I laughed to myself, to think Chris wanted me to stay here. The gates are opened for the world to walk in, he doesn’t care when he’s with those bums and it annoys me because anything could happen to him “we fighting?” Mel asked as we got out of the car “not so much fighting it’s just a welfare visit, mind you I don’t know any codes for this home” closing the SUV door “no need, the garage doors open” Mel pointed out, I know that way. Chris took me this way when I was pregnant and I came to visit him, the baby shower was the cutest thing “can’t believe these bitches are alive still” his dogs are just staring at me in their cages “not barking today” I said walking into the garage “Rihanna” some guy said, I don’t know him. Looking over at him and proceeded to walk in, I do not like this at all. The whole set up is like come and rob me, it’s stupid and unsecure, he knows who he is and how people could just do anything to him. I remember that ugly ass voice, his big mouth just doing the most “Chris said no girls, and I mean technically she is dating you and she is a friend of a friend, that bought along another friend, and that friend, so on” he started laughing, turning the corner and seeing his ugly ass in my husbands kitchen “what do we owe the pleasure of you being here” Hood half shouted, there I girls here but I heard what he said “where is Chris?” I asked “outside, you want a drink?” he offered “if I wanted a drink in this home I would get it myself” walking off to find him, the home is deadly quiet now, nobody is speaking now that I have come which I think is good, they are shook.

I don’t expect much from Chris, he is of course painting some space of his home “gummy drop” he smiled climbing down to me, he is more happier in person then on the phone “I am not happy” I added “that doesn’t shock me, but why?” Chris placed his arms around me “your home is open, I just came into the home without any security, without a care. Why?” looking up at him “I did close it?” shaking my head “and there girls here” I added on top of that “I have been here, I asked them to leave. They were being disrespectful, they trying to say I am whipped by you and all that shit. Just got me angry, not happy so that happened. I uhm, just been doing this?” nodding my head “all night yeah?” he isn’t sleep clearly “perhaps, but I just wanted you to stay here and stuff, I am just being hard headed now but I miss you” he can be so hard headed at times “you’re annoying, just come back after you finished playing here. Tell them to go, you are better than them Chris. You really are, you are not on their level anymore Chris” Chris knows I am right “I am super happy to see you though” I grinned, I know he is.

[grimimic-blog]

The story I made for the game collaboration between me and https://urg-urg-urg.tumblr.com/

Halloween 12 all-stars at the Olympic games team racing, featuring Dante from the Devil May Cry series and Knuckles

AKA A huge Hallows eve!

It was no secret to feyfolk that humans were boring. Nearly void of magic, Nowhere near as attractive as elves, all they ever wanted to talk about was taxes and back pain, and even a starving hill ogre wouldn't eat one because they tasted so awful! Truly the worst species on the planet, but something Gong had overheard earlier in the week while visiting a human tavern had caught the little goblins ears. Human holidays were strange and foreign to many feyfolk. It didn't make much sense to pick an arbitrary day to be wear green and binge drink to Gong. She already did that just about everyday, but this "Halloween" had her full attention. "Fizzy hurry up I don't want to miss all the free shit!" Gong yelled in the direction of her closet. A light thump and some obscured insults preceding the purple fairy fluttering from behind the corner. "Hey you're the one that said we had to "Dress up to get free candy"! I'm just trying to make sure I look good. What happens if I meet a hot guy while we're out!?" "Don't kid yourself Fizz, we both know if you set yourself up for failure you're just going to get drunk and crawl in bed with me again after I fall asleep." "S-shut up! That was one time and I was because I was cold! Just get in here and help pick out something for us to wear!"

the girl's shared closet was surprisingly spacious, but that had a lot to do with all small the girls were themselves. Outfits lined the walls, Hanging from hooks and sitting neatly folded on shelves, but where soon to be scattered on the floor as their owners tried to find the perfect style for the nights festivities. A pair of cocktail dress's that happened to be the nicest thing either of them had ever pull from a dumpster, Some comfy pajamas, A pair of thigh high boots that were actually just regular boots on a normal sized person, and an invisibility cloak that made itself invisible when worn rather than the subject wearing it all lay in a pile on the ground before the girls had picked their outfits for the night. A simple cloth vest skirt combo for Gong, and a long silken dress for Fizzy.

The streets were dimly lit by orange glow of nearby lamp posts. The sounds of screaming children dressed in caricatures costumes of feyfolk that Fizzy and Gong would have found rather insulting if either of them had focused on anything other than their fantasies of what an entire night of free candy would be like. A fantasy that was about to be rudely interrupted by what appeared to be two disheveled, and slightly bloated werecats with plastic ears and tails. "Aayyyy whha-WHAT are you kiz gona do wihou a canny bags!!" Asked the first woman at a volume louder than needed. "Ignore her please. She's had a little too much partying tonight" Said the second stranger, as her friend finished the liquor bottle she was holding. Popping the strained button on her small shorts in the process. "Naht the only one am I!" her overly intoxicated friend replied before giving her soberish friend a hardy slap to the gut that sent the small mound into a sloshing fit. "Alright you're going to home to bed! Stop bothering these Girls."  She said before both werecates walked off into the night. "Gong. That woman said something about a candy bag. All of these kids have candy bags! You didn't say anything about needing bags to get free candy!" "Relax Fizz. The bags can't be that important right? Even if they are we could totally kick the crap out of one of these kids, they're only like five years old, and I brought my brass knuckles." "Fine whatever. I still think there's got to be some kind of catch. No one give things away without making you pay for it". The first house of the night was an unremarkable little thing painted white with green shutters. On the porch sat an older looking man dressed as some sort of vampire farmer who called out to the mas they approached. "Ohh aren't you a cute one! What are you supposed to be one of those pocketmans?" "I'm a goblin, and my friend is a fairy" Gong replied. "Oh you kids and your youth! Here you go. A candy corn on the cob for you, and one for you're little birdy there too".

"Now I know why we needed bags" Sneered Fizz as she crammed another head-sized piece of candy corn into her mouth.  The purple sprite's middle  pushing more, and more outward with each swallow. "We'll be fine." Replied Gong. "We can just eat whatever candy we get as we're walking. It's not like every human is going to give out weird stuff like this right?" "Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you spit everything with me fifty fifty alright?" You're like a fifth of my size Fizz! it already looks like you swallowed a tennis ball, and I don't plan on rolling your fat butt all the way home!" "you're one to talk. I'm pretty sure I heard you pop a seam a few minuets ago." The purple pixie punctuated her point with a firm slap to her companions rounded belly. The girl's conversation was cut abruptly short when Gong nearly tripped over the steps leading to the second house of the night. A modest purple building decorated in little ghosts and uncarved pumpkins. The two girls were about to knock when the door burst open and a particularity unspooky spirit stepped out. "Hey there kiddos! You two sure are in for a treat!" Piped the cheery little ghost. "Dude we're like 26" Replied the deadpan Fizzy. "That's alright! You girls can still have a taste of what's under my sheet!" "I'm calling the cops." "My apple pies are famous around here, but not very good for Halloween; Until this year anyway! I've combined apple pie and caramel apples into the ultimate confection!" Cheered the man in the ghost costume as he pulled two caramel covered disks on sticks from under his sheet, and handed them over.

"These are pretty good you know?" Gong said with her mouth still half full. "Kind of hard to eat, but still good". If Fizzy had been listening she didn't or more likely couldn't answer, but being submerged in a pie near the size of your whole body will do that. The difficulty of trying to carry and eat an entire pie on nothing but a cheap craft stick had forced the short sweeties to rest at a picnic table not far down the street. Each bite forced Gong's belly out farther and farther. Straining her clothes, and forcing her legs apart to make room for it's gravid shape. By the time the last bite of thick caramel and flaky apple pie passed her lips the green girl could have easily been mistaken for some near the end of pregnancy; But goblins may as well have been giants compared to fairies, and the effects of the confection were far more pronounced on Fizzy. The candy corn had already left her more than a little bloated, but as the purple pixie slowly ate her way past the hard caramel shell and into the center of the apple pie her belly had ballooned to dramatic levels. Her clothing stood no chance of containing the beast known as the faerie's gut. She laid prone in the pie tin on her basketball of a belly, naked from the waist down, trying with all her might to force any crumb withing reach into her mouth. "Uhh Fizzy any particular reason you aren't wearing underpants?" "Were you not paying attention earlier? What If I meet a stud while we're out? Panties would only get in the way." "Oh right. I forgot that purple balloons were every man's dream girl." Snided Gong. "Anyway, let's get going. the night isn't over yet, and we've got houses to hit."

Gong rang the doorbell of the third house. clutching her heavy, heaving tummy. If she let go her balance was at risk, and the mental image of an watermelon explosion was one she had to shake away more than a few times. The trudge to the third house was made that much longer by her slow, exaggerated, waddling. Each step a miniature battle with her own full tummy. A purple blimp of a pixie bobbing and swayed as she floated behind her. Her own belly nearly scraping on the ground  until a flurry of flapping wins sent her back into the air. The door creaked open. A green sheet that looked distinctively like the ghosts from the earlyer houses poked it's head out the door, googly eyes bouncing wildly. "Who daressss enter the lair of the sneeeeeek?" Hissed the man in very ghost looking "snake" costume. "Nice costume... Dig the color." Gong weezed between breaths. Carrying the extra weight of her turgid gut had left more tired than she realized. "Thankssss friend! I made it myssssself!" Fizzy who's wings were already tired of holding her massive body in air chose to interrupt the two green revelers conversation. "Trick or treat! Now just give us whatever weird candy you've got back there and let us go". If plastic googly eyes could look confused the snake would have looked shockingly bewildered. "There's no weird candy here friends. Just some gummies I'm afraid." Fizz and Gong let out a collective sigh of relief, but apparently it had been too soon as seconds later both of them were nearly knocked over by the enormous gelatinous treats tossed to them by the man in the snake costume. An impressive feat seeing as the costume possessed no arms. "There you go girls, gummy pythons! Hope they're good, I made them myself!"

Bit by chewy bit the gelatinous reptiles were forced into the already packed stomachs of the minuscule monsters as they approached the fourth, and last house on the street. "Ugghh... I swear he must have used a real snake to make molds for these" Fizzy groaned. "I can see the scale prints". "How are we supposed to eat these anyway! One of these is as long as my whole body!" Gong added. "You just gotta slurp it down girl! You've had boyfriends before haven't you?" Fizzy punctuated her insult by taking a large  gulp from the tail end of her gummy snake. "Hey Fizz maybe you should be more careful? You might choke....Or explode." Gong said between bites of her own sugary treat. "you're already looking kinda fat honestly. I was only kidding about the whole rolling you home thing earlier... Are you listening Fizz?" Fizzy unfortunately was not listening as she was far too preoccupied with choking on the massive sugar serpent that currently clogging her windpipe. "Oh my Gods Fizz! Don't worry I-I'll help you! Don't die!" Gong tried every idea she could think of but Fizzy's tiny body made the Heimlich impossible, and the gummy was wedged far too deep in the fairie's bulbous tummy to be dislodged by pulling on it. "Ok. Ok. Think Gong. You can do this." The Goblin muttered to her self, voice seeped in panic. "Ohh I really sorry about this Fizzy. Just hold on I've got another idea." Fizzy wasn't even given a chance to reply before Gong seized the end of the gummy snake and pushed it deeper into her gullet. Slowly the candy serpent was forced into the faerie's stomach. The already strained clothing stretched thinner as seams and stitches popped one by one. Both girls silently hoping they wouldn't be joining them in a similar fashion. As the last of the gummy was crammed down her throat Fizzy fell to the ground. Wings no longer able to lift her boulder of a belly. The impact being the final straw for her poor clothing before the tortured garment released its death knell as it torn to shreds. Fizzy was now nude, and grounded by a belly several times larger than her own body, but she was alive, and the sugary serpent was finally slain. "Oh-oh hell Gong! I though I was gonna die!" Fizzy wheezed out between gasping breaths. "do you still want to go to the next house, or should just head home, so you can rest?" Asked Gong. "No no I still want to keep going. There's only one house left on this street, but I...." "But what? "Do you feel sick? Did you hurt yourself?" Gong's voice was beginning to take on it's previous worried tone. "I can't move... My belly is too heavy..." "I told you this was going to happen! Splitting everything fifty fifty was a stupid idea from the start." "Well we wouldn't have had to eat everything while walking if SOMEONE had remember to bring treat bags!" "Fine I'll carry your fat butt around until we get home! Just let me finish my own gummy first." "I'm not fat. I'm full. there's a difference." The fairy mumbled to herself, as her friend resumed eating the candy snake hanging from around her neck. Choosing to take bites proved to be a much better strategy on Gong's part than swallowing the entire sucrose reptile whole, but it was also much slower. Bite after bite the gummy shrank, and Gong's belly grew. The fabric of her clothing pulled tighter and tighter, threatening to tear any second and leave her as exposed as her purple companion. As the last bit of gummy passed her green lips, Gong took notice of the effects it had on her stomach. The gigantic green orb had ballooned to the size of roughly half her body. Cramming it full with a gummy almost the same length as the goblin was tall may have been a bad idea. No it DEFIANTLY was a bad idea, but there was no way Gong would ever waste free candy!

"Ohh hell... This. This is heavy." "see not so easy is it!" Chided the bloated fairy. Her smirk would have left much more of an impact if not for her own leviathan middle. Gong struggled to lift her huge friend into her arms. A slip of her hand eliciting a sharp gasp from the massive Fizzy. "Watch where you grabbing Gong!" "Ha ha. Whoops." Gong responded. Her face red with embarrassment, as she finally succeeded in hoisting Fizzy over her head, and started the long trudge down the street.

Thud, creak,  thud, creak. Heavy footsteps pounded against aged wood. The combined weight of the two girls was less than that of a large human, but that didn't stop Gong from having a miniature panic attack as each step groaned in their wake. She laid Fizzy down near the doorstep, making sure the overstuffed fairy wouldn't tip over, and rang the bell. Inside the house hurried footsteps responded to the noise. "Like just a sec! I Need *hic* to get my costume on!" For a moment they considered walking away. Cutting their losses and going home unexploded was by no means a bad idea, but as the door swung open, and and the smell of sugary treats floated out, that thought, and really any common sense warning  the two girls about the repercussions of expanding their already massive waistlines was immediately dashed. "Like *hic* sorry about that. Can't hand out candy with out my costume now can I?" Just like the last three houses the owner was dressed in her own variation of a ghost costume, but unlike the others she seemed sort of lumpy around the middle, and Gong swore she could hear the woman emitting a noise that sounded remarkably like faint static.

"Please lady! Just please don't give us anything weird! I can't take anymore. I'm so big already." Groaned The massive Fizz. "Ohh man kid, *urp* like what the hell is wrong with your weird purple dog?" "She's fine don't worry about it. Just tell me you don't have anything on a cob, or a stick, or that you made out of snakes?" "Sorry I don't have any of those. All Ive got is some bags of these fizzy rocks, but they're like old and stuff, so they kind of melted into fizzy boulders." Answered the ghost lady, who pulled two large bags of the candy off the table next to her. They tore into the bags immediately. The woman in the ghost costume hadn't lied when she said the candies had melted together. Large crystalline chunks of candy as large as Gong's head had formed in each bag. Fizzy was devouring mouthfuls of of the hard treat, Seeming to have forgotten the incident with the gummy snake already. Gong ate at a slightly slower, but still noticeably ravenous speed. Half because she wanted this all to be over so she could lay her tired belly to bed, and half because she was too greedy to resist the the gift of free candy. "Ugghh what is this stuff?! My mouth feels all weird, and tingly!" Fizzy whined. "You got anything to drink back there lady?" "Nothing except some orange soda, and I like *hic* totally don't recommend it. "Come on lady we haven't had anything to drink all night. We're dying over here." "Wait here. Said the ghost. After a brief moment she returned from the kitchen with a six pack of orange soda that she handed over to Gong. The first can quenched their thirsts. The second was for fun. The last was because they were both too gluttonous to stop. "I feel- *urp* I feel funny. Fizzy griped. "Aww is *hic* Fizzy felling fizzy?" Gong joked. Oblivious to the fact that both of them were slowly growing rounder. "This *hic* isn't funny Gong! Look at us! We're blowing up!" "I like did try to warn you" Said the woman as she removed her costume. Putting her own bloated stomach on full display. "I've been bloated all night. Those fizzy rocks take forever to dissolve when they get old. "Fizz we need to go now! My belly is *urp* too big! It's getting hard to move!" Gong panicked as the seams of her clothing fought against the inflating green orb inside them. She grabbed Fizzy and waddled away from the house as quickly as her heavy body would allow. Within moments the sound of ripping fabric announced that her clothing had just lost the war against her still inflating gut.

Gong heaved her back into the purple boulder. It rolled slowly, but steadily in the direction of their home. Halloween had not been kind to the goblin nor the fairy. As the last light on the last porch went off signaling the end of the night's celebration both of them were left stark naked, with heavy intensely full bellies, each nearly the same size as Gong was tall. "I was kidding when I said I didn't want to roll you home earlier." I didn't think it was going to be an issue. Gong grunted, as she rolled her friend home. "Maybe your psychic?" Fizzy said. her voice thick with sarcasm. "Can you tell what number I'm thinking of right now?" "No, but I bet it's smaller than your current weight." Gong shot back. "Alright funny girl. Just watch where you going ok? You pushed me into some trash and now I've there's a restaurant flyer stuck to my boobs. What the hell even is a "thanksgiving" about?" "Sorry Fizz. I'll peel it off when we get home. I'm sure it's nothing interesting anyway. You know humans are boring.

THE END

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

Wanting him to be the shooter so we can support him as a hero, because that's a more emotionally compelling narrative than "he's an innocent scapegoat perhaps picked for his facial features, outfit, health insurance history, lack of powerful allies, and being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Assuming he's the shooter puts a face to the folk hero and can, counterintuitively, make us feel like the cause of justice is more powerful for having an identifiable figurehead.

It makes us feel less helpless in the face of class warfare to imagine they caught the right guy, because to think otherwise reveals the truth of a brutal system of class oppression that can crush all of us.

Even people who are in favor of Luigi speak as if he did it, which is really bad too do.

The guy has an entire police force, city goverment, judicial system (judge who has major conflict of interest ect) and wealthy class members who abuse labor and lives of the impoverished; against him.

If you are in favor of him you still need to use "alleged" when speaking of him, because he is alleged to have done it.

A ruling has not been made.

Using alleged no matter the circumstance is very important, it prevents skewing of narrative or truth and prevents people from snap judgments.

We jump to conclusions and to the first thing we hear as being true, using alleged prevents false guilty verdicts.

[fangirlingwhileblacktarot]

Wanna Bite (Dean x Reader)

sorry the pic is so effin’ big. tumblr hates me today...

Characters: Dean Winchester & Reader Summary: One-shot, where the reader is going on a diet and Dean wants to make sure she’s okay. Works for Plus-sized reader (like myself lol), but really we are pressured into body insecurities? Tried to keep it racially open, as well. Wordcount: 2100-ish Warnings and Ratings: Fluffy, romantic flirting, sexy talk; Body insecurity, little bit of angst A/N: This was fun to write. Would love to hear your feedback - pushing myself to finish and share more of my SPN story ideas. 

**** "Wanna bite?" Dean's voice nearly echoed through the quiet of the Bunker Library. He holds out a fork full of pumpkin pie to your mouth, playfully teasing you with the creamy harvest orange creation, daring you to give in. You want a taste of something alright, but he's not offering that just now. You do get a tiny thrill from his little wicked smile, as you make him wait. "Nope. I'm on a diet," you announce. "Since when? Come on, I need your opinion." Dean had bought 6 different pumpkin pies, including Patti Labelle's brand, for taste testing. You can not break his Pie-loving heart. You open you mouth for Dean and catch the pie on your tongue. "Mmm...I give pie number three 4 stars outta 5...I know, you probably can't tell..." He must be surprised in some part because of the pizza you chowed down on with him last night. And now this. You couldn’t resist - you have to live, right?! You ignore the tiny bit of guilt that is clinging to your conscience. "But yeah, I have to do something." "About what? What’s wrong with you?” His eyes scan your body from head to toe, for the thousandth time since you’ve known him. He catches your eyes and frowns in disapproval. He's not co-signing your dieting decision.

"Isn't it obvious?" You reply in confusion, why did you decide to even discuss it with him? It was a sensitive topic that you never discussed with anyone. "What's obvious is that you are too hard on yourself," Dean replies. "Takes one to know one." "Yeah, you told me before. Now, I'm giving the favor right back, Sweetheart. 

Okay, try this one." He lifts up another bit of pie to your lips. "How dare you use my words against me," you joke, to smooth over the awkwardness. You had no idea you would be discussing your health and body issues with Dean Winchester, but here you were. You taste pie number four.“Mmm...This one is better. Might be my favorite of the bunch.” "I'm just sayin' there are things about you to appreciate," he says. "Well, I appreciate that, but..." "No buts...There are things that I appreciate about you," he said firmly."But since you started it... You definitely have a great butt," he paused when he saw your wtf look. "If you don’t mind me saying so." "I'm strangely...not offended," you admit carefully. "Okay then, Y/N has an amazing butt. It's law." His hand slammed the library table to make it official and reaches for pie number five. "I thought you were a boob guy," slips out of your mouth before you can take it back. You had accidentally found one of his "special magazines" in one of the bathrooms once before. You said nothing, and but later that day they were gone, never to be seen in public again. "Not going to lie, I do. But when I see your body...It's like...You're into Art, right? You appreciate each painting for different reasons...Just because you like the Van Gogh, it doesn't mean you don’t enjoying Caravaggio." So he actually listened when you babbled on about Art? "You want me to go into detail about your frame? The background, the foreground, the color scheme, body placement...?" Shit, he was paying attention. You felt a bit more self-conscious, out of habit. You were so used to downplaying your body and staying away from the spotlight. You couldn't argue with Dean's "art theory" though. He went on before you could accept or deny his offer. "This wasn't because of the other night, I hope?" Oh that….You were hoping to forget what happened and was hoping he had as well. You get up quickly. "Can I get a drink before you stuff more pie down my throat? A beer maybe?" You make an attempt to change the subject as you head toward the bunker kitchen. Dean follows you. "Oh we are definitely talking about this. You don't even like beer." "Well, I'm thirsty. And someone has been drinking my wine faster than I can." "What can I say? You inspire the softer side of me." You try to ignore this comment, one of his many flirty remarks toward you. Was he staring at your "amazing butt" as you tried to get away? You definitely would be locked onto his backside if the roles were reversed. You reach for the orange juice, the one beverage outside of the consistently well-stocked beer arsenal in the Winchester fridge. Dean is so close on your heels, you bump into him when you turn around, the orange plastic juice jug hits his chest. It doesn't even faze him, he's like a dog with bone.   "...Now back to the other night..." He says. You let out an involuntary groan while you sit a glass down at the table and pour. Now that you've finally stopped moving, he catches your gaze, keeping you hostage. He would be so pissed if you were doing this to him. But usually, he would consider what you said and you had to do the same. You didn't have to like it though. "Okay, you mean when we were at The Rusty Fork and I made a fool of myself? That place? That night? That's what you want to talk about?" "I knew it bothered you more than you let on! That hipster douche was just a drunk asshole and I took care of him." Whatever Dean said or did, didn't take away the sting you still felt. That jerk had been stealing your attention all night, talking to you, laughing at each other's jokes. You thought there was a connection. "I only remember the part where he admitted to talking to me just to get to my "hotter friend" aka the much taller and skinnier, Talaya." Talaya was a sweet girl, but when you were around her, you felt invisible, or worse. She even got Dean's attention. That hurt the most though you had no rights to him, technically. The facts were that you two were getting closer, he practically made you move into the bunker since the Wraith had killed your roommate, and he openly flirted with you. It all just watered your growing crush until your feelings bloomed into scary level of intensity. The only way forward was down, the only direction you expected any romantic attachment to Dean to have. And that night had been a huge learning experience. No one should go after someone who doesn't feel the same. It was emotional suicide. "You conveniently forgot some of the facts," Dean said. "Like that other douche you exchanged numbers and social media accounts, and who knows what else with early in the evening." "You mean Barry?" "Yeah, Barry. Another bearded, hipster that you were attached to, before the other stuff went down." "Well, we there was a lot to like there," you admit, sheepishly. "He's an illustrator, he has two cats - AND his apartment might be haunted by some ghost kid. So I got us a case as well.. I was working, multi-tasking." "Honeybunch, you were working it alright. And I had a front row seat." If you didn’t know better, you would think Dean was...jealous?! You had nearly forgotten about Barry, his sweetness was overshadowed by later events. Plus, you thought he was just being nice, nothing more. "We just played pool," you say defensively. "And he lost because he was so distracted by you." "First of all, he was just sucked at pool. And wait - how did you see everything? You were busy with Talaya." "Don't you know by now that I always keep my eyes on you? Nothing's going to happen to you on my watch." "Well, I wasn't in danger and you were pretty busy." Why was he challenging your memories, what was his point? "I don't trust anyone around you, especially at a bar. And Talaya - We drank and we talked. What else did you see?" It had been simple just minutes ago. Jerk Douche pretending to be interested in you but really wanting to meet Talaya. Jerk Douche calling Talaya "the hot one," to your utter embarrassment. Later, Dean left the bar with Talaya.  Barry had been long gone and forgotten by then and you got out of there as fast as you could and into your own car. "You left with her!" You considered that your mike-drop and walked to the tv room, "Her friend that does Uber picked her up. She so was wasted. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. When I came back you were gone. How did you get pass me?" "I went out the back way." You sat your glass on the coffee table, and the two of you sat on the brown leather sofa that was more comfortable than it looked. "I called you! I even called Sam." Shit. He had called you. You didn't know until the next morning. You had been too embarrassed to bring it up. "I came home and saw you were in bed, got outta my clothes, and binge-watched Luke Cage until 4 in the morning." "Good show choice," you approved. You were a little distracted. The visual of Dean stripping off his clothes was fighting for attention. "So Dean...What are you trying to tell me?" "What I'm saying is don't feel bad, because of one fucker who doesn't deserve you anyway." "Thank you. That's very sweet." And you mean it, he's so serious and earnest about it, you accepted his compliment, for once. It seemed important to him. "Also, Confession Time: I'm doing it for myself. Heart problems run in my family and losing the weight helps. You know being around you guys is enough of a health risk!" "True that...So it's not about Bearded Douche? \”

“Nope. fuck him.” “Good. If that's what you want. I'll support it. I'm proud of you." “So you support me fucking him?” you play dumb. “Fuck no. I support your thing - your diet thingie. I want you to be around a long time.” You beam in the light of Dean's encouragement. There was one more thing that was bothering you though. "So who deserves me? I'm almost afraid of your answer!" He turns his body towards you. He took a moment to think and then said: "No one. “Ouch!” “No, silly. I mean you’re up here…” He lifted his hand in the air, above his head. “So I’m some cold bitch who’s destined to be alone?” “Jesus, will you stop looking for something negative, Woman?! The space between you gets smaller as he moves a few inches closer. “Look, the guy who always looks out for you….The guy who likes you right now, the way you are...The guy sitting here who wants to do some taste-testing on your lips...down your neck... travel  to some other places, many other places. Maybe you can give him a shot?" You feel thoroughly chastised, and it is a good thing in this case. "Well, that guy should come over here so we can work this out." Then he's leaning into you, no more space between the two of you. It’s like a light switch went from dim to full light, bright, electric energy. He brings a hand to your back, works up to the nape of your neck, messages the sensitive skin there. His other hand slowly rubs your thigh. "How will you support me? I don't need the food police, okay?" You enjoy the delaying him a bit more. "Nah, Sam is good with the healthy eating. Now, me....Cardio is good for the heart, right?" "I believe so.” Your thinking is fuzzy, nothing insightful can get through now. "I'm sure I can get your heart rate up." "Show me," you whisper into his waiting lips as they hover over your own. "You sure you ready? I don't want you to quit on me, when things get nice and hard, and deep..." "I’m all in." You barely know what you’re saying anymore. "It's better if I show you." He demonstrates in the most convincing way possible. The kiss began slow and sensual, but only heightens your mutual thirst and hunger. "Aren't we skipping a few steps here?" You weakly protest between smooches. "We can stop now..." "No!" You said louder than you intended to... He smiles into your mouth, lips still attached to yours. Now I can teach you the rest of my workout program. We have to get these knees up first..." THE END.

@trexrambling @roxyspearing @babypieandwhiskey @hot-craving@mango-blogs @jensenhandsome @cravingrichonne

[braidsfanfiction-blog]

Wanna Bite (v.2)

sorry for the big-ass titlecard!

Characters: Dean Winchester & WOC!Reader Summary: The reader is going on a diet and Dean wants to make sure she’s okay. Works for Plus-sized reader (like myself lol), but really we are pressured into body insecurities? Wordcount: 2100-ish Warnings and Ratings: Fluffy, romantic flirting, sexy talk; Body insecurity, little bit of angst A/N:  I made a few changes to my racially-neutral version. This was fun to write. Would love to hear your feedback - pushing myself to finish and share more of my SPN story ideas.

Happy Reading, shoetingstar*

**** "Wanna bite?" Dean's voice nearly echoed through the quiet of the Bunker Library. He holds out a fork full of pumpkin pie to your mouth, playfully teasing you with the creamy harvest orange creation, daring you to give in. You want a taste of something alright, but he's not offering that just now. You do get a tiny thrill from his little wicked smile, as you make him wait. "Nope. I'm on a diet," you announce. "Since when? Come on, I need your opinion." Dean had bought 6 different pumpkin pies, including Patti Labelle's brand, for taste testing. "Plus, I told you where I'm from we eat Sweet Potato Pie." But you can't bring yourself to break his Pie-loving heart. You open you mouth for Dean and catch the pie on your tongue. "Mmm...I give pie number three 4 stars outta 5...I know, you probably can't tell..." He must be surprised in some part because of the pizza you chowed down on with him last night. And now this. You couldn’t resist - you have to live, right?! You ignore the tiny bit of guilt that is clinging to your conscience. "But yeah, I have to do something." "About what? What’s wrong with you?” His eyes scan your body from head to toe, for the thousandth time since you’ve known him. He catches your eyes and frowns in disapproval. He's not co-signing your dieting decision.

"Isn't it obvious?" You reply in confusion, why did you decide to even discuss it with him? It was a sensitive topic that you never discussed with anyone.

"What's obvious is that you are too hard on yourself," Dean replies. "Takes one to know one." "Yeah, you told me before. Now, I'm giving the favor right back, Sweetheart. Okay, try this one." He lifts up another bit of pie to your lips. "How dare you use my words against me," you joke, to smooth over the awkwardness. You had no idea you would be discussing your health and body issues with Dean Winchester, but here you were. You taste pie number four.“Mmm...This one is better. Might be my favorite of the bunch.” "I'm just sayin' there are things about you to appreciate," he says. "Well, I appreciate that, but..." "No buts...There are things that I appreciate about you," he said firmly."But since you started it... You definitely have a great butt," he paused when he saw your wtf look. "If you don’t mind me saying so." "I'm strangely...not offended," you admit carefully. "Okay then, Y/N has an amazing butt. It's law." His hand slammed the library table to make it official and reaches for pie number five. "I thought you were a boob guy," slips out of your mouth before you can take it back. You had accidentally found one of his "special magazines" in one of the bathrooms once before. You said nothing, and but later that day they were gone, never to be seen in public again. "Not going to lie, I do. But when I see your body...It's like...You're into Art, right? You appreciate each painting for different reasons...Just because you like the Van Gogh, it doesn't mean you don’t enjoying Caravaggio." So he actually listened when you babbled on about Art? "You want me to go into detail about your frame? The background, the foreground, the color scheme, body placement...?" Shit, he was paying attention. You felt a bit more self-conscious, out of habit. You were so used to downplaying your body and staying away from the spotlight. You couldn't argue with Dean's "art theory" though. He went on before you could accept or deny his offer. "This wasn't because of the other night, I hope?" Oh that….You were hoping to forget what happened and was hoping he had as well. You get up quickly. "Can I get a drink before you stuff more pie down my throat? A beer maybe?" You make an attempt to change the subject as you head toward the bunker kitchen. Dean follows you. "Oh we are definitely talking about this. You don't even like beer." "Well, I'm thirsty. And someone has been drinking my wine faster than I can." "What can I say? You inspire the softer side of me." You try to ignore this comment, one of his many flirty remarks toward you. Was he staring at your "amazing butt" as you tried to get away? You definitely would be locked onto his backside if the roles were reversed. You reach for the orange juice, the one beverage outside of the consistently well-stocked beer arsenal in the Winchester fridge. Dean is so close on your heels, you bump into him when you turn around, the orange plastic juice jug hits his chest. It doesn't even faze him, he's like a dog with bone.   "...Now back to the other night..." He says. You let out an involuntary groan while you sit a glass down at the table and pour. Now that you've finally stopped moving, he catches your gaze, keeping you hostage. He would be so pissed if you were doing this to him. But usually, he would consider what you said and you had to do the same. You didn't have to like it though. "Okay, you mean when we were at The Rusty Fork and I made a fool of myself? That place? That night? That's what you want to talk about?" "I knew it bothered you more than you let on! That hipster douche was just a drunk asshole and I took care of him." Whatever Dean said or did, didn't take away the sting you still felt. That jerk had been stealing your attention all night, talking to you, laughing at each other's jokes. You thought there was a connection. "I only remember the part where he admitted to talking to me just to get to my "hotter friend" aka the much taller and skinnier, Talaya." Talaya was a sweet girl, but when you were around her, you felt invisible, or worse. She even got Dean's attention. That hurt the most though you had no rights to him, technically. The facts were that you two were getting closer, he practically made you move into the bunker since the Wraith had killed your roommate, and he openly flirted with you. It all just watered your growing crush until your feelings bloomed into scary level of intensity. The only way forward was down, the only direction you expected any romantic attachment to Dean to have. And that night had been a huge learning experience. No one should go after someone who doesn't feel the same. It was emotional suicide. "You conveniently forgot some of the facts," Dean said. "Like that other douche you exchanged numbers and social media accounts, and who knows what else with early in the evening." "You mean Barry?" "Yeah, Barry. Another bearded, hipster that you were attached to, before the other stuff went down." "Well, we there was a lot to like there," you admit, sheepishly. You could feel yourself blushing, if you were paler Dean would see it too. "He's an illustrator, he has two cats - AND his apartment might be haunted by some ghost kid. So I got us a case as well.. I was working, multi-tasking." "Honeybunch, you were working it alright. And I had a front row seat." If you didn’t know better, you would think Dean was...jealous?! You had nearly forgotten about Barry, his sweetness was overshadowed by later events. Plus, you thought he was just being nice, nothing more. "We just played pool," you say defensively. "And he lost because he was so distracted by you." "First of all, he was just sucked at pool. And wait - how did you see everything? You were busy with Talaya." "Don't you know by now that I always keep my eyes on you? Nothing's going to happen to you on my watch." "Well, I wasn't in danger and you were pretty busy." Why was he challenging your memories, what was his point? "I don't trust anyone around you, especially at a bar. And Talaya - We drank and we talked. What else did you see?" It had been simple just minutes ago. Jerk Douche pretending to be interested in you but really wanting to meet Talaya. Jerk Douche calling Talaya "the hot one," to your utter embarrassment. Later, Dean left the bar with Talaya.  Barry had been long gone and forgotten by then and you got out of there as fast as you could and into your own car. "You left with her!" You considered that your mike-drop and walked to the tv room, "Her friend that does Uber picked her up. She so was wasted. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. When I came back you were gone. How did you get pass me?" "I went out the back way." You sat your glass on the coffee table, and the two of you sat on the brown leather sofa that was more comfortable than it looked. "I called you! I even called Sam." Shit. He had called you. You didn't know until the next morning. You had been too embarrassed to bring it up. "I came home and saw you were in bed, got outta my clothes, and binge-watched Luke Cage until 4 in the morning." "Good show choice," you approved. You were a little distracted. The visual of Dean stripping off his clothes was fighting for attention. "So Dean...What are you trying to tell me?" "What I'm saying is don't feel bad, because of one fucker who doesn't deserve you anyway." "Thank you. That's very sweet." And you mean it, he's so serious and earnest about it, you accepted his compliment, for once. It seemed important to him. "Also, Confession Time: I'm doing it for myself. Heart problems run in my family and losing the weight helps. You know being around you guys is enough of a health risk!" "True that...So it's not about Bearded Douche?”

“Nope. fuck him.” “Good. If that's what you want. I'll support it. I'm proud of you." “So you support me fucking him?” you play dumb. “Fuck no. I support your thing - your diet thingie. I want you to be around a long time.” You beam in the light of Dean's encouragement. There was one more thing that was bothering you though. "So who deserves me? I'm almost afraid of your answer!" He turns his body towards you. He took a moment to think and then said: "No one. “Ouch!” “No, silly. I mean you’re up here…” He lifted his hand in the air, above his head. “So I’m some cold bitch who’s destined to be alone?” “Jesus, will you stop looking for something negative, Woman?! The space between you gets smaller as he moves a few inches closer. “Look, the guy who always looks out for you….The guy who likes you right now, the way you are...The guy sitting here who wants to do some taste-testing on your lips...down your neck... travel  to some other places, many other places. Maybe you can give him a shot?" You feel thoroughly chastised, and it is a good thing in this case. "Well, that guy should come over here so we can work this out." Then he's leaning into you, no more space between the two of you. It’s like a light switch went from dim to full light, bright, electric energy. He brings a hand to your back, works up to the nape of your neck, messages the sensitive skin there. His other hand slowly rubs your thigh. "How will you support me? I don't need the food police, okay?" You enjoy the delaying him a bit more. "Nah, Sam is good with the healthy eating. Now, me....Cardio is good for the heart, right?" "I believe so.” Your thinking is fuzzy, nothing insightful can get through now. "I'm sure I can get your heart rate up." "Show me," you whisper into his waiting lips as they hover over your own. "You sure you ready? I don't want you to quit on me, when things get nice and hard, and deep..." "I’m all in." You barely know what you’re saying anymore. "It's better if I show you." He demonstrates in the most convincing way possible. The kiss began slow and sensual, but only heightens your mutual thirst and hunger. "Aren't we skipping a few steps here?" You weakly protest between smooches. "We can stop now..." "No!" You said louder than you intended to... He smiles into your mouth, lips still attached to yours. Now I can teach you the rest of my workout program. We have to get these knees up first..." THE END.

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

Guys!!! I got myself a Hannigram t-shirt for Christmas!!! I was supposed to get it earlier in the year to celebrate committing to learning a new self-care/mental health tool, but I felt like I didn't deserve it so I chickened out.

!!!!!!

This is a big deal for me in celebrating my autistic self, cos I learned years ago that no one wanted to hear about my special interests!!! This is good. I am happy. <3

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

!!!!!!! Loti appreciation detected, Loti appreciation detected !!!!!

Seriously though I loved all of them by the end. I want our bi poet Turan to become published and appreciated and not constantly mocked for his poetry, because his recital to the freaky big queen was not deserving of that. I also want him to find someone he can be as romantic as possible with and it be mutual.

I want Loti to open her bar and spend her life with Kai or go on some other big adventure with Humility and attack awful men with her knife held in her teeth (oh my god?? She's so cool?? Help? My mother doesn't understand and I NEED PEOPLE TO. She's feral and sweet and tough and scary, and it's just so cool how competent she is with that knife. I'm having a case of "do I want her or do I want to be her".)

I want Nathaniel Blaster to always feel that he belongs and has a home and is loved. I want him to learn more about chemistry and hone his skills, and maybe one day he'll find about his father, but maybe he won't and it won't matter, because he's got what he needs right here. He'll keep his curiosity and enthusiasm and wonderful warmth for the world, and make things brighter.

I want Humility to keep using fake moustaches because I love it, and also to Fuck The Patriarchy in academia and beyond (and build a second Nautilus; I think the Navy are going to need her, and that's an amazing opportunity that will let her back on the Original Nautilus at some point, I think).

I don't know what to do. Nautilus has taken over my brain. I reblog the same posts again and again. I read the same fics over and over. I will be going into my second rewatch as soon as I can (which is probably in 2 days time). I haven't had a hyperfixation be this strong in a small fandom in so long and I believe my friends are kinda sick of me constantly talking their ears off about it. I need ppl to talk to about this. I haven't gone a day without telling atleast one person how badly I need it to have second season. Most of all I miss the love of my life loti.

(That rewtach might be happening sooner than I expected).

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

I'm back on Nautilus S1 E5! Ohhhh I LIKE Humility now, she gave herself a moustache and mens hair cut and a guy wardrobe and got herself into university studying maths and engineering??? Solved a really difficult mathematical problem?? Ran away and lived here best life? So cool! I love her! I want a gay Mulan and Shang situation to happen while she's in uni with another student.

She looks so cute with her lil moustache agh

(Loti once agains shows up, this time with her fiercest look since the orange skirt. Long grey hair DOWN and introducing herself as "The devil as a woman"??? I ship the two of them now, give me fanfiction. They resent each other and they're trapped on a submarine, please tell me the fic writers have done something or I'LL have to do it myself and I have no idea how to, that's terrifying.)

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

Never heard of The Terror before and now it's all over my dash, so I assumed it just came out??? It's brand new???

It's Six Years Old???????????

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

I'm watching Nautilus episode 1 cos I'm sick, and it's great

You hate the East India Trading Company/imperialism/colonialism/racism? So do they!

So many BIPOC characters

The Main Dude is an Indian guy who is an engineering whizz and uses it to free himself and others from a penal colony/slave camp

It's like pirates but steampunk

some really beautiful shots of the Nautilus in the ocean

have I mentioned I hate the British Empire (it's reminding me TINY bit of The Order:1886 which gets less love than it should tbh)

there's a really cool French lady with an amazing accent, super assertive, can and probably will kill you if she has to, ugh I'm so gay for her she's just so cool

Lottie ilu you're so cool

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

why am I seeing this after someone suggests i go to siciliy

the average alternative dirtbag sicilian guy has one ear piercing. the average alternative dirtbag roman guy has three. it stands to reason that the average alternative dirtbag neapolitan guy would have two

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

Me, a child: Behold! I shall commence Hoarding All The Genders.

Them: okay sure I guess encouraging this child to conform to two gender norms at the same time won't encourage anything we find inconvenient later

Me, a slightly older child: So I think it's mean and unfair to say I can't marry whoever I want if we both love each other.

Them: no wtf HOW DARE YOU THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX

Me: Also I'm genderbendy

Them: *bigotry intensifies*

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

Artemis help me, I'm responsible for too many of the posts in the Loti Nautilus tag

[sad-wet-cat-hannibal]

Imagine if when you die you have to pay a monthly subscription fee to stay dead.