#and then insisting theres no other way and this can never change

[rxttenfish]

i think we do need to talk about how neglecting cats is seen as just a normal way to take care of them.

i wont lie, i kinda feel the same way about "cat distribution system" as i do about jokes about hamsters dying in horrific ways.

[in1-nutshell]

HELLO‼️ I hope you are safe and well with the hurricane and I'm so glad that I'm able to finally send a request so here it is‼️

There's not many rescue bots oneshots and I want to change that, so in Rescue bots theres human skater buddy with their head in the clouds leading them to getting into trouble frequently (like nearly getting hit by a car or just getting into the crossfire of the rescue bots shenanigans) and it's like to a point where the whole when they are out on a mission have to keep a spare eye/optic out for the little human‼️

I hope you'll be able to get to this before it's deleted or whatever, but still, I can't wait to see what you come up with for this concept. Thanks, and have a good day/night‼️

Introducing Danger magnet Buddy! love this concept!

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy the skater and a danger magnet

SFW, Platonic, Human Reader

RB

The Burns family had known about Buddy’s little quirks for years.

They were after all good friends with Cody throughout their childhood.

The kid had their head up in the clouds or down with their skates.

Luckily, Cody always seemed to find ways to get them back down to Earth.

Too bad there wasn’t much he could do about their terrible luck with dangerous situations.

They never mean to be in these situations, they just happen when they’re around.

It took a while for the Burns to finally understand it wasn’t their fault.

It was a small island, one was bound to get stuck in the crossfire at some point.

When the Bots arrived, Cody made sure to debrief them a bit about his friend’s tendencies.

Heatwave is convinced that Buddy is doing it for attention.

There is now way someone can be THAT unlucky.

Not even on this island.

Kade and him have little talks about Buddy being a ‘danger magnet.’

Kade: “You think they are doing it for attention?” Heatwave: “Isn’t it obvious? There’s no way they aren’t doing it for any other reason.” Kade chuckles. Kade: “We used to think that too… but after a few years of seeing their little dumb face around, you kinda start believing it.” Heatwave: “What do you mean?” Kade: “There a bit of a danger magnet.” Heatwave: “Why is that a magnet you have!?”

He does start believing the existence of ‘the danger magnet’ after a few missions where Buddy just showed up randomly.

Heatwave hates to see Buddy in the line of fire, especially when they have no control over it.

Always reminds his team to keep an extra optic out for the little skater.

Speaking of skates, Heatwave actually likes seeing Buddy skate around the bunker.

Especially when they show off some of their tricks.

Buddy is a bit oblivious to why Heatwave is so insistent to them staying with Cody on com job.

Chase and Boulder are confused.

Why does Buddy go to these dangerous places?

They aren’t durable enough to be so close to the danger.

Chase has a separate file on all of Buddy’s incidents.

Chief Burns: “Chase? You, okay?” Chase is typing on a data pad. Chase: “I am simply reporting Buddy’s latest incident on today’s rescue. Today they were stuck in the same tree as Mister Pettypaws… I still wonder how they got up there with their skates…” Chief Burns: “Oh, don’t think too hard about that Chase. That’s just how Buddy is.” Chase: “Do they like danger?” Chief Burns: “No, they just have a bad record of being in places at the wrong time.” Chase: “… I can try to clean their record if you allow me access to them.”

Boulder takes a more direct approach and asks Buddy why they keep going towards danger.

Buddy just shrugs and goes back to their skates.

The green mech decides to ask the others about Buddy’s behavior instead.

Boulder: “Is something wrong with them?” Graham: “Nothing’s wrong with them Boulder.” Boulder: “Then how come they always seem to be near our dangerous missions? Even Cody doesn’t do that too often.” Graham: “When you’ve known them as long as we have, you start believing the phrase ‘wrong place and the wrong time.’ We can’t exactly explain it, but the best we can do is look out for them. No one can control what happens outside Boulder.” Boulder: “Hmm… I guess you’re right.” Later… Chase and Boulder look at their creation with pride. Buddy is wrapped head to toe with bubble wrap. Buddy: “How am I gonna skate like this?” Chase: “Sacrifices must be made Buddy.”

The pair find Buddy’s skating to be interesting and a bit relaxing… as long as Buddy has the proper safety equipment on them.

 Buddy doesn’t like the ‘creative’ ways the bots are trying to keep them ‘safe’, but the thought is what counts.

Blades, unlike the others, fully understands the phrase ‘wrong place, wrong time.’

But he also believes an outside force is making Buddy go to these dangerous places.

Already has a bulletin board with the red string trying to figure out what could be making the little skater go to these places.

Blades shows the board to the rest of the bots. Blades: “I’m telling you guys! There’s a connection somewhere!” Heatwave: “… How long have you been working on this?” Blades: “Not important.” Chase: “Blades, is it highly unlikely that something is making Buddy do these things.” Blades: “But if you see what happened last month and 5 months ago—” Boulder: “Blades, when was the last time you recharged?” Blades: “Not important.” Heatwave: “I’m calling Dani.” Blades: "Wait don’t!”

He just doesn’t want Buddy to get hurt by being in places they aren’t supposed to be.

Blades has a separate med kit in his subspace labeled ‘Buddy’s’.

The bot loves Buddy’s skates and has already asked Doc Greene if he could make a pair for him.

Heatwave has tried to stop him from getting these skates too many times to count.

He isn’t known for being the best with balance.

Buddy enjoys Blades making little videos and changing music while they skate around.

[uncannydevotion]

So I was going through this account and your old account (loved you and your writing since foreverr), and I kind of saw how Liu/Sully are characterized as overprotective (I don’t know if that’s the proper term or if I’m even reading the character right lmao), but like…lowkey what would happen if theres a relationship and they become too suffocating and the s/o tries to break it off? Would they crash out? 😭 (in a possible yandere way?)

squeezing you affectionately i wasnt gonna write today i really wasnt but but but this got sent in and i just. here. here. take this.

warnings: written in one sitting and not proofread, yandere content, unhealthy relationships, dependency, stalking, overprotective behavior, behavior that can be considered obsessive, sully points a gun at you im sorry, implied kidnapping.

wc: 1.4k words.

Liu wasn't a bad guy.

You knew this intimately. Liu was far from a horrible guy. From the moment you met him, he was nothing but kind and understanding. He has his flaws, sure, but so does every other person. And those flaws never took away from how... nice he was.

It was easy falling in love with him, really. He never tried forcing anything on you, he always listened, he remembered everything you told him, even things that most people would consider minor. Honestly, you were shocked to learn that he wasn't already dating someone.

And Sully... well, he's not as nice as Liu.

It took you time to get used to him when he introduced himself to you. Unlike Liu, Sully didn't seem to really... care about people. He was selfish, and was the type to just do things without thinking much about how it could harm others. He never actively tried hurting others, but he never cared if he did either.

So when you found yourself falling in love with Sully as well, it left you feeling a bit... guilty, to be honest. Not only because Sully was... well... Sully, but also because you were already in love with Liu, so isn't it weird being in love with someone else too? But it didn't feel wrong loving them both.

To be honest, when you did start dating them, nothing changed. Liu was as kind as ever, if not a bit more openly affectionate, and Sully was still pretty mean at times, but he was less mean when you were around so... you'll take what you can get.

But it was perfect. You, and your two boyfriends in one body.

When Liu started becoming protective, you hadn't thought much of it. He'd freak out a bit over some small injuries you'd get. Small burns when you'd cook, the occasional time you'd trip over yourself and hit the ground. It was cute, honestly.

You understood that due to his past, he was deeply terrified of losing people. It's a fear of his that you tried your best to help him through, and it wasn't one that you ever thought could get out of hand.

Sure, Sully wouldn't sometimes stare at you for a few moments too long before sighing and saying something like, 'We should just lock you up.' but... he's always had a weird sense of humor, so you never let it get to you.

But... the longer you dated them, the more... suffocating they'd started to become. With Liu, if you were out and didn't update him on your wellbeing every few hours, he'd call you until you answered. He used to not stay the night all that often, but now he insists on staying with you every night, to ensure your safety.

If you went out with friends, he'd basically interrogate you about them. Who are they? Where do they work? How did you meet? Would you trust them to keep you safe? How do you know you can trust them?

And Sully wasn't any better. He would basically stalk you whenever you went out, and he wasn't shy about it either. Whenever you'd try talking to him about it, he'd just shrug and say something along the lines of, 'I'm just making sure you don't die.'

You're fairly certain he's even gone through your phone a few times, but you never brought it up because you didn't want to accuse him, either of them, of something if they didn't do it.

It hurt you to even have this conversation with them, but enough was enough.

"We should break up."

The words sounded wrong, but you refused to swallow them. Your heart was racing and you felt sick but you knew this was for the best. They were far too protective, and Liu seemed unhealthily dependent on you at times. Like he'd simply stop functioning if you disappeared. He needed help, help that you can't give him.

There's an expression of confusion, followed quickly by something akin to anguish when he registers your words. Liu seemed to struggle to speak for a moment, lips opening and closing for a few moments before he finally manages a small, "Why?"

And you explained it to him. You told him about how his protective behavior was starting to feel suffocating, how your friends were starting to distance themselves from you because he (of which you can only assume to be Sully) always glares at them whenever they're around, how your privacy felt nonexistent most days with them around.

It almost seemed as if he was going to accept that this was happening, but then there was a shift. His expression smoothed out for a moment before he looked at you like you were the crazy one here.

"No."

And it didn't take a genius for you to realize you were speaking with Sully now, from the way he seemed completely apathetic to your concerns.

"No? You can't just say no to someone breaking up with you, that's not how this works."

But your words didn't seem to reach him. That, or he was just choosing to ignore him because he just sweetly smiles in such a way that it makes your blood run cold, "I said no, angel." And his usual affectionate name for you sounding mocking rather than loving, something that put you on edge.

In the time that you've known Sully, you've never felt in danger around him. He went out of his way to make you feel comfortable, honestly, but now... now, you're reminded that this man wouldn't hesitate to kill another. What's stopping him from killing you?

"...You should leave. Now, please."

But Sully didn't move. He just stared, and it felt like he was looking right into your very soul, and it made you feel really sick.

"Fine, if you aren't going to leave, then I will," You huff, but you couldn't even stand up before he was pushing you back down on the couch, practically straddling you, and you could feel cool metal pressing against your forehead.

He... he just pulled a fucking gun on you. A mixture of shock and betrayal outweighs any fear you felt as you look up at Sully, half expecting him to just shoot you.

But he'd never do that, no.

Sully would never hurt you. Could never hurt you. He just needs you to behave, that's all.

"Don't look so distraught," He coos, his free hand coming up to lovingly cup your cheek and wipe away tears you hadn't realized were falling, "You know I can't let you leave. Liu needs you," He pauses, a look of consideration before he softly admits, "I need you."

The admission would've been romantic. He'd never really verbally expressed his love for you before, but now it just... it makes you feel wrong.

"We can just consider this a lover's quarrel, yeah? Make up and move on,"

It didn't seem like Sully had any plans on listening to a single word from your mouth unless it's something he wanted to hear, but you shake your head nonetheless, "I don't want to 'make up and move on'. You're aiming a fucking gun at me for crying out loud! How can I possibly move on from that?!"

And he rolls his eyes at your words, as if you were being dramatic over something you had every right to be angry about. It almost seemed as if he wanted to say something, but his gaze unfocused, and when he blinked, that annoyance was gone.

Instead, he looked mortified, lowering the gun against your head.

And for a moment, you felt a flicker of hope. If you can't convince Sully to let you leave, then surely you can convince Liu, right?

But he didn't pull the gun away. He wasn't aiming it at you, but it was there, and that told you everything you needed to know. Liu wasn't going to let you leave either.

"I'm sorry," He whispers over and over again, and there's tears in his eyes as he rests his forehead against your shoulder. As if forcing you to stay with him was painful to him.

And maybe it was, but...

This world is simply far too dangerous. How is he supposed to keep you safe when you want to go out all the time? It's... it's for the best, he thinks, to take you away. Somewhere where no one can find you, that way you'll be safe. The thought makes Liu sick, guilt eating at him, but... nothing can take you from him.

He and Sully will keep you safe, always. Even if you hate them for it.

[bichletmepickaname]

I am still mad about the fact Giopara League Viktor and Blizcrank are being retconned PELASE I LOVE JAYCE GIOPARA SO MUCH I MIGHT LOVE HIM MORE THAN ARCANE JAYCE

OMFG DONT GET ME STARTED.

I was mad that a lot of Giopara’s original characteristics didn’t make it into arcane because he is one of my all time favourite characters. But I was able to get over it because I found Talis’s character interesting for other reasons, even if I loved Giopara a hell of a lot more. Also because I was under the impression that arcane wasn’t going to be canon to league lore. I crashed out after finding out about the re write.

With Viktor it’s a little different in season one. I believed there was still a lot of room for his MACHINE herald arc. and he kept alot of his personality from league. And I thought they weren’t allows to fundamentally change a character so much from the original material. I was proven disgustingly wrong with each act we got till act 3. He wasn’t a machine herald. He didn’t cut off his arm and replace it with one he made himself. He was more of a mutant. And near the end he didn’t care if people wanted to be evolved or not he was going to do it, unlike Viktor in league. Again I wouldn’t mind this if arcane wasn’t becoming the new canon.

The way the did Viktor and Jayce’s relationship is portrayed in arcane is very basic to me. Arcane adds layers to all the relationship that league didn’t. Except for Viktor and Jayce’s friendship. Viktor and Jayce’s friendship was complex in league because neither fully liked each other(or atleast wouldn’t admit it to eachother), But they never were able to fully hate each other either. They were two outcasts who didn’t know how to act with other people. Jayce was an asshole who couldn’t even give pity to the thought that others would take a little more time to understand things than him, choosing to believe everyone was just stupid but he was aware that he was a dick. Viktor was someone who’s thinking no one could understand his thinking, leading them to dismiss it. But Viktor and Jayce were both intelligent, they were able to ignore each others flaws to work together. Before Viktor pushed it too far. What makes their relationship particularly interesting is that even when they become enemies they don’t really hate each other. In arcane Jayce and Viktor are friends, sure there’s the odd conflict but it’s clear that they are friends there close. They enjoy eachother company. And their enemy arc(their whole thing in league) is kinda thrown out the window. Theres no fight Viktor just leaves. Jayve doesn’t attack Viktor because we can see Viktor is doing something morally dubious. In league Jayce shows up at Viktors lab to get his crystals back, he see’s what he thinks is Viktor killing people for experiments and apologizes to Viktor for being an ass but insists that this wasn’t what Viktor wants. Then Viktor orders the bots to kill Jayce so Jayce blows up Viktor’s lab killing everyone Viktor was trying to save. There were so many layers to that scene. But in arcane Jayce gets told by mage Viktor to kill him but also save him? So he blasts a while in Viktor’s chest, we know he’s doing it for the greater good, but I still don’t know why he shot Viktor if he promised he would save him? I do enjoy Jayce in Viktor in arcane but league is just arguably more interesting. This wouldn’t be a big deal if ARCANE WASN’T BECOMING CANON.

Blitz crank particularly pisses me off, he isn’t in arcane AT ALL not even w mentioned, and his whole back story doesn’t even happen. Viktor doesn’t create him in arcane because he’s to focused on the HEXCORE. Blitzcrank being written out of the story while characters from arcane are making into league just rubs me the wrong way. I’ve always loved blitzcrank and I’ve been waiting for him to come into arcane forever. The fact that he doesn’t but arcane is becoming canon is worrying me.

Long story short I think arcane would have been better if it never existed/hj

[zerodaytesttape]

some andre and cal hcs because i luv them and people like these :}

- When they argue, it’s always Cal who storms off first. Not because he’s mad, but because he’s had enough of the silence. Andre will always stay behind, he doesn't often follow after Cal, knowing that he will come back eventually, like he always does.

- Cal’s always fidgeting with something. A broken pen, a piece of paper, the zipper on his hoodie. He can’t stand still. Sometimes Andre finds it oddly comforting, like it means he’s still here, still human. And other times he wants to rip whatever Cal has in his hands because the noise is too annoying. There's no in-between

- Andre gets unreasonably upset when people touch his hair. He’s not even sure why. Cal is constantly messing with it anyways just to see Andre’s reaction.

- Cal has an obsession with collecting old, broken things. It's mostly electronics or random gadgets that he swears he can fix. Andre thinks it’s dumb, but he’s caught looking through the pile more than once, just because there’s something cool about all the messed-up parts

- Cal gets obsessive about fixing things that are already broken, and it drives Andre crazy. He’ll spend hours on things that should just be thrown away, and Andre will stand by, watching him, knowing it’s just another way Cal tries to fix himself too

- Andre would never admit it, but he’s terrified of Cal getting too far gone, of him slipping into a place where he can’t reach him. Every time Cal gets that faraway look in his eyes, Andre’s chest tightens, knowing he’s losing him more with every day that passes

- Cal’s hands are always shaking. Not super visibly, but if someone watches closely, they can see it when he’s thinking too hard. Andre notices it, and it makes him wonder if Cal even knows how often he does it

- They’ve both gotten into fights with random kids at school, but it’s always Cal who ends up getting more attention for it. Andre stays quiet, the tension in his shoulders enough to say everything without a single word. Cal has one once but doesn't get in fights as often, Andre hasn't one even ONE fight, but he's always pushing and scrapping with people, not often more than that. It's never his fault or his choice.

- Cal’s laugh is way too loud and so god damn heard because he's always giggling at something, but it never sounds real. It’s like he’s forcing it because he has to, even when it doesn’t make sense. Andre’s laugh is quieter, more hesitant, like he’s waiting for the other person to tell him it’s okay to laugh. Cal is always out-of-it, it just sounds like he's laughing for the sake of making noise and being in the moment.

- Whenever they go out, Andre will buy snacks, and Cal will eat them all before Andre even has a chance to get a bite. It’s always Cal who insists on "sharing," but ends up finishing everything before Andre even gets close. Andre turns around for one second, and Cal has snatched up literally everything. Theres the RARE occasion where Cal will buy something with some loose change he found and feed it to Andre like he's a toddler, but that's not often. Cal has money! He just doesn't use it unless its something he doesn't need

[uhhhitsme]

24, 29 and 32 Curt?

-24- best memory

i think he would tell himself its the berlin mission in 1956. i haven't nailed down any of the details for what went on DURING the mission exactly, but it would entail owen doing something crazy stupid for curt, and the two of them emerging victorious and covered in blood and more in love than ever. it solidified to him the idea that together, they're unstoppable, and eased some of curt's anxiety about whether or not the ocean of feelings curt has for owen is matched.

but really, it was something from earlier in their relationship---june of 1954. owen had gotten himself decently hurt on a mission---not serious enough that curt was afraid for him, but serious enough that it couldn't be ignored. curt insisted on patching owen up, and unlike every other time curt has had to take care of him, owen let him do it without a fight. and there was this moment where curt looked up from his work, halfway through a passionate speech about why it was essential that he keep a bottle of whiskey and a bag of chips in his medkit, and caught owen looking at him with eyes full of light. and for a moment, he was overwhelmed with the knowledge that owen had trusted him with this. trusted curt to take care of him. let curt see him at his most vulnerable.

after, when they went to bed. owen kissed him in the gentle, comforting way that he typically reserved for when curt was hurt, or when thought curt was too out of it to notice. curt read him to sleep, and then stayed up for hours---heart bursting with an emotion so indescribable, so impossible it made his head spin. the kind of feeling you get falling.

-29- quirks and personal habits

curt paces a LOT. not just when he's stressed---literally whenever he feels too much about anything, happy or frustrated or thinking about owen. when he can't pace, he bounces his leg or clasps his hands together so tight you can see the tension running through his arms.

during the winter, he gets dry lips, and he never can stop himself from picking them. he refuses to use lip balm (partially because of toxic masculinity and partially because he hates how it feels).

he has really poor volume control and often doesn't realise when he's being too loud (which made stealth training hell for him when he first started out.) he also gets really really loud when he's excited/afraid.

he sings to himself to get earworms out of his head. depending on the song, it either drives owen bananas or is ridiculously endearing

he listens to a lot of radio, even if he doesn't particularly enjoy it.

he hates quiet, and avoids his apartment like the plague

he hasnt changed the hair product he uses since he was recommended it by a girlfriend in high school

-32- toxic traits

massive inferiority complex that results in him doing very inadvisable things for the sake of trying to prove his own worth

very easily jealous---falls under the whole inferiority complex thing a little, but he can get really bitter when he sees others praised, especially in areas he takes pride in (like spying)

he's constantly trying to present this sort of hypermasculine effortless suave persona, and as a result, can be a dismissive asshole when he thinks he's letting too much of his emotion show

on that note, he doesn't handle vulnerability well. like At All. which, tbf, neither does owen

oftentimes abrasive and just a little bit self-centered, sometimes gets way too caught up in his own shit to pay attention to others needs (although he tries really, really hard with owen)

i feel like theres a word for this, but that thing where you do things without fully conceptualizing the potential consequences of an action until they're staring you in the face. its gotten him into way too much trouble

has a very black and white worldview and........doesn't fully see a lot of his enemies as human, or feel empathy for them. he's very stubborn about what's right and wrong

HE'S LITERALLY A SPY FOR THE US GOVERNMENT WHAT ELSE DO I NEED TO SAY

mind you these are the biggest things off the top of my head. there's probably more. love this terrible freak <3

[loneduet]

Secrets - Part 1

Summary: You love Sokka and it scares you. You don't know what he'll do if he finds out. (You're a firebender)

A/N - ngl I wrote this for myself because of my recurring obsession with this lovable boy.

warnings: kissing, kinda short sorry

Hope you enjoy!

__________________

It all started when I met aang.

I ran way from my home not too long before i met them. Growing up in the fire nation was rough, especially being the emperors daughter. After zuko left to search for the airebender, i soon followed suit and left my status behind. All I ever was to my father was a dissapointment and I couldn't deal with Azula alone.

I was left with few options of where to go. I ended up living undercover in ba sing se where I soon met three kids my age. They were strangers at first, but now I don't know how I lived life without them. They have become my friends. My family.

While I know they are the exact people my brother is hunting down, I couldn't help but join them on their journey. I don't know what I'll do if I have to face my brother, but I know that I will never betray them.

Each of them showed me a kindness I have never known or deserved. Katara immediately accepted me, she loved having another girl be on the conquest and she insisted on braiding my hair everyday. Aang was kind and understanding. Deep down I know that he is aware of the secrets I keep, but he respects my boundaries and he shows me the fun to be had of everyday things. And than theres sokka. He is a completely different story.

When I met him my whole world was changed. At first he was wary of me and my additional presence to the group, but we soon started to get along. Really get along. He was protective and caring. At first glance, i immediantly respected the way that he treated his sister. While they fought like all siblings do, it's obvious that they truly love each other and I know that sokka will take care of her until the end.

I can see that all sokka wants to accomplish is to be a good leader and brother. He doesn't have bending abilities and he has admitted to me that this is one of his greatest insecurities, but it is far from a flaw. He hides a lot of his fear through his stupid jokes and ridiculous attitude, but I have learned to see through his disguise.

I have fallen so incredibly fast for this water tribe boy and he is completely unaware. Knowing his story, I can't let him find out about my past. He will never love me especially if he knows that im fire nation scum.

__________________

"Y/N, do you want to share with me?"

I looked over to see Sokka and his adorable puppy dog eyes looking at me.

"Of course." I giggle, helping him set up the tent.

Due to our constant travels and relocations, we had very few supplies which resulted in only three tents between the four of us. I wasn't complaining though.

"Goodnight Y/N." Aang said, giving me a friendly kiss on the cheek before heading to his tent.

"Yeah, goodnight!" Katara said with a wink. To her, it was obvious that I liked her older brother. She immediantly approved when she found out about it. If only she knew who I was.

I climbed into our shared tent and zipped it up behind me. Sokka was already laying down opening up the covers for me.

It was a normal thing for sokka and I to fall asleep in each other's embrace. Ever since we accidently fell asleep during one of aangs stories we have been inseparable. Sokka claims that he sleeps better because of how warm I naturally am and frankly he helps me keep the nightmares of my dad at bay.

From an outside perspective, our relationship is definitely weird. It's not normal for 'just friends' to cuddle up to each other every night. Deep down though, we both knew that their are feelings, but neither of us wanted to ruin what we have. What we could have.

I slipped under the covers next to him, his water nation blankets being especially fluffy and comfortable. Naturally his arms wrapped around my smaller frame and I tucked my head against his chest. His slow heart beat helped lull me to sleep.

"Y/N?" Sokka asked right before I dozed off.

"Yea?" I softly replied.

He than looks me straight in the eye. "I'm really glad I met you."

The statement takes me aback and I look maintain his eye contact, sitting up.

"Can I kiss you?" I whisper, not being able to help myself any longer.

He doesn't reply but leans forward and captures my lips with his. His body radiates warmth as he scoops me into his lap. I slide my hands into his soft hair that is let out of his usual ponytail. He grunts softly and let's go of my lips and puts his forehead against mine.

"Y/N, I think I love you."

Before he could return to kissing me my entire body freezes. He notices when I tense and looks at me questionably.

"I cant." I reply, leaving the tent in haste. The boy of my dreams watches my figure go, wondering what he did wrong. I cant do this to him. It has to stop.

[mostlyghostlyy]

What if you end up carrying his child? With the way you’re growing and changing he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you…..he’d probably be the most possessive he’s ever been too.

Yo this took me forever 😭

Does he want to get you pregnant? I don't think he really puts much thought into the "Being a Father" part of it. Instead, focused more on the security of it all. He would really like to get you pregnant, so you can't leave him. Dale is the type to baby trap you in the relationship, just because he is that insecure about your motivations and love for him. He's mortally afraid of your abandonment. Dale keeps pushing things to the next level, forcing things along until he has a scheduled and reliable family unit. Although I'm not sure he can function in an adequate situation. So, to answer this question: yes, I think he would want to get you pregnant, but may not be able to withstand the pressure.

Dale absolutely wants you to know he's planning on knocking you up. Whenever you have sex he absolutely refuses to wear any protection, and insists on cumming inside you. Theres really nothing that can stop him from doing this. Occasionally you'll do something so motherly he gets a hungry pang to hold you down in a mating press and fill you with his seed. You deserve to be a mother! All the while claiming "You're going to be such a good Mommy, little Angel~" I think planting a little piece of him inside of you is something he'd obsess over. Constantly cooing about how "you'd look so good growing his child", constantly rubbing your stomach as if there was a child already inside.

I think he can sense changes in you before you even know. He'll be able to tell if you're feeling off, and to be honest, he probably tracks your periods anyway. But when you do finally break the news, he's absolutely ecstatic, happily bouncing around you. Swinging your arms and singing about how wonderful life is. Happily chattering away about making toys and a room for the new baby, but the reality hasn't really set in for him.

Once you start lactating, he's never not on one of your tits. Claiming it's to help you feel more comfortable, when we all know he's taking advantage. Dale is constantly pushing or feeling on your stomach. Probing as if looking for the little baby inside. He'll lay on your stomach for hours, ear pressed firmly against your warm skin as he smiles and talks to the little one inside. He probably insists on singing to them too. Dale would low-key love how lethargic you'd get. It becomes so easy-peasy to get you to settle down in his arms for a lazy cuddle day.

I don't want to talk about him as a father, or him with a kid. I would not be able to write that well at all. BUT! I would love to discuss how possessive and vigilant he would be for your body's changes. Probably takes at least one picture of you a day, just to combine them all in a slideshow later. He probably jerks off to it too, considering HE'S the reason your belly is getting bigger and your tits are swelling up. He believed you will be ruined for so many other men, and he loves it. You'll never be able to leave him now. His forever and for all eternity.

Anyone even looks at you in public, and he's hissing at them. He's constantly walking behind you with his hands grasped tightly over your stomach. Eyes always shifty and head on a swivel (in case, idk someone sneak attacks you???) He would be extra attentive to any dangers in the nearby proximity. Maybe a little too much so. He loves bragging to everyone he can that you're pregnant with his child, even if you're not that far along.

[spidermanifested]

as someone who likes to think hes thought a decent amount about the story of fullmetal alchemist. aka every single day for the past however many years. the thing about the bafflingly prevalent contingent of people who insist that fmas politics are actually very nuanced and leftist is. that i honestly cant figure out what parts of it they even mean?

is it the part where fascism is defeated by war criminal "heroes" who insist that the best way to enact large scale change is to never directly challenge systems, but to infiltrate them and work your way up to the top until you can become the dictator yourself and then tell everyone that actually voting is cool. unless the whole world is about to end, in which case youre allowed to do One coup but then you have to lie to the whole country about what happened and go back to doing incrementalism

is it the part where fascism isnt interrogated realistically as a cultivated product of social unrest, stratification and bigotry, but instead was instituted by a Cosmically Evil Badguy, and all the imperialism and genocide was just kind of a byproduct of that, and if we beat that one guy then everything will eventually be fine

the part where the difference between a Good King and a Bad King is that a good king CARES about his subjects and a bad king DOESNT care >:( but even within the "we need to turn amestris into a democracy!!!" lukewarmly liberal moral framework theres zero discussion of the fact that maybe monarchies are also pretty bad. and the good ending is when the Good King promises to protect the oppressed ethnic minorities in his country but god forbid those minorities actually have any political power themselves

is it the part where the most oppressed ethnic minority in *amestris* is represented by "Religious Terrorist (But Sad)", "Terrorist's Dead Brother", "System-Loving Cop", "Old Lady Who Shows Up Once To Say Not All White People", and "Literally Gandhi. Look At Him Hes Saying A Gandhi Quote"

is it the part where killing people is the worst thing you can do, but if you do mass murder to civilians on behalf of a government but feel really bad the whole time you can still be a good guy, but if you do any amount of killing for any other reason or while feeling an emotion other than sadness youre a borderline-irredeemable monster, unless youre barry the chopper in which case it was funny so its okay (< the only part here thats true)

is it the part where the main character gains the respect of a member of the aforementioned ethnic minority by being racist to him. the part where a black girl has to get scolded by a white girl to realize that stealing is wrong. the part where the only major character to refuse to take part in a genocide is constantly called a coward for doing so by his epic girlboss hypernationalist sister and this is never really challenged. the part where the Sad Religious Terrorist gets guilt tripped so hard about killing 2 people while he was having the worlds most understandable panic attack that he decides hes fine working together with the guys who killed his family, because the System Loving Cop is so heroic, for wanting to do incrementalism, which again, is inherently moral

like the more i think about it the less i get it. this is the most milquetoast "bad things are bad and good things are good" status quo loving political narrative for 15 year olds on earth. where is the super relevant social commentary. because it feels like its just incredibly surface level "the bad guy is like hitler so the author is antifascist and based!!!" 2014 harry potter fandom type nonsense and its REALLY weird that it always comes from people insisting that theyre just that much better at media analysis than all the haters?? and that any criticism must be missing the point. what point. what is the point

[suffarustuffaru]

Have you ever heard of or played an official rezero mobile game called Lost in Memories?The game features a story that is a retelling of the anime and it also divided into 3 chapters: "Main Story"，"Ver. Main Story" and "IF Route". The game features branching paths that lead Subaru to a different outcome of the story，turning into a "What IF" scenario.

But what intrigued me the most was arukoru, a character who looks exactly like suabru, but is much more cold and heartless and supposedly comes from the failed loop  where subaru had tried to defeat Petelgeuse.It's really interesting and refreshing for me to see a different version subaru not from those if routes of canon novel series,and I really like arukoru's characterization and identity, but it's a shame that he's barely mentioned and discussed in either Japanese or Western fanbase.

ANON IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED BC FROM WHAT IVE SEEN OF LOST OF MEMORIES IM QUITE FOND OF IT (though i dont know everything oops T^T) AND ALSO IM QUITE FOND OF ARUKORU/ALCOR. ALMOST NO ONE TALKS ABOUT HIM SO I KIND OF HALF THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY PERSON WHO KNEW ABOUT HIM ALJSFLJS

but yes. i sadly have not played lost in memories and i have not watched Every Second of it unfortunately hah but!!! the branching paths it has are very interesting <3 and alcor is definitely very interesting to me, even though i dont know every detail on him. and okay for anyone seeing this and doesnt know who alcor is, you can have a picture of him:

look at him with his thigh highs and galaxy sword fr............. what a guy.....

i think like a year or two ago i actually made like a small drawing redesigning his mask just bc i didnt like it lajsdlfjd. i love the jagged purple "scar" in the mask and the black feathers and the piercing eye but it does not look very visually appealing to me. imo. so i think i redesigned it to be like a skeleton mask of a ground dragon (and yeah one of the eyes had that jagged scar still) to still incorporate the white + feathers? and also bc he seems to be using similar looking skeletons in this photo for reasons i dont know?? is that his power?? but anyway yeah. otherwise i think his design is kind of. a banger? just a bit HAH.

anyway so. yeah like what anon said - alcor's another version of subaru thats turned out this way bc hes from a failed timeline where he tried to fight and defeat petelgeuse and he died like. Way too much. but also alcor is like?? an "illusion" at the same time?? created by this purple haired elf lady?? who was in turn created by this green haired elf lady whos teamed up with subaru to help him recover his memories bc "lost in memories"?? okay if anyone knows the full story behind this please feel free to explain if youd like aljdflsjdf. but i think its interesting seeing - you know, another version of subaru appear in the "main story". like i think alcor is kind of similar to amnesiabaru in this lense - iirc alcor seems to insist that hes the real one, but its kind of. tragic. bc hes kind of not the real one at the same time, if he really is an "illusion"?????? but also he IS another version of subaru, one that grew cold and empty and jaded. hes so Tired, i just kind of. pity him.

i considered using him for a fic once aljdsfljs along with using some other slightly more obscure / underrated versions of subaru (such as aganau subaru yeah) but that fic never got off the ground iirc but yeah. i think hes interesting and definitely another way to explore like. a version of subaru that has a complicated relationship with subaru. like not just HIMSELF, but you know - MAINBARU. its interesting, i think, that hes defensive. that he seems to have this chip in his shoulder. and hes definitely rough at the edges bc his whole design shows that - not just in like an edgelord way bc of all the black and purple lajsdlfj (and even then its a fun contrast to his normal black/white/yellow color scheme) but theres the bandage on his arm, the mask, the name change (alcor), the when he takes off the mask, theres dark circles under his eyes. dude is tired and i think hes distant from himself too bc hes, well. Alcor now - not entirely subaru.

and also yeah he died a shit ton of times to petelgeuse.... poor dude. needless to say i am a big fan of all versions of subaru and his many flavors of Identity Issues.

Live Mindful of Death (死を意識して生きる Shi o ishiki shite ikiru): Live Mindful Of Death is a second Authority which allows Alcor to recreate or force changes in the timeline after his death if it does not end how he wants it to end. He can alter events or prevent possible situations which can completely change the timeline to his liking. This even works on realms where time is non-existent. The change during a reset are strong enough to bring back the world after it's destruction and revive or recover anyone no matter their condition.

Memories: For some unknown reason, anyone who has some intense bond or connection with Alcor will slightly remember past iterations of the timeline before it is reset, similar to Deja Vu. Though knowledge is limited, it can help them predict future events which is extremely useful to any allies of Alcor as they can predict what will happen next, unless the timeline was changed far different from it's previous incarnation. It can also be used in a fight to throw of his opponent by using an attack they didn't predict or fighting in a way he hadn't done before.

Penalties: The butterfly effect of Alcor's reset is completely out of his control. This means that any changes Alcor's Authority produces can be manipulated, what happens beyond said time is completely unknown. Future events could happen entirely differently after he changes the timeline and nothing like his prediction. He would have to use the ability again if he wished to change the timeline to his preference.

^^^ ALSO REZERO WIKI SAID THAT ALCOR HAS THIS ABILITY??? IS THIS REAL??? THATS KIND OF. TERRIFYINGLY INTERESTING?? LIKE THIS KIND OF POWER IS INSANE GODDAMN.... CAN YOU IMAGINE THE BUTTERFLY EFFECTS THIS WOULD HAVE....?????

[omegalomania]

ive got a one free sincere poetical diatribe coupon that expires this week so im cashing it in on waxing lyrical about my favorite band for a minute cause im stupidly sleep deprived and its gonna be a long night so

the thing is this.

the thing is that maybe there isnt quite magic in this world but theres something to be said for the pure unfettered serendipity of a million little things conspiring to have certain peoples paths cross and the way this can change entire worlds. maybe i dont believe in magic but i believe in the unshakable fucking certainty that a 17 year old joe trohman had when he met a 17 year old patrick stump in a bookstore by sheer chance and listened to his demos and Knowing that he should sing despite patrick not being a singer and not particularly wanting to sing. i believe in the stone cold rock solid belief this kid had in this other kids voice to the point where he dragged his buddy over to his house to prove he had the pipes they needed. i believe in pete wentz hearing patrick stump sing in person for the first time and realizing wait, yeah, actually hes our golden fucking ticket. i believe in the last second just before patrick was about to get on the kit to record the drums for take this to your grave, andy hurley comes swinging in fresh from recording an ep with another band and knocking out every drum part damn near flawlessly. i believe in a band of scrappy dumb punk kids who grew up in the suburbs of the midwest and took over the world and didnt plan for any of it to get as big as it did. i believe in this weird fucking band with their weird fucking idiosyncrasies, this band of four guys who dont look like they should be friends let alone making music together: a heavily tattooed vegan straightedge beefcake drummer, the ambitious visionary bassist with the 50-megawatt grin, the tattoo-sleeved lanky guitarist with an inescapable rock 'n roll bent, the pixie-pale and painfully anxious frontman with the voice of a soul singer.

i believe theres a special kind of chemistry that only makes sense with the four of them, together. its the guy with the visuals and the words, this bassist who was supposed to be a lawyer or a star soccer player but instead crafts stories from the narratives he crafts in his head. its this guitarist with his love for the interleaving of sounds and ability to seamlessly jump from front-facing to incredibly restrained and his indelible blues-rock momentum. its this singer who never intended to sing but whose soaring, clear tenor is so utterly distinct that he quickly became one of the most iconic and versatile vocalists in the genre, if not in the world of music in general. its this hardcore drummer who pulls everything together and forms the throbbing heartbeat of the band, whose grit-edged metalcore backbone not even the poppiest of all pop choruses can truly file away.

i believe in this: andy hurley's unshakable faith that the band would reform during the hiatus, despite all evidence to the contrary. patrick stump writing the song that would become "miss missing you" for his solo record but then setting it aside because it didnt feel like it was for him, again, despite every indication that for all anyone knew, fall out boy was done for good. pete wentz, moved by a miserable blog post from his split-up bands singer, reaching out and sparking what was unheard of, especially for bands like them - a renaissance, a successful resurgence, and one of the best comebacks any musical act can say theyve had in decades. joe trohman picking up the phone and preparing to tell patrick stump that he wasn't ready to go back and do the band again if he wasn't going to be writing music, only for patrick to take the words out of his mouth and insist that he should be writing more and he was too talented a writer for them not to allow him space for that.

i believe in the little things. i believe in a band that was never expected to last a summer but has become an indelible part of music history, naysayers be damned. i believe in the unique chemistry of four guys who have no monetary or logistical reason to continue doing this thing aside from the fact that they love it so - they love the process of creating with one another, and they love the car crash hearts whose hearts beat in sync with theirs. i believe in joe listening to the first pass of "fake out" exactly once, picking up an acoustic guitar, and walking into record the instrumentation that ultimately pulled the entire song together in one take without thinking twice about it. i believe in andy simply knowing that "heaven, iowa" would make the final cut of the record despite patricks reticence and his not knowing how to make the song something he could say he was proud of. i believe in pete pouring some of his most vulnerable feelings into his, fearful of how well they will be accepted but making that leap nonetheless, only for the crowds to sing every single word back to him.

maybe theres no such thing as magic or fate and maybe theres no point. but i think of stardust. i think of four guys who poured so much love and time into this record and named it for stardust and i think of them as this: fistfuls of cosmic dust who all sprang from the same etiology. i think of them and its a romantic fucking notion but i allow myself this, i entertain the thought that when the cosmos formed and the detonation of planets and the dissolution of comets created that far-flung scatter of so much (for) stardust, that starry residue liberally dotting the broad span of the black, the four of them all came from the same origin point and like magnets ended up snapping together and thats the way theyve stayed. for years. for decades.

what i guess im trying to say is this: when the universe formed we all came from stardust and we will all return to stardust and i cant help but wonder if those four guys all came from the same stardust too.

like i said. its a romantic fucking notion. i believe in the little things though. and you know what they say about believers (never die).

[takami-takami]

It’s the evening, and for the first time, Keigo finishes work before you, it’s an odd feeling, to come home and the radiators aren’t on, the lights are still off, more importantly you’re not there to fill the massive empty space in his home and thus his heart. And he simply, doesn’t know what to do. You’re working late today. You told him already. And yet he still doesn’t feel ready to be at home on his own for however how long because you aren’t home. His house is but an empty shell when you’re not in it to make it a home. But theres not much he can do about a late shift. So he changes out if his work clothes regrettably, ans his mind wanders to how by now you’d be kissing the space on his back between his wings, stopping him from completely pulling down his shirt so you can simply just feel him and his warmth. Your absence irks him, and as independent as he seems to be, he’s never realised until now that his entire routine has you already incorporated into it.

By now you’d already be insisting to make something warm for dinner, or if you’re feeling tired, he’d insist on having take-out delivered, and you’d either watch some trash television together while you eat or you’d sit facing each other on the couch, eating while you tell each other about your days. But you’re not here. Every-time he thinks about what he should do with you, muscle memory activating because it’s now routine for him to be around you, that painful reminder comes again. The couch is cold, the living-room is dark since amidst all his thoughts, he forgot to even turn on the light, and an unsettling loneliness creeps in on him. It feels like back before he met you, before you turned his empty husk of a house from a place to just sleep and eat, to a home, your home.

And he can’t stand the feeling, it’s getting darker outside too, any time he tries to even do something he thinks of how it would be way better with you there.

And so he decides he’ll be picking you up from work. He knows what the place looks like, but the address has slipped his mind, he doesn’t get to visit often because you’re always home before him. So he opens his phone, scrolling back in your texts messages dating all the way back to last year where you sent him the address of the place, and that’s all he needed.

You’re exhausted. Today wasn’t the best day. Somebody screwed up at work and you had to collectively take the fall with them. The nagging and the sharp words of warnings from your higher up seemed to be more harsh than usual today, like spreading salt on an open wound, and because of all that, you had to do overtime.

Glancing at the clock, it’s soon going to be 10, you’ve promised yourself when starting this job you’d never go that far for overtime, and yet here you are. The worst part is you’re not even getting paid for this. You’re here to fix the mistake or they’ll dock it from your pay. But at some point your brain just switches off and just, gets the work done, you were so tired of everything that even complaining made you more tired.

And now it’s time to go home.

The cold weather doesn’t help, you can already feel the harsh breeze and you’re not even out the building yet, wrapping your scarf around your neck, making sure everything is locked up in the building a second time before you leave because you refuse to give your boss another reason to chew you out. Finally, you’re out, and the cold weather hits hard, all you can think about at this point is going home. But you look up and it seems like home has come to you.

Keigos standing there, in sweatpants, a pair of trainers, and a coat, with his wings curled in on him to shield him from the cold. He was so tunnel minded on you you you that he didn’t even feel the cold until he finally stopped at your work place. You don’t know why he’s there, but he feels like a heaven sent angel after the long day you’ve had, and some part of you crumbles at the sight of him, melting back into that vulnerable state you’re in whenever he’s around. The distance between you closes so slowly as you take steps towards him, and he just, stands there, with his feathers puffed up, a redding nose, and eyes full of love. When you’re close enough, he opens his arms and pulls you into him, practically welding himself to you. You’re almost ready to cry if it weren’t for the laugh bubbling inside you. “Why are you here silly bird??” You tell him, because there were no plans or mentions of this. You’re glad he’s here.

And Keigos not ready to tell you how much he misses you in time he can’t spend with you, he can’t put into words how you’re his home and without you he simply can’t wind down anymore, you just, have to be there, it’s something woven into his life that he doesn’t think will change, you’re a part of him, a second heart, that he can’t live without. But he can’t say any of that, so he settles for a “Wanted to see your pretty face sooner” , and it’s not a lie technically, but from the way he’s pulling you into him so deeply, with such a longing look in his eyes, something tells you that theres a bit more than that to it, but you’re happy leaving it unspoken because you can feel it instead, and thats good enough for you.

“Lets go home now” you say, knowing all too well that anywhere with him is home, together you are home. Regardless, he holds you tigher for another minute before picking you up. As if he’d let you take the subway at this time of day.

(Here you go :>> sending lots of hawks thoughts and cuddles to you)

CRYING AND SNIFFLING. HIS LITTLE RED NOSE..........

[malewifesband]

trying to go back and actually write this scene w kabru and rin. my stupid illness is worse again so im struggling but id like thoughts if anyone has them. on like any aspect

to establish: i feel like kabru takes rin for granted like by far the person he seems to treat worst is her. hes not a terrible person for this no way but like the way he teases her about liking him despite having no feelings for her ... idk i feel like he counts on rin always being there. like nothing could push her away so he feels he can be a bit cruel and hell be forgiven--not like she doesnt rag on him all time, right?

but i think things change when he falls in love. like it finally hits rin that man, its never going to be her. shes watched him date around for years, and never truly fall for someone, so there was always that hope that one day hed just realize how he really felt about her. and now she cant delude herself thats true, she can just fuckin tell how bad he has it for laios after spending two years living between the castle and her apothecary. she starts trying to breakaway from him, because every time she talks to him theres a reminder that he loves someone who isnt her.

feeling especially pathetic one night, she sees marcille, who is also feeling especially pathetic bc falin is still over a year away from her and enjoying their open relationship, but marcille doesnt. she cant bring herself to want anyone but falin. rins like ok bet. we are the same kind of pathetic and i dont like you but youve also been nothing but nice to me and im not reconciling these feelings. lets have sex

the scene im struggling with comes after

like rin is in the garden again, hoping that marcille will come. she didnt feel lonely when she was with marcille. she felt... special. more seen. she didnt think about how she misses kabru even when hes with her.

but ofc kabru is seeking her out bc he just really fucked up with laios.

she tells him, yeah man, super your fault for pressing the bruise after fuckin kissing him and then refusing to talk about it. everybody knows the dude does not want to get married and have heirs why did u like agree with his dads letter that he has a duty to sire children

she really doesnt want to talk to him about this. she wants him to need her like she needs him--she doesnt want to need him like she does. and she doesnt want to help him fall in love with someone else, but its like he doesnt even realize whats happening.

kabru insists the kiss was nothing, and he shouldnt talk about it with laios bc he was just drunk its just... he wants laios' full trust. and its weird, but sometimes he pictures laios as girl and something about that works. but its a weird wishful thinking bc kabru wants to get thru this barrier they have where (kabru feels) laios feels like he cant trust him bc kabru is good liar and laios cant read ppl. like maybe if they shared something that intimate, them both being trans, theyd understand each other completely

rin doesnt really know what to make of any of that. it feels like further rejection. like it just feels obvious to her that no matter what, he loves laios. and that thorny feeling of jealousy is spiraling around her heart. maybe she says something cruel, gives terrible advice bc she feels so hurt that he cant see how sincere her jealousy is, that he cant see how it hurts her to hear him in love with someone else?

im not super sure where to take the scene from there. i know i want it to end with kabru feeling worse about laios and deciding to avoid him, but without him realizing that rin is purposefully pulling away yet. (he'll realize that later, when laios is the one to tell him she and marcille and seeing each other and he didnt even know. and he'll have to address then that hes taken her friendship for granted)

any thoughts on the kinds of things she might say? or might tell him? i feel like theres an obvious solution im just missing

[breakingbutch]

preface / a key for this concept map 

hi im thalia, curator of this collection, theres a lot of shit in here i’ve learned over the yeaars trying to be kind to myself as best i can and enjoy life and be nice to other people and shit. this is what helps me do that i think. i have memory issues and this is all stuff thats been said before but i’m gonna put it in front of u in some somewhat neat somewhat messy piles. some of it probably has ssome academic backing or smth but i could never honestly tell you which parts i’m stealing and which parts im making up. try to read with an open mind lmao. that way i can really get my worms in u. i'm also typing this howeveer idrc my keyboard is weird sometimes n i jus let it do that if it wants. could also be my shaky hands. whaatever, call it a unique narrative voice

its gonna draw a lot on concepts i talked about with my class n they all probably have notes somewhere and they might notice similarities between this n like death of ivan ilyich, wit, trans a memoir, safe, the elephant man, stuff like 

disability (for me its h-eds, go google it, but like essentially its the youre in a doubtable amount of agony always disease its so fun)

transness

autism

ocd

cptsd

multiplicity

schizophrenia

depression / mania

borderline personality disorder

immune system / stress disorders

"hypochondria" (BULLSHIT concept)

mortality (confronting and embracing and resisting and whatever)

#thefreakshow (reassurance for able bodied folks that they are normal and not so unfortunate, a place for freaks to see themselves empowered through freedom from shame and monetary gain, an instance where someone is deemed abberant and laughed at, and all the cruelty that implies)

#caregiving the dynamic between a sick person (hi thats me) and their caretakers and people around them and doctors and such

#medicaldrive trying to become “healthy” in whatever that means

being #monstrous, inhuman, needing to be changed or fixed to be acceptable for society, having caretaking needs beyond what others are capable of, acting in strange or harmful ways, being visually unacceptable (elephant man)

#unseendescent living in a body you know to be certainly doomed while others insist on the lie of hope, refusing to mourn you with you before you leave (death of Ivan ilyich, butterfly and diving bell to an extent)

#butterfly having a vast internal life you have no way of externalizing, thru paralyzation of the body socially or physically (the diving bell and the butterfly, trans memior)

#intrainterpersonalvoid the great distances that can exist between a self, the surface of the self, and others (elephant man, the diving bell and the butterfly)

#selftorture finding joy in a monotonous or painful or humiliating or degrading or otherwise negative state of being (the diving bell and the butterfly)

self sacrifice for society, #martyrdom for academia and medicine and other institutions, the beauty of it when it is chosen and the horror when you are selected arbitrarily or otherwise for sainthood (wit, the silt verses)

#lonelyartiste dedication to a craft as isolative

#happyhermit isolative existences as bearable and free of judgement, but also as lonely and maddening

#amisafe drives for saftey, for hiding and running away from pain and fear and negativity and how that doesn't guarantee a better life, how it can easily lead to a more isolated life (safe)

#woundedchild disability feminizing all forms, how it makes one appear less strong or capable or trustworthy or autonomous, needing a caretaker (safe)

#woundeddog disability masculinizing all forms, driving us to seek strength and autonomy over others, to impose pain on them (death of Ivan ilyich)

#whereisme questions of where identity is stored in the body, whether it is the brain and the memories or the body and it's reactions

#dataerror dementia / alzhiemers, memory loss and the fear and distress it can cause the self and others

#erraticity parkinsons, mania, loss of control of the self and the body and the fear and distress it can cause the self and others

loving the body as an animal that once had a self attached to it, as a monument and memory of that self (a splinter of a dad is better than no dad at all from the diving bell and the butterfly

#interpersonaldependence, living in symbiosis / parasitism with those around us, communication and trust without judgement surrounding needs

#narrativizingillness telling stories, simplified or romanticised or wwhatever versions of the past, about ourselves to better understand how to move forward, relying on others to read that story and give us kind and helpful advice, sometimes by telling their own story

here's the playlist of songs that will eventually be featured on this blog for lyrical analyzation

questions of this text

which philosophical approaches help me to be kindest to myself?

which attitudes towards death and suffering free me most from fear and discomfort?

how can I inscribe my identity upon my body in a way that protects me from those that wish me harm and endear me to those who wish me well?

to what extent can my strategic mental frameworks ease and reinterpret my pain?

how do we find ourselves? through others? through experimentation? through reactive aversion?

how can we love those with monstrous qualities?

symbols to look for

things

houses - personification of the house, a body that is written upon and lived in, haunted by ghosts of all who have lived there, theres a great jacob geller video on this, bees are inseparable from beehives

technology - humans are inseparable from our technology, so it is part of our organism, the material world pushed through the filter of our consciousness, the computer as a part of the brain, a different storage location, medical advancements as facets of human existence without judgment, eg treatments and the states they leave us in eg prosthetics, plastic / top / bottom surgery, drugs like chemo, hrt, even medically unconventional drugs like alcohol and weed and such

burning / fire - self destruction / aggression, the stage before rebirth, the phoenix alight

life from death - flowers on graves, the stage after rebirth, the egg in the ashes, a new self from the old

eyes - perception and interpretation, scopophobia and agoraphobia as well as narcissism, desperation for it / repulsion from it

masks - the curated self as a performance for others, customer service voice, code switching, autism, the ability to be someone else with great effort

places

the void - you aren’t supposed to be here, biologically, socially, mentally, it is unsafe, if you're here you’re dead or dying, the further in you drift the farther you get from humanity at large, but we long for it nonetheless, the sea, substances, bliss, nirvana, euphoria from unorthodox sources, wonderful location for self destruction

the city - human community manifest, a place designed and intended for you, healing doctors and nourishing restaurants, togetherness, the further in you go the harder it is to get away from others, from perception, from judgement and laws

people

the internal family dynamics - seeing oneself as being made of the people who have been in your life, perspectives you have experienced the impact of, each can become overactive within the self, and overlap with the other in weight of presence at any given moment

inner caretaker - managing your self as one would a child, soothingly, that eases pain effortfully, operator the coping skills we have learned from others

inner child - the strong averse reaction to stimuli, the desire for petty comforts that must be indulged in from time to time, feels the things we need to cope with

inner aggressor - the averse reaction to self or others, Adrienne’s “dog” who tears at her sweater, the destructive responses to stimuli we have learned from others, death drive

inner protector

inner lover - the attractive reaction to self, others, or stimuli, the ability to appreciate and be drawn to, the positive, creative response to stimuli we have learned from others, life drive

inner animal - the unthinking, bodily response, the knee jerk, the growl of a stomach, the fur on your legs, the baseline default continuance, body without consciousness

feared self - the version of yourself avoided being, the most rejected version of the self, the negative aspects you think may be part of you, that you see in others and are repulsed by

desired self - the version of yourself striven to be, the positive aspects you don’t believe you have, that you see in others and desire them for

the monstrous - ways in which we are demonized and made to seem inherently cruel or evil, archetypes we are pushed into when we unsettle or harm others

werewolves - one who is inseparable from their feared self, inner animal, then inner aggressor, due to cultural pressures of perception and the confined space of the roles it is allowed in (dog or man), feral dominant dissociation during sex

dolls - one who is inseparable from their desired self, idealized moldable femininity, innocence and youth, due to cultural pressures of perception and the confined space of the roles it is allowed in (infant or maid) fragility passive submissive dissociation during sex

vampires - one who is inseparable from their feared self and desired self, inner caretaker, then inner lover, then inner aggressor, trust turned sour, an unbelievably talented and powerful and influential figure, plotter, schemer, keeper of eldritch knowledge that grants control of others, active dominant vocal intelectual presence during sex

sirens - one who is inseparable from their feared and desired self, inner child, then inner lover, then inner aggressor, alluringly talented in irresistible ways, love as illusion for predation, form that grants control over others, active submissive vocal intelectual presence during sex

parasite - any piece of the family dynamic can take this role and each do so in their own unique way, one who's interpersonal dependancy is greater than their capacity to contribute positively to those dynamics

host - this role is filled by those older or more keenly aware of the surroundings, who serve as guides and protectors, who the outside information is filtered through, has a unique capacity for inducing fear once soured, think the betrayal of a house you trusted turning out to be haunted, realizing you are a drone of a cruel machine

[wastemanjohn]

helloooo bottom!john truther and enjoyer and apologist and whatnot here. can we please please please get john fucked on his hands and knees by another hunter in exchange for information/weapons/help on a hunt? (extra extra love if dean or sam is aware of it & has to keep their mouth shut but feels TERRIBLE)

Thanks for the prompt Angel, I loved this idea. I wrote this very quickly so I hope it's alright!

cw: extremely dubious consent, pretend sam's already 18, nsft

Most kids Sam's age are at parties tonight. Celebrating the start of spring break, trashing the houses of unsuspecting parents and throwing up on each other's shoes. You know, normal stuff.

Sam? Sam barely set foot out of the school gate before Dad was upon him, ushering him into his truck, spewing precious few, undetailed words about some urgent job down south, Dean already on the way, everything so urgent - and yeah, it's not like Sam has ever been invited to one of those parties. Honestly, nothing about them even sounds appealing. But just for once, for once, he'd give anything to be at one of them. To be somewhere normal, doing something normal. Anything that's not sitting in Dad's truck with hair metal thrumming low on the radio, waiting in some low-lit motel parking lot for Dad to do some shady sounding business with some shady sounding sounding hunter. Something about silver bullets. Something about best quality, last minute, no one else holding. And something - something off.

Dad's been gone a while. He said he'd be a few minutes, but that could be hours in Dadspeak, because he never says what he means - and it's just one of the many big and small resentments snowballing in Sam's head with all the others that made a home there during the six hour drive down here. Dad's inability to keep one radio station on for more than two minutes. Dad's little pop quizzes on various monsters, with no sign of him actually telling Sam what they're hunting right now, because that would make too much sense. Dad's too-fast driving, his chain smoking, and the car stinks, Sam's hair stinks, even with the windows right down - and Sam sits in the passengers' seat, he waits for Dad, he's always waiting around for Dad, and he's trying to read a book, trying to pass the time, but his eyes are strained in the low light and his mind just won't focus and he keeps getting distracted. He absently watches the neon signs for air conditioning and cable TV flicker, hears their low buzz. There's a sad, wilted palm tree outside the reception. The door is open, leaving a cutting rectangle of grainy light on the ground, and somewhere, someone is shouting, because in motels, someone is always somewhere, shouting.

And this feeling growing like mould in the bottom of Sam's gut, this weird feeling that's starting to supersede that constant feeling of unfair-unjust that lives in Sam like blood; this feeling that his common sense tells him is stupid. But his intuition disagrees, it's kicking up a fuss, and he hasn't been able to settle since Dad got out of the car.

Because maybe there was something off about Dad's energy that fizzled with those weary neon lights; and Dad still didn't say much, and Sam still can't read the man's mind, but you don't live for eighteen years close enough to rub up against each others last nerve without learning how to spot when something might be wrong. And theres always something wrong with Dad - he's sour faced and miserable, the cause of that changes day by day - but he'd been so insistent. You don't leave this car, Sammy, okay? This guy's a loose cannon. I don't want him to see you.

Sam had snorted, and Dad had looked at him with resigned contempt; but it had faded quickly, and there'd been that something Sam couldn't put his finger on as Dad had got out of the car. Something about the way he didn't look to check Sam was obeying, something stilted in his footsteps. Something that made Sam log the path he took across the parking lot, register the room number he knocked on. The door had opened, and Dad had gone inside, but it had closed so quickly that Sam hadn't been able to see the guy. The loose cannon.

Sam didn't bother asking to go with anyway, because Dad would have said no. He didn't feel much like arguing and insisting at the time, because he was pissed about the quizzing-smoking-Dadness of the entire miserable journey up here. But the longer Dad doesn't come out, that something-weird-not-right feeling gets bigger.  Loose cannon could mean anything, absolutely anything. I don't want him to see you - that phrase is really gaining traction in Sam's head. Why not? And what the hell is taking so long?

The thing is, Sam knows some hunters aren't - well - right. He knows it from the things Dean tells him with dark glee, from the way Bobby has warned him to trust anyone in this life very, very cautiously. Dad has always told him not to trust anyone at all, but Dad is paranoid and thinks in extremes, and Sam never listens to him all that much.

As time rolls on, right now increasingly becomes no different.

There's a pistol in the glove compartment. He conceals it at the small of his back, and glances around like he's being watched as he gets out of the car.

He's worried. He's only a little worried, because Dad's only been gone a little longer than reasonable, and this is stupid anyway; and Sam's only a little worried because Sam's not letting himself be scared, Dad's fine, he's always fine, and Sam is not letting images of Dad stabbed or shot by one of these not-right, untrustworthy loose-cannon hunters flood his mind until he's sick with panic - and he moves quietly but quickly across the parking lot, takes the path Dad had followed, expecting him to emerge from that quick-open-shut door any moment and chew Sam out for disobeying a direct order. Sam would welcome it. He'd let Dad smoke and fidget as much as he wanted for the rest of the journey, he wouldn't bitch about it once, he'd sit shotgun and he'd be the best, most obedient kid in the world, whether Dad deserved that or not. So long as Dad was okay, so long as Sam knew he was safe.

He stops outside the door, dead of night quiet; he can't hear anything from inside. His heart beats out strange rhythms. He's sure this is the right room. The curtains are drawn over windows bordered by flecks of mould. They're ill fitting, don't quite come down all the way.

Sam swallows. There's a tremor in his hands. Maybe Dad and this guy went elsewhere. Maybe Dad's slumped over the bed with a knife in his back, on the floor with his brains all over the wall. Or maybe Sam has just got the wrong room. Only one way to be sure.

He draws a breath, cool-spring night air. Touches the concealed pistol for comfort as he crouches down to peer beneath the crack in the curtains. Braces himself for what he might see, all the awful things he's gone from avoiding truly considering to entirely convinced of.

His heart rate kicks up faster. Then stops. He can't see everything through the crack beneath the curtains. He can see more than enough.

He can see an unmade bed with holes in the frame. He can see Dad on that bed, on his hands and knees. He can see two hands on Dad's bare hips, his jeans hanging loose halfway down his thighs, open belt swinging in rhythm with - oh, god.

The curtain cuts the guy off at the waist. He's much the same - clothes only off as much as convenience requires - but Sam can see enough thigh, enough hip, to know that he's younger, possibly much closer to Sam's age than Dad's. Sam doesn't know why that makes it worse, but it does.

His hand quivers around the gun. He's frozen with shock, with this innate gut-deep disgust at seeing his father being, doing... and with anger too, at Dad, for giving Sam some sinister, hard to decipher warning to keep him away so he could apparently get his fucking rocks off. With a guy. A younger guy. And on the job as well - but then again, that doesn't really sound like Dad.

And maybe getting angry is easier than considering what's in front of him, because the longer Sam stands there, frozen, disgust, what-the-fuck - the more weird this gets.

Dad is - Dad's very still. Rigid, unnerving still. His back is slightly arched, and his hands are flat on the mattress, bunching the sheets between fingers that are bloodless at the knuckles. His face - god, Sam doesn't want to look at his face, not right now, not for this - but Dad is - well, clearly not enjoying himself. His eyes are open, focused on the wall ahead like he's zoned out. His nostrils are flaring faintly. His mouth is in a tight line, somewhere between a grimace and a fixed wince. He looks - irritated, is the closest Sam can come to describing it. Impatient.

His body moves like it's weightless with the force of the hunter's thrusts. His - and Sam doesn't mean to look, but it's kinda hard not to see - Dad's dick is soft. Hanging limp and sad between his legs.

Sam's guts twist, shooting bile to the back of his throat. Fuck, no kid wants to see that. Sam could've gone his whole life without ever knowing what that looked like, what any of this looked like. Without having to consider, with his bones locked together, what he might be seeing.

The guy looks not only younger, but smaller. There's no gun to Dad's head, no knife to his throat. If Dad didn't want to be there - exactly there - well. This guy would be the one bleeding out with a knife on his back. Then why does Dad look - well - like that?

Unless he's being threatened in some other way. Unless Sam is standing here gawping while Dad's in genuine danger, not knowing what the fuck to do. He feels paralyzed, and utterly confused.

Sam's eyes stray to the guy's nightstand. There's a bag there, a brown, straw-like bag with a pattern Sam recognizes. The bags silver bullets sometimes come in, which is all Sam knows, they sometimes come like that, because he doesn't think much about where they do come from. He'd forgotten all about the bullets.

Next to it, Dad's gun.

A disembodied hand comes down on the back of his father's neck, a fierce grip. Dad's brow knits. And for all Sam couldn't hear anything through the door, he's certain he can hear everything now. Grunts, pants. Loud, like they're exaggerated; and as that hand pushes Dad's face into the mattress, Sam definitely hears the slap to Dad's ass, even more clearly than he sees it. Dad flinches, and Sam feels very glad that he can't see his expression anymore.

His thighs are starting to shake from crouching, but he's shaking anyway. There's a cold layer of sweat breaking out on his skin. He watches those faceless hips stutter, then slam to a stop. Sam can see the disgust shudder through Dad's body. He feels it in his own.

For a moment, nothing happens. No one moves. Sam becomes aware that he's stopped breathing, maybe a while ago.

The guy, the loose cannon, the hunter Dad was nervous about, pulls - he pulls out of Dad. Dad doesn't move. Sam watches half a strange arm reach out, grab the bag on the nightstand. He watches as the guy throws it onto the mattress, watches it land an inch from Dad's face.

Dad flinches again. And then, with slow, creeping horror, Sam thinks he might understand.

That bile-rush returns, burns the back of his throat. There's a part of Sam that would like to believe Dad would never be that desperate, that he'd never - do this, let someone do this - just for fucking supplies. But then again, Dad is Dad. The job comes before everything, and it gets done. No matter the cost.

He thinks about how many times he's seen that specific bag among their possessions. Wonders if - if every time - if Dad has done this every single time...

Sam's knees feel rubbery. He watches the guy get off the bed, leaving Dad on the mattress alone.

Dad doesn't move for a while. Sam stays frozen with him, until finally, he uprights himself onto his knees, slow, heavy, baring his teeth like it hurts. And it must.

It's that thought that spurs Sam to get out of there. His quiet-fast walk back to the truck is unsteady, and his head pulsates in rhythm with his stomach, and it's all he can do not to throw up. His thoughts feel jumbled, his head all over the place. But Sam can at least feel pretty strongly that if he ever finds out who this guy is, he'll kill him. Slowly. Excruciating.

It's rage he can't do much about. He can't exactly express it to Dad, humiliate him like that, because if getting fucked for goddamn bullets isn't bad enough, the thought that his son saw the entire thing, stayed to watch what the hell is wrong with Sam he feels dirty and sick, will no doubt kill him. So Sam cans that rage inside of him, saves it for another day. It'll come out the next time a jock thinks he's an easy target, or during a fight about something unrelated. Although, right now, Sam kind of feels like he can never bring himself to fight with Dad ever again.

He waits for Dad in the passengers seat like he hadn't moved at all. His fingers tremble around the corners of his book. Those lights keep on hissing, hissing.

I don't want him to see you. What had that meant?

Sam thinks he might know.

He wishes he could wipe his memory. He wishes he wouldn't keep thinking about it. He wishes Dean was here.

Dad comes back a short while later. He goes to the trunk first - storing that bag, Sam assumes, the bag that guy had fucking thrown at him - before getting back into the car.

Sam closes his book. Dad reaches for his cigarette on the dashboard. His fingers are unsteady when he lights up. He doesn't say a word, which isn't unusual, because Dad never says much; he smells like Dean does sometimes when he stumbles in at 4am. A hint of something else, something like shame; but Sam's imagining that. Shame doesn't have a smell.

Sam watches him, doesn't quite meet his eyes. He feels out of his depth and very, very young. "Are you okay, Dad?"

He asks it casually, in too small a voice. Dad grunts, non-committal, equally casual. "Let's go find your brother."

Sam nods. It's the best idea he's ever heard. And maybe Dad throws him a glance, a confused glance, at the complete absence of Sam's attitude; but maybe he doesn't acknowledge it, because it's easier for them both if Dad acts like he doesn't suspect a thing.

But the job comes first, so Dad starts the car. That smell lingers.

[fat-oc-battle]

chicken noodle (@sammisafetypin)

"Chicken Noodle, "CN" for short, is a teenage beagle and a prodigy painter! The spitting image of the quiet type, Chicken Noodle was a child prodigy as long as they can remember. They picked up the paintbrush at an absurdly young age, and ever since have been producing paintings shown off everywhere from the refrigerator to actual local museums.

They’re a bit of a micro-celebrity, but if they notice their fame, they don’t comment on it — in fact, CN rarely comments on anything. They’re almost always silent, lost in thought and taking hours just to finish a single piece. Their absurd perfectionism doesn’t match their appearance nor their age, but CN insists on it nonetheless, never acting until they’re totally sure of their next step. This can lead to quite a bit of indecision and passiveness, but once CN has actually made a decision, they'll put their foot down hard. It all depends on how much time there actually is to think. The only way to get your way above CN’s is to sound perfectly confident and in authority, with no sign that you’re not sure.

CN is also the adoptive(? no one is sure) sibling of the "great Dr. Yanny", an eccentric author who treats writing like a laboratory science. Yanny simply refers to CN as wir "lab assistant", and tells a different story of their meeting every time. The two of them, alongside two other characters, become trapped in an alternate version of their hometown after an eclipse passes through during an art exhibition for the town's 100th anniversary. Reality is displaced, with certain things 'off' and things changing behind one's back, as well as physics being malleable, emotions being stronger, and violence being easier.

CN becomes the unfortunate protagonist of this story, trying to be mature enough to get everyone through this world and back home before it becomes impossible. With the narration all within their head, it's a lot easier to see their messy, obsessive thoughts, trying to think of the "right" thing to project outwardly. Unfortunately, the psychological strain of this world gets worse and worse, and CN has to contend with the fact that not only are they as prepared for everything as they thought, but that the adults around them may not be infallible wise figures either."

nekiyah (@queefzillah)

"Nekiyah is 34 years old and a licensed sorceress but doesnt work for any government agency. nekiyah's got a personal business(think a reverse funeral home) that offers low cost necromancy services for those who cant afford the rising cost of living in their world. unfortunately for some of her clients, she doesnt have the fancy equipment that keeps souls untethered from family/personal gods so theres a growing number of people walking around losing their minds and shifting into beasts. she means well and wants the best for her community but theres only so much you can do with limited resources. also her favourite colour is cobalt blue💙"