#but our brain is constantly convinced that we are and it's hell

[euclydya]

i hate this like.... constant need to have reassurance that we aren't Annoying or A Bad Person or anything. What the fuck

[thr4shit]

He's gonna be fine, guys. I promise.

We're gonna be fine.

[whiskeyskin]

Goddesses and Mortals

Premise: After the events of Love and Longing, Gale finds out that his feelings are reciprocated.. and that's not all.. 😳🍑🫵

Accidental sequel to a previous fic cause I can't get this lonely Wizard out of my head without the promise of a potentially happy ending 🥹 in more ways than one 😏🍆

Gale x gn!tav • 18+ • E/M rating • MDNI

Gale POV, reader referred to as 'you', no specific mention of gentials or gender, porn with plot?, Mystra can fuck right off, fantasies becoming reality, longing, love, tenderness, mutual masturbation, anal fingering (M receiving), unabashed consent, mild cum swapping, minor sub/dom energy, marking if you squint

5.3k words

Special thanks to @senualothbrok for nestling this tadpole in my brain for Gale to get the real deal one day.. 💜

And at it again @spellbooking with another beautiful gif of our Rizzard ☺️ Thank you! 💜

•°•°•

Gale was close, very close.

He had to hurry, the party would all be rising from camp soon. Though there was no sunlight in this desolate place, a full rest was almost upon him.

Safely secluded in the abandoned house on the far reaches of camp; sweat damp on his brow, his hand slick with salvia, Gale feverishly pumped his length in quick bursts.

Your illusion image looked up at him through lidded eyes licking your bottom lip hungrily and growling a hedonistic moan.

"Gale.." you whimpered, the voice distorted.

"Yes, love.. I'm going to come for you.. only for you.. come with me." He bit out, on the precipice of orgasm.

Suddenly, a faint lilting of rosewater assailed his nose and stopped him dead.

A cold dread filled his body, incapacitating his lungs.

Mystra.

It couldn't be.

Surely not.

Not here.

Not now.

Why right now for hell's sake?

He'd not felt her presence since she'd tried to wedge herself between you both when you'd shared a moment of magic in camp.

Despite their separation, she still checked in on her disgraced former chosen and lover at the most inopportune moments.

Fumbling, he quickly tucked himself away in his waistband and spun on his heel.

Nothing.. but the scent remained.

Had she finally gotten sick of his abusing himself constantly to the fictitious likeness of you, using her magical essence to do so?

Had she been sensing him masturbating at least twice a day since her intervention charm through Elminster?

Was she making herself known to quell his incessant self-gratification, or to participate in it?

Even a tenday ago, that would have been a comforting thought. One he would have relished in, taken solace and pride in.. but this felt wrong.

His sweet nothings he had whispered in the dead of night to "you" weren't for Mystra's perverse enjoyment, or sick amusement, weren't for her for to cast judgement on.

"I don't know why you're here," he called brazenly, "but I assure you, this is nothing that concerns you any longer. Now, if you'd be so kind, leave me in peace." He requested, firmly.

Silence.

He wasn't convinced.

"And I don't appreciate the timing of you little assertion here. Now that I'm finally on a path of some kind of healing, you make yourself known?" He snapped, pointing a finger at nothing.

"You have no reason to be here. You have already spoken your will and want with my life and until such a time that that moment arrives, I will do what I want, with whomever I want. Be they real, or fantasy is no concern of yours. Now, leave." He frowned and gestured finally.

The warmth in the air he didn't realise had been present disparated. He was left cold.

Just like always with her.

"Gale?" Called your voice, your vision now by the doorway.

He looked up to see you leaning on the doorframe, slightly bleary.

"Sorry, my love. I got distracted. Less said about that, the better. Now," he beckoned a crooked finger towards himself, "let's get back to where we were before everyone wakes up."

You frowned and looked him up and down, "Did you just call me, 'my love'?" You asked.

For the second time that early morning, Gale's blood ran cold.

"And what exactly were we doing before?" You irked a brow, looking amused.

Gale struggled for words as the blood that had been swiftly journeying to the south was urgently redirected north.

"I-uh-I did? Must've been a mistake. What are you doing up so early?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

You squinted, "Who were you talking to?"

"No one." Gale answered, feigning innocence.

"Wow, that was convincing." You teased with mockingly wide eyes. You narrowed your eyes at him and he felt a gentle brush against his mind. You were seeking permission. He allowed it.

"Mystra?" You asked with a tense lilt. Gale nodded.

"Thought so, I heard you calling that you were trying to move on and someone was suddenly trying to get your attention again. Is everything alright?" You asked, your tone worried and sincere.

Gale's heart bloomed.

"Yes, since her missive from Elminster, she's reached out. I don't have time for it."

"That's a massive step for you, Gale. You said something about moving on, is that true?"

"Somewhat." He answered in a half truth.

You smiled, "Is she still here?" There was a pause, Gale could see the cogs turning, "Did you want to make her jealous? Is that why you called me 'my love'?"

Gale blinked twice.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe you snuck up here to be with me. Maybe I'm the one you're moving on with."

Again, Gale blinked twice.

How unintentionally right you were.

He swallowed.

"Would that be something you're interested in helping me with?"

"To fuck with the gods? Anything." You purred the last word down the connection at him and it made the hairs on his neck raise like you'd whispered it directly against his skin.

"Then by all means, take the lead."

You irked a seductive brow and turned down your head to gaze through lidded eyes.

He swallowed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. You're just so gods damned handsome. I'm glad we could sneak away again." You walked towards him confidently, a slight prowl in your gait.

Gale's blood supply had ignored previous instruction and fully marched back south. The sight of you - truly you - saying these things to him had him dizzy from the rush of blood.

"Not to worry, I quite enjoying being gawped at."

"Well, it's certainly no hardship." You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a sensual hug, while he desperately tried to keep his erection from your notice.

"Mm, we have to be quick. We don't have much time until the others wake up." You crooned, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Did the minor illusion keep you warm enough while I was gone?"

And for the third time that morning, Gale's body shot full of ice.

His blood entirely confused, threw it's hands up in defeat for direction.

You knew?

How could you know?

He was careful.. wasn't he?

Your hands never stopped roaming; his arms, his shoulders, his neck.. his hair.. oh gods, up into his hair.

Gale's breath hitched and shuddered.

Oh gods, you felt like heaven. Even if he felt like he was in hell.

"I know you like me to watch you but I've been so neglectful lately with everything that's been going on. Can you forgive me?" You pulled back from him, your face pulled into a beautifully twisted smile, sin pulled at the edges.

"I th-think you can make it up to me." He gasped.

Your eyebrows flexed in amusement up your forehead, "Do you want me to watch you right now? With everyone waiting in camp, drinking tea and preparing breakfast?"

You smoothed your hands from his shoulders to the top of his chest, "Do you like the anticipation of being caught, Gale? The rush of being found?"

Oh gods, you were so close. You smelled so good, like lemongrass and lavender.. and underneath the balms, your musk, your scent. You.

"I would do anything, as long as it was with you, my love." He breathed, unable to contain the emotion in his voice.

Your eyes unfocused for a brief moment, then came back, blinking as though seeing through an unfogged mirror.

A soft gasp caught in the back of your throat; that noise could state him for a thousand nights.

Then you stepped away.

You averted your gaze, and backed away from his arms completely. You shut your eyes tightly.

"Gale, I-"

You opened them, a wealth of feelings swirling but he couldn't decipher any of them.

"I need to get back to camp. We need to get to Moonrise Towers today, with Isobel's blessing we can cross the Shadows. We need to be ready." You nodded curtly and disappeared.

Gale stared after you, the cold air of the Shadowlands around him a cruel but poetic pathetic fallacy.

He groaned and closed his eyes against balled fists, as he pressed them against his eyes. Tears brimmed behind them, hot frustrated tears.

"Gods fucking dammit."

***

Gale had attempted to maintain distance today, which had been difficult considering you'd partied up together with Karlach and Shadowheart.

Karlach had tried to question his glum mood, but he'd simply recused it as nerves of their close proximity to the potential Heart of the Absolute.

"Ah, Gale. If there's anyone who knows how shit it is to have a ticking time bomb in their chest, it's me. Come and speak to me sometime mate, yeah? We can talk about it."

"Karlach, you're truly a soul that steels my own. I may just take you up on that."

A firm nod and a beaming smile from Karlach ended the conversation as they entered this Balthazar's chamber, after which none of them really had the stomach for food that night.

Wyll had stepped up and made a hearty bowl of vegetable and meat stew. It was nothing on his own cooking, of course but it was a valiant attempt.

Needed a little more pepper.

You sat nursing your bowl, generally making conversation around the fire. Halsin had joined you back from Last Light with no new news of the catatonic lost soul, apart from that he kept singing. A lute of significance to him had been added to your list of items to retrieve; an ever growing list.

Gale swallowed a mouthful and risked a glance towards you, your eyes met for a brief moment before you looked away, uncomfortable. His heart sank.

He'd truly ruined any chance of friendship after his desperate behaviour this morning. You'd barely spoken two words together all day, and now you wouldn't look him in the eye.

He excused himself for an early night and retreated to his tent. He lit his candles and pulled out one of the many books he'd picked up along today's excursions around Moonrise, hoping that one of them would point them towards the heart.

***

The noise around the campfire grew weary as he poured over his readings. Various 'goodnights' alerted him to the potentially late hour.

Gale sighed and rubbed his eyes, he conjured a bookmark, closed it and drained his glass of wine.

Now that he'd been pulled from his focus, he realised how tired he was. Physically drained from a gruelling day of emotional turbulence.

Rosewater gently lilted under his nose, he snorted it back out.

"Oh for the love of-! Bugger off!" He spat through a whisper.

"I'm sorry." Came your voice from behind him.

He spun around on his knees to see you hastily trying to leave his tent.

"No!" Called a little too loudly, reaching out across the space, "Not you. I didn't mean you."

You stopped, looking back at him for the first time since the morning. The soft glow of the candles illuminating your wonderful face, his heart squeezed uncomfortably.

"I assume she's back again, then?" You asked through terse lips, glancing around the low lit interior of his tent.

"Where rosewater is, Mystra's sure to follow. What can I do for you?" Gale asked, shaking off the lingering of his former lover.

"I-," you started, wringing your hands, "I wanted to apologise for this morning."

Gale blinked.

You wanted to apologise?

"What for?" He questioned his tone incredulous.

"For it all. I embarrassed you, I embarrassed myself.. I acted poorly. I thought it would be a good way to show that I knew what you'd been doing-with the minor illusions." Gale's eyes widened. He'd been attempting to solve that one today.

"H-How did you find out?"

"I'd cast Detect Thoughts on Jaheria when we met her at the Inn, and it lasts all day. I heard you when I was laying down to rest. All the things you wanted to do." You swallowed thickly, and a jolt of excitement shot it's way through his cock to his brain.

That was two nights ago.

He'd fantasized about gourging on your sex as you mounted his face, fucking yourself with his mouth as you leaned back with one hand to stroke him. He'd made a mess of his walls, as well as himself.

"You've got a pretty interesting imagination, Gale. Especially since we seem to be ethereal galaxy people in your head." You smiled, folding your arms across yourself, "The one from last night was pretty hot too." You bit your bottom lip to contain more, and swallowed.

He remembered that vividly.

He'd fantasised about spooning you, fucking into you and playing with you from behind. The mirror image had gasped and moaned for him, breathed his name over and over again, as he came to the thought of pleasing you enough to milk his cum inside your clenching walls.

"I thought it was just sex, that maybe we could get rid of some nervous energy together but then this morning.. the way you-you looked at me.." you trailed off, Gale's heart hammered against his chest.

You rest your splayed hands across your heart, "I was foolish. You're not the kind to just sleep around. To have casual sex and not think of it again."

"Like Astarion?" He quipped before vetting the venomous comment.

You tightened your lip, "Kind of." You answered, with a tone that felt loaded with more secretive information but he didn't want to pry.

Well, he did.

But not right now.

"I could be." He postured, looking up at you.

You let out a short laugh, "That face this morning is not the face of someone who can just have sex and not want more."

He hardened his face, "It could be.. if you wanted to be.." Gale irked a brow, feigning a casual air.

"Oh, yeah?" You goaded, leaning on one hip and folding your arms again.

"Absolutely. We could have sex right now and I wouldn't bat an eyelid." He lied, pushing his lips down into a grimace, while his cheeks flushed and his heart pounded against his sternum.

"Really?" You questioned, looking dubious.

"Unquestionably." Gale punctuated with a flick of his fingers, relaxing into his position on the floor, widening his knees to sit back on his heels in an attempt at nonchalance.

"So, you fantasising about kissing my neck, my chest, stomach and hips and calling me "my love" means nothing." You stated, using air quotations.

"Certainly not. Mere sweet talk." Gale shook his head, shrugging his shoulders, while sweat gathered on his forehead.

You kicked off your hip and confidently strolled towards the short distance to him. His mouth instantly dried to dangerous levels of dehydration, as he tried to keep composure.

"And imagining your cock in my mouth, telling me how much you adore me, that isn't telling at all?" You sneered a lip through a smirk and shrugged one shoulder.

"Demonstrably." He tried to remain calm but every cell in his body was panicking, "Do you see me reacting?" He willed himself through words not to show a care.

Your tongue broke through your smirk to rub against your top teeth and his felt it between his legs, he jerked unconsciously.

"You're glowing." You drawled, dipping your eyes to his chest, "Do you even realise the orb lights up when you're horny?"

Gale's painfully stony face dropped as he quickly darted his vision to his chest.

You were indeed correct.

Through his camp clothes, a faint purple hue eminated through the fabric. Gale shot his had to cover his blatant display of arousal. He gave a sharp exhale through his nose and closed his eyes in utter embarrassment.

"This tent has been a purple colour show since Crèche Y'llek." You teased, the sound of your voice curved around a grin.

Gale's chest hollowed.

Gods dammit.

Mystra dammit.

"Oh and also this.." Suddenly he felt something graze along the length of his concealed erection - what he thought was a his concealed erection.

He let out a whining gasp, his hand slapping against worn leather, and he opened his eyes.

You'd rubbed the top of your boot under and against him in his kneeled position, gliding his sensitive member with the leather of your shoe. You continued the rhythm, the gentle friction was delicious, he gasped open mouthed.

Oh gods, it was real.

You were real.

It wasn't a cruel trick, or a fantasy.

It was you.

Gale reached up to grasp the crook of your knee, you held your gaze steadfast against his own. He began to pull off your boot, your eyes never faultered from his as it was flung to the back of the tent.

Your foot resting on his thigh, his hand still holding the meat of your strong calf.

You took his prickly chin within your fingers, eyes unsure.

"If this going to happen, it's just sex. Nothing more." You stated, in a low tone.

Gale nodded, trembling from anticipation.

"I mean it. If you're on a path to self-destruction in the name of a Goddess, I'm not wasting my time with feelings." Your voice caught and anger flashed across your features but tears hinted in your eyes.

You slid your foot off his thigh and slowly descended to crouch in front of him, taking his face fully in your hands. Their warmth slid into the deepest recesses of his lonely soul.

"I care about you, Gale. You're worth far more than what she's asked you to do. Far more."

He poured over your face, so close to him. Emotions that he had denied himself bubbling to the surface; the longing, the loneliness.. the fear.

You ran a thumb to dry a tear he hadn't realise had fallen.

"Say something." You whispered, your gaze flitting between his eyes and his lips.

Oh gods.

This was to truly happen?

He'd kiss your beautiful, soft lips?

His breathing was unsteady, the anticipation coiled dangerously around every facet of his musculature.

Gale opened his mouth to speak, to utter sweet poetry regaling your beauty, your passion, your wit and wisdom but the words would not form, they were stunted on his paralysed tongue.

You were so close.

He could feel the heat from your body, he could see the wisps of your hair moving with his unsteady breath.

You came closer and pressed your lips between his brows, electric tingling his skin in your wake. His eyes lolled shut as he finally brought his hands to hold you to him, press you to him, to feel you finally.

He slid his hands below the seam of your shirt, to feel your smooth and scarred skin, fire grazing his fingertips at the contact.

"I-.. I care for you deeply. I cannot deny this." He began breathlesly, your forehead's connected, your bodies melting together. You sank further into the embrace, widening your legs to fully welcome him between your thighs.

The image of that first night he touched himself to thoughts of you, bloomed across his mind and he bit his lip.

"Neither can I." You agreed, the sound of your voice low and raspy, "It scares me, Gale. It scares the shit into me," you leaned back, holding on to the back of his neck, slowly leading you both down to the carpeted rugs below his bedroll, "Show me. Show me I'm not wrong to feel this way. Show me I'm not alone in this."

Gale shook in head, almost trance-like, "You're not alone-not alone.. I'm with you." He followed you down, desperate not to lose a second's touch with you.

"And I'm with you, I'm not letting you go." You spoke the words against his mouth, it made his mind numb.

"No, never. Never leave me." He mumbled, as you both situated yourselves on the floor. Words bubbled and frothed out of his mouth before he could stop them, "I've been so utterly alone for so long, cut off from everyone I knew and cared for.. and I'm terrified, I'm filled with dread each day. I don't want to die-I want to stay.. stay here." He mewled through the overwhelming emotion in his throat. You increased the intensity of your touch against your brows.

"Shh, none of that matters now. It doesn't exist. For now.. it's just us.. you and me.." you whispered against his skin, he felt it shiver down every vertebrae.

"You and me." He repeated, comforted by the softness in your voice.

Suddenly, your hand grasped his naked cock. He yelped in pleasure, but was hushed by the passionate meeting of your mouth. You captured his cries, claiming them as your own.

His fingers bunched your shirt, his knuckles white, as your tongue swept in to merge with his.

Oh gods.

You tasted like wine, and oranges, and sex.

He'd imagined your taste, your scent.. but this.. the full force of you was so much more intense that he could have expected.

You fingered his leaking slit and he jerked at the sensation, causing you both to make involuntary, open-mouthed moans.

You increased in fervour at his reaction, a desperate whine eeking from his body.

It was too much but not enough. He wanted more, more of you, more of this. He wanted the world to fall away and to be consumed by only you.

Like you said; "Just you and me."

Even though it would be grammatically correct to say 'You and I'.

Your hand wrapped around the length of him, pumping the head of his penis in short, lanquid bursts.. and suddenly the correctness on ones grammar seemed worlds away.

Gale shuddered and knelt over your body, settling himself between your gorgeous thighs, pressing down against your sex, enough to make you gasp.

You shared a wicked grin together before he cradled you to him, desperately kissing and mating your tongues. His hips unconsciously twitching against the friction of your hand.

"Gods, Gale. I want you." You keened against his lips, puffs of air escaping aggressively from your lungs, as his hips drove against you.

"Yesyesyesyesyes.." he chorused, messily thrusting against your palm, "Want this. Want you. For a long while.. even before.."

"Did you fantasize about all the positions we could fuck in?"

A sharp feeling settled low in his gut and he squeezed his eyes shut to close out a threatening, pre-emptive climax.

"Yes, wanted you.. badly." He added, barely able to speak.

"I know, I saw. Sweating and willing underneath you?"

"Yess.." he hissed.

"Slipping a finger inside me, then another, preparing me to take you?"

Another deliciously painful pang shuddered inside him.

"Stretching my tight hole for you, till I'm begging you to fuck me hard and unrelenting?" You growled against his lips.

Gale tensed his jaw to mute a groan from his chest, as your words gripped the back of his head.

Oh dear fucking gods.

You were very, very good at this.

"I especially liked where I got to play with you. Those moans at the back of your throat when you'd think of me on top, or taking charge.. I had trouble concentrating yesterday because I couldn't stop replaying those sounds."

He heard you whisper an incantation, that his lust-filled brain slowly realised was Mage hand, the moment before he felt the cold sensation working his undergarments completely free, pushing them down passed his knees.

"There was one particular part you seemed to be interested in exploring together." You purred against his temple, as you twisted your grip around his plump, weeping member.

The Mage hand palmed at the cleft of his ass and lazily dragged it's fingers up his perennium, sliding towards his..

He gasped, throwing his head back and loosening his tight hips to tilt them upwards in wanton display.

"Oh gods." Gale whimpered, biting down on his lip hard, "Mm-Mhm." He panted in abandon.

He'd experimented with himself in this matter in his youth and in his newfound sexual freedom after his year of self imposed celibacy but never with another.

The magical fingers languidly drawled across his sensitive skin. He bucked and jerked against the feeling of you pleasuring him, needing more of both.

You groaned and rutted your hips against him.

"You look so beautiful like this, I can see you in the mirror behind you. You look spectacular, spreading yourself for me." You crooned, praising him and licking your bottom lip. You looked beyond him to what he assumed was his mirror.

Oh gods.

You were going to watch him like this.

Like he'd imagined.

Exposed.

Hedonistic.

Depraved.

The thought waved over his brain and made him dizzy, the desire swelled low in his belly.

"You're so willing and receptive, Gale. Do you want me to slide these fingers inside you? To pleasure you completely until you can't comprehend your own name?" You asked salaciously, assuring consent before blindly continuing. He raised his hips higher for better access as wordless agreement.

The mage hand ran a soaked finger across his puckering hole but ventured no further without express permission.

His whole body trembled, desire coarsing through his veins, soaking into every orifice.

"Yes.. yes.. fuck. I need it. Please.. please.." he wailed through staggered breath.

"Look at me." You instructed softly, halting your motions of abject pleasure.

With great difficulty, Gale did as he was told. He about exploded with joy with the sight of you.

He'd imagined you, summoned your likeness but nothing could ever compare to this.

The aura of his orb bathed you in a magical amethyst glow; the adoration shining in your eyes, the seductive curve of your lip, the sweat flattening your hair to your temples.

"So handsome.. so beautiful. Look at you, look at how you light up for me.." you smiled, guilding him with compliments as you raise a hand to touch the angry purple mark on his chest, now emblazoned with Mystra's star. "This does not define you. You are not the orb. You are not Mystra's chosen. You are Gale and you chose your own path. You are, and will always be, enough.. just as you are.."

Soft tears fell from his eyes from the intensity of his emotional response to your words and the physical stimuli of the hand gently testing his entrance.

You gently kissed the apples of his wet cheeks, then looked up at him with a darkened expression.

"Arch your back for me, sweetheart."

Gale instantly buried his face against your neck, lifting his exposed self for you.

"Good.." you cooed, beginning a slow pace to pump his cock again.

"Ohh, gods." His whined against your skin, his limit already close.

"Relax.." you whispered, kissing his temple, "Relax for me, darling. Take a deep breath, and let it out. Keep breathing."

Gale did as he was told. With each expell of air he loosened the muscles surrounding his asshole. The need growing to dizzying heights.

Pressure pushed against his rim as the finger glided halfway, he gasped and clenched unconsciously.

"Breathe, Gale." You soothed, pressing soft kisses to his face, "You're handling this so well."

Further and further you pushed inside him, delicious sensation flooding his body. His body tense and limp simultaneously, as the pleasure radiated through him from his pulsating walls.

"Fuck." He barely managed.

He kissed your neck and sucked down on the bite marks left by Astarion. He would make his own mark on you. One that everyone would see.

You gasped, your breath catching as you rolled your hips against him, teeth lightly nipping at his ear lobe.

Gale felt the friction of your other hand reaching down between you to stimulate your own release. His urge re-doubled in it's efforts to push him higher, intoxicated by your arousal.

He could feel your desperate movements between you, lightly grazing his testicles with the back of your hand.

You surprised him by gently pinching the head of him and thumbing the slit before initiating an unyielding, rapid rhythm wrapped around his cock. Synchronizing with curling the Mage hand towards his stomach, rubbing over the knot of his prostate.

A ragged, strained noise escaped from his throat as the sensations joined, assailing him from both sides.

He pushed back against the Mage hand, taking it's digit to the hilt.

"Oh yes, that's it. Enjoy it. It's for you.. all for you." You chorused his words to you, the words he used every night to pray to your false altar.

But now he had you, truly had you.. and you were spectacular.. you could not be formed into words.. you transcendend this mortal plane.. you were.. more than Godly.. you were-

A second finger penetrated him without refute and stretched his hole, doubling the pleasure against his sweet spot inside his ass, and he cried out in sheer bliss. Your hand wrapped around his cock, pumping in jubilant rhythm combined with the thrusting of the spell deep inside him.

The precipice of orgasm gripped him like a vice and choked him of all other need, apart from that to cum.

In that moment of blessed eternity, the world was narrowed down to nothing more than you and him. A vaccum in existence bathed in magical light.

Rapture split through every atom of his existence, building and climbing in a torrent of unstable energy.

"Yes, Gale-yes-come. Come with me."

His mouth open, panting like a rabid dog, he lost himself entirely.

He roared and strained and gasped, as he shot thick ropes all over your torso. His asshole squeezed and clenched tightly on the digits deliciously stuffed inside him working his orgasm longer. Your skilled hand milking every last drop from him.

He gulped for breath as you cried out underneath him, jerking against your own hand, breathless and exhilarated.

He watched you come undone underneath him, eyes screwed, mouth gaping, then biting down to quieten your moans.

Dear gods, you looked exquisite.

He reached a hand between you both to feel the after effects of your rhapsody, you twitched and laughed through a smile, as he stroked your sensitive sex in the wake of orgasm, riding you longer like you were to him.

"Stopstopstop-too much." You barely gasped against his sweat laden forehead.

There you lay, for what seemed like an easy age, together.

Aftershocks struck you both as you lay together in your joined euphoria.

The Mage hand had disappeared and left him feeling pleasantly sore from the hectic pace.

Gale pushed himself up onto his forearm, extracating his hand from between you. It was covered in your release, it glistened on his hand.

It was one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen. Something he hadn't fantasied.

He glanced back to you, you also held up your hand drenched in him.

You opened your mouth, clearing indicating to feast on yourself from his fingers. His tender cock twitched with desire.

He reciprocated his mouth and you swept your digits in his mouth. He tasted himself, licking his semen clean, as you suckled your own essence from his fingers, then pulled him in for a deep kiss.

Gale moaned at the melding of you both on mating tongues. It was pure sex and exhilaration. The desire and need. The fullfilment and warmth.

The kiss broke and you smiled at him, letting out a large breath.

"That was.." He started.

"Incredible." You finished.

"That's one of many words." He mused, laughing breathlessly.

Gale pushed himself up higher, "Oh, gods." He snorted, looking down at the scene of debauchery before him and kneeled onto his heels.

You and he were both covered in cum. It was obscene how licentiously delicious you looked painted with each other.

He remembered the first time he'd cum to your image, how hollow and alone he'd felt.

But not this time.

This time he felt complete.

Like a piece of him had hurried it's way back to him after so long apart.

"Well, that's one way to let off some steam." He chuckled darkly.

"I think it's hot." You smirked, biting down on your lower lip.

Gale swallowed with difficulty, "Careful you, that's dangerous."

Gale heaved out a breath and came to grips with what had just transpired between you both. How little his imagination had been able to conceive of you. What paltry figments had been the stars of his fantasies.

He glanced down upon you; hair mussed, sweat drying on your skin, clothes rumpled and he couldn't have loved you more.

"What?" You asked in a quiet voice.

Gale shook his head, "Nothing." He feigned.

He waved his hand with a simple somantic and the evidence was gone.

"Then come down here, I'm getting cold." You stroked your hands up his arms and enveloped him into an embrace that warmed all the lost parts of his soul.

"I meant it, Gale. I won't let you destory yourself for this. We'll find another way." You nestled yourself deeper into the hug.

Gale smiled contentedly from ear to ear, "I know we will.. because now I have something to live for."

•°•°•

Part 1

Psst.. Ive got a Masterlist too 👀

[sysmedsaresexist]

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

This is Mod Quill, but this is on behalf of a mutual friend of mine and Mod Dude's. Someone we care about a lot, and someone I'm not even going to fucking name here, because I am so fucking done with my friend suffering. Besides. You're going to know who it is if you have a lick of syscourse knowledge. I just hope they know what this might bring. If you're reading this, hon -- maybe just... delete your blogs and get out of syscourse. Make something new for yourself. Trust me, I've done that plenty of times.

Anyways.

@sophieinwonderland

Let's have a chat. Okay? I mean this completely, 1000 percent genuinely. I want to talk to you. WE want to talk to you. And we want to understand what the hell is going on with you.

Context: A friend of ours is in the hospital. This friend is in the hospital... likely because of you. Well, somewhat -- I'm not here to convince you that you, personally, are at fault for someone else's actions. You did not personally give them whatever implement of choice they used to nearly off themselves. But you have got to see that what you're doing -- what you've done for a very, very long time, causes people a lot of harm. And you have acknowledged it. Repeatedly.

You know that you do. You know you're hurting people. And you've shown constantly on your blog that you're okay with that.

This isn't the first time someone has been hospitalized after you took grievance with their tumblr blog. This is the second time someone has notably been hospitalized after interactions with you, and far from the last time someone's harmed themselves over you. I should know -- I'm a user who tried so desperately not to self harm, but you are the person who brought me to that point, many moons ago in a fit of hell and despair.

Don't worry, I'm all good -- it was barely anything. But it still stings emotionally, to this day.

The user in question who's currently hospitalized is not, and has not been stable, for a very long time. They're someone I hold dear, but I think we can all admit that people with DID sometimes struggle greatly with making really dumb choices. They've made a lot. This isn't the first time they've been in the hospital.

But Dude made a promise to them when it seemed like things were going to hell this time around, something to try and encourage things to go the right way.

Your named was tossed out too. Because of course it was. Like it or not, Sophie, you are 100% the biggest syscourser on Tumblr. You post the most and have the most followers. You are syscourse. And Dude's promise was to take syscourse down.

... But I don't think anyone in this situation really understands what that means.

Sophie, you are a person. Not a blog. Not a stance. Not a slogan, or a preacher, or whatever conspiracy you're trying to lean into next to explain away the angry actions you've shown more and more lately, to somehow explain why it's okay to say the things you've been saying, even when it sometimes, just maybe, seems like... you just don't want to.

As people may know, a (from my perspective, horrifically written, incredibly inaccurate, and only harmful) callout post for Sophie was recently posted to syscourse. What people don't know is that I, Mod Quill, was approached to help write it. Mod Dude was involved in the callout post as well, though to what extent I don't know.

I flat out refused to work on it. And that's because I knew exactly what would happen. I knew my friend would be hurt, or maybe even hospitalized over this. I knew that syscourse -- that Sophie -- would drive someone over the edge again. I knew that the document -- filled with inaccuracies and vaguities and nothingburgers to the max -- would be easy for Sophie to pick apart, easy to dismantle, and it would all start with debunking so much of the very real pain and suffering my friend has gone through.

And yeah.

I was right. Go figure. Maybe I should've done more, my brain inevitably says, I need to help everyone, I should've fought harder to prevent this... Dumbass brain.

Sigh.

Dude edit/addition: I knew the doc was coming, and while I won't say that I was supportive of it going out (I made the owner sit on it for several weeks), I made no effort to stop it. Having made my own callouts on sophie (and Quill, you have, too), I understood the need, and the positives and negatives. I knew Sophie could handle it. I was approached to read and check it, as my posts had been used in it. I even offered to help add to it, though... I ended up being completely unable to. I still can't actually remember anything in the doc. I'm doubting if I actually read it because it seems I retained nothing from it. This likely stems from the fact that I have been in contact with Sophie for several weeks now, getting to know her. I'm so incredibly conflicted on this topic that I chose to stay out of it publicly from start to finish, without comment or publicity. For the first time since I started my blog, I'm not feuding with anyone, I'm having such amazing conversations with people, I feel like I'm making more of a difference than ever before. Certain people have left me alone as I stayed under the drama radar.

I'm so tired of being angry...

My thoughts on the doc and sophie are complicated. I'm sorry to anyone that was hurt through my uncertainty. Instead of helping with the doc, we talked about life, experiences, medicalization, and I was... so happy. I don't think that I really thought beyond... "I wish I had spoken to some of these people sooner."

It's important to note that I don't blame the doc or author for any of this.

Syscourse, as a whole, does not address any sort of recovery, or help, or even just acknowledgement of the issues we are facing, as human beings, as systems, as people on this earth. It is just slinging words at each other with varying degrees of value. And I'll be the first to admit that I have relished that battleground. I have loved the feeling that I might be able to throw the right words or the right punches and get someone to either change, or deactivate. I've also wrestled with those feelings, tried to explain them away, mirroring what I see on Sophie's blog constantly.

But as more and more time goes on and I grow up and I see the damage that's done to me and my friends, I have grown to absolutely despise this place. I try my best to spread what joy I can. I also know it's really not enough.

Sophie, I have sent you, if I had to hazard a guess, at least 10 anons this past year, all of them variations on themes. Either positivity, begging you to take a break, or explaining to you in excruciating detail how I know you are hurting people, and why that hurts so badly. And... each and every single one of those have been met with dismissal. With that godforsaken shrug emoji that convinced me for years that you just... did not care, at all, about other people.

And this isn't just you. I know I'm coming at you, but that's because you are the biggest source of Syscourse Grief(tm) for this particular friend. But lord knows people get enemies here, that's just par for the course. So, this goes for everyone.

Learn to fucking care about each other, for fucks sakes.

God, this really is a ramble. I thank everyone who's bearing with me.

For syscourse in general: Stop. Just... stop. For those who are considering it, just stop for a bit, and witness. Watch. See what happens. Because the ones who are obstinate -- primarily the overly aggressive anti-endos and pro-endos -- will fling their vitriol at each other. It will just get worse and worse, and you can witness syscourse eat itself alive.

For my friend in the hospital: I've already given you some advice, but genuinely, I really, really hope you take care of yourself. I pray that, when you get back, you maybe set syscourse aside. At most, discord is there, and that seems to at least be tamer. But you are young. You have so much future ahead, and coming from someone who is (unfortunately seen as) an older system, I can promise you that it gets beter.

For Dude: GO TAKE A FUCKING BREAK. You are recently retraumatized, recently through a severe surgery, and you are out here promising shit like "I'll burn syscourse to the ground for you"??? Play a fun game and pay attention to your fucking partners, take a fucking break and take care of yourself. Syscourse will wait for you. People will come and people will go, and it doesn't fucking matter. Your life is what matters and I'm so fucking scared watching you obsess over this one, small aspect of it. I'm so relieved you went to that fun pokemon blog. You aren't alone, you are so loved, and don't let this toxic ass place make you forget that.

And Sophie.

I'm going to give Dude a link to send to you. You don't have to take it if you don't want to. You don't even need to acknowledge this if you don't want to. But I'm swinging the door open and offering the olive branch. I know you don't use Discord much, but for gods sake, it's better than Tumblr DMs, and we both know how Tumblr is a mess.

I really hope you'll take me up on it.

And for everyone else.

Wait till you see what happens next.

Edit from Mod Quill: Well, what's next is evidently a need for clarification and yet another callout post. Hello, callout-post author. Thank you for your clarifications. Notably, I attempted to keep your URL out of this, for those who didn't know.

Anyways, for the fullest disclosure and context: I was approached by Mod Dude, who asked if I wanted to participate in "Sophie Drama, Anonymously." I agreed, though I'll admit I was hesitant due to my particular issues with that user. I was then added to a group chat involving an enormous callout post. Notably, it should be mentioned, callout posts are a major trigger of ours that we are still working on overcoming.

I clicked the document and saw it was a mess of grammar mistakes, poor formatting, and impossible for me to read without trembling. But given that I already have an intense distaste for the user who posted it, I wasn't about to tell them more personal details about myself, and I did not want to communicate with them any further due to my own fear of the instability of all those involved. I told them I disliked the callout post due to harassment that it would cause, that I feel Sophie is a person, and that they had better have contacted the user who was hurt -- who is once again revealed in the callout, unfortunately.

I tried to laugh it off and move on, and take care of my mental health. That's what I was lamenting above; the fact that I didn't say more. I felt bad that I didn't allow myself to damage my mental health further to craft a callout post -- something I have tried desperately to avoid since the one I made the mistake of writing years ago about the very user you wrote this callout post about -- and something I get roped into constantly.

I privately read the rest of the document after it had been posted in full, as I still have access to it and it is a publicly posted document. It was filled with things that I found to be either nothing important in particular (things that have already been discussed numerous times) or things that would just be inflammatory (i.e. the OAS sections). I talked with a friend on Discord about the document, to which we both agreed it was bad.

To the OP of the document: I didn't say any of this at the time because, as I said, I felt uneasy and could not be in that group chat. I explicitly said I would not be touching "it" (the group chat). I was taking care of my mental health.

I refused to work on it because, based on my past experiences and triggers, which I do not owe you and still alluded to anyways in my conversations with you, I knew it would end poorly. I tried my best to sway you in the moment, but I was not able to do so because of my own mental health.

So, yes, to clarify: My grievances with the document were not made known to the one who posted it, whom I never mentioned in the original post. I do not condemn the poster of the document. I was simply making my feelings about callout posts known. What is above is not a condemnation of the callout writer, nor a comment on them at all. I genuinely did not want the point of this post to be lost due to callout-post drama.

So let me reiterate the important part of all of this.

This post was about the state of syscourse and how people do not approach syscourse in a good way. It is constantly slinging hate at people, which is never justified.

Learn to fucking care about each other, for fucks sakes.

---

Mod dude, here...

I want to add something to this, but I don't know what. I mean, Quill said it all, quite well.

Hurt people... Hurt other people.

I've made the attempt, over the last year or so, to actually talk to some of the bigger names in syscourse, the ones usually active in the tags, endos and antis alike.

It reinforced that... we're all just fucking people, trying to get by.

Antis, have you even tried to empathize with the community you attack so quickly and cruelly? Imagine if people said those things to you or about CDD systems. Have you, personally, witnessed the things you claim are happening? Because I've been here a lot longer, and it seems you're making shit up. Consider that you should stop parroting everything you hear and stick to what you're actually seeing with your own eyes.

Endos, please don't forget that these are severely traumatized individuals that have probably never even been to therapy yet. If you're not yet, maybe you should get into therapy-- it doesn't automatically mean there's anything wrong, but everyone could use someone to talk to, and seeing what it's like could be really beneficial to understanding the other side and getting an unbiased view of your own behavior and beliefs.

These are real fucking people that are ending up in the hospital.

Quill, the rest of my mods, and I are real fucking people behind these screens.

Sophie is a real person. They just got a new dish washer that they saw on Circ's blog, I missed it, but she linked it to me, and now I'm looking at it. She's going to let me know how it works.

And you know what? This little countertop dishwasher feels a hell of a lot more real and important than anything in syscourse.

As Quill mentioned, I just went through a major surgery. I'm learning that...

I'll probably never be able to walk properly again. My life is forever changed, and I'm really struggling.

My cat just... passed. Feel free to go like that post, it would mean a lot to me.

None of you know that. The people who leaked my main and smeared my wonderful name don't know that.

Sophie didn't know that the last time we fought each other.

My friend didn't know that when I promised him I would bring syscourse down.

Maybe bringing it down isn't the answer.

Maybe just reminding you all that we're all people behind the screen is enough.

Fucking TALK to each other.

Make an attempt to learn and understand.

Talk about things that actually matter.

Grow the FUCK up.

Reblog to share a hug, because that's more worthwhile.

And most importantly.

Please keep our friend in mind while they're in the hospital.

Syscourse community, endos and antis, this is one of our own. A person you've likely interacted with before, that you've seen around.

We exist in this small bubble, all together. Whether we like it or not.

[autismbeamattack]

Unfinished small fic of Murderbot and ART getting jumpscared and then fighting about it

...

I will reorganize, of course, ART said.

"Like hell you will."

It is only logical that-

"Fuck you and your logic."

...

So, I was pissed. If you couldn't tell.

I got annoyed with ART over minor differences of opinion about media all the time, that was nothing new. Sometimes it was even fun, like pointing out all the ways ART was wrong about Sunny's motivations for botching their own self-sacrifice ritual to their cult's fauna deity in The Yester-years of the Blood Collective, a new comedy-horror serial we were trying out. ART was convinced that Sunny subconsciously messed up the ritual even though it was pretty obvious it was a pro-conscious decision (I'm not looking up if that's a real word, you get what I mean) as a plot to push their younger sibling to the top of the cult hierarchy for promotion. It was clearly a set up, but try telling ART that.

Gore horror wasn't usually my thing, and it definitely was not ART's thing, but the ways the humans kept dying were so unrealistic and bad that it was almost funny. Also they never stayed dead because of the aforementioned fauna deity resurrecting them all constantly. The "deaths" just looked like how juvenile humans liked to play dead sometimes, with overdramatic groans and sticking their tongues out to indicate they were "dead for real this time." It was a decently safe show, despite the horror tags.

I'm going to be the more mature person here and admit that maybe, despite it being "decently safe, for horror," we were both a little on edge from all the killing and blood and stuff going on. Even if it was hilariously bad. After twelve episodes of near constant stabbing and backstabbing and back-backstabbing, all of which I mean literally by the way, it was feeling less fun and more irritating. But I wanted to know if Sunny reconciled with their younger sibling after their pro-conscious plot was found out (I knew it), so I kept watching. Maybe that was the first mistake, because ART was taking in my reactions too through my filters, and I had been too invested to really detangle all those irritated emotions from real life and the show. (Hey, I'm admitting it now, okay? Progress.)

So ART was also a little irritated and on edge about the blood, probably on top of its uneasiness about the violence that it could generate on its own without the help of my filters, when the show's first and untagged jumpscare triggered an extremely embarrassing adrenaline dump in my organics. That ART also got to experience via me.

I had a brief millisecond to feel this already unpleasant experience on my own before my brain was flattened by ART's reaction to my reaction. Way too much of its presence instantly flooded into the feed and I was distantly aware of feeling like all the air was forced out of my body. I heard a 'thunk' as I tipped over and my head hit the wall next to my bunk.

ART shut down the show 0.17 seconds into the jumpscare. After a second to recover my processes, I shoved the show back into our shared feed only for ART to bat it down in 0.3 seconds. It could been faster than that, enough that from my perspective it would look like nothing had shown up at all, but it wanted me to see that it was batting it away and how annoyed it was about it. That was enough to piss me off way more than it should have.

"Just play the damn show," I said out loud, mostly to force my lung to work properly again.

"No," ART also said out loud through its speakers, because it was an asshole.

I switched to the feed. ART.

SecUnit, it mimicked in the same tone.

That did it. Maybe it was all the adrenaline that had decided to flood my systems that I was still in the process of purging, but I felt like fighting.

[crithaus]

I'm into jjk now and it kiiiiills me how despite all his dickheadery and bluster, satoru gojo really just submits to the idea that he's a tool for jujutsu society to use, he's a good soldier like the best soldier and when the orders given nine times outta 10 he'll jump. None of this is new information to yall but it's new to me goddamnit

it makes me sad as hell, sometimes he's fully aware of the chains around his neck, sometimes he'll be tugging to little avail and sometimes he's just docile about it, mocking the higher ups asses is as disrespectful as he'll be, and the real gag I think is it takes suguru defecting for satoru to even start disobeying direct orders. Riko shows up, he's like ah it's time for you to fulfill your role just like me girlie aha have fun experiencing the Horrors of being Us™️, then he's told nah let her have fun on her last days out in the world Mr. Regularly-gets-bounties-put-on-his-ass and is initially like ew no wym what about the Horrors, what about our jobs??? And ofc suguru is like no baby let her have some fun and satoru is like yessir ofc as you say and immediately commits to staying up however long riko is outside of warded walls on non-stop surveillance and this being before he gets RCT mind so as shoko later on says he's constantly at risk of frying his brain up bad right

Like and him seeing riko be sad at her brief time being human come to a close capitulates even harder and that's so sweet but it's still well in line w his orders while suguru is the one to decide aaaactually this shit is stupid, we aren't leading you to the alter little miss lamb, like I fully believe suguru could convince him eventually if they'd ever had a chance to talk BT, before Toji, but I think it'd be an aaaaargument, course he snaps back with the hey let's start slaughtering fools afterwards and suguru uses his last coin of common sense to stop that but it kinda snuffs the biggest flame of rebellion in gojo for a while, like yea gojo (and geto) is absolutely right that it's way smarter in their situation to work to undermine the higher ups and raise a better generation that'll raise in turn a better generation rather than dodge burn and murder everyone who disagrees with him, but also as maki proves sometimes some Action is Necessary, like gojo is on call all day everyday and still his most rebellious moments are Actually Doing his Job and putting suguru down because its necessary and time for it and done with respect and love and ish and not bc hes been ordered to do it, and protecting his boys from getting executed, small shit tbh drops in the bucket,

satoru is a good man but he was raised to be a good soldier first with the good man being kinda shoved in while suguru still had the ability and habit in him and no matter how much gojo grows and rebels that kick is always looming over him and ARGH it drives me up walls I'll throw up right this very second, jujutsu society is so so evil for chewing those kids up like that

[thelostgirl21]

English Translators: "Jaskier" translates as "Buttercup", but we can't just let a manly man use "Buttercup" as his nickname! That's way too feminine, and our readers would be horrified! Let's call him "Dandelion" instead. Yes, much better... Mucho macho...

Netflix & Joey Batey: Yeah, no. We'll just call him Buttercup by keeping the original Polish name, i.e. Jaskier.

So, this is our very own Prince Buttercup. He's a damoiseau in distress that's regularly in need of being rescued, enjoys chatting with animals, and might randomly break into song.

He feels very comfortable asking a strong, stoic, muscular man to accompany him to the Royal Ball for protection, and will attempt to convince him by rubbing chamomile onto his lovely bottom, giving him a bath, washing his stupid hair, and dressing him up in stylish, fine clothing.

He tends to see the good in everyone, and will spontaneously attempt to become friends with things that want to eat him (both figuratively and literally).

However he can occasionally become pretty condescending with commoners, and treat those that fail to appreciate his talent as beneath him; often with a complete disregard for his personal safety, as if it doesn't seem to occur to him right away that they'd actually dare lay their filthy hands on him.

He cries very pretty (so pretty), and will look at you with gorgeous doe eyes when he feels sad, hurt, scared, or needs a favor.

He's very distrustful and afraid of power-hungry sexy witches coming at him from many different angles, until they stop being all predatory and menacing, and begin rescuing and protecting him instead.

He gets along very well with other princes/princesses, and will resent not being invited to one of the most important social events of the Continent, but not getting to spend more time with them.

And he never experienced what romantic love truly was until he finally got to meet his very own Prince.

Obviously, Prince Radovid fell in love with our Buttercup at first sight, and was willing to give up his Kingdom for a chance to be by his side.

And as far as Prince Buttercup is concerned, he sees himself as a

because that's simply who he is, and that's also what masculinity looks like.

So, unless Jaskier, in the books, is a very insecure man that constantly worries about being mistaken for a woman, I can't help but find it hilarious that the translators of the books, in English, got so worried over "Buttercup" sounding feminine...

...when the character himself likely wouldn't have been bothered by the way it sounds in the least, and would totally have rocked that nickname while making it work perfectly for a guy!

Hell! As a non-native English speaker, other than the fact that I've seen the movie "The Princess Bride", and the princess in it was named "Buttercup", my brain does not at all perceive "Buttercup" as inherently feminine, nor "Dandelion" as inherently masculine.

Perhaps because, in French, each word has its own gender, and "bouton d'or" (i.e. "buttercup", but the literal translation would be "button made of gold") is masculine.

Un bouton d'or (a buttercup) is masculine.

Un pissenlit (a dandelion) is masculine.

Une rose (a rose) is feminine.

Une tulippe (a tulip) is feminine.

Etc.

"Princess Buttercup" is thus named "Princesse Bouton d'or" (it's actually the title of the movie) in French.

But "Bouton d'or" (Buttercup) is, by itself, a masculine word.

The funny thing is that, where I'm from, I think the dandelion is literally the single most hated flower I can think of.

When I was a kid, my parents - and pretty much all our neighbors - spent countless hours trying to remove every single dandelion they could find on their lawn and in their garden while making sure to fully eliminate the whole root, because they tended to replace all the grass, and some of the other flowers and plants from their garden.

Some of our neighbors had their lawns treated with very harsh chemicals (many of which are thankfully illegal today) in a desperate effort to get rid of them.

Dandelion always makes allergy season a complete and utter nightmare, makes it harder to breathe outside (those floating bits clouding the air always get stuck in your nose, throat or even eyes), it also clogs the air filter of your car...

And, when you cut them at the stem, your hands wind up all sticky and smelling awful.

Unless they want to make a point that they'll be extremely annoying, unwanted, sticky, smelly, trying to get into every single exposed orifice of your body as soon as you're exposed to them, and hard to get rid of, why would anyone ever wish to nickname themselves "dandelion"?

I mean, "pissenlit", the French name for "dandelion", comes from "pisse-en-lit" and literally means "peeing-in-bed".

Because if you eat dandelion leaves, they will make you pee and wet your bed (they have a strong diuretic effect).

Yes, we hate the dandelion so much, that we've decided to name that freaking flower "peeing-in-bed".

So, if you go from the original Polish name to the English translation of the name, and then translate the English name back to French...

You've essentially replaced:

Jaskier - > Buttercup - > Button made of gold (Bouton d'or).

By

Jaskier - > Dandelion - > Peeing-in-bed (Pissenlit).

It's hilarious!

All because some English translator got scared "Buttercup" would sound "too feminine".

The good news is that we kept Jaskier's name as "Jaskier" in the French translation of the books and the games. Although Bouton d'or would have worked just fine.

But yeah, come on! Jaskier would have made a beautiful Buttercup!

#the art of creating some gender issue where there's none.

When in doubt, just ask the character...

Would Jaskier have had what it took to call himself a "Buttercup"?

You bet your lovely bottom and bloated biceps he would have!

Still can't wrap my mind around him being a peeing-in-bed flower in English... Just... Nope! Does not compute.

[jessaerys]

Opinions on DirkRose?

so when i was 16-18 in high school i was briefly in this very tightknit three person online friend group with me + this extremely popular homestuck artist at the time + their best friend that i quickly developed a crush on. and this online friend roleplayed dirk at the same time i was roleplaying rose (a rose from the same timeline as whom is probably the most famous dave strider roleplayer in the history of homestuck rp. but that nuclear fallout is a story for another day) in the wild wild west that was the 2012 homestuck rp landscape on tumblr (aka the multiple timelines theory)(at some point my rose was involved with, like, a marius pontmercy. yes from les mis. and also a genderbent rose in an ambiguous almost selfcest situationship.)

anyway so i asked her if she wanted to ship our rp characters which was very "baby's first time asking for what they want" of me, and she said yes, and dirk and rose wrote each other a couple of inter-dimensional letters that were quite beautiful and poignant at least in my memory. the vibe was "very traumatized young adults find an equally jaded and verbose kindred spirit and they tentatively show each other the vulnerable side that they can't show anyone else through the safe distance of penpalship" so of course the rp brain chemicals were INTENSE (by the way the three of us were in a slightly larger skype group chat with a couple of other tumblr friends, whom ocassionally would make "you and alex should date lol!" jokes. my fragile teenage psyche was convinced it was going to happen)

but anyway the writing was super slow and i knew that this friend was much more into dirkjake (and VERY hung up on our other friend/her best friend) but whenever i could hold her attention she seemed to be interested in our writing

her dirk had a poetry sideblog (i want to say cringe in retrospect but honestly. at the time i thought it was some elevated literary use of the medium. and it probably was) and i would check it CONSTANTLY trying to decipher if anything new dirk posted was about my rose, but the posts were too vague for solid conclusions

anyway long story short for what was probably somewhere between months and a year (can't recall) i lived in that rp brain chemical addiction thrill-of-the-chase hell state surviving on kernels of character interactions and fantasies about dirk and rose, like i'm talking emotional-support OTP levels of emotional investment. the daily emotional rollercoaster was insane. it would make or break my day depending on what vague poetry dirk strider posted

until ONE DAY.... I FOUND OUT.... she had been rping dirkjake with our OTHER friend/her best friend for a while AND JUST DIDN'T TELL ME. BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T WANT TO UPSET ME. I WAS HEARTBROKEN (these weren't multishipping type blogs. you had one character timeline and by god you stuck to it)

i legitimately do not recall what i did re: the dirk ordeal, but i do remember that at some point (the timeline in relation to the rp drama is long lost to the sands of time) i confessed and she rejected me and i felt soooo led on which was probably a product of this friend being so conflict averse. i was in a crying or close-to-tears state for about a day and a half which i recall very vividly because at the time it was by FAR the biggest social heartbreak of my life. a solid 36 hours of "i'm going to feel like this FOREVER and my heart will never HEAL" teenage angst. i remember it so viscerally lol. especially because my parents straight up didn't notice. but that's an entirely different can of baggage

anyway eventually i met my then-girlfriend and the three person friend group drifted apart. much later i found out they had felt soooo betrayed but what was i supposed to do. third wheel them as the least important person in the group forever??? i think at some point the three of us hung out together for an afternoon when we happened to be in the same city but it must have been completely unremarkable because i don't remember any of it.

anyway what was the question again. yeah dirkrose is fine

[the-bren-system]

Neurodivergent households are great when everyone's brain worms move in sync but if they're not it's difficult. BUT it's still worth it.

Rambling rambling rambling

Like... One of our housemates has a strong comorbidity between OCD and ADHD that causes her to live in a cycle of impulse and self-abuse and it took about 7 months of weekly conversations for us to convince her to get herself a bed frame. But it's taking even longer to convince her to get a rail for her clothing. (her clothes are in piles in the living room which is horribly overwhelming and causes things to get lost constantly)

And the thing is, you can't just confront someone abt self-sabotage or they'll double down on it. So we have to use more subtle methods to teach her how to allow herself basic comforts in life.

And we know enough abt her traumas to understand where it all comes from. It's difficult stuff that isn't her fault.

On one hand, it drives us insane bc her bad habits are extremely triggering. On the other, every time she makes a change for the better we feel proud of her.

Still, it's shocking how much help she needs. She's got a degree and a good job in her field, but still struggles to take care of herself. The amount of neglect that someone has to grow up with to end up like this... It actually is draining to think about.

The fact she got through University with these kinds of mental health struggles is impressive. The fact she landed a good ecologist job is impressive. I just wish she would let herself live in comfort instead of ruining her own life in small but severe ways twice a week.

Especially because it means the house is left in a state that triggers horrible emotional flashbacks in me. The last time I was living in a house that was this messy was when I was in a domestically abusive relationship, trapped in lockdown with an aspiring serial killer who used to make threats with knives and once gave me a serious ribcage injury. I don't need to be reminded of that situation 6 times a week. I don't need to feel deeply vigilant and angry every time I go downstairs to make a meal or something.

We're still focused on helping her bc being constructive is more practical. It's better in the long run to be helpful and to not get too angry. (we make an effort to manage our anger so we don't end up triggering more self-sabotaging from her, because if we act scary or whatever she will take it out on herself)

It's a delicate balance, you know, but when someone else is suffering really badly that means both of us have to adjust to each other's needs. She has to learn to stop sabotaging the household, we have to be patient in our approach so she can learn that.

We're learning to better help people who have grown up neglected, whole she's learning to understand and respect people who have been abused. We're building bridges, really, and building takes effort. She works on herself, finds more comfort with herself and also learns some perspective. We get to understand her, help her, and feel somewhat fulfilled about that.

People like me are naturally inclined to be more aloof and unserious and detached, people like her are more inclined to be self-deprecating and reckless, but we can both help each other to grow in different ways. Sometimes sitting down with her to give an emotional debrief and help her understand her own emotions and needs is enriching for us - it's an opportunity to use our analytical thinking in a helpful way and I'm glad we have the chance to help out.

I won't choose to blame her for the issues she's got; I'll sure as hell give her the advice and the tools she needs to get out of the mess she's in. I'll pass on the things I've learned the hard way so she doesn't have to learn them painfully. That's what found family means for traumatised people.

- Toby

[lawlightautismtruther]

All I ever hear when talking with the girls (am I 100% girl? No, and that might be why I feel the disconnect here) is the following

- he’s so tall and big and muscular and deep voiced and UHHHH I WANT HIM TO RAIL MEEEEE

And I’m just like “good for you. Where’s my 5’5” 110 angel of a male, whom I want to carry around princess style to our king sized bed” and they all just look at me like

😨

Like are yall not aware that not EVERYONE is like you??!!!

Like I have no problem with how other people experience sexual attraction, obviously I don’t. That would be hypocritical as hell because people tend to have a problem with how I experience it (note I live in the evangelical American south and the internet is the only place that gets me) but I wish (and I’m the 10000000th person to express this, which goes to show how behind we still are) that women/women-adjacent people were ALLOWED to be masculine and be attracted to femininity without being ostracized and made to feel embarrassed. Especially for lesbians, but also for people like me. I feel like people around here can actually conceptualize a sapphic relationship better than the type of relationship I seek (but they accept neither, unfortunately).

I fear what would happen if they learned I was bi 😩

I’m not emotionally attracted to women (it’s a sexual thing), so I’d end up with a man anyway, but the JUDGEMENT I would still receive from these prehistoric brained people is CRAZY. I feel especially for lesbians and gay people because I know it’s 1000000x harder on them, even if people can conceptualize them better, they hate them even more.

Like, I constantly receive the “well if you’re so attracted to “sissy-boys” why aren’t you just a lesbian?” Which is SO stupid because it implies two really fucking idiotic ideas

1. Sexuality is a choice (specifically, gay people choose to be gay)

2. Being attracted exclusively to femininity = (or at least should equal) being attracted exclusively to women (and the inverse, which is often used to invalidate masc attracted lesbians as jaded straight women or something stupid like that)

WHEN WILL THESE PEOPLE GRASP NUANCE AND VARIANCE IN SEX/GENDER EXPRESSION AND EXPERIENCE.

I know a lot of it is the Bible and Christian culture (which is barely even in the Bible at all), but they break the rules and conventions of it EVERYDAY and find a way to justify it. Yet they can never justify people like me who aren’t harming ANYBODY

Which is proof it’s not 100% about religion, even if they’re consciously convinced it is. It’s about prejudice and ignorance.

what I’ll never understand is the motivation a lot of these people give me for being so obsessed with gender essentialism and policing others “the death of masculinity and femininity in men and women respectively will lead to the downfall of society”

LIKE BROTHER SOURCE PLEASE?!! WHATS YOUR SOURCE HELP

And for the love of God, don’t say the Bible. I’m a Christian myself, actually. But I am fully aware that the Bible was never supposed to be a source for ANYTHING. It’s simply a collection of relevant  documents to the history of our faith. That’s it.

GIVE ME A SCIENTIFIC STUDY AND MAYBE I’LL TAKE YOU A LITTLE MORE SERIOUSLY FOR ONCE (but that will never happen, so by default I will never take these people seriously. Also because if gender variance were an issue, God wouldn’t have made me (and millions of others) the way I am. There are actual problems in this world to worry about, so stop trying to convince me that by “acting like a man” and preferring men who “act like women” I’m contributing to the destruction of society. To be honest, I hope I’m contributing to the downfall of society, because this one stinks). Instead, target the rapists, the murderers, the pedos, the human traffickers, the child exploiters, the money hoarding ultra-rich, the fascists, the racists, the sexists, the homophobes, the supremacists, the nazis, the liars, the cheaters, and the media that promotes them. But most of these people are too far gone to see what’s wrong with the above. So I’m ranting about it all here in this echo chamber. I have no choice.

[gossipaboutelonmusk]

That time Grimes made a reddit post about how abusive Elon is.... Allegedly.

My (31f) boyfriend (49m) convinced me that we needed to stop talking to my mom. I figured out why and it's messing me up

relationship_advice

Original

throwRA-shifte

6216 2020-05-18 22:30:21

**edit: I decided it's in my best interest to delete the contents of this post.

Everything is under control, thank you all for all your help. Much appreciated.**

Going to do bullet points so this doesn't get to be 100000000 pages long. Also, the title is like, the tip of the iceberg so buckle up I guess

Also I have been up since 4 on 2 hours of sleep and my brain is fried all the time so bear with me pls be nice to me

together for almost 3 years

got pregnant unexpectedly; had a super difficult pregnancy with many complications including severe HG, bleeding, finding out I have a gene mutation that causes pregnancy complications and birth defects. We broke up at the beginning of my pregnancy because he thought I was being dramatic about the HG and refused to take me to the hospital. After i was taken to the hospital and the doctors told him how close to dying I had been he realised he'd been stupid and we reconciled.

I was in labor for almost 60 hours, things didn't progress properly, there were complications, I finally had an emergency c section. Baby was born on Star Wars day 🌟

recovery has been completely awful for me and once again my boyfriend has decided I'm being dramatic because "(Son) is an easy baby". This somehow doesn't cure my continued nausea, pain from having my abdomen opened and then stitched shut, rock hard boobs and sleep deprivation but thanks I guess. He changes diapers and holds/plays with baby when he's not working or fucking around on the internet.

So the stuff about my mom:

Shortly after we reconciled, he and my mom had a disagreement about something. At the time he told me that she was being toxic and trying to meddle in our relationship and that it was better if we ceased communication. He showed me screenshots from his phone that at the time seemed fairly convincing. My mom isn't crazy about him anyway, and she'd made no secret about that when we were separated, so even though I was surprised by the things "she" was saying I did believe him (and stupidly felt like it was the right thing to do to make things work with him).

It bothered me that he was constantly asking me if I had been talking to her and that he was paranoid about it but I was like well, what she said was really hurtful (basically that he was abusing me but that I was too stupid to see it and that she was going to come take our baby away so he wouldn't be raised by him), so I understand.

A couple of days ago I overheard him talking about me on a discord voice chat, basically complaining that I was being lazy and useless since I gave birth and that it was my "job" so I needed to suck it up and do it. I didn't let him know that I had overheard, but I was upset. Later on we were in the bedroom and the baby was losing his mind and I was having trouble getting him to latch and I was in so much pain and I just started crying and saying I wanted my mom. He snapped at me that my mom had filled my head with feminist garbage my whole life and that was why I was weak and couldn't handle something women had been doing for thousands of years. I was kind of floored. I'd never heard him say anything like that before. I told him he needed to leave and go sleep elsewhere because I was really hurt.

When he went to work the next morning I decided to call my mom and to see what the hell he has been doing on the internet, because I felt like that was the logical step to take.

I was not that surprised to find that he'd been on men's rights type websites (if you agree with that fine whatever) and was using them to express his frustration that although he'd thought he'd found an ideal young partner who would have babies and turn into an ideal housewife (which was so weird to read because I feel like I'm the furthest thing from some housewife type and I'm not shy about that, I guess my mom has been filling my head with feminist garbage my whole life after all 😂. When we first met it seemed like we had lots of shared interests and ideas and he enjoyed my independence), but that pregnancy had made me gross and useless and then giving birth made me even worse, saying the only good thing about me was that I had a boy my first go.

I was pretty surprised however to learn that the original conversation he and my mom had was about his attitude toward me but had nothing to do with him being abusive and she never threatened to take the baby, she just suggested to him that if he really loved me he would support me and be there for me. He told HER she'd never speak to me again and that she'd never meet her grandchild. She forwarded me the conversations.

I'm not wrong in thinking this is all totally fucked up, right? There's absolutely no saving a relationship like this? I know it seems pretty cut and dry when it's all laid out but like...I just need someone to give me some advice on what to do, where to go from here?

Edit: I'm okay and everything is okay but I may be quiet/slow to reply while I get some things sorted out. Thank you for all your advice.

Going to do bullet points so this doesn't get to be 100000000 pages long. Also, the title is like, the tip of the iceberg so buckle up I guess

Also I have been up since 4 on 2 hours of sleep and my brain is fried all the time so bear with me pls be nice to me

together for almost 3 years

got pregnant unexpectedly; had a super difficult pregnancy with many complications including severe HG, bleeding, finding out I have a gene mutation that causes pregnancy complications and birth defects. We broke up at the beginning of my pregnancy because he thought I was being dramatic about the HG and refused to take me to the hospital. After i was taken to the hospital and the doctors told him how close to dying I had been he realised he'd been stupid and we reconciled.

I was in labor for almost 60 hours, things didn't progress properly, there were complications, I finally had an emergency c section. Baby was born on Star Wars day 🌟

recovery has been completely awful for me and once again my boyfriend has decided I'm being dramatic because "(Son) is an easy baby". This somehow doesn't cure my continued nausea, pain from having my abdomen opened and then stitched shut, rock hard boobs and sleep deprivation but thanks I guess. He changes diapers and holds/plays with baby when he's not working or fucking around on the internet.

So the stuff about my mom:

Shortly after we reconciled, he and my mom had a disagreement about something. At the time he told me that she was being toxic and trying to meddle in our relationship and that it was better if we ceased communication. He showed me screenshots from his phone that at the time seemed fairly convincing. My mom isn't crazy about him anyway, and she'd made no secret about that when we were separated, so even though I was surprised by the things "she" was saying I did believe him (and stupidly felt like it was the right thing to do to make things work with him).

It bothered me that he was constantly asking me if I had been talking to her and that he was paranoid about it but I was like well, what she said was really hurtful (basically that he was abusing me but that I was too stupid to see it and that she was going to come take our baby away so he wouldn't be raised by him), so I understand.

A couple of days ago I overheard him talking about me on a discord voice chat, basically complaining that I was being lazy and useless since I gave birth and that it was my "job" so I needed to suck it up and do it. I didn't let him know that I had overheard, but I was upset. Later on we were in the bedroom and the baby was losing his mind and I was having trouble getting him to latch and I was in so much pain and I just started crying and saying I wanted my mom. He snapped at me that my mom had filled my head with feminist garbage my whole life and that was why I was weak and couldn't handle something women had been doing for thousands of years. I was kind of floored. I'd never heard him say anything like that before. I told him he needed to leave and go sleep elsewhere because I was really hurt.

When he went to work the next morning I decided to call my mom and to see what the hell he has been doing on the internet, because I felt like that was the logical step to take.

I was not that surprised to find that he'd been on men's rights type websites (if you agree with that fine whatever) and was using them to express his frustration that although he'd thought he'd found an ideal young partner who would have babies and turn into an ideal housewife (which was so weird to read because I feel like I'm the furthest thing from some housewife type and I'm not shy about that, I guess my mom has been filling my head with feminist garbage my whole life after all 😂. When we first met it seemed like we had lots of shared interests and ideas and he enjoyed my independence), but that pregnancy had made me gross and useless and then giving birth made me even worse, saying the only good thing about me was that I had a boy my first go.

I was pretty surprised however to learn that the original conversation he and my mom had was about his attitude toward me but had nothing to do with him being abusive and she never threatened to take the baby, she just suggested to him that if he really loved me he would support me and be there for me. He told HER she'd never speak to me again and that she'd never meet her grandchild. She forwarded me the conversations.

Notes:

Source

Worth reading the comments section posted in the link.

 Also, this article is a pretty good synopsis.

[unhinged-transmasc]

been thinking somewhat on like. transandrophobia discourse and like. really it all just feels like a matter of being prickly over semantics. almost everyone can agree transmascs do experience some form of gender-based oppression. but whether we call it misogyny, transphobia, transandrophobia, etc -- complaining about what terms we use to describe that oppression just feels like a red herring argument, detracting from the real point.

so what if trans men don't "actually experience misogyny" because we're men and not women, still doesn't change the fact that we experience some kind of oppression based on often being perceived as women by society, no matter what you wanna call it. or "transandrophobia" doesn't exist because that implies "androphobia" is a form of oppression or whatever. at the end of the day they're words we use to varying degrees to describe the very real phenomenon of being oppressed, discriminated, and hurt for our gender.

how do you call my mother lamenting over the fact i was trans and trying to convince me i was meant to be a girl? me being called slurs all the time for being openly trans/gender nonconforming as an online presence with a decently large audience back then? how do you call me being fetishized/objectified while being more femme-presenting? what do we call that? it's still a fact that trauma exists. why argue over the words we want to use to describe it. why make pointless arguments about how misogyny "doesn't" affect trans men or how androphobia/misandry "doesn't exist" when that's absolutely not the point of the post.

is it a perfect terminology? debatable. but that's not the issue. use a bit of brains and think about what it means to be born and raised female in this society, and how you might be treated if you turned your entire life around by being transgender and acting upon the desire to transition. constantly telling people you're a boy and you go by another name, or maybe being so afraid to tell them. being told what a boy and girl should be, becoming so goddamn acutely aware of how stiflingly binary this world is. the multitudes of ways people can treat you in that position. hell, transphobes have a huge violent aversion to masculine presenting people having "female" bodily functions. people constantly called me slurs and degraded me/harassed me for being a boy with a "girl" voice, and later on being a boy with that "transmasc few months on T" voice (as a singer online). if you have a problem with whatever we call that phenomenon, that experience, that issue, let it go. drop it. just think about the issue itself. and maybe realize there's much more in common with the trans experience in general and that's why we have fucking got to stand up for each other instead of dismissing one anothers' trauma. in THIS fucking political climate? we cannot afford that.

[faller-fears]

Hard to kill

Uh-- name's Fennec. Probably. I mean, it's the one I'm using right now, you know? Sorry, sorry, it's just-- it's weird, okay? You know how it is. There's the deadname, the name I tried out for a while but it didn't click, the name for friends only, the online name, the fursona--

Fennec Mortimer is fine. Well. Anyways. Today's....friday, I think? Yeah. Statement begins?

So, I guess I've always been kind of an adrenaline junkie. As a kid, I was always that weird little girl who hung out with the boys and climbed trees, but I went faster and higher than any of them. Hated skirts, not 'cause they were girly but because they were impractical, same with hair long enough to grab.

When Plasma was active, I was almost old enough to go on a journey, in my mind, but I wasn't allowed to, because, you know. Moms have this gossip grapevine, and she'd heard that a friend of hers had a daughter whose pokemon had been stolen by Plasma. They got it back, in the end, and the girl ended up settling down as a lab assistant, but the point is...well. My ten year old brain was convinced that if I just harassed enough grunts with flaming pinecone molotovs, they would all explode into sparkles and I'd suddenly be allowed to go on my journey.

I think mom was hoping that me coming out as a boy would make me calm down. She walked me through all the legal and medical stuff, got me a haircut and dye, even called Dad back from his work in Kanto so we could have some proper father-son bonding. And it was great, don't get me wrong! It just... I dunno. Didn't satisfy that urge.

Neither did my journey, really. I just... gods, how do I even explain it? It felt like there was something missing. I couldn't explain this gaping hole in my life, for something I didn't know the words for. I needed more, and I needed it constantly, and I was always vibrating with this...need.

Anyways. I got into urban exploration after a lot of wandering places I shouldn't have been, and I think mom was relieved. She got into it too-- got me a proper dust mask to filter out stuff, a sturdy pair of boots, and a first aid kit. When my friend Sol suggested we start a poketube and record ourselves, I'm pretty sure my mom slipped some money to them out of sheer relief. It meant we'd be going safe places, taking video, and she'd have some semblance of an idea where I'd been.

Well. Our first video was the old Plasma castle, see. I'd fucked around in the Unova underground enough to find an entrance, and it seemed stable enough, so we were getting to a part that was off limits to the public. Dist, it might not have been a place that anyone had seen for ages! So yeah, we were excited to go down there. Maybe mom didn't know about the whole secret base we'd set up underground, but she'd be happy that I was getting out and doing something marginally less stupid than usual.

I didn't wear the mask. I know, I know, stupid, but listen-- gender euphoria is a hell of a drug, and I'd somehow gotten it into my head that if I wasn't wearing the dust mask, maybe I'd start growing hair on my face instead of my-- you know what, that's not going in the official log. I wanted facial hair, is the point.

We pushed our way in and started recording-- introduced ourselves, had a silly little moment or two, then started walking. We were in one of the lower hallways, where the grunts had lived, and it was lined wall to wall with old tapestries and hanging fabric to insulate it.

They just... lived underground like drilbur. Kind of fucked up, seeing so many of them in the aftermath, pasty pale and blinking like they'd never seen so much daylight. Also kind of fucked up that they were just allowed to walk free after the shit they pulled, but I guess my beef's not with the grunts. Not really.

I knew, vaguely, that they were some kind of cult who'd been taught a revisionist history, that Reshiram was some great hero and Zekrom was the lesser jealous villain, but this... cemented it. Suddenly it was like we were walking with the memories of real people, in that hallway full of tapestries.

And most of them were burned. Not completely, just... bits and pieces. Precise. As we went on, we started to notice the patterns. A lot of the tapestries were just...everyday stuff, people going about their lives, woman posing with her skitty stuffed in a silly dress, bunch of guys eating dinner together.

The burn marks were just... I mean, I thought they were chemical burns at first. They bleached the surrounding threads a pure white, but they smelled no different than actual burned fabric. And I would, unfortunately, know what burned fabric smelled like. I didn't process what was being burned out at first until I saw a tapestry of a classroom-- one room schoolhouse kind of thing. And every single child was bleached white and burned through, leaving a swiss cheese mess of empty desks and scenery.

I wish I knew what happened next. But in all honesty, there wasn't even panic or darkness or any warning, I was just staring at the ceiling, like I'd spaced out. And I started to realize that someone was yelling my name.

I....should have panicked. I mean. It looked like some kind of torture dungeon, exactly the kind of thing you'd see in a cult. Sol was...locked in some kind of cage. I dunno, I was strapped down to a table and couldn't really turn my head. But it felt right, somehow. I mean, it's going to sound stupid. You're going to laugh. But my heart was pounding like crazy, and for once I wasn't vibrating out of my skin. Like this was the adventure I'd always craved.

I...don't know if I should be telling you this, actually. After all... it's not like I can get back what he stole from me. Fuck it, I

[anxiouslyfred]

No Longer Playing House

I told myself when I wrote these prompts that I would complete this week and by Remus I'm going to manage it, brain constantly exhausted or not, everything a short as hell bullet fic or not

This is for @aro-sides-week prompt of found family

Patton getting cleared to adopt after a long fight for it and trying to fit all his friends into family roles

Logan immediately questions this, and why he's somehow implied to be Patton's partner despite them not being together and him being alloaro while Patton's aroace

Needless to say the kid,( because lets face it, although Patton would probably love to raise a baby, he'd get attached to some precocious child in a foster home if ever advised to visit one.) gets very amused by them arguing and after a comment by Logan about being more suited to a teacher than any familial role in a child's life starts calling him Mr Logan.

Virgil also argues twice over, because Patton decides he should be the kids older brother. He is not Patton's son and refuses to let the man make him so at all, and ignoring that, they're already found family. That does not to any extent mean they have to fit these roles Patton has in his head, it just means they're people important to each other, who want to look after each other in their ways.

Roman... goes along with it. He loves the idea, especially when he's chosen as an uncle to the child, claiming he'll be the coolest. He only starts questioning it when Patton declares Remus to be the cousin they do everything to avoid influencing the child.

This was a group brought together because for various identities the normal relationship wouldn't work, and they were happy with it.

Janus at least gets Patton to drop the entire thing with a very snide "Wow, thanks Patton, I would just adore being an aunt to your child, encouraging the very suffocating amatonormative family structure we all wanted to escape. Is this your way of convincing two alloace's they should date, because I really believe Roman and I know our relationship to each other better than you."

That gets Patton stopped in his tracks. He looks from Janus to whichever of their friends are said at this time and stutters out an attempt to deny that,

"You're right, I might have a kid now. but we're family and there's no need for a structure of that. Sorry guys. Guess I just caught up in the idea of making a home like I always played house as a kid."

"Fuck social structures! That's what Remus told me!" The kid cheers at that, getting groans or laughter from everyone, even as Patton scolds them for language and listening to Remus.

[aita-systemized]

TW: self harm

AITA for encouraging our ex-host to hurt themselves?

Hi. I'm a persecutor. The first known one in our system, even. I'm an Introject of our system's OC, who is also a system. My source is a persecutor alter who encourages unhealthy coping mechanisms. So, I've been here ever since we found out we were a system, possibly longer, as well as another persecutor and a fragment.

Originally, we were part of a community that glorified self harm to the point where it felt like you SHOULD be depressed. We don't know who our host was, but she had already desired depression due to wanting to be like our older sister who toyed with our emotions constantly back then. She easily fell into this idea that you need to hurt yourself to be depressed, and that knives were the "one correct tool" to use. That's the only way it was shown. Knives on arms, and then there's blood and it makes people numb in a weird melancholic way. Like it was a ritual. Especially when it's done "for someone else".

We were in this community for a while and even tried to hurt ourselves unsuccessfully during this time. We eventually were barred from the community by our parents who hadn't cared for the majority of our life about what we did online. They've since forgotten about it all.

Skipping some time, we figured out we were a system, etc etc.

Our host, now ex-host, Alex, was a bit of an idiot. They tried to act innocent to everyone else and refused to be open about our issues. Alex represented the idea that living in ideal ignorance, away from everyone, while still being aware of your own issues and coping unhealthily, was the best option. They were immature. Weak, even. Regressed. Vulnerable and gullible.

I was the "bad alter". The hateful, spiteful demon from who knows where. I didn't want to change. I still don't- I just can't interact with Alex anymore, and I've been less active as our brain develops different alters to cope with different things.

I punished Alex for being imperfect, because I hated how innocent they pretended to be and how they always turned everyone against me, every single time I did something wrong. Hell, Alex even convinced our Caretaker (again, now ex-caretaker) to push me away out of being able to interact with the system.

They treated me horrible and constantly switched between pitying n' babying me, and treating me like a monster. So I made myself that monster. I was nice sometimes, then I'd hurt them like they expected me to.

That's just how it was.

And then Alex found out we had a bread knife in the house.

They started cutting themselves. We didn't do anything but try to comfort them afterwards. By "we," I mean the rest of the dumbasses in the system. I just remained quiet, at first, even kind of enjoying it.

Until they started doing it more often.

I started monitoring them every time they did it. Alex always had a certain way of doing it. When nobody was in the kitchen, with the bread knife, only on the forearm.

So, I made sure that they knew THAT'S the "right way" to do it. And that they needed to do it. I convinced Alex, I suggested it when we were alone at home. It bugged everyone, but it made me feel good and it gave a structure to something in our increasingly chaotic life.

And I felt stronger. I started getting more and more bold. I'd hurt alters in the headspace. I'd belittle them into tears and ignore their complaints. At least, I think it was me. The other persecutor and I often share memories.

It's a bit blurry from that point. I don't know where I was, what I was doing.

I know that the host split into three. I know that our splitting became worse, as well as our "forgetfulness". I know that Alex was found out and we had to go to therapy. I know that it took ages to find out about the host split.

I don't know how long it's been since I've done anything.

My memories are vague at this point. I'm not sure if I'm a fragment or just going in and out of dormancy. But I've been wondering if I'm the asshole here. I probably am. I just can't get myself to think that way. I've always put myself above others. So my system asked me to do this.

I'm sorry if I've been rambling. Our ability to express our thoughts has gotten worse and worse.

To summarize, I am a persecutor and I motivated our idiotic, idealistic, ignorant host to cut themselves in a semi-ritualistic fashion. I think I'm the asshole here but I suck at being able to tell.

AITA?

[computerpeople]

i need to work on the narratives i tell myself not everybody hated me for 90% of my life and im sure a lot of the people who have hurt me didn't have malicious intent but i want to complain and vent because its like my biggest issue right now

i feel like this self esteem shit has robbed me of every part of myself i liked and its making me feel fucking crazy. this is supposed to be my body and my life but i feel like im sharing a fucking body with a bunch of self destructing assholes and it makes me not want to front because of how bit the fucking holes been dug since getting kicked out but fuck man i dont even know where to start and EVERYTHING triggers me. and i want to start working with all the parts of my brain to get the memo that we are loved and our friends DO like us and we CAN do shit but where do you fucking start!!! and it makes me extra pissed that its not even our fault. it makes me so mad that this isn't some kind of like ohhh you have internalized ableism so its made you shy kind of shit its like my parents fucking hate me and even my "good" parent who chose to have me and thinks we're best friends doesn't love me she just LIKES me and you can tell with the way she interacts with me and the way she interacts with my sisters and you can tell when she says im just like my dad and the way she looks at me. my dad fucking hates me. BOTH my sisters have been fucking terrible to me in the past because they were convinced i deserved it. my step mom was convinced i was some sort of satanic sociopath and would TELL EVERYBODY so my teachers were off put by me, i didn't have any fucking friends and the few i did make my parents made me STOP BEING FRIENDS WITH, and the few that stuck around kept me around because they were abusing me like my fucking ex and my parents thought itd be a good influence on me. its being made fun of in school CONSTANTLY and being made fun of by other kids around where i lived because i was the weird religious homeschooled kid and it was being bullied by every "family friend" i had for being the weird one and it was being teased by my family for being the disabled queer one and im sick of it. IM SICK OF THIS SHIT AND ITS NOT EVEN HAPPENING ANYMORE BUT IM JUST SO SCARED OF IT HAPPENING AGAIN and how the hell do you even convince yourself it issnt true when its happened SO MANY TIMES. i feel like one of those incels who are like MY ENTIRE LIFE HAS BEEN A REJECTION but what do you do if your first relationship was with a boy who was physically and emotionally abusing you sicne you were ELEVEN who cheated on you multiple times and would make out with you and tell you it was him trying to "see" if he could love you and then stalked you AFTER HE broke up with you because you were too annoying and immature and autistic for him!!!! WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOUR MOM, WHO IS THE "GOOD PARENT" SIDES WITH HIM!!!! BECAUSE YOU SIMPLY ARENT GOOD ENOUGH FOR SOMEONE TO BE THAT CRAZY ABOUT.

how the fuck am i supposed to get myself to believe im worth ANYTHING after all that. i cant rely on other people for that but what else can i do!!!!