#ill give some proper content warnings when i have enough written to start posting

[gutsfics]

Super curious about Thomas and Avalon's retirement 👀: do they still plan on filmmaking like say, short films and productions to put up in their own theatre or do they want to leave that life behind them?

this is actually going to come up in my RCD rewrite, It Won't Get Better (But It Won't Get Worse) !! so i'm not going to get too into detail bc if i talk about things i wanna write about too much then i. am less likely to write about them <- already doesnt write anything

basically they both decide to retire early due to issues they have with the film industry, specifically all the bs that tends to go on behind the scenes in Hollywood that tends to go hand in hand w that amount of fame and money

they both still love making movies, but a big theme of IWGB will be learning to let go of something you love but is ultimately hurting you. i think they'll occasionally make movies, but defo not on the scale from the height of their careers in hollywood. just when passion and inspiration strikes

& they make sure to support local filmmakers as much as they can of course!!! they want people to be able to make the art theyre passionate about without having to experience the same Horrors that they themselves have

mostly its financial support, but i like to think at some point they both get cast in a horror movie with a plot similar to this song by Bug Hunter

they play the old man who's being haunted (Hunt) and his dead spouse (Avalon)

[inevitably-johnlocked]

can we adress how toxic some of these self/harm and suicide fics are?? as someone who has struggled with these issues, treating them as just a way for the two characters to get together, or one character to be the savior who cures someone of their problems? I'm so frickin over it. continuing to put your partner in limbo by threatening this behavior when they don't give you enough attention is a symptom of something major. This is not something i like seeing romanticized. at all.

[CONTENT WARNING FOR ENTIRE POST: heavy discussions of trauma, suicide, self harm, depression, political issue mentions, and eating disorders. Please proceed with care. I am not cutting the post because I think the message is important, so scroll past until my icon disappears <3 Stay safe, My Lovelies.]

Hey Nonny

Okay, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt here because you mention you DO have struggles with these issues, so I’m going to state right up front here and say I AM NOT DISREGARDING YOUR PERSONAL EXPERIENCE AT ALL. Your view of this topic is valid, and it’s not something I am ever going to say is wrong for you. 

I would like to offer an olive branch, here, Nonny, and give you an alternative take on this, because I’m concerned that perhaps you are still coping with your own struggles and in return, you unwittingly and unintentionally are coming off as unsympathetic to other people’s coping mechanisms.

I KNOW how hard it is to see another view when yours is the only one that seems right, especially after a tragedy or after dealing with heavy things. But all I am asking is for you to temporarily extend some empathy as I discuss my thoughts in this post, and I apologize in advance if I come off as dickish, because, again, it’s hard to see past your own feelings, and I tend to give a “firm but understanding” approach to asks like this. It’s NOT meant to call you our personally. Just asking for an open mind.

I will tackle this ask in a similar fashion to this post here, which talks about shipping vs fetishization so CW for that, as well as like this post here, where we discuss pet peeves. My assumption here is that Nonny is unsure about what “romanticizing” actually entails, and how much this ask is basically Gatekeeping Fiction 101, a thing that’s been going on since the beginning of storytelling. The ask is perceived by me to be emotionally unaware of how unsympathetic it actually sounds, and in turn can unintentionally upset people who engage in these stories.

First thing’s first, Nonny, and I said it before, I GET IT. I understand what you’re going for here, why you feel it’s toxic, and why you think it shouldn’t exist. Here’s the thing, though: what you’re ACTUALLY calling for here is censorship and gatekeeping because YOU PERSONALLY take issue with something, want the fandom specially curated just for you, because it PERSONALLY OFFENDS YOU. And that, it itself, is what’s really toxic, here. Just because YOU are offended, does not mean that it’s not helpful to SOMEONE ELSE, and it’s selfish to make such a demand of people.

Let me explain.

As I mention in the link above re: shipping, many people read and write fics to cope with the reality of their own experiences. Nonny, your experience is NOT the same as someone else’s. Your pain is NOT universal, and you DON’T KNOW what that author has been through; for all you know, they spent 6 months in-hospital after attempting suicide, and they are now simply processing their trauma through storytelling. 

Or, “continuing to put your partner in limbo by threatening this behavior when they don't give you enough attention” ? It’s a VERY REAL THING that ACTUALLY happens in real life, and perhaps it happened to that author, or they want to write an alternate ending to their pain.

Or, “one character to be the saviour who cures someone of their problems?” is something a suicide survivor WISHES someone did for them. Because they feel alone in the world and don’t want to be alone anymore.

These stories are simply escapism for people, either to learn about or share what these mental illnesses do to people, or are the “fantasies” of survivors, of their ideal outcome to their own tragedies. Coping with guilt over the loss of someone they feel they could have saved. The brutal truth about realty.

And sometimes, it is because some people need a good cry and a feel-good happy ending, because real life? Well, it rarely has those happy endings and so few opportunities to let us cry, and sometimes life is just easier when we view it through the eyes of fictional characters. Do you not want someone to save you sometimes Nonny? And I mean metaphorically here, too. Someone to just take all of your hellish burdens off those shoulders for one day. Someone who will come in to save you from yourself. I know I do.

And, well, sometimes, Nonny, it makes people feel less alone in this socially distanced world.

They’re not glorifying that issue Nonny. They’re telling their story.

Here are some thoughts:

Romanticization: Some trendy teen outlet selling a shirt with “mentally diseased” written across it.

NOT Romanticization: A character in a story coming to terms with a diagnosis of mental illness and learning ways to adapt. Their partner is involved 100% and they learn together.

Romanticization: Sherlock merchandise being sold with “I’m a high functioning sociopath” (not mention ableist as all heck)

NOT Romanticization: A character self-harms because of depression, and character B helps the character through their pain and together they get proper therapy and treatment.

Romanticization: Calling yourself “OMG I’m so bipolar!” because it’s trendy.

NOT Romanticization: A clinically depressed author, who survived a suicide attempt, wanting to tell their story through characters the world is already familiar with, and one that a touchy subject can be expressed and understood by other people, because they’re not ready to write the “real” book. Fandom is a safety net for them.

See what I mean Nonny? We don’t KNOW what kind of pain these authors have PERSONALLY been through, and to censor them from having their voices heard and their stories told is just not on for me.

And let me be clear: YES OF COURSE romanticization happens EVERYWHERE. I am not denying that. But your ask is coming off like EVERY STORY EVER WRITTEN is glorification of something. By your logic:

Disabled people shouldn’t write about their disabilities because they’re romanticising themselves.

The authors with medical degrees shouldn’t write realistic med-fics because some where in the world, ONE person MAY HAVE had a similar experience as Character A and B.

Someone broke their foot in ballet so they shouldn’t write a story about a ballet dancer who broke their hip because it may offend ONE ballerina SOMEWHERE in space and time who got sideline at the prime of their career? 

Stories about LGBT+ people shouldn’t be written because homophobes think it’s icky.

We shouldn’t write about wizards because it offends high school catholic pastors (an actual thing that happened)? 

How about cancer stories because kids die of cancer all the time? 

Non-fiction autobiographies about holocaust survivors is not okay.

Science books offend flat earthers, so we shouldn’t write those.

Books about the Big Bang and a 4.5 billion-year-old earth offends creationists, so burn those.

A now-adult child rape victim writing their survival stories to help get their often-in-power abusers behind bars are taboo.

True crime stories from detectives on those cases shouldn’t be told because they weren’t the victim.

Non-fiction in general because someone somewhere may have had that one singular thing happen to them.

How about coping with grief over a parent’s sudden death because I personally might find offense in that since that was a horridly traumatic experience in my life?

Do you see how progressively out of touch this argument is? (the answer to all of these: authors should be allowed to write them, because stories make us human). Your argument leads down the very dangerous path to censorship of books, the internet, and history... to have people only read and learn what someone else dictates, leading to... well.

I’m not trying to be a dick here, Nonny, I’m really not. But I think you’re really missing the entire point of fiction and story telling. I feel you’re failing in the empathy game here, and failing to understand what romanticizing really actually is. 

Whenever I get asks like this, I always feel like the Nonnies don’t really know much about pre-Ao3. I come from “early internet” fandom age, and I’m talking before tags existed. Back when I had to go buy a book at Coles and guess what was in it based on a cover description. No “amazon reviews”. No “harmful content warning” stickers. You just picked up that book, and sometimes you get a sweet story about a friends exploring an alien landscape, and other times WHOOOPS ACCIDENTAL ALIEN SEX I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR. And sometimes, it ended with a dark story about death, and the reality of coping with it.

Twenty years ago, books on the shelves at bookstores and libraries were the only place you could do your reading and they certainly do NOT have tags on them... Modern tagging of stories are a REALLY recent thing introduced probably no less than 15 years ago and was perfected by Ao3 (which was started in 2009). 

These days, there is no excuse if you only consume fanfiction on Ao3. Fics are tagged with proper possible-trigger tags 90% of the time. They have a VERY METICULOUS filtering system. You aren’t being forced to read the fics, you don’t have to read the fics, so use those tag filters, they exist for a reason.

So, with that in mind, I genuinely DON’T GET this attitude about people wanting everything sugar coated and saccharine by default. Especially when you can LITERALLY CURATE YOUR OWN CONTENT. Life isn’t sugar coated. And fiction shouldn’t have to be either. People tag fics with triggers for a reason.

As they used to say back in my early internet days: Don’t like it? Don’t read it. Don’t comment, skip, next story.

And to put this ALL into perspective, so that you don’t think I’m talking out of my ass, I’m going to reveal something here: Do you know what fics I can’t read, Nonny, because they trigger me? Eating disorders. That’s self harm, Nonny, in a very different way. But you know what? I know that those fics DO help other ED people so I’m not going to sit her and tell people NOT to rec or write them. And some of those authors who write those stories are processing their own ED through those stories, healing in their own way. And you know what I do when I see one of those fics? I don’t read them, move on, next story.

I’m sorry if you perceive this as me being harsh with you here, Nonny, and you DON’T have to agree with me and you can block me and never talk to me again, and I’ll understand. As I stated at the beginning, I’m offering an alternative perspective, and helping you to see that some people take comfort in these types of stories.

I think what this all boils down to Nonny, after all of this, and rereading your question a final time to see if I missed covering anything, is that (and feel free to shit on me if I am wrong here) I’m getting the impression – as an unprofessional outsider looking in – that you’re still struggling with your inner demons, whether you realize it or not. The tone and brashness of your ask has me believing this... It feels like it was written after a trigger-moment and you needed to vent AT someone because you are alone, and that hurts my heart so much. I truly hope you find peace in your mind, soon, and I hope you have someone to talk to professionally, or at least a friend. (tw under link, suicidal ideation discussion and links to phone numbers that can help you). I only wish the best for you, my Nonny.

Anyway. I welcome other people to chime in here, respectfully, and let me know if I have the wrong take here. Because I genuinely don’t think I do, but I am not a professional, so my entire thing that took me 3 hours to write here is probably moot. I’m especially interested (on anon in my asks if you’re not comfy with revealing yourselves) on thoughts from other people who have survived the original topics here, as well as any therapists and authors as well.

Take care of yourself Nonny. And please curate your own content for your mental health. Ao3 has an “exclusionary tag system” as well, please use it. *hugs*

[sp-ud]

Waking Up

AO3 Link

Inspired by this post: Link

And my own post about this concept: Link

Content Warnings: Panic Attacks, Memory Loss

Words: 1817

Ranboo suddenly finds himself back in reality with his hands in the middle of braiding his own hair. Not the worst thing he’s woken up to after Enderwalking. He lets out a sigh as he continues braiding his hair, eyes drifting towards the ceiling as he reflects on what he can remember doing while Enderwalking.

Wuh oh.

---

This is basically me sharing my theories about Enderwalking in fic format. That's kinda it. I took my theories, and wrote em as a fic.

I also posted this at 3am which is why it took me till 2pm to make a proper Tumblr post about it.

Ranboo suddenly finds himself back in reality with his hands in the middle of braiding his own hair. Not the worst thing he’s woken up to after Enderwalking. He lets out a sigh as he continues braiding his hair, eyes drifting towards the ceiling as he reflects on what he can remember doing while Enderwalking.

Wuh oh.

Quickly tying off the braid he grabs the memory book. Reading through page 13 again. “New table”? Axe feeling lighter? Eye inside a block? Eye that looks his? Now, Ranboo might not know a lot about his Enderman heritage, but he knows a portal when he's described one.

Lightly smacking his face, Ranboo tries to shift through the foggy memories he always has after Enderwalking. Memories where he feels like a passenger, not the one experiencing it. He… he was mining. Just chatting with those particles of his, when he came across an exposed stronghold. He went to investigate… finding the portal but not recognizing it in his Enderwalk state.

Ranboo starts to head downstairs as he digs through his memories more, he’d… he’d realized the portal would probably help with the experiments he did while Enderwalking but had left to build a lab another day.

… Has he already built the lab? Yes, he has. Replacing the stone walls with iron and setting up what he’d discovered as ‘the solution’ to Enderwalking. Without having to remember, Ranboo can already tell he hadn’t gone through with it while Enderwalking. Otherwise, he would have woken up in the lab. Or in his bed from respawning, after all, his Enderwalking self didn’t seem to realize some of the multiple flaws in his solution.

But Ranboo is too scared to correct his Enderwalking self. It’s already taken him ages to convince his Enderwalking self that he isn’t some evil dissociative state that committed war crimes he can’t remember. He doesn’t want to imagine how it’d go over trying to inform his Enderwalking state he has it backward.

Sliding down into his basement he quickly mines through the wall to get the experiment log he's written in Ender. Flipping all the way to the last page where he’s written the solution. He pulls out a pen from his pocket and holds it hesitantly over the page.

He knows how he is when Enderwalking. A paranoid anxious mess with less than half of his memory. If he sees this when Enderwalking, he’d freak out, he’d get suspicious, and then probably do it anyways.

Reluctantly, he hides the experiment log back away, sealing it back behind stone bricks. He has to tell someone he both trusts out of Enderwalk, and in Enderwalk.

Which is admittedly a short list of people. Phil would be good, but the old man would likely ask too many questions he doesn't know how to answer. Techno, while also a good option, is also currently hibernating. And would likely pass the message onto Phil.

Niki would be an option if the two crossed paths more often, and Tommy has so many issues of his own right now, he doesn't need Ranboo's. The particles, while well meaning, are honestly more of a nuisance who would likely just increase any suspicion.

Which only really leaves one other person, Tubbo. Who, while Ranboo loves his husband, still isn't the perfect option for this, is the best he honestly has.

Someone he trusts, who will listen, who will understand, and who'll actually be able to help. The only issue is Tubbo himself might want to experiment, Ranboo personally still is a little salty over the whole electric chair thing. But hopefully the moobloom-hybrid wilk put aside his scientific interests for the sake of Ranboo's wellbeing.

Not wanting to waste any more precious time he has before falling back into Enderwalk, Ranboo leaves his house as fast as he can after quickly snapping on his armor.

The journey to Snowchester is quick, one he likes to thinks he'd still know even if he had no memories. By the time the water tunnel has shot him back out, it feels like barely a minute has passed since he woke up.

Letting his enchanted armor drip off the water, Ranboo quickly starts towards the mansion where, if his memory serves him right, should be where Tubbo is currently.

"TUBBO!" He shouts as soon as he enters the mansion, yelling being the most efficient way to locate someone in the massive building. His long ears strain themselves to listen for a shout back.

"I'M IN THE UPSTAIRS GUEST ROOMS!" The ender-hybrid hears distantly, darting up the stairs as fast as he can. "THE ONES NEAR OUR ROOM!" Tubbo shouts once more, Ranboo quickly taking a left.

He almost bumps into Tubbo as the moobloom-hybird steps out into the hallway. Luckily scrambling to a stop just before bowling the smaller teen over. He rests a hand against the wall, somewhat hunching over as he tries to catch his breath.

"You good bossman? Something wrong?" Tubbo asks, taking a small step towards Ranboo. The taller huffs a few more breaths before holding his other hand up to tell Tubbo to wait a second.

"It's…" he starts, before taking a deep breath and straightening up, "It's… oh God, I was so focused on getting here quickly that um, didn't really think through how to explain this all…" his tail flicks restlessly behind him.

Tubbo hums to himself for a second, "This is a sit-down kind of thing, isn't it?" Ranboo gives a small nod, "Good thing I just set up yet another 'sitting area earlier today, come on," the brunette grabs Ranboo's hand and gently drags him further down the hallway before opening a door with dramatic flourish.

It's another room consisting of multiple sofas and chairs around a coffee table. The amount of rooms they have that look like this is honestly concerning, but at least Tubbo has enough eye for design that they all are clearly different. Much less confusing than the identical empty rooms Foolish left them with.

Ranboo all but collapses onto one of the couches, Tubbo taking a seat across from him. The brunette's mouth is twisting in worry, nose scrunching up as watches Ranboo through messy bangs.

"Okay," a sigh escapes the ender-hybrid, "I, I guess the best place to start would be… explaining my… condition?" He still isn't sure what the right term for Enderwalking is as there's next to no public documents on the topic. "So, you know how I have bad memory?"

A slight snort before a nod tell Ranboo to continue, "Well that's, that's just one symptom of my, condition. The Enderwalk. It's genetic, I'm pretty sure. There's uh, not much known about it," Ranboo starts messing with the furred tip of his tail, "But it's basically a, a state I go into? I guess? And it…" he trails off.

How does he explain to his best friend, his husband, that the 'him' he always interacts with isn't 100% 'him'. His mouth hangs open before snapping shut, shaking his head a little. Tubbo won't hate him for something out of his control, Tubbo is reasonable, he's smart, he's a good person.

Another glance at Tubbo shows that the moobloom-hybrid now has a serious look on his face, leaning forward, waiting for Ranboo to continue.

"It doesn't just affect my memory. It, it can affect my judgment, my reasoning. And it worsens with age," Ranboo focuses his gaze back down to his tail flicking in his own grasp, "and, don't get me wrong, I'm still me when Enderwalking I'm just…" he loses his words again. Letting a silence fall over the room.

"Okay," Ranboo looks up. Tubbo has a hand to his chin in thought. "okay, I get what you're saying. Plenty of species have illnesses like that," the ender-hybrid nods, "and I'm glad you told me but, why now?" A hint of light blue eyes peer through messy bangs, "did something happen?"

"More like… something's been happening but it's, it's close to becoming worse." He shifts on the couch, once again struggling to find the right words, "I'm Enderwalking all the time… I'd say that you uh, you probably see me Enderwalking more than you see me normally," he pauses to swallow. "When Enderwalking I, I dont realize I'm Enderwalking," a humorless laugh escapes him. "I don't even have half of my memories then. I managed to forget what Enderwalking even is! And somehow," his voice is starting to go static with anger, "I managed to come up with the name again, while Enderwalking, to explain my normal state!"

He hunches over, burying his head between his knees as he lets out static-filled laughs. His ears no longer hearing anything other than a growing buzz. Hands gripping and twisting his hair as his laughs start to devolve into something more like sobs.

A light weight settles over his shoulders and back, hands slowly unclenching his hair to drift down to wrap the blanket around himself. He feels a head rest itself on his shoulders, following the deep breaths he can feel carefully. His tail loosely wraps around a waist before small hooved finger tips start bruising through it.

"Sorry," he mutters. Tubbo hums, leaning his head more onto Ranboo's shoulder.

"Nothing to be sorry about, it sounds like… a lot," Tubbo says back, "You sure you want to talk about this now big man?"

The ender-hybrid nods, tilting his head to somewhat rest on top of Tubbo's, the smaller's dull horns pressing into his face. "I don't know when I'll start Enderwalking again, I have to tell you now before I forget again."

"As long as you're sure," Tubbo replies with a shrug, but Ranboo can still hear the concern under the layer of dismissiveness.

"When Enderwalking I've, starting to experiment on myself. It's progressively gotten more… intense, to put it simply. My Enderwalking self thinks he's found a solution, to stop from 'Enderwalking' but," Ranboo pulls back, doing his best to make direct eye contact with Tubbo, "the 'solution'? It's, I know what it's going to do! It will just make the Enderwalk worse. I'll probably be down to only a quarter of my memories! I might even, even lose a life."

Ranboo's eyes loss focus as his panic starts to build before he feels Tubbo's dull horns pressing into his chest and arms wrapping him in a loose hug.

"That's what you wanted to tell me, right?" Tubbo sighs, "you want me to make sure that you don't go through with it while Enderwalking?" Ranboo lets out what's supposed to be a hum that ends up sounding more like a buzz in response.

"Don't worry bossman, you can count on me," Tubbo tightens his hug and Ranboo can slowly feel the fog that comes with Enderwalking creep in.

"I know, I always know," he responds, before letting himself drift into the fog.

[hergan416]

For the Chocolate / Kisses prompt in the MF Discord server

Written in the YGO/One Piece Crossover universe created for Seek and Ye Shall Find.

While the main fic is rated M, the work below is rated T. 

I ended up just giving up and deciding to post it. Sorry for any mistakes that still exist. Hopefully Japan is accurate enough--as a dumb white American I know nothing except what google, and a very nice person from the Yugioh mini-exchange discord server, have told me.

(I reserve the right to edit this before I add any of it to the main story).

Katakuri stood in front of the proffered address, passed from Pegasus’ hands to his own, warily. His presence no longer seemed to be jail-worthy, as he’d been released, but he was sure that it had something to do with the influence of the white haired man and the conversation they had had.

He could see into the window of the bedroom above the shop from his full height, the bright red lettering reading “Kame Game” above the shop’s door passing his chest like a t-shirt slogan. A small man sat on a bed, zoned out in front of one of the square boxes he'd learned to call TVs, a corded remote in his hands. His face screwed together closely in concentration, and his whole body moved as he pushed the buttons on the controller.

Katakuri crouched, feeling intrusive. The glass panes on the store's doorframe revealed an equally miniscule shop interior. Katakuri would never fit inside, even if he could make it past the front door. He raised a hand to knock twice on the glass, rattling the frame a bit, despite the fact he'd attempted to be gentle.

The noise attracted the attention of the shopkeeper behind the counter. The short, graying man glanced up, widening his eyes in shock. He paced slowly towards the door, pushing it open hesitantly. 

“May I help you?” he asked.

“I’m looking for Yugi,” Katakuri stated, glancing down at the short man, who was still nearly half Kakauri’s stature when he bent in two like this. “Is that you?”

“Oh no,” the man chuckled fondly. “That’s my grandson. I’ll get him for you.” The man glanced up at Katakuri curiously, but made no comment as he turned back inside the store. Katakuri watched him shuffle to the back of the shop to open a door, yelling up the stairs behind it. 

Momentarily, the short man from the bedroom bolted down the stairs past his grandfather, glancing out the shop door with a confused expression. As soon as he saw Katakuri, however, some understanding crossed his face.

Katakuri would normally have predicted someone to have turned away and become worried based on that look. Yugi, however, smiled widely and walked out the door to talk to him.

“Hello!” Yugi greeted, and Katakuri blinked.

“Hello,” he responded, wondering what Yugi’s gambit was, and wishing once more that using his future sight under this world’s conditions didn’t make him feel so ill.

“Jounouchi told me about meeting you,” Yugi said again, grin not leaving his face.

That made Yugi’s response even more confusing. Katakuri needed control over the conversation. To try to preemptively dispel any of Yugi’s worries, displayed or not, he asked, “Did he tell you that I’m visiting from another world?” 

Yugi only shook his head excitedly. “No, just that you first appeared in the Kaiba Dome, and that you were strong. But you don’t seem dangerous.”

Not dangerous? What was wrong with him?

“What can I do for you?” Yugi asked, looking up at Katakuri patiently. He had to crane his neck, even with Katakuri bent over like this, not being much taller than his grandfather.

Either way, if Yugi wanted to get to the point of the conversation, Katakuri had no issue. “My mom likes sweets,” Katakuri started. “Before I go home, I want to bring some samples back for her, as a present.”

“Oh! That makes sense!” Yugi beamed. He couldn’t really be that gullible, could he? “I can help you find some treats to bring her. There are a lot of interesting candies in Japan.”

Katakuri nodded. “Thank you.”

Yugi smiled broadly. “I think my partner might be helpful too, if you don’t mind another tagging along?”

Katakuri blinked. “Sure?” he replied.

“Great! Ryou loves cream puffs, I don’t want to show you the best bakery in town without bringing them along. Let me call them!”

Yugi was so cheerful. Katakuri could so easily kill him, why was he so carefree? And why did Yugi say Ryou was a “them?”

Yugi had pulled a small, shiny purple device from his pocket and flipped it open, pressing a few digits on the interior keypad of the phone. While the ringing Katakuri could hear faintly was different than a den den, the familiar "clank" proceeded the voice of another human answering was reminiscent of the creatures.

"Hey Yugi! What's up?"

"Wanna get some cream puffs?" Yugi asked excitedly, not mentioning Katakuri.

"Always! What's the occasion?" came the muffled voice on the other line.

"I have a new friend that is shopping for sweets for their mom." Yugi glanced at Katakuri, as though making a mental note. 

Katakuri had been struck by the turn of phrase in which he had been also called they, and had stopped listening momentarily to Ryou’s response.

"I forgot to ask," Yugi replied guilty, loudly enough to interrupt Katakuri’s thoughts. He put his hand over the phone and gestured up at Katakuri to get his attention.

"What are your pronouns?"

His what? Katakuri blinked.

"I use he/him," Yugi continued, gesturing towards himself. "Ryou uses they/them." He gestured at the electronic device. Ryou was not a she or a he, it seemed like. Intriguing. He wondered what a person like that would be like. This world was interesting.

Why did Yugi think he might be a they/them too? Was something off about his masculinity in this world? Everyone at home was quick to call him a him. Having an option now seemed...interesting. Maybe he should try it, try to be a they/them. Not have to be a brother for a minute.

But what if they found out? There had to be some classification for being a they/them, unique to this world. And not being from this world, he likely didn’t have it.

"He/him," Katakuri replied, his voice expressing doomed finality.

"He, sorry," Yugi said into the phone, repeating the information without comment as to how long it took Katakuri to answer, or the tone of his voice. Katakuri felt a pang of regret at the pronoun choice, then shoved all the feelings about the conversation away. It wasn’t fair to Yugi, or his family, or anyone.

Katakuri listened intently as the information which had seemed so important moments ago was glossed over. All that, just to be met with smiles and grins, and questions about where they should meet.

"We're in front of Kame Game right now, but we could probably start heading towards downtown and meet you there. I don't think he will fit in a taxi."

"Oh! Is this that giant guy from the news?!" Ryou sounded excited. "I thought it was just a myth. Maybe he has information about other cryptids!" Katakuri blinked. Why would he know anything about this world’s cryptids?

Yugi chuckled into the receiver. "Meet you at New Domnio Baked Goods. We should head out sooner rather than later."

Ryou assented, and the phone call ended.

"My name is Katakuri," Katakuri added, realizing he had not said so before.

"Nice to meet you. It seems like you at least knew of me, I'm Yugi," Yugi replied, holding out his hand.

As Katakuri took it, he was conscious not to squeeze at all. He doubted that anyone on earth had the constitution to withstand a proper handshake, and Yugi was even smaller than Pegasus had been.

"We should start walking," Yugi said, gesturing forward down the street. "The bakery is going to be downtown."

Katakuri nodded, standing back up to his full height with a stretch. A few moments later, he’d fallen into step behind Yugi. 

As they walked, Katakuri was struck by how little dichotomy there actually was between the two of them. Yugi was obviously quite short, and trusted far too easily. But they had a similar fashion sense, all leather and belts and blacks, with outlandish hair color. Yugi walked confidently through the world, but the confidence lacked arrogance, like Seto Kaiba possessed. Further, Yugi seemed to love a challenge, already puzzling through the best route to get candies.

“We’ll stop at Lawson on the way. That way you can see some of the convenience store treats, and Lawson’s the best for those. We’ll get a Baschee, and see if there’s also a real one left at the bakery, so she can tell the difference. And I think they’ve got the sake Kit Kats in stock right now, and you’ll have to try the Banana and Rum Raisin ones, those are the ones from our region…”

Katakuri simply nodded along, content to leave the planning to Yugi. There was one thing he cared about, however. “There are donuts at the bakery, right?” he asked.

“Of course. I can make sure you get some,” Yugi smiled up at Katakuri brightly. 

“What’s your budget like?” Yugi asked, face falling suddenly, as though he’d run into an unexpected roadblock.

Katakuri blinked, then pulled out the paper money Pegasus had given him in exchange for a few Berri to study. He handed it all to Yugi, not understanding the difference in the colored slips of paper. “I don’t normally pay for things, so you’ll just have to figure it out.”

Yugi’s eyes widened, ignoring Katakuri’s comment. “Oh, wow! We could even buy admission to Kaiba Land and try all the duel monsters treats there with this!” Yugi’s eyes were gleaming, looking excited. “You can get the Blue Eyes White Dragons and the Dark Magician treats anywhere, but all the other duel monsters are Kaiba Land exclusives. Marshmallon is my favorite, but the Kuribohs are good too. Oh! And there are these little heart-shaped candies that the lady dressed up like Injection Fairy Lily makes at the bake store….”

Katakuri shook his head, interrupting Yugi. “I don’t think Kaiba Land is a good idea,” he warned, frowning behind his scarf. “I don’t want to make him any angrier than he already is. Plus, my mother is even larger than me. Imagine how many sweets she’ll need just to try them. And I would like enough to taste as well.

Yugi shrugged, but nodded, taking Katakuri’s response in stride. “That makes sense, I guess,” Yugi said.

“Just buy a lot of everything,” Katakuri replied. “Lawson’s and your bakery should be plenty.”

Yugi nodded, beginning the conversation about the various Lawson’s snacks anew as they walked.

----

Soon, the pair had arrived in front of a large, brightly lit storefront, a blue banner stretching across the top of the building. Glass windows showed rows and rows of products (from food to clothing, and everything in between) stocked in neat rows inside. Katakuri, of course, could not fit.

“Can you uh…” he trailed off, and Yugi smiled up at him. 

Yugi shuffled into the store, pulling items off the shelves in bulk. Katakuri watched Yugi through the glass for the nearly fifteen minutes it took Yugi to find all the items, wait in line, and check out. Yugi shuffled out, the mound of sweets stored in several plastic bags. Katakuri couldn’t wait to try them, once back in Brulee’s mirror. His mouth watered, and he had to force his stomach to stop from rumbling.

“I’ll come back soon. Did my list sound ok?”

Katakuri just nodded. He wasn’t going to tell Yugi that the list didn’t make any sense to him, and that he’d stopped listening to Yugi’s ramblings pretty soon after shutting him down about the theme park, since they were making him hungry.

Walking to the bakery was even worse. Even though he knew that he’d be acquiring donuts, the weight of all the things Yugi had bought at the convenience store was taunting Katakuri, who had yet to eat since he’d arrived in Dominio a few days ago. But, with his goal so close, and the promise of returning to Brulee to eat them so near, he knew he needed patience.

The hunger made his height even worse, however, and gravity was weighing heavily on him by the time they had arrived at the small building, simply labeled in small, white letters "New Domino Baked Goods.”

Ryou had already purchased cream puffs and was eating them outside when Yugi and Katakuri arrived. Katakuri tried not to let his mouth water, as he thought about how close he was to acquiring donuts. Yugi ran to greet Ryou, who gave Yugi a hug as he got within range. Katakuri tried to distract his hungry belly by closely examining the other person, trying to figure out what was different to make Ryou a they.

However, this seemed to be a bit of a mystery. There wasn’t anything exceptionally different about them. Ryou was just another short person, with long white hair, and a flat chest. If Katakuri had seen Ryou at home, he’d have assumed Ryou was male. But, Ryou, evidently was not.

Katakuri’s hunger and frustration with the train of thought was making him cranky. He wanted to pound down the door to the store, grab as many sweets as he could, then escape through Burlee’s mirror. Money took so long to use. He forced himself to wait, remembering his promise to Pegasus when he was let out of jail. Stupid people and their PR. 

Impatient, he decided to pull out the pocket mirror and mime examining himself in it to give Brulee a heads-up that he was growing impatient. He needed to eat. Soon. She appeared in front of him and he sighed. “I just need to wait a moment for the rest of the food,” he murmured, head angled so that no cameras in the area would be the wiser to the woman he was speaking to. 

Brulee nodded, grinning widely. “Please have safe donuts and a tent ready when I get into the mirror,” he requested, and she agreed again.

The shop door opened and a bell rang to signal Yugi and Ryou leaving. They handed him several paper bags, and a few boxes of treats. He didn’t even listen as Yugi tried to give him his money back, or Ryou tried to ask him questions about where he came from. Instead, he simply thrust the mirror towards Yugi until he was holding it.

“Goodbye,” he announced to Yugi’s startled face. “Thank you.”

And then Brulee’s hands reached from the mirror, gripping the sides of his leather jacket, pulling him through the small surface in a convolution of physics. Yugi and Ryou were left staring at the street where Katakuri had stood in blinking confusion. Yugi yelled at the mirror, which appeared overly-large in his hands, that he hoped his trip was safe and it was good to meet him, Katakuri was barely listening. It was time to get away from the awful, tiny, cramped world with it’s omnipresent cameras, and eat.

[hopegroundzero2]

Fluff

I’ve posted a pitifully small amount of MatsuKoma which is weird because it’s definitely one of my favorite pairings. So, uh, here’s MatsuKoma! I like it!

A lot! 

It’s going to be written for the Matsuda Fan Week proper, too! Also as the title implicitly suggests, this is fluff, so I don’t think content warnings are needed.

“Matsuda-kun! Good morning!”

“Chased away by your classmates, again?”

“No! I just wanted to see you!”

Komaeda’s smile is bright, without a doubt. That kind of shining sincerity could be pretty blinding if Matsuda wasn’t so darkly cynical. All the same, he’s in some kind of mood so he does beckon the other closer. Komaeda trots up eagerly, but he noticeably hesitate when Matsuda pats a spot next to him on the bed.

“Ah, Matsuda-kun.”

“There’s enough room and I don’t feel like getting up,” Matsuda huffed. “Come on. You’re too weak to just be left standing there.”

“Is this really alright?” Komaeda asked, still worried and uncertain. Matsuda rolled his eyes and just nodded.

“Come on. We don’t have all day.”

With more of a snappish tone, Komaeda’s quick to sit down beside him. He’s still noticeably stiff and rigid—it only gets worse when Matsuda’s fingers begin to card through his hair. Matsuda does stroke the nape of his neck and a bit of his shoulder to get the other to relax, but Komaeda’s cheeks just darken even more.

“It’s because you’re soft,” Matsuda mutters, as if that would dispel any air of awkwardness. “Not just soft. Your hair’s fluffy. It’s nice to touch.”

“Aha, really?” Komaeda squeaks a little as he’s petted. “T-That makes me happy to hear. I’m glad this meager body of mine can still bring you pleasure.”

Frowning, Matsuda sets his book aside so that he can focus more on Komaeda. More on pulling him close and nuzzling into those spongy curls.

Komaeda shivers.

“It’s not about pleasure,” Matsuda says against him, giving his waist a quick squeeze. “It’s just comforting. Being like that. I guess, for all the shit you start, you’re also a weirdly reassuring presence? Wonder what that’s about.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Matsuda-kun,” Komaeda responds pretty predictably, but there’s a rising smile in his voice. “Still—you can’t imagine how happy I am to hear that, even if I can’t understand it at all.”

I wonder if it’s because we’re both lonely, Matsuda wondered. We both can’t help but seek companionship like this, even if it’s ill-advised. I could hold him close and cuddle him all day right now if I wanted—but should I? When our situation and our relationship is so precarious?

He shouldn’t. He probably—definitely shouldn’t. But, life was miserable. Life was hard. Life was rough. This was nice, soft, and fluffy. He thinks he should have at least a little bit of indulgence.

Just a little.

[tobespecial-a]

HIYA  FOLKS  WELCOME  TO  MY  BLOG  HERE.  GONNA  KEEP  THESE  AS  SIMPLE  AS  POSSIBLE  SO  LETS  GET  TO  IT.  ---  this  blog  is  dash only  for  now  but  may  change  in  the  near  future. 

first  things  first.  i  am  a  student  in  school  monday -  friday  from  1-5pm  so  expect  some  slowness  on  my  end.  i  am  studying  to  be  a  mental  health  and  addictions  worker  &  am  really  passionate  about  the  field  i  am  in  so  i  will  be  obviously  prioritizing  school  &  also  irl  commitments  over  rp.  please  respect   this  &  we  shall  be  dandy

now  that  thats  outta  the  way.  HI  THERE  I  AM  ES  !!!! (  well  technically  its  ESTELLE,  but  you  can  call  me  either  or  i  do  not  mind  !!! )  YOUR  LOCAL  NON-BINARY  GAY (  they /  them  pls  )  who  is  in fact  straight  af for  a  certain  gay  icon  zachary  quinto  ---  i  hail from  the  pst  timezone  in  vancouver  canada.  fun  facts  about  me.  ANYWHO  ON  WITH  THE  RULES.

REPLIES

this  is  not  my  only  blog  folks,  it  will  be  one  of  my  more  active  ones,  but  it  is  not  the  only  one  i  run.  please  be  patient  in  terms  of  replies.   i  usually  try  to  stay  on  top  of  my  game  but  sometimes  i  miss  shiz.  pls  poke  me  after  2  weeks  if  you  are  wondering,  i  may  have  missed  it  !!  however  it  is  likely  in  my  drafts.  PRO  TIP  THOUGH,  i  like  each  reply  or  starter  posted  to  me,  if  i  didn’t  like  it  there  is a  95%  chance  i   did  not  see  it.  so  please  feel  free  to  remind  me  after  the  2  weeks.  

also  personals  do  not  reblog  my  threads,  ooc  posts  or  anything  thats  not  a reblogged  photoset ,  its  annoying,  just  don’t  do  it.   --  i  also  have  minor  case  of  dyslexia  so  please  be  patient  with  spelling  errors.  i  catch  most  of  them,  but  sometimes  i  don’t  get  them  all.  if  something  becomes  an  issue  please  tell  me. 

FOLLOWING  AND  UNFOLLOWING

i  am  mutuals  only.  please  keep  this  in  mind.  i  will  only  take  ooc  asks  from  non  mutuals.  if  i  am  not  at  least  following  you  (  cos  i  know  some  people  who  i  write  with  /  have  written  with   don’t  follow  everyone  cos  they  want  a  clean  dash,  but  they  still  wanna  write )  then  please  don’t  attempt  ic  interactions.  this  is  your  first  &  final  warning.  i  will ignore  attempts  &  block  if  it  persists. 

do  not  follow  &  refollow  me  repeatedly  its  also  annoying  &  will  likely  get  you  blocked.  i  take  a  while  to  follow  back  sometimes,  please  be  patient. i  rarely  unfollow  so  if  you  see  it  happen,  please  poke  me.  however  i   have  the  right  to  ignore  it,  or  not  answer.  you  have  the  invitation,  i  just  don’t  have  to  invite  you  in  if  i  chose  to  revoke  it.  

disclaimer  i  probably  will  not  follow  blogs  that  romantically  ship  peter/claire.  incest  normally  doesn’t  bother  me  enough  to  mention  it, but  this one  just  really  is  a big  nope  for  me.  sorry  in  advance.  

CHARACTERIZATION

gabriel  is  based  off  nbc  heroes  &  my  own  personal  headcanons.  at  the  point  of  writing  this  i  have  seen  the  first  &  second season,  i  am  making  my  way  through  the  rest  of  the  show  at  present.   don’t  worry  about  spoilers  though  as  i  pretty  much  know  most  of  the  major  plot  points  for  gabriel  during  the  series,  just  not  all  the  specifics.  ---  threads  will  generally  take  place  in  aus  &  content  i  have  seen  however,  until  i  have  caught  up.  though  idk  how  big  the  fandom  is  so  i  sense  a  lot  of  aus  my  way  any  ways  lol

***  REGARDING  HEROES  REBORN

i  have  no  plans  to  watch  it.  sylar  isn’t  even  in   the  show  so  its  really  just  not  required  of  me  to  view  it.  any  plot  lines  transpired  in  that  canon  will  never  be  seen  in  any way  on  my  blog.   sylar  reforms  himself  post  series  &  just  goes  on  from  there.  when  i  officially  make  it  through  the  whole  show  i  will  write  proper  headcanons  on  that.  

ACTIVITY 

because  of  school  &  other  blogs  i  won’t  always  be  around.  however  i  can  always   be  reached  by  mobile  if  you  need  anything,  just  hmu.  thank  you  for  your  patience  in  this  regard.  also  fair  warning  i  do  have ADD  a  low grade  form  of  ADHD  so  i  get  a  lot  of  the  fun  extras  that  come  with  it.  please  respect  there  are  times  i  may  need  to  step  back  or  times  when  i  become  disassociated ,  its  been  happening  a lot  lately  so  i  wanted  to  inform  people  so    they  don’t think  i  am  ignoring  them.  i  promise  its  not  you,  its  me,  i  just  need  space.  FOR  THE  MOST  PART,  i  am  usually  always  around  to  answer  ims  &  messages  so  do  not  be  afraid  to  message  me  or  anything.  

SHIPPING 

ah  yes  everyones  fave  category.  if  anyone  has  questions  you  can  always  im  me  or  hu  my  ask  box  for  more  deets.   GABRIEL  IS  PANSEXUAL   BORDERLINE  GRAY  ROMANTIC  (  hes  between  demi  &  gray  )     

imma  start  off  by  saying  that   i  ship  syelle  as  well  as  petlar.  a  note      about  the  later, from  what  i  have read  &  seen  i  will  only  really  ship  them ( petlar )  during / post  the  wall,  which  at  the  time  of  writing  this  i  still  need  to  view.  i  would  be  open  to  pre  show  aus  to  start  at  this  point. 

anything  else  is  fair  game  at  this  point, just  be aware  sylar  isn’t  looking  for  anything  serious  really  during  heroes  canon.  plus  hes  not  exactly  a  nice  guy  so  like  be  warned  there.    ----  honest  to  god  if  your  interested  in  shipping  with  sylar  or  gabriel  (  yes  there  is  a  difference  )  pls  come  @  me.  the worst  i  can  do  is  say  no.  

i  will  also state   i  don’t  ship  sylaire  because  well…. shes  underage  ???? &  before  you  leap  down  my  throat  about  heroes  reborn,  most  of  the content i  have  seen  is  her  being  underage. but  i’m  not  gonna  accuse  anyone  of aging  anyone  up  for  a  ship,  cos  there  is  canon  where  she  is older.   i  am just  not  interested.  don’t  see  the  appeal,  i’ve  read  way  too much meta  &   just  don’t  see  it.  

it  is  also  worth  noting  that  post  3x01 the  second  coming,  sylar  can  no  longer  die.  he  is  immortal.  save  for  one  weak  spot  which  he  aint  about  to  tell  anyone  where  it  is. 

finally ummmm  i’m  22  guys  so  no  lying  about  your  age  to  smut  with  me.  i  will  block  your  ass  if  you  do.  don’t  make  me  be  the  bad  guy. 

GODMODDING

pls  do  not  god  mod  my  muse.  you  wanna  write  him  ??  make  a  blog  of  your  own,  or  go  write  some  fic.  i  play  three  strikes.  first  time  is  a  reminder,  second  time  is  a thread  drop  third  time  is  a  partner  all  together  drop.  THESE  CAN  BE  EXERCISED  AT  MY  DISCRETION  HOWEVER 

also  i  think  its  worth  mentioning  cos  some  might  see  this  as  potential  godmodding.  sylar  is  not  a  nice  guy,  hes  a  type  of  serial  killer.  he  will  kill  you  if  it  benefits  him,  or  if  you  piss  him  off  enough.  hes not  above doing  it  just  to  prove  a  point.  he  will  hurt  you  if  you  make angry,  might  not  kill  you  but  he  can  hurt  you  if  you  anger  him.  so  if  your  muse  riles  him  up  enough ??  just  be  prepared  for  potential  violence,  that  might  follow.  ---  i  will  not  exercise  my  muses  strength  cos  you  think  its  funny  to have  yours  poke  the  hive.  --  if  you  don’t  like  this,  please  don’t  attempt  to  write  with  me.  my  muse  is  a  villian  for  most  of  the  show  &  i  won’t  be  watering  him  down  for  you.  

OOC  VS.  IC  KNOWLEDGE

at  the  point  i  am  in  the  show,  the  only  people  who  know  what  sylar  looks  like  are  the  people  that  have  seen  him,  furthermore  only  those  who  have  heard  the  name  know  he  is  even  a  thing.  so  its  safe  to  say  a  lot  of  normal   savillians  don’t  know  him.  HELL  a  lot  of  the  heroes  don’t  know  him  either.  ---  keep  this  in  mind  when  interacting.  if  your  character  has  special  abilities  to  know  who  he  is,  thats  different,  but  don’t  just  assume  you  know  who  he  is  or  what  he  does.  

FURTHERMORE  TO  GO  OFF  A  TANGENT  i  am  not  gonna  be  too  keen  to  see  a  bunch  of  starters  of  people  begging  for  their  lives.  gabriel  is  a  hell  of  a  lot  more  then  just  a  random  serial  killer.  he  is  a  complex  character  who  has  feelings  &  issues  of  his  own.  hes  not  going  to  kill  just  anyone  for  the  sake  of  it.  please  bare  this  in  mind.  i  will  likely  not  reply  to  those  kind  of  random  interactions.  ---  by  all  means  if  you  wanna  plot  something  like  that  i  am  game  for  it,  but  please  give  me  the  heads  up.  i  will  not  reduce  my  muse  to  a  stereotype  killer,  cause  hes  not  & thats  the  tea.  he  only  kills  when  it  benefits  him,  its  not  a  sport  for  the  hell  of  it.  

TRIGGERING  CONTENT

given  the  nature  of  my  muse  there  will  be  some  triggering  themes  on  this  blog.  such  as  murder,  gore,  suicide, manipulation.  if  anyone  is  bothered  by  this,  please  blacklist  accordingly.  i tag  “  insert  trigger “ tw.  i  will  not  be  posting  heavy  gore  on  this  blog  in  visuals  at  least  &  i  ask  you  tag   it  if  you  post  it.  i’m  fine  with  a  bit  of  blood,  but  too  much  makes  me  a   little  ill.  writing  is  fine,  anything  like  a  photoset  with  heavy  gore  needs  to  be  tagged  for  me,  &  i  myself  will  not  be  posting  such  content.

MAINS  &  EXCLUSIVES

i  will  only  be  doing  exclusives  for  ships  &  crossover  fandoms  at  this  time.  if  you  are  interested  in  being  mains  lemme  know.  i  do  however  require  previous  interaction  ic  or  occ,  preferably  both.  if  you  wanna  be  exclusive  i  ask  you  return  the  favour  otherwise  i  drop  the  exclusivity.  

AND  I  THINK  THATS  ABOUT  IT  !!  I  PROMISE  I  AM  LESS  SCARY  THEN  THESE  RULES  MAKE  ME  SEEM,  I  AM  GIANT  NERD  WHO  IS  HELLA  FRIENDLY  &   LIKES  TO  GUSH ABOUT  HER  FAVES  ALWAYS !!  MUTUALS  MAY  ASK  FOR  DISCORD  IF  THEY  WISH  TO  TALK  THERE

NOW  HURRY  UP  &  ATTACK  MY  INBOX  OR  IMS  OR  LIKE  A  STARTER  CALL  LETS  WRITE  !! 

[isa-ly]

PROJECT NO CONTROL

TW: therapy, mental illness, anxiety, depression, control issues, One Direction

As you have probably noticed by now, I take trigger warnings quite seriously, as I believe that it’s not only important to give people the chance to prepare for or avoid certain content, but also think that it is a good way of showing that one takes the mental health and wellbeing of others seriously. 

Which is why I included One Direction up there, because if anyone who has been part of this fandom will probably remember, Project No Control was one of the most insane and traumatic incidents to ever happen on this platform (Tumblr, that is). Although, I guess the trigger warning is kind of useless in this case, since it only comes after the headline of today’s entry. But hey, I tried.

Anyway, enough about One Direction (is what One Direction also said, five years ago ... still going strong on that “hiatus”, huh guys?), let’s move on to what I want to talk about today. The last couple of posts were definitely not all easy to write, as I shared some things that only the closest of my friends knew about me so far. In a way, simply putting them on this blog doesn’t feel as big of a commitment (remember the one about dumping your problems on social media? Yeah, that’s kind of similar to this) but it also doesn’t leave me completely cold. After all, I’m not just chucking out one sentence about how I’ve been crying into my pillow all day, but instead actually taking the time to elaborate on my feelings, and by doing that, trying to make more sense to myself and actually work through my issues.

Another part of this whole blog idea, was to not exactly know who was going to read it. While all the things I share on here are written and edited by me, the whole compromise lies in letting others read them too. And sure, those are mainly the people who follow me on Instagram (hi, there), since I’m not really influencer enough to have random folks read it, but even that causes me to feel a little bit uncomfortable.

Because I can’t monitor who sees it, I can’t access what people think of it and I’m simply not in control of what happens once I post something.

Ah, yes.

Control.

The little word that not only dominated Tumblr back when those five British guys were still world-wide sensations, but that also seems to dominate my entire life. Only that I didn’t really know that until a few months ago. 

I briefly mentioned it in my last post when I talked about slithering into my quarter-life crisis, which resulted in my anxiety and panic attacks, as well as a mean depression and my low-key burn-out. Anyway, back to the topic of control. I told you the story of how, back in autumn of 2018, I had suddenly and for the first time in my life, found myself in a situation where I was completely out of control in almost every aspect. I had realized that what I was doing and studying, was slowly turning out to be a huge disappointment and even worse than that: I had no idea what to do about it.

Sure, I could have dropped out right there and then. But that wouldn’t really have made things easier, as I still had absolutely no clue what I would have done next. I had no back-up plan, no safety net. Well, I mean of course I had a metaphorical one – that being all my friends who I’m infinitely thankful for – but I still wouldn’t have known what to do with my life in general, had I simply quit university.

This, in addition to the fact that my parents weren’t quite as supportive of the idea of dropping out as some of my friends might have been, just added to the feeling of everything slipping from my hands and me no longer being able to call the shots in my own everyday life. I had been so sure of so many things and from what seemed like one second to the other, that certainty that had always given me such a grand feeling of control, was ripped away from me before I could even bid it a proper goodbye. 

So, there I was. Stuck in a situation that didn’t seem to have a solution or emergency exit. And, well, you just need to read the last entry to see that it didn’t go too well after that.

I remember one fateful day where I had once again been sitting in the library, trying my absolute hardest to write my thesis (and, obviously, failing), until I just gave up again and started watching Netflix on the university computer. As I was sitting there, not really paying attention to whatever show I had clicked on anyway, I felt so insanely frustrated because I just didn’t know what was wrong with me. I didn’t know why I couldn’t write or read my books or just do anything that involved my goddamn thesis.

And this not-knowing, this feeling of staring at what seemed to be so obvious yet invisible to me, drove me up the fucking walls. So, in a desperate attempt of once again solving the riddle that was my own mind, I sat down and did what I’m actually doing right now as well: I started writing. I figured that whatever it was that was keeping me from working on my academic responsibilities (and also causing all my panic attacks and insomnia), must have had its origin at some point in the past.

And since I didn’t know what point that could have been, I decided to start at the beginning. And I mean the literal beginning. I opened a new Word document that – and I am fully serious – started with the words: “Let’s try and make a timeline that starts with me being born”. I know, dramatic as always. But I was ready to commit. I had never considered my life to be something that contained many traumas (oh, innocent past-me), but I was more than ready to dig deep to find some, so I could finally make some sense of why I seemed to be stuck, both emotionally and academically.

I still have that document and I actually briefly skimmed over it just now. And, oh dear. Reading all of that again was not easy. And writing it wasn’t either. I remember sitting at that computer and, despite having thought that there wouldn’t be anything worth mentioning from my past, just typing and typing and typing. When there was nothing else left that came to my mind, I stopped and started reading through it. It was all there, laid out right in front of me, and it was like going on a very nostalgic, sad and painful walk through all the events of my childhood and teenage years that had just been really, really shitty.

So, there I was, reading, thinking, comprehending. And all of a sudden, like the clouds clearing, like the lens sharpening, like the fog lifting, I saw it. I saw the red string. The penny fucking dropped and I literally couldn’t believe it.

“I knew in this moment, that I had lost complete control.” “I had no control.” “Maybe it’s just a way for me to wield control.” “I felt like something was happening that I didn’t have under control.” “It resulted in me trying to get back control.”

All of those sentences were among what I had just written. And you don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out what the pattern I had recognized was.

You thought mommy and daddy issues were a cliché? Well, let’s add yet another layer on top of this pile of stereotypes: My incessant, compulsive and almost obsessive need of always being in control of myself and my surroundings.

I remember exactly how I felt when I finally, fucking finally, made the connection in my own head of why I was feeling so hopeless and lost. It felt like getting to scratch that annoying itch you couldn’t reach, like fitting that last puzzle piece into the whole picture. Needless to say, I burst into tears in the middle of the busy library, because while I might be very emotionally repressed, having that massive epiphany did actually make A Feeling happen inside of me, because I had been so desperate to figure out what was wrong for so long.

I’m aware that all of this sounds a bit like a crappy Hollywood movie, as big aha-moments like this don’t often happen in life – or in a library. But this one did. And I’m infinitely glad about that. Because it was in that moment I realized that a) I really, really needed therapy and b) I really, really was not going to finish this stupid thesis just for the sake of it and risk making my already worrisome mental state even more.

In a way, you could say that the urge of making a list and sorting all my traumatic memories from bottom to top, was in of itself a mechanism of yielding control for a short period of time. But okay, I don’t want to completely dissect every tiny action and choice of mine just for the sake of finding out what trauma it might have been influenced by (she says, writing the seventh, ultra-long blog post on dissecting every tiny action and choice of hers just for the sake of finding out what trauma it might have been influenced by).

Alright, let’s recap: On said very fateful day, I realized that the reason why I had been having those panic attacks, why I couldn’t seem to write my thesis and why, in general, I felt so depressed and lost, was because I felt like I was out of control of everything in my current life. And that terrified me. So much so, that it had almost stripped me of my ability to function like a normal person.

Quite the epiphany, huh? Yeah, it felt like that too, back then. And I know that not every realization happens like that. Most of my other soul-searching attempts that came when I started therapy, took a lot longer and required a lot more digging and work until I was able to untangle them. Like, for example, the question that posed itself after having figured out that I seemed to have very severe control issues: What the fuck caused them?

Because yeah, it’s one thing to finally understand what’s happening, but an entirely other thing to know why. Which leads us to part two of this wonderful post. The one where, and we’ve all been waiting for it, the two most important women of my life come back into the picture: My therapist and my mum.

Okay, I need you to know that I just laughed out loud at that last sentence for several minutes and then considered crying a little, too. But, I repressed that urge (healthily, don’t worry) for the sake of finishing this entry. So, let’s continue. (Why do I not have a career in stand-up comedy yet, seriously.)

When I started my personal therapy sessions with Kerstin, one of the first things I told her about, was that trauma-timeline list that I had written. Naturally, as therapists do, she then asked me the exact question I already asked above: “So, where do you think that need for constant control comes from?” And I said: “Well, damn, Kerstin, wouldn’t I like to know!” Okay, I didn’t say that. But in the imaginary sitcom that’s always happening in my own head I did, and then everyone laughed in that super fake ‘Friends’ way. What a blast it was.

Back in the real world, I actually did another load of digging through my past, this time to find the reason behind my, at the time, newly discovered issue with control. Or better, the issue with loosing it. I already talked a little bit about my childhood and teen years not always having been easy, mainly because of the sometimes very difficult relationship with my mum. And, well, it turns out that that “sometimes very difficult relationship” left a lot more scars than I would have ever liked to admit. I always have a hard time talking about this, because it makes me feel like I’m painting my parents as some sort of villains who constantly mistreated me. And that is just not the case. Life’s not black and white like that, and neither is family.

Again, I really had a great time as a child and teen, and my parents loved me, were always there for me and supported me in almost every aspect. But in some others, they let me down. Saying and admitting that breaks my heart. But denying it has broken it even worse in the past. I’m not going to go into much detail here because I don’t feel any need whatsoever to fill the Internet in on my personal family issues.

However, I do feel the need to remind myself why it is okay to talk about where your own current problems and struggles might come from. I’m not pointing fingers and blaming my own mum for everything that ever went wrong in my life, because that would be stupid and simply wrong. But I have grown and realized enough to know that, yes, by raising me the way she did, she did cause me some pretty heavy and painful traumas which I’m still working through today.

One of them being my problem with giving up and losing control.

My mum is such a strong and smart person and I learned so much from her. But she also never let me forget that whatever achievement I accomplished in life, was due to her providing me with support, knowledge and guidance. According to her, whenever I did something wrong, forgot something or made a mistake, it was because I hadn’t listened to her advice or done it the way she would have done it. And whenever I did something right, succeeded and made progress, it was because she had pushed me and told me how. She never let me have any credit of my own. She told me she was proud of me, but she never let me be proud of myself too.

In a way, she raised me thinking that the reason for any and everything I did, was because I either obeyed or disobeyed her. She always had the upper hand and she was always, always in control. Of my failures, of my successes, of my life.

As you can imagine, with puberty added into this already difficult family-mix, shit kinda hit the fan when I got a little older and we basically didn’t speak to each other for an entire year. Whenever we did speak, we’d just end up arguing instead. And that’s where I decided I to simply take matters (and back then, that was pretty much just school) into my own hands. Some other nasty stuff happened in reaction to that, but I actually managed to, from this point on, be independent when it came to studying, organizing and planning everything school-related. To some people, this might sound ridiculous and insane. But in my family, with my mum, this was almost reason enough to literally kick me out of the house.

But I still did it and for the first time ever, I was the one who controlled something. I was the one who decided when to do homework, how much to study and how to keep track of all my school stuff. Again, I realize that some people are probably thinking “Big fucking whoop, it’s just school?!” and yeah, I thought that too. But my mum didn’t. However, I didn’t budge and I kept the upper hand, for the first time in my life.

You can probably see where this is headed. As I got even older and started university, more and more responsibility became my own and my mum had to let go of more and more things she had always controlled for me. Not without a fight, never without a fight, but she did, eventually. I was now the one who decided what I wanted to do (at least most of the time, since I still lived at home and that came with its own set of struggles).

Without getting too carried off here, I’ll just try and make my point: When I realized that what I myself had chosen as a life and career path, was no longer actually something I wanted to do, this sense of control that I had quite literally worked years to get (from my mum and for myself), all of a sudden started to crumble. And subconsciously, without even realizing, this took me back to the mental place of being a hopeless, sixteen year old teenager that felt belittled, powerless and uncredited. Only that now, I had “no one to blame” but my own self.

The way that I had been raised with always having to have such a vice, controlling grip on my own life and academic “career” in order to be in charge of it myself, sat so deep inside of me that having had the minuscule realization of not being fully sure of my future anymore, was enough to throw me so hard that I could barely catch up with how quick I was falling apart.

That was one killer of a sentence, I apologize. But I hope that it got my point across somehow. Maybe this all sounds a bit ridiculous, maybe it doesn’t. I honestly can’t tell, most of the time. But by now, I have come to terms with the fact that how my mum taught or actually failed to teach me the value of giving up control, has greatly influenced me, even if it was just subconsciously. Because had you asked me, I would have told you in a heartbeat that it was no big deal to doubt your academic choices and even less of a big deal to change them or look for something new.

But, deep down, there was another truth that I had grown up with and into, and that one was what started to cause all my inner turmoil, the anxiety, the panic attacks, the insomnia and, eventually, my full-blown burn out. 

And all of that hit me on that one fateful day, in the fucking library.

I feel like I’ve been waffling for ages now but it felt kind of cathartic to get this off my chest. I’m planning on talking about this is another post soon, but this was the first time I realized the crucial difference between saying and living things you want to be your truth, and saying and living things that really are your truth. And back then, I didn’t know I hadn’t been doing the latter for a very long time. Hitting that kind of breaking point was a very unwanted, but definitely also very much needed jumpstart to my journey of working through my own issues. 

The first being the one I had with control.

I’m gonna shut up for good now and just leave you all with two screenshots because they’re just too funny not to include them. They were both reactions to my, dare I say, iconic sentence of my therapist and my mum being the two most important women in my life and well, just see for yourself ...

... sorry, mum. And also ...

... don’t we all?

[thedegenerateasexual]

Derek Hale/Chris Argent Fic Reclist

Derek/Chris is such a very very rare ship that I have been through the (currently) 158 works in the tag numerous times and picked out all my favorites (13 in total), carefully filtering out the stuff I don't like (OT3s, kinks, unwanted sideships, etc - just my own personal tastes). So I decided to write up a reclist for anybody who was craving content and didn't want to sift through AO3 themselves! The fics are sorted by season, and my favorites are marked with a ♡.

(A note: because everybody does warnings differently and what needs to be warned for is so subjective and I'm a little short on time, I chose not to cover warnings on this list. If you're the type of person who wishes to avoid certain material, please check the warnings on the fic page itself before you read!)

Season 2

The Scars That We Earned by Sandrine Shaw [10k]

The Alpha pack closes in and finds them easy targets: still recovering from their latest battle, old alliances fractured and new ones not formed yet. Chris Argent makes a fateful choice, setting in motion a chain of events that will leave the status quo forever changed.

Firstly: shoutout to this one for being (according to AO3, I don't know about other sites) the first Derek/Chris fic ever. It's got werewolf!Allison in it, and deals a bit with what happened to Victoria, and Allison especially has to deal with what happened to Victoria after she's turned, which is an interesting sideplot I wasn't expecting when I first read it. It feels really IC; prior to the get-together, Chris and Derek aren't afraid to hurt each other physically or with words. It takes a little time for them to get used to one another, it isn't too immediate or sudden.

Back and Forth by incendiary1 [1.9k]

This is how they are, this is how they'll always be. Derek and Chris have a tenuous balance.

This one is short, but it's basically all unresolved (semi-sexual) tension, which is really what I loved between these two at the very end of Season 2. I like especially that Chris attempts to excuse Gerard and Kate for what they did by excusing Derek for Victoria; it doesn't quite work like that, of course, but it's nice to see him written a bit flawed.

Season 3A

But It Won't Erase by broadcastdelay [8.9k]

When newly-turned werewolves start popping up in Beacon Hills, Chris Argent goes to bring Derek back to town to help clean up the mess. In cleaning up the mess, though, one last werewolf gets created. And somehow that’s not even the most unexpected development in Chris’s life that year.

So this one has werewolf!Chris, which is one of my favorite tropes, mainly because of all the tension and internal struggle involved, which this delivers on. It's VERY well-paced, and the thoughtfulness in Chris's internal narrative about his family and their history and his own history with Derek is a nice addition. I like the most that even though Derek is an alpha in this, Chris finds the idea of submitting to his authority laughable; eventually, so does Derek.

♡ a year in the life by allthebees [27k]

Things are as close to normal as they’re ever going to get for the Hale pack, after everything they’ve all been through in the last couple of years, when Cora starts noticing something weird going on between her brother and Chris Argent at the beginning of senior year. As if that weren’t enough of a problem it isn’t long before the odd monster here and there turns into a coven of witches who roll into town, decide to kick the werewolves’ den, and very nearly ruin everything.

Or: snapshots of a year in the life.

I did not, even a little bit, expect you could sell this pairing to me in a way like this. This fic is almost romcomish, in the plot of Cora trying to figure out what's going between her brother and Chris before anything is actually going on and the both of them remaining perfectly oblivious to any sexual tension while they contentedly go about becoming better friends. I like also that Chris and Derek hang out with Melissa and the sheriff a lot in this fic because it's very refreshing to get to see Derek around other adults, and for them to have their own friend group outside of the kids. While the fic doesn't exactly focus on the Derek/Chris (it's one of many plots going on throughout the year) it happens pretty believably and there's a nice moment where Derek has to address with Cora how it's different than what happened with Kate and how Chris and Allison, similarly, have to talk about what happened to Victoria (another thing I didn't think I could be sold on; usually I prefer to spare her the horror, but this fic does it really believably and well!). I absolutely love this one and it's definitely the longest one on this list, so if you enjoy longfic, you’ll like it too.

Season 3B

Allies by darkmagess [4.1k]

1. The scene at the end of 3x19 between Derek and Chris Argent that was so clearly missing.

2. When Derek wakes up after the nogitsune's fly almost makes him kill Chris.

3. After the nogitsune is taken care of, Chris disappears into his mourning for Allison. Derek decides to not leave him alone in his grief.

This is actually a series of 3 short episode codas, and while they're actually friendship fics and not technically slash, for a long time they were some of the only 3B content I had for these guys, and I still really enjoy them; there's a lot of rawness and vulnerability in them on both Chris’s and Derek’s part.

Nous protégeons by salvage [1.8k]

Immediately post-Letharia Vulpina. Chris and Derek in the aftermath of the explosion.

This is another 3B coda, except this one is, to quote the author's notes, a sexy coda. I'm pretty sure this is the first slash for this pairing I ever read, and the sex really is pretty sexy; despite Chris having to do the work of pulling the shrapnel out of Derek's back, they try to stay impersonal with each other up until they moment they don't, so it's just the right amount of rough.

I'm no good (you're no better) by broadcastdelay [1.5k]

Despite his intention of avoiding both Argents and heroism, neither of which he feels particularly well-suited for, Derek ends up with 74 shards of glass embedded in his back and a Chris Argent who seems to disagree.

Yet another coda from from the season that keeps on giving. What I like about this one is all of Chris's deep existential thoughts meet with Derek's usual impersonal and blunt nature, and the juxtaposition is almost funny. He still winds up eyeing Chris suspiciously, then turns his back on him. The dynamic in this one is really something.

To Vex by Twisted_Slinky [2.3k]

Derek is in the middle of hunting down a deadly creature when Chris Argent appears to save the day and strip off his shirt. Blame it on the gremlins.

A short and sometimes funny fic where Chris and Derek have to use the age-old technique of "pretending to be banging" to avoid raising the suspicion of the law. As always, Chris gets to make a pretty grand entrance.

♡ Not Yet by d0nquix0te [5.9k]

Three people who've lost their families make a family of their own.

In this one Chris and Derek accidentally kind of wind up becoming Isaac's dads right after Allison's death, and it's honestly such a perfect match-up I wish there were about a hundred more just like it. All three of them know grief and loneliness very well, and it winds up being the perfect environment for Chris, who didn't cry when his daughter cried, to finally allow the grief to catch up with him. What gives this a nice touch is that he's clearly terrified of facing it, and Derek opens up a little to him in an effort to give him some courage; overall a truly fantastic dynamic.

♡ Box of Wormwood by Emmessann [21k]

When Chris took the headshot, Kate exploded -- burst into a swarm of satanic butterflies. Now Derek's terminally infested, waiting to see what physical or emotional hell will break out next. Chris would give anything to save his friend, but they both know the clock is ticking on their last desperate hope.

This one is a really hard, heavy read—I've only read it twice myself—because of how heavily it deals with the themes of death, grief, terminal illness, and suicide. (And terror of all things buglike, but that's a personal thing, lol.) The actual slash here is minimal, considering Derek's condition, and the ending is a bit unexpected and pretty strange—but it's also ultimately hopeful, and the fic as a whole is definitely well-written, spectacularly written; not only are Chris and Derek's voices perfect, it's the only one on this list that actually not only made me cry, but got me crying both times I read it.  

Season ???

(For works that are set in the future, or for where the era it takes place in is unclear.)

♡ I've Seen This Face Before by entanglednow [1.1k]

"Come any closer and I'll shoot you in the throat."

Another werewolf!Chris fic, this one is very short and actually preslash, but it packs more tension in a thousand words than I even thought possible, both internal tension on Chris's part, fighting the shift, and tension of the sexual type between him and Derek. This fic introduced me to werewolf!Chris and I'm now highly into it, so take that as the glowing recommendation that it is.

♡ Slow Dance by RarePairFairy [1.6k]

They dated for some time before admitting that they were going on dates. At first, to reassure themselves and each other, it was just spending more time together. Derek was “just coming to look over some stuff”. Or Chris was just “heading out for a few drinks”.

Just to get this out of the way, I love this fic for having the most relatable tags:

That struggle is real; it took me about three years to figure out the proper tag to track on tumblr.

That aside, I absolutely adore this one for its own sake as well; as much as I love some nice rough sexual tension, I equally adore the slow and careful tenderness in this fic. Chris and Derek are both hyperaware of their history with each other and each others' families, and they do the smart thing and take it slow, so they can build something solid; it's different from most of the stuff I see for this ship but a dynamic I'm very very into.

Maybe, In the Future by dedougal [2.8k]

“I like you better as a beta,” Chris turned to him, looking over his shoulder. That surprised Derek.

The slowest of burns, Chris and Derek don't even get together in this one until at least five years down the line. I'm not normally one for futurefic, but this one meanders on its way without being too jarring or slow, and it's nice to watch them get to have a lot of time between enemies and lovers. (Also, I know I said I wasn't doing warnings, but I feel like I should warn for the sex pollen trope in this one; it's usually a hard pass on my part but it's about as consensual as that sort of trope gets if that's a thing you worry about.)

And finally, I'm not tacky or self-congratulatory enough to rec my own Derek/Chris fic here, but since I did go to the trouble of typing up a reclist, I don't have enough shame not to say I've earned a little plug—but no pressure if longfic's not your thing. :')

I also set up a tumblr blog for the ao3feed of this pairing; nothing yet, sadly, but if this ship is your thing you can follow it at @ao3feed-dergent.

Enjoy, and please consider hitting reblog if you did! (I want more people to yell about this with, lol.)