#im so sorry i just have So Many Feelings for this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

robinsgrl · 17 hours ago

Text

FEARLESS

chapter three. boobs and beers

pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 4.7k

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, mention of a panic attack, boobies lol, uhmmmmm shopping as a fat girl, heather should be her own warning, daddy issues, mentions of alcoholism.

authors note ⇢ heyyyyy….. im sick and i am soooo fatigued but i wanted to release this, i’ve been spoiling the kildare nights readers and i needed to give fearless some attention. sorry for any mistakes queens, love you guys! gimme ur thoughts!!

“Why are we here?” You ask as he plops down onto the seat across from you at the mall food court. He slides over a cup of fro-yo at you. A frown falls to your lip when you take a peek in it. “You get plain fro-yo?”

His eyebrows furrow, shrugging. “Yeah?”

You scoff in pure disbelief as you glance into his own cup. Plain chocolate. “That’s… like… a crime.”

Getting up off your cold metal seat, you pick his cup as well and walk back into the frozen yogurt shop. The cute worker behind the register has a bored expression on her face until she spots you. A bright smile falls onto your face, as does hers, as you meet each other. “Heather.”

“Gorgeous!” She squeals happily as you walk over to the register with the tall guy trailing after you, watching the two of you curiously.

“My friend here, he doesn’t know the art of fro-yo. Is there any way we can add some toppings? Promise I’ll pay for every cent.” You ask her sweetly. The red head nods happily, ushering you to go on in.

You can feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you walk over to the toppings station. A wave of embarrassment flushes through you as you realize something. This makes you look fat. You are. You are a big girl but you try and hide it. With big sweaters, baggy jeans, eating small portions when out— not showing others that you come to the fro-yo place so often that the cashier knows you by name.

“My dad and I come here all the time.” You don’t mean for your words to sound so defensive but it’s what you’ve had to do most of your life. Defend yourself. “It’s the one thing he can afford.”

His eyebrows furrow, head tilting gently. You realize he’s not one for many words but his looks say a lot. He’s curious about you. And confused. “Isn’t your dad rich?”

You take a quick peek at him and feel a weight lift off your shoulders when you see his eyes have moved to scour the toppings. “Anthony isn’t my dad.”

He nods, ahh-ing. “Right, he’s your step-dad. What about your real father?”

You shrug lamely, not really wanting to talk about him. “Nothing. We just like fro-yo. Are you seriously putting Graham crackers in your fro-yo?” You ask, eyes wide and with a glint of disgust at his choice.

His eyes squint with annoyance as he looks up at you. “What’s wrong with Graham crackers?”

“Everything.” You reach over the toppings and scoop up a spoonful of gummy bears. “Graham crackers are like… green peppers on your pizza.”

This gets a reaction out of him. “You don’t like green peppers on your pizza?”

You scoff out a laugh, “I don’t know how we’re gonna get along with all these differences between us.” Your tone is playful as you speak this. You reach over and grab a few maraschino cherries and plop them on your fro-yo.

“Now that, I can get behind.” He scoops up the cherries and loads them into his cup. He’s scooping up Oreo crumbles beside you as you take him in. There’s a slight stubble growing on his jaw, a green baseball cap on top of his head. He's a lot more laidback than you’ve ever seen. He's usually in khakis and polo shirts. Today, he’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie, with thick sneakers that you’re sure cost a fortune.

“You know,” you speak up after a moment, his eyes turning to you. You can’t make eye contact, eyes looking everywhere but his eyes. “We’re twins.”

“What?”

You point to his clothing and yours. You’re wearing baggy jeans and a baggy hoodie. “We’re dressed alike.” The two of you are done and back at the register, weighing your cups for the price. Heather begins ringing you two up and you’re about to swipe your credit card when he beats you to it. “I had that.”

But he ignores you as the payment goes through and Heather wishes you two a good day. “First things first,” you’re walking down the mall side by side, eating your fro-yo. “You need to stop dressing like me.”

“Hey, this is comfortable.” You defend yourself.

“Comfortable won’t get you anywhere. You have to show some cleavage every now and then.”

This offends you, a scoff leaving your mouth. You’re glaring up at him but he doesn’t seem to care, eyes moving to and fro, checking the mall out. “Why do I need to do that?”

“Real talk?” He asks you, eyeing you as if trying to see if you’ll get offended or not.

You take a deep breath in and nod. “You look like a little boy.”

You should be offended. But you can’t. Instead, a laugh bubbles out of you and you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “N-no, no I don’t.” But you don’t believe your own words. You sigh, eating another spoonful of fro-yo. “Okay thine.” If your mother were here you’d be getting a scold for talking with your mouth full.

Rafe simply rolls his eyes at the sight and hands you a napkin which you happily take. You chew on your cold gummy bears for a moment before speaking again. “Fine. I’m guessing that’s why we’re here?” You look around the mall with a soft and annoyed huff. “Where to first, sensei?”

You can see he’s visibly holding back a smile when he says— “Victoria Secret.”

The store is unbelievably pink. But your eyes flicker about the store and the mannequins with a sparkle to your eyes. You’d never stepped foot in this place unless Scarlett was at your side. Nothing about you ever felt sexy and she came here to feel sexy. So you never found your footing in the store. And now, with Rafe at your side, you feel even worse. Surface level, you only see undergarments for skinny people. Smaller people. And the idea of not finding anything and Rafe watching you get shut down makes you dread the rest of your day.

“Never seen someone look at mannequin boobs and frown.” You’re brought out of your painstakingly insecure thoughts at the sound of Rafe’s voice. You peek up at him and are surprised to see a softer look to him. Well, as soft as Rafe Cameron can get. “Seriously, it’s just bra shopping. And pantie shopping. I thought girls went crazy for this shit.”

“Okay, misogyny.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. To anyone else, it would look like a natural pose but you’re hiding your chest, as if that would stop this from happening. “I’m just… shouldn’t I do something else before shopping?” You hope he understands what you mean.

But he doesn’t. He shakes his head, “nah.” His nonchalant response sends a twinge of annoyance through you, biting down on the inside of your cheek. He starts making his way into the store, too much interest in his face when you call out to him.

“Seriously, Rafe, I’m too big for this.” This stops him in his steps turning to you with a look on his face that you can’t decipher. Not that you ever can, Rafe Cameron is an incredibly hard person to read.

“There’s a plus-size section.” Are his words and you feel a wave of heat come over you. Your mouth twitches as you try to hide the shame you’re feeling. But it seems you and Rafe don’t have that in common— you wear your feelings on your face.

“Look before we… I should probably, I don’t know… lose some weight.” Is your response to him, eyes refusing to meet him at all.

He sighs loudly, and you sneak a glance at him to see him rubbing the inner corner of his eyes with what you think is annoyance. And this only worsens your intense feelings of insecurity. And he speaks, “you don’t need to lose weight to be hot, ___. You’ve got a stunning body, you just have to know how to work it.”

Your eyes widen as they meet him for the first time in a while. And oddly enough, you can see he’s telling the truth. You wanted to see a lie on his face. You wanted to be proved right and know that he’s just as disgusted by you as all the boys in your school. But you can’t find it. “Now, are you gonna keep fishing for compliments or are we gonna find a bra that makes your boobs pop?”

You bust out laughing at this, covering your face with your hands in a shy manner. “Fine, but you have to promise to never repeat the word Boobs to me. Like, ever again.”

“How about breasts?”

“Gross.”

—

One of the kind ladies in the shop finds a few pieces for you that fit well. Surprisingly, you have a good time. The lady is unbelievably kind and finds you matching sets. And you come to realize you’ve never had a positive female shopping experience.

Most of your shopping was done with Scarlett and your mother at your side. And they seemed to be the unstoppable duo that knew just how to put you down. Your mother would grab at your stomach when you tried on a shirt that didn’t fit quite right. “This is where you need to focus,” she’d point at the spots that she felt needed to be fixed. “Next time you’re at the gym, focus on this. Talk to my personal trainer, he’s there all the time.” You went to the gym the next day. Apparently, she had spoken to her trainer and he grabbed you in the same way your mother did. You never went back again.

Scarlett. She’d make it a competition. If you found a top that made your eyes crinkle with the thought of wearing it proudly, she’d find the smallest size there was and try it on. Once you’d see her walk out with a top you were carrying on your arm, you’d set it down. She puts you to shame every single time.

So, now that you’re in a new shop, wearing a new push-up bra that fits like a perfect corset for your chest, you feel anxious. Beyond anxious. There are people everywhere. Chats coming from every single direction. But the last thing you need is to have a panic attack in front of Rafe. You barely know the guy.

“Okay… so what now?” You ask, clearing your throat to push away the bad memories of the store.

“Now, we shop.”

It takes an hour. A long hour to walk throughout the store and have him pick out outfits for you. Having him know your size was absolutely terrifying. But he didn’t bat an eye as you told him and he jumped right into it. Every now and then, he’d find an ugly shirt and hold it up to you and he’d mutter a joke. Jonah would love this one, is his go to. And before you know it, you’re no longer on the verge of a breakdown.

You’re in the dressing room and for the first time in your life, you don’t worry about how you look. Or how the jeans fit you a little too snug around your hips. You don’t feel panic at the thought of trying clothes on in the stuffy dressing room.

You come out in the first outfit and Rafe immediately busts out laughing. The green jeans are ridiculously long and the top is a corset top with blue hand-drawn flowers on them and ridiculously large bows at the shoulder straps. You knew it was a joke outfit but it was nice to mess around.

You jokingly strut, pretending the room is a runway. “Keep it in your pants.” You laugh as you give him a spin and this only makes him laugh some more. You feel a sense of pride for making Rafe Cameron laugh. Sarah’s text flashes through your mind. A man who hasn’t smiled in years. And yet, he’s holding onto his side as you strike another odd pose.

“Alright, alright,” his smile is pretty, you notice. And contagious, unable to hide your own as you listen to him. “We need to get serious.” But he’s still chuckling. “Try on a real outfit this time.” So you do. He likes them all. A few shirts ride up over your belly a bit too much and some jeans don’t fit over your thighs but you leave the store with eight new outfits.

Usually, you leave with hurt feelings and nothing but.

You two are on the ferry back home when your day together is over. It’s a forty minute wade back but neither of you seem to care. He’s sipping his Big Gulp drink and watching as you try and balance the water bottle lid on your nose.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.” There’s a tinge of amusement to his tone.

Your head is thrown slightly back as you keep trying but it’s to no avail, it keeps toppling over. With a huff, you pick the cap up and shove it into your pocket. “It’s a trick my dad usually pulls. It’s better with a quarter though.”

Avoiding the topic of your father is a skill you take pride in. Your mother always turns into a sobbing mess when you bring him up. Your step-dad isn’t ever really home and when he is, it’s awkward. The only person you could share him with was Scarlett. That was the one topic she never snarked at you over. Not to your face, at least.

“Can I ask?” You turn to him, criss cross on the bench that you two are sitting on, wind blowing your hair. You tuck a strand, nodding. “Where is your dad?”

“The cut.” You answer honestly. Your mother hides him from her new rich friends. She hides her past from all of her new rich friends. Her story isn’t as compelling as Ward Cameron’s. He built his way up. Your mother caught the attention of an older man and married him. She’s ashamed about it.

This seems to shock him but he’s not Rafe Cameron if he doesn’t try and hide it. “And you’re close?”

You shrug, turning to the cloudy sky. It’s easier to talk about hard things when you don’t have to look at anyone, you find. “We’re… we definitely have a relationship. But… it’s hard to build on it when my mother doesn’t know I’m talking to him.”

You can feel his eyes on you, mouth slightly parted as he takes your words in but you can’t turn to him. “She forbids you from seeing him?”

You hum a small ‘mhm’. “He’s a stain in her perfect life.”

“Not in yours?”

“He’s a…” you pause, searching for the proper words. “An escape. Like… in Coraline. The door. He’s my door to a… less suffocating world. Without the buttons, of course. And alcoholism.” You try to joke. He doesn’t find it funny, the look on his features softened and taking you and your words in. Letting them settle. “He’s not perfect. I get why my mom left him. Why she wanted better. He’s a drunk who can’t keep a steady job. When we go out, I buy us dinner. He couldn’t take care of my mom or me so…”

“So she found the next best thing.” He finishes off for you. You turn to him at this, nodding as your hair keeps blowing in the wind. You don’t feel exposed in the way you do when speaking of your father to anyone. Rafe’s not judging you or figuring out how to use it against you. His eyes are sincere. Face stoic, but his eyes are sincere. You hate eye contact but if it means getting a better grasp of Rafe, you’d never look away. And you don’t.

“What about you?” You ask with sincerity. “I heard the rumors. The Cameron men butting heads.” You admit sheepishly.

He sighs, turning away. It’s his turn to look away while speaking of the hard stuff in his life. He lays back on the bench seat, long legs stretched out and kicked back up on the rail. “Well… you know… fathers…” it doesn’t take much to see he doesn’t want to speak of it.

Instead, you nod, a small and sad laugh leaving you. “Yeah… fathers.”

The ferry stops at the port a while later after thirty minutes of talking about your classes to him. He’s dropping you off at home, bags of clothes at hand. “By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.” And he drives off, leaving you stumped.

—

Debut one of your new outfits. What the fuck does that mean? You can’t picture yourself going to a party in clothes that aren’t your comfortable ones. Your comfort hoodie and sweats are what you spend most of your time in when out of school.

Getting ready without a friend is depressing. Usually, you’d have Scarlett at your side fluffing up your hair and helping with your makeup. Not that you wore it often but on the rare occasions that you needed to go to an event with your family, she was by your side. And it was during those moments that her honest side shined the brightest. She was careful with you. Honest but not brutal.

You shake your head to get yourself to stop thinking about her. You don’t want to be affected. You don’t want her to have this much of a hold over you. You need to stop loving her.

“Woah, what happened to you?” Anthony’s voice is heard as you make your way to the door. You freeze in your step, not wanting to see him. Your mother had gone on a so-called spiritual retreat in Puerto Rico without telling you so now, you were under Anthony’s care. But he didn’t have kids of his own and you came to him when you were twelve years old, he never had to take care of you.

You turn in your spot, a stiff smile on your face. “Uhm… nothing. Just… going out… to watch a movie…”

He gives you a bore expression, hand in a bag of chips. “You don’t put on a mini-skirt to watch a movie. You’re going to a party, aren’t you? God, you’re a baby, you shouldn’t be wearing that.”

You scoff, “bye, Anthony.” You open up the door and slam it as he’s telling you to be careful.

Rafe’s truck is in your driveway and he’s standing out of it, leaning up against the hood. His eyes are closed and he’s bopping his head gently, singing a quiet song. The sound of your shoes hitting the gravel of the driveway catches his attention, eyes immediately opening and on you.

Your smile is shy as you hold your arms out, showcasing your outfit. It’s a black mini skirt matched with a simple black and low cut top, a leather jacket over it. Simple. But extravagant for you. “So… how do I look?” You really, really want to know.

His eyes are taking you in. Starting from the shoes you picked out, to your thick thighs, your hips, your waist, your chest (which you’re proudly wearing your push-up he bought you), your neck. And he settles on your face. Done up in makeup, hair let loose in its natural form. He gets up off the hood of his car and walks up to you. “You look…” he pauses, eyes flickering across your face again. He's lost in thought, eyebrows furrowed slightly, tongue lightly ghosting his dry lips. You nervously put your weight on your other foot, and this awakens him. “Fine. You look fine.”

“Oh.” You didn’t expect much. But you also didn’t expect very little. “I mean… like, if Jonah were to see me do you think he’d be… starstruck and completely in love.”

This gets something out of him, a small snort of a laugh. “Give a girl a push up bra and she thinks she’s a goddess.”

“Hey!” You laugh with disbelief as you walk after him, the two of you making your way to his truck. “You told me I need to be more confident!” He opens the passenger door with no qualms and helps you in. He closes your side of the door and hops into the driver's seat. “Okay, so what’s the game plan?” You ask as he starts driving out of your driveway, hand stretched behind your seat and looking back for any other cars.

“The game plan is,” he turns the wheel, the veins in his arms popping slightly but you have to force yourself to look away and straight at the road as he starts driving off. “Act nonchalant. People are going to notice the style change but you’re going to ignore it. If they ask, you simply wanted to try something new. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“So… if they compliment me, I… ignore it?”

“You’re hopeless. No, I mean, accept the compliments but brush off other comments.”

“Okay, I’m confused.”

He huffs and before you know it, the two of you are bickering. Back and forth. What he means. What you mean. It’s almost hard to remember that just last week you two weren’t even in the same world. Now, you’re in his truck, wearing the new clothes he bought you and bickering.

The walk into the party is nerve-wracking and all you can think of is how your thick thighs are in the wind. Which means you’re much colder than usual you’re not used to being cold outside, always so wrapped up in your warm clothes. You stop at the patio of the raging house, looking up at Rafe. “So… this is where we part ways?”

This visibly confuses him. “What? Why would we part ways?”

You shrug, “I don’t know… I didn’t come to parties often but the few events I went with Heather… we would part ways.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s stupid. I’m here with you.”

“You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

“I’m not being a dick.”

“That’s you being a dick. I’m not stupid for—“

“I’m not calling you stupid, god.”

“You’re here!” A loud squeal pulls you out of your mini argument with Rafe. Your eyes meet a pair of familiar brown ones. Sarah rushes to you immediately and practically jumps into your arms. You laugh happily as you hug her right back.

“I’m here!”

She pulls away from you with a small pour. She’s drunk. Kiara comes out from behind her, pulling you into a quick side hug. “Guess who else is here?” Sarah’s voice is loud as the four of you walk into the home which is blasting with music.

“Who?”

“Scarlett.” This makes your blood run cold. That little piece of confidence that you carried vanished. You weren’t feeling yourself anymore. She’d see you in your new outfit and would make fun of you.

“We’ve got your back.” Kiara’s arm wraps around your shoulders as you walk side by side. “You won’t have to deal with her alone.”

“By the way, you look so damn good!” Sarah squeals as you all make your way into the kitchen where Kie grabs a few beers and tosses one each to the group. Rafe catches his beer easily and when he notices the slight panic in your face, he catches yours next, opening it quickly for you. You take the beer mindlessly, listening to Sarah drunkenly babble. Kiara’s entertaining her, laughing when she says something she shouldn’t say far too loudly. And you find yourself enjoying it.

You always dreaded parties. When a kid went around inviting everyone, they’d stop with you and Scarlett but only invite her. They would barely spare a glance at you. And at the time, you told yourself it didn’t matter. You’d rather be at home and cuddled up in bed with your cat, binge watching a show. But this… you like this. You like that Kiara and Sarah are bringing you into the conversation even when you’ve been quiet for minutes. You like that Rafe’s by your side like a scary guard dog. Well, you don’t really like that part so much. People are staring. They aren’t used to the Rafe Cameron not having a baddie on his arm.

Kiara and Sarah are in the middle of dancing a silly dance in the kitchen when you turn to Rafe. “No ones even noticing me.”

He snorts out a scoff of a laugh. “I’ve caught like eight guys since we came in, looking at your boobs.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s not anyone noticing me. That’s them noticing my girls. And second, I told you not to say boobs to me.”

“Boobs. Boobs. Boobs. Boobs.”

“God, shut up. You’re gross. There’s no need to— stop!” Back to your bickering, a laugh leaving you when he just won’t quit it.

You’re both in a comfortable space when a shrill of a voice cuts you two off.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Time stands still for a second at the sound of Scarlett’s voice. You and your new friends immediately turn to look at her. And your eyes widen. You’re wearing the same skirt. A laugh bubbles out of Sarah and Rafe’s big hand covers her mouth to shut her up

“You know what I’m wearing.” You retort with a roll of your eyes. Heather angrily puts her red solo cup down, stomping closer to you.

“Do you know how embarrassing this is? You need to change!”

Kiara laughs at this. “Girl, get over yourself. It’s a skirt.”

Scarlett is very clearly exasperated. And upset. It’s weird seeing her so put off. Your eyes don’t leave her as she keeps throwing her tantrum. “It doesn’t even look good on you! You’re… you’re embarrassing yourself.”

Rafe is watching with an amused look to his face. He hadn’t seen the fight, only a few clips that were taken last minute. But he’d never seen them go head to head. And you know he’s been dying to. Rafe is many things but dramatically inclined was not one you had added to your list until recently.

You're about to answer. You’re about to fight back. You wouldn’t let her embarrass you in front of your new friends. Loud gasps and yells erupt when a drunk splashes onto Heather. “Dumb bitch!” It’s Sarah. She threw beer right at Heather’s face which is now dripping down to her clothes.

Scarlett, quick on her feet, grabs her own cup and tosses it. On you. You gasp for air as it falls in your nose. “What the fuck, Scar?! I didn’t do shit?!”

“For not fighting your own fucking battles!” She yells, so angry that her face is red. Which you’re sure is from embarrassment as well. “You’re weak! Always have been and always will be!”

Kiara gets in between the two of you, “back the fuck up.” She hisses. “She’s with us now.”

Scarlett laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. She looks behind Kiara and glares harshly at you. “Hanging with the pogues? Seriously? This is a new level of trashy. Even for you.”

“Alright, alright,” it’s rafe now that grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “You guys are very dramatic.” He tells you as he takes to the other side of the house in the living room.

But you’re frowning. It’s hard not to be upset. And you’re dripping with beer. “My outfit…” you pull your arm from his, stopping. In turn, this stops him and he turns to look down at your sad figure. “It’s ruined…”

He’s quiet. And you’re about to tell him it’s time to call it a night. His hand grabs your chin, making you look up at him. There’s a look of determination on his face, which shocks you greatly. “You’re not giving up. I’m gonna make sure Jonah sees you for the hot piece of ass you are, alright?”

His words send a hot flush through your body. You hate how shy you get when he’s nice. Or when he’s trying to be nice. Even during his kind moments, he’s abrasive. But you’re learning to take him as he is.

“Now, push those boobs up and be confident.”

“Stop saying boobs!”

—

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starburstminibot · 2 days ago

Note

Ok, seeing the post about the playlist, you mentioned how Breakdown only gets his act together after finding out that Bee was carrying

So it got me thinking (and this has actually been in my mind since i first came across the au tbh), but how was it while Bee was like, carrying?? There's the fact that, at first, many of the bots probably don't like Breakdown too since, well, he was not the best bf let's be honest.

Idk, I'm just curious to how things were before Breakcheck came to see the world

(Im going out of town for a week and cant draw so im just answering this with a straight up fanfiction-esk paragraph I’m so sorry wish I could be artistic for you anon)

Long story short: the Autobots are very forgiving but they can also be petty motherfuckers.

I mean they welcomed Megatron among their ranks and treat him (for the most part) as an equal and sometimes even a friend. Of course, Megatron earned that trust after years and years of repentance.

I imagine Breakdown is going through a similar arc. He’s never really been THAT loyal to the Decepticon cause. He just… kinda ended up there and didn’t care enough to do anything about it. He views Autobots as these goody, righteous people that he doesn’t feel like he belongs with. So really… what’s left besides Decepticons (considering yourself a neutral at one point was pretty much a death wish. A faction was the only way to acquire any sort of Energon or medical attention. Something Optimus tried hard to avoid, but the reality was safety in numbers.) the only kinship Breakdown ever felt was with the Stunticons… and they’ve been scattered to who knows where… if they’re even still alive.

Except he did have one friend. A friend he’s somehow managed to keep despite being on opposite sides of the war. He tried to convince Bee to join the Decepticons a few times but it was never with genuine intent. Bee was too good for the Cons; Breakdown knew that. He asked to get a rile out of him more than anything. Of course Bee would retort with his own argument of why BD should defect. He was serious about it… but Breakdown knew his place. He’d already done too much…

Now the war is over. And the leader of his faction doesn’t even believe in the cause anymore. Now, Breakdown’s never been a fan of Megatron anyways, but he sure as hell is pissed off when he abandons them to go be buddies with the Autobots. Maybe Breakdown is a little jealous (Of course, he’d never admit it) That Megatron, possibly the cruelest and most unforgiving of them all, is allowed to be redeemed.

He feels betrayed. All the Decepticons do really… He feels like he was led down a path that would only end in self destruction and at the last moment, the one who was paving the way jumped ship, leaving them all to suffer the consequences alone.

He never even wanted this.

But it’s way too late now. He dug this grave and he’s going to see to it that he’s buried in it. But despite the betrayal, and most of the Decepticons now stabbing each other in the back, trying to claim whatever power they can while holding on to this flimsy cause they can barely call a functioning faction, he still has Bee… who is maybe more than just a friend at this point but that’s a lot of feelings Breakdown isn’t ready to unpack.

And he still runs every time it feels a little too good to be true. Still proclaims his loyalty to the Decepticons because he’s too stubborn to admit he’s on a sinking ship. And he still keeps his distance because he refuses to take Bumblebee down with him when it finally goes under.

And maybe they’ve got a fling going… and maybe the autobots start to catch on. It doesn’t matter though, Breakdown doesn’t stick around long enough to see their sneers.

Until… he finds out Bee’s carrying that is… because damn he may not be the best bot in the galaxy but he’s not a complete deadbeat.

And when it hits him… that he’s going to be a sire… well maybe… he start’s sticking around to see the sneers. He hears the mumbles of disapproval. And boyyy does it make him so angry at first. How dare these holier-than-thou bots. They don’t know him or what he’s had to do to survive. How many comrades he’s lost thanks to them. They don’t know what Bee means to him. They don’t know just how much he loves Bumblebee. How he would lay down his spark for him in a klick.

Then Breakdown questions… Does Bee even know that?

From then on… Breakdown realizes, preserving his ego isn’t worth this. He has a chance now. A real honest chance. To do better… to have the life he actually wants… with the one bot who hasn’t ever given up on him.

He wants it so bad.

So he puts up with the comments and the obvious distrust. Because he’s willing to put in the work it takes to earn it. He’s going to prove how much he wants this. He’s going to prove how much he cares. He’s going to prove he is capable of doing better… and maybe along the way he’ll learn… he’s deserving of better too…

Breakdown is lucky Bumblebee has always been a little spoiled because it didn’t take too much convincing for the autobots to give him a shot. To attempt to accept him into their ranks.

He thought Optimus would be the worst of it. The one who practically raised the bot Breakdown knocked up. And for a while it is. Optimus lectures him every chance he gets. Any small hiccup, any little mistake. He doesn’t go easy on breakdown. Optimus at least pretends to be polite about it, or at least professional.He doesn’t yell, or make unnecessary insults. His words are always very honest (which makes them that much harder to hear) but Breakdown will take it… he’ll sit through it, no matter how hard he has to bite his tongue against saying something he’ll regret. He knows how thin the ice is. But he’ll do it for Bee.

The others are a little more brutal… Elita especially so… they are more sharp with their words (and sometimes their blasters) letting him know just what they think of him.

But no… the worst of all… is Megatron. Because Megatron is probably the only bot in the whole faction who looks at him and empathizes. Breakdown doesn’t want empathy. Especially not from the damn bot who betrayed him. Megatron doesn’t give lectures, he doesn’t verbally or physically abuse him when he steps out of line. He barely even raises his voice. And it pisses Breakdown off more than anything. Sometimes he slips up in front of Megatron just to push his boundaries, just to see if he can break this peaceful facade the ex-brutal-dictator seems to be taking. He’s witnessed the warlord beat bots into scrap for far less… and yet… Megatron won’t. Megatron seems to be attempting to guide Breakdown, to offer a new start to their relationship, and Primus Breakdown wants nothing to do with it. He’d rather be lectured and assigned extra training.

And it takes a long while… longer than Bee’s carrying term, and a little while into Breakcheck’s sparklinghood for the Autobots to really start to come around to him. Optimus’ lectures seem to have a bit of fondness to them. And perhaps Breakdown listens a bit more earnestly and takes to heart some of the genuine advice the Prime gives him. And maybe the sparring with Elita has turned less from a one-sided fight and into an enjoyable workout. And MAYBE… he doesn’t intentionally push Megatron as much, and has come to a realization of his own that his Megatron… is nothing like the one who betrayed him… and perhaps there is more in common between them than he’d like to admit.

And when people look at him now, he’s not just the Con Bumblebee has been sneaking around with. He’s a Sire… and a devoted Conjux…

And maybe this is what he’s always wanted. And he can be deserving of it too.

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salmon-vive · 2 days ago

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just reread your last comic-if will really isn't a threat to ford's dimension, why IS he keeping will in a cage? what i mean is, why did ford go from treating will gently and preciously to treating him like an animal? what happened????

also, how is will there physically? why does he need the portal opened if he's already there? i love your comic, hope its ok i have so many questions!

First of all, im glad you like my comics anon!

Explanation:

¿What happened? thats the same question Will does to himself after crossing the portal. in my comics the silly or calm moments (usually with lighter colors) are the past. Will in a cage is the present, and technically, hes a threat for for dimension since he's powerful ( the cage keep those powers contained).The possible damages Will could do or consequences of the portal where supposed to be studied just for a while...by both of them...but well, that's not what happened.

And, about Ford feelings towards Will, well. birdcage instead of something else, triangles in his clothes... i think that can give you an idea, he still adored Will, in a way.

Hope this gives you a better context! questions are what keep running this blog! however, hope i made this understandable and not mess up by my inexperience in telling stories haha-

NOTES OF TORTURED ARTIST:

i think something possessed me to make this more elaborated. maybe the blog is making me draw faster? idk- dunno if i could do this again. Also, sorry if there's a mistake, i don't respect english at all (For legal reasons this is a joke and actually I would be grateful If there's any corrections-)

#another comic! lets see how many i have left- uh oh uh #Hope finally i can answer a question that i have looking at me in the askbox for a while-#tell me if this one is cool yay or nay #willfordAU #willford #billford #bill cipher #the book of bill #gravity falls stanford #gravity falls #gravity falls au #reverse falls #will cipher

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theambitiouswoman · 3 days ago

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how do you deal with shame? bc i suffered with severe depression and im just getting my own apartment at 30 years old. i still have no degree, the job i go to in ashamed everyday even though it pays my bills and take care of my kids because i see everyone who i went to high school with graduated and some got their masters. im ashamed of what i been through and ashamed of where im in at my life and im carrying deep deep depression and shame because i feel like im not enough and embarrassed of where im at because i know i could’ve did more with my life.

I really want to answer this because I also remember feeling behind at one point and I definitely remember my friends comparing themselves to me because we didn’t make the same life decisions.

Just want to warn you I’m going to give you some compassion combined with a little tough love.

I’m really, REALLY sorry you’re feeling this way. No matter how different your life looks to others, it’s your life. It’s easy to compare yourself to people who seem to have it all figured out, but their paths aren’t yours. Just because you are seeing someone during the good times in their lives, doesn’t mean it will always be that way or that it won’t be for you when the time is right.

I remember feeling so much judgment because all my friends were married, had serious boyfriends, or kids. Back then, I’d leave our dinners in tears, feeling like a failure. Looking back now, the pressure I felt seems almost comical, but it was painful at the time. For context, I’ve been engaged more than once, yet I wasn’t ready to settle. Now, many of those women are divorced and starting over, often without financial independence, while I’m at a high point in my life and considering settling down on my own terms.

The lesson here is that life isn’t a race or a checklist. It’s not linear, and it doesn’t have to follow a timeline. Some people hit their stride at 20, others at 30, 40, or beyond—and that’s okay. Life is meant to be experienced, not rushed. The lessons we learn along the way shape us. Society’s timelines and standards are just that—standards. You don’t have to follow them to live a fulfilling, meaningful life.

Depression is incredibly hard to deal with, and it’s not something I take lightly. But since you’re committed to working on yourself, it’s so important to remind yourself to keep pushing forward. That said, I think you’re being way too hard on yourself right now. Who wouldn’t feel overwhelmed? But let’s take a step back—you have your own apartment for the first time, which is incredible! You have a job that allows you to provide for your kids, putting food on the table and showing up as a parent who loves them deeply. How lucky are they to have you?

From my perspective, you’re incredibly strong. You’ve faced depression and still found the courage to keep building yourself up. That’s no small feat. Don’t let negative thoughts get in your way—practice reframing them. Instead of focusing on what you feel is lacking, focus on how far you’ve come and the amazing things you’re doing right now. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.

You may not like where your life is now, but you have to realize that it is under your control. If you want to change your life now, today, you can. Your life will start to change when you yourself commit to change. And that starts with your thoughts. Work on your perspective. Don’t beat yourself up for what could have happened or didn’t happen because you’re wasting even more time for absolutely nothing. You feel like you’ve wasted years, why would you want to continue wasting any more?

Shame often stems from the story we tell ourselves, so try to shift that narrative. You wouldn’t shame your friends for struggling; you’d remind them of their resilience. Focus on small wins— change your perspective. Start focusing on showing gratitude for the things you do have and what you’ve overcome. Gratitude for everything and anything. Gratitude attracts miracles and abundance. I know this sounds dumb or unrealistic, but it’s true. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to try.

I’m very proud of you and you can do so much more, anything you want if you just had a little bit of faith in yourself. Your worth isn’t defined by what you’ve been through or what you’ve accomplished. It’s defined by the fact that you’re here, trying and pushing forward. That alone makes you more than enough.

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genderqueerdykes · 2 hours ago

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hi so im sorry if this is rude or anything im just kinda confused ab some things. so one of the posts on this blog mentions that if you hate trans men then your transphobic, which i agree with, but does it mean in the sense of if you say you hate all men (including trans men) that makes you transphobic? (typing that out makes me realize how stupid it is 😓) and also a post was speaking ab terfs and it said smthing along the lines of ‘trans men can be lesbian’ and maybe I dont get it but if trans men are men how can they be lesbians if the meaning of being a lesbian is wlw/nblnb (i think thats the right one)?

pls don’t feel like you need to answer or anything, and thanks if you do. have a good day!

hello!

it is still transphobic, yes. this is also antimasculism. saying that you hate all men affects, well... all men. and that includes other queer men, too. men are not a cishet monolith, and it's not good to hate random cishet men, either. the gender of "man" did not hurt you. specific men hurt you. hating and hiding from a gender pathologically will not keep you safe from harm. women can hurt you. non binary people can hurt you. profiling strangers especially gets dangerous because you are assuming things about them. you can't tell if a stranger in public is a cishet man or not just by looking at them. they could be a trans man, a non binary person, a genderfluid person, a closeted/boymoding trans woman, and so on.

manhood is not bad. it's not something dangerous or scary. behaving this way perpetuates the idea that men can never change or improve or try to do better. forcing them into a box of "Disgusting, vile, must be hated" will only make shitty behaviors worse, because this is reinforcing that they can't ever get better, so why bother? might as well keep doing the same shitty things

men can be lesbians, there's no rules. lesbian does not mean woman. anyone of any gender can be a lesbian. many trans men start out in the lesbian community and wish to stay there because we never lose that part of ourselves. many trans men just are lesbians regardless. i honestly highly recommend talking to the butch community and just transmascs in general because i feel like people who assume that it "doesn't make sense" literally just... have not talked to more than a small handful of transmascs

like, my honest suggestion is to just gain exposure to the butch and lesbian communities outside of white cis gender conforming femme lesbians if you're curious about this experience, because it's so common that if you're in a queer space you basically can't throw a rock without hitting a transmasc lesbian somewhere in the process. anyone of any gender can be a lesbian or gay. many trans women start off in the gay community and still identify as gay men ever after realizing they're also trans women. this phenomenon exists in other communities.

people are just needlessly fixated on trans men being lesbians because "oh no! men are so dangerous to the poor defenseless women!!!!!! they can't protect themselves we have to ban everyone and anyone who looks even slightly masc!!!! soft butches ONLY we don't want any masculine people around here they're too scary!!!!!!" that feeling in your brain that tells you that trans men can't be lesbians is a cop, and you're allowed to kill it.

hope that helps! take care!

#asks #answers #lesbian #trans man #trans men #man hating #antimasculism

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fourfanetc · 24 hours ago

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au where instead of scarab getting punished for destroying an authorized universe, it’s prismo who faces punishment for disrupting other universes (i.e. transporting farm world, vamp, baby finn, etc etc to fionna’s universe) and also creating fionnaworld in the first place. ++

he gets promptly demoted into being scarab’s assistant, helping him with his auditing duties and on missions, restricted to being his shadow. Scarab is beyond thrilled, obviously. but prismo on the other hand, quite more so.

after spending millennia in the time room isolated, he gets absolute whiplash at the sights and universes scarab gets to see while on the job. at first he gets embarrassed seeing coworkers scarab is trying to audit but after a few years they both fall into a routine they get used to.

anyway more on scarab. he quite doesn’t get it, in the first few years at least. I’d like to think he absolutely tries to make prismo’s time as his assistant hell while he still can. but seeing his giddy expression with every mission they do, he feels as though this punishment was made for him instead.

where is old man prismo?

> idk haven’t thought that far ahead :p im sure he exists somewhere

does he rank up toward being an auditor?

> personally i don’t really think so,, i think this has something to do with how i see canon scarabs punishment in the show as nothing eternal. so I’d think this isn’t forever for prismo as well—he’d be wishmaster again eventually

when does this take place?

> when fionnaworld was canonized (post-canon shenanigans) while scarab does get a harsh warning prismo here gets serious punishment on his end

sorry for the long rants i just have many ideas for this

#fionna and cake #adventure time #prismo the wishmaster #scarab the god auditor #prohibited wish #prohibitedwish #artists on tumblr #my art #ibispaintx #au #alternative universe #alternate universe #mummy scarab #o em gee ignore the fact that thr numbers r switched hehe

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koalapastries-writes · 2 days ago

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round 2 of the 250s bcuz Am Gay.

drivers reactions to their partner being a total bookworm - im thinking more chaotic-seeming drivers like lando & ollie but u can choose 🤪

-bear ❤️

as a bookworm child i feel very qualified to write this 🫡

arthur leclerc:

sooooo confused

has probably only read books for school and even then probably tried to watch the movie version at every opportunity

yk how some people aren't able to picture what they're reading so it really is just words to them? that's arthur.

never really enjoyed reading for that reason

(and bc it's a slow activity and he really just wants to go Fast)

really doesn't understand why you enjoy it so much at first

and then you read out loud to him one time and

oh maybe this isn't so bad

franco colapinto:

ok i'm sorry bear ik you're not really into franco but like

i don't think he's sat still for long enough to read a book once in his whole life

even movies are likely to have him fidgeting unless he has something to occupy his hands

(... i may have accidentally developed an adhd!franco agenda. send help.)

literally the only times he's in one place for longer than five or so minutes are when he's asleep (sometimes) and when he's cuddling you

if you read to him while you're cuddling, that's the only way he can understand bookworms

lando norris:

i have a feeling that lando is the same with books as he is with fish

acts like he's been mortally wounded and/or poisoned if he's in the same vague area with one

then he finds out that you, his beloved boyfriend, are a book lover?

he's so dramatic about it.

whines for days and days

absolutely gets so pouty if he catches you reading when he's home with you or you're at a race

doesn't matter if nothing else is happening

he'll still feel betrayed

he will also demand that you give him cuddles as repayment

but not before you shower off the scent of books

ollie bearman:

contrary to the others, i think he kinda loves it right out of the gate?

he likes that you ground him and that you can sorta take him out of reality when he needs it

not really a big reader by himself but will happily sit and read your book over your shoulder

will ask so many questions but it's endearing bc he knows you enjoy the story and he's trying to make sure he understands it so he can follow your ramblings later

10/10 sweetheart

#vinnie's 250 #formula 1 x male reader #arthur leclerc x male reader #franco colapinto x male reader #lando norris x male reader #ollie bearman x male reader #🐻 anon

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atsro-slut · 2 days ago

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Heyy astro! So I just fell ill out of nowhere, so I gotta cancel so many plans 😔 Being sick sucksss, especially when you finally have a break from school 😮‍💨 Could I please ask a nice comforting fic about Remus taking care of reader when she's sick? Possibly with her feeling nauseous (without actually getting sick) and being triggered bc of her Emetophobia? Thanks lovely! 🫶

Comfort in the Quiet, Calm in the Storm

Hi hun!! Im sorry you're sick :( I hope you feel better and enjoy the fic!!

Remus Lupin x female!reader

Remus helps Y/N feel better when she falls sick!

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

It was a cold evening at Hogwarts when Y/N first felt it—an odd, unsettling sensation in the pit of her stomach. She tried to ignore it at first, busying herself with homework in the Gryffindor common room. The flickering firelight and the comforting presence of the castle were usually enough to keep her grounded, but today was different. The nausea seemed to worsen with every passing minute, and soon she found herself clutching her abdomen, trying to breathe through the sudden discomfort.

“Y/N?”

Remus Lupin’s voice brought her back to the present. She glanced up, meeting his warm brown eyes across the room. He had been studying at the table nearby, but his gaze was now fixed on her, concern written all over his face.

“I’m fine,” Y/N muttered, shaking her head in an attempt to brush off the queasiness. “Just a bit of a stomachache.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You don’t look fine. Come here, love,” he coaxed gently, his tone soothing.

Y/N didn’t resist. She knew he wouldn’t let it go, and honestly, she was grateful. As much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t feel fine at all. In fact, she felt like her whole body was on the edge of something she couldn’t control.

She slowly stood up and walked over to where Remus was sitting. He shifted aside to make room for her, and as she sank into the armchair beside him, he instinctively reached for her hand.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he said softly, his thumb gently tracing the back of her hand.

“I don’t know,” Y/N whispered. “I just feel… off. A bit dizzy. My stomach’s turning, but it’s not—” She stopped herself, aware of what she was about to say. The word hung heavy on her tongue, a word she tried so hard to avoid. She swallowed, willing herself to stay calm.

Remus’s eyes softened with understanding. “You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to,” he said gently. “But I’m here for you. Whatever it is.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over her just from hearing him say that. It was rare for her to open up about her struggles with emetophobia, especially with the one person she cared about most. Remus had always been understanding, but today, her fear felt overwhelming. Her stomach churned at the thought of getting sick—something she hadn’t been able to control since childhood—and her mind began to spiral.

“I’ll get you something,” Remus continued, sensing her distress. “Something to settle your stomach. You’ll feel better soon.”

Y/N gave a shaky smile, grateful for his calm presence. He always seemed to know how to make her feel better, how to soothe her even when the world felt out of control.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

The evening stretched on, and Y/N couldn’t shake the sensation of nausea that clung to her. She had tried to drink some water, but it hadn’t helped. She had curled up under a blanket beside Remus on the couch, but the nausea still gnawed at her insides, and the dizziness refused to leave.

"Do you want me to get Madame Pomfrey?" Remus asked after a long silence, his voice careful.

Y/N shook her head quickly, but the movement only made her feel worse. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady herself, but she couldn’t escape the overwhelming sense of discomfort.

"I’m fine, really," she replied, her voice strained. "I just need a minute."

Remus didn’t push further. Instead, he carefully shifted so that he was sitting behind her, supporting her back with a cushion. His hands were warm and steady as he placed one on her shoulder, rubbing soothing circles on her skin.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice like a gentle lullaby. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The kindness in his tone made Y/N’s heart ache. She had always been so terrified of being judged, of appearing weak or fragile, especially around him. But Remus never made her feel that way. He never once looked at her with pity, and that was something she cherished more than anything.

She leaned back against him, resting her head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a rhythm she found grounding, and it helped her focus on something other than the sickening feeling in her stomach. She closed her eyes, listening to the quiet, to the sound of his breath, and allowed herself a small moment of peace.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Remus asked after a while, his voice soft, barely a whisper.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She had been carrying this fear around for so long, and though she had told Remus bits and pieces before, she had never truly opened up about how severe her emetophobia could be.

"I don't know if I can," she admitted, her voice trembling.

Remus didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he simply continued to hold her, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos of her mind.

When he finally spoke again, it was with a quiet understanding. “You don’t have to tell me everything, love. But if you want to talk, I’m here.”

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she had never been able to express. She had always been afraid of burdening others with her fear, especially Remus, but the kindness in his voice and the gentleness of his touch made it feel just a little less daunting.

“I’m scared,” she whispered. “I hate this feeling. The nausea, the thought of being sick. I just… I can’t handle it. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Her chest tightened, her breathing becoming shallow. Remus’s arms tightened around her as if he could somehow absorb the tension in her body. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Whatever you need.”

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” Y/N continued, her voice barely audible. “I just want it to stop. I’m afraid of being out of control. Of not being able to stop it when it happens.”

Remus’s thumb brushed against her temple, as though brushing away her worries. “I know, Y/N. I know you don’t want to feel like this. But you’re not alone. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

He kissed the top of her head, his touch tender and reassuring. “We’ll get through this together. One step at a time.”

Y/N clung to his words, willing herself to believe them, even as her fear threatened to swallow her whole.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

The night stretched on, the fire crackling softly in the background, and the hours passed in quiet conversation. Remus didn’t try to rush her through the nausea; instead, he focused on calming her mind, drawing her attention away from the spiral of thoughts that threatened to take over.

As time went on, Y/N began to feel a little less overwhelmed. The nausea was still there, lingering in the background, but it wasn’t as suffocating. She had Remus with her, and that made all the difference.

“Do you want some tea?” Remus asked, his voice soft. “I think it might help settle your stomach.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for the suggestion. “Yes, please,” she murmured.

Remus rose from the couch and moved toward the small kitchenette in the corner of the common room. He returned shortly with a steaming mug of chamomile tea, the aroma of the herbs filling the air.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her the cup. “It’s not much, but it should help.”

Y/N took the mug from him, the warmth of the tea comforting against her chilled fingers. She took a slow sip, letting the soothing liquid settle in her stomach. For the first time all evening, she felt a small glimmer of relief.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Remus smiled, his eyes soft. “Anytime, love. You don’t ever have to go through this alone.”

She smiled back, leaning into his side once again. For the first time in hours, the knot in her stomach began to loosen. The fear wasn’t completely gone, but it didn’t feel as overpowering. And with Remus there beside her, it felt a little easier to breathe.

They sat in silence for a while, just being together. The world outside seemed distant, irrelevant in the face of their quiet comfort.

Y/N’s head rested on Remus’s shoulder as they watched the flames dance in the fireplace. She didn’t feel entirely better yet, but with him there, it felt like the storm inside her had calmed—just a little.

And in that small moment, she realized that maybe that was enough for now. She had him. And that was all she needed to make it through the storm.

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alfpennyworth · 2 days ago

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Hello, My name is Alfred Thaddeus Pennyworth. I am 51 and about 6’2. I like to bake, Fix cars, read, drink occasionally, listen to classical and some new music, sketch, and listen to Bruce wine like a child.

I am from London and a former special forces soldier and Im great with my hands. (And axe)

I work for (or should I say he works for me?) Bruce Wayne, yes that Bruce Wayne. Playboy billionaire.

I have many “Grandchildren” that live in the Wayne manner so feel free to ask about them.

OCC:

Hello, this blog is basically just a RP/Alfred’s online diary account.

My face-claim for him is Jeremy Irons from the Zach Snyder DC movies. And I will reference some of his scenes sometimes!

I am a minor, though I’m fine with adults interacting as long as your not being weird/making me uncomfortable. You guys can call me Lei, if you need any other info/just want to know my interest dm me!

No nsfw, you can do light flirting (idk anyone who would but just in case) but no sex or anything like that.

I mainly just made this blog because I really like Alfred, he’s a very silly guy and I just want to throw him around like a ragdoll. And a lot of this is just headcannons I have for Alfy.

I have adhd and I’m a little awkward so I’m sorry if I forget things or my chats are a little dry.

I also really love the joker! So I’m always looking for joker accs to interact with.

Basic dni’s but also dni if you’re a batcest shipper, proshipper, or your a Hellava/Hasbin rp account/fan.

Sorry if I spam like your account, it’s just most of you guys are really funny.

#dc rp #dcu #dc universe #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #alfred pennyworth #dc rp blog #dc roleplay #tim drake #batfam

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aronaax · 2 days ago

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i will never understand why some people, and especially in this fandom, will go out of their way to be so cruel just because someone interprets a character they like in a different way to them. i hate how fandom spaces, and it’s gotten a lot worse recently, will witch hunt anyone for the most mundane things. at the end of the day they’re just finding comfort in fiction, why is there such a big issue with that? why do you feel the need to tear down someone for liking something and having something that makes them happy?

even though we haven’t know each other long, i consider desk a friend of mine and lemme just say in the short time i’ve known him, i think he is the sweetest most down to earth guy u will meet. he’s funny, witty and creative and the way he portrays clef is (probably) the most accurate portrayal of clef i’ve seen (at least in my opinion). as someone who also finds comfort in clef and meri’s characters, i don’t see any issue with what he does, and for these people to say things like these is disrespectful and disgusting. who tf cares??? its not that deep??? i get being insane over your blorbo but is it really that serious that you need to attack someone just because “oh he doesn’t talk about meri enough”. and i’m saying this as a hardcore meri enjoyer

im incredibly sorry this happened to you. no one deserves this, and there’s no excuse for it. you are one of the few creators that have inspired me and many others in many ways so keep being epic 🫶 also ur literally clef fr don’t let anyone tell u otherwise

How I became The Desk of Alto Clef.

My response to a SCP Group designed around Hate and Bigotry who have targeted me and others in this community.

Nah, man, my daughter is dead.

It has been brought to my attention that there is a group of people on the internet who are fascinated with my fascination of Alto Clef and Meri. Hurtful and yet cute in a way so I think now I'll choose this time and these screen grabs from their discord to explain how I came to be 'The Desk of Alto Clef'.

My Daughter died six years ago and it sent me spiraling deep into the bottom of whatever bottle I could find.

I was completely prepared to take my own life and even had the things to 'finish the job' because my life had no meaning at that point. What was another statistic going to matter anyways, right?

It was in one of these dark, drunk moments with a gun when I fell across the Volgun's video on 'reality benders and you' and fell into a rabbit hole.

Drunkenly I fumbled around the wiki and learned more about this broken man known as Alto Clef.

A man whom I could relate to in my own way. A man who, no matter what he did, could never see his daughter as I will never be able to see mine. So thus, I became a very, very shitty cosplayer.

I like to believe that over the past four years my acting ability has increased to a sustainable level and as much as I joke about things I do try to stay humble about it. Though I like to think I've become better but I digress.

I love the lore of Clef and Meri, on or offsite, to the point that I am weird about it I know, but that's how I stay connected to my daughter. Writing the Deskverse is how I stay connected to my daughter.

I am also autistic which causes me to hyper fixate on Clef as a coping mechanism.

Because of this group of people I have greatly considered leaving the community and going back to my own personal solitude. Acting, Voice Acting, Cosplaying as Clef gave and still gives me something to live for again. I may not be this group's cup of tea but I do like to believe that I have helped others. My main goal has always been to uplift those who need uplifting. I do not want anyone to ever feel how I felt in my lowest and darkest moments.

The main story in the deskverse is about a father and a daughter torn apart by the actions of an abusive mother. My real life story.

I also have ZERO clue as to why I am being involved with misogyny or yuri things. If I have offended you in any way I do apologize.

I do not plan on posting the more 'suggestive' or 'lewd' responses they have made. Overly sexualized content does make me extremely uncomfortable.

This group of people have broken my heart into pieces. Seeing this list of images and names dragging me through the mud has already smashed my unstable self-esteem as it is.

At this time I do not plan on releasing any names associated with all of this because I am honestly tired of reliving the most horrid event of my life over and over because I, for whatever reason, do not fit what this group feels is acceptable of an actor/writer/fan.

I cannot say the same for the others in which they were assaulting.

In summary Alto Clef is an outlet for the pain I live with every day. I can never see, hold, hear, smell, or speak to my daughter. I have scars on my body from her mother that will never allow me to forget that life I had. I will always remember the taste of gunpowder but thankfully my drunk ass was too weak. If your going to be bad at something, be bad at that I suppose.

I will leave all of this with a final image from the copious list and the one that honestly hurts me the most. I am honestly a shy and reserved person and frankly it takes a lot for me to get out of my comfort zone. Not long ago I went to another SCP discord server because I wanted to meet new people and someone in there was awesome. I truly enjoyed my time with this person and just found them amazing. They were kind, open, willing to listen to my ideas, and gushed over Numberonedoggo. I thought I had finally made a new friend on my own. I was apparently wrong.

Art, from some of my favorite artists, was made for the sole reason of mocking me specifically. To laugh at me for finding joy in something that gives me purpose. Something I use to drive away the darkness.

No age, disorder, illness, or reason at all can be acceptable for anyone to act in this way. You are all a mockery of everything the SCP community should stand for.

-TheDesk

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