#like i HATE having chronic pain i HATE IT and i feel childish for having such a severe reaction

[alienaiver]

FOUND DGM MERCH IN THE JUMP STORE

[annoyinglandmagazine]

I’ve been thinking about Miriel and her impact on the House of Feanor on the whole, as you do, and I was thinking what if she haunted the narrative even more? I think it’s pretty well established that she was depressed in some shape or form, that there were mental health problems contributing heavily but there were definitely physical aspects as well, ‘But in the bearing of her son Miriel was consumed in spirit and body; and after his birth she yearned for release from the labour of living.’ And I know that Feanor being Feanor was ascribed as a huge cause of this, that he was just so much stronger than the average elf that his birth was particularly taxing but I’m going to go ahead and assume that even if Feanor had been a perfectly normal baby Miriel would have been impacted. It just feels almost like this infant is being blamed for his mother’s death which, while definitely plausible as something that happened in universe, doesn’t really feel fair to him.

I’m theorising Miriel had underlying conditions from long before she became pregnant that made her prone to things like fainting, exhaustion, chronic pain and that in all honesty her having a child was never going to be a good idea. But they wanted a family together and where could be a safer place to raise one? Everything was perfect and safe, why shouldn’t they be able to overcome this little obstacle to doing what everyone else seemed to be doing without issue? Towards the end she was entirely bedridden, not even strong enough to sit at her loom.

Finwë was relieved beyond measure when Feanor seemed to grow almost exceedingly strong and healthy, as if he’d gotten all the strength Miriel had been missing, and he thought that was the matter laid to rest, Feanor was fine and any children of his would be as well. Except they weren’t. Nerdanel’s pregnancies were always a time of great panic, not for her health really because it wasn’t Feanor’s genes they were worried about it was Miriel’s. And Nerdanel was nothing like Miriel but her children…..

Ñolofinwe watches Feanor pacing the palace in a frenzy while a crowd of healers stream in and out of a room down the hall, some five times the standard amount, and he wants to try and reassure him but knows he, with his perfectly healthy baby boy, delivered with no fuss by one midwife just like his two perfectly healthy sons beforehand, to go home to, is the last person in Arda his brother could stand to converse with right now.

The sons and daughters of Fingolfin and Finarfin grew swiftly, strong and athletic with hearty appetites and bright dispositions. Feanor could not bring himself to hate children so he settled for hating his brothers instead. He does not envy them their children, he loves his more than he could ever have loved anything and that’s the problem right there, he loves his sons and he’s absolutely terrified that he’s going to lose them if he lays them down too long. They’re so small and as soon as they leave his or Nerdanel’s arms they seem to tremble with cold so he sleeps with them against his chest for more of the first years of their lives than was usual. After those many sleepless nights he always finds it hard to sleep without being able to feel the rise and fall of their breathing.

Their cousins often do not understand what the difference between them and the Feanorians is, most of them have vague memories of getting scolded within an inch of their lives for fighting one back when they got into childish arguments. Mostly they just resented it or assumed it was favouritism if it were by Finwe or fear of Feanor’s wrath if by their own parents. Angrod did not think too long on how easily Caranthir crumpled to the ground at an unexpected shove, after all he was the older wasn’t he? Surely the rules about being gentle shouldn’t apply? He was equally puzzled when Fingolfin came running and scooped Caranthir into his arms, pale and panicked as Maedhros assured him he’d make certain Feanor wouldn’t hear about the matter if he was alright.

They train and become agile and skilled with blades and bows if not physically broad and strong in the way of their cousins but no matter how their health improves there are always concerns and during their approaching adulthood it becomes clear their worries are not only in body. There are migraines that leave them in dark rooms unable to bear even the sound of footsteps outside, days where Curufin and Maedhros struggle to allow any food past there lips, days where Caranthir sobs for hours with some inexplicable ache, weeks where Maglor cannot find rest no matter how much exhaustion he feels, little cuts and gashes on Celegorm’s arms that seem too frequent to be fully accidental.

If you were to look at this from a modern perspective it would probably be some genetic tendency to bipolar disorder and major depression but they wouldn’t have that kind of language because in my headcanons about Valinor they have very little experience with mental illness and no idea how to respond to it. I’m citing the whole Miriel incident to back me up there.

And just to make this even more angsty have a Tyelko quote from the fic of this I may or may not write ‘Amme always said we were her miracles, that our survival and strength was a blessing from the Valar. I was lucky to make it to my first winter. I wonder now if things wouldn’t have been better for everyone else if I hadn’t.’

[tonydaddingham]

okay let's get them hard truths out in the open following episode 6, bearing in mind that i am in the UK and am therefore chronically sleep-deprived, and have watched the Feral Domestic™ maybe only like oh 7 times:

crowley is as much at fault as aziraphale. they are both as bad as each other. their own individual idiosyncrasies are literally the other's emotional downfall and if im honest im not entirely sure there's any way they can adequately move past it.

waxed on and on and on about it, but aziraphale's issue is not that he has any allegiance to heaven. he doesn't at all, and that is obvious in his initial reaction to the metatron, in that he essentially says that he knows his place and it is not Up Above. it is right there in the bookshop, and with crowley (even if he didn't consciously think it that explicitly at the time). he doesn't want any part of the heaven that it currently is, he has had enough and is tired of trying to be the angel that hides who he is and what he wants from his existence. that much is very much clear.

but the mantra throughout most of life is to be the change you want to see in the world. look at the major societal issues that are happening in the world today; people are rising up and fighting for what is right, and what they believe in, and wanting to make changes. now look at this opportunity that aziraphale has been given. regardless of the questionable motive of the metatron offering it to him; if you were in his position, could you say you'd find it easy to refuse that?

the issue here with aziraphale is that he (again, ill harp on about it until the cows come home) thinks that crowley - this demon that isn't a good demon because he is good and kind and gentle - would want to have his place in making that change happen; be by aziraphale's side whilst they create the world and heaven that is different from the largely shit one they've always known, hated, and feared. this is where the Pedestal comes in; like i said before, aziraphale has now been confronted with the fact that this demon, his best friend and love of his life, is acting in the way he's always acted but that aziraphale refuses to acknowledge... because to acknowledge crowley's shortcomings (which ill discuss in a sec) would be to question aziraphale's faith in him, and mean falling from the pedestal that has been aziraphale's status quo for the last few thousand years at minimum.

edit: this also needed adding because it touches on aziraphale's tendency to hold himself superior to crowley, which he also does in the Domestic scene.

crowley's issue is twofold. one, he cannot move on from the fall. second, that he is sometimes a manipulative and childish shit. the first is obvious, and his recent experiences with heaven have only compounded this (ie his conversation with gabriel/goob, where he lays into him about gabriel's part in the cruelty shown towards aziraphale to the point he almost makes goob kill/injure himself). crowley can also however be incredibly cruel borne out of his own pain. there were major hints in s2 that not only did crowley fall (no matter what the metatron says, im still not convinced he fell for only asking questions) but he fell from a great sodding height that in his mind should have made him untouchable. my thoughts on morality in heaven have already been discussed, but that must have had a huge impact on crowley; it is no wonder that it's a sore point and he feels bitter, resentful, and angry.

in the above context, id want nothing to do with heaven either. but crowley doesn't communicate and im guessing that his feelings about the fall are a No Go area in terms of what he's shared with aziraphale... so for crowley to assume that aziraphale turned down the metatron is grossly unfair - how was aziraphale necessarily meant to know how deep his trauma (if we're applying human mental health constructs) runs? he isn't to know that at all - so it does track that aziraphale would think that crowley would want to help him make a difference so they don't have to keep getting involved in the toxicity that is the heaven/hell politico-moral dichotomy.

what also upset me about the Domestic was the kiss. i loved it for what it was in isolation and it was a long time coming, and a huge movement in the dance they constantly have with each other, but it was in essence manipulative. i realise crowley was on his last emotional straw and yes, perhaps the love and devotion got too much for him to contain... but he literally just stood there and heard aziraphale tell him that he wanted crowley and he wanted them to be together. there were no qualms at all that aziraphale loves him as much as he loves aziraphale. so, what was the kiss meant to prove?

to my mind, it was manipulation; specific, a temptation. whilst very romantic and 'sweep him off his feet with the violins playing', it was also non-consensual and unwarranted on crowley's part - to the point of being derogatory and redundant (lets be clear: not a criticism on Neil for adding the kiss, im purely talking about crowley as a character and his Choices here). there was nothing to prove, nothing that that kiss could have possibly convinced aziraphale to do. so the only thing that leaves, imo, is that it was a temptation. crowley does not typically use temptation in this way, or at least that's the impression ive had throughout s1 and s2, so he chooses now is the time? to tempt aziraphale into staying with him? of course he does!

he's desperate, but also childish and immature and completely ignorant of what aziraphale is actually saying to him. aziraphale never denied him; aziraphale wanted him in this opportunity exactly by his side as he always has been. but that didn't fit with what crowley wanted, so he tried to make aziraphale bend to his will. aziraphale says the fatal words "i forgive you", but if he has (as i suspect he has) realised that crowley was trying to manipulate him... well, id probably say something as damning to crowley as 'i forgive you' too.

when aziraphale said 'nothing last forever', i realise crowley took that to mean him and the life that they built together, but it obviously wasn't that at all. aziraphale is saying that they have eternity ahead of them, that he wants to spend it with crowley, whatever has to end around them (ahem the world? apocalypse from s1, anyone?). aziraphale demonstrated consistently throughout s2 that he is trying to give crowley his own agency where heaven/hell are concerned (paraphrased but: "I want you to help me but if you don't want to, you are free to leave"). crowley however seemed that he was constantly one foot out the door in case things got Too Much (which, you know - valid) but aziraphale really did his best to make crowley not only not feel suffocated but also that crowley was wanted. and for anyone that is a tough balancing act.

the two of them have had 6000+ years of Not Really Communicating. this is the detritus that remains when they don't, and it was absolutely needed in this season. for them to break apart and break in and of themselves. s3 needs to be where they learn more about themselves than each other, and stop believing that the other is infallible, because such thinking - worship, blind faith - only ends badly.

[loverslantern]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: The aftermath of injury leads to a desire for comfort.

Warning: Mentions of injury, hospitals, probably incorrect info on concussions, mentions of alleged abuse (like for a second but not in great detail), fluff. P.S: Idc if reader is coming off a little childish in the beginning, i said it before and i’ll say it again reader is honestly almost completely based off of me and something about me is that i hate hospitals. I’m a chronically ill girlie and i still despise them, every time ive had to go ive complained—it’s who i am as a person.

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn

Word count: about 2k

Rest

(Master list, Prev Ch, Next Chapter)

“So where to next?” I ask as I buckle my seat, allowing my head to rest finally. I am more than happy to leave behind this apple-loving, pagan-worshiping town.

“‘Bringin’ you to a hospital” Dean answers, starting the car. I jolted up, immediately regretting the action as the pain in my head spiked and my vision wobbled. “Nooo. No. No hospital” I plead, not caring if I sounded pathetic, “I hate hospitals!”

“I wasn’t asking if you wanted to go, sweetheart” he quips. “No, please! I’m totally fine, sure I'm a little beat up but nothing a bandaid and sleep can’t fix.”

“You’re not winnin’ this one” he replies with a little half shrug. I turned to Sam, who already had the map out, and pulled open. “Sam, help me.”

“Sorry Y/N, Deans right.”

Dean sighs dramatically, “I love bein’ right.”

“Shut up” Sam half laughs, “Seriously though Y/N, you probably have a concussion. You should get checked out for a definitive answer.”

“Okay, well, Dean he was hit over the head with a gun too.” I try and deflect. Sam turns his head to face me giving me a “really?” look, “He’s also walking and talking fine, and doesn't look like he’s fighting to keep his eyes open.” I thought I was talking and walking just fine despite feeling like everything was spinning and I was doing a wonderful job of ignoring the ringing in my ears.

I open my mouth to make another retort but I don’t get a single sound out before Dean cuts me off, “If you try any of your escapes I'm callin’ your brother.” That shuts me up, I love my brother but he's very protective and will yell at me if it means being safe. I lean back against the soft seats of the car, pouting, I hate hospitals. I catch Dean's eyes staring at my lips in the rearview mirror, “You can pout as much as you want to, ‘still going.”

I know I'm acting like a child but hospitals are the worst, sure the doctors can be nice but there's so much always going on that it's just too overwhelming and they poke and prod at you. And especially as a hunter, you must make such elaborate lies just to be seen.

The dark-haired doctor removes the small yet extremely bright light from my eyes, “You have a minor concussion” she concluded after the many tests she ran, “there's not much we can prescribe you. But you need a lot of rest and to relax, no drinking or crazy activities for at least a week. You can take Advil in 24 hours if the pain is too much.” If the boys were in this curtained-off room they would most certainly say ‘I told you so.’

She suddenly looks a little nervous, staring back at the curtain before looking at me again, speaking quietly, “This is a safe environment, if those boys are hurting you I can help you.” Her eyes slipped to my wrist, of course she saw the bruises and made the connection to restraints. And so much of my appearance from the now cleaned and bandaged wound on my head to my dirt-stained clothes would lead her to that thought.

I tug down my sleeves, trying to cover them, “No! No, they didn't do anything, they would never do that to me, seriously” I insist, eyes wide. She doesn't seem so convinced, “Look” I sigh, “The person who did this is being charged, alright the cops know about all this. The boys I came with did not do this.” It was mostly a lie, of course, but the point was to clear their names, that part was true. She nods, “I’ll be back with your discharge papers.”

She pulls back the curtains, and the second she's out of sight I sigh. I know it's her job but in this case it wasn't helpful, I didn't want any further fights or complications to go on today.

….

I hold a hand up, “I don't want to hear it. Yes, you were right.” Sam’s lips curve up into a smile, “Hey I said I don't wanna hear it” I cut them both off before they could say anything. Dean swings his arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side, “Like I said, ‘love bein’ right.”

It was still early afternoon when we pulled up to the motel. It was just your regular-looking motel, with two floors of rooms to choose from with dingy lighting but I could not be more happy. We all exited the car rather quickly, it had been a long couple of days. I grab my bag meeting the boys by the trunk, Dean distributing our duffle bags. But when he gets to mine he doesn't hand it over, just closes the trunk, “I can carry my own bag, you know.”

He shrugs, “I know.” God, he was a sweetie pie. I study him as he walks just a few steps ahead of me, after everything that transpired I don't think I want to be alone. I wasn't scared per se, I just wanted comfort and I didn't have any stuffed animals packed. I didn't want to be a burden to him, he was probably tired and would want a bed to himself. But maybe I could just hang in their room for a long while.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, stopping to look back at me. Of course, he could practically sense it. He places our bags on the concrete, getting close enough that I could easily breathe him in. He lifts his hands to cup my face gently, he’s been doing that a lot lately. “‘Your head hurtin’?” He was looking down at me so carefully, his green eyes softening as he watched me. I have to remind myself to respond even as my thoughts extinguish each time his thumbs caress my cheeks, careful to pass over the bruises there, “Well yes but that's not…” I don't finish my sentence not having a single idea of what I should say to him. He looks down at me expectantly, just waiting. I wanted to hug him, keep my head buried in his chest even as my head pounded like a bass playing through an amp, but I can’t exactly say that.

I sigh, “Is it okay if…” I swallow, speaking quietly, “Can I stay with you?”

His eyes widened a fraction and if I wasn't looking right up at him I would have missed it entirely. It's not like this was anything new for us, we've cuddled before while watching a movie or something and even slept in the same bed if needed for a hunt. But to ask like this somehow felt so different, so much more personal. “Of course” he answers simply, eyebrows scrunched together as if he was insulted that I would be so hesitant to ask. He lets go of my face, and I immediately miss the steadiness of it all, he takes a single step back but not before grabbing hold of my hand and picking up our duffles to hold in his free hand.

We catch up to Sam in the small lobby, two keys in his hand instead of the usual three. Was it a coincidence that they just didn't have a room I could use or did he just know? I guess it was possible he saw us in the parking lot and figured out what I would want, am I that easy to read?

….

The room was quite nice, the walls were grey with some white detailing. And the beds were big, most likely a queen, with the crisp white blankets and a tall cushioned headboard. Sam walks in first, choosing the bed on the far side of the room, which was predictable at best seeing as Dean preferred being closer to the door out of a sense of protectiveness.

Dean places his duffle on the bed, handing me mine, “You can take a shower first” he says, telling me more than offering. I swing off my messenger bag, placing it on the bed before looking between both boys, “Are you sure?” I was already intruding in their room and his bed I didn't want to take over the bathroom too. They both nod their heads, I mumble thanks before heading there.

I didn’t care to study the bathroom, just wanting to be under the hot water and wash away the dirt and feelings of the day. I turn the shower on, lifting my shirt over my head before having to stop with it halfway off of me to stop the room from spinning. I close my eyes forcing myself to relax and not sway as I stripped down to nothing.

Being naked only made my bruises look worse. My wrists were rubbed raw, painful red marks adorning each one, and my cheeks had dark bruises on them from being punched twice over the span of a couple of days. Never mind the gash on the corner of my forehead, which I’d have to bandage again after the shower, and the subtle black and blues on my side likely from being thrown to the ground.

I swallow hard, I don’t want to think of any of this anymore. I step into the rather small shower, the hot water pouring over my head and down my body taking the tension with it as it went down the drain.

I step out of the steamy bathroom feeling infinitely times better despite the spinning room and hurting head. My hair was wet and clean and felt lighter now that it was no longer dusted with dirt, and I was in comfortable pajamas.

Yes, it wasn’t nighttime yet or time to sleep but that doesn't mean a girl can’t wear comfortable clothes. It was nice to be in pajamas, wearing some white plaid pants and a loose tee with a cute little embroidered bear in the corner and of course an oversized sweater because somehow I was always cold. It was a wonderful yet small feat.

Dean’s sitting up in bed, both boys watching some football game on the small TV. I slump into the bed carefully lying my head down as I get underneath the covers. Dean seemed to study me for a moment, smiling softly, he was probably trying to assess how I felt. Whatever he was looking for he seemed to find, nodding to himself before getting up and heading to the bathroom with a change of clothes. A moment later the shower turns on.

I sink into the bed further, turning away from the TV, I didn’t care enough for sports to want to watch it anyway. The weight of the past few days catch up to me quickly, my eyelids feeling heavier and heavier.

….

The bed beside me suddenly sinks down, and my eyes flutter open being met with Dean’s familiar frame, “Sorry sweetheart didn’t mean to wake you.” I shake my head, I must have been out for just a couple of minutes, “It’s okay” I mumble still on the outskirts of sleep. He gets under the covers, his black shirt accentuating the muscles in his arms as he moves.

Once he situates himself he holds his arms open to me, silently asking if I wanted to get closer. He always seemed to know what I wanted or what I felt, sometimes I feared he knew me too well. I shift closer to him and he meets me halfway pushing me the rest of the way into him.

He practically places my head on his chest, close to his shoulder, his arm closes in on me holding me impossibly closer to him, his hand resting on my waist. His body warmth immediately reaches me, and in his embrace, any fears or anxieties I had the last few days seemed to dissipate. I place a hand on his chest feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The hand on my waist begins to move slightly, his thumb rubbing slow circles into my side, my heart seems to flutter and I fear I won't be able to move on from this. It is moments like these that I find it hard to keep my feelings to myself, my love seems to bustle in my veins threatening to spill out. And with everything I have in me, I must bottle them back in, even as he places a soft kiss on my forehead and I think my heart just took off flying.

I melt into him, neither of us saying anything–not that we needed to. I can feel his rings on my side and the comforting weight of his hand there, the warmth he let off and his scent of something like pine or maybe it was wood, and just for a moment under the fog of a mild concussion, I imagine a forever like this. Being able to fall asleep each night to his hold and wake with him still there right beside me.

[starjunkyard]

A scene of foreman telling house in ep21 s8 that "persevering through pain for loved ones... isn't that what life is?" before being followed up by a scene of house screaming at taub in the middle of the hospital hallway that life is pain. Life is pain. His entire life is pain. How he wakes up everyday and thinks about ending it. And yet hes still fucking here and what is that if not a confirmation that house's entire life is lived for wilson

Its so like. Because from an outsider's perspective its so childish. Its so out of bounds though thats completely in character for house; you don't tell people whether they should live or die, least of all if they're diagnosed with a terminal illness you know will suck the life out of them every second they aren't in the ground. You don't get to tell people that you dont have that right but. But. but

House is here and house is in pain. He's hurting and he's been hurting and he wants that to end but its been an unspoken agreement for years that wilson would never forgive house if he just gave up. Wilson would never let him do that. He would never ever forgive house for that not ever

So house is here!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He is alive!!!!!!!!!!!! Because wilson is his best friend and house cannot live in a world where wilson hates him even if he isnt around to feel it. So house persevered through the pain he grit his teeth and just kept fucking Going because wilson hating him is a worse fate than any infarcture any perpeptual state of chronic pain, a fate worse than anything

Before stacy before cuddy before everything it was new orleans and wilson in that cell. House has been living for wilson. House's entire life past the infarcture and the pain and the pain and the pain has been for wilson. He has been living in unimaginable pain for 20 years because its been an unspoken agreement that i need you i want you you need me you want me. I need you here you cant go anywhere You cant leave me

20 years of being in a perpeptual unending state of chronic pain. Years of living under this unspoken agreement, being bound to this contract that keeps you screaming keeps you hurting keeps you gutted and emptied out but you never minded it, you never left. you let it take you because you love him. Because you love him he loves you and he lets you love him and thats enough

So can you imagine what a slap in the face it is to have him tell you outright that he wont live for you.

That his life, his death: it'll be about him. All this whilst your entire life has belonged to him. Your life your death everything you've ever done its been about him for him. For him. And you feel furious and cheated to tears because its then that you realise he never even asked. You gave it to him handed your bleeding beating heart warm and fresh to him on a silver fucking platter and he never even asked for it. But you're asking him now. You're actually asking him you're begging him, you are begging him you're telling him that you love him, and he's saying no? He's saying no?

Can you even begin to imagine-- just a fraction of that betrayal? That humiliation? I've fucking grit my teeth weathered 20 years of pain i stayed alive because i knew that you wanted me to-- because i knew that you loved me and you wanted me to stay, and that was fine, because i loved you too. And i never even made you say it. I never made you say the words because i thought it was something we both understood intrensically, down to the bone-- and still im telling you now that i need you that i love you and now the deal's just off?

I weathered through 20 years of pain because surely you would have done the same for me-- and you're telling me now that your life is going to be lived on your own terms? when my entire life has been lived for you? When ive been in hell for 20 years just so i could keep loving you? You; you looked at me in the eyes, led me on had the gall to keep me alive-- just to sit here now and tell me that the agreement ive lived my whole life around was a one-man deal? That you cant be bothered to stick your heels in the dirt a little, grit your teeth and go through a quarter fraction of the hell ive gone through so that you stay here! can be here Be Here and keep continuing to love me when ive been doing that wordlessly thanklessly for 20 years? How could you make me ask? How could you tell me no?

How could you keep me alive and breathing if you knew that this was even remotely in the realm of possibility? You kept me in the dark-- knew this whole time that leaving this friendship could actually be an option for you-- and you kept me alive?

[ummick]

seriously you have all those blogs, get a fucking life. If you won't even read hate why do even reply with stupid replies. No sense in owning a Hamilton blog and a Schumacher one... ask Lulù about hate...

what life would you like me to have, anon? i have a husband whom i love very much and who loves me, who has been making me happy since i was 14 years old, 22 years ago. i have a pet hamster named cinnamon who puts his tiny paws on my finger and lets me pet his back so gently while i coo at him. i have my weekly trips to the grocery store, where i know the employees by name and ask after their families and compliment strangers to make them smile. i have a 40 hour playlist of songs i know by heart to sing to, which makes me feel physically lighter. i have chronic fatigue syndrome that leaves me bedridden several days out of each month. i have three kinds of arthritis in my 30s, and fibromyalgia, and bursitis in my hips, and sclerosis and hyperlordosis in my lumbar spine, and an anterior pelvic tilt that causes nerve pain that makes me unable to stand for more than 10 minutes. i have pcos and endometriosis and pelvic floor dysfunction that leave me in agony without warning. i have primary lymphedema, a congenital condition that's left my legs visibly deformed and prone to cramping. i have borderline personality disorder and c-ptsd, and anxiety and depression, and ocd, adhd, and am likely autistic. i have a tic disorder that causes large spasmodic movements in my fingers, toes, and limbs that make it difficult to function. i have a lot more than that. i take nearly 20 pills a day and it's still not enough. i have more specialists than i care to count. i have no family save my father because of a sexually abusive mother and a family that abandoned me rather than deal with it. i have no friends in person by choice because, after being failed by everyone who was ever supposed to care for me in my formative years, it's too emotionally exhausting to build that level of trust. but i have my blogs, which i'm told inspire people in their desire to write fic and make art. i have my blogs, which bring me peace by giving me an opportunity to catalog and sort things, and constantly give me something to do, given i can so rarely leave my house or even stand from my couch without being dizzy. you didn't deserve this explanation, by the way. i'm giving you the gift of insight in the hopes that you'll stop being such a selfish, feeble-minded, spiteful person and may, next time, consider that the person on the other end of your childish little rant is your equal and has experiences of their own that aren't your business. next time, just use the block button like an adult.

[holycatboy]

hi! i'm Angel, and I'm a trans man transfag, 23 and pre-op and i on T for like 2 months. i'm queer and gay, so while everyone is welcome i'd like to ask women and femmes to not interact with me in a romantic/flirtatious n sexual way ꒰^. .^꒱₊˚⊹

i'm auDHD and mentally ill with chronic pain (not the worst, just annoying), so i might be awkward and stuff ˶˃ᆺ˂˶

i'm a sub and a bottom, but while I'm a bottom 100% of the time, i switch between sub to brat to power bottom, and even dom on rare occasions ˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

i'm starting this blog to finally get out of anonymous shadow and interact with my fellow trans gays here, hopefully, and to throw all of my horny insanity somewhere other than my notes app ˶˃ᆺ˂˶

this is a strictly 18+ blog I'll post/reblog a lot of stuff that aren’t safe for minors, so if i see any or an ageless blog they will be blocked

asks and DMs are open and encouraged!!!!!!

bbbbut I'm not always available, I'm neurodivergent, anxious and introverted, so please don't expect me to reply immediately (i won't be replying to rude and hateful shit)

this is a nsft sideblog, so likes, comments, or follows will come from my main blog, you can message me to ask if i follow u!! ʚ₍^.  ̫.^₎₊˚✧

DNI

typical DNI, get the fuck away I'm blocking on sight if you're: transphobic, TERF, chaser, homophobic, racist, pedo, zionists, rus supporters, minor, ageless blogs

if you have “men DNI” or variations of it on your blog

detrans, misgendering, ageplay, raceplay, ED n SH blogs please get away, I'm simply uncomfortable with interactions

exclusively lesbian, women centric blogs don't reblog my posts, I'm a gay guy thing, i really don't feel comfortable having my posts presented as anything having to do with lesbians (other than explicit lesbian support posts if they show up)

☁︎｡⋆˚₊‧꒰ა kinks ໒꒱ ‧₊˚જ⁀➴

☆ sub/dom

☆ petplay (kitty)

☆ breeding

☆ free use

☆ cockwarming

☆ cnc

☆ kidnapping

☆ bondage

☆ impact play

☆ blood, bruises all the nice stuff

☆ biting/marking

☆ soft choking

☆ intox and drugging

☆ corruption (religious specifically)

☆ monsters

☆ bimbofication

☆ objectification

☆ possessiveness/jealousy

☆ yandere stuff

☆ brat taming

☆ size difference

☆ worship/hierophilia

☆ praise

☆ degradation (but not extremely hard)

☆ overstimulation

☆ probably a million other things that I can’t remember rn

༺♱ hard limits ♱༻

☆ vomit

☆ scat

☆ ageplay

☆ raceplay

☆ weight gain/loss + feederism

☆ misgendering

˚*ੈ✩‧₊other limits˚✦⋆˖⁺‧₊˚

☆ my pronouns are he/him exclusively

☆ don't ask for pictures, especially if we're not mutuals, i'm mostly fine with receiving pictures tho

☆ more comfortable with ppl (preferably mutuals) 20-30 for sexting, if at all

☆ DMs are open, but don't just send "hi" or a pic without anything else

☆ I'm horny a lot, but not all the time, so don't expect anything

☆ comfortable with only princess as a feminine pet name

☆ okay with being called pretty, angel, prince, kitty, kitten, darling, good boy, other sweet names like that

☆ if you talk to me about my body, those are the only words I'm fine with (other than sweet pet names or pet play names, but no childish words): chest, nipples, pussy, boypussy, cunt, clit, tdick

if you show me, that you didn't read it before engaging with me, i will either ignore u or block u

[leafpool-loves-ashfur]

Speedrunning 100 moons in ClanGen

just a lil info dump of all the SpeedrunClan stuff in the video posted above.

SpeedrunClan - Moon 100

Leader: Pondstar (8/9) Deputy: Spottedember Medicine Cats: Honeyfade, Aphidtooth Warriors: Sapdapple, Mapleback, Mottledrump, Tornhawk, Conefern, Nightingalegaze, Squirrelnut, Hopestem, Skipnight, Buzzardhusk Elders: Primfoot, Burger

information on the cats copy-pasted below:

First off, our leader, Pondstar. Yep! She’s still alive, after everything, and she only lost ONE LIFE to a dog attack! She’s now 142 moons old, the oldest in the clan! Her traits are playful and learner of lore, but generally I think she’s become a rather bitter and masochistic cat, with a very snobby attitude towards the other clans, considering she has ordered the deaths of AntClan kits before and has been seen taunting the other clans. Her mate was Lavenderripple, the medicine cat, and they had 8 kits over the course of 3 litters: Duckkit, Oakclash, Wildsilk, Honeyfade, Stumpmoss, Timberminnow, Squirrelnut, and Bluestripe. She mentored 4 cats, her own kid Stumpmoss, Sunnysight, Carpclaw, and Nightinggalegaze. She appointed her mate’s ex’s affair partner, Rootshade, as deputy, which was either a power play or she didn’t care about the fact Prim and Root cheated on their partners.

Next is our deputy, Spottedember! Spottedember was born to Faith the loner alongside Frondspirit and Hatchfreckle. But their young 16 moon old mother was, presumably, murdered by Primfoot and Rootshade so that the couple could raise Spottedember and her siblings as their own. Her other adoptive siblings are Aphidtooth, Crocusfur, Rainbowkit, Swiftpaw, and also Timberminnow. Timberminnow considers Primfoot her mother, despite her having cheated on her father, Lavenderripple, so Timber classifies as Spottedember’s adoptive sister. Spottedember was born a tom, but came out as a she-cat during her apprenticeship. She was mentored by Carpclaw, and mentored Skipnight. Her current traits are childish, lore keeper, and good climber, and she was influenced by Carpclaw to defend her beliefs, socialize less, remember history, and she was honored for her determination. She graduated late at 14 moons at Moon 76, and is currently 38 moons old, and mates with Squirrelnut and Hopestem. The scar on her side is from a battle with a Rat King.

Honeyfade is our senior medicine cat! Honeyfade is from Pondstar and Lavenderripple’s first litter, so her littermates are Duckkit, Oakclash, Wildsilk, and Stumpmoss, and her younger siblings are Timberminnow, Squirrelnut, and Bluestripe. She is currently 87 moons old, and graduated late at 16 moons old on Moon 29. Her traits are ambitious and beloved kitsitter. She was mentored by her father, Lavenderripple, and, despite Lavender having a more stoic personality, became more social yet a big rule-follower who doesn’t want to break the status quo. She was honored for her bravery, and she mentored almost every following medicine cat after her: Guppykick, Bumbleslip, Aphidtooth, Almondblossom, Swiftpaw, and Olivefur. She was mates with Snailbeak, but he died and Honeyfade didn’t get into another relationship for a long time, despite many cats crushing on her, like Tornhawk. Eventually, she developed feelings for Sapdapple and became mates with her. Before that, strangely, she had a litter with a parent from another clan, consisting of Almondblossom, Shrubkit, and Chivekit. Seems being a medicine cat must run in the family! She’s very amicable, holding many strong friendships, and the only cat she ever hated is, apparently, Tricklestalk, with a strong passion, for some reason. Perhaps he wasn’t as good a mediator as we think… She also has chronic joint pain, a permanent condition.

Aphidtooth is our second surviving medicine cat. She was born to the loner Shining alongside her littermates Rainbowkit and Crocusfur, and was the first litter to be stolen by Primfoot and Rootshade. She was much closer to Rootshade than Primfoot. Her older adoptive sibling is Timberminnow through Primfoot, and her younger adoptive siblings are Spottedember, Frondspirit, Hatchfreckle, and Swiftpaw. Her traits are confident and eloquent speaker, and she is currently 45 moons, and graduated late at 17 moons on Moon 72. She was mentored by Honeyfade, who influenced her to avoid violence but be better at arguing. She was honored for her initiative. She mentored Beetlepaw, who died. The only cat she ever had a crush on was Sunnysight, and, it seems this isn’t an unpopular opinion, as a lot of cats seem to have crushes on Sunnysight, including Tornhawk and Conefern later.

Sapdapple is our senior warrior at 105 moons old. She has been a kit from the very, very start, and she and Pondstar are the only two founders still alive. Her traits are troublesome, unnatural senses, and good storyteller, and she was mentored by former deputy Ashskip, who influenced her to calm others down and follow the rules more, as well as notice little details. She became a warrior early at 11 moons on Moon 6 and was honored for her flexibility. She was previously mates with Strawspeckle and then Mottledrump before she was captured by Twolegs, and had a litter with Mottledrump consisting of Stagblur, Rindlefreckle, Bumbleslip, and Cedarpaw. She eventually returned to the clan, and would earn two scars, one before her capture and one after: a cheek scar from a fight and half her tail cut off from a falling tree. She mentored Tornhawk. Over all, she seems like she stuck to her troublemaking roots and has always been outgoing, yet oddly level-headed.

Mapleback was formerly a NimbleClan warrior, having abandoned her old clan over a transgression. She joined at 39 moons old and is now 96 moons old. Her traits are righteous and fast runner. She earned a scar on her neck from a snake bite she survived—I think that’s pretty hardcore of her. She mentored Hushfade, and influenced him to be more cold towards others, follow the rules, and be resilient. I imagine she was a pretty strict mentor. She was mates with Wildsilk before his death, but did not appear to have a close attachment to him as she didn’t have a strong reaction to his murder, nor the fact that he had kits with another cat while they were together. She went on to have a litter alone, consisting of Pansypaw, Beetlepaw, and Buzzardhusk. She isn’t overly close to Buzzardhusk, but seems to care for him, though he does appear to be her least favorite kit. Perhaps her more cold nature is why she left NimbleClan.

Mottledrump is from the litter I told you not to get attached to. Well, I lied! He’s a proud warrior, now 93 moons old. He’s the son of Fluff and Springclaw, and his littermates are Gardeniapaw and Auburnkit, and his younger siblings are Snailbeak, Tornhawk, Forestfur, Whiskerrapid, Conefern, Spikepelt, Thriftroach, and Boarsplash. He has the cold trait, which I think he gained from his littermates’ young deaths, but he’s also an incredible runner and a great teacher, which shows as he’s had 4 apprentices, including 2 of his younger siblings: Snailbeak, Conefern, Graymeadow, and Buzzardhusk. He was mentored by his mother, Springclaw, who influenced Mottledrump into making more impulsive decisions. Mottledrump was honored for his caution when he graduated at 13 moons old on Moon 20. He was mates with Strawspeckle and Sapdapple, but after Straw’s death and Sap going missing, he remained single for a long time, until he and Oakclash caught feelings and became mates, though Oakclash would die as well. Also important to note that Oakclash was also mates with Mottledrump’s sister, Tornhawk, at the same time. With Sapdapple, he had 4 kits: Stagblur, Rindlefreckle, Bumbleslip, and Cedarpaw. Curiously, when Sapdapple returned from being lost, she and Mottledrump did not get back together, despite them both being single at the time. It seemed their feelings had mutually faded.

And now it is time for Tornhawk! Oh gosh, Tornhawk, where do we even start? Tornhawk is from Fluff and Springclaw’s second litter, so her older siblings are Mottledrump, Gardeniapaw, and Auburnkit, her littermates are Snailbeak, Forestfur, and Whiskerrapid, and her younger siblings are Conefern, Spikepelt, Thriftroach, and Boarsplash. She is currently 83 moons old. Her traits are nervous, very clever, and good storyteller. Sapdapple was her mentor, who influenced her to step out of her comfort zone and make her own rules, which I think Tornhawk took a little too much to heart. Despite being honored for her forethought, I don’t think Tornhawk actually has much of it. She graduated at the usual 12 moons on Moon 29. The moon before that, Tornhawk suffered from frostbite in the cold, and it hit her ears and nose, destroying their nerves. She can still hear, but her ears are both sensitive and lack feeling, and she can’t smell properly. Through her time spent healing, she bonded with Guppykick the medicine cat apprentice, and they would become mates. Despite this, I can’t help but wonder if Tornhawk’s eyes were truly just for Guppykick, or if Tornhawk actually only got close to Guppykick to be closer to Honeyfade, Guppykick’s mentor. Because it seems like Tornhawk holds a lot more romantic and platonic love for Honeyfade than for Guppykick. I think Tornhawk developed a lot of admiration and respect for Honeyfade while she was treating Tornhawk, which over time would grow into something like an obsession. Her relationship with Guppykick seemed to thin off as she neglected giving attention to her mate, and, Tornhawk proceeded to get pregnant with another tom’s kits—Wildsilk. Not only was Tornhawk mates with Guppykick, but Wildsilk was also mates with Mapleback, yet neither of them seemed to actually hold any feelings for the other, seeing as Tornhawk doesn’t blink when Wildsilk is murdered. I think Guppykick breaks up with Tornhawk around this time, which Tornhawk seems to see as a chance to confess to Honeyfade, while she’s still pregnant. Honeyfade rejects her, and Tornhawk gives birth to 2 kits: Carpclaw and Hushfade (and it’s not lost on me that Honeyfade and Hushfade’s names are so similar… perhaps Tornhawk requested Hushfade’s suffix). In game, Tornhawk would confess and get rejected by Honeyfade again, but I think Tornhawk does this a lot, and Honeyfade always just tries to politely reject her. Meanwhile, because Tornhawk’s love life is a literal shit show, she becomes mates with Oakclash, but then she has another litter, this time being sired by a cat from outside the clans, instead of her mate again

. 3 kits: Fruitstripe, Fadedpaw (again, with the Fade-thing?), and Agavepaw. As of right now, Tornhawk is single and way too fucking ready to mingle. Her obsession with Honeyfade is reaching Ashfur-levels, you guys. Honeyfade also holds a small amount of dislike for Tornhawk, and very little like, and this is saying something because Honeyfade holds a lot of love for nearly all of her other clanmates. Aside from that, Tornhawk mentored Downseeker and Fadedpaw, and she influenced them to be more likely to bicker. I can see why. She also lost her tail to a fox. (I think she might be taking after her mother, Springclaw, who murdered Wildsilk for literally no reason…)

Moving on, Conefern is our next warrior. He is from Fluff and Springclaw’s fourth litter, meaning his older siblings are—here we go again—Gardeniapaw, Auburnkit, Mottledrump, Snailbeak, Tornhawk, Forestfur, Whiskerrapid, and his littermates are Spikepelt and Thriftroach, and Boarsplash is his younger brother. Conefern is a very simple and easy warrior, thank StarClan, after the absurdity that is Tornhawk. Conefern is 67 moons old currently, and his traits are troublesome, very clever, and good mediator. He was mentored by his older brother Mottledrump, who influenced him to be more likely to bend the rules, and use violence over words, yet also helped him become better at solving problems—okay, I guess if your problem is murdering kits and the answer is yes… But, he became a warrior at 12 moons old on Moon 45, and was honored for his wit. Keeping with apparent tradition, he mentored his younger brother, Boarsplash, after his previous mentor Thriftroach died. He was mates with Sunnysight before her death. I wonder if Conefern is perhaps infertile or similar, as Sunnysight had kits with Mistpelt, but there doesn’t seem to be any hard feelings, and Conefern calls the kits his own. It was a litter of 4, consisting of Mottlestripe (named after his big bro, perhaps?), Skipnight, Honeycomb, and Hopestem. He seems to be a good dad, having strong relationships with his kits.

Beloved Nightingalegaze is the child of Perchroar, with deceased littermates Fringewhisker, Graymeadow, Lowstep, and Downseeker, and younger half-sibling Oliverfur, whose father is Hushfade. Nightingalegaze views Hushfade as their own father too. Nightingalegaze is currently 42 moons old and grew up during a time when wars were rampant. They were mentored by Pondstar, so I imagine the pressure was really on for them to be just as violent and bloodlusty and strong as the rest of the clan. Their traits are adventurous, great climber, and valuable insight, and Pondstar influenced them to break rules that don’t suit them and to be resilient. They were honored for their fearlessness and graduated late at 15 moons on Moon 73—I imagine because Pondstar held high expectations for them. If not for the fact that they haven’t had an apprentice yet, I almost wonder if Pondstar would have made them deputy instead of Spottedember considering their traits about good insight. They were born a tom but came out as nonbinary as a warrior, and they became mates with Timberminnow briefly and had a litter of 3 kits with her: Quiverkit, Moonpaw, and Fuzzkit, all of whom died young, and so did Timberminnow. This likely deeply affected Nightingalegaze, but I imagine they are pushing their emotions away to keep up appearances. Their leg was also just mangled in a Twoleg trap on Moon 100, twisting it, so that’s another thing weighing their mind down. Poor Nightninggalegaze—it really isn’t going great for them.

Squirrelnut is from Pondstar and Lavenderripple’s last litter, their littermate being Bluestripe and their older siblings being Duckkit, Oakclash, Wildsilk, Honeyfade, Stumpmoss, and Timberminnow. She is currently 34 moons old and in a sapphic poly-relationship with Spottedember and Hopestem. Her traits are wise, valuable insight, and good teacher, and she was mentored by Lowstep. She graduated at 13 moons old on Moon 79 and was honored for her understanding. I imagine Squirrelnut is kind of a little silly cat, who likes to crack jokes and poke fun of others lightly, which makes others think she isn’t all that serious or smart, but she really is very wise and knowledgeable. I think Spottedember has grown a little more jaded over time, and I think Squirrelnut is there to try and mellow her out and get her to relax. Squirrelnut I think was also the one to fall for Hopestem and suggest bringing her into the relationship after seeing Spottedember getting flustered by Hopestem’s kindness.

Hopestem is the daughter of Sunnysight and Conefern, with Mistpelt being her biological surrogative father. She resembles Mistpelt a lot though, so I think she tried to have a stronger relationship with Mistpelt before his death. Her siblings are Mottlestripe, Skipnight, and Honeycone. She’s currently 29 moons old, and her traits are charismatic, den builder, and a great mediator. She was mentored by Hushfade, who made her resilient and better at caring for the camp. She graduated at 12 moons on Moon 83 and was honored for her charisma. I think she’s a very kind and genuine soul, caring for even the tiniest things, a stark contrast to the rest of her clan. She also had a childhood crush on Bluestripe, and became mates with him. But, Bluestripe died when their relationship was still young, and Hopestem was devastated. She sought solace in Bluestripe’s sister, Squirrelnut, as they both mourned his death. I think they grew close during this, and Squirrelnut started to fall in love with her shy smiles and bubbly laughter, and how diligently she would care for the camp as though it was a living thing too. I like to think Hopestem had a little crush on Spottedember first, finding how the young and new deputy tried to keep things running smoothly and orderly endearing. She was likely shocked to be asked to be mates with them, perhaps a bit hesitant to rush into anything and ruin their friendship too, but she accepted, knowing that she could learn to love the two romantically. I think she’s often nervous to mess something up though, and often steps over her own paws to try and appease them, but Spottedember and Squirrelnut always reassure her she doesn’t have to be perfect for them. She’s also probably equally as worried as Squirrelnut that Spottedember is stressing out and overworking herself. Aside from her adorable love life, she also briefly mentored Swiftpaw before he became a medicine cat, and I think she took his death hard too.

Skipnight is Hopestem’s sister, so just rinse and repeat what I said earlier: her parents are Sunnysight, Conefern, and Mistpelt, and her littermates are Hopestem, Mottlestripe, and Honeycone. She’s 29 moons old and her traits are nervous but formidable fighter, which I think is an interesting combination. She was mentored by Spottedember, and I think since Spottedember was barely older than her by 9 moons, Spottedember actually struggled a bit with maintaining her authority versus a friendship with Skipnight. They don’t appear to have a strong relationship at all, so I wonder if Spottedember perhaps tried too hard to be a serious mentor. Still, Spottedember influenced Skipnight to break away from the status quo, defend her beliefs, and to be social. She was honored for her insight when she graduated at 12 moons on Moon 83. She was mates with Frondspirit, who died only this past moon on 99. She’s not grieving his loss though, so I think Skipnight mostly just feels… lonely. She doesn’t really seem to have any friends… except for Tornhawk.

Buzzardhawk is our youngest warrior and cat in the clan in general at 17 moons old. He is currently injured too, but so far it is not a permanent scar. Buzzardhawk’s mother is Mapleback, and his littermates were Pansypaw and Beetlepaw. Pansypaw died right before they were supposed to become warriors together, so I think this left him quite shocked, especially since Beetlepaw’s death was probably still raw. His traits are troublesome and incredible runner, and his mentor was Mottledrump, who influenced him to be more cold towards others and use violence over words (...again, Mottledrump, again?). He graduated, alone, at 12 moons on Moon 95, and was honored for his dignity. He then immediately had to mentor an apprentice, Moonpaw, and I imagine he was not quite ready for it at all, still grieving his sister. But I think he tried and, unlike with Spottedember and Skipnight, he and Moonpaw became good friends instead of a more traditional mentor-apprentice relationship. But this only meant that when Moonpaw died suddenly, Buzzardhawk was left hollow and lonely. I think he had kind of shut down at this point, growing jaded, sad, and quiet. He grew up after the wars, but during a time when death was rampant, dragging the clan down from a bustling hive of activity, to a meager sixteen cats. I think death is starting to become numb to him. …After him and Skipnight, this is starting to get very depressing…

Thankfully, Primfoot is next! Ah, good ol’ Primfoot! Primsy, Primsy, Primsy… If we thought Tornhawk was a lot of drama, then she’s got nothing on Primfoot. Prim joined the clan at 61 moons old on Moon 22. ClanGen says that something terrible made her leave her old home behind, and we might not know what that is, but whatever it was, I almost wonder if it was more of Prim’s fault than what she would lead others to believe… Primfoot was almost too quick to join the clan and take a clanname, in my opinion. She is currently 139 moons old, and an elder. Her traits are righteous and unnatural senses, which I think fits her a lot. I think Primfoot is the kind of cat to think she’s never in the wrong, and that everything she does is for the greater good in the end. She currently has a permanent condition of a weak leg, and has had it for 47 moons, which meant she was a warrior for a long time despite her weak leg. She mentored many apprentices, including Forestfur, Timberminnow, Fringewhisker, Agavepaw, and Pansypaw.

It says she encouraged Forestfur to heed their anger and be calm, so I think Primfoot really prided herself and others on being calm, collected, and calculated, and to be proper and mannerly. Which is almost ironic, considering all of the murdering and kidnapping and taunting she does. Let’s start off from when she joined the clan—she pretty quickly became mates with Lavenderripple, I imagine because she was perhaps purposefully getting close to him since he was a medicine cat and therefore in a position of power, and he was easily smitten with her attention, despite already having a mate. Whatever the case, Pondstar had no issue with Lavender dating Primfoot, though Pond and Prim were never in a relationship with each other. Pondstar and Lavenderripple at the time had Timberminnow, and Primfoot was quick to become a parental figure for Timberminnow, which was only more firmly solidified as Timber was given to Prim as an apprentice. Now, a lot of Primfoot’s kits seem to be rather depressed or stressed out in some way, but she also has very strong relationships in game with them, so I get the impression that Primfoot was very much an over-controlling parent but one who gave a lot of overbearing love. Like, smothered her kits in it, but only so she could use it as a threat—if they didn’t do what she wanted, she would stop loving them, and of course they wouldn’t want that. Timberminnow I think was the first and perhaps strongest case of this, as Prim wasn’t even her primary parent at first, but quickly it seems like Timber did everything for Primfoot’s approval. I think this definitely affected Timberminnow later in life, as Timber was often detached from her mates and family, and thought about leaving the clan often. I think Timber was either jealous when Primfoot moved on to her other kits, or that Timber realized Primfoot didn’t really love her in a genuine way, and it depressed her. What a great mom you are, Primfoot. And she’s not a great mate either, as she cheated on Lavenderripple for Rootshade.

I think Primfoot might have genuinely fallen for Rootshade a bit. Rootshade was a very daring and aggressive cat, and just as ambitious as Primfoot. I think Rootshade was persuaded by Primfoot’s businesslike attitude and charming facade, and both of them agreed they wanted to rise to power together and “build a better, stronger clan.” So, Prim cheated on Lavender, and Root cheated on Oakclash. When they got found out, I think Oakclash broke up with Rootshade, but Primfoot made sure she was the one breaking up with Lavenderripple, which probably pissed him off. Either way, Prim and Root were now officially together, and quickly made themselves a power couple, almost flaunting off how in love they were. And I think Primfoot is the one who likes to use kits to gain power. When she raises her kits, she raises them to love and respect and need her and, most importantly, follow her. It gives her power and influence in the clan. But of course she and Rootshade can’t biologically have kits together, and I think neither of them want to be pregnant either, so the next best thing, of course, logically, is to murder some parents and steal their kits! So Prim and Root will go on to murder 3 different loner mothers and take their kittens, resulting in 3 litters raised by the both of them, including: Rainbowkit, Aphidtooth, Crocusfur, Frondspirit, Hatchfreckle, Spottedember, and Swiftpaw. Just like with Timberminnow, I think Primfoot smothered them with love only to take it away when they misbehaved, and she taught them to be very, heh, prim and proper. I think Rootshade might have been a more genuine parent, as I get the vibe that Rootshade almost has the endless energy of a kit—I think Rootshade enjoyed playing with them as kits but would grow less close to them as they grew up as she doesn’t know how to handle their “emotions” like Primfoot does. Now, after Ashskip’s death, Rootshade became deputy, which was pretty surprising considering you’d think Root and Pondstar would have bad blood… But I almost wonder if Primfoot and Pondstar were almost kind of friends? Because of course Primfoot would try to be close to the leader as well, though I think Pondstar was always just too closed off for Primfoot to get too close. I think Pondstar maybe didn’t care too much about the whole relationship drama, and just happened to choose Rootshade. Whatever the case, Primfoot and Rootshade were ecstatic. They were working their way up the ladder! I truly think Primfoot is the one pulling the strings here too. I think SpeedrunClan became a lot more openly aggressive with Rootshade as deputy and Primfoot being almost like a second deputy, and I think Pondstar let it happen and even encouraged it in some aspects. Killing kits became the norm, and war raised an entire generation of young warriors. I think Primfoot retired because she was content where the clan was. It was the way she wanted it. Her mate in power, the clan striving to be in control and powerful and fearless. On the contrary, I think Pondstar is unhappy with how the clan is now, I think she wishes it was back to the days where it was just her and the founders. But I think Primfoot has also been whispering in her ear a little, especially after the death of Lavenderripple. So when Rootshade died, which probably did devastate Primfoot genuinely, Pondstar made Spottedember deputy because Spottedember was Primfoot’s daughter. And I think Primfoot is really putting the pressure on Spottedember to keep the clan powerful and feared, while Spottedember secretly wishes for the opposite… Wow, mom of the year award there, Primfoot. You really are evil. And I think she is going to be very shocked when she dies and wakes up in the Dark Forest.

Woof… All of that… And then… there’s Burger. God, Burger—we fucking hate you Burger. Why are you even here?! Burger refused to join the clan twice because it was too scary. I think Burger doesn’t want to fight or get hurt, which is why she only joined when she was too old to be considered able to fight in wars. We met Burger pretty early on, and, based on her history description, I think she got abandoned by her Twolegs or lost them, and was left in the forest and didn’t know how to survive. So she approached the clan, but the descriptions sounded scary and hard, and she decided to learn how to hunt and survive on her own. Which she managed! Good for her! And I think the second time the clan saw her and offered her to join, they had gotten even worse, and, even though Burger had been thinking about it, it now sounded too terrifying at all, so she left and lived a content loner life. But I think she started to grow old, and was losing the ability to hunt well for herself… So she finally joined the clan, only to immediately request retirement so she didn’t have to lift a paw. I think she’s still a little scared of the clan, but that she’s realized that when you’re on the inside of the clan, they aren’t quite as murderous towards each other (save for that one murder nobody ever talks about). So now she just chills and reaps the rewards of being an elder. She probably thinks Primfoot is weird though. So I guess maybe we don’t hate you Burger. She finessed the system and we’ve gotta respect that.

[devils-dares]

THIS IS NOT A HATE ANON DEVON I LOVE YOU

Anon get a life challenge. Literally people on the internet with takes like that are irrelevant.

Some of us have lives and things to do outside of working on fanfics WE put out for yall. If you fucking wanting something done asap DO IT YOURSELVES!!! telling someone to kts is literally so fucking childish, just cuz ur not getting what you want immediately.

Writing takes so much time and energy!!! @ anon YOU DONT FUCKING KNOW THIS PERSON

You don't know what the fuck they are doing outside of writing so stay in your fucking lane bro.

Devon, I hope you have a good rest of your day/night depite those absolute lugnut anons you are getting. In the end of the day, they clearly have nothing better to do, and are just garbage people who need to get over themselves. Keep going at your own pace and I hope you feel better.

thank you truly for typing this out. i don't think non-creators realize how much time, effort, and energy it takes to make something. being so blantantly for real under the cut/tw for mental and physical health, hospitals

thank you for supporting me, for being here, for reading my material, reblogging my works and leaving comments. i'll try my damndest to be here for all of you.

this past week has drained me more than anything ever has. i went from going to the college campus nurse to thinking i could die while getting fucking rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. i have been holding it fucking together at home by the seams, the literal seams. coming out of the hospital on wednesday, i was diagnosed with a rare form of complex migraine, added onto an already not widely known form of chronic dizziness, as well as possible endometriosis. i am at my fucking wit's end. i am in chronic pain. i can't fucking focus anymore. i'm crying every chance i get when i'm alone because i am overwhelmed with every single thing possible. i've been playing this game since i was 14 and i'm 19 now, and there's not going to be any improvement, and i have to come to terms with that.

for those who aren't medically dependent on someone, this might not make sense, but i need to get it off of my chest: i feel like a burden because my family is too fucking nice. they've been there every single goddamn step of the way and misstep i have hurts them too. i felt so bad laying alone in that hospital bed that when my parents burst through the doors i sobbed and apologized over and over again because i immediately knew i ruined everyone's days and weeks.

for me to come to my happy place where not really anyone knows that about me, just to be told to k word myself when i'm already fucking on the edge of it anyway is just so fucking draining. i have near nothing left to give. i'm trying my best.

[veliseraptor]

ur chronic pain xy fic Fed Me. im now contentedly imagining that he complains vociferously every time it rains in a very childish and performative kind of way like a cat who hates to get wet to kind of cover up the fact that its bc of very real pain and not a petty preference at all. also blissfully imagining xxc holding xy's hand lovingly against his tiddies to warm it and ease the pain. and it does. bc tiddies are gods painkiller.

asd;laksjdflkjsdf anon I was reading contentedly along and smiling at this ask and then “tiddies are gods painkiller” came along and hit me like a frisbee to the face, so thank you for that.

and yeah!!! I mean, I think it would take a little longer for him to reach that point where he could performatively and exaggeratedly whine about it in a “daozhaaaaaang I’m suffering probably I’m going to die” sort of way, which xiao xingchen both finds hilarious and is like. you know you don’t need to do this, right? that is not necessary? or okay guess it is just checking. but probably he would get there. which is fine! he’s just taking advantage. xiao xingchen is so nice how could he not exploit it for his own gain? totally a pragmatic decision that has nothing to do with the fact that it Feels Good and makes him have Emotional Experience.

(look, xiao xingchen understands a thing or two about putting a good face on. his just looks like pleasant equilibrium and perpetual kindness. :) )

anyway I can see it becoming kind of a thing, one of those mini rituals that people who live together develop over time, and a-qing every time is like “YOU’RE SUCH A WHINER, GODDDDD” but it seems to make daozhang happy in some weird way too so. she’ll allow it.

[schnees-and-schnugs]

head empty baby schneebling ficlet ??? (just so yall know i had no idea what this was going to be about until i started typing so im gonna be surprised by what i write too). if it seems that winter has chronic ADHD brain in this fic its bc i have chronic ADHD brain and that’s just how i roll.

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  Winter tried to ignore the meowing as long as she could. After all, there was not a single feline creature to be found in the manor, so either she’s dreaming or hallucinating. Or maybe her ears are ringing from her father’s latest tantrum. 

  Being held hostage at the dinner table and forced to listen to his incessant barking voice ought to have caused me permanent brain damage. She smirked under her covers. Now if I can close my eyes and go back to sleep-

  “MEEEEROOOWOOW”

  What the fuck is that?

  Winter knew she ought to get up but she really did not want to. Her thighs ached from horse riding lessons earlier in the day. Her head ached from her business studies her father forced down her throat. Her soul ached from the pain of existence. She was beginning to think she was being punished for some transgression- if being unbelievably charming and sexy deserved- actually, I don’t think I’m going to finish that train of thought. 

  Winter could only tolerate her own sense of humor in small doses, but giver her situation- her entire life up to this point- she didn’t think having an unbecoming jocularity was high up on her list of Current Problems and Tragedies. In fact, it’s quite low given that her father makes up the better part of the first half. 

  She rolled onto her side, one ear muffled by her pillow, and the other under the soft thick layer of her cotton blanket. The noise seemed to have disappeared, and Winter was quite okay with that. She wondered briefly of the possibility of a mountain lion finding its way into the Schnee Estate. She wasn’t even sure if wild animals such as that existed in Solitas, much less bright and pristine Atlas. Winter wasn’t even sure if mountain lions meowed. 

  If a beast made it’s way into the manor, what would I even do? No doubt she would try to locate the animal, gather Weiss and Whitley in her arms and stow them somewhere safe. Maybe even use a piece of meat to lure the lion into father’s bedroom, she mused. Winter tried lull herself back to sleep with the thought of her father begging her for mercy as she unleashes her new pet-

  “MREEEEEEEEEEEWOOOOOOOOOOOOOW”

  Her eyes snapped open. Gods-

  A soft muffled voice followed the feline yell. A familiar voice. A voice exactly suited for one little boy she new very well. 

  Winter narrowed her eyes and listening closely. She could tell it was Whitley from the general childish sound of his tone, but due to her very comfortable position in bed, she couldn’t quite her the specifics. Huffing, she sat up and pricked up her ears.

  “... quiet....please kitty... you’re going to wake up....”

  Winter sputtered. Kitty?

  Did Whitley somehow bring a cat into the manor? She didn’t doubt that given the chance he would- he was overly fond of animals in a way that Winter never understood. Not that she hated animals per se, but the idea of the added responsibility of a pet on top of her already ever-growing responsibilities of being heir to the SDC did not sit well with her. Whitley on the other hand, being the third child, and well, and actual child, didn’t really have much to care about beyond his normal tutoring sessions. Which means that, of course he can have a tiny bird feeders outside his window to feed the little birdies and cry at the sight of a roasted chicken because how could they kill and cook and innocent little animal?

  Winter didn’t understand how a child under 10 years of age could be taken by vegan persuasions- even Father was shocked to silence at that outburst at the dinner table.

  The sound of Whitley’s voice faded out as Winter strained her ears. If he did bring a cat into the manor, she needed to fix that immediately. Father would be furious at not only being woken up in the middle of the night but Whitley breaking the strict rule of no animals whatsoever allowed indoors.

  Father is allergic.

  (What animal he’s allergic to is unknown, but Winter suspects he’s just afraid of them).

  Sliding off the bed, Winter winced at the feeling of cold tile on her bare feet. She simultaneously thought of giving Whitley a good scolding for making her roll off of bed at such an ungodly hour and thanking the Gods that Whitley’s room was right next to hers on the other side of the wall. And the farthest away from Father’s room.

  Sliding her feet into a pair of pale blue fluffy slippers, she cautiously stepped out of her room and into the hallway. The moment the clock strikes 12 the hallway lamps usually shut off on their own, leaving at least this portion of the manor pitch black until the sun rises and lights up through the windows. If Father was working late he would manually change the lights to turn off at a later time- only to suite himself, of course. Everyone else who had the misfortune of living in the manor had to finish up and be back in their rooms by midnight or suffer having to find their room in the dark among the endless doors that lined the hallway. Winter had mastered the art of blindly walking down this hall- but not without multiple mishaps and embarrassments at first, unfortunately. 

  Arms outstretched, Winter felt her way from her doorway to Whitley’s room. She kept close to the wall and tiptoed, feeling for the doorknob before pressing her ear against the room door.

  “Are you hungry little kitty?” There was an affirmative purr and Whitley hummed. “I’m going to have to find you some treats...”

  Winter could practically hear the cogs turning in his little adolescent mind. She knew for sure that Whitley was formulating a plan to break into the food storage for the animals in Mom’s garden- would they even have any cat food in there? He surely is going to be disappointed. 

  Winter sighed. She almost wished she had stayed in bed. She turned the knob and nudged open the door, prompting Whitley to softly gasp. 

  “Winnie!” She heard him quickly shift on his bed. Winter stepped fully into the space before gently closing the door behind her. She turned towards him and assessed the scene before her. Whitley, in his white nightgown, sat in the middle of the bed. He was cradling a suspicious lump wrapped up with his blanket while his round face was contorted by a small frown as he stared back at his oldest sister.

  “Father says that we shouldn’t leave out room after midnight”, the lump shifted and Whitley clutched it tighter.

  “Father also says we aren’t allowed to bring animals into the manor...” Winter crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s that on your lap?”

  “Nothing!”

  “Are you sure?” Whatever annoyance Winter felt melted away at the sight of Whitley pouting. She sauntered playfully to the edge of his bed and wiggled and finger in his face. “Are you lying to me? Your older sister Winnie? You’re lying to me?”

  Whitley broke eye contact. “Well...” The lump mewed and a furry white paw extended from out of the cover of the blanket. Winter raised a brow.

  “That looks suspiciously like a cat.” Winter crawled into his bed and uncovered the little creature. The cat loafed on Whitley’s lap, grooming the pristine white fur on around its pink paw beans. It looked to be a few years old. 

  “Isn’t it pretty?” Whitley caressed the cat’s back, having already moved on from the earlier argument. Winter tried to pat its head but the little critter swiftly dodged her palm and scampered to the edge of the bed and curled up, seemingly to sleep. Rude.

  There’s a more present matter at hand anyways.

  “Where did you find it?” Winter turned her attention back to her little brother.

  “Her”

  “What?”

  “It’s a she, Winnie! Look at her butt!” Winter politely declined the suggestion. She had no interest in inspecting the cat’s backside- she didn’t seem to like Winter anyways.

  “Well, where did you find her?” 

  “I didn’t find her! Mr. Hartley gave her to me”

  “The grounds keeper?”  Winter scoffed. “Why would he give you a cat?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why don’t you don’t believe me?” His eyes started to brim with tears and he grabbed Winters right hand with his own two smaller ones. “Father said we’re not allowed to bring animals in here but I didn’t know what to do! Mr. Hartley said he’s leaving but he can’t take her with him. I said I would keep her. But Father is going to yell at me if he finds out- I’m scared...” 

  Winter’s chest ached at the desperation in Whitley’s voice. This isn’t normal is it? For a child to be so terrified of their parent like this. When she was his age, she felt the same way- so scared and vulnerable. It was the end of the world to get negative attention from Father, and most of the time it seemed to be the only type of attention he gave. It almost seemed par for the course all those years ago. She didn’t know any better- it was just the norm.

  Looking at Whitley, petrified like she was- she could see the abuse from the outside. Almost as if she’s watching her own experiences and she’s chained to a front row seat. Except she didn’t have an older sibling to hold her hand and to share the pain with. To protect her. To defend her. Isn’t that what she always wanted in the worst days of the past? Couldn’t she be that now?

  Whitley couldn’t keep the cat. There was no amount of convincing that could make Father give in- it’s always been about his own ego, more than anything. But that doesn’t mean that Father has to know this cat was ever here in the first place. Atlas has plenty of animal shelters, and having a pet cat was in vogue now. She would convince Whitley to let Klein take the cat to the nearest one in the morning. Father would never know if they were discrete. 

  “Winnie...” Whitley’s bright blue eyes searched her face.

  Winter grabbed him under his arms, and with little struggle, sat him between her stretched out legs. She hugged him around the waist from behind and softly told him her plan. 

  “... do you want to do this with me?”

  Whitley sniffed. “I can’t keep her?”

  “Father won’t allow you to. We can make sure the kitty is safe and taken care of though... Klein will do this for us, I know it. You won’t get yelled at and you can tell her goodbye in the morning. Father will be none the wiser.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that he’ll never know.”

  Whitley was quiet for a few seconds before Winter felt him nod softly beneath her chin. “Can I sleep with her tonight?”

  Winter blinked. She forgot it was currently hours past Whitley’s bedtime. He must be half asleep.

  “Yes. Just make sure to keep her in your room, okay? I’ll leave a message for Klein to see in the morning. Don’t...” She paused. She noticed Whitley breath start to even out as he fell asleep against her.

  I suppose I’m going to be sleeping her tonight also. She needed to make sure that this all goes well. However, Winter couldn’t ignore the uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Was she just getting Whitley used to this? Hiding secrets out of fear? Was she allowing Father to have his way in Whitley’s eyes? Getting Whitley accustomed to living under Father’s thumb? She was just trying to protect him. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of selfishness, that she was denying Whitley happiness for the sake of peace with their Father.

  Mom always told her to choose her battles carefully. 

  She couldn’t help but feel that if she chose all the wrong ones, she’ll end up hurting Whitley beyond repair.

[project-ohagi]

Dabi x Reader

Buy me a coffee!! <3

Greyromantic: Can experience romantic attraction, but weakly or infrequently; feeling alienated from romance; only feeling attraction in specific circumstances.

Asexual: Having little/no sexual attraction or interest in sexual activities.

Questioning: Process of exploration regarding gender, sexual orientation, sexual identity.

----

The phenomenon of love is a complex, chemical concoction that has long been weaved into the fabric of our society. It is presented as a requirement, with those who find the concept either too challenging to thoroughly comprehend, or lacking in appeal, branded as anomalies. In its pursuit of normality, it quickly alienated those whose hearts just couldn't conform. In a different society, one not quite so dominated by this 'normality' of romantic and sexual interests...you might be forgiven for your limited knowledge. But this one...it seems to blanch at the very idea that happiness can be attained in the absence of romantic attraction.

As such, those identifying along the Aromantic or Asexual spectrums are often overlooked - even shunned. But, the greatest truth of it all is a lot simpler than you may expect: an emotion as profound as joy cannot be induced solely by succumbing to carnal desires, or tasting the lips of another. No...it is through self-acceptance, and the acceptance from those for whom your heart beats - parents, siblings, friends...and perhaps in this manner, the meaning is amplified.

But...what happens when you are forced into complacency, into setting aside your own interests, to 'further evolution', or to 'finally be normal'?

You were still trying to figure this out.

Who were you...really? Why couldn't you summon an emotion as free and universal as love?...Romantic love? Why did it seem so incomprehensible, so...intangible? These were the thoughts you battled with, every waking moment. They burrowed deep into your mind, so that you could never pull them out. They were elusive, yet...constant, nagging.

Why am I so different? Everyone else has crushes...even Toga likes that one UA boy! Ah, yeah...she asked me if I have someone I love. I just said "No". Saying: "I don't even know what 'love' is" seems a bit...she'd definitely call me weird. Then the others would probably laugh at me...

You felt...incomplete, like a jigsaw puzzle with only half the pieces. You felt the isolation, suffocating you. It hadn't been a conscious decision. You didn't awaken one morning and think 'You know what? This whole 'love' thing? It just isn't for me! ' You craved a connection, a bond of some kind - holding hands...a hug at most. Anything more was frightening to imagine. What if someone...pressured you? Or stole a kiss, as an offhanded action? You couldn't bear it...not even the mere thought. It was likely the main contributor to your chronic anxiety and paranoia. Your treatment at the hands of society, the ridicule and the fear of phrases such as "It's just a phase!" or, "You need to find the right person!"...they fuelled the flickering spark of villainy in your eyes.

After all, outcasts and monsters are interchangeable to most common folk.

But you didn't want those labels. You were a lost lamb, wandering aimlessly - what you really needed was guidance...someone who would listen and advise, someone who would accept you and every burden you carried, without question or quandary. But you said nothing...so you got nothing in return. Dabi was the closest to a...a source of strength? Motivation?...Potential love interest? But...how would you ever truly know? How could you discern the romantic from the platonic? It seemed impossible - simply a waste of time. Still, you never fully resigned to this fate of...loneliness.

You wanted to cherish, and to be cherished.

You wanted to love, and to be loved.

Perhaps it was the unyielding voice of fear, of desperation and pain, but...you just didn't know! You didn't know...and, it was difficult. You studied Dabi's face, and while nothing immediately heated your cheeks, he wasn't...unattractive. Aha! Maybe that was love? Alas, you discovered it to be more aesthetic attraction. It was a little disappointing, but perseverance should've been the key, right...?

Why? Why do I feel so little? Dabi is there for me, right? So surely if anyone, I should love him!...Do I love him? How can I tell? Is there some sort of test? How would a test even be administered? What kind of questions would I have to answer? I don't think I could answer them, even with study. If I'm struggling so much now...

And anyway...Dabi was a dominant male, whose sexuality was unclear. Even if you managed to settle on a definition of 'love', and figure out what role it played in your life...there was no guarantee that Dabi would want you. The jury was still out, on your gender - 'questioning' was your placeholder for the moment. But, you usually dressed masculine...would he be okay with someone so indecisive? Someone who might be neither male nor female? And, what if...what if he wasn't the one?

Say I can find love, and I start to understand it...who's to say that the person I love will be Dabi? It could be anyone! Maybe they were right, and I just haven't met the right person...but, I kind of want it to be Dabi? Is that...bad? Oh god, it sounds so selfish! He'll just be tied down, and if we find out that I don't actually love him...what would he do? At the very least, he'd be angry...

Dabi...the more you recalled his honey-laced voice, all the flirting you failed to notice until it was pointed out (clearly, he was doing that in jest), and those blue eyes (steely from years on the run, that probably depleted the pools of guilt and regret often accompanying mass killings, thievery and other criminal acts), the more confusion festered. You just didn't understand! Was it love? Or was it conversion? Were you trying to become 'normal'? Well, as normal as a villain could be...? Or did Dabi really mean something...something greater than you believed? Something...beyond what you currently knew?

This journey of self-discovery had approached a torturous junction.

Why were relationships so sought after, so expected? Even you desired one. How else could you ever hope to form a deep bond, or receive that fabled 'feeling of ecstasy' from holding hands or hugging? If there was no romance, mainstream media would lead you to the conclusion that there isn't a 'proper' or 'deep enough' connection - there can't be. You wanted to experience these things with Dabi. No-one else. You couldn't explain why. He was...an unusual character, mysterious and with perhaps a similar level of complexity as the daunting questions you were asking yourself. But mentioning your plight to him simply wasn't an option. Villains were responsible for themselves; the League was nothing more than a safety net.

Besides, Dabi was heartless.

...Or so he liked to be portrayed.

Urghhh...why is this so complicated? How am I supposed to know if I love him? The signs are...increased heart rate and blood to the face, right...? That seems unhealthy...is that actually supposed to be a good thing??

"Hey, you stopped spacing out yet, (V/n)?"

Shit! No, no, no! I haven't finished spacing out!

Sheepishly, you turned in the direction of the voice. Why did Dabi always seem to materialise out of thin air, whenever you thought about him? Did you magic him here, by accident? Subconsciously? However you managed that...you hated it. Your existential crisis really didn't need a spectator. Break out the popcorn, why don't you?

Can't I have a break down in peace? Wait...am I even in my room?...Did I seriously question my entire existence right here in the bar? It's a good thing there's no-one else here...I don't need more people telling me that I'm crazy...

You sighed. "...Yeah."

His brows furrowed - this was unfamiliar territory. Helping people had never been his speciality, especially given his own trauma . But for you...it was certainly worth a shot. "What's up? You on your man-period or something?"

Off to a spectacularly dreadful start. "I - I don't know if I'm a man, though...how could I-"

"Relax, it was a joke. Your pronouns are they/them, right? I'm not gonna call you a man just for the sake of argument. Nah...Hey, scoot over." A for effort.

"You could sit literally anywhere else."

He smirked. "You gonna stop me, sweet-cheeks?"

Sweet...?

"Thought not. Anyway, what's going on? You've been all doom-and-gloom for the past...two hours." He motioned over to the clock.

Had you honestly spent so long in contemplation? Gods, you could've unlocked the secrets of the universe, but no. "I've...kinda been asking myself that."

"Oh?" It was obviously a prompt, but talk of your romantic inclination (or lack thereof) would likely be regarded in the realm of 'stupid' and 'childish', so...could really you trust him?

I've always been too nervous to take risks...Guess now's as good a time as any to change that.

You swallowed down the uncertainties, the anxiety and everything in-between. They didn't help - they only hindered. And...you did need to release this burden, that weighed you down so heavily.

"Um...it's - it's...confusing. Really...confusing. I guess, I simple terms: I don't know what 'love' is. I know it probably sounds really dumb to you, and I feel stupid for even saying it, but...I've never...never had a crush, never been in love. I don't...I don't feel anything romantic towards, well...anyone!"

"Not even a bit?" He asked, blank-faced.

"I - I don't know. I really want to, though. I'm just...I'm scared. There's always this underlying fear of...what if - what if someone forces me? Y'know? What if...I date someone, and they can't accept that I'm different...that I might never feel anything for them? I don't want to be lonely forever, Dabi! I want someone, I really do! I say I've never been in love, but...the truth is, I just don't know! I know that I don't need to kiss someone. That's what I...what I don't want, but...I - I still want to hold hands with someone! I'd still like a hug, every once in a while...I don't know what I'm doing, or really...who I am."

For a few moments, he was silent beside you, just drinking in the flood of information. He refrained from reaching out, or gazing too intently. It took time to settle on an appropriate response. "You're looking at it as an issue, though - something you've gotta resolve, before you can move on. I'm not the best with advice, trust me...but I can tell you that it's a journey. It'll continue and evolve, as long as it needs to. You'll...probably know when you're ready, or...something. All that sappy crap. You don't have to force yourself to understand it all now."

I'll know...?

"When I'm...ready?" You repeated, eyes tracing the lines on your palm.

"Yeah...probably."

Just before you lost all coherency, a single thought fluttered to the forefront of your mind: My heart...just...skipped a beat?!

[Word Count: 1775]

[shra-vasti]

YOON JEONGHAN

Series : To all the boys

Pairing : Yoon Jeonghan x reader

Type : non idol au, ex-lovers au

Genre : angst, drama, fluff, romance

Warnings : none

Word count : 600+

Synopsis : You decided to write some letters to every boy who was a part of your past as your last message after getting diagnosed with chronical disease.

MAIN MASTERLIST

[Received, 15.10.2020] | one | two | three | four | previous

"Okay, something is wrong, why would you suddenly write all these things to me?"

He furrowed his eyebrows thinking of various reason for you to suddenly send this letters to him, you didn't like confrontations and it was as if you were trying to make peace with yourself, but why were you doing that now?

Was the pain too much to handle? Were you finally going to let him go for real? Or you found someone else?

He got up and threw his coffee away, having lost his will to even do anything after reading how much damage he had done to you. He was childish and narcissistic and while trying to protect his feelings, he didn't realize he was hurting you.

He hated himself for treating you the way he did and he wanted to make up for it but the damage was already done and he knew you wanted to do nothing with him.

"You don't know how much I want to see you right now."

But he couldn't, he knew he had to let you go but he didn't want to, he loved you, he knew it but he took you for granted.

He couldn't imagine you in anyone's life other than his, he wanted you to be his and his only and you were but he let other's judgement take a toll on his mindset.

He loved you but he cared more about what others thought of his significant other because he had this habit of boasting himself and his belongings in front of everyone.

He had money, looks, intelligence, friends, everything one could ever ask for and he had you too but he played you because he thought you lacked many aspects.

Thinking about it made him hate himself, you were perfect in your own way and he had no right to point out your flaws when he knew you were already aware of those and were trying your best to accept them but he made you hate yourself more thinking that he was helping you out.

It hurt him, the way to hated him but he knew he deserved it. How he could turn back the time and love you the right way but he couldn't.

He sighed before making his way back towards his bed to lay down and he couldn't stop tears flowing from his eyes knowing he has lost you for real. It was like he was holding on a single string of hope but it had snapped and he was left all lone.

He hated being alone.

"I hope you'll forgive me for the pain I've caused you."

His phone rang again making him clumsily wipe his tears and pick up the call.

"Hello?"

"Your call got cut off abruptly, is everything alright?"

"Am I a terrible person Jihyun?"

His voice cracked unable to hold it in as he spoke.

"No you aren't who told you that?"

"I've hurt so many people in my life, will they ever forgive me for what I did?"

"Why are you saying that? You never hurt anyone."

"I did Jihyun and it's all your fault, you are so naive that you never really told me what I was doing was wrong, you should never let people judge you but because of you, I destroyed something I would've treasured so dearly."

The line went silent for a while as she just stood in place listening him crying his heart out.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

"Y/N, Jihyun I loved her so much but you had to come back to me after breaking up with me and fuck everything up, I was so blinded by having you back that I didn't realize what I was missing on. You made fun of her looks and character and I got so angry I wanted to prove you wrong which led to everything that happened till now."

"She didn't deserve you and your time Jeonghan, you deserve so much better."

"And you think you're better than her? You're so eccentric, I loved you but that didn't mean you would belittle someone innocent, she became a victim of our toxic love, I just want to say don't contact me after this, I know you love me way too much and I know you would go to the moon and back for me but I don't think I can live happily with you after making y/n go through so much over the years that they still aren't over it."

He heard her plead him and he knew he was being impulsive but he also knew he wasn't going to regret this decision. Both of them loved each other but they were toxic they hurt everyone who didn't deserve it.

"Maybe this is my karma, I'm sorry."

He hung his head low and cried and cried and cried untill there were no tears left. It was over for real and he lost the best thing that had ever happened to him.

[bigskydreaming]

Just a general FYI for newer followers....

My oh-so-controversial stance on noncon, underage and incest fics and anger in such ensuing arguments is NOT based on some quest for abstract ideological purity or an attempt to be The Most Morally Righteous. Its deeply personal for me. 

I’m an abuse and csa survivor, thanks to my bio-mom who physically, emotionally and sexually abused me up until I was ten, at which point it only stopped because I literally fought my dad and stepmom on going to see her anymore for her unsupervised custody visits....which she only had because my dad, despite knowing full well that she was mentally ill and not safe to be around, never fought her on in order to keep HER dad happy, as he was the only one keeping my dad’s business afloat for years. I then grew up deeply closeted because when you’re raised conservative Catholic in a family that prioritizes appearances over childcare and basically pimped me out before I was ten, you tend to assume the worst case scenarios about being outed. 

Which ironically then came true when I went as far away from them as I could for college, to Georgia, where my freshman year of college I ended up gaybashed and raped, which resulted in me dropping out and a downward spiral for the next several years, and made a resurgence in fucking up my life a couple years ago when I ended up with chronic pain and health conditions I’m still trying to afford getting fixed, and that all stem from trauma to my jaw that began with me getting kicked in the head a lot one night sixteen years ago. With very little in person real life support system because my family and I flat out don’t talk or interact anymore and I’m currently physically incapable of getting out and about and holding down a job that doesn’t let me work from my computer.

SO. 

Those are my personal trauma credentials, and they’re why none of this is academic for me, nor will it EVER be. I’m intimately acquainted with pain and distress, which means I’m more than qualified to tell when things cause me pain and distress, and categorically, I’m flat out stating that being unable to go a DAY in ANY fandom without being surrounded by the awareness that people find fantasy versions of my Trauma Greatest Hits not only ‘sexy’ and ‘harmless’ and ‘hot,’ they would much rather defend them than survivors who say flat out, categorically, the casual ACCEPTANCE of these things alone causes us pain and distress......well, shockingly, this causing me pain and distress.

I’m tired, guys.

Its fucking EXHAUSTING spending your entire fucking life being told by everyone you meet that people value and respect abuse and rape survivors and only want them to be safe and happy, when push comes to shove, that’s almost NEVER proven true in my experience.

Its fucking EXHAUSTING spending your entire fucking life seeking out friends and found family of your own to replace the one you never really had, only to time and time again be blindsided when people you otherwise respect and admire trot out the oh so familiar “its just fiction” and “how naive/childish/ignorant are you that you can’t tell the difference between fiction and reality” lines.

Because its NOT just fiction, and this IS my reality: the constant, 24/7, everpresent awareness that the very REAL reactions I have to being constantly bombarded with an atmosphere of casual permissiveness about the very things that have for decades traumatized me.....like this is laughable to people. People literally LAUGH at this, when I spell this out. They tell me its my fault. Its MY problem. The only one doing anything wrong here is ME, for DARING to have a negative emotional reaction to constantly stumbling across proof that for a lot of people, literal narrative descriptions of some of the worst moments of my life are HOT, SEXY, FANTASIES.

And even the people who DON’T find these things hot or titillating prove time and time again they’d much rather defend THESE things than the people who object to these things....because the former are familiar, and comfortable and thus allow for a ‘civil, peaceable’ status quo whereas people making a big fuss about how fucking upsetting a constant casual environment where ANYTHING sexual goes, up to and including romanticizing and eroticizing peoples’ very real sources of trauma....like, we’re the REAL bad guys, we’re the REAL troublemakers. Why can’t we just let people write what they want to write? Why can’t we just let people have fun?

Well gee, I don’t know.

I honestly couldn’t tell you.

Because I’ve been asking my fandoms that exact same question for years.....why can’t you let those of us who are fucking DISTURBED by how EVERPRESENT these things are and how little people even want to question WHY they’re as everpresent as they are.....why don’t we get to have fun? 

Why don’t we get to feel safe? 

When do we get to be defended? 

Why don’t our feelings and upset and emotional distress matter?

And time and time again, the only answers I EVER get are....’stop being so sensitive.’ ‘Its just words, words are harmless.’ ‘Stop making this about you.’ ‘Other people don’t have this same problem so I don’t know what to tell you.’

Except, when have any of those lines EVER been acceptable defenses of the offense or harm caused anywhere?

*Shrugs*

So yeah. That’s my story, if you didn’t already know it. I didn’t start out on this site casually trotting it out TMI style, I only eventually started discussing it openly after years of being pressed to display my trauma credentials if I was gonna insist on participating in discussions about rape and abuse as a cis white man. And being so open about it in the years since I started to be, has NEVER granted me any kind of hall pass or given me enough ‘street cred’ to balance out the sheer VOLUME of hate and toxicity I’ve gotten from people happy to use specific details I’ve volunteered about my traumas to harass and try and get me to shut up and be quiet....even as they then turn around and blithely reblog stuff like that “reblog this if you support male survivors” post that I’ve seen on literally EVERY SINGLE BLOG I’ve ever fucking fought with people about on this subject. INCLUDING the ones who also openly argue in defense of ACTUAL pedophilia and incest on the very same pages of their blog where they argue in defense of the romanticized fictional depictions of these things, because gee, shockingly, THERE’S OVERLAP.

And yeah. Sorry to say, I’m probably always going to become upset and angry at reminders that people who I otherwise would respect and want to be around....would rather side with and parrot the arguments of SELF-ADMITTED PEDOPHILES than survivors of csa and so on.

Go figure.

I would love to not have to be so paranoid and cautious in my fandom interactions. I don’t make 90% of my fandom content be original posts that I start on my own rather than casually interacting with other peoples’ content because I’m self-obsessed and think I make the only content that’s worth shit.....I do it because its the only way I know how to keep SOME semblance of safety for myself and I’ve too often in the past been blindsided by happily interacting with someone who posted something I found interesting and fun....only to two posts later be snorting derisively at people who like me, are just too damn dumb to get that fiction is innately harmless.

Its exhausting feeling disrespected at every turn, even by people who are quite vocal about respecting me and my viewpoints...up until it comes time to laugh at those naive children like me, who are just so irrational we simply can not grasp that we have no basis for being upset about romanticizing our traumas.

So, just FYI....that’s why I get so heated on this specific topic, and that’s why I’m stand-offish about following people back and keeping my interactions surface-level until I’m fairly confident I’m not going to be happily perusing someone’s content only to then get whiplash again when it goes zero to “incest is so hot!” in three posts or less.

If that’s upsetting to people or a dealbreaker? Well there you go. That should be all the info you need to know that my blog’s not for you.

Because I’m tired of being treated like I’m the unreasonable one because I say incest, pedophilia and rape fantasies are dealbreakers for me....not SEX itself, not even kink, not even graphic content, but just those THREE SPECIFIC THINGS.

That doesn’t make me a prude. That doesn’t make me irrational.

That makes me a survivor who wants to be allowed to fucking EXIST in fandom spaces without having to constantly defend my RIGHT to act traumatized around LITERAL. ROMANTICIZED. DESCRIPTIONS. Of my traumas.

*Shrugs*

Sorry not sorry.

[nightcoremoon]

i only like pop music when I can choose to hear it.

if rock's on, I'm on board. even if nickelback or creed is playing and I fucking hate them both.

if metal's on, I'm on board, as long as it's metal and not grindcore or deathblast or djentfuck or whatever the fuck else 4chan is concocting in their parents' basements.

if r&b's on, and I mean real r&b and not just "cishet male literal sex predators are sad", I'm on board.

if jazz is on, I'm on board, and I'm not even the biggest fan of jazz.

if classical music is on, I'm on board- I'm just so goddamn sick of vivaldi's spring, beethoven's symphony number five, bach's toccatta and fugue, pachelbel's canon in D, and liszt's hungarian rhapsody. THEY HAVE OTHER SONGS, GUYS.

if opera is on, I'm on board, just as long as it's not just fucking one of three ave marias by andrea bocelli. there's more opera artists than bocelli and there's mores songs besides ave maria.

I think you can see where this is going.

if rap is on, I'm on board, as long as it's not just fucking Drake Drake Drake Drake Tyga Drake. they're not even good rappers ASIDE from being two steps from pedophiles. give me wu tang, tribe, roots, nwa, public enemy, kid cudi, wiz, biggie, tupac, outkast, kurupt, beasties, jay, bone thugs, busta, eminem, nas, nate, luda, cypress hill, childish gambino, tech 9, snoop, give me real rap with meaning, feeling, flow, cultural impact, bass, clever lyrics, RHYTHM.

if country is on, well, if it's pre-9/11 i'm on board but if it's post-9/11 then fucking kill me. because post-9/11 country music is glorified pop with subliminal fascist ultranationalism and commercializations for alcoholism and cars. except for lil nas x and probably a small handful of others I don't know or care to know because I don't give a fuck about country music.

if punk's on and it's real punk I'm on board but not if it's just nasally white boys crying over an ex girlfriend or ugly british men with bad hair because THATS NOT WHAT PUNK IS. black flag, bad religion, bad brains, jack off jill, ice t, cromags, poison idea, rancid, misfits, against me, nofx, even sum 41, green day, offspring, and four year strong have redeeming qualities. but plain white tees, all american rejects, all time low, mayday parade, ramones, sex pistols, simple plan those are just pop groups who play four chords kinda fast, maybe yell sometimes. and while I do like songs by these bands, they are essentially pop, not punk.

if grunge is on and I mean like alice in chains (not rooster) or soundgarden (not black hole sun) or nirvana (not literally half of nevermind) or stone temple pilots or mudhoney or mother love bone (oh yeah and pearl jam is there too but honestly pearl jam is overrated, mike and eddie were way better in mad season, temple, and all the other configurations) then I'm on board. even if it's A- tier grunge like pumpkins, bush, live, spacehog, screaming trees, melvins, silverchair, veruca salt, l7, meat puppets, blind melon, local h, which isn't AS good but it still quality music made outside of commercialized bullshit which is what grunge was created to ESCAPE FROM after england fucking ruined metal in the 80s with hairspray and leather taking precedence over the actual music itself.

wait look commercialization ruined metal and grunge and punk and r&b and rap and country. I wonder why that is-

The Fucking Pop Music Industrial Complex.

so, look. there's a lot of music I don't know. I couldn't tell you billy eyelash from lil rubber ducky. maybe they're amazing and maybe they're not. I'm not gonna talk shit about modern music or pop music or anything. my problem is I can't go anywhere without hearing katy perry or taylor swift or miley cyrus or any number of dumbass inbred white trash idiots, and they all have like 80 songs each on replay. drake and cardi b are the same way, without the inbred and white parts. but they're all still horrible people made worse by $$$. it's a huge circlejerk of millionaires sonically engineering the airwaves to brainwash the masses into the sweet sweet ad revenue from youtube spotify itunes etc. it's made as a product to recycle. "Your style's like garbage cans meant to be taken out on a weekly basis, ever since your first record you've been in a state of suspended animation." There's no artistic integrity in the same song made over and over again except oh this one's about someone breaking up with you over booze and this one's about someone you broke up with because they cheated. 😑

Now I like some music that was made to sell for a product. Backstreet Boys, Nsync, New Kids on the Block, Britney, etc. I like it now 30 years later. Because I can choose to listen to it on my own terms. But I have no control over the shit they play now that's constantly pumped into my ears. It's all the same goddamn drivel and come a decade we're not gonna remember any of it. You know how much terrible music there was in the 50s? The 60s? The 70s 80s 90s and 00s were so full of the worst garbage anyone could ever churn out. Billboard was stocked to the brim with terrible music that nobody recalls and we only remember a tiny portion of it. The top 500 of 1982 is horrible. Even good bands like The Cars had boring unlistenable shit. There was good stuff too like Led Zeppelin and Jethro Tull and The Who and other bands THAT DIDNT SELL WELL AND WERE PERCEIVED AS FAILURES BY CRITICS IN 1982. It's always been that way. The popular shit is always bad and the good stuff subsists through the popularity to be remembered fondly. Why do you think the 80s are making a huge resurgence right now in meme culture? Because we know that Toto and Men At Work and A-Ha and Depeche Mode and Tears For Fears are actually good no matter how poorly they may have sold back then. But now, post-9/11 with American culture becoming what it is today, it got worse. So much worse. I watched it happen. There's no nostalgia filter here, music just sounds different at its core. The notes themselves affect my ears differently and actually cause pain nowadays. I use the same pair of earbuds and I can listen to stuff from earlier time periods just fine, even if I've never heard it before. But new music now? Either something's different with production and mixing or I just have auditory hallucination issues. Which I don't. I don't even have chronic tinnitus. Something is wrong. And looking at the fossil fuels industry, the software industry, the cinema industry, the automotive industry, the prison industry, politics, social media, and the economy, there's no possible way that everything is just a coincidence.

The things that make money benefit the ones getting that money and hurt everyone else. That includes music.

...

...

...

or maybe pop music just sucks.

[keiiro]

Explaining myself just for myself bc I felt like I needed to... o)--( No one will read this but I have no one to rant to abt this td;lr so.

From S1, I’ve said multiple times that I’m in Voltron mostly for Sheith, that VLD isn’t usually the type of show I like to watch. I simply have a preference for dark and complicated dramas/stories. I don’t like cartoons much, actually ^^;; I’m sorry, but a show really has to grab me with its writing or characters for me to be invested in it even a little without me having a ship there. (I uh, hyperfocus on romance. . v.;; I don’t ignore plot tho I swear.. I mean if it’s objectively well written (side-eyes naruto and 500 other series)) Like Steins;Gate. FMA. Skip Beat. Inception. etc. In my case, my criticisms about the show, i.e. the pacing, were always there since S1. I don’t think I like... betrayed LM or JDS by being hurt and having such a negative outlook on this. I think my comments were fair.

Before this.

I was in the Sherlock fandom, knee-deep in TJLC (The Johnlock Conspiracy, yes, humilating, I know, but the sad thing is the real S4 that was written was so bad that we thought it unthinkable that it would be... like that trashfire). I remember near the end of an episode of S4, before the other eps aired, I really liked this one popular blogger. Pearl something. She was really good at making me feel more relieved in the bigger plan. Even though already with episode 1, I was already incredibly disappointed in the writing of S4 and regretted every time I defended S3. The sister’s storyline. Was so. Bad. There were so many plot holes. I don’t even. Pearl--She sent the message to have faith. And as a result I crashed incredibly hard, 40x worse than Shiro’s retirement. Her account ended up hacked and she went MIA. I was there through Apple Tree Yard, being sent the message that apparently two middle aged het ppl hooking up within 15 minutes of meeting and having 5 mins of bad sex that she made sound like he rocked her world but it was just so goddamn sad--and apparently sexual assault--is more valid than a canonized mlm couple. Though really, even if they did, since S3 would still be an incredible disappointment. (the cases in the wedding ep were so, so dumb) Just because even though I knew there wouldn’t be a fourth episode, I was in so much shock I just. ...I was there for the probably-troll fansite for “the lost episode” with friggin Sherlock scripts hidden in the coding. The horror stories go on.

Before that, I was in the Naruto fandom, as a hardass SasuNaru fan. Everyone getting hetmarried at the end was a real shoot in the fucking face, this coming from someone who also likes NaruHina. I. My faith in authors. I just. Yeah, that kerplunked.

I decided to give the benefit of the doubt to Isayama Hajime (Attack on Titan). I used to defend him, pointing out and believing his Imperialistic comments were mistranslated or blown out of proportion. :) Then he said the Chinese and Koreans lives were bettered because of Japanese takeover. Which I ignored because I love Eruri. I don’t care for the writing of AOT/SNK, never really had. I tried to have faith in him. And then apparently he’s now using Jewish WW2 imagery in the series in a way that’s. ........ Basically, it’s been debated whether this is anti-semitic. Idk. I’m not touching that trashfire outside of Levi remembering Erwin frames anymore. So yeah, faith in yams was DIRT. Oh, and then Erwin died. Which hurt much, much worse than this with Shiro, and would’ve hurt more even had Shiro died.

I believed in Bryan Fuller, a lot. He still supports Hannigram fanzines and literally wears shirts of them making out. He told a beautiful, dark mlm romance and I. It didn’t stop him from calling their relationship a “bromance”. He gave no explanation and I was very. Every time it felt a little no-homo’d, I bit the inside of my cheek.

I was in the Supernatural fandom, and I loved Destiel terribly so and I’m not. even. going to start.

Death Note, Piano no Mori, Sam Esmail re: Mr. Robot, goddamn Yana Toboso, Magi, X-Men, many others.

I mainly stan a pairing in the D.Gray-man fandom, and I can’t. Over many years, the mangaka has said things/put things in in a certain way that I decided to overlook. Stereotypical transphobic “okama” inserts. The novel she approved where it was said a guy’s first kiss didn’t count because it was with a guy. Um. Frankly, I didn’t like the Alma arc...... at all. I found that it was mostly tell and not show w/ Kanda and past!Alma’s romance.... and I’m just like........ he was white in his past life his was completely different... and they were lovers in their past lives but their portrayal in their present lives are only as friends? Um. ok I’m rambling and there’s a lot of stuff too but. My point is, I don’t expect anything of her anymore. I don’t hate her, I just don’t respect her as much anymore. I don’t have faith in her anymore to write the absolute best, and she proves me right in recent chapters quite a bit. I’m still quite mixed-feelings there. (Also, I know a lot of people made fun of kls for being so emotionally dependent on kl, but. I’ve been stanning Yullen since 2006. Over ten years. It is literally my life. It’s the main reason if not the only that I’m still alive. The other is my merch. Once I tomb my merch, sayounara Earth.)

I don’t expect authors to be perfect but. I think it’s reasonable for me to not be able to have faith here. Most of the times I held onto faith, it was crushed. I already had faith in that they’d return everyone to their original lions, because honestly I wanted them at each other’s side while saving the world together, in a way that I found most beautiful. I mean, the only thing that could beat that tbh is Shiro getting his own mecha, which I find unlikely. Oriande arc was done already and the white lion accepted Allura and the comic version was just a Robeast, so I found it very unlikely that he would pilot white. 

I don’t really know if this is all so childish. It’s hard to care about a lot of things when you, well, deal with dark thoughts every day, and I’m such a bad adult that before worrying over worldy issues, I can’t. even help myself. I don’t eat most days. The entire past weeks I’ve felt like passing out. Vomited on monday from nausea. major depressive disorder. been to two psych wards, the first time for a month. chronic headaches, chronic back pain... being 24 without a degree because I still haven’t finished studying the language I even need to get into the school I want mmmmmm I’m pretty worthless, man. Shipping’s my best distraction. Yes, I know it’s not healthy. But it’s either that or me being dead so.

Anyway. I’m just trying to say that I think it’s fair for me to be bitter like this. I personally think I didn’t take it very far, but. I think it’s fair that I/we’re upset.