#not deleting though because im sentimental

[tacobellabeanburrito]

so, a long time ago, i was searching for a kirby fanfic (multiple, really) because i remembered reading one of ao3 a while back and i really loved it, then i look again oen day and like, a 3rd of those kirby fanfics are gone (it was metadede, and back then there were not a lot of fanfics of metadede, i don't know if thats the truth now) but anyway, i wanted to find these fanfics so badly and i looked everywhere, i literally set up a fucking investigation and i don't even know if i can find the tumblr now because i have no idea how i found it in the first place, but i found the tumblr of the person who wrote those fanfics because of my weird fucking investigative "skills" (skills in quotations because it's really just my stubbornness to find old fanfiction) and then i realized that ive kinda been doing this a lot. like, defining character trait. like there's this person who i think deleted a lot of their ace attorney fanart on tumblr and i found a lot of their socials even though they haven't been active on a lot of those socials in years and their tumblr has been thoroughly deleted. it's such a weird thing i do. im sure others do it too, but idk, it just feels nice.

im really sad when creators delete their fandom works, i get why they do it, maybe their embarrassed of it, or got mixed up in drama. but, i just wish people wouldn't because then we can't archive it and it kind of sucks because we only have the memories. is it weird to feel this way? im not sure exactly. maybe it is.

there's a couple of things that i haven't been able to find, but maybe that's mostly because im not in those fandoms anymore and sometimes i just get dragged into a rabbit hole by a flash of nostalgia hitting me. there's a lot in the sanders sides fandom that's been deleted, im not exactly sure why, i think a lot of sanders sides artists were just very backlogged with people liking their work (mind you, this was a long time ago, back when sanders sides was really, really popular. think 2017) and people were always dragging on certain artists to create more ss art (even if they were not in the fandom anymore). again, it comes back to deleting all of that art. not wanting to be associated anymore and having bad memories with the fandom pertaining to obsessive fans.

there were these couple artists from the fandom who i deeply admired and who were very popular. i miss a lot of their art, you know? i at least wish i could see some of it again but i know they deleted it because even with my investigative "skills" i haven't ever been able to find it.

sometimes im thankful for pinterest because artists who delete their art have their art saved there.

[vivisecti]

important confession:

i used to be tumblr user Vivisecti. i deleted my account because in a psychotic episode i said vile and indefensible shit about "recovering" pedophiles- because i genuinely thought at the time that they could be "cured" and that i could cure them.

my mental illness is no exucse for such a sentiment but i hope to explain why for those hours/days that i held that belief.

i have believed for a very long time that i was sent by God to rid the world of pedophiles, planning murders and even mass murders to do so. for a breif time during my grandiose delusion i believed that it was possible to "cure" them through therapy or medication.

it is not. there is no cure. they should be euthanised.

part of my words, which i apologise for and deeply regret, was me thinking that i could "cure" my pedophile father- which was delusional denial- and i projected it onto others in an irresponsible and reckless manner.

i will never and have never defended pedophilia. i want to make that abundantly clear. my issue was that i thought it could be cured. this is an extremely dangerous lie spead by pedophiles that say "Im in recovery/ im cured though" in order to lower your guard.

pedophiles use mental illness as an excuse or explaination for their abuse- but pedophilia is a set of ACTIONS that you CHOSE to do, and not a mental illness (i dont care what the DSM-5 says.)

when i say "mental health isnt an excuse for pedophilia" i am also saying "pedophilia is not a mental health issue, and to say so is to soften the evil of it and try to make it sympathetic."

i am also very sorry for not telling you who i was earlier- i pathetically wanted you all to like me again, and it was an absolute breach of your boundaries to follow and mutual people who previously had me blocked. i dont have the right to ask you to listen to me or read this, and i am disgusted with myself for being so parasocially needy.

i would especially like to apologise to @rottenfleshnbones who was the victim of my vile words. im so fucking sorry for what happened last month. the anons i sent to you were not enough to express that. you dont have to forgive me or even read this but i just hope it comforts you even a little bit to know that i do not hold those beliefs anymore, and never held them in a sane mind to begin with.

i have hurt others and i am so sorry. i wasnt lying when i said that as an adult i want to work with children who are victims of incest. all i have ever wanted (even in my schizophrenic haze) was make there be fewer pedophiles and less child sexual abuse. i went about it in completely the wrong way and was delusional and in denial.

i really really love you guys and want to be friends.

-vivisecti

[blushydrangea]

im here to ask u ur thoughts in the... pj controversy ehhekekfke i wanna say smthn abt but like i feel as if i dont grasp the whole thing yet so i chose to shut up rn

hi love! under the cut so the people who are tired of discussing this topic can avoid it.

it's a long one!

i know everyone here has likely come across the tweets pj made, but as an archiver at heart i feel the need to break everything down. screenshots aren't mine.

on the 18th, pj made a tweet about fellow drag queen and artist chappell roan, questioning the authenticity of her love for drag. most people (me included!) thought she was trolling, which unfortunately didn't happen to be the case. plane appeared to be under the impression that chappell was mean or cold towards drag queens she invited to her shows, something she allegedly heard about in boston and, according to some people on reddit so take this with a grain of salt, was debunked. she followed her tweet with another, ironically saying "i love chappell roan". the first tweet was then deleted.

after several people accused plane jane of trying to gatekeep drag from women & having an unfair opinion deeply rooted in misogyny, pj released a notes app screenshot on the 19th. however, going against the purpose of most notes screenshots, hers wasn't an apology. instead, she chose to call out the hypocrisy of people attacking her because they were calling her a man (it's important to note that pj hasn't directly told us what her ood pronouns are afaik).

she made some more shady tweets after that and argued with stans on social media but i don't feel like including these, so the last update we have was this apology pj made for her fandom.

before i speak my mind on this, i just wanna say that i am willing to discuss this as long as people are polite, any aggressive messages i might receive will be promptly deleted.

to be honest, i didn't like what she said. being a person with a platform and, let's be real, several crazy stan accounts who follow her word like gospel, it was wrong in my opinion to call a growing lesbian artist (one of the very few we have, at that) performative for her love of drag. someone who also engages in the *checks notes* performative art of drag. there isn't much of a "bag" to be secured by pretending you love drag, as it's not that mainstream, and i can't help but wonder if pj would have the same criticism were chappell a gay man instead of a lesbian woman.

misogyny is real and it's present in all of us, we were all raised to see women as less than. pj is white and male-presenting with her makeup off, she isn't incapable of misogyny because she is gay or a drag queen. therefore, it rubbed me in the wrong way to see her voice out the same beliefs i've heard from other gay men before – that women deserve to be questioned whenever they exist in drag spaces. i don't agree with the sentiment that pj meant women shouldn't do drag, as she never said that. though she honestly reminded me of those men who ask me very specific and tricky questions about the tree of gondor or whatever when i tell them i love the lord of the rings. are you a true fan?

her notes app statement was what pissed me off. she was really immature imo, ofc she's only 26 so there's room for growth, but twisting a situation you inserted yourself in to seem like the victim based on... people calling you a cis man? come on. it was a self-centered statement made by someone who seemed to refuse to take any criticism on this subject matter. i was very disappointed she chose the "but you are wrong too!" route instead of apologizing to the people she hurt.

her apology to her fandom was... fine, i guess. it served to show me that she seems to be comfortable living in her bubble.

do i think she's a bad person? no, i don't. but i do think she had a misogynistic take and doubled down on it because she refuses to admit she was wrong. i'm staying away from her for the time being, i'll probably get over it eventually but rn i don't wanna see her face all that much. no judgement whatsoever to people who forgave her and are still posting about her, it's your blog, do what you want <3

[kjngdomheartz]

the ask went away with the draft that i made earlier- and accidentally deleted 😭 im so sorry!! but still posting your matchup nonetheless.

thank you for being my first matchup @lady-of-endless !! these are so fun to do, i’ll definitely have to make much more. i hope you enjoy!! <3

i match you with…..

Caesar Zeppeli !

(gif belongs to rightful owner!)

-Caesar is just as affectionate as you are, sometimes even more. He’s an incredibly affectionate person, and when it comes to you he just can’t contain himself. Despite this he knows when to limit himself and switch up his demeanor immediately, just like you. He enjoys your teasing and makes it like a competition, the two of you ending in (another) victory from Caesar.

-He admires your stubbornly behavior and honestly digs it. He loves himself a woman that will stand her ground, all while keeping your temper balanced.

-Though he wishes you’d open up to him more and let your emotions flow out healthily, resorting in small gifts being left on your bed with heartfelt handwritten letters tied onto them with a red ribbon. He hates to see you overwork yourself, he’s always trying to get you to take a break. Whenever you do give into a break when you want it, he’s just overjoyed. Whether it’s dragging you into a private dinner date, or taking you to play with the puppies at the local pet shop, he’s always trying to find a way to ease your head. He’s afraid of pushing the wrong button so he shows his concerned-driven affection through gifts and small reminders that he’s always there for you as well.

-Be a little extra thankful for your great listening skills however, because *boy* will this guy yap your ear off. He’s extremely interested in your empathy and because of this, it’s hard for him to hide anything from you. Not that he likes to, but the second he’s upset in the slightest you’re onto him. It’s incredibly impressive to him and sometimes he likes to experiment with it by acting sad, not knowing that’s not how it works. He’s just so silly.

-You two both share the urge to defend those you love. This is a major factor for Caesar, especially when it comes to you. He’s the sweetest, but all his playfulness disintegrates the second either of you enter a serious situation. He knows you’ll defend yourself, and he will let you, but he loves to be perceived as your big strong knight in shining armor. He’d make himself a human shield for you, and usually does, resorting in you having to treat his wounds. Sometimes he’ll purposefully get himself the tiniest wound, just so you can aid and baby him. Your touch is his favorite sentiment, medicine, drug, everything. He’s very lucky to have that as your love language.

-Your style is his favorite part. You guys are opposite aesthetics and he lives for it!! Whenever he’s off doing whatever he’s doing, he loves to pick up random clothing and jewelry that he thinks matches your aesthetic. He thinks all the gold and wine red jewelry he gets you suits your appearance just perfectly, with your blonde hair and hazel eyes. Not to mention the tattoo, he thinks it’s the coolest thing ever! He likes to compare it to the Joestar star a lot, earning a chuckle out of the both of you.

-Your music can put him straight to sleep. He doesn’t have the patience to learn the guitar, but it’s his favorite thing when he comes home from a long day and hears the low strums of your guitar in the room further down the hall. He loves to train with you, all while encouraging you to infodump about neuroscience while taking out your pent up anger. Angry rants about the things you love? Angry rants about the things you love.

a/n;; i also thought part 2 Joseph was a great match for you too. your complex build of character made you his favorite subject, and if already hadn’t pulled a Josuke, would probably have drifted much closer to you.

[quietwingsinthesky]

r you aware theres a good route in ddlc. it's apparently tedious but im gonna try it at some point

I am. I’ve 100% the game now, seen all there is to see. I have… mixed feelings on the good ending, similarly to my mixed feelings on the side stories, actually. Which is to say, they’re certainly sweet! The side stories are cute because I like the girls well enough, even if I think the writing is clunky and a bit too… emotionally aware? But cute. And then the good ending has a sweet sentiment behind it: you cared enough to reload and see all the scenes in the game, therefore Sayori doesn’t lose her mind with power because she knows you love everyone.

And like, yeah, that is cute, that is heartwarming. It also doesn’t actually approach the central horror at the heart of the game though: this is a romance visual novel, therefore none of the characters actually have a choice but to be in love with you to the detriment of themselves and their friendships with each other. You are the most destructive force in the DDLC world, but you’re also the only reason the characters have to exist. So, it’s cute that you spending time with all of them leads to a happy ending! But it’s also like. well. they still don’t have a choice, and they’re still trapped, and Monika is still deleted. The damage is done, because you were there at all.

It’s not a bad part of the game, just a little incongruent with the themes? I think, maybe, in this case, the “bad end” where Monika realizes that there’s no escape, no chance for happiness in the Literature Club, because it literally was not designed to allow for them to be happy together, it was designed to appeal to you, the player, and will always tear itself apart no matter who is the president, is the stronger ending. Monika deleting all the CGs is just… I don’t know, it’s powerful, man.

This is all she wanted. She couldn’t have it. So she tried destroying herself so that at least her friends could be happy. But there is no world built for them to be happy. There’s only a world built for the player they have no choice but to love, to break loving, to die loving. Deletion becomes a mercy, in her eyes. The only escape.

I guess I’m just saying I like the bad end lol.

[kanefromalien]

hello! I would like to hear your opinions on the alien novelization if you'd like to share :)

hello of course !!! this is probably gonna be really messy heads up but i’m gknna ramble 🤤

in my own opinion, i think the book is fantastic. partially because i love the way it’s written and the style in which ADF writes.

i also think that the way the events are shown from many perspectives is really interesting, and that’s probably my biggest reason for liking the book. the omnipresent narrator—frequently jumping between A & C decks to showcase the different crew members—offered perspectives that the screenplay doesn’t offer, which is my other point of explanation.

the script for alien is really well written, and as a screenwriter i can say that i enjoyed reading it (only big gripe is that it was incredibly quick to read for the 100-something pages it was, but whatever. enjoyed not having camera direction in it..). but with the screenplay, we the viewers have to read what we the viewers are watching, because why write for a character on the other side of the ship? we can’t hear them or see them? i feel the book solves this issue of wanting to know everything that’s happening on the ship. there’s no overabundance of scenes in one part while another—equally important—scene is taking place somewhere else. this also feeds into the main thing i see people talk about when they compliment this book, which is a better look at the characters.

alien wasn’t written as a character story, and it was never intended to be a character-based story where we need to get attached to members of the crew (lowk failed with on me with that concept…). however with the book, you can’t just ignore the thoughts of seven members and focus on one; you have to write them in or else it loses the ability to become engaging. i mean definitely my favorite part was hearing the opinions of characters who we don’t get to see that often (take a HINT who this is about) because it shows us more than the movie ever had the chance to show us. i particularly liked when they were on the derelict, and kane & dallas go into talking about diamonds and riches because it paints a sentimental relationship between dallas & kane (and the other crew members when they eventually get murked) that the film doesn’t show us whatsoever.

my other positive comment is that the dialogue, though very similar to the screenplay, is not a carbon copy, which kept it INSANELY more engaging. if i were to sit down and read the novel after reading the screenplay and watching the film, i won’t lie, i would’ve been quite bored. but because ADF writes in handfuls of new dialogue (and adds onto those relationships we spoke about previously), it’s so much better as a reader because it’s something new to follow along with.

okok lassssst thing i promise, but ALSO the fact that they kept a lot of the deleted scenes (from the theatrical release)! because this was adapted from the screenplay and not the film itself, we got to read about those scenes which didn’t make it into the initial release of the movie, eg; that shit with dallas im not gonna spoil…

anyways, i think it was fantastic, and i loved it a whole lot. thanks for sending in the ask !!

[voiceofsword]

I'm gonna set up a little tent in your inbox sorry it's cosy here :)

I still think about this so much like what does he mean by this. The shipper brain in me just sees it as rinniki real but I doubt they had that intention like????

Also when he and mayoi talk and niki denies seeing rinne as family only to proceed defending him by claiming he's human like everyone else and he's just shown his "total bastard side" to everyone (but niki knows his true side because he trusts him enough. kinda 🏳️‍🌈)

I've just kinda rambled in your inbox but if you wanna add anything (or delete my ask fair lol) feel free ^^

omg why would i delete this u guys know i love any excuse to talk about them

ill put this under a cut bc screenshots, dont wanna clog ppls dashes !!

my shipper brain AGREES and in large part i think its intentional (not romantically? probably. will i see it that way? well 😏) because these two guys find it impossible to be open about how much the other means to them.. and through that weird tsun-ness it becomes obvious that they're both tiptoeing around it, so much so that when they do, it makes it even More apparent to everyone that something is up... but they both think they're very good at hiding it.

i think niki is especially a worse offender of this bc admitting rinne's just as important to him as it is the other way around is an IMPOSSIBLE CHALLENGE.. like with kohaku there hes like ew rinnes so gross his face makes me sick and not want to eat. hes definitely exaggerating here... what are u overcompensating for. ehem

but niki's love language is literally acts of service, and, well, it's pretty obvious how often he manifests this towards rinne

and in the mayoi conversation you mentioned it's SOOO.. when mayoi mentions that c:b are going to be their coperformers, when niki starts talking about rinne in response, it's almost like.. he's thanking them? bc to him he couldnt care less if they're invited on stage again. but rinne's the first thing he brings up because he knows how much it means to him, and that if anyone deserves a second chance, it's him:

after mayoi says this, niki goes hell no but regardless his next lines all sound really fond:

and i think the underlying sentiment here is that niki thinks rinne deserves the world. that even though hes sometimes an asshole, that beneath it all he's still a Good Person, and niki would give anything to make other people see that. it's not an explicit declaration of love but reading between the lines, hes pouring his heart out to mayoi like, hey i really love this guy. and even tho its not put into words, not properly, anyway, mayoi himself can see it

(especially taking into account that immediately afterwards he asks mayoi for a favor (that would benefit rinne, in the end))

just like him regularly feeding rinne (although sometimes rinne doesn't give him a choice — on several instances where rinne comes up to him like 'im hungry make me food', nikis like 'oh i cant Not feed you. youre being annoying but i cant have you be hungry', bc to him that's how he shows he cares, about rinne or about anyone), insisting that he'll go back home with him, and always, without fail, getting roped into his schemes and ending up enjoying it, bc time he spends with rinne is ultimately time spent with his best friend.

so yeah nikis a little 🏳️‍🌈 ur right

[show-us-kaidenshenandoah]

most of the time, when i make tiktok comments (or comments on youtube or insta or, i guess, social media in general) my brain has me just Fucking Forget that im not in a one-on-one conversation with OP and other people can read what i say. thankfully: this comment is now deleted after i foolishly left it up on tiktok for five months

i dont mind leaving i leaving it up here though because this is tumblr. it fits the vibe. i can mute the post if worst comes to worst, whatever. i think its funny that my friends were more worried about Chris than a literal cockroach lol im just glad the og tiktok comment didnt break containment before i deleted it from there lol but here? this whole site is "containment", itll be fiiiiinnne ...probaabblllyyyy

bc, yeah, luckily, this comment got only 2 likes. it was from a tiktok made by @/nerdymixedpan about: monster fuckery "hear me out"s? golden, great choices, will be allowed to speak even if no one agrees, no one is worried about Tat at all for any of their picks. human "hear me out"s? Tat's wife worries "you just like freaky lil white boys" as Tat is fussed over

but yeah!! Tat's sentiment reminded me of "my childhood (with some lifelong, but not all) 'hear me out's, but it gets worse as we go along" powerpoint i made and showed my friends for powerpoint night. and so i made an admittance in the above comment that, AS A KID (NOT NOW), i had crushes on Chris Mclean from "Total Drama Island" and the Headless Roach Man (is apparently his official wiki name) from "Growing Up Creepie"

and i think, for me, part of it is "monster fuckery? Kaiden-Shenandoah, youve been rarely NOT rigidly asexual your whole life. nobody is going to worry about you loving monster-romances and scream at 'but what about their genitalia?! you cannot possibly want to fucking bed that Lovecraftian horror!!' or some shit, bc you dont have any interest in that, so it's kinda like 'eh... our friends have had worse significant others we have had to tolerate'. at least we dont have to picture how the fuck sex would work" (bc apparently allosexuals, i guess, picture how the hell the sex could work when sizing up a loved one's partner? and they have the audacity to call ME their "favorite lil freaky weirdo". im as "freaky" as freshly cleaned Barnes & Noble, fam, idk what the fuck youre on) and all of that somehow nullifies all possible grotesqueness or horror of my monster picks. like "i kicked my feet and giggled as a lil kid over a nonspeaking, headless, giant cockroach", y'know?? nothing. they give me fucking nothing lmao rip

put an irl cockroach, head or no head (nonspeaking regardless) that is normal-cockroach-size, in front of my friends? there'd be so much screaming. but i get it, sure, the cockroach character in the ppt is 2D animated and will never be real. an actual cockroach is, y'know, obviously real. i get the dissonance there. i do. i get it. im befuddled... but i do get it, yes

and yet somehow the same logic does not impact my human "hear me out"s as my friends went "WTF KAIDEN-SHENANDOAH, YOU CANT GET WITH THIS MAN, HE'S THE DEVIL". like?? okay. but the headless extremely tall cockroach with no speaking-lines who lives in a sewer is fine?? both of these guys are 2D animated. neither are real. still. one of these png files got me a "lmao you cannot be serious... i mean, i GUESS, sure? carry on" and the other png file got me a "KAIDEN-SHENANDOAH, ABSOLUTELY NOT, NO, SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOURE DONE, NO, NOBODY'S HEARING YOU OUT, NO, NOPE, NO, SIT THE FUCK DOWN, LIKE HONESTLY, WTF". and, shockingly, it was the human man who got my friends kicking and screaming

granted, Chris absolutely is a stellar example of "if Satan was a mortal man" but also? s1 and s2 Chris was not so bad, he just did his job. he got unhinged as he stayed at that job. and im ngl im intrigued at the idea of how the fuck would this man function with something as benign yet allowing for obsession like a crush or being in love. but also? yeah, no, the straight-jacket and pillow-walled room i got put in for this one was warranted, yep, i get how i got here

[nanjokei]

i didn't see a post about mtl that you deleted, i was just talking about annoying stuff i saw in fandom and it sounded like you knew the feeling, i didn't mean to sound like i was vaguing something specific

that said i don't speak japanese at all so if you do have thoughts on japanese mtl specifically i'd love to hear them, i'm sure they're insightful!

i see!

im not fluent in japanese at all and if i were to list the languages i actually speak id never list it, i barely know enough to enjoy things amongst myself and even then its a lot of mining terms and looking stuff up EVERY TIME (for example if something has a reading time of 1 hour, it will probably take me 4~5 hrs to get through it best case scenario). so i am not the person to ask at all for this kind of thing. this is not me being humble. it is objective truth. i guess it would be "being familiar enough to enjoy my hobbies" rather than even "knowing" or "being learned". i never made any effort to study so in the end i really only know my native arabic and taught english. so to be honest, it isn't in my place to talk like i do know... (though sometimes... because i am human and a dumbass... i make this mistake)

i would not really share my explicit opinion or retelling on certain happenings and events of what i watched/read because id be afraid of making mistakes that influence the other person's opinion incorrectly. but hey, this is the exact kind of responsibility you're talking about, right?

my opinion squarely comes from being someone who DOES speak at least two languages fluently though, and has been in spaces where fan translation is prominent. so it is a mix of "yeah i completely understand the sentiment even if the target language is different". i don't wanna link a random ass throwaway blog, so i pasted the contents of the old post i made into a pastebin. i thought it was way too emotionally charged and aggressive, which is why i deleted it. im not too fond of coming off like that or "ranting" T_T but i guess it's fine to link now that i'm very removed from the feeling of annoyance i had when i typed it up.

[oohbuggypie]

put under cut even tho this is less a vent and moreso just a WAYYYYYYY. more personal post opposed to my usual ones but wtvr read or don't idrc . just got to get this out in a way that matters ::

(forewarning this turned out super long)

listening to Pink Pony Club by Chappell again after yesterday night n yeah even tho i deleted all those posts talking abt it .. sitting here preparing to cry for a second night in a row because this song is making me rlly think hard again about what i want for my future and ugh it hurts my brain so much , but it brings this kind of relief too . i know the basis of this song is about the strength and resistance it takes to accept ur queer identity and how painful it is to hear the backlash from family that fails to accept you , but it's more the sentiment this song carries about leaving home to pursue what you REALLY desire in life , what will make it yours , what's true to you . im trying so unbelievably hard now to get past my terror of driving due to my visual impairment so i can finally get my license that im well overdue for . im trying now to find anywhere that will take me for a job even if it wipes my weekends from me , because i want more than anything to get the money to not only purchase a passport , but finally travel to all the places ive wanted to for a while now . i want to be in my friends' arms , sit next to them , laugh with them . and maybe later down the line - as much as it genuinely wrenches my soul to say this - move away from home and begin that part of life in a place with better air , with more people who can love me and hurt me less , with people who bring me new opportunities , and vice versa , me to them . it scares me and embarrasses me to say this as well , but for the past 6 months or so , ive wished that one day ill be married . i wanna walk down the aisle even if my mom and dad disapprove of who i love because they can't accept my identity . i love my home with all my heart and it will forever be another form of pain to even begin imagining leaving this place while all my loved ones stay here , but right now that seems to be what i imagine will make my life better . my life is wonderful now , i promise to myself , but i believe there are even greater things i can achieve . i want to change , change for me , change for others , change this pattern . break the pattern . i want to be the one that makes it through college , the one who travels , the one who keeps friends , the one who never touches a drug again , never smokes a cigarette , never abuses a bottle , never gives up , never causes that same degree of pain again , do all i can and do what they couldn't . not to paint them as weak , but prove to myself that it is possible.

i imagine the Pink Pony Club as a place that is bustling with souls , but every single person feels so painfully empty and lonely because they feel they don't belong . i really do feel as if im dancing at this club , i feel so alone , i feel so lonely , i feel so afraid , i feel that there are so few people that believe me when i say i wanna change , but ill do anything to prove to myself that it is possible . the final "im gonna keep on dancing" , belted distantly with that beautiful vocal run , resonates with me so painfully deep . it takes a lot to even acknowledge any of this , and even more to begin accepting it . so to swear to take such action with that degree of strength despite being shunned and not believed in such a true display of resistance and defiance to me . despite the massive amounts of pain and tears im in even though the reality has barely begun , i think im gonna keep on dancing thru it all until .. whenever . im just gonna keep dancing thru all the tears and learn the rhythm . even if i don't achieve all of this , even if it changes , even if none of this even ends up being what i really want , im just gonna keep dancing until the music ends .

anyway it's 11 almost . ive had a splitting headache for over an hour now and these tears aren't helping in ceasing its pounding at all .. goodnight

[onismdaydream]

Aww i’m sorry you’re not feeling that well lately. If you wanna delete your tumblr it’s okay, but you can also take a lil break or even make a sideblog for yourself 🥺 hope you feel better soon. I really like reading your fics

thank you for sending this anon. i think i care too much about what others think of me, even though i try to pretend i dont. sometimes the smallest things can set me off when i get in a bad mood and i start to spiral and im sorry for freaking out like that. i probably wont ever be able to delete this blog because im too sentimental

[emotionallyrin]

im not doing better

this post is kinda an update, it's a proof that i'm still thinking about this platform and in full a talk about what i've been doing and how i'm still alive. showing how i'm still needing help and unable to get it.

may, for 3 weeks straight i couldn't think and had to purely spend all my focus on college. my brain was a mess, i was tired and it was normal. college students were expected to have a heavy workload so it wasn't like my struggling was abnormal and needed help. it just didn't help with my depression.

mostly these 3 weeks kinda acted as some form of therapy, i got my mind of what shitty thoughts i had and onto something else. it was stressful but it removed the thoughts i had for a brief period; also i leaned more into my kpop addiction during this time and it really helped me feel happy.

i finished those 3 weeks, took a short break and cleaned my room. felt that things were good for once. the title lied, i'm doing somewhat better but it's like the world hates me. in the last few days alone its been trying to bring up everything to make me hate myself.

old pictures of a friend i lost, pictures i thought i deleted coming back to haunt me and remind me of the grief i felt over that time. they're not dead, they just betrayed me heavily. it hurt. seeing them again made me feel dragged down, like a void was pulling me back to my roots and i was unable to escape. just as i thought i reached happiness- it ended with me getting so blinded by rage i hurt my hand and laid empty for a while.

throughout the month, although i was distracted a lot, i did write a few draft vents. things i needed to get out but never could at the time because time constraints i had or the inability to draw strength to write what i wanted, now i have the time and lack of care. half way through my pit of hell i thought of my ex again, and it hurt for a while. seems cliche and annoying, brooding over my ex, and it was. it hurt though.

on the positive, since that day i haven't felt all too bad about my ex. not as bad as i used to at least, being fully detached for 2 straight months has helped. april felt like the last month i had to deal with torture around that issue. in general, that month was mostly me alone. it was peaceful and a grind, i felt dead mostly. telling myself to meet the deadline on repeat like i was about to collapse. my brain felt numb, my headaches were loud, my brain almost split.

this past week of rest, has been amazing. i had a few days feeling like i was truly happy for once, thinking why do i need to be guilty that i'm over depression. then things slowly tumbled over and over. the nightmares started again; an old friend who died 2 years ago slowly pops into my dreams. i hate it. it's why i go to see his grave, like i'm paying respects to show i still remember so memories don't hurt me.

we weren't all too close but i'm sentimental i guess- apparently funerals does something to me. it's like my phobia with blood; i wasn't scared before i saw it but then it's now one of the only things i'm scared of.

my birthday is on wednesday. i have a headache, it really hurts. i feel like i'm going to cry alone that day or do something i regret. a friend i have, a lot closer than the other one, had his brother die recently. so recent actually he's not showing up to classes anymore. i didn't know his brother all too well but i'm going to the funeral for him- i'm very empathetic so i don't know how it will go. the funeral is on my birthday. i think i'm going to breakdown and cry.

[ketavinsky]

I like the house analogy a lot. I’ve never had any long term friendships, I tend to drift in and out of people’s lives. I don’t seem to make meaningful connections or leave an impact on anyone the way they do for me. It definitely makes me feel like wandering. If I had it my way I’d live nomadically, packing up and leaving anytime I got too familiar with a location. Maybe it’s a bit of a self-sabotage but I never learned how to be okay with being known. I think I regret deleting the pictures but not for me. I have trouble with memories so I regret losing the parts of my friends but I have no regrets about my own image. I’ve never had a strong sense of self; I can’t recognize myself in pictures or mirrors. I hate looking at pictures of me because it feels wrong in the back of my mind, like something is off or missing. Being trans only made that more pressing for old pictures. I’m trying to learn to take more pictures now for memory sake, mostly of places I go or people I meet rather than myself though. Have you found people you fit with yet or are you still wandering too? I suppose if I’m gonna keep bothering you I could maybe sign off? -N

hullo N! youre not bothering me but i apologise for the long response times. i have a weird thing about only responding to messages when i feel like... i would be able to give an appropriate dedicated/interested answer..... like. i dunno i kind of see online shit as the last frontier of non performative interaction so i try not to be disingenuous in ways that make sense to me as often as i can. esp on this site. the viscera site. anyways. that aside. i get what you mean when you say like... you dont feel like you have an impact on anything. obviously i cant comment on anything goin in your life but i do... i do understand the sentiment. i got a friend who's a big wanderer, real nomadic, just wants to travel and travel and circle back every so often like hes some kind of planet goin round on this massive orbit but.... im not sure about you but the concept intimidates me. not the wandering i suppose but the lack of security like- what do i do if something goes wrong? what do i do if i need somebody? what do i do if its still and silent and i cant bear it and ive been swept away to some place and past all the dancing and the gorgeous ephemerality and the wraithlike presence what do i do if i need somebody? you know? would appreciate your thoughts.

i get what you mean with the photos. i also deleted a lot of my photos. even when i was a kid like real little i felt a deep sense of nauseous disgust almost when i looked at photos of myself i always felt like even in pictures where we were all like 8 9 10 years old and playing in the grass that it was immediately noticeable that i was different in some irreconcilable way and i couldnt stand the idea of anyone else noticing it. i dont. i dont know why. i can kind of circle around what i think is why (?? does that make sense) but i still dont know where the feeling comes from. do you? i feel like all the pictures i see of myself are different actors and i think thats because at any given moment im always really just staring at myself from some outside voyeur pov. it's a little more manageable now but when i turned 23 i began to realise how... well. virulent? harmful? destructive? it was to my sense of... self. i dont know. what's it like fr you?

now i wish i could say that id found my people and after so long of feelin so lonely everythings okay now but this year has been tough and its only just started. do you ever miss times in your life that were really horrible wherein you were incessantly miserable, for the ability to feel? that's how it is. i oft find myself revisiting memories with people who were objectively not good for me and my love for them was in a way destroying me and every single day was some fucking trial but i miss the certainty of... knowing who i was in those times. what i was. ive been writing about that a lot. i have a paragraph somewhere here that vaguely mentions it but i have to immerse myself in the feeling to write my book shit so i just think about it all the time, really, all the time without end. fair warning there for lots of weepy waxing on and on over Just Stuff That Happened. i think now i have people that are good to be around and i love them deeply and i think i can trust that they love me but each day it feels like the chasm between me n them widens you know? and you ever feel like sometimes people dont really know the things that you know? at least not in a way that matters?

[knivestothroats]

director's commentary AKA responding to tags!

@patheticlittleguy : #also. did they pick tommy at least in part because of the name? or would they rather it was something else...#also ALSO cambell soup mug 👀 im connecting the dots

So glad you brought this up because I was going to say something about it and forgot. My idea was actually that Fletcher would make Tommy go by a different name. What he picks would be up to victimeyez, but Tommy is actually his middle name and Caius made him start going by it, so he'd probably be okay changing it. But victimeyez said he probably wouldn't go by his real first name because he doesn't feel like he is that person anymore. But, since I didn't write out that scene, it would've been too confusing to just have him go by a different name. I don't think Fletcher calls him Tommy at any point though.

The mug - I originally didn't describe it, and then I though naw Fletcher would have cool mugs. So first I wrote that it had the name of the diner they stole it from, but diner mugs tend to be pretty small. My partner suggested souvenir from a national park or something so I was thinking about that but then I was like OH i know. I think it was a mug they gave their dead friend Tommy as a gift years ago, and it ended up back in their possession. But idk, they might keep it somewhere safe if it had that kind of sentimental value.

There's too many Tommys - Tommy ProVic, Tommy ITWS, and Tommy victimeyez

also patheticlittleguy: #i love how weirdly chill they are. like yeah ill beat the shit out of someone. but right now im just trying to make dinner#they use violence so casually in a way that isnt common even within whump i think#not even casually just. routinely?#theyre possibly the most well adjusted one can be when your lifes work and passion is inflicting pain lmao

Truly. Fletcher is just living their life and happens to be a sadist. Their actions make perfect sense to them, but to their captives it's a minefield. Lot of fun to write - I get to do a little of everything through them.

@apokolyps : #i forgot just how much i love fletcher and their “yes this is objectively immoral but im having fun so idc” attitude#its so refreshing

Fletcher is like "I have done the soul searching and come to terms with it. I am a bad person and this is the life I have chosen. No plans on trying to 'better' myself. Why would I? This is my authentic self. I hurt people, people have hurt me. I've killed people, people have tried to kill me back and maybe one day, one of them will do it. I know what I signed up for. I'll have fun in the meantime."

also apokolyps: #also how they said “when” not “if” they were gonna rape tommy was more horrifying to me than anything else

So this is another thing that I thought about and it just didn't make it into the piece. Victimeyez and I came up with a few possibilities that led to Tommy at the lodge, so I just kind of skipped ahead so we didn't have to nail one down. But one of the first things we talked about was just: What if Caius leaves Tommy with Fletcher for a weekend/few days. Since Fletcher's a professional, lives deep in the woods, and also managed to keep a captive, they're the only client Caius would trust to watch Tommy for a bit. Kind of ignoring the rule that Caius has to supervise but ehh AU. Or, again, just trusting Fletcher as a professional. But Caius is thinking Fletcher will just torture Tommy the whole time, so he can be like 'See how good you have it with me? Aren't you grateful?' Except Fletcher just makes Tommy weed the garden and stuff. I mean they probably hurt him at some point for kicks but overall it's WAY better. So at the end Tommy begs Fletcher not to send him back. And Fletcher's like "look idk what you want me to do, man." And Tommy's like "I don't want to get raped anymore." And Fletcher just like. Closes their eyes and sighs. And it ends up being like that scene in Doctor Who (deleted scene? idr) where he's trying to get the horse out of the TARDIS and the owner is like "Have you seen a horse? When I find that thing I'm going to beat it." And the Doctor's like, "Oh, I wish you hadn't said that." And then goes back to the horse and is like, "Okay, we have rules around here..."

Because I always kind of figure that Fletcher really doesn't like rape. If someone asked why they draw the line there when it's really just another form of torture, they probably wouldn't be able to give much of an answer - they just don't like it. And I think it's mostly do to Fletcher being ace and having their own aversion to sex, because - kind of like I mentioned above - they feel like they can take what they dish out. Not that they want to be on the receiving end of torture, but they've gotten hurt and nearly killed plenty of times. But the idea of rape is so much worse.

So, if I had written that scene, I thought about a conversation that was basically Fletcher: I thought you said you didn't want to get raped anymore. Tommy: But... I'm offering... Fletcher: Oh yeah, because you want this, you're doing this because you're attracted to me. Get the fuck out of here.

So, they really are joking for the most part when they say "If I want to take advantage of you I'll let you know" because they think it's kind of a funny thing to say, but also know that like. Definitely only funny to them and not to Tommy. I also thought about them saying something like, "Love how easy you are to take advantage of, but you are NOT catching me with my pants down."

God that turned into a long fucking response. Moving on!

@suspicious-whumping-egg : #aaaa I just love fletcher’s mix of cruelty and softness combined with how jumpy and desperate to please tommy is

It's a lot of fun to write this dynamic. Buck was more like "Maybe if I stay in my room they'll forget I exist" and Tommy is like "If I can be useful then everything will be fine"

apokolyps: #i wonder what buck's reaction would be to knowing Fletcher got themselves a replacement and @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi : How would Buck feel, finding out he got replaced by a “professional?” How would Tommy feel knowing the last guy in his role was just a dude from the woods that eventually got let go?

I have been trying to think of a reason Buck would show up at the lodge and see Tommy. I really want it to happen. It's soooo juicy since Buck is the guy that Got Out and now he's free but knows what Tommy is going through and feels uhhh not good about it.

Tommy also had it way worse and for way longer than Buck. Tommy at this point is like a zoo animal that couldn't survive being released back into the wild. I mean I don't want to say that definitively, but it would not be as easy for him. Hell, it's hard enough for Buck.

I thought about Fletcher mentioning something about "the last guy they had here" or whatever when talking to Tommy, and Tommy's like "What? What happened to him?" and Fletcher has to be like "Uhhhh... I let him go. But only because he saved my life. If you save my life I'll let you go too I guess. Do NOT try to orchestrate that."

Buck also being in an awkward position where he's like "I would give you advice but what worked for me is probably not going to happen again, sooo...."

I feel like Buck would try to convince Fletcher to let Tommy go, which wouldn't work, and then Buck would kind of feel compelled to come visit Tommy sometimes, which is like a great unexpected side effect from Fletcher's perspective. Fletcher's like "Wow this is great we're all hanging out as friends" and the boys are just like "...Right..." *side eye*

~In conclusion~ There's plenty room here in this AU to keep writing. We also have variations of the AU so lol I'm sure there will be more

In The Woods Somewhere + Professional//Victim Crossover AU

@victimeyez and I like to play with our OCs together like dolls. We came up with a number of ways Tommy ends up with Fletcher but this is a "my mom sold me to one direction" type AU where Fletcher buys Tommy to basically replace Buck.

CW: long term captivity/human trafficking, withholding food (in past), physical violence, burning, dubious consent sort of, guns in places they shouldn't be

read In The Woods Somewhere here || read Professional//Victim here

Scene 1

Tommy hadn’t experienced a thunderstorm in years.

It rained sometimes when he was on his way to a client, but having lived in a basement for the last five years, he had forgotten their intensity. How loud the incessant, arrhythmic rainfall echoed down from the roof. How lightning could suddenly illuminate the whole room in a flash. How he could feel the house shake with the roar of thunder. Or maybe it was just him shaking. He felt like a dog on the fourth of July. 

It was stupid, after everything he’d been through, to be afraid of the weather.

A bright flash through the window again, followed shortly by a crack of thunder that he could feel in his chest. They were getting closer together. 

There’s no way Tommy could sleep. He was sitting up in his bed in his new home, knees to his chest with his arms wrapped around. 

As much as he loathed Caius, he did provide comfort at times. It was twisted, but it was something. Fletcher… he wasn’t sure about. They had been more reserved so far, treating him with a sort of casual amiability. But Tommy was well aware how Fletcher reveled in inflicting pain. He just hadn’t figured out yet when and why they shed the wool to become the wolf.

Another flash. Tommy tried to brace himself, but he still jumped at the thunder.

Tommy swung his legs off the bed. He stared at the door for a second before going through into the hallway. It was still strange to not be locked in.

He walked gently down the dark hallway. He knew where Fletcher’s room was - they had pointed it out on his first day with a strict do not enter.

Tommy stood outside Fletcher’s bedroom door. He rubbed his hands over his arms. 

This was ridiculous. Going to Fletcher for comfort? Like a child waking up their parents after having a bad dream? During a thunderstorm of all things. He should just go back to - 

Flash. Crack.

Tommy knocked on Fletcher’s door. He tried to listen for movement over the sound of the rain. They probably hadn’t even heard him over the din. Maybe he should knock again, or maybe he should go back - 

Fletcher opened the door, wearing just a t-shirt, gym shorts, and bed head. They squinted at him in the dark.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing out of Tommy’s mouth. “I, um. I can’t sleep and, um…”

Fletcher was silhouetted as their room lit up. The thunder followed so quickly behind, rumbling through the house, that Tommy didn’t have time to count. 

Fletcher saw Tommy flinch hard, drawing his shoulders up by his ears.

“You’re scared of thunder?”

Tommy felt his face redden, in spite of himself. He should be incapable of embarrassment at this point, after all the humiliation he was put through, but he just felt childish.

“Alright, come in,” Fletcher said with a yawn, moving aside to make way. “Don’t try to kill me in my sleep.”

“Really?” Tommy asked, perking up. He took a hesitant step into the room. “Can I, um, do you mind if I share the bed?”

“Yeah I assumed that was what you were asking,” Fletcher grumbled, shutting the door behind him.

Fletcher took their side first, and Tommy took the other. He laid stiff in the bed, making sure they had a gap between them. Tommy had wondered if sharing the bed would come with a cost, putting himself in a vulnerable position within Fletcher’s grasp. But Fletcher had turned their back to him, sleeping on their side.

He was still on edge. Was sleeping beside Fletcher really better than being alone?

There was a flicker of lightning, followed by a grumble of thunder. Not as loud this time, but enough to make Tommy nervous. 

Tommy turned on his side as well and carefully scooted over until his back was brushing against Fletcher’s. He held his breath, but they didn’t react. 

Tommy could feel their warmth seep into him. He let out a slow breath. It was definitely better than being alone.

~

Fletcher had managed to tune out the storm into white noise, but they were a light sleeper, forever on edge. They opened their eyes in the darkness, listening to Tommy murmur and shift in his sleep.

Fletcher rolled over and draped their arm over Tommy’s middle.

“Shhh,” they hushed gently.

Tommy’s shirt had ridden up, and he whimpered when Fletcher made contact with his skin.

Fletcher tensed up at the noise. Tommy was definitely asleep, but that whimper was perfect. They wondered if he practiced it for his clients. It was difficult to resist the urge to wrap their arm tight around him and squeeze, trying to elicit the sound again. 

Fletcher moved their hand over Tommy’s bare torso. They could feel his ribs too distinctly beneath his skin. Caius and the others probably had him skipping meals. Whether to keep up his waifish victim aesthetic, to keep him weak, to punish him, or just from neglect.  Fletcher figured he would put on weight quickly here. He was going to need to, if he was going to keep up with the work Fletcher had for him to do around the lodge. 

~

“Get up.”

Tommy gasped awake as a hand jostled him from his sleep. He looked around quickly, getting his bearings, and saw Fletcher leaning over him.

“I’m getting up, you can’t stay in my room alone,” Fletcher said.

“Oh,” Tommy rubbed his eyes. “Right. Okay. Thank you… for letting me sleep here.”

“Uh huh,” Fletcher said. “I’m making breakfast.”

“Do you want me to help?”

“Mm, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay… do you want me to make your bed?” Tommy offered, trying to show his gratitude.

“No,” Fletcher said flatly. They gestured to the door. 

“Right, sorry.” Tommy hurried out of the room. “Um, would it be alright if I took a shower? Or do you want me to wait?”

“All yours, bud,” Fletcher said, closing the door shut behind them. “Just don’t take too long. You want to get the breakfast while it’s hot.”

~

Tommy turned the water up as hot as he could stand. It staved off the chill that seemed to linger in the lodge. He allowed himself a few moments to just stand under the stream after he had washed, but Fletcher had told him not to take long, and he didn’t want to push it.

Tommy dried and dressed quickly, scrunching his hair with the shirt he had slept in and finger-combing it out of his face. He made his way to the kitchen, which was already calling his name with rich, savory smells.

Fletcher was standing at the stove, stirring one pan with a spatula while another sizzled away next to them. 

“What smells so good?” Tommy asked, trying to peer into the pans.

“Onions and bacon, mostly,” Fletcher said.

“Do you need any help?” Tommy offered.

There was a pop, pop as a pair of bagels sprung up from a two-sided toaster.

“Yeah, grab those bagels for me and add butter and cream cheese. There’s plates in that cabinet, silverware in that drawer.”

Tommy moved swiftly to do as he was told. 

When he had plated them, Fletcher carried over the first pan.

“Okay, get out of my way.” 

It was said lightheartedly, but Tommy still leapt back.

“Just take a seat,” Fletcher nodded to the kitchen table. “It’s ready.”

Tommy sat down and watched as Fletcher assembled the plates, but their body was blocking his view. It wasn’t until they set his breakfast down in front of him that he was able to take it in. 

Scrambled eggs with multicolor peppers, strips of bacon, a sausage, and the bagel he had prepared.

He couldn’t believe how much his mouth was watering.

“It’s veggie sausage,” Fletcher said. “I only had a couple left. Oh - you want coffee?”

Tommy looked up at them wide eyed. Fletcher had told him on the first day that he could help himself to food in the kitchen, but he had been too afraid to touch their coffee maker. Even when there was a pot already made, he had been too anxious that he wasn’t supposed to take any.

“Yes, please.”

“How do you take it?” Fletcher asked, getting a mug from the shelf. It was designed to look like a can of Campbell’s tomato soup. 

“A lot of sugar and cream,” Tommy said. “Please. If you don’t mind.”

Fletcher heaped two spoonfuls of sugar into the mug and then looked in the fridge. 

“Mm, I just have oat milk right now.”

“Okay, that’s fine, thank you,” Tommy said, even though he had never tried it before.

Fletcher splashed some into the mug before pouring the steaming coffee on top. They gave it a stir and set it down in front of Tommy.

Tommy hadn’t touched his food. He stared at the spread before him, not quite believing it was really for him.

Fletcher settled down across the table with their matching meal and began to eat.

“I don’t know where to start,” Tommy said in a small voice.

“Eggs,” Fletcher provided.

Tommy scooped up a forkful of the scrambled eggs and took his first bite. 

It wasn’t just peppers, there were onions and cheese mixed in as well. The texture was perfect - they weren't dry or runny. 

“Wow,” Tommy said. He followed it with a long sip of coffee. It wasn’t as sweetened as he would have made it for himself once upon a time, but it was hot and rich and maybe the best cup he’d ever had.

He might actually start crying. 

“The secret is cream cheese,” Fletcher said, gesturing to his eggs with their fork. “And to scramble it in the pan. How’s the coffee?”

“So good,” Tommy said. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” Fletcher started to pile their eggs and bacon onto the bagel. “How often were you being fed before?”

“Um, twice a day, usually,” Tommy said. “Sometimes… less.”

Fletcher nodded. “Figured. You need to start increasing your caloric intake. I need you to do work around here and I don’t want you passing out after an hour in the garden.”

Tommy took a bite of the bagel. The layer of butter under the cream cheese felt so indulgent. 

“If it means I get to eat like this every day, I am more than happy to oblige,” Tommy said.

“Well, I’m not cooking every meal for you,” Fletcher said. “But I want you to eat.”

I want you to eat.

Even if it was to work him like a dog, it was so much better than being worked like a dog on an empty stomach. Despite Fletcher’s generally cold aloofness and passing threats, despite having been the victim of their bloodlust in the past, Tommy felt oddly cared for.

He took another bite of the eggs and hoped he could get Fletcher to teach him how to cook like this.

Scene 2

Fletcher had their sleeves rolled tightly up above their elbows. On their hands they wore black disposable gloves. Tommy watched as those hands deftly sectioned the chickens into pieces, their well-sharpened knife effortlessly cutting through the flesh. 

Tommy had to let his eyes drift away. He watched Fletcher’s arms instead. They tended to hide their form under layers, but every time they rolled up their sleeves, it revealed their muscle tone. Tommy wondered why they didn’t show it off - most people would. He noticed as well, as he watched, that Fletcher had some lighter lines on their skin - old scars haphazardly slashed into their arms. He imagined them getting into knife fights. He imagined them holding someone down by the throat with both hands, arms tensed, as their victim clawed at their skin to no avail.

Fletcher moved the chicken pieces into a bowl of marinade. Spice bottles were cluttering the counter around it. 

Fletcher covered the bowl and set it aside. They cleaned up, discarding their gloves and disinfecting their work space. 

Tommy had been tasked with washing the potatoes he and Fletcher had harvested from the garden. Fletcher had asked him to take his time, making sure each one was free of dirt in the divots, as they wouldn’t be peeling them. He was worried, when Fletcher turned to him, that they would be angry he hadn’t gotten through the whole crop, but they merely began to take from the clean pile and start cutting them into chunks. 

“When you’re done with that can you go through the green beans and just make sure to snap all the stems off?” Fletcher asked.

Tommy nodded. “Sure.”

They had picked the beans together as well. It felt nice to be doing something actually productive for a change. 

When they were done, Fletcher dumped the potatoes into a big pot of water but didn’t light the stove. They sighed, looking at the clock and chewed their lip a moment.

“I should’ve started this earlier. I’m already starting to get hungry,” Fletcher said. “I just want everything to be done at the same time.”

Fletcher shook their head like they were hoping the thoughts would fall into place. They took a baking sheet and returned to the chicken, laying the pieces out.

“I’m done,” Tommy said from his spot at the table with his bowl of beans. He swept the stem pieces into his hand and got up to dump them in the trash.

“Ah-ah!” Fletcher waved their hand at him, causing Tommy to stop abruptly. “Compost.”

“Right, sorry.” Tommy ducked his head.

“Just give the beans a rinse and then you’re done for now,” Fletcher said. “I’ll call you back when it’s ready.”

It was a while later when Fletcher called Tommy back into the kitchen. He was sitting out on the back deck, just feeling the sun on his skin and listening to the birds, when Fletcher opened the door and leaned out.

“I need your help,” they said.

Tommy jumped up and followed them in.

“I forgot to make fucking gravy,” Fletcher growled. “I just need you to mash the potatoes for me while I whip this up. And just shake the pan with the green beans occasionally to move them around.”

The kitchen was hot now, and Tommy quickly shrugged off his sweatshirt before taking over the potatoes. Fletcher was mixing ingredients when there was a thud above them, followed by an indiscernible shout, followed by, “Fletcherrrrr!”

“Jesus Christ,” Fletcher rolled their eyes. “Okay in like two minutes you need to take the chicken out of the oven and check it. 165. Don’t forget to shake the pan.” They rattled off instructions as they marched out of the kitchen. 

Tommy kept an eye on the clock, rolling the beans in their saute oil. They looked kind of brown? He looked closer, not wanting Fletcher to come back and find them burned. Hm, no, he was pretty sure it was whatever they were being cooked in. Balsamic maybe? There were chopped onions in with it as well, and those similarly looked a little brown but not burnt. 

He checked the clock again. Okay, two minutes. Tommy looked around the counter, seeing the thermometer but no oven mitts. There was one pot holder laying out, and he folded the towel hanging off the oven door to go with it.

The tray was heavily laden with the chicken, heavier than Tommy expected it to be. He tried to adjust his grip so it didn’t tip backwards, but his adjustments shifted his fingertips off the towel. 

Tommy quickly pulled his hand away from the heat. Now holding the tray with one hand, it began to go sideways. Instinctively he tried to catch it, only serving to touch the hot metal again. This time, his brain - desperate to keep him from making the same mistake a third time - drew back his hands completely and the tray clattered to the floor, scattering the chicken. 

Tommy’s heart leapt to his throat. He dropped to his hands and knees and picked up a piece of chicken, dropping it immediately.

It’s hot, it’s all fucking hot, he berated himself. He started using the towel to scoop up the chicken. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he piled it back onto the tray. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears he didn’t hear Fletcher’s footsteps. It wasn’t until he saw their boots that he looked up.

As if they had materialized before him, summoned by his fuck up, Fletcher stood glowering down at him. They held a bloody rag in their hand from whatever they had been dealing with upstairs.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy said. “I’ll… I’ll…” Fix it? How was he going to fix it?

Fletcher closed their eyes and dug the heel of their palm into their temple. 

“Do you have any idea the amount of effort that went into this dinner?”

“I know, I’m sorry-” Tommy started again.

Fletcher cut him off. “You don’t know. I had to drive an hour and a half just to get these chickens. Every time I have to leave the lodge it’s a fucking ordeal. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but there’s not much around here. I can’t run to the grocery store without making a day of it. I can’t order fucking take out to fix this. You do know how long this took me today to put together.”

“I do, I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Fletcher reached down and slammed Tommy’s head against the cabinets. 

“Stop fucking saying you’re sorry! I know you’re fucking sorry! What happened?”

Tommy held his head, trying to blink his vision back after it whited out.

Fletcher crouched down on their haunches and grabbed Tommy by the front of his shirt, giving him a quick shake. 

“Hey! What the fuck happened?”

“I, uh, I burned my hand…” Tommy said, keeping his eyes low. He held back another “sorry.”

“You burned your hand?” Fletcher repeated unsympathetically. “Where?”

Tommy glanced up at them and hesitantly opened up his hand to them. Fletcher grabbed his wrist with more force than necessary.

“You think this is a burn?” They snarled. “I’ll show you a fucking burn.”

Fletcher took Tommy’s hand and pressed it down against the still hot metal pan.

Tommy screamed and Fletcher allowed him to jerk his arm away. He cradled his hand to his chest, tears escaping from his eyes.

Fletcher stood again, looking down on him.

“Don’t bother getting up. You’re going to be scrubbing the floor.”

Fletcher turned around to storm off, only to see the three trainees leaning around the doorway to observe.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Fletcher snapped.

One held up their hands and made themself scarce.

“Does this mean there’s no dinner?” Another asked.

“There’s potatoes,” Fletcher grumbled. Then they suddenly turned back and dashed to the pan of green beans, taking it off the heat. They inspected the vegetables, ignoring Tommy sniffling on the ground, trying to scoop up the chicken with one hand. “Yeah, these are fine. There’s also green beans.”

Scene 3

Tommy had experienced more types of pain than he could count, but burning was usually off the table to clients. Too much deep tissue damage. It was scary to think that his hand may never be the same. And if it was to recover, it was going to do so at the slow, agonizing crawl of natural healing. 

Tommy did his best not to flinch as Fletcher applied the cream to his burns. He just had to suck air between his teeth and not complain. 

“How’s it feel?” Fletcher asked once they had finished wrapping the gauze. 

“It stings,” Tommy said pitifully. “It feels like I’m still being burned. Do you think… do you think it’s going to be okay? Eventually?”

“Well, if you want to give me the information of that doctor you used to see, I’m sure he can give you a magic healing potion or whatever the fuck. Once I decide you’ve suffered enough.”

Tommy’s stomach flopped. He would take a burn any day of the week if it meant he never had to see Sam again.

“Please don’t take me back to him,” Tommy begged softly. 

Fletcher raised an eyebrow, but said no more on the subject. They peeled off their gloves.

“Then here’s how it will go. It’ll hurt, and then it will blister, and then the blisters will pop. You have to keep it clean so it doesn’t get infected. If you find yourself unable to do simple tasks because you can’t use one of your hands, you can come find me…” Fletcher took his chin in their hand. “And beg for my help.”

~

Tommy slept with his hand cradled against his chest. There was a brief moment of peace when he awoke before he began to feel the throb of the burns. 

He kept his arm close to his torso as he walked to the kitchen, trying to think of what he could make for himself. Surely he could manage a bowl of cereal with one hand.

The box was easy enough. Tommy got the milk from the fridge. Oh yeah - oat milk. He held the container between his arm and his side, twisting the cap off with his good hand. Looked like milk.

He thought about pouring some into a glass to try, when Fletcher walked in, carrying dirty dishes to the sink.

They glanced in Tommy’s direction, then away, saying nothing. 

“I can-” it came out quiet and hoarse. Tommy cleared his throat and tried again. “I can wash those.”

“Can you?” Fletcher asked without looking back at him. 

“Um, I can, well, I can try…” Tommy offered. 

Fletcher turned to face him now, leaning back on the counter. “If you drop something, and it breaks,” they said, “I am not going to be happy.”

Tommy paled. “Is there - is there something else you would like me to do?”

“Not really,” Fletcher said. They walked out of the room. 

Tommy wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. They hadn’t told him not to do the dishes, just not to break them. And if he misinterpreted their response as a no, and they came back to find that he hadn’t washed them, they might be angry.

His strategy for washing dishes with one hand was to lay them in the sink, scrub them there with one hand as best he could, and then move them into the stream of water.

It took longer, and was more awkward - they kept sliding around - but he was able to do it.

When Tommy found Fletcher next, they were out behind the lodge chopping wood. He watched them raise the axe over their shoulder and swing down on the log, cleaving it easily in two. 

“Do you want any help?” Tommy called out, keeping his distance.

“No,” Fletcher called back, setting up the log again.

Tommy hesitated. “Is there anything you would like me to-“

“What the fuck did I just say?”

Chop.

Tommy left them alone the rest of the day. He kept to his room, trying to give Fletcher space now that they had made it clear they didn’t want him around. For a while he tried to read, but he struggled to find a comfortable way to both hold the book and flip the pages. He ended up pacing the floor, filled with anxious nerves that urged him to do something.

He had been having such a… if not good, unquestionably better time here than he’d had with Caius and the rest. This was a bad turn. It didn’t have to be like this. He just had to make it up to Fletcher somehow; get back in their good graces

He had tried to make himself useful around the house without much success. It was true that what he could do would be limited while his hand was injured. Which meant he had to rely on other skills to make himself useful.

~

Everyone else had gone to bed. It was just Fletcher sitting on the couch, illuminated only by the fluctuating light of the TV screen. They had a beer in one hand, resting on the arm of the couch.

Tommy approached slowly, tugging on the hem of his shirt with anxiousness. Fletcher didn’t acknowledge him, even when he was standing in front of the couch. He kept to the side enough not to block their view.

It was only when Tommy lowered himself to his knees that Fletcher said, “What?” without taking their eyes off the screen.

“I’m really sorry about the dinner,” Tommy said. His stomach rippled with anxiety.

“I know,” Fletcher said flatly. “You’ve said.”

Tommy swallowed. He hesitantly leaned in and nuzzled his cheek against Fletcher’s leg.

Fletcher finally looked down at him.

“I would like to make it up to you.”

“How’s that?”

Fletcher said it flatly. Disinterested, still annoyed. There was no flirtation nor cruel amusement in their voice. 

Tommy swallowed. Was this a bad idea? Or was he not making it obvious enough? Most people would jump on him at the mere suggestion. 

Tommy put a hand on Fletcher’s knee and ran in gently up their thigh. Not far, not overstepping. Just trying to give them the right idea. He looked up at them with his best wet dog expression.

“Okay,” Fletcher said. 

They set their beer down on the end table and shifted their pose, spreading their legs a little more. Tommy dutifully shuffled in between.

Nothing you haven’t done before, he told himself. It’ll be better afterwards. 

“Close your eyes.” Fletcher said. And once he had, “Open your mouth.”

Tommy opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out a little. He waited, listening to Fletcher shift on the couch. Probably opening their pants. A click, that must’ve been their belt buckle. 

What entered his mouth was too big, too hard, too metallic. 

Tommy’s eyes flew open as the barrel of the gun forced his jaw wider. He tried to pull back, but Fletcher snatched a fistful of his hair and held him in place. 

Tommy whimpered that beautiful whimper, but it was more rounded, more frantic.

“Breathe through your nose,” Fletcher said.

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut and followed the order. He tried to breathe deep and slow through his nose. He tried to keep his tongue down as far as he could, to not gag and to not taste the oiled metal.

“I want you to look at me now.”

Tommy slowly opened his eyes. Fletcher was staring down at him impassively.

“Don’t try this shit with me again.”

Tommy couldn’t nod, so he did his best to make an “Uh huh” noise. 

Fletcher withdrew the gun. Tommy doubled forward and hacked. His mouth was left with an awful taste.

“Don’t spit on the floor,” Fletcher said. They picked up a magazine from the cushion beside them and slid it back into the gun. “Go.”

Tommy clamored to his feet and ran off. He managed to get to his room and close the door before fully breaking down into sobs, sliding down to the floor.

He had just been trying to make things better.

~

Tommy cried himself to sleep. Nothing new. He had just hoped to break the habit. 

He shuffled into the kitchen in the morning, and froze when he saw Fletcher sitting at the table, nursing a mug of coffee.

Tommy dropped his gaze quickly. He tried to decide quickly whether he should leave now, or grab some food and then leave. 

“Hey,” Fletcher said. It was softer than Tommy expected. “Sit.”

No running now. Tommy drew out the chair across from them and sat down, still avoiding their gaze.

“I recognize… that I have been harsh,” Fletcher said.

Tommy slowly lifted his eyes towards them, trying to read their expression. Was this a trick? Was he supposed to tell them he deserved it all? Was he supposed to believe them, and be lulled into a false sense of security?

“I didn’t give you a concussion, but, you know, the head can be tricky. And your hand…” They looked for the words. “I try to - I want to keep you in working condition. Nothing that’s going to really put you out of commission for a while. So that probably won’t happen again. Not to your hands. And the gun…” Fletcher ran a hand over their face. “The gun was a lot. That was uncool of me because, you know, gun safety rules.”

Tommy’s mouth was hanging slightly ajar. Was this an apology? At least, as close as Fletcher could get to one? He had expected something closer to, I recognize I’ve been harsh, but if you behaved I wouldn’t have to do these things.

“I know how it feels to have a gun on you,” Fletcher continued. They were the one to look away now. “And I… forget, I guess. That most people aren’t used to it. Can’t shake it off.

“Look, I’m not… not gonna say it will never happen again, but it probably won’t be this bad most of the time. Plenty of days will go by without incident, I’m sure. But I am… a violent person. I have violent tendencies, and I get angry. And I’m not trying to curb these tendencies because I enjoy indulging in them. So…” They tapped their knuckles on the table and shrugged. “That’s the situation. We’re square, for now. So you don’t need to be skulking around anymore. And… nevermind, I was going to say something mean.”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably. “About last night?”

“Yeah.”

“What, I’m not your type?”

Fletcher chuckled. “I was going to say when I want to take sexual advantage of you, I’ll let you know; you don’t have to initiate.”

“Right,” Tommy muttered, looking down again.

“I’m joking,” Fletcher said. “You can tell from my lighthearted expression.” They pointed at their face, purposely putting on a grumpy look. “Anyway, I’m planning my lesson for today. Might have to throw you around a bit for the demo. Nothing personal.”

“Oh,” Tommy said. “Okay, um…”

Fletcher was already up, carrying their coffee out of the room. “Get some breakfast,” they reminded him. “Three meals a day.”

~~~

hm i kind of thought our taglists would overlap more. good luck everyone.

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slighlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @aqua-blogging  @utopian819 @whumpinggoodtime @pretty-face-breaker

[maeremiga]

Twitter and it's problems

yesterday i got into a small confrontation on twitter with someone. it's a decent bout of drama im not happy to revist as much as i think adds important background to my post so i'm going to dive into it.

i should start by saying that we ended things on a better note! and they even offered to retweet a post to apologize. they ended up rting a standardbred rescue center for me which is great because the horses are being slaughtered after their use and need to be rescued and all the pigdogs who put them to death after use is just- pointless. you can kill a pig for its meat and i guess it's something this society needs to work on (meat is bad when it comes from animals that aren't wild and being overkilled its a tricky line but it's something that's not stopping anytime soon) but horses aren't even known for their meat. they just fucking kill the majestic things and leave them to rot like rusty tools

that's getting sidetracked (though i would petition anyone to follow https://twitter.com/SRF_SOSS if you're on twitter), so getting back into it i should talk a little more about the concentration. it was with a twitter user who i was talking with on discord the nights prior where they posted and retweeted an orbiter of sorts who wanted to shagg their fursona and in a post relating to that i said i didn't like seeing that, though also wanted to clarify i did not hate them for that. i took it on the nose instead of as a joke because im a weird sentimental thing that takes things to their literal limit

a seperate user below asked who i was and i responded i was another user on twitter (this was my first mistake in terms of replying as this is an incredibly douchey thing, i've come to realize). i checked their profile real quick to find out who THEY were and in that endeavor i realized they were smack tweeting someone silently. further context i was able to gauge that was me and i tried to play fiddle by deleting the tweets above because even if i wasn't able to understand the offense i made, i like to deter confrontation (more into that in a bit). they told me to fuck myself after blocking me in the midst of elaborating my point in a second post thereafter. naturally i went into a bit of a bitchy mood and smack talked them back and also on the same discord the original twitter user was on until they revealed that A: the user that blocked me was that twitter users mutual, paired with B: the whole thing was a joke in fun. they even decided to meddle in my behalf and communicate with them further.

apparently the twitter users friend thought i was some sort of orbiter myself, what twitter users call a reply guy. the gist is that they assumed me to be replying to simp for her. a creepy person, which is ironic considering that's what my message really was in the beginning (a call about not liking creepy people openly wanting to fuck sfw twitter users in public chat), and to had have it taken as that i consider just as stressful as the initial block. it was a misunderstanding and me and the former blocker are on amicable terms now, this is not a hate post for anything but twitter communication. A rant about the state of twitter and people in it will ensue

fuck twitter. fuck the whole annuals of social media where you can say one thing and have not only the wrong message taken but excplicity the one you were reacting to in the first place - this isn't anyones fault particularly, it's just pattern recognition gone array. you can muster any split sections of dogshit text on your page and have it taken in a bad way. even after we made up the stress that was developed in the moment hid itself in my body and made it manifest itself again while i was trying to sleep in an awful, grungy situation. i dont know if it's an autistic trait specifically, but it's never fun holding in this moment and the worry that it might happen again

because it will. it sometimes does and you can't help it. it's a landscape being built with shit bulldozers and piss cranes. it's centered around a culture of creepy weirdos who have you think on your feet and quickly deter any source of phrasing or odd behavior that MIGHT be from one of them because we made it justified to do this - this is needed conduct. the level of deranged follower worship, pedophiles, sleeper racists, abusers and transphobes are at a high ever since the Mule took over twitter and unshackled the bonds that kept users from becoming even worse psychomaniacs for 44 bil.

sooner or later you have to have this standard if you want to play the game that is social media ofc but twitter affluence after deciding to deliberately become worse and cradle a multiplad community of people it doesn't need (see above, pedos, racists etc.) is an aggressively unsettled prospect for anyone on the site who wants to interact normally. normally has been shred to pieces. normal is nothing in the lair of serpents and blood eyed apes. there will be a time someone dms another person saying they like someones style and it will undoubtably be seen as a calling card from a potential stalker and you won't even know where the line is.

with the essence of all the problems in the world im not upset someone had the wrong idea of me, but i am upset why they HAD to have had the wrong idea. it's not even particularly different to what i'd do on a hunch (and have!) for other posters on different threads with different situations. it's difficult to conserve yourself and work with first impressions because taking the wrong first impression and rolling with it doesn't pan out well in the worst scenarios if they're the weirdo creepo you think they might be and if they are why on gods green earth would you give that dipshit an inch to work with?

situations are in a low vacuum. we need to burn twitter to the ground and replace it with something or just replace the vacuum with smaller sized social media sites where the expectation of being seen and seeing others in a pre-negative light isn't the go to structure because hedonistic and hate scorned ants crawled up in the cracks of the pillar of its website and wont go. we need a better system man. fuck,

[nicksdeadwife]

im leaving tumblr for good! this month off has been amazing! goodbye!