#oh fuck I would have deleted my blog if I made that mistake here

[damnedrainbows]

our radioapple smut just got naughtical

[makeste]

update part two: THE SPOILERING

~*~THIS POST IS ENTIRELY ABOUT BNHA MANGA SPOILERS.~*~ IF YOU ARE NOT CAUGHT UP WITH THE CURRENT EVENTS OF THE BNHA MANGA, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS POST. I do have a separate "hey guys I'm back" update post here which is spoiler-free!

THIS POST, THOUGH, IS NOT SPOILER-FREE. IT IS THE OPPOSITE OF SPOILER-FREE. IT EXISTS SOLELY FOR THE PURPOSE OF DISCUSSING THE BIGGEST, MOST SPOILERLY SPOILERS EVER. IF THAT IS NOT YOUR DESIRE, PLEASE PROCEED AWAY FROM THIS POST WITH ALL HASTE.

I am, however, assuming that something like 90% of this blog's readership does, in fact, know exactly what this post is about, which is why we are going to TALK ABOUT IT right here and right now underneath this tidy read-more.

okay, so! gonna stick with the random imaginary Q&A format from my other post just to make things easier.

1. "wow makeste, way to randomly go on spoiler lockdown hiatus for NINE WHOLE MONTHS only to MAGNIFICENTLY DROP THE BALL by running smack dab into THE BIGGEST BNHA SPOILER OF ALL TIME."

I know right??

2. "so what do you have to say for yourself."

short version: I made the critical tactical error of existing as a human being in the general vicinity of the internet in early August 2022. very poor move on my part. rookie mistake.

long version: so there I was, minding my own business, watching the trailer for BnHA season 6, as one does. when out of nowhere, YouTube's algorithm decided to be all "OH? THIS PERSON LIKES MY HERO ACADEMIA? BOY DO I HAVE A RECOMMENDATION FOR THEM." next thing I know, I'm scrolling through my YT home page and ALL OF A SUDDEN THERE'S A DETAILED PICTURE OF MY SON'S MANGLED BLOODY CORPSE, RIGHT NEXT TO AN ALL-CAPS DESCRIPTION READING -- I SHIT YOU NOT -- "BAKUGOU REALLY JUST DIED!!! THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING!"

seriously though. that is word-for-word verbatim what it said. the internet literally got right up in my face and said "OHOHO!! LOOKS LIKE SOMEBODY FORGOT TO DELETE LITERALLY ONE SINGLE MHA-RELATED VIDEO FROM THEIR WATCH HISTORY! TIME TO DESTROY HALF A YEAR'S WORTH OF PAINSTAKINGLY DILIGENT SPOILER AVOIDANCE IN ONE EARTH-SHATTERING BLOW!" and just like that, my miraculous fate-tempting seven month spoiler-free streak came to an end. the sequel to blah blah SIXQUIRKS. something something BAKUGOU DIED. JUST THOUGHT WE'D SHARE THAT LITTLE UPDATE WITH YOU. HAVE A GOOD ONE, AND DRIVE SAFE!

so naturally my first reaction was basically just. looooooool :) :) :) what the fuck.

here I am. a working mom. who left her seventeen-year-old fictional son in the care of a 36-year-old Japanese man for the better part of a year because HE SAID he would take good care of him. Jump Festa 2022!! quote unquote!! "I’ve said this to Okamoto [Nobuhiko]-kun in LINE, but Katsuki will be having his greatest scene in the manga in future developments. I hope people who like Katsuki and hate Katsuki will look forward to it." bruh. we have the receipts right here! "greatest scene," he said! oh, goody, I said! something to look forward to when I finally have the time to catch up! "yes," Horikoshi smiles evilly. "something to look forward to, indeed." this fucking guy. can you even believe.

and just to be clear, when I say that I was otherwise 100% not-spoiled up until this point, I mean it. one hundred percent. I had absolutely ZERO knowledge of anything past chapter 339. the last I saw of Bakugou, he was hanging out with the rest his class showing off his cool new moves to Deku and being blindsided by Aoyama's betrayal and stuff. then bam. seven months later, fate mails me a postcard of him lying on the ground with a bloody hole in his chest. like WOW, OKAY. ZERO CHILL. OF COURSE THIS WOULD HAPPEN THE ONE TIME I DECIDE TO GO ON HIATUS FOR TWO HUNDRED DAYS, SMDH.

anyway so that's my story.

3. "so exactly how spoiled are you?"

lol I'm not even sure. I guess my best answer would be, "SOMEWHAT?"

or, if you don't mind reading more words, I can tell you exactly how spoiled I am by summarizing the Things That I Do Know in a bullet list.

THINGS THAT I KNOW

all of this apparently takes place between chapters 359 and 362, with 362 being the big "oh he DEAD dead" chapter. I think. based on all the fics that have since cropped up on AO3 with ominous chapter 362 spoiler tags.

I am pretty sure Bakugou was fighting either Tomura or AFO when it happened.

I have this vague idea that somehow his heart exploded or something?? like I don't really know the details, but that's what I've been able to glean.

apparently Jeanist and Edgeshot were involved in some sort of effort to save him?? but apparently that didn't work out too well I guess. OR DID IT? I actually do not know.

I have the vague impression Edgeshot may have also died, somehow, as a result of those heroic efforts. OR DID HE? again, I actually do not know at all. this is basically the knowledge equivalent of me overhearing half of a phone conversation between two people who were trying to recollect half of a phone conversation that they in turn overheard, several months earlier.

lastly, I know that Bakugou was apparently carrying around his All Might trading card from waaaay back in his chapter 118 flashbacks, in his pocket or something. because he's a giant fanboy nerd. who wanted All Might to sign it. but was too shy to ask I guess. "WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THIS SENSITIVE SIDE OF HIM COMING?? BAKUGOU CARES ABOUT THINGS??? HE REALLY DID LOOK UP TO ALL MIGHT JUST AS MUCH AS DEKU THE ENTIRE TIME??? WHAT A DEVASTATING REVEAL?!?" is how we were supposed to react to this, I'm guessing, lol. but I'll have you know that SOME of us have already written approximately 1200 essays on how much of a secretly sensitive All Might weeb Bakugou is, and so WERE ACTUALLY NOT SURPRISED AT ALL! yeah that's right! TAKE THAT HORIKOSHI. TRYING TO CATCH ME OFF GUARD AND MAKE ME CRY. WELL YOU WASTED YOUR GODDAMN TIME, because I would have cried anyway! and I did cry! and I will cry again!

anyway so yeah. and I think the card got blown up and/or otherwise destroyed somehow, just to add insult to injury. which, don't tell anyone, but between you and me, I'm not sure what he expected. "let me just take my precious limited edition All Might trading card, my most prized possession, along with me into the intense final battle with the final villain. for good luck or whatever. there's no way this could possibly end badly." did he even bother to put it in a zipper pocket. wtf were you thinking Katsuki. again I do not actually have the slightest idea since I have not actually read this chapter lol.

anyway! so that's everything I know! and let me just add to that a quick summary of things which I in turn do NOT know, the short version of which is: Literally Everything Other Than What I Just Typed Above. including but not limited to:

whether Bakugou actually was fighting Tomura, or AFO, or both. ??

who was fighting with him (except that for some reason or another Deku wasn't there, because I guess he fucked off to go do something else?? you and I fell into the exact same trap there, Deku. "surely Kacchan will be fine and dandy for the next five minutes or hours or days or however long while I go take care of this Other Important Business." yeah, you would think so, wouldn't you? BUT WE LEARNED OUR LESSON, DIDN'T WE.)

what Deku’s reaction was (but I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say: PISSED)

literally anything else about the context of this fight, including where, when, and why it took place.

literally everything else that has happened in the manga since chapter 339. for real you guys. I just have to stress again how utterly out of the blue this was for me. to read this spoiler completely without context. WHAT HAVE THESE CHILDREN BEEN DOING FOR THE PAST NINE MONTHS. I'm terrified to learn the answers lol.

anyways but moving on now to the most important section of this post, starting with the one question which I think is by far the most pressing and important, and which I can thankfully answer with a single sentence.

4. "so... do you think he actually is dead?"

no lol.

but since you insist, here is my list of Reasons Why I Don't Think Bakugou Is Actually Dead, based on my nonexistent knowledge of the events of the past 40 chapters, and the actual context and details of his death. and I guarantee there is not a single point here which has not already been discussed to death on thousands of other blogs, but dammit I've been stuck without an outlet for all these thoughts since August, so the hell with it:

so for starters, in my experience, characters whose older selves narrate the story From The Future ("in that moment, there were no thoughts in my head... my body just moved on its own") tend to be pretty immune from dying, overall. just throwing that out there.

from day one, the series has made it very clear that this is the story of how Izuku becomes "the greatest hero" (more recently retconned/updated to become a pluralized "this is the story of how we ALL became the greatest heroes").

also from day one, Katsuki's narrative arc has been set up as a (first contrasting, and then later evolving to be more complementary) parallel to Izuku's, down to them having the same goal.

as the series has progressed, that concept of "becoming the greatest hero" has been further defined as "becoming a hero who always wins no matter what, and always saves everyone no matter what."

Katsuki in particular has expanded on this idea to emphasize that the greatest heroes are the ones who save EVERYONE, no matter what. "I made a pledge! I will achieve absolute victory, every time! we're taking this 4-0, no casualties! the strong don't settle for anything less!" and more recently, "because to live up to those ideals and surpass All Might... we gotta save you, the civilians at U.A., and the people on the streets. because saving people is how we win."

therefore, any victory in which either Katsuki or Izuku dies in order to defeat AFO is not a perfect victory, and will not result in them becoming the greatest heroes.

this is also a flagship Shounen Jump manga and the spiritual successor to the Big Three, meaning this would basically be the equivalent of killing off Sasuke or Zoro or Rukia. a.k.a. not gonna happen ever lol.

on top of that, it's also Horikoshi's tribute to Western comics, particularly those produced by Marvel, a.k.a. the guys who practically invented the No One Ever Stays Dead trope.

and last (actually not last but this really is getting too long) but not least, the number one reason why Katsuki cannot and will not actually die: because AFO does not get to win. seriously. he just doesn't. he got to kill All Might's important person and be all smug and cruel about it. he killed Nana's family and was all smug and cruel about it. he's tormented generations of heroes by deliberately targeting the people they love most. and so even without me knowing the actual context or circumstances of Katsuki's supposed "death", I have no doubt that's why it happened, because that's what AFO does. and that's who Deku loves. and so of course AFO would try it, yet again. that's his fucking modus operandi

but, because he is the final villain, we know he is going to lose in the end. and so this, imo, is the biggest and simplest reason why Katsuki isn't dead: because if he is actually dead, then AFO wins. even if he himself dies in the end. he gets to go down knowing that he took a part of the hero with him. he gets to hold on to that one last triumph. even though he loses, he keeps the hero from winning and saving, and he gets to savor that.

so, since we know that he's NOT going to win, because this is a "good guys win" type of story and not an "evil prevails, sorry, it's called REAL LIFE, bitches, enjoy your tears" type of story, that means that Katsuki is not actually dead. or will not stay dead. either way. period.

anyway so yeah! that's basically the gist, though by no means are these all of my comprehensive thoughts, and I can safely promise you many more rants to come, especially as I prepare to take on the challenge of reading through 39 new BnHA chapters with the foreknowledge of my son's untimely not-death looming in the back of my mind the whole time! looking forward to that! both ironically and unironically! should be interesting to say the least lol.

so on that note, one final q&a before we conclude:

5. "is it cool to discuss other manga spoilers with you?"

I would prefer not to, mainly in the hopes of trying to preserve as much of the "pure" unspoiled liveblog experience as possible, both for myself and for anyone else who cares to actually read said liveblogs. I do already feel bad for depriving people of the experience of watching me naively frolic my way through the upcoming arc(s) all BLISSFULLY UNAWARES lol. instead you'll have to settle for watching me timidly cry my way through while yelling at every single character who blindly tempts fate with their stupid foreshadowing comments. and don't even try to tell me there won't be foreshadowing comments. I know what type of story I'm reading. and more importantly, I know exactly the type of person who's writing it. ~*~gReAtEsT sCeNe~*~. you son of a bitch. THIS ISN'T OVER, HORIKOSHI.

anyway, so basically I would prefer to be as spoiler-free as possible, same as always. but I also no longer have the time or frankly the will to police every potential spoiler out there, so at the end of the day I'm pretty much just going to leave it up to you guys! also because I figure that at this point, WHAT'S THE WORST THAT CAN HAPPEN lol. (but for real there's probably a ton of important stuff that could easily be ruined still, so yeah if you don't mind let's just try to steer clear of all that lol.)

[3rddimension]

Hey, sorry to hear about you having to deal with all this trolling shit, especially being referred to as some sort of "vigilante". What does that even mean? Do people think you're Batman, wait... ARE YOU?

Say nothing if you are, but if you were, that is exactly what you would do🤔

Back to the topic at hand, I don't get how harrassment is the means of handling things. It is as if you get mad at somebody on the street and just punch them in the face, all because they looked at you funny, that is over the line.

Whomever is trolling is just being petulant and needs to delete their tumblr app or touch grass ya know? Like, I remeber having a discussion with you, where we talked about the CM reddit and how toxic it was. We talked about possibly cleaning up that mess, but ultimately decided against it, realizing it was a lost cause.

Sure, maybe you made a mistake here or there in the beginning with the term "proof", but guess what? You learned from it! You could've just, said fuck it, and told people if they didn't like it, leave, but you didn't let this turn in the discord, and that deserves high praise in my book👏

What I'm trying to say is, don't doubt how happy you've made shippers with your blog. A couple of trolls wanna try and ruin it all because their salty? Let them try, you've seen how supportive this community is, everybody here just wants to hang out and talk Shourtney, what more could people want?

Oh yeah I remembered all the conversation about CM reddit! I just wanted to make it clear for newer anon and other as well. The transparency is what lacked with all the previous stuff like Discord tbh.

[scoobydoodean]

About Me Being a Jackass

So. As some of you saw, the other day I fucked up. I am not going to apologize for the fact that something offended me or for my opinion, but I am sorry for how I addressed it. Regardless of how much or little offense what someone else said made me feel, I am the bigger asshole at the end of the day, because I perpetuated a message that screenshotting people’s tags to shit on them behind their back is okay.

@ original person involved: I haven't deleted my posts, because the nature of Tumblr is that other copies of what happened remain on various blogs regardless, and I didn’t want you to feel like I was trying to hide what was said at least until I had made this post establishing that I am the asshole. However, I will go back and hide everything from being visible to randoms opening the notes to minimize the potential of you receiving grief from anyone, and if you would like me to, I will also DM this post to those who reblogged the original incident and ask them to delete their copies of it from their blogs. I can’t promise compliance, but I figure if I ask nicely as the OP, I might have decent luck.

Back to the general audience: I have a few lessons for myself here, and I hope you read them and consider learning from my mistakes too (if you aren't already too smart to be like my dumbass).

Never respond to something that annoyed, offended, irritated, or grossed you out at 3AM. This is, universally, a bad idea. This is something I actually know already, from my many years on the internet, so there isn't an excuse. I have had, "Oh thank god" moments before when waking up to look at things I decided the night before, to not put out into the world and to sit on instead to see how I felt about them the next morning. Rarely have I ever woken up no longer feeling negatively about what someone else said, but I at least wake up with a clearer head on the appropriate response to it. So don't do it. Just shut the fuck up and go to bed. You will save yourself from a lot of stupid decisions.

Never assume that using tags to comment on something means it won't get screenshotted and re-tagged with more note-passing-in-class-style commentary. The person who tagged my post didn't expect anyone to respond. They likely expected at most for their friends to maybe like it and maybe a reblog with '#prev'. I responded to the tags they didn't expect me to comment on while also tagging my addition for something and expecting it to stay on my blog and for nobody to reblog the tags I had added, which was fucking dumb considering the thing I literally just did is make somebody else's tags show hole.

Never assume that reposting something to a sideblog where you don't have very many followers is sufficiently private. It is still an online space. It is not private. If you MUST be upset and vent IMMEDIATELY because you CANNOT help yourself, send it in a DM to your friend instead.

Never assume that leaving off someone's username from their tags when you screenshot them is sufficient to protect that person's identity. Especially not when you are stupid and screenshot their tags on the very post where they tagged what they tagged. There is no excuse for me, because just the other day, I saw someone else post a screenshot of tags on one of their posts (in a separate post, to disagree with them) and almost reblogged it, but then realized that would spread it further around the circle and would feel like bullying to me because it was all being said behind their back. Then my dumbass went and did something that fostered an even more potentially harmful environment for another person... by doing the same thing on the actual post. To my knowledge, I don't believe anyone retaliated directly against the person in question through their mailbox or DMs (and if anyone did, I will lob a spear into your computer over wifi), but I created a potential that was very real for that to happen, and the actual outcome, where people were just shitting on them in my notes, was already bad enough. Just don't screenshot tags you don't like to talk about them, actually. Go to bed. Later on, maybe write your own post in your own words about the idea you saw that you didn't like (not the person who said the idea—the idea. The person is just a person). You'll have a clearer head then anyway and you'll be a lot more eloquent and level-headed.

If the joke you are telling by being snarky about someone's tags you screenshotted is "Haha now we are all mischaracterizing each other", don't go back 5 minutes later and tag what they said for biphobia. If you keep looking at what they said and find it offends you more and more because that's genuinely what you see in it regardless of what was intended, just delete your reblog. It isn’t like you’re having a fun time like you were 5 minutes ago. You are promoting something that makes you feel bad and you have figured out at least one reason why. Also, it will turn into accusations of someone being an evil irredeemable villain when other people pass it around to shit on the person for what they said and what you said about what they said and add more transgressions they committed to the list (see Part 2). If you believe something is intentionally and maliciously offensive (that wasn't the case here FYI) you still shouldn't put it on the dash imo because you'll be giving it a platform. You should block the person if you believe they're actually a bigoted asshole.

Remember that this is all media.

When an offended party's friend DMs you, and in the process of trying to defend their friend while extending an olive branch, actually hands you an olive branch full of spiders (i.e., saying more things that make you go 🙈) just don't respond and move on with your life. It isn't worth it. Tangentially: on the initial (before shit hit the fan) subject and everything you two have left me with as responses from the thread of the initial subject... I won't respond any further about our differing analysis, because I can tell you for a fact it won't be productive. Based on what has been said so far, and how each successive argument that has been brought up included more things that I vehemently disagree with in terms of how it frames a person's lived experiences and issues and how they define a person's value... we simply shouldn't continue talking about it. That doesn't mean I think you're bad people, but it does mean the conversation will only come with more bad vibes for all of us and more hurt feelings. Once again: sorry for being a flaming jackass.

[circular-bircular]

Actually, going to reblog this again with some thoughts:

(Popping back up after getting past the third point, wanted to add: I am in no ways trying to suggest that all CDD systems are anti-endo -- just that there's a huge problem with anti-endos flooding CDD tags, and how that makes it feel as if CDD spaces are unsafe due to anti-endos).

Back when I first joined the system tumblr community, I was quickly driven into pro-endo spaces. There were a lot of reasons for that, but here's just some in particular off the top of my head:

One: I didn't remember my trauma, and it seemed like remembering my trauma was a requirement to be part of CDD spaces.

Every single post, every single user, every single community that was dedicated to DID... was constantly filled with venting about traumatic experiences. The amount of people trauma dumping constantly in the tags was heinous. It's... somewhat improved, now, but the tags were ridiculously bad. (There was also the issue of tag invasion happening frequently, but that's a discussion for another time perhaps). Needless to say, the constant message in CDD spaces was trauma, trauma, trauma -- and, as someone who couldn't recall it at that time, I felt I didn't belong.

This is, frankly, absolutely fucking ridiculous, given the fact that the majority of DID systems, particularly at system discovery, don't really know they have trauma. That's a staple of the disorder. There's this horrendous effect of being chronically online where people just always talk about the worst aspects of their trauma or alters, rather than discussing... literally anything else about the disorder (amnesia, derealization, depersonalization, or yknow, any of the positives?)

Two: Fakeclaiming and sharing explicit, traumatizing details about the disorder, due to not knowing my shit.

I was a 19-21 year old, trying to survive this disorder, and people fucking attacked me for it. I've talked extensively about how pro-endos hurt me on here, but anti-endos are certainly not innocent either. I was told graphic, traumatizing things by anti-endos that made me scared to even attempt getting a therapist, due to the fact that I was so young and inexperienced.

Most of this was because I was "spreading misinformation."

I don't know about you all, but... Remarkably, telling someone who's spreading misinformation that if they really had the disorder they said they did, they would be [INSERT GRAPHIC ASSAULT AND VIOLENCE HERE]... really doesn't fucking help them learn the truth. It just makes them angry (or, in my case, so terrified I nearly deleted all my accounts).

Look. People are going to make mistakes. Coming at them with graphic, horrific fakeclaiming and anti-psych fearmongering for making those mistakes is not going to help things. And unfortunately, this happens so often in syscourse, and was happening far more in anti-endo spaces when I first joined systumblr.*

I particularly am really fucked up still by one occurance with this (Flowers, shout out to you for letting me open up about it in DMs) where someone came at me for saying DID and MPD were different diagnosis. I didn't understand at the time the disconnect in language (in that I was saying "the diagnostic criteria aren't the same" and they were saying "the diagnosis was renamed to DID from MPD"). They're one of the ones who told me I would be sexually assaulted if I really had DID, and that a [whatever age I was at the time] year old shouldn't be trying to share information about a disorder anyways.

I had researched DID as extensively as I could in my abusive situation. I didn't have all the information. They could have approached me with kindness, understanding, "oh honey but no" mentality. Instead, I was fucking crucified for it! I deleted the posts, issued a huge apology for ever trying to educate others on DID, and backed off entirely for a little bit.

Glad I got over that.**

Three: Barring people who aren't [XYZ] from positivity.

I've also been vocal on my blogs about how radical inclusion really fucking hurt me, because the fact was, radically inclusive spaces were not inclusive of everyone, and lied about their unconditionality -- something which someone with disorganized attachments who was desperately clinging to any source of positivity available really did not need.

But let's turn around and look at why I ended up in those spaces in the first place.

Hello, negative nancies that are anti-endos. Every single positivity post had bright red "DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU AGREE WITH ENDOS" stamps. Every single positivity post had "THIS IS FOR DID SYSTEMS ONLY," which definitely did not help me when I was still uncertain what the other options even were. Every single positivity post had things I couldn't relate to, given my (not unique in the slightest, but somehow considered by the community to be) unusual traumas.

And that's if there was positivity at all.

So much of the tags was just hating endogenic systems and crying out about wanting a safe space. But the posts that weren't that? I mean... Y'all can check out MotCR still, the old posts I made and reblogged were there. I focused primarily on reblogging art, because weeding through the hell that was tumblr, that's really all I could find that wasn't negativity toward either the disorder or towards endogenic systems.

Meanwhile... Pro-endos offered me respect. They told me everyone was welcomed, and for someone who was going through massive amounts of realizations and changes, that was desperately needed, so much so that I fell into horrific crowds because of it. It's something I still struggle with today. I was shunted and, yes, as much as I hate this term, gatekept from the resources I desperately needed, because y'all can't be positive at all.

Not to mention, I liked being a system. I liked not being alone. I liked being able to retreat into my head and take a break, that I could survive like that, in a way I didn't know anyone else could to. Then I found a community of individuals who could do that too. Who would I side with -- the part of that community that constantly vented about how fucking awful it was to be able to do those things, or the part that constantly talked about how great it was?

For fucks sakes, y'all.*

That's just three examples from my experiences. There's countless more I've heard, but those are the big ones.

And, unsurprisingly, so many of these new anti-endos -- many of whom are minors, or fresh off the boat into Adulthood -- don't care about welcoming CDDs. They don't care about trying to correct misinformation, and instead, how to avoid it -- unwittingly spreading misinformation themselves. They aren't ready to accept nuance or systemhood that doesn't look like theirs, so they try to create spaces where they don't have to accept it. In fact, the majority of posts I see from anti-endos are about how they "don't have to believe someone else's beliefs." They're not even willing to begin to think that maybe, just maybe, they might be incorrect about someone else's lived experiences.

And that's really sad.

I don't know about anyone else... But I definitely would avoid the CDD community if it looked like that.

Notes:

*I am not saying I am immune to going off on people for making mistakes that ought to be understandable; it's easy to forget that people aren't always on the same page as everyone else in syscourse, especially when you've suffered from the brain rot for nearly a decade. That doesn't excuse the behavior though. We should all work to be a little more understanding of knowledge gaps, particularly when so much of this falls under nebulous concepts or hyper-specific medical jargon.

**I also disagree with the idea that the younger generation shouldn't be allowed to educate the older generation. I find myself constantly reeling at how quickly things change and move, and how much those younger than me educate me on new things. Moreover, pushing people away from knowledge is never a good thing; telling me that I shouldn't educate others instead of... y'know... actually correcting the misinformation... Didn't actually help anyone in the end. It just helped you get off on your own anger. (Yes, I am still a little bitch about how they treated me, and I think that's valid).

***I'm also not saying that DID is fun and games and all hunky dory. I was just barred from so many spaces to talk about the bad things due to also being able to acknowledge the good. "This disorder isn't happy or enjoyable, DNI if you think having alters is fun" has been around since long before 2016 when I discovered my systemhood, and unfortunately, I think it'll be around for far longer. Because of that mentality and those DNIs, I was shunted into places where I couldn't vent about my systemhood, or else I was "medicalizing myself" or "repeating sysmedical rhetoric."

Hot Take

Maybe instead of asking why or how some trauma-based systems turn to pro/endo spaces and mistakenly believe themselves to be endogenic, we should be asking why they felt invalidated about their trauma and experiences in CDD spaces

[shiny-jr]

Oh man, just got caught up on all the Vil stuff of the last few days, and we simps be eating good!

So here’s my contribution to the ever-growing shrine: pre-confession darling always being polite to Vil, but a little distant, a little too star-struck to relax around him. Vil starts to wonder if he’s doing something wrong, if he isn’t good enough…

But THEN *dramatic music* darling’s bag falls over somehow, and some little Vil fan item falls out. Nothing crazy, maybe a button with his face on it, or a perfume model he advertised for that has his picture on the bottle. Something unmistakably fangirl-ish.

Darling only notices when Ace or Deuce points it out, then gets utterly mortified when she sees that Vil had also noticed. Stuffs it back in, tries to laugh it off, but can’t get away from the teasing that yeah, even though they’re still new to this world, they couldn’t resist spending some hard earned thaumarks, and that they’ve grown to admire Vil after the SDC.

Can you imagine? I’m sure Vil would be very nice and not too teasing in the moment, but the second he’s alone? Cue all the embarrassing squealing and rolling on the bed he’d never let anyone see. And the SMUGNESS!! Oh, he’ll be on cloud nine for the next few days, randomly smiling and causing heart attacks in the student population.

Even better, now knowing Darling is a fan, it’s SO much easier to get closer, to offer exclusive tickets to his next movie, to invite darling along on his next photo shoot. And any time darling gets embarrassed and tries to refuse, he can just catch their chin in his hand, and force eye contact as he pouts and reminds them that they’re his fan…

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: Vil being a fucking simp for a fan MC.

Note: Y'all Vil simps have taken over this blog now. ARE YOU HAPPY? Had to write a bit for this because I saw it so vividly in my head. Normally I like to imagine MC kinda oblivious to trends and celebrities of Twisted Wonderland so they casually approach the elegant star Vil like "wazzup" but your idea is pretty fun too. Had to bust out my Vil playlist to write this one. ADDED: I just finished it. Have not edited or checked for mistakes. But I feel like its mid? Like, it’s not bad but it’s not good either. But I didn’t want to keep it in the drafts after completing it and I didn’t just want to delete it either. So I’ll post anyways, even though I’m not happy with it. 

Normally the class consisted of the first years, you'd sit beside Ace and Deuce, usually with Grim seated in your lap. Sometimes Jack, Epel, and even Sebek would be in the same class. But this time you were alone, despite the class being busier than ever.

Ace, Deuce, and Grim were caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing, as per usual. And they were promptly sent to see the Headmaster. Surprisingly you weren't called up, probably because you had been in the bathroom when it went down so you were exempt from detention. Jack, Epel, and Sebek made it to class on time, but they had arrived when the only seats left were across the room. Leaving you seated between unfamiliar third-years because of the joint class today. Well, most of them were unfamiliar, not all of them. Seated directly on your left was Vil Schoenheit, third-year, dorm leader of Pomefiore, and celebrity.

Schoeneheit had greeted you amicably with a rather friendly smile and a how are you? To which you responded with your own nervous smile and a polite response. Truthfully, you believe he only sat beside you because it was one of the only seats left, but you'd like to believe it was because he saw you in a good light now. Were you friends? Probably not. Maybe simple acquaintances was a better term. 

If you were being honest, he still intimidated you. You could recall the looks of disdain he often gave you and your companions before the audition, then there was his strict nature and the fact that he literally cursed your friends with a cake you were five seconds from taking a bite of. Not to mention his overblot and how his unhinged form seemed to focus on you so intently... Yeah, talk about nightmare fuel. But, you decided to give him another chance at possibly being friends. You knew he was famous, but you didn’t know he was famous enough to draw crowds. Which sparked your curiosity and led you to looking him up. What you found were various films, shows, advertisements, and magazines. He was like the actor Emma Watson, singer Britney Spears, and influencer Kim Kardashian all rolled into one. You still can’t believe you had no idea who he was and you had offered him a bowl of cheap instant noodles when he and the others were staying at Ramshackle. Embarrassing... 

You sat rigidly as Vil checked his appearance in the small hand-held mirror, making sure his looks were up to his standards before class began. Uncomfortably you shifted, deciding to occupy yourself by removing your notebook and writing utensils from the bag you kept as a barrier between you and the super star. As you did so, you failed to notice a tiny object fall out of your bag, but he noticed out of the corner of his eye. Curiously he plucked it up between his gloved fingers, about to return it when he took a closer look. 

It was an enamel pin, shiny and sparkling. However, it resembled his face. Or, to be more accurate, one of the characters he played in a recent series. It caused him to freeze, processing what this meant before he moved to tap your shoulder and held out his open palm with the pin on it. “You dropped this.” 

Confused, you turned your head and raised your eyebrow. That’s when you saw it. Your pin in his hand, the pin that looked exactly like him. Mortified, you quickly snatched it, attempting to laugh it off, but heat only began to creep up your neck when you noticed his smug smile. 

Vil propped up his elbow on the table, holding up his head as he remarked slyly, “I didn’t think you were a fan.” 

“Ahaha, yeahhhh... Sorry, is that weird?” 

“Not at all. I’m a little flattered.” Those amethyst eyes of his were studying you so intensely, watching your every little reaction. “I’m simply surprised. Most people tend to not like that character I portrayed, since they’re a villain and all.” 

“What’s wrong with that? I think villains are better than good guys anyways. They always have a better fleshed out backstory or reason for what they do. They’re more relatable, you know? And you did a really good job and making the audience feel for the character! They became my favorite! And–– Ah...” Realizing what you were doing, you shut your mouth. “I mean, you probably get that stuff a lot, huh? I’ll stop now.” 

His eyes were sparkling, surprised as his listened. When you paused, he insisted, “No, no, continue! Any and all feedback is appreciated. Besides,” Vil took the pin from your hands, and he lifted his fingers up to the upper half of your uniform where he pinned the accessory on your clothing. Beaming pridefully at the sight of the accessory, with his face on it, on your uniform, he hummed, “You said, I was your favorite, didn’t you? We still have a few more minutes before class. You’ll indulge me with more conversation, won’t you~?” 

❂     ❂     ❂     ❂     ❂ 

Once alone, Schoenheit allowed his bag to slip off his shoulder. It was a long class, three hours to be exact. Three hours... with you. He released a shaky breath, clutching the spot over his heart that was still beating at a faster than average rate. He could hardly believe his luck. When he heard that today there was to be a joint class between first-years and third-years, he instantly began prepping. He put more effort into his makeup, making sure it was perfect down to the exact particle. He sprayed on his sweetest smelling perfume and picked his cleanest uniform. 

At first he was worried that perhaps he was doing something wrong. You always appeared so... timid whenever he appeared. You could be joking and chatting animatedly with those pesky friends of yours (which he held a raging jealously towards), but when he entered the room, you would go quiet and avoid his gaze. He questioned and scolded himself for everything he did. Why did he used to look at you like a stain? Why didn’t he realize you earlier? Were his efforts at redeeming himself in your eyes, not good enough? Was it something about the way he dressed? Or acted? Or spoke? All this paranoia seemingly evaporated when he striked up a conversation. For the first time in weeks, you talked to him! And it wasn’t just a little chat about homework, or responsibilities, or school rumors. You spoke to him, about him! He knew by the pin and how you spoke about the series, that you had seen him on the show. You had been thinking about him! It quelled all his worries, as just yesterday he feared that you may have secretly loathed him for what he’s done or tried to do. 

As the memory came back to him of what just occurred, Vil clutched himself and squealed. He was already on the bed, rolling around on the sheets and pillows, resisting the urge to simply jump on his mattress and leap with joy! He could vividly recall the way you allowed him to scoot closer to point out some important material in the textbook, as you whispered a witty remark to him which he very quietly chuckled to in order to avoid being caught by the professor, and you even gave him your number! Of course it was to exchange notes and tips, you had said. But he’d use it for so much more than that. 

This was good first step, wasn’t it? You had officially bypassed the acquaintance stage and were now well on your way to the friend stage. Then, more than that, by that was all in due time. For now... 

Vil stopped his squirming, again feeling his heart that was now beating rapidly. Do you know the things he would do just for your attention? Oh, you truly have no idea of the lengths he would do, just for you. Gingerly picking up his phone, he read over the newly registered number. Your number. Slowly opening up a chat, he was partially disappointed to see it was completely empty. You hadn’t sent a thing. But, if all went well, it’d be full and constantly busy by tomorrow evening. His fingers danced across the screen as he typed out his message, reviewing what he wrote over and over again for any errors, any grammar mistakes, or another way to better word what he wants to say. Finally, after a good five minutes of anxiously staring at his screen, he pressed the send button, and watched the text come up in the chat. 

V: [ It was nice to talk to you again. If you’re willing, we should meet again. I got word that Professor Trein plans to have another joint class promptly, and he’ll assign a project so that the first years and third years work together. Would you like to get ahead and research in the library soon? ] 

Then he waited. And waited. And waited some more. After ten minutes, he feared he wouldn’t get a response. Had you given him the wrong number accidentally or purposefully? Was he coming on too strong? What if–– 

Ding! 

Instantly the screen lit up, displaying a new unread message which he hurriedly read. 

Y: [ Vil, right? Thanks for the heads up! Sorry for the kinda late reply Grim took my phone to play games. Anyways, yeah, that sounds good. I can meet you as soon as classes are over tomorrow, if that’s a good time for you?? ] 

V: [ That sounds perfect. ]

You poor thing, you truly don’t have a clue about what you’re getting into, do you?

❂     ❂     ❂     ❂     ❂ 

Again, Vil was prepared. He dressed flawlessly and got to the library early in order to have all the books necessary and stacked up on the table. He greeted you with a friendly smile, and you immediately got to work together. The blonde sat across from you, watching as you sketched out a rough look for the presentation that you wanted to show him and ask for his opinion. As he waited, he ignored the open book in front of him and instead watched at the way you focused on the paper, your hand moving with the pencil to create lines and shapes on the sheet. It was incredible that even the simple little things about you could captivate him. 

After a moment of watching you with a gentle smile and great intrigue, he opened his mouth, “Do you have any plans for afterwards?” 

You paused, looking up in confusion, “H-Huh?” 

“Do you have any plans for afterwards?” He repeated. “I mean, after our study session together. Do you have anything planned for afterwards?” 

“Oooh.” You shrugged before getting back to the sketch, answering as you finished up the drawing. “I mean, I left Grim with the ghosts but he gets grumpy if he doesn’t get tucked in. The Headmaster said Grim wasn’t allowed out, except classes, for at least two day. But, I might go buy some instant foods from Sam’s shop. Then I’ll lead home.” 

“Instant foods...?” Vil murmured incredulously, his smile immediately dropping. All those times he’d spied on you as you ate lunch with your friends, he always thought it was strange that you never ate when he saw you. Despite your company and even Grim eating. But now this? Instant foods? Was it possible that you didn’t have enough money to eat lunch? He was mortified. Swiftly he grabbed your wrist and carefully dragged you out of the library, “Come. Now.” 

“Wh–– What?? Where are we going? What about the project!” 

“A simple project can wait. Our stuff will be where we left it.” He continued to escort you down the hallways, towards what you recognized was the path leading to the cafeteria. That’s when he spoke again, his tone oddly stern, much different from how softly he spoke just minutes before. “You haven’t been eating properly, have you?” 

Your gaze drifted downwards, gazing at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, in order to avoid his stare. “... Hot pockets are still food.” 

“I mean real food.” When there was a lack of response, Vil became angry. Not at you, but at who was responsible. “That wretched crow hasn’t given you a decent allowance, has he? Tsk. I’ll be having a chat with him, but for now...” He led you to the front of the cafeteria, where there was no line. Other few students present were chatting at tables, having a late dinners after their clubs or study sessions. Vil stood behind you with his arms crossed as he instructed, “Order. And I’ll be watching to be certain you have enough on your plate.” 

You were quiet, gazing at the pastries, plates, meats, salads, and other delectable dishes past the glass counters. The menu overhead appeared endless, with a huge variety of food and drinks and desserts. It made your stomach grumble. It was a horrible reminder that you had barely eaten that day. You only had a cheap bag of chips that morning. Ashamed, you avoided his gaze once again as you muttered, “Vil, I can’t afford any of this right now...” 

“I wasn’t asking if you could afford it. I was instructing you to choose what you wanted. I don’t want your money, you could just pay me back in another manner.” When one of the ghost chefs came over, Vil placed a hand over your shoulder and used his other hand to point at several dishes, “My companion here will have one of these, two of those, and five of that. Yes, that plate right there. Oh, and a smoothie as well. Thank you.” Once the ghost was gone, Vil gazed back down at you. You still couldn’t look him in the eye. Carefully he reached forward, gingerly lifting your head up by your chin so you were forced to look at his eyes. His eyes that were normally so cold and judgmental, gazed at you so fondly. “Why won’t you look at me? Aren’t were close?” He pouted to sell the act. “I’m not about to neglect my own darling fan and let them go hungry. That’d be far too cruel. To pay me back, you can accompany me on one of our days off. Say... to see a new movie in town? Well, do you agree? Or shall I order you more plates and see your time to pay me back grow longer~? Surely spending time with me can’t be that bad?”

[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 7: Somnophilia (+Double Penetration - 2 holes)

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Words: 2,397

Warnings: Somnophilia, double penetration, anal sex, sex toys (dildo + plug), dom!Roger, protected sex, light degradation (slut), edging

A/N: This was kind of inspired by a couple of different posts I saw on a (now deleted) porn blog. I’ve been wanting to do something with the concepts for a little while now and this seemed like the perfect opportunity!

I guess I was picturing 70s rog since its a flatmate/fwb type relationship but go nuts imagining whatever you want lmao

It hadn’t been Roger’s idea to set up a friends with bennefits type arrangement, but he’d liked the suggestion when you made it and before the end of the night was out you’d sealed the deal, so to speak. He’d been a touch tispy at the time, as had you, but when he woke up in your bed the next morning he hadn’t believed it to be a mistake, even if you were his flatmate. And so the arrangement (or as Roger dubbed it, The Fuckbuddy Pact) stuck. In an effort to make sure neither of you would feel weird about what happened and to avoid anything becoming too much like a relationship, Roger suggested that you should get all your kinks and weird fetishes out into the open straight away. 

“That way we’ll both know what we’re in for from the jump,” he said, looking at you from the opposite end of the couch, “None of that getting to know you shit, or taking our time. We’re both here for sex so let’s just figure out what sex we’ll both like and get straight into it, right?”  “Sounds excellent,” you’d said, cheersing his bottle of beer with your glass.   It was how he’d discovered your interest in somnophilia (a term he’d not heard before and had needed a thorough explanation of). But once he knew what it was, Roger had been keen to try it out with you. There were other things too but the somnophilia was the newest to him and, thus, the most exciting. Before the month was out you’d figured out a system to incorproate it into your sex safely. The main rule was that if either of you was asleep and naked, it was okay to initiate sex. Eventually there ended up being a few exceptions or addendums added to that rule – it was still okay if the sleeping party wore a top of some kind as long as they were pantsless, and once or twice lingerie had been deemed to not count as clothes, but only on special occasions when you’d prearranged it. It became a regular part of your sex lives, which was especially useful for Roger who often didn’t get home from playing gigs until the early hours of the morning. If you were in bed and undressed, he’d take the opportunity to blow off some of the adrenaline without having to use his hand which was underwhelming compared to your cunt. But, more often than not, you’d do what most sexual partners did and got it out of your systems before bed time.  

Roger already suspected that you were hoping for a quick tumble when he heard the knock on his door, but he had other things on his mind too as he told you to come in.  “Hey, Rog, you busy?”  “Uhhh yeah, sorry, running late for rehearsals but I can’t find my fucking drumsticks,” Roger said, moving things around his desk as he searched for the missing sticks.   “Oh, damn.”  “Let me guess,” he said, pausing in the hunt and turning to face you, “horny?”  “My friend recommended a porn thing and I kinda got worked up.” You shrugged, unembarrassed to admit what you wanted.  That self-confidence was enough to make Roger wish he could stay and give you what you wanted but he was already late and couldn’t afford to be later. Instead he laughed and turned back to double check his backpack, “I would but, I’m leaving as soon as I fin- Aha! Bloody things must have rolled off the bed. Sorry, Y/N.”  “Oh, no worries. I’ll take care of myself.”  He smiled at the thought, “Well I better go. See you tonight?”  “Yeah, see ya. Have fun.” 

It was later than he’d expected by the time Roger got home. Part of him (the part in his pants mostly) vaguely wondered if you’d still be up for something but the bits of him controlled by his brain thought it more likely that you’d have had a nice couple of orgasms on your own and called it a night. Still, he thought he might at least check in on you once he’d dropped his bag in his room. To his surprise though, his bed wasn’t empty like it should have been. He jumped when the light from the hall softly illuminated you, on your back and deep asleep, but his shock quickly turned to delight as he realised you were naked.   “You little minx,” he muttered under his breath, impressed by the invitation you were giving him. But as he walked closer he paused again, noticing something he hadn’t been able to see from the doorway. There, beside your hand, was your favourite glass dildo, as if you’d passed out after using it.  “Oh you are naughty,” Roger chuckled. He traced one hand down your body, between your breasts and over your stomach, and softly said your name, checking if you’d rouse. But you were deep asleep and not likely to wake up any time soon. A plan for what to do with you forming, Roger stepped away from you for a moment to strip down to his briefs. His cock was already beginning to stir at the sight of you. He reached out to touch you again, less cautiously this time, palming your breasts before dipping his hand lower and lower, down to your cunt, pleased to find you still wet from whatever you’d been doing before you fell asleep.  You let out a soft hum as he explored you, thumb teasing over your clit as he wet his fingers between your folds.   Roger paused at the sound, not ready for you to wake up yet, but once it was clear you were still asleep he sank two fingers into you. Slowly they penetrated your heat, pausing to make sure the sensation hadn’t roused you at all. But you slept on. Carefully Roger partially withdrew his fingers before sinking them in again, gradually working up to a consistent thrust that had your unconscious body sighing and spreading your legs wider.   “Good girl,” he whispered, watching you carefully. The hall light was still on but his door wasn’t open fully so the darkness was only dimmed slightly. He twisted his fingers inside you, easily finding the spots that usually made you scream his name but which now just made your eyebrows knit together. By this point in your relationships Roger was quite confident that he could understand your body. He’d made you cum enough times, awake and asleep, to know what you liked and just how much you liked it. And he knew what it looked like when you were close to orgasm. Which is how he knew to stop, to still his fingers and wait for you to calm down.  

There was no real reason to edge you. If anything it just made it more likely you’d wake before he’d got his dick wet. But he had fun with it. Watching the way you’d shift, your chest rising and falling more rapidly, your lips parted as whimpers fell from them, your hips automatically rolling to meet his hand. And then he’d stop again. It made him chuckle quietly to himself. Knowing he could control your body so easily was thrilling. It made him want to do it more. So as soon as your face had relaxed again, your limbs loose and limp, he’d settle into the rhythm once more, curious how much you’d take before you woke up and begged him to finish you off. It was tempting to just keep going. He pictured you waking with a moan, your first words a plea for release or better yet for his cock so he could fuck you properly. Roger groaned. In the time he’d taken to edge you a handful of times his dick had well and truly stiffened and, as much as he enjoyed toying with you, what he really wanted was to cum in you so when you woke you’d know you’d been used. With that thought in mind he withdrew his fingers fully, taking a second to suck them clean and enjoy your taste. Having you on his tongue just made him want to fuck you more so he carefully knelt between your legs, shifting one to give himself a better angle. He was moments from finally taking what he so wanted to take from you, when something caught his eye.  

It didn’t glint as much as it did in the day but he could see it’s outline all the same. And when he double checked that he wasn’t imaging it, pressing his thumb against the hard end of it, you groaned.   “A dildo and a butt plug?” He asked you, knowing you wouldn’t respond, “Is that a surprise for me? Or is it just because nothing satisfies you like I do?” Roger’s hand slipped down to his underwear, pushing his briefs down enough that he could get his cock out. He hissed as he spread his precum along his length, contemplating how he should use you. “Could fuck your cunt now and hope you stay asleep long enough for me to get back there. Or maybe I should just go all in, have your arse straight away. That’ll mean wearing a condom though. Or would it?” he shook his head, now was not the time to try anal raw for the first time, “No, condom definitely.” He was still trying to decide what to do when you shifted in your sleep, rolling onto your side. The new position you lay in made it much easier to reach your arsehole.  “That decides it then,” Roger said to himself, shedding his underwear and opening his bedside draw for his lube.  

Carefully, he settled himself behind you and slowly began to remove your plug. It took a few stops and starts, pulling out and sinking in, almost fucking you with it, as you whimpered in your sleep but you seemed to press yourself back towards him as if trying to encourage him.   “Just can’t get enough of me, can you?” he chuckled as he set the plug aside and spread the lube around your hole. He rolled the condom down his shaft and spread the lube along it too, humming at the slick friction of his hand, knowing he was about to feel something a hundred thousand times better. And then he lined himself up, pushing the head of his cock into the ring of muscles you’d so generously stretched out with your plug. He went slowly there too, partially so you’d sleep on and partially so he wouldn’t cum embarrassingly fast.   When he finally began to fuck you, you moaned into your pillow, able to feel it in your sleep.   Roger bit his lip to keep his own moan from getting too loud.  You moved in your sleep again, your legs opening more as you half rolled onto your front. It let Roger fuck you deeper and gave him better access to your pussy too.  “You’re a bit of a whore when you’re alseep,” he said softly, reaching for the dildo. You were still wet enough that it sank into you easily, like it remembered where it had been earlier and fit into your cunt perfectly. The way you lay meant he didn’t have what he’d call easy access to you but it was enough that he could thrust the dildo somewhat rhythmically. He faltered here and there as the feeling of fucking you distracted him but he didn’t feel too bad about the slips, knowing it was keeping you from reaching your release. Your sleepy sighs and moans got louder as he filled both your holes which just made him fuck you harder, enjoying the sounds you were making and wanting to hear more.  

You woke with a broken moan in your throat, jerking under Roger’s hands but he shushed you, his palms warm against your skin and his voice familiar and reassuring.   “Stay right there, baby. Being such a good set of holes for me to enjoy.”  You couldn’t do much more than moan again, dazed from the sudden way you’d been pulled back to consciousness and realising what you’d felt in your dreams had been very real indeed.   “This was what you wanted wasn’t it? When you fell asleep in my bed.”  You nodded, the sound of the fabric of the pillowcase loud against your ear.  “Uh uh, words Love. If you’re going to be a slut the least you can do is admit it.”  “Yes, Rog. Want-wanted this.”  “Good girl. And how do you feel now?”  “Oh god, close. So close.”  Roger slowed the pace of the dildo, putting more effort into thrusting into you, his hips slapping loudly against your skin.   You keened at the loss of friction.  “Slut-s don’t com-complain.” Roger grunted as he used you, “They t-ake what they’re giv-en.”  You whined but that just made Roger laugh, louder now you were awake but broken by groans and moans of his own.   It didn’t take much more for him to cum, stuttering out, “Fu-ck Y-Y/N,” as he did.  

Roger was panting as he eased himself out of your arsehole, replacing his cock with the plug and giving your hip a light tap of thanks. The dildo was still inside you, but he’d not been moving it at all as he reached his climax so it wasn’t much help.   “Did you cum?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as he flopped onto the mattress beside you.  You shook your head and sighed, “And after I waited here all night to surprise you too. Thought you’d be home sooner.”  “Is that why you had the toys? You got bored waiting for me?”  “No, I was expecting you to come home while I was using them. Only then I came and fell asleep.”  "Of course,” Roger laughed, “you still got your shag though, don’t know why you’re complaining.”  “I’m really fucking horny still, that’s bloody why. What are you smirking about?”  “Nothing. Just nice to know edging you in your sleep works just as well as when you’re awake.”  “Prick!” you squealed though unable to contain your smile at the idea.  “Don’t worry. Give me a few minutes to clean up and get my stamina back and then I’ll make you cum as many times as you want.” 

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

[therealvinelle]

I've always wondered this, but what do you think the Cullen's political viewpoints would be, given their individual backgrounds? if vampires don't change after they turn, then surely they would all be extremely racist (especially Jasper). would this not come up at some point? they aren't like the Volturi because the Volturi are too old to care, but the Cullens are young enough that they have been brought up with opinions on stuff like sexism, racism, homophobia and the like.

Oh fuck.

You get an early answer because otherwise I'll just chicken out and delete this one, pretend I never saw it.

UMMM.

Since I'm guessing you meant American political viewpoints, we need a disclaimer. I am not American, and not too knowledgeable about your politics. Not just in the sense that I don't follow the day-to-day drama, but as I am not an American citizen there are several things I don't know, can't know because I've never lived in your country and therefore can't know what the effects of living in a country ruled by American policies is like. What I do know is based off of the news in the foreign section, social media (by which I mean tumblr posts), and Trevor Noah's Daily Show.

I am an outsider looking in.

Which is really rather appropriate, since the Cullens are too.

The Cullens go to high school and college, Carlisle works, they pay taxes, they own real estate, and submerge themselves in American culture. Esme, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Bella are young enough that this is in many ways their world, and apart from timeouts they've more or less spent their entire lives, human and vampire, integrated into American society.

Not fully integrated, mind you, they do what they need to to fit in and get to school or, in Carlisle’s case, to work. They go no further. No extra-curriculars for the kids, no book clubs for Esme, no game nights for Carlisle. They walk parallel to humans, not among us.

In addition to this they're obscenely rich, which puts them another thousand miles from the experiences of your average American. They won't deal with the health system, which means healthcare is a non-issue, they're not going to need welfare or other social programs, unemployment is another non-issue. Name your issue, and the Cullens don't have personal stake in it. Even the climate crisis won't be a problem for them the way it will for us.

What I'm trying to say is, American political issues are a concept to them, not a lived reality. Just like they are for me. So hey, you made a great choice of blog to ask.

I'll also add here that you say the Volturi are too old to care, and I agree- from an ancient's point of view, racism is a matter of "which ethnicity are we hating today?", and it all looks rather arbitrary after a while. Same with every other issue - after a while it all just blends together into "what are the humans fighting over today? Which Christian denomination is the correct one? Huh. Good for them, I guess."

I can't put it any better than this post did, really. The Volturi are real people, humans are nerds and tumblr having Loki discourse. Aro thinks it's delightful and knows entirely too much about Watergate (and let's be real, Loki discourse as well), but the point I wanted to get at is that politics really don't matter to vampires.

And I don't think they matter to the Cullens either.

So, moving on to the next point while regretting I didn't put headlines in this post, I'll just state that I don't think vampires' minds are frozen. Their brains are unable to develop further, and they can never forget anything, but... well, this isn't the post for that, but in order for this to be true of vampires they would barely be sentient. They would not be able to process new impressions, to learn new things, nor to have an independent thought process. Yes, we see vampires in-universe (namely, Edward, who romanticizes himself and vampires) believe they're frozen and can never change, but there is no indication that this is a widespread belief, or even true. Quite the contrary - Carlisle went from a preacher's son who wanted to burn all the demons to living in Demon Capital for decades and then becoming a doctor and making a whole family of demons. Clearly, the guy has had a change in attitude over the years. Jasper, in his years as a newborn army general, slowly grew disenchanted with his life and developed depression. James initially meant to kill Victoria and hunted her across the earth, then became fascinated and changed his mind about it.

Had these people been incapable of change, Carlisle would still be hating demons, Jasper would be in Maria's army, and James would still be hunting Victoria.

It goes to follow, then, that they are able to adapt to new things.

The question is, would they?

Here I finally answer your question.

So, we have these people who don't really have any kind of stake in politics, who keep up to date all the same (or are forcibly kept up to date because high school) and are generally opinionated people.

Where do they then fall, politically?

(And this is where you might want to stop reading, anon, because I'm about to eviscerate these people.)

Alice votes for whoever's gonna win. She also makes a fortune off of betting each election. Trump's 1 to 10 victory in 2016 was a great day to be Alice. MAGA!

The actual policies involved are completely irrelevant, she does this because it's fun. Election means she gets to throw parties. Color coded parties for the Republican and Democratic primaries, and US-themed parties for Election Night! (Foreigner moment right here: I at first wrote "Election wake" before realizing that's not what y'all murricans call it.)

Alice loves politics. Doesn't know the issues, but she sure loves politics.

Bella votes Democrat. She actually knows about the issues, and cares about them. This girl is a Democrat through and through.

Carlisle doesn't vote. I can't imagine it feels right. Outside of faked papers he's not a US citizen, this is meddling in human affairs that he knows don't concern him.

More, this guy has never lived in a democracy.

In life, Carlisle lived under an absolute monarchy that, upon civil war, became an absolute theocracy. From there he learned that vampires live under a total dictatorship.

For the first 150 years of his life, democracy was that funky thing the Athenians did in history books thousands of years ago, no more relevant to him than the Ancient Egyptian monarchy is to me. Then the Americans, and later other European countries started doing this.

Good for them.

There's this mistake often made by those who view history from a... for lack of a better term, a solipsistic standpoint. A belief that the present day is the culmination of all of history. “My society is the best society, the most reasonable society; all the others had it backwards. Thank god we’re living in this enlightened age!”

The faith in our current system of government is one such belief. We (pardon me if this doesn’t apply to everybody reading this post) have grown up in democracies, being told this is the ultimate form of rule, and perhaps that is true - but remember the kings who have told their subjects they had were divine and the best possible ruler based on that. Remember also that most modern democracies haven’t actually been democracies for very long at all, America is the longest standing at some 230 years (not long at all in the grand scope of things) and they have a fracturing two-party system to show for it.

Every society, ever, has been told they’re the greatest, and their system of government the most just. Democracy is only the latest hit.

This is relevant to Carlisle because he’s immortal and decidedly not modern. Democracy has not been installed in him the way it was the rest of the Cullens, Jasper included. To him- well, it’s just not his world. He has no stakes in our human politics, and as he is older than every current democracy and has seen quite a few of them fall, he’s not going to internalize the democratic form of rule the way a modern human has.

I think the concept of voting is foreign to him.

It requires a level of participation in human society that he’s simply not at. He does the bare minimum to appear human so he do the work he loves, but nothing more, and I find that telling.

As it is I think he'd be iffy about his family doing it. He won’t stop them, but in voting they’re... well it’s kind of cheating. They’re not really citizens, none of this will affect them, and by voting they’re drowning out the votes of real human voters. He does not approve.

Edward votes Democrat. He's... well he’s the kind of guy who will oil a girl’s bedroom window so he can more easily watch her sleep without being discovered, justifying it to himself as being okay because if she were to tell him to get lost he’d stop immediately. Same guy is so sure that he’d leave and never return again if she wanted him to, except this is the man who returned to Forks to hang around his singer, knowing there was a significant chance he might kill her. To say nothing of his Madonna/Whore complex, or of the fact that he tried to pimp out his wife twice, and was willing to forcibly abort her child.

This guy is very much in love with chivalry, with being an enlightened and feminist man who supports and respects women, while not understanding the entire point of feminism, which is female liberation.

He votes Democrat because he’s such an enlightened feminist who cares about women’s rights.

Emmett doesn’t care to vote, but if he has to he votes Republican. The guy is from the 1930′s, and has major would-be-the-uncle-who-cracks-racist-jokes-if-he-was-older vibes.

Esme doesn’t vote, that would require getting out of the house.

More, I just... can’t see it. I can’t see her being one to read up on politics and The Issues, period, but if she has to then I doubt she’d be able to decide.

Jasper doesn’t vote. Alice can have her fun, he does not care.

There’s also the whole can of worms regarding the last time he went to bat for American politics.

I imagine he stays out of this.

Renesmée doesn't vote. She has no stock in the human affairs. Who would she vote for, on what grounds? When Bella tries to pull her to the urns, she points out that she's three years old.

Rosalie, guys, I’m sorry, but that girl is definitely gonna vote Republican. Perhaps not right now as it’s become the Trump party of insanity, but the Mitt Romney type of Republicans? Oh yes.

And for the record, yes I imagine she does vote. To step back from politics would be another way she was relinquishing her humanity, and that’s not allowed to happen. So, yes, she goes to the urns, less for the sake of the politics involved and more because like this, she’s still a part of society in some way.

Now, onto why I think she’s Republican, I think it’s both fiscal and social.

This girl was the daughter of a banker who somehow profited off of the Depression, and who then became part of a family with no material needs that would soon become billionaires thanks to Alice. Poverty to Rosalie is a non-issue, as it is I imagine she views it as a much lesser issue than what she’s had to deal with. The humans can pull themselves up by their bootstraps, Rosalie’s infertility is forever.

Rosalie’s empathy is strongest when she’s able to project onto others, and she won’t be able to project onto the less fortunate at all.

Then there’s the fact that the Republican party is all about traditional family values, and pro-life.

Rosalie, a woman from the 1930′s who idolizes her human life and who‘d love nothing more than to get to live out this fantasy, is down for that. And as of Breaking Dawn she’s vocally pro-life, so there’s that.

This all being said I don’t think Rosalie cares to sit down and fully understand these politics she’s voting for, the possible impact they’ll have- that’s not important. What’s important is what voting does for her.

TL;DR: I bet anon regrets asking.

[busycryin]

REPOST - THE NIGHT WE MET

THE NIGHT WE MET

PART ONE - THE NIGHT WE MET

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: You decide to travel to Colombia on a whim, there you meet a gorgeous stranger that just so happens to be your brothers partner. 

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

Anon was worried about losing my work when I switched blogs, so fear not. I’m reposting on here but I have no intention of deleting my other blog, it’s where I got my first 200 notes and I’m honestly blown away by it. I’m happy to announce I’m working on a fourth part. I’m not sure when I’ll post it as I’m still in the idea stage but it’s definitely a start, ay!

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you’d like to see anything in particular. If it’s in my wheelhouse, you’ll definitely see it.  

Pedro in the black shirt is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie.

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake.

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin’ airline ticket. You had attempted to grab your crappy life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentary bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into one of your full scale panic attacks if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim.

You were fuckin’ dumb.

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar.

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self.

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing.

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn’t have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed.  A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret.

You had to check on Steve.

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn’t there to kill him.

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother’s address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other.  The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian.

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here.

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands, you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought.

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response.

“Uh… no hablo… español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi…Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason.

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda… does he know you’re here?”

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed.

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second.

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again.

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it’s a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive.

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with.

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you.

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more.

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man… Good to know.

…

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one.

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink.

“Murphy? … Yeah…  you need to get back to your place now… You’ve got a guest…. No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother’s partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months.

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another’s company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving.  He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance.

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner’s sister and he was doing the decent thing.

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.”  You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it’s a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds.

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired.

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out.

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone.

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman’s tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman’s words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son… I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…”  Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.”

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own.

How was he so goddamn warm?

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man’s elbow and you’re a blushing mess.  

Get a grip Y/N.

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art.

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia… Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host.  You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully.

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it’s probably ‘cause he’s busy…  He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.”

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention,  you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning.“

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier.  He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit.

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier’s hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach.

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching.  He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system.  You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother’s partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve…

“… This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint.

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance.

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own.

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love.  This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew.

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throat your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered  “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled.

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man’s hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser.

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own.  Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it.

“…Is Steve okay?”

“…No… He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding.

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime.

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve’s voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “…what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it’s not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.  

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia.

This had definitely not been a mistake.

[travis-and-jodi]

MAY 10, 2008

Texts & Notes

“But you have pissed that a way and times are fixing to get tough for you.”

Travis & Jodi Fight ... Again!

The following text messaging between Jodi and Travis occurred one month after Jodi had departed Mesa, returning to Yreka in an attempt to move on with her life, and during a period when Travis was himself busy “sex-ting” numerous women (sometimes several at the same time).

On the night of 9 May 2008 Jodi is composing a text message intended for a friend named Steve Carroll with whom she has been discussing business, explaining to Steve that it would be best if they communicate through a different means than through her Google account. But after hitting “Send” Jodi immediately realizes that the message is headed for Travis and she frantically tries to delete it. The second half of the divided message is deleted but the first part is delivered to Travis: “Hey there some one has my google password because he’s helping me w/some things on my google blog. Unfortunately, he happens to be an ex boyfriend!”

A phone call immediately ensues in which Travis wants the message explained, angry that Jodi is talking to another man and then intending to hide it from him. He insists on seeing the second half of the message (which, of course, she no longer has). Phone call ends and texting continues:

Travis: You and [your] steve cover up make me freaking sick. You are liar to the core of who you are it seems.

Jodi: I was just trying to move my business to a more private venue. You brought it up. The fact that I’m a single girl talking to some guy is not sick. Being completely honest about him w/you was a mistake. I spared you only a few details because every time I begin to divulge anything like that you stop me and tell me you don’t want to hear about that stuff. So I was vague on purpose for that reason exactly. But nothing I said about him was untrue.

And why wouldn’t she be worried with that kind of abusive reaction? And she did poke into his business when she suspected he was cheating on her. Which he was!!! That’s why they were no longer a viable couple.

Travis: Why don’t you have him come and fuck you in the woods. I can only imagine you are so worried about me reading. You are paranoid because you have no respect for people privacy and you dare insult me of all people. Someone you have [showed] through your actions you hate more than love by denying me a human right of privacy countless times. You have a lot of freaking nerve. We are all not like you in that aspect.

Jodi: Please don’t give me any more grief about Steve or anyone else. I still love you bunches and I’m doing what I think will help me move on. I haven’t asked you about any girls in your life recently. Let’s just adopt a dont ask dont tell policy when it comes to that stuff and we’ll both be better off. Dont you agree?

Jodi is trying to deescalate the situation but Travis insists on upping it further with sarcasm:

Travis: How about we take it one step further and forget each other exist.

Jodi drops the conversation but an hour or so later she is texting her sister Angela about a surprise for their brother Joey. But Jodi is so accustomed to punching the numbers to text Travis that it is almost automatic and she accidentally misdirects yet another message to Travis:

Jodi: Oh and not that u would, but dont tell him!!!

Thirty minutes later:

Travis: Do you want to explain what the hell that means and who that was supposed to [go] to?

Two minutes later:

Travis: You’ve had 30 minutes to come up with a lie, lets here it.

Jodi: Angela. It’s about a surprise for Joey regarding Cooperstown. The surprise is we might stay the night in the museum but I didnt want her to spoil it. I JUST GOT THAT TEXT FROM YOU!!! I didnt even realize it went to u til u brought it up just now.

Travis: I freaking bet. I wonder what crap you send out that I don’t get. I bet the second half of that email was a doozy. You are a real piece of work, by the way thanks for keeping your end of the contract you made by paying me for the car you destroyed. You are more and more like your mom everyday. Going to cooperstown while you owe me thousands. What integrity.

Jodi: please stop. I havent purchased anything yet. Im not even sure if I’m going which is why I didnt want Angela to get Joey’s hopes up too soon. We will go eventually, but I’ve been discussing it w/my parents and they may fund a good portion of it cause its for his bday. I havent forgotten about my obligation to you and I’ve been consistently checking back on all of my applications.

Then comes the threat:

Travis: Please stop? I havnt even begun. You are going to start to be held accountable for your shiz. You have pissed me off in a way you never should have and until now I have given you a lot of mercy. But you have pissed that a way and times are fixing to get tough for you.

Travis still wants to see the second half of the message. After two hours, when Jodi has not yet responded:

Travis: What is taking so long?

Travis: Ho[w] am I able to type you multiple text and you bare not able to resend one.

Travis: You are changing it because you are a liar.

Jodi recreates the full message as best she can remember (and probably as much as he needs to know, considering his behavior) and sends it to Travis: Hey there some one has my google password because he’s helping me w/some things on my google blog. Unfortunately, he happens to be an ex boyfriend! Jodiarias!hotmail.com for now if u want. Thanks!

Jodi: I know why that one is private now! I forgot about a new album I’ creating its not done yet. I’ll tell u later if u ever want to know but I’m tired of texting. Good night.

Travis: I’m not going to be having a good night Jodi. If you are going to insult me make sure you learn how to do it. Sometimes ignorance is bliss I guess. You speak so often of how I have hurt you. Just because you read about it in your journal more or talk about it more doesn’t mean you’ve been hurt more.

But why would Travis be angry (and supposedly hurt) that Jodi is talking to another man when they are no longer a couple. And why is he continuing to insist that he see the entire message? Why should that be his business? Could it be because he feels he may be losing control?

But Jodi, once again, is the first to apologize and shoulder the majority of responsibility…

Jodi: I know. I am very sorry for all of the pain we’e caused each other. Most of it is my fault because of the decisions I’ve made. I’m sorry you’ve suffered as a result of it. I never meant to hurt you in any way. Hurting you makes me feel more subhuman than I ever thought possible. I love you and I’m sorry.

Travis: I’m sorry too, I love you.

And this is a perfect example of how Travis expressed his love for Jodi.

[JODI ARIAS: An Argument for Reasonable Doubt]

[captainkirbypunch]

My love has left tumblr once again.

As many of you may know, the account under the name MDZADR, has left tumblr. They felt unsafe in their fandom, and as such have deleted their tumblr and AO3 account due to the bad memories linked to them.

As a part of their departure, they have asked me to post something in their name, as follows.

If you want more details about how I came to this realization, continue to read. If not, here is your summary:

TL;DR: For the safety and health of this fandom, I wanted to spread the word that Mooping-10 is filled with people who absolutely cannot be trusted, creating a very hazardous environment for the zadr community, and MelodyoftheVoid is connected to all of those people, living a double life amongst those of us that don’t “ship zadr correctly.” She has plenty of friends her inner circle knows nothing about, and nobody on either side knows who she really is. 

Full story below.

I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. Nobody did anything to me today, but this just wasn’t worth it.

My AO3 and tumblr are both gone. I didn’t say goodbye because I didn’t want to look like an attention seeker.

Here’s the thing. I wasn’t going to name drop, but you guys need to know the truth. I’m instructing my boyfriend (hi y’all) to turn asks off for his own safety after this because this is going to be a nightmare, but... allow me to tell you the full story. I’ll try to break up the text so it’s less difficult to read, but this is important. I’m sorry to air discourse so publicly, but please... I need you to listen to me.

I’ll start from the beginning, without being vague anymore about who “she” is. I request that you please read the whole thing and not skip parts of it. The whole story matters.

I finally returned to the fandom about two months or so ago. As I’ve mentioned, I don’t do well in my thoughts while left alone too long, so I posted saying I would stop messaging people I knew because I didn’t want to bother them. There were only two people I was talking to at the time, but one of them is famous so I didn’t want to message her directly saying that. Doing so would have put her in a position of feeling obligated to say “you’re not bothering me” rather than just simply being able to sigh with relief from no longer being contacted. 

But the first person to contact me was the famous person, and she asked if I was okay, and told me she liked talking to me.

God, I actually cried.

But, that’s just her. Melodyofthevoid is the type of person to talk to people in the fandom, totally unaware of her demigod status. She comments on stories, interacts on posts, messages first... a pillar of kindness, so it seemed.

But let the story continue.

Over time, we were talking more often. 

Mostly sending memes (cause everyone I knew, myself included, aren’t exactly great at holding conversations. No shade. Memes are a love language). I was still in the hero worship stage of our relationship, so my view of her was that that was perfect.

Now, let me bridge a connection with a new story idea I got around December 28th or so, and my thinking she was perfect.

I had recently finished watching Madoka and questioned “If I had magical powers, what would they be?” It then turned into its own story idea, basing creators’ powers around the strengths and weaknesses in creations. I actually realized “oh fuck. My stuff is incoherent. My friends’ works aren’t too different...”

Thus spawned the name “Incoherent” for the project.

What does that have to do with this? Well, here’s the thing that really fucked everything up quickly. 

This was not on purpose, because originally the project (which I had told nobody of yet at the time) was all about improving your works, making platonic friends, dressing our personas in cute outfits, and writing fun magic.

While listening to music and thinking of the story one day, my brain accidentally shipped my persona with hers, and I couldn’t unsee it. And I’m lousy at keeping my own secrets (other’s are different) so she found out on probably day one or two about my weird crush because of an ask meme of all things. 

She didn’t try to put me off any, which was another problem for future things to come, and so I decided that since Incoherent was finally making me feel alive again and feeling the euphoric feelings of love wouldn’t hurt anything (I figured they’d mellow out on their own eventually because that’s how infatuation works) since they helped fuel my inspiration, and then we would just continue from friends to better friends one day and this part of our lives would be over.

Besides, the forbidden is attractive somehow, and makes stories more entertaining. She’s aro/ace, so I had no chance anyway. Someone safe to crush on, in her own way.

This isn’t a story of a love betrayal however. There was no such thing. But it’s important to the story because Incoherent is where my mistakes were made, and hers brought to light.

By this time, I had a handful of people I was talking to, and I created a discord server for the project. Only my boyfriend (hi!) and I were in it at the time. I was not-so-subtly asking my friends what they’d look like if they were a magical person, what their names would be... I thought I would have had to lure Melody in to make her want to join us, but I managed to get her in very easily. Everyone was happy and excited! It was a no obligation, no time limit thing for us to enjoy, a little sandbox to play around in. 

Sure there were plans to make it bigger and I was working on art to the best of my ability, but it was gonna be a fun thing mostly. No pressure on anyone.

And how things started becoming a problem was that the rest of us posted publicly about the project and interacted with each other’s posts relating to the story, but she had started to interact publicly less and less with our things, and everyone noticed it.

It wasn’t because we were greedy and wanted the popular girl to reblog our things. It’s because we had a feeling she was ashamed of being seen publicly with us. The reason we were worried before then and started making that connection was because I mentioned I was going to ask another user if they were interested in joining Incoherent. Melody was the only one that seemed uncomfortable, and I messaged her asking about it. We agreed I wouldn’t invite that person but I knew things were off about it.

That person is like me. How long until Melody didn’t want to talk to me anymore? A few days ago, the other shoe finally dropped. A member of our little group and I were talking and (let’s call them Friend for simplicity. They asked to not be name dropped here) Friend was worried they had made Melody upset by tagging her in a meme picture they drew of her persona, and the two had agreed that Friend remove the tag. This spawned an anxiety-filled conversation where Friend and I expressed our concerns about Melody not interacting with the project, or us.

So since I wanted reassurance that that wasn’t the case, I messaged Melody with my concerns. I told her I had the feeling she was ashamed of being seen in public with us because of her friends, and she didn’t refute me. She simply told me to go get some rest. I messaged back with “I’m right.”

I deleted Discord off my phone for hours and nearly deleted my Tumblr, AO3, and the server after my boyfriend helped pass messages between us. Melody confessed that was the case because her friends expressed discomfort with my works, and she was playing both sides.

Her words, not mine.

Melody told me she would be withdrawing from the Incoherent project because it wasn’t fair to us if her heart wasn’t in it.

She didn’t stand up on my behalf when they said things about me. Her friends are the type who talk behind creators’ backs for shipping zadr “incorrectly.” Worse than antis because they actually participate in the “pro-shipping” side of the fandom. I broke that day and messaged her at 3 am.

We finally spoke at 3pm. We both missed each other. I tried to understand more. I wanted it to be more like a conversation rather than an interrogation. It was only one-sided however, and she never opened up further. And I made some mistakes and poor choices of words, and we ended up parting ways permanently right there. 

I nearly deleted everything, but much like a coma patient attached to many machines on a hospital bed, my blog was kept alive a little longer by people sending kind words in droves. I was briefly fuelled by spite, wishing to watch the world burn by making everyone on the "correct" side of the fandom upset by posting the worst, most vile content this fandom has ever seen.

I was also welcomed with open arms by a very kind server with fellow degenerates, all of them screaming and crying and partying when they managed to get me in their server. It was so heartwarming...

But as I spoke to others about my situation, I realized something. A disturbing pattern.

People telling me horror stories about how Mooping-10 was cult-like. How the people running it were antis. I was even told once that they have a secondary server where they go to have their talks and do their work, likely the place where the real bashing is held.

The server itself has rules against such behavior, but I suppose it's different when they do it.

One person (and this is the most unnerving part for me, personally) told me Melody actually set off alarm bells in their head without having even done anything yet, and the most disturbing part of the story was that one of the moderators was afraid and upset because they got Covid, and received basically no moral support at all. Only getting told "spoiler that. Sorry you got Covid".

I was horrified. That server has 100 people in it. How many of them are the same? They act like popular kids in school who picked up an unpopular main character and then bash others, and the main character joined in because they don't want to be left behind by their new "friends".

To put it short, back to my point:

TL;DR: I simply only wanted to spread the word that: Mooping-10 is filled with people who absolutely cannot be trusted, creating a very hazardous environment for the zadr community, and Melodyofthevoid is connected to all of those people, living a double life amongst those of us that don't "ship zadr correctly". She has plenty of friends her inner circle knows nothing about, and nobody on either side knows who she really is.

[secondpubertyscene]

8.14.21

This year has been one of major change. In Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower, there’s this quote, “God is Change. Beware: God exists to shape and be shaped,” and I think for the first time since reading it, I get what was being said. While I subscribe to the idea that there is a higher power of some kind, I also believe that we (as in, us as individuals) have great power as well. That power lies in our ability to change, to grow, to persevere. This year has been one of major change, and we really have to talk about it.

It is easy to look at this last year and think, “Well, that fucking sucked” because frankly, it did indeed fucking suck. I could write you a list of things that brought me great pain this year, unbelievable, undeniable, unrelenting pain that still lingers now. But, see, the beauty of it all is that none of that pain happens in a vacuum. Along with the pain, I’ve come through it all with more wisdom, more compassion, more empathy, more gratitude, more peace, more love, and more confidence. I’d like to share how those things all are connected, but first I would like to acknowledge something.

While I don’t know for sure if this is just an American thing, it does seem very clear that Americans aren’t fantastic at processing grief, death, and pain collectively. We often are encouraged to suck it up, to shut up about it, to not make others uncomfortable with our tears and trauma. I believe this is in large part due to the fact that American Exceptionalism doesn’t quite allow us to acknowledge when our systems have failed us or when we are suffering in the “greatest country in the world.” I don’t intend on participating in that toxic positivity or to dismiss the seriousness of the year past. I simply intend on acknowledging the nuances of my experiences, the complexity of it all. Now, let’s begin.

Without recounting every moment in large detail (in part because that would be far too much and also because I don’t need to relieve my traumas today), the events of the last year have been as follows: 1) COVID hit, 2) I had a severe emotional breakdown that resulted in a short stay at the hospital, 3) my grandma passed away, 4) I broke up with my partner of a year, 5) I was officially diagnosed with adult ADHD (inattentive), 6) I got into a PhD program for sociology (fully-funded), and 7) I moved to Ohio (two weeks ago now). So much happened in what feels like a blink of an eye. When you’re a kid, you think a year lasts forever. Now, a year feels like a couple months!

Anyhow, all of these things had super intense negative impacts on my life and most of them had super intense positive impacts on my life. Let’s talk about how. I won’t say that COVID had any “positive” impact on my life, because it’s still currently making things difficult and it is still destroying lives (full worlds) every day. The emotional breakdown that I experienced shortly after COVID began, however, was the impetus for some of the greatest change I would ever make in my life. It began with new therapy, medication for the first time ever to treat my mental illnesses, and a new relationship with boundaries.

Out of this breakdown, I came to realize a few things. 1) I wasn’t really feeling most of my life up until that point. That isn’t to say that I didn’t feel at all or that I wasn’t aware of my feelings all the time, but to say that most of the time, I numbed everything out that was too hard to bear. I didn’t cry, I didn’t write, I didn’t even take the time to try to identify exactly what emotions I did feel. I just lived through it and waited until I felt better. Or, I would breakdown with rage and then feel better. Therapy, especially the group therapy I participated in for a couple weeks after leaving the hospital, changed that in huge ways for me.

Because I was able to sit in my pain, in my discomfort, I was able to actually work through some of my issues. I began to identify the areas in my life that made me genuinely unhappy and began to grant myself permission to feel disappointment. I granted myself the permission to expect more, to want more. I granted myself the permission to set boundaries without guilt or shame. I granted myself freedom. It is an ongoing journey of mistakes and back-peddling and trying again, but it is mine and I am proud of it. Had I not had that breakdown, I don’t know that I would be where I am now.

My grandma dying is one of the most painful things I’ve experienced and honestly, I haven’t dealt with it all the way yet. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her in person, I still am battling the feelings of guilt despite knowing that there likely was nothing I could have done, and my chest still feels heavy thinking about her. Even as I write this, I feel that pain. I know she is not truly gone and that she lives within me, but oh, I do miss her physical presence. The nagging, the phone calls, the hugs, the cooking, her soft hair and beautiful hands. I miss her. Because of her, though, I have been able to rehabilitate another relationship in my life. The relationship I share with my mother.

My mother is a lot of things, but for whatever reason I continually forgot that she too is a victim of hardship brought on by nothing but sheer luck. In this last year, she lost her mother, the man that she loved, multiple cousins, friends that went back to childhood, and who knows who else. She suffered a lot this year and she has suffered a lot over the course of her 61 years of life overall. For the first time, I have been able to really acknowledge her as a full being with a complex history and understand her as a person, rather than just as a parent. I’ve set new boundaries with her as a result, boundaries that have completely change the dynamic of our relationship and will continue to do so as we both learn more about each other. Gone are the days where she relies solely on me for emotional support or financial support. Gone are the days where she feels comfortable talking down to me and then expecting any kind of favors from me. She understands and respects that I am an adult, that I am independent, and that I can terminate our relationship should it get to a point where I feel unsafe again. While this might sound like a threat or even negative, it is in fact quite the contrary.

We now share the belief that I deserve better from her and that my continued relationship with her is founded upon our mutual growth. That’s a beautiful thing that arose from us being pulled together by the loss of someone we both loved more than we maybe even loved ourselves. Thankfully, though, I have come to love myself more than anyone else on this planet. This newfound self-love and respect resulted in the severing of my relationship with my partner.

I won’t pretend like my ex was this horrible person because she wasn’t. She was kind, loving, intelligent, hilarious, unique, complex, and so many other amazing things. I still love her with all of my heart and have thought about her every single day since we broke up. It is not for lack of love that our relationship came to a close. The issue was that I needed more than what she could give. I needed someone who could really sit in my shit with me without invalidating my feelings jokingly because they didn’t know what else to say. I needed someone who could make me feel safe and secure, not fearful and insecure. I needed someone who understood boundaries as openings for futures, not closed doors. I needed someone who could show up for me the way I showed up for them, even when they hurt me, even when they lied out of fear. She wasn’t able to do that. She wasn’t able to stick beside me during the worst days of my life. She wasn’t able to see me beyond our relationship. When my grandma passed and our relationship was on the rocks, she made it about us. She didn’t stop pestering me about our relationship for long enough to give me support on losing someone who meant the world to me. I couldn’t trust her after that and I also realized, I wasn’t required to.

Boundaries in that relationship weren’t healthy. I felt unseen, unprotected, and sometimes even unloved. While I am sure that she has grown even more since we have parted, the reality is that when I ended things, I knew that doing so was the most fair thing I could do for the both of us. This is because I deserve someone who sees my value inherently. I deserve someone who takes the time to understand me, to love me, to see me. Not just see me and them together, but me as an individual separate from them. More importantly, I needed to be able to ask for those things without feeling guilty or bad. As of now, I still don’t know that she sees me as me, as a singular person, and maybe she never will. That is okay. I still love her anyway. I just love me more now. As a part of that love I’ve grown for myself, I also now have sought out more help for myself. This seeking of resources led me to realizing that I was ADHD and helped me change my life.

Being diagnosed with ADHD at 21 felt absolutely ridiculous. How could I be ADHD when I can sit still most of the time and have a pretty decent amount of impulse control? The answers came from my psychiatrist, breaking down the stereotypical understanding of ADHD and allowing me to find myself within the diagnosis. Finding the right combination of medication has been difficult, but what hasn’t been hard at all is finding more resources that help me manage my symptoms. It’s because of some of these resources that I am able to sit here and write this.

A huge part of ADHD is this perfectionist mentality that makes it nearly impossible to start or complete some tasks. Every time I sat down to write in the past, I told myself that I absolutely had to write every single day, once a day, or I should just not do it. When it came to this blog especially, I had so much shame when I failed to post for a long time or had a lull, that I would either consider deleting the whole thing to start over, or just never posting again. I realize now that those were just cop outs for my brain, that I can write as little or as much as I want because it is for ME. It doesn’t have to be perfect; it doesn’t have to be anything but what I need it to be. Waiting for perfection would have me waiting forever because it’s simply not how my brain works. Accepting that is a large part of how I got into my PhD program.

I’m not going to lie. I am still trying to figure out all of the feelings I have regarding this PhD program. I am shocked that I got in, shocked that I got full-funding, shocked that I am now in Ohio, shocked that I am in my own apartment, and overall shocked that I’ve made it this far in general. While I do not believe that I am stupid or not capable of greatness, I am realizing that I’ve always seen myself pursuing something more straightforward. When I was younger, I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted to do even as those things changed. I knew what was required of me, I knew what I would ultimately do, and I took refuge in that. Doctors go to medical school. Chefs go to culinary school. Forensic anthropologists get masters degrees and do field work. It felt clear cut, straightforward, safe. This is uncharted territory. What do you do post PhD? What do you do DURING PhD years? I suppose I’ll just have to find out!

Anyhow, this year has been intense. Change is always present in our lives and sometimes it brings with gifts that we can only receive when we’re healed enough to take them. I’m hoping to keep healing, keep growing, keep loving, and keep going. I’m learning so much about myself and about the world. I’m loving myself more than I have in the past. I am incredibly proud of where I am. And I’m not done yet.

[tomhardysteeth]

u wanna say anything for spn ending? Today's their last day of filming

Yeah sure! I love how you worded this ask, it makes me want to give a very serious answer. I’ve been rewatching random episodes the past few days and thinking about how much of my life was shaped by this random lil tv show, both positively and negatively, so here we go. 

I started watching Supernatural during my junior year of college, when I was grappling with being gay and religious, and had a pseudo-girlfriend who was emotionally abusive. I remember I started watching the show because I had been on tumblr for a while and thought, well this is a popular show on tumblr and looks like something I’d enjoy, so I might as well try it. I remember barely paying attention to the first season and thinking it was kind of silly, and I distinctly remember making fun of it right up until the season 1 finale when that truck slammed into the Impala and I said oh.

I remember sitting in the dining hall between classes, hiding in a corner with my pink headphones and my laptop, watching one episode after the other, completely consumed by it. My personal life was a mess at the time and I was angry and sad and frustrated, but I could forget about everything for a little while when I watched spn. I remember falling in love with Dean Winchester, season 3, when Sam gave him the amulet. 

Because I had already spent a lot of time on tumblr, I knew about Castiel. I couldn’t wait to get to season 4, the anticipation killed me. I didn’t really have a choice in shipping destiel, I literally shipped it before I even watched a single episode of the show lol. My first time watching seasons 4 and 5, I remember how mad I would feel every time the opening credits scrolled at the bottom of the screen and Misha Collins wasn’t listed. I cared about almost nothing but Dean and Cas interacting with each other. I was totally enamored by them, by their potential. At some point I got over that and watched the show because I liked the show, but boy did my heart and brain break for destiel. 

I broke up with my abusive girlfriend. I started coming out to more people, including people involved in the Christian campus ministry I was heavily involved in, and it was very very hard. It was 2013. The first episode of Supernatural I watched live was the episode where Dean turns into a fucking dog. 

I don’t remember when I started reading fanfic, and I had no idea how to read fanfic. A friend invited me to ao3, what is ao3? I didn’t know. I used my email address as my username. I read Twist and Shout and Pie Without Plot and other very popular fics that I knew about because everybody knew about them. I vividly remember the first fics I read because I was 21 years old and had never had an orgasm in my life and believed sex was sinful and so when the sex scenes in fics turned me on, I felt guilty about it. 

I quickly got over that and started writing explicit destiel fanfic. 

I still had no idea what I was doing. I know the very first fic I ever wrote was a mess, I’ve completely erased all traces of it, but other than that I began posting with abandon. Pretty much everything I’ve ever written for spn is still on tumblr and/or ao3. I was running a Hannibal blog at the time and started posting more Supernatural content than Hannibal content, so I created a sideblog, @deancasheadcanons​, and things very quickly got out of hand after that.

I was depressed, I was confused, I was spending my last couple years of college trying to figure out my sexuality, trying to hold onto a religion that was rejecting who I was becoming, trying to find my identity while picking a career path and being sad and being pulled in a hundred different directions. Sometimes I was working three jobs at once, on top of 17-credit-hour semesters. I was getting a degree in a field I did not care about, and I spent every class reading and writing fanfic, scrolling through tumblr, making internet friends, letting my life be consumed by Supernatural. I projected myself completely onto Dean Winchester and partially onto Castiel and did not even realize it. 

I started dressing like Dean, and my sister and brother-in-law noticed and assumed I was gay. They were extremely unsubtle in their attempts at getting me to come out by pointing out the flannel and army jackets, and I did not have it in me to admit to them that I was dressing like a fictional character, but I DID tell them I was bisexual. 

I went to therapy every week during my senior year of college, and I was embarrassed about how often I talked about my “internet life,” as I called it. I remember having the arbitrary goal of getting 1,000 kudos on a fanfic, and I remember the day it happened for the first time and I remember going to therapy that week and saying that I didn’t feel any different, that I thought getting attention for my writing would make me feel better, somehow, but I still felt the same, and my therapist asked me if I would still be writing if I was the only one who got anything out of it and I said yes. But I was still obsessed with writing things that were meaningful, and despite the fact that I would receive 10 negative/mean anons per day, I never turned anon off because I desperately wanted people to tell me that my writing meant something to them, that it mattered to them. I was fighting with myself every day over my sexuality and my identity and my purpose, and I put all of that on the shoulders of Dean and Cas. 

There was also chubby!dean. I had lived my entire life with this inexplicable thing, this shame that I knew I could not share, that I knew I would just have to suffer with for my whole life, and then I joined the spn fandom and found that there were others like me, others that had a fetish and had similar experiences as I did and were drawn to Dean Winchester because there’s no other character that could make eating and gaining weight be as enticing as he makes it (in fanfic). For the first time in my life I had a community of people that I could relate to about a thing that I never thought I would ever be able to talk about with anyone in my life. I don’t remember if I consciously chose to start posting publicly about it, but at some point I did, and I started writing kink fic, but I was still so uncomfortable with myself and so scared of the things I felt, and I tried so hard to temper myself and not offend anyone and not go “too far” and not be too weird and I was so sexually repressed and pent up and full of guilt and shame, and so now when I go back and reread some of the stuff I wrote it feels like reopening an old wound and letting myself bleed out. 

I was constantly comparing myself to others and wondering why I wasn’t getting as much attention as so-and-so, and I always made excuses about how maybe my writing was too weird and I was too much and maybe I just wasn’t good enough and I hated myself and wanted to delete everything I ever wrote, but also I’m awesome and receive a lot of attention and get a lot of good feedback but maybe that means I’m just a narcissist! I acted like an asshole online and justified it by saying it wasn’t really me, that I could be someone totally different on tumblr than the person I was in “real life,” but in hindsight, now when I think back on my early 20s, I cannot separate what I was doing in “real life” from what I was doing in the spn fandom. I shared so much of myself with the spn fandom without even recognizing that that’s what I was doing. 

And I made mistakes, god I made mistakes, and I tried to be so careful about everything I said but I was also presenting a certain version of myself to the spn fandom so that people would like me (for instance: running a destiel blog and trying my best to hide the fact that I also ship wincest) and still I got in trouble constantly, and I grew bitter and mean because you can only receive the “when are you posting the next chapter?” comment so many times before you want to bang your head into a wall. I became defensive and unkind, afraid to check my inbox because it was a nightmare, and yet unable to turn off anon because, like I said, I desperately needed that feedback, I needed people to tell me that they felt what I felt, that they understood what I was writing and why I was writing it.

I expected Supernatural to give me everything I needed. I fantasized about Dean Winchester being canonically bisexual because I thought it would confirm something in me, that it would somehow make my life a little bit easier. I didn’t want to watch other shows that could maybe help me, I wanted Supernatural to do things for me that it had never promised and would never deliver, and it’s because I was defined by it for so many years. Now that I’m back on tumblr, I’ve been going back through some of my old posts on deancasheadcanons and it’s like reading a stranger’s words. Even so, I find myself telling people “I was deancasheadcanons” instead of “I ran a sideblog called deancasheadcanons” because it really was such a huge part of my identity. What’s wild is that every time I’ve tried to explain it to someone in real life, they just look at me like I’m not making any sense. 

It was easy to stop watching Supernatural. I didn’t have cable, and I had been driving to my dad and stepmom’s house each week and watching it on their tv after they had gone to bed. I was in a new relationship with a woman I nearly married, I was back in school for a new career, I was working full time and absolutely did not have time to continue writing fanfic as prolifically as I had done for so many years. I finally reached a breaking point in 2017 and haven’t watched any new episodes since then (I don’t remember the last episode I saw). But now, as I rewatch some old episodes, it is easy to feel the way I felt the first time I watched the show. It’s easy to see why this campy little heartfelt show was a lifeline during my formative adult years.

So it turns out I have never reckoned with any of this, have never written it down, hence the 2k jumble of words you see here. And it’s like, I know that a lot of this may seem silly, trivial, especially for a show that in itself is not very serious, but as it comes to an end I have to reflect on it as a person who put so much of my heart, my creativity, my pain and my floundering identity into it. I am somewhat embarrassed and wish I could respond to this ask with a joke instead, but we’re in a pandemic and I live alone and have had way too much time to think and reflect and become a lot more self-aware, and part of that reflection has definitely been about my time in the spn fandom. I remember thinking the show was never going to end, yet here we are at the end and I felt compelled to type all this out with a desire to, I don’t know, get some closure? Convince myself that I was a whole person, that I wasn’t just a faceless URL posting destiel fics into the void, that my real life was not at all disparate from the time I spent online? In any case, I’ll always think fondly of the time I devoted to Supernatural, and I’ll take the good and the bad and everything in between. Thanks for the nice ask, anon, apparently I needed to get some things off my chest.  

[mallowstep]

I think the allegiances drama is more towards ppl being upset about editors not caring when it comes to details of their own series. As someone who was also excited to see an updated Wind list for the time period I find it hard to be happy because its not just Thunder who got mixed up. Shrewclaw is still alive even though he should be dead and Grasswhisker is a warrior even though their mother Sunfish starts the book as a kit, etc. Can we really take Windclan here as canon with so many errors?

okay this is probably the last ask on this i'm going to answer. there's one more in my inbox already but there's about a 95% chance i delete any new ones because guys i just do Not care that much.

like. oh no. shrewclaw is listed but we know he's supposed to be dead. rip. guess i'll just throw out a whole list of mentors and apprentices and confirmed other cats because of an error i can easily correct.

warriors has had allegiance errors since into the wild. it's part of Life. it's part of how this shit works. and like. i know intimately how many errors there are. probably more than most people complaining about the mistakes in leopardstar's honour.

usually i wouldn't feel comfortable saying something like that but how many of you have gone through every single allegiance from tallstar's revenge to the darkest hour to check how old every cat is.

mistakes happen. i don't speak on the erins and editors without hard evidence, so i won't speculate on how or why they occurred. i don't care.

because the thing is: the two chapters i read were absolutely amazing. some of the best canon warriors content i've read since...hnng probably since crookedstar's promise? crookedstar's promise ranks really high on my "well-written super editions" list.

i would literally rather have 0 allegiances and excellent writing than perfect allegiances.

and i think that's. if people are upset because they feel like the editors don't care, that's understandable. like it's not that i don't understand why people are upset. i do understand why. i can trace the reasoning.

however, it just feels like bad-faith criticism because what we got in the actual content of the book was so good.

maybe they didn't proofread the allegiances. i don't care, because what i read of the actual book was good.

and again, none of this is to say that you can't be upset about the allegiances. none of this is to say you're wrong to be upset about the allegiances. i'm sure, several months from now, when i'm trying to write a scene set in the leopardstar's honour timeline, i'll be cursing out the mistakes myself.

however, to equate allegiances with the actual content, to act like the allegiances are in any way reflective of the actual quality of the book, just does not make any sense to me.

maybe y'all should start skipping allegiances like me?

(also "stonefur's death isn't interesting" anon i'm still fucking pissed at you.)

so yeah. that's my final take. if you want to talk about allegiances in like. what do i think about the mentors for tallstar's younger siblings? or whatever other new info we got. that's fine. but if you just want to complain about them. there are better blogs for that.

like there are people who would Want to discuss this. and i think it's best for everyone if you go talk to them. because all that's left in me atm is anger.

my patience on this has been worn thin after i said "hey reading this made me cry [because it was so good]" and someone came in with "yeah no it was boring" because God Forbid i think a scene that made me Cry due to the emotions is more interesting than a list of cat names.

[winterxisxcomingx]

Drama time! (just making sure that people will be able to see my point of view of this drama)

Well, it’s not my fault. I didn’t want to add drama on my blog and honestly, I didn’t want to make another post for it but that lovely person @disneyfemslash & her main account @cancersyndrom had made me do it by deleting my responses under their post and then blocking me.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway, here is a link to the post on her blog and here is a link to my reblog where I already changed text (bc their post made me realize that it can make some people feel uncomfortable and I write there word “edited” to let people know that I’m not just hiding my mistakes or I’m afraid of consequences. It’s just that I realized my mistake and I wanted to fix it.)

That’s what I wrote and that is what she wrote in reblog. Lovely. But, u know, I get that. Even tho she used “fuck” in an aggressive tone, even tho she wrote “what is your damage”, even tho she implied that I'm a pedo or perv or as if  I wrote it about real 16 yo, I wasn’t mad. I commented on her post. I wanted to clear things and let her know that she’s wrong. That I didn’t mean anything sexual. I let her knew my point of view.

I think it could be kinda mean of me, but that’s the truth? I saw that scene (3:09 - 3:15) in Brave. Looking in google I found this “Traditionally, men would not wear any underwear while wearing a kilt - and many still don't.“ From this site. So, I’ve may not think too much about it (because it was only a joke, no second thoughts, just a silly joke that I made because I remember that scene from Merida) and just straight thought that girls, women also do not wear underwear. That literally was my way of thinking and how and why I wrote what I wrote. I didn’t think about anything sexual, just a silly joke based on Scottish people. I already checked, I was wrong, most women (when they actually have to wear a kilt) have to wear panties. My bad. But like I said, I really didn’t mean anything erotic or sexual or.. or I don’t know what exactly that person was thinking that I wrote there.

And here is her answer and then mine:

Like I said in the comments, I still don’t understand what she meant by her first comment. I ignored it even because I thought it’s another person who is just going to be rude to me. But then she send another one and I realized that it’s her main account. Anyway, I think we all can agree that in her first comment, her intention was to be rude to me and again imply that I am some perv or something (again talking about panties and that she doesn’t want to know what I'm thinking <??? I guess? She never explained what she meant>, probably telling me to stop talking <???> and at the end, she called me a “freak, babe”). It looks as she didn’t even read what I wrote or just didn’t care. Because she thinks that I’m a perv, so if she thinks that, then it’s true and the other person can talk, explain, but she is the one who’s right. But’s it’s only a guess~.

And then, there is that lovely comment “once you annoy me there is no second chance”. Like, okay, sure? I don’t mind! Because I didn’t write my comments to beg for her forgiveness. I don’t need her approval. I just wanted to clear things. I just wanted to let know people, who will look at the post that @disneyfemslash wrongly interpreted my dialogue. It’s really all I wanted. But, I guess, she wanted people to think that she’s the hero in this story. Or something. I really don’t get it. 

And then I just asked her to delete that post (I mean reblog from me). I wanted this because I already said that whatever she thought I thought where writing this comment wasn’t right. She was wrong and I explain my way of thought. I just didn’t want people to think wrong of me, just because she assumed things. But she didn’t want to. 

But what’s wrong with talking in comments? Looking at our conversation it would be already the 6th reblog. And there is more. So what’s the point? Because tumblr will see her posts better if there will be more reblogs? That’s why? 

Here’s my response and yes, unfortunately. I kinda lost my patience here, ahaha. But, could you blame me? She is calling me names and implying things all the time and now, while I nicely asked her to delete the post, she rudely answered me, called me a coward, and imply that (I guess) I’m a perv because I don’t want to keep reblogging that post? That I want to hide what I wrote? Isn’t that ridiculous?

Anyway, here’s my response:

After that, she starts deleting my comments, because my next screenshots are just her comments with no trace of my comments. But that’s later. And here is her last comment and my reply (she didn’t see that I think because she already blocked me but I send this anyway). After that, I refreshed Tumblr and I realized that I was already blocked.

In the end, she really did not “give me a second chance” and keep thinking about me as some perv who likes panties of 16yo??? Oh well. I guess that she is just that kind of person who has to has the last word in the conversation. Anyway, here, how it looks now:

*Sigh* 

She probably won’t even see that, but if she did well... I don’t think that she would acknowledge her mistake or that people can be wrong or that she can be wrong sometimes. Just like that.

I saw that one post on her blog. She called all people who call The Beast by the name of Adam “the worst”. Someone reblogged, gave sources, screenshots just to let her know that Disney acknowledged fans' decision that The Beast’s name is Adam. And @disneyfemslash didn't acknowledge and just disrespected that person’s work. Lovely.

Even another person reminded her that her behavior was wrong. But she just blamed the other person again, not seeing her fault at all.

And that’s why, I don’t think that she will change her mind about me or just acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, rather than calling me names and implying things, she could just calmly talk with me in DM.

Here is just another example that cancersyndrome (disneyfemslash) just can’t accept that people can have other opinions. Other than her. And in the discussion, she just kept saying the same thing. And when she sees that she won’t win, she just starts (or even at the beginning of the discussion) calling other person names and assuming things and just being simply rude and toxic. 

But anyway, that’s all. I mean, I could also say something about @disneyfemslash shipping merelsa, a 21 (or 24 in the second movie) years old woman and 16 years old girl. Or I could remind her that she reblogged some posts that aren’t so pure. Like that one fanart with Jasmine (16) and Belle (19) in a sexual pose or edit with Jasmine (16) seducing Ariel (16).

But how would I do that? @disneyfemslash is a perfect, pure, innocent person, after all, who is always right and doesn’t give second chances! 

I hope things are clear now! 

[bearseungmin]

CONTENT CREATOR YEAR IN REVIEW

tagged by: @hanflix :’))) my love, rue!!! i love you so much!

tagging: @binniesthighs @milkym00n @dreamyhan @mochinnie @hanjizung @seungmoomin (if you’ve done this before please feel free to ignore this! :) ily) + anyone who sees this that hasn’t gotten to do it yet! tag me!!! i want to read into your world please this is fun to do i promise

NOTE: most of my works are nsfw. under 18 please do not interact with them.

1. first creation of 2020 and most recent creation of 2020 first creation: runaway, a lovely fluff + sci-fi! au about alien hyunjin running from his lab and finding solace inside of your bedroom. most recent creation: ironically another hyunjin drabble (he’s my kryptonite)! free with ads is a smut request by a lovely anon about hyunjin wanting to have fun during a movie night with skz! hard warnings btw, beware.

2. one of your favorite creations from 2020 the ricochet effect, although it’s not out yet! it’s an ot8 series, part per member/’choose your own’ vibe, and it’s already got me in my feels. the entire series is meant to have the message of “love does include sex, in a healthy way. you can experiment without being called names, learn from mistakes, and even (just maybe) find someone that you can share a little more time with. all while learning about yourself, and how to love yourself!” or at least i hope it comes across that way. :) it’s witty and has bits of actual advice i want to pass over to smut readers, all while still being fiction. i hope it turns out well.

3. a creation you’re really proud of imminent! it’s a long fic about wolfman! changbin. It’s completely based off the movie “the wolfman” from 2010 that i love substantially, (mainly because it starred benicio del toro, who i’m constantly inspired by) and sort of follows the lore of the film without being exactly like the film. i wrote it in two short sittings, and i’m completely proud of myself for coming up with a huge spin to the plot within like an hour before writing it. it’s also one of the only works of my own that i can read without cringing too lmaoo.

4. a creation that took you forever the ricochet effect, again! i currently have 4 out of 8 written, but it feels like it’ll be the year 3000 by the time i finish it, and i will not be living under water. i’ll be screaming at my wifi for going in and out and deleting what i’m writing. rip.

5. a creation from 2020 that received the most notes could listen to you read the dictionary is the highest of my notes right now! which, who doesn’t have a very specific felix’s voice kink? this was my first request on this blog, so i’ll cherish this drabble for a long time.

6. a creation you think deserved more notes before i swapped over to this blog from bearseokie i was doing a 1k drabble game/halloween drabble game, which brought two of my favorite drabbles to light! epitaph is a warlock! au smut that is centered around the idea that minho can make you see a few minutes into the future, and also bring you back to the now moment! vampire is a vampy! au (obviously) smut where you’ve come to love your human seungmin, and all he wants to do is join you in the life of immortality to make you feel less alone. bonus: for my harry potter/hogwarts! au lovers, stars is considerably underrated and is very cute! jisung is a ravenclaw, reader is a slytherin. could i make it any more obvious?

7. a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it i’m still a baby stay, so stray kids! i have a tendency to listen to a group’s music for months on end before i even get into the members and knowing their history. but when i got into skz holy shit you’d think i had an epiphany, these dudes are insanely talented and i am so sorry i slept on getting to know them. i’m just going to link my entire m.list since that’s what stanning them has brought out! masterlist!

8. a creation you made that breaks your heart words to me, definitely. the idea of being around soulmate! chan is enough to make anyone weak, but the lights in each other’s eyes put together form a diamond to tell you both that you’re soulmates? i’m on the floor, i hardly even remember writing that bit but it’s in there and i’m going awooga right now.

9. a ‘simple’ creation you really love 11:47 took my brain cells and ran with them. fuckbuddy! hyunjin is always on my mind, but damn if me writing this out didn’t electrify those thoughts by a thousand.

10. a creation that was inspired by another one beat it to the door was inspired by daniel sloss’ comedy special “X” (it is highly mature content and possibly triggering content btw pls look into it before watching if you do!!!) inside one of his jokes he was speaking about how sex is bound to happen to everyone, and can be under any circumstance. while listing things you could have sex during or between, he joked “order a pizza, see if you can beat it to the door.” and my brain went: chan. so welcome to how my brain works!

11. a favorite creation by someone else i love all of the recs under my tag #during.dawn.bookshelf, but oh do i know how many works i have yet to read and i know will shake me to my core. i honestly cannot choose any specific works off the top of my head, so instead i am just going to link my skz writer recs lists so you can see all the people i adore + who inspire me every (and i mean Every) day! skz writer recs: list one, list two, list three

12. some of your favorite content creators from this year where do i even start, okay: @hanflix​ - can make you cry and be horny at the same time? wtf rue. i came here for fun and now you’re making me Feel Emotions Through Your Writing That I Have Yet To Feel In Real Life Mom Pick Me Up Rue Is Too Talented. read rue’s works or you will regret it. @mikoto-ica-fics​ - i would be lying my sweet ass off if i said mica isn’t the explicit reason i made this blog. her works will literally (Literally) send you into another dimension and make you fall in love with skz all over again. @nightshade-minho​ - mika mika mika let me announce that i love mika, mika’s writing (so much that you make me genuinely excited to write), and mika’s aesthetically pleasing blog. the best “let me dip my toe into the water (aka mlist) and see what happens oh no i’m in it now and it’s 5 a.m how did i get here.” you’ll ever experience. @binniesthighs​ - if you’ve ever asked the question: where can i get some good fucking food (skz fluff & smut) around here? see ro! @dreamyhan​ - why is hazel everywhere, and how did i not find her sooner? how is hazel so talented? i ask these questions on a regular basis. @mochinnie​ - you’ll never be bored if you know isa’s @. everything she does is so neat, pretty, aesthetic, astounding, talented, beautiful, amazing, etc of what lady gaga says in that one meme which fits isa way too well. there are SO MANY skz writers i could go on about like this, so please please please check out the skz writers recs list above!!! i’m still adding to it as time goes on :) if you weren’t specifically mentioned here, just know i will find your blog and i will fall in love with you. this is a threat.