#please read this I need the validation
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aspen1439 · 1 month ago
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crippled-peeper · 4 months ago
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How you speak down on people and how frequently you repost raging at people, how often you feel the need to defend yourself tells me everything I need to know about you. You could easily block people and be done but you feel the need to make it this whole dramatic display for the stage that is tumblr. It’s quite sad to see you struggle to narrate your life as happy and successful in a way that’s not through other people validation on posts online.
“Its quite sad to see you struggle to narrate your life as happy and successful in a way that’s not through other people validation posts online”
I applied for disability in 2021. I did not see a judge until literally last week (it is currently August 2024.) in that time I have been:
Physically attacked, neglected by medical staff, threatened by the police, abused by my family
I have been homeless, I have lived on my friends couch while recovering from major surgery, I have started over with nothing, 3000 miles away from every person I’m related to,
I have been disowned by people I considered friends, disowned by extended relatives, and my mother fucking DIED last year, relatively not old, of COVID ….
… and you think I’m unhappy, because, what? I don’t get enough notes on tumblr? I don’t have your personal, total approval, a total stranger? That not every random fuck online like me? That people dont agree with the posts I write?
That’s so fucking funny. I hope you glue you balls to your butthole and can’t take a shit for so long it kills you
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honkshoo-zzz · 7 months ago
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i didn’t wanna draw more saxwell,,,.,, but the parasites wanted to draw more saxwell.,…,…….
anyways go read my saxwell fic Don’t Go on AO3 :)
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flowercrowngods · 11 months ago
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man some of y’all are really out here doing fandom events like #SteddieLoveMonth and writing fic every day just busting out that quality content for free and providing us with love and care and safety and spice and just a free load of emotions while life is genuinely crazy out there like fuck me some of y’all are really out here writing thousands of words and preserving a little humanity in your creations of love it’s so awe inspiring and i think more of y’all need to feel (and share!!) some of this insane gratitude and awe
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herlondonboy · 2 years ago
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Hidden
Pairings: Wednesday Addams x gn!telekinetic reader
Summary: sometimes hidden things shine the brightest
Warnings: blood, Xavier, R just wants to murder somebody, nothing really happens, i wrote this during Chemistry an hour ago, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything.
Word Count: 0.7k
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Most people agree that if you have to hide a relationship, you shouldn’t be in it. You thought you’d agree too, but something about hiding was just so appealing to you. Maybe it was the challenge that you like - forcing yourself to keep your hands off of her when around others, sneaking around, lying.
‘thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour’
Then why was it so fun? Why was wait so painful and yet beautiful?
The longer the wait, the sweeter the kiss, you told yourself. The longer you spent away, the better the nights together were. You lived for them. And quite frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted more than what you had right now. This was enough: wanting, waiting, getting.
The way her cold, slender fingers twitched against your neck when you kissed her. How she would pretend to not want to kiss you, when she wanted it more than you did. Her cocky smirk whenever you’d come pleading to her.
For some unknown reason, you loved being hidden. You adorned your illicit love affair. It was Wednesday’s idea, keeping it hidden. At first you wanted to scream it from the rooftops, ‘I’m in love with Wednesday Addams!’ But then it wouldn’t be just yours.
This love, if that’s what you could call it anymore, was just yours and you wanted to keep it that way. Wednesday was just yours. And vice versa, of course.
But then there was a problem that came with the secrets.
The wanton from outside parties.
Fucking Tyler and Xavier. You hated them.
How were those brainless beings supposed to shower her in the love that she deserved? They could barely keep themselves together, you saw it. How Tyler would falter whenever you and Wednesday walked into the Weathervane, and how Xavier would show off his powers in the middle of your botany lessons in an attempt to impress her.
“Stop it.” Her voice was harsh, making you pull your glare away from Tyler. It didn’t help that he had kept on coming over to your table to refill Wednesday’s quad over ice. He didn’t even spare a glance at you, Wednesday’s tutee.
Then, much to your look, Xavier walked in.
He waltzed right over like he owned the place, putting his hands onto your shoulders like a condescending parent, “y/n, do you mind if I speak to Wednesday for a second?”
Your jaw clenched and your eyes twitched, “Thorpe, if you don’t remove your hands, you won’t have them anymore,” You would’ve kept to your threat if it wasn’t for Wednesday’s look.
Xavier’s hands were forced up against his will and he punched himself twice, making you smile at Wednesday, who rolled her eyes.
“Xavier, I’m tutoring y/n, you imbecile, I’m busy,” She didn’t bother to motion to the worksheets or notebooks, anyone with eyes could see them.
You thought of the faceless students, and how much more bearable Xavier would be if he was one of them. The school wouldn’t have to hear his incessant ranting of how much he hated his father.
Teenage angst sucks.
Xavier just held his now-bleeding nose with wide eyes, not processing Wednesday’s words, “You bi-“ His words were cut off when he no longer had the ability to open his mouth.
You turned around with a glare, “Do not mess with me, Thorpe. If I really wanted to, I could squeeze the breath out of your lungs,” Xavier began to breathe heavily through his nose in search of more oxygen, sputtering when a large amount of his blood started forming a sphere in front of his eyes, “Or drain you of every last drop of blood in your body.”
“Hey!” A barista yelled out, pointing a finger at you, “No powers.”
You smirked at Xavier, turning to face Wednesday and releasing your hold on him.
Wednesday didn’t look amused in the slightest, so your smirk dropped. But then you felt a tap and saw Thing hand you a piece of paper.
I’m yours, y/n.
It read in swooping, sloping, cursive letters. You looked up and met Wednesday’s stoic eyes with a crooked smile.
And though most would argue that Wednesday’s eyes eyes held no emotion, you would argue that they held all of them. Just because they were hidden, didn’t mean that they weren’t there.
Just because your relationship is hidden, doesn’t mean that it’s not there.
Your relationship was Sirius, hidden by the light pollution that was Nevermore’s ignorance.
You wore Wednesday’s love like an ostentatious piece of jewellery, but it was hidden beneath your shirt. The outline was there, begging people to look at it, but it didn’t shine, so no one cared for it.
But that didn’t matter because after all, Wednesday was just yours.
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youling-the-ghost · 3 months ago
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After a month of procrastination hard work, chapter 3 of To Be Loved (And to Be In Love) is finally finished!!
This is Old Lady Margaery's debut in my fic so that's pretty neat.
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oddball08 · 8 months ago
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Metal Chairs and Glass Windows | Konig
A mission gone wrong. That's what he would call it later when they were both found. They wouldn’t say a word to anyone about it. Some things can't be erased, no matter what you do. This is extremely violent and disgusting and full of angst. I mean there is some truly disgusting torture in this. I recommend that viewers are +18. If you are triggered easily, please leave. Ultimately, I can't control your actions but know that I've warned you and cannot be held accountable if you choose to read this.
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WARNING R@pe, murder, torture, Su!cide, just some really triggering stuff WARNING
Dimly lit damp hallways seemingly stretched on forever as two bodies were dragged from a heavily secured truck and into the building, descending steps covered in mold and mildew. Neither responded as their gear dragged and scraped across the floor, weapons slowly being discarded and thrown on the ground for someone to later pick up. 
A mission gone wrong. That's what he would call it later when they were found. They wouldn’t say a word to anyone about it. 
König slowly woke up after an unknown amount of time, eyes adjusting to the darkness as he stayed still, knowing he was in danger due to the new settings and cuffs tied tightly around his wrists and ankles– in a different circumstance he would deem this kinky and laugh it off– but this time was different. 
He could feel the presence in the room with him, ominously waiting for him to make a move, knowing that the deadly man was currently defenseless. König knew a few things were very wrong, first off being that this was supposed to be an easy in-and-out mission, just to make sure that a camp they had already taken down was empty. It seemed as though it was in fact not empty; second being he had no idea where they were. His partner, his friend, his longtime comrade who was so close to being discharged. Just two more weeks. They weren’t even supposed to be going on this mission, but agreed on the terms that it would be the last mission they did with him. 
Everything suddenly got so messed up, they were doing fine, walking along the dirt path, almost finished with their round when König’s partner had screamed at them to get down as bullets flew, everything went black, then he was in a chair. 
Anxiety coursed through König, tensing his muscles as he tried to keep his body slack and breathing even. He had years of military training backing him up, so did his partner, they would be okay. He had to hope that they were okay. 
"Welcome back,” The presence circled around König until he was in front of him, revealing a tall man head to toe in black, weapons strapped to him, many more in places he couldn’t see König knew. “I’m glad to see you woke up. I thought for a while my guys had messed up and gave you the wrong dosage.” He smiled at the words, and it made something disgusting curl up into König’s stomach, curling around his lungs and squeezing them just tight enough for him to know it was a looming panic attack.
“Where am I?” König’s nostrils flared as he looked up, finally meeting the eyes of his capture; heart clenching more at the sight of the mask they usually wear laying on his face, the bottom half broken, and blood smeared across the rough cracks. “Where are they.”
“You don’t really think I’m going to tell you that do you? Although, I will say that your little friend is in the room across the hall. You’ll be joining them soon, don't you worry. ” The words didn’t feel reassuring.
“I brought you here for a very specific reason, mostly because I’m a petty bitch, but also because your organization fucked up my entire plan. Millions would be gone; I would have won . Instead, your team had to come and fuck everything up. Kill us, steal from us. We plan to take it back tenfold.”
He pauses as a loud bang is heard, echoing through the room as the light flickers a few times. When the man looks back at König, his smile is more tense than it was before, and König feels a brief flicker of hope before the screaming starts.
He knows those screams; he had heard those screams only two times before. Once when his partner had been holding the new recruit, dead in their arms, only eighteen. And the second when they had been shot in the shoulder, shattering their shoulder blade.
König’s blood runs cold, adrenaline rushing through his veins as a thin veil of sweat covers his skin, making the fabric of his mask stuffy. 
“It seems my comrade decided to start without me. Pity really.” The man goes behind König once more, scraping something metal against the cement floor and raises it above his head. “Night night.” 
König awakes once more with a start, blistering pain pounding in his head as a migraine begins to form. “Welcome back sleeping beauty.” The man's voice is cheerful, and he now has a bottle of beer in his hand as he relaxes back against the chair he’s sitting in. “Woke up right in time for the show.” He grins maliciously and points his beer forwards to gesture for König to look over at the glass window they were sitting in front of.
König’s breath caught and the pain in his chest came back at the sight of his partner sitting naked on the metal chair, legs spread as liquid slowly dripped down their somewhat murky legs and the twisted legs of the chair.
Their face was knocked back as they laid unconscious, blood slowly oozing out of their calf half, mixing with the milky substance and pooling around the metal of the cuffs on their ankles and down onto the cement floor.
König felt like vomiting, disgusted at the sight. Who would do this to someone? Had they been awake for it all? 
Another man stepped into the room, grinning over at the glass as he made a circle with his hands, rutting his hips forward towards the glass to indicate what he was about it do. 
“No!” König yelled, louder than he’s ever remembered yelling as he began fighting against the cuffs on the chair, just noticing the rope tied around his waist, securing him from moving too much.
“Scream as loud as you want,” The man sitting next to him said, having waited until König had stopped his screaming to speak, lifting the beer to take a swig of it. “They can’t hear ya’.”
König really thought he was going to vomit this time as the man in the room unbuckled his jeans, letting them fall to the ground before he turned the chair sideways; giving the two men outside of the room the perfect side profile of the events that were about to occur. The man slapped his partner's cheek a few times before shrugging and simply shoving two fingers inside their mouth, swirling it around before holding it open and shoving his cock in, groaning at the feeling as he knocked his head back. 
He wasted no time in quickly thrusting, chasing his own high, not caring whether or not they woke up to find their mouth being molested. It’s a few more minutes of König painfully watching as his partner is degraded, completely unaware of it all as they’re dead to the world, chair creaking as the man speeds up before gripping onto his partner's hair tightly, tugging as he stops his hips. He pulls out, looking down at them with a sneer before spitting in their mouth, shoving their head down as much as it would allow to let the cum and spit drop out, preventing them from choking. 
The man pulls up his pants before turning to the window, giving a mocking bow, “Left ‘em alive, as you asked, Sir.” The statement is more condescending than anything as he exits the room, leaving behind König’s partner, head lulled forward as liquid drips down their chin and onto their bare chest. 
“Wasn’t that a good show?” The man sitting next to König slaps his hand onto his knee, giving a cheer for the disgusting events that just occurred.
“You’re sick ,” König growls, fists clenching so hard against the chair he was in that he could feel his short fingernails begin to break.
“Ah uh,” The man puts a finger up and tsk’s, “Not sick, purely angry. Revenge is rather sweet, wouldn't you say?” 
“I don’t sugar.” König counters, and the man simply smiles gleefully at the remark.
“And I have a sweet tooth, crazy that. Now watch the rest of the show.” 
Another man enters this time, different from the last. He smiles up at the window, giving a salute. He turns around and pulls out a rolling table with needles on it and sends a quick smile towards the mirror once more before putting on silicone medical gloves. He grabs a syringe, tapping it a few times before placing it onto König’s partner's arm, distributing it quickly before grabbing another one. 
“Flumazenil and Naloxone,” The man next to König confirms, “Man's best friend let me tell ya’.”
The man takes off his gloves and puts the table back into the corner of the room where he had grabbed it from and left the room. Leaving a tense silence, anguish resting in the air as the seconds ticked by. 
Eventually, König could see their body twitch on the other side of the window, then slowly their head lifted up to reveal tear filled eyes. “Fuck.” The swore, spitting onto the ground before knocking their head back against the back of the metal chair, seemingly not caring about the loud bang emanating from it. 
Their chest began to heave as a woman entered the room this time, a mask covering the bottom half of her face. She stood tall and regal, afro pulled up into perfection, making her look innocent if it weren’t for the knife she held in her hand. 
“Ello las,” She greeted in a low Scottish drawl, smiling as she made her way over to her target. “‘Ow ‘ave the boys been treatin’ ya’?” She looked down at their still open legs and tsk’ed, slowly circling them with the dull side of the knife to their neck. König could see the anxiety in their eyes as they tried to breath as shallowly as possible, knowing it was the dull side of the knife but still not wanting to be cut by the woman in front of them.
A small trail of blood begins trailing down their collarbone as the woman cuts, before sliding back to look at her work. “Real beauty, shame to see it go ta’ waste. Might just carve ma’ name into ya’. You’d like that, yeah?” 
König clenches his teeth at the sound of their whispers, desperate pleas to please stop leaving their mouth like a prayer. The woman smiles at this and cups their cheek, wiping away the tears that were now openly falling down their cheeks. 
“Don’t cry love, only gonna hurt a lil’.” She smiles a twisted smile before getting on her knees, going in between their legs to scoot as close to them as possible, making a quick Knick at the bottom of their chest, center of the ribcage, and one at the lower stomach, right above the faint happy trail. 
König sees them hiss out at the feeling before they open their mouth in a silent scream as her knife cuts, about a centimeter if König had to guess, a long line drawn out diagonally, “K,” She holds the letter as she continues to drag the other two lines across before pulling back slightly and laughing at the sight. 
She continues on slowly, singing each letter she carves until a full name is spelled. Seven letters in total, over twenty minutes of excruciating pain before the woman pulls back, standing back onto her heels. Kendall.
“Beautiful.” She drags a finger across their stomach, digging a nail in a little before bringing it up to the light, looking pleased at the blood coating her finger. “Aye boss? Mind if I do somethin’ real quick?” 
“Sure,” The man sitting next to König nods, and the woman smiles, rocking onto her heels, “Just don’t kill them.” 
She shrugs, a playful smile on her face. “It probably won’t. ‘Least not for a while.” 
König’s partner has gone back to sobbing, eyes squeezed shut as their legs shake, whimpers leaving their mouth every few seconds as the knife slowly trails up their legs. 
They don’t have any idea what’s going on, so far gone at this point to comprehend anything behind the pain, but they know it's bad. 
The woman plunges the small knife up the hole between the crevice of their thighs, her manic laughing mixing with their screams of anguish, voice breaking as they squeeze their eyes shut and nod their head back and forth, legs violently shaking. 
König squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he could block the noise out as he turns his head to the side, not willing to see his partner in such pain. The man sitting next to him grips his chin roughly, jerking it back so Konig is face right towards the window. “Open your eyes now or I order her to kill them.” The man whispers into König’s ear, making the male's eyes fly open. 
Years of military training couldn’t prepare him for the pain of seeing this, his mental walls tumbling down as the first tear broke the dam for the rest to fall down, not making a sound as his partner continued to scream, screaming at the woman in front of then to stop, begging for mercy. 
She stands, ripping the knife out of their hole and placing a quick, mocking kiss to their cheek before skipping out of the room, appearing at the doorway next to the room König and the man were currently sitting in, a smile still plastered on her face. “So, he’s the lucky one, aye?” 
“Indeed.” The man next to him nods, standing from his spot with a groan, stretching his hands above his head. “Seems to have messed him up. Hasn’t talked shit in a good hour or so.” He jerked his head over to where König sat staring blankly at his partner, who was currently still sobbing, whole body shaking, thankfully their crying was beginning to quiet. 
“Imma go in with her next, watch him, ‘kay?” The man doesn’t wait for a response as he grabs the gun from the table next to where König sat. König hadn’t even noticed that was there, to preoccupied with watching his partner endure the endless torture that they had not been prepared for in training. 
The woman glanced over König, scanning his form before taking a few quick strides over to him and plopping herself onto his lap. “That was one, innit?” She places her head on König’s shoulder, ripping the mask off his face. König feels bare without it, the thought of someone seeing him without it on would normally send his nerves through the roof, but all he could do at the moment was blankly stare at where is partner now sat silently in the chair, chest rising shallowly their head dropped down to their chest.
“Ya’ a pretty one, aren’t ya’?” She runs a finger down his cheek, “Wonder what I could do with ya’ before ‘e finishes with ‘er.” König closes his eyes as he sees the man who had been sitting next to him for hours enter the room, malice in his eyes with a cheerful look on his face.
“How are you faring?” The man asks, using the gun to tilt their head up. “This is what you get for stealing.” 
“I didn’t take anything.” They whimper, “I’m not a thief.” 
The man's face curls up in disgust as he raises the gun, shooting their shoulder with no hesitation. The same shoulder König remembers them screaming about before. 
They don’t scream this time.
An unknown amount of time later, König sat slack against the chair, eyes blinking slowly as the woman giggled maniacally on his lap, his pants pulled back to his knees as he stared at his partner, eyes glazed over as he looked over the two new shots, a large pile of blood pooling on the ground.
They weren’t making any noises this time outside of small whimpers, barely lifting their head up to breath anymore.
“HANDS IN THE AIR!” König recognizes Price’s voice yell into the room, his unit trailing in behind him before he gestures to Ghost and Soap to handle the woman and König while he and a few others deal with the man in the room, currently oblivious to what was happening. 
“Oh no,” The woman pouts, “I guess our time is over then, huh?” She lifts her hands up, and Soap promptly slaps the knife out of the woman's hands, cuffing her as Ghost pats König’s cheek harshly. 
“König,” He says, and the sound echoes within König’s ears. “König, pay attention to me. Are you hurt?” König thinks he manages to shake his head, because Ghost’s eyes shine with worry as he lifts König’s large body up and carried him out of there. 
König winces as he’s met with a harsh light of a sunrise. 
A new day.
König can hear Price and Ghost’s hushed whispers from outside his hospital room, and he knows what happened. He knows they couldn’t have made it from the looks of how much blood they lost. 
He felt so fucking pathetic. If he had just listened to their warning sooner, noticed the sniper sooner, they wouldn’t be in this situation at all.
Their whispers stop and Ghosts enters his room, silently clicking the door shut behind him. “How are you doing?” He questions. König doesn’t speak, he hasn’t spoken to anyone in the four days he’s been lying in this hospital bed. He’s so tired.
The nurses took away his TV remote when he had turned it up so loud it was blaring on the floors above and below him, hoping if he got it loud enough he would be able to block out the sounds of their screaming and her laughter. 
Ghost sighs, having expected König to be unresponsive. “They’re not dead…in surgery actually. We don’t know much as of yet. But I know that it’s going to be a long one. Longer than anyone you or I have had to endure.” 
König feels a tear fall. He hates himself for it, he hates that he's showing this much weakness. He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be deadly. He was supposed to protect them. 
Ghost places a firm hand on König’s shoulder, squeezing lightly before exiting the room, his arm reaching up to hug around Soap’s shoulder, leaning his head to the side to give a slight reassuring bonk before he closes the door, blocking König out from the world once more.
“We gather here today to mourn the loss of a soldier, a friend, a family member, a partner. They were so much, fighting until the very end.” The old man says, the light shining down on his holy white robes seemed mocking to König, who stood at the back of the crowd, standing with Ghost on one side and Soap on the other. “They will be missed. Know that they have moved onto a better place, lifted higher above, and are no longer in pain.” He said a quick prayer before placing a white rose on the flag covered coffin. 
The others followed behind one by one, until König stood at the front of the line, looking directly into the photo of them smiling, the photo being only from a few months ago, arms over the shoulders of their closest friends. König’s own smile mocks him as he stares. 
Ghost gently urges him forward and König snaps his sight back onto the coffin, now covered in white roses. He clenches his jaw and swallows, willing the tears back.
It seemed to König that all he did nowadays was cry. People believed that he was so unstable that they made him go on mandatory leave. Ghost and Soap heading over with meals at least twice a week, forcing König to eat something and shower. 
Price was forcing him to go to therapy, stating he wouldn’t allow him back if he didn’t. König didn’t see why it would help, all his therapist did was yap the whole time while he stayed silent, counting down the minutes until the session was over. 
König placed the rose on top of their coffin, making their death somehow feel more final than it was before, despite knowing that he had watched the escalation of it happening right before his eyes. 
He turned away from the grave and walked away, not being able to bare the sight of the grave going down.
_______________________________________
Five months later he himself was brought down. The fresh gravestone with his name on it right next to theirs.
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just wanted to point out if anyone comes at me for this being bland this was personally triggering for me while writing this so like shut up?
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feelingsaph · 1 year ago
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To anyone who's a swiftie and watches Saiki K, don't you think Kubosai is so Reputation coded??? They've got that rugged exterior but a soft and quiet kinda love on the inside.
And they've both got big reputations (that they're tryna flee lol)
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violencewithwings · 1 year ago
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another-supernova-girl · 1 month ago
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After the underwhelmingly tepid response to my newest piece of writing, with really just one exception so far (all my love and appreciation to you - you know who you are), I'm going to try to write more for myself again, like I was when I started my main Cooper multi-chapter, and my Wyatt multi-chapter. I am going to write the requests I have still, but I doubt I'll be taking any more, at least not in the same "send me asks" way. I really thought putting out some Cooper writing with smut would spark more interest, but somehow it's doing even worse than I could have imagined (with, again, the one exception so far).
So...I'm going to try to focus more on writing what makes *me* happy, instead of trying to please people who only want the same bundle-of-tropes/kinks situation over and over, and if people don't enjoy it as much...those people probably weren't engaging anyway ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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giantkillerjack · 1 year ago
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The cool thing about a horror movie that takes place in a mental hospital and, shockingly, actually turns out to be on the side of mentally ill people is that it avoids all the common disgusting pitfalls of mocking, demonizing, and infantilizing mentally ill people.
The downside is
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
[It's much scarier.]
#original#smile movie#smile 2022#I'm literally two scenes in#it could definitely become ableist by the end of the movie but I'm kind of obsessed so far?#like nothing is scarier to me than the lack of quality help and validation available to victims of trauma! and this movie is LEANING INTO IT#which is way scarier and also way truer and more important to talk about than a looney bin filled with lunatics who want to murder you#like that's literally a concept based solely on people's ableist fears.#same with horror movie monsters that are just people with facial deformities or congenital disorders or just... people who are poor#(the hillbilly cannibal trope is just MAN POOR PEOPLE ARE SCARY HUH. it's garbage.)#what's ACTUALLY a horror is the way these people are treated! and that INCLUDES how they are portrayed in media!#because guess what? ghosts aren't real and an abandoned mental hospital can't hurt you#but you know what can? a doctor who doesn't believe you. a system built on neglect. THAT'S the horror we need to talk about.#and THAT is why I am going to have to watch this movie in short installments over a few days#and let me be clear: i am alive today bc of a mental hospital's IOP/PHP program. i stopped being suicidal after YEARS bc of that program#mental hospitals CAN and SHOULD be GOOD THINGS ACTUALLY. but in countries with shitty healthcare that's very hard to find.#it is also why it is my life's work to build a treatment center that PROVES we can do this ethically and with compassion#life is worth living#and the American Healthcare industry can die just the same as any other giant or dragon. empires have fallen before. it is not immortal.#YOU reading this matter. stay safe. please. it isn't the end yet. i love you.
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bunnakit · 1 year ago
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“Hia,” Yok whispered, breathless and begging and it ignited something in Gumpa’s chest as he lowered to his elbows and stroked his left hand down Yok’s side, thumb gently rubbing against the protrusion of his hip bone. He felt as if he cradled the sun between his palms, an effervescent ball of light and warmth that was almost blinding in its brilliance. He knew better than to covet the sun, than to fly with wax wings and plummet to the Earth, but his heart was long beyond reason. If he was only allowed to hold the sun for a single night, to press his lips to its searing warmth for a fleeting moment, then he hoped the sun remembered him fondly as he faded to ash.  anyway go read my gumpayok time loop fic and eventually we'll get to this point
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outeremissary · 2 months ago
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3 and 4 from the ask list? or any that'd you'd be excited to answer?
Thank you Alistair!!! I have done my best but this has made me remember I am. Highly incoherent trying to explain why music sticks to things in my brain. I hope. Something gets through here.
[prompt list]
This went under a cut because I, writing this late at night, also got out of control wordy. Not my best stringing thoughts together
3) What song describes your OC?
I have many ungodly OC playlists but because this is dealer's choice I need to show you the song that has been RUINING MY LIFE over Kasander for the past week and a half, the week and a half it has been out there, sorry
youtube
(if the spotify thing turns out fucked up sorry I'm not fixing it I do Not understand that website)
At the very least, paladin DUrge is clear cut here I think. Kasander has this bright spark of hope to them, this optimism about the world and joy in existing in it, that's constantly at war with the reality that they actually exist in- the skin they live in, the person they are.
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You can see it. It is clear.
The song just conveys a whole arc (which is of course for the character of Don Quixote, amnesiac vampire, in the game it's actually from) that for me really really maps onto Kasander's over the course of BG3. Especially recovering the understanding of their actual reality, because Kasander starts the game certain from what little information they have that they are a paladin and must be a Hero and a Good Person and it does break them a little to know that they were the furthest thing from that and parts of them still cling to that existence. But there's also that movement towards acceptance, assimilating the harsh truth and still maintaining a sense of identity. And this repeated line near the end stands out to me as well.
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To me the real character breakthrough they have post-amnesia isn't really that they become a Good Person, it's that for the first time in their life they become able to see themself in their entirety, with all their conflicting desires and experiences. There are parts of them they don't understand and which frighten them, and also some of those initially incomprehensible parts have given them the ability to move forward in a life of hardship. Asperia could never accept those paradoxes, was too afraid of them to begin to untangle them. And that's why Asperia could never see herself completely- it was too terrifying to imagine that a part of him was "Kasander" and held so many forbidden desires and urges. To see themself and embrace themself- the parts of them that are Kasander, that are Asperia, that are neither- that's the self-actualization baby!!!!!! Or the beginning, at least. This is such a waving my hands wildly Understand My Vision but like. Understand my vision. If you do not know Kasander that's okay the song is perfect it all makes sense here just listen to the song it will all be clear
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(kas quixote to back my words)
4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?
Okay back to Kingmaker. Although Sarenrae it's hard to actually narrow this down because 1) the playlist is Long and 2) in 2020 it seemed like a great idea to organize it chronologically and that makes it Weird to pick out any one thing as the Definitive Song. Genius move, past me.
Anyway this might be an Insane Pick vibes wise out of everything but it's a good one for pulling lyrics without having to endlessly contextualize in timeline
yes I know it's seven minutes long.
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*points* understand my vision. you know. it's like. you know.
But more importantly, this chorus
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Like there's really a big like. Core of it to me. That they aren't really alike in a lot of ways, but that they kind of come to see each other and for each to understand the precarious position the other stands in. The unbalanced sense of self, the pull of so many obligations, so many masks. And I guess to me there's something very precious about having someone who releases you from the obligation to have the right desires, even if you don't share them.
I guess a lot of that also comes to my read on Tristian, which I know not everyone shares- I see Tristian as strongly driven by a need to align sense of ideal self with actual self. As we meet them, Tristian is a failed angel in the most literal sense, having lost their supernatural status entirely. But like... before that, Tristian still had a sense of needing to be someone/being owed recognition as something that they were not. The desire for recognition as an exceptional person and as a hero and as something above their station- it's both striving higher than they stood and also sinking beneath what they're meant to be, because that hubris has an impurity to it. Being an angel, being an angel in a particular way, feeling like they exist in the world wrong, and then having that snatched away again and being confronted with the starkest ways they fail to exist as an "angel" in any way.... I'm compelled by the way humanity clings to Tristian. Human ambitions, human follies, human failures, human desperations for safety and glory and acknowledgement. The release from the need to pretend at humanity or to exist as a perfect angel. That's what I mean.
I feel like I do so much Balthazar posting that the opposite is probably pretty obvious, but like- and this is some story arc thing- also in reverse, the understanding that Balthazar is not, never has been, and does not desire to be an angel, something that many people have refused to see in him. That he clings desperately to what is petty and mortal and flawed in himself and makes a shield out of his ugliest pieces, and also that the need to define himself against his heritage has slowly carved away at what he feels he can be, whether he realizes it or not. He has a brightness that's his own, a vivacity that peeks through the layers of performance and sometimes makes them real. And there's not any reason to change to nurture that. It's always there, it's always been there. It just goes unseen.
Anyway this stuff about hidden pieces and the public eye vs. the private self, this is what I mean with it. The not changing. Not becoming someone else. That it's enough to see and accept and see again. Thumbs up
I was going to put a more fun and tonally appropriate song at the end as the extra thing but actually I saw this out of the corner of my eye and needed to be Deeply Unserious instead
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This is. Not representative of the playlist I think. Good god
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starbuck · 11 months ago
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crazy how i can be so stressed and upset and then suddenly i remember that *I* am in control of my emotions and then i can physically breathe the stress out of me and i’m fine.
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devour-the-rude · 10 months ago
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Anywho, enough sad things, time to return to your regularly scheduled programming, which is an update on my pending fanfiction of The Ladder Scene™️
I finally finished dissecting the scene and taking notes on it (tell me why a 1:47 scene took almost 3 pages of notes 💀)
Now I can actually start writing it and get into the not-so-cannon (i.e. spicy) parts that will be included. I’ll be sure to post updates on how it’s coming along!
In the meantime, feel free to peruse the work that is currently up on my AO3 account! (link to my account is included on my pinned post)
Please do excuse the shoddy quality of the gif, I simply downloaded it off Pinterest lol
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crimeronan · 1 year ago
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i keep habitually opening my email on the off chance i have new ao3 commints even tho it's been several weeks since i uploaded anything & then. remembering.
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