#sometimes people ask me like what our trauma was and like nothing i know of feels valid enough

[softness-and-shattering]

I sometimes have the reverse experience. My parents arent bad parents, but like many kids I had needs I didnt know how to express, and some things they did accidentally hurt me.

My partner would never hurt me, or be angry at me for making a mistake or messing up. Still, occasionally, usually when Im particularly sensitive for some reason, and I make a mistake or a mess I need help resolving, I go back to that kid I was, terrified because my main caregivers in every way were about to be mad at me, would send me to my room where I couldnt be comforted by them, couldnt ask for what I needed, and Id have to act contrite for a while even if I could soothe myself which wasnt emotionally fair for me. Trauma doesnt timestamp in our brain properly. I go back to being that terrified kid even though I have absolutely nothing to fear from my partner. I imagine shws going to get mad and yell, I retreat into myself, I avoid getting her attention, and I have to deliberately notice and talk myself through facts. That Im an adult in my own home, that no one can tell me what to do, I am safe, I can soothe myself I have lots of soothing skills, my partner will not be mad at me and will not punish me in any way.

I got really lucky, to learn better, to find someone who treats me right, to not fall into bad patterns because of my parents parenting imperfections. I still have emotional baggage to work on. I should have been able to learn from my parents - my teachers, all my childhood authority figures - what respect looks like and how I deserve to be treated with basic respect. Unfortunately methods of raising kids take time to update for people depending on how they were raised, what information theyve been exposed to and how they were exposed to that information. People are imperfect.

We should still treat children as whole humans. Worthy of the same respect as anyone else,nworthy of autonomy whereever developmentally appropriate. Worthy of privacy.

[pineflowrr]

sys culture is feeling invalid because all the trauma you can recall feels ‘minor’ even if it was genuinely horribly traumatic to you when it occurred

[edge-oftheworld]

when I was in high school there was a tendency whenever there was an attractive boy to simply fan over him. in a way that talked over everything he might say for himself and created a narrative that completely ignored, the fact in some cases, that he was really struggling—or if he was struggling, to pin all the blame on the girl he’s dating and completely ignore the thousands of other factors (no it can’t be mental illness or unaccommodated disability or systemic abuse or exploitation and if he is in an abusive relationship we won’t ever consider the factors that put him at risk for that)

and I’m not saying this fandom is like that. I get the need for privacy around some things and how in public conversations sometimes it’s a lot more respectful to stick to the positives (everyone who does that, I admire you) or even the struggles that are talked about publicly, show respect by not reading too far into them. there’s a time and place for that. but sometimes I feel like our only options are shitty and ableist gossip or totally ignoring the systemic and structural issues we know exist in something like the music industry until someone dies and then we’re looking for someone to blame. friends, there is a point where the respectful thing is to listen to what someone says and come together to make things better. and you can learn how to have that conversation respectfully. please do

[pears-trinkets]

.

[zerocoded]

summary: when caleb appears at your front door on a random thursday night after faking his death for weeks, you can't help but want to punch him straight in the knees. luckyly for you, you do just that.

authors note: this beautiful drawing that i'm using in the banner is from this lovely artist, credits to them! go check their x account ♡ ANYWAYS, the caleb post i've been daydreaming about the last two days is finally here. CALEB GIRLIES I GOT YOU. let's hold each other's hands until the 22nd comes. i hope i succeed in portraying a real mc bc i'm tired of seeing us being just happy when seeing caleb for the first time when BRO DECEIVED US and played with our emotions like that. without further bs, live laugh love caleb.

warnings: SLIGHT yandere!caleb • gaslighting and manipulation • sfw content • bad writing lol, be warned! • depressive thoughts • reader is on her grieving period • work exhaustion • mental illness mentioned • minor injury • manhandling and pining • height & size difference • caleb literally invades our home • fighting bc reader is a badass and tolerates no bitches • mc bites caleb's hands lol • others LI mentioned • one kissy scene hehe • caleb screams at mc once (boo) • ANGST Y'ALL!

word count: 6.1k

you're here┃caleb uses you as hostage at the farspace fleet┃you punch caleb in the face┃caleb teaches you his love language

your apartment was silent, except for the faint hum of the city outside. tossing your jacket onto the back of the couch, you leaned against the wall, exhaling shakily. the weight of the day pressed down on you like a vice, your fingers brushing the edge of the message from linkon city hall still lying unopened on the counter.

confirmation of deceased: caleb. adoptive grandmother, dr. josephine. cause of death: explosion – classified incident.

you hadn’t needed to open it. the words were already carved into your memory, and the weight of them had crushed you all day. it didn’t matter that the explosion was months ago—seeing their names on an official report felt like losing them all over again.

you pushed away from the counter, willing your mind to focus on anything else. the hunter uniform hugged your frame perfectly, as it always had, and your reflection in the glass windows of your living room showed how tired you looked.

did anyone notice how wrecked you felt? you wondered if tara had gossiped to the other hunters about your predicament, and if she had left you alone because she somehow understood the weight of what had happened to you.

the message was awful. being asked to confirm the deaths of your loved ones had thrown you into a depressive spiral you hadn’t felt in days after returning from the N109 zone. your troublesome heart sometimes made you feel like you shouldn’t have even been born. when you trauma-dumped this on rafayel a few days ago, he had almost hit you with his paint brush, the words coming out of your mouth too much for him to process. the painter was pissed that you could think of yourself like that.

but that was how you felt—unworthy of being alive, because the person who raised you had been brutally killed.

why not me? you wondered.

linkon city was adorned with shiny skyscrapers, and your privileged view of the city made you feel even smaller, your grievance nothing more than a joke to the world outside of your apartment. knowing you’d have to show up to work again tomorrow added to the weight pressing down on your shoulders from choosing to be a deepspace hunter.

these last few weeks, you had questioned why you chose this job in the first place. since coming back from onychinus and befriending sylus of all people, you’d been thinking about your life decisions more frequently. sylus made you question every little thing you had once thought was a virtue, which now seemed like selfishness in disguise.

the man was good at disturbing your thoughts and making you feel things that put you on the spot.

you became a deepspace hunter because you were selfish. you wanted to make a difference, like the people you grew up with had made.

you wanted to be smart like zayne and attentive like josephine. you wanted to be helpful like caleb and as notorious as your other anhaunsen classmates. you wanted to do anything to escape the feeling you’d had since birth—uselessness.

as you sank deep into the living room cushions and exhaled heavily into the lonely air of your apartment, your phone buzzed with a text from zayne.

fate was joking with you today.

are you okay?, it read.

his worry made your heart flutter a little before sadness took over your entire form again.

you didn’t have the heart to respond. lying required more strength than you had in that moment, so you tossed your phone onto the center table and ignored him.

i’m sorry, zayne, i wish i was stronger for you.

your stomach rumbled, and your ribs ached. earlier in the evening, you had let a wanderer get too close before killing it, distracted as you were. the mistake had left you with a swollen rib and a deep sense of shame. you’d promised to take care of it when you got home, but right now, all you could do was discard a few of your sharp weapons onto the floor before dozing off on the couch.

you’d probably hate yourself in the morning for sleeping with these tight boots on.

for you, the hardest part wasn’t the silence left behind. it wasn’t the way the world seemed to keep spinning while yours had shattered. the hardest part was feeling like you needed to smile, to nod politely when people said, “stay strong,” as if strength could stitch together the pieces of your broken heart.

the hardest part was the way people looked at you, expecting you to move forward, to let the memories be enough. but how could you, when the smell of smoke still haunted your nightmares, when you could still hear caleb’s laughter drowned by the deafening roar of the explosion? how could you heal when your soul was still bleeding, the wounds too fresh, the pain still pouring out with every breath you tried to take?

you loved him so much it hurt. you wish you’d told him more times. why didn’t you told him more times?

how could you move forward when you still couldn’t clench your fists as strong as you were accustomed to because you were thrown into the air and broke both of them at the incident?

you wondered if it would ever be enough, and if someday you’d find out who was responsible for all of this pain.

the kitchen candles were the only light in the room when you heard the doorbell ring. sharp and sudden, it cut through the haze and fought off your sleepiness in a second, your hunter’s bells ringing warningly.

your heart jumped, and your hand instinctively went to your side where your pistol usually rested, only to find it absent. you’d left it in your locker at the deepspace headquarters, thinking you wouldn’t need it tonight.

the bell rang again, more insistent this time.

“probably xavier,” you muttered, trying to shake off the lingering unease. your neighbor and cute colleague had been away on a special mission as a hunter. his absence had started to feel noticeable in the quiet moments.

you liked spending time with xavier because he seemed to understand you on another level. he never seemed to expect anything from you, which made grieving next to him a little less daunting. you missed his midnight visits and occasional talks about claw machines and stupid wanderers, and you wished he would respond to your texts asking when he was coming back.

you felt like it would be nice to hear his voice right now.

without thinking much, you unlocked the door, combat boots still on and dark circles framing your usually bright eyes.

“took you long enough—”

the words died on your lips.

it wasn’t xavier.

standing in your doorway, dressed in a pristine daa military uniform, was a man—ridiculously intimidating and strange. he looked at you with judgment and arrogance, making you step back a little and guard more of yourself.

thank god you still had your uniform on and wasn’t wearing some flimsy nightgown. the man seemed to be eating you alive in his head.

before you had the chance to question the stranger’s presence at your door on this random thursday night, he tossed you aside and pressed you against the corridor wall of your kitchen, your breath instantly hitched and your ribs ached from the impact.

your hunter’s awareness triggered instantly, instincts flaring and mind still trying to process what the hell was going on. your hands struggled against his grip, desperately searching for an evol to resonate with. if your mind had already been spiraling out of control before, now you felt like you could fight a thousand wanderers at once and focus on surviving with mere instinct.

you couldn’t scream. his right hand clamped over your mouth, his left gripping both your wrists in front of your chest and preventing you from punching him like you planned to. somehow, this was a professional individual who knew your fighting mannerisms and wrestling tendencies by heart.

with great effort, you managed to bite his hand that was closest to your mouth and heard his pained grunt right after. you swore you heard him cussing before his head raised and his eyes finally met yours.

your heart stopped. the world narrowed to the faint outline of his silhouette as you finally were able to look at his face. his hair was concealed beneath a presumptuous cap, the daa symbol shining bright at its center. black, red, and gold adorned the uniform of the unknown man who handled your body as if it were weightless, plastic.

you thrashed and twisted in his grip until he was forced to pin both your hands above your head, hissing when you managed to land a kick on his right knee. the door clicked shut beside you as he silenced your attempted scream with his hand again.

amethystine eyes stared back at you, thick brows furrowed as your gazes locked. chills ran down your spine. your hunter uniform pressed uncomfortably against the wall, your combat boots barely touching the floor. yet, despite your effort, he towered over you.

you wanted to cry.

the hidden freckles were the first clue your mind was playing tricks on you, the shape of his mouth the second, and his skin tone the third. countless times since the explosion, you’d dreamed of caleb’s touch—more nights than you could count. but as the weight of the day bore down on you, your fighting spirit waned, the initial rush of adrenaline fading as you stared into his eyes.

everything felt cruelly unfair.

his gaze was uncharacteristically hard as he watched you, his bruising grip on your mouth and wrists warming for a moment before you snapped out of your daze.

a smirk made way to his lips and his stupidly manly perfume set itself on your senses. another attempt at kicking him made him press himself further into you, ribs screaming from the pressure. if he noticed your pained expression, he didn’t mention it at all.

“caleb,” you whispered, the name barely audible. your voice cracked, your body frozen in place, your mind unable to reconcile the impossible reality before you.

he didn’t seem to hear you, but his hand left your mouth, his gaze sweeping over your body and his face so close to yours you could count his naturally defined lashes.

the tension between you two shifted as he eyed you closer, curious eyes landing on your pretty figure. he could swear for a moment you wouldn’t recognize him and that thought perturbed his mind for the next few seconds he allowed himself to bask in your beauty.

caleb was familiar with the sight of you in the hunter’s association uniform, but never had he seen you looking this wrecked.

in the weeks leading up to the explosion, he’d promised himself he’d never let you get hurt by ever ever again. now, seeing you like this, he wondered if things looked different from your perspective.

would you hate him?

would you hate him for the decisions he made? for the people he deceived and the families he destroyed? for the secrets he exposed so he could be at advantage and fight for you from a more privileged position?

would you hate him for wanting you all to himself and sharing the same fate as him as a human experiment? for wanting to take you to the ever base and expose you to everyone right before killing them? for being the demise of your life but still wanting to keep you as close as possible?

would you still love him after he told you all of the wrongings he did to make things right for you and him?, he wondered.

the look in your eyes told him no, and because of that, his grip on your pinned hands loosened, the silence between you two remaining charged with tension. he saw the exact moment reality crashed down on you. your gaze faltered, and for a moment, you looked like you were going to cry.

he would hate to see you cry because of him, even though deep down he knew how lovely you looked while pouring your eyes out. he have seen it a thousand times before. caleb wanted to make you cry in other circumstances, not right now.

his lips pressed into a forced smile, and your breath hitched as his eyes shone faintly in the dim light of the kitchen candles. though the light wasn’t very effective, the touch of his gloved hand was enough to confirm the truth: this wasn’t a fucking stranger.

caleb felt when you stopped fighting and caved into his touch, scared to death. he let go of your mouth and stared right at your lips.

“no,” you muttered, shaking your head as if to clear a hallucination. your hands remained bound, your feet still searching for the floor. “this can’t be true.”

he tilted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “it’s me.” his voice was calm, too familiar, too real. too cruel.

your body trembled with his tone, his breath fanning on your cheeks while your eyes scanned his. it felt wrong to say anything at the moment, fear still there in your eyes.

your body snapped into action, reality slamming into you like a tidal wave. you raised your knee, aiming to knock him off balance, desperate to banish the ghost standing in your kitchen.

but the colonel moved faster.

his hand shot out, catching your leg with unnerving precision. before you could react, he hoisted you over his shoulder effortlessly.

you stumbled, panic surging through your veins. your instincts screamed at you to fight, to move, to do something.

“let me go” you demanded, your voice trembling with equal parts fear and fury, punching his back in a futile attempt to stop him. “who are you? who sent you?”

“i came to see you,” he said simply, his voice steady and unnervingly calm. his eyes darted around the apartment, scanning every corner like a predator assessing its prey. “you didn’t think i’d stay away forever, did you?”

why did he sound so smug and heartless? it pissed you off.

realization set heavy on your shoulders—did he... did he fake his own death?

“you’re a fucking asshole.” you didn’t care that this man was more than six feet tall or that he wore a military uniform of all things, you kicked and screamed as much as you could after he threw you onto the couch—the very place you’d landed earlier that evening.

the moment he released you, you inched toward the center table where your spare weapon was stashed.

caleb’s smile faltered, replaced by something darker. his voice dropped, softer but laced with unsettling intensity. “i hope you cooperate from now on, pipsqueak.”

the words sent a chill down your spine.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” you spat, pistol in hand, ready to aim.

his gaze flicked to your movement, and before you could react, he was there. his hand closed around your wrist, pinning it to the couch with a force that made you gasp.

“you’re not going to hurt me, pipsqueak,” he murmured, his tone almost teasing, though the intensity in his purple eyes told a different story. “i’d never hurt you. you know that.”

you struggled against his grip, your heart pounding as fear twisted into anger. “let me go, caleb.”

“not until you listen,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. he leaned closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “will you stop fighting and thrashing around? i need to see if you are ready”

“ready for what?” you spat, your voice trembling with rage.

“for us,” he said simply, his tone calm, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

your breath hitched as his words sank in, the weight of them pressing down on you like a storm. “what the hell is ‘us’? you died. i watched you fucking die, asshole.”

he leaned closer, his forehead almost brushing yours, his voice a low whisper. “and i came back—for you.”

the weight of his presence, his words, was suffocating. for a moment, you froze, your mind racing for a way out.

it sounded so intimate, so romantically unsettling having him above you and saying things that made your heart clench. you hoped the hurt in your eyes was visible to the man. you hoped he still had sympathy and felt guilt somewhere underneath that uniform.

caleb stepped back, releasing your wrist but still blocking your path, his expression softening slightly as he examined you. “i need you to be quiet until i can tell you everything.”

“who do you think you are? you filthy liar”. 

caleb’s gaze flickered as your words hung between you, unspoken accusations slicing through the air like shards of glass. he shifted his weight, his broad frame now more a shadow than a presence in the dim room. for a moment, it seemed like he might say something—anything—but instead, he exhaled, a quiet sound that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies.

"you look as pretty as always, princess", his whisper reached your ears and you felt a wave of anger wash over you.

"i don't know what you did to caleb, but right now is not the time for games". you spat the words with disgust.

"you think you know anything?" he asked, voice low but steady. his eyes, catching the faint glow of the candlelight, held yours. he looked scary above you. 

"you think that you are right?," you bit back, the ache in your ribs forgotten under the pressure of the moment. "faking a death isn’t something i take lightly in my books”.

his jaw tightened, the faintest tremor in his hand betraying him as he sighed. the silence stretched again, taut and heavy, before he finally spoke. “trust me to take care of you as i always did, pipsqueak, i just need more cooperation from you this time. i needed to do that so I could've gotten rid of josephine”.

the vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard, stealing whatever biting retort was forming on your tongue. you searched his face, the faint scars etched into his skin, the weariness in his eyes. "what the fuck did you just say?" you said softly, your voice trembling with the effort to keep it steady. 

caleb’s expression shifted as he saw the tense tone of your voice, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. regret? anger? it was gone too fast to tell. "i said what i said," he replied, his tone measured, almost calm—too calm. "josephine was a threat. she had to go, and i handled it and you should put this in your mind and move on."

"you handled it?" the words came out as a growl. the disbelief, the rage, the grief—it all boiled over. "you’re talking about the woman who raised me, caleb. who raised you. and you expect me to just—what—trust that you had your reasons? that it’s fine because you handled it?"

you got up from the sofa and watched him tower over you once again, not being afraid to fight him out of your house this time. you took a step further and watched the surprise on his face mix with a hint of mischief.

"you must have lost your mind, who the fuck sent you here? answer me." you asked, your voice sharper now, frustration spilling over.

he stepped closer, the shadow he cast stretching long across the dim room. his voice dropped, soft but firm, the kind of tone that brooked no argument. "the sooner you accept the truth, the easier all of this will turn out for you. josephine was a loose thread that could put you at harm and, trust me, i won’t let anything or anyone put you at risk."

"shut up," you snapped, your hands shaking as they clenched into fists. "don’t you dare put this on her. don’t you dare tell me you did this for me." you pushed him with force until he stumbled back a little, eyes on you the entire time. still, he didn’t react. so you pushed yourself past him, pacing to the other side of the room as if distance could lessen the fury building inside you. "you’re out of your fucking mind if you think i’m going anywhere with you. you—i… i mourned you, caleb".

caleb turned, his movements slow and deliberate, his gaze locking onto yours. "you don’t have a choice," he said simply. "if you want a chance of surviving, you’ll accompany me to the farspace fleet so you can prove to me that you are not a threat, this isn’t a quest, Y/N.”

"stop acting like you’re my savior," you shouted, spinning to face him. "you lied to me, faked your death, and now you show up here, in my home, telling me what to do? you’ve lost the right to give me orders, caleb. i don’t have to prove you shit"

his eyes narrowed, and for a moment, something like frustration flashed across his face. "you’re impossible," he muttered, more to himself than to you. “don’t make me take you by force, princess, this is already hard enough for me”.

his presence felt heavier now, more intimidating and more overwhelming. “hear me out on this one, pipsqueak, i can see why you’re upset but here it’s not the right place to talk about this. i promise i’ll explain it later”.

caleb’s gaze didn’t waver, feelings too strong for him to back down.

“you think i trust you wholeheartedly as well? don’t you think i know about what you’re capable to do, what weapon they made you become?”, he questioned, raising more questions about your past to the surface.

you hesitated, your chest heaving as you glared at him, every instinct screaming at you to fight, to run, to do anything but listen.

“you think i don’t know what you’re capable of? you’ve got every right to hate me, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re in danger and i’m the only one who can keep you alive.”

he stepped closer, his boots echoing softly against the tiled kitchen floor, the flicker of candlelight casting shadows that seemed to stretch and twist with your unease. the space between you vanished with every deliberate step he took, and before you realized it, the cool edge of the counter pressed against your back.

“i came here to get you so i can protect you,” he said, his voice softer now, almost tender, though his eyes burned with something far less kind. “won’t you trust me, pipsqueak?”

you swallowed hard, your ribs aching as the tension tightened around you like a vice. the pain flared again on your right side, but you forced it down, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing your weakness. caleb’s arms came up, caging you between them, his palms braced on the counter on either side of you. his breath was warm against your skin, the faint scent of mossy perfume and something metallic clinging to him.

his amethystine eyes locked onto yours, drawing you in and daring you to look away. “josephine wasn’t innocent,” he murmured, the words deliberate, each one cutting deeper than the last. “she was the only way left they could get to you easily. so i had to get rid of her.”

the shock and fury bubbling in your chest clawed their way to the surface, but before you could lash out, he moved. slowly, deliberately, he raised his hands, his movements calm but weighted with unspoken meaning. his right hand hovered between your bodies as he tugged off his glove, revealing cold, gleaming metal where flesh once was.

your breath hitched, your eyes widening despite yourself. the intricate machinery of his prosthetic glinted dully in the dim light, a jarring contrast to the warmth of his other hand still braced beside you.

“i didn’t get out of there without paying a price,” he continued, his tone dipping lower, the faintest hint of bitterness creeping into his words. “if that makes you feel better.”

the sight of the metal, the weight of his confession, sent your mind reeling. you wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the fury that kept you standing, but the cracks in his armor—the familiar of his voice, the faint tremor in his hand—made it harder to breathe.

“turns out i gave them everything they wanted to have even more control over my body,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly, studying your reaction like a predator watching prey. “you’re not the only ever victim in this room, princess, don't you see?”

his words hit like a punch to the gut, the nickname twisting something deep inside you. your eyes burned, the sting of unshed tears making your vision blur. compassion clawed its way forward, fighting against the iron grip of your fury.

he leaned closer, his voice softening, wrapping around you like a velvet noose. “don’t you see now? i’m your only way out. only i can make you safe, princess.” his head tilted slightly, his gaze piercing through the layers of anger and fear you’d built around yourself. “why don’t you see it?”

the way he said it—like it was inevitable, like you were foolish for resisting—sent a fresh wave of defiance coursing through you. your fingers twitched at your sides, curling into fists. the tears threatening to spill were not ones of submission but of frustration, of fury that he could twist your pain and vulnerability into leverage.

your hands trembled as you shoved against his chest, trying to create even an inch of space between you. “you’re the danger here, caleb.”

his expression hardened, though the faintest flicker of something else���hurt? regret?—crossed his features. he caught your wrists before you could push him further, his grip firm but not painful, his proximity suffocating.

“i won’t let you go this time,” he said, his voice quieter now, the sharp edge replaced with something closer to desperation. his eyes seemed to ignore every red signal your body emitted. “what are you afraid of, pipsqueak? c'mon, it’s me, caleb”.

the charged silence that followed was unbearable, the tension between you a living, breathing thing. the weight of his words, the intensity in his gaze—it all felt too much, too close, and yet not close enough.

“answer me.”, he demanded, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rasp that sent a shiver down your spine. “you need me, Y/N.”

you wanted to scream, to shove him back, to wipe that look of control and simmering frustration off his face, but the words stuck in your throat. it wasn’t fear keeping you quiet—it was the truth you didn’t want to admit. the truth you couldn’t admit.

“you don’t get to do this,” you managed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “you don’t get to leave me, fake your death, and then come back like nothing happened. like i’m supposed to just—just fall in line and listen to you.”

his lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out. instead, he exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching as his grip on your wrists loosened ever so slightly. “i didn’t come back for you to listen,” he said, his tone soft but laced with an edge of frustration. “i came back to make sure you survive. with me.”

“you are crazy” you spat, shaking your head as you finally yanked your hands free from his grasp. “i don't know why you changed so much. you call this survival? being hunted, manipulated, dragged into whatever mess you’ve made? that’s not survival, caleb. that’s hell.”

“didn’t you want answers?!” he snaps, his voice cutting through the charged silence like a whip. his tone is sharp, frustration crackling in the air between you. for a moment, you flinched at his tone. “answers about your past, about granny, about the aether core that lives inside of you?”. he motions for your chest and you lean away from him.

caleb throws his daa hat on the floor and runs his gloved hand over his hair, desperation clinging into his actions. a move you were so used to seeing him doing as a teenager now seemed to paint his figure as someone totally different.

“guess what,” he continues, stepping closer, his boots scraping against the floor as the small space between you shrinks to nothing. “i’m the only one who can give you that.”

your back hits the counter again, the cold surface biting through your shirt as his presence looms over you. his hands grip the edge of the counter on either side of you, boxing you in, and his voice drops lower, quieter, but no less intense. “i know you’ve been looking for the truth. don’t pretend you haven’t. every decision you’ve made, every risk you’ve taken, it’s all been for answers.”

the weight of his words pressed down on you, heavy and suffocating, as if the walls of the apartment were closing in. his voice, low and deliberate, carried the kind of certainty that felt like a blade against your resolve. you hated that he knew so much, hated the way his presence seemed to draw out every buried question, every lingering doubt you’d tried so hard to silence.

the truth of it stung more than you wanted to admit. because it was true—wasn’t it? every decision, every desperate move you’d made since josephine’s death had been about finding the missing pieces. about understanding why your life felt like a jigsaw puzzle with crucial parts deliberately torn away.

you grew up with people like zayne and caleb so you’d become the best version of yourself. still, you felt unworthy of everything you have ever achieved.

you were... at a loss of words.

your ribs screamed in pain against the counter, the cold seeping through your shirt and grounding you in the moment. you wanted to push him away, to snap back with something that would shatter the arrogance in his voice. but instead, you found yourself staring at him—really staring—seeing the desperation etched into every line of his face. it wasn’t just his words that rattled you; it was the way his shoulders seemed to carry the weight of something far greater than just your shared past.

you noticed the tremor in his hand, the way it lingered too long on the counter’s edge, as if he were holding himself back from reaching for you. the way his eyes, though sharp and unrelenting, flickered with something almost... pleading.

caleb seemed to be holding himself back—as he always did. this time, though, you were not sure if you wanted him to break and consume you or to let you go and forget the two of you. this was the first time in your life where you felt close enough to the truth, close enough to calm the storm of questions in your mind. still, your grip on your ego seemed to be as tight as ever.

everything felt unfair because you were oh so tired. since onychinus, sylus and the aether core, your mind has been settled into finding answers of questions that were never asked in the first place. you were running in circles and you dreamed every night about how you missed caleb. how you knew he would guide you into the right path if he was alive at the moment.

now that he was here, something felt uncharacteristically right for the first time in weeks.

you need me, he said.

it was a bold statement, a manipulative one, but the worst part was the whisper of doubt it planted in your mind. what if he’s right? what if caleb, with all his possessive behavior, really did have the answers you’d been chasing? could you afford to ignore him—risk losing whatever truth he claimed to hold—just because you didn’t trust him right now? just because his posture changed and his eyes seemed a little darker?

had you the privilege of saying no to him?

you have always been so weak for him, haven't you?

your gaze dropped to his gloved hand, still gripping the counter, then to the hat he’d thrown carelessly onto the floor. there was something raw about the gesture, something that pulled at a part of you you’d long thought buried. it was the same caleb you remembered, the one who’d run his hands through his hair in frustration when things didn’t go his way, but now there was a hardness to him, an edge that made him almost unrecognizable.

he leaned in slightly, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine. caleb’s hands cradled your face with an unsettling gentleness, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if to memorize every inch of your skin. his breath, warm and steady, fanned over your face, and the proximity made your pulse race despite every instinct screaming at you to pull away.

“do as i say, princess,” he murmured, his voice a mix of honeyed persuasion and steel. “you know deep down that i’m right.”

you hated how easily he saw through you, how his words made your chest tighten with the weight of unspoken truths. but there was a flicker of something else now—a sliver of curiosity, of reluctant consideration.

you stayed in silence.

“you’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, softer, as if the words were meant for no one but you. “what are you afraid of, princess? me?”.

his breath fanned over your cheek, the tension between you felt alive, electric, as if the air itself buzzed with anticipation. caleb’s hands cradled your face with a deliberate slowness, his fingers grazing your jawline like he was afraid you’d shatter under his touch. his thumbs traced lazy circles just below your cheekbones, sending faint shivers rippling down your spine.

caleb was very meticulous about the way he touched you. his words—carved in desperation just for you. he brushed away the tears you were shedding, breath in synch with yours as if he wanted for you to share your burden with him.

his thumb brushed against your skin, warm and steady, the faintest hint of mint and wood lingering in the space between you. the closeness made your pulse quicken, the steady rhythm in your chest now erratic and impossible to ignore. his forehead almost touched yours, his lips dangerously close but not quite there, as if he were savoring the moment, drawing it out until the anticipation was unbearable.

you gripped his forearms, confused at the needy feeling clawing its way out of your chest, the longing for closeness and safety that your brain always seemed to tie with the body in front of you. the tenderness he reserved only for you made your heart flutter despite the cruel truths and harsh words that had passed between you.

“what are you afraid of, princess?” he murmured again, his voice impossibly soft, like a velvet thread weaving its way into your thoughts. “it’s just me.”

the way he said it—low and intimate, like he was speaking to the deepest parts of you—made your knees weak.

his metal hand slid down from your face, the cool pads of his fingers brushing over the curve of your neck and coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. the weight was grounding, steadying, but it also sent sparks racing across your skin. the meaning behind his touch was at odds with the coldness of his prosthetic; it felt like both a tether and a promise.

you wondered if he was using his evol against you, manipulating your emotions, or if it was just your stupid, traitorous heart making you feel like you were floating.

your breaths came shallow and uneven as the tension between you thickened, palpable and inescapable. his gaze flickered to your lips, the intensity in his eyes making your stomach twist with anticipation. you hated how much you noticed the way he leaned closer, the way his presence filled every inch of the space around you, until there was nothing left but him.

“you don’t have to be scared of me,” he said softly, his lips brushing the words into the air between you. “i’d never hurt you.”

the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could think of a reason to stop him, he closed the distance.

his lips pressed against yours, slow and deliberate, giving you every chance to pull away. but you didn’t. the kiss was soft at first, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to decide, waiting to see if you would break the moment or lean into it. and for a heartbeat, you froze, the shock of it rooting you in place.

but the tenderness of his kiss, the way his hand tightened slightly on your shoulder as if to steady himself, drew you in. your fingers curled into his forearms, no longer in protest but in something closer to surrender, the heat of his closeness chasing away the cold air of the room. you felt something stir deep inside you when you felt the dips of his muscles underneath his uniform.

when did he became so big?

the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a mix of urgency and restraint, as though he were holding back a tidal wave of emotion. you felt the shift in him—the desperation, the longing he’d tried to bury under layers of control. it poured out now, raw and unguarded, and it pulled something equally raw from within you.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and uneven. his hands stayed where they were, steadying you as much as himself, and for a moment, the silence between you felt heavier than any words could.

“just me,” he whispered again, his voice breaking slightly, as if he needed you to believe it as much as he did.

I JUST POSTED PART TWO OF THIS, go check it out!

author’s note: want to cry more while reading? listen to remember me by d4vd and tell me that this song doesn't describe mc and caleb perfectly. SORRY FOR THE POOR ENDING, i'll make a part two of this post soon, follow me to get updated when i post or just check my masterpost from time to time :) send me a request • my masterpost

[inkskinned]

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

[illnessfaker]

tw: black+trans death

from the_yvesdropper on instagram:

our beautiful black trans brother, 35 year old Righteous Torrence "Chevy" Hill, was murdered in Atlanta, GA this weekend.

he went by his nickname 'Chevy' he was originally from Macon, GA. he owned Evollusion, which is a black/ queer owned LGBTQ+ salon in Atlanta that provided and dedicated full service to specializing in hair, nails, barbering and makeup. growing up as young black queer boys/kids, the barbershop experience can sometimes be a tricky space to occupy, this was something that Chevy understood and wanted to cultivate a space of safety where you can also get the affirming look and style you want, and he did exactly that.

Chevy was a beloved son, brother, partner, and father.

one of his last posts that had a photo of himself said :

"if you truly know me, you know i am a humble, modest, private man, that i love my community, i have the love of God in me and will give the shirt off my back to any soul in need, also i never post pictures of myself, legaey give myself credit, that stops today, i am my legacy!"

(a close friend of Chevy asked if i could share more then one photo of Chevy, since he never posted photos of himself and in recent years he got the confidence to want to share more photos and now he won't get the chance to)

Chevy, hey king, hey brother, hey angel, thank you for everything, i lové you, we lové you, i'm so sorry. there are a lot of photographers in heaven who will be able to photograph you as the glorious black trans angel that you are.

there will be a homegoing service/memorial for our brother

there aren't many details about what happened but apparently he was shot by a family member last wednesday, the 28th (at least this article was the one linked in relation to his murder.)

judging by both the IG post and the comments section he was well-loved by many people and those people have many good memories with him and nothing but good things to say. this is a comment that was left by tirajmeansgolden which was hidden by IG for some reason:

I started testosterone in February 2020. I hit this man up at the end of 2019 after numerous Google searches for an LGBT-friendly barber near me (and by near me... he was a good 35-40 minutes from the rural area I was in outside of Atlanta: but when I found out he was a trans man and that his business was the first and only LGBT hair bar, I knew it would be worth the trip). I was a dysphoric mess in his DMs one Sunday. I hated how my hair was growing out. I never had a "masculine" hairstyle before but decided one day I would buzz it all off myself, then allowed it to grow out a bit... I sent him a video and despite him being closed on Sunday, he told me to come through. I got my hair braided and he gave me my first really masculine fade. Explained the different terms. Lined me up. Was asking me about my decision to transition and provided some helpful advice + guidance. I told him how I was a therapist and he was hype and said he talked with a group of trans men and he would love for me to stop by and also give some mental health tips. So whoever said he was humble - wow, what an understatement. Such a community man! Made me feel SO comfortable because barbershops were a source of major trauma and triggers for me. They were such an integral part of my early transition (I just celebrated 4 years later week). And he was such an integral part of the Atlanta Queer community with hosting events like Queer Con. How I found so many other great resources + queer businesses/artists. May you rest in peace, Chevy. You'll be missed. You've made such a different in the lives of countless people. You definitely were living your Purpose + left a legacy behind ...

[neverthebabysitter]

Thinking about that prompt i found on TikTok about faking your death and then coming back and knocking on your best friend's door like nothing happened.

That but make Steve fake his own death accidentally, so he is clueless why Robin is freaking out when he goes to visit her.

(with a side of Steve going feral a la Jonh Wick and Die Hard over his car, i'm so normal about this, so normal, it's not like i use this like an oportunity to make a b99 reference, pff, Gertie who??? )

Like, i know nothing about witness protection and how faking your death would work, but, but- let's use our imagination.

Steve's father being a lawyer and messing with someone he shouldn't have. He ends up dead and because of this, the cops think they could go after Steve too.

Which, true, Steve has an accident that destroys his car (RIP BMW, I love you, but this is for plot reasons, you would be missed), so now he has to be under witness protection.

Steve, like the ball of repressed trauma and anger issues that he is, decides that the best thing to do is go after the people who destroyed his car, a la John Wick; because:

Going after them to avenge his father: no, thank you.

Going after them to avenge his car: yes, let me go for my bat.

That without forgetting to leave a cryptic message to Eddie's and Robin's voicemail.

While Steve is having his own action movie with handling the 'mob' and cops that kinda want to help, kinda don't care; the rest of the Party is freaking out because "WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO ONE INVITED HIM TO SPEND CHRISTMAS WITH SOMEONE AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN HIS CAR WAS FOUND IN THE QUARRY???".

Dustin asks Robin if something happened with Steve during christmas, like kissing under the mistletoe or something, only for Robin to say she didn't invite him because Eddie did, but Eddie hears that and goes, "Uh, no? I chicken out; I thought you would invite him after I didn't."

They asking around if someone invited Steve because it's kind of public knowledge that his parents suck, but no one did, and he hasn't come to the Party's Christmas party yet, so he's probably mad at them.

But Eddie and Robin are having a Bad Feeling™ because of the voicemails, and Hopper is being called to identify a car that it was found in the quarry that morning.

And Hopper knows that car, he has seen that car since Steve was a dumb teenager that got his parties busted by the chief. He hasn't seen Steve for a while. He wasn't at the christmas party. Where was he again?

The Party still isn't in the know, but Hopper is already looking for Steve but he can't find him and-

Remember that i told you Steve was in witness protection? Well, i think sometimes they fake their deaths, i'm not sure, but this is the perfect oportunity and cover to pretend that Steve died.

So the government uses it, and The Party doesn't know because different branch of the government and all that.

When Hopper founds out he doesn't know how to tell the other that Steve had an accident and they are still looking for him in the quarry; but they already know, they used Dustin's cerebro to find out what was going on.

Everyone is devastaded, and then, Eddie and Robin hear their voicemail again only to bring out that maybe it wasn't an accident, that maybe Steve did it on porpose.

And grief, pain, mourning, sadness, anger. Just a lot of feelings.

Meanwhile, Steve is kicking ass and using the Bad Guys™ headquarters like his own personal rage room.

Blablabla something something something.

Steve let out his anger, has a few personal realisations, lets himself think about the trauma he's endured all those years and comes back like a new person, ready to confess his feelings for Eddie Munson and let people care about him.

The first thing is go talk with Robin, she's probably worried about him and she probably knows better than him to help him confess to Eddie.

So he goes, only to be utterly confuse by the amount of tears, snot, yells and hugs that Robin welcomes him. It's not like he died.

Then Robin is flabbergasted by his Audacity.

Both of them fall into a bickering that makes Robin cry harder because she thought she wouldn't have this again and Steve starts to cry because Robin is crying and now they're both crying.

Needless to say, they catch up about all the things that happened in both ends.

It's not the end of tears, hugs and yelling, though.

Just give Steve all the confort that he refused to accept because he didn't think he deserved and that people didn't know how to give.

Fluff, Fluffy, Fluff. A bit of Steddie here.

Yeah, that's all.

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

stan: y’know, i think you thought i was gonna be upset cause we have the same face, but i get you not liking seeing yours. i mean, i’m not much a fan of people getting to know my face either

ford: why?

stan: because they go ‘hey, you’re that alcatraz fella!’ and i go ‘no, i’m andrew!’ and they go ‘yeah, andrew 8-ball alcatraz!’ and i go ‘OH FUCK’ cause i mixed up andrew with stetson again

ford: …what

stan: fake identities, lifelong history of trauma, we’re practically sinking in the same boat

ford: …is it bad if i ask if that was a joke?

stan: i know we’ve got way different things goin’ on, bud, it was a joke. maybe not a good one given the situation but, hey, i never said i was good at this whole talkin thing. either way, in the end, we both have our reasons for being uncomfortable. that’s kinda the part that matters most ain’t it?

ford: not the lifelong history of trauma?

stan: not the reasons we’re both uncomfortable, the fact that we are. that’s what i was gettin’ at. of course your trauma is important, it impacted you a lot

ford: i know…i know you get sad about that. i’m hardly the same kid you knew growing up on those jersey shores

stan: you’re still my brother though. that’s what’s important to me

ford: …

stan: …you okay?

ford: sometimes i wonder if that’s the only reason you still love me. because otherwise you’ll lose your only tie to that little kid. i don’t share anything that made you love him. nothing except where we came from

stan: what the hell gave you that idea?

ford: because you always say the fact that we’re kin is what’s important to you. that’s why you love me, why you care for me. i don’t feel very much like stanford anymore, i haven’t for years. can you blame me for feeling like you love him and not me?

stan: you are still stanford

ford: and you’re not listening

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> yeowoosan x reader warning(s) -> mentions of abuse words -> 1.1K

I’ve never considered owning hybrids. 

I've always thought that they deserved to be free, and treated like people. Unfortunately in this state of politics it won't happen anytime soon.

Even then, the three hybrids who now live with me, almost seem like they wouldn’t operate on their own.

San… my pretty panther.

He's always been bad at leaving the apartment. When he does, he wears headphones. One's specialized for hybrids to cancel out noise. He can’t handle crowded places, sounds of screams happiness, or fear, or simple everyday noises like bells. You never notice how common it is until you have a hybrid flinch and grip you so hard it causes skin and clothes to rip. 

He’s exotic… and pretty but so so damaged. 

He’s never wanted to sit down and talk to me about what it was like nor do I ever expect him to. He wants to forget… he’s cried out how he wishes he could forget.

If only I could grant that wish to him. On his month anniversary, – when it was only me and Wooyoung by his side – he asked if we could go to the park. 

He loves watching TV. He also finds the sappy movies where you go to scenic places and just… soak it in. San couldn’t do that. That day a kid approached us and asked to touch San, but he wasn’t good with touch either. He flinches… so Wooyoung distracted the kid after they pull San’s tail. Innocent curiosity… kids don’t understand what no means when they are so young. 

After that day he locked himself in his room. 

He hates the outside world. Filled with cruel people and reminders of his past. 

It's a miracle he trusts me as much as he does. I once wanted to take him to a restaurant… but the door had a bell chime. It made him freeze until I commanded him and we went home. 

He will wait for a command and it's necessary to snap him out of it. 

Kun wanted him to continue therapy but he’s still not used to it. Shortly maybe? Whether that's in a year or two or maybe never. 

Despite how damaged he is, he’s truly an amazing person. He’s sensitive and caring… he’s beautiful. 

He cares so much about me, about Wooyoung, even the newest addition of Yeosang.

He always makes sure I'm not overworking with my book when I lose track of the hours. Whilst he makes sure to reassure Wooyoung with praises and sweet nothings everyday. Even Yeosang, he helps him with his traumas… assures him that he has them and that he isn't alone. 

Sannie, my first hybrid and I'd do everything to have him in my life – to be in his heart all over again.

“May this be the first life of many I live with you, you’re my reason to continue living”

Wooyoung… a sweet hyperactive fox.

He could go on for hours and hours doing any activity as long as he was having fun or with any three of us who joined him. 

He isn’t good at leaving the apartment either.

As much as he denies it he's still scared of me abandoning him one day. So when he does go out with me he's always glued to my side. Holding my hand or simply looping our arms.

He also feels the need to “make himself useful” since his previous owners had him do chores and cook for them since they were expecting a baby and were busy. 

His stress also gets him which is obvious because of how clingy he becomes and even picks at his own fur. His mind was constantly working and overthinking and I had to get used to praising him and reassuring him how much I loved him. 

It wasn’t hard but it hurt to know he needed constant reassurance to understand he’s loved by not only me but also to make sure he isn't a burden to San or Yeosang. 

He has a very bad mental health… one which will make him experience very long or even very short depressive episodes. 

In those days I spend most of my time in his room trying to offer him comfort. Sometimes we stay in silence or we’ll talk about nothing important for hours until we sleep in each other's arms. 

I owed Wooyoung a lot… he was there for me when I was in school and when my parents weren’t necessarily present in my life. He was there… he was always there and it's the least I could do for him. 

I’d be by his side for as long as he wants me. 

“I’ve loved you like it was love at first sight! My dream became a reality and I'm not ready to ever wake up”

Yeosang… my protective doberman.

I always found it interesting how my friends thought that San was the most protective and even though he is, San was a sweetheart. While Yeosang was intimidating. He hates the socialite life… in return doesn’t trust my friends. He also hates leaving the apartment, claiming it's his safe haven and always with his silly little nickname… angel. 

Claiming that's what I was… someone who saved him from his life in hell. Brought him back up, made him smile, and forgave him for his sins. He hates being reminded of his past… it's known that I had him and people will sometimes send me emails and texts to ask him for photoshoots. 

He, however, wanted to live a life of peace away from the media and the sins that others committed. 

He hates the attention, the photos, the videos, the whispers, and the gossip when he does come out with me. He’s a dog hybrid… he has good sight, good hearing… and good smell. He could tell when they gossiped about his prostitution background and even said horrid things. Not like he’d ever tell me what they said since… he didn’t want to make me sad or angry. He endured a lot… but he didn’t have to do it alone anymore. She was gone… and she’s never had a chance to get close to him again. 

If he saw me as his guardian angel, I’d act like it. I’d protect him with my life. 

“Why would I ever leave when I’m in paradise? Out there is hell, in here I have an angel looking over me” 

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[darkcircles4lyfe]

To Build Something Else

Whenever I read a fanfiction that takes place in the future where the hero kids continue their schooling as normal and emerge as pro heroes into the existing system, I always kinda view it as like, “AU where things weren’t as bad” or “AU where everyone is still pretending that this is the way things should be” or “AU where good and evil are morally uncomplicated.” I’m not trying to call anybody out—I’ll still read and enjoy these sometimes—but that’s how I’ve always looked at it. I’m starting to notice other people feeling it too. I’ve read fics where they point out how redundant and unfair it is to go back to being students after saving the world (remember how many pros straight up quit and left a bunch of kids to keep fighting?). I’ve seen people acknowledge how trauma will affect their ability to keep going. Perhaps the trickiest thing to wrap our heads around is how the villains will fit into it all if not through death, punishment, or imprisonment. What about all the other trappings of society? The heavily regulated quirk use, the government-funded pros aiding police control and contributing to cover-ups that maintain the illusion of peace. Hero idolization, quirk counseling, civilian helplessness. Judging a person’s worth or character based on their quirk…

It would sound too obvious and cheesy to simply point out that society isn’t “just the way things are,” that change is possible. We all know this, and yet we struggle to pinpoint exactly where to aim our sights, find the source, make any meaningful progress. The other day I read some articles from my university’s student newspaper around 1970, and it made me feel sick wondering if progress is really an illusion. Fact is, it’s easy to intellectually deconstruct society, but very difficult to imagine how to build something else.

In this fictional world, heroes have offered a mythical vision of safety and triumph. When All Might arrived, everything was going to be okay. But let’s not forget how this story began: with a moment where All Might paused, like a bystander, and in his place, a desperate civilian kid hurtled forward without any common sense. If you ask me, it wasn’t that Izuku was so good and pure and selfless, it was that he disregarded everything.

And so the person who “saves the world” (if we can even reduce it to such a concept) is not the person who puts everyone at ease and makes crowds cheer. It’s the person who makes everyone hold their breath, with a feeling in the air like the pressure changed, and it smells like rain. It is natural to be worried about the future. It’s honest. It means you can see what’s really going on. Hero society has never felt this exposed, but the people are held back from the edge of despair because there is also so much potential brewing. Electricity about to strike. The world will NOT go back to the way it was, no matter what. That much is certain. But what if we still live to see the dawn? What then? What if one person’s courage to break the mold makes all the difference?

I’m not just talking about Izuku, you know. I’m talking about Horikoshi.

To an extent, I’ve given up on predicting how exactly things will play out, because if nothing else, I can tell he’s planning something big—so big, I can’t quite picture it. I’m watching and waiting for the one person who can. I just know where he’s coming from. I think about how he’s never come this far before because his other stories were snuffed out. I know he used to struggle to see the future of his career. I relate to his stubbornly rebellious resolve to do what he wants anyway. To keep dreaming. I know that emotional sincerity is his specialty. And now he’s even directly breaking the fourth wall, having characters talk about what’s supposed to happen in comic books. Gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, we’ve been shown how something else can happen. He’s not done yet.

[lighteez]

Comforting Sanji

Hello, hello! This one shot is based after the straw hats saved sanji. (it was ep 796 i believe where sanji's sis cuffed his hands) It'll be based on him finally getting his shackles away and it left a terrible scar on his wrists, so once the crew left whole cake island, you got worried over sanji and decided to take care of him after finding out about his past. You comfort him, cook for him, and tend to his wounds while cursing his entire family and the big mom family. (im on ep810 and i just saw the sanji x luffy fight, i was crying an ocean omg, i cant… it broke me seeing luffy and sanji cry) (p.s. IT HAS SPOILERS!! AND READER IS FEMALE!!!)

“SANJI!” You screamed when you saw the crew members return back with Sanji. When he saw you, he looked at you differently, his smile was still warm, but his eyes screamed a different story. He was hurt, he was in pain.

You gripped the railing of the ship angrily, jumping out of the ship and ran towards him and the crew. Hugging them all, you told them that you took care of the ship well and made sure nothing happened to the Thousand Sunny.

Luffy laughed and nodded, “Thanks for ya help, now let's go back and have a feast! This time with our cook’s dishes!” He screamed like always, running back to the ship with Chopper. They were both happy to get their crew mate and friend back on board, the most exciting part? Sanji's delicious food! You on the other hand felt worried that he might be mentally tired, so being the caring person that you are towards your crew members, you tapped Sanji on his shoulder. 

He turned his attention towards you and stopped walking, a curious expression on his face. “What is it? Is something wrong?” He smiled brightly. Taking in a deep breath, you relaxed yourself and spoke up.

“I’m glad you’re back, Sanji. Are you feeling okay now?” You asked, looking into his eyes to make sure he wasn’t lying to you. Seeing him take a deep breath as well, he relaxed his shoulders, or at least tried to relax. He simply nodded, faking another smile. “I know you’re lying to me… You’re mentally exhausted, am I right?” I asked, looking over to the ship as I saw the crew happily waving at us to hurry back so we can leave this weird island. 

Sanji’s smile fell and he looked down at the ground with no facial expression playing on his face. All those horrible memories of the vinsmoke family came back to him, and he knew it was going to take more time to forget them again. “We really can’t lie to ya, huh? You see right through us.” He whispered, taking out his packet of cigarettes only to see that he was done with them. A thought came to mind, that he must’ve chain smoked a lot while being trapped with them. 

“Sanji… I’m sorry all this happened to you. Let’s go back on the ship, I apologize I wasn’t much help.” I frowned, looking at the floor as well. This entire crew are always in their own world, having fun with another, but when their past or traumas come back, they are actually exhausted and worn out. You hadn’t noticed that these wonderful people suffered so much before they all met. It somehow felt like it should be your job to help these people who took you in when you had nowhere to go. 

“It wasn’t your fault, and you always help us.” He smiled and ruffled your hair. You sighed in defeat, even though they say these things, you still feel useless, so you try your best to help around in the ship. Sometimes you would even train with Zoro and try to learn some fighting techniques. “Come on, let’s get out of here now. I don’t like Whole Cake Island.” He physically shivered and walked towards the ship with you following him.

Once on the ship, you all finally set sail to meet up with the other crew members who stayed on Zou Island. The crew was back to being cheerful, loud, funny and completely normal as if nothing ever happened these last couple of days. You ended up hearing all the news from Carrot about Sanji being a Vinsmoke, almost marrying that daughter from Big Mom, and his past. The more she talked about what happened, you became worried and angry. Nami chimed in on the conversation and said that Luffy and Sanji had a big fight.

Looking over to Sanji and Luffy, they seemed perfectly fine dancing and laughing with the others, as if nothing ever happened between them. Letting out a small smile towards Nami you told her to stop bringing up the past, it would only stay in her mind if she keeps remembering and repeating everything that happened. Nami agreed and just began to drink all the booze to lighten up. Carrot followed Luffy and ate all that she could.

Hours went by in a flash and you excused yourself to freshen up. The only ones still up was Brook and Pedro playing songs while Carrot danced with Chopper. Luffy and Nami were knocked out asleep, and of course Luffy was still eating Sanji’s dishes while sleeping. Everything felt good, and right in its place, however; Sanji was stuck in the Kitchen, cooking and cooking away. You already knew that sometimes he cooks whenever his mind is full of thoughts, and considering all that went down, you were sure he was recalling back old memories. 

Instead of going to the bathroom, you headed towards the stairs and walked to the kitchen. Peeping into the window you saw him there cooking multiple different dishes and keeping himself occupied. “Sanji, do you need help? Please rest up, I’ll take care of the cooking.” You came inside and walked up to him, but he didn’t seem to hear you at all as he had a painful expression on his face. Immediately, you turned the stove off and grabbed his hands, pulling him to sit down on the stool.

“Sanji, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you in pain?” You put the back of your hand on his forehead, but he wasn’t running a fever. Sanji snapped out of it and his expression melted. Looking up at you, he had those same eyes from when you saw him coming back to the ship. 

“I’m fine, I was just thinking about things like always. Don’t worry, okay?” He said, taking a deep breath, but you knew he was broken. As you looked down at his wrists you saw scars of some handcuffs and you let out a loud gasp quickly grabbing his hands to scan the injury. 

“How can I not worry?! Your wrists are hurt! Let me go get Cho-” Before you could turn around to get Chopper, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back.

“Don’t… I’m fine, really. These will go away at some point.” He said, referring to the scars.

“Sanji, these will leave a horrible scar. Please, at least let me treat them.” Sanji looked up at you and locked his gaze on you before agreeing with you. “Okay, I’ll go get the first aid kit. Wait here and don’t you dare move a finger.” You warned him before jogging towards the infirmary room to get the first aid kit. Chopper taught you the basics of tending a wound so you knew how to handle this situation. 

Once you gathered the things, you headed back into the kitchen. Sanji was staring at his wrists that were resting on his lap. He looked tired and worn out, how could you comfort him? What can make him feel better and forget all those horrible memories? You want to help him forget and comfort him. Sanji seems so fragile right now, and you wanted to care for him right now, even if it’s just for a night. 

“I’m back, put your wrist on the counter there.” You laid the first aid kit on the counter nearby his extended wrist. Taking out things one by one, you suddenly blurted out, “The Vinsmokes are all assholes. They don’t deserve you at all. May they all get a slow painful death and regret everything!” Anger was building up inside of you as you could only imagine all the shit he has been through since he was a child. 

Surprisingly, Sanji let out a laugh which surprised you. After cleaning his wound he was just looking at you with a smile again, “Thanks for this. I’ll be fine, I swear.” He whispered, but that didn’t calm your anger down one bit as you started wrapping the bandages around his left wrist first.

“I know you’ll be fine, Sanji, but I can’t help it. If I was there with you, I would’ve killed them with my bare hands, they don’t deserve to live at all. Fuck them all and I will pray for their down fall everyday.” Your words flew out of your mouth, saying the most horrendous things about the Vinsmokes. If only he could read your mind, he would hear all the ways you would be torturing them right this moment. Sometimes, horrible people who don’t redeem themselves at all deserve the worst kind of death. 

His right hand grabbed your wrist and gave it a squeeze, “Hey, a lady shouldn't stress her pretty mind out over the past.” He chuckled, as you looked at him, softening your gaze when you guys met each other's gazes. “And you’re kind of squeezing my wrist there.” A small wince came out his lip as you gasped and stopped gripping his injured wrist. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize I was hurting you!” Without thinking you grabbed his left hand with caution rubbing his arm gently. “You’re okay, right?” You looked at him with gentleness as he stared at you, clearly surprised that you’re being so careful with him. It was the first time he’s seen you this caring towards him, as if he would break with a gentle touch.

He snapped out of his thoughts and nodded, “Yeah. I’m fine, don’t worry.” He looked back at the stove where the food he was cooking probably got cold now. “I should get back to cooking, I’m sure they’re all waiting for my food now.” He chuckled, getting up from the stool, but you pushed him back down to sit down.

“You’re not going to cook with injured wrists, and plus you need to rest, everyone has to rest.” You sighed, frustrated at him because he didn’t want to rest up and listen to you. “Once I’m done bandaging your right wrist, I’m going to get everyone to sleep. I’ll stay awake to make sure there’s nothing over the horizon, and tomorrow morning I’ll cook breakfast, okay?” You went over your list to him as you grabbed his other hand and cleaned his wound, applying ointment as Sanji said nothing. 

The silence dragged on between you two as you cleaned up his wound. You broke the silence first to say this, “Nami told me what happened with Luffy and you. I didn’t expect that to happen honestly.” A small groan escaped his lips as you took your hands away from his wrist, “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you again?” You asked him as he shakes his head in response. 

“No, you didn’t. I just-” He stopped mid sentence and sighed deeply, “I feel so horrible for doing that to Luffy. I know he forgives me for what I’ve done, but- I should’ve been stronger. Instead I hurt my captain after he took me in as part of his crew. I’m such a horrible fucking-” You quickly covered his mouth with your hand, being worried about him. You didn’t want him to finish that sentence at all.

“Don’t say that, Sanji. You’re not a bad crew mate. I know that you had your reasons, okay? We all know that you would never intentionally hurt Luffy.” You finished talking before removing your hand away from his mouth as he looked at you again, but this time he showed you a sad face. He really does regret what he did. 

“I-I know, but Nami slapped me. She actually thought I would turn my back to them. I feel so bad, I want to take back everything I did and said. I just feel so-” His voice choked up, looking away from you as he bit his lip. Sanji was crying. “So guilty and weak.” His last words hit you like a train, you haven’t seen him cry before and your heart swelled with pain. You don’t like seeing him so hurt or cry.

Again, without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. A tear rolled down your eye, crying with him. The pain and guilt he must be going through right now made you want to protect him and the rest of the crew from any kind of harm. You stroked his messy hair, calming him down as he clinged to your shirt like a little kid who had gotten a small paper cut. “There, there… Don’t cry, Sanji dear. I’m here. You’re not a horrible person, okay?” You whispered as your chin rested on top of his head as he hugged you tighter, crying into your shirt.

“I’m sorry for causing everyone harm. I was- I was trapped with that old man and those so-called brothers. They threatened me so many times by saying they will kill people who are important to me and blow my hands away. I felt horrible that I said those words to Luffy and Nami. I didn’t mean them at all, I swear. I almost made a mistake by marrying someone for political reasons and not because I truly loved them.” He cried out loudly, his tears running down his face and staining your shirt. 

Your heart broke into millions of pieces as you held him tighter, probably squeezing the air out of him. You planted kisses on top of his head, reassuring him that he will be safe now, and nothing bad will happen to him ever again. Tears fell down your eyes as well, feeling sympathy towards him as you tried your best to understand how he felt right now in the moment. “It’s okay, Sanji. You had very good reasons, that only proves that you were thinking about us before thinking of yourself. You’re a great guy, I’m sure you’ll find the love of your life out there, so please forget about that. You’re safe now, with us, with your friends.”

In the process of comforting him, your anger rose inside of you, wishing hell upon everyone who harmed Sanji and your crew. Your breathing picked up as you grabbed his cheeks and pulled his head up to make him look at you, your thumbs clearing his tears. “Sanji, dear. I’ll make sure to protect you and the crew. I will do anything in my power to kill all those assholes who made you all feel pain. I swear on my life.” His eyes widened as he tried to not cry again.

“Don’t swear on your life. Everything passed now, we’re all okay now. I’ll be okay.” He leaned into your touch on his cheeks as he held you closer to him. “After a few naps, I will forget all that happened to us. It won’t haunt us again.” Sanji whispered, closing his eyes as he enjoyed your hands on his cheeks, they were warm and tender. You sighed, your gaze falling softly as you saw him enjoying your comfort. 

“Okay, but still. I won’t let this go. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you all safe.” You whispered softly, a small smile creeping up your lips as you stared at him warmly. “Let’s get your wrist wrapped up and you can go to sleep, okay? I’ll clean up the mess and get everyone to sleep in their rooms.” He opened his eyes and looked at you, his eyes were glistening and red from crying so much. You wouldn’t trade this moment between you two for nothing, you knew right there and then that it’ll be your official job to make sure they’re all mentally and physically okay. 

Sanji gulped and looked away from you, “You’re being too kind to me. I should be a man here and help you out.” He chuckled softly as you followed his lead. 

“No, just for right now… Just for tonight, let me take care of you, is that fine?” You asked him as he looked back at you, his stare sent your heart racing. He looked at you so gratefully and tenderly as your heart melted with warmth. 

He didn’t respond at all, he just kept staring at your eyes with a smile. The warmth from his gaze sent your stomach doing flips, you liked this side of him. “Sanij… I should really bandage your wrist now.” Clearing your throat, you went back to his wrist, placing it on the counter as you grabbed the bandages and began wrapping his wrists gently. 

Once you were done, you put the things back into the first aid box, closing it when suddenly Sanji pulled you into a back hug, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry, but please let me hug you… You’re an angel, y’know that, right?” He whispered against your neck, his arms tightening around your waist, sending a shiver down your spine. A small blush crept up your cheeks as he held you so close.

“I’m not an angel, Sanji. I don’t mind your hugs.” You whispered back, looking down at the counter as he breathed gently against your neck. The atmosphere around you two seemed warm and sweet, you wanted to hug him, but you knew yourself, you would start pampering him and treating him like a lover would. 

The biggest secret you ever kept from the crew is that you started falling in love with Sanji, you didn’t know when, but all you remember is that Sanji showed you his real self. Not his weird perverted self, but the most intimate parts of his life. His eyes shine whenever he talks about the all blue, or whenever you help him out in the kitchen, he gets so excited to teach you new recipes. His interests are rather adorable and you find yourself wanting to learn more about him over time.

“Sanji… Go rest up. You need it.” A small whisper left your lips as he groaned in protest. 

“I’m sorry… I can’t help myself after you comforted me this way.” He whispered as well. “I remembered something, the girl I was going to marry… she sympathized with me like this, but she wasn’t like you. You’re assertive and more- demanding. I just- I apologize if I’m comparing you two” Sanji let out a small grunt, probably regretting what he said.

Something in you felt angry again and almost snapped at him, “Don’t… Just- Stay like this, don’t think about anything or that girl who caused you harm as well. She’s Big Mom’s daughter, I will hate her too for life.” The last sentence left your lips as you shut your mouth and slapped a hand over your lips, realizing what you just said. 

You heard Sanji laugh against your neck, squeezing you softly. “Alright, I get it.” He responded, “You’re gonna fight her too, huh? Two beautiful women fighting over me? That sounds nice.” You became angry again and twisted your body to look straight at him, grabbing his tie and pulling him down towards you.

“Don’t talk about that bitch, I hate her. Understand?” His face was shocked when you did that suddenly. “I’m just protecting my crew mate from harm.” A low grumble left your mouth as he stared at you with wide eyes.

Sanji visibly gulped nervously as he nodded, biting his lip as you pulled him closer to you, “Sanji… I really do care about you and want to keep you safe from here on out. Can I do that?” You asked him, your gaze traveling down to look at his lips as he started blushing. Your head was wrapped around him, but you didn’t want to tell him that you had feelings for him at all.

“S-Sure… I don’t- I don’t mind.” He mumbled, his hands went back to your waist, holding you closer again. The air around you both became stronger and thicker with anticipation. Silence came over you again as your gazes kept wandering around in each other's faces. Your grip tightened around his tie, not wanting to let him go anytime soon. “We… We should clean up.” He said softly, licking his lips.

You didn’t respond at all, not wanting to break this moment between the two of you. All these thoughts that ran through your mind made you wonder what would happen if you really did kiss him right here and then. Would he return the kiss back to you or not? Will he regret it? Does he only think of you as a friend and crew mate only? Is it too soon? You hadn’t moved from the spot at all and neither had him. 

The urge to kiss him was too strong, the urge in general to just confess your feelings to him was unbearable in this moment. “Sanji, go rest up… Uhm- I’ll go now.” You told him, letting him go easily and grabbed the first aid kit, going back to the infirmary to put it away, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you into him again. 

“I don’t know if I’m going crazy or not, but… May I kiss you? If you let me of course.” He was holding you so close to him, his breath fanning near your face as you tried your best to resist kissing him without saying anything. He’s too good to be true. A simple nod came out of you as he sighed, “I need to hear your words, not just a nod. Please.” He begged you, gripping your waist with one hand as the right one came up to caress your cheek, his fingers sliding into your hair as he looked at you with- adoration?

“Yes, please… Just kiss me, Sanji.” Without warning, you leaned in to kiss his lips, wanting to feel his lips on yours now. The second you pressed a kiss to his lips, he held you so close, grabbing the first aid kit and throwing it to the counter, bringing you closer to his body as he kissed you passionately. In that moment, nothing else mattered besides your lips on his, kissing him desperately and filling the kiss with so much love and adoration.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi, I hope this isn't too heavy for an anon ask, but I truly don't know where else to ask this

when i saw your thread about child sex ed, I just wondered... did i accidentally assault my brother???

so for some context I was raped/CSA'd sometime before the age of 11 and it's fucked up my perception of what's considered appropriate. when we were little, my brother who is very close in age to me and I used to have a game of "going to the doctor" where we would go in the bathroom and just look at each other's bodies (in a nonsexual way, normal behavior for curious kids). the part that gets me is that I remember trying to get him to stick his fingers in my holes -- to his credit he always refused and I never physically forced him to do anything, but in retrospect the thought just makes me ill

and before you ask, yes, our sex ed as children was very spotty and pretty much ended at how babies are made

hi anon,

this is a heavy one, and I'm sorry you've been feeling gross about this.

for what it's worth, I don't think anything you're describing is inappropriate or particularly unusual. as you said, it's very normal for young children to examine each other's bodies. this is a very developmentally normal curiosity to have, especially between children who have noticed that their body parts look different. that can include exploring bodily cavities, and there's nothing inherently harmful or abusive about that. some years ago Lena Dunham got BLASTED as a child abuser for talking about looking at her baby sibling's vulva in her memoir, and that made me incredibly mad. Lena Dunham wasn't molesting her sibling; she was a curious child and people using completely ordinary childhood activities to call her a pedophile just because she's annoying fucking sucks.

listen. caveat: not all instances of children taking an interest in each other's bodies is harmless. molestation can very much occur between siblings, and cause lasting trauma. okay? that's a real thing. your fears are not baseless.

but it sounds like you and your brother were both engaging in consensual play and you didn't force the issue when he didn't want to digitally penetrate you. unless you feel like dredging the issue up with your brother, or he wants to bring it up and/or is exhibiting any signs of lasting sexual trauma, I think you are probably safe to assume that you didn't do any lasting harm.

it's understandable to have the ick about it now as an adult, with greater context. and it's very normal to be cautious and worried that you may have hurt your brother unintentionally. but please try not to be too hard on yourself about this. you were a kid doing things kids do. your intentions were not malicious, and being a kid unknowingly doing something that *might* hurt someone is not the same as being an abuser.

[notmorbid]

dead like me, season 1.

dialogue prompts from season one of bryan fuller's dead like me.

i excel at not giving a shit.

a sunny disposition goes a long way in any line of work.

if it's my lunch hour, why is it only 35 minutes?

i know what might cheer you up.

everyone always says the same shit at funerals.

why do you have to be such an asshole?

they're not invisible. you just can't see them.

leave the plastic. cash is king.

isn't stealing from dead people kind of tacky?

i'm sorry, i tuned you out. were you whining?

as childhood traumas go, nothing beats the realization that everything dies. including you.

unhappy people do unhappy things.

you need to leave now. you're making me tired.

souls go bad in all kinds of ways.

all you can ever hope to do is make it easier. that may not seem like a lot, but it is.

i think for me, death was just a wakeup call.

you know what your problem is? you wake up every morning wondering what the world's gonna do for you.

i'm going to say this as politely as possible: i will fuck you up.

i am really trying to respect you. i am. but it's really hard sometimes.

carving my own path seems like way too much work.

just so you know, i'm very prone to anxiety attacks.

most of the time i'm talking out of my ass. i don't know shit.

just smell some fucking roses already.

you know, you can talk to me about stuff. if you want to.

monotony is the mind killer.

what you do now matters. what you don't do matters.

what is an average heart, anyway?

the password's 'rimjob', if you want to get on.

i wish people were more complicated, but they're not.

i don't want my picture taken.

it's very tempting to think the little jewels from our lives will bring it all back. but they won't.

i was dreaming about frogs.

i'm pretty sure they put mind control drugs in the water cooler.

you can't come up with a more original way to act out?

intuitive thinkers are the worst.

people lie all the time. it's not a bad thing.

if a lie is big enough, there's an instinctive need to protect it. it's almost maternal.

i need somebody to give me lessons on how to communicate with you, because i'm at a loss.

i need to be unconscious.

have you ever kept a scrapbook?

the lengths i go to for free food.

you've got a worldly quality. a certain je nai se quoi.

falling's easy, you just fall. jumping requires strength of will.

my face gets sore if i smile too much.

do you have to be such an asshole?

there's a finite number of personalities in the world, and i have met them all.

no wonder your children don't come and visit you.

jesus christ, fella, cut the cord.

you always seem to go a different way than everyone else.

open door's an invitation. gotta jump while the door's open.

why do i keep losing all the things and people that i care about?

when you can't make sense of someone leaving, you try to make sense of what they left behind.

i just don't get our culture's obsession with moving on. what are we afraid of, remembering? being sad?

you want to steal something, don't you?

you want to be a bowling pin your whole life, or would you rather be the ball?

i'm sorry, i'm trying to flirt with you. it's not really my thing.

why are you stalking me?

i could burn you a really great cd, if you want.

your perversions are coming into disturbing focus.

not in that life, not in this one, not ever.

you get close enough to see the pain, and it's no longer funny.

i really liked kissing you.

we all create, in our heads, who we are. who we want others to be.

what fresh hell is this?

just because you're dead doesn't mean you have to give up.

i'm not good at the pet thing.

i don't exactly know where home is, these days.

if you don't know the difference between flipping and flopping, we're knee-deep in water without a paddle.

i'm concerned you don't know what you're asking for.

i think some people wander because that's who they are.

you are a very internal little creature.

is it wrong to decide someone's a great person because they're so much like you?

you want to get coffee? i think that's what you're supposed to say when somebody's having a fucked-up day.

you do know the story, right?

you didn't do anything wrong. i'm just screwed up.

i didn't know that was all the time we'd have.

a girl's got needs, you know. even a dead girl.

i'm sure there's going to be some karmic reward for you down the line.

how's the whole 'dead' thing working out for you?

everybody grieves in a different way.

i could've, should've. didn't.

when you're mourning yourself, closure is a little tricky.

the one death you never get over is your own.

you can go fuck a duck.

i think i'm going to miss you the most.

do you want to do some acid?

i feel that my current reality is altered enough.

traveling alone has a certain magic.

what, did you all get together to vote me off the island?

the world is a very big place, and you are not the center of it.

let's just pretend everything is back to normal.

if you stand too close to a painting, all you see are patches of color. stand too far back, and you're missing all the detail.

haunting is all about envy.

i've always wanted to knock over a liquor store.

people mostly just want to hear themselves talk.

i work better alone.

i love the books that people leave here.

if a tree falls in the forest, who gives a fuck?

you can't smoke in here.

you have no respect for authority, you know that?

this job is really getting in the way of the business of living.

you only have one shot at life. this isn't a dress rehearsal.

i'm sorry i wasn't sweeter.

i'm sorry i didn't show you as much affection as i felt for you. i did love you.

i keep forgetting how young you were.

i love cemeteries. the quiet. the stories on headstones.

[aroacesafeplaceforall]

You’re pissed that no one took any accountability for their supposed “aphobia/arophobia” but where is the accountability for the constant inhumane and disgusting homophobia, biphobia and transphobia STILL spewing out of ace spaces like puss? When will you all realize you feel that way because you are directly adjacent to the oppressor class and have next to nothing in common with the LGBT community as a whole but nearly everything in common with the average cishet? Y’all aren’t queer for not wanting to fuck, only fucking sometimes “if you emotionally connect”, or being emotionally unavailable to romantic partnership. And if you aren’t also gay, trans, or bisexual, you never will be.

I got my laptop out for this, goddamn. Where would i even start?

"You’re pissed that no one took any accountability for their supposed “aphobia/arophobia”" This tells me everything about you, you possibly don't believe in aro/ace identities. You don't believe people can hate on, or be hateful to, aro/ace spec people. And yes I am pissed. Because it was fucked up.

I would try to justify it with "if this was transphobic/homophobia you wouldn't be acting this way" but im guess you don't care about that as you obviously don't see it the same way.

you were also probably someone who sent asks like this (but more hateful) in 2016 and before, you were probably also someone who posted and reblogged aphobic content and said it was "just a joke" later while still sending asks like this to people. Take of that anon and show your face coward.

"where is the accountability for the constant inhumane and disgusting homophobia, biphobia and transphobia STILL spewing out of ace spaces like puss?"

where is the accountability for the homophobia, biphobia and transphobia still spewing out of ALL lgbtqia+ spaces? Where is the accountability in the REAL world? Where is it anon? Where is the accountability for the acephobia, the arophobia and so many other "not real sexualities/gender identities" -phobias?

You saw a post about aphobia, and instead of being like "yeah that was f-ed up" or "i dont care" you went "but what about meeeeee" which is very all lives matter of you. (I am not comparing racism to homophobia, however the "what about me" bs can be summed up very easily using all lives matter as an example) For the fucking record, all spaces have assholes, all of them. On behalf of the "normal" aro/ace spec folks, i apologise for any homophobia, biphobia and/or transphobia you have experienced from us. "When will you all realize you feel that way because you are directly adjacent to the oppressor class and have next to nothing in common with the LGBT community as a whole but nearly everything in common with the average cishet?" This is a main aphobe talking point so thank you for doing this by the text book so i can break it down easier!

Three pages about asexual hate crimes which im sure every average cishet has to deal with (assuming their white and male) 1 2 (a booklet for asexual people to be actually fucking included) 3

An incredible interview is here but im going to quote a few things from it as theres a 99.9% chance aphobes wont click a link

"We know aromantics and asexuals have existed for as long as humans have. However, it’s only through the terminology recently going mainstream"

"Because of Freud’s influence, many of us grew up learning that our sex drive is the primary motivator of human behavior, but that isn’t the case."

"That mindset replicates itself within the community so that when a new identity emerges, or when people try to explain themselves, there is resistance and pushback from within the community with the mindset that “if we let these kinds of people in, then that will dilute the access to power and resources we have.” And it forces the community to maintain adjacency to white supremacy, patriarchy, capitalism, ableism and classism, all while leaving behind entire groups of people."

" Do you think there will be more identities joining the LGBTQIA+ acronym? JP: Yes. The more words we have to describe ourselves, the better we are understood."

"The biggest comparisons are the lack of visibility and exclusion from communities on the basis that they’re weird, different, othered or “don’t belong in this space.” Every queer person has experienced this narrative and as more join under the umbrella, the newbie will experience the same challenges, discrimination and misunderstandings as those who came before." and here is another article that has a quote i just live by

"When did trauma become the mark of queerness?"

but back to the aphobe ->

"Y’all aren’t queer for not wanting to fuck, only fucking sometimes “if you emotionally connect”, or being emotionally unavailable to romantic partnership. "

if you think queer = sex then so help me. queer does not equal sex, queer is sexuality. and guess what that is NOT always sexual. sexuality is who your attracted to, whether it be romantically OR sexually.

and Asexuality is a spectrum, some asexuals never have sex, some don't want to have sex but have had it due to trauma or peer pressure, some don't care for it, some did it for a partner but just dont care about it.

same with aromantic. Its a spectrum. By your process here, so so so so so many people are removed from the lgbtqia+ community but you couldn't possibly mean that-

"And if you aren’t also gay, trans, or bisexual, you never will be."

-oh you did.

So none of these are part of the community either then? Agender, Bigender, Intersex, genderfluid, pansexual, omnisexual, Omnigender, Questioning, transgender and queer?

interesting anon.

Anyways i hope my followers enjoyed that! Let me know what you think if you finished reading all this!

Love;

An aegosexual, pansexual, aromantic, trans guy with to much fucking time on his hands.

[reimeichan]

It can sometimes be hard for me to know exactly how far I've come since I started working on DID recovery. My initial amnesia was pretty bad after all, and my day to day progress is slow enough that oftentimes it feels like nothing has changed at all. And I can't exactly just ask my therapist either, as I've had 3 therapist since I started DID-centered therapy work, along with 2 others before then to help me work on trauma stuff.

However, I was able to ask my partner, who's been with me since the beginning of this journey, to tell me what's changed in their perspective. They tell me that my day to day amnesia is significantly better: I'm much better at keeping track of things that I have done and things that I need to do, relying less on my notetaking apps and my alarms and calendars. And my moment to moment amnesia is a lot better, too. In the past, I would often "lose my train of thought" mid-conversation or mid-sentence and have to ask people to repeat for me what they just said or what the conversation was even about. I rarely have to ask people to repeat things for me now, unless my audio processing or my hearing loss gets in the way, but even then that's more about asking them to repeat a sentence instead of recapping a conversation we were in the middle of having.

It's been especially interesting comparing where I'm at in my healing journey to my partner who has only just recently hit system discovery. I see a lot of my own familiar past behaviors in them, how they space out mid-conversation and ask me what we were talkikg about, how they actively avoid thinking about difficult topics by distracting themselves, how they struggle recalling even basic things about their childhood or college days. College days that we shared together, that I can remember with clarity and nuance. And of course not everything about our experiences are the same, but... it's definitely a nice reminder to myself to see an example of where I was even just a few years ago, and where I am now.

I guess it's good to remind myself just how far I've come, and let myself be proud of that for a bit. I put in a lot of work to get to where I am today, after all. I'm glad to have gotten so far, to be able to help the people around me with their struggles and to also be a better support to them. And, of course, I'm just really happy I'm doing a lot better and struggling less myself. I never could have thought that I would be at the place I am right now, working a job I enjoy, living a life with the people I love and actually looking forward to waking up and seeing what the day will bring me. The hard moments are still there, but I can handle them so much better now, and the neutral and happy ones far outweigh them.