#they were going to meet up to talk trans shit and give her the pills when boom

[vampiremansionpoolboy-moved]

chishiya still giving kuina her estrogen pills when they’re in the borderlands bc he had some in his pocket

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, episode 17-20 thoughts! finishing up season two! the finale is the THIRD 2-PARTER OF SEASON 2. that's so many! I wonder how many season 3 will have?

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-UERGH WHY DOES VLAD HAVE AN AI WITH MADDIE'S FACE ON IT. SOOO CREEPY. AND MORE 'CREATIONS' waiiiit. vlad is Dr. Frankenstein! (despite his ghost design obviously referencing vampires) HE HAS 'CREATIONS' HE MAKES THEN WONT TAKE REAL RESPONSIBILITY FOR!!! this bitch.

-danny was late and his friends immediately start going off about how hes inconsiderate, and has been treating them like sidekicks??? he just overslept, my god. chill. even if he has, be nicer about talking about it with him?? he really can't help that he sometimes has to chase the ghosts, or has a secret identity to protect...

-'what kind of ghost haunts a miniature golf course' umm. me as a ghost. next question

-imagine going home and theres a tiny child on your bed claiming to be your cousin. with as many cousins I have, I would probably believe her. but the 'ran away from home' BIT....SHES 12?? SHES SO TINY. I hate that they have her belly out in her ghost form, but I like how her colors are asymmetrical. something about her design...maybe the proportions?? are weird to me...anyway danny was good to feed her, but he shouldve taken her to his parents FIRST. or, tbh, probably jazz. (JAZZ DIDNT EVEN GET TO MEET HER!!! NOOO. I mean she said she'll be BACK BUT STILL)

-ANYWAY. shes voiced by AnnaSophia Robb, the girl who was in because of winn dixie, played as violet from charlie and the chocolate factory, and was the girl from bridge to terrabithia. (the movie that made me cry hysterically when I was 12 and I never watched it again because it Broke Me!) thats super cool.

-vlad sucks: the episode, basically. what's new!! I love how he's like, I'm Not A Villain. *immediately cuts to him torturing danny to make him transform, to get mid-transformation DNA, to perfect a Clone.* *immediately shows that he doesnt give a shit about his new daughter Dani and just wants a ''more perfect clone'' and will put her in danger to get that. will let her DIE to get that*

-Dani is danny's clone and is a girl? transgenderism....one of them has to be trans. or they both are.

-dani just. leaving at the end. WHAT? SHES 12. DONT JUST. NO!!! SHE WAS PROBABLY JUST BORN, A MONTH AGO AT MOST, RIGHT?? SHE NEEDS...SOMEWHERE TO LIVE. MONEY? FOOD?? A FAMILY?? AN EDUCATION???! WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S LEAVING!!! OKAY BYE I GUESS!!! D: concern!!!

-the next ep opens with skulker chasing a ghost down. ...does skulker count as a ghost hunter in the way valerie and danny do? I mean, sure, he hunts the good guys too, but he. he hunts ghosts...also, we haven't seen his Real Form since his debut episode! tiny...

-the guys in white are back! ngl, I assumed they were a gag for that one episode. you're telling me they might actually be a threat? ok.

-valerie in her lil nasty burger uniform looks so cute!! glad shes not in that mascot uniform this time. I guess she stopped hiding that she's working there now?

-gregor having white hair, dressed in black and white...and green eyes...sam has a Type, I guess.

-danny being unnecessarily hostile about gregor. danny!!! hes been nice so far. he looks a little...tall to be 14, but. danny doesnt know anything about him! (he does Suspect, but...you cant just spy on people and be rude to them from a hunch.) also, gregor kissed her, and when she freaked out, he was like 'oh no!! sorry, we can take it slow! I understand!' which was NICE. I hate jealousy plots still tho.

-altho. umm. tucker, being concerned about danny spying on them??? SAM AND YOU WERE SPYING ON DANNY AND VALERIE A FEW EPISODES AGO!!!!! im not saying its RIGHT, but dont be a hypocrite!!! AND THEN SAM BEING MAD ABOUT IT, TOO.

-DANNY IS A 7 ON THE SCALE OF ECTOPLASMIC POWER!!! out of 10? so I want to know where the other ghosts rank...I mean it's a list from the guys in white, so, it may not even be accurate, like, they havent seen ALL of his powers, have they?

-Lancer being like 'im not cooperating with the FEDS' until they said they could access his tax records. they already did that joke with jack, but like, its still funny. kings of tax evasion.

-tucker's aggressive third-wheeling. but gregor being super into it. gregor/tucker is the real ship here. then gregor kissing danny on both cheeks after hugging him. bi poly king gregor. (he does turn out to be a liar with a phoney accent. unsurprising, BUT THE CONCEPT OF HIM BEING GENUINE AND THEM ALL DATING IS FUN)

-THE...GUYS IN WHITE THINKING GREGOR IS DANNY PHANTOM. LMAOOO. GET HIS ASS. or,, Elliot. lmfao

-sam saying tucker is part of the package because theyre friends was super sweet <3 but also 'part of the package'...polyships are obviously the solution to these dumb jealousy/love triangle plots.

-danny crashed a whole plane. the collateral damage...

-is he....

-you know....

.... (ITS NOT GAY IF YOU'RE DOING IT TO PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE YOU'RE NOT, AND LIE TO A GIRL. RIGHT? he was getting a little too into pretending to enjoy tucker's company, and the above...c'mon, guy.)

-lmao, freakshow is in actual prison. I didn't expect a follow up, or for him to show back up! in the finale of this season, too!

-THE SICK TATTOO GHOST IS NAMED LYDIA!!! more Lore On her. freakshow seemed genuinely concerned about her. also, is she mute? I don't think she talked the first time we saw her, either. and we didn't know freakshow 'envied' ghosts, either, the first time, we just knew he was controlling them. interesting!

-...they literally stole the infinity gauntlet from marvel and called it the reality gauntlet. is that legal. what the fuck. even with the gems in the lil slots, having different powers...they had freakshow in jail, but didnt check his pockets??! hes just still in his lil outfit??? what kind of ...oh, its in amity park. yeah, all of the adults are idiots, okay, sure.

-'freakshow!' 'in the anemic flesh!' dude take some iron pills then. also, sure, the red eyes could be contacts for his aesthetic, but the whites of his eyes are yellow! does he have jaundice?! he severely needs more...like, every kind of vitamin. (this is what im worried about as freakshow attacks danny with giant robots)

-again, goth circus is a sick theme, and I love his goth train.

-oh FUCK every single person saw danny transform. on a stage. including his parents via TV. oh god. the guys in white and immediately like 'youre coming in for experiments!' SCARY. at least the crowd is willing to help him to escape...perks of now being a local celeb! even the kids at school are accepting :) this is what, the third time his family has found out? its always been an alt timeline tho. and danny fully intending to just rewrite things again instead of...I dunno, trying to roll with it this time? hes really worried his family won't accept him, huh...

-'maybe our son IS THE GHOST BOY, but its not as if our family's ghostly activities have EVER PUT YOUR FAMILIES IN DANGER' maddie. mmmmmmmmmmmm. okay.

-danny 100% prepared to run away from home because of this :( oh :( and saying his parents are 'looking for him, or a scalpel to dissect him with' ouch...

-THE GUYS IN WHITE TRYING TO ARREST A 14 YEAR OLD. fuck da feds.

-side note (another one about voice actors...) freakshow's voice actor, Jon Cryer, was lex luthor in pretty much every DC tv show, which is why I recognized his voice, because my dad loves those shows so I've seen a good bit of them without seeking them out...)

-the old man saying 'hey, i still had minutes left!' and danny saying 'you gotta watch those roaming charges!' about danny destroying the people in the diner's phones so no one could report seeing him...would kids today understand these things. can you even BUY minutes anymore...I remember my first phone being a flip phone, and the fact I always had minutes when my sister ran out super fast, because I didnt have friends calling or texting me like she did...:/

-the fentons being genuinely like 'why didnt danny trust us and tell us this, we love him :(' and JAZZ LAYING INTO THEM WITH THE 'DISSECTION/MOLECULE BY MOLECULE' LINES. LITERALLLLY. they need to apologize

-technically, lydias stronger than you! -jazz lesbianism moments! when did you even learn her name!!! but also get freakshows ass. lydia is also cooler looking. looove her design sm still.

-jazz psychoanalyzing freakshow... (also, her also having ghost envy? au where jazz is a ghost!! id like to see it)

-im glad the kids still got to go to their respective vacation things, even if they cant really stick around and enjoy them much...

-furry: confirmed. (also tucker calling her hot. tucker is a furry confirmed)

-danny being mad someone at the comic con is selling comics of him without permission, lmfao. give him his royalties!

-freakshow > thanos because hes a drama clown and does use his gauntlet to be FLASHY AND DRAMATIC.

-jazz's 'USE PYSCOLOGY' to danny about freakshow LMAOO. AND THEN IT WORKING. but, oh, freakshow's ghost form sucks. I like him as a clown better tbh. good thing danny took away his ghost powers!

-his parents hugging him and saying theyre proud :"( and saying 'of course you lied to us, we never gave you a reason not to!' and saying they were in the wrong basically for always talking about hurting ghosts aaaa :""(

-then he WIPED THEIR MEMORIES AGAIN!!! FUCK. I can understand him wiping the goverments/student bodies' memories, but why his parents?? they were being accepting!! ARGHHH. season 3 couldve been them all trying to adjust to them knowing!

-I know, on a meta level the showrunners probably wanted to just reset things to the status quo of him having a secret identity. But. We've been doing that for (2) seasons, I'd love if season 3 could be like, his parents adjusting to this and trying way harder to learn more and accept it (and the shenanigans that could come from that) and for fun, if he didn't wipe the students memories, it could be him being popular for a while, then everyone slowly realizing, oh, he's still Danny. Like. he might have ghost powers but hes Just The Same Guy instead of putting him on a pedestal (and seeing them all try and help him hide it from the giw/people who don't know!!)

-fuck they didn't even explain WHY he wiped everyone except sam, tucker and jazz's memories. he just Did It right when his parents were saying they loved/accepted him!! and sam and tucker didnt question it at all!!! HELLO??? very annoyed about this turn of events.

-anyway. onto season 3! I know its shorter than the first two seasons, and is the last season... I might just do it in 2 bursts if I can... :3c depends on the episodes' content and how much I want to say about each!

[fletchphoenix]

Little Secret

Okay this is chapter 9 of the High School AU

PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION - TW for an attempt at s**c*de, s*lf h*arm and some other morbid shit. please don’t read / skip over the italics if you aren’t comfortable reading about those topics. Please. This is more of a vent piece as well but please be careful.

I love you all so so much.

As Hugo left, Varian let himself lay back on his bed and let out a huff. Wincing at the constricting feeling in his chest, he changed into his pyjamas and laid back in bed. Ruddiger, ever the saint, sat beside his head and let out gentle noises to soothe him, nuzzling his cheek against the boy’s as he calmed him enough to settle into a deep sleep.

----------------------

Teardrops dripped from his eyes and onto his phone as his breath shook with each inhale and exhale he took. Blue light from the screen stung the already teary eyes, the hurtful words that looked back at him instead of his reflection on the screen made the suffering even worse. His throat burned as he swallowed down acidic bile and his shoulders shook. Still, he couldn’t take his eyes away as the shock of the situation finally set in and his hand flew to his stomach, his gags finally ceasing after a few minutes.

He was well aware of the blood that rolled down his arm, indents from fingernails also stinging and buried deep into the pale, freckled skin that now had an ugly coat of scarlet that concealed them from his view. It ran down onto the bed steadily, not even ceasing as it still continued to run and flow across the expanse of skin and pool onto the sheets. They were red anyway. It fit right in, only a slightly deeper red than the covers.

Raising his head, he looked into the mirror - a true sight to see. Rather than a sight for sore eyes, he looked like something that would make someone gouge their eyes out. He wouldn’t blame them either. He felt like a freak, the weight of his secret almost crippling in his brain. Everything looked wrong about him - the way his hips jutted out too much for a boy, his overly feminine face, his chest...he wanted to rip that off. The material that constricted it made it almost hard to breathe every day, his chest heaving as he knew he had it on for too long, but he couldn’t risk taking it off. He just couldn’t.

Quirin had lost it when he found the last one, so buying a new one would be...too difficult. Well, as soon as the man had found out Varian’s secret, he’d lost it on the boy. Told him he’d ‘never be his son’ and refused to even look at him for a few days. He hated it when he cut his hair, even though he’d always kept it at a moderate length to keep Quirin happy. Well, if Quirin wasn’t going to call him his son, he wasn’t going to call him father.

What he hadn’t anticipated was this.

He only told one person his little secret. His almost deadly secret that he couldn’t risk getting spread because he’d already been transferred from Old Corona High to Saporia High, Old Corona apparently not being ‘good enough’. He’d left behind all his friend, everyone he’d ever cared about was gone and he wasn’t going back. 

He met Andrew in his first week and almost instantly they’d bonded. They bonded over thinking the Corona High students were snobs and didn’t even deserve the air they breathed. He’d told Varian that everything he did was great and encouraged him to do more. He cared for Varian when his father was being difficult and had wiped away countless tears. He’d been there for him no matter what. 

So he told Andrew his little secret.

He’d told Andrew. Andrew swore he wouldn’t tell anyone. Well, he swore until Varian befriended Rapunzel and her husband, Eugene. He didn’t even know he hated the pair, oblivious to the fact until Andrew had forced him to stop talking to them just the other day. Obviously he’d refused - why wouldn’t he? Rapunzel and Eugene cared for him. They loved him.

And so Andrew told everyone. Everyone in Saporia High knew his little secret, which is definitely not what he needed in a school that was almost built on republican values. It ached and pulled at his heart as he threw his phone across the room, it banging against the wall and he could swear he heard the shattering of the screen. It didn’t matter though anymore - not as if his father would have to fix it.

He rose to his feet. He had some business to attend to.

The burning returned as shaky legs dragged him towards the bathroom, fists clenched and locked himself in there, the tears still rolling down his cheeks. He felt too warm all of a sudden, sweat gathering and forming beads along his eyebrow as he heaved for breath and a pain spread and blossomed throughout his chest. He’d closed his eyes as he pulled off his shirt before he opened his eyes and stared at the binder that covered his chest. He wasn’t right. He didn’t know why he was born the way he was. The still shaking hands raised to open the glass cabinet in front of him as he took out two containers of pills. If he wasn’t gonna be listened to, he’d make them hear him.

The next time he woke up, all he heard was the persistent beeping of a monitor. A heart rate monitor. He remembered that from when his mother was in hospital. His vision was still blurred as he looked around the room, faces of doctors with masks and nurses opening doors appearing first, then the face of a familiar blonde rushing to his bedside as soon as the aforementioned door was even the slightest bit open. 

“Rapunzel.” He coughed, forcing a smile onto his features. Everything ached. His stomach ached. He let out a wheezy cough as a dainty hand was raised to press against his cheek, the touch welcome and spreading a cooling touch against his skin. He felt too hot. Far too hot. He assumed that was normal, the humid air of the hospital being uncomfortable. The place was too sterile as well, too uniform.

Distantly, he heard screams of ‘Vivian! I want to see my daughter!’. Quirin. He raised his head from the comforting hand pressed to his cheek and dread filled his stomach. “Please don’t let him in.” He gulped, Eugene moving away from the bedside to stand in front of the door and help the staff holding the man back.

 Rapunzel gripped his hand, a poor distraction as Eugene stopped Quirin from entering. “Oh Varian, we were so worried.” The soothing tone of the woman replied, the yelling outside ceasing as Eugene took a glance over. In fact, Lance and the girls were there as well as Cassandra and her girlfriend. A sad smile graced his features as he leant into the hand resting on his face and tears rolled down his cheeks.

“...And for as long as I live, you’ll never see him again!” The finishing yell of Eugene declared as the door to his room slammed shut and he rushed to his side, giving a silent nod to Rapunzzel. “Kid, you’re living with us. I’ll go get all your stuff and whatever you need, I just...fuck, kid. You should’ve told us sooner. We could’ve helped you, V. We didn’t know it was...that it was that bad. I just...fuck. I'm so sorry, Varian. I’m so sorry.” He explained, very clear tears welling in the man’s eyes as he apologised profusely to the boy.  

By the end of the week, Eugene and Rapunzel had helped him move out and set up his room in the attic of their house. He didn’t want to be an inconvenience to them, but the couple seemed to welcome him with open arms as they took him away from Quirin. They’d also arranged for him to start at Corona High instead, having helped him legally change his name to Varian. No one would know other than the teachers.

Thank god.

------------------------

Varian woke up with a start, sitting up and wheezing. Oh, that was right. Hesitantly, the boy gripped at the sheets before removing his shirt and the binder residing under it before putting the shirt back on again. Rapunzel had always been sure to tell him when he had to take it off, ever the observant. She’d also always been the one to tell him to take his hormones. He knew she and Eugene loved him even after he came out.

But would Hugo? Well, that was a whole different story but...fuck it.

His fingers drifted to pick up his phone. 2:37am. He took a deep breath. He was sure Hugo would still love him either way, even if he wasn’t a biological boy. He was still Varian and he was still the boy Hugo fell in love with. Inner turmoil filled him as he let out a determined breath and dialled his number before raising the phone to his ear. There was no going back.

“Sweetheart, what’s up?” The raspy voice on the other end asked. God, he sounded amazing. Guilt still settled in his stomach as he took a large gulp. Shit, he was calling Hugo at 2am. They had school tomorrow and he’d probably woken the other up. Oh fuck, he’d certainly hate him now- “Baby, you gonna talk? I’ve gotta finish this level on-”

“I’m trans. Well, I was a girl. But I’m a boy. Well, I was never really truly a girl, I’ve always felt like a boy and I guess what I’m trying to say is I’ve always been a boy but I have a girl’s body and I thought you should know.” He stuttered out, silence meeting him on the other end of the phone. He facepalmed mentally, wanting to just curl up and die. Was he really this awkward? Why couldn’t he have just been normal and told Hugo face to face. ‘Hello my ridiculously handsome boyfriend, I’m transgender and I hope you love me!’

“Oh..” The other finally said. Varian could tell he was carefully choosing his next words, he could practically hear the cogs in his head turning in the deafening silence. “Well, I still love you and that isn’t gonna get rid of me, V. But thanks for telling me. You’re still my amazing boyfriend and I don’t love you any less.”

“Thanks Hugh. Sorry, I’ll let you finish your game. I uh-I love you. Goodnight.” He replied, hanging up and setting his phone aside as he stared at the ceiling. Hugo didn’t care. Hugo still loved him either way. A warm feeling filled his chest and a goofy grin took over his features as he slowly, but surely, fell into a deep and very happy sleep.

[fucker-anon]

Bloody Painter Headcanons

am i gonna write about helen even tho no one cares? fUCK YEA @creepy-bi-day hope you enjoy. Im still not a writer sorry :/. also my personal hcs, its okay to disagree. Also dark themes again. 

Bloody Painter

Backstory:

was born on Oct 1st, 1980, fully name Helen Otis

mother is white, father is Japanese

is an only child. Helen’s parents had a very difficult time in getting pregnant like yeeeaaars (10 ish) and they also really wanted a girl. Like in their head, they would be getting a girl. and when they did get pregnant the ultra scan did show a girl. so they were in shock when a boy popped out. 

they no likely. Since helen’s mom was a teacher, they decided to raise the boy as a girl and simply homeschool them until they had to go to college, once there they could simply transition into a girl. This is how they thought trans people were so they thought they’ll do the same to get a girl (This was obliviously wrong)

so they tried to do that but mother couldn’t get the needed forms and paperwork to homeschool Helen so they had to go to school. so their parents decided the best thing to do was to make them as manly as possible in 6 months. so everything pink and girl (lots of which were comfort items like plushies, and art things) were thrown out in front of poor 6 year old Helen who didn’t understand what was happening. Helen couldn’t do art, couldn’t wear certain clothes, couldn’t say certain things. punishments weren’t physical but there was a lot of yelling.

around the 3 month before school started, their parents decided that maybe Helen should meet their grandparents (parents kept giving excuses why they couldn’t visit). everything was going swell until the grandparents on the father’s side asked why name their BOY a GIRL name. before the parents could say anything, helen said “cause im a girl?” ... yaaaa queerphobic grandparents and little helen didn’t get along. plus helen was white passing so asian grandparents blamed their mom.

parents cut contact with the grandparents, and yelled at helen a lot. (poor bby) this mental abuse continued over 3 months and caused helen to stop talking and start repressing a lot of his feeling which his parents encouraged cause “”bOYs donT hAve fEeLinGs””

in school, the parents told the teacher that there was a mix up when filling out his name and that they should call him Otis. Of course one teacher messed up and called him Helen, and then they got a lot of comments form their peers, but they learned not to say that they were a girl at this point. 

helen was lightly bullied for his name, and when they tried to tell a teacher they were told to “man up :))” 

and so more repressing feelings

it wasn’t until middle school where someone (a kid who they later learned was named tom), stole and planted a watch of another girl into helen’s bag. This meant helen’s bullying got a lot worse. Before it was a comment here or there, now it was physical and a lot often. this is also when he began to develop symptoms of anxiety and depression.

he slowly became friends with Tom, who was also bullied a lot. But one day Tom took Helen to the roof where Tom confessed into planting the watch. Helen was very upset, and the two started to argue when Tom slipped off the edge, Helen tried to hold on to Tom, but Tom let go of his hand. Tom dead.

there was an investigation done, and Helen wasn’t in trouble as some students and teachers said how they saw him hold onto Tom. The school was given a speech about how bullying was bad, and tried to get things back to normal. Helen’s bully did die down, tho lots of ppl tried to spread rumors about how he pushed Tom. 

his parents were more upset over how this would look and not about Helen’s mental health. Helen never told them about the bulling. 

When high school started, the bullies acted as if nothing happened. and on Halloween, Helen snapped and killed 5 of the main bullies. He was caught and sent to a mental hospital. 

so you think that finally, Helen can get the help they need right :)). ahhah no....

so the hospital did diagnose Helen with depression and a mild case of anxiety, but basically put them on pills. the actually therapist had a very hard time getting Helen to open up. this is because the on their first session helen started with his gender identity, and the therapist told him “look you are biologically a boy, so you must be a boy :))” and when they said that sometimes he felt more comfortable when they were more fem, they was told that was wrong. 

so helen shut up like a clam cause they did not feel safe with this guy

at least they learned how to somewhat manage their depression and anxiety :)

once helen turned 18 he was released, and Helen decided to be an artist and not kill. but he saw another one of his bullies and said fuck it.

slender saw and was like “i like this child. imma adopt them”

and Helen joined the mansion

Personality:

look Helen was mocked and betrayed by basically every person in their life, they don’t trust ppl

they are nice, but they don’t new people

if you’re nice they’ll be nice, if you’re mean they’ll be mean, simple

cold hearted, look if you are neutral to them and get run over by car they wont do anything. the world was shit to them, they’re shit back.

quiet. like Helen could be inches away and you still won’t hear them

buttttt if you get close (good luck) you see a passionate, kinda nerdy, very kinda touch starved, sarcastic person who just lived a shitty life. 

Fun Facts:

k mans has a 6 inch dick, 7 when hard, but is thick, and stretches you out-

*cough* moving on-

bi sexual. Helen has a very hard time acknowledging romantic feelings but is down to date the girls, gays and theys. again good luck getting there but it may happen.

gender fluid Helen has come a long way and their gender identity has ranged from girl, boy, both, none and yes. They’ve settled on gender-neutral pronouns but doesn’t hate being called she/her or he/him usually. On a bad day, they can’t say the same. 

Called them painter. The only ppl who can called them by their birth names are ppl who are close to them. On fem days, they like Helen. On masc days, they like Otis. Sometimes they don’t care, sometimes they just wanna be called painter. If you’re not sure and you actually care just ask, he’ll say what day it is. usually they dress accordingly, but still if you’re not sure ask, they’ll prefer it.

Speaking of clothes, the fit??? is on point???? like imagine dark academia with more blues, blacks and tans. Helen looks like the protagonist of a boarding school au.

they will wear skirt and dresses and corsets, and do they’re (slightly basic) hair and makeup.

some creeps (jeff) tried to make fun of helen for this. And when you look at Helen you dont think that they’re much of a fight. Helen’s lean and kinda thin (kid doesn’t eat a lot), but Helen did karate for year cause their dad wanted their “perfectly normal son” to do something manly and kinda close to their culture. Helen learned how to fight with a very good guard and how to be very fast but not so much strong. Wasn’t until he got out of the mental hospital did he learn about pressure points, specially those that dont need a lot pressure :) you see where this is going. 

Basically Helen is that one movie character who touches a spot on someone's neck and they pass out. (this is the best i can describe it, they dont do this exactly but similar things) 

also very talented at art and arty things. like annoyingly good. he’ll try wood craving and make amazing things after only learning about it an hour ago. Current draws online and does online commissions to pay for his coffee

actually likes hunting, not with gun but with like bows an arrows. they dont hunt often cause they like animals

has to finish whatever they’re working on. please force this baby into bed

has a coffee addiction

likes classical music and lofi. 

dont talk about the whole painting with blood thing, they were 14, it was cringey, they know

hair is like chin length ish, its black with waves, so if they wanna be masc they can tie it up and when its fem, they can let it down and straighten it 

forgets to eat, feed them

k this is long. As you can see I can also write a whole essay about Helen. I will write about Helen’s and Johnny friendship, along with the other creeps later. but im tired. 

[diegolabhont]

I didn't mean to fall in love with you

Chapter One

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing:  Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC  (Beck Hughes)

Genre: None (in this post, al least)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really.

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Can someone explain to her how a person who claims to be so disinterested in the ranking was magically climbing to the top twenty?

Poppy didn’t buy it for a second, she always knew Beck were going to be a pain in her ass ever since the first time she saw them looking at her as if they weren’t impressed, but she wasn’t fully aware of how much.

“You don’t have to worry about them, Poppy” Chloe said while the strawberry blonde retouch her make up in the mirror inside her own room. “Beck is just a dude”

“Transphobia much, Chloe?” Veronica murmured playfully, wanting to start drama among her streaming fans.

“No! What I'm saying is… Beck's brain works as a regular dude, right? How much smart can they be?”

“Ha! That´s rich coming from you” Veronica laughed.

Both girls started a discussion about related shit, Beck’s brain, hormones and else while Poppy put on the mascara. Completely silent, thinking.

She treated Beck as a common enemy, she attacked them just like she would to any other lost lamb trying to be the wolf but it was not enough. Even one of those plans exploded in her own face: ruining and breaking Beck's guitar caused that they not only get a flashy and beautiful new one, but sang side by side with the one and only Jaylen Riaz, making a huge performance. Even better than hers, which was something painful and humiliating at the same time, especially after Veronica told her Beck’s YouTube channel had a followers increase, making them even more popular.

Chloe was right on something: Beck’s brain worked like a dude, and if she had learned something was that men in general were manipulable. Take a look at Michael, he was dumb as hell. Liam was a douchebag. Luis, Ford… well, they… they´re there. The only golden boy among them was Carter, and yet, he wasn´t that hard, she just gave him what he wanted in that party and after that, everything ran smoothly.

And that´s what she needed.

Poppy´s look changed, her eyes sparkled in a very malicious way and a smile crossed her face for a split second. She now had a plan, and unexpectedly, it was a Chloe attribution.

“Maybe if we accused them of cheating…?” Chloe suggested, but Poppy knew better.

“That won´t be necessary, Chlo” Poppy intervened for the first time in a while, making both girls look at her intrigued. They knew Poppy, and the little smile she had on her lips as she applied lipstick was a proof. The blonde was onto something juicy. Veronica ended the live and awaited. “Beck will be mine.”

~~X~~

It was kinda lame to her, but finding Beck completely alone under the football stands playing guitar was at least convenient. They were an eye candy from the start, that was a fact. The way that white t-shirt embraced their body was something else to see, her mind went back to the second time she saw them. The sassy rock star kind of look Beck had, even the haircut was perfect, Poppy knew that was a Zoey Wade signature and she kinda thanked her for it. Beck was damn fine, that fact made easier her plan to be honest.

“You know… You do pass pretty well as a man”

Beck stopped playing, literally frozen in place as a statue.

“What did you just say?” Their tone of voice was cold, almost insulted. Did she just get it wrong? No, she´s never wrong. A Queen can´t be wrong, especially a Min-Sinclair queen.

“It was a compliment, Farmsville” she said, rolling her eyes.

“That´s not a compliment” Beck chuckled, putting the guitar aside. “I mean, I don´t mind, but if you are going to use that to the trans community… It~ may not end well” Poppy frowned, a little pissed off. She was doing an effort, no-one had ever heard a compliment from her and this little sh… “But thanks.” Beck offered her a sweet smile a second before turn it into a mocking one. “You do pass pretty well as a woman, too”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“And now she gets it!” They started laughing, making her really angry. Poppy walked away fuming, her head up high and a killer look murdering anyone who dare crossing ways with her.

That stupid ASSHOLE. Did they THINK they could disrespect her?! To HER! She was the number ONE, the fucking RULER of the entire school. Beck was lucky enough to be in her radar and they just throw stupid shit like that!

“To be fair… I did say it first”

“I thought it was a COMPLIMENT” She fight against herself. “What am I? Some trans expert?!”

“No… But I can be. I mean, to destroy my enemy…”

“I have to know them...”

Even thought she was still mad about it, Poppy tapped wildly though her phone. She needed to do something, and she knew just the thing.

“It´s ON, jackass”

~~X~~

POV: Beck

Top fifteen. Everyone was losing their shit because they were now top twenty and Beck... Well... They just didn´t want it.

And yeah, sure, that was kinda good. The students in Belvoire had begun to pay attention to their music as well, Beck even caught a few of them listen to songs Beck wrote and some other cover as well. Their art was taking off and that was awesome, don't get it wrong, that was something Beck wanted for so long, but...

They were afraid.

What if it was because of the stupid ranking?

What if Beck just wasn´t that good, and the only thing people would want was that Beck who studded up against Poppy Min-Sinclaire and lived to tell? Even Zoey, she was talking about popularity, Belvoire elite, and some “Person to watch-out” or shit Award which yes, was huge! But… Beck really was afraid that it was Beck who puts the music high and not backwards.

What if…

What if Poppy really messes all up?

“You know… You do pass pretty well as a man”

Poppy´s words in their mind caught Beck off guard. What was her deal anyway? She came and said some weird shit, and...

Actually, everything in that interaction was weird as fuck. And not just that, Beck meet Taylor by accident later that day in the ice cream shop, they both talked a little and they found out she had a big crush onto some random guy Beck didn´t knew before.

Of course Beck was the matchmaker! They even helped her by carrying those stupid anti-diarrheic pills to the lion´s den. Ok, yes, maybe~ Beck should´ve had given them to someone and not just let them in the front door… But it wasn´t their fault that The T found out!! Poppy was losing it, and of course it was them to blame.

Why can´t they just have a normal life… with normal problems… and not… this?

“I´m dead… I´m actually dead…” Beck thought while burying their head on their hands, tired.

“Beck? Hello? I assume you heard the details of the assignment.”

“What?”

“Ehm… Yeah! Totally” Beck said with a “confident” smile that nobody believed in, Professor Roberta even frowned before going back to the lecture, while Beck tried uselessly to catch something about the assignment from their classmates´ laptops. She hated Beck anyway, but it wasn´t good news to be always in her bad side.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! … What did she say?”

“Mass comm is all about reaching people far and wide, so this project is meant to give the voiceless in our own community a voice by…”

A penetrant gaze nailed their nape, giving them chills. Beck immediately looked for that one hawk over them and not to their surprise the person found on the other side was that deadly beauty called Poppy Min-Sinclair, watching Beck as they´re a prey. Feeling really drove up the wall, Beck winked playfully at her, expecting her to look away or some rude expression towards them.

But no.

Scaring the shit out of them, Poppy actually smiled back at Beck. A sweet, flirty smile that left them feeling their heart racing as crazy and their cheeks burning red, her dark eyes so into theirs that all their system collapsed... What was happening?

“Earth to Beck!”

Professor Roberta yelled, making Beck jump a little in their sit, breaking all eye contact between them both. When did Beck turn their body completely to watch Poppy? Of course the professor was mad, Beck was practically giving her their back! As faster as they could, Beck took the right seat, being even more embarrassed now while Poppy let go a chuckle, they could hear her from any other laughter just as clearly as if she were so close.

“Oh, sorry. I… Sorry”

“Find your community service project partner please” Professor said. Beck gathered their things and head into the aisle, looking around, praying to find someone whiling to work with them and, mainly, explain to them what was that project about. The thing was everyone had already a partner. Everyone except for…

The strawberry blonde was gazing Beck as sure as someone who´s waiting for this chance can be. Smiling that same smile that caused them to feel butterflies in their stomach… Beck wasn´t sure if they were aroused… or scared.

“Professor Roberta… I need a new partner” Beck practically begged. “I´m sorry. I just can´t work with Poppy.”

The pretty but odd teacher was about to say something. Something bad based on the expression on her face, but a perfect made-up laughter cut her words, as Beck was feeling how a soft and warm hand hooked to their arm.

“Nonsense, professor! I am pretty sure we´ll be working just fine.” Poppy said, a relaxed expression drawn on her porcelain face. “Let´s go, Hughes.”

Ok, Beck was now scared. As both of them walked out the classroom, Beck´s brain was running wild, thinking about every and each form Poppy could use to disappear them from the face of the earth. Ironic, Beck survived Farmsville but they´ll be totally done in New York. Ha! Life hates them.

“Listen, I know what you are thinking…”

Really?

“... but the last thing I need right now is having my GPA taken away. So I´ve already figured it all out. We´re doing an animal shelter commercial for our project. I can ask daddy to borrow the equipment and crew”

“Didn´t think of you as a daddy person” Beck laughed, a little more repose.

“Shut the fuck up, Farmsville. This will be easy, so all I need you to do is… Oh my god.”

Poppy stared at her phone completely in shock, color draining from her face as it was sucked by a dementor.

“I have to go. We can figure out the deets later, I´ll text you where to meet me”

Then, she just left. Beck took a deep breath and let out a hiss.

“Gosh, this school is going to kill me!”

They said, who would have thought a class could be so much?

-----

Next

[lemonadebloodsworld]

Tw: ED (??), sh, depression, suicidal thoughts, abuse (??)

So yeah,

It feels weird to come back here even if it's a more recent account. The first time I made a tumblr account was when I was 13 and back then I was already really depressed because of trauma, my relationship with my parents and the fact that they were always saying that I faked being depressed and was just being dramatic and other shitty stuff.

Back then they thought I was a gay girl too but yeah I'm a bi trans boy and it makes everything so damn harder because everytime I try to talk about my mental health my mom just says that it's JUST because I'm trans and I should just be patient and wait to be 18 to start a transition while yes, dysphoria and the fact that my family isn't really supportive make me sad but my mental health has been getting so damn bad.

I've never really been a happy child, my parents divorced when I was 3-4, my mom found my stepdad who has always been an asshole to me and my little brother because we are not his "real" kids and would always yell at us and hit my brother and my mom has always been depressive and mentally ill (Ed, depression and trauma) so she is scared of him ig, anyways, she just never said anything about it, even when she noticed that we were really scared of him.

My bio father was supposed to take us at his place every weekend but after a year he stopped coming and dissappeared for 9 years. At the same time I started to get bullied at school by older kids and some kids in my class and I didn't have any friends because it was a shame for them to be friend with me.

At 11, I have been sexually assaulted by an older kid (he was 15 or something) leaving me with trauma.

At 12 I changed school and found friends, I was so unused to it and ashamed of my past that I spent my time lying to them so they'll like me and think I'm cool, I also started to smoke and drink in secret because I felt so much pain and the intrusive thoughts started to get loud.

At 13 my bio dad came back in my life because he owed a lot of money to my mom and wanted to use us to make my mom feel bad about it. I started self-harming lightly and depression started to settle in but I wasn't really understanding what was going on because the "hypomanic" phases and intrusive thoughts were getting more present causing me to lose the only friends I had and yeah I just didn't understand what the hell was going on. I tried to talk about my mental health to my parents but they told me that I was being dramatic and it's a normal thing to feel bad because I was an adolescent and questioning my identity (I came out as a lesbian back at this time) and decided to just punish me and take my phone away because I was spending too much time alone in my room and didn't do the chores.

At 14 I started to have a lot of anxiety and panic attacks while being in depressive episodes, I started an ed (feeling shameful for eating even a little amount of anything and purging, I don't want to give it any name because I have been diagnosed and yeah), I also began to self-harm more and deeper (still not bad, I don't want to lie for that type of stuff xd), I broke down one day and told everything to my parents (sh, depressive tendencies, smoke, suicidal thoughts etc) and once again they were like "yeah nah it can't be that bad, you just lie to have attention and have an excuse to stay in your room and just being stupid" but my mom saw my arms and thights and then was okay for me to go see a psychologist. So for a year I had the opportunity to talk with a professional who was really amazing, she prescribed me light sleep pills because of my insomnia while in depressive episodes and "hypomanic" (don't have a diagnosis but I have all the symptoms but then again I don't want to self diagnose because it could be wrong and be something else) ones but my mom always refused to give them to me. At the end of the year she wanted an appointment with my mom to talk about my mental health and the importance for me to go see a therapist to be diagnosed (bipolar disorder 2 (she was still questioning it) , anxiety disorder and depression or whatever, she just wanted me to have the help I needed) but then again my mom said no because I was surely just faking it all and I just had to make efforts to be happy. I was so tired of everything and just wanted to feel better so I started to steal my mom depression medication (mostly Xanax and calming pills).

At 15 I met my first serious girlfriend, I fell in love so hard with her and for the first month she really helped me to stop sh, pills, drinking and everything was great until she started to verbally abuse me using my dysphoria and fragile subjects I told her about (she would say that I'm annoying and selfish for always feeling bad and that u was too sensitive and not a real boy if I cried) once I wasn't agreeing with her, slap and hit me if I said something she wasn't okay with or when I would have anxiety attacks or talk to her about my suicidal thoughts while in depressive episodes and yeah she used me like if I was a dog, if she wanted something or think in some way I would have to give her or do whatever she wanted or I would get threatened, insulted or ignored for a long time or other icky stuff. After 6 months of making me feel guilty for not letting her touch me in a sexual way she one day decided to start taking advantage of me while I wasn't in the appropriate head space or without my consent and then making fun of my body and making comments about the way I look. She in fact, made me really anxious and feel bad and it made me start to binge eat, at the end of the year my weight was 78 kg, before our relationship I was 59 kg, people noticed it but just told me to stop eating and go on a diet.

At 17 (this year) I finally broke up even if she asked me to do it because she didn't want to be seen as the mean one for letting me while I was clearly depressed. It was hard but I could finally meet new people or get back with people she didn't wanted me to talk to (especially my amazing actual partner and my bestfriend) who helped me a lot realizing all the shit she did to me and they have been amazing at making me feel loved and cared for and to be honest I don't think I would be there if they weren't in my life right now.

Now my mental health is just fucked. Like I said when I broke up with my abusive ex I had gained almost 20 kg and it reminded me all the bully I've been through as a kid (they most of the time used the fact I was overweight to bully me) so I started to starve myself or purge if I felt like I ate too much (I started to count calories) I was at 78 kg at the start and in 2 weeks I was at 65kg, it was during quarantine so i didn't have any friend or people noticing what I was doing or see me fainting. I started to drink almost everyday and smoke a lot.

In June I got in a relationship with my actual partner and to be honest it's the only good point I can find this year. They (genderfluid) are an angel and I just don't know what I would do without them, they help me a lot even if they are struggling with mental illness themself and anyone has ever cared for me and made me feel so loved before. Today it's been 4 months officially and it makes me feel happy and I just want it to never stop. My mental health is at its worst, I've been having a lot of intrusive thoughts, i have a self destructive comportement, in September I started to sh again (a lot deeper) after 2 years clean, I often call them in the middle of the night (well in the middle of the day for them cause I'm in Belgium and they are in Texas) because of really bad dreams and suicidal thoughts, I am bullied and made fun of by the people in my class for being trans and having a different style (alt-grunge), I barely eat or purge if I try to have a meal, I have these "hypomanic" phases that make me getting really angry at nothing and do a lot of stupid shit because I feel invincible and better than anyone, almost godly and yet they never made me feel like I was a burden or like I should just stfu or like I was being dramatic and they are actually the first person believing me and not saying I fake everything.

I am struggling and it becomes so damn hard to live but I will do my best not to give up and just keep on fighting for them and maybe try to recover and seek for help when I turn 18. I already try to make little steps and stop self harming, drinking too much energy drink XDD so yeah let's just try and be positive I guess.

Sorry its actually so damn long hhh I don't even know if i will post It one day or keep it as a draft eheh I hate venting

[taebadam]

hello! i have had the privilege to see jagged little pill twice now and first of all: words cannot truly explain how amazing this show was. just. wow. but i remember when i was first getting into the show i searched desperately for descriptions of staging, choreography, etc. so here’s a (probably way too detailed lmao i’m sorry) synopsis of the show. MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD. seriously. im about to tell you literally everything i remember so retreat now if that’s not what you want. ok here we go. oh boy. (also i’ll be using actor’s names for ensemble members who don’t have character names and then character names otherwise)

CONTENT WARNINGS: sexual assault, homophobia, racism, sexism, addiction and overdose

here’s act 1:

ok i loved the whole thing for sure but honest to god one of my fav bits is the first minute of the show. the STAGING. so as the lights come up and the overture starts we see a mostly still dark stage with all the ensemble members facing backward w a spotlight on yana (my love wow) in the center. she’s the first to turn around as she delivers the opening line: “swallow it down.” the rest of the ensemble begins to join in and turn around one by one starting w ezra (!!!! i love ez so much they are the best you cannot convince me otherwise) and the build begins. they move in closer to yana, chanting “around and around” and then all come in with “WAKE UPPPP” and they all bend down in this beautiful moment where the bass just. drops. and then in comes the band holy SHIT. so the band is on these really cool moving platforms that come in from the wings and as the bass drops and the ensemble starts jamming out they come on stage and it’s just truly incredible. they sing some of the overture like this w stunning choreography and then as you oughta know’s theme comes in jo runs in and joins the ensemble but it’s really slick you don’t really notice at first until the second part of the chorus when she breaks away and comes center stage, singing on top of the ensemble as they start to break apart behind her and pull out these stunning moving panels that are like 15 feet tall w projections on them. jo runs back through the panels right before they meet in the middle and close behind her revealing the words “jagged little pill” as the overture comes to a close.

the panels now open up and reveal a couch with all four healys sitting on it w santa hats and reindeer antlers galore, posing for a christmas card photo and yelling “merry christmas from the healys!” we have mj, the mom, steve, the dad, nick the perfect son and frankie the adopted, black daughter. mj then goes on with her monologue about how great their lives are while they all sit there with frighteningly fake smiles pasted on their faces while the ensemble plays carolers behind them. soon the stage morphs to show us steve’s office on one side of the healy living room and frankie’s room on the other as mj begins to write in the card about her perfect little family. she discusses steve’s new position as partner (while he chugs a bottle of pepto-bismol), nick’s acceptance to harvard (they recreate the moment he opens the email) and then finally frankie and her best friend jo. as mj talks about frankie and jo she mentions how they’re upstairs right now doing a “little craft project” and off to the side you see them working on a sign that says “FUCK FASCISM” which jo holds up w pride. then (lmao) mj talks about frankie’s friendship w jo and how she loves “female friendships” and how she remembers “the days of discussing clothes and boys” and meanwhile to her left frankie and jo are literally just full on making out in her room clearly romantically involved and it’s just so fucking hilarious.

then mj begins to discuss her car accident from the previous year and how she’s battling it w “natural remedies.” meanwhile, the ensemble, truly the conscious of the show, sings right through you while looking on from behind her. she begins to discuss her hot yoga and the stage begins to turn red, the music growing as we see all four healys in their own sections of the stage, each acting like everything is fine but doing something that shows its not (like nick is always doing push-ups. rip derek honestly lmao) as the song comes to a close.

we now transition to the breakfast table where mj is setting out pancakes. steve tries to kiss her but she pulls away, saying she’s “not a big morning kisser.” they talk for a bit, including the iconic exchange between mj and frankie: “when my friends and i wanted to save endangered sea lions we sold brownies on the quad. well, actually they were blondies” “of course they were blondies. even your brownies are caucasian.” aaaaand that line kicks off all i really want. such a powerful song. frankie stands up on the table and the band and ensemble come back in, just completely rocking out and blowing us all away w their choreography and energy as they surround the family, dancing around, on top and under the table. in the build-up to and then during frankie’s line “i’m frustrated by your apathy” the ensemble surrounds her with various protest signs. i can’t remember all of them but some highlights include “our future is dying,” “black joy matters,” “my body my choice,” “don’t be a fossil fool,” “white silence costs lives,” “no human is illegal,” “stop separating families” and “no ban on stolen land” while frankie carries one that says “does my period scare you.��� it’s stunning. fast forward now to the “why are you petrified of silence? here can you handle this?” line. wow. frankie stands on the table, staring down mj in front of her and holds up a sign that says “fear has no place in our schools.” the ensemble all lays down in front of her w their arms crossed over their chests like they’re corpses and the screens behind her show projections of memorials for victims of gun violence in schools. the whole theater is silent for a solid thirty seconds. incredible. then they continue. another heart-wrenching moment is when it gets quiet before the final climax of the song and frankie goes “and all i really want is a wavelength.” she’s reaching out across the kitchen table to mj, who’s looking away from her at nick. mj’s arm rests on the table and as soon as frankie’s about to touch her hand mj moves to touch her own face, still looking the other way, not even realizing what frankie was doing. and their last belts. wow. mj and frankie are center stage, yelling at each other as they scream the final lines before frankie stomps off to go to school and mj is left alone in the kitchen where she swallows a pill— her pain meds for her car accident injuries.

a brief side note: let’s talk about the ensemble real quick. first of all they had input in a lot of their outfits and my fav is ezra’s which has a huge pink triangle on the back (they’re trans). i mean. wow. but also what’s important to know is that a lot of the main cast have sort of dancer body doubles? they have dancers who are supposed to represent them, be their alter egos and this comes into play a lot in the choreography and staging. mj’s double is heather, frankie’s double is ebony and jo’s double is ezra. i bring this up here because when frankie sings “i am fascinated by the spirit to a woman. i’m humbled by her humble nature” the ensemble lifts up ebony behind her and spins her around while frankie takes the same pose on the floor in front of them. absolutely genius.

and now we’re at school! we see bella, nick and andrew briefly discussing the party that will be happening tonight and then we zero in on jo (played my lauren patten my actual favorite human on this earth holy shit) and frankie, hanging out during what’s supposed to be a meeting for SMAC (social movement and advocacy committee) which frankie started— but rn they’re the only two members (also jo came in w a sign that says “let my people flow” and a picture of a pad because they were planning on protesting for the school to provide free menstrual products). jo and frankie have a sweet conversation featuring some hilarious comments from jo. frankie complains about her mom and jo responds “your mom is iconic. she’s one salad away from a psychotic break i live for it” then “at least your mom yells at you. mine prays for me. dear jesus. please don’t let my only child be a gay. especially not one of those obvious gays who wears performance fleece and utility sandals. in the name of fox news amen.” frankie is immediately concerned for jo and, for just a second, we see jo’s vulnerability and we know she must be really hurting but just as quickly she brushes it off: “i don’t care. i’ve been out of fucks to give since the early 2000’s.” really just phenomenal acting from lauren. wow. and now we have hand in my pocket! such a wonderful song. most of it is fun and uplifting (including a cute kiss between jo and frankie) but there was one part that really stood out to me. when jo sings “i haven’t got it all figured out just yet” she kinda stops for a moment and her face falls just slightly and frankie stands behind her, concerned, as the ensemble members dancing behind them all pair up and hug one another (including jo and frankie’s doubles: ezra and ebony). but just like that jo is back to singing and dancing and laughing, hiding her pain and uncertainty. at the end they do this adorable slap dance thing with the ensemble around them and everyone’s cheering and the lights are rainbow (yup thats gay) and it’s just so wholesome i love it.

now we go back to mj. we see her at the pharmacist’s office, trying to get a refill for her painkillers but being denied as she’s out. she then goes to a cafe where she runs into some other moms (laurel, jane and heather) and it’s hilarious. they’re all wearing the exact same outfits and sound so so fake. at one point ebony who is playing the barista asks if she can start a drink for anyone and one of them goes “i’ll take a skinny flat white” and ebony goes “how appropriate.” mj is clearly uncomfortable this whole time, especially when one of them makes a racist comment about frankie. after this she goes behind the cafe where she meets up w a drug dealer (played by john) and gets more of her painkillers. now comes smiling. this song is stunning. the whole song we see mj’s day moving backwards, all the way back to the morning when she took her first pill and she stares at herself in the mirror, clearly struggling. the whole song she and the ensemble all actually act everything out backwards, featuring ezra jump-roping backwards and antonio walking backwards while drinking coffee. true talent honestly lmao. and they move the sets so smoothly it’s amazing.

ironic!! so cute. so funny. the context is that frankie is reciting a poem to her class and they’re critiquing it but phoenix defends her. the desks are on wheels and the choreography is adorable. and frankie and phoenix’s voices WOW. and heather plays a stoner high schooler. this is not important it’s just so funny. after ironic there’s a moment in the hall where frankie and phoenix are still talking and so clearly flirting. jo walks up behind them but only sees frankie (on one side of the stage) at first. she starts to move towards her but then notices she’s talking to someone and gets a glimpse of her flirting w phoenix. jo’s face falls and she kind of falters, trying to decide whether to walk up to them and ultimately decides not to and walks off. lauren patten’s mannerisms in this whole show are just truly stunning. i really felt for jo everytime she was on stage. she’s so clearly putting up this sarcastic, uncaring front but really she’s just awkward and scared and lonely and lauren really does a phenomenal job making that come through— down to the fidgeting and awkward steps and nervous ticks that, once you notice them, make it clear who jo really is even though she doesn’t want to show it. yes i love lauren patten is it that obvious.

oK ANYWAY. back to mj. we see steve call to say he’s gonna be home late and they have a v passive aggressive conversation and then so unsexy happens. rip steve honestly. then perfect. mj and nick are decorating the tree. there’s a great line where mj goes “you need to make decisions for yourself” and he tries to put an ornament on the tree and she goes “no not there” and it’s so funny. but she just keeps going on about how he’s the only thing she’s done right and how proud she is of him. he asks “what if i hadn’t gotten in” re harvard and she goes ”you were always going to get in.”a couple of sympathetic sighs from the audience. then nick sings perfect and it’s honestly heartbreaking he’s so good and you feel so bad for him, always terrified that if he ever messes up his parents won’t love him anymore. that transitions right into lancer’s party.

here’s the thing about lancer’s party. this is the party where bella is sexually assaulted by andrew, kicking off her powerful storyline as a survivor and nick’s storyline about coming to terms w why he didn’t do anything at the time. but here’s why it’s so chilling, if that wasn’t enough: bella and andrew’s interactions at the party are not emphasized. in fact, if you didn’t know about the plot beforehand, you may not really notice anything at all. but it’s there. oh wow is it there. EVERY SINGLE TIME bella has anything to drink, andrew is the one to give it to her. she goes to talk to her friends and andrew grabs her hand and casually pulls her away. he puts his hand on her waist a little too often. he tries to get her alone one too many times. he barely leaves her side. but if you’re not looking for it, you may only see one of these just slightly ~off~ actions and think “hm that’s a little weird” and then move on. they’re not always center stage. they’re not always in a spotlight. they’re just part of the party. and we as audience members don’t stop to pay attention to them, even if we see something off. we’re not urged by staging to see it as important or vital to the story. and we don’t notice anything until it’s too late. the show puts us in the position of a bystander, like nick, who sees this all happening and does nothing. and this really comes back in the second act and punches you in the gut like. just wait.

anyways while the party is raging phoenix and frankie go outside on the swingset (!!!) and have a little heart-to-heart. they talk about their dysfunctional families and how frankie is adopted, a black girl in a perfect white family and how her mom “doesn’t see color” but she wishes she did. she talks about how her parents adopted her when she was little and how she’s been “fucking up their lives ever since.” phoenix comments “i have this theory that perfect families only exist in orange juice commercials and utah.” it’s funny and cute until it’s not. they start talking about how it’s not like they don’t love their families, it’s that they wish they were better kids. they think they’re not good enough and if they were different, everything would be better. phoenix says “if i were a better kid i’d have it all figured out. i could fix things at home. my dad might still call me.” and frankie agrees, adding “my mom might still love me.” and cue that i would be good. absolutely. heartbreaking. i cried so much. but it gets even worse when jo comes in. she enters on stage left w her mom, without her beanie and her flannel tied around her waist wearing a bright pink blouse. “there. i wore it.” she says, visibly shaking and looking away from her mom, almost curling in on herself. she takes the blouse off with unsteady hands, holding it behind her and still looking away. her mom yanks it out of her grip and jo flinches, “i don’t know why i even try, joanne.” as her mom leaves the stage jo quickly puts back on her beanie and flannel, looking terrified and heartbroken, and begins to sing “why won’t you accept who i need to be.” she crosses the stage to stand near phoenix and frankie, shaking and fidgeting the whole time. at the climax they all come to the front, frankie in the center, and just sing their hearts out and they just all look so— desperate. sad. lonely. it’s really just gut-wrenchingly beautiful and sad and just ugh. wow. and as jo starts to walk off stage and the lights fade phoenix asks “do you have a boyfriend?” jo freezes. “a boyfriend?” frankie repsonds, “no.”

now we’re on to the next day and jo is bringing coffee for her and frankie as she meets frankie at the swingset. they talk about last night and jo once again jokes and brushes off the church social she had to go to w her mom: “did you know that god forgives gay feelings as long as you don’t act on them? thanks for the life hack father tim.” then they discuss the party and jo pulls out her phone, showing that people had taken pictures of bella without her shirt on while she was passed out and had posted them all over social media. frankie immediately insists they go visit bella right that second to make sure she’s ok and tell her that they’re here for her. jo follows, in awe of frankie’s bravery and passion. as they head to bella’s we see andrew and nick doing their morning workout, andrew talking about how bella was “all over him” while the ensemble surrounds them, singing “this could get messy.”

we get to bella’s where she’s sitting on her couch in a flannel and sweatpants under a blanket. she eventually tells frankie and jo what happened, how she passed out in an empty room and woke up a few times to andrew assaulting her while she was unable to even talk much less fight back. as she begins to tell her story (it’s truly haunting, she sounds so just dead and done kathryn gallagher is amazing) a soft sound can be heard— the theme from predator. the soft “ooh” from the very start of bella’s song in the second act rings through the otherwise deathly silence as she softly starts to recount the horrors of the night before. frankie and jo immediately tell her that’s rape and she responds “what? no. i’m just a fucking idiot.” they try to assure her she’s not and urge her to go to the police. her response is heartbreaking: “are you kidding me? like i’m really gonna say andrew montefuray… everyone like worships his whole family. there is literally a statue of his grandpa downtown. plus, they never believe anyone anyway.” jo responds “we believe you.” she then reveals that nick saw something at the party and didn’t do anything and frankie goes to confront nick about it. he responds by telling her bella’s always overdramatic, that he shouldn’t be expected to look out for everyone. frankie looks devastated. mj walks in on their fight and, in response to frankie telling her bella was raped, says “you can’t just go calling the police every time a girl gets drunk and there’s some he said she said. these things can happen. i wouldn’t go making this your cause of the week.” cue wake up. frankie sings the opening lines directly to nick and mj, looking both furious and horrified. as the song builds the ensemble joins in and off to the side we see an interrogation room. frankie and jo come in w bella, trying to support her through what looks like a stressful interrogation w an intimidating male police officer who is constantly frowning and interrupting. we don’t get any dialogue from this as the song is happening around them but we see bella look more and more embarrassed and devastated as frankie and jo only look more angry. they eventually leave and andrew takes a seat and has what looks like a pleasant conversation w the policeman that ends in a friendly handshake. at the climax of wake up, after the interrogations, the whole ensemble is on stage and with them are the two moving panels/platforms. the main cast stand on the panels, and the ensemble moves them and flips them, revealing characters that were on the other side in switches so fast it’s incredibly impressive and overall a truly mesmerizing scene. the last line is frankie, alone in center stage with the ensemble behind her looking at mj who is in front of her staring out into the audience as frankie yells “wake up.” stunning.

the last scene of act one is forgiven. wow wow wow. mj goes into the church and begins to pray. she prays for her kids, for her marriage. then she begins to discuss something else. she goes “the last time i asked you for something…. well. you remember back in college. even after that night— that was my fault.” her voice breaks a little, sounding weaker and more scared by the second and once again the soft, ominous theme of predator can be heard in the distance. the same theme from when bella was accounting her assault and the theme that will come back in act two. chills. every time. mj starts to break down then, asking for help w her addiction. she admits she’s having a hard time stopping and begs for assistance. cue forgiven. in comes part of the ensemble— but only the non-male members of the ensemble. stunning. she begins the song and the ensemble moves the church pews and panels in a wonderful bit of choreography as the song grows. by the second chorus bella appears from the back of the stage and slowly walks up to join mj as the non-male members of the ensemble move the pews to surround the two of them. mj and bella stand back to back in front of a semi-circle of the non-male ensemble standing on benches. they chant “sinner! witch! whore!” while mj continues to sing and they point at bella and mj at each word, the lights flashing. it’s haunting. then bella joins the ensemble and they leave as mj moves to exit the church. she’s outside now, snow falling around her as we reach the climax of the song and the rest of the cast joins her on stage one by one. i couldn’t tell this was the case on the cast album but on that last chorus each main character gets their own line over the ensemble as they enter the stage. steve starts, “we all had delusions in our heads,” then nick, “we all had our minds made up for us,” then frankie, “we had to believe in something. so i will,” then andrew “we all had our reasons to be there” then bella, “we all had a thing or two to learn,” then finally jo, “we all needed something to cling to. so we did.” we could talk about how meaningful all of those lines are to each of those characters for hours honestly. and now the whole ensemble begins to join and the chorus only grows, everyone just singing their hearts out as they belt (ELIZABETH’S VOICE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK) and they end with a haunting final note “amen.” and that’s the end of act one. holy fucking shit.

[rising-generations]

Iris. [SDRA2 Sannohashi Oneshot]

read on ao3 here if you please

plot:

and i don't want the world to see me 'cause i don't think that they'd understand when everything's made to be broken i just want you to know who i am.

syobai hashimoto has to fix the biggest mistake he's ever made in his life. mikado sannoji has to deal with what syobai leaves behind when he runs away. it was never supposed to go this far.

syobai-focused sannohashi, set in the "nuclear" AU. more explained inside. featuring trans!mikado and sora/syobai friendship. tw for mentions of suicide attempt in the beginning.

notes:

So to make a long story short, this series takes place after a huge nuclear war decimated half of the human population and fucked up a lot of shit with the environment and people's bodies. Everybody knows shit's fucked. The SDRA2 kids exist in the same universe as the rest of the canon Ultimates, and everyone's around the same age (THH and NDRV3 kids are about 22, SDR2 kids are 23, SDRA2 kids are around 20-21). So everyone's an adult. Don't come for my throat. Don't like it, don't leave a nasty comment, thanks! Bad and stinky comments will be placed inside the bee oven to atone for their sins.

It's not often that Syobai admits this, but this time, he's absolutely, completely, royally, fucked up. Badly. And normally he doesn't care, but this time is so very different. Sitting at a table in a nearly-empty diner at half-past noon is not where he thought he was gonna end up today, but here he is, with his head in his hands, staring down at his phone's lock screen, counting the minutes since Sora sent her "omw" text.

This diner serves whiskey. A lot of places serve liquor now, have since the war tore the world apart and left millions of traumatized people to deal with the aftermath, many of them turning to alcohol to cope. Syobai has been drinking since the ripe old age of ten, so that's not new to him, and the whiskey they have here is strong, and it's tempting.

It's so, so tempting. But if he does that, it won't end very well for him; first of all, Sora would likely -- definitely -- beat his ass into next week if she shows up and finds him drunk. Second, in the state he's currently in emotionally, if he gets drunk, all he's going to do is remember things, and when he remembers things, he ends up waking up on the bathroom floor at 3 AM in a puddle of his own tears with a bottle of pain pills in his hand.

So Syobai won't drink. Not today, anyway. But God damn, does he really want to smoke.

As soon as he starts to get up to go outside (the diner has a no smoking policy, which he thinks is stupid considering the fact that nuclear warfare has done shit to the air they don't even know about yet, but he's not willing to get kicked out and risk a beating by Sora yet again), the universe interferes with his life once more. Sora steps in through the door of the diner.

Well there goes that plan.

She spots him fairly quickly and strides over to the booth in the back corner, sliding into the seat like nothing's changed. Syobai remembers when they'd used to skip class every Wednesday and go down to the diner down the street from Hope's Peak, the one that served all the crazy Western food, and dare each other to eat the craziest shit on the menu as fast as they could without puking or choking. Sora, of course, would win every time, and "claim her victory for all of the lesbians out there."

It's enough to make him smile a little bit. The diner was abandoned when the war started, but they still hang out there sometimes.

"So, you wanna tell me what's wrong with you?"

Sora's voice breaks through his thoughts, and Syobai lifts his head to look at her. She's got her chin in her hand, and her elbow propped on the table.

"Elbows on the table? Not very lady-like," Syobai jokes. With her free hand, Sora flips him off, and he snickers. "I'm kidding, geez. Who says there's anything wrong with me?"

Sora points at the complimentary basket of chips the diner serves with every customer. "There's food on the table, and you haven't eaten it all yet to spite me. Now, I asked you nicely. Don't make me come over there."

Well. Looks like he can't stall his explanation anymore.

He lets out a long, heavy, slow sigh, and laces his fingers together in front of him on the table. Syobai turns his grey-eyed gaze down towards the surface of the table, before forcing himself to look up and meet Sora's eyes.

"I need your help," he says simply. "I fucked up."

"You do that a lot. Elaborate."

"I fucked up really, really bad." Syobai pauses. "With Mikado."

Sora tilts her head. "Last time I asked, you told me the two of you were "just sleeping together casually." Did you lie to me, Syobai?"

Syobai swallows heavily. He can hear his heart beating in his ears.

"Mikado is pregnant," he finally says. The words actually leaving his lips feel like the final blow in a fight, and he's just lost. "With my children."

"... oh." Sora blinks a few times. "So this was an accident, I take it? Whatever happened to high school Syobai Hashimoto who carried five different types of condoms in his wallet at all times just in case he met a hot guy walking home from school?"

"Hey, in my defense, I usually still have condoms." Yes, they're a bit harder to find nowadays, as is almost everything, but up until now, he's always managed to have one on hand for when the two of them start feeling frisky (which tends to happen at least once a day). "To answer your question, though, what happened is Setsuka decided to get hitched."

"The party," Sora gasps, remembering suddenly. "Oh, my God. So you two did fuck in the bathroom! Emma owes me five thousand yen."

"Yes, we did do that," Syobai mumbles. It's not totally his fault, he thinks. It's not like Mikado wasn't grinding on him half the night, begging him to fuck him as hard as he could against the wall. It's no doubt the best sex he's ever had in his life.

And, of course, it's the one time they fuck without a condom and without pulling out. Not that that's guaranteed to help anything, but hey, it might have? Maybe it's just wishful thinking on Syobai's part.

"So what's the problem?" Sora continues. "Does he not want the babies?"

Syobai looks away. "I, uh. I don't know."

Sora's eyes narrow dangerously. "You didn't talk to him about it?"

Syobai gives a dry laugh. "Well, ya see, that's where the whole "I fucked up really bad" bit comes in."

"What'd you do." This isn't spoken as a question, somehow, as Sora's voice deepens. She's already pissed off, great, and Syobai has a feeling she won't be any happier when he tells this part of the story.

"Um." Syobai swallows again, more nervous this time. "I... I ran off."

Silence. "Excuse me?" Sora says. "You wanna run that by me again?"

Syobai still isn't meeting her eyes. He recalls exactly how the exchange went, just about two hours ago now.

"I'm pregnant."

The world stops turning.

Mikado's holding his hands over his stomach, gloved fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt so tightly his hands shake. Syobai, on the other hand, just. Stands there. Staring at Mikado, completely speechless.

Before he knows it, his body is reacting all on its own. Syobai opens his mouth, trying to form an intelligent response, but all that comes out is two words he'll regret deeply:

"I can't."

Before Mikado reacts to that, Syobai yanks the front door open and takes off down the street, running and running and running until he can't, falling to his knees behind the 7-11 -- how the hell did he get there, it's a mile from the house -- choking and coughing before he inevitably pukes from the strain of running so far, so fast.

This all goes through his head in the span of about two seconds. "I just stood there like an idiot," Syobai finally says. "I -- I said I can't and then I ran." His hand curls into a fist. "I ran like the dumb fucking coward I am." He brings his fist down on the table as hard as he can. Sora doesn't jump, instead staring at him evenly. "Go ahead and say it. I know you want to."

"You're right for once. What the hell is wrong with you?" Sora snaps. "I know that taking responsibility for your numerous fuck-ups is completely foreign to you, and usually you get away with it with no consequences because that's just how it is when you deal with people you don't care about and criminals, and hey, I can let it go when it's some nameless Yakuza dude who got assassinated with a gun you sold someone 'cause I don't care either," she begins. "But then, you turn around and do this shit? To Mikado? To someone we all know, and yeah, he might be a rat, but he doesn't deserve to be left high and dry and pregnant and scared because you --" And here she points at him, Syobai flinching as every word cuts deeper, "-- are a fucking coward. You're God damn right you screwed up."

"I was scared," Syobai says, his weak attempt at a protest surprising even himself.

"You were scared?" Sora laughs, and it's bitter. "That's funny. It's funny that you were scared. How do you think Mikado feels right now? Alone, facing the possibility of having to raise more than one child by himself after the man he's spent half of high school madly in love with, and the man he's been sleeping with for the past six months, ran away when he told him he'd gotten him pregnant?"

There's really nothing he can say to that. Syobai sighs shakily. "I wasn't just scared because he's pregnant," he finally says. "I was scared because..."

He shuts his eyes.

"Because I love him. I love him, so much that it hurts, and I may as well have just stabbed him right in the chest."

"And you're not used to that," Sora says. "You're not used to caring for anyone except yourself. But as long as you kept telling yourself it was just for fun, and there were no feelings involved, you could shrug it off. Maybe a part of you thought Mikado felt the same way, like it was just a game. Then he started to make your world wider, you started to get comfortable with it, and you got scared. Then he came to you, and told you that it wasn't just him anymore, and you panicked. You couldn't handle it. But instead of staying there and talking to him about it like an adult, you were just cryptic, and then you ran away."

Syobai opens his eyes and looks over at Sora. He somehow looks even older than he usually does. "Yeah. Yeah, you got me there." He swallows, heavily, and his mouth tastes like copper from how hard he's been chewing on his inner lip. "It was just supposed to be for fun. It was never supposed to be serious."

"Yeah, well, tough shit," Sora shrugs. "Mikado's pregnant. You're gonna be a dad. You could run all the way to America and it wouldn't change a thing. The only difference is, Mikado has to live with what you gave him forever. You've got two choices: you can drag your sorry ass home and show Mikado you're sorry, or you can keep running away. But, I'll have you know..." And here, Sora's voice darkens, and she looks more dangerous now than she ever did before even with a gun in her hands, "If you leave him like that? And if you ever run away from him like that again? And dare to show your face in Japan again? I will personally hunt you down and make you beg for me to kill you. Understand?"

"... yeah. I understand," Syobai replies. He runs a hand through his hair while Sora takes a couple of breaths to calm herself down. "I don't want to leave him. But I don't think I'm ready to be a father. Or much of anything, really." He looks down at his hands, rough and calloused and forever stained with the blood of so many that only he can see. "What if I can't love them?"

"If you love Mikado as much as you say you do, you'll fall in love with those babies way before they're ever born," Sora tells him. "Listen. This world's gone to shit. It's gonna be hard to raise a family like this. That's why Yoruko and I are waiting. But it's a little too late for you to do that, so all you can do is suck it up and do everything you can to make sure they never have to be a part of what we were."

Sora's words seal Syobai's decision.

---

He tries calling Mikado to tell him he's coming home for an hour, and gets absolutely no response. A part of Syobai is worried, desperately hoping Mikado didn't do something stupid and end up hurting himself, and wants to get home as soon as he can, but...

The other part of him feels like if he just shows up at home with no warning, it'll only make the situation that much worse.

So he calls, and calls, and calls, and gets sent to voicemail over and over, until finally, there's an answer.

"Fucking Syobai Hashimoto," a voice that is decidedly not Mikado's comes through the speaker. "I ought to skin you alive and wear you like a fur coat. How dare you."

Syobai sighs and frowns, rubs a hand over his face. "Hello, Nikei."

"Don't you hello, Nikei me!" The furious man spits over the phone. "Ever since Mikado told me you two were a thing, I've been looking for a reason to shoot you and make Why Syobai Hashimoto's Death Should be Celebrated as a National Holiday an article on the front page news for a month straight! Now I finally get a reason and I can't even do it because Mikado wants his kids to know their scumbag father!"

Syobai pauses. "... he wants me to come back?"

"I want you to come back, too," Nikei starts to say. "So I can beat you to death with a baseball bat." It sounds like he wants to say more, but then Syobai hears a very quiet, muffled voice in the background. It has to be Mikado. He strains to hear, but it's no use, because the phone doesn't pick up exactly what he's saying. A few seconds later, though, he hears Nikei give a heavy sigh.

"Alright, fine. Mikado wants to hear you out, so I won't be here when you get back, sadly," Nikei mutters. "But I can be there in ten minutes tops if he calls me back, and I'd love to see you try to outrun my bullets."

"Point taken." Syobai closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath. "Tell him to leave the door unlocked. I'm coming home."

---

It takes a little under an hour for Syobai to get home. He has to walk all the way there, after all, and he's already tired, but he pushes through. By the time he makes it to the driveway, it feels like his legs are about to fall off.

Then he gets to the front door, puts his hand on the doorknob, and hesitates. It's like all of the exhaustion evaporates, replaced by pure adrenaline and the urge to turn around and start running again.

No. He's made up his mind. Syobai closes his eyes, the mental image of Mikado laughing brightly in his arms appearing to him with no trouble at all, without him even needing to think about it.

God. All the things he would do to make that smile come back to Mikado's face. All the things he would do to forget the look of heartbreak he saw for just a split second when they were standing in the living room.

He turns the doorknob and walks inside the empty living room. His feet land in the same place they were, and he lets the door close behind him as he takes a few shallow breaths. The nagging little voice in the back of his head says you should've ended this a long time ago, Hashimoto. You always knew you'd never be man enough for him, to protect him, to care for him. You're just a coward.

Syobai ignores it, pushes through the pain and walks over to the door of the bedroom he and Mikado have been sharing. Technically, it's Syobai's room, because this is his house, but his sheets smell like Mikado, and it's his and Mikado's clothes on the floor in that room, and there's a picture of both of them hanging on the wall.

Syobai bites his lip so hard he tastes blood, then knocks three times on the door. He contemplates saying something to announce his presence, but finds it better to keep his mouth shut for right now.

At least, until the door opens up, and it's Mikado standing before him, with no mask, his face clearly streaked and stained with tears. Syobai forces himself to look at his face, look him in the eyes, because Mikado deserves that, at least. He deserves so much more than what Syobai's given him.

Neither of them really knows what to say at first. Then Syobai takes a shuddering, shallow breath.

"I'm sorry, for what I said," Syobai finally says. "I said "I can't." That was a lie. I - I can, I just... didn't want to face it."

"I really hope you didn't come all the way here just to say I'm sorry and expect me to forgive you," Mikado says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Syobai shakes his head. "I'm not asking you to forgive me right now," he murmurs. "I just want you to hear me out. Then you can do whatever you want. I swear. Please."

Mikado bites his lip and looks down at the floor, contemplating. "Fine. But I'm not doing this for you."

"That's okay." Syobai closes his eyes for a moment, then looks back evenly at Mikado as he slowly gets to his knees, now looking up at him. Mikado doesn't hide the look of shock on his face as Syobai starts talking.

"Listen. I'm not gonna make excuses. I'm a coward, and I'm a fool. I broke your heart. When things go beyond my intentions, I try to own up to them. Today I ran away instead." He swallows heavily, watches as Mikado shuts his eyes tight. "I - until you told me this morning, I was a man with nothing to lose. Nobody but myself. Then I went from that, to having everything to lose in two words. All my life, I never cared about what happened to anybody but myself. I didn't give a shit. And now..." He looks at Mikado's stomach, where he's resting one of his gloved hands, as though he isn't even thinking about it.

"I realized no matter how far I ran, or for how long, I'd never be able to forget that. I couldn't change it. I can't go back in time and stop what happened." Syobai sighs. Mikado's hands tremble. "The more I thought about it, the more I realized: I don't want to stop what happened. I don't want these kids to not exist."

"Then why did you run away? Why'd you leave me?" Mikado chokes out.

There's no turning back now. Syobai looks at Mikado right in the eyes, grey meeting pale brown, Syobai finally ready to say the words that could make or break him.

"Because I love you, Mikado Sannoji," Syobai says, clearly, sincerely, the only words that have ever come from his mouth with complete purity. "I love you, and it's real and it's raw and it scares the living hell out of me, because I didn't think I could until you walked into my life." He reaches out, fully ready for Mikado to push him away. Instead, he's pleasantly surprised when his cold hands are wrapped in Mikado's warm ones. He hasn't looked away from him, not for a moment, watching as more tears spill down Mikado's face despite him trying to fight them. "I got through life by putting up paywalls, literally, and I knew no person in their right mind would ever wanna get past them." He gives a little laugh. "I didn't count on you, coming in and blowing holes through them."

"Hey, I only blew a hole in a wall once, and that was an accident," Mikado laughs and cries at the same time, his body trembling. By now, Syobai's shaking too, but he's still fighting his own tears.

"Well, you sure got rid of mine," Syobai says. He lifts one of his hands to his lips and kisses his knuckles. "To be honest, I'm still scared. I don't know what I'm doing, not with you, not with the kids we made, not with my life, but I do know one thing: I wanna figure it out with you, and nobody else."

His voice cracks. Syobai swallows heavily, one last ditch-effort attempt at holding back his emotions.

"Will you let me stay here, right here, by your side?" Syobai asks, voice strained. "Will you let me become the man you deserve?" He sniffs, his last words coming in a quiet sob:

"Will you let me be a father?"

Mikado nods, squeezes Syobai's hands, his decision made as soon as he sees the tears -- so very real, undeniable evidence of Syobai bearing his soul to Mikado for the first time -- coming down his face like rain.

"Yeah. Yes, let's do it," Mikado whispers. "Oh, my God. We're gonna be fathers."

Syobai leans forward a little, rests his head against Mikado's belly, presses their still interlocked hands against the small, barely-noticeable swell, evidence that their children are safe, growing, and healthy. He doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to, as he rolls up the bottom of Mikado's shirt and kisses his skin, so gently he's afraid he imagined it at first.

Syobai Hashimoto doesn't so much fall in love with Mikado Sannoji; instead, rather, he stumbles into it, clumsy and foolish and with no grace at all. But he falls in love with their little ones in a split second, a moment in time he'll never forget.

[clownbeep]

This is gonna be kinda brutal. But I want to put it into writing

Big vent/whats been going on

Hah... I guess this is like my life story or some shit...

Trigger warning ahead.. Depression and a bit of gore/suicide talk so if you are sensitive to that please, for your own sake and mental state you might not want to continue.

For those who dont want to hear a pretty dark vent, I understand.

And those who are just scrolling by feel free to scroll past. I just personally want to get this out.

If you have dealt with emotional neglect/abuse and need to know it isnt in your head this might be the post.

By writing this it feels like hopefully someone else will read this and realise certain things are NOT healthy.

If you are questioning if you are being emotionally neglected/abused (im speaking in a parental sense but even romantically or sexually) im not someone to give you answers, but the fact you are questioning it raises some red flags. In a healthy relationship you dont wonder those things.

Sorry for the long prelude but heres what I wanted to say

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Ever since I was young, ive had bad ADHD, manic bipolar/depression, and sensory issues.

I was diagnosed around 13 I believe. My family (I didnt realise it then) always showed pity. Like I was some wild animal that couldnt be tamed and there was nothing they could do. Id do and say stupid attention seeking things just to try and get a shred of empathy.

My family didnt care.

When I was in the hospital for a suicide attempt regaurding pills and my liver had a chance of failing.. None of my family members cried over me. But a family friend. Someone not. Even. Related. Wept over me.

My family didnt care.

I cant say they never cared. They give me food water and luxuries like internet and a phone. For that I am grateful.

But in many other ways they have hurt me faar more than helped.

Once I got out of a short term stay in an inpatient mental facility I desperately needed contact with anyone who would care for me.

I have a younger sister, quite young probably around 7 at the time. She was a close friend of mine for that time. Id hang out with her so often to fill the gap in love it felt my family didnt give. One day I walked into the dining room and overheard my mother and father talking to my little sister. They told her to keep away because I wasnt "stable" because I was "dangerous" and could give her bad Ideas. And with one single action my only friend at the time and way to find happiness was taken away.

My family did not care.

When I stay in bed every day for months on end not knowing which day ill snap and end it all.... I get called lazy.

My family did not care

When I beg for medication to make me a functional human being they brush me off for years on end. Im losing my grip. I can barely remember things that have happened last week because I try so hard to forget everything its my automatic response to everything.

When I cant get to sleep because all of the memories come flooding back and im hit by wave after wave of horrific memories and the feeling if worthlessness... When I cant watch any videos or read posts about families because it brings on unwanted memories and emotions....

Is it me being dramatic then?

When you hear your family openly mocking and laughing about how stupid and dramatic and fake trans people are... How weird and unnatural and mentally insane these people are not knowing they are the very reason grsm and trans suicides are so high...

Am I a liar now? Am I insane?

When I tried to talk to them about my mental health issues. They took my only way of contact and made me feel like it was my own fault.

My family didnt care.

When I was nearly passed out shaking in a bathtub covered in wounds and blood all over... They showed pity, then lectured me for an hour for not telling them or for being impulsive and basically cleaned my wounds and sent me into my room.

My family didnt care.

Yes. I do agree, they cleaned my wounds, the physical side of showing care. However emotionally they were not there.

When my father drinks so heavilly every day he is home from work that he forgets half the things he tells you and can barely function.. They lecture my older sister for having a glass of wine (legal age)

They did not care.

My sister (23) tried for so many years to cling to what little attention she would get by getting good grades and going to college... She realised that it changed nothing about how my family felt toward her.... She snapped.

My family did not care.

She starves herself for a disease she does not have, she uses religion as an exuse to be one of the biggest christian extremists I personally know. Half the days she doesnt eat... Other days she burns book and gets rid of items for being demonic.

My lovely sister used to be kind and quite normal. However she couldnt find comfort in what little live her family gave. Starved for care she turned to religion to un unhealthy degree. Finding any way to keep her mind busy. Now I worry she will end up in the hospital for weighing so little.

My family did not care.

My oldest sister (27) Is married to a continuously cheating husband who she keeps letting back into her life. She was raised with a failing marrige and doesnt seem to see when she should call it quits.

Not to mention her husband has touched someone legally under the age of concent. Did she report him to the authorities? No.

All of these horrific things stemming from bad parenting. Unhealthy relationships and neglect.

Neglect emotionally can cause just as bad things as physical neglect. They are both horrifically dangerous in different ways.

These are the only big things I can remember... Basically age 15 and below are a complete blur to me and I cant remember much of it without thinking for a looong time. Even then I cant remember a lot of it... I feel like ive lost my whole damn childhood. And it hurts more than if they had just hit me or physically harmed me.

Im not underplaying physically harm. But in my personaly opinion I would rather my family have beaten me badly because at least then id have an easier way to prove to people how severe the abuse was. You can see bruises and confirm broken bones... But years of feeling completely useless and being shut off from most of the world other than the internet... It fucks you up in a way I dont think can be healed.

I dont know if I can ever love myself or... Remember things. Its terrifying to think Ill post this and a few weeks later probably not even rememner unless its brought up. Or meeting people and having conversations... And they are just... Gone.

Gone.

I suppose the biggest reason im writing this is well... In the future I dont want to forget in some ways.. I want like to be 100× as awesome knowing itll start as soon as im out of here..

If I dont have anything to compare it too then what is the point?

Ive layed out basically most of what I remember

A large amount of time I look around and nothing registers... Everything is familiar but I cant remember anything for a moment or two.. I feel like my memory is slipping so fast and im terrified.. I cant do anything to stop it and I cant make my mood be stable without the medication my family cant be bothered to get ...

I suppose this is a bit of a vent. I know its kind of everywhere and unorganized..

If im honest.. Tumblr is the only place where people have given me a home I wish I had..

I came out as trans here... Everyone was so damn supportive.. I didnt say anything but I cried hard and the kindness.. It was amazing.. It was such a jarring difference to how I feel when I say anything in real life.

Ive met friends here and ive had some much fun here. If youve stuck around this far thank you so much.. If you didnt I dont blame you.

I just wanted to share what has been flashing in my head these past few days.. It hurts a lot and ive even considered suicide recently..

Im trying hard. As hard as I can.. I have no escape though.

I cannot leave home. I cannot escape. Im not being dramatic.

I

CANT

LEAVE

And its terrifying because I know without medication or at least being somewhere AWAY from family.... I feel like im going to break soon.

I dont want to do anything stupid.. But some days I cant think straight and do things that harm myself and its not good. Its not okay. Im aware that I need help but I have no idea where to go/turn.. I have no ID or drivers liscence.. I have no transportation to and from a job to get money so I can leave... I live in the middle of nowhere.... I just..

I dont want to lose touch. I dont want to do anything bad.. I want to be functional.. I want to do more than eat and sleep my life away because I have nothing else to do..

Im so damn sick and tired of this all.. And at times I really do feel like there is only one way out.

Its always there and I just feel like one of these days im gonna be pushed over the edge and not be thinking clearly enough to stop it.

Im thinking semi clearly right now which is my im posting this.. Because im afraid and alone.

I have nowhere to go irl I have no friends Irl i just have tumblr and media and thats it. I dont expect anyone to be able to help I just wanted to write this so anyone knows what happens if I leave media..

If I tell my family my issues they will blow me off again for the 11th time or so (not exaggerated)

And if I do something to get sent to the hospital and get the help I need the cycle will continue with them being pissed and me getting sent home in a month or less anly for my family relationships to get worse..

Im spiraling fuether and further and I cant keep up the facade of being fine. I need help. And i have no way to get it. Ive just been suffering for years...

Sitting around and doing nothing but using your phone or drawing or whatever sound fun in theory... But if thats all youve been able to do for years with little to no real life social contact its gonna mess with your head... I dont want to be a shut in... I just

I dont know what to do.

Im sorry for rambling. I will most likely delete this later feeling embarrassed I posted this...

Im just tired..

[splendidlyimperfect]

It’s been thirteen years since Natsu and Gray met in a program for troubled youth - since they both fell apart and helped put each other back together. Now they’re married and happy, loving each other and the shared family they found. But the past doesn’t always stay past, and when the things that broke them come back into their lives, Natsu and Gray have difficult decisions to make - ones that could change their lives forever.

Chapter Summary: Natsu and Gray deal with the aftermath of their fight.

Chapters (9/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine, Cana Alberona/Lucy Heartfilia, Chelia Blendy/Wendy Marvell Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney, Sting Eucliffe, Freed Justine, Laxus Dreyar, Wendy Marvell, Chelia Blendy, Ultear Milkovich, Lyon Vastia, Lucy Heartfilia, Cana Alberona Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aged-Up Character(s), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Married Couple, Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Drug Addiction, Mental Health Issues, Foster Care, Family Issues, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, Grief/Mourning, Childhood Trauma, Bipolar Disorder, Adoption, Families of Choice, Nonbinary Character, Trans Character, Genderfluid Character, Forgiveness, Absent Parents, they're really in love but are sometimes dumb, Natsu is a stubborn shit Series: Part 14 of the only hope for me is you, Part 3 of if you jump i'll break your fall

**TW for brief mention of suicide attempt and child abuse

-----

Gray woke up alone. A thin ray of morning sunlight spilled through the window, and Happy was curled up next to him, purring contentedly. It took Gray a second to realize that he was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

“Hey, you,” he said to Happy, voice hoarse as he pushed himself up and ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes were swollen from crying, and when he rubbed his face, his skin felt tight and uncomfortable.

A clattering sound from the kitchen filled Gray with a sense of relief – Natsu was still here. Gray stretched, then stood up and took a deep breath before heading out into the living room.

Natsu stood in the kitchen, staring dully at a spot on the counter. The only sound in the apartment was the soft hiss of the coffee machine and the quiet hum of the washing machine from down the hallway.

“Hey,” Gray said, moving closer to Natsu and reaching out for him hesitantly. Natsu looked up at Gray with red eyes, giving him a soft smile before pulling him into an embrace. The tension in Gray’s body slowly melted away as he let himself relax in Natsu’s arms.

“You hungry?” Natsu asked, nodding at the fridge. “I can make pancakes.”  

Gray shook his head. “My stomach hurts,” he mumbled into Natsu’s shoulder.

“Mine too,” Natsu said, kissing Gray’s temple. “C’mon, let’s go sit down.”

Continue reading on AO3

Gray grabbed both cups of coffee and followed Natsu into the living room where they both curled up on the couch. Natsu yawned, rubbing his face and then pulling his sleeves down over his hands.

“That’s my sweater,” Gray said, sipping his coffee.

“Mm.” Natsu picked at a loose thread in the blanket. “I just...”

Guilt welled up in Gray’s chest and he set his coffee down on the table, then took Natsu’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.”

“You did,” Natsu said, shaking his head. “It’s okay,” Natsu reassured Gray quickly, squeezing his hand. “I was the one who was an ass. I shouldn’t have lied to you about my dad; I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.” He swallowed, keeping his gaze on their joined hands. “I didn’t plan on talking to him, I wasn’t lying about that, I promise.”

Gray shifted closer, pushing the blanket out of the way and wrapping his arm around Natsu. Natsu sighed, tipping his head against Gray’s and running his thumb over Gray’s knuckles.

“I just kept thinking about him. And you kept saying he could be dangerous, and it just... it made me feel stupid. I know you’re just looking out for me – I know that, but sometimes I just feel like this—like all I do is make mistakes, and hold you back, and you’re stuck taking care of me.”

“Natsu,” Gray said gently, pulling him closer.

“And you saying that it’s true, that I am too much sometimes—”

“That’s not—”

“Sorry, no, that’s not what I meant.” Natsu shook his head. “I just mean... you’re allowed to be overwhelmed, that’s not your fault.”

“It’s not your fault either.”

“I know that. But it’s still a lot for you. I just... I’m so, so scared that one day you’re gonna get sick of dealing with me. That everyone is. Like everyone has this invisible counter and I use up chances with them every time I fuck up, and when that counter runs out, they’re going to leave.”

“I’m never going to leave you,” Gray insisted.

Natsu swallowed, squeezing Gray’s hand. “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” he said softly, “but I don’t know if I’ll ever really be able to believe that.”

A pang of hurt twisted in Gray’s chest. “Natsu, I—”

“It’s not you,” Natsu said quickly. “But so many people have left me. Not just my dad, but everyone who was supposed to be there for me. And every time I got moved or sent somewhere else, they told me I was too much. Too much work, too much trouble, too much to deal with.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Gray murmured, kissing the top of Natsu’s head.

“It’s why I stayed with Don,” Natsu said, running his fingers across the ring of circular scars across his right wrist. A flash of anger sparked through Gray as he recalled Natsu talking to his old social worker, telling her about how his foster father had held his arm down and burned him with the end of his cigarette as punishment for coming home late. “I was just tired of moving,” Natsu said softly. “I was tired of being too much. And then…” His gaze moved to his left arm, where the scars from the fire covered the one that had remained after he’d tried to take his life.

“I know,” Gray said, trying not to think of that terrifying day. “And I’m so sorry I brought that up – it wasn’t fair.”

“No, it’s okay,” Natsu said. “I think about it sometimes. How scared you must have been, finding me like that, and then you just… you took me in, let me stay, and you loved me, and…” His voice wavered and he touched his wedding band. “I’d never felt like that before. Being loved like that, I mean. You were the first person to tell me that you loved me since my dad.”

Gray wrapped both arms around Natsu and held him as tight as possible, fighting against the tears that were threatening to resurface again. “I do love you,” he whispered. “So, so much, and I’m never going to stop. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but there’s nothing you could do to drive me away. You’re the most important person in my life and I would be so lost without you.” 

~

Natsu sniffed, turning in Gray’s arms and pressing his face to Gray’s shoulder. He always felt safe here, felt loved and needed. The doubt only surfaced when they were apart; when Natsu was alone with his thoughts and his brain kept whispering: nobody needs you, nobody loves you, they’re all just tolerating you, one day they’re all going to leave.

“You saved my life, too,” Gray said, kissing Natsu’s forehead. The tiny gesture flooded through Natsu and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that welled up inside him. “All the good things I have are because of you, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Natsu took a shaky breath. “Really?”

“Really,” Gray said, running a hand up and down his arm. “I don’t think you’re broken, mon couer. You’re not damaged, or too much, and I wouldn’t love you more if you weren’t bipolar.”

Natsu couldn’t help the choked sob that broke out of him as relief started to push away the doubt. Gray made a soft, soothing sound and ran his fingers through Natsu’s hair, resting his cheek on the top of Natsu’s head.  

“It’s not your fault,” Gray said again, “and I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

Natsu curled closer against Gray, rubbing at his face with his hoodie sleeve. The skin around his eyes ached from yesterday’s tears.

“I do feel overwhelmed sometimes,” Gray said. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, or if I could be… better, or more supportive. It’s scary and frustrating to see you hurting, but I know you can’t change it. And I didn’t mean to keep any of that from you, I just felt like… you didn’t need to deal with that on top of how you were feeling. I know you’re scared I’m going to leave, and I didn’t want to make that worse.”

Shame and regret crept into Natsu’s cheeks as he thought about the angry words he’d shouted the night before. “I feel so stupid,” he said. “I hate being sick. I hate not knowing if my feelings are real, or just dumb chemicals in my brain not working the way they should. I hate that you get scared, I hate that I feel so fucking out of control sometimes.”

“I know,” Gray murmured. “And I’m sure me asking about your meds doesn’t help.”

Natsu thought about the pill container next to the stove, about the tiny pang of shame that ran through him some days when he swallowed them down. “It doesn’t,” he admitted, “but I get why you ask. I have been taking them, I promise, but… I dunno, maybe I need to see my psychiatrist again.” He groaned in frustration.

“That might not be a bad idea,” Gray said gently. “But I think this is more than just meds. The stuff with your dad, I mean.”

Natsu sighed. “Yeah,” he said. Then he reached down and pulled his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants, turning it on and opening the conversation with Neelan. The last message sat there like an accusation.

Do you want to meet?

He scrolled up until he found the picture he was looking for, then passed the phone to Gray. “That’s my mom,” he said quietly. “I’d never seen a picture of her before.”

Gray stared at the photo for a moment as he ran his thumb across Natsu’s shoulder. “She looks just like you,” he said eventually. “Can I look at the rest of them?”

Natsu nodded, watching as Gray slowly flipped through the other photos. He paused on the one of Neelan holding Natsu in the hospital.

“He loved me,” Natsu said softly as he stared at the picture. “And he seems so… normal. He keeps apologizing for leaving, but he still hasn’t said why, and I don’t know how to ask.”

Gray made a sympathetic noise, closing the photos and scrolling up through the messages. “Do you want to meet him?” he asked.

“I think so,” Natsu said. He braced himself for Gray to disagree, but Gray didn’t say anything. “Is that… okay?”

Gray set the phone down on the couch and moved to face Natsu, taking both of his hands and squeezing them. “It’s not my decision,” he said. “I don’t want to tell you what to do. I’m scared of what might happen, and you’re right, that’s on me and my trauma. I just want to be a part whatever you do. If you want to meet him, I’ll be here for you, okay?”

“Okay,” Natsu said, cheeks burning with shame. “I’m so sorry I lied to you.”

“I forgive you,” Gray said, bringing Natsu’s hands up and kissing them. “And I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t trust you.”

Natsu leaned in and pressed his forehead to Gray’s. “You’d think we’d know better after thirteen years,” he said, and was relieved when a small smile crept across Gray’s face.

“It’s because we’re both stubborn assholes,” Gray said. “I hate fighting.”

“Me too.” Natsu let go of one of Gray’s hands and touched his cheek, then leaned in slowly, sighing in relief when Gray tentatively kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Natsu kissed Gray again, then pulled back and brushed a few stray hairs out of his face. “Do you want to talk about Lyon?” he asked. Guilt still rested heavily in his chest at the thought of Gray, curled up against their bedroom wall and crying harder than he had in a long, long time.

“Not right now.” Gray picked at a hole in his sweatpants. “Can we shower? I feel gross.”

“Same,” Natsu said, pushing himself up off the couch and helping Gray up too. “Why don’t I text Sting and see if I can take the afternoon off; I don’t have any big jobs right now. Maybe we can go down to the beach, or go have lunch with Sylvie?”

Gray nodded, stepping forward and pulling Natsu into a tight hug. “That sounds nice.” He pressed his forehead to Natsu’s shoulder and yawned. “Can we take a nap first? I’m so tired.”

“Of course,” Natsu said, kissing Gray’s cheek and holding him close. “Whatever you need.” 

~

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell him.”

Sting’s voice was quiet, but Natsu could hear the frustration in it, even over the phone.

“I know,” Natsu said softly, glancing back at the bedroom where Gray was still sleeping. “I feel really shitty and stupid. We spent all morning talking about it, and we’re both exhausted.”

Sting made a quiet sound of sympathy. “It’s not busy here, don’t worry about coming in. Just...” He sighed. “You lied to me, too.”

Natsu groaned and slumped back against the couch. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“We all do dumb shit,” Sting said, voice softening. “I’m glad you talked to him, though. He’s just worried about you – that’s what husbands are supposed to do. Ryos drives me crazy when he gets on my case about my meds, too. But he’s not doing it because he doesn’t trust me, he’s doing it because the last time I had a seizure, I ended up with sixteen stitches and scared the shit out of Noah.”

Natsu nodded, remembering Sting falling from the ladder at work and the awful cracking sound when his head had hit the concrete floor of the shop.

“You’re right,” he said.

“Of course I am,” Sting said, and Natsu was relieved to hear the disappointment in his voice turning to gentle teasing. “Now go do something nice with your husband and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

~

Gray didn’t talk about Lyon until later that evening, when they were sitting on the beach near the pier and watching the sunset. Soft, pink light spilled across the waves, rippling as the tide washed through the sand and dragged it back out to sea.

“I miss him, sometimes,” Gray said. He was sitting between Natsu’s legs, back against his chest with Natsu’s arms wrapped around him.

“Lyon?”

“Mm.” Gray kicked off his flip-flops and dug his feet into the sand. “When Ultear said he was having this hearing, the first thing I felt was scared. But...” He trailed off, looking down at the bracelet around his wrist. Lyon had given it to him years ago, before their mom had died. “I don’t know if I’m angry or relieved,” Gray admitted after a minute. “Or both.”

“Would you want to see him? If he gets out on parole?”

Gray looked back out at the ocean and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe? Is that weird?”

“I don’t think so. He’s your brother.”

“But he hurt me,” Gray said quietly. He reached up and touched his shoulder where the skin was white and scarred. “Why would I want to see him?”

“Because he loves you,” Natsu said. “And I know you love him.” Natsu kissed the top of Gray’s head, then took both hands in his, slipping their fingers together. “Your relationship with him is more than just the bad shit that happened. You have years of good memories with him before that, right?”

Gray shrugged. “I guess. I just... there was some part of me that thought he was gone forever, y’know? And I know parole is a thing, and he’s been there for a long time already, I had just kind of resigned myself to never seeing him again.”

“I know.”

The sun finally dipped below the horizon, leaving them in a soft darkness. Gray closed his eyes, tipping his head back against Natsu’s shoulder and cuddling closer to him.

“Ultear said I could write a Victim Impact Statement,” he said after a while. “For the hearing.” Natsu nodded. He had written one for Don’s trial, but his social worker, Richelle, had been the one to read it in court. “I did the first time,” Gray added. “When Lyon was sentenced. I didn’t go, Ultear read it for me. I don’t even remember what it said.” He sighed, keeping his eyes closed. “I just feel a whole bunch of different things and I hate all of them.”

Natsu pulled Gray closer and squeezed his hands. “You said you have an appointment with Victim Services on Friday?” he asked. Gray nodded. “What about going to see your therapist?”

Gray groaned. “I don’t want to,” he grumbled. “I hate therapy.”

“I know, Snowflake.” Natsu kissed his cheek. “Actually, I was thinking... what if we went to therapy together?” Gray opened his eyes and frowned at Natsu. “Don’t pout,” Natsu teased.

“’m not pouting,” Gray insisted. Natsu laughed and kissed his nose.

“You are a bit.”

Gray huffed, shuffling further back against Natsu.

“Freed and Laxus go to therapy together,” Natsu said after a minute. Gray raised an eyebrow. “Laxus was telling me about it the last time we were over there. Just ‘cause of all the shit with his dad, and stress and stuff. And Sting and Ryos go too, with Noah and without him. It’s not a bad thing.”

“I know,” Gray said, wishing that the idea of talking about his feelings with a stranger didn’t make him feel like throwing up. “You’re probably right.”

“You know I am.” Natsu shifted in the sand and moved his arms down around Gray’s waist. “I wish everything were easier,” he said, resting his chin on Gray’s shoulder. “I feel like a mess.”

“You are a mess,” Gray teased. “That’s why I love you. We’re both disasters and we always have been.”

Natsu laughed, nipping playfully at Gray’s ear. Gray elbowed him half-heartedly and he made an exaggerated sound of protest before kissing behind Gray’s ear instead. “We’re gonna be okay, right?” he asked, breath tickling Gray’s neck.

“Yeah,” Gray said, tipping his head to the side and catching Natsu’s lips in a soft kiss. “We’ll be okay. I promise.”

[bamby0304]

With Wolves- Ch.2

Series Masterlist Bamby’s Masterlist

Summary: Known as The Omen, your reputation puts fear in some of the most dangerous and deadly Alphas. So when you’re caught and sent to the worst maximum security facility unknown to man, no one expected an unclaimed Omega to walk through the gates in shackles and an orange jumpsuit. Word circulates, and before long there’s a price on your head. Who will claim the untamed Omega?

Series Taglist is Closed

Warnings: Explicit language. A/B/O dynamics.

Bamby

You know you’re in deep shit when you’re thrown into a place that has no known address… or name… or existence. They were quite literally throwing away the key, now. After years of getting caught and getting out, they’d finally given up on sending you to the usual Omega prisons. Mind you, it shouldn’t have taken them so long to figure out you weren’t an ordinary Omega.

Though, at the same time, you should have known better than to get caught. The handful of times you’d been busted before had been on purpose- except for the first time, that was a fuck up on your behalf- you’d had work to do on the inside. But this time? Well, let’s just say you now knew you couldn’t trust anyone, didn’t matter what was between their legs or engraved in their biology.

Shuffling down the halls of your new home, your eyes scanned everything and everyone, taking in your surroundings. If they thought you were going to be stuck here for the rest of your life, then they were idiots. You gave it two months tops before you were sippin’ cocktails and killing douchebags all over again.

One of the guards shoved at you. You turned to glare at him over your shoulder, but he didn’t even give you a second glance.

“In there.” One of the others gestured to the door you now stood next to.

Without a word, or hesitation, you grabbed the handle, turned it, opened the door and stepped inside. You were in an office.

It was a mess. There was no organisation to it, at all. You were surprised someone could work in an environment this bad. You wouldn’t be surprised if whoever worked in the office also lived in it. God, the smell was disgusting. It smelt like someone had been sleeping on the corner couch for three weeks without showering.

“Miss Y/L/N!” a man exclaimed as he walked through a second door- which you could tell it was a bathroom due to the sound of a flushing toilet.

The man was pretty average, but that wasn’t surprising. One whiff and you could tell he was a Beta. You guessed that the majority of the workers would be Betas. They’d have to be, in order to keep the peace and also keep a regular work schedule without the interruptions of biology. You also suspected the majority- if not all- of the staff would be male.

You internally sighed. Great.

Back to the man in front of you. He was dressed in a suit that had never seen an iron in its life. He had what looked to be coffee stains on the once pale blue but now grey-blue dress shirt. His tie… well, he clearly didn’t know how to tie it, and didn’t care much either. His hair was raggedy and all over the place. You wondered how someone so messy could run an institution such as the one you now stood in.

“The name’s Chuck,” he introduced himself before reaching out to offer you his hand.

One glance at his hand and you grimaced. The guy clearly didn’t care for hygiene, and had just stepped out of the bathroom… you weren’t touching him with a ten-foot pole.

When you let his hand hang there, he chuckled nervously before dropping it. “Please, take a seat.” He gestured to one of the chairs opposite his own as he moved to sit himself. “So, Y/N… you mind if I call you Y/N?”

“You’re the boss, Chief.” You shrugged, really not caring what he called you. It’s not like you were going to be friends. You weren’t sticking around long enough to make any friends.

“Please, call me Chuck,” he insisted, a friendly but nervous smile on his lips. “Now, Y/N, normally this runs differently, but we haven’t had a case like yours before. There hasn’t been an Omega here in five years, and even then, the last had been a male, who had been… fixed.”

“De-sexed like a dog. Got ya.” You nodded sharply, leaning back in the chair carelessly, while your eyes continued to scan.

Male Omegas were rare, and most of them ended up getting the snip. If they’re rare, then female Alphas were rarer, and while some male Omegas might be gay, not all of them were lucky enough to find an Alpha to ease their heats. So, instead, they simply cut out the bits that made them male or female, and left themselves empty like a blow-up doll with body heat.

Chuck chuckled again, shifting nervously in his seat. Your lips curled in a knowing grin. He was scared of you. Good. You preferred it that way. Scared people make mistakes. Mistakes are what you needed in order to get out of this shit-stain of a place.

“Now, I know you might be a little concerned about your heat, considering you’re now stuck here with a bunch of Alphas-”

You turned to look at him then, lips set in a thin line as you showed no emotion whatsoever. “Do I look concerned, Chief?”

Shifting nervously once more, he cleared his throat. “Well, uh… no. No, you don’t, actually.”

“I can handle myself.” You smiled then. It would have looked like a sweet gesture, if your eyes didn’t have that spark of knowing amusement in them. You weren’t the one who needed to be concerned.

Running a hand through his hair, he moved on, “Right, well, still… your heats need to be controlled, for safety reasons.” You didn’t miss the fact he didn’t specify whose safety he was talking about. “You’ve been prescribed an experimental suppressant. The theory is that it’ll keep you from having heats for six to eight months.”

“So, let me get this straight, Chief.” You leaned forward in the seat to rest your elbows on your knees. “I’m getting thrown in with a bunch of pricks, and by pricks, I mean hot-headed, think-with-nothing-but-their-dick Alphas, and you want me to go on some experimental medication? Some magic pill that may or may not do what they’re supposed to? Have I got that right?”

“Uh… uh, yeah.” He nodded, suddenly unsure if he’d made the right move. “Yes, that’s right.”

You shrugged, leaning back in the chair again. “Okay, got ya. Please, continue.” You gestured for him to go on and keep talking.

He hesitated at first, clearly having no idea how to act around you. Were you pissed? Did you think the pills were a bad idea? If you did, were you going to do something about it? Did you even care? Why weren’t you reacting?

When you continued to scan the room, a carefree look on your face, he relaxed a little as he went on, “Besides the pills, we’re also offering you the chance to distance yourself. Usually we’d throw you in with another inmate, but with you we thought you’d prefer to be by yourself.”

“Alpha or Beta?” you asked without giving him a single glance.

“Excuse me?”

You turned to look at him then. “The person you’d bunk me with, they an Alpha or a Beta?”

“Oh, right.” He nodded, understanding what you were asking. “Uh, Beta. They’re a Beta.”

You shrugged. “Company wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Truth be told, you couldn’t care less if you were alone or bunked with someone. Either way, you were getting the hell out of dodge, nothing and no one was getting in your way. No dick, prick, penis or testicle.

“Oh… okay… great!” Chuck clearly had been expecting you to want to be alone, but he tried to play off his surprise, offering yet another smile that didn’t fool you for one second. “Why don’t we go get you settled in then?”

***

You walked down a line of cells, which were mostly empty save for a few. The people inside them were lounging about at first, but the instant your scent hit them their interest was caught. You didn’t even glance at any of them, keeping your head held high as you shuffled down the hall, flanked by only two armed guards now, with Chuck taking the lead.

“Hey, Omega, baby.”

“Why don’t you come sit on my lap?”

“I got what you need right here, baby.”

“Got ya Alpha cock waitin’, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored each and every one of the crass comments. It wasn’t the first and would definitely not be the last time you had to hear such crap. Being an Omega meant you’d been dealing with this bullshit since the day you presented. Your intolerance to it all was what had you shackled and locked away in some faraway place unknown to civilisation.

Coming to a stop by a cell, Chuck rubbed at the back of his neck as he gestured into the small room. “Here we go. Y/N, meet your cellmate, Kevin Tran.”

Looking into the cell, your eyes fell on a small guy, young enough to almost look like a kid. If you hadn’t been told he was Beta you would have guessed it in an instant. He was scrawny, tired and scared… you were amazed someone like him was in a place like this. You were also surprised he was still alive.

Stepping to the side, lifting your hands in front of you and one of the guards, going through the motions, you watched Kevin as the guards unlocked your cuffs and shackles. You didn’t tear your eyes away from your cellmate once, looking him over, analysing every detail. Like you said, you weren’t making any friends, but you weren’t opposed to a helping hand. Kevin looked like the kind of guy who would easily be manipulated, easily pushed… he could come in handy.

“Kevin,” Chuck turned to him, “it’s your job to make sure Y/N gets settled in. Show her around. Tell her how everything works. Make sure she understands the rules and such.” With a short nod, he turned back to you. “It’s really not that hard to live here. I am aware of what you all are, and why you’re all here, just… don’t kill anyone, okay?”

“I’ll try.” You gave a tight smile, glancing over your shoulder to listen to the continued onslaught of catcalls and comments. Turning back to Chuck, you shrugged. “Not making any promises, Chief.”

***

Once Chuck had left, along with the guards, Kevin had showed you around the small cell you both now shared. It was tiny, and that’s putting it nicely.

Two bunks, a small desk, a couple of shelves, and a toilet and connected sink. Everything that could be made of concrete was, to minimalize the risk of inmates finding something to use as a weapon or instrument to aid their escape. The chair for the desk was one piece of metal that was bolted to a pulley sort of system where it could only move backwards and forwards a few inches- there was no way to tear it off and pick it up.

The beds- which were concrete- had thin foam mattresses on them, with no seams or lines to hide anything. The sheets were all white, probably to make cleaning them easier. The toilet was metal, but with no pointed edges. In fact, there wasn’t a single pointed edge in the room. Everything was curved, and round…

It was overkill, but you didn’t doubt it was necessary.

After Kevin showed you the small room and offered you whatever bed you wanted- you took the bottom, by the way- the two of you headed out so he could show you around more.

The whole place was concrete, you realised. There was minimal metal, and absolutely no glass. Most things were unmoveable, bolted down or built into the walls and floors. You also noticed that the hallways were wide, to prevent sneaky oops-I-bumped-into-someone shiv attacks, you guessed. Above the hallways, and in every public room, you noticed the high ceilings… the very high ceilings… and the walkways up ahead.

Catwalks for the guards. Not a single guard was on ground level with the inmates. They were all above, constantly moving, all armed and watching. Security cameras were everywhere as well. So far you hadn’t spotted a single blind spot. Every nook and cranny was covered by a camera.

The place had a decent system going.

Kevin took you to the library, which you’d been surprised to see it was in fact a library. The shelves and tables were all concrete, the chairs plastic and- surprisingly- moveable. It looked like a weird dystopian apocalyptic world version of an ordinary library.

The cafeteria was next. Unlike normal prisons, inmates didn’t work in the kitchen. You guessed it was to keep the criminals away from any knives or other utensils that could be used as a weapon. The tables were like the ones in the library, only these ones had connecting benches. On one side of the room were windows that looked out into the yard- which had been filled with inmates. The other side had barred windows where the food was collected and served.

While walking around, you’d spotted a few inmates checking you out. You didn’t miss the whispers or the looks. You just chose to ignore it. Not a single soul had come up to either you or Kevin, and as long as that continued, you weren’t going to start something. If you wanted out of this place, you couldn’t afford any distractions.

One thing that hadn’t failed to distract you was Kevin.

Kevin was adorable… and absolutely terrified of you.

It was obvious. Every time you made a sudden movement, he jumped. His eyes darted around. His fingers fiddled. He shifted on the spot. He was sweating like a sinner in church. If he shat himself, you wouldn’t have been surprised. The guy was scared of you, and either had no idea or no control over the fact he was making it pretty clear.

“I need some fresh air,” you told him, hoping that going outside would offer him some ease.

Being around others wouldn’t make you feel great, but you didn’t want to have to live with someone who was petrified of you, so hopefully this olive branch would lessen the fear. Hopefully.

Continuing down the hall you were both in, he gave a quick nod. “Yeah. Sure. Of course. I’ll, uh… I can show you the yard? But, uh…”

When he kept hesitating, you sighed. “Seriously, I need you to breathe. If you keep freaking out, living in that cell together is gonna suck. You got a problem, say something so we can clear the air now. I won’t bite,” you assured him.

He didn’t look convinced. “You’re a killer…”

Your lips curled into a grin. “What do you know about me?” He made a few stuttering sounds that told you plenty. “Yes, I’m a killer. But I have never killed anyone who isn’t an Alpha. You are a Beta. You’re safe. I have no reason to kill you. I don’t even have a reason to hurt you. So, let’s keep it that way, and go outside, yeah?”

“Okay.” He nodded, turning to leave and led you towards the doors that would take you to the yard. He made it all of three steps before he stopped.

Groaning, you shook your head, looking up at the ceiling with exasperation. “Now what?”

Slowly, he turned to you again. “There are Alphas outside.”

“You worried I’m gonna kill them?”

“I’m more worried about what they’ll do to you, actually.”

Lowering your head, you looked him in the eyes, surprised. “You’re worried about me?”

It had been awhile since someone had worried about you…

He shrugged. “There are a lot of them out there. The guards don’t do much to break up fights. They only care when it looks like the fight might lead to someone getting killed. I doubt they’ll care much if you get cornered,” he noted. “And while I know you can handle yourself, I don’t think even you could fight back against tens of Alphas.”

Lips curling into that grin once more, you shrugged. “Why don’t we find out for ourselves?”

“Seriously?” His eyes were wide with fear. Fear for what might happen… and fear for your clear insanity. Only someone with no brains would wittingly and willingly put themselves in a potentially deadly situation, which is exactly what you were suggesting.

***

There was a chill in the air as you stepped outside. You tried to take in your surroundings first, ignoring all the eyes that turned your way. You noted the huge walls that covered any view of the outside world. You could barely see the tops of a few tall trees. There was nothing you could see that would suggest where you were.

Giving up on the outside world, you turned your attention to inside the walls. The yard was akin to other prisons you’d seen and been in, but there were a few differences.

For starters, the place was open, and big, and surrounded by the large walls. There were a few spots people could sit and huddle together in an attempt at finding privacy, but the majority of the space left everything on display for the watching gazes of the guards up above.

Walking the cat walks high above the ground, armed guards watch the inmates closely. Though, you noticed how a large number of them were now focused on you.

Scoffing, you turned your attention back to your surroundings. You noticed the two basketball courts, the field which was surprisingly covered in a thin layer of lovely green grass. There were benches and tables, some under cover but mostly not, all of them made from concrete. In one of the far corners you could see the minimal makings of an outdoor gym- which consisted of nothing that could be removed or used as a weapon, everything once again bolted down or made from concrete.

Considering who was locked up, and why, you were amazed at what was on offer. Then again, you remembered what this place was used for. The people here, the prisoners, they were here for life. They were too dangerous to be out in the real world.

If they’re dangerous, why aren’t they just killed? It depends.

Every person behind the tall and impossible walls had knowledge in their noggins. Some of that was useful, some of it was deadly. The people who funded and ran the prison wanted the prisoners alive. The hope was that they’d be able to fish information out of them.

But there were a few who legally weren’t allowed to be killed, no matter how dangerous they might be. By a few, you meant one. By one, you meant yourself.

It was an international law that no Omega could be killed. Your breed was rare, to the point of almost extinction. The only way to make more was for Omegas to breed with Alphas. So, it didn’t matter how many people you killed, you weren’t getting executed anytime soon.

That was a positive to your genes, everything else was pretty much a negative.

While you’d learnt to stick up for yourself- to dangerous and deadly levels- most Omegas were push overs. There were camps where Omegas were hunted like exotic animals, and then sold to the highest bidder. Some people bought them to add to a collection… the rest were Alphas looking for a cunt to knot.

Your hands curled into fists as your mind wandered to those dark thoughts. You despised Alphas. You hated them. They made your blood boil with a rage that sometimes literally burned you from within. You saw red at the thought of them touching one of your own. Forcing themselves on the unsuspecting, fragile and weak Omegas that couldn’t- and usually wouldn’t- fight back.

“Well, look what we have here.”

Bamby

[landofsomethingsomething]

It’s so god damn easy to tear people down. People do it every day. It’s simple, it’s satisfying, it’s cathartic, it feels like balm to people who have been wronged, to people who have suffered, to people who have to live their lives outside this virtual space in fear and in real danger, in abusive households and abusive communities and situations that do not foster kindness, empathy, or the extension of good faith toward strangers. Being able to lash out safely from behind a screen at people that are safe to lash out at and who feel like a source of your continuing oppression -- that’s novel, at first. It’s invigorating. It’s freeing. The ability to be angry, to say angry things, to express your hurt and rage at any number of nameless or unnamable things is so fucking seductive it’s no wonder so many lgbt+ people have spent time in that place, have had periods of their lives where they engaged in this behavior and said what they wanted and lashed out without thought and allowed others so similar to them to enable their behavior. 

It’s so easy to find lgbt+ people who are in pain. To take these people who are in pain and to give them targets. To mold young people and your peers and take advantage of their trauma (so like your own!) and whip it up, normalize it within your group, foster it on any number of available platforms. Focus it on whoever you deem deserving at any given time. Actions speak louder than words. Context is irrelevant. Dialogue is weak. Abusers are abusers are abusers, except when you’re the abuser, because the abuse you have suffered justifies your actions. Your abuse makes you relatable. Your abuse is more important, more valid, more meaningful, more deserving of the care and empathy of others regardless of your coping mechanisms. 

It’s so damn fucking easy to just say whatever you want on the internet. It’s so easy to paint a group with whatever paintbrush you like, because no one fact checks, no one cares about context, no one concerns themselves with nuance, no one views the words on the screen in front of them as coming from another human being with an entirely separate lived history full of its own tragedy and triumph and biases and triggers and needs and understanding and hard fucking learned lessons. 

We separate into teams and look for ways to score points against the other side. We make ourselves willfully ignorant so we don’t have to switch sides, or even better, remove ourselves from the game entirely. We busy ourselves with tearing our enemies down with unattainable standards, ignore our own hypocrisy, and look to our side to tell us we’re right, we’re right, this time we are right and we will not be silenced and we will not be bullied and we will not let them win. 

Our actual abusers don’t see any of it. They don’t care. They go on living their lives. We take our rage and our pain and our frustration out in arenas we understand, in the places we feel safe, and the people we lash out at are the people who should be our friends, our allies, our brothers and sisters and nonbinary siblings who have suffered so much in a world that denies our sexuality, denies our gender, denies our expression, denies our right to exist. 

We know our abusers won’t listen. We know our pain is nothing to them, a drop in a bucket. So we hurt the people that can’t help but listen, because our stories are so alike. 

I went through an angry phase. I spent a few years screaming at people I felt deserved it, too. Some of them did and some of them didn’t, and doing so brought me short term satisfaction and a deep sense of power that I had not experienced anywhere else. A deep resonance with my own identity that I was powerless to exhibit anywhere in my real life, because family is complicated, friends are the choir and speaking up about microaggressions at work gets queer people fucking fired every fucking day, and you need that god damn money to eat. to live. to pay for your fucking brain pills. 

So. 

When you have a platform and a fandom and you feel that thrill of being heard, finally -- I get it. 

But here’s the thing. 

Your abuse never justifies levying abuse on others, strangers, people whose context you do not know and whose stories you have not heard. 

Your emotions are valid. You are free to feel however you like. If you need to vent in private, among friends and colleagues and people you feel safe with, by all means. 

Your favorite characters and your favorite ships and your favorite relationships and your fanfiction and your fanart may be how you express yourself or vent or cope. Your Shit means different things to different people, and to some, it means nothing at all. Let it fucking go. Your shit is not the bar of lived experience other people in fandom must meet to be considered sufficiently oppressed to spare them your bullying. 

Your trigger and your context and your trauma is your own. It does not belong to anyone else. It is your responsibility to understand your limits and respect the rights of other creators, just as it is the responsibility of creators to properly tag and label their work to spare those whom it might upset the indignity of reliving their trauma within a space that is supposed to be safe for them. A space that for some may be the only safe space they have. A space that for some may be the only escape available to them. A space that, for some, may be the only way they can begin to express themselves, furtively, in stolen moments in an oppressive environment. 

Fandom is where so many of us found ourselves. It’s full of us, lgbt+ people in various life stages, expressing ourselves in communities dedicated to content that made us feel enough to find ourselves here in the first place. It’s where children currently are discovering labels for feelings they have never had the words to talk about before. It’s where adults go in the midst of their busy lives to contribute to a body of work motivated by nothing but emotion for the source, for the community, and/or for the hope of encouraging feedback from their peers, their fans, their heroes, all three. It’s where everyone goes and discovers there are people out there just like them, after all. 

It’s where people are picking their teams and suiting up and getting in line and hurting people just like them, every day. 

It’s where people are putting the feelings and wellbeing and sanctity and rights of fictional characters over those of actual human beings who committed the grave sin of enjoying a thing a different way, or for different reasons.

Fandom is full of amazing connection and moments I wouldn’t trade for the world. I wouldn’t be married to my amazing wife right now without it. But it’s also a battlefield in a bubble where I watch oppressed people tear each other apart every single day, while of course, in the meantime, outside the filmy fucking boundary between this world and the real one, the same privileged sorts continue to dominate every aspect of mainstream media, the white house is full of incompetent, hateful people, some of whom are literal nazis, white nationalists feel safe enough to wear swastikas on public transit in liberal epicenters, gay men in russia are being sent to death camps, the police are murdering people of color indiscriminately without fear of personal or professional consequence, the supreme court is one death or retirement away from setting back civil rights in the united states a century, trans people have to watch a nation of frightened pissbabies scream about the sanctity of public bathrooms while they themselves suffer from an increased rate of being literally fucking murdered simply for existing, gay teenagers ostracized from conservative families sleep homeless in the street with winter fast approaching, hurricanes devastate a dozen nations because this century has paved a political landscape where corporate profits prevail over basic human rights  -- and you know what, fuck it, let’s make it a little personal -- 

half my family has never acknowledged the fact that I have been married for a year because they don’t believe it is a legitimate marriage because I and my wife are both women, my wife and I went to the hairdresser the other day and when we checked in with the same last name we were asked if we were sisters (and upon clarifying, the woman who was to cut our hair loudly and incredulously gasped, “is that legal here?”), one of my best friends, a woman I have known since high school (that’s 17 years ago, for those keeping count) was told she would have to undergo a thorough and lengthy process via working with HR, her boss and the owner of her company before she could represent herself as her correct gender at work - and even after she jumped through all those hoops, she was told she was absolutely not allowed to use the women’s restroom under any circumstances - When I told my father about my engagement, he tearfully turned to me and said “but you’re supposed to marry a guy, and have babies” - and because this was my father, who I have always had a good relationship with despite remaining closeted most of my life, who I have always and still deeply love despite the shit that comes out of his mouth sometimes, who worked 12 hour days in construction to support me after divorcing my mother when he was nineteen years old - I actually fucking felt guilty. 

The memory of how I felt in that moment will follow me until I fucking die, and when I log on to this website at the end of the day and just want to fucking relax and spend time yammering about things I like with people who like those same things, when I just want to spend time in this space that makes me feel good, when I just want to create content for the joy of creating it and the joy of seeing others enjoy the thing I created -- the fucking last thing I want is to see myself, my wife, my close friends and fandom friends alike being put on blast by petty people leveraging a nebulous, ever-changing definition of purity, backed by a group of people I know have suffered and hurt and feel justified hurting others because of it. 

Fandom is where we go to escape the hellish fucking bullshit that is reality, for fuck’s sake.

I don’t fucking care who hurt you. Visiting pain upon others in the aftermath is your choice. Bullying others because a group of impressionable, hurting people looking for a leader will follow you into the trenches here on a battlefield where we should all fucking know better is your choice. 

Your feelings aren’t always your choice. That’s fair.

The way you choose to express and react to and process and deal with those feelings IS your choice.

Your actions are your choice.

So try to be kind. Try to be empathetic. Understand your feelings and understand when you are being manipulated and for god’s sake, when other queer people come out in droves to tell their stories, try to think critically, even if they are on the other “team.” Block content that upsets you. Use tools available to you to keep yourself safe! Blacklist tags. Blacklist URLs. Block people. Be frank about your triggers if you are able and try to give people the benefit of the doubt -- and if you can’t, put space between you and them, and then use the myriad of tools available to you to put a wall in that space. 

I know all about the kind of catharsis that comes from being a “mean gay.” I know all about constructing a set of rules within a group and then judging others outside that group by that context and punishing them when they fail purity tests they knew nothing about. I know all about fighting disrespect with disrespect and anger with anger and logging out at the end of the day to go cry -- not because I was sad, but because I was so fucking angry I couldn’t process the emotion any other way. 

I also know all about walking away from that life, that toxicity. I know about taking a break. I know about reading, a lot, for months and years, about experiences both like and very much unlike my own. I know about resolving to be better. I know about cutting out the people who made me worse, and keeping the people who encouraged me to be better. 

I know how much my life improved when I endeavored to keep my venting and negativity among friends who could actually support me, in places where I couldn’t hurt anyone, and present a positive force to the public, instead. To lift up the things I like and to block and move on with the things I don’t. To let creators have their space and their platform here in this one place where we can each carve out some small part for ourselves and feel like we are in control for once in our fucking lives. I know I stopped crying so much. I know my hobbies stopped making me so angry, all the time. I know that the only times I have been truly, deeply upset in my time in this fandom have been when I have been targeted or those I care about have been targeted. 

I know how fucking hard it is to tear yourself away. 

I know how fucking worth it it is. 

Take care of yourselves. 

[bootisimo]

ok so i dont care if im spamming my personal shit bc this is fucking tumblr & i need to just talk abt things

so im going to talk abt my best friend audrey. i havent had a best friend since around 7th grade (I’m a graduating senior this year) & my overall friend group has been really unstable & changes a lot, so I didn’t realize it at the time, but I haven’t made any deep connections in high school and it’s kinda sucked. Pair that up with me being super insecure because everybody talked about me behind my back in middle school and literally nobody outside of my group of 5 friends could stand to be near me (which I only learned around 2 months ago & it’s fucked me up so much, especiallyl because i was so oblivious & for all i know the same thing could still be happening), so I’ve felt very isolated and alone without realizing it for basically all of my scary developmental years. & then this new girl comes to school, and I meet her a the beginning of senior year! & she’s so wonderful and we click so well and after knowing each other for barely any time i felt so close to her and I was essentially drunk off of finally being close to someone again and she was all i ever thought abt bc i loved spending time with her so much! ((that sounds weird and obsessive but i promise im exaggerating i just kinda accidentally started idolizing her and absorbing her mannerisms bc thats what i always do)) & following my stupid fucked up pattern for people im clsoe to, i was all over her for a few months then i started doing that isolating thing and i convinced myself that her & the rest of my friends barely tolerate me (it didn’t help that this is senior year & shit actually did happen w two of my other close friends so my friend group is shrinking rapidlyl and i dont want to put effort into roping it back together), so I became really unhappy without realizing it bc i repress everything and i literally have so much trouble processing and actually feeling what’s going on around me . thats where my problems with derealization come from, because it crosses the line into literally not being able to say if im awake or in a dream, or if i exist or not, so how the fuck would i be able to know if i was happy or unhappy? im realizing tonight that ive been actually, truly depressed for an indeterminant amount of time, and that really scares me with the whole bipolar issue bc ive figured out that i cant live life without control. i need independence and control over my entire sense of self or i can’t cope, and its super unhealthy but its the only way i know how. and if im bipolar like im starting to believe i might be and like my therapist thinks is a definite possibility, then kind of by definition that means that i don’t have control, over my actions or my moods or my life, especially if it’s bad enought that i need medication. and judging by just how bad things have been recently, right when i start being able to feel my emotions without automatically shutting them down (so I’m feeling them to the full extent that i shielded myself from, in other words), i don’t think i can succeed, or even survive, on my own if this is what my daily life becomes. I’m losing my control right before I’m really going to need it, right before i turn 18 and go to college and actually need to take care of myself, and I’m so anxious about it that I constantly feel like I’m going to vomit, and like there’s a dumbbell sitting both on my chest and at the bottom of my stomach. when I repressed everything, i was always relaxed. i literally could not make myself stress or feel bad about anything, which is super unhealthy, but now it’s like i can’t make myself not be stressed, and i can’t reverse it!! I’ll try to feel like I used to because not feeling is so so so much easier than feeling, but it’s like I’ve forgotten how!! 

anyway part of the reason my relationship with audrey is so good and so bad is bc it’s super hard for me to actually talk to her, because I always struggle with guilt because of how easy my life is compared to my friends. feeling like i have things better than anyone makes me feel so guilty that i want to die, which is probably a part of the depressive episodes, so I’ll go through periods where I’ll talked to audrey but i literally wont’ say anything to her bc i feel so guilty about how much she has to deal with, and then it’s like we aren’t even friends anymore and its 100% my fault because I consciously pull away and just think about dying for a week or two and convince myself that i dont need or deserve any friends or anyone to talk about the issues im having with. when i actually do share things with audrey, i lover her even more, because she never makes me feel guilty for having things she doesnt, and she always reminds me to that im trying to be conscious of the differences in our lives, and she always makes me feel so good about myself because that’s the kind of person she is. she’s been through so much more than most people, and I don’t even know a lot of the details about her life. its amazing though not just because she went through it--it always pisses me off as a trans person when people tell me i’m “brave” just for living and transitioning, and i know she would feel the same if i thought she was amazing just bc she’s survived so much. but she’s amazing for how she deals with it, mostly. you can tell she has a lot of problems coping but she still always makes an effort to make people feel included, and to better herself, and to be fucking kind. I’m always so amazed by how kind she is and how little she deserves all the shit that life throws at her, and I dont say that to her bc it’s always uncomfortable when people tell you that, but I’m really starstruck by her. i very often just start thinking about what a genuinely caring, selfless person she is--not like me, who does everything because of the reaction that I anticipate from other people. when she’s kind, you can just tell that it’s because she wants to be kind and doesnt care about the consequences. she is a good person far deeper down than I am and its amazing to see that at work. I’ve actually been standing up for my beliefs and saying something when I think someone’s in the wrong just because I’ve been around her and I’ve seen her do that 

but the worst thing is that we met so close to the end of graduation. we just found out we’re all staying in the area next year but with my habit of suddenly dropping people for no reason, I can’t guarantee we’ll stay close, and that makes me so so sad because I genuinely think the more time I spend with audrey, the better a person I become. it’s hard to balance because I also make all my bad decisions with audrey because we fuel each other because w’ere so similar, so that makes it hard to. (haha we’re both geminis after all, and i dont believe in astrology but the idea that two geminis always have short, intense bursts of relationships, so they’re hard to make last, seems super accurate for us, and I’m afraid that tha’ts whats going to happen) 

anyway I’m just typing a lot because dear audrey gave me an adderall to take so i could last the night & not die, and it’s more than I normally take, so my focus on this post is so intense, and adderall makes you rambly anyway. it’s good to take a lot every once and a while though because just thinking things through in this focused, controlled but optimistic and basically unbiased outlook that adderall gives you can be super helpful--typing this out has actually been pretty similar to my therapy sessions, except nobody has to ask me questions and prod at what I say to interpret my thoughts. damn i hope i can get a prescription because i feel like this is exactly how people who can actually ge their work done and not drift off constantly feel like, and I feel like now that I know how adderall feels and how homework is actually feasible when I take even a small dose, like half of a 30mg pill, I can’t expect myself to keep fumbling through my academic life once it costs 20k per year, and when I’m not on adderall, I’m always, always fumbling and confused, no matter what I’m doing. I feel like I’m just realizing how much I need it, and the people around me aren’t as surprised because they’ve always seen it, because it’s literally always been there, but they just assumed I was disorganized and spacey, and when I say “I think I have ADHD,” theyre’re jsut like “oh, I never thought of that but now that you’ve said it I absolutely believe that, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” It’s inhibited me enough in my life, especially in school, that in my freshman year all of my teachers called my parents in and told them to test me & my sister for ADHD, and the only reason it never happened is because there was a miscommunication and my mom thought the school had screend us for free, when me & emma have never ever seen a doctor about it 

things are jsut bad rn bc it’s like i stand on both edges of a really small planet. on one side is the adhd stuff, and the realization that if I get treatment, life could be a lot more possible for me than I ever knew it was possible to me. on the other side is the emotions that I’m not able to repress anymore (maybe it’s the bipolar vs the adhd, maybe not--again, not diagnosed, and definitely not self diagnosing). these emotins that I’m actually starting to be able to process are a lot worse than I ever realized they were, and it’s promising the opposite of the adhd side--that things could get much worse than I ever knew they could get, and that they’re already headed that way. 

sorry for making you all scroll past this thing, but it’s been really helpfulto be able to sort my thoughts out like this. I definitely feel like i just prepared myself to make progress in my therapy session on friday, at the very least. maybe things can actually be ok after all

[artificialqueens]

Cynics in the Dark, Ch. 3 - Dark Bars (Bianca/Violet) - by BeautifulMistake

Full summary: They were both too cynical to let it go anywhere. But he made her laugh. And she made him sweat. An alternate universe romance fic with some genderfuck elements. Featuring Bianca Del Rio/Roy Haylock as a non-drag comedian and Violet Chachki as a transwoman from a powerful society family in New York. Rated T for now, but eventually M.

Chapter summary: Roy and Violet hang out for the first time. Getting to know her, he finds for a lot of reasons she’s sticking in his mind.

Chapter 3 - Dark Bars

The first time he heard it that night, he thought he imagined it. He was doing a set at one of his regular club gigs downtown, and he knew his head hadn’t been as in the game as much as usual. He’d been thinking about her since that night working the party, for no reason he could name, so when he first thought he heard her weird bird voice among the laughter out in the dark of the audience, he kicked himself for being ridiculous. But when he heard it a second time, a laugh like nobody else’s, his stomach fluttered as he realized. Shit. She was here.

He shifted from absurdly pleased at the notion– had she gone out of her way to look up when he’d be performing again? –to suddenly thrown. He was too much of a professional to let it show in his performance, but in his head it brought up all kinds of rookie shit, like second-guessing his whole goddamn routine in the middle of things; she’d probably dig the social media stuff, but the race jokes would be a bridge too far.

Inwardly he side-eyed himself. Since when did he care that somebody didn’t like his material? Since when was he ever, when he engaged the audience in the act, torn between hoping not to see somebody and hoping to catch a glimpse?

Still, he couldn’t stop tracking her reaction. She wasn’t consistent, so every time she dropped out he was sure he lost her. Sure enough, she didn’t laugh through much of the racial stuff– lot of white girls didn’t know how –but she didn’t walk out, either, because eventually he’d hear her again.

When the set was over, he packed up his shit in record time in hopes that he’d catch her, surprised at his own eagerness. Feeling absurdly high school about the whole thing, he threaded his way through the lobby, trying not to make it too obvious he was looking.

Shit. He should have known. Of course he wouldn’t have to look hard. Her height and her heels stuck her way above the crowd, plus she had a knack for finding just the right light. Even in the dark club, of course he’d just have to look for the one bare bulb in the place that would emphasize her cheekbones.

“Excuse me, miss, but the Narc Anon meeting’s down the block.”

She turned her eyes to him but not her body. “You know you’re pretty fucking racist.”

“You’d know, white girl.” Christ, he was grinning like an idiot. “What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to see what you did when you were off the leash. Guess that was it.”

“Come on, I heard you laughing, bitch.”

She eyed him. “You heard me?”

He felt self-conscious suddenly, but tried to play it off. “You have kind of a– distinctive laugh.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Like goddamned Woody the Woodpecker.”

He jumped to reassure her, a little too quickly. “Nah, it’s nice!” He walked it back a little. “I mean, give me anything but those hipsters who think nodding shows that you thought something was funny.”

She shifted against the wall she was leaning on to face him. “Well, lucky for you I’m desperately avoiding going home.”

Okay, between that and her crying in the closet at Prisca, now he was curious. What the hell, he thought. “Well, long as you got nowhere to be… you want to get a drink?”

She eyed him a moment, and he half-expected she was going to laugh in his face. But at last she tossed him a grin. “My sponsor will kill me. Let’s go.”

They hit up a different dark bar just a few blocks away. Violet suggested it; he was amused to find she already seemed to know the area, like she was a regular. He laughed to himself; of course rich bitch liked to slum it. As they settled in and ordered, Roy considered what to say to her. He could tell this girl had a hell of a story, and he had to admit he was curious about it. He had a way of getting people talking; he prided himself on being able to chat with anybody, and judgmental as he was, he had a knack for the kind of ribbing that put people at ease. But It turned out he didn’t have to bother. Miz Violet Dardo had come out ready to put on a show, and girl didn’t just have a telenovela; hers was a nighttime soap written by a sexual sadist.

The poor-little-rich-girl stuff was par for the course, involving a distant, pilled-out mother and a rich corporate daddy who may or may not murder brown hookers in his spare time. But Violet herself was trans, as it turned out, which explained her ridiculous height. She’d been stone cold certain since she was six years old, and had waged a full-on war with her parents until they ponied up for the transition. That deal might have been a mess in any old family, but for the Dardos there was some crazy rich-people shit going on, too– battling for control of inheritances, child advocate attorneys, abusing loopholes in trust fund terms. Threats were made on both sides of the aisle, ranging from reeducation camps to good old fashioned blackmail. But in the end, Violet got what she wanted, a complete physical overhaul into the woman she was meant to be. All for the low, low price of a move to Manhattan where no one knew them, an NDA with her own goddamn parents, and the constant ambient hostility of everyone involved.

Roy listened, mostly without comment. He wasn’t easily rattled, and had certainly heard some sick stories in his time, but something about the cold, corporatized way it had all gone down made his skin crawl. He was no stranger to family strife, but it was supposed to be yelling and crying, not legal actions and hush money.

“Jesus,” he said when she was through. “And here I thought my creepy uncle fucked me up.”

“Oh, I got three of those. Except now I’m safe because they’re all disgusted by me.”

“Well, I’m glad the situation’s improved.”

“I guess. You’d think if none of them could stand to look at me, I’d get a lot less shit.”

“If it’s that bad, why do you stick around?”

“Because they’ll get to keep my trust fund if I leave.”

He stared at her with his best bitch, please. But she stared back, unabashedly. “It’s eleven point three million. You’d stay too.”

He whistled. “Yeah, for that much, Daddy can saddle me up and ride me around the room. In fact, let me know if there are any job openings.” She trill-laughed at that, which made him bolder. “Better rich and miserable than poor and miserable. Baby likes her shoes, I see.”

“And her HRT.”

“Fair. A body like that can’t come cheap.”

“Lamborghinis never do.”

He snorted. “That good, huh?”

“I wasn’t playing around.”

“Must not have been, to get that much done under the hood. How’s it drive?”

She glared at him. “Bitch, it’s fucking perfect.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “According to whom?”

“Ask around.” She downed her cocktail, set aside the glass, and signaled for another all without breaking eye contact. “So are you joking to cover that you’re freaked out?”

That was more direct than he expected. Freaked out wasn’t the word for it. Sure, it was fucked up, her multi-million-dollar psychodrama. But most of all, it was sad, achingly sad in a way he didn’t usually like to think about; now that she finally felt like a human being, everyone who really knew her saw her as a monster. Cold heartless bastards like him didn’t like to dwell on that sort of thing. But he was pretty damn sure she didn’t want his pity.

True to form, though, he didn’t need more than a moment to come back. “I always lead with the asshole thing. I like folks to know what they’re in for upfront.”

Her lips quirked. “Me too. If they’re going to be scared off, better get it out of the way quick.” Her tone was joking, but even to him the words were all too real.

They chatted a bit longer after that, of lighter things than defense mechanisms and the state of her messed-up life. Eventually her phone buzzed, apparently with a text, and after checking it she stretched and began collecting her things.

“Curfew calling?” he asked.

“Yeah, my P.O. gets on my ass if I’m out too late.” She stood to go, then looked back at him over her shoulder. “Thanks for all the laughs.”

He grinned. “Least I could do. You paid for the drinks.”

Roy went home that night with their conversation running through his mind. And when he jerked himself before he fell asleep and couldn’t quite get there, calling up the memory of that cowl neckline skimming over her breasts made him splatter all over his stomach.

[pigeonacademic]

Sweetums, I'm sorry but you DID. Your dumb ass got too scared of backlash, so you've blocked me and instead of reblogging, you're talking via chat, as if that's going to save you!

Yeah, you've sort of already did argue with me and you're dragging it on. I admit it was funny seeing some self entitled wannabe victim of something you never personally experienced, and no, trauma CAN'T pass down through the generations like one of your other buddies claimed. That is pure fucking bullshit, anyone with even a quarter of a brain knows that. YOU are never going to change, BUT you should, for the health and safety of everyone else around you. Nobody could give two shits what happens to someone as hateful as you. You're no better than the Nazis you claim you hate. You want to make fun of my fanart? What the hell do you draw? At least I'm doing something instead of bullying people!

Yeah, I fucking love Hetalia, you know why? I spent most of life in shitty small towns in Alabama, we never even had internet because of how poor we were. When my grandparents adopted us after Mom was unable to care for us because a certain health care program fucked her over so badly and on top of losing her job because of her injury, for once we had a home where we had luxuries like internet. Quotev, my first social media site, introduced me to Hetalia. By then, I was twelve going on thirteen, struggling from the MAJOR transition from South to North, and to having new family who I hadn't seen in years on top of being mercilessly bullied JUST for being Southern to where I had junk chucked at my head by assholes whenever I tried to get to my locker. Hetalia was the first anime I was introduced to (if you don't count Dragonball Z and Hamtaro, which I seen when I was REALLY little on TV. I don't remember much of either) so yeah, it may be cringey to you, but whatever hell you're into right now sure is just as bad.

Yeah, it's 2017, SO GET SOME TASTE OF YOUR OWN AND STOP BULLYING PEOPLE YOU SHITHEAD. Also, you want to talk about taste, sugar? I noticed your username when said aloud, sounded VERY familiar. I remember Dad’s dad (Southern grandpa, in other words) telling me stories of such a creature when I was little, but it’s been a good decade or so since I heard about them, so with a little google search-

Look at your damn username. Naming your blog after a MYTHICAL CREATURE? (As well as something from the White Wolf fandom, so either way, you're a tasteless ass nerd.) 

Look you’re even hostile, just like it! I bet by just going into the wiki page, I can find a whole loto shit that applies to you. You may actually even be a Fomori- Let's see what you look like then based upon your species:

PFFFT. Yeah, you're actually just what I imagined you to look like. @saiyanhero  @diaroon  It’s hilarious, because they were rabbitting on me for having no taste-buuuuuuuut when you pick a creature like this for your blog, then go around bullying people, well, if you’re going to do that don’t dare bring up blog quality, looks and fandoms. Not when the creature you picked is this ^ 

Now that that’s done, let’s take a looksie at their blog, okay? 

Oh, let’s see what’s wrong with this picture:

-NB lez.What's that supposed to mean? I know NB can stand for nonbinary, but the lez part?? I don't want to make assumptions here and assume that's a abbreviation for lesbian.

-Oh dear GOD, the fact you used the term MENTAL to describe yourself.. Yeah, you've proven you're a peice of shit already. I guess people weren't taking you (rightfully) seriously when you claimed to have PTSD because of what some Nazis did to your great grandparents in the concentration camps, so if you thought by putting "mental" this would somehow make you look more legit?? It makes you look more like an edgy twelve year old. If you actually HAVE something (which I bet you don't) then just fucking write it, mate! When most normal people see 'mental', they usually click out of the page, because we know what that edgy shit entails. 

-You're white. Good, because whilst I'm white passing I already posted photos of my Native American mother and grandparents just to prove to bigots like you that I'm actually mixed. So, since you're so FOND of pulling the "I'm Jewish so NANNANA!" card, can I pull the "I'm Mixed, so NANNAA!" card too? IF you want to talk bigotry, you are being a racist shitlord :) and my great grandparents went through just as much hell as yours, sooooooo- (Including the one who went off to fight those damn Nazis.)

-Seventeen, just like me! YAY! 

We can dance! 

We can jive! 

Having the time of our lives! Ooh, see those kids- Watch that scene! Dig in the dancing Queens- Young and sweet Only seventeen-

I'll look into your "read before following" later.

  Oh, so you're in Britain or are you paranoid because you pissed off a few Brits, thus why you want to know who's viewing your blog?SLAM POETRY BANDCAMP?? X'D I'm sorry, but when I first read that I thought "HOLY SHIT THERE'S A CAMP FOR THIS?!" Because holy hell that was golden. So after recovering from laughing. You might want to change where you place your links :') By the way, slam poetry is just Baby's First Rap Battle. 

-Believe in reverse oppression. Uh, I hate to break it to you, but you have no right to be calling it reverse oppression (It's just oppression) BUUUUUT since you want to go there, let me bring up one itty bitty thing that this site deems invalidates you from ANYTHING oppressive:

YOU. ARE. WHITE. Yeah, according to Dumblr, Jewish or not, if you're white then you're automatically more privileged than anyone else! Me, I'm barely scraping by since I'm white passing, but you just outright said you were white, so therefore you're oppressing me :) See how ridicolous this is? Yeah.

-Are truscum/transmedicalist/you know what I mean. Uh, I actually don't. I've heard truscum before but I never knew it's meaning. I'll google it real quick-

OH.. Well that just solidifies that you're a stinky piece of shit.  I guess being Jewish wasn't enough for you, you had to get something else to balance out that whiteness. Being nonbinary is actually okay, but the fact you don't think people need dysphoria to be trans..well, fuck you and everyone who thinks like you. Several of my friends are transgender, one who just came out to me very recently. The one I know has a transphobic family so he's dealing with a lot of bullshit from them as well as people like you!! He can't even transition because of his family and it fucking TEARS HIM DOWN. Then you people say you don't need dysphoria to be trans?? Okay, so what, are you supporting of transtrenders taking up all the hormone pills for transitioning, then them at BEST stop taking the pills because they're getting dysphoria, or at worst, killing themselves because of that?? Pretending that they were transgender but the moment they actually start taking treatment, they regret it?? Wow. Piece of fucking shit confirmed even more so than it has already been.

-are a terf / gender critical / sympathetic w terfs and the like

Okay, at least this part I agree with. However, how do you determine if someone is a terf sympathizer? Do you do it the same way you label people as Nazi sympathizers? Yeah, I bet you do. 

-ship dirkjake (at all), willhannibal, or any other abusive ships (u can shoot me an ask or w/e if ur a survivor and ill take the situ into consideration)

OH MY FUCKING GOSH- Listen kiddo, YOU NEVER take that into consideration!! I already made a post on this before but IF YOU PULL AT THIS AND YET PUT "But this doesn't apply to survivors tho UwU" then I'm sorry, BUT YOU ARE ALREADY HURTING SURVIVORS. Also, not even that you'd "take it into consideration" so what, if the person disagrees with you on something you automatically take away their SA or CSA status? Damn, you truly are one hell of a horrible, nasty ass fomori.

-interact w anyone on this list -interact with kin of dirk from homestuck Er, I'm not into Homesuck but I can tell that whatever this is, you're definitely the crazed one here. If anyone is kin with a fictional character, yeah I get weirded out, but honestly, what do you have against this Dirk fella? 

-i am:

white english i do not experience transmisogyny

Yeah, you don't experience trans-misogyny because you're NOT transgender! You're nonbinary, but not transgender.

and

nonbinary lesbian

Now this got me really confused: How can you be nonbinary and a lesbian? That, and your pronouns said "they/he", so I am assuming 'she' is not part of your identity. When I'm done with this, I'll look it up, because otherwise, it's just..it's not looking good for you.

-nd (autism and trauma stuff etc)

Welcome to the club, buddy! :D I personally have AS (doctor diagnosed), which is on the autism spectrum. As for your trauma, judging from the shit you send, is it because of what the Nazis did to your great grandparents? I'm sorry, that is not actual trauma, it's just you feeling VERY strongly for how they felt. A good part of me is saying that you just self diagnosed, so you don't even have any of what you claim. Another part of me wants to believe you on the autism one at least, but it's a rocky balance.

-working class Same here, buddy, and it's to where my grandparents can't even afford a babysitter for my two little sisters so I have to stay home to watch them all the time while they work.

-if ur in britain and this is ur first time viewing my blog send me an ask telling me who u r and that ur not a threat. (if u wanna be extra kind, click my viewcounter and lmk which one is u)

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA- Remember what you said on how my blahblahbalhblah instilled to where I thought you and the others were threats??

That was the pot calling the kettle black, YOU JUST ADMITTED YOU THINK PEOPLE ARE THREATS BEFORE THEY EVEN MEET YOU HOLY SHIT- Talk about paranoid, and I thought my paranoia was bad when this truck pulled up alongside me when I was going somewhere so I decided to be safe and run-BAHAHAH! Wow..just wow.

-please identify yourself if youre gonna thoroughly go thru my blog and/or personal tags, it really REALLY stresses me out.

AW, what a little pansy!! People going through YOUR BLOG YOU KEEP UP an the TAGS YOU KEEP OUT IN THE OPEN BY YOUR OWN WILL stresses you out?? Aww!!  Maybe later Mummy can get you a juice box and cookies to help you feel better about it!!

Seriously mate, you do realize that people are doing this without even consulting you?? HOW is it stressful?? Are you worried people will find something you wanted to keep hidden??

What a poor excuse for someone that hails from the UK. 

-im shit at tagging triggers. if theres smth you really need tagging lmk n ill try my best but im forgetful

"Shit at tagging triggers" BRO. All it takes is a FEW SECONDS to type at LEAST "TW".  Nah, you're just really lazy and you don't want to deal with people on your ass about tagging triggers. I mean, you're NOT a decent human being so I don't expect you to understand what a common trigger is.

-i post a lot of fuck knows what. aesthetic? theres some fandom but idk what fandoms but everythings tagged and its mostly aesthetic and memes afaik, i wont put shit i like here bc i never update my theme but like? good omens and That Gay Shit

Generic ass description of what people typically blog. Gotcha.

-blacklist

SO YOU DO HAVE A BLACKLIST! Here's a hint for everything above: USE IT!

Let’s take a look in that list, shall we? 

-tag or die -rare and necessary:

Pfft, sorry but when I saw the title of your blacklist I immediately thought about the "Join or Die" thing that the USA had during the Founding Fathers' era. Not relevant, just something I found hilarious.

-loss -slits Okay, these are typical triggers that do have a lot of relevance, so I won't fault these.

-ketchup (!!!)

Ketchup?? Uh, is it because it looks like blood? Once again not judging the UK's quality of ketchup or if you've ever actually seen blood in your life, so I will let this slide.

-baked beans (!!!) ..........Baked beans? Seriously? Uh, I THINK I have a reason on why this would trigger you, but unfortunately, you would get triggered by me saying it. Either ways, what have baked beans done to you?

-condiments (!!!) - preferably this one over the two above because just mentioning those things can upset me. i know. its weird. fuck off.

Wow, you're one to talk to me about shit, lol. "Wahhh its weird, FUCK OFF M8!" (You in a nutshell) Ketchup I can actually see some people getting upset with, seeing if its not on food and splattered everywhere, it can look like blood depending on how runny it is, the coloring and people who don't see a lot of blood in their life.  What other condiments upset you? Mustard?  (I think I know the reason behind this one too, lol). Mayo? Kind of weird since you're 100% white, but I guess it does look like a body fluid. Relish? Well, it doesn't look like vomit, so I don't know what you have against it.

-repulsion stuff (necessary af): Once again I can agree with this.

-essentially everything and anything sex related i blacklist most tags trifold so ur covered Okay, this I can understand. -other

-dirk strider (i also blacklist #dirk) homestuck dirkjake

..............Okay, like I said I know nothing about the Homestuck fandom, and it seems you hate it too, and it APPEARS that the DirkJake ship is abusive/problematic with you, so I'll let that slide. However what the fuck do you have against one character?

-furry mlp my little pony

Furries, yeah I can see. I'm friends with one, but nobody wants to see two animals at it on their dash. However, MLP? What, are you allergic to friendship or something or feel so miserably lonely because nobody wants to bother being friends with someone like you? I don't blame them honestly.

-stridercest bro strider trypophobia bright red Welp,  I looked up trypophobia..I don't blame you for blacklisting it, that shit is freaky.

-food eating

....................Okay, are you a plant or something?

-catch all

rigdontlook

No idea what those are.

I just took one look at your whole blog..HOLY SHIT people, we got ourselves a contender for Guineapig Kin!! It’s as if Mubz, Guineapig Kin, Morning Star and Lucifer all spliced theirs to make this! This will have to be a whole new post, gdi-

[all-my-novels]

Iris. [SDRA2 Sannohashi oneshot]

read on ao3 here if you please

plot:

and i don’t want the world to see me ‘cause i don’t think that they’d understand when everything’s made to be broken i just want you to know who i am.

syobai hashimoto has to fix the biggest mistake he’s ever made in his life. mikado sannoji has to deal with what syobai leaves behind when he runs away. it was never supposed to go this far.

syobai-focused sannohashi, set in the “nuclear” AU. more explained inside. featuring trans!mikado and sora/syobai friendship. tw for mentions of suicide attempt in the beginning.

notes:

So to make a long story short, this series takes place after a huge nuclear war decimated half of the human population and fucked up a lot of shit with the environment and people’s bodies. Everybody knows shit’s fucked. The SDRA2 kids exist in the same universe as the rest of the canon Ultimates, and everyone’s around the same age (THH and NDRV3 kids are about 22, SDR2 kids are 23, SDRA2 kids are around 20-21). So everyone’s an adult. Don’t come for my throat. Don’t like it, don’t leave a nasty comment, thanks! Bad and stinky comments will be placed inside the bee oven to atone for their sins.

It’s not often that Syobai admits this, but this time, he’s absolutely, completely, royally, fucked up. Badly. And normally he doesn’t care, but this time is so very different. Sitting at a table in a nearly-empty diner at half-past noon is not where he thought he was gonna end up today, but here he is, with his head in his hands, staring down at his phone’s lock screen, counting the minutes since Sora sent her “omw" text.

This diner serves whiskey. A lot of places serve liquor now, have since the war tore the world apart and left millions of traumatized people to deal with the aftermath, many of them turning to alcohol to cope. Syobai has been drinking since the ripe old age of ten, so that’s not new to him, and the whiskey they have here is strong, and it’s tempting.

It’s so, so tempting. But if he does that, it won’t end very well for him; first of all, Sora would likely – definitely – beat his ass into next week if she shows up and finds him drunk. Second, in the state he’s currently in emotionally, if he gets drunk, all he’s going to do is remember things, and when he remembers things, he ends up waking up on the bathroom floor at 3 AM in a puddle of his own tears with a bottle of pain pills in his hand.

So Syobai won’t drink. Not today, anyway. But God damn, does he really want to smoke.

As soon as he starts to get up to go outside (the diner has a no smoking policy, which he thinks is stupid considering the fact that nuclear warfare has done shit to the air they don’t even know about yet, but he’s not willing to get kicked out and risk a beating by Sora yet again), the universe interferes with his life once more. Sora steps in through the door of the diner.

Well there goes that plan.

She spots him fairly quickly and strides over to the booth in the back corner, sliding into the seat like nothing’s changed. Syobai remembers when they’d used to skip class every Wednesday and go down to the diner down the street from Hope’s Peak, the one that served all the crazy Western food, and dare each other to eat the craziest shit on the menu as fast as they could without puking or choking. Sora, of course, would win every time, and "claim her victory for all of the lesbians out there.”

It’s enough to make him smile a little bit. The diner was abandoned when the war started, but they still hang out there sometimes.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s wrong with you?”

Sora’s voice breaks through his thoughts, and Syobai lifts his head to look at her. She’s got her chin in her hand, and her elbow propped on the table.

“Elbows on the table? Not very lady-like,” Syobai jokes. With her free hand, Sora flips him off, and he snickers. “I’m kidding, geez. Who says there’s anything wrong with me?”

Sora points at the complimentary basket of chips the diner serves with every customer. “There’s food on the table, and you haven’t eaten it all yet to spite me. Now, I asked you nicely. Don’t make me come over there.”

Well. Looks like he can’t stall his explanation anymore.

He lets out a long, heavy, slow sigh, and laces his fingers together in front of him on the table. Syobai turns his grey-eyed gaze down towards the surface of the table, before forcing himself to look up and meet Sora’s eyes.

“I need your help,” he says simply. “I fucked up.”

“You do that a lot. Elaborate.”

“I fucked up really, really bad.” Syobai pauses. “With Mikado.”

Sora tilts her head. “Last time I asked, you told me the two of you were "just sleeping together casually.” Did you lie to me, Syobai?“

Syobai swallows heavily. He can hear his heart beating in his ears.

"Mikado is pregnant,” he finally says. The words actually leaving his lips feel like the final blow in a fight, and he’s just lost. “With my children.”

“… oh.” Sora blinks a few times. “So this was an accident, I take it? Whatever happened to high school Syobai Hashimoto who carried five different types of condoms in his wallet at all times just in case he met a hot guy walking home from school?”

“Hey, in my defense, I usually still have condoms.” Yes, they’re a bit harder to find nowadays, as is almost everything, but up until now, he’s always managed to have one on hand for when the two of them start feeling frisky (which tends to happen at least once a day). “To answer your question, though, what happened is Setsuka decided to get hitched.”

“The party,” Sora gasps, remembering suddenly. “Oh, my God. So you two did fuck in the bathroom! Emma owes me five thousand yen.”

“Yes, we did do that,” Syobai mumbles. It’s not totally his fault, he thinks. It’s not like Mikado wasn’t grinding on him half the night, begging him to fuck him as hard as he could against the wall. It’s no doubt the best sex he’s ever had in his life.

And, of course, it’s the one time they fuck without a condom and without pulling out. Not that that’s guaranteed to help anything, but hey, it might have? Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on Syobai’s part.

“So what’s the problem?” Sora continues. “Does he not want the babies?”

Syobai looks away. “I, uh. I don’t know.”

Sora’s eyes narrow dangerously. “You didn’t talk to him about it?”

Syobai gives a dry laugh. “Well, ya see, that’s where the whole ”I fucked up really bad“ bit comes in.”

“What’d you do.” This isn’t spoken as a question, somehow, as Sora’s voice deepens. She’s already pissed off, great, and Syobai has a feeling she won’t be any happier when he tells this part of the story.

“Um.” Syobai swallows again, more nervous this time. “I… I ran off.”

Silence. “Excuse me?” Sora says. “You wanna run that by me again?”

Syobai still isn’t meeting her eyes. He recalls exactly how the exchange went, just about two hours ago now.

“I’m pregnant.”

The world stops turning.

Mikado’s holding his hands over his stomach, gloved fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt so tightly his hands shake. Syobai, on the other hand, just. Stands there. Staring at Mikado, completely speechless.

Before he knows it, his body is reacting all on its own. Syobai opens his mouth, trying to form an intelligent response, but all that comes out is two words he’ll regret deeply:

“I can’t.”

Before Mikado reacts to that, Syobai yanks the front door open and takes off down the street, running and running and running until he can’t, falling to his knees behind the 7-11 – how the hell did he get there, it’s a mile from the house – choking and coughing before he inevitably pukes from the strain of running so far, so fast.

This all goes through his head in the span of about two seconds. “I just stood there like an idiot,” Syobai finally says. “I – I said I can’t and then I ran.” His hand curls into a fist. “I ran like the dumb fucking coward I am.” He brings his fist down on the table as hard as he can. Sora doesn’t jump, instead staring at him evenly. “Go ahead and say it. I know you want to.”

“You’re right for once. What the hell is wrong with you?” Sora snaps. “I know that taking responsibility for your numerous fuck-ups is completely foreign to you, and usually you get away with it with no consequences because that’s just how it is when you deal with people you don’t care about and criminals, and hey, I can let it go when it’s some nameless Yakuza dude who got assassinated with a gun you sold someone 'cause I don’t care either,” she begins. “But then, you turn around and do this shit? To Mikado? To someone we all know, and yeah, he might be a rat, but he doesn’t deserve to be left high and dry and pregnant and scared because you –” And here she points at him, Syobai flinching as every word cuts deeper, “– are a fucking coward. You’re God damn right you screwed up.”

“I was scared,” Syobai says, his weak attempt at a protest surprising even himself.

“You were scared?” Sora laughs, and it’s bitter. “That’s funny. It’s funny that you were scared. How do you think Mikado feels right now? Alone, facing the possibility of having to raise more than one child by himself after the man he’s spent half of high school madly in love with, and the man he’s been sleeping with for the past six months, ran away when he told him he’d gotten him pregnant?”

There’s really nothing he can say to that. Syobai sighs shakily. “I wasn’t just scared because he’s pregnant,” he finally says. “I was scared because…”

He shuts his eyes.

“Because I love him. I love him, so much that it hurts, and I may as well have just stabbed him right in the chest.”

“And you’re not used to that,” Sora says. “You’re not used to caring for anyone except yourself. But as long as you kept telling yourself it was just for fun, and there were no feelings involved, you could shrug it off. Maybe a part of you thought Mikado felt the same way, like it was just a game. Then he started to make your world wider, you started to get comfortable with it, and you got scared. Then he came to you, and told you that it wasn’t just him anymore, and you panicked. You couldn’t handle it. But instead of staying there and talking to him about it like an adult, you were just cryptic, and then you ran away.”

Syobai opens his eyes and looks over at Sora. He somehow looks even older than he usually does. “Yeah. Yeah, you got me there.” He swallows, heavily, and his mouth tastes like copper from how hard he’s been chewing on his inner lip. “It was just supposed to be for fun. It was never supposed to be serious.”

“Yeah, well, tough shit,” Sora shrugs. “Mikado’s pregnant. You’re gonna be a dad. You could run all the way to America and it wouldn’t change a thing. The only difference is, Mikado has to live with what you gave him forever. You’ve got two choices: you can drag your sorry ass home and show Mikado you’re sorry, or you can keep running away. But, I’ll have you know…” And here, Sora’s voice darkens, and she looks more dangerous now than she ever did before even with a gun in her hands, “If you leave him like that? And if you ever run away from him like that again? And dare to show your face in Japan again? I will personally hunt you down and make you beg for me to kill you. Understand?”

“… yeah. I understand,” Syobai replies. He runs a hand through his hair while Sora takes a couple of breaths to calm herself down. “I don’t want to leave him. But I don’t think I’m ready to be a father. Or much of anything, really.” He looks down at his hands, rough and calloused and forever stained with the blood of so many that only he can see. “What if I can’t love them?”

“If you love Mikado as much as you say you do, you’ll fall in love with those babies way before they’re ever born,” Sora tells him. “Listen. This world’s gone to shit. It’s gonna be hard to raise a family like this. That’s why Yoruko and I are waiting. But it’s a little too late for you to do that, so all you can do is suck it up and do everything you can to make sure they never have to be a part of what we were.”

Sora’s words seal Syobai’s decision.

—

He tries calling Mikado to tell him he’s coming home for an hour, and gets absolutely no response. A part of Syobai is worried, desperately hoping Mikado didn’t do something stupid and end up hurting himself, and wants to get home as soon as he can, but…

The other part of him feels like if he just shows up at home with no warning, it’ll only make the situation that much worse.

So he calls, and calls, and calls, and gets sent to voicemail over and over, until finally, there’s an answer.

“Fucking Syobai Hashimoto,” a voice that is decidedly not Mikado’s comes through the speaker. “I ought to skin you alive and wear you like a fur coat. How dare you.”

Syobai sighs and frowns, rubs a hand over his face. “Hello, Nikei.”

“Don’t you hello, Nikei me!” The furious man spits over the phone. “Ever since Mikado told me you two were a thing, I’ve been looking for a reason to shoot you and make Why Syobai Hashimoto’s Death Should be Celebrated as a National Holiday an article on the front page news for a month straight! Now I finally get a reason and I can’t even do it because Mikado wants his kids to know their scumbag father!”

Syobai pauses. “… he wants me to come back?”

“I want you to come back, too,” Nikei starts to say. “So I can beat you to death with a baseball bat.” It sounds like he wants to say more, but then Syobai hears a very quiet, muffled voice in the background. It has to be Mikado. He strains to hear, but it’s no use, because the phone doesn’t pick up exactly what he’s saying. A few seconds later, though, he hears Nikei give a heavy sigh.

“Alright, fine. Mikado wants to hear you out, so I won’t be here when you get back, sadly,” Nikei mutters. “But I can be there in ten minutes tops if he calls me back, and I’d love to see you try to outrun my bullets.”

“Point taken.” Syobai closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath. “Tell him to leave the door unlocked. I’m coming home.”

—

It takes a little under an hour for Syobai to get home. He has to walk all the way there, after all, and he’s already tired, but he pushes through. By the time he makes it to the driveway, it feels like his legs are about to fall off.

Then he gets to the front door, puts his hand on the doorknob, and hesitates. It’s like all of the exhaustion evaporates, replaced by pure adrenaline and the urge to turn around and start running again.

No. He’s made up his mind. Syobai closes his eyes, the mental image of Mikado laughing brightly in his arms appearing to him with no trouble at all, without him even needing to think about it.

God. All the things he would do to make that smile come back to Mikado’s face. All the things he would do to forget the look of heartbreak he saw for just a split second when they were standing in the living room.

He turns the doorknob and walks inside the empty living room. His feet land in the same place they were, and he lets the door close behind him as he takes a few shallow breaths. The nagging little voice in the back of his head says you should’ve ended this a long time ago, Hashimoto. You always knew you’d never be man enough for him, to protect him, to care for him. You’re just a coward.

Syobai ignores it, pushes through the pain and walks over to the door of the bedroom he and Mikado have been sharing. Technically, it’s Syobai’s room, because this is his house, but his sheets smell like Mikado, and it’s his and Mikado’s clothes on the floor in that room, and there’s a picture of both of them hanging on the wall.

Syobai bites his lip so hard he tastes blood, then knocks three times on the door. He contemplates saying something to announce his presence, but finds it better to keep his mouth shut for right now.

At least, until the door opens up, and it’s Mikado standing before him, with no mask, his face clearly streaked and stained with tears. Syobai forces himself to look at his face, look him in the eyes, because Mikado deserves that, at least. He deserves so much more than what Syobai’s given him.

Neither of them really knows what to say at first. Then Syobai takes a shuddering, shallow breath.

“I’m sorry, for what I said,” Syobai finally says. “I said ”I can’t.“ That was a lie. I - I can, I just… didn’t want to face it.”

“I really hope you didn’t come all the way here just to say I’m sorry and expect me to forgive you,” Mikado says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Syobai shakes his head. “I’m not asking you to forgive me right now,” he murmurs. “I just want you to hear me out. Then you can do whatever you want. I swear. Please.”

Mikado bites his lip and looks down at the floor, contemplating. “Fine. But I’m not doing this for you.”

“That’s okay.” Syobai closes his eyes for a moment, then looks back evenly at Mikado as he slowly gets to his knees, now looking up at him. Mikado doesn’t hide the look of shock on his face as Syobai starts talking.

“Listen. I’m not gonna make excuses. I’m a coward, and I’m a fool. I broke your heart. When things go beyond my intentions, I try to own up to them. Today I ran away instead.” He swallows heavily, watches as Mikado shuts his eyes tight. “I - until you told me this morning, I was a man with nothing to lose. Nobody but myself. Then I went from that, to having everything to lose in two words. All my life, I never cared about what happened to anybody but myself. I didn’t give a shit. And now…” He looks at Mikado’s stomach, where he’s resting one of his gloved hands, as though he isn’t even thinking about it.

“I realized no matter how far I ran, or for how long, I’d never be able to forget that. I couldn’t change it. I can’t go back in time and stop what happened.” Syobai sighs. Mikado’s hands tremble. “The more I thought about it, the more I realized: I don’t want to stop what happened. I don’t want these kids to not exist.”

“Then why did you run away? Why’d you leave me?” Mikado chokes out.

There’s no turning back now. Syobai looks at Mikado right in the eyes, grey meeting pale brown, Syobai finally ready to say the words that could make or break him.

“Because I love you, Mikado Sannoji,” Syobai says, clearly, sincerely, the only words that have ever come from his mouth with complete purity. “I love you, and it’s real and it’s raw and it scares the living hell out of me, because I didn’t think I could until you walked into my life.” He reaches out, fully ready for Mikado to push him away. Instead, he’s pleasantly surprised when his cold hands are wrapped in Mikado’s warm ones. He hasn’t looked away from him, not for a moment, watching as more tears spill down Mikado’s face despite him trying to fight them. “I got through life by putting up paywalls, literally, and I knew no person in their right mind would ever wanna get past them.” He gives a little laugh. “I didn’t count on you, coming in and blowing holes through them.”

“Hey, I only blew a hole in a wall once, and that was an accident,” Mikado laughs and cries at the same time, his body trembling. By now, Syobai’s shaking too, but he’s still fighting his own tears.

“Well, you sure got rid of mine,” Syobai says. He lifts one of his hands to his lips and kisses his knuckles. “To be honest, I’m still scared. I don’t know what I’m doing, not with you, not with the kids we made, not with my life, but I do know one thing: I wanna figure it out with you, and nobody else.”

His voice cracks. Syobai swallows heavily, one last ditch-effort attempt at holding back his emotions.

“Will you let me stay here, right here, by your side?” Syobai asks, voice strained. “Will you let me become the man you deserve?” He sniffs, his last words coming in a quiet sob:

“Will you let me be a father?”

Mikado nods, squeezes Syobai’s hands, his decision made as soon as he sees the tears – so very real, undeniable evidence of Syobai bearing his soul to Mikado for the first time – coming down his face like rain.

“Yeah. Yes, let’s do it,” Mikado whispers. “Oh, my God. We’re gonna be fathers.”

Syobai leans forward a little, rests his head against Mikado’s belly, presses their still interlocked hands against the small, barely-noticeable swell, evidence that their children are safe, growing, and healthy. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to, as he rolls up the bottom of Mikado’s shirt and kisses his skin, so gently he’s afraid he imagined it at first.

Syobai Hashimoto doesn’t so much fall in love with Mikado Sannoji; instead, rather, he stumbles into it, clumsy and foolish and with no grace at all. But he falls in love with their little ones in a split second, a moment in time he’ll never forget.