#writing is cheaper than therapy

[hawkinshorror94]

Brain- "Make a normal back story for your character please"

Also Brain-"Imagine your crow Rook had a thing going on with the Viper, but broke it off after the Antaam incident because he is the one who encouraged her "to do what's right" and it got her in trouble. But then she is helping the shadowdragons and she feels the kindle reflaming, maybe they want to work things out. But then Rook has to decide between Minrathous and Treviso and she doesn't want her city obliterated, but she also wants to help the Shadowdragons, probably just The Viper really. So she helps Treviso and the crushing guilt of The Viper getting hurt nearly does her in-

I wish I dealt with my childhood trauma in a healthy way that doesnt reflect onto my OC's. 😂

[3-2-whump]

Friend needs cheering up?! *busts in your window with your favorite food and drinks*

So gush about your favorite whump tropes!!! 👀

-- @whumperofworlds

Thank you 🥹 you brought my favorites I see!

*slurping and munching noises*

So, my favorite whump tropes…

Well, I love an unequal power dynamic. Especially when it comes to the NSFW side of things. Rarely is consent asked in these circumstances, and if it is, does the disadvantaged party really have any choice but to say yes? Do they have the freedom to say no?

I love bondage because I am a human being with eyes and a working blood circulatory system. Idk how to fully explain it, but when I saw Aladdin at the impressionable age of …what, like four?… that was it for me. Just didn’t know what it was called or that I didn’t have to be embarrassed about it until semi-recently.

I also love culture whump, particularly as it pertains to language barriers. I haven’t published anything on this blog about it yet, but in my personal copy of Whumpee and Whumper’s stories (Khaled and Thomas), they can’t understand each other. One has limited English comprehension, the other doesn’t even know what language his pet is speaking. Of course, this changes as the story goes on, Khaled becomes fluent and forgets his natal tongue (with some encouragement), and that makes it all the harder on him when he’s eventually rescued and returned to his family.

Hang on to your hats, everyone, shit’s about to get real under the cut

My love of culture whump and language barriers probably stems from my long-underaddressed adoption trauma. I only just realized as I began seriously writing whump this last year that I also had my culture and my mother tongue ripped away from me without my consent, and, like my Whumpee, I may never be able to fully reclaim it in a way I would have if I had grown up within its framework my entire life. (No wonder I always write about it!) That is why, when my Whumpee recovers, he is never the same person he was before he was taken. But he is doing better than he was, even though his tongue stumbles clumsily around words his siblings could say in their sleep. He is happy enough. And that is enough.

Wow, making me emotional again. But it feels good to kind of lore dump/give backstory about the author now and again. And I do feel kinda better. So thanks!

[sweetsweetjellybean]

Chapter 5 of Torn is letting me get a little aggression out.

[bluefeatheredfeline]

The stuff in my WIP folder is for me. The stuff on AO3 is the blorbs I want to word dump at someone

Posting on AO3 is like, I'm doing this for myself, but also immediately refreshing the page every 5 seconds to see if you get any hits comments or kudos. But totally only writing for me.

[bluefeatheredfeline]

You ever want to write something F-ed up, but your brain is like, “babe, sweetie… chill”

[mslanna]

expressing complicated relationships through food wasn't on my bingo card for this WIP but here I am...

[pucksandpower]

I know Formula 1 is a business but have they considered that I’m attached to drivers and when bad things happen to my favorites I want to cry?

[luckkythirt33n]

at this point I'm not sure if it's brain rot or hyper fixation or both or a secret 4th thing

(I use men bcus writing them as men at this current moment)

[wayfayrr]

Hi, Moss!!

First of all, congratulations on 300 followers!!

I'd like to request some soft buttered rum with a yule log to eat in for the event!

I usually lurk in the shadows, but for this milestone, I thought I'll come forth from the darkness hehe <3

You're so awesome, I love all of your stuff, ESPECIALLY the self aware fics!!!!

I hope you have a great day/night <33

~Fi 🐝✨️

here's your order for you fi, it's very nice to see you in the light like this <3

Sorry that this one is shorter than the others so far </3 (there's a little context in the tags but I'm not gonna get into everything rn) soft twi is fun though, he's just a bit of a simp and a menace ain't he? just a soft boy with too many puppy vibes for his own good! even though this one is a little shorter I can promise there's more twi coming soon.

I'm glad you like the self-aware fics too!!! they're my pride and joy to write, seeing how many ways they can be taken and how fun every link could be in the situation. I've got wild on the back burner right now but he'll be one of the first to be up after I finish the event works

[Event masterlist]

“you like the snow Wolfie?” 

Twi's acting like a puppy right now, bounding around the field, occasionally stopping to shake off the snow. It’s nice to see him acting more carefree for once, seeing as he’s usually more stressed out about wild getting into trouble and such but for now he can just be more comfortable. 

It’s not for too long though as he shifts back after my question, by the look on his face probably because I’ve not been as active as he would like me to be right now. 

“Do you not darlin’?” 

Why does he look so smug. What is he planning to d- 

“LINK! Link that’s freezing come on.”

He’s not even listening, just snickering as he’s preparing another snowball. Well two can play at this game can’t they? 

I’ve just got to hit him more than he can hit me, simple enough right, should be fine not like he’s a hero who probably has much more everything than me. If I just - 

“You alright rancher? Got a little something on your face there.”

The way his nose scrunched up was downright adorable, even though only seconds later his own snowball was buried into my hair. The melted water running down onto my neck only fueled my desire to throw another. It was simply instinct for me to start making another…

Well start on it before he tackled me anyways.

“Whu- hey. What’s - what was that for?”

“Isn’t this more fun darlin’?”

“Twi come onnn.”

“I prefer this so much more [name]... unless you’d prefer that I go back to covering you with snow?”

“Oh so you’re playing like that then?”

If he wasn’t so stupidly strong I would so have flipped this on him already, but sadly he is stupidly strong even when he’s not putting any effort into it. Not that he’s really doing anything besides holding my wrists above my head and laughing lightly. 

“Are you planning on anything then?”

“Do you want me to do anything?”

“I - I mean… why wouldn’t I?”

Something shifted in his demeanour then, as he stopped laughing, his hands slipping to my waist as he stared into my eyes entranced. 

“You’d let me?”

“It’s you, twi of course I would.”

"... May I kiss you then?"

[bizarrelittlemew]

not even writing this fic anymore just re-reading the first 40k words going damn i wish the author would finish this (it's me i'm the author i have to finish it)

[asphodelles]

(WIP) company wide summer break means i get to redraw old art

[3-2-whump]

About the Author, or Adoption Trauma and Whump

Hi dear readers, this is 32W. Author, casual artist, and transnational adoptee, and as we reach the 28th anniversary of my adoption, I’m here to talk about adoption trauma and how it relates to whump.

TW/CW: adoption trauma, geopolitics, religious trauma (briefly mentioned/implied), gaslighting (briefly mentioned), objectification (briefly mentioned, sexual acts against a minor (briefly mentioned), metaphorical light gore

NOTE: The experiences of 32W with adoption are their experiences alone and cannot nor should be representative of every adoptees’ experiences. I love the people I call my parents, and I will always see them as such, but that does not change the basic facts that I will lay out below. This author also does not claim to be a geopolitical expert, nor a communist party expert, nor a Chinese spy -my god, I can’t believe I think I need to write that! Reader Discretion is advised.

I have been writing whump stories since my high school days back in 2010, and I have been writing pretty much the same story on and off for the past fourteen years. The names have changed, the faces have sort of changed, and the contexts have varied widely depending on what genre I had a phase in at that time, but a few core elements stayed the same:

Loss of culture

Loss of family

Loss of country

Loss of mother tongue

Forcibly living with someone who, though they could be worse, is still being forced to live with someone

Forced assimilation

Objectification

Losing trust in someone you trusted, respected, and loved

And while I have been writing whump with these themes for the past fourteen years, it only just occurred to me a couple months ago that all of those elements are also present in my personal experience with adoption. Basically, I process my adoption trauma through whump.

My parents wanted a baby. They wanted a baby after they had finally gotten my brothers out from underfoot, those problematic and troubled young men who are now strangers to me. My parents wanted a baby, preferably from another country, because of a recent court case in which the birth mother won back custody of her blood child and broke the adoptive parents’ hearts, so they wanted a baby from a place far away, where the chances of that happening were basically zero.

My parents wanted a baby.

And they got one.

From 1980 to 2016, the Chinese Communist Party implemented the One Child Policy in order to curb their country’s ever-climbing population. Consequentially, for many rural, agricultural, and often traditionalist families, this meant prioritizing sons over daughters, and thus hundreds of thousands of children –mostly girls- were scattered like stars, eventually landing in the arms of the richer, affluent Western countries. Though our circumstances of “abandonment” varied, we were all dispersed across the globe, unwilling, unaware, and now with different names and with parents that looked nothing like us.

Some of us ended up in good homes. I know I certainly did. My parents adored me, and I loved (still love?) them. They were a little weird sometimes, borderline objectifying me since I was a toddler and using religion to gaslight me into believing everything about our family situation was fine, but they also taught me about my culture, made me go to Chinese language school as a kid, and overall did their best. I’d like to think every kid, adopted or not, can say that about their parents. They did their best.

That said, this does not change the fact that they essentially bought me. This does not change the fact that I was forcibly separated from my home, my family, my culture. This does not change the fact that I have no official records and all but cease to exist until they got me. This does not change the fact that my birthday is a guess. This does not change the fact that they severed my tongue and stitched it back on, training it to speak their words, so that even after six years of Chinese school, I still cannot carry a conversation in what should be my natal tongue. That does not change the fact that I deliberately tried to lighten my skin with heavy makeup during the more cringe years of high school. That does not change the fact that my grandpa tried to molest me when I was eleven, and to this day, I am absolutely sure he never would’ve tried that shit with his blood grandchildren.

Their love and good intentions do change any of it.

So, I write whump to cope!

Please don’t feel sorry for me. I am not writing this for random internet strangers’ pity, I am just explaining rather graphically why I write the kind of whump that I write. Writing whump is cheaper than therapy. Exploring dark themes through fiction is a safe avenue for me to discover truths about myself that I did not even know before. And hopefully, my perspective may shed light on issues other adoptees may be facing that they did not have the words to express. And to those adoptees, I hear you, your feelings are valid, and my inbox is open if you want to talk. So, with that, I will conclude this essay, and promise you more good 32Whump content! Stay safe, yall!

[awritingotaku]

Me slapping the new Jason Todd X Reader I’m writing: This baby fit so much trauma and exploration of the affects of childhood neglect and abuse on the mind. Even got space to use Constantine in a short story as a foil to the reader.

[inkandarsenic]

I remember thinking once

That wine tasted like days I can’t quite remember

I’m stuck in the bittersweet haze of not wanting

To wake up with high hopes

Only to immediately crash when memory hits like a lightning strike

The clear edges of you begin to fade

And when I blink...

You’re gone like a rose-tinted fever dream

The time that froze when you were with me

Stutters for a beat and moves on

A constant march that catches my hands

And drags me along however unwillingly

When I turn back and try to find you

You’re still standing exactly where I left you

A perfect recall untouched by time

Raindrops frozen in place where they caught on your eyelashes

The same way they did the last time I saw you

When the light of a dying sun framed you in a golden halo

And turned your whiskey eyes to amber

I’m grasping at shadows

Trying desperately to hold on to you with hands like a sieve

Memories slipping through my fingers like sand

Loving you was an ephemeral experience

But impermanence doesn’t mean insignificance

And echoes of you splinter across my soul

All these fragments of myself don’t fit together without you

And I can’t make them into a cohesive unit

I’m still staring into a shattered mirror

Desperate for you to tell me you love me

Hoping that maybe if I sit alone in the shower long enough

I can drown my thoughts in something other than false emotions

And if I’m lucky

I’ll drown myself along with them

— sour grapes in the back of my throat

tagging @dipperscavern and @eldrith because they'd said they wanted to be tagged in my poem posts, but that was in the ask i sent dippy about asoiaf poems and this one is not asoiaf related so if you want me to not tag you jsut lemme know

[presiding]

shitposting about my fic. 4 outta 5 chapters live, final chapter up soon. read the ghost of the hound pits pub on ao3 thank you love you

[apathetic-kiss]

"yo why do you keep a journal?"

'i'm scared of dying and not leaving anything meaningful behind and i want my loved ones to be able to look back at my inner thoughts and understand me like they can't in my lifetime'

"lol memory loss"