#you can't judge me more than i judge myself

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #7260:

I hate how people get so upset when authors remove their fics rather than orphaning them and acting like the author was soooo selfish and that orphaning is the only right and justice choice for them to make, especially when the fic in question had a handful or even no comments.

Like, people share their fics for community and connection. I share my fics for community and connection. I will always write for myself, but I share them for the human connection. If there's no connection? Well, I'm not going to share then, and I sure as hell am not going to orphan because that's MY fic, MY hard work, why would I want to remove myself from it, to not be able to show it to others and say "hey look at this thing I made, what do you think?" just because a stranger who doesn't even have the guts to tell me they like it, likes it? And there's no such thing as an individual, so many other fic authors likely do/think the same.

"Oh, but you aren't entitled to comments!" You're right, but you also aren't entitled to millions of stories at the wonderful cost of $0.00 either. It isn't selfish for people to choose to not comment, but it also isn't selfish for authors to delete and/or abandon their fics when they get no comments.

"But what if that fic helped someone through a hard time? Saved their life?" Should've told the author that, can't blame the author for prioritizing their own mental health when they weren't even aware they were carrying the burden of a stranger's mental health too.

Writing is already so hard even if you're doing it for yourself. Sharing it is terrifying. Letting people, strangers even, know the things you like, your traumas, your mistakes? The only thing that makes sharing worth it is knowing that there are other people out there who like the same things, share your traumas, and won't judge you by your mistakes and that by sharing your stories, you can find them and even if it's just for a moment, just a single small interaction.

But if you can't find them? They don't let you know that—yes, we're alike! I like this too! I understand this character! I don't mind that you're imperfect, we're human!—Why keep sharing? Why leave all these painful pieces of yourself scattered about if you gain NOTHING from it? Why leave something that was meant to be a bridge of connection up, when it goes unwalked? It's an abandoned house, an unused lot, a corpse. Community interaction is the lifeblood of fic, and if the blood doesn't flow, it will be buried.

Yes, fandom may not cost money, but there needs to be an exchange if you want it to continue because fandom is and always will be a community, not just fics and art.

"But I'm scared to comment!" "I just want to lurk!" etc.

That's valid, but you can't complain when authors delete their fics, stop posting, and fandom begins to dwindle because all they received for their efforts and nakedness is silence. Kudos and likes will always be appreciated, but that's not connected, that is not community, and that's not what authors share and bare their hearts for. Of course, you can be upset when fics disappear and authors leave, but don't bitch if you know the reason why and could have helped prevent it. If you don't play your part in the community keep your mouth shut when it dies. Don't cry at the funeral a fandom you did nothing more but look at.

Let authors delete their fics and disappear in peace. They were shown how little the community valued them when they were left in silence, and no amount of complaints and cutesy positive posts are going to change that.

Deleting fic isn't evil. It's the acceptance that no matter how much you share, how much effort you give, the community doesn't care enough to even give you a single thumbs up and it's the action of parting ways with that community.

And asking those people who just want to leave and be left alone because the community was neglectful to keep sharing AND walk away if they don't like the silence by orphaning their fics instead of deleting them is so selfish. It's cruel to pressure them to keep their work up when they're ready to leave because YOU want to just take, take, take, and give not even a thanks in return.

I'm so sick of being treated like a monster when I post a fic, work it for months upon months, see the hit could rise higher and higher, and get not even a single person interacting but being treated like a selfish monster for deleting it when continuing to share it eventually became too painful.

"Oh, but write for yourself! You shouldn't write for the comments!" I write for myself, my Google Docs are full of dozens upon dozens of fics that I read and reread, laugh and cry at. But I only share for the comments/community, and well, the community decided that it doesn't want me and so I'm done sharing. I'm never sharing again when I'll just be fucking ignored. I'm done letting people call me and anyone else who has also decided they're done sharing selfish entitled pricks for just wanting to connect with others when they didn't give a damn dollar or even just a fucking smile emoji in return

[sofie-gold]

Hi internet- I'm a trans woman in Florida and I need help. I'm posting this across all my socials because I can't suffer in silence anymore.

I'm not a prisoner or a child, but i was still forcibly detransitioned by the State of Florida between 2022 and 2024. Planned Parenthood forced me off hormones in an act of anticipatory obediance to the trans healthcare ban that was eventually signed into law. I had been on HRT for ~5 years. I had fully socially transition and was passing- living my best life as a woman.

There was no place to go after Planned Parenthood dropped me. I spent over 2.5 years being forcibly detransitioned and I had no way to help myself. I lost my job. I lost my looks. I lost my VOICE. I'm looking for the words to describe the psychological and physical torture of having your body, identity and soul chemically excised from you but I don't think anyone but the trans community will ever really understand.

I'll try though: Imagine having to walk through liquid curtains of hydrochloric acid every day. And every day the acid gets more and more concentrated- but not only does the acid burn your skin and melt your face, it also seeps into your chakras and severs the links between your mind, body, and soul. Eventually leaving you an empty, disfigured husk- A revolting parody of the person you used to be.

In February 2024 I finally got in contact with a local lgbt charity hoping to get back on HRT but they weren't helpful. Mostly they just wanted to shame me for being unemployed. I want to say this plainly: Liberal institutions will not protect you from the law when they ban HRT. They wouldn't even give me the name of a clinic until a judge issued a stay of the healthcare ban. The ban was lifted for about 6 weeks and I was lucky enough to make the window, get a PCP, and get back on HRT.

To their credit, they did eventually get me in therapy and very quickly hit me with a suprise (well, not much of a surprise) autism diagnosis. I won't be naming them right now because I'm still a client, and that therapist is my only connection to the outside world right now.

There's so much more to this that I don't know how to narrativize yet. I was so poor in 2023 that I survived on less than 35¢ of food a day. I ate almost exclusively rolled oats and bagged sugar, averaging about 350 calories a day. I think I was well on my way to starving to death. By December I'd lost basically all my body fat, much of my of muscle mass and my bones were sticking out weird.

So, even though my situation is more stable, I'm still in a very precarious position. HRT is TIGHTLY controlled here. The max estrogen level you're allowed in Florida is a quarter of what I was on in Colorado, and that's just not enough to survive on.

I've managed to cheat my labs a little, so for now I've got my full dose. But once my current RX is up I'll be at risk of getting my HRT yanked because my estrogen levels are "too high". And I can't survive on a quarter dose. And I can't survive a 2nd round of detransition

Forced detransition has broken me at a fundamental level, and I don't know if I'll ever get the person I was before back. I just know I can't move forward until I get this story out.

If there's anyone out there who actually cares, please fucking help me. I live in Broward County and my partner and I have tentative plans to move to either Portland OR or Denver CO. I'm too damaged to work, and my partner's income is just enough to keep us treading water. We have basically no means to save for a move, so if you can help, or have any contacts in those areas of the country- please, I'm begging you, (yes, YOU, in particular) Get in touch. I'm sofiegold on bsky and sofie_gold on Discord or email me c4hsofie[at]gmail.com

I'm a software engineer (LAMP stack, c, c++) and Linux sysadmin for 10+ years so if there's anyone out there that can gently ease me back into gainful employment that would be amazing too.

For my old moots, gart.gg isn't dead. I just had to pause development while I tested the limits of human suffering. Also, I love you and miss you.

Finishing this with a message to my transgender peers: Let me be your cautionary tale. Do not let them take your HRT away. Do not let them abandon you and write you off as a casualty. Save yourself and stay on hormones by any means necessary.

This is our last chance, and we don't have a lot of time left. Organize your community right now. If you don't have a community find them. Right now. Go.

And i've got a gfm but i need PEOPLE more than i need money rn. but i also need money.

https://gofund.me/59ab04f0

[iinterstellars]

her words make him chuckle and at the same time he wonders... what is the image she has of him? as far as he can tell unlike him she DOES have high expectations of him. it should scare him, but it's surprising that it doesn't; the opposite happens, he can only hope he can be the man she thinks he is. " not judging anything, consider me... just another person right now; i know nothing about medicine and you're doing great, alright? hm, water does sound good right now though... " after it's mentioned he realizes he feels parched, his mouth slightly dry in a way that is not too comfortable. more than water though he definitely needs a drink, his mind momentarily wanders to the special moment they were having before; nice drinks, good conversation, he misses it suddenly. feels slightly annoyed with the world that it was RUINED by a group of misfits but it's all over now and it's not good to dwell on what's already come and gone. thomas can't help the half amused, half proud smirk that suddenly takes over his features at her authoritative tone; he finds that he LIKES this confidence in her, even if he can also see the faint blush of her cheeks. he does as he's told and presses the gauze against his head; noting that she must have been trying her best to be extremely gentle with him since as soon as his hand replaces her it sends a very short pang of pain. " yeah, blood flow slowing down is good... don't worry about stitches; i wouldn't be surprised if the wound is smaller than you think and i can do them on myself if i really need them. " it was a bit awkward to unbutton his shirt with one hand but he manages to do it nonetheless. he does consider standing up and decides against it a little too fast when he realizes defne is still kneeling down in front of him and the mental images it would give him are something he's NOT mentally ready for at this point in time. instead he sits up straight, or as much as he can, and opens up the shirt enough for her to examine the golf ball sized bruise at one side of his rib cage. he has to admit he feels a little bit awkward, which is why he doesn't completely dispose of the shirt and tries to focus on something else. " i guess, but shock is very easy to notice... and i'm not so there's nothing else to worry about, ok? " it's as reassuring as he can be considering he's bruised up and bleeding but he's genuinely trying his best. thomas doesn't know how else to convey that he will be fine, it's not like he's gonna disintegrate into nothing right before her very eyes... but then again, he would probably feel just as panicked if the roles were reversed ( and if only he had it in mind to dig a little deeper he'd realize the meaning behind it all but... he's not the most introspective ). " maybe i did... " he agrees in a sigh, though he doesn't actually mean it in the way she thinks. it's just the realization that... he cares about her too much, and wanting to voice it is uncharted territory.

" i've heard it , i just expected you to be different . are you judging my hands ? my handiwork ? you can be honest . " she likes that he's teasing her back , is pretty sure that means he probably isn't ( she hopes ) delirious . although the smile on his face does look a bit too relaxed and his eyes keep glazing over . OK , MAYBE HE'S A BIT DELIRIOUS . " i should get you water . keep your fluids up . " she's talking to herself aloud , but as a way to keep thomas in check and awake , and to also make sure he agrees with her movements . PLEASE DON'T PASS OUT ON ME , defne silently begs once again . she turns away again , gestures to one of the guards by the door for a glass of water . he looks to thomas , then to defne , but nods . ok . one less thing for her to worry over . as she pressed the gauze to him , she's startled by how conscious he seems . he barely bats an eye . " now you're showing off . " defne breathes out , because of course thomas is this force of fucking nature . this strong , steady man . this man who can look at anything , in the face of nature , guns , fighting , EVERYTHING , and still be reliable . he's too good . people who are too good are dangerous . they're easy to love . they're easy to want to have only the best for . THEY'RE THE WORST PEOPLE TO LOSE . but no , again , she can't think of that . there is no losing thomas here .

her eyes scan over his , checking to see how awake he seems with the gauze to his head . she lifts her hand with the gauze experimentally , and exhales in relief . " the blood's slowing down . . . that's good , right ? " she can never remember which way is better , but head wounds . . . less blood . that has to be good , right ? DEFNE SWALLOWS , bites into her bottom lip as he compliments her . any other time and she'd be carrying this all the way to bed with her , but she can't even properly focus on his words , because she needs to make sure he's alive and ok and STAY THAT WAY . defne reaches behind , half - blind . she rummages through the kit , still pressing onto thomas' head , before finding some bandages . she pauses . " i . . . thomas . . i don't know if i can do stitches . " she can't tell if he needs them , but remembers his words before . FUCK . stitches . on his head . she feels slightly woozy at the mere idea . defne blinks . " keep this held to your head . stand up . shirt off . " she busies herself with that instead , wondering who she is . she doesn't even sound like herself . she almost sounds professional , like this could be her job. SHE'S ONLY AS GOOD AS HER TEACHER . her cheeks still colour , though , trying not to focus on the fact that he'll HAVE his shirt off . stay professional . stay professional .

defne exhales with relief when thomas corrects himself . she doesn't like this story . doesn't like that he was hurt by anyone . she winces at his mention of the other man . she can only see dark , blurry , over-impeding figures crowding thomas . she pushes the vision right out of her mind . " but sometimes you don't feel pain anywhere else because you're in shock , right ? " defne says , slight panic inflecting into her voice . her eyes roam to meet his , just as his hand goes from his hair to hers . she can't quite feel it , as it's just strands of her hair , too light to really relish into . but she knows the motion . she knows he's tucking some of it back . her mouth opens , but no words come out . her eyes stay on his , finding herself exhaling at the same time he's inhaling . they're literally breathing each other's air . she isn't sure if the moment goes for seconds or hours . a small , sad smile nudges it's way onto her lips as he speaks . of course he's glad to see her not hurt , that'd mean more work for him right now . but his next words . . . they make defne blink , wide and big , at him . " god , thomas . . you must have really hit your head quite hard. " she breathes out , almost in awe of it . she wishes she could take this more seriously , not deflect . but she's used to being the one always reaching out with her hand . she's not used to thomas being so earnest and open . she doesn't know what to do with it . it makes her skin feel hot and tight . she's pretty sure she's never felt this way about anyone else in her entire life .

[xonceinadream]

My 16 year old sister and I played Glee FMK and she guessed my fuck easy, my first thought marry before I changed my mind, and knew who I wanted to kill because I changed my answer to hers after I said it. I guessed all three of hers.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[theflyingfeeling]

yes it's just me whining about the same thing for the billionth time, pls just scroll past nothing new to see here 👋

[mechanical-sunchild]

I want to start by saying that this is just my own opinion, I am not an authority in any way. I also do not say what I'm about to say to tell you off or 'hate on you' in any capacity. I can only say how this came off to me, and go from there. There is an tl;dr at the end if you only want to see the advice and not the whole breakdown of why I give it. Context: I may have multiple 'types, but when it comes to my involuntary fictomere, I am extremely serious and have been awakened this way for almost ten years now. I am very serious about every aspect of myself, especially this one and identify as physically nonhuman/holothere. I continuously take steps to live as myself physically including having changed my name to the 'right' one - as you describe - so I believe I am possibly the target for your term and thus I decided to comment.

I love the time and effort you have put into this, much more than I have done with any of the soft terms I have coined (though only theriform ever took off I think) and I can tell that finding a word for those in your situation is very important to you.

I'm not sure jumping away to a new term instead of addressing community issues is exactly the right way to go about handling dissatisfaction with your communities. Especially when it is impossible to make sure that the behaviour won't simply start again in the new community.

I do think a term like thespiad could exist though, if only in the hopes of creating a smaller nicher community under the 'fictionfolk/fictionkin' umbrella with more singular experiences and wants/needs for their identity. I'm just not sure if this is the term as it stands now, of if perhaps it needs some tweaks first.

My main issue therefore has nothing to do with the word itself but with your motivation, or at least the way you have phrased your motivation.

I know a fair few that use the fictionkin label (whether they like it or not) who are as serious as you about who they are, and about living in as much as possible, the life of their true self.

"[...] it is often now associated with fandom culture and the 'voluntary' exploration of new identities."

I also know many who seem to me to take on new fictional identities rapidly and without thought and though it's easy for me to wonder if they're actually constelic, or otherlinking, or jumping onto fictionflickers and calling it fictionkin which they should not be - I only see the online side. I don't see the internal side, and I can't tell how deeply they feel their identity, or how long they've been considering it. I don't know how long they spend offline thinking about their fictotype.

We can't judge whether this is voluntary or involuntary from a snapshot of this persons journey as they decide to show it to us.

"The community no longer fully captures the complex experiences of those of us who view our fictional identities as intrinsic rather than chosen."

Are you talking about 'Kin For Fun' here? This is one of the issues which needs to be addressed and our words reclaimed instead of throwing baby out with the bathwater. If you are referring to those who don't seem to be 'as serious' as you and therefore can make the identity and concept feel 'watered down' to you, see my above paragraph about you/us not really knowing what's going on for them including whether it is voluntary. Most fictionkin I talk to and see do not think their identity is chosen - which is within definition of the term - so I'm really not sure which circles you are in but perhaps you should get out of them.

"The current community primarily emphasizes exploration and acquisition of new fictional identities, much more than the further development and understanding of existing ones."

Again, you have no idea how much these people are pouring into each and every new 'type they present. You are unfortunately coming off as judgemental towards those with multiple 'types too, simply because you dislike the way they talk about their newly awakened 'types. I have multiple 'types, not all fictional, but I am also very serious about my fictotype as mentioned above. Where do I fall?

I get the need to find people to have deeper talks with. I would like to do the same. You are not wrong for being keenly interested in not just figuring out 'who' but 'why' and 'how' and 'what does this mean?'. I want to express that clearly. I just think you have quickly chosen to judge the behaviours of other fictionfolk for experiencing themselves differently to you, or supposedly different, and therefore have assumed the whole lot who use the term 'fictionkin' are hopelessly unserious and have corrupted the community somehow. I frame it this way because you present your opinions as 'fact' about the community by the plain way you state it.

The way to encourage the development and understanding of existing fictotypes in the community is to talk about yours in ways that encourage others to talk about theirs in similar ways and create spaces where this is not see as 'spamming' or 'boring'. Online interactions generally favour quick, witty, funny, relatable comments over deeper talks so many fictionkin will prioritise these interactions which get them attention over other things they might genuinely want to do but fear nobody will care about or judge for. That bothers me too, but it's not a fictionkin issue, and needs to be addressed not avoided.

"My fictotype expands beyond just online expression and would exist regardless as to my involvement in the community."

This is true of the vast majority of those who use the term fictionkin whilst genuinely understanding what experiences it is meant to convey (i.e. are not KFF).

"For those who involuntarily identify as fictional characters and have a desire to live them out physically, I believe we deserve our own distinct community. The fictionkin community faces challenges in being taken seriously, both internally and externally, and it is crucial that we begin to assert our identities with the seriousness it deserves."

Yes, we do struggle to be taken seriously, and we do need to assert our identities as crucially serious - by dispelling misinformation about what fictionkin means and how it presents as an identity. I really don't think that simply adding a new term to the vast amount out there is going to result in us being taken more seriously, it just gives up the fight for the word fictionkin in a sense. But also from your above comments I once again fear that what you mean by this is that you're casting a darkened eye towards those you are simply assuming are not as serious as you because they express themselves differently to you.

If this is intended for a term used by physical fictionfolk, then perhaps just say that (as you later do) without all of this part about fictionkin. That at least is an identifiable distinction from the broader fictionkin which does not require physical identification and needs, just an internal sense of identity. It feels though like we're having two talks here, one about wanting a identity for more physically identifying fictionfolk and another where we just take little bashes at the fictionkin community for seeming to behave in a way we dislike.

I'm also not sure if the prefix is the best chosen, although I actually adore how the whole word sounds if I'm honest - simply because of it's association with acting. You probably don't want people being pedantic about it like some are with 'kin means family!!' and say that well since it's related to acting, that means you are acting/roleplaying. Same with the symbol which although cool, is associated with simply playing a role.

tl;dr If you are to coin this term officially, consider the association with acting as a word origin and symbol might give the impression that this is a term for those who are acting/roleplaying an identity. Also, regardless of your internal reasoning, remove all mentions of fictionkin from the definition/information related to the term as it comes off as more you expressing a personal negative opinion of the community rather than relevant to the term at hand. The only part you might need to keep in, for context, is

"In contrast to the broader Fictionkin label, “Thespiad” emphasizes the desire for active transformation and alignment with one’s fictional self physically."

As this one does clarify why and how it is different from fictionkin without looking down on the term in fictionkin or those who have a community around it in any way.

“Thespiad”: Proposing a New Term for Fictionkin Who Involuntarily Identify as Fictional Characters (Under Discussion...)

This proposal contains extensive research and thoughts that I have spent considerable time processing and organizing. It is still in the early stages despite hours poured in, and I am finally opening it up for public feedback. I value your perspectives, as they will help me identify areas I may have overlooked while developing this terminology. If you have suggestions for a more fitting term or wish to share your own experiences, please feel free to contact me.

Purpose

While the term “Fictionkin” is predominately used, it is often now associated with fandom culture and the 'voluntary' exploration of new identities. The community no longer fully captures the complex experiences of those of us who view our fictional identities as intrinsic rather than chosen.

The current community primarily emphasizes exploration and acquisition of new fictional identities, much more than the further development and understanding of existing ones. As a result, I have struggled to find a sense of belonging within community spaces in recent years as I actively seek to express my fictotype in my daily life as that is who I am. My fictotype expands beyond just online expression and would exist regardless as to my involvement in the community.

For those who involuntarily identify as fictional characters and have a desire to live them out physically, I believe we deserve our own distinct community. The fictionkin community faces challenges in being taken seriously, both internally and externally, and it is crucial that we begin to assert our identities with the seriousness it deserves.

The “New Term”: Thespiad (Θεσπιάδης)

Pronunciation: /THES·PI·AD/ Etymology: The prefix "Thes-" is derived from Thespis, the ancient Greek actor who is often credited as the first person to perform as an actor in the context of Greek theater. The suffix "-iad" is a classical suffix used to denote a group of people with shared characteristics or traits.

Usage:

Thespiad: A person who involuntarily identifies as a fictional character and actively desires to express it.

Thespic: An adjective to describe traits or actions related to being a Thespiad.

Thesp/Thespiotype: A specific fictional character that an individual identifies with (e.g., Pikachu from Pokémon).

Thespiades: Plural form of Thespiad.

This term, though rooted in the Greek language, is not synonymous with the modern term “Thespian” (actor), which has become more generalized.

Who This Term Is For?

The term “Thespiad” is intended for those who experience an involuntary identification as a fictional character; When you are a Thespiad you identify 'as' that character. This distinction is critical: it is not merely an identification or connection with a character, but a deeply felt, intrinsic sense of self. In contrast to the broader Fictionkin label, “Thespiad” emphasizes the desire for active transformation and alignment with one’s fictional self physically.

This can involve actions such as changing one's name, relocating to a place reminiscent of your source's setting/location, or altering one's appearance to match that of the fictional character. These practices reflect an attempt to embody the fictional identity in real life.

The Process of Development

In developing a new term, I explored various linguistic roots from Latin, Greek, and Old English. However, many of the terms I curated with this method were too vague or didn't come across as practical. These terms didn't feel inclusive and seemed shaky in definition.

So, I turned to researching about historical people who showcased a similar nature to that of fictionkin (though maybe not exactly) or significantly influenced the storytelling we create and consume today.

Historical Origins

Thespis (Θέσπις) could provide a meaningful historical precedent for this term. Often considered the first actor in the context of Greek theater, Thespis revolutionized storytelling by stepping out of the chorus to portray individual roles, thus creating the idea of the actor as someone who "becomes" the character they portray. His contributions laid the groundwork for modern theater, in which performers transform themselves into characters, not merely to portray them but to bring life to them.

This historical figure could serve as a metaphor for our experiences as Thespiades—individuals who identify with fictional characters not as an act of fan admiration, but as a form of personal and transformative expression.

Metafiction and Fictional Identity

Fictionkin identities often intersect with the concept of metafiction, which explores the boundary between fiction and reality. For Thespiades, the experience of identifying with a fictional character is not purely imaginative but is an essential part of our reality. By acknowledging the gap between the real and the fictional, we can better understand the nuances of this identity. This intersection underscores the need for a term that encompasses the lived reality of these individuals—one that acknowledges both the fictional nature of the identity and its deep roots in personal experience.

Our Symbol: The Drama Masks 🎭

As part of this proposal, I suggest adopting the drama masks—symbols of comedy and tragedy—as a unifying emblem for the Thespiad identity. These masks have long been associated with theater, transformation, and self-expression, making them an apt symbol for those who seek to align their real-world selves with their fictional counterparts. Just as these masks convey the performative nature of theater, they also reflect the process of self-discovery and transformation that many Thespiades undergo.

If you find that this new terminology resonates with your experience, I would greatly appreciate your feedback. Similarly, if it does not fully align with your perspective, I welcome your input as well. Please note that this post is still a work in progress, and I will continue to refine and update it over time. Thank you for taking the time to read and engage with this content.

[kittlyns]

It turns out that when you were a kid and you felt like the odd man out literally everywhere you went and you thought it would never change - even when the adults around you tell you that someday the right people will come along and fix that - you were actually right all along. It doesn't ever change and no one fixes it. You're out of place everywhere you go and being kind and vulnerable will not make them welcome you.

[ladyhavilliard]

tfw you realize you are aroace, but you're also a hopless romantic, so you decide you might be cupioromantic and would still want to be in a relationship even though you don't feel romantic or sexual attraction until someone texts you and suggests they might have some interest in you and suddenly you go into panic mode because the idea of anyone seeing you in any kind of non-platonic way makes you incredibly uncomfortable, especially if they don't know you well

[the-acid-pear]

I have yet to keep inspecting the sweepstakes, I need some air and food first, but I might as well share what I've been thinking about Mike today, because I heard of an interpretation saying Mike was a camera man for Spamton which ... Is very interesting. Like for me this makes me think of Mike as someone who admired Spamton, someone way smaller than him, definitely younger imo, who simply excitedly followed along with the orders given. I mean, up to a certain point. I mean this feeling is reinforced in the q&a when asked about Mike, that makes Spamton get very defensive, almost protective. In my eyes it almost creates this almost platonic familiar bond dynamic whatever. But like this is just a shot in the dark, bc what we know is, 3 lines, period. But if when chapter 3, 4 and 5 come out and Mike is there and I'm right about these things then I'm gonna feel like a god tbh.

[featherymainffins]

I thought I would walk some additional 14 km today and thus burn my accidental lunch (caved into peer pressure and went to a restaurant and had a salad instead of eating my perfectly counted can of tuna) and as such I agreed to go have breakfast with some friends tomorrow to celebrate the end of the excursion.

But I did not walk those 14 km because I wasn't able to get water + I just finished 12 hours of lectures + my arches were killing me + it was raining + I wanted to shower + I wanted to study + I was fucking freezing.

Which means I have to punish myself for my lack of discipline and I also have to make up for the food and that means I CANNOT have that breakfast. In fact I cannot have anything. For 2 days. Just to be sure.

So now I'm trying to figure out what lie I can make up. Currently thinking about saying that I just started to feel really nauseous all of a sudden and as such I unfortunately cannot eat breakfast oopsie. It feels really random and not really believable though.

[catcatb0y]

"Sorry for disappointing you" is such a slippery sentence sometimes and I get that the gut reaction is 'You didn't disappoint me', but what if I wanted you to be a little disappointed?

[nosferatini]

About what's going on with Neil

This is going to be a little longwinded, but I'm a writer, so you should expect that. Try to read through all of it before you for opinions. You need a whole picture to do that — in fact, that's the point of what I have to say.

I have seen this one article at the moment. Just this one so far. I don't trust the media, I can't trust the media (can anyone these days?); so as much as I would love to either be able to support one side or the other and have closure on the matter, I cant. And that's okay.

(Yes, it actually is)

I know you can't judge people by their internet presence or by their works so I'm not going to pretend that's enough to form a valid positive opinion of Neil, but I do need more than one valid source before I upheave my personal feelings. And it won't cause me to uproot myself from my fandom.

I'm writing this because I'd like everyone to do the same, if you can. Take a breath. Let things become clearer before you form an opinion of either side of the situation.

For the Good Omens fandom specifically, keep doing what you do. From what I've seen we have a generally wholesome fandom, and I don't think this news has any bearing on any of us, or anything we do. We can keep being creative. We can keep loving the story and it's characters. We can keep going.

Please don't fall apart. Take care of yourselves and be kind to each other. That's all.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"Who is this Karen?"

Preview: How the boys react to a Karen lashing out at you?

Warnings: Slightly longer read than usual, but you get to see how they talk smack to a Karen for disrespecting you :>

ZAYNE

You stood in line, awaiting for your turn to get into the popular restaurant that you and Zayne were planning to try out. Zayne had dropped you off in order to search for a parking spot, claiming that it is way more efficient for one to just wait in line. Right when it was about to be your turn, you stood up, smoothing your skirt and stepped up towards the reception table but someone had beat you to it, pushing you physically to get you out of their way, risking you nearly stumbling. "Hey." You reprimanded the lady in the big red coat, her head tilting towards you with a scrunched up frown on her face. "You can't just do that, you have to line up according to your turn."

The lady scoffed and simply waved her hand off, mocking you in a tone you had never heard from anyone in your life. "Apparently you do not know that this restaurant runs on a star rating don't you darling? First-comers like you should shut up and wait while VIPs like me deserve to be tended to first." You were in a state of disbelief, slack-jawed, fists tightened, ready to mutter a string of colourful curse words in front of this lady before a hand gripped onto your shoulders and you turned.

Zayne stood next to you, assessing the situation that he had spotted from afar as he was coming closer to the restaurant. "Are you alright?" He glanced down towards your legs, to spot for any injury but when he noticed nothing stood out, he rubbed your back as a comforting gesture before he stepped forth towards the woman. "Excuse me." He stated and the lady turned, with the same expression as the first time. "I believe you have to be in line. It wasn't right for you to push someone just to get in front of the line."

"You are not the restaurant owner, talk to me again and I will call the police." Her voice was up an octave now, clearly offended at the both of you calling her out on her mistakes. "This is a restaurant that runs on point systems! Do your research before coming onto me you brats!" Zayne seemed indifferent towards her, she is just like another patient of his that may be suffering a psychotic episode amidst treatment. It is no stranger to a doctor of his calliber.

"Scream much more, and you will get wrinkles on your face." Zayne drew air signs, marking out the spots on her face. His tone was collected, informative even. "Your lips are peeling and your skin is sagging on the edge of your jaw. If I were you, I would get myself checked out for any cardiac anomalies." His statement made the lady gasped in horror, hands immediately flying up to touch her cheeks. Zayne only took his phone out and showing her his medical ID. "Just some words of advice from a fellow cardiac surgeon. You should not delay any further, I think your heart requires immediate attention." He quirked an eyebrow and watched as the lady panicked, albeit judging him silently under her breath and stepping off to get back into her car (that was parked illegally by the street) to leave.

With the lady leaving, the both of you managed to secure your seats fairly quickly. Walking into the restaurant, you turned to ask Zayne about the diagnosis earlier on and he replied with a soft chuckle. "It works once you flash them the ID." He pulled out the chair for you as he always would, waiting for you to be seated before he continues, seating himself down. "No harm in fighting stupidity with stupidity."

RAFAYEL

"So, today we will be going to this beach that I had always been talking about. Are you excited?" Rafayel turned his head over to you when he is at a red light, smiling at you and taking your smaller hand into his. He placed a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand and proceeded to rev his engine when the lights turned green. The date had been planned for more than a week as Rafayel was busy with exhibitions and you too, with your own work. Hence, when the time comes for the both of you to meet, it is only natural for your boyfriend to plan for a romantic getaway.

Approaching the beach, you could taste the brine in the air when Rafayel had opened the roof on his convertible to let you get a better view of the ocean. The seas are mimicking the skies, one owning dashes of sparkles while the other has fluffy cotton balls hung on them, both adding up to be a picturesque scene. It was a right choice for Rafayel to make judging by how enamoured you are with the scene ahead of you. He revved into a driveway and parked right next a red sedan, alerting the lady next to them. "Who do you think you are?" She immediately questioning, sunglasses pushed up onto the top of her head when she squinted her eyes to get a better view of the both of you. "You are going to hit my car!"

Rafayel nonchalantly got out of the car, hands thrown up in an act of surrender. "Lady, calm down. We mean no harm." He then sauntered over to your side to open your side of the door, holding his hand out for you to take, all while still trying to hold a reasonable conversation with the lady who had not stopped accusing him of wanting to hit her car. "As I've said lady, I do not have the wish to hurt anyone. I apologise if my skills scared you." Due to his indifference, it only got the Karen riled up, stomping out of her car and coming right up to both of you. Rafayel instinctively shielded you, his height still towered over the woman.

"THIS IS MY BEACH AND YOU DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO TRESSPASS, YOU HEAR ME YOUNG MAN?!" She angrily pointed a finger at him, her bikini suggested she is here for the beach as well. "So it is either you both get the hell out of here, or I am calling the cops." Grabbing her phone out of her small clutch, she begin dialing the number on it and pressing it to her ear. You looked towards Rafayel with a worried expression, but he only held a smirk as he listened in on her conversation. "Yes! This man with a convertible is trying to kill me in a crash--yeah, okay you talk to him!"

Then she handed her phone over to Rafayel, which he took into his hands and pressed it against his ear. For a man who seemingly 'broke-the-law', Rafayel is not taunted. "Hey there, yeah. Yeah that's me. Yeah, she is claiming that this beach belongs to her." His eyes glinted a hint of playfulness, smile widening at the Karen. "Can I report this for tresspassing or...okay, yeah, I'll call you back if she starts anything on MY BEACH." Specifically emphasising his words, the woman choked onto her breath, looking at Rafayel as he gave her back her phone and tilting his head, still smiling. "A word of advice, next time, if you're gonna play with fire, just be ready to get burned, yeah?"

SYLUS

Sylus would rather be surrounded by thousands of the strongest wanderers now than to be in the grocery store with you right now. This burly, manly man does not see himself to be a fitting piece of a puzzle within a grocery store. Everywhere his eyes darted, he catches sight of men with beer bellies pushing carts with babies while referring to a long, floor-panning grocery list, or a mother who has too many children to provide welfare for, or maybe a family where most of the time the wife is the ruler of the house. No, Sylus is not a sexist, he just holds too much of an ego for his masculinity that he feels like he does not belong in a grocery store. Staring down at you, he sighed inwardly. Regardless of what he had thought of, what he held as a belief, here he is still, nothing different than those wife-pleasers he witnessed littered all over the store.

“How long are we going to be here for?” He groaned, holding up the basket slightly higher when you had gotten your pick of the better watermelon. “N109 does not run by itself given its current glory you know.” His mockery only got you rolling your eyes at him. You would admit, he is a scary man for the eyes, but once you had gotten to know him, gosh, this man would bow to puppy eyes and wheedling words. Feeling your throat getting scratchy again, you pointed at the vitamin water that was placed in the basket and Sylus cracked open the cap then handed it to you. You gulped the drink down your throat, trying to gain moisture to rid it of the scratchy feeling before you felt someone tapped on your shoulder and you turned around.

The lady who tapped your shoulder was skinny, body the shape of a trunk and with hair so blossoming that Sylus may have outwardly mocked her to be a tree. But the man does watch his mouth whenever he is around you. “Young lady, you can’t drink from the bottle like that without paying for it! That is called stealing!” Her loud exclamation got some people turning their heads and you could feel the embarrassment crawling up your back. You fumbled with the cap and was about to say sorry before your boyfriend took up the space next to you, his 6”2’ height made the woman looked like a garden gnome, with weird tree-like hair.

“Why can’t she? She is paying for it afterall.” The corners of his lips curled up, but it resembled an amused smirk rather than a smile as he watched the lady below him started to act out. If he were to be alone right now, there is no doubt that this woman would perish before she could utter another word. But, as what he had always believed in, violence is only to be utilised strategically. And using it on this lady, in front of you, in a public area, would result in serious consequences, so he decided not to. But, this does not mean he would back down either.

“You are supposed to buy things before you consume them. Don’t you know how the law works?” The lady was clearly pissed, voice raising even higher to create a scene. “I am going to call the store manager on you to get you and your girlfriend reported for stealing!” At this rate, she would only cause more trouble than necessary. Sylus simply clicked his tongue with a ‘tch’ and he tilted his head slightly, his right eye taking colour of a bright scarlet. Then, you watch as the woman in front of you tripped over nothing and she fell face-first. You gasped, wanting to go forward to help her but an unseeable force held you back and it got you figuring out the cause of her trip. Sylus was using his energy manipulation skills to get her to practically trip on air.

“Let’s go.” Without wasting anymore time, he grabbed onto your hand, his smirk widening as he lead you to walk through the aisles to get to the counter to check out your items. When he was confronted with why he did that, the confident man simply quirked up one of his thick eyebrow and retaliated. “You think I would back down easily if anyone comes at you like that princess? I would downplay the act of punishment for your sake, but I won't stay idle like a trophy husband sweetie.”

XAVIER

Xavier had came up with the idea to bring you along for some clothes shopping for the upcoming team building event which involves a masquerade ball. A couple of days ago, he had to sit through hours of you sifting through your closet, looking for any gowns that could be reused for the second time until you reached the realisation that you do not own a gown because 1) it’s not practical and 2) it’s a huge waste of money and 3) it does not fit your usual aesthetic for clothings.

"How about this one?" Xavier asked when he pointed at a store with ball gowns being displayed at their windows. Observing your hesitation to step into the store, he grabbed onto your hand and started leading you towards it. The pull was a bit of a drag however as you were stumping your feet onto the ground from wanting to enter such a boujee store. God knows how much those dresses would cost. "It's alright y/n, I will pay for it okay? You don't have to fret about a gown for days. Come on."

After getting assisted by the salesperson, you had managed to pick out a few outfits and you slotted yourself into one of the fitting booths to try them on. At the meantime, Xavier sat on the bench outside, scrolling through his phone mindlessly while he waited for you. He noticed a shadow loomed over him and he looked up, seeing a lady in her mid-40s looking down at him. "Is someone in the fitting booth?" Xavier nodded his head in return, stating that his girlfriend is inside. "Can you ask her to hurry up a little? I am pressed for time and I need to try on this outfit."

"Guess you will have to wait till she is done. She is only at her first dress." Xavier spoke calmly, already sensing discomfort from the way the lady had spoken to him. The curtain to the fitting booth then slid opened and you stepped out, adorning a blue sequin dress that matches the shade of Xavier's irises and he smiled in return, standing up and blatantly ignoring the lady as he walked up to you, gesturing his finger for you to turn and to show him the full outfit.

It was a sweet moment until you were interrupted. "Can you hurry up missy? I am in a rush and I need to try this on." She held up a dress in her hand, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "FYI, this dress does not fit you, you look fat in it." Your eyes were widened immediately when the lady mocked you. When you turned to Xavier, he too, bear the same expression as you but he was quick to recover.

"I don't think that is a nice thing to say when you should be the one to look at yourself in the mirror." His jab at the lady made her face immediately turned red, all adrenaline rushing towards her head. Xavier crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head while sighing. "I guess there is no need for you to try on that dress of yours, because I'm pretty sure it won't fit you."

And the next thing you know, the lady was rambling, shouting towards the employees for being mistreated but here you stood, next to Xavier, who is not one bit phased by her behaviour. Your boyfriend only watches the show unfold in front of him, and pats the top of your head, smiling at you. “She started it first, I figured if it wasn’t for her, I would have fell asleep waiting for you to be done with your fittings.” And you gave him a hard punch against his shoulder.

[totaltrashmammall]

They say the morning sickness is supposed to let up by the 2nd trimester but I yaked 4 times today so I'm not feeling the "letting up" you know?

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

✧✦✧ Chapter 4 ✧✦✧

Oh Love, Why can't I See You?

Yandere Platonic Bat Family x Neglected Regressing GN Reader

Warning this part contains: Blood, Biting, Fighting&Yelling, Batman beating the shit out of people and Joker, almost drowning, usage of Lazarus pit and Mental breakdown.

Notes: Bruce's POV HA! I hope I did him justice and not too OOC, I notice a lack of actual Yandere themes on this fic from the family so I started with the patriach first because why not?

MASTERLIST Pages ↻3 , 5...➣

Now Playing ↻◁ ||▷↺ Underground - Cody Fry ılıılıılılılıılıılı

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

It's weird

I see her face again, but not on her; I see it on her child's face. If I met her when she was young, their chubby and plump cheeks would look like hers, and their small stature would be strong and fierce, just like hers, if I remember correctly.

and yet why-?

Why do I see myself in her eyes? tired and exhausted, burnt out even? feeling like the world has already killed you from the inside and only your body can be seen by people who would never look past your walls?

Why do you look so much like me?

I stare at them as they tense up behind Alfred's legs after they told me their name, they were scared yes but I could see their anger behind those eyes, hatred and hateful like the boiling pits of lava, Scalding to touch by anyone and ready to erupt any day something that I couldn't stop if it were to happen.

As I watch them walk away from me and hide, I turn to Alfred and talk to him about last night. Unconsciously, something in my mind is already forgetting about them.

I haven't even known you that long, yet I'm already guilty of choosing a whole city over you.

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

It was a rough and tough night in Gotham, I was new and the evil I've been fighting has been longer than me.

Groaning I limp out of my office and head to my father's medical room when I stumble and crash on the floor, wincing I hold my side from the gunshot in one of the fights tonight, Eyes turning blurry as the air in my lungs get scarce as well as my body who beg for a rest, I can only hear my heartbeat and rushing of my blood on my ears as I lay on the carpet floor bleeding heavily until-

A tiny pair of footsteps reverberate on the floor, thudding slowly until they stop and shuffle in front of me, opening my eyes and look up to see the child looking down at me, they tilt their tiny head before turning on the side as they open their mouth like they're talking to somebody.

"...........do I-?.......... won't matter-...............never remember anyway". Their voice were all over the place as they conversed alone then their eyes turned back to me, they stared deeply through my soul, Judging me and criticizing me with just one look, Something a child shouldn't have, and yet this one was more mature, Like me- funny how they look like an exact replica of when I was just a boy, Who would have thought that there's another kid like me laying around, having the exact pain and trauma I've endured.

I feel my body get dragged on the floor as I hear their grunts and pants from pulling my cape turning, I see their face, even with frustration written on them I can still see a sliver of a child peeking through behind their cold and quiet front betrayed by their tiny pout and small huffs, never notice that before- why did I never try to notice you before?

Blinking back from the darkness, I suddenly found myself staring up at the ceiling with the familiar warm lighting from my father's old fireplace illuminating the design carved on it- Mother loved it and Father wanted her to feel welcome when she stayed on the couches reading books with me as we wait for him to finish his paperwork.

I grunt in pain when I felt something touch my side, Looking down a pair of small hands was wrapping my abdomen with a roll of gauze, They stop and look up at me, A look of indifference on their face before looking back down again and continued on before cutting the wrap and finished.

"....You.....when did you-". I tried to talk but they just looked at me making me quiet.

"..... It's best if you just stayed quiet and rest Mr. Wayne... You won't be of use when you're....." Their eyes traveled on my wounds and shots that were perfectly clean and wrapped before continuing.

".....Dead". They hummed making me tense from their choice of words before walking away as I watched them clean up the medical tray and any bloody equipment and put away saline solutions and gauze back.

My brows frowned when their words came back into my head, I touched my face not feeling the familiar texture of the cowl on my face making my eyes slightly widen and I stared at the back of their head.

-Why do I feel less scared on the thought of you knowing my identity was revealed?.

Why do I feel hurt when you won't call me Fa-.

Hearing a clutter I turn and see them adding more wood to the fireplace and poking the embers with a fire poker before putting it away and turning to me.

Both of us stare at each other, the fire behind them grows larger as their shadow grew and cast over me while their eyes seem to glow and light up with a roaring fire, a child too small and vulnerable to face the world and the evil within this city and yet they looked more than ready to burn this city to the ground and eradicate the devil's weed growing on the cracks of broken concretes of the people, something Batman has yet to do, something I can never do.

"Goodnight, Mr. Wayne". They said before walking out and closing the door behind them with a soft thud.

I look at the wooden fixture and become surprised when I see my good arm thoughtlessly reaching out for them.

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

A few more months have passed since they started living here and I find myself paying attention or moving my sights over them more and more, how they walk so silently that you can't even hear it until you finally spot them when they practically stand out in the open, They even blend perfectly anywhere like they don't want people to see or even look at them and how their voice is always on that same lower volume where you can hear them perfectly but thought it was just the wind whispering something.

But I do, I always knew, it was like seeing gold shining around their form, and anything they did it's like everything was duller except them, I even took note of little things like the twitch on their lips when something annoyed them or a raise of their brow when they're interested.

So why do you look so angry when I just want to give you attention?

"No I don't want a debut, Mr. Wayne". They replied with a glare as they sat on the other side of the table barely eating the dinner Alfred made when I asked them to join me.

I was baffled and slightly vexed at their choice and the way they didn't even take the time to think about it, or maybe it's because you still kept looking at me with that-.

"No? What do you mean no? It's only right for you as a Wayne to debut especially for your birth-". I insisted but they cut me off by slamming their hands on the hardwood surface of the table, The dishes jumped, and the pitcher of water almost tipped over from the force while my glass of wine tumbled on the side and spilled the contents.

"I said No! I don't want anything, especially from you-!". They send me a hateful look pointing a finger at me.

"And don't you ever use my birthday on anything!". They shouted before pushing back their chair and walking away, Everything was moving so fast, I could hear my heartbeat pumping harder as my breathing became heavier and faster before I knew it I was already out of my chair as my hand was just reaching for them then gripped their arm tightly.

"Where do you think you're going? This conversation isn't over". I snap as I tug them harder, They look at me in surprise as I saw fear peeking in their irises before hiding it back and hardening their eyes as they pry off my fingers from their arm.

"Yes, it is! Now let go!". They cried as the two of us continued tugging before I let go when I felt sharp pain erupt from my hand I looked and saw a bleeding bite mark on the side of my palm.

Looking up in shock, they stood there holding their arm back as a trickle of my blood dripped down their lips while they bore their teeth at me like what a scared animal would do.

"I'm sorry-". I tried to reach out for them but they only backed away until Alfred came -probably from the ruckus we made- who escorted them away before focusing on my hand.

As Alfred was cleaning my hand I kept looking at the direction they left as I listened to him chastise me on how I approached the situation.

"I only wanted to give them what any child would have wanted Alfred". I reasoned with him but I knew deep inside I already said the wrong answer.

"You are correct to some extent sir and I understand you have good intentions, Master Bruce, They may be a child but a different one, Their only world is gone not too long ago and not only that but their Mother died on their own birthday as well". Alfred confessed the reason behind their actions making my blood turn cold from the truth.

"-You, yourself must understand what it must feel like to have everything gone in just a flash". He said before tying up the gauze and backing away from me.

"Give them time and if you are still persistent about the event then let me have a discussion with them first and let the child have a say or even a few choices on the matter". He added as he started to fix up the mess while he left me thinking.

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

After Alfred had a chance to consult with them, from what he relayed is that they agreed as long as they have the choice to leave whenever they wanted and no fancy stuff that exceed on what most normal people's party should be. By taking any wins that I could get, I personally planned everything that where only proper to call a normal party making sure it's not too extravagant, an event of finally viewing them as a Wayne, to show everyone that they are my child.

How did everything go so wrong so fast?

Joker and his newly formed goons who escaped Arkham Asylum after I foiled his plans months before crashed and destroyed the party and took them away.

"So sorry for being fashionably late Mr. Wayne! I was a little heartbroken when you decided to invite all of Gotham except lil' o me SO! I've decided why not both of me and this little ball of joy have the same debut! I'm sure Batsy won't mind right?" They cackle before driving off to who knows where while I stress as the people run like ants in the rain.

I was quick, I knew I was, searching for them like hell and made sure no stone or concrete was unturned in the city even if my hands were covered by the blood of his goons or other criminals that tried to get in my way but-

When I saw them falling down that green boiling pits I knew I should have arrived sooner, I should have never let them go in the first place, I should have hidden you instead.

I yelled out for them like a desperate man till my throat was raw as their hands -just inches- slipped pass mine, their body plummeting down the liquid as they tried their best to reach out the surface and stay afloat, I pounded my wrist on the metal catwalk that I dropped onto before rushing down and rounded the clown till he was down on the floor wheezing and bloodied, his face more purple and black than his pale white ashy skin.

I knelt down in anguish gripping the rocky shore of the green glowing pool when I heard a splash, looking up to see them crying out in pain and screeching like a bat out from hell making my heartbeat stop and started to pump again as adrenaline shot through my muscles as I quickly fished them out, they cried and cried in my arms while screaming out as their body spasm and muscles twitch as green veins cracked their skin.

Shushing their cries as I hold them close and tightly, tears slowly dropped from my eyes, running down the mask till they landed on their face as they whined from fatigue yet their head looked up as our eyes met, I pulled them near my chest as I lay their head on my shoulder as I try to whisper sweet nothings into their ear, hands trembling as I dig on anything my hand could touch, my voice wavering but not my promises to protect them, to give them what they want, to love them and to stay with them forever.

"Everything is alright now, you'll be alright, Father's right here I'm not going anywhere." I whispered as I kissed the top of their head and swaying them back and forth trying to lull them to sleep.

"I see you now, I'm right here and I won't let you out of my arms ever again"

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪 𓆩𓆪

Hope this ain't too shitty hahaha inspired when silco tried to save jinx with shimmer kept dreaming about it last night.