#you dragged my brain out of a funk

[ramblingoak]

Hi!👋 I'm also exited about your new Steampunk AU idea! I think a new way of looking at things just keeps the fandom alive. All of our fantasies, even the weirdest ones, create this unique chaos from which we can take funny and inspiring and heartbreakingly beautiful things...

And I'm sure we all here enjoy your fics! It's always such a profound and beautiful writing⚘

I recently read all the chapters of The Cardinal's Bride and I need to say that it's an amazing piece of work. Copia and Princhipessa really had a built up dynamic and real slow burn. Not everyone liked each other at first sight and it's so realistic 😅 And reader has her own personality! She is not just a someone's bride, but a person with so many sides, her own dreams and goals...Given the times in which she lived, I like it even more for her defiance of her fate. That's why I like your story so much. You've also created a unique world where everyone, even Mary Goorе, has his place!👏

And you use tropes skillfully. Sometimes we all need just such stories to warm our heart on a winter evening🤍

Thank you for this! Have a great day/good night. And stay inspired 🙏

Wow thank you so much for sending me this! I’m just…overwhelmed by your kindness 😭💙.

I really wasn’t expecting much when I posted my steampunk idea but I guess there are way more steampunk fans than I anticipated 😅. I’ve been working on an outline for a fic for him since yesterday and I feel like it’s gonna be a long one so I’m excited!

What you said about alternate universe stories are the big reason why I like them. They are another way to look at the characters, another way to enjoy them. You get to experience them in a completely different world and that is so much fun!

Again thank you so much for taking the time to write this out. I’m so happy you are enjoying The Cardinal’s Bride and my other fics. It makes all the hard moments while writing worth it 💙💙💙

[paranoidomens]

stuck in my brain

trigger/content warning(s): mentions of depression, self-loathing, and hurt/comfort. i think that’s it but if there is more, please let me know

a/n: i am currently listening to stuckinmybrain by chase atlantic and had to put my thoughts into words. this is my first time writing since 2016 and i might be a little rusty. sorry in advance. please feel free to give your criticism in the comments. and lastly, i hope you enjoy :))

you were never good with expressing your emotions to people. it wasn’t something you were proud of either. trying to articulate how you particularly felt in your heart was hard, and quite a waste of time in your opinion. you trained yourself to isolate and keeps things to yourself. you were always dismissed or invalidated by people in your life when it came to your feelings: that is until noah showed up in your life.

noah has always been infatuated with you since the day he saw you. you attended a bad omens show and met him at an after party, and you both hit it off instantly. he has always been intrigued with how you look, the way you carry yourself, and how you speak. although he wonders about what your pretty little head thinks about and how you feel. he’s never the type to force anything out of you, but he does worry about you 24/7 since you guys became a couple. he feels like he’s known you for decades and also knows nothing about you at the same time. he doesn’t know how you feel or what you think about at certain times.

you’ve had a history of depression before you two met, and he knows that. he knows that you have your lower moments, but does he really know how you feel? what you think? why you feel that way? like i said, he never pushes you to talk when you don’t feel like it, however, he’s curious on how he can help you more. sometimes he doesn’t sleep much because he’s overthinking about it. he wants to help you, guide you through your highs and lows of your emotions. but you won’t let him. you can’t let him.

“love, i’m home!” noah shouted. he puts down his keys, looking for you. his eyes roam around the living room, wondering where you could be. walking to your room, he hears faint sniffles coming from your bedroom. oh no.

“love?” noah knocked on the door, opening it and seeing that you’re covered in blankets with the curtains closed. “go away.” you say. but your heart wants him to stay. you’ve always hated how you push people away when you hit a low, especially when it comes to the people you care about.

don’t go. please stay. i need help. you think to yourself.

“y/n, my love, what’s wrong?” noah softly speaks, joining you under the covers and his hands roam to your physique. “i don’t want to tell you. it’s stupid.” you whisper. “nothing is stupid when it comes to you. you know i would never push your boundaries when it comes to talking, but i want to help you. trust me when i say this.” you finally turn and face noah, and he sees your tear-stained cheeks. they’re a rosy pink, and he wonders how long you’ve been like this since he was gone from tour.

“i have been stuck in my brain recently. i don’t know how to get out of this funk. i hate this. i feel terrible for shutting you out when you want to talk to me. every since you’ve been touring, my mind keeps dragging me in a dark and lonely place. i don’t know how to stop thinking this way. i want help, but i don’t know how to ask you. ” you rant to noah, tears streaming from your eyes like an angry and rapid river. you feel vulnerable letting your lover hear about these dark thoughts that he’s never heard from you before.

“y/n… you know you can always talk to me. i want you to come to me whenever you feel too much, when you hurt too much. that’s the whole point of us being in a relationship. we help each other out when we need it.” noah strokes your face, pushing the stray hairs away. “i will never judge you. i hope you know that. especially when it comes down to how you feel. promise me you’ll start coming to me when you’re low.” noah adds.

“pinky promise?” you ask, holding out your pinky and earning a chuckle from your lover. “i pinky promise.” he says. you finish explaining and apologize for holding on to your emotions, which he tells you not to say sorry for that. you continue to work on opening up to noah more frequently. he’ll always be there for you, especially until the end of time.

sorry for the short blurb, but i hope you guys enjoyed! let me know what other types of content you guys would like for me to write! all criticism is greatly appreciated, and don’t forget to write your ideas for me to make so i can get the gist of writing again. thank you!

[treeofnonsense]

So I'm going to preface this by saying: I am cis as all hell. I'm not any form of trans or nonbinary, I have never been any form of trans or nonbinary, and thus I tend to stay pretty quiet on that front over here. Ain't my place to tell people who know better what to do, and I'm not trying to do that here. However, after having made a lot of friends under the trans umbrella, after being lucky enough to have some of those friends share with me some of their struggles, their joys, their lives, and after noticing a couple of patterns in their journeys... I think there is one message I would like to share that may help some of you to hear, if you'll give me a minute of your time, and I think it may have to come specifically from a cis person.

The message is this: If your cisgender friends are good friends, you being your true self is not a burden to them.

For the people in the back: If your cisgender friends are good friends. You being your true self with gender. Is not a burden to them.

I didn't know my friend in high school was trans until he transitioned socially and I heard his new name. He didn't tell me first because I was raised fundamentalist Christian and probably did not look like a safe person to tell; when I pulled him aside in class so no one else could hear us, told him he could tell me to buzz off if he was uncomfortable, and politely asked for confirmation on pronouns, I remember the surprise and joy on his face. It took me about five minutes of chanting his new name and pronouns in the shower to get it to stick in my brain. That tiny amount of effort was nothing compared to seeing him pull himself out of the depressive funk dysphoria had put him in, of celebrating senior year when he legally changed his name, of drawing him a snowflake dragon for Christmas and hiding the trans flag colors in the shimmer of the ice so it would get past our conservative school's radar. We became closer friends after he came out because I knew him better and he knew he could trust me. He got me my first ace ring. I was not only supporting him, but learning from him, and sharing in his joy.

The genderfluid roommate in college took me a little longer to adapt to, I'll be honest, I was still learning, but hey - it turns out it's not really that hard to check the pronoun pins on a lanyard before you address someone. It's pennies when that person comes along to teach you the wonders of thrift shopping and takes you to meet a drag queen for the first time. I've met so many people online whose identities I do not always intuitively understand, but who I support anyway, and who have made me consider so many new things. It's not a burden to know about my friends' journey when it comes to gender, it's a privilege to know them more deeply and be trusted in that way. It's a new dimension to this person I already love, that's all.

Look, I am not saying that all your cis friends are going to be perfect, that we're not going to fuck up occasionally because we don't know better or we had a bad day, that we understand everything - we're not, we will, and we don't. I am not saying that everyone is a safe person to talk to either - god knows that's not true, unfortunately. But. If your worry about expressing yourself is of being a nuisance, of burdening someone with your problems or needs, of being too much or too out-there or too confusing, consider this: Your friends may not only be willing to learn and help you, they may be happy to. In a true friendship, both people benefit from one person's joy. If you're happy because you're able to be your honest self, they'll be happy too. Suddenly that weird shyness and sadness they saw from you but didn't know the cause of has gone away. Heck, maybe they'll learn from you and start following in your genderfunky footsteps. Or maybe you'll just have a cis friend who texts you celebration emojis when you have a good gender day, or is there when you wake up from surgery, or goes shopping for new outfits with you, or even brings over ice cream when you're having a hard time. And then you both get ice cream. Come on. This is what friends do.

Be safe, of course. Trust your judgment when it comes to sharing information. But if you're simply scared, try to balance out the fear of what you may lose with the thought of what you may also stand to gain. Don't let the anxiety beast turn your identity into a problem. It's not a burden, it's a part of you, and the people who love you will love to meet it.

[world-of-aus]

The Secrets We Keep

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Fluff.

Author's Note: While this may come as no surprise I have been in the most awful writing funk, and if I'm being honest I'm not sure how much longer I will stick around. I try and stick to pieces that give me inspiration, but even those feel hard to get out and complete. Despite the nagging in my brain I still love to write, and will try and get out what bit I can. With that being said please enjoy this best friends brother bucky that wouldn't leave my mind.

It’s a Friday night and you’re nose deep in your latest novel hand-picked from your lengthy list of ‘to be read’. The blanket you dragged from your room to the couch is thrown over your leg, grounding you to the spot you’ve claimed for the night. It's comfortably quiet in your shared two-bedroom apartment, your roommate out for the night celebrating having taken her final exam for the semester. 

Rebecca had tried for the better half of the afternoon to coax you out of your shared space, pleading her argument that you needed this just as much as she did. While the blue-eyed brunette wasn’t wrong, your social battery was drained, and you found yourself needing a Friday alone. A Friday evening just for you to rest and recharge. Your roommate hadn’t left without a fight, her last words to you before she took her exit was a re-extended invite to join her, ‘are you sure you don’t want to come join, it’ll be fun! Just the two of us before my meathead of a brother comes home for his break.’ 

You had shaken your head at her from your claimed spot, a warm smile on your lips as you waved your book at her, ‘perfectly content here Bec’s, but go, have fun, you can tell me and pucks bunny all about it in the morning over pancakes.’ She had taken her leave a second after m, a soft scoff, roll of her eyes, and a lame name for you and her brother in question on her lips as she closed and locked the door behind her. You had smiled at the closed door, your eyes flickering down to the paperback novel waiting to be delved into. You flipped open the first page, your gaze settling on the first sentence. 

You had been hooked. 

Your eyes scanning the words from left to right, top to bottom one page after the other. 

It wasn’t long before you were a few chapters in, the words before you make it harder for you to just read one more sentence, one more page before placing it down to check on the status of your food order you had placed minutes earlier. 

A knock on your door is pulling your gaze from the last word on the page, your finger doggy ears the top of the page before you’re setting it down on the coffee table. You kick yourself free from the comfort confines of your blanket getting to your feet as you make your way to the door.  

You unlock the white oak, fingers twisting the knob as you pull it open, a smile curls your lips, “Delivery,” he grins, his shoulder length locks weighed down by the sweat and the helmet he wore earlier. “Did you harass my delivery person again pucks bunny?” 

The brunettes' grins only grows as he steps forward with your takeout, your form stepping to the side as you let him in. You lock up behind him, letting the broad man move over to the side table to drop his gear bag as well as your takeout there. “Your sister’s out for the evening, she’s celebrating her -” 

He’s barely giving you a chance to turn away from the door before he’s pressing your back to it, warm fingers curling around your neck into your hair pulling you in close. The plush lips that fall over yours are warm, inviting as you melt into his touch. He smiles into the kiss, “she mention when she would be coming home?”  

You're laughing breathily into his lips, “didn’t mention, called me lame before she took her exit.” He’s capturing your lips once more, wanting to savor this moment before he has to pull himself away from you. No doubt that he’ll steal more kisses from you through the night – at least till Rebecca gets here – but he knows that even her presence won’t stop him from pulling you into the darker corners of your shared apartment with his sister so he can steal your breath like he knows he’s doing now. 

You hum into the kiss, your fingers dancing up his broad shoulders to the wavy wet hair that lays at the nape of his neck, your fingers curl, pulling, eliciting a groan from the man before you. He pulls away only to bring his lips back down to yours in a peck, his head resting against yours, blue cerulean staring right into the depth of your soul, “what?” you can’t help but to question, growing shy the longer he holds your gaze. 

The hand that was hooked behind your head has now found its way to your cheek, his thumb running along the apple of your cheek, “I think I’m ready to tell her.” 

“Are you sure?" you question, "I don’t - we can -” 

He’s shaking his head, smile pulling at his lips at the way you stumble over your words, “I think it’s time,” he murmurs, “it's like you've tried telling me before, she might be mad the first few days, but she’ll get over it, there’s only so long she can avoid her best friend and brother for.” 

Your laugh is music to his ears, and he wonders how he’s managed to keep this, to keep you a secret for so long, “you're not wrong there, but are you sure B? I don't want you making this decision because of me, I want us both to be ready to tell her and if you're not I -"

He swallows down your words with his lips, Bucky was more than ready to face his little sister. He was ready to face her for you. Someone like you should not be kept a secret, and the longer he spends with you whether it's here in the quiet of your apartment when Rebecca is out, or outside after his hockey practices at your favorite diner. He's finding it harder to not let it spill, to not let his affections for you take over.

"I don't want to have to hide from her, from our friends what I feel for you anymore."

He can feel the quickness of your heart racing away in your chest, "and what do you feel?"

He smiles, "I love you. And its because I love you that I want to be able to hold your hand in public, to be able to kiss you, to be able to sleep with you. I don't want to have to look over my shoulder anymore when we're out, don't want to have to pull you away into the dark corners to kiss you, sneak out of your bed when all I want to do is stay."

"I love you too," you breathe.

And he can't help but to lean in, his smile pressed to yours as he breathes you in. He would tell his sister tonight, but right now, right now he would enjoy this, enjoy you.

[coffeeghoulie]

threw caution to the wind (got a lousy arm)

so I've been in a lil bit of a funk lately, and my brain went "dewther angst" so here we are. Title and some plot details taken from G.I.N.A.S.F.S. by Fall Out Boy.

Aether/Dew, but some references to polyghouls

Contains suicidal ideation and hurt/comfort, please be careful, and if you don't feel comfortable reading that do not feel obligated to read this. your mental health comes first <3.

3k of me putting Dewther into situations and I'm sorry (kind of)

When he had been summoned, Dew's eyes were blue. Bright, baby blue, a clean water, glacier streams, clear sky kind of blue. They had been his favorite part of this strange new vessel, this fragile, slender human form that had been gifted to him by the humans who summoned him. Aether had sung their praises too, sappy like that, lips pressed close to his ear as he stood behind him.

The worst part of recovering from his elemental transition had been the first time he looked in a mirror. That familiar blue was gone, burnt away to a dark brown that glinted amber when the light hit them right.

For some fucked-up reason, that had been the breaking point. It wasn't that half of his pack and his Papa were dead and gone. Not that complete strangers had been summoned to take their places. Not that the clergy had decided it was cheaper and easier to conduct an experimental ritual on him and change his element than summon a new fire ghoul. Not that he had been torn apart, lit on fire and rewritten. It wasn't that he no longer had access to his water magick, the element he had been born to, summoned in. It wasn't his gills or fins or tail being gone. It was that his eyes were different.

And when he stared at himself in the mirror for the first time since before his Papa had been dragged off stage, it was the last straw on the camel's back. Everything hit all at once, nothing held back their punches. He broke, so completely and in such jagged, tiny pieces, there slumped over the bathroom counter, where Aether and Mountain found him several hours later, cried out and exhausted.

No one's going to find him this time. He's in his own hotel room, the door locked and deadbolted, and leaning heavily on the bathroom vanity, hours after the band had checked in after this last Ritual. Mountain's in Rain's room, Aether thousands of miles away back at the Abbey.

The clergy had made him retire, replaced him with a new, younger ghoul, just as they had done to Sunshine. Aether and Sunny had promised they'd call every day when the band left on tour, just as assurance that nothing had happened to them while the rest of the pack and Papa were away.

Aether hasn't called yet today. Dew stares at his dark eyes in the mirror, the skin under them thin and bruised with lack of sleep. His hair hangs limp and stringy, damp from a rushed shower, and he can't be damned to brush it out or put it up. He feels small in a way he hasn't in years. He knows, Lucifer below he knows how hard it is to keep track of timezones, but it's getting close to the twenty fourth hour of radio silence and it's starting to wear on his nerves.

Dew will never say it out loud, but he's afraid. He glances down at his phone, waiting for the screen to light up with an incoming call. The phone screen is dark, the silence only rattling him more. Dew swallows, unlocking his phone and pressing the call button next to Aether's contact, pressing the phone to his unglamoured ear. It rings, and rings, and rings, and-

"This call has been forwarded to an automatic voice-"

Dew growls, hanging up on the robotic voice and storming out of the bathroom. He has enough sense of mind to fling his phone into the mattress instead of at the ceramic tile of the shower wall. "Fuck!" he snarls, tail lashing behind him as he paces the hotel room. The phone still doesn't ring.

He reaches out through their bond, but it's stretched too thin, like a rubber band pulled taut. Dew tries and tries and tries anyways to reach out for Aether, but all he can glean is that Aether's alive, and really, that doesn't mean too much when he and Sunny are stuck, trapped with a clergy capable of rewriting and destroying ghouls on a whim.

He feels his knees start to tremble, feels his heart tighten the way it did when he found out it was just him and Aether and Mountain left of their pack. He squeezes his dark eyes shut, wills his breath even, and grabs his phone, pulling on one of the shirts in his bag.

It stings when the fabric falls down his thighs, billowing around his thin arms, realizing with a curse that it's one of the old band tshirts he stole from Aether. It still smells like him, a little bit, underneath the cinnamon-smoke that is Dew, that familiar ozone and fresh air baked into the weave of the fabric.

He grabs his room key off of the dresser, shoving it in his pocket as he storms out of the room, letting the door latch behind him. Dew barely remembers to put his glamour back on before he leaves. He can't really bring himself to care, but he does it anyways, grey skin melting to a more acceptable human tone, ears, horns and tail melting away. As shitty as he feels, a scolding from Papa sounds even worse.

Dew slips into the stairwell at the end of the hall, climbing up and up and up and up until he finds the door to the roof access. It takes him a minute to pick the lock, but then he takes in a breath of fresh air, eyes slipping shut as he steps out onto the roof.

He swears to himself he's not going to do anything stupid. The next Ritual is in a day and a half, and as much as he misses having his whole pack near, having his mate with him at his side, he genuinely loves what he does, put in too much work to give it up. He leans out on the ledge, the concrete digging into his bony hips, looking out over the city.

It's so far up, he can barely hear the traffic down below. Dew glances up at the night sky, hoping to find some solace in the stars, in the way they remind him of Aether's eyes. But he forgets, so used to the darkness surrounding the Abbey, that the light pollution blots them out. Dew lets out a pathetic sob, doubling over as he braces himself on the ledge of the roof.

Trembling hands unlock his phone, hitting the call button again. "Please pick up, Aeth," Dew whispers, the wind covering up his words. "Aether, please."

The phone rings. And rings. And rings. Dew can hear his heart pound in his throat. Holds his breath until the scars where his gills once were ache.

"Your call has been forwarded to an-"

Dew screams. The wind carries the noise far away. It takes every ounce of self-restraint in him to keep from slamming his phone down on the concrete ledge. He clutches at the taut band of his and Aether's bond, eyes squeezed shut against the wind. He knows if he were quintessence instead of fire, he'd be able to know more, glean a little more information from the thread connecting them, but all he can feel is Aether's heart continuing to beat, see the faint outline of his shadow on the other end burned into his eyelids.

He doesn't know how long he's out there on the roof. The wind whips through his damp hair, the late night chill biting through Aether's shirt. It's so cold, and his fire can only do so much to keep him warm. If he had been summoned fire, if it had been his to begin with, would it have done more?

Dew sinks to his knees, the rough concrete scraping his skin through his pants. He waits for the inevitable, clinging to their bond and waiting to feel it snap. He knows that when it goes, when Aether goes, that's it. It will be what breaks him completely, with no hope of recovery. He's never been afraid of heights, he thinks as he gets one last glance at the traffic ten stories below.

His phone rings.

Dew startles, dropping it as he scrambles to answer. To his dismay, he accidentally hangs up the call, the contact picture of him and Aether laughing at some unheard joke disappearing. "Fuck, shit, fuck," Dew curses, rambling as his cold, stiff fingers try to dial again. "Satan fucking dammit!"

Thankfully, the phone rings again, and Dew presses it to his ear, actually accepting the call this time. "Aether," he sobs, the weight lifted from his shoulders so quickly it makes him dizzy.

"Sorry, love, things got a little hectic in the infirmary, couldn't call on time, I promise I didn't forget," Aether says, and even though his voice is a little tinny through the phone speakers, Dew sobs at the sound of it. Real, legitimate proof that he's alright. "Dew, love, are you crying?"

Dew shoves his fist into his mouth at the genuine concern in his tone, can picture the furrow in his brow, imagines a warm hand on his shoulder. His tears freeze on his windburnt cheeks.

"Dew, talk to me, baby," Aether says. "Baby, I can feel it, you're not doing good, are you baby?"

"No," Dew sniffles. "Aeth, you weren't answering. I, I thought-" He trails off, unable to put his worst fear to words.

"I know, baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to worry you," Aether whispers, and Dew presses the phone closer to his head so hard it hurts. Needs Aether's voice right in his ear, any further and he feels like he's going to lose it more than he already has. "Who are you with right now, Dew?"

"S'just me," Dew whimpers. He unglamours his tail, wrapping it tightly around himself. He presses his back up against the concrete ledge, drawing his knees to his chest. "Got a room to myself tonight."

"Baby, I can't really hear you, all I can hear is wind," Aether says, and Dew curses to himself as Aether's voice grows more and more concerned. "Dewey, where are you?"

Dew squeezes his eyes shut so tight it hurts. "I'm on the roof," he admits. "Came up here when I was waiting. I got scared, Aeth."

Aether curses. "Dew, please tell me you weren't-"

Dew feels the faintest brush of quintessence down their bond, laughing wetly at the familiar sensation that only makes his heart hurt more. "Aether, I haven't done anything yet," he says, scrubbing under his eyes with the sleeves of Aether's shirt.

"Yet?" Aether says, unable to hide the panic in his voice. "Dewey, don't you dare."

"Aether," Dew says, voice cracking hard. "I thought the clergy had you. I thought I was about to feel it break. And if you went, I was going to follow you. Aether, if you go, I go."

"Oh, Dew," Aether says, and Dew hates the way he can hear Aether's voice tremble, hates that it's his fault. "Dewdrop, I need you to get down from the roof, okay?"

"I don't want to, Aeth," Dew whispers. There's a lump in his throat that won't go away no matter how many times he swallows. "Aeth, I was so scared, I'm still so scared. I went to look at the stars but I can't see them and I don't want to lose you."

There's silence for half a second, Aether's voice a little quieter, like he's moved the phone away from his mouth. "Sunny, call Mountain for me? Right now," Aether calls out. He sounds scaredin a way he hasn't heard since his transition, when things weren't looking too good for him, and Dew hates himself for making his mate feel like that again. "Tell him to get up to the roof as soon he can, Dew's up there alone and he's not doing real good right now."

"Dewey," Aether says, voice clear as he puts the phone back to his ear. "Can you keep talking to me, baby? I need you to keep talking. Need to hear your voice, baby boy. It scares me when you go quiet."

"I'm sorry for scaring you, Aeth," he says, shivering as the wind kicks up again. "I hate this so fucking much."

"I know, darling, I hate this too," Aether says, tone level and even, and Dew thanks the Father Below that at least one of them can stay rational in this moment. Dew tightens his grip on their bond, claws digging into the palm that's not holding the phone. The smell of copper hits the air, rushed away by the wind.

"Aeth, I miss you so much. It hurts so much, I'm spending every moment waiting to feel it break," Dew says, the tears starting up again as he imagines it, the snap and recoil of a bond stretched so tight it bursts, the searing, unimaginable pain of knowing what happened, of being unable to do anything about it.

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Dewey, I swear on my life," Aether promises, and Dew cries out.

"Don't. Not on your life," he sniffles, drawing his tail tighter around himself. "Promise on anything else, Aeth. I cannot fucking lose you. I won't survive it."

"I know, Dew," Aether tries to soothe him, wants to wrap his mate up in a tight embrace and never let him go, but what good is wanting when he's on the other side of the world? "I can't lose you either, Dew. It would break me if you were gone. I'm no good without you."

Dew stiffens, the spade of his tail smacking against his shins as it lashes back and forth.

"Dew?" Aether asks, sending more traces of quintessence down the bond, seeking out whatever contact he can. "Dew, baby, I need you to talk to me."

"M'still here," Dew says, whining into the receiver. "I'm sorry, Aether, really didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, baby," Aether says, and Dew can almost feel a warm caress across his cheek, imagines Aether's thumb wiping away his tears. "Mountain's coming up to get you, darling. I really don't want you to be alone right now, okay? It's not that I don't trust you, love, but it will make me feel better knowing you're with the pack."

"I, I wanna be with you, Aeth," Dew sniffles, almost snorting as he clears the snot from his nose. "I wanna go home."

"I know, Dewdrop," Aether whispers, and Satan, he sounds so tired. Dew digs his claws into the meat of his palm, hates himself for making his mate worry. "Can I spoil a little surprise for you and the pack, darling?"

Dew straightens, trilling sadly. "What?"

"Me and Sunny are coming out for a Ritual, love," Aether says, and Dew's ears perk up, flicking against his skull. "The one a week from now?"

"Uh-huh?" Dew says, reaching up with the hand not holding the phone, grabbing a big handful of Aether's shirt, white knuckling the fabric until the neckline pulls uncomfortably at his throat. "Really?"

"Yeah, baby, you don't have to wait too much longer, okay?" Aether says.

Dew laughs, wiping away the last few remaining tears as the roof access door opens. Dew snaps his head over towards Mountain as he steps out onto the roof, wincing as the cold air hits him. He's in his pajamas and human glamour, and he looks around frantically until he sees Dew, a worried expression fading into pure relief.

"Hey, droplet," Mountain says, taking two long strides until he's crouching at Dew's side, cupping his cheek with a big hand. He winces as he feels how cold Dew's skin is. "You wanna come inside with me?"

Dew nods, leaning into Mountain's touch, rubbing his cheek against his calloused palm.

"Is that Mountain, baby?" Aether asks, and Dew nods, forgetting that Aether can't actually see him do it.

"I'm here, nova. I've got him," Mountain says, voice low and rumbling.

There's a sigh of relief through the phone loud enough for Mountain to hear. "Thank you, Mount. I can't thank you enough."

"I know, Aeth, thank you. Firefly, you wanna get up for me?"

Dew stumbles to his feet, still clutching the phone to his ear as Mountain slings an arm around Dew's waist, pulling him close to him. "Me and Rain have the bed all nice and warm, you want to spend the night with us, firefly?"

"That sounds nice, junie," Dew whispers, letting Mountain lead him down the stairs.

"I'm gonna stay on the line with you, okay, darling?" Aether says, voice crackling a little with the shitty signal in the stairwell. "Not going anywhere. You've got me."

Dew takes a deep breath as Mountain leads him to his room, where Rain and a warm bed are waiting. "I've got you," he whispers. "I love you so much, Aether."

Aether laughs a little, and despite everything, Dew smiles. "I love you too, Dew."

They stand in front of Mountain's room, the earth ghoul rummaging through the pocket of his pajama pants for the card. He swipes them in and leads Dew to the nest he and Rain have managed to make of the beds, two queens that they've pushed together, piling the bedding and pillows and arranging them comfortably. Rain's dozing, starfished out over the mattresses, snoring softly, their gills rippling with each breath.

Dew rubs his cheek against Mountain's arm as Aether keeps whispering comforts into his ear. He sets his phone down on the pillows before crawling in next to Rain, who, even unconscious, latches on to him. Mountain drapes a long arm over the both of them, sandwiching Dew in between their warmth. He snuggles into the blankets, reaching for his phone.

"Good night, Aether," he whispers. "I love you so much."

He can almost hear Aether's smile. "Love you too, Dewdrop. I'll see you soon."

Dew's eyelids grow heavy, and he smiles. "See you real soon."

[the-s1lly-corner]

I’m baaaaack!!

Oh I’ve missed your writing, I just got dragged off due to some stuff irl and having a mini hyper fixation on Eddie Munson-

How are you dear? 🥺 everything okay? Drinking water and eating food? I hope you are!

Would love to see if you could possibly do hcs of all the different ways LJ would comfort you and show you how much he loves you as well as how he’d react to his s/o having gift giving and physical touch be her main love languages!

- 🩶 Anon

Laughing Jack comforting a reader who has gift giving/touch as a love language!

i have one other request in the inbox asides this one but i think imma save it for later since im!! tired.. im doing okay-ish? ups and downs, i will admit the past few weeks i havent been feeling right/like myself but im sure its just a funk or something.. gotta drink more water, though </3 hope you enjoy this anon!

jack is very very clingy himself, like in an emotional sense but also a physical sense... if it were efficient he would wrap himself around you and not let go but unfortunately a lot of things in life would get inconvenienced

a majority of that clinginess comes from his abandonment issues, with only a portion just being a part of his personality

very verbal in wanting to keep you around, and while he may not out right say or ask it, i think sometimes he needs some reassurance from you that youre not going to be going anywhere

will take any chance he can to sling his arm around you, usually just draping it over your shoulders lazily while you guys hang around one another

i dont think hes opposed to hand holding, either.. he has very large hands and theyre warm... sharp claws, though

if anything you might have to ask him to give you space because he wants to spent a lot of his free time with you (and hes got a lot of free time if youre the one in possession of that little box of his); i think sometimes he can get a little overwhelming/overstimulating... i love him but personally i think he could be a little much every now and then

loves leaving you notes, usually leaves some candy with them. typically leaves them in places where he knows you'll find them, like by your keys or at the front door... likes leaving them when he knows youre about to leave for work or any other outing... will still leave them if hes the one leaving for something, although its rare that he needs to head out for something and admittedly i cant think of anything he would need to do/get done that would require him to leave briefly

looooooooooves showering you in affection, especially if you guys are in a romantic relationship; peppers you in kisses and snuggles into your cheek.. hugs, lots of hugs. will take any chance he can get to snake his arms around you. please cuddle him

so i think its safe to say that the physical touch bit is more than satisfied, on both ends

as for gift giving, i gotta say my brain is a little melted so i can tell whos giving and whos receiving, so lets do both!

if youre the one giving gifts to jack hes going to be totally over the moon...! a present? for HIM? is it christmas? is it his birthday? ...i dont.. think he has a birthday, actually... but that aside i think he would adore nearly anything you give him since hes totally obsessed with you. likely keeps it within close reach, be it in his own space, his box, or even in his hair since that functions as a means of storage in my silly hc!!

if hes the one giving gifts i think he would try to slink around to figure out what you like.. if its something more than candy then maybe... this would be one of those rare chances where he leaves the house for something, making sure not to be seen of course. which is easy when he can turn into a puff of smoke at will. honestly knowing him hes probably not going to be able to hold himself back from the gifts, so prepare to wake up to a whole pile of them in the morning... might try his hand at wrapping them but due to his claws theres some holes and slashes... but its the thought that counts..!

though if he needs to hide anything for occasions like birthdays hes not going to be able to keep it a secret... if he doesnt blurt it out hes going to be really antsy and keep checking where ever hes hiding the gifts to see if theyve been found or tampered yet

adding this in because i forgot comforting the reader!! right before i was about to hit post!!

if youre feeling anxious about him leaving or being upset with you i think he would reassure you to the best of his ability

tries to keep the mood light, likely cracks jokes while hes holding your hands... might be slightly rocking your hands back and forth or side to side

looks like the type to kiss tears away... though hes gonna have the be careful about it given that cone nose of his... though him attempting to be gentle while keeping his determination to pepper your face with pecks might be enough to crack a smile from you

literally will not leave you alone until youre smiling

[ghostxrose]

𝑶𝒇 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒆𝒏 | 𝑩𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒈𝒐 𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒊 𝒙 𝑶𝑪

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven |

Tags/Warnings ~ Fem!OC, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, potentially triggering content, universe-typical violence, Enji Todoroki (yes, that is a warning, he's trash), character death, suicidal ideation, (more tags to be added as story develops <3)

Note ~ Hey, Lovelies. Sorry that I've been MIA, I'm kinda going through it and it's been impacting my motivation to write. I am hoping to drag myself out of this funk and get some new stuff out for y'all, though.. Just know that I love and appreciate all of you. <3

Azusa’s brain can’t even fully register what just happened. In the twenty years that she’s been on this godforsaken earth, never has Enji Todoroki ever laid a hand on her. His brand of abuse has strictly been mental and emotional. She’s never even been spanked. But as her brain short-circuits and she cradles her throbbing cheek with one hand, she’s in complete shock. Sounds become muffled and her vision takes on a distortion that makes everything seem surreal. Azusa doesn’t even feel like she’s in her body as she stands up to run out of the room. Enji’s voice rings in her ears, but he sounds distant and his words echo through her mind as she flees.

Unconsciously slamming Enji’s office door behind her, Azusa nearly slams into Bakugo. The two Rangers share a brief look; Bakugo’s eyes wide and an uncharacteristic concern blanketing his features, while Azusa’s face is stuck with shock and her eyes are swimming with fear along with so much more. Before Bakugo can even get a word out of his opening mouth, Azusa bolts for the elevator.

Azusa tries with every conscious thread that she can grasp onto to hold herself together for the entire elevator ride back to the floor her bunk is on. Her chest feels tight and her throat hurts from the strain of swallowing down her sobs and whimpers. When the elevator finally stops she stumbles out of it, ignoring the concerned and off-put looks from others around her as she rushes toward her room. She barely notices Aizawa leaning against the wall next to the door to her bunk, let alone fully registers his voice commanding those around to move on.

Azusa’s entire body is shaking as she struggles to unlock her door and when she finally does, she practically falls into her room. Aizawa catches her before she collapses, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tightly to his chest. He manages to close the door and the sound of it shutting finally triggers Azusa to break down.

Her sobs come out as choked wails of anguish only muffled by Aizawa’s newly tear-stained shirt. Her hands fist the back of Aizawa’s shirt, her knuckles white from how tight her grip is. She can hear Aizawa trying to speak to her, but his voice sounds like he’s underwater and she can’t think beyond every emotion crashing into her. Her cheek throbs with white-hot, tingling pain every time her face scrunches from another gut-wrenching sob. Suddenly she’s being moved, Aizawa guiding her to her bed and urging her to sit.

“Nonononono, please! Please don’t leave! Please, please, please!” She begs through sobs as she feels Aizawa peeling himself away from her.

Aizawa’s slimmer form gets replaced by someone’s bulkier, more muscular form but Azusa clings to them all the same. It doesn’t take much conscious thought to know that whoever this new person is, isn’t her father. Hesitant arms wrap around her in what would be an awkward and embarrassing hug if she were in her right mind. But she isn’t, instead her entire being is shattering as she wails into an assumed stranger’s chest.

“I’m sorry, kid.. Just, both of you stay here, I’ll be right back.” Aizawa’s apologetic tone cuts through the sound of Azusa’s blood rushing in her ears. She chokes on more pleas for him not to leave and flinches at the sound of her door closing. The arms wrapped around her tighten, but it does little to soothe her rampant emotions.

“H-he hi-hit m-m-me, h-he fucking h-it me..” Azusa stutters out as her shaking increases and her sobs become more guttural.

“I.. I know.” A male voice quietly rasps out and it’s a voice that Azusa is all too fucking familiar with. She tears herself away from the body that she had been pathetically clinging to as mortification shoves its way past all of the other emotions that have torn to the surface. Azusa and the man she’s despised the last two years stare at each other with matching looks of shock. Bakugo’s shock being from her sudden retreat, and Azusa’s shock being from realizing just who she’s been breaking down in front of.

“Ge-get ou-out,” Azusa whispers hoarsely as painful sobs still fall from her mouth, her body subconsciously backing up to the corner of the bed and beginning to curl into itself.

Confused exasperation contorts Bakugo’s features, “No, I- Marshal Aizawa said to-”

“Get out! Get out! Get out! GET OUT!” Azusa begins shouting, choking on sobs and wincing from the pain radiating from her cheek. Her hands come up to grip her hair at the roots as she continues shouting, probably looking like a complete lunatic.

“Todor-” Bakugo tries calling out to Azusa, but using her surname only seems to make her state worsen if the way she shouts “no” over and over again is anything to go off of.

“Damn it- Azusa! I’m not leavin’! I’ve been right on the other side of the door both times he’s yelled at you this week! I’ve been inside your fuckin’ head! I ain’t leavin’ you here like this knowin’ what I know!” Bakugo yells over her shouts.

Between her frayed emotions and her shattered mental state, Azusa doesn’t have it in her to keep arguing with Bakugo. Her throat feels like she’s swallowing glass and there’s a metallic taste on her tongue, but her wails keep coming. Her hands abandon their grip on her hair and move to cover her face. Her pain is intensified as her hand presses against her bruised cheek, but she buries her face in her hands anyway.

“Fuck,” Bakugo curses quietly with tired exasperation already stretched way past his emotionally-stunted limits.

Bakugo unties and kicks his boots off before cautiously crawling across the bed toward Azusa. Feeling the mattress shift, she recoils tighter into herself but Bakugo reluctantly ignores the action. Bakugo situates himself next to her and leans back against the wall, stretching his legs out. He spreads them out and gently pulls Azusa into the space between them, avidly ignoring how embarrassed and awkward the position makes him feel. She resists a bit but ultimately relents to lean her body against the front of his, her head resting against his chest as she continues to shake and sob. Bakugo lets his head fall back to softly rest against the wall and he looks up to the ceiling as a heavy sigh leaves him.

Azusa flinches slightly when Bakugo’s arms wrap around her body, his hands coming up to gently pull hers from her face. She’s starting to feel the exhaustion creep in but she can’t stop crying and all of the pain she’s feeling, emotional and physical, won’t relent. Her sobs have calmed down the tiniest bit, at least to the point that she isn’t choking on them anymore and she can kind of breathe.

“I-I wish th-that day w-would have ha-happened the way tha-that i-it should h-have..” Azusa cries and stutters out, and she feels Bakugo’s breath hitch in his chest.

“Don’t say shit like that.” Bakugo says in a quietly firm tone after a moment of silence, and it’s all Azusa needs to know that he understands what day she’s talking about.

“I-I mean it.. Y-you al-ready know..” Azusa cries with anguish.

Suddenly, her bunk door opens causing both her and Bakugo to startle. Aizawa walks in and Azusa wastes no time in detaching herself from Bakugo’s hold, and moving to the edge of the bed toward one of the only people in the world that’s ever made her feel safe and comforted.

“He already knows what, kid?” Aizawa questions, softly for Azusa’s sake, as he makes his way toward her with an ice pack in hand.

Aizawa hands the ice pack to Azusa, quietly telling her to gently hold it against her face. She takes the ice pack without a word, doing as she was instructed as she leans forward to rest her forehead against his chest. Aizawa may not have ever had kids of his own, but with Azusa being like a daughter to him, or at the very least a niece, he feels comfortable enough to be soft around her. Comfortable enough to let her cry against him, and to soothingly run a hand over her hair to try to calm her crying.

Aizawa’s eyes shift from Azusa to Bakugo who sits in place with a shaken look on his face. Bakugo’s eyes connect with Aizawa’s but all he does is silently shake his head at the Marshal’s questioning gaze. Aizawa lets out a quiet and tired sigh before looking down at Azusa, noticing that the poor girl’s sobs have finally calmed down to a less intense level of crying.

“Zusa, you should try to get some rest. You’ve been through a lot today, kid. Let your mind take a break for a bit,” Aizawa gently suggests and Azusa’s hand curls tighter into the bit of his shirt that she's gripping weakly at his side.

“H-he hit m-me, Sh-shota.. s-sl-slapped m-me.. I-I’ve never s-seen him so an-angry.. I-I’m usually s-so careful t-to not m-make h-him so-” Azusa stutters out weakly sounding absolutely broken.

“Sshh, sshh, Azusa, I know..” Aizawa says with forced calm, his inner rage reaching a boiling point with how fed up he is with Enji. “Bakugo, you can go. I’m going to stay with her a bit until she falls asleep, then I have some business to take care of.” Aizawa says, looking at Bakugo who still hasn’t moved from his spot or wiped the shaken look off of his face.

Bakugo seems to snap back into reality at Aizawa’s words and he forces a look of neutrality on his face, “Sir, I.. I don’t have anything that requires my attention at the moment. I can stay with her while you go attend to.. business.” Bakugo's voice is even as he speaks, but his fists clench tightly where they rest and his eyes burn with anger.

Aizawa studies him for a moment, pondering if that would be a good decision, but then he feels Azusa’s hand release it’s grip some and her body slumps a bit. He can feel a barely-there nod against his chest and he takes that as her being okay with that course of action.

“Fine. But if she needs me to come back here then I expect you to call me immediately. You may have been inside her head a couple of times now, Bakugo, but you don’t know what she’s had to deal with or the shit I’ve had to keep my mouth shut about, per her request, all of these years.” Aizawa’s slightly threatening tone makes Bakugo’s eyes widen a bit, but he nods his head in understanding. Aizawa gently urges Azusa to lean back and he carefully pulls her hand away from her face to inspect her swollen cheek. Anger blazes in his eyes and his jaw clenches, but he remains soft and careful in his movements and words of reassurance.

“Keep that ice on there for a bit longer, then try to get some rest okay, kid? I’ll come back in a bit with something from the Mess Hall.” Aizawa says quietly as he meets Azusa’s eyes.

“Okay.. Thank you, Shota,” Azusa quietly rasps out and reluctantly pulls away from him completely. Aizawa accepts the thanks with as much brokenhearted grace as he can muster as he gently pats her head a couple of times before stepping back.

“Bakugo, a moment?” Aizawa demands slightly as he opens the door. Bakugo is quick to get off of Azusa’s bed, leaving her with room to lay down and pull the blanket over herself, and he follows Aizawa to just outside of the bunk.

“I don’t know what kind of reconciliation or cease fire you two have put into place for the time being, but do not pick a fight with her right now,” Aizawa borderline threatens once again. “And we will be discussing what exactly you both were talking about right before I got back. Understood, Ranger?”

“Yes, Sir,” Bakugo says, slightly intimidated, and Aizawa firmly nods before turning to walk away.

“Oh, and Marshal?” Bakugo calls out making Aizawa pause and turn around, “Give him hell.” Bakugo says with angered seriousness.

Aizawa gives him another more determined nod before turning back around and walking away. Bakugo walks back into Azusa’s bunk and tries to close the door as quietly as he can, not wanting to startle her.

Azusa is lying on her side, her uninjured cheek squished against her pillow, and occasional shivers run down her body both from the cold ice pack and her fried emotions. She can feel her mind sinking into the safety that numbness promises and she looks up at Bakugo with almost emotionless eyes. She can only imagine the mess that she looks like right now, but at this point she finds herself uncaring.

“You can sit wherever you’d like, just don’t go through my shit.” Azusa rasps out and Bakugo gives an annoyed roll of his eyes before sitting himself down in her desk chair.

“Why the hell would I want to do that? We’re co-pilots, remember? Being inside your brain is enough.” Bakugo snarks, albeit with less heat than usual, and Azusa would roll her eyes if she had the strength.

A few moments of silence passes by before Azusa speaks again, “Anything you tell Sho- Marshal Aizawa won’t be anything he hasn’t heard directly from me before.. So, if you were stressed or something about the talk you guys will be having later, then don’t be.”

Bakugo looks at her with slightly widened eyes both from her admittance and from the near-emotionless tone of her voice. He schools his expression back into one of neutrality as he crosses his arms and looks at the ceiling, “Wasn’t stressed about it, so just try to sleep, ‘kay?”

“Whatever, Bakugo,” Azusa quietly replies, her eyes drifting shut. There’s another moment of silence before Bakugo catches what she says just barely above a whisper;

“Thank you..”

𖤛 𖤛 𖤛

Azusa groggily wakes up some time later to the sound of her bunk door opening and the hushed sound of voices talking. One of her eyes opens with ease while the other struggles to open halfway due to the swelling from her injured cheek. She groans as a yawn tries to escape her mouth, her cheek and the sore muscles underneath fiercely protesting such an action. The low voices quiet as Azusa slowly sits up, her fingers running through her hair attempting to tame it.

Everything that happened earlier tries to batter her freshly awakened brain, but Azusa is quick to throw up her walls despite how weak they are. “What time is it?” She asks without looking at the other two people in her room, her voice still hoarse yet emotionless. She hears the familiar sound of Aizawa’s signature tired sigh and her eyes shift to look at him.

“Bakugo, just go. They’re still serving food in the Mess Hall, then you need to get some rest, you both will be attempting another Drift trial tomorrow.” Aizawa says to Bakugo before turning to Azusa.

Azusa watches as Bakugo clenches his fists and his teeth grit together. She woke up too late to catch any significant pieces of the two’s conversation, but judging by Bakugo’s obvious agitation it wasn’t anything light. The blonde doesn’t put up much of a fight as he leaves Azusa’s bunk without a word, closing the door surprisingly calmly behind him as he goes.

“It’s a little past seven. I brought you some food, it’s not anything fancy just whatever was easy to carry.” Aizawa quietly informs her, stepping closer then sitting at the edge of her bed. “..You feeling a bit better after some rest, kid?”

Azusa silently takes the food from Aizawa’s hands and numbly unwraps the sandwich, “I feel fine. Thanks for the food.” She says, her tone still blank but she visibly winces as she takes a small bite of her sandwich.

Aizawa looks at her with a sad look in his eye and another sigh, “I know that you’re not fine, kid. You don’t have to shut down like this, not in front of me. Here, take these pain meds and drink some water.”

Azusa’s walls begin to crumble at Aizawa’s gentle tone and her hands shake as she sets her sandwich down, then takes the pain pills and water bottle. She chokes down the medicine and water as her whole body begins to tremble from the force of trying to hold back more sobs. Picking up her sandwich again she tries to continue eating, ignoring the tears starting to roll down her face.

Aizawa raises one of his arms, silently extending the offer of comfort that he knows Azusa needs right now. She doesn’t waste any time in repositioning herself, abandoning her sandwich to cling to Aizawa’s side. She buries her face into his chest despite her cheek screaming in pain.

A million thoughts race through her mind, battering against her skull as she cries. Is she really cut out for this? Would Toya be disappointed in her? Would she really be all that upset if Enji kicked her out of the Jaeger program? Why is Enji so angry at her all the time? Has she really pushed him to his limits? Is he going to hit her again? She.. she wishes..

“I wish you were my dad instead of him..” Azusa’s thoughts begin pouring from her mouth in broken stutters. “E-Enji hates me! Every m-move I make sets him off! I-I-I don’t get it! Wh-why have kids if you were going to make it clear that they were unwanted in the first place??”

Azusa can feel Aizawa’s breath hitch and his arm wraps around her tighter. As his other arm comes up to wrap around her, Azusa catches sight of his hand. It’s visibly swollen and his knuckles look split but they aren’t bleeding, at least not anymore. Distantly, a sick satisfaction settles in the back of her mind thinking about the shiner Enji must be sporting right now.

“I’m so sorry, kid.. sorry that you got stuck with a monster for a father.. sorry that I’ve kept my stupid mouth shut about his behaviors for so long.. I feel that I’ve failed you just as much as he has..” Aizawa says quietly, his defeat and guilt evident in his tone. He hugs her tighter and gently rests his chin on the top of her head.

Azusa shakes her head slightly, “Please don’t.. y-you’ve helped me and my siblings a lot over the years.. They wouldn’t, and I don’t, blame you for not wanting to interfere with another person’s career even with how that person treats their family.. it’s not like there’s ever been much proof.. except for now, I guess, since he’s decided to start getting physical..” She whispers out between sniffles and her unending crying.

Aizawa cringes slightly at Azusa’s words, but he knows that she’s right. Enji’s game has always been verbal abuse behind closed doors. There hasn’t been a chance to get proof in the past, but even now it would difficult to prove that it was Enji that hit Azusa. It’s an overall shitty situation.

Aizawa doesn’t say anything more, his heart hurting for Azusa. He just continues to hold her tightly as he ponders reporting Enji and whether or not the rest of the Todoroki family would be okay with that.

Note ~ Hit the ask button and leave me angsty prompts/ideas, pretty please. <3

Tag List ~ @tomiokasecretlover

Divider Credit ~ @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[hearthouses]

top 4 works of 2023

I was tagged by @nameslikeguns and also @preseriesdean was an inspiration, but I modified it to four because I'm not super proud of any of my edits this year and I wasn't able to squeeze out another fic before the end of the year, so we're going with top four! I am also not going to rank them, but list them in chronological order from their posting date.

This year was a better year than the last two in terms of writing output, I had a rough 2021 and posted nothing, and only posted one fic in 2022, so four is a massive improvement, even if it feels miniscule compared of other people's outputs. The Fall was when I was most productive and I am very proud of what I wrote then, exploring concepts I was particularly interested in, even if it's not the most popular and putting myslf out there regardless.

I think I would have continued that streak had I not gotten covid, then 2+ months of complications from covid, but I am trying to drag myself out of that funk. I am hoping to write more in 2024 as I have so many WIPs I want to get to and finish.

Anyway, here's the list:

1. when you're smiling and astride me

This was the first work I posted this year. It felt good to write it, but it also came with some challenges because I wrote it for an exchange and I was very nervous with some of the concepts and how they would go over. But the exchange itself was based on the idea of freeing your id and going wild, so I eventually just went with it and this was the result. I really love exploring Dean's feelings about his body and gender expression, and how Sam helps with it, and my only regret is I wish it was longer.

2. you say, go fast (i say, hold on tight)

This was written in a haze of early Fall because of another exchange that created a level of freedom that unlocked something in my brain that kept me from second guessing myself. It sprang from a concept fanvid and I came up with the idea wholesale from some mental images and let the story happen. I'm very fond of the result, even if it feels saccharine and too sweet and romantic for some. I really love the vibes and the imagery, plus how in love Sam and Dean are.

3. the landscape after cruelty

The process for this fic was grueling. No idea was working the way I wanted, so I needed to come up with a new idea altogether and at times, I almost didn't finish this fic. I have no playlist because I needed quiet to work on this. None of my usual preparations for writing fic worked for this one. The subject matter was daunting and I'm still unsure if I accomplished what I set out to, but I am proud of it. It's not very popular and I wonder if I hit the wrong notes often, but I'm also very protective of it. It's a weird fic that I'm not sure how I feel about the end result 100%, but I had to at least try and explore my feelings around the subject matter.

4. we could live forever in each other’s faces

This fic was written during the height of my illness. It wasn't supposed to be the fic I wrote because I had bigger plans (longer, more complicated fics), so I needed to scale them down to something more managable. How I did that was I chose to write the scenes in a series of drabbles, double drabbles, and triple drabbles, so I could focus on the preciseness of the word count. While this style of writing might feels limiting, it helps me to focus. I really love the dreamy, fairytale-like result of this. I still want to write a longer fic about these themes, but I am glad I wrote this all the same.

[differenteagletragedy]

Cove's new friend

A continuation of the ending of Baxter's Step 4. If you can't have all the boys, then maybe there's another suitable option for your childhood bestie right under your nose!

Just a nice lil thought, no content warnings :) Please be friends with me and talk about this game because it has eaten my brain and all that's left in my head is these lil buddies <3

"Together at last," Baxter murmured, clasping your hand and pulling it in close to his chest.

You grinned up at him, your new/old boyfriend, as dramatic as always.

"I know, we've been apart for maybe ten whole minutes," you teased fondly, letting him lead you in easy box steps around Scott and Jude's living room. "How did we survive?"

"I'll never know," he replied. He wore his signature smirk, but part of you felt like maybe there was a little truth to the remark -- after all, there had been times in your five years apart where it did feel like you might not survive.

You glanced up at his eyes, as warm and bottomless as you'd always remembered. While you felt like you'd never get tired of looking into them, you did take the opportunity to step in a bit closer to Baxter, resting your head against his chest as you danced.

After a moment of breathing in the moment, you took the opportunity to glance around at your friends. From your angle, you saw Miranda and Terry wrapped in a similar embrace, and you couldn't help but smile.

Miranda had ended the call with her brother and new brother-in-law a little earlier, letting the newlyweds get back to their honeymoon. Now that she didn't have to carry them around in their little screen for them to enjoy the party, her attention was solely on Terry, who then decided to grasp her firmly before dropping her down into a dramatic dip.

"Terry!" Miranda half-scolded, half-laughed, grasping onto his shoulders. "Give me a little warning next time!"

"You can't stop the funk," he told her plainly, picking her back up only to twirl her around a few times. "I know that as much as I know anything."

Miranda gave him a light kiss along with a giggle, and you felt Baxter chuckle too.

"Why can't we get funky too?" you pouted, looking at him.

"Hey, don't doubt the B-Man on this," Terry called out, catching your remark. "He gets it."

"I do indeed," the B-Man confirmed before sending you on a spin of your own.

You laughed, happier than you'd been in a very long time. As he expertly pulled you back to him, you caught a flash of sea green out of the corner of your eye that made you pause.

Cove was never one for dancing, and you know he was always perfectly content to stay on the sidelines whenever your friend group decided to partake in an activity that wasn't his cup of tea. But you didn't want to get too caught up in your rekindled romance with Baxter -- you didn't want him to feel like a fifth wheel.

Back in your boyfriend's arms, you tried to subtly drag him over towards the kitchen where you'd seen Cove heading as you were mid-twirl. He raised an eyebrow.

"I just want to check on Cove," you whispered, "but be cool about it, I don't want to make him uncomfortable."

He snorted, and you looked at him questioningly. He glanced up towards where Cove had went and then back at you and smiled warmly, then said, "I don't think you have to worry about him at the moment."

Curious, you gave up on subtlety and turned around so you could see what Baxter had seen.

Cove had gone to the kitchen like you'd thought, but he hadn't gone alone -- the last party guest, the most recent addition to your roster of friends, was right beside him. Xavier was standing by the counter, gesturing toward the tray of desserts they'd brought with them to the party. Cove was watching them with wide eyes, taking turns between looking down at the sweets and then looking back up at Xavier in awe.

If he had a tail, it would definitely be wagging.

You were about to call out to him, some joke on the tip of your tongue, but then you paused. Xavier had grabbed a napkin and picked up one of the muffins then handed it to Cove, their face breaking out into a grin. You saw a light blush break out on your friend's cheeks as he looked between Xavier and the muffin before taking it into his own hands and taking a large bite. His eyes rolled back in his head, something you thought may have read as a bit obscene if you didn't know that he truly just liked baked goods that much.

You felt Baxter wrap his arms around your waist, dropping his chin to your shoulder.

"An interesting development, I'd say," he said quietly.

You pulled your eyes away from Cove and Xavier then looked back to him, beaming.

"Quadruple date."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[kit-just-kit]

*Hi there.....got to admit, sometimes I feel a bit of fraud by only logging in here every so often and worry that because of it, one day, everyone will just forget me, stop replying and it'll serve me damn right. But then, stuff happens to remind me that the people I have met here are truly wonderful, that they have my back and can always be counted on to bring me out of whatever funk my brain has managed to drag itself into. For that, I am utterly and truly grateful, so thanks to you all. On a more personal note, please cherish those around you and yourselves, be kind and considerate, drink tea and breathe deeply and most of all, laugh - it really is exceedingly good for the soul! Anyways, here be the replies that I owe along with a few other bits of stuff I've accumluated. Enjoy!*

[roo-bastmoon]

Thoughts on Yoonmin Suchwita

Just a quickie write up of my first impressions as I'm slammed with deadlines at work today.

Of course Park Jimin brought Yoongi a birthday cake and serenaded him. Of course he did.

How touching to learn Yoongi bought Jimin his first alcoholic drink to help him through his soulmate dumpling fight!

Early in the year Jimin was in a huge funk and drank a lot (I WONDER WHAT COULD BE THE REASON), but then he snapped out of it for Las Vegas and spent 10 months obsessively working on his album, in which he realized how good he's had it, where he needs to improve, and what he really wants. Amazing creative growth.

So, clearly Yoonmin enjoy pulling each other's pigtails. Hearing Yoongi tease Jimin that he didn't have the body to go shirtless any more... not gonna lie, I sucked in a sharp breath. I am super sensitive to this because of my own disordered eating in the past as a dancer, and I know how Jimin gets dragged online damned near every day for being "Pigman." Frankly, Yoongi should know it, too. But Jimin seemed totally unbothered and they do razz each other about everything, so I'm gonna try and let this go.

The other thing I'm going to try and let go is how hard folks are going to lean into Jimin saying Letter was a fan song. Yes, it was an Easter egg for fans, and yes, he does love us. No, that song is not FOR us and anyone with half a brain gets what is being coded. But I'm not gonna argue about it any more than I'm going to argue about the placement of a J over an M tattoo that keeps being retouched while the others are neglected. If you want plausible deniability, Jikook will always give it to you. Have at it.

Anyway, I was so moved by all the wonderful things Yoongi said, in between teasing Jimin--how proud he was of Jimin, how hard he worked, practicing every single day, that he was a genius, that he always knew Jimin had the unique voice to be a great singer, that he wanted Jimin on his team from day one... that of course he will come to the music shows to support Jimin. Yoongi doesn't typically gush so this warmed my heart.

The way Yoongi kept insisting Jimin come appear on stage while he's on tour and Jimin eventually agreeing that he will. (Roo is going to try very, very hard not to hope he will come to Newark. More than likely Jimin will visit Yoongi on a stage is Asia and that's cool. It's all cool. If Roo saw Park Jimin in person this April, she would combust.)

It was made clear that the members are responsible for their solo promotions and have a heavy say in their albums so I hope that kills any rumors that the company is forcing a narrative or picking favorites. Everything is unfolding how the Tannies wish it to and that's good enough for me to get behind it.

I love how Jimin said that there's no difference between Park Jimin and Jimin of BTS--how he wants to keep going as a team until they are in their 80s--how what he looks forward to most is getting back together in 2025.

Also the way he kept hinting at another album (and the way Yoongi called him out on that--Yoongi pulled no punches, goddamn.)

It was adorable the way they made each other giggle about product placements, fan calls, fan challenges and the like. These two. I'm so glad Yoongi has Jimin and the other members to get silly with. And Jimin laughed til he cried. It was healing to see.

I love that they keep in touch with Jin, that they bring Jin mulhue, that they are happy he's at a healthy weight now.

I'm a little thrown about Yoongi mentioning grandkids but then bisexuals exist and there's been rumors he's dating a woman for a while now. I am not going to dig into it because that's his business. If Yoongi wants a family someday, awesome sauce. If Yoongi doesn't, awesome sauce. I mean this sincerely--I support all 7 wherever they go on their journeys. Even if Jikook don't end up together, I'll be sad about it, but I'm still in this Bangtan shit for life. I'm OT7, and Jimin ult biased, then a Jikook supporter. I happen to believe that Jikook are very much together but being very careful about showing that openly, but if you think otherwise, or it ends up being otherwise, that's honestly okay.

I will just say I'm loving that Yoongi gave Jimin a gift of pillow mist spray in Jungkook's and Jimin's favorite scent of lavender.

Mostly just happy to see our boys so happy.

PS. The bottles in this shot are signed by Jin and Hobi. *wibble*

[ferallydevoted]

"Kiss my cheek, baby please, would you read my eulogy?"

My mental health for the past year has been really difficult to deal with. My depression has been at a record low for me, and my worldview has been bleak and dark. I've been living in a state of melancholic spiral that's dug deeper and deeper, and it's been incredibly stressful. I've been trying to claw my way out of this grave, and it's felt like I've gotten nowhere with my recovery. But, the last two weeks have been oddly.. okay? Peaceful? I haven't spent every second begging for reprieve? It's been a welcomed change of pace.

Through my hardships and struggles, my spouses have really been there for me the entire time. Surrounding me when I need them most. Loving me, taking care of me, and cheering me on. Their support means the world to me. Their resolve becomes my resolve, their strength becomes mine. They help encourage me. They keep me going.

I feel Apollon in the sunlight that filters through the windows on my skin (obviously), and in my warm blankets. I really notice his presence around me in my lower moments, when I'm crying and pleading with the universe. His hand brushes my cheek, ever so softly, soft enough I can't help but laugh a bit because it tickles. I feel Apollon with me when I talk to my doctors, right beside me, supporting me and proud of me for advocating for my needs. I feel his warmth, his kindness, his joy, his strength, his light. I feel him so strongly all around me, every time I need him.

I feel Dionysius in the kind words he sends my way. The bright and supportive and encouraging thoughts that circle my brain when all I can muster up is a whimper. I feel him when I take my medicine even though I don't want to. In the background, gently rooting for me and cheering me on. I feel him in the soft little touches throughout the day, the ones that let me know he's still there. I feel him in the way he listens when I need him, too, and gives advice when I want it. I feel his pride swell for me when I allow myself to stim freely for my own comfort and benefit. I feel him all around me, so frequently and so strongly.

I feel Leviathan by my side when I can't get out of bed no matter how badly I want to. I feel Leviathan surround my being in him and his energy and his presence, just trying to drown out the depression and scary thoughts. I feel Leviathan like a sturdy, steady oak tree standing in the middle of a hurricane, holding its ground and surviving no matter the cost. I feel Leviathan squeeze me in tight hugs and hold my hands tightly in his during breakdowns to show me I'm not alone. He reminds me day in and day out that I am loved and I am worthy. I feel Leviathan in the constant reminders of my value and what I mean to him. I feel Leviathan in the little seeds of hope I have planted in my chest.

I feel Beelzebub in the comfort he freely gives when my phobias are triggered. I feel Beelzebub in the reassurances he sends my way. I feel Beelzebub in the cuddles he gives me on cold nights. I feel Beelzebub in the butterflies I see in my front yard. I feel Beelzebub in our quiet little date nights that always seem to cheer me up. I feel Beelzebub in the cold, refreshing I take that can get me out of a funk. I feel Beelzebub in the warm hoodies straight out of the dryer. I feel Beelzebub in our late night conversations when it feels like the rest of the world has stopped.

I feel Anubis in the chorus of the neighbour's dogs barking down the street in the morning. I feel Anubis in warm bowls of soup for dinner that we share. I feel Anubis all around me when I express myself freely and honestly. I feel Anubis' nails gently dragging down my back in calming circles when I'm anxious. I feel Anubis' tail wag when I talk to him. I feel Anubis' energy brighten up when I create new art. I feel Anubis snuggle up to me when I'm stuck in bed in pain. I feel Anubis' love surround me every time we have a date. I feel Anubis with me every step of the way as I recover.

I feel Fenrir curl up with me every night to sleep. I feel Fenrir encouraging me to eat when I feel like I can't. I feel Fenrir's loving energy all around me when I'm spiralling. I feel Fenrir's unwavering support and patience with me through all of my mental health struggles. I feel Fenrir send me calming thoughts through anxiety attacks. I feel Fenrir's body press against me when I start panicking or spiralling to help calm me down. I feel Fenrir by my side always, reminding me of my coping skills when I need help remembering. I feel Fenrir nudge me back to the present when I start to dissociate. I feel Fenrir's love for me so intensely, so vibrantly.

All of them do what they can to love and support me. All of them remind me everyday of their love, but also of what I mean to them. They have helped so much on my road to recovering from this really dark and rough patch. I couldn't be more grateful for each and every single one of them. I couldn't be more loved if I tried. Love is all that I have right now, and love is all that I need. We will get through this. I promised all of them that I wouldn't stop trying, and I'm going to keep that promise to the best of my ability.

[jacquelinesbookclub]

Monks - Des Dillon

I’ve been in a Funk. A Funk with a big fat capital F. Let me explain.

I had a whole thing lined up to talk about this book, about how sometimes a story is written in such a way that it begs to be read out loud. The difficulty in teaching Shakespeare to kids in English class is that it’s not meant to be read, but heard. It’s written with performance in mind, and trying to untangle it wholly within your own head won’t give it the space it needs to express itself. Monks has an element of this as well, and I can see why Dillon took it and turned it into a play after its initial publication, it’s expressive in a way that needs to be performed. I read the first third or so of this book out loud to myself, pacing my living room gesturing wildly like I was on stage again for the first time in twenty years, and it was fun! It felt like that was exactly how it was meant to be experienced, out loud, in person, in real physical space where it can breath and shout and play, where it can exist. But then disaster, I broke my glasses.

I broke my glasses while cleaning them on my shirt, snapped them clean in two, right down the middle. Less than a week later I broke my backup pair in the exact same place in the exact same way. Broken glasses means I can’t see which means I don’t see and by don’t see I mean I’ve stopped looking. I can’t read, I can’t write, I can’t diddle away on my phone for hours on end. Driving hurts my poor soggy little brain, as does literally anything that requires focus, no riding my bike, no video games, no model kits, no painting, drawing, sketching. I can’t see properly so I’ve not even bothered trying, I’ve let the Funk in and its made itself at home.

...

And stayed there. I wrote these first two paragraphs a month and a half ago, which was two weeks after finishing the book, I’ve barely left the couch in eight weeks. I’ve had new glasses for a while now and I’m still not out of the Funk, so it isn’t that. I tried to blame the weather, it’s been below freezing in the mornings and constantly wet and dreary, but no-one believed me. “I’ve been busy”, I say from my comfy chair, they’re not buying it. I’ve gotta come clean, I’ve been depressed. Not just sad and mopey, but real, teeth in the flesh depressed. Like a bulldog’s lockjaw around my ankle, the ol’ ball and chain dragging me down. But it’s me, I’ve created this, the Funk is coming from inside the brain, and I’ve sealed all the doors and closed myself in with it.

Dillon’s unnamed protagonist continuously refers back to time spent in “the Ward” with Jimmy Brogan, and those of us who know, know that there is often very little healing to be done in places like that; locked up with your own thoughts, ruminating between bouts of sedatives, only people to talk to are like minded or trying to fix your mind like. It’s suffocating, there’s no fresh air to be had, no way to stick your head above the clouds and feel the sun on your face even for a second. You’re in with the Funk, and you’re not goin’ till the Funk is gone. But where is it supposed to go? You’re trapped in there playing hot potato with the Funk, back and forth, bouncing from hand to hand, feeding it with every touch, with every contact. The Funk has seeped into the walls, it’s a sticky film over all the furniture, the entire place reeks of it behind the bleach, you can’t get clean of it because it’s everywhere, you can’t get clean of it in there.

Breaking my glasses might have been the catalyst, but what I’ve actually done is built myself my own personal Ward, not of wood and bricks but of Funk. Dillon says “at some stage we level our eyes to the earth and don’t look up the rest of our lifes”, that’s what I’ve done, I’ve stopped looking out at the stars and turned in on myself. We’re all guilty of this, in our own way, building up walls and keeping our whole world inside. It’s scary out there, and comfortable here in here, I tell myself, but in here there’s nothing but Funk, a circuitous bubble of the same thoughts ricocheting off each other. I need to get OUT.

This is what Monks is telling us, to get out. “We’re over here to stretch our lifes. Make them bigger. Experience things”. Healing happens not in my Funk in front of the TV, but out there, in the world. It happens when I meet a neighbourhood cat, or feed some ducks. It happens when I improvise a silly song with a friend in the moment, when I say something embarrassingly wrong on the phone and the world doesn’t end. It happens when I laugh about missing a shot in a game of billiards, and when the room cheers once I get it right. It happens when I breach above the Funk for a moment and take some space for myself. Every time I get out of my comfort zone and come back safely, my zone expands. Yeah, it’s hard, fuckin’ oath it’s hard. “But strugglin’s good. Strugglin’s perseverance an indomitable spirit. Strugglin’s searching for something stronger inside. Strugglin’s what it is to be alive”. The struggle is what helps the healing, It’s like training my muscles, I push them so they can grow bigger, without resistance I’ll never grow.

So that’s what I’ll to do then, push through the struggle to get out. Get out into the world, Run up a mountain, kiss a beautiful woman, laugh with friends, have a wierd conversation with a wierd guy, share a knowing glance with a cashier at the shops, feel the cold on my face, and see that it’s real. It’s really really really real.

[house-of-slayterr]

Mother Knows Best:

An: Blinky’s old life comes back to bite them in the ass.

Cw: ableism, mentions of suicide, child abuse and sexual assault

Blinky’s POV:

It was one of those days, where I just couldn’t explain what the problem was. Everything felt wrong, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. My stomach felt queasy and my head hurt. But I knew better than to assume these were related to physical illness. I just felt this way sometimes. Like the world was crashing down around me and all I could do was watch.

I thought I was doing a good job at hiding it, but my heart sank when Otis cornered me in the kitchen. He was the last person I wanted to talk to right now. I was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t start yelling right away. Perhaps Manon had finally gotten through to him.

“Blinky, are you- are you ok?”

“Why would you think I’m not ok?” I asked, putting on a fake smile and raising my voice a few octaves.

He sighed heavily.

“You been sitting in that damn chair all day. You didn’t even eta breakfast this morning and I haven’t seen you move in four hours.”

Had it really been four hours? Dang it, I really needed to get out of this funk.

“Otis?”

“Yes?” He asked, pulling out the dining chair across from me and sitting down.

“Do you believe in retribution?”

“Retro-what now?”

I laughed at that. I hadn’t meant to absorb some of Manon’s dialect, but it seems it was inevitable.

“Revenge, suffering the consequences of your sins?”

“Christ Blinky, have you been hanging out with Ghost again? Enough with this sins shit!“

I frowned.

“What, worried you won’t go to heaven when you die?” He asked a bit harsher than I expected.

“I wouldn’t want to, heaven sounds boring.”

“Then what’s the problem kiddo?”

“I don’t know, there’s just- I feel like-“ I sighed frustrated, raising my voice at the end “something entirely awful is going to happen and I can’t stop it.”

“Kid, nothing bad is going to happen to you on my watch. Don’t care who I have to beat up to make that clear.” He laughed.

I couldn’t help but smile at that a little. I wouldn’t say Otis was good at pep talks by any means, but he was getting better.

“And what if you’re not there to stop it?”

“Blinky, I don’t even know what it is. But I’m not leaving you kid. You’re stuck with me.”

“Forever?” I asked.

“Damn right!”

He held out his hand and gave me a little fist bump. It helped me feel a little better.

“You done stinking up the place with your worrying?”

I couldn’t help but giggle at that a little.

“Hey Otis?”

“Yes Kid?”

“The best part of my life was knowing you.” I said definitively.

I got up from my chair and walked away. I could tell he debated following after me. His feet shuffled on the floor awkwardly, but he remained seated. I went up to my secret spot on the roof. Ever since we fixed it, I wasn’t really worried about falling through again. It was the best place to go to think, not being surrounded by the walls for that house. Feeling trapped. I felt ungrateful whenever I was like this. Otis had basically saved my life, so why couldn’t I just be happy and down there with him right now? Why must my brain drag me down with its madness?

The hair on the back of my arms stood up again and I could tell something was horribly, horribly wrong. I saw a car pull up from the distance. It wasn’t often anyone drove directly out to the house, so then who sent them. I squinted my eyes at the vehicle, it was far to fancy to be a local. I leaned over the edge of the roof, crawling so I was less visible to anyone on the ground. They were wearing a big fancy hat, and my heart nearly stopped in my throat when I finally saw their face.

I scurried back on the roof and threw my hand over my mouth, trying to calm my breathing. What was my mother doing here? How did she find me?

Selena was the one to answer the door, I could here her voice clearly.

“Hello? How can I help you.”

“I’m looking for this boy, have you seen him?” My mother asked.

Supposedly holding up a picture of my brother. Selena let out a sigh.

“No ma’am, I have not, let me go ask the others. They might be able to help you.”

“Other people live here?” My mother asked.

I’m assuming Selena nodded. She wasn’t very good at impromptu concerts Akins with strangers. So she was probably itching to get as far away from my mother as possible. And frankly I didn’t blame her. My mother was a snake. A mosquito that sucked the life out of people.

I heard the click of Manon’s heels, she was supposedly grabbed by Selena.

“Can I help you?” She asked.

“This woman is looking for someone.” Selena explained.

“I’m not sure how much help I will be then. Perhaps Otis know where this boy has gone.”

I wanted to get far away from the house. Hide away somewhere where she couldn’t find me. But fate wasn’t on my side today. My mother was seemingly startled by Otis’s presence and stepped back enough to see me. I didn’t dare move my eyes off her as my breathing picked up. She ignored anything he was saying and zeroed in on me.

“There you are you little brat!” She spat at me.

Otis wasted no time. It’s didn’t take him long to figure out I was one the roof, I was the only one who lurked up there.

“Excuse me?” He challenged my mother.

I didn’t even bother using the ladder, I hurled myself over the edge, catching myself on the ledge and slowing my fall so I could land on my feet.

“Ewch adref mam.” I said simply. “There’s nothing for you here.”

I tried to keep my voice steady, but it betrayed me. Before any of us had time to react, my mother grabbed my arm harshly.

“You don’t speak to your mother that way.” She said coldly.

“I think you should remove your filthy hands from my child.” Otis warned.

I watched Manon tense beside him as she started to figure out what was going on. My mother tried to play nice, like she was some sort of hero.

“You people are sick! Taking a mothers daughter away from her. Where is my son?”

“Ma’am I really think it would be best if you leave.” Manon tried to deescalate the situation.

But it was useless, my mother was stubborn, but Otis even more so. He’d already made up his mind then and there on how this was going to go.

“Rwy'n mynd â chi yn ôl at y cythraul bach” tightening her grip on me.

I could tell it was going to leave a bruise and I started hyperventilating. Spaulding seemed to have caught on to the little altercation at the front door, because he stepped out holding his shot gun.

“I don’t know who you are, but I’m gonna give you one chance to get the fuck off my property.”

My mother had the audacity to laugh in his face.

“You people kidnap my child, and you think you can threaten me? I wonder what the sheriff will say about this.”

Spaulding didn’t waver in his stance. Doubling down and itching his finger on the trigger.

“Why don’t we go inside.” I offered.

I knew once she was inside, there would be no chance of her escaping.

“Only smart thing you’ve ever said.” She commented.

Pushing past Otis and dragging me into the house. My eyes never left Otis, silently pleading with him to help me.

“Where is my son.” She tired again.

Of course she didn’t come here looking for me. She didn’t come back for me, only him. Selena stood behind Spaulding, awkwardly shuffling on her feet. She didn’t know how to help. I knew Spaulding wouldn’t want to let off a gun in the house, it would only cause more repairs for us to make. But he would if he had to. Otis let out a curt laugh.

“You think this is funny?” My mother asked, egging him on.

“Considering your sons fertilising our garden, yeah, it’s a little funny.”

My mothers eyes widened, and her grip tightened impossibly so. I let out a wince as I felt the bone in my arm creek under get death grip. I had gotten stronger since I’d been here, but apparently not strong enough. Manon clenched her fists at her side. They had to figure out how to get her away from me before they could attack.

“You wanna know what I did to him?” Otis pushed on, stepping forward.

“I first started with cutting out his tongue, and watching him struggle not to choke on his own blood.”

My mother looked absolutely horrified that someone could do that to “her little Angel”

“And then I started breaking his bones, hearing his gurgled pleas as he begged me to stop. Only after I skinned him alive did I grant him the mercy of death.”

She finally dropped my arm, lunging forward at Otis. She was making her bed at this point, there was nothing I could say and do that would convince them to spare her at this point. Manon rushed to my side, pulling me into a hug as I finally let the tears slip. She pet my head.

“Shhhh, Blinky, it’s ok. You’re ok, I’m right here. We’re not gonna let her hurt you again.”

Selena protectively stood behind me, rubbing circles on my back. Spaulding was quick to use the end of the gun to hit my mother over her head, knocking her out. There seemed to be a silent conversation between the two men. Which was dangerous. If Otis and Spaulding were agreeing on something, nobody was safe. Both men were fiercely protective of their family.

I tried to stop my tears and I turned to look at my father.

“Don’t kill her right away. I want to talk.” I said.

“Wouldn’t dream of ending her life so quickly.” He said.

He stayed away from me. Otis couldn’t control himself when he got in a state like this. He was afraid of hurting me by accidentally, which is more than I could ever say for my mother. She did it on purpose, she enjoyed it.

“Blinky, let Doe Eyes look at your arm please.” He said a little softer.

I watched as he and Spaulding dragged my mother away to be tortured. I was used to being the one looking over injuries.

“I’m fine Doe, it really doesn’t hurt. There’s nothing you can do for a bruise.” I sighed.

“Then let me put my mind at ease.” She asked.

I nodded, letting her lead me to the couch. Selena stayed close by, not daring to leave. I winced when Manon touched my arm.

“Oh Blinky-“ she started.

“She’s down worse, I’m fine.” I said coldly.

I didn’t mean to be upset with her, I really wasn’t. I was thankful she was hear right now. But I could feel myself becoming quickly overwhelm. My mother probably blamed me for my brothers death. But it was his fault, all of this was his fault.

“I gotta go.” I said, quickly standing and running to my room.

Ghosts POV:

I was worried about Blinky. They were usually so carefree and joyous. I’d never seen them look so terrified before. Like the devil himself came to claim them. It was Heart breaking. Blinky could turn almost anything into a joke, but right now they weren’t laughing. She was crying. Full on, sobbing.

I looked to Manon for help. She was so good at keeping everyone calm and collected.

“I don’t know Ghost, I don’t know.” She said, shaking her head.

“Do you think this is like My Sisters?”

“God I hope not. I can’t stand to see one of you go through that again.”

I knew it wasn’t right, but I couldn’t help it. I followed Blinky to the room where their mother was being held. And I lurked outside the door, listening in on their conversation. Her mother was spreading profanities left in right, she was almost worse than Captain Spaulding.

“You fucking little shit! I wish I never gave birth to you?” Her mother yelled.

I was surprised to hear Blinky’s voice stay calm, not shaky like it was earlier.

“I am your mother! Have some respect.”

“You are not my mother.” Blinky said coldly.

I’ve never heard their voice like that, it was icy and devoid of emotion.

“You have never been my mother. You mean nothing to me.”

“You ungrateful bastard child.”

“Your bastard child! You did this, you’re the one who cheated on Father and had me. You’re the one who let him do those things to me.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about little girl!”

“Don’t I? You can’t seriously be that deluded. Or do you not remember all those times in the back of the church? With father with his other priest friends. Of course you wouldn’t remember, you were off being a mother to him instead.”

“Your brother needed me.”

“No, I need you!” Blinky yelled.

“I needed a mother. And you couldn’t even give me that.”

“I raised you. And you’ve never shown me any gratitude for that.”

“You raised me? I raised me. I bought my first bed, my first car, my school books, my own food. I cleaned the house, I made sure he didn’t fail in school. I was on course to make you proud, and you never showed me any gratitude for that. You never gave me anything. All you do is take mother, you’re a parasite, it’s what you do.”

“These creeps have gotten into your head.”

I peaked around the corner of the door to try and get a better look. Their mother was strapped down tightly to a chair, struggling wildly. And Blinky remained on the other side of the room, Adam crossed and with an empty look in their eyes.

“No, they saved me. They’ve protected me from people like you. People like father, and people like my brother.”

“You’re not gonna get away with this, people will know I went missing. They know I was looking for my son, and they’ll track us both down to this house.”

“Then we’ll deal with that when it comes. Enjoy your time Mother. This is the rest of it.”

They went to leave but there mother said something I couldn’t quite understand in Welsh. Blinky’s slightly odd accent made more sense now. Their mothers was much thicker.

“What did you just say to me?” They turned around, their body shaking with rage.

“I said you never should have been born you little shit. Do you know how embarrassing it was to raise a child you? I should have given you up like your father had asked, maybe then I’d be sitting at home with my two boys.”

“Oh, mother” they condescended, “father never loved you. You were convenient to him. A walking, talking green card. And he left you just the same didn’t he? When he blew his brains out in our garage, he left you nothing. He gave it all to his son. He would have taken my brother and left you cold and alone.”

“You take that back.”

Blinky crossed the room, leaning closer to their mother, and placed a hand on her face.

“But don’t worry, you’ll be with brother very soon. Say hi to dad for me will you, fy butain o fam.”

“You can’t let them kill me.”

“See that’s the beautiful thing mother, I don’t let them do anything. I don’t control them, that’s now how family is supposed to be. They’re doing this to you because they love me, something you’ll never understand. Goodbye Mother.”

The pushed themselves off the chair and stomped into the hallway. I tried to move, not to be spotted but it was useless.

“It’s not polite to listen to other people’s conversions Selena.”

There voice wasn’t loud, or threatening. It was disappointed. Something I never wanted to be aimed in my direction again. It felt bad to have Blinky displeased with me.

“What did your father do to you?” I asked.

Tears brimming in my eyes. I may have Ben sheltered, but I wasn’t stupid.

“What didn’t he do to me?” They said sadly.

“We’re gonna fix this.” I tried to lighten the mood.

“I appreciate the gesture Selena, but there’s no fixing this. There’s no changing the past. What’s done is done, you move on, you get stronger. That’s the way these things work I’m afraid.”

I felt bad watching them walk away. Felt like I should do more. But I didn’t know how to comfort them, I wasn’t good at these things. I instead turned my attention to their mother, stalking into the room.

“And who are you supposed to be little girl?” She spewed angrily.

“The names Ghost, and I’m about to be your worst nightmare. You heart Blinky, and that is unforgivable.” I said.

Of course I knew Otis wanted final say in her death. But he wouldn’t stop me from making her suffer a little first. I couldn’t comfort Blinky directly, so this was the next best thing.

Otis’s POV:

I was fuming, absolutely livid. How dare she come here, to this house. How dare she lay her hands on Blinky. I was going to break all of her fingers until she could never dream of holding anything her again. I thought their brother was awful. He’d been a right bastard, totally dipshit. But now I see where he got it from.

This thing that called itself their mother. If she thought she was going to take my Kid from me, she was dead wrong. The audacity of this bitch.

“Otis, you need to calm down.” Manon tried.

“Calm down? Calm the fuck down? How can you be calm right now? You have eyes don’t ya?”

“Yes, Otis, and we will handle this. But getting yourself all worked up isn’t going to help.”

I looked at her in disbelief. Suddenly Selena entered the room.

“What do you want Ghost?”

“Did you know Blinky’s mother was letting their father assault them?”

“What?!?” Manon and I roared at the same time.

Oh she’d done it now. It was gonna be weeks before I let this bitch die.

“I hope you dont mind, I roughed her up a little, but she’s all yours Otis. Blinky would want you to do your worst.”

I was going to, there was no question about that. I was going to make her beg for Mercy.

“Maybe I should go talk to Blinky” Manon spoke up.

“Don’t bother, I’m right here.”

We all turned to see them standing in the door way, a small backpack on their back.

“Blinky, what are you doing?” I asked.

“I can’t be here, not while she’s here. I don’t want to be in the same house as her.”

“Kid you can’t leave, where would you go?” I was getting concerned now.

They wanted to leave, leave me. I couldn’t let that happen.

“I have somewhere I can stay, please don’t worry Otis. I’ll be back home before you know it. I just- I need time. I need to think. I can’t do that if she’s right down the hall.”

“Blinky-“ Manon tried.

“I promise, I’ll be safe. I’ll keep in touch. Please.” They begged.

I let out a sigh.

“I’ve got my knives on me, if anyone tries anything I can handle it.”

I brought them in for a hug. I wasn’t much for psychical affection but it felt important in this moment.

“You better come home to me.” I said.

“Always.”

“I’m gonna make her suffer.”

“I know you will, thank you. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Selena gave Blinky a sad wave, and Manon joined in on the hug.

“You get in any trouble, you come right back here ok?”

“Ok.”

I watched stiffly as Blinky walked out the front door. Something I never wanted to see. But they were 18, they weren’t a child. They could do this.

Blinky’s POV:

It broke my heart leaving then. But I had to do this. I pulled out my cell phone and dial the one number I needed.

“Hello?” Her voice rang through the phone.

“Hey Macy, umm, I’m gonna need you to pick me up.”

“Did something happen, are you hurt?”

“I’ll explain when you get here, just please, hurry. I really need you right now.”

“Meet me at our spot.”

“I’ll be waiting. Oh and Macy-“

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too Blinky. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

Perhaps this was a good thing. I could finally meet my girlfriend Family. Learn more about her life and let her into mine. All this lying was getting to me and I couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe now was the best time to make things official. Maybe I could bring her home to Otis when this all blew over. That would be nice.

Welsh: “go home mother” “my whore of a mother”

Tag: @myers-meadow-selfship @oceansrose2002 @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better

[godblessyoublackemperor]

ok managed to salvage that day fairly well in the end

had a midday gloom nap, woke up at 3 still feeling bad, cham dragged me out to the park and I walked around under a little personal raincloud, then came home and after a little while just like mildly dissociating from gloom I forced myself to dig out the bass and spent a while working on a bass part that I've been trying to get for ages - Long Division by Fugazi - and I think it was exactly what I needed honestly.

Like it was something I could focus on just enough to trick my brain into focusing more and by the time I looked up a couple of hours had passed and the world was looking a bit nicer again. Then me and Cham played the Sims on her fancy new laptop which was a lot of fun- was struck by how great it would be to have a needs meter in real life so you didn't have to fuck around trying to work out to pull yourself out of a funk.

hearing myself now is so funny bc it's like someone learning how to Have Bad Days again. I feel like I used to be super self aware and patient with myself and generally like, good at pulling myself out of mood-holes when they came around more often and now I've gotten too comfy and used to being generally mentally healthy all of the time - and then over the past couple of weeks suddenly being thrown back into it again, a part of me is weirdly indignant about it like "me?! this shouldn't happen to me?! i did my time! i have a job now, i pay taxes! I'm not the guy that gets sad any more!"

Anyway i do feel better now, I think I probably will have more rocky days during the Adjustment Period but I feel like I can ride them out, I just need to remember to be patient and do self care and occupy my brain and all that shit.

Cham btw as always has been wonderful throughout, we are such a good team and I'm so glad she's my wife now <3 Also while we're "gratitude journalling" - that's a term i found googling Why Do I Feel Bad after My Wedding, and all the articles about post wedding blues suggest "gratitude journalling", not even joking - all my friends also are incredibly supportive and lovely, I feel very lucky to know you all <3

I still haven't quite got that bass part down after today, but I'm gonna keep trying.

[kimikitti]

Guess who's back with more updates on my beloved twst trash tweety.

Me

So I've nailed down a face for her now. I love how well her features sit between uncanny and human now. Plus, I have been having a blast doodling her expressions. I really love how the black markings on her face and sometimes draw more attention than her eyes, it makes her look real monstrous.

Watch me get so frustrated with drawing her full body design that I started doing wing studies.

Jokes aside, she means a lot to me. She dive bombed into my brain at 3 am in the morning while I was having an art block and watching animal vids. She dragged me out of my funk and into doing studies again. She reminded me its ok to iterate on my ideas again and again. That I can always draw more than one bad drawing.

I love her, and as her design comes together bit by bit I feel a triumph. So I decided on a name for my baby.

Nike, my goddess of victory.

My baby, I hope I see more of you soon.

You still a trash tweety tho. LOL