maladaptivewritings

[maladaptivewritings]

here’s the closeted furries “hey man… can u bum me a cig” and “the one uncle nobody invites to the family reunion but SOMEONE keeps telling him where it is anyways”

if you want an idea of what john is like, imagine hau from pokemon sumo

ALSO the ppl who kept asking me for trans thomas art, HERE he’s trans in this au (; 

ft John:

[maladaptivewritings]

My Journey to Escape the War in Gaza

My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.

The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.

I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.

Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.

I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.

Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.

Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.

Vetted by @gazavetters

[maladaptivewritings]

Needing someone to light a joint or cig and smirk, a need from kind eyes that shine from their lighter.

The cravings to hear a low voice that'll shake me as you take the first inhale and muscles relax and worries roll away.

"Y'know smokin' is bad?"

"And you're lighting it nonetheless,"

I want to hear them stall off laughter as the words escape them, knowing they have that lighter for a reason. The mutual bond of smokers sat outside, pale moonlight clashed against the embers light.

Could you blame them as they'd stare at like you're some meek creature. The few times that a cough escape, a smile will soon follow. I need kisses filled with intoxicated lust, the coy moments that spillover when you're finally left alone.

Escaping the party that neither of you wished to join in,

A spare bathroom

Hands tracing the others as smoke filled kisses travel your body. their eyes hold you in this moment, nothing outside of that door exists. Your eyes rolling as calloused hands meet soft flesh. Never allowing respite as you pray a knock never comes.

Soon you'll simply have a number scribbled on your chest, a hope that this dark eyed stranger will return to your bed at some point. You meet your friends, too drunk to realize your frazzled state and follow them back home.

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶drabble⋆✶⋆.˚꩜ .

[maladaptivewritings]

Yall when this morvie drops, get used to this mans SLUTTY LIL GLASSES

Jonathan Bailey as Dr. Henry Loomis — Jurassic World Rebirth (2025) dir. Gareth Edwards

[maladaptivewritings]

If I write a y/n who's in the military. Please know this is the vibe

Neurodivergent assassin who very casually uses their weapons as stim.

Turning on and off the safety of their gun. Tapping and spinning their dagger. Watching the poison in the vial move as they flip in and then back.

Nobody says anything because...well they're an assassin.

Turns on safety, presses trigger, turns off safety repeat.

People around them are in constant fear.

Chewing the end of their poison tipped dagger when they try to figure out a plan.

Wash their hands too much cause they don't like how sticky blood is.

However overtime it becomes a weird single to others.

Everyone is anxious trying to figure something out and they hear a little "click click" and it's just slightly calming to know that they have this person there and they are thinking of a plan.

Someone hands them a drink but it flows just a little too weird and they are like, "hmm that's poison" then chuck it because they have built up immunity.

No table that doesn't have something carved into it.

Never a situation where they don't have enough bullets because this person takes out the cartridge and puts it back as stim.

They take apart their guns and put them back over time being crazy fast and efficient with it.

Just give me a neurodivergent assassin/spy.

[maladaptivewritings]

His eyes are locked on you, neither body wanting to move. The moment paused as he attempt to find a way to convince you that this man in your home is not a threat. Hell, how he'd say in less than an hour it'd be filled with more.

He watches the baseball bat in your hand, smart bird, you had a sock on it. His eyes taking in the giant shirt you wore, and with how you held your weapon... cute.

He looks like everything you'd fear waking up to, your drunk night in now leading you to this. You kept asking yourself if you manifested this watching those horror movies. You keep your ground, hoping he somehow will become fearful of someone nearly a foot shorter.

Doe eyes staring daggers at the predatory figure that lurked hidden in the shadows of your home.

"Come out..." Voice hoarse from bar, your attempt to be strong was paired with weak knees.

"Can't" His voice rattled you, he shifted his weight as his words escaped him.

God you wanted to just walk off, like this was all one bad dream. You knew better; You were stubborn and just paid your rent .

"Look, go upstairs...we won't bother love" His eyes saw the wave of hesitance cross your face.

"We?"

'Fuck' The thought rang across both of your minds as he spoke.

You came at him, bat in hand.

He just knocked you down, brute-force as you hit the floor. The shaggy rug barely helped your fall.

He leaned down, his gaze not just a assumption as his onyx eyes met your own. The old and worn Baklava hiding the rest of him, his slow blinking eyes analyzed you. He could check how far out his team was, try to leave you be and hope that you'd remember it all as a bad dream.

It was too late for that, as you sat dumbfounded and drunk in front of him. He leaned down and scooped you over his shoulder.

"Timeout" He chuckled to himself as he walked you upstairs and searched for a room to lock you in. He had less than a half-hour before his men arrived as he tossed you into your bedroom.

Fear took hold, reasonably as you were thrown onto your bed. Preparing the fight for your life, you were quickly proven wrong. This amassing figure grabbed a remote turned on a movie and looked back at you. Your eyes glossy

"You'll be staying in 'er, and quiet alright?" Nodding he left the room, you heard more enter and leave through the night. Men rambling about something or someone.

You listened though, and you sat watching some dumb movie until you fell asleep.

Irked about the mess, Ghost after the incident bitched out intel for giving a wrongfully assessed estate. He ensured that the house remained as it was when he had left, hoping you'd assume it'd just be a dream.

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

wip

[maladaptivewritings]

König's Favorite

pt 1

You are König's favorite private, a debatable statement to who you may ask; after his fun in the interrogation room he tasks you with aiding him in the clean-up. Well what happens if he lets you in to his own world.

Tw: General C.O.D things; military, torture, *prolonged* eye contact, blood/gore mentions, weaponry, war crimes? war crimes. Slow-Burn, co-workers to lovers, power imbalance

The rust smell permeated from the drain as you tried to ignore his request; the sense of his gun-metal eyes watching over you unrelenting. This was habitual for him, seeing how you clean his messes. The words that finally escape him seem unnatural in tone as his steps further into the pale room.

"Would be nice to have a fresh set of ... ideas." His words enticing you, his tone implying a smile under his mask.

"I'm sure you have plenty of concepts Colonel," You try to dissuade him, keeping your focus on the task at hand as he approached like the predator he knew he was. "I'd never stomach it..."

Your voice trailed off as the task finally finished and the rotten smell of burnt flesh finally leaving you as you attempted to squeeze past the wall of a man in front of you. His eyes locked in on you, sickly fascinated by the way your body moved as you walked across. He was quick to see the way you tried to hide yourself from his stares.

You were in a small unit, never believing that you would actually meet the colonel, nor would you ever catch his attention like this. You didn't understand the depths of what he would situations he'd create to observe you.

He leaned against the wall, blocking your escape. Seating yourself upon the lone chair in the room, you knew he had some speal to give.

"Y/N, you're willing to refuse promotion for....a personal preference?" He jeered, arms crossed as he meandered further into the concrete room.

His tone was never truly kind or soft, but at this moment he seemed almost hurt. You shook your head, clearing your thoughts in the process.

"I just think some people would just be.. better I guess." You took another step in fleeted escape. You know better, hating the room from the task of cleaning itself.

He just watches, eyes following as you awkwardly shimmy out of the room. He could stop you, it'd be so easy, but he shrugged soon following you.

"Ah, you doubt yourself," He said trailing behind you. Egging you on as the two of you walk.

He wanted to see the damage you could do, if he had to be the first example so be it.

"Trust me maus, you'll be great." He leaned down and spoke into your ear. The hushed tone running down your spine, his predatory stare making every nerve fire.

You should run, your body screams and you neglect to listen as you halt your steps.

[maladaptivewritings]

Fun fact I am a filthy fan of homestuck. Yall thought I was some normal fic writer in normal fandoms...

*loud buzzer*

WRONG

[maladaptivewritings]

"developing country" is not a great term but if people insist on using it i demand we also use "undeveloping country." for example I'm from the u.s. and my country is currently in a state of undevelopment

[maladaptivewritings]

Being the only female in 141, but not in the 12 year old wattpadd writer “they all wanna fuck me uwu” way…

cute lil drabble (im sleep deprives as hell)

wc: 243

These men have no idea how to do the most basic tasks, taking care of themselves be damned.

They looked at you like they saw a ghost the first time you sat down with something on your plate that wasn’t a can of corn, beans, tuna or MRE’s. Holy shit, you’re eating from a plate, love!

And it was like you grew three heads when you wiped the table after Gaz spilled water, why didn’t you let it dry? Or that time you had to broom the dead mice out of the safe house. We could have lain down next to them, sweetheart! Oh when you made dinner for them? You won their hearts…

This wasn’t about gender roles, no, you weren’t doing this because you had to. You weren’t the problem for doing it, they were the problem for being so fucking dumb.

“Are you lot some sort of loyalty as in riches, or fucking rags?”

“Wha’?” Simon blurts.

“Are you this incompetent because you’ve never done anything and people did shit for you your entire life, or are you completely useless?” The genuineness in your voice is a shock factor itself, enough to make the captain’s eyebrows raise.

“Lass, are you okay—“

“Soap, you just told me you’ve never held a broom in your life.”

One time, Gaz was cleaning ketchup from the table with rounded motions, smearing it over the table. Your breath hitched. “GARRICK!”

They’re nervous around you since.

Check out my masterlist!

check out my recent post!

[maladaptivewritings]

First time streaming went like this:

Chat: are you launching a jet in your room?

Me: ...Thats my computer

Chat: Pour water on it.

[maladaptivewritings]

Hey, yall, wanna see me while I write your fanfic or yap about shit with me? I'm on Twitch now as CallBug313, so yeah, follow if ya want!

[maladaptivewritings]

HEADS UP

Im finding ai videos being made for marketing, watch the mouths of some of the stuff you watch especially if it is marketing something.

Ive seen one for wedding planning

one for a hair treatment

i fucking hate ai, so keep a close eye

[maladaptivewritings]

Lots of thoughts recently. Everything feels plastic.

I could go on and on about why all that AI "art" is bad. I could mention theft, lack of creativity, it's impact on the work field and environment, but countless people have already said all that. I wanted to touch on something that to me is the most utterly wrong about all of it.

Art is more than just something pretty to look at or listen to. It's therapeutic. It's a form of communication. A tool for human connection. It's a pure, human need.

Support real artists ☀️

[maladaptivewritings]

[guy with the Cant Focus Disorder] why the fuck can't I focus

[maladaptivewritings]

[maladaptivewritings]

living on my campus be like:

starting a collection #blackmold