#// i am a very single-minded person i get attached to one thing and then DO NOT LET GO

[yeonban]

I might be ~quirky~ for this (welcome to my twisted mind and etc) but I genuinely have so much fun with shipping nowadays, ever since I chose to be singleship for each muse. I feel like my adhd has never allowed me to pour even half as much care and attention into a ship as I'd have loved to when I had multiple ones at the same time per muse, so being able to focus on a single romantic dynamic per muse really feels like a weight off my shoulders

[hellguarded-moved]

// btw i just wanna say i've always been huge on continuity. and i value each and every interaction, so you can be sure that if ig has met your muse, they're somewhere in his memory, they've made some sort of impression. while his story is still steadily evolving in the background for the most part, you can be sure your muse has had some effect on him on way or another.

[spitdrunken]

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

[jaspvids]

The Diagnosis Of David

Disclaimer: I am by no means a mental health professional. This is just a meta-analysis.

What do we think of when we think of David?

His values of kindness. Optimism. Hope. Conviction. Passion. His drive to do his best every single day. The way he always makes an effort to reach out to others.

But also:

Attachment issues. People pleaser. Rose-colored glasses wearer. And at times, though the fandom doesn’t want to acknowledge it — Selfish. Unstable. Rude. Hypocritical. Kind of a dick.

See this video I made;

He’s complex, so let’s try to unpack him, and figure out what he’s got going on under that floof.

On David’s Childhood

David has been through a number of traumatic events in his childhood, most notably:

Witnessing Jasper fall to his near-death.

Finding Jasper, and being almost mauled by bears during the escape.

Clown school was apparently very bad, given the flashback-like reaction he had when it was mentioned. I’m unsure of his age when this occurred, however.

The fight with Jasper at the cave before they parted ways.

Losing Jasper. He says Cameron told him he was picked up by his parents, but I’m not convinced it’s not just his mind trying to erase painful memories.

As far as what we don’t necessarily see in the show, but can infer, David’s father was either not present or not great. He dreamt Cameron was his real father, as seen below.

And we all know Cameron is an awful father figure to begin with.

Yet, that’s better to David, apparently, than whatever he had at home. Which implies it was likely a pretty bad situation.

This can also be backed up by his attachment to the camp — growing up (and even now) it seems to be more of a home to him than his actual home.

That’s a home that hasn’t ever been mentioned, by the way. Contrary to Gwen, we know absolutely nothing about his family. He hasn’t talked about them once, if I recall correctly.

David is often open with emotions, if not wearing his heart on his sleeve. So why would he never mention his family and home?

We know why.

Even as an adult, he has retained this attachment to Cameron (who has in turn, continued to use this attachment to his benefit). He gets very excited about helping Cameron change in “keep the change” — because he needs to believe people who hurt him can get better. Otherwise, it’s too painful to bear.

The Loss Of Jasper

Part of his childhood, but significant enough to warrant its own section.

Jasper and David had a very interesting relationship. We’ve seen in the past that David was pessimistic, foulmouthed, and hot-tempered, directly compared to an optimistic, peppy, popular Jasper.

But then Jasper saw Cameron’s real self, and David received a modicum of praise for what was likely the first time based on his reaction. And so, they basically did somewhat of a switcheroo.

(David takes on many traits of Jasper after this experience, showing that he does admire him at the end of the day. I believe these traits are the foundation of David’s many masks.)

Despite the whole shebang, further episodes show us that they form a strong bond (or maintain one, we don’t know what happened before the first Jasper and David episode.)

What makes this friendship especially crucial in David’s development is that I believe Jasper was the first person to truly stand up for David.

David is, as we have seen, easily manipulated. Jasper picks up on this, and knowing Cameron’s just trying to use his best friend, tries to take Cameron down.

Jasper essentially died trying to protect David.

If Jasper hadn’t died, I don’t think David would have ended up as gullible and dependent as he is. If he had the more rational and realistic Jasper by his side during the rest of his developmental years, I believe things would have ended up much, much differently.

With Jasper’s death, there seems to be nobody else at camp who knows of Cameron’s crimes, or possibly, doesn’t want to speak out about them. Nobody to stand up for him. Nobody to redirect him.

So there’s nobody to stop the unhealthy-attachment-train from picking up speed.

Cameron And David’s Relationship

Cameron is manipulative and abusive towards David. This even becomes physical:

Despite this, David continues to idolize him as is seen in many cases of abuse. He works his ass off maintaining Cameron’s camp. Cameron’s approval makes or breaks him, because this is the man he sees as a father, unfortunately.

In addition, David is unable to let go of the hope that Cameron can change, because he’s convinced himself that deep down Cameron is still “good”, based on his skewed perception of him. And we all know how that ended.

But as Diane from Bojack Horseman once said —

And that is David’s problem — he wants so much for there to be a “deep down”, that there will be a day where Cameron showers him with praise and throws signed adoption forms at him, etcetera.

He judges Cameron not on who he actually is, but who he wants him to be. And so, the unhealthy attachment remains.

(Which is, of course, incredibly destructive to his mental health.)

Other Things We Know About His Mental Health, From Canon

We know he takes meds.

We know he has (sometimes dissociative) panic attacks.

We know he has been seen to suddenly snap, even to the point of violence.

My Final Conclusion: C-PTSD

(As the trauma has been not just one event, but many over the course of his life, and among other reasons, I believe CPTSD fits better than PTSD.)

David meets much of the criteria, most notably:

Lack of emotional regulation

Dissociation

Flashbacks

Anxiety

Guilt and shame

Distorted perception of abuser

Relationship difficulties

Okay this was long I’m tired good night.

[thewertsearch]

We should hurry this along. My visitor is beginning to set things on fire. […] TT: Who? Some guy. I was joking anyway. I am not in a hurry at all.

You said you should hurry, which is different from saying that you're in a hurry.

If the Alpha Timeline decrees that this conversation will be rushed, then it's still accurate to say it 'should' be hurried, even if Scratch isn't personally pushed for time.

TT: I thought you didn't lie. TT: Aren't jokes essentially humorous lies? Jokes are only temporary lies. If the falsehood is never exposed, there is no punchline. If the punchline is never delivered, the lie is sealed forever, regardless of initial humorous intent.

And this is just bullshit.

First of all, admitting that you lied doesn't retroactively negate the lie. That's not how any of this works. Scratch is just unilaterally deciding that falsehoods only 'count' when they're permanent, a rule he pulled completely out of his foamy ass.

Even if we accept his premise - which I don't - he could still wait arbitrarily long before revealing his falsehood, so that Rose doesn't realize she's been played until it's too late. This definition doesn't meaningfully restrict him from lying, and I think it's purely designed to confuse Rose.

[…] Lies are not funny. TT: I think if you're going to risk tarnishing your record of honesty, you should probably get better material. My joke was objectively funny. Who would know better than I?

And these? These are opinions, which don't have objective truth values. There are so many strings attached to Scratch’s ‘I don't lie’ shtick, I could knit him a better outfit.

Not that it matters, because Rose is in too deep. She's not going to back out now, no matter how suspicious this guy is.

TT: So you're saying an inaccurate statement doesn't count as a lie, as long as you say "just kidding" later? Basically. TT: What if it's much later? Is it still "just a joke?" No, that would be something closer to a prank.

I appreciate that Rose is trying, but her language is still too imprecise. Scratch is immortal, and it's impossible to know what ‘much later’ means to him. For god's sake, he's having this conversation in a single extended second! Give us some hard numbers, fucker!

TT: Are you allowed to lie about playing pranks? If I asked you if you were playing a prank on me, would you tell the truth? I am allowed to do whatever I want. I choose never to lie. I also choose to tell jokes now and then, and to play pranks quite sparingly.

See, the trap Rose is falling into is that she’s buying into the premise of the game. She's delving deep into the intricacies of Scratch's rules, and in the process, has completely forgotten to be skeptical of the guy who's explaining them.

Scratch tailors his manipulation style to whoever he's talking to - and if anyone's susceptible to a nerd-snipe, it's the Seer of Light.

But I can say that I have never played a prank on you, and no statement I have made to you thus far, or will make in this conversation, will contain any trace of falsehood for the sake of setting up a joke or a prank, with the exception of the joke I just made, and another one I will make very soon.

Like – let’s take this statement as an example. We could review the entire conversation with it in mind, and try to puzzle out where the setup for Scratch’s second ‘joke’ is, if it exists at all. Rose is probably doing exactly that – and in the process, has completely forgotten that he just said that he’s fully capable of lying.

He’s literally telling her to her face that he’s deceiving her, but she's too caught up in his games to pay attention. This is what it means to play with your cards face up, and it’s as impressive as it is terrifying.

TT: I'm starting to change my mind. Oh? TT: Yes. I think your joke was funny in retrospect. Actually, your whole shtick is pretty good. I'm warming up to it.

It’s great! He’s a good villain! He’s a puppet who’s got everyone else tied up in strings!

[riboism]

man who can’t be moved

》 pairing: j.yh x f!reader

》 genre: angst, smut, some fluff

》 content: college student!reader, college student! yunho, no strings attached, hookups, reader is kind of a player, some mentions of reader’s ex (it didn’t end well),  lots of denial, lots of emotions, big dick yunho, creampie, clit play, angry sex, am i missing anything?

》 wc: 6.4k

》 a/n: thank you to the person who requested this! this got me out of my writers block. I hope you like it :)

♫ playlist: flook- hector gachan, evergreen- omar apollo, frío- omar apollo, broken love- gemini, man who can’t be moved- the script

Yunho stood outside your apartment door, holding onto a box that contained your possessions. He could smell the rosy scent of the shampoo that you left in his shower. He had spent all morning collecting your belongings into this box, proud that he finally made an effort to be rid of you once and for all. But that rosy smell, that same scent that he’d wake up to after you spent the night was making him second guess himself. No, stop it, he said to himself. Just stick to the plan Yunho. 

The plan was simple. Yunho would go to your apartment after work and knock on your door, fully aware that you probably weren’t home. You were most likely at San’s or Yeosang’s place right now, getting shit-faced drunk and having sweaty sex on their beat-up couches, head too fuzzy in bliss to even spare a single thought about him. But he thought he would knock anyway, just as a courtesy. He’d wait for ten seconds, and when you don’t answer, he’d shrug in a “welp, I tried” kind of way before placing the box on your doorstep. He’ll take a deep breath while looking at your door that he knew all too well one last time and then head towards the stairwell exit, with his head held high, showing no intention of turning back.

Yunho was partly to blame for the way things ended, and he knew that. You made yourself very clear in the beginning. “Listen Yunho, you’re really sweet,” You said after he confessed to you all those months ago at the campus library where you two first met, “But I’m not looking for anything serious. I don’t really do relationships. You get what I mean?”

He knew exactly what you meant. ‘Dating’ was an ancient term. Nobody ‘dated’ anymore. What replaced this archaic social practice were one-night stands, situation-ships, friends with benefits, hookups, etc. No one wanted a ‘serious’ relationship anymore because that meant having to give your mind, body, and soul to someone, and why bother with all that when you can just give them one of the three? 

Even though most of his peers shared the same sentiment as you when it came to relationships, Yunho didn’t agree with it at all. Maybe he was old-fashioned for wanting something more than a quick fuck. Looking back on it now, he regretted not taking the hint. It was evident that you wanted a guy you could fool around with when you were bored, someone who’s emotionally unavailable so you don’t have to worry about attachments and sudden ‘L’ bombs when you’re just trying to get your fix. But Yunho, who was so pathetically infatuated with you at the time, so much so that it blocked away all rational thinking, decided that he’ll be whatever kind of guy you wanted him to be if it meant that he could be with you. The foolish romantic was now part of a no strings attached relationship. 

He felt incredibly stupid for getting involved with you. What did he expect? That after all the mindless sex, you’d fall as hard for him as he did for you, and finally agree to be his girlfriend? He had so much to learn. No strings attached meant no strings attached. That meant less conversation and more action. Less getting to know each other and more getting to know about what was in between your legs. It meant no longing stares, although he was guilty of watching you sleep in his arms from time to time. It also meant being okay with the fact that he was not the only guy you were seeing. And that’s when the fights would ensue.

“Who was that guy?” Yunho demanded, making sure to use his quiet-yelling voice out of respect for the other patrons of the library. He was referring to the pale, blonde-haired guy from the dining hall earlier. He didn’t like how close he was standing next to you. He especially didn’t like it when he leaned in to whisper in your ear, or how you giggled when he placed his hands over your waist and how you rubbed your hands over his flexed muscles. You chewed on your gum, tracing your fingers over the etched golden text on the book spines on the historical fiction shelf. You almost didn’t hear him at first, too preoccupied with finding your next bedtime read. 

“Hmm? Oh, that guy? Just someone I’ve been seeing. Why, you jealous?” 

It was a joke. There was no such thing as ‘jealousy’ in a no strings attached relationship. You smiled up at him, expecting to see him roll his eyes from your playful jab, but instead, he looked away from you. Even with his side profile facing you, you could read the tinge of irritation on his face. You frowned.

“Oh come on Pookie,” You pouted, squeezing his cheeks and turning his head to face you. You chuckled after seeing his lips puckered up like a fish. “Don’t be like that. Come on, I can’t be the only girl you’re seeing, right?” 

He placed his hand on your wrist and pulled you off him. “Whatever.” He moped. He watched as your eyes widened in sudden realization. 

“No…” You gasped dramatically, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. “I’m the only one you’ve been seeing?” 

He stayed quiet, not understanding why you worded it that way. Was it really a bad thing that you were the only girl on his mind? 

“Oh god, you’re so cute!” You tittered. “I thought with a dick like yours, you’d be very popular. It’s a shame you’re not sharing it. I know a lot of girls who would love to take you out for a spin.” 

“Keep your voice down.” Yunho hissed, looking around to see if anyone heard your distasteful choice of words. Luckily, no one was around at your corner of the library. “And stop talking like that. I don’t like it when you talk about me like that.” 

“It was a compliment!” You defended yourself. Yunho refused to meet your eyes, busying himself with pulling out random books and reading the blurbs on the backside, although he was too upset to even acknowledge what he was reading. You sighed again, feeling a little bad for making him so upset. You’d often forget that Yunho was more sensitive than your other partners and that he needed extra kindness and assurance. You wrapped your arms around his big body and rested your cheek against his back. 

“Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you so much.” He stayed quiet, putting back the book and pulling out another. “Please don’t be mad.” You begged. 

“I’m not mad,” He murmured. “I just thought…I don’t know, I thought I was the only guy you were seeing.” 

“Does it bother you that you’re not?” You questioned, letting go of him. Yunho looked back at you, his chest tightening at your furrowed brows. He worried that he said the wrong thing again. He was new to the no strings attached community, and would often let his possessiveness and sensitivity peek through. 

“No,” He lied. “I just…Forget it.” 

You mulled over his response, trying hard to understand why he was so upset, to begin with. Your silence made Yunho nervous. Everything about you made him nervous. 

Then, your eyes sparked when you finally understood. “Ohh…I get it.” You nodded. 

His shoulders tensed up. “You do?” 

“Yes, and you have nothing to worry about. Out of everyone, you’re my favorite.” You stood on your tippy toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, satisfied that you solved the puzzle and were able to calm his nerves. 

Yunho gave you a shy smile. He didn’t want to smile, but he figured it was best to do so, so that you could believe that he was lashing out over the fear of being replaced, and not because he didn’t wish to share you with other guys. 

You continued on. “You worried me for a second. I thought you were one of those guys that don’t like it when a girl has a mind of her own.”

“No,” he chuckled nervously, “No, I don’t mind that at all.” 

“Good,” you chirped, going back to your search. “You wouldn’t believe some of the guys I’ve been with. They get so clingy, and it gets annoying after a while. I’m glad you’re not like that. Other guys…they don’t get it.  We’re young. It’s better we have fun while we can, or else we’ll live to regret it when we’re old and wrinkly and can’t get any.” 

Yunho hummed in agreement, although he didn’t agree with you at all. He thought about his grandparents. They lived in a small apartment just outside of the city. His parents would complain about how small their living space was, and offered to help them move into a more spacious apartment, but his grandparents always refused. “If we move into a bigger apartment, we won’t be able to see each other. This size is perfect,” His grandmother would say, “I turn around and he’s right behind me. It’s how it should be. Anything farther, and we’d miss each other too much.”

It always warmed his heart just how inseparable those two were, even in their old age. He wanted that for himself one day. How wonderful would it be to grow old with the person you love most? 

Later that night, while you were showering, he remained in your bed, thinking about what you said earlier. Was he really your favorite? Did you really like him more than the other guys you were seeing? Or was his dick just bigger than theirs? He tried not to think about that too much and focused on going to sleep.

-

And when it wasn’t him being upset with you, it was you getting annoyed with him. 

“Do you really have to go?” Yunho whined. He was sitting up on his bed, watching you as you shuffled around his room, bending down to pick up the discarded pieces of clothing. 

“I already told San I’d meet up with him later.” You huffed as you shimmied into your jeans. Yunho didn’t like how quickly you were getting dressed. It was as if you were eager to get away from him. 

“San?” He scoffed. “You mean that bartender that kept eye fucking you right in front of me?” 

Yunho remembered San. A lot of the girls from your University frequented that bar on the corner of Main Street, hoping to get served by the handsome devil in all black. He’s seen a lot of the girls write their phone numbers on the twenty-dollar bills they tipped him with. It was ridiculous. Everything about him was ridiculous, from the cheap hair gel he used to slick back his hair, to his sleazy smile, along with his overly tight t-shirts and shiny black leather pants. But he didn’t mind him too much, not until that night when you two went in for a drink, and the so-called ‘handsome devil in all black’ ruthlessly flirted with you when he was clearly sitting right next to you with his hand on your thigh to mark that you were taken. Yunho didn’t know what angered him more. San’s shit-eating grin or the fact that you let him flirt with you in the first place. 

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, that guy.” You really didn’t like it when he got emotional, and Yunho could sense your discomfort. He immediately regretted what he said and grabbed you by your arm before you could leave, pleading to you with his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you. But can’t you just stay a little longer? It’s already so late. I thought you could spend the night. We could rent a movie?” He offered. 

You picked up your jacket and purse, not even bothering to put them on before you left. “Look, I’ll call you okay?” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips and then went out the door before he could protest again. Yunho slumped back against the headboard, the sound of the door slamming behind you echoing in his head. How do you keep letting this happen, Yunho? She comes and goes, that’s what she does. She’s not here to hold hands and watch a fucking movie. She wants to fuck and then move on to the next guy. Seriously, do you have any respect for yourself?

And that’s how the cycle would begin. Yunho would get tired of you and your bullshit, tired of being discarded right after helping you cum, tired of driving himself mad over who you were seeing and what you were doing with him, just tired of being an option. It wasn’t him. He wanted you and your full devotion, and when he finally realized that there was no way you would give that to him, he’d call it off. 

The first few weeks of being free from you would go well. He’d be at peace like he got rid of a bad cold and could finally breathe again. But that small period of relief wouldn’t last very long. Truth was, Yunho wasn’t good at being alone. And soon, he’d miss your touch, your smell, and hearing your laugh. He’d miss the moments he spent with you in the library, like when you two would play footsies under the table during your late-night midterm study sessions, or the times you two would fight for the aux cord in his car, eager to show each other new songs you were obsessing over at the moment. He’d find himself listening to the songs you showed him, but they didn’t sound the same anymore. 

He’d miss hearing you talk about your day or your thoughts about rent control and the current economic crisis. And then he’d miss the nights he spent with you, how your body reacted to his fingertips, the way you’d press your eyes shut when he entered you, and the pretty sounds you let out when you were close to your peak. And then he’d think about that one night you showed up at his apartment, unannounced. You were upset, it was telling from your reddened lips and tear-stained cheeks. You wouldn’t say why you were upset, and after asking a couple of times, Yunho decided to just let leave you be. He then invited you in and let you lead the way to his bed. It started the way any other night started, with you two hungrily ripping each other’s clothing off, but before he could spread your legs, you suddenly pressed your hand to his chest and asked him to stop. “No, not like this…Can we-” You looked away from his piercing gaze, a rush of frustration and confusion coursing through your stomach until you finally spit the words out. “Can we just lay here?”

Yunho looked down at you with sincerity in his eyes, and he wanted to ask you one more time what was wrong. But seeing you so hurt, so tired, so in need of someone to just hold you while you cried, he decided to hold his tongue. He pulled you into his arms without question, letting you wet his chest with your spilled tears. And when he felt goosebumps prickle up on your skin, he covered both your naked bodies with a blanket and held you tighter. You finally fell asleep, your worries being absorbed by Yunho and his warm embrace, and Yunho couldn’t help but feel a little enraptured watching you sleep so peacefully in his arms. He’s had you in every way, in every position, seen every crevice of your beautiful body, but this. This is what he wanted most in the world. This is how he wanted you. And he hoped that by the next morning, that’s how you’d want him too. But when morning came, Yunho woke up alone, with nothing but the faint smell of roses on his pillowcase. When he asked you about it later that day on campus, you suddenly went cold and demanded he never bring it up again.

He thought about that night, your body, those Omar Apollo songs you showed him, the library study sessions, just every single moment that he’s ever spent with you, driving himself mad to the point where the desire for you would be overwhelming and too strong to ignore and he’d ultimately give in and crawl back into bed with you, allowing you to use him as you wanted, feeling again like a dog on your leash. It would feel good for a bit, until those same old feelings resurfaced and he’d call it off once again, repeating the never-ending cycle of your no strings attached relationship.

But this time, things were going to be different. He wasn’t going to continue this cycle. You weren’t good for him, and it was time he let go and move on. That’s why he packed all your stuff and came to drop them off. It was official. There was no going back from this. All he had to do now was stick to the plan. 

Yunho shifted the box to his side and used his free hand to knock on the door. He took a deep breath and counted in his head. 

One. 

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five-

The door swung open, interrupting his counting. You stood at the door frame in nothing but your bathrobe, your wet hair dripping puddles around your feet. Yunho was at a loss for words. This wasn’t part of the plan. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t prepare for this. He didn’t, sorry, couldn’t see you, because it would just make things harder. It was like flaunting a cigarette in front of someone who just quit smoking. He wasn’t strong enough to resist you. He was addicted to you and he worried that he would relapse again. 

“Oh, Yunho.” You acknowledged, crossing your arms over your chest. He held onto the box tighter, feeling himself twitch from the sound of you calling his name. You peered into the box, recognizing the articles of clothing and personal hygiene products. “Is that my stuff?” 

Yunho struggled at first, forgetting for a moment how to speak coherently. “Uh- yes, it is. I came to drop them off. Here.” He blubbered, pushing the box towards you. You took it from his hands, not expecting it to be so heavy. You didn’t realize you left so many things at his place. 

“Oh. Thanks.” 

A silence weighed in between you, both of you looking at each other awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. Right, Yunho thought to himself, there’s nothing left to say. You did your part, now walk right out. 

“Well, I should head back. Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Yunho turned on his heel and made his way out of the long corridor. Part of him didn’t want to reach the end of the hall, but he pushed himself anyway, reminding himself over and over to not look back. As painful as it was, it needed to happen. It was for the best. 

“Wait,” You called after him. 

And just like that, Yunho immediately stopped in his tracks, not hesitating this time to turn around. It almost brought him some relief, like he had been holding his breath for too long, and now you finally gave him permission to exhale. “Yes?” He beamed.

You stepped out from the door frame and into the hall so you were right across from where Yunho stood. “Do you want to come in?”

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded, almost believing that he must have heard you wrong. 

“I mean, your stuff,” You clarified, “I still have some of your stuff in my apartment if you wanted to come in and grab them.” It was kind of pathetic, the way you tripped over your words, but you couldn’t bare saying goodbye just yet. No, you’re not catching feelings, you assured yourself. You just wanted him around you for a little bit longer. Maybe it was selfish of you to keep pulling on his leash like this, but for the moment, you didn’t care. 

“Oh, right. That would be great, actually.” 

-

Yunho knew he would hate himself for letting this happen. All that progress getting chucked out the window on account of his lack of self-control. But how could you blame him? With the way your damp strands curled around your flushed cheeks, the smell of your rosy shampoo that had been seared into his nostrils by now, and the fact that all he had to do was undue your robe to see your beautiful glistening body that was so ready for him to take. It was all so easy. You handed him the apple and all he had to do was take a bite. 

“Fuck, Yunho!” You cried out, grasping his bare back for dear life as he frantically thrust into you. He was angry, angry at himself that he let this happen again, and angry at you for making him so weak. He only put just the tip in, but you could’ve sworn you were seeing stars from the stretch alone. 

“Unbelievable,” He grunted. “Even after the hundred times we fucked, your little pussy still can’t take my cock?”

You’d never seen this side of Yunho. Usually, he was nice and gentle with you, always studying the arch of your brows to see if he was taking things too far or not. It was sweet at first, but sometimes you’d wish he’d just take you and fuck you like an animal. It seemed your wish was finally granted. “P-Please! All of it, I want all of it Yunho, please!” Was all you could muster out. 

He pulled out of you in an instant, and before you could whine, he forcibly flipped you over and pulled you back by your hips until your ass smacked into his pelvis. Yunho kept you down with his hand pressed against the space between your shoulder blades as he lined himself up with your aching center. 

Yunho rubbed himself against your slick folds, occasionally slapping his tip over your swollen clit, making your hips jolt with anticipation. “You want it all? ‘Guess those other guys don’t fill you up as much as you want, huh? Poor thing.” He continued dragging his cock over your folds, your soft whimpers only feeding into his ego. 

Just when he thought you had enough, he guided his cock into your hole, the stretch forcing you to tear up once again. You grasped at your bed sheets and pressed your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the rest of him as your lips coated in salty tears. 

He pushed the rest of him into you with a struggle, his hips stagnant as he waited for you to adjust to his size. “Fuck!” You gasped, your voice cracking as he started up again. Each thrust was deep, calculated, and they didn’t fail to rip a moan out of you. 

His fingers, now coated with your essence, tweaked and twisted at your clit. It was all too much for you, really, the sheer length of him plowing into your walls, the brutal pace he set on account of his anger, along with the way he toyed at your clit. Yunho could sense you were close, having known your body long enough to know when you were about to be sent over the edge. He stopped teasing your bud and instead slipped his fingers past your lips and you readily let him in, swirling your tongue around his digits to clean yourself off him. He grinned to himself, pleased to see that you knew exactly what to do without any instruction. 

Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out from you and cupped your jaw with his large hand, pulling you back until your head was against his chest, keeping your face there so you were forced to look up at him. He peered down at you with his full attention, completely engrossed by just how pretty and sinful you looked in this position. “Stay like that,” He breathed “‘wanna see you when you cum all over my cock.” 

He came first, your orgasm approaching soon after. You babbled incoherently as his cum flooded your walls, forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Yunho was completely enamored with you like this, your parted and swollen lips and your half-lidded eyelids almost making him shoot a second load into you. He disconnected from you and you fell forward onto the bed, catching your breath as you came down from your high. You felt dizzy and sweaty, and your head was so cloudy that you were unable to form a thought that wasn’t already so scrambled. As you relaxed, you felt Yunho’s breath over your hip right before he planted soft kisses on your lower back all the way up to your shoulder. His kisses were sweet and careful, almost like he was making up for being so rough with you. Soon enough, he retired from your shoulder and moved on to the side of your face, brushing his pillowy lips on your temple, to your wet eyes, to your cheek, until you craned your neck back and allowed him to meet your lips. 

It was almost foreign to you, to have someone care this deeply for you even after the act. None of your other partners behaved this way, and you were lucky if they even remembered to toss you a towel. But Yunho, he was different. He treated you as something more, and maybe it made you feel bad that you didn’t do the same for him. It was overwhelming, his soft kisses, his careful touches, the way he’d beg you to stay over, and the way he almost looked hurt when you say you can’t. Poor Yunho. He was in love with you, and you knew it. You hated yourself for toying with a man with good intentions. But what was the alternative? You couldn’t be his, and he couldn’t be yours. You made a promise to yourself years ago that you’d never be foolish enough to fall in love ever again. This had to stop, you should’ve stopped it months ago, but you were selfish. And lonely. The guilt you’ve been bottling up inside of you was too much to handle, and you knew you had to do something before you exploded.

Feeling disgusted with yourself, you pulled away from his lips. Yunho raised a brow at the sudden gesture. “What’s wrong?” He asked, his slightly concerned tone making your heart shatter into pieces. 

“You should get going. It’s late.” You got up, forcing Yunho to pull off of you. He watched you as you went over to your dresser to pull out a fresh pair of pajamas, completely dumbfounded by your sudden coldness. 

“Are you fucking serious?” He scoffed.

You shook your head, picking up his t-shirt that lay on the floor and tossing it over to him. His eyes flickered in anger and he threw his shirt back on the ground. “I don’t understand, why do you always do this!?” 

You stayed quiet, quickly covering yourself before turning around to face him, keeping your eyes low, feeling too ashamed to meet his. “I’m sorry, but I need you to go.” 

Yunho clenched his jaw. How could you be so cold? How could you invite him in, only to toss him out so abruptly? He thought about how you melted right into his embrace, how you kissed him back with the same amount of passion that he kissed you with. Was any of it real? Or was he too infatuated to notice that you were playing him, again? 

“Why? Is Yeosang coming over? Do you really think that guy cares about you?”

You balled your fists up at the mention of Yeosang. “Stop.” You warned.

“And San? He’d fuck anything with two legs and a heartbeat. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, Yunho, that’s exactly what I want!” You snapped. A silence weighed in before Yunho’s lips curled up in an unexpected smile. 

“What?” You teethed. 

He shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t know what you want. That’s why you keep coming back to me.” 

“Me?” You pointed to yourself, a crooked smile now spread across your lips. “No, it’s you that keeps coming back to me.” You jeered. 

“And you let me! Why do you let me!? Time after time, you take me back without question, why?”

You crossed your arms and looked away from his direction. You felt hot, like the blood in your veins was boiling. You didn’t want to deal with this. You felt stupid for letting him in. Yunho always had questions, so many questions, and you couldn’t give him any answers. Fed up with your silence, Yunho got up and walked towards you, almost closing the gap between you two. You still didn’t look at him. 

“And that night. Why did you come to me? Why didn’t you go to your other boyfriends? You were so different. Why did you act like it never happened the next day?” 

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your expression softened remembering that night. It was so cold and rainy that night, and Yunho felt so warm. He made you feel so loved, so cared for, and for once you felt like you deserved someone like him. But the morning sun gave you some clarity, and you were reminded once again of what happens when you fully give your heart to someone. Yunho didn’t see it now, but he’ll understand it one day. Love is a wasted emotion. It gives and gives, until one day it takes everything back from you, and more. 

“I don’t know.” You sighed. 

That wasn’t good enough for him. He took another step forward, the tips of your noses now just centimeters away from each other. “I’ll tell you why,” He said, his voice softer than earlier. “It’s because you like me. It’s because I’m the only one who really understands you, the only one who sees more to you than just your body. That’s why you keep taking me back. It’s why you came to me that night. You knew you could be vulnerable with me, and that I wouldn’t turn you away, because-” He paused for a moment to lick his lips. “Because I like you too, y/n.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to ignore the sting so that you wouldn’t blink and force them to run down your cheeks. Your chest felt like it was engulfed in flames, making your breathing unsteady. You were too caught up in your emotions to realize that Yunho closed the gap and pressed his lips onto yours, his hands firmly placed at your waist. 

He always kissed you like he wasn’t going to see you for a while. Maybe it was a force of habit considering all the times Yunho had ended things between you two. Or maybe, as he said, he liked you, and he wanted you to know from his touch if his words didn’t suffice. It felt right kissing him, real. Not like all the other times with your boy toys, who only kissed you because that’s just what came naturally when you're both rolling around naked in bed. Yunho never only kissed you on the lips, but everywhere else as well, your eyes, cheeks, forehead, and just every feature of you that made his heart swell and anywhere he could put his lips on if you let him. 

It was so easy. All you had to do was wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back, leave this no strings attached bullshit behind, and let him lead the way. But you were reminded, reminded of him again, the one who took your heart and snapped it into two, the one who lead you to keep people at a distance and hurt them before they hurt you. That’s what you needed to do now, you told yourself. You had to hurt him. It made your heart ache even thinking of hurting Yunho, but you would be doing him a favor, even if he didn’t realize it now. You were damaged goods, not fit for sale. He’d be better off.

You pushed your hands on his chest to get him off you. Yunho, looking at you with such hope and hurt in his eyes, holding onto your hands that you used to keep him at a distance. He didn’t say anything, instead waiting for you to explain. 

Your eyes were down at your feet, too afraid to look him in the eye and say your next words. “I’m sorry Yunho, but I just don’t feel the same.” 

Yunho didn’t speak for a while. You wanted to look up at him, but you knew that seeing his reaction would crush you. You told yourself not to look. It was easier this way. 

“You don’t mean that.” Yunho kept his voice steady, even though he could feel a slight lump forming in his throat. “I know you feel the same, y/n.” 

You shook your head and a few droplets of tears splashed onto the carpet and onto your toes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t.” 

His hands let go of yours and he immediately brushed his fingers under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up. “You really don’t feel what I feel? Then why don’t you look at me and say it?” 

He gazed down at you, waiting for your eyes to meet his, getting impatient with you when they didn’t. “Look at me and say you don’t want me.”

Overwhelmed, you moved your head around and pushed him off of you, too consumed in your rage to realize that for once that night, you were finally meeting his eyes. 

“I don’t want you. I never cared for you. You were just a distraction. Whatever you think was going on, it’s not true. You don’t know me, you don’t know what’s going on in my head, so don’t act as you do! For the love of god Yunho, just get the fuck out!” 

You panted after letting your frustrations out, the room now silent again. Nothing could have prepared you for the look on Yunho’s face right now. His sweet face was painted in constraint, his once cheery and sparkling brown eyes now glossy and downcast. You could feel your heart being ripped out of your chest, and for a moment you wanted to rush over to him and tell him you didn’t mean it, that you’ll do whatever he wants, be whatever he wants, as long as he stops making that face, but your legs stayed immobile and the words tangled up in your throat.

Yunho looked at you for a while, waiting to see if you would take those words back, but you never did. Swallowing the painful lump in his throat, he picked up his shirt from the floor and got dressed. You leaned back on your dresser, watching him as he put on his coat and slipped on his shoes. There was so much time to say something, anything, but neither of you uttered a word, and Yunho understood now that he said all that he needed to say, and that he couldn’t change your mind, even if he tried. 

He was now at your entry door, and you followed behind him, staying back a couple of feet as you prepared to watch him leave your life once and for all. As he held onto the knob, he turned his head slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but decided against it, and went on with turning the knob, his tall frame disappearing behind the closing door. 

You wanted to crawl into a ball and cry right there on the floor, but you stayed strong. You’re not crying over a guy again, you promised yourself. Even if it hurts…It’s for the best.

-

Finals were almost over, and the Library was seeing a reduction in visitors. The staff was partly relieved, enjoying the empty space and not having to be bothered to tell students to be quiet, confiscate their Cheeto bags (even though there’s a bold NO EATING sign at almost every table), and wake up tired students from their naps to tell them the library was closing. But there was one visitor who came almost daily and sat at the same exact spot in the same exact section. The Historical Fiction section.

The librarians didn’t know what his deal was. He’d come in with absolutely nothing, no backpack, no laptop, no textbook. They even doubted he brought his phone. Sometimes, he’d take a book off the historical fiction shelf and crack it open, although, unbeknownst to the library staff, he wasn’t actually reading anything. He tried to, but then his head would get fuzzy and he’d get lost in thought, his eyes darting around every time he heard the Library door open or footsteps approach his section, only for it to be another student or a staff member, and when he’d sigh and look back down at his book, he’d forget where he left off and start from the beginning again.

They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter to him what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the Library where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would just pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and you’d lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows.

They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the place where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would just pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and you’d lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows.

-

Finals were almost over, and the Library was seeing a reduction in visitors. The staff was partly relieved, enjoying the empty space and not having to be bothered to tell students to be quiet, confiscate their Cheeto bags (even though there’s a bold NO EATING sign at almost every table), and wake up tired students from their naps to tell them they were closing. But there was one visitor who came almost daily and sat at the same exact spot in the same exact section like clockwork. The Historical Fiction section. 

The librarians didn’t know what his deal was. He’d come in with absolutely nothing, no backpack, no laptop, and no textbook to indicate if he was taking a summer class at least. Sometimes, he’d take a book off the historical fiction shelf and crack it open, although, unbeknownst to the library staff, he wasn’t actually reading anything. He tried to, but then his head would get fuzzy and he’d get lost in thought, his eyes darting around every time he heard the Library door open or footsteps approach his section, only for it to be another student or a staff member, and when he’d sigh and look back down at his book, he’d forget where he left off and start from the beginning again. 

They didn’t know he was waiting on a girl. If they did, they would probably feel bad for him, and maybe even find his efforts to be a little pathetic. But to Yunho, it didn’t matter what they thought. Being the tortured romantic that he was, he still had hope that you two would be together again. He wasn’t going to crawl back to you like all the other times. Instead, he was going to wait. He believed the day would come where you’d grow sick from your passing relationships and realize your true feelings for him. And when you realize that, you’ll come running to the Library where you two first met, and you would find him there, sitting at your table in your special little corner of the Library. He’d greet you with a friendly smile, and pull out a chair for you, and you two would pick up where you left off as if nothing else ever happened. Maybe then he’d take you out on a real date, maybe to a fancy restaurant which neither of you could pronounce the name of, and afterward, you’d crash at his place and lay in his arms just as you did that night, and he’d whisper corny jokes into your hair, both of you laughing softly until you finally fell asleep. Maybe, after a while of sleeping over, you’d take a liking to his idea of moving into a small and cramped apartment on the outskirts of the city, where there’s no one around to bother you except each other. Maybe. Who knows. 

[scientia-rex]

Best Things I Have Bought

I'm not sure how successful I will be in remembering all of it, but I'll try. These have all been game-changers for me, in a variety of ways. If teen me had had access to all of these, I would have been a vastly happier person.

This one is long, so I'll put in a cut.

-outlet timers. Not having to go around and manually turn off lamps at bedtime? Amazing. I bought these but you can and should get some that have a grounded outlet with three prongs so you can attach good extension cords to them.

-famotidine. aka Pepcid, it's the safest option I currently know of for managing acid reflux. I get nauseated when I get acid reflux, so this is a necessity for me.

-T-Gel shampoo. The only one that keeps my husband's insane dandruff under control. Coal tar shampoos smell peculiar, but are totally worth it if they work. For my hair, I like anti-dandruff conditioner--I apply it to my scalp and my other conditioners to the length of my hair. After bleaching my hair, I use Olaplex 3 to prevent more severe damage; the difference is very noticeable.

-white vinegar for a laundry rinse. I get horrendous contact dermatitis and adding this in the "fabric softener" cup in my washer keeps things from making my skin burn.

-on a similar note, all Oxy laundry booster. Doesn't make my skin burn but does make stains and smells noticeably better than detergent alone.

-Aquaphor. If you have eczema, nothing helps like Aquaphor, unless it's hydrocortisone ointment (the same white petrolatum base as Aquaphor but with hydrocortisone) or a prescribed steroid.

-Bissell Stomp 'N' Go pads. I have stomped. The stain goes.

-Prune puree. A packet a day keeps the chronic constipation at bay. Less volume to consume than prune juice and, in my opinion, slightly more palatable.

-Chinotto is a bitters-based beverage that I discovered by accident really helps my chronic nausea. I've tried other brands, and San Pellegrino is definitely my favorite. Tastes weird at first, but when heavy-duty ginger ale doesn't ease it, Chinotto can. And when that doesn't work, I have Zofran (ondansetron) my doctor prescribed me for the nausea I get with migraines, and that's an effective anti-nausea agent for more than just migraines.

-"You Just Need to Lose Weight (And 19 Others Myths About Fat People)" by Aubrey Gordon.

-rolling laundry cart. Doesn't have to be this one but if you CAN roll your laundry to and fro from the machines, do it.

-"Why Does He Do That? Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men" by Lundy Bancroft. If you Google, you can usually find a free pdf floating around.

-"The Vagina Bible," by Dr. Jen Gunter.

-satin scrunchies. Wet Brush. Terry cloth lined shower cap. AOA terry cloth hair turban (way, way better than similar ones from drugstore).

-stretchy work pants.

-bra liners. For large-chested people who tend to get sweaty underboob, this is a life-saver.

-Goo Gone.

-Dr. Scholls medicated foot powder and the Earth Therapeutics tea tree oil foot spray. The foot powder works for super long days and the spray for lighter days.

-Reflective heat pad. I use this on my car seat in the winter and I am so happy for that every single chilly morning. I've repurchased it... once or twice? now.

-Retin-A. I used to use Differin, which is adapalene, the most potent retinoid available over the counter, but the switch to prescription-only Retin-A has been very noticeable. Decreased wrinkles, clearer skin. More inclined to flake and burn but it's worth it for me.

-Red LED therapy. Near-infrared stimulates collagen production in the skin. The only other thing that really does that is retinoids. I bought the Omnilux mask, which is certainly high-end, but HotandFlashy (a YouTube content creator) did a great comparison of different masks available by specs and this was the best at the time. The difference is noticeable within days. I've tried other, lower-powered masks, but what made me make the jump to high-end was that I got the Dennis Gross red LED eye mask for crows' feet off eBay and I was like "holy shit, this is better." And Omnilux is better still. It makes sense, since they were the OG of the models that have been in dermatology clinics for a couple of decades now.

-AOA foundation has been at least as good at my TooFaced foundation, and it's like 1-2 bucks instead of 40. There are light, medium, and deep shades, each on different pages; I'm linking to light because that's what I use. The lightest shade works for me, and I'm basically translucent.

-AOA VitaGlow tinted moisturizer is absolutely my go-to for lighter coverage days.

-AOA PawPaw blending sponges. Best out there and also the cheapest.

-(do not buy any of the AOA eyeshadows. Total waste of time, zero pigment. I've tried repeatedly and they're just garbage. The highlights are generally fine though.)

-Direct acid foot peels. The calluses come off. Just don't do it when you have ANY open wound on the feet, because it's acid and will sting like hell.

-blendercleanser solid cleanser for blending sponges and brushes. Actually a) gets them clean and b) rinses out.

-PureWine wine wands. I let these puppies sit for three minutes in a glass and suddenly I can drink red wine without migraines or hangovers. Fucking miraculous.

-Dustbuster. Holy shit it's amazing for ADHD peeps. Small thing bugging you? Can't get yourself to bust out the "real" vacuum? USE THIS.

-Crocs. Don't @ me. I wear a black pair around the house and for garden chores and they make my feet happy. Salonpas patches and/or BenGay for a topical when you're sore--topicals are great pain relief.

-Vibrating neck pillow. Don't need it right now? Wait until your next head cold. Vibration clears sinuses.

-PooPourri. I love not having to smell poop. This, and similar products, work pretty well by trapping scent particles in the oil layer instead of letting them evaporate into the air.

-Electric snow thrower. I can't manage a large, heavy snow blower and I don't want to deal with a gas engine. This little guy helped me clear my large driveway in 3-4 hours instead of 12.

-The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark, by Carl Sagan.

-Handheld home IPL for hair removal. I ordered this exact one and I like it. You can get these on eBay or Amazon for cheaper sometimes; just make sure you PROTECT YOUR EYES during flashes. Targets pigment in the hair bulb so lighter skin and darker hair work better, and deeper skin tones may burn.

-Lanolin chapstick. Makes all other chapsticks I've used look like garbage.

-Steam eye masks. ShopMissA sells these and you can find them on a lot sites; shouldn't cost more than about a dollar per mask. I ended up buying an electric eye mask because I wanted to treat my dry eye and that just felt more environmentally responsible, but I love falling asleep with these on and I can't do that with my plug-in mask.

I think this is where I'll leave it--I've gone back quite a ways in my shopping history across multiple sites and thought about my daily routines--but if any of these problems torture you, these are my suggestions.

[its-time-to-write]

Thank you so much for the response to my request <3. the fic was better then I could have hoped!!!!

I have a new request (but feel free to focus on the story themes you were wanting to do!), I have been really wanting to see a Jamie fic where he takes care of sick reader. Could be period or illness (no preference) and Jamie has no idea how to help but tries his best. I think its a cute idea

Can't wait to read more of your fics!

Thank you so much for requesting!! Literally love when people ask me to write things. Also, apparently everyone loves a sickfic because my other one has the most notes of everything I’ve written. Anyway, here’s your fic!

there’s orange juice in the kitchen

You are not sure of much, but you know one thing: you’re in pain. It’s 2am, and you’ve gotten a grand total of two hours of sleep. You’ve given up on laying in your bed and have filled up your bath with hot water, bubbles, and bath salts. Lots of bath salts. Your abdomen feels like it’s shredding itself and you suppose, technically speaking, it is. You’re just relieved that tomorrow is the weekend and you don’t have to slog through a work day, white-knuckling these absolutely ripping period cramps. 

You don’t have regular periods like, ever, and your doctor’s concerned about your fertility. You remember waving it off with the statement, “That’s a problem for another day.” Thing is, that was just a cop-out. You didn’t want to think about it for a single second because then it would become real, and you make it a personal point never to complain about a period no matter how brutal it is because at least it’s something and never mind that your last one was four months ago, you’re ok. You have a good life and good people and you’re fine. 

It’s just the principle, you know? The desire of choice. 

The hormones don’t help either. 

But anyway, you’re in your tiny bath trying to soothe the pain you’re in, trying to make yourself tired enough to fall asleep once you get out. You breathe, in, out. In, out. 

You’re up till 6am when you finally doze off. 

—

You wake up in a sweaty haze. You’re in soft pants and a large t-shirt, on top of your sheets rather than in them. You reach for your phone then pull your legs in with a sharp gasp. You’re still in pain. 

It subsides so you reach again and check the time. 9:01. You groan. Three hours of dubious sleep is not enough. You have a missed text from Sam (remind me which brand of kitchenware you use?) two missed texts from Keeley (look at this absolutely adorable puppy! Attached: 1 Image), and a missed call from Jamie. 

Ah, right. Jamie. 

Your boyfriend. 

Who you were supposed to meet for breakfast exactly sixteen minutes ago. 

Shit. 

You call him back and he answers on the first ring. 

“Hey love!” he says. “You alright? Not like you to miss breakfast.”

You grimace. “I uh, I wasn’t feeling well last night and I haven’t slept very good. I forgot to text you. Didn’t fall asleep until 6.”

“A.M.?” Jamie asks and you reply to the affirmative. He lets out a long “shiiit,” followed by a, “how contagious are you?”

“For you? Not very,” you say. “For another girl, incredibly contagious, although some say that’s an old wive’s tale.”

Jamie is silent in confusion, then- “Ohh, I get it! You’re not sick-sick, you’re on your fucking period.”

You chuckle, despite remaining curled up on your side. 

“Yes,” you reply, “My fucking period. I feel nauseous and tired and I am bleeding so. Much. It’s like my body’s making up for the last four months of nothing.”

Jamie’s silent for a moment and you internally cringe, kicking yourself for over sharing. You haven’t been together that long, about a month and a half, and he doesn’t need to know that about you. He’s a famous footballer, after all, and a guy’s guy. Probably gets grossed out about periods and stuff. 

Then he says, “Can I come over? I’ll bring food,” and your worries almost completely evaporate. 

“As long as you don’t care about how disgusting I am or the fact that I hurt a lot, sure,” you say. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

—

Jamie’s at your flat in 40 minutes, which is fast considering how much food he walks in with. He’s brought a bag of Chinese takeout, plus two overflowing grocery bags. 

“This is for now, these are for later,” he explains. He’s in a pink sweatshirt with matching shorts and socks, and maybe it’s the damned hormones again but he looks hot. His hair is pushed back with a headband and you want him to fuck you. You don’t think you can convince him, though, what with the blood. And the fact that he’s Jamie fucking Tartt. And that he probably doesn’t do shit like that because it’s gross. 

Your brain whispers, but he’s here, isn’t he? so you just push that thought down to live with other scary ones like, I will never have kids, or I’m going to live with this pain for the rest of my life.

Jamie is oblivious to this, just pulling everything out of the bags and chattering on. He’s kicked off his trainers near the door, and he hasn’t made any comments about the fact that you’ve wrapped a blanket around your shoulders like a shroud, or that your hair is in the messiest bun in the history of the world. Not the sexy, reader-insert fan fiction type of messy bun, either. Just an I-did-not-get-anywhere-NEAR-enough-sleep-last-night messy bun. 

“-and me mum always drank orange juice, swore it helped with bloating or hydration or somethin’, I don’t really know, but I got some of that too and this tea that’s supposed to help with cramps, and also a shit-ton of chocolate because I didn’t know which kind was your favorite. I was thinking we can sit on the couch and watch a movie or play Animal Crossing or some shit while eating the takeout, then I can cook you a proper fucking meal later. Coach always says it’s important to have a balanced meal when you’re under the weather, and I think it applies to this too.” He stops when he notices you just looking at him. “You alright, babe?”

“Yeah, I just- why did you get all this?” you blurt out. 

For the first time since you’ve known him, Jamie looks unsure of himself. “I dunno. I mean, I do know. You didn’t sound great over the phone, and Keeley’s always telling me to fucking listen to other people, and me mum was always the same on her period so I used to get her the things she wanted all the time. And-” he takes a breath, “and I picked up on what you said. The fuckin’ four-months shit. That ain’t good babe. Even I know that. And, we haven’t been together that long, but I’m pretty fucking sure you know that too, and I wanted to let you know I’m sorry.”

You’re momentarily fixed on the way he says certain words. Keeleh. Sorreh. It’s sweet, for some reason, and it causes a dull ache in your chest. You realize what he’s actually said to you and that ache deepens. You’d kiss him if you weren’t sure your breath was gross. 

So instead, you settle for nodding and staring at your kitchen wall. That’s because option one is kissing and option two is crying. You can’t do either right now.

A traitor tear slips out your eye anyway, and you hope Jamie won’t see it. He does. 

“Hey, hey.” He comes around the counter and pulls you into a hug, blanket shroud, messy bun, and all. “Love. It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re not alone, and we’re going to go sit on the couch and eat as much food as we can and then pass out, alright? We’re not going to think about anything else except what’s right in fuckin’ front of us.”

“That was,” you sniff, “weirdly philosophical. And very sweet. And I’m sorry for being disgusting.”

Jamie pulls away from you, and you think this is the first time he’s realized how gross you are. 

“Don’t say that shit, babe,” he says, and you laugh before you realize he isn’t joking. 

“I’m serious,” he continues. “You might feel disgusting, but you aren’t. You smell like fucking lavender, for Christ’s sake. Your pajamas are clean, and so’s your hair. Might be fuckin’ messy right now, but me mum also taught me to braid, so it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

You pull him back against you and let some more tears come out. 

“Why are you being so nice,” you ask, voice muffled through his sweatshirt. 

“Oh, dunno,” he replies, hint of a smile in his voice, “Think you’re fit. I like shower sex. You pick.” He pauses. “Maybe both. Heard that it can help with cramps.”

You laugh wetly into his chest. He’s warm and comforting, and so completely not what you expected him to be. You both stand in the kitchen for another minute, his cheek resting on your head before he says, “Oi, you hungry?”

“God, yes,” you say, “I could eat a fucking horse.”

“Good.” Jamie picks up the bulging bag of takeout and a roll of paper towels. “Lead the way, babe.”

—

It’s not until much later, after you’ve eaten, watched a movie, and showered (and all that implies) that you realize you’re finally tired. Finally calm. You let yourself relax on your bed in Jamie’s arms, breathing in his clean smell. In, out. In, out. By the third breath, you’re asleep. 

[many-but-one]

Hey! Why did I split over something not even THAT traumatic??

I'm here to tell you. :)

So, this particular discussion has come up in our system server before and it's actually something I've wanted to talk about for a long time on Tumblr because I've never actually seen someone talk about this, and I am being hit with a sudden god-like hubris at 3 in the morning, so here we go!

So your question was "Why did I just split? What just happened wasn't even that traumatic. I've been through so much worse in the past, I don't even feel that stressed. What the hell? Am I just making this new part up?" and on and on. The idea that only the most awful and traumatic things are what cause splits in DID (especially later in life, after the childhood trauma window of 7-9ish has ended and especially in adulthood) is actually incredibly false, and I am about to explain why.

Note: This is about traumagenic DID systems, so endogenic systems, please stay off of this post thank you. :) /not mad

Note number two: I do want to get out of the way, that all parts DO split for a reason, there's no parts that exist for no reason (even if the reason doesn't seem relevant to you now, it may have been relevant at the time of the split, OR may have been somehow relevant to your brain even if it doesn't make sense to you now.) So I want to make it really clear that splits do not occur only because of hyperfixations. There typically has to be something going on for a split to occur, and hyperfixation alone will not cut it. Alright, now that I've got that out of the way, let's talk about how DID brains run on patterns.

DID brains run on patterns, like I said. All brains do, actually, but DID brains take it to an nth degree because these patterns that it learns are what help it stay alive in a distressing and traumatic environment during childhood. Our brains are remarkably plastic and they will do whatever is necessary to survive a given situation. It's why something like DID can even exist.

So what kind of patterns do we typically see in brains with DID? Well, the easiest one is that a lot of people with DID have pretty similar alter "types" or "roles." This is just a widespread pattern that you see across a large demographic of systems. It's why terms like "gatekeeper" and "protector" and "caretaker" exist. Because nearly all DID systems have parts that fill those roles, even if those roles aren't filled in the most "traditional" sense. DID is rarely random, every part exists for an express reason, and that reason is almost always symbolic in some way, even if it doesn't seem like it now. Once you start learning trauma memories and WHY parts exist, you very quickly start to see the symbolism and sometimes it is absolutely fucking terrifying, to say the least.

What other patterns are common?

Well, patterns we see in our own system and in other systems are something quite literally called "splitting patterns" which are more common in polyfragmented systems but not exclusive to them. This has various ways of showing itself, and the user @foreverfragmented made a post awhile back that I'm having a really hard time finding, HOWEVER I did screenshot the section about splitting patterns when I first read it, attached below:

Wow that photo ended up bigger than I thought it would be. lol. Anyway. Those are another example of splitting patterns. (Note: in the original post, FF talks about how some of the terms above were coined by them or other systems, so not recognized medically, however I think they were worded perfectly which is why I shared them here.)

Another few examples include alter templates (AKA, splitting the same alter over and over in varying iterations), the same parts going out for the same types of trauma every single time, and why certain alter roles very often have the same "flavor" of personality.

For example, gatekeepers are often considered a bit cold and distant, and can be very analytically minded and rarely react purely on emotion alone. (I feel like the most common gatekeeper Myers-Briggs has gotta be INTJ...that was a joke, lmao.) This is typically for a reason. You have to have a certain mindset and a certain way of handling things to be able to properly manage a system. And this is not to say all gatekeepers are this way, but the pattern of a LOT of gatekeepers being like this is not unnoticed. Our DID specialist could tell pretty early on that our primary gatekeeper (James) was a gatekeeper long before he ever told her he was simply because of how he held himself, how he spoke about others in the system, and how much he despised her for "stepping on his toes"😂 They work together much better now, FYI, but it was rough in the beginning.

An example of alter templates in our system in particular is what we call the "Michaels." They were some of our earliest alters, and our brain was like "hey this guy is working really well, so I'm just gonna keep doing it." And it worked! Then, when trauma shifted to something completely different but in the same vein (CSA) our brain once again attempted to use this "Michael" template. It didn't work quite the same. And so our brain had to figure out these new patterns, which it was fucking desperate to do because we were going through some heinous shit that it could hardly even comprehend. I've learned that basically every blue-eyed white-haired motherfucker in here was a Michael copy at one point, but had elaborated into some other version that suited its job more.

Now, for the example that is going to actually help me explain the answer to the question posed at the very beginning of this post: alters who go out for the same things over and over.

So, depending on splitting tolerance, or whatever you happen to be going through in your childhood, you will likely have various "groups" of alters that handle certain things. If you had a particularly tumultuous childhood with several varying types of traumas, you will probably have several of these groups. And depending on length of trauma time, severity of trauma time, and levels of support during trauma time, these groups may be very large.

For example, if you had a situation like domestic violence (DV) happening in your household, you will have a part or parts dedicated just for DV, and if you also had CSA going on, you will have a separate group of parts (or a single part) who handles only the CSA. Unless your system is quite small and you have alters take multiple types of abuses, this is pretty commonly the case. [Note: want to say this is not subsystems unless these groups are highly separated via either amnesia barriers or inner world (IW) barriers, and have better communication with each other versus the rest of the system. The definition of subsystem gets a little funky, but we're not talking about that. Just wanted to make that clear. You can have groups of alters without them being subsystems.]

"Okay, so yeah, you're right. I have alter groups for [insert various traumas] what does that have to do with me splitting over [insert mundane thing that isn't even really traumatic]?"

Continuing on the "DID brains run on patterns" line of thinking, if your brain has patterns set and understood for the various traumas that you lived through in your childhood, usually up until teen years or adulthood, your brain knows what to do when those traumas occur again. The patterns are set. It's why it's super common for people with DID who experience SA in teen or adult years and don't end up having a split. Unless they have an extremely low splitting tolerance or the situation is extremely unique, the brain will just recycle what it already has. No need to go through the literally massively painful and traumatic experience of splitting again for something it already knows how to handle. This being said, the part that experiences this might end up splitting at a much later date if this trauma is far too difficult for it to handle, this is also common because sometimes it's "easy" to handle the trauma in the moment because they're used to this flavor of trauma but the processing of said trauma afterward can be just as traumatic and can cause a split.

Same if your father was super abusive to your mother, or vise versa, and you happen to have an abusive partner. That pattern is known and comfortable. That's what professionals mean by "DID systems are more likely to be victims of abuse than perpetrators." They return to the comfortable patterns, which, with DID, equals abuse. Things outside of those patterns are dangerous and confusing to navigate and the brain will avoid that at all costs.

However, and this is the answer to the question. What happens when something happens that the brain doesn't recognize in its "pattern database"? I'll give an example.

Say you were very high achieving in school. This is pretty common of systems who were diagnosed in adulthood, so far as I've seen. You likely did really well, had really high marks because your parents expected it of you or were abusive and angry if you didn't constantly constantly succeed in their eyes. This can also reflect in sports, clubs, musical talents, etc. This pattern continues on in adulthood. You push yourself very hard to be high achieving. Whether this be in a college setting, a work setting, etc. You are likely often doing well in those fields pre-system discovery, at least. Post discovery often leads to the "spiraling" phase, which sucks but again that's not what we're discussing.

So, say you have a job. You're hella good at it. You are always receiving praise, you are always getting raises, your reviews are always hella good. You're like "okay yeah, I'm good at this job, so I'm going to apply to a higher paid position in the company that just opened up."

And then...you don't get the job. Well, that sucks. Better luck next time, right?

Wrong. Well, not entirely. That's completely true. But that's not how your brain is actually processing this, is it?

You might tell yourself "oh well" but in your high achieving brain's POV, it's like "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON???? WE DON'T DO THE FAILURE STUFF!!! WHAT THE F***!!!" And it might panic, and several alters might panic, and the host might panic, and suddenly they're spiraling out of control over something that is mildly disappointing at best. Because WE DON'T HAVE A GUY FOR THIS?! We have a guy for SA, we have a guy for DV, we have a guy for medical trauma, we have a guy for bullying, etc. But we don't have a guy for REJECTION?! AHHH! [splits a part just to handle rejection.]

In adulthood, I've noticed both in myself and other systems I frequently speak to, these highly specialized parts are more commonly split in adulthood. Because while patterns are super helpful in childhood when you're experiencing the generally same shit over and over, in adulthood or even late teen years, there's so many effing unknowns that the brain is just like "what the actual fuck is this, this doesn't follow the fucking SCRIPT you guys. The PATTERNS?? Do they mean nothing to you??"

DID is a disorder that is incredibly helpful for survival in childhood and is an absolutely miserable crutch to live with in adulthood. And that's not me saying it super sucks all the time, but the disorder is not meant to happen, it shouldn't have happened, and coping with it without therapy and proper integration of parts and memories just makes adulthood kind of a hellscape, to be frank. There are tons of positives, I am so thankful, don't get me wrong. But there are a lot of downsides too.

So, to kind of drive home some examples of things that can cause a split that might not even be inherently traumatic based on my own experience and the experiences of some folks in our system server:

-(TW: mild NSFW in this one) We had our first consensual sexual experience when we were 19. We didn't have a guy for that. Everything we'd ever experienced throughout our childhood and teen years was not consensual. So when we were having consensual sex with our girlfriend, we were losing our mind because we didn't have this pattern integrated. So we split a guy whose literal only job was "consensual sex" and he was pretty much made to be the "perfect partner" for our girlfriend.

-We have a part whose only job is to play video games. We didn't know why until we realized he was fronting during stressful family gatherings and was playing videogames to pass the time until they were allowed to leave.

-We have a part that split only to handle our irrational fear of getting sick with a deadly illness right around COVID lockdown time.

-We had a part split just to internalize the feeling of "going to hell" due to our religious beliefs at the time.

-We have a lot of parts that split just to hold feelings of anger, sadness, or fear, even in adulthood. This is common in situations where anger or showing emotions was not allowed in childhood, so if the brain decides that's not allowed, when a part gets overly angry they might split a part to hold that anger, which then typically gets buried deep down.

Note about the above example: Trauma therapists often say that anger is one of the last emotions processed when processing traumatic events. Which is why "anger holding alters" are so so so fucking common. Kids and teens and adults get angry and if that's not allowed in some way shape or form, the brain will suppress it. It's also why it's common for people with DID to be able to "turn off" emotions or if triggered, will have a sudden intense burst of emotions (typically anger or frustration) because of how intensely repressed emotions often have to be just to survive living in a toxic environment that would cause something like DID. When you were a kid, you couldn't cry in front of your parents because you would be ridiculed or punished. So you will "turn it off" and go hide to cry later. But if, as an adult, you never let yourself "go cry later," that shit will build up and cause those intense emotional breakdowns, even after something that's considerably smaller scale than what you're used to. Kind of considered the "straw that broke the camel's back." You can be having a shit week with horrible thing after horrible thing and you're doing really well at "shutting it off" especially when around others, because god forbid you let the mask fall, and then suddenly you can't open a cheese stick or you can't find your keys so you might be late, or there's a stain on your shirt right before work, or the entire contents of your bag get dumped onto the floor of your car because you had to brake too hard...and that's when the breakdown happens.

Anyway, to get back on track, there are probably a plethora of other ways a system could split that seem mundane or "not that traumatizing" or alter roles might be super hyper-specific and the reasoning for that is because ✨patterns✨ We love to see it. /sar

Hope this was helpful! If you have further questions, feel free to hit up the ask box or the replies. :)

-Dori🌹

(Again, endos please don't interact, this is not for you. This is for the folks whose DID was caused via childhood trauma. These patterns likely would not exist in someone whose system didn't form from repeated traumas.)

[the-vast-corner-of-the-galaxy]

KW 2024: Day 7: Proposal

After a million years, Day 7 of Kataang Week 2024 hosted by @kataang-week

I've just recovered from my sickness and can now say I am doing well. Due to university kicking my ass, my updates on other fics will be kind of sluggish and sow since I am constantly busy.

Either way, enjoy this!

***

Prompt: Day 7: Proposal- Sunday, August 4th Summary: Aang wants to propose to Katara, but he is a nervous wreck.

Word Count: 3.3 K

Rating: General Audiences

“She won’t say no!” 

“What if she does?”

These were the two main voices that have been haunting Aang’s mind for the past few months. The Avatar has been in a relationship with Katara for over eight years. They have been through thick and thin, good and bad, and haven’t left each other’s side at all. Aang had known some time back that he wanted to be with Katara for the rest of his remaining years, and would do anything to make that come true. 

He wanted to propose to her for a very long time, but proposing at the age of 16 was not precisely a good idea. They still had a lot to do, individually and together, and getting married while they were still teenagers was probably going to bring conflict. Additionally, Aang needed more time to back up his decision on being with Katara for the rest of their lives. Even if she was the most amazing person in the world, Aang was still unsure if his choice would be the right one, not because he did not love her, but because he thought she could say no. 

However, all of those doubts began to clear off when Katara saved his life once more a year ago, one of the harshest attacks Aang suffered since Azula struck him with lightning when he was 12. He was in critical condition, and Katara did an exceptional job at saving his life once more.  He was eternally grateful to her for that, and although she would say it was nothing and that she’d do anything for him, he praised her for her kind actions.

It was a tranquil morning on Ember Island, and the sun had just begun rising. The whole Gaang decided it would be refreshing to take a small vacation after doing so many missions in Republic City. Katara decided to choose the place because she wanted to practice Waterbending in a more relaxing place, and of course, everyone agreed that the island was one of the most calming places in the world. 

“Aang, I am certain that Katara will say yes,” Sokka told Aang, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You guys have been through a lot, and she LOVES you, like… a lot.”

“It’s just that… I’m scared she could say no,” Aang said with worry, looking at the sunrise in front of him.

“Come on, twinkle toes!” Toph said from afar. “Stop being so dramatic! Do you really think that your eight year term girlfriend will refuse a proposal from THE Avatar? No! That’s absolutely ridiculous! She’s probably been waiting for this for years!”

“Maybe,” Aang said.

“Plus, you’ve been working on this necklace for MONTHS!” Sokka pointed out to the necklace that Aang held in his hands. It was a Water Tribe necklace carved from one of the most precious stones in the ocean: Grandidierite. Aang had worked on the designs every day for the last six months, and used every single prototype available. He even went to the Northern Water Tribe to get some prototypes from the people who had these necklaces, but did not find a design he found right, until a jewelrer from the tribe had told him something important. 

“You need to make everything with love,” he said. “Don’t focus on other designs, imagine how YOU want this necklace to look.”

Even though Aang had a natural talent for jewelry making, sometimes, he struggled trying to come up with ideas for whenever he made jewels, and for this occasion, he had an insane amount of trouble trying to imagine something. Aang wanted to combine elements from the Air Nation and from the Water Tribe, but due to the fact that the Air Nation did not do the whole “marriage thing” since attachments were forbidden, it almost seemed impossible. He also had some trouble remembering what other materials the Air Nomads used to make jewelry. 

Then, one day, Aang was meditating in the beaches of Republic City. He was sitting at the feet of the ocean, feeling the cold water touch his feet, until he felt something from the ocean call to him. It almost felt like the Sea Lion was trying to call him back, and Aang walked towards the ocean and submerged himself. He saw a bright, cyan light shining below him. He dived his way there, and that’s when he saw it: the Grandidierite. Aang had heard of the stone before, and it was told that it was one of the rarest to find in the ocean. People would die to find it, and it even cost a fortune. Why would this stone be in plain site in the oceans of Republic City? He thought it was strange, but he decided to take it as a sign. Aang created a small air bubble to maintain his oxygen levels, and then used waterbending to get the large piece of stone out.

When he came out of the water, he examined the stone once more, its cyan color blinding him, and suddenly, he had an epiphany: the Air Nomads would sometimes mine Grandidierite from the ocean so the nuns could make necklaces, and that's how Aang knew that Katara’s betrothal necklace had to be made more Grandidierite. After this, Aang spent the next few months drawing the patterns that occurred to him with the help of Sokka and other people from the Northern Water Tribe, and finally, he had the perfect pattern, and it was time to carve it onto the stone. 

“Good morning,” Katara came out of the bedroom she shared with Aang. Her hair was still messy, and she looked really sleepy. She headed towards Aang and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Aang was happy to receive the gesture, but he was tense due to today’s proposal. Katara sensed this, but did not mention it.

After Katara arrived, everyone sat down to eat breakfast. While they were eating, Aang started to recite the lines he would say to Katara, which was making him look even more nervous than he wanted.

“Katara, you are the love of my life, and-” Aang began to recite in his mind. “And we have been through a lot: ups and downs, thick and thin, life and death-”

“Aang?” Katara called out. The Avatar's trail of thought broke and Aang turned around to face Katara, who looked puzzled.

“Is everything okay, sweetie?” she asked. “You were zoning out.”

“Yeah! Everything is fine!” Aang rapidly said, lying. “Just… thinking! That's all!”

“Wonder what he's thinking about,” Sokka teased. Aang shot him an intimidating warning look and Sokka's smile immediately got wiped off. 

“So, sweetie,” Aang whispered to Katara. “I… kinda have something special planned for us today.”

“Oh! What is it?” Katara asked curiously.

“It's a surprise,” Aang told her, smirking. “But, I will give you a few hints: it's at our special spot on this beach.”

“What's the special ocassion?” Katara asked.

“Nothing in particular!” Aang replied. “Just meet me there at sunset, and wear something nice!”

Aang quickly bolted out of the dining room, leaving Katara confused. The rest of Team Avatar didn't seem to notice Aang’s strange behavior, or at least didn't care.

“Don't you guys think Aang is acting weird?” Katara asked.

“A little,” Zuko said. “I'll go talk to him.”

Zuko headed out of the room and went to the balcony, where Aang was meditating. Next to him lay a shell shaped box that was shut closely. Zuko opened it and saw a beautiful Water Tribe necklace. The stone, which was teal, had a delicate and detailed design of the Water Tribe and Air Nation symbols carved into it, and the chord of the necklace was made of  blue leather.

“It's beautiful,” Zuko told Aang. “You made it for Katara?”

“Yeah,” said Aang, breaking his meditation. 

“Aang, you know perfectly that Katara is not going to say no to your proposal,” Zuko said. “She loves you a lot. I still remember when she threatened to kill me after I joined you guys in the war, and I knew from that moment that she cared about you with her life. Katara would want to spend every breath she has left with you.”

“I don't doubt Katara's feelings,” Aang said. “I just fear that she will say no to well… spending the rest of our lives together.” 

“D’ you really think that she'll say no to that?” Zuko asked, bewildered. 

“I don't know!” exclaimed Aang. “I'm also just… well… nervous.”

“The mighty Avatar is nervous to propose to his girlfriend?” Zuko teased. “Aang, you've faced even more dangerous things: my father, my own sister, the entire Fire Nation Army, and so much more; I know you're capable of proposing to Katara.”

“Thanks, Zuko,” Aang said. “Your words mean a lot.” Zuko then left Aang meditating and went back to the dining room.

“Is Aang okay?” Katara asked.

“Yeah, he was just meditating,” Zuko said. “He's fine.” Katara looked more at ease and finished her food. Once everyone finished eating, they changed into their swimsuits and headed to the beach to enjoy the tropical and hot weather. 

***

“Where's Aang?” Katara asked. “I haven't seen him since we had lunch.”

“I'm sure he'll be back soon!” Sokka told his sister. “He's probably meditating or doing y'know, Avatar stuff.”

Meanwhile, Aang was in the Island residence preparing everything for the proposal. He packed the food he needed, a blanket to sit down in the sand, a wine bottle, and cups and plates, placing them in a basket. He placed the necklace near his robes, which he would wear later, and headed back to the beach to join Katara.

“Where were you?” Katara asked. 

“I was just getting the stuff ready for our date tonight!” Aang told her, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“What exactly are you planning that needs so much of your time?” asked Katara teasingly. 

“It's a surprise, sweetie, I can't tell you,” replied Aang. 

“You know I hate surprises!” Katara said.

“I think you'll like this one,” Aang said. He gave Katara a loving kiss on her lips and went back to the water, and Katara chased after him. They played in the ocean, splashing water on each other using their bending and laughing like childten. They were 12 and 14 again, playing in the water like they used to when they were younger. It brought them so much nostalgia and love, and in that moment, they wished that they were that age once more. 

“I love you Aang,” Katara told Aang, laughing and catching her breath. 

“I love you too, Katara,” Aang replied, hugging Katara from behind. 

“Well, I think I should go get ready for the surprise you have in mind for me,” Katara smiled. “I’ll see you at our spot.”

“I’ll go with you, I need to prepare everything quickly before you come.” Aang said. He pecked Katara’s cheek and rushed back to the residence. He showered, put on his robes, and got everything he needed to head outside. Katara was getting ready as well, but took a little longer to get herself prepared. She put on a white beach dress, some sandals, and a pair of Earth Kingdom style earrings. 

Aang placed the blanket on the sandy beach and placed the dishes and cups neatly. He placed the necklace in one of his pockets and patiently waited for Katara. As he waited, his nerves were beginning to build up even more, and soon enough, his body seemed to be shaking, and his heart was beating rapidly. When Katara began to head over to him, he almost fainted. She was looking ethereal with the rays of sunset, her blue eyes glowing with the reflection of the sea. 

“Sweetie!” Katara greeted. She kissed Aang’s and could savorthe salt from the sea in his mouth. “You look really handsome.”

“You look stunning, my love,” Aang said, holding Katara by the waist.

“So, this is the surprise?” Katara said, looking enthusiastically at their little picnic.

“Yeah, but only part of it,” Aang said, teasingly. “There will be more to come!” 

They both sat down in the blanket and Aang took out the wine bottle and served two glasses. 

“Let’s make a toast,” Aang proposed, holding his glass of wine. “A toast to our love.”

“To our love, which will be everlasting,” Katara responded. They clinked their glasses and drank a sip off the glass. Then, Aanf took the first bit of food, which was an appetizer based off kale and originated from the Earth Kingdom. It was similar to the dishes Katara saw when she sneaked into the king’s palace in the Earth Kingdom during the war. 

“You made this?” Katara asked, savoring the delicacy. 

“Yeah, with some help,” Aang replied. 

“Aang, it’s so good!” Katara exclaimed with some food in her mouth. 

“I am so glad you like it,” Aang said. “Because I think you will like the next dish!” He took out two wrapped bowls of fire flakes. They were the chips that Sokka first tried in that Fire Nation festival, which were extremely spicy. To reduce the spice, Aang made a creamy dip to soak the chips in. 

“I remember these!” Katara said, taking a chip out of her bowl. “These were the chips that Sokka tried at that festival!”

“Yeah,” Aang said. “I found a recipe here and decided to make them. They are not as spicy as the ones Sokka had.”

“I love them!” Katara said, devouring her chips. Aang tried to eat at a normal pace as well, but his heart was thumping in his chest and his hands began to sweat. Soon enough, he knew he had to pop in the question. 

“Here is the next dish,” Aang took out two small pots and inside were stewed sea prunes with salmon. Due to his vegetarianism, his soup had tofu, but still had the fishy flavor the stew had. 

“You made sea prune stew?” Katara asked excitedly. “But… you don’t like sea prunes.”

“This one has tofu!,” Aang said, trying to contain his anxiety. “It tastes just as good as your stew!” 

They both ate their stews in comfortable silence, but as time went on, Aang’s eating began to become uneasy. He felt sweat build up in his body, and his chest tightened even more. It was now or never, and he had to do it quickly. 

“Katara?” Aang called her name. Katara stopped eating her stew and looked at her boyfriend, who looked extremely anxious and worried. 

“What is it, Aang?” she asked, trying to discern his expression. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, um…” Aang said, his breathing hitching. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask… Katara… I…” He took a deep breath, and placed his hand on his chest, trying to calm himself. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Katara cooed, placing a hand on Aang’s hand. “Take it easy.” 

Aang breathed once more and began to speak again. “Katara, from the moment I met you in that iceberg, I knew my life would never be the same. We’ve been through so much over these past eight years: we’ve been through thick and thin, life and death, ups and downs… We’ve gotten through everything together, and I want to ask if… if…”

“If what?” Katara asked, feeling her own heart beat like crazy.

“You’re the love of my life Katara,” Aang interrupted. “You’re the best thing anyone could ever ask for. I… I love you more than anyone in this world, and I want to ask if you want… if you want to spend the rest of our lives together, because I cannot imagine a future without you in it.” Aang took out the shell shaped box and opened it, revealing the handmade necklace. Katara was in shock, not knowing how to react. Did Aang just… propose to her? Now, she realized that he did ACTUALLY propose just now.

“Oh my gosh,” Katara whispered, feeling tears brewing in her eyes. The necklace in front of her was magical. She recognized the Grandidierite, and saw the delicate pattern carved onto it. She couldn’t believe it: Aang was ACTUALLY proposing to her right here. Was this all a dream? Katara could not decipher it, but whether it was real or not, she did not want it to end. 

“Katara… I want to spend every breath I have left with you,” Aang said shakily. “Will you… will you marry me?” 

Katara stayed silent for a few moments, still trying to process what just happened. She did not know how to react at all, which began to set Aang in a state of panic. His breathing accelerated and his heart began beating in a way that could give anyone a heart attack. Katara has loved Aang since she was 14 years old, and had fallen in love with him even more over the years. She did not just love him because he was the Avatar; she loved him because he was one of the kindest people she has ever met. He showed her what real kindness and compassion is, and is something she would never forget. How could she say no to spending the rest of her living days with the love of her life? 

“Yes,” Katara murmured, tears streaming down her eyes. “A thousand times yes!” (1) Aang sighed in relief and even felt tears building up in his eyes. She launched herself towards Aang and kissed him passionately. They embraced each other for minutes, feeling their hearts beat in unison and their breathing synchronizing. 

Aang broke the hug and got the necklace out of the box to wrap it around Katara’s neck. He clasped the necklace onto her neck, and the color of the Grandidierite was glowing with her eyes. 

“Aang, you are the love of my life,” Katara said, wiping her tears with her hand. “You’ve been my guiding light through the darkest of times. You've shown me what it means to truly live, to truly love. I’ve watched you grow into the incredible person you are today, and I’m so proud to stand beside you. I will stand beside you for as long as I have left in this world.”

Aang smiled sheepishly with tears brimming in his eyes, and pulled Katara into a tight hug. They stayed there cuddled, laying down on the blanket while watching the sun go down over the beach.

“I love you so much, Aang,” Katara whispered. 

“I love you so much as well, Katara,” Aang said, kissing her lips once more. 

As the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of deep orange and purple, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that quiet, magical moment. The gentle sound of the waves lapping against the shore was the only thing that filled the silence between them.

Katara rested her head on Aang’s chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. It was a sound she cherished more than anything in the world, a reminder that he was here, with her, in this life they had built together.

Aang gently stroked Katara’s hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands as he gazed up at the emerging stars. “This is just the beginning, Katara,” he whispered. “The start of our forever.”

Katara closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his words wash over her. “Our forever,” she echoed softly, her voice filled with love and certainty.

They stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, as night slowly enveloped the world around them. The promise of a lifetime together, sealed with a kiss under the twilight sky, lingered in the air as they drifted into a peaceful slumber, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them side by side.

And so, with hearts entwined and spirits lifted, they welcomed the dawn of a new chapter in their lives: a chapter that would begin with love and continue with unbreakable unity.

***

This line is from the 2005 movie adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, when Mr. Bingley proposes to Jane.

[ceasarslegion]

wait, now im really interested in the silica gel drama. how did hlrp sex ed lead to eating a gel packet?

This is going to require a novel's length of context.

To begin, I want to underline that this is not meant to be a callout post, and I will not be providing any identifying traits that could be used to single this person out. The most you will get out of that are she/her pronouns, and her age at the time this happened, which was years ago, and I will not specify what year. I genuinely do hope she got the help she needed after this, because LORD knows she needs it and didn't find it at home. This is also not meant to be a character assassination, nor should anybody who reads this post consider it to be a takedown of any sort, and if you try to find this person through me or any of our mutual friends, you will not be met with kind words. The only thing this is meant to be is a wild-ass story of some of the most off the wall experiences I personally had with this person from my specific side of the story, with a few no-username screenshots attached to prove I am not bullshitting you.

With that in mind, let's get started. This is going to be very long, so I'm throwing in a read more

Back when I was in uni, I joined a growing group of Half Life roleplay blogs. The whole idea of our group was that we each chose a character, canon or OC, and we would blog as if the pre-Black Mesa incident moment in the timeline was a workplace comedy a la The Office or Superstore. I played Barney, because I was already working night shift security at this point and thought it would be funny. Plus, it gave me something to do that wasn't staring at CCTV feeds all night tossing a ball against the wall. We played off of each other very well, yes-anding our way through funny little situations and plotlines we put together. At one point we had roleplayed enough that one of the scientist rpers created a discord server for us to talk as the actual people we are instead of through characters.

Great idea at the time. None of us saw the "Pandora's box" label on the tin before we opened it. Would I still join it if I knew what was about to transpire? Yes, because I met my boyfriend and many genuinely lovely friends through it. Would I hesitate for a second first, though, as the events that are about to transpire flashed before my eyes? Oh, abso-fucking-lutely.

We started off as many fandom servers do: chill for the most part, very loud minority of a few assholes who ruined it for the rest of us, but unlike most fandom servers, we actually won and it ended in them getting banned and the server itself surviving to this day. But the other two lunatics are not who you came here for. You want the christian lunatic.

Let's give her a nickname to make this easier. I have the Sylveon build a bear on my PC desk. Let's call her Syl.

Syl was not there for Half Life, she was there for Portal. She LOVED Portal, Half Life was just part of the same universe for her. Portal wasn't just a game for her, it was her entire personality. Which I didn't see much of an issue with at the time, because she said she was 15. Whatever, I thought; she'll learn to control her emotional attachment to things as she gets older. Syl also said that she was christian. I am a flaming atheist who doesn't even believe in the concept of a soul in comparison and I am NOT the biggest fan of christianity as an institution to put it mildly, but I'm not gonna like, be a dick to you for your personal religion if you are not a dick about my beliefs, so I didn't think much of it at the time.

It quickly became apparent that Syl looked up to me more than any of the other adults in the group the more I would talk about my life growing up as a third culture kid and moving out on my own at 19, working 2 jobs and going to a good university. She would ask me a lot about growing up and uni and moving out and yes, sex ed, and it became even more apparent that she didn't get any actual guidance from her parents or pastors or ANYBODY beyond bible studies and homeschooling, so I kinda stumbled into a mentorship role in her life. I wasn't cold, but I was aware of the age and maturity difference between us and established the appropriate boundaries with her and made it very clear that I am an internet friend, not an irl friend or an educator, but if no one else was going to give her information that wasn't actively harmful then fuck, I guess SOMEONE had to do it. I could not in good conscience watch some kid go through life with harmful inaccuracies about the world and basic human biology when I could have done something about it, y'know?

And the more things I taught her about the real world and how things actually work rather than how her republican bible-thumping rural town said they did, the more I realized she was born into a full-blown cult under the guise of a christian congregation. Oh goody, I had my work cut out for me. I will not get into the details of how messed up this group was because it will be a dead giveaway of where she lives and potentially who she is, but let's just say that one time I said that I appreciated the gesture of praying for me during a stressful week I was having but it didn't really do anything for my mental health because I was an atheist, and she sent me a bunch of bible verses begging me to start believing and said "I just don't want you to go to hell because you're so nice :((" EXCUSE ME??? Another time she said that death was only sad for non-christians because their loved ones were in hell and that proper christians deaths were a good thing because they were in heaven now. Hi, that's the most insensitive death cult shit I've ever heard in my goddamn life.

Okay, set up is done. All of these details will tie in like the world's worst reboot of Pulp Fiction, I prommy.

After a good long while learning about the world from me (which like... a uni kid working night shift security is not exactly an academic source but we take what we can get) and exposure to viewpoints outside of her in-group, Syl began that very painful journey of realizing that what the cult taught you was a lie. Except that she just wasn't grasping that unlearning things was an active process. She started to flip to the opposite side very quickly, but kept all the fundamental brainwashing of the cult that raised her. The concepts were all the same, just slapped a different label on them. This created a noticeable pull between two sides of the same personality: the cult personality, and the person beyond the cult who wanted to break free. Mix that with how fucking 15 years old every 15 year old is, and you have a LETHAL concoction just waiting to blow up at the first sign of a spark.

Remember how I said that Portal was her whole personality? Syl decided that she wanted to be a scientist, and go into an ivy league program like I was in (I was in a SOCIAL science, but sure). Problem was, she didn't have the grades or the ambition, really. I had told her that I still got into an ivy league when I failed math in high school, and she seemed to completely miss the part where I said that I also joined every extra-curricular, then worked for 2 gap years for recognized institutions, and wrote an essay about why my math grade is not relevant to my program. I did it with one bad grade, so she was justified in basically just slacking off and then excusing it with "but its haaarrrdd" when we'd tell her she needs to put the fucking work in NOW if that's what she wants to do.

It quickly derailed from here. Not only was she going to be a scientist, she was going to be like Cave Johnson. And she was going to... replace her body with robot parts so she could be like glados. I don't... think she actually knew what science is, because she would just publically fantasize about running unethical experiments on people in the name of "science," and talk about how one day she wants to basically establish aperture labs for real. All of us who were there kind of agree that we don't think she was joking based on what we knew about her and the cadence of her tone. Here's something she said at the time to give you an idea of what direction she was nosediving in:

This was after a session with her therapist where said therapist said that she definitely has some kind of personality disorder, after which she was weirdly proud of having one and treated it like a badge of honour.

Syl then made a separate group chat for all the best friends she made on the server. There was her, me, @false-pyre, and @imtheaura. She titled it "My Family," despite the fact that we were all adults and she was 15 and she only knew us over a discord half life server where one person in it stepped up to somewhat equip her for real life outside of a cult. Regardless though that GC was more the vibe of a group of friends sharing memes and chatting about the day than the wider server was at the time. The others began to also take on a sort of mentorship role towards her as well, because that's kind of inevitable when you get someone talking about teenager problems in a room full of adults who all made the same mistakes before in their own lives. Well, minus the cult.

And remember how I said that she didn't unlearn any of the cult shit? Well, there was a lot of proselytizing. She decided she wasn't christian for a spell, but still wanted us and everyone to know that jesus was the lord and savior and we had to accept him or we'd burn in hell. Usually said after we'd make some joke about satan being daddy or declaring ourselves god instead, because that is just the type of humor the others and i have with each other. She took it so personally whenever one of us would go "oh my god" "you called?" it was fucking annoying. I lost count of the amount of lectures she gave us, all of which I'd shut down and tell her to get a grip about because I have a big stupid mouth.

The others and I also like to talk about evolution, and speculate about where we're going from here. My fucking god, did she not like that. She bit our heads off about how evolution isn't real and god made everyone as we are and there's no scientific evidence or whatever the hell. Like yeah good luck getting into STEM with that mindset. Whenever we pointed out that she was objectively wrong about that, she'd have a big stupid meltdown about how much we're slandering god and how jesus died for us and we're spitting in his face or whatever. He should spit in MY face inste-*GUNSHOT*

Eventually, we were making some actual progress with her. She was still one fry short of a happy meal and going off about how much she wanted to put living subjects in test tubes in between knocking on our doors and reciting Hello from the Book of Mormon musical, but we were getting somewhere. And then she went back to in person school, and her favourite teacher got fired.

The schoolboard did not say why she got fired, but we all had our suspicions that it was because she openly supported queer rights in a cult town. She was coincidentally retired shortly after making a declaration that queer people are still welcome in god's kingdom. This teacher was the first in person adult Syl had for guidance, so that incident shook her to her core, and she fell right back into the extremism. Hook, line, and sinker, even more extreme than before.

She was WEIRD that week, man. Suddenly everything was about how great god was, how amazing jesus was. Suddenly she understood why her cult member parents "just wanted to protect her" from gay characters on disney+ originals. Suddenly no one could say "jesus christ lol" around her or she'd have a fit. I said "I hate cycle counts lmao i wanna kms" because my then-job (I had graduated at this point) made me do inventory management spontaneously and wouldn't let me go home until I had counted every product in the store, and she bit my head off accusing me of turning suicide into a joke.

It was that incident that made us tell her to knock it off already, that we understood it was a hard week for her and she was in a period of grief, but that is no excuse for how she had been acting towards everyone around her that wasnt christian, and that she was actively relapsing. I'll let the exchange speak for itself:

So uh. After years of helping Syl through this she goes and pulls this bullshit. And then has the fucking AUDACITY to act like nothing ever happened in the wider server. I am genuinely gobsmacked by the balls on her to act like it was all sunshine and rainbows in the wider server after sending this and immediately leaving the same GC SHE made and titled "My Family" just because we told her to stop acting like a goddamn Jonestown citizen after all the work we'd put in to get her out of that mentality at this point.

So I dragged her up in front of everyone and essentially said "no, nuh uh, you don't get to say that shit to the people who have lost sleep and asked for nothing in return trying to help you escape a cult over the last 2 years and then act like we're all buddy buddy to everybody else. You don't get to be that arrogant and self-righteous without any consequences. I don't give a fuck how young you are, you DON'T treat the people who have helped you this much like that, you selfish little shit. How dare you treat us like this after all we've done for you over the years."

Unfortunately, no one involved had surviving screenshots of this, but they can back me up on it if they so choose. And oh boy, DID she face the consequences of her own actions. The whole server basically turned their heads and went "what the FUCK is wrong with you, Syl??" and asked her to at least like, apologize. She proceeded to double down with the added audacity of "you guys taught me how to establish healthy boundaries, that's all I'm doing right now :(( oh woe is me :(((" like WOW, okay. Someone's really going for the persecution complex.

Here's her last goodbye to us all before the mass block fest occured:

Oh, boohoo. You're so hard done by. You spat in the faces of everyone who stayed up all night multiple times helping you through crises and spent the last 2 years teaching you about how the world really worked and then they asked you to apologize after you tried to escape accountability. You truly are god's strongest soldier, the most persecuted minority in the world. Let me play you an ode to how righteous and holy you are and how this was the most important hill to sacrifice all your outsider friendships on on the world's smallest violin.

Syl then went on to post on her roleplay blog that she "was banned because I spoke up for what was right, and they didn't like that" before deleting it. Truly no one has suffered as much as you.

Anyway, the day after that went down, I called in from work, bought this book, and read the whole thing purely out of spite:

It was greatly therapeutic. After that incident, I vowed to never sanitize my own atheistic beliefs for the benefit of others again. If they don't like them, they don't have to talk to me. But I am not changing them for other people or keeping them quiet just to spare your feelings anymore, I have as much a right to my beliefs as anyone else does, including the world's most persecuted minority here.

And well, the silica gel incident?

There was one incident, during the height of Syl's "I am the irl cave johnson and only want to get into STEM to conduct unethical experiments on people. follow jesus" era, the rest of us were joking about how silica gel packets are the ultimate forbidden snack, and said "haha would eating it make you see shrimp colours" knowing full well it can kill you.

Syl proceeded to actually eat a silica gel packet and then send in "it has a sandy texture and tastes bad" prompting the rest of us to go "WE WERE FUCKING JOKING FIND YOUR POISON CONTROL HOTLINE RIGHT NOW"

And because i didnt get this done until now, I'll tag everyone who said they wanted to read this or expressed interest: @captainjonnitkessler @formydarlingtoread @cra-zwizard @chasingnightrainbows

[chronicbeans]

What would it be like if you were Wally's puppeteer?

I actually have a whole story, start to finish for that scenario! I'll provide the links to the Masterlist that have the parts for it below, alongside some extra little info and just an overview for his behaviors and thoughts! Just a heads up, these Masterlists are a bit chaotic, because I am not well practiced in making them! 😅 Also, the story is pretty old - my first one on here - so idk how well it holds up!

Being Wally Darling's Puppeteer:

TW: Idol Worshipping, Obsessive Behavior, Unintentional Violence (Puppet Man Doesn't Understand how Fragile Humans can be)

As a puppet, Wally isn't necessarily in as much control over you as he would be as a puppeteer. He doesn't mind, though! He doesn't see the need to control you. It's your job to control him. Why would he want to control you?

He always knew he was a puppet, but not necessarily what it meant. To him and his friends, being a puppet was basically the same as being human, just with more stuffing and felt than skin and bone. So, when he got brought to the human world, realizing that every puppet has a puppeteer... someone who controls what they say and do everyday... his mind is blown. His mindset is filled with the idea that making you happy will, in turn, make his already pleasant life perfect! His friends will be even happier, he will be happier, and most importantly, you will be happier!

Then, that desire to make his own life better fades away as everything settles in better. As he watches you, he begins to grow attached to you. Well, more so than a puppet and puppeteer already are. You are his savior! Think about it! Someone who controls what he says and does in his world... What does that sound like to you?

He isn't scared to reveal himself to you. He's your puppet! Why would you be scared if he is walking and talking? You are pals! You have a bond stronger than pals, actually! He wants your attention. He wants your affection. He wants you to be proud of him. He needs it.

He is willing to go to extreme lengths, however, he doesn't understand the consequences of it. As a puppet, he can handle things like... say, a heavy object falling from a high place and hitting his head. That may sound very specific, but as a three foot tall puppet, that's one of the few things he can do. He can also handle things like accidentally stapling himself. Just pull it out! It feels uncomfortable, yes, but no severe injuries! He doesn't understand that humans can't handle it. That humans are harmed by it. He may know that if feels uncomfortable for them and mean to do these things, but he doesn't understand the extent of injury these actions can cause.

So, you may notice some of your coworkers being brought to the hospital for odd injuries. An "incident with the stapler", "a large box of tools fell on their head", "the sewing machine malfunctioned". They never really want to explain what actually happened when they come back, either. They tend to avoid you, too. Wally does feel bad, don't get me wrong! He didn't mean to hurt them that badly... But, depending on the person, he might think they deserved it. Specifically if they were mean to you in the past.

You also get a bucket load of letters, drawings, and paintings on your desk at work, every single day. He has no fear in signing them, either! He'll proudly write his name, mention how much he loves you, and doodle little hearts and smiley faces all over the paper. If he didn't reveal that he is alive at this point in time, you probably think that it is all some sick joke. If he did, you are most likely twice as scared as before.

[baby-xemnas]

Even tho Bepo does make a few comments about female bears, i wonder if it is more of an automatic response than anything, maybe something like compulsive speciism like you mentioned. Like it’s not something at the forefront of Bepo’s mind but that’s what is expected, that a mink will be with another mink, so that informs what he says out loud. I can’t help but think about how Bepo left Zou at such a very young age too, bc as far as we know, Bepo has been around humans far longer than minks at this point, so i wonder how that would’ve impacted or shaped his development and outlook on such things? In other areas too, I wonder if Bepo felt odd coming back to Zou, seeing the differences between himself and other minks who grew up and stayed in Zou or stayed in closer contact to minks even if they weren’t living in Zou. All this in relation to LawBepo and Bepo’s immediate intense strong attachment to Law, it’s interesting to think about!

yeeee.....

its a single crumb of Bepo's presense on Zou during that arc but i did appreciate when it was noted that "Even though he is from here, he is still an outsider" like thats GREAT thats a bit of worldbuilding i really appreciate making characters behavior more believable - ye no shit...not only did this guy not live with them, disappearing as a kid - he brought humans with him too - he is a complete stranger to the island. imagine moving to a very different country in elementary school - all your formative years would be shaped in accordance to the new place. I love that they treated him like the stranger he is

and GOOD POINT ABOUT HIS INSTANT ATTACHMENT TO LAW like yes of course its logical that he would be appreciative of a person who saved him - but Bepo had ZERO apprehension towards Law and following Law to a strangers house.. ofc u can say that he is too naive and easily trusting but it mustve been so crazy to him to be like wow! not only humans exist (when they met bepo have gotten over that initial surprise and probably hid from adults til pensha found him and beat his ass) but there are nice ones too! yay!!!!!!!!! :D!!

its absolutely compulsive species attraction like "i'm supposed to find a bear mink" and he just thought that way the whole time growing up and didnt even consider humans - and that was fine because he was very busy loving and supporting law - thought didnt cross his mind...if he felt horny he just thought "oh well i cant do nothing about this! idk where bear women are at!"

i love thinking about how weird it felt to come back home (and like i talked abt before i love that bepo didnt go home because he wanted to fullfill his initial wishes to 1) find zunesha on his own - reason he learned navigation 2) find out where his brother go - no he went to zou because (as he himself probably suggested as it was a safest place) law ordered them to lay low somewhere....i love that so much, that law going off on his personal vendetta mission caused bepo to fullfil his personal dream - the one that he put away for so long BECAUSE what law became way more important.

There is a sense of shame and wrong priorities there - imagine that instead of being a sort of triumphant/celebratory visit home where you can boast look at me i'm a pirate like my big brother! No instead he comes home asking for help, for a place to hide, not only for himself but strangers to the island - and he himself is as much a stranger as the humans. oof.

Its hard to imagine he felt that comfortable around minks at first, it was a wishful thinking like here i am among my people - but they look at him (and rightfully so) like an alien - and bepo is too worried about law to care....he is not there to integrate back into society....these people are not his people anymore, his crew and law are his family now

its super interesting and i really am sour forever that we didnt get more about this aside from "he is still a stranger even if he is from here" line about bepo and others being quarantined to a single area - and that one moment where bepo says "even if im a stranger this is my island too" when they are about to help defend zou against beast pirates along with locals

[polyklok]

Movies I think Dethklok members would really like

No this is not based on anything I’m just in a mood™ rn

Nathan Explosion

Mad God

So, no, I did not have any ounce of an idea of what this movie was about when I originally watched it, and I’m still not 100% sure tbh but an hour and a half of these pure vibes would totally be up Nathan’s alley. The post-apocalyptic setting, all the gore, the details of the various monsters, and I think he would just really appreciate it from an artist’s standpoint as well. This movie would just resonate with him, even if he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what was going on the whole time.

Mary and Max

I’m, personally, a bit on-the-fence about this movie, but it is undeniably sweet and I headcanon Nate to be on the spectrum so 🤷

This would be, like, his guilty pleasure film. The movie he knows is for kids and is totally not brutal but he loves it anyway. The, “I do not feel disabled, defective, or a need to be cured” really hits for him every single time. He rewatches it at least once every few months, especially when he’s in some sort of emotional slump.

Mandy

Another one that just like, like, big Nathan energy, you know? He just seems like a guy to really love loose plots with trippy visuals and strong emotions attached to them. Also, this movie is so completely badass, it is certified metal in his book. He also finds the story incredibly tragic; having the love of your life stripped away from you in such circumstances really tugs at his heartstrings, but in a way that gets him pumped up rather than sad. This is probably his go-to when people ask, “what’s your favorite movie?”

Pickles the Drummer

Son in Law

Okay this is my guilty pleasure movie. I usually don’t like stoner-comedy from the 90s, but this movie hits different. Maybe I just find Crawl hot. Anyway, I’m projecting that onto Pickles. He honestly probably finds a lot of crappy comedies to be peak film, and this is no exception. Pauly Shore pretending to be a country boy for a whole movie? Hells yeah. Pickles would watch while high off his mind, laughing his butt off and going to town on some cheez-its or something. And you know what? He deserves it.

Opal

I’m counting short films because I feel like Opal is the movie for Pickles. He’d watch it on a whim, because these are not usually the types of things he enjoys, and then he’d in tears over the emotional rollercoaster he did not agree to go on. Like, he grew up in a neglective household with authority figures that were overly-selfish and projected their own problems onto the youngest one in the house, to which he had to hide within his own brain more often than not just to properly function. And then he just…watched it happen all again in the hypnotic style of Jack Stauber. The Mom’s song had him in gasping tears for a while, the way you get when a movie somehow perfectly captures your own trauma right in front of you. And the ending??? Ugh. Go watch Opal, guys, it’s on YouTube.

Nathan and Pickles both get very emotional about certain stop-motion films, isn’t that crazy?

House

Thank you to Lucy for this Letterbox review that I think he would write

Anyway-

This movie is actually so insane. It’s not scary in a horror-movie way, like it meant to be, it’s scary as in ‘What the hell is happening and why do I understand it?’ Pickles doesn’t like most traditional horror films, as the long, quiet suspense bores him and the sudden jumpscares freak him the hell out way more than they should. But he loves the campy-wacko-type horror that they were apparently making in 70s Japan. It’s just scary enough to get his heart pumping, but the pure silliness of it all overrides that, getting him in a giddy mood and excited to see what happens next.

(No I am not done but tumblr won’t let me add more pictures)

[crguang]

Hi. I hope you don't mind if I send both a FMK some thirst?

For FMK:

Fuck Black Swan: I think she'd be a fanastic lay and, like, look at her splash art and tell me she wouldn't look gorgous with her hair spread out beneath her while you ate her out or pinned her down.

Marry Himeko: She's got those dommy mommy vibes (Though to be fair so does Kafka.) and I think she'd be a very patient, very kind lover. Domestic life with Himeko would be a pleasure. Easily the best lover of the women on this list.

Kill Jingliu: She's kind of awful. Sure the same could be said about Kafka but Kafka at least is implied to be trying to do some good and the game at least has given me reasons to like and care for her. The same can't be said of Jingliu. Easily the least likable of the women on the character list in my opinion. Killing her wouldn't be easily and I'd probably die trying/shortly after but still.

As far prompts/thirst goes imagine Himeko and Black Swan working to give reader a blowjob together. They'd get you so worked up and, well, it's not surprising if one or both of them end up deepthroating you in the end.

me reading this while jingliu’s in my top 3 favourite characters in the game……… if you think kafka generally has good intentions i have some news for you you’re not gonna like🙁 that woman destroyed entire civilizations (two planets. TWO.) and is solely working for her own benefit, what has jingliu done but be a victim?! ‘awful’ is too harsh for my baby i could argue for days about her but i wont… i wont! you don’t have to like her, more for me😋

that said if its between the 3 of them id have the same answers you gave LMFAOOO though with hesitation on the jingliu part because her voice makes me insane and i need her to talk me through it. it’s not a single person in this game who could stop me from having sex with black swan. like she’s the best of both worlds to me cause she’s a switch and im a service top, we would not leave that room until Fuli themself appeared and told her to go back to work. marry hime, my princess, i put her on such a high pedestal if she was real id have the unhealthiest attachment to her. literally the sweetest, most reliable, romantic woman ever. i write about her like im in love with her and i AM. if i kill jingliu it’s in the context of her dying at the hands of someone she loves and not the abundance, with a clear mind and no hatred in her eyes. she deserves peace😞

black swan and himeko… together… i gasped like a nun seeing a girl’s bare shoulders at church. they’d be so teasing about it, especially swan; she makes sure to run her hands all over your body before one of them even dips between your legs and since she’s not human, her palms are the softest you’ll ever experience. she’s not shy about it either, she’s very forward and will playfully brush down the hollow of throat with her fingertips, move across your collarbones and over your bare chest. himeko’s hand rests on your stomach, tracing imaginary shapes into your skin while her lips attach to your neck in nice, gentle kisses. their pace is deliberately slow, torturous, to have you breathing heavier and desperate enough to beg a little.

“Mmm? How impatient…” swan’s words are husky and carefully enunciated with a teasing lilt to them. she teases, but seeing how worked up you are, that hard bulge in your underwear begging to be freed, she gives you what you want.

like i said, the skin of her hands is the smoothest ever. it’s heaven against you and she strokes you like she wants to feel the entirety of your shaft in her palm. himeko joins her almost immediately and swallows your moans with her mouth. i think black swan does some things for the aesthetic so her nails are longer and perfectly manicured, a lavender-pink color to match her accessories. they graze your length in feather-like touches and you can’t help bucking further into her hand. himeko can easily match the pace of whoever she’s with. she’ll tease you just as much though she’ll soothe you with languid kisses and murmurs near your ear.

“Just let us take care of you, okay?”

with both of their hands stroking you, pumping you to oblivion, with himeko’s at the base and swan’s circling your tip, you come in minutes. like who wouldn’t… swan is closer, so she’s the first to take you into her mouth after spurts of your release coats their skin. she’s teasing there too, swirls her tongue around your tip and slides it down the underside of your cock, but she’s mostly enjoying herself rather than looking to make a mess of you. himeko strokes your inner thigh, watches swan’s movements with parted lips, before taking initiative and tangling her fingers in her lilac hair to pull her off of you so she can taste you through a messy, sloppy kiss. you’re throbbing just watching their tongues exchange cum and saliva and hearing their low hums and breathless moans. they take turns sucking you off, you’re definitely drenched once they finally decide to give you some reprieve <3

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Thank you for the advice! On the topic of the Miracle Box and character bloat, I do struggle with the latter as I'm quite fond of the Miracuclass and have already attach myself to them. I do want to give them character developments since the show never did, but I am aware that having a massive cast will be difficult to write. For now my source of inspiration is Young Justice since they have a huge cast of heroes as well.

As for the Miracle Box and the shows rep on Chinese representation, I'm curious to hear your thoughts and what you would have done about it. I am Chinese-Indonesian and we celebrate Chinese New Year so I'm pretty familiar with the Chinese Zodiac. There is a story that about the origin of the Chinese Zodiac, the emperor held a contest to decide the animals that will be included in the calendar. The first is the rat and the last being the pig. Interestingly enough a cat originally wanted to join the contest only for its spot to be stolen by the rat.

The massive cast could have worked if they got ride of Marinette being the source of everything wrong in the universe and just had each episode deal with a conflict caused by one classmate or another, so I don't think you have to abandon them if you're going to match canon's monster-of-the-week format. Just be aware that it's downright impossible to write 18 characters (all the teens) or 36 characters (teens + kwamis - Nooroo) in a single scene and have the audience be able to follow what's going on. I'd strongly encourage you to scrap making most of them heroes and just keep them normal teens, but it is ultimately your call as you're the one who knows what story you want to tell.

I absolutely get the temptation to use the whole class because I personally love Rose and Juleka, but I ultimately chose to keep them as minor background characters because that's what was best for the story and I live by the code of kill your darlings since my goal as a writer is telling good stories.

I'm familiar with the Zodiac myth because of the anime Fruits Basket, but I am not Chinese* nor am I an expert in Chinese symbology and beliefs*. Please keep that in mind as I discuss this next section. If I get something wrong, then anyone is welcome to chime in and correct me or to give further context as this stuff is really hard to research if you don't read the Chinese language and/or if you don't have a background in this stuff to help set off your BS detector. A random blog could have good info or it could be written by a person making stuff up and I don't have the background to tell, so I'm skeptical of all of them which is why we're just going to talk about what's on Wikipedia here since that's usually at least mostly accurate and it gives us enough info for me to explain why I took one look at the zodiac stuff and went, "Hell no!"

My rewrite came about long before we knew all of the powers of the zodiac miraculous, so one of the first things that I had to do was figure out what to do about that because I wasn't going to just make up powers. I was going to base my stuff on the actual zodiac since I do try to be respectful to other cultures. This lead to me researching the Chinese zodiac*.

I very quickly realized how complicated this thing was. Every animal in the zodiac is associated with personality traits, two of the other animals, one of the five elements, and either yin or yang as well as several other things. I'll also note that Western representation of the zodiac has simplified it as there's more than just the 12 animals of the years. There are also animal signs assigned to the month (called "inner animals"), day (called "true animals"), and hour (called "secret animals") of your birth.

In other words, there's a lot of depth to the Chinese zodiac* and it has real cultural significance in China.

I was immediately wildly uncomfortable trying to come up with random powers that somehow respected that depth and significance. I also realized that the show didn't seem to be using the real zodiac to guide the powers it had assigned or the way the kwamis were being written, which also made me uncomfortable! I had previously assumed that they must have a cultural consultant to guide the cultural elements, but that does not seem to be the case for any element of the lore or Marinette's writing. Like to point out a big one, as best I can tell, a miracle box based on Chinese lore would not use a ladybug for good luck and it definitely wouldn't use a black cat for bad luck.

In other words, the miracle box seems to be about as Chinese as fortune cookies.

Between all of that, the character bloat, and the fact that the team is fighting one villain (meaning that you really don't need 17 powers), I decided to completely scrap the idea of the miracle box being tied to a specific culture and came up with my own lore that I won't go into here.

If I had the money to hire a cultural consultant or personal knowledge of Chinese* beliefs, then I would have considered redesigning all of the zodiac miraculous to be based on Chinese* beliefs and changed them into powerups to replace the colored macarons and cheese that have basically been forgotten about. (We are never seeing what the last three colors are for. Never!) I think that would have made more sense than the potions and it would have been more fun/limiting. It's basically how the show is using the zodiac anyway. The temp heroes are defined by their powers and little else since Ladybug is the only team member who is allowed to have a meaningful role on the team.

Basically, the Zodiac animals have a ton of potential to be something really cool that teaches us about Chinese* beliefs and I would love, love, love to see someone take that on. I mean, why have a main character who is half-Chinese and a box based on Chinese lore* if you're not going to capitalize on that?

*I bet you were wondering about all the red asterixis up there, weren't you? Well, buckle in because it gets worse.

I am not going to touch on this further because I am wildly unequipped to do so, but I would be remiss to not acknowledge the fact that the miracle box is said to be Chinese, but the miraculous monks are explicitly stated to be Tibetan, which is yet another "hell no!" There is a massive conflict over the fact that China claims that Tibet is not a country, but a part of China while Tibet claims to be its own nation. Some brief research on my part indicates that Tibet may even have its own beliefs around the zodiac and no. Just no. No, no, no! I'm not touching that minefield for a million dollars! Idk what the writers were thinking combining the two cultures like that, but that does seem to be what they're doing otherwise it would be the Tibetan miracle box or the monks would be in China. Writers, what are you doing?

Once again, I am not a part of any of the above cultures and I am not claiming to be an expert on them. I am just giving you my logic for why I took one look at the miracle box and went running for the hills. Aka why redesigned it to not be a mine field for my personal ethical code what which can be summed up as "research and represent all cultures to the best of my ability as cultures are not aesthetic. If I don't want to do the research (or can't for some reason), don't tie the setting/lore/whatever to a real culture." I'm not claiming to be perfect about that, but I do try and I like to think I know when I'm wildly out of my depth which was 100% the case here. No. Just no. No, no, no.