#always here if you need a chat

[little-pup-pip]

Hey, so how would I go about finding a CG?

That's a great question, but I don't know, exactly! Here's the thing, my anonymous friend, this question is not something I can give lots of one-size-fits-all advice about! I don't know your personal relationships, your age, or anything about you! However, I can give a little advice.

Everyone's journey with this is going to be different. Personally, I was lucky to find a partner who was open to the idea of being my CG, and the transition into that role happened very organically, but not everyone has that. Just like some people's CG's are their friends, and I've never had that!

How you find a CG for yourself truly depends on your circumstances. I would start by thinking about whether you can ask anyone who's currently in your life about it! I say this because you already know the people around you, and I want you to be as safe as possible. I know feeling lonely sucks. I felt the same way for a long time, and having someone be there when you regress is great, but you need to be safe, too.

And if there isn't anyone in your current personal circle you want to be your CG, I advise having a lot of caution if you look for someone online!! I'm serious!! Especially if you're a minor!! I don't want you to be afraid, but I want you to be vigilant with this.

If you go the online route, we have a great agere community here on Tumblr, and engaging with other regressors and CG's is a great place to start! This is a relationship dynamic that requires a lot of trust, and in my opinion you should have an established friendship with someone before asking them to be your CG. It should take a lot of trust to want/have someone to be responsible for you in such a vulnerable state!! Anyway, this is very long, so I'll stop here. I wish you lots of luck, friend!

[infernalmelancholy]

okay i've been seeing more and more people, especially fic writers and fan artists, leaving social media because of the way they're being treated and it's becoming worrying.

fandom creators are not celebrities (not that you should treat celebrities horribly either but y'know what i mean.) most of the time they're teenagers or young adults just making some art in their room at 3am about a thing they like.

you have no right to make demands or offer unsolicited criticism. no right. it's the equivalent of banging on your neighbor's door to let them know you don't like how they've decorated their garden. it's their garden. you can look at it. you can like or dislike it. and then you move along. you're not allowed to demand that they change it.

and when people share things about their personal life online that is not an invitation for you to invade their privacy or converse with complete strangers like they're your childhood besties.

respect people's boundaries. ask for permission before offering your opinion. just be fucking nice to people please.

[wyvernquill]

More Dreamling Anastasia AU

Because I must obviously be stricken down for my hubris if I say I refuse to write something. (Masterpost can be found here!)

This one’s an earlier bit, while they’re still trying to teach “Murphy” how to act like Dream, and first encounter The Corinthian - so please be aware that there will be Corinthian-typical mentions of stabbing and blood in this excerpt!

(Tagging @10moonymhrivertam again, and also open invitation for anyone who wants to be notified of new updates to tell me so, and I’ll tag you when/if I write other scenes!)

---

“Do the list again.”

“Hob…” Murphy sighs, visibly annoyed, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and face ducked into his scarf. There are snowflakes caught in the dark tangle of his hair, and Hob wonders briefly if he would accept Hob’s hat, or look at it with the same disgusted grimace he pulled when he was offered one of Gil’s spare cardigans.

“Come on. Again.” Hob encourages. “You’ll need to know it by heart, it has to be ingrained so deeply into you that I should be able to wake you up at three in the night and have you recite it perfectly.”

“Do not dare to wake me up at three in the night!” Murphy snarls, and they will really have to work on that temper - Gilbert is very insistent that Dream of the Endless’s fury was fierce, yes, but quiet, controlled, and merciless in its silence. These outbursts don’t befit a Dream King, and they’ll have to go.

“I was speaking metaphorically!” Hob laughs and holds up his hands defensively. “I know better than to disturb your sleep, rest assured. Matthew would peck my eyes out, for a start.”

(Judging from the look on Murphy’s face, the man would approve of that course of events, and possibly praise his raven afterwards.)

“But the list. Go on, Lord Morpheus, the list.”

Murphy sighs again, turning his face up to the snow-grey night sky. Hob is suddenly quite glad Gilbert shooed them out for a walk, to clear Murphy’s head after another long day of lessons - more lessons tomorrow, and then they’ll be travelling again over the weekend, always busy or on the move. It’s quite lovely, to have this moment of tranquillity, in the dark and the snow, and to see Murphy… well. Less frustrated and harried than he usually is, solemn and thoughtful and with chapped lips from the frost.

“Destiny, the oldest, in the maze, with the book.” He recites, only slightly sullen. “Death, the second, everywhere and everywhen, but always where she’s needed, with the ankh. Dream, the third-”

“Include the names.”

“Ugh. Dream of the Endless, Lord Morpheus, the King of Dreams, Ruler of the Nightmare Realms, the Shaper of Form, Kai’ckul-”

“Kai-what?” Hob frowns. He hasn’t heard that one before.

“-Oneiros or the Oneiromancer, and the Lord of Stories.” Murphy continues, undeterred, slogging through the list just to have it be over quicker. “There, the names. Now: Dream, in the Dreaming, with the ruby - and sometimes the helmet and the sand. Always with a raven. Next, Destruction-”

.

“No, please,” drawls a voice behind them. “Tell us more about Dream.”

.

They both freeze.

Hob turns slowly, stepping to the side just slightly, just enough so he will be in range to shove Murphy behind himself, should it become necessary.

“I do so love bedtime stories,” the stranger who has approached them is grinning broadly, in a tan suit and coat much too thin for this weather, and dark glasses - sunglasses? At night!? - covering his eyes. “Though I always like ‘em best when they have gory endings. When the stepsisters cut their feet to fit into the glass slipper in the Grimm brothers’ version of Cinderella? Boy, I could listen to that all night.”

The man is holding a long knife in his hand, the sort not made for cutting anything but the flesh of your fellow man, toying with it - and Hob feels a prickle of fear slide down his spine.

“Who are you, to disturb us?” Murphy snaps haughtily, and Hob would be pleased at the excellent noble-arrogant cadence, if he weren’t suddenly fucking terrified of Murphy getting a knife in between the ribs for his cheek.

“Me?” The man laughs, throwing the knife up in the air, glittering, twirling, before catching it again. “You don’t remember little old me?”

The man’s teeth are too white, Hob notes, too bright, and too *many* when he smiles like this.

.

“I’m your worst nightmare, my Lord,” he says, still smiling - and then lunges forward, knife first.

.

Hob moves instantly, instinctively, without even a moment’s hesitation.

With his elbow, he shoves Murphy back, out of the way, and then bats the man’s knife arm off-course, coming in swinging with the other fist. It connects with an audible crack, but their assailant only laughs, giddy and breathless, and spits out half a mouthful of blood - is there some dripping from his eyes under the glasses, too - before evading Hob’s grip on his arm and dancing out of the way.

“Murphy, run!” Hob shouts over his shoulder, heart beating in his throat, blood up and boiling. He hasn’t gotten into alleyway fights in a year or two, but it’s familiar, the tang of blood, the rush of adrenaline. He’s always liked the brawls where there wasn’t a sharp object involved better, just two men and their fists - but if this madman wants a fight, he’ll damn well get one. Hob’s put better people than him in hospital.

Hob charges forward, goes for a grab at the knife arm again, and manages a short grapple, a kick at a shin, the tip of the knife wavering as they twist against each other, and slicing a red-hot line of pain along the side of Hob’s jaw - the man’s still grinning, holy shit, that’s unsettling - before the other twists himself free again with almost unnatural strength, and Hob has to jump back before that knife goes somewhere vital.

“Well, aren’t’cha quite the fighter, Hobsie?” The assailant says, with his dozens of bone-white teeth bared. “I’m glad. Makes it more fun to carve into you when you struggle a li’l bit.”

“Would love to see you try,” Hob spits back, wiping his cheek, his blood dripping red onto the snow.

They throw themselves at each other again, and the man is impossibly strong, delivering an almost casual punch against Hob’s sternum that knocks the breath out of him, forcing him back a couple stumbling steps.

And Hob knows he should run, too. The best way to win a streetfight is to not be in one, and he’s not keen on getting stabbed. Would be a waste, to die now, when he’s so close to earning himself immortality…

…but he needs to buy Murphy time.

The thought alone, of seeing Murphy dead in the snow, blood pooling around him in and coat spread out like broken wings - he can’t bear it. He’s got the man into this fucking mess, and he cannot let Murphy die because of his con. This is supposed to be a win-win situation for them all, not a threat to anyone’s life!

And if somebody’s life is threatened, it better be Hob’s own. Only fair - he gets the biggest reward in the end, he should shoulder the brunt of the risk as well.

Hob coughs one last time, eyeing the blood-red tip of the assailant’s knife. He won’t die here, he refuses to, and he’ll fight until the bitter end if-

.

“Wait,” Murphy says, and Hob’s heart stutters in his chest.

.

The idiot! The absolute fool! Hob told him to run, why the fuck is he still here!?

Hob gets barely more than a second of panic in before Murphy steps up beside him, glowering darkly at the man with the knife…

And then, in a movement quick as a flash, he throws a handful of salt-grit-sand mix - the sort the city keeps in large containers alongside the streets in wintertime, to make the snow and ice safer to traverse - straight into the man’s face.

The man screeches, voice strangely dissonant, as if it comes from three mouths at once, and jerks back sputtering, dropping his knife and covering his face with his hands.

Hob kicks the knife away, out of reach, on instinct - and then he feels a bony hand curl around his own, dragging him away, and he lets it, running hand in hand with Murphy for dear life.

(There are angry shouts behind them, threats, but Hob never looks back, only squeezing the cold palm against his harder.)

.

They run, and run, and run, until they finally reach the relative safety and familiarity of the street outside their inn, both gasping for breath as they lean against its walls.

“You… need not… have come…” Murphy wheezes, his thin chest heaving under his thick coat, even as his eyes are burning with indignation, “to my… defence!”

“Clearly!” Hob rasps, sliding to the ground, uncaring for the snowmelt soaking through his trousers. “Still… I didn’t want to be standing in front of the Endless alone, in a few weeks’ time.”

He grins up at Murphy - the wound along his cheek burning as he does it - and the sharp retort about being perfectly capable of handling himself in a fight visibly dies on Murphy’s lips.

He crouches down besides Hob, coat puffing up around him, and brings one hand up to cup Hob’s jaw, to turn it and inspect the line of red their attacker’s knife left there. Thumbs the cut, smearing warm blood along Hob’s cheekbone.

“You were hurt,” he murmurs, dark voice almost wavering with distress.

“Shallow cut.” Hob catches Murphy’s wrist before he can fuss any more with the wound, rubs a thumb soothingly over the thin bones there. “I’ll live.”

“Foolish man,” Murphy grumbles - but he’s very nearly smiling as he says it.

Their eyes meet.

They’re both still breathing hard, and for all his haggard, skeletal build and sunken face lined with long years of hardship, Murphy looks almost lovely like this, lips slightly parted and pale face flushed with exertion, looking up at Hob through his lashes as if…

As if…

Hob leans forward, and Murphy does too, something burning bright and smouldering hot between them, lips getting close enough to brush-

.

“ROBERT! MURPHY!” Gilbert slams open the door beside them, and they both jerk apart as if burned.

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re here!” Gilbert flusters, wringing his hands on the grip of his cane. “I had the most terrible premonition that my two dear friends were in danger, most ghastly, so I rushed- Robert, are you bleeding!?”

“I’m fine, Gil,” Hob tries to wave him off - to little avail.

Hob is ushered up into their room, sat down, and then berated by Gilbert for his recklessness while Murphy is carefully, studiously, dabbing at Hob’s wound with one of Gilbert’s handkerchiefs and pointedly not making any eye contact.

(Though Matthew is more than making up for that, staring Hob down as if he knows exactly what almost transpired outside the inn’s door, and is rather firmly against the idea of letting it happen again…

Which it surely won’t. It was a mad impulse in the spur of the moment - they both know better, now.

Yes.

They both know better.)

[taegularities]

...one thing i've learned from my job is that people often find it incredibly hard to open up about their struggles bc they feel like they won't be heard or understood, or like they could be a burden.. but i promise someone's ready to listen, yk. sometimes we also see someone act in odd, new or aggressive ways, but there's smth much deeper behind their behaviour that they're keeping buried. if you feel like something's off about someone, don't just deem them "crazy" or "annoying".. do reach out or try to talk to them — you might truly be able to change something for them, big time.

[todayisafridaynight]

seonhee and sawashiro both being associated with purple's the most evil shit in the world now who the fuck am i supposed to put in my purple card holder

[nyxronomicon]

ok I cannot stay silent any longer... you run into college hockey player Toji at his frat's party. He notices you stealing glances all night and even shows off a little if he knows you're looking... but he's otherwise ignoring you bc he's chilling with his bros

except... when you drift away from the group of girls you came in with and some nerd starts chatting you up he decides it's his responsibility to cut in and make sure he's not bothering you (you know, bc it would reflect bad on his fraternity if you had a bad time. bc he doesn't like to see a girl like you bored out of her mind. bc he's sure he saw that guy flirting with someone else 10 minutes ago, he's just trying to get laid. bc Toji is SO sure that guy doesn't care about you... NOT that Toji does but he doesn't wanna see you get hurt)

[words-be-upon-ye]

There are a couple tropes I really love in the space of Miraculous Ladybug fan works, but quite possibly my favorite is when the miraculous holders just get creature from using their powers.

Like yeah, I would say that hosting the power of an abstract concept given sentience, that got shoved into the shape of an animal and bound to a piece of jewelry, would kinda mess with your body a bit.

The little bit of this we get in canon is basically that Adrien loves being a cat and the whole Tikki munches incident.

But I love it when people give them ears and wings and tails, give them eyes that aren't quite human anymore. Fuck with their gender and their sense of body. Sometimes it's body horror, sometimes it's just aesthetic. Love it either way.

I just think it's so fun, a lot of the time it's combined with the like "when a holder and the kawami really respect and bond with each other there's nothing that can be done except having magic bleed into the holder" I think that's fun, but also just making the animal of the kwami a bigger deal is fun. Like if you're going to make it a ladybug you might as well give her wings and antenna and mirrored eyes.

[gregmarriage]

will always have to begrudgingly remember (and hate the fact) that one must find joy in the small things in life, and live in the present

[volivolition]

pspspsp heyyyy if you liked good morning sunshine you might also like Joy Joy Joy also by the narcissist cookbook :3c v much an electrochemistry song tbh FBFBSJSJ

HI!! <3 MAN THIS GUY HAS SUCH FITTING LYRICS!! NARCISSIST COOKBOOK HOW DO YOU DO IT? <33 orugh YEAH THIS IS A PERFECT ECHEM SONG YOU'RE ENTIRELY CORRECT. head in my hands as i read along with the lyrics. the bright nonsense beginning and the descent into a more sullen self-awareness. ough im not normal about either of these songs :'] electrochemistry my darling dopamine chaser i care about him so deeply <3

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Hello, I was simply imagining decorating a Christmas tree with our beloved moth boy, or also buying him a Christmas present. I don't know, I just want a Merry Christmas...

Really where I live you don't really feel the Christmas spirit at all, it's kind of depressing to be honest 😔

aaaaaa my dear i'm giving you the biggest hug :((( if this helps, i hope you have a very merry christmas this year!!!!

i can imagine you getting a little tree for your house :DD something small, since you and Foul Legacy need the room, but still big enough to be decorated!! i feel like Childe's family was always pretty into holiday festivities, especially once he joined the Fatui because that's usually when he comes home!! this year though, he's not home- he's with you, which is even better!!! since you live alone the holidays aren't nearly as rambunctious, they're more peaceful, quieter, your soft smile illuminating every corner of the house. you tug him over to decorate the little tree, the ornaments you have set out and displayed for choice. although there's only a few of them, they're elegant and clearly precious to you, so Childe holds them as delicately as he possibly can with those sharp claws of his, helping you decide which ones to hang where

if you get Childe a gift, no matter how small you think it is, he's over the moon. he loooves getting gifts for his siblings, but because he's away from home a lot no one really gets stuff for him- which he doesn't mind!! spending time with loved ones is enough for him- but the fact that you took time out of your day to get and wrap something for him makes his heart absolutely melt. you'll see him staring at the gift, gently poking the ribbon and fluttering his wings happily when it shifts. there's not much in terms of items that he can get for you, since he dislikes going into the city, but he'll make sure to lavish you with affection whenever you're home, even more than usual!! it's his way of saying thank you :))

also if you're wrapping other gifts he'll let you tie a bow around his horns :D

[bees-with-swords]

Joining a Discord server with too many channels is like walking into a mcmansion, I swear. Half the rooms are full of dust sheets and the family has just been shouting at each other from across the house for the past year.

[maximum-father]

te amo, te amo, te amo.

[ggukkiereads]

Hi! A saw your post about ARoseForYoongi moving accounts? But I checked and the account seems to be deleted? (Did they permanently delete or move again? I really loved their fics, especially Young Alpha (I read that religiously lmao) and I looked everywhere and couldn't find it). Do you know if they're still active or...?

🌷Hi! I was actually checking earlier because I was thinking about “The Marriage Law” then saw that they deactivated - and for real this time 🥺🥹😭.

.

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Not to bombastrap on main, but context not withstanding at all, the "You came. You called." Tiktok audio gives me major bombastrap feelings.

Specifically, it gives me bombastrap feelings in the way that...Bombalurina has spent a lot of her life independent and flighty, and a long time protecting others with her walls up, that at first it’s difficult to accept that there are cats in the world who care about her well-being - that will come for *her* every time, to *her* defense, no matter the situation. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Of course I came; why wouldn’t I? 

[todayisafridaynight]

looking back on all my y7 comics is so funny but now im compelled to organize them 'chronologically' and see what that looks like

[grimmoire]

hi! you’re really so super great! I hope you had a great day and that you are doing well!! imy!!!!!

Hi!! No you are!! And I hope your day was great and if not I hope tomorrow is kinder to you!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡