#cause if it was anyone else people would not be acting this mentally ill

[leahthedreamer]

People on twitter acting like Shoma is gonna chuck Sota off the plane to worlds because he said the JSF’s selection criteria is bullshit are very ridiculous like it’s really not deep and their “criteria” has always been questionable and hypocritical.

[delicatetaysversion]

spending my whole life trying and trying and trying and trying to be good enough for people who don't give a fuck about me

[foone]

on "that sounds like me, do I have ADHD?"

So a thing about ADHD (and probably all mental illnesses, but especially ADHD) is that it doesn't really have any hyper-specific symptoms. Like, it's not like you get ADHD and your elbow turns green, which only happens with ADHD.

ADHD describes a bunch of symptoms, some with shared origins, some which might have different origins, but the important thing to remember is that you can have all those symptoms for reasons other than ADHD.

Time blindness? it can happen to anyone because you got caught up in something. being unable to sit still? it can be caused by any number of physical (and mental!) things, not just ADHD. unable to concentrate? that can happen because of chronic pain, depression, brain fogginess, etc.

So the important thing to remember is that if you see someone (like me) ranting about their ADHD experience, if you identify with that situation, it doesn't necessarily mean you have ADHD.

You might have depression (monopolar or bipolar). or be autistic. or some forms of OCD. or have chronic pain.

Now, by all means, go to a doctor, talk about these symptoms, get tested, get medicated, get therapy, whatever! I'm just saying that you shouldn't jump to ADHD as a definite diagnosis.

ADHD is definitely one of those diagnosis where we drew a circle around some symptoms and said "this is ADHD", if there's no other reason to have those symptoms. Like, if you take a person and keep them awake for 36 hours and feed them a ton of coffee they'll probably act very "ADHD", but it doesn't really mean you need to put them on adderal, even if they're showing a lot of the symptoms of ADHD. You should look for other solutions to their problem, like letting them get some sleep and cutting the caffeine.

And the same is true with ADHD. All the symptoms of ADHD are things that you can have for a bunch of other reasons, many of which can be treated (and treated better!) in other ways.

Depression is a good example: Depressed people can have executive dysfunction issues, trouble concentrating, poor planning, difficulty in finishing things. Would giving them stimulants (like Adderal and Ritalin) help? Maybe somewhat... but it wouldn't help the underlying depression problem! Getting therapy and antidepressants is likely going to be much more effective, since you're treating the condition that is causing the ADHD symptoms. (and if those symptoms don't go away when the depression is cured/managed, maybe they also need stimulants!).

ANYWAY to sum up: Don't worry too much if you see someone with ADHD complaining about something that they do because of ADHD and you go "that's just like me". ADHD isn't that kind of condition, just because you have one or several of the symptoms doesn't mean you have it, you could easily have something else that causes the same or similar symptoms.

And finally: This isn't meant as a thinly-veiled "don't self-diagnose" rant. You go ahead and self-diagnose all you want. I'm just saying that you should consider other possibilities before ADHD, because it may be more effective and easier to treat those conditions than to treat ADHD. (And I say that whether you're self-diagnosing or talking to a doctor: Hopefully your doctor is well-informed enough to know there is a lot of overlap between symptoms, and will ask about other possibilities )

[badaziraphaletakes]

Making jokes and laughing about a frightening experience does NOT mean someone does not appreciate the gravity of a situation. Quite the contrary, in fact - it is a very, very common way of processing trauma.

In fact, I can't offhand think of any traumatized people I know who haven't make a joke about their traumatic experience/s. It's a deeply normal, human thing to do.

(And please don't try to tell me Aziraphale seeing Crowley be kidnapped and then being hit over the head with a crowbar (?), violently kidnapped himself, and dragged to hell, and then seeing the awful people and place Crowley had been stuck with for the past 100k+ years, witnessing the usher being murdered in cold blood before his eyes, and wondering if the same thing might happen to him, and/or if he hell was going to discover his and Crowley's secret, not to mention seeing for probably the first time what exactly the thermos of holy water would have done to Crowley if he'd used it, wasn't traumatic. First of all, that just is. Second of all, look at his irises. He was probably having a bit of fun - not surprising considering how relieved he was that the holy water didn't work on him and hell appeared not to have caught onto the deception; of course you'd be a bit giddy - but he was also terrified and scarred and angry and disgusted and I don't even know what else.)

There's a reason the rates of depression found among comedians are off-the-charts. And it's not because humor causes depression (we know it actually alleviates it). It's because traumatized people and people with mental illness (I mean, the Venn diagram between those groups is basically a circle, but y'know) gravitate to humor. It is one of the most powerful weapons we have to ward off despair. Humor can save us when nothing else can.

It can also stop you from wanting to punch someone when you're really, really angry. I propose that we can see smoldering contempt and fury and outrage and disgust on Aziraphale's face at the end of the scene, hidden just under that cheeky grin. It's some masterful acting work by Tennant, so many emotions going on at the same time.

Also - may I point out that Crowley loved Aziraphale's jokes about the whole thing. Aziraphale knows how to cheer Crowley up. A big part of the reason he was so sarcastic in hell was for Crowley, to score some points against the people who have been oppressing him for millennia without him ever being able to answer back. (And also he was acting that way because he figured it was how Crowley would act and he had to be convincing. If he'd gone in there and hadn't been 100% confidence and swagger, hell would have noticed something was off. They're paranoid, and Beelzebub, at least, is smart. No flies on that one. Heh, heh. Did Aziraphale overplay it a bit? Maybe. But the deception worked, so clearly his approach was correct overall.)

And finally: Don't tell me Crowley wasn't having a little fun with all this, too. His laugh on the bench was sincere:

He could arguably also be accused of overplaying it a bit with the neck cracking (which I don't blame him for; I would have done the same - but I don't see anyone getting mad at him for having a little fun the way they did with Azi):

And he LOVED getting to breathe fire at Gabriel & Co.

Which is exactly as it should be. :)

[xclowniex]

Aaron Bushnell recently killed himself by setting himself on fire in front of the Israeli Embassy in the US as a form of protest against Israel.

I have seen a few pro pal people say that he wasn't mentally ill and just partook in an extreme form of protest.

The thing is, you don't just kill yourself if you're mentally fine.

It is not mentally healthy for a person to go "I'm going to kill myself for this cause I believe in".

If it was we would see a lot more people killing themselves. Yet we don't.

He was an extremist.

He literally did stuff that terrorists do.

From the whole self sacrifice thing that suicide bombers and mass shooter do when they kill themselves.

To the whole live stream yourself in the act that terrorists like the person who will not be named did when he attacked multiple mosques in New Zealand in 2019.

The only difference is that he did not directly harm anyone else.

How can you sit here and critique terrorist and white supremists for the same behavior but think it's justified when it's for a cause you agree with.

Cause that's the only difference.

The only differences are that he didn't directly harm anyone else and he also did it for a cause you agree with.

None of what he did is something a mentally sane person would do.

[dokoni-mo]

Crave: Part Three || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: Your first time with him.

NSFW // smut

word count: 8,088

warnings: age gap relationship (reader is 20 while William is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, allusions to dysfunctional parent-child relationships, talks of divorce and custody battles, smoking, will is a bit delusional, will has scars, corruption kink, usage of pet names, Will is a bit of a creep, obsessive behavior like REALLY obsessive, and possessive, sensual touching, swearing, Michael is briefly in this too, kissing, brief and faint sir kink, breeding kink, aftercare, also yandere vibes for a very little tiny bit, praise, body worship, fingering, virginity loss, premature ejaculation, dom/sub undertones, general smut lol

minors dni // please read warnings!!

a/n: omg omg my first fic back!! I had to polish off the rust (esp with writing smut) but i got so many requests for part three of this I just had to!! anyways I hope yall enjoy!! Ive tagged a few people whom I thought would like to read this, but if you'd like me to not tag you pls let me know! enjoy! (also just a little disclaimer, i do NOT condone this type of relationship irl!! this is just my take on being with Willy)

part one // part two // part four

~~

William could remember the first time he ever laid eyes on you. He remembered it as plain as day and recounted it often.

In fact, it was probably one of the most solidified memories in his mind. Even more so than the birth of his children, or even the day he married his ex-wife. He could recall every single little detail; what clothes you and him wore, what you smelled like that day, how you styled your hair. Every last little bit, he remembered. The first meeting is always important, yes. But this one was much more important to William. In a way in which he doubted anyone but you would understand.

For it was the first time in nearly all his life that William wasn't faking.

From very early on, William knew he wasn't normal. Or, at the very least, what everyone else deemed as normal. Even as a boy, William was hard to excite, or even get some sort of reaction out of. Toys, games, new friends, holidays; none of it was ever appealing to him. He found it all boring. It caused his mother great worry too. William could see the way she looked at him. Even as a boy, he knew what that look meant.

Perhaps that's why he began to lash out in his early years. That's why he was labeled a "problem child".

William had thought that if conventional means of joy and excitement couldn't elicit a response out of him, perhaps other means would. Lying, cheating, getting into trouble. It had some effect, he had to admit. The thrill of it all. He had gotten pretty good at not being caught, too. But, of course he would slip up some times. That's when the trouble arose. William was emotive, at last, sure. But no one liked it. At least, no one liked how it came about. His mother often scolded him. Teachers too. And, if William had a father that gave two shits, he was sure he would've received punishment from the man as well.

It was confusing. Terribly, terribly confusing. Couldn't he finally be happy doing what he loved? That's all his mother wanted, wasn't it? What everyone else wanted, too? For William to find himself, and be emotive?

Then why were they mad at him. Every. Single. Time.

It was frustrating. And, the more frustrated William grew, the more he acted out.

It was a balancing match made in hell. And William grew tired of it all. William accepted that in order for him to have peace, he must comply. Mr. Afton would have to wear a mask of his own face, and be what everyone wanted him to be.

Charming. Handsome. Intelligent. Charismatic. Great husband. Better father. Businessman. Inventor. Successful. Approachable.

William played these charades for nearly 40 years now. Enough to where the lines on his face grew deeper, and the roots of his hair turned grey. He played it through the unpleasant surprise that was his eldest, Michael. Then again at his wedding to that bitch Clara. Again though Elizabeth and Evan's births. Then continued after the divorce. And on through the custody battle. And on and on all the way to now.

Every. Single. Day. For 40 years.

William was tired of it but found no avenue to stop. If he dropped the act now, he couldn't even imagine the headache that would be the fallout of it all.

He had to keep it up. He had to. This was the life he made for himself. He made his bed long ago, and now he had to sleep in it. William was in a prison of his own making. That no one even knew was constructed. He hated that he got Michael out of all of his kids. He hated his business. He hated his neighbors. He hated his friends that weren't Henry. He hated his fancy house, expensive car, and clothes.

This life was his fate, and how unfortunate he was.

Or so he thought.

He didn't want to pay for Michael's college. William would never admit it out loud, but he thought that boy trying to make something of himself other than a minimum-wage employee was a joke. That's why he forced Michael to pay his own way. In reality, he told Michael it was to "make him more of a man", but William knew his son saw right through it. Michael could be smart, sometimes.

Sometimes.

Because Michael was, in fact, a minimum-wage employee at his father's diner, the young man couldn't afford much else than the local community college. Not that that was a bad thing to the young man; Michael didn't care that much. William wouldn't have cared either way, but Michael's compliance made things easier. And, being around other people his age, Michael was out of the house more often. This meant less fights that William would have to deal with weekly. It was a win-win all around.

And, when Michael was home, he would often be accompanied by one or two of his friends. William didn't mind, as long as his house was kept tidy, and no one made too much noise. Any distraction that would take his idiot of a son away from him was welcome.

If William was around when Michael showed up with a friend, William was polite enough to them. A smile and a how are you, perhaps even a question or two. Just small talk, enough to keep up his façade of good dad, better person.

That was until, years into his university, Michael brought you over.

William was in his house that day, doing paperwork at the kitchen table with a cigarette pluming smoke in the ashtray nearby. The Diner was closed whilst the state was doing their bi-annual health inspection. While Mr. Afton preferred to keep himself occupied to his workshop in the basement, he thought that perhaps a change of scenery could do him some good. Smoking in the basement made it stuffy down there, anyway.

He would later be so, so grateful for this decision.

From the opposite end of the house, William heard Michael's keys in the door, twisting the lock to let the young man in. Listening a second longer, William could discern two sets of feet walking along the wooden lining of his foyer, along with two hushed whispers bantering amongst themselves.

Mr. Afton breathed a quiet sigh through his nose.

Great. Michael was home. And dragged some other runt along the way.

William knew that in order to reach Michael's room, his son and his friend would have to go upstairs. And, much to William's dismay, the entrance to the stairs was positioned in such a way that his son and his friend would have to go through the kitchen.

Great.

Hearing the footsteps grow closer and the whispers louder, Mr. Afton leaned back in his chair, tamping out his cigarette in the process. Grey eyes situated on the paperwork in front of him, William put on his well-rehearsed soft, friendly smile, waiting for his son to show himself.

Michael was the first to round the corner, the care-free smile slowly fading off the young man's face as he saw his father sitting in the kitchen. Sensing Michael's presence in the doorway, William looked up from his work and to his son, his fake smile growing to make up for the disgust he felt.

"Dad..." Michael groaned, "What are you doing here? I thought you had work today..."

William chuckled, "Michael, I told you this morning. Inspection, remember?"

Michael rolled his eyes and sighed, looking around the corner of the door and saying a few more hushed words. Whoever his son's friend was, they must be shy. William couldn't blame them too much. Mr. Afton was probably the most popular guy in town these days, with the amount of business the Diner had brought in.

Michael turned his attention back to his father, "I have a friend over. Is that alright? Or are you gonna throw another fit?"

William clenched his jaw, "Of course, of course, it's no trouble at all! Just keep it quiet upstairs, yeah?"

Rolling his eyes again, Michael said a few more words around the corner before making his way to the stairs. William had dropped his gaze for a moment to fill in a few of his signatures. When he sensed that his son's friend had finally shown themselves around the corner, William looked up to give them a friendly smile.

Oh, and there you were.

Adorable, precious, beautiful, darling you.

The world around him seemed to fade away when William laid his pale grey eyes on you for the first time. Instantly, he knew you were the single most breathtaking creature he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. You put his ex-wife to shame ten times over. A hundred times, even. All of his past flings as well. They were nothing compared to you.

You were a timid little thing. William could tell by the pink on your cheeks and your hands clasped in front of you. You had a small, soft little smile; your lips so perfectly round and plump. The way your hair had framed your face made you look as if you were hung in the Louvre itself. Your eyes were kind, looking at the older man with a warmth William didn't know possible. Genuine warmth, too.

The way you looked at him. The way you carried yourself. The way you smelled, even halfway across the room. The way you smiled. The way those clothes hugged you in all the right places. The way your body curved and bent...

William swallowed the saliva building up the back of his throat. Without noticing, his lips had begun to part, but he was quick to fix it with a smile.

You gave Mr. Afton a tiny little wave as you shuffled awkwardly towards the stairs behind his son, your voice barely above a peep.

"Hi, Mr. Afton." You had said, "Sorry to interrupt you..."

Shit. Your little voice saying his name like that. It matched you so well.

William's smile grew as he leaned forward in his chair, setting his paperwork to the side.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, love." He said in his thickly accented voice, "At least you're getting that one out of my hair for a while, yeah?"

William almost never made jokes at the expense of others. At least, not around everyone else. He kept his true feelings in his mind most of the time. He knew most folk wouldn't react too kindly to what he really thought of them. But you...

You didn't seem the type to need such filters. He could see it already. You were the type of person to tell it how it is, and not apologize for it. Just like how he wanted to be.

How interesting.

You let out a little giggle, covering your mouth with your hand. William could feel his jaw clench again. Why were you hiding yourself from him? He wanted to see your smile. Your laugh was so cute, surely your smile is too.

William felt himself still. William wanted to see it. Your smile. That was the first time he had ever wanted someone's smile. And the fact you laughed at his joke about his son...

"Yeah, well, it's not like I wanted to, but someone's gotta do it!" You responded with sarcasm, Michael's groan making you giggle to yourself again.

Without even having to force it, William felt a laugh bubble up from the bottom of his chest. He heard it reverberate off the walls of his shiny, sleek kitchen, and it surprised him greatly. Mr. Afton couldn't remember the last time he didn't have to force a laugh. Let alone a smile. All attempts from others just made him cringe on the inside.

Idiots.

Michael had dragged you up the stairs after your little joke, annoyed by the banter between you and his father. William's eyes were fixated on you as you disappeared from sight, watching as your cute little legs carried you up his staircase.

From your height compared to his kitchen counter, William could deduce that you were much shorter than him. If he had to guess, you'd probably only about come up to his shoulder. From the lingering smell in the air too, he could tell that you took good care of yourself. You were clean. Fresh. Supple. And, from the tiny bit of your personality he saw that afternoon, William already knew he liked you. In fact, it was from that moment on that William would think of you.

He encouraged Michael to bring over more friends in hopes that you'd come back. If you weren't in his house, William found himself wondering where you were. What you were up to. What your routine was. What he assumed to be an infatuation quickly grew. He begun to think of you more frequently. When sitting down for a meal, he would wonder if you would like what he had made. William wondered what such a cute little thing like you was doing in this nowhere town. Did you have dreams away from here? Is this were you wanted to be? He had never seen you in his diner before, he was sure of it. He would've surely remembered such a pretty little thing. Although, his diner was the talk of the town. For both adults like yourself and for children. So where were you?

You became illusive to him. You were full of mystery, and he had to know more. It would never be enough. He wanted more. William began drilling Michael about who you were. This was met by some animosity by the young man, but William didn't fucking care. Eventually, when Michael became obsolete of information, William took to other means. He would eavesdrop around the diner on the security cameras, hoping one of the other college kids in there would utter your name. It was slim pickings, but the thrill of it is what got to William.

Every single little thing he learned about you was priceless to him. He committed it all to memory, as if you would vanish if he had not. You were a plague to him. It was your name he thought of first thing in the morning, and it was the last thing he moaned quietly into the night. His fantasies grew dirtier by the day. He had imagined you in oh so many different scenarios. Different positions. Places. Outfits.

Everything about you was perfect to William. From the very top of your head to the very bottom of your feet. You were his soulmate. He just knew it. Every single little thing about you had been crafted just for him. Everything you did, said, perfection. He could be so, so good for you, just as you'd be so good for him. He made more than enough money to spoil you rotten. His house was big enough for you to move in. Not that you'd need the extra space. Of course you'd be sharing a bed with him. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Couldn't you see it? How you and him were meant to be? Couldn't you picture your budding life together with him? This is what all those years of suffering were for. To lead him to you. You were his everything. His sun, moon and stars. The oxygen he breathed. The food he ate. The ground he walked on. All of it.

You.

His precious, precious little bunny.

~~

William already knew he loved you. He did, he really did. He didn't have to fake that part about him. Loving you came as naturally to him as breathing. And with you pinned underneath him, Mr. Afton felt as if he was on cloud 9.

Sure, this isn't exactly how he'd plan things to go. He didn't want to have his first time with you on his couch. You were better than that. You deserved all the nice things he had to offer. But William wasn't too sure he could contain himself long enough to carry you to his bedroom. He had already waited so long to have you. Surely you wouldn't mind, right?

You didn't seem to, at the very least. As the man continued to grope and squeeze at your chest, his other hand ripping his tie off, he studied your face carefully. His pale eyes never left your pretty little face, not even for a moment. Your cute little hands were gripping the fabric of his couch, and soft little moans escaped past your puffy lips every so often. Your eyes were focused on his arm rather than his face.

He found this to be a shame. He understood that you were probably embarrassed, perhaps even overwhelmed. This was your first time with him, after all. Oh, but it just wouldn't do, little bunny. He wanted your eyes on him.

Where they should be.

After finally getting his black tie off, William used his free hand to slip underneath your chin, using his pointer finger and thumb to tilt it up towards him. Your glossy doe eyes met his, and he could feel an uncontrollable grin creep across his handsome features.

Just look at you. Not even five minutes in, and already so eager to please him. William could see how much you were enjoying yourself already, the pleasure of it all making the ache in his pants all the more tighter.

Patience, William, patience. The night is still young.

You are something to be savored. Not just a quick fix.

"(Y/N), my darling," Mr. Afton said to you, feeling the heat radiating off your cheeks, "keep your eyes on me. I want to see you, love."

William leaned down to kiss you again, feeling how your hands gently found a spot on his chest before he could do so.

"W-wait..." you peeped out, making William still his movements. He pulled away from you for a moment, his smile falling as he looked into your worried eyes.

"What's wrong, my love?" He asked, "Please, tell me. Do you want to stop?"

You shook your head, "N-No! It's just-"

William removed his hands from you, clasping your little fingers around his own, "Please, my bunny. Whatever it is, I'll fix it immediately. Please tell me."

Mr. Afton watched you like a hawk a you looked over your shoulder towards his door, the heat on your cheeks creeping down your pretty little neck at his words.

"It's just..." you whispered to him, "What if Michael walks in on us? He should be back any minute, right?"

Oh, that. The lie he told you. He had forgotten all about that, actually. William was glad you reminded him.

Mr. Afton pressed a small kiss to your fingers to ease your worries.

"Don't worry about him, my love." He said, admiring your features as if they were fine art, "It's all taken care of, I promise. Keep your focus on me, darling. On us. You can do that for me, hm?"

After studying his face for a moment, William watched as you nodded in response, making his smile widen as he kissed your fingers once again.

"Can we maybe just move, erm... this, somewhere else then?" You asked, "Please?"

Oh. So you did mind. William mentally kicked himself. Stupid fool. Of course you would mind. How could he have overlooked that? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

William leaned in and kissed your sweet lips one more time.

"Of course, bunny." He whispered to you, finally letting go of your hands. William got off from on top of you and planted his feet on the ground. Once he was secure, he leaned down to you again and slipped you into his strong arms, holding you bridal-style close to his toned chest. He felt his heart swell inside of him as you wrapped your tiny arms around his neck, nuzzling your cute face into his neck. Gently, the older man carried you through his house and into his dark bedroom, using one of his legs to push the door open.

Once inside, William gently laid you down on top of his bed, giving you a kiss before leaving breifly to shut his door. After he was sure that it was shut tightly, William turned his attention back to you.

Heat creeped down his face and neck when he saw his precious bunny on top of his bed. Oh, little one. If only you knew how many times he had pictured you there. How many times your name was repeated over and over like a mantra within these very walls. Even with all the fantasies William had played over and over in his mind, none of them compared to the real thing. Just look at you. So so cute.

And just for him.

Walking back over to you, William was sure to drink in the sight of you on his bed, and commit it to memory. His hands on autopilot, William unbuttoned his purple dress-shirt as he neared closer, exposing his chest to you.

You must've felt awkward being the only one with all your clothes still on. He saw how you went to shrug off your jacket, but was quick to stop you as he took his place on top of you once again.

Silly bunny. That was his job.

"Ah, ah, my darling." He whispered to you, gently taking your hands away from yourself, "No need to worry about that. Just let me do all the work, yeah? Just relax, and let me take care of you."

Mr. Afton saw that his words seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Your eyes weren't on him. Instead, they were lain gently on the expanse of his chest, going up and down over and over. The dim lighting made it a little hard to see exactly, but William knew what you were doing. Ogling him.

William wasn't sure how much harder he could get. Look at you. Precious little you, drooling over his chest. What a good little bunny. That's exactly where your eyes should be, little one. On him. And only him. He only had eyes for you, so wouldn't you do the same for him? Of course you would, bunny, of course. By the end of the night, you will. Mr. Afton is gonna show you so many levels of burning hot pleasure you didn't even know existed. Why? Because you'll be his. His bunny. No one else's. And if anyone dared try take you away, then well-

"How did you get these?" William heard you peep out to him, snapping him out of his trance.

He felt one of your little hands pull out of his grip, and gently trace lines up and down his chest and stomach, earning a shudder out of him. Elation ran through his veins, knowing this was the first time you had ever touched him. Touched a man like that, too. Slowly, whilst coming down from his high, William could recognize the patterns you were tracing.

Ah, yes. Those. He had forgotten about those, too. His scars. He hadn't even remembered to warn you first. He knew that at first glance, they did look rather gnarly.

But, still. You didn't seem to mind. You were his good bunny, after all. Of course you'd be good for him. Love him no matter what he looked like. Just like how he loved you.

While you continued to feel up his chest, William shrugged off the remains of his dress shirt and tossed it to the floor. He subsequently leaned down close to you, capturing your lips in another kiss. The following ones trailed down the side of your face and to your exposed neck, earning another whimper of pleasure out of you.

"It's nothing to worry about, love." He whispered to you, pressing more kisses to your skin, "Let's just say the early designs of my spring-lock suits weren't without their... flaws."

"Do they hurt?" You asked him, your little fingers finding a place on his shoulders.

William's breath fanned across your heated skin as he chuckled, "You ask far too many questions, bunny."

William gently bit down against the swell of your neck, earning another gasp out of you.

"Just, relax, little one." He said, his hands slowly working your jacket off of you and discarding it to the floor, "Do you want to stop?"

"N-no! I just..." you trailed off, your voice fading to a whisper "I just want you to be okay."

Mr. Afton picked his gaze up from your neck to look into your eyes, committing to memory the pink on your cheeks. Oh, precious, darling little bunny. If only you knew just how much he loved you. If only you knew just how you made him feel; the gravity of your presence around him.

The older man leaned forward to kiss your neck again, his large hand gently slipping underneath your shirt.

"My darling bunny," William whispered, "you're far too kind. So, so good for me. My bunny. Mine."

The brit's movements begun to get more frantic and passionate as his hand crept up to your chest, groping and squeezing from under your shirt. Your moans became more frequent in conjunction, along with the sheer amount of bruises and marks he was sucking into your soft, warm skin. Your hands found their way across his bare shoulders, one eventually travelling up to tussle into his dark brown hair. William rumbled out a groan from the back of his throat as he continued attacking your neck.

Once he was certain that you'd have plenty of hickeys in the morning, William detached himself from you and sat back slightly. His hand ran further up your chest, pulling your shirt along with it. Once your garment was halfway up your torso, William brought his other large, calloused to the base.

"May I remove this for you, my sweet?" He asked through half-lidded eyes, the tent in his pants growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. His mind told him over and over to just cut to the chase and pound you into the mattress already, but he dismissed the thought. He needed patience. William had waited for this day far too long to piss it away. He wanted to savor it. Stretch it out as long as possible. Not only for his selfish reasons, but for your sake too. You were a virgin, after all. He didn't want to scare you away, oh no. Eventually you'll get the hang of it, anyway. Don't worry about that, little one. William promises to show you how all of it is done. Show you just how amazing he can make you feel, and spoil you rotten in the process. Give you the treatment that only his bunny gets to have.

But, for now, slow and steady it is.

You looked him in his eyes as you gave him a timid nod, making another grin stretch across his face.

"Let me hear your words, darling." He said.

"Y-yes, Mr. Afton. Please... take it off." you responded.

Fucking hell you were so goddamned cute. Sweet bunny if only you knew just how many times he imagined your cute little voice saying those exact words to him. How long he dreamt of it.

Another shudder ran through the man's veins as he pulled your shirt off of you, leaving you bare-chested in front of him.

"Please, love," he whispered, "Call me William."

The tips of his fingers ghosted over the expanse of your chest and stomach, earning a shudder of your own under his touch. Leaning down, the older man pressed more open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones and chest and his hands crept down further, stopping at the hem of your pants.

"Though, if you're up for it," he continued, "I'm quite fond of sir as well."

Before you could babble out any sort of response, William gave a few more open-mouthed kisses to the space right above your pants, your hands finding a home in his hair again. Your soft whimpers underneath the brit made his kisses all the more violent, and his hands all the more wandering. They traveled underneath you, coping a few feels at your butt before slowly trailing down your thighs.

It was getting harder by the second for the brit to control himself. He wanted to go slow, he really did, for you. But he wasn't too sure how much longer he could restrain himself from taking you as his. Here you were, right where he had wanted you for so long. Moaning and whimpering underneath him just like he wanted you to. You were already so good for him, even without him having to coach you on what to do. You truly were made for him.

So, perhaps you would forgive him for picking up the pace a little bit.

Could you do that for him, bunny?

"How about we remove these next, yeah?" He asked you through half-lidded, lust-filled eyes, his fingers picking at the hem of your pants.

You nodded in response again. Embarrassed and bashful.

Oh, naughty naughty bunny. Didn't he tell you to use your voice?

"Words, darling." He reminded you, his tone soft yet laced with firmness. He didn't want to punish you, no. Not yet, at the very least. It was your first time, and William was a generous man. He could let you off the hook this time, bunny.

This time.

"William, please..." you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Afton had to take a long, deep breath through his nose to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head, a cold, sharp shudder running down his body. Begging him already? Oh, sweet little one, you were made for him. You were you were you were. You were what he was put on this earth for. Not his stupid fucking business, or being a father. No. Not at all. It was for you. He was put on this earth for you. To be your man. To give you every single little thing your precious heart desired. Money. Fame. Love. Pleasure. All of it. All of it for you. And oh did he have plenty to give you. You were his soulmate, he was sure of it. How else could you be here now? How else would he have happened to find you in this small, puny town? Amongst all these fucking idiots? You and him were meant to be, little bunny. Couldn't you see it too? Just look at you. William fits so perfectly on top of you, doesn't he? And you look so adorable underneath him with that blushy face of yours. His sweet little rabbit. His darling beloved. His sweet angel. His treasure. His love. His. His. HIS. HIS. HI-

...

Oh.

Oh shit.

Pressing a few more kisses to your belly, he snuck one of his hands down to feel around his crotch. The tips of his fingers were greeted by a small wet patch.

Damn. He really got carried away that time. First on his phone call with you, and again now? Could you notice? No, surely not. It was too dim in his room. His pants were dark too, so that made it all the more unlikely. You probably wouldn't care either way.

He was still plenty hard for you.

Composure, William, composure. Don't ruin all the fun before it even begins.

Making sure to settle down the many thoughts in his head, William gently lifted your legs and cute little butt off of his bed. Slowly, he was able to discard your pants off of you, giving your shins and thighs a few small kisses as his hands returned to the hem of your underwear.

"This too, love?" He asked.

Out of instinct, you nodded again, "Yes, but... what about you?"

William breathed out a chuckle. Silly bunny. Don't tell him you're becoming the impatient one now. As adorable as it was, William had to still go slow on you. Patience, little one.

"That'll be soon, rabbit." He told you, one of his fingers hooking underneath your underwear, "You are a virgin, yes?"

He already knew the answer to that. He just wanted to hear you say it.

"Yeah, I am... Is that a proble-"

"No, no, little bunny, no." He said in response, gently sliding your underwear down your legs and discarding it on the floor, "I just have to make sure you're prepared. Besides..."

William shifted his weight down so he was face-to-face with your lower half, guiding your thighs to rest on his shoulders. Looking up at you, he pressed his kisses into your soft flesh, throwing in a few bites for good measure as he cupped your heated sex in his palm.

"Your body is so beautiful, my love." He said, "I want to savor every part of you. My needs can come later."

William watched as your whined and squirmed underneath him as his hand made contact with your lower half, his cock aching inside of his pants yet again.

"I will warn you bunny," the brit said, "It may sting a little to start with, yeah? Are you okay with that?"

You swallowed the saliva that had been pooling in the back of your throat, "Y-Yes, that's okay. I trust you."

William let out a satisfied hum, "Good bunny."

Slowly, William trailed his hand downwards, the tip of his middle finger inching close to your hole. Mr. Afton had to swallow the saliva that invaded his mouth at the sight, worried about drooling on you and making a fool of himself. If he could focus, he would be able to tell that his hands were trembling with excitement. Oh if only you knew how long he had dreamed of this day. He was already halfway there. Halfway to making you his. He just had to make sure his precious bunny was ready first.

He didn't want you in any pain when he filled you up with his love.

William gave you a few seconds to get ready before he pushed his finger inside of you, immediately making your back arch and your hands find his shoulders and hair. The grip you had on his grey-brown locks was tight, but compared to the elation he felt while inside of you, it was nothing. A pitiful drop in the bucket of his ecstasy. You were so warm around him. So so warm and tight. A million times better than what his fantasies made him believe. And a trillion times better than those sex toys he bought.

Mr. Afton let his excitement get the better of him just a touch as he begun to pump his long, bony finger in and out of you. His other hand gripped as your thigh, squeezing it as his lips placing gentle kisses on the flesh of it as a form of silent praise.

The noises his finger made going in and out of you were sinful, and echoed off of the walls of his room. Or perhaps, his shared room now. It'd only be a matter of time now before he'd ask you to move in, if all went according to plan. He was pleased to see that you eventually loosened up around his digit and you started to become more comfortable, once all the residual pain had subsided. This is when you started to moan for him. Quiet at first, but gradually got louder and louder as he found the more tender parts of your insides.

William's eyes would often flutter shut as he heard his sweet bunny's sounds underneath him. He was elated that you were enjoying yourself. If William knew he did one thing right in his life, he knew he was pleasing you like you wanted. He could die happy knowing that. That he got one chance with you; got to hear his bunny's sweet songs just once.

But, no, no.

William was a greedy man.

He wanted more.

And he would get more.

"That's it, my beautiful little bunny," he praised you, his deep accented voiced husked with his lust, "Just like that. You're doing so amazing, my darling. So perfect for me..."

William forgot to give you a warning as he inserted another finger into you. But, with the moan that escaped your lips as he did so, he was pleased to see you didn't mind. And, he was even more pleased with the way you found your own rhythm with his fingers, helping him to finger-fuck you all the better.

"Ah- Ahh! Oh my god, Mr. A-Af- William..!" you cried out to him, your grip on his hair becoming tighter as he found the most tender part of your insides.

You were playing with fire, little one. Did you want him to have another accident?

"Oh, my sweet bunny," he groaned, trying to shift his weight to relieve some pressure off of his crotch, "yeah, that's it. Keep making those pretty sounds for me, love. Make them for me."

"W-William, I-I feel-"

"Shh, my darling, it's alright. Let it happen. Make a mess all over me, my love. I want you to. I want it, bunny. Cum all over my fingers, goregous. Don't dare hold back on me. So, so good... my precious bunny. My bunny."

The pace of William's fingers quickened the more he said, until he felt you spasm around you and a flurry of moans escaped your lips.

He did it.

He finally did it.

William has waited for so long, and he had finally done it.

Halfway there.

Halfway to go.

Mr. Afton helped you to ride out your orgasm by pressing his fingers into you a few more times. Once you had settled down, and your moans had turned into soft, breathy pants, William took his fingers out of you, pressing reassuring kisses into the plush of your thighs.

"So good, little one," he whispered to you, "You did so well, my love. Perfect, absolutely perfect."

After a few more kisses, to allow you to catch your breath, William sat up again on his knees, looking down at your sweat-gleamed, adorable little face. You were still breathing pretty hard as his hands found his belt buckle, the clink of the metal making you look up at him again.

"William... please, I need you so bad..." you breathed.

Mr. Afton's breath hitched in his throat, "I know, love, I know. And you'll have me. You've been such a good bunny for me... 'Gonna make you feel so good, my adorable little rabbit."

A rush of relief washed over William as his belt was shed to the floor, along with his sleek black trousers, making him groan. He watched as you little eyes kept flickering between his tented crotch and his face, not sure of where to look to be polite.

Silly bunny. You were allowed to look anywhere you wanted.

As William finally was able to pull off his boxers, he breathed a sigh of relief. His cock had been aching for what felt like hours now, and he was finally able to give it some relief. He could feel how he throbbed against the cold air of his room as he looked down at you once again, drinking in the sight and committing it to memory.

William knew he was a well-endowed man. Hell, that's probably why he was so popular to begin with, at least amongst the women. None of that ever mattered to him before. He didn't care. Yeah, he had a big dick. So what?

It never mattered to him, that is, until now. He could see how scared you were when you looked at him. See it in your eyes, how you worried how something like that would fit into you.

You needn't worry, sweet bunny. William would never try to hurt you. Not ever. It'll fit, sweet one, don't worry.

Don't you trust him?

Mr. Afton gave a few pumps to his length, coating it in the slick of his pre-cum as he lined up at your entrance. He could feel waves of excitement and need wash through him as the tip made contact with your flesh, making him let out another shaky breath. Though in the past the brit found missionary to be rather boring, he found himself to not mind it with you. It allowed him to be close to you. To see your face, and hear you well. All he ever wanted.

Besides, he could always try new positions next time. If you were ready.

"It might sting a little again, bunny." He warned you, "But it won't for long."

"O-Okay..." you said, "Just... Can you hold my hand? Please?"

William felt his lips part, "Yes, my love. Yes, of course."

Shifting his weight briefly onto one arm, William slipped one of his large hands into your own, interlocking his fingers with yours. His other hand was firmly situated next to your head, careful to avoid pulling on your hair.

"Good?" he asked.

You nodded, "Yes.. I'm ready now. Please, William..."

"As you wish, darling."

Excitement bubbling in his veins, William gently pushed his hips forwards, the tip of his cock entering inside of you. Along with your gasp, the man above you let out a low, breathy groan of pure, raw pleasure, a shudder making its way down his spine.

Holy fuck. It was so much better than he had imagined. You were so much better than he imagined. He was sure of it now, more than ever. You were made for him. You were pure perfection.

And all the more reason to make you his.

Get to work, William. His bunny is waiting for him.

Careful not to squeeze your hand too tightly, William let out another breathy groan as he slowly pushed the rest of his length into you. At the feeling of being fully sheathed inside of your hole, William felt his eyes roll to the back of his head, nuzzling into the crook of your neck to save-face. You were breathing rather hard underneath him, your other arm having come up to drape across his bare, scarred shoulders for extra support.

As you he felt you slowly start to relax around him, Mr. Afton pressed soft, loving kisses to your jaw and neck, the hand next to your hair stroking it softly.

"Th-That's it, love..." he whispered to you, "So good for me... My adorable bunny."

You whimpered underneath his touch, "William, I... i-it's okay to move now. Please..."

Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, William gently pulled his hips back, then thrusted up into you. He watched as you bounced slightly underneath him, a low moan escaping your lips. With all the conformation he needed, William was quick to find a steady rhythm inside of you. He never found himself to be that vocal in the bedroom from past experiences, so the brit continued to surprise himself with every groan and sigh that escaped past his lips. But, then again, it was quite different now. This was you.

And damn did you make him feel amazing.

After finding a good pace, William was able to angle himself better, trying to find the most sensitive part inside you. With one lucky guess, he was able to see how you threw your head back in pleasure, your nails digging into the skin of his back as you moaned for him.

"Ohh goddd, William..! F-Fuck, right there!" you cried out for him, your encouragement making him pick up the pace.

"Yeah, bunny?" he goaded you, "Does that feel good? You're so fucking cute. You- hahh - you feel so fucking amazing, my love, fuck..."

The brit could feel your peak drawing nearer with every clench of your walls around him, his cock twitching back in response as it continued its barrage of your most sensitive parts. This only made him snap his hips into you all the more sharply.

"(Y/N)..." he cried out to you, "(Y/N), my love. So fucking good for me. So, so good... You're perfect, (Y/N). Perfect, my bunny. Perfect."

"W-William, I-I'm gonna-"

"Me too, bunny, me too. Please, bunny - fuck - please, together, my love. Let me fill you up, my darling. With my love. Let me show you how much I adore you. Will you, my love? Please, please."

"Yes, Will! Oh my god, yes please!"

With your sweet words ringing in his ears, William made one final push inside of you, sinking in as deep as possible. Mr. Afton groaned loudly as he could feel your orgasm around him, his following not long after. He was able to manage a few tiny, sloppy thrusts inside of you as you both rode out your high, feeling as how your insides became coated with his orgasm; no, with his love.

So, so much love.

And, you, finally

were now

his.

At long, long last. He finally had you.

Happy was an understatement. Overjoyed even more so. No, William was a new man. He was now yours. Your man to protect and take care of you. And no one else's. Just as you were his now, and no one else's.

His.

It took a good while for William to catch his breath again, as well as you. Once he did so, William found the strength to pull out of you, one last ripple of pleasure washing over him. You were looking up at him through your glossy eyes and heated face, a small, dumb smile on your face as you breathed heavily. He was able to get one more kiss on your lips before he shifted his weight off of you.

"Wait here, love." He said, "I'll get something to help you clean up."

As much as it pained him to leave you without him, William knew that aftercare was important. Especially to the inexperienced. In the past, he was never fond of doing too much of it, but with you, it came naturally to him. You were such a good bunny for him, it's the least he can do to show his appreciation.

The brit was quick to disappear into his bathroom and grab a towel, feeling the cold air around him in the dark. By the time he returned, he saw that you had already turned on your side, and had wrapped yourself in nearly all the covers on his bed. Creeping closer to you, William saw that your eyes were closed; soft, steady breaths escaping past your little lips.

Damn. You were asleep already. William knew tonight would wear you out, but damn.

Looks like he still has it.

And you were far too cute to wake up now. It would just be mean if he did so. Very well. You win, bunny.

Placing the towel on his nightstand, William peeled back the last little bit of blankets you allotted him and slipped into bed behind you. You being much shorter than him, he found it easy to meld his body against yours, wrapping his arms around your little waist and pulling you close to his chest. You were so warm, and he couldn't help but take a long inhale of your scent. He was hoping to talk to you a little more after, and tell you how amazing you did, but this was fine. He could do all the in the morning. You were too cozy for now.

But that couldn't stop him from giving you some praise.

"You are perfect, my darling." He whispered into your air, as soft as he could as not to wake you, "Just as I knew you would be. You're going to learn just how much better I can make you feel, sweet thing. This is only the beginning."

William pressed a few soft kisses to your hair.

"I'm sorry I had to lie to you to get you here. I just couldn't think of any other way to get us alone. But, you'll forgive me, right?"

You didn't answer, of course.

"Oh, I know you will. If you ever find out, that is, bunny."

There's some things you're better off not knowing, anyway.

"Get plenty of rest, love. I'll be right here, I promise. I promise."

How could he ever leave you now?

"I love you."

Goodnight, little bunny.

~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 , @the-official-memester , @randomwriteralan , @mrsrogerwaters , @laylaaftonshit , @cherry-slushee , @insert-memical-username , @mrssafton , @horrorking2000

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!!

[a-polite-melody]

I’m not going to do this directly on the post that inspired this one, because there is some legitimate venting about how difficult a situation it becomes to live in and whatnot and I guarantee bringing this up there would only go negatively for me instead of actually helping people to dismantle internalized ableist mentalities they have, so here’s its own post:

It is definitely necessary to bring up the issues that arise from allowing lack-of-cleaning to get to having health hazards around.

What’s not necessary is saying that anyone who is in a state where they are unable to clean and have black mold now acting as a health hazard is just “people so deep into the online buzzword salad of ‘the leftism leaving people’s bodies when mental illness affects your hygiene’ that they’re simply choosing not to care about cleaning and should just get off their lazy asses and actually clean because it’s okay to skip brushing your teeth or showering once in a while but it’s not okay to live with black mold because that makes your quality of life worse.”

Like… I mean first of all, how do you manage to acknowledge that black mold is a health hazard and not understand that the symptoms of black mold actively make it then even harder to deal with that black mold, and then just say “just clean” as the answer and not understand there’s some ableism you’re holding onto.

No, I don’t think it’s okay to be living in filth. But the answer isn’t to lecture people on why it’s bad to be living in filth. And that—the mentality on display—is hilariously exactly the leftism leaving you because you personally can Just Push Yourself to clean and not end up in conditions with mold and so Everyone Else in that situation is being Lazy or Making Excuses and not actually in need of Serious Aid.

I’m not saying you personally need to be that aid. If you have a roommate, for example, who is not cleaning, it’s not even your job to find out why. You don’t have to personally live with someone who cannot clean or chip in to clean the living space. But the solution isn’t to say that Everyone Can clean their living space fine actually and some people are just Choosing Not To because they’re lazy lefties using their mood disorders as excuses.

There are people who require full-time carers who currently do not have them, just for a start, and they will look pretty indistinguishable from someone ~simply choosing~ to not clean their living spaces if all you’re looking at is the fact they’ve let the space get that gross and saying “this is the whole ‘the leftism leaving people’s bodies when mental illness affects your hygiene’ taken Too Far!!”

(The fact you think there’s a Too Far there is literally the problem. And the fact that the solution is shunning someone out of laziness instead of looking for what caused the problem to get so bad and figuring out ways to prevent that.)

[nunalastor]

Guy / Serial Roommates

Anonymous asked:

Goes anyone else get mixed-vibes about Guy? I don't know what he's meant to look like but I always imagine dark hair, dark grey eyes, and tan skin. Like he might be white-passing but there is some Asian in there somewhere.

Anonymous asked:

Vox finds out about Guy and what he hears makes him think that Guy is Alastor's lover. There's no way Alastor suffered through all that for just a friend, right? And that would explain in Vox's head why Alastor rejected him if his heart belonged to someone else.

Guy and Alastor find out about that false impression and do the crazy cross-eyed laugh together.

Anonymous asked:

Serial Roommates Plot Twist: Guy is miserable in heaven (he and Al are friends for a reason) but convinced himself if Alastor is there, everything will be okay and they can fix all the problems together. Part of him knows he is more alive in hell and so is Alastor, but preconceived notions of what heaven and hell are meant to be makes him think helping people leave hell is best. Either way he acts as a therapist to give others the kindness and grace about mental health he couldn’t find in heaven.

Anonymous asked:

At this point, every demon with a brain knows it would be suicide to kidnap or hurt Guy. It reminds me of this episode of Superman of a plane being hijacked and Lois Lane is on it. When she tells them her name they’re like, the one Superman always saves?!

Imagine that with Guy? He just let his would be murderers know his name and they instantly know, they fucked up. By then it’s too late and they hear the screeching of an elk and radio static.

Anonymous asked:

The combination of Guy dying from cancer or some other sickness and Alastor still dying first is so painful! He would need the support of a friend, but one day Alastor never came home from his hunt and Guy was left to suffer and die alone. Any comfort he could have in reuniting with him after death also destroyed when he finds out he went to heaven and Alastor went to hell.

Anonymous asked:

Oh! Guy has a death now! It makes sense for disease to do him in, nobody in the cast we know of died of illness and after looking up images of the Bakers Estate that looks like somewhere someone would get all the diseases, mold cure or not.

Buckshot Anon, your time has come!

Anonymous asked:

What characters do y'all think Guy and Llewella would play in the DnD AU? I imagine the two of them being guest party members who only occasionally join the main group.

Also, Cherri Bomb takes over playing Sir Pentious's character after he dies.

Anonymous asked:

Currently obsessed with the song Albi by Sevdaliza and it gave me of the idea of genderbend Alastor and Guy.

Guy would still work for the police but possibly a matron or secretary. (Who knows maybe still an officer cause I just googled and apparently the first female cop was in the 1908) So her focus would be focused on women. So when she learns her roommate is killing the abusers, rapists and other killers; of course she’s going to support her.

Can you remember when the last time was

You felt safe in the dark?

This world was never meant for a woman's heart

But still, you rise through it all

When I'm out of breath, she's my vitals

When I need to rev, she's my ride-or-die

When I'm out of faith, she's my idol

I just killed a man, she's my alibi

Anonymous asked:

Can we all agree that if Guy were to fall for whatever reason, his demon form would be legitimately horrifying? His base form would probably look mostly human like Alastor (didn’t we say he had some dog traits, like he is to dogs what Alastor is to deer?) but going into his full demon form would tap into the mold he was infected with for months in the Baker Estate and become something grotesque. Shit like his burned away angel wings regenerating comprised entirely of the mold. That, and if he died of cancer related to his exposure to the mold, what is a more fucked up demon form to have than that of the thing that caused your torture, possession, and later slow death? 

Anonymous asked:

Alastor's suitors: *kidnap Guy for yandere reasons*

Guy: ROOKIE NUMBERS

[jewishregulus]

How do you headcanon regulus personality to be like? Do you feel as though James and regulus complement each other in some ways?

why yes of course! i fundamentally disagree w outwardly mean and evil regulus bc it makes no sense canonically. perhaps in an au where he separates himself from his parents and gets to be happy but regulus cares too much to be outwardly rude to people . it would impact his reputation and his families reputation like he isn’t hexing people in the hallways . he’s a professional faker (shit talks behind people’s back most definitely) and feels guilty and horrible everytime he’s plagued with an evil thought . i know many people view him as a selfish character but i think he’s fundamentally not . he puts everyone else’s wishes for him above his own . he doesn’t really exist as a person outside of his family . i do think , outside of this control, he would be sarcastic and have very dry humor , would love to read and would be very introverted but long for connection and friendship. a loner not by choice, he enjoys company but has no idea how to reach for it. i think he loves magic and magical creatures and genuinely holds a lot of love in his heart that his family disapproves of !! regulus soft black !!! not to say i think regulus doesn’t have an attitude and an edge …. i just think he has fundamentally good morals sorry! i’m a good person regulus black enjoyer i can’t help it …. of course he’s morally gray but most of the decisions he makes r caused by the life long abuse and trauma he is subject to . regulus black was suicidal as hell in those deatheater meetings the moment he turned 18 he killed himself LMFAO . i just know he was the most uncomfortable person in there at any given moment . i think vaguely threatening posh regulus is true but it is his exterior and the assumptions ppl make … and then they get to know him and realize he’s got like a little kid version of himself who holds the world with so much fascination . and it makes you sad when you realize he thinks it’s a flaw and wants to stomp it out

in this way i think he compliments james very well!! both people who really do value others and life but behave in very odd judgmental ways (regulus being a fake recluse who can’t function as a person w control over his life and opinions who is fake as hell and sarcastic whilst also having no understanding of social situations and desperate to be liked by people around him. number one peer pressure victim. 15,000 mental illnesses and a penchant for self harming behavior.) (james potter who is unfortunately consistently acting like a frat bro at any given moment : assumes everyone naturally loves him and is mostly right which does evil things for him as a person . would die for his friends but is also insufferable to be around (affectionate) . harshly judgmental to anyone who doesn’t fit into his box of what counts as a good person (which by the way regulus challenges in a way i think helps james as a character!) . looping back to the frat bro thing i think james is the type of person to throw a crazy party and convince everybody to drink and do unsafe things for the fun and when u realize u don’t have a ride home and can’t walk u are so fucking SCARED to ask to stay the night bc of his general vibes but then he ends up taking care of you and getting u pain killers and making like an awesome breakfast for the whole crew? should be the worst person you know but just beneath the surface is so much good it’s impossible to hate him.) you would never think these people would get along but then they both love quidditch and train for it like it’s their life and they are both academics with serious opinions on art and literature they would both die for even though they are often opposing . they are the first people they can have a conversation with and truly match eachothers freak on any given topic. the fundamentals of both of their characters is how much they care about life and the things inside of it . it manifests in different ways but i truly think the thesis of jegulus is that they are so much more similar than one might think outwardly , and it creates a soft intimacy between them . and also just james introducing the concept of silliness fun and happiness into regulus’ life lol!!

[ihni]

Things I love to read in Billy and/or Harringrove fanfiction:

(Inspired by @grey-sides and in the hopes of spreading some love)

Billy and Max overcoming their problems to form a united front and start working together, and become better siblings to each other.

Realizations. The "oh" moments. The "oh shit" moments, the "oh fuck" moments, the "oh no no no..." moments. ALL the realizations! (So, like ... the boys finding out they're into each other, anyone finding out about Billy's home life, Billy finding out about monsters, both of them finally seeing another - more vulnerable - side of each other, etc etc etc)

This whole post

Billy getting to fight monsters too, especially if he can use it as an outlet for all that aggression and be badass and save people's asses and then be all blasé about it like "what? it's not like it's hard" *hair flip* (also Billy and an axe will NEVER be over-played!)

Physical whump (bruises, blood, hiding injuries, fighting, being pushed up against surfaces, threats, hands grabbing faces and throats and hair, being made to kneel, incapacitation, fighting through exhaustion/illness, manhandling, etc etc. I'm a whumper at heart, I want to inject all these things into my veins).

Emotional whump (being left out of things/ostracization, feeling lonely, overhearing something hurtful, keeping a straight face even though you're hurting inside, not expecting someone to come and save you when you're hurt/captive etc etc - ie my bread and butter).

Billy patching himself up (BOTH phisical and emotional whump, so, like a double-whammy!)

Billy in the upside down, as a very capable survivor. Give me Cast Away, only with Billy, and the Upside Down instead of an island ... ALL THE VERSIONS of that. I like my boy capable, and fighting for survival (I'm normal, I swear)

This post

Billy being touch-starved. I eat that up with a SPOON, all versions of it but especially the ones where he gets touch (angsty version; it's not a good kind of touch but he seeks it out anyway, fluffy version; he gets all the pets and hugs!)

The boys coming back from the upside down and having gotten used to being close, so they get anxious when they don't have eyes on each other (yes I've written it. yes I've read it. yes I love it)

Having to share a room/doing a project togehter because their last names both start with H. Like forced proximity, school version. Mmmm, delicious.

When Billy is ridiculously weak for Steve and would do anything for him (especially if Steve has no idea about he power he wields). Basically Steve as the Billy-whisperer.

Billy getting good parents. I don't even care who at this point, I'll read all of them: Joyce, Hopper, Claudia, Mr Clarke (Mr CLARKE <3), Bob, Flo, that grumpy librarian ... Just give him good parental figures (and let him STRUGGLE with accepting that he's finally safe!)

Scars. All the fics about scars. Angsty scars, proud scars, mental scars, scars on the skin, first time someone is allowed to touch someone else's scars. Just, <3

Badass, BADASS moments, by both Billy and Steve. Smashing demodogs to pieces, rescuing themSELVES from bad situations, etc.

Guilt. <3 That usually comes after the realization moments, but mmmmm, a side of guilt to that? Fucking delicious, I will live off that for weeks. Like, having someone realize what Neil is doing and then feeling GUILTY about it (maybe they caused Billy to be hurt, or maybe they made it worse, or maybe a beating could have been avoided if they'd acted differently), that's my JAM.

That moment when Billy/Steve start calling the other by their first name instead of their last name ...

Self-sacrifice (filed under whump, but can be both physical, mental or simply implied). There doesn't even have to be a real threat of getting hurt, the self-sacrificing idiot (I prefer Billy) just have to THINK there is.

Basic needs not being met ... until they are. (So, say ... Billy being hungry, thirsty, tired, thrown out of the house ... and then finally getting to eat, drink, sleep, get inside)

[whats-a-human]

Tips on coping with homicidal ideation, no empathy necessary!

Unrelated to this blog's theme, but this is a very important topic. Everyone is welcome to interact. I wanted to post this long ago; it's hard to but I gotta help others and break the stigma around this too. I hope my wording is good enough.

I have struggled with homicidal ideation years ago, which you might call a type of intrusive thought. I rarely have any homicidal intrusive thoughts anymore and I've dealt with the underlying issue that caused them, so I believe I have overcome that problem.

So, here's a post to anyone struggling with this. Having a licensed therapist is better but I know that just like me, many of you can't have one.

Preparing for an episode

First of all, be neutral about your ideation: you aren't a horrible person and you aren't going to actually murder someone just because of it. Now, and that's really important too: do not normalize those thoughts. You aren't evil for having an illness, but it's still an illness that hurts you above all else, and can hurt others too. I learned this from an acquaintance and that was really helpful.

Now, have a support network. Friends, mental health groups, anything. You should have a safe space to talk about your experiences but you don't need to be "out" to everyone! You can just tell a friend something like "hey, sometimes my mental illnesses act up and I have episodes, when that happens I'll give you a heads up and we could do X" (like talking about a comfort topic, having you/your friend talk about your/their day, etc.) Find a safe way to avoid isolation!

Think of your triggers, make a list so you can avoid them and prepare for when you get triggered. Also list things that soothe you and things that give you a sense of power and control but don't harm you/others. The options are endless, like painting your nails, giving your hair a trim, customizing your phone/blog/etc, cooking, going for a walk, hobbies etc.

2. During an episode

The goal here would be averting your attention to something else, but that can't be forced.

So, you can always talk facts with your brain. If you did act on your urges, you'd be arrested, period. Minor or not. And as a mentally ill person, your time there and after prison would be double hell... compared to just not acting on the thought. If you've been arrested before I doubt you'd want to years on end there (or years on end again). What I also told myself was, "going to prison because of such lowly people isn't worth it". I was right and extra based.

Also why waste your time with murder plans when you can be thinking about Pokemon. Or anything else that brings you joy. Yes, thinking of Pokemon instead of murder plans is part of recovery and based as hell. Like, even if you aren't a fan, some of those critters are cute, right? And just like that, you're slowly averting your attention and the urges are quieting down.

3. Other important things

The biggest victim of my intrusive thoughts was me. Those I wanted to kill were my abusers and I didn't want to have those thoughts, even during episodes I hated that a part of me was into it.

But I would never accept a murderer as a part of myself. I refused to ever accept such path as a valid future for me. Those thoughts were a part of me, but they didn't need to be part of me FOREVER. And I proved myself right. I focused my strength and intelligence on RECOVERING and it was the right choice.

You may feel powerless just like I was. Then, give yourself a haircut, cook something, make art, customize your phone, watch a movie, go do anything that reassures you that YOU are in control of your life, not your abusers. Some things may not appear productive but they are nonetheless carving the way to a beautiful and FREE life. Your episodes will slowly become less and less frequent, and less intense.

Of course recovery isn't linear, it's not always pleasant or easy and you'll still have really bad times, but deciding to thread the path of recovery is a huge step of power in itself. Stay determined.

I still live with my abusers but I have worked so much with myself and whatever I could do within my reach, that the power I consider them to have over me is much, much smaller and that did wonders to me.

An extra reminder: some triggering things may feel kinda good or addictive, like doomscrolling or something that personally entertains your homicidal ideation instead of directing you away from it. For example, directing your violence towards fiction can be helpful but if engaging with/producing violent media entertains these thoughts about real life actions instead of being cathartic, that's a form of self-harm. I know it's addictive but try to look for alternatives! You can do it 💪

Once again, huge virtual hug for everyone 🫂 stay safe!

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

This is just me rambling and stuff, and this is the only way i could get out my monty brainrot and a little bit of yves brainworm out of my head, but just ignore it if it's cringe or too insane

I think with the way Yves would take care of me thoroughly and know me so well would unsettle me at times, but ultimately it would probably cement his place as a comforting and caring platonic partner in my head 😭😭 cause i know i would be thinking like "oh! He's so inspiring! I think he's the perfect role model for how i should take care of myself and love the people close to me ^^" <- absolutely missing the point and every romantic gesture i would misunderstand (what lacking romantic experience does to a mf) as something he does with other ppl, even though i would imagine that he's barely seen with anyone else than his darling :'); or maybe he would account for the fact that i misunderstand things? But i have a feeling that he would catch on to the fact that I'm a bit of a blockhead

Imo i think that i would choose Monty over Yves, despite everything that he did for me; maybe because he's done so much for me, i would probably feel immeasurably guilty even if he does say he likes doing it and personally, the power imbalance in both his material and physical qualities as well as the lack of vulnerability would intimidate me 🫠🫠 errr in a way, Monty I love so much because of how loving, protective and accepting he is, he's got characteristics that are close to my type!! (might also be the fact that to some extent, he can be controlled :3); he's endearingly trying his best and flopping a lot, but at least he listens to valid criticism 🥰🥰 he's... Cute... And maybe because of the food too, since receiving and giving food is a big sign of love for me <3 His messiness is a bit of a charm to me, because personally it takes a lot of guts and vulnerability to show someone how messy you are physically and mentally, or well, maybe its pity over the depression mess 😔 One thing i want to know is if he'll ever get immune to his darling's romantic and sexual advances and throw it right back similarly? Or is still gonna be giggling and kicking his feet on the bed over it? And i wonder how his reaction would be towards a darling that starts off meek and quiet, but gets more dominant and pursues him as well? Man, i want this guy pegged <3 And to get him pregnant <3 I want to give him backshots that make him better or worse :3

Anyway, this is also a way of grieving over not choosing Monty over Cyprus 😔 because i read Cyprus first before Monty and i regret picking him for the poll 🤧 but, I'm looking forward to any potential Monty content and how this silly guy locks in or flop <3

Boy oh boy do I have the ask for you

Thanks for the ramble anon it was a good read 👍

Well Yves does act accordingly to your personality. If you are pretty clueless BUT would accept him as your ONLY romantic partner for life, he would be extremely straightforward, cutting to the chase and be clear in what he wants the relationship to be (it was exhibited in Best and Worst of Both worlds)

But if he predicts that you will reject him or eventually cheat on him later in the relationship despite all the measures to stop you from doing so, he will remain platonic. And his prediction model is horrifyingly accurate. Mans will even reject YOU if he knows you can't keep it in your pants 💔

Oh yeah if it's vulnerability you're looking for Yves is ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT the man you're looking for homie 😭 he is THE fort knox of mental illness, you can (almost) never catch him lacking and is always locking in while Monty is human

Literally Yves isn't actually human anymore

Here are other pieces of writing that has monty in it, idk if you seen them yet but it was all clumped together with Yves's MASSIVE sections

What makes Monty wanna fuck you (the lower half of this post is just Yves waffles)

Montgomery as a dad (scroll to like half of it to skip Yves's part)

Yves isn't necessarily okay with being only a platonic yandere

[diamondperfumes]

@saltywinteradult I don't know why you blocked me before screenshotting my post and reposting it to, I suppose, "refute" my post amongst your followers, but I welcome open discussion at any time! I don't like this back and forth of screenshotting. You definitely don't need to censor my username either, as I stand by what I said and don't see any problem with it. If your followers have issues with what I said too, they can easily reply to the post I wrote, or send me an ask (I'm pretty sure my inbox is open; please let me know if not).

That said, I think this post is a good encapsulation of the reasoning fans have for hating Daenerys, but also an encapsulation of why I love her:

Murder is horrific. That applies as much to Dany burning Mirri alive in a magical ritual as it does to Mirri murdering Dany's baby in her womb. And you are absolutely entitled to finding Dany a horrifying character for murdering an enslaved woman. What I love about Dany, though, is that she is not a hypocrite or an aestheticized martyr. She refuses to let bad things happen to her loved ones without reprisal. She will not accept the death of her child blithely. Just as any other parent or family member who seeks vengeance for their loved ones, be it Robb Stark, Lady Stoneheart, the Sand Snakes, Doran Martell, and more, Dany will not forgive the woman who murdered her son. Her son is her bottom line, just as he was when Viserys threatened his life, making Dany finally accept that he was no longer her brother. And I would much rather that Dany do the "horrible thing," an act of vengeance and blood magic, than forgive Mirri. Forgiving Mirri would not have been a realistic or human response. Above all, GRRM writes well fleshed out, human characters. I relate to the Dany who loves her children so much that she'll forgive pain to herself (for example, she bears no ill will toward Mirri for causing her the exruciating physical pain of a miscarriage) but not to her children, people, or loved ones. I relate to the Dany who is angry at those who harm her loved ones, and is ruthless and furious rather than passive and docile in the face of that pain and suffering. I relate to the Dany who, as a teenage bridal slave pit against another slave, made an arguably selfish decision. I want my female characters to make at times selfish, at times horrific choices, in the name of love, family, motherhood. GRRM created a beautifully multidimensional female character in breaking from the "passive recipient of violence" mold for so many fantasy women––violence is done unto Dany, but she will not be the submissive, obedient, demure martyr who dies or suffers to make others comfortable. Her baby had meaning to her. Her baby was her home. And she avenged that loss, as I'd expect any realistic, human mother to.

In a feudalist setting, any character who did what Mirri did would've been executed. Mirri expected to be executed to, and in fact goaded Dany with that intent. I would love if you, or anyone else, would name someone who'd forgive Mirri and let her go in this situation! I genuinely am curious to see if you can come up with anyone. If Mirri was going to be executed anyway, I much prefer Dany's mentality––"She told herself that there were powers stronger than hatred, and spells older and truer than any the maegi had learned in Asshai. The night was black and moonless, but overhead a million stars burned bright. She took that for an omen."––than just pure hatred. Dany creates life out of death. As Mirri teaches her, "if life was meaningless, what was death?" "only death may pay for life." She could have beheaded Mirri in one go, and such violence may have satiated her anger, but what would be left? The cycle of life and death is ever present in Dany's arc, and I find it fascinating. Most of the characters who behead or murder people, even innocents, like Ned Stark with Gared (the starting action of AGOT), have no interest in creating life from death. They emphasize the finality of death; Dany transcends it.

If it was just enough for Dany to burn Mirri, then I myself wouldn't praise the act as much. All the loss Dany experienced, the upheaval and pain and suffering, went into the birth of the dragons. She had to follow the clues left behind in her blood and dreams to understand that the ultimate key to the ritual was her own sacrifice. Dany did not just stand by and watch as Mirri burned. She walked into that funeral pyre herself, with, yes, bravery in her heart (I noticed that some people were mocking that phrase of mine in the tags of my post, but does it not take bravery to walk into fire?). If she didn't sacrifice her own life and self, the dragons would not have hatched. Thus you may argue that Dany is a hypocrite for burning Mirri, but Dany involved her own being in the ritual too. She paid the price for the ritual and suffered its consequences in the loss of Rhaego and the splintering of the Khalasar.

Mirri is not innocent in the act of murdering Rhaego. One of the clever aspects of GRRM's writing is that characters like Mirri and Penny serve to problematize the overall heroism of characters like Dany and Tyrion. Dany and Tyrion are still heroes (though of course, for most of the fandom, they are villains, and I'm sure for you they are both villains as well). Very rarely do authors give characters like Mirri agency. And it's not as if George has given all of those positioned characters that agency. Jeyne Poole, Gilly, Lollys and Falyse Stokeworth, Pia, they don't get these kinds of emotionally charged, high tension moments with their respective POV characters. They get emotional moments, yes, but the space to call out the POV characters? Mirri and Penny get that. Mirri has the textual agency to express her motivations, act on her motivations, and explain them to Dany. She is an intelligent woman. Trying to take away her culpability in Rhaego's murder is not a progressive or feminist reading, in my view; it strips her of her agency and her motivations. Now, if you want to argue that she had every right to murder Rhaego, that is a separate conclusion! But as to whether or not she did murder Rhaego, it's undeniable. And even if you don't believe me, or Dany, both the official ASOIAF app and the ASOIAF appendices list her as the murderer.

I would love if someone sent this to @saltywinteradult! I enjoy healthy debate (I put that post in the ASOIAF tag for a reason). What I don't like is back-and-forth screenshotting. If you don't want to have a conversation with me that's no problem, but I find it odd to screenshot someone you have blocked and discuss her post. Why don't we have a free discussion? That's why I made a tumblr account, to discuss ASOIAF. Please let me know your thoughts!

[wordy-little-witch]

Ficlet I had to get outta my head

TW: attempted noncon (thwarted), attempted drugging (partially effective but not really), allusion to traumas and mental illness never specified.

Ships: cross guild poly, pre-relationship but post-feelings lmao

Wild Cross Guild concept but a meeting with a prospective sponsor/partner who deals in smuggled goods and black market trade, where Buggy is Immediately on high alert because something about this woman is absolutely Not Right. He's never been able to explain it in a way that was understood, the ways people sounded and acted and spoke acting as beacons to his attention. He just called it a vibe or declared if he liked or disliked someone. He was rarely wrong, and Buggy was certain that he did not like this lady.

She made a show of pulling the inexperienced boss card, citing her late husband being the founder, the title and responsibilities falling to her in his wake. She brought gifts, armed with a sheepish and hopeful smile, a demure slip of a woman before what, to those on the Seas, were three power houses.

Buggy didn't buy it for a moment. For one, her hands were calloused in such a way that it spoke of weapons training. For another, the gifts were surface levels of striking fancies, but the specificity of them could easily be attributed to luck or simple price. Mihawk enjoyed a fine red wine, which just so happened to be on the more expensive side - aged red wine of a fine quality was never cheap. Crocodile was not prone to hiding his propensity for riches, wealth, jewelry, or his beloved reptiles. His bananawani specifically hailed from their habitats in Alabasta, so the jewelers there doubtlessly made more than a few specialty items with their shape in mind. Finding one worth its price and the mythical associations of the 'wanis could easily be seen as a well-read woman making an effort.

Buggy's gift had been what made him cement his notion.

He spent decades playing the fool and spreading a net woven with lies, misinformation and subterfuge. It was not paranoia if people were truly out to get you, and Buggy knew more than anyone else in the damned world - barring maybe one other - just how quickly the hounds of hell will close at the heels of the weakest links.

His gift had been a treasure chest. Ordinarily, that alone with not cause much sway. No, inside the chest was gold, berri, jewels in many colors barring one. Buggy never wore red jewels, not out of hatred but out of self consciousness, out of paranoia. He had taken that token and tweaked it in a few areas of his proverbial net, citing red as a color he typically abhorred in gems. Some called it conceit. Some called it pettiness, or pickyness, or spoiled brat behaviors. Buggy called it useful.

Within the chest gifted to him was a distinct lack of red gem stones. Within the chest was a three dimensional puzzle map - one of the kind he collected and adored, had been infatuated by since his earliest memory at the knee of the man who would be king.

These things were expensive, rare, and a smuggler would never give it as a gift.

She said the other men had helped her select their gifts.

Buggy gave the ensemble a cursory glance from his periphery, and he bit back the urge to curl his lip.

None of these people felt, sounded or smelled safe. Their Voices were discordant, anticipatory, and dripping with greed and... guilt? The mess was more than he felt equipped to handle, so he turned his attention back to the woman, doe like brown eyes framed by dark lashes as she happily chattered away to Crocodile, innocence exuding from her pores.

He didn't trust her.

Mihawk was as attuned to his surroundings as ever, gaze sharp and mouth flat, though his attention was more on the visible and energetic threats in their midsts. Buggy, secure in the swordsman's watch, let himself focus on the woman.

It was because he was focused so intently that he saw her rather impressive sleight of hand as she offered to pour Crocodile's drink. Into one glass fell a powder, pink tinted which rapidly vanished in the amber whiskey leaving naught a trace.

Buggy was moving before he could stop himself, a hand snatching the drink from his lietenamt with a faux casual grin. He tossed her a wink and took a sip, delighting as everything froze.

Mrs Stone blanched, eyes bulging. Hands flew to weapons, all of which stopped as Mihawk shifted, barely a movement, barely a breath, before all of the inconsequential blades, guns and otherwise fell to useless pieces at his feet.

Before Crocodile could even respond, the woman was rising, face angry, moving to slip the hidden daggers from her sleeves before being halted and strung up by shackles of sand.

"What was it," Buggy asked softly, "that you added to the drink, my dear lady? It was awfully sweet for my Croco-chan's tastes. More up my alley, I'd argue."

"It wasn't meant for you!"

"How mean~"

Crocodile tightened his hold with the sand, earning a grunt of pain from their assailant. "What was in it," he hissed with a glare as dark as death.

The woman gave a slow grin, chuckling softly. "Have you ever had Amorenatta root?"

The woman and her men are arrested, a notice sent to their contact regarding the situation in plain terms. Buggy, having had but a sip, was not in mortal danger, he assured his crew. Amorenatta was a highly potent aphrodisiac and intoxicant. Even concentrated into a powder as it had been, the amount he consumed wouldn't cause any fatal side effects. Once the substance kicked in, he'd likely just... be a little worked up, as he put it with a blush, possibly a bit more loose lipped than usual.

It was only the doctor's hesitant interjection that led to Buggy paling, realizing his error. It was an aphrodisiac in cisgender men. Buggy, with his non-miraculous and non-injectable transition methods, may have a biochemistry that could result in an adverse reaction. Add on to it the hormones the root can release being connected to the nervous system where his Devil Fruit lurked in his genome, it would be safest to have a partner or two with him during such a time frame to handle any... needs... that arise.

Mihawk and Crocodile both volunteer, to everyone's surprise.

They cite not caring one way or another what they'd need to do, offering what could almost count as remorse for having blown off Buggy's initial reservations about the whole thing. They did not listen. Buggy is now paying the price.

As it would turn out, the drug was not pure Amorenatta. It also included a synthetic fertility enhancement, and it is only from a deep discussion with Mrs Stone that the truth of the attack came to light. Her goal had been to drug Crocodile and bed him, having planned on imbibing the drug herself. The plan there had been essentially a baby trap wherein she thought carrying his child would make for a weakness to exploit further into the dealings, given his not-so-secret history of sparing children.

Had that not been viable, then claiming the conception to be less than consensual had also been an option which would have barred the Guild from making many other allies in the market she excelled in currently, leaving her and her own as their sole source, thus maximizing the trade deal payoff.

Buggy catching her had not been in the cards whatsoever.

As his luck would have it, Buggy was affected by the drug in a different way than anticipated. Instead of growing a bit dizzy, he instead began to spike a fever. His blood pressure rose. The dichotomy of the genetic information, reaction to hormones, and his own devil fruit attempting to chop-chop the chemical itself within lead to a reaction akin to an illness from bacteria or a virus.

Mihawk and Crocodile made good on their vows to assist, however, and the three men find themselves rather taken with the domesticity of it all.

Mihawk, never quite known for his tact, asked if Buggy had ever considered a family before being faced with this situation. Buggy, tired, feverish, comfortable in a way he rarely was, confesses that he had wanted it. He'd always wanted it. He'd also feared it with every fiber of his being. He'd love to have a family, a spouse and a child or two, but his heart and soul belonged to the very Sea which hated him. He would have loved to have a family, but he knew first hand the trials, tribulations and terrors of a pirate for a parent, had seen what horrors persist in the world and what atrocities occur at Sea.

"All that aside," Buggy admits softly, head resting against a pale shoulder, eyes lidded as he smiles wanely at the logia user across the table in the sitting room, "I'd never be a good parent. I know it. Everyone knows it. I'm... not okay." He sighs, eyes drifting shut. "I never have been..."

[punkpandapatrixk]

The Kind of Sad You Can’t Understand

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why.

For such a long time I lived with this kind of mood without being able to express it anywhere, not to anyone. I was struggling for my sanity; I was constantly thinking of destroying myself; and I was hoping someone would see me, and rush to save me. But nobody ever saw that of me.

I was a badass. I was a cool girl. I seemed to everybody else a smart, talented, expensive girl who's got all her shit together. Even on days she wasn't all that together, she had an enviable life anyway. I appeared on the outside too glamorous for anybody to even imagine that on the inside I was rotting. I was this close to being dead, all the time.

Who in their simple-mindedness would've thought a girl like that could be so macabre all the time? And that’s how I experienced an entire life witnessing people’s lack of empathy. I guess my point of view was fragmented but that was how life was for me anyway. Ironically, some intuitive peeps who were able to see the macabre in me thought I was frightening more than anything HAHAHAH That was all the same in the end. Enough with the gossips. I don’t know what normal people expect from everybody else they meet, to be honest. I don’t know what I’d expected from them either.

I guess it’s because the society I grew up in was like that that I couldn’t bring myself to show anybody my distress. Trauma. Mental illness. Disordered personality. All of that was nothing but insanity. And insane people don’t belong in society.

So simple. Yet so cruel.

Thank you, Jesus. Mother Mary. Catholic Church. Thanks for all the rejection. I’m SO happy now!

That’s fucking twisted.

In a society brimming with nothing but pretenders, we meet and chit and chat and act like all of our troubles are manageable to say the least. ‘Yeah, it’s not that bad, to be honest.' But it was; you've just got to pose real strong otherwise people think you're a loser. 'I guess I’m OK.’ But you weren't; you've just got to really make it sound like you're still keeping it together. 'I'll be just fine.' But you wouldn't know; you didn't even know if you'd still wanna be alive tomorrow.

In the midst of all those meaningless exchanges, I hated quite nothing more than to hear, especially from men, how strong I was as a woman. I hated it like I'd never hated anything in my life.

It was suffocating to be seen as holding it together when you were literally breaking at the seams...

I wanted someone to be able to notice I was screaming on the inside. That I was gasping for air every second I was sitting there listening to their trivial chitter chatter. Who cares about your silly drama? Would you care for mine if you knew my life was on the line? And I hated those expectant eyes. All of them. Were they expecting me to share in their self-made woes and console them in the end? HAH. Go to hell, losers.

I always thought, none of MY problems were created by my own reckless behaviours that would've obviously hurt myself or others. Not in the beginning, at least. Unlike some idiots, I was never into drugs, one night stands, or even smoking; I never caused anybody any trouble. So why did everybody cause me trouble when all I wanted was just a peaceful, normal life? Shit, what even was my IDEA of a normal life? I can't remember now.

Certain days I feel very deeply that I want to cry but I don’t know why. There's always not enough reason to do so now. Haah... If it weren't for my abundance of Aquarius, which makes me incredibly lazy and antisocial, I'd have paraded around town and rallied to become a Neo Hitler and kill everybody in this rotten world. I hated this world so much.

The first ever PAC I put out here was ‘What’s Your Crazy?’ What ever was my reason for writing that? I was crazy and I needed some explanation.

I used to look like the girl in the third pic before I chopped all of my hair off everyone began to suspect I was gay. I wasn’t gay; I was depressed. Those unassuming idiots.

[damnfandomproblems]

Both of these asks did not read my ask

~~~~

"I am so happy for this person that they have never had to experience the things that would make people bitter uncomfortable and upset about this kind of thing but this entire response is so rude and disrespectful ."

Cool. Good job assuming you know my life or struggles. Children shouldnt be shamed for having fun. I also literally said that they should be taught to be respectful and not to mock the disorder.

Tiktok is horrible about filters and pushing things to you that you dont want to see. Ofc its going to upset you to see kids do this all the time. The algorithm doesnt give you a choice.

What those people do online spreads misinformation and has actual consequences for people who are actually living with those things.

No one said they didnt.

If you’re old enough to be online you’re old enough to understand the consequences of your actions and when behavior is inappropriate.

Wrong. No one taught them. Humans do have a sense of right and wrong, but thats all it is. A sense. It takes experience and wisdom to learn what actually harms other and what doesnt. We are not born with these answers and no one is teach these children these things. Our society has changed drastically and basic respect and self discipline is almost a thing of the past.

Screaming at kids for just doing what they believe is having fun will not fix the problem of lack or respect and consideration they hold for others.

They make it much harder for self diagnosis to be taken seriously and when those who actually have something mention it online it gets discredited because of these people. It is an actual problem in our community’s and I do not appreciate the lack of understanding and dismissive nature this person has.

Indeed. It is a problem. But again shaming kids is not the solution. Doing so will just hinder their creativity and make them feel insecure.

Many of these kids are dealing with problems of their own. Theres a lot of neglect going on due to parents allowing their children to be raised on the internet. This is also causing the problems in behaviour we are dealing with. Many are depressed and are just looking to have a bit of joy in their life.

You cant just take it away from them. You cant tell them they arent allowed. You arent their parents but shaming them will just cause resentment and more aggressive behaviour.

If theres anyone who has a lack of understanding and dismissive nature it is you.

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The person was probably talking mostly about teenagers and adults doing this kind of thing not kids because that’s mostly who do it and they know better.

You should never assume some people "should" know better about niche topics. There are still adults and teens who arent terminally online or look for drama. Many just see a cool concept, get inspired, make a video and move on with their day.

Also from the way this person talks they have clearly never had to deal with anything (mental illness or otherwise ) that was later made trendy ( but only if you have a fun version obviously).

More assumptions. I dont owe you my diagnosis report.

I was relentlessly bullied for things I can’t control you can’t even begin to understand how it feels to log on one day and see countless people acting out stereotypes of the thing people torment you for and spreading wild amounts of misinformation.

:)

Because that’s a massive part of the problem

MISINFORMATION BEING SPREAD

Correct. Misinformation is a problem. But you are attacking the wrong people.

Cutting off the flowers but leaving the roots.

It may be fun and games to you but to people who actually have those things it’s incredibly hurtful and genuinely damaging irl and online there is no way to fake it without spreading misinformation

You know what's also damaging? Telling children to kill themselves over stuff like this. Because that's what a lot of people do. Ive seen it happen here on tumblr countless times. Blogs disappearing and many other going quiet only to then at some point have a family member or friend come on and announce their suicide on the page or on a different blog.

No one os saying the lack of respect, consideration and the abundance of misinformation ISNT a problem.

But driving people to suicide is not a solution. Shaming people for having fun just playing pretend is not the solution.

And yes there are those that know what they are doing is wrong. That still does not justify harassing them or suibaiting them. It does not matter how much it upsets you, you dont get to decide a random stranger on the internet deserves to die for it.

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Honestly i dont care what kids do for fun

My elder sister got really upset at our niece (10) for making an OC with a split personality because its "problematic" and shes met people who actually have DID so she cant stand her making a "disrespectful" character.

Its stupid. Our niece was just having fun and meant zero disrespect to people who actually deal with these kind of mental disorders.

Read this 10 times please ^^^

Its important that children learn about these things. Learn what they are and how they can affect the people that have them. Im not trying to say they shouldnt, but we shouldnt shame kids for having fun with the concept of these things either.

Note that i absolutely said this ^^^

Unfortunately the kids who started doing this trendy stuff were never taught about these disorders besides people online and eachother. But they werent wrong to be having fun with it. Just they should have been taught how to be respectful and not mock people who have these disorders and to learn that them pretending to have "alters" or characters in their mind to cope with boredom and the general shittyness of life is not the same as someone who was traumatized to the point of their mind actually splitting into two (or more) separate personalities and people (among other things) in order to protect itself.

Biggest paragraph here so how did you miss me saying this

Its the new "kinning" thing in alot of ways and really kids just need to be taught discipline and respect towards others. Many think being a mean bully is "edgy and cool" but when i was a child all the "edgy and cool" teens were scene kids and they were ACTUALLY the sweetest people i knew because they knew what it was like to be bullied and hurt by their peers. Its just a big problem of kids not being properly taught how to behave around people. Zero consequences for their actions and not learning to take responsibility for them too

Like seriously how do you read my ask this badly to have missed this

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I never said there weren't any problems. Especially about misinformation and people's behaviour. My point was about how no one should be shamed, harassed, anything else for exploring DID and the like as a concept.

There are better things you can do to alleviate the problems you are facing that ISNT driving people off the internet and to suicide. This "solution" is incredibly prevalent in these communities and only creates more negative stigma around people with these disorders, so i suggest you work on that first.

The behaviour of people, especially children cannot be fixed by the DID and neurodivergent community alone, but people will be more amenable to listening to you about your issues if you suggest compromise and understanding.

They are humans with their own problems going on and you need to treat them as such. You will find people who are completely unwilling, but you need to not focus so much on them and instead move on to paying attention to the people who are willing. Eventually the people who are willing will outnumber those that aren't. Just learn to stop treating people like shit and assuming they are always intentionally malicious and you'll find a lot more people are willing to help you.

Anon is replying to two several asks relating to Problem #4978.