#chronic fatigue train man

[masculinerose]

Regardless of your opinion on whether trans men can identify as butches, the truth of the matter is that so many trans men experience being a butch in public (pre-transition AND post-trans) even if they don't identify as one.

Something I think skinny people tend to forget is that fat transmascs exist, and do you know where a lot of the fat can go? In the chest. Even when I'm binding, at best I look like a cis man with gynecomastia or abnormally humongous pecs, and most people are automatically going to assume boobs = female.

And yeah, sure, testosterone deepens your voice. But it doesn't make your speaking mannerisms masculine, and some trans people on T still need voice training to vocally pass as men. For me personally, that isn't really possible right now, due to chronic fatigue.

Combine those both together with my refusal to conform to cismasculine fashion standards (aka daring to wear any color other than white, black, grey, brown, and blue when wearing ties and button downs) and I am viewed by the public as a very sexually androgynous (gay man sounding voice, and a mustache) butch.

Even when I try my best to pass (deepen my voice so much it hurts, bind, wear boring colors, don't mask so people can see my mustache thus GREATLY RISKING MY PHYSICAL HEALTH as I am immuno-compromised) I STILL look like a butch to everyone.

While experiencing being perceived as a butch never makes someone a butch inherently, you're seriously going to tell me with a straight face that I have no right to identify as something I actively experience being every fucking time I go into public? Give me a break.

[spale-vosver]

About Me

UPDATE: Y'all lost anon privileges because you're too pussy to insult me and put a face to it.

I'm Geoff, a 21 year old history major and aspiring archivist. I use he/xe/xey pronouns, and I'm a crippled transsexual faggot converting to Judaism.

This blog, much like my interests, is very eclectic, and will largely consist of reblogs -- though I'm not opposed to making my own posts when the mood strikes.

I'm incredibly nerdy and love to ramble, so please don't hesitate to ask me about any of my interests! Said interests, along with more info and DNI, are under the cut. Also, please feel free to spam like and reblog, as well as message me!

* I am an adult

I'm 21, and will more than likely post adult content with NSFW text and subjects. However, I will never post explicit sexual content, gore, etc. This is your warning. Please keep this in mind if you choose to interact with or follow me!

* I'm disabled

I'm autistic, have ADHD, OCD, ARFID, BED, and OCPD. Physically, I have asthma, chronic leg and ankle pain that causes me to limp, dysautonomia, chronic fatigue, and suspected migraine disorder. I use identity first language (autistic man, disabled man, etc), and identify strongly with the cripplepunk movement. I personally don't care who uses the word cripple or identifies with the movement, but that's because I don't give a shit about slur discourse.

* I'm converting to Judaism

After five years of convincing myself out of it, I've begun the process of converting to Judaism, and will blog about it here. I have a sponsoring Conservative synagogue and will be beginning conversion classes in August. I will not share the name of my synagogue nor its location for obvious reasons. I do not and will not tolerate antisemitism, nor will I answer bad faith questions about Israel/Palestine. If you absolutely have to know my opinions, I'm pro-Palestine, pro-cohabitation, and politically anti-Kahanist and vehemently opposed to Likud and the Israeli government.

To my knowledge, I do not have any Jewish heritage -- both sides of my family are strongly Catholic and are from Ireland, Germany, and Poland. If there are any Jews in my family line, we either don't know about them or they converted to Christianity.

* I do not budge about my identity

I am a transsexual crippled faggot who supports dykes, trannies, cocksuckers, muffdivers, queers, fairies, aces, aros, and who, again, does not give a shit about slur discourse within the queer community. Don't try to start that with me. You will be blocked. I loudly and proudly support all good faith queer identities. Yes, even those ones.

* Interests

As mentioned, I'm a huge huge huge nerd! Right now I'm obsessed with Doctor Who (Five is my favorite), but I'm a big sci-fi/fantasy fan in general. I also love trains and sustainable urban planning and am prone to going on rants about the absolute state of train travel in America.

* Please ask me to tag things!

I'm really bad about tagging in general, so please ask me to tag any potential triggers! I will probably forget if I'm not explicitly asked. However, I will not tag any slurs that I can reclaim or use.

DNI

Exclusionists (ALL TYPES), antisemites/islamophobes/racists/queerphobes/ableists/bigots/etc, if you think queer is a slur, if you think minorities have to be "nice" or "polite" to earn your support, if you use "Zionist" to mean "Jew I don't like", antitheists, exvangelicals/exmos/etc who refuse to deconstruct their cultural Christianity, and probably more I forgot to mention. I'm not going to humor your shit. I will block you.

[themulitipurposechannel]

Dynamics: Part 2, <Next!>

For Apocalypse F! Mikey: Now see Uncle Tello content is great and I love it. But consider this, it’s alr everywhere AND think bout Master Michelangelo /Uncle Mi supremacy ✨👀 think bout uncle Mi being the warm/comforting/ steadying presence that Cj clung to when Leo and April are stuck being the sole two pillars of leadership for the entirely of sentient life on earth and Donnie is off doing his mad scientist things(No hate to D but we know our boi has low empathy and tends to get hyper fixated to the point he ignores everyone. Not that he wouldn’t absolutely try for Junior cuz he would but ya know what I mean) which leaves the Mikey cuz our poor Raphie and Casey Sr died early.

Like Cmon guys hear me out Mike alr has Dr feelings and his ole mediator shtick. you can’t tell me that as he grew and matured it didn’t not grew stronger. Plus he defo Leaned into the whole mediator thing esp with the apocalypse cuz someone defo needed to be the calm mediator in the chaos that was the kraang. Plus he was ALR the most mentally/emotionally stable out of all the fam and a child in a chaotic environment (cough the apocalypse cough) is gonna unconsciously gravitate towards that. And mikey being mikey is then absolutely gonna white knuckle his “I’m emotionally healthy” even more cuz we got a kid now. We gotta make sure he grows up with SMTH.

Plus I like to think everyone had diff roles in raising Cj. Eg: Cj spends time with tello if he wants to hang out and blow shit up or wants to brainstorm tangible solutions. but if he needs/wants emotional support or emotional safety he goes to Mikey and if he wants all of the above plus advice in general it’s Leo and Comander April lmao (but 7/10 times it’s Leo). Side note: Before Raph died he and mikey used to tag team M’s role and April’s role was formerly Cassandra’s but welp we all know what happened 😭. Also I just wanna make it clear that these roles weren’t always hard and fast rule. It’s just generally the common status quo but was still subject to change depending on the circumstances cuz ppl are ppl and ppl are complex. Like if Cj was feeling particularly scared for Dee or April’s mortality I can guarantee he glomped them. And they let him.

Edit: In any case, their dynamic is basically all round calm, slow and cozy vibes. Cuz like I said, Mikey was acting as Cj’s living sentient equivalent of a warm, weighted blanket. Plus mystic overuse/cursed aging gave Mikey a lot of chronic fatigue and plus Mi leaning hard into the whole mediator thing rlly made him mellow out esp when he had to be responsible for a kid. So most of their hanging out was either sitting around talking about their day, making up stories bout random objects they found like ‘I bet that cup has a chip in cuz an alligator got it’ ,Cj ranting, mystic training, lots and lots of snuggles or (big shocker I know) Mikey reading to Cj (don’t Judge Cj, he finds Uncle’s Mi voice calming. And as tor Mikey, options are limited when you’re old, physically frail and in an apocalypse) or them reading tgt in comfy silence with the occasional comment of ‘man this character is so stupid’ and ‘I know right!’. Also In the earlier days when resources weren’t so scarce and Mikey had more energy they used to draw on the walls tgt using chalk but well.. stuff like that don’t last very long in the apocalypse.

.

For Past/present time: Once Cj starts to properly distinguish between future and present and feels a little more ready to start properly interacting with P!fam. He starts to build a stable relationship with Mikey. their dynamic is one of more equal standing cuz of the lack of age difference aka the big theme for this dynamic is all abt growing up tgt. This creates a more free and unrestrained dynamic where both feel more encouraged/safe to try new things cuz they don’t have to worry bout any hovering from any older siblings (sorry Leo he tries but even he can’t fully escape the big brother instincts even towards Case. Which is hilarious cuz Cj is the most self sufficient out of everyone XD ) and cuz they don’t have to worry bout looking stupid in front said older siblings if they fail/ being coddled if they fail. Initially it was a very big whiplash for Casey to adjust to the fact that someone he used to look for answers/ be a pillar was just as clueless as he was AND the fact he could freely argue back with said someone due to the lack of age difference.

But once both parties settled in, they have alot of fun just being kids and messing around. Honestly their dynamic is adorable. With Mikey’s more adventurous and more hopeful personality helping Cj start to relax a little more and start acting more like the 15 year old he is. And Cj’s more serious and sensible mindset helps Mikey become a little more thoughtful/cautious as he’s more open to Cj’s criticism cuz it feels alot less condescending than the rest of the fam due to the age similarity.

This dynamic also plays a part in Cj’s adjustment to the past. Due to said adventurous behaviour, Mike always wants to show Cj new things. And his emotionally intuitive nature helps him pick up when Cj is uncomfortable but doesn’t always feel comfortable saying it or can just generally quickly pick up the warning signs of a trigger. So after some trial and error Mikey gets pretty good at knowing when to push and pull Case out of his comfort zone or just out right cancel an outing cuz Dr feelings can sense the ensuing panic attack/ PTSD triggers. Which Casey rlly appreciates. On the flip side, Cj is the biggest advocate (second to Leo) for letting Mikey do his thing cuz he knows what Mikey is capable off and isn’t blinded with older sibling instincts. Which Mikey greatly appreciates. We stan mutually supportive siblings.

And as the youngest, they both bond (mostly Miguel talks, Cj listens oh how the tables turn) over how frustrating it is to see the rest of their family (for Cj it’s him using his experience with F!Fam to relate to P!Mikey cuz the P!Fam don’t rlly baby Casey the same way/the obvious extent they do for Miguel. For Mikey, it’s more they water down info either intentionally/unintentionally or try to stop him from doing stuff cuz they want to protect him. And for Cj, it’s more them trying to be extra subtly careful of his sore spots. Like Legit cuz of Cj, everyone at some point had independently googled ‘how to care for war-torn ptsd riddled relative’ and ‘how to help someone with material insecurity issues’ or ‘how to support someone going thru bereavement’. For once it wasn’t only Mike reading psych stuff lmao) trying to water things down for them like dums dums XD.

They also tag team the rest of their family with the combined powers of their puppy dog eyes and shared status as “baby’s of the family” to get out of trouble/get what they want like the gremlins they are 😂. Generally when hanging out they’re either doing things action driven stuff (a stark contrast to F!Mikey and Cj. Cuz P!Mikey is younger, less traumatised and hasn’t been peepawed) like graffiti (Mikey sprays full on masterpieces and Cj loves spraying colourful doodles cuz he’s delighted to play with all sorts of bright colours and see the pretty art Anglo makes that Cj didn’t have the luxuary of seeing in the apocalypse, so despite the huge skill gap, which is rapidly becoming smaller, they still have fun tgt), skateboarding, playing video games, parkour or Mikey kidnapping Cj to show/get him to try smth he didn’t get to do in the apocalypse, *cough the occasional arson cough* Like I said they’re awesome lmao

On a side note: both Cj and Mikey are very happy to have a cool brother/friend who is the same age as them. For Cj it’s cuz fellow kids were very rare back in his time. Meaning the kids that were round him were either much older or much younger so same age friends is very much a novel experience lmao. As for Mikey, although he does call Cj baby brother( he doesn’t actually enforce that unless in certain situations like Cj in distress or trying to get Cj to do Miguel’s part of chores lmao) most of the time he’s happy to not be alone in his age grp of family/friends cuz it can get a little lonely sometimes. Raph, April and Casey have each other, Donnie and Leo have each other and now Mikey and Cj have each other! Yaayyy

[lastwave]

aghj fuck everything ok. i say this as someone who enjoys analyzing jean! hes an interesting little guy. but so so many people refuuuuse to acknowledge just how much privilege jean has over harry as an ablebodied, never-addict, (comparatively) ableminded, and arguably straight dude.

SO LIKE. Harry's very chronically ill like. canonically. post polio syndrome, all the shit that comes with hep c (joint pain, organ damage, etc etc), and his use of speed implies chronic fatigue. AND when jean gets to him after the tribunal he has at LEAST one gunshot wound (in some playthroughs he gets shot twice), and we don't even know if Kim GOT the bullet(s) out. jean is ablebodied. he has facial scarring from when he had smallpox(?) but other than that he seems to have made a full recovery while harry never did- harry still has partial paralysis. and even IF jean was in some form chronically ill, still jean feels entitled to make some smarmy comment about disability pension even tho harry has more than earned that shit.

its very easy to see the subtext that jean thinks harry deserves this. he basically outright says it in the "you know what he told me?" line. he took that not as a sign that something was deeply fucking wrong and that harry needed help (which, btw, "i want to get worse" is almost always a cry for help and an indication that someone has completely given up), but jean took it as someone accepting whats coming to them and that harry needed to learn a lesson. which, depending on the playthrough, harry was a major ass, but during the midst of a mental breakdown is NOT the time to address that. and that isn't teaching a lesson.

its exacting revenge jean felt entitled to for "putting up" with him. he thinks hes some martyr- and not even for harry's assholery. to be clear. in the fascist and some moralist playthroughs jean expresses frustration at having to go to sensitivity training. not what harry actually said. which, while speaking volumes abt harry's character, also says a fuck ton about jean's. ALSO, there are several instances where he complains about conservative talking points- "falling marriage rates", "the liberals" (in context of the f slur, not economic liberalism). which leaves one thing for jean to be upset over- harry's addiction, mental illness and disability.

its very very simple! jean thinks that harry deserves bad things because he's an addict, and thinks that harry's a burden because he's both mentally and physically disabled. and its not frustration that comes from a place of love, because otherwise he would have fucking been there. he would have reintroduced himself when he realized harry did for real have total retrograde amnesia. the fact anyone even let harry continue the investigation after finding out abt that is pretty damn heinous.

he doesn't HAVE sympathy for harry and he doesn't care about his well being- jean cares about what harry's presence in his life makes him feel like. Jean likes to pity himself and Harry's existence lets him position himself as some long suffering angel that "so graciously keeps giving harry chances". this is especially apparent in the "sorry i didn't feel like buttering you up, i have clinical depression" line. (sorry WHAT about a man that tries to drown himself in his car by driving it over a roof implies not depressed?).

like. even ignoring all of harry's other shit he had before the bender, retrograde amnesia and functional clinical depression are not comparable. that AND harry probably has a dissociative disorder AND some form of mania its just ??????

jeans very very privileged over harry and exerts it often. hes an asshole. a very interesting asshole! but an asshole nonetheless

[bandsandwristbands]

it’s me ur bbgrill tell me yuor 1-4 headcanons rn

gettin grilled by the bbgrill

Level 1!

hhhh i mean canon does not give much to work with imo

Firstly Lee and Gaara are massive shit talkers.

Lee got that chronic pain, dawg, like regular shooting pains and nerve issues but he doesn't say anything cuz he doesn't want anyone to worry or feel bad(👀Gaara *cough*)

Gaara ups his tai jutsu training (I think this is canon in filler lol) but Lee helps him out by sending over reference material all the time. The homies tell Lee that he's overdoing it but Gaara keeps and studies everything Lee sends.

Speaking of studying I think Gaara had to study hard for the bureaucratical aspects of the Kazekage spot. (Probably mostly shadowed Baki for a long time) Like strength is a given but he was totally on his own when it came to education and diplomatic stuff because he was pushed through the academy purely through fear and nepotism. Not to say he isn't smart, once he starts in on something he's similar to Lee in that he goes all in, it becomes a whole aspect of his personality.

Level 2 💥

Sorry but Gaara still has mood swings and struggles to regulate his emotions. He masks real well, king of compartmentalize and dissociate lol but mans lashes out sometimes. Especially before shukaku is extracted like he canonically is not allowed to sleep his neural pathways are fried. He does try to not let it on to anyone because it Freaks People Out for obvious reasons. (The gaalee here is that Lee doesn't gaf about moodswings because he is also TooMuch sometimes, just a very accepting guy so he's someone Gaara can be less under tight emotional control with and he tries to offer healthy outlets hiii gay thoughts and mushy feelings)

Also he cries way easily, sometimes he just chillin and he's like aw fuck not again, cuz the fatigue and stress manifests or just feeling generally overwhelmed(*references 1(one) scene in shippuden*)

Level 3 !

Gaara is a brat, a little shit, a bit of an instigator even. Lee is one of the only people who can really challenge him on his attitude when he's being a menace. Temari and Kankuro too but Gaara knows how to push their buttons too well loll

I mean the guy definitely misuse his authority sometimes (usually for the greater good but sometimes just to be sneaky)

Lee is spiteful and has a greedy streak in the sense that if he wants to go for something, he doesn't gaf if he 'deserves it' he'll earn that shit for himself and then rub it in your face but somehow be polite about it. Utilizes malicious compliance often.

Gaara is a picky eater, certain textures bother him and specific foods he just won't eat, he later explains to Lee that he's been poisoned a few times and even the smell of certain foods makes him feel violently ill as a result. It tasted fine when he ate it at first but his body remembers the pain and fear quite vividly. Lee goes out of his way to be courteous of this. Alternatively Lee will eat anything on principle of not being wasteful.

Level 4!! (The ones im slow cookin at all times)

HELLO RELIGION/CULTURE HCS Gaara gets into reviving old Suna traditions and sponsors more regular celebrations to rebuild a sense of community outside of the military state previous Kazekages had been building. (This wins over a lot of Old Head civilians because they remember when practicing and appreciating their religious figures was commonplace) In general Suna becomes a lot more colorful and lively especially in the years post war. Art and clothing and jewelry actually becomes a pretty decent trade asset. The regular big celebrations encourage more tourism, helps the economy and helps with their perceptions as this harsh, conservative village.

Also his Mom was from the aboriginal tribes of Suna and so getting connected with that part of himself feels like getting closer to her.

Lee Officially Courts Gaara following Sunan tradition (w/ lots of help from Tem, Kank, team Gai) in front of the whole village, my guy is a romantic and audacious af and really it sweeps Gaara right up off his feet.

Established relationship, Gaara is seriously outrageous with PDA, very much likes to flex his Lee because he didn't think he'd ever have anything close to a loving partner and Lee eats it up(blushing profusely). They're so gross and in love that whoever invites them anywhere will receive a formal warning about their behavior.

The sand sibs have a punk band together for funsies. It's mostly Kanks hobby, but post chuunin Baki shares a couple old man cd's with them and they just start banging out songs here and there to spend more time together and process their feelings in an abstract way.

(I project my gender onto Gaara a lil too; uses he/him cuz that's what everyone is used to but doesn't necessarily think of himself as anything specific genderwise, he was just a monster for twelve years afterall. Dabbles with feminity sometimes but doesn't think too hard about it.)

[fizziepopangel]

Chronically Ill Angel Dust

Author's note: I suffer from CFS and I have a few other undiagnosed issues, and as I can feel the effects of my current flare, this headcanon list is rather self-serving.... I kinda wanna make a few more of these for other characters with other various chronic illnesses. Let me know if you have any suggestions! -Fizzie❤️

Angel suffers from CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) believed to be brought on by a mixture of his years of drug abuse wearing on his body, and years of psychological and emotional trauma. He isn’t sure how true that is, but he knows he feels like shit more than he doesn’t and he hates it…. Very few people know about his condition, the list being only 3 people long (Valentino, Charlie, and Husk).

Given the fact that he has a chronic illness and has a job that puts a lot of emotional and physical strain on his body, Angel tries to find little things that make him feel better. One thing that he’s come up with is skin care and long baths.

Naps. So many naps, and so many Fat Nuggets cuddles.

Fat Nuggets acts as a sort of unlicensed service animal/emotional support animal for the spider demon. Angel never really trained the pig to do tasks, but the little creature is eerily good at reading his owner's emotions and learned a few tricks that tend to help him on flare days.

Husk and Charlie are the only two in the entire hotel that know what Angel experiences. Angel told Charlie after a few months when he finally felt like he could trust the princess enough, but Husk found out on accident toward the time their friendship took that awkward first stage of romanticism when Angel broke down after a rather bad flare up of his symptoms left him in tears in his bed one day. Not being able to do much to help his spider companion in the moment, Fat Nuggets did what every good emotional support/service pig would do…. He went to Husk’s room and oinked at the door until the bartender let him in, then  stole his hat and ran to his own room so the man would have to come and find and help his friend.

Charlie always stops by Angel’s room to check on him whenever he skips their group activities, usually bringing him small gifts of things like pain pills, heating pads, and even small stuffed animals, or sometimes staying in his room to sit with him and let him vent about how he was feeling, or just so he didn’t have to be alone.

Husk’s approach to helping Angel usually revolved more around him doing things he knew often worsened some of Angel’s symptoms. Husk tended to help with things like laundry or dishes, or sometimes picking up things like pig feed for Fat Nuggets.

All of the soft blankets. He owns at least 20 or 30  soft and fluffy blankets and dozens of various sized pillows of varying firmnesses that he tries to use for his comfort for different aches and pains.

He has different sized heating pads and ice packs for the same reasons.

His shoulders, elbows, and wrists tend to ache the most, but his hips tend to bother him quite a bit too.

Angel does not know how to use his spoons wisely most of the time and tends to try to do as much as he can when he feels like he has more energy (spoons) than usual, leaving him utterly exhausted after he’s run out.

Valentino takes advantage of some of the spider’s symptoms for more “believable” reactions since he tells Angel that his acting has become stale.

Brain fog is a bitch for this man. The forgetfulness and confusion are usually his friends’ first signs that he isn’t doing the best. When his comebacks become a little dull, Husk usually starts to check in on him, while Charlie starts to check in when she notices Angel losing his words during conversations.

Once, when he was having a particularly bad flare up, a slightly older woman heard him complaining to Fat Nuggets as he walked out of a coffee shop, wincing as he leaned down to give his piggy pal a piggy cup. The woman then scoffed at him, saying that he was too young to be so tired or to know what joint pain really was…. Angel decked her. It worsened his pain, but he felt it was worth it.

[itsmalachitenow]

My Chuck Headcanons.

I have a lot of 'em, so here we go!

Chuck is not from this time period. He was a decently well-known musician a long time ago, but wanted to push his music further. He willingly took up the helm of the Ghost Train for inspiration and has been doing this for hundreds of years.

Chuck is not dead. But he's not exactly alive, either. Being on the Ghost Train for so long has drained a lot of his life force and vitality, even as it's kept him alive--so not only does he look Like That (sallow skin, sunken cheeks and eyes, etc.), but he's also got the equivalent of severe chronic fatigue now.

On the Ghost Train, he can walk and move around on his own just fine. The spectral energy of the vehicle is enough to keep him going. But off the Ghost Train, he's so exhausted to the point where he can't walk on his own.

Hence the wheelchair.

Chuck's wheelchair is made from old pieces of the Ghost Train. It gives him enough energy to function okay so long as he stays in it, but if he gets too far away from either the chair or the train, Chuck will die.

Chuck often feels disconnected from the here and the now. He's spent so long on the train, and his own time was so long ago, hardly any of the present feels real to him. To him, it feels like he's stuck in place while everyone moves forward, and he doesn't like that much.

He doesn't really know how to talk to people anymore after being sequestered so long.

Doesn't get visibly offended when people don't recognize him or his name, but you know deep down it troubles him a lot.

He was not the one to lure Gus into the station. He isn't even sure how Gus died here. But Gus seems keen on sticking around, so...!

Chuck refers to Gus as 'Nipote', feeling like the boy is the only sort of family he really has anymore. Gus doesn't mind, but is careful never to show how much he actually appreciates Chuck looking out for him.

Since Gus can't leave the station, whenever Chuck does, he brings things back from the outside for Gus such as games, food, or toys.

While Chuck is making music, do not disturb him. He's a moody man, and when he's in that Zone, it is so easy to break his concentration and piss him off.

If it's a partner or loved one he's angry at, the worst he'll do is fly into a tirade, maybe tear up and get overly emotional about it. He'll apologize profusely later because he's absolutely terrified they'll leave him and that he'll be alone again.

Strangers and enemies don't get the same courtesy. I fully believe this man has killed people over this before.

Chuck has killed to protect Gus. More than once.

He's very open-minded when it comes to other music. He doesn't hate modern music at all--he even enjoys some of it, even if it's not a sound he replicates.

Can play many instruments, including piano, violin, clarinet, and flute. There are a lot he knows his way around.

[earthearthearththearth]

Hello! How would the Mercs be with an S/O who has chronic health conditions (totally not because I’m self indulgent with a connective tissue disorder)

💕TF2 Mercs With An S/O With Chronic Health Conditions💕

Includes: all

Note: I referenced arthritis a lot for this and general connective tissue disorders. If anything is wrong, please correct me and I'll correct this!

🛠Engineer- You KNOW this man would be the most understanding. Not that it’s the same, but his hand was amputated, and even though he may have a hand now, he didn’t for a while! So he gets it. He isn’t overbearing, but he is attentive with how you are feeling. He’s willing to help out with anything, and although he knows you can handle yourself, that doesn’t stop him from going to Medic on the days you seem particuarly hurt or fatigued. He does his research and tries to see if any of the tips on there work. Most of them are emotionally based-don’t be overbearing, see what you can do, but he keeps up on the more physical ones too. Which means he likes to go for walks! Being from the country, he used to go on walks all the time. Nowadays he doesn’t have much time, but he tries to be there for you. 

🔥Pyro- “Aww he doesn’t get it so you go in the blanket pi-” NO! NO!! Just explain it, man. And if you don’t want to explain it, or if he’s embarrassed to ask, he’ll ask someone else. Pyro will get it, he’s not dull. Of course he doesn’t know most medical terms, he’s been hanging out with the same 8 people for the majority of his life, and the doctor there isn’t even licensed. At first he does think you are dying. But luckily that is cleared up before he sees you again. He can be a little overbearing at times, but he understands when you need your space. He just hates to see you hurt, and being uncared for with his own health problems (burn victim, i headcanon) has left him with the innate desire to make sure you always know your problems matter. 

⚾Scout-Scout is a goober and I’m not going to lie to you, he hears “connective tissue disorder” and thinks your bones are going to disconnect. Like, your arms are just going to be socks of butter. Eventually he is corrected, but it never leaves his head. Lucky for you, this boy is incredibly active, so there is never a dull moment. Sometimes he gets a little too caught up and you kinda gotta be like 

“Hey remember when I had chronic health conditions” 

And he’s like, “yeah :3” 

“Well they’re chronic-ing”

He is asking Medic, Engineer, Heavy, EVERYTHING. Anyone he thinks might know a thing or two is being asked questions. You might think you want to be asked, but he has so many. He listens to you the most though, since it is you he’s trying to learn about. Um..he knows what arthritus is! He..has heard of it. 

🦅Soldier-Does Soldier know what any of those words mean? Kind of! Disorder? I’m trying to give you deez orders! Har har harharharhar. Anyway. He is perplexed. On one hand, you seem up for training and you do quite well! Sometimes. Sometimes you spend time with Medic, sometimes you watch. Sometimes he wouldn’t notice you’re gone until a little ways in. He is in the ZONE of training. Eventually he’d ask a little something like, “WHY DIDN’T I SEE YOU ON THE FIELD TODAY MAGGOT?” 

And you’d say something like, “Just feelin’ a little stiff today,”, “Flarin up today”

So convince him not to crack you over his knee to get you feeling limber.

Eventually he’d understand that you have your off days and leave you be. But as soon as he’s done going bananas, he’s checking on you.

🗡Spy-He’s probably one of the most normal. He knows what’s up, he’s met people and had to act like said people, you know, spy things. He’d check on you to make sure you’re okay, staying active. He’d probably ask a little too much about your well being and to be honest, might keep a little booklet of sorts. Not that it helps a whole lot. In no way are you left out of anything, and he’s making sure of it. If you’re feeling particularly bad, you can hang out in his smoking room and get lung cancer as well. Sometimes he doesn’t smoke. His little treat

💉Medic- He is an unlicensed doctor damn you! He’s all up in those bones. He’d definitely want to take those joints and bones apart like a kid ripping apart a barbie. He loves you! Maybe he’d give you some painkillers or anesthesia. You are experimented and poked at a lot because finally, finally he can feel like a real doctor and deal with medical issues that aren’t bullets and death. He takes care of you when you need it, but it’s hard to tell if it’s because it’s fun to him or because he is genuinely worried. He gives you a lot of credit. 

💣Demoman-Alcohol is nature’s painkillers! He would be offering that up to you like no tomorrow, but it is because he cares. On a more sober note, he actually does have relatives with arthritis. I headcanon his mother to have arthritis, if alive. I don’t remember who the dead parent mercs are. So yeah, he gets it. He’s helping you with any chores you said you had to do,  a habit of his regardless of how your tissue connectivity is doing. 

🦘Sniper-Sniper is..yeah. Well he has your best interest in mind. Even though he knows what’s up, he’s not sure how to deal with it. He’ll probably have you drink some weird mix of gasoline, peyote, and rain water and tell you “it’ll work ya right up mate”. Don’t drink it. You having aches and pains almost constantly means he’s probably gonna have a shooting buddy. You’re his partner, yall are gonna be around each other anyways. It’s a little hard to get used to the days where you are around. Despite being a skilled sniper, the smallest noise makes him jump. It’s in his blood.

🐻Heavy-The most normal. Health issues? Okay. Want a sandwich or something? His love language is act of service. So if you’re feeling bad, sick, emotionally bad, aches, pains, or otherwise shabby, he’ll give you cut up fruit. Oh yeah. Watch this guy rip an apple in half! He can do more than that, but you know. He’ll ask if you’re okay and make sure you’re not strained, but for the most part everything is normal.

[galaxyhanart]

hallo!!

in your cabinet man au, does jay have any lasting effects from powering the game??

oh plenty!

first things first, due to his constant electrical usage (electricity was basically being pulled from him from age 8 to his early 20s) he's used to the constant buzzing and thrumming under his veins, to the point where he doesn't even notice it by the time the ninja get there. So when he leaves the game, everythings... quiet. It takes a while to get used to, as well as having to control his electricity from just shocking everyone in a five foot radius. That's one reason that he feels super close to Cole and Wu - Wu helped train his abilities so he can control his electricity and Cole helped because as the master of earth he can act as a grounding point.

He still struggles sometimes, and tends to snap his fingers and stim to generate sparks so his electricity isn't building up all day. Sometimes he forgets though

also! due to his struggle leaving the game, jay now has

lichtenburg scars!

Another side effect from powering the game is that Jay suffered from chronic fatigue while in Prime Empire. Now, he suffers from the opposite - chronic insomnia from feeling like he has too much energy to sleep

This is why the first season to take place after Prime Empire (Hands of Time) doesn't happen until a year after Jay's left - he needs time to cope with being alive, connect with his parents Ed and Edna, and learn to control his abilities and learn about his ninja responsibilities

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Thanks to you I recognized San Rafael Arnaiz’s name in a book.

*tearful smile*

I just love him so much.

For those who don't know him, St Rafael Arnáiz was a trappist, from Spain, who died at a relatively young age, of diabetes, around the time of the Spanish Civil War.

I found him -or he found me- at a very sad time in my life, that because of [PERSONAL BACKSTORY I'M NOT COMFORTABLE SHARING HERE], had me very desperate and despondent thinking I was "nothing" and that my life was "broken", that everyone had a neat little path and place in the world, and that I had missed my train to my own.

I did find some consolation in St Benedict Joseph Labré, but then, he was also somewhat a figure of legend: desiring for long the monastic life, being assaulted by scruples every time he tried it (probably also OCD and anxiety), he then dedicated most of his life to being a pilgrim, constantly going back and forth to places of pilgrimage, begging, taking letters from one monastery to another, etc, etc. But I could never become that.

The thing with St Rafael is that his journey is so real, so small, so humble, and above all so honest and raw, reading his notebooks is a very cathartic experience. His story starts like so many saints stories, with loving family and miraculous recovery from illness in childhood, a brilliant career in the world as an architect being left behind for the austere and secluded life of a trappist monk... and then he gets sick. And his whole life crumbles around him. He's handed a death sentence, left without direction, in the middle of a war-torn country. And so he goes through these harrowing experiences of having to tear himself from the trappa and then from the world and back again, while feeling at home nowhere, carrying the fatigue and the thirst and the irritability of his (then) chronic, terminal illness... and then he returns to the trappa one last time, and he live a little while, and then dies.

In appearance his life is a tragedy and a failure... and yet there's such a light in it. Not in terms of a forced cheerfulness and grand declarations of deserving pain and embracing expiation... when he suffers he suffers and he complains, and he tries again, and he finds joy in small things, and his mood changes several times in one day, from feeling the most miserable idiot, peeling turnips in the cold, to the mental image of turning Heaven into a farmer's market and laughing when thinking of seeing Christ and the saints and himself surrounded by baskets and baskets of prepared fruits and roots and veggies.

Bottom line: his life mattered, obscure and "failed" as it was. A life doesn't need to be triumphant to matter, and a person doesn't have to reach or perform the extraordinary or the expected to be lovable and loved and mourned and remembered.

Some of his art:

The man himself:

And that's why I picked him for my Confirmation saint, because I felt understood, and I understood that my life was worth it, wherever it led me in the end.

[cosmos-coma]

The Curses That Bind Us- Part 5

A/N: It was surprisingly hard to get in the mood to write this and unfortunately while trying to write I've been in severe job-hunting mode, so my apologies that its MONTHS since the last update. Hoping to be better about that in the coming updates.

this chapter is a little light on the editing, I just really wanted to get this out there, but I hope you Enjoy!

Pairing: Eskel X Reader

Words: 2689

Chapter summary: You and Eskel happen upon an occupied village and think perhaps that you've found a solution to your curse.

You couldn't be more wrong.

Warnings: Insults, (threat of) violence, blood (canon level), symptoms similar to chronic fatigue/pain, morally gray reader (I guess?)

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Witcher Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final)

_________

“May you waste away before your eyes like the rotten thief you are. May your hands grow weak and your constitution falter as you grow desperate for a cure that is out of your reach. May you only know mercy when the suppliant lips of the executioner admit to you their devastating defeat.” 

The words of your curse were a constant rattle in the back of your mind, some days it became white noise- just another piece of the background, like hoofbeats or waving grass. But other days it was the one thing that kept you up at night, the annoying twig that tapped endlessly at your window until you cry at the overwhelming frustration of it all. 

You watched the man in front of you, taking the lead on the thin forest path as you followed closely behind. Dark brown hair and broad shoulders with two lethal swords rattling gently against his back, yet as he glanced back at you, you were met with the sweetest honeyed eyes and warmest smile you had ever seen. Your lips couldn’t help themself as they pulled up into a small smile, your hand giving a little wave as he looked back to check on you. 

Your smile lingered as he turned back to the path ahead. This was the man that would break your curse, He had promised as much- and for once you believed it- you believed him.

 It was a new feeling- something still a little foreign to you. Perhaps it was his character? Uncommonly kind and gentle- especially for his line of work- or perhaps it was his determination? The way he constantly strove to move forward. 

‘Or perhaps… perhaps it’s that smile of his…? Bright and infectious in its ease--” you paused as you shook yourself out of your thoughts, “ No. Not now. There are bigger things at hand to worry about now,” You gently scolded your brain.

You steadied your focus once more, turning back to the path ahead, but no matter how you tried, your eyes never seemed to stray from your companion for long - and neither did your thoughts. 

The ache in your muscles yearned for the warm spark of his touch, the soothing brushes that seemed to - if only for a moment- chase the tiredness away. You’d been sharing a bed for a few days now- you kept assuring yourself it was because you were low on coin, but you knew better. You never woke up feeling so right as you did beside those amber eyes, as if your curse was no more than a distant nightmare. It was a high that never seemed to stay quite long enough, one that always left you yearning for your next fix.

“Whoa, Scorpion...” Eksel’s voice interrupted your train of thought as he slowed to a stop before you. You could hear the rumbling of boots falling on earth and the lazy chattering of men before you even pulled up beside him. 

“Ugh,” you remarked with disgust, your expression holding back nothing as you looked upon the red tunic-ed men. Many wore armor- helmets, breastplates, the usual uniform for a soldier- though some wore no armor at all, looking almost like the average townsperson- had it not been for the crest sewn into their tunics. “Redanians… I should have guessed as much,” you mumbled under your breath, though Eskel heard the venom in your words clear as day. 

He remembered you telling him how you ended up in this situation- how you had grown to become cursed. Your own nation's army had driven you from your home- an unfortunate, but similar story to nearly everyone in the town- but It wasn’t hard for Eskel to put the last of the pieces together. 

As of late, Redania- or more specifically King Radovid- had been on a craze in these lands, ravaging and absorbing every town and city he could into his empire. Nearly every neighboring nation had been scrambling to fend off the encroaching army but to little avail. Your town must’ve just been unlucky; Just happening to be close enough to the front that your army saw it fit to take over. But with Redanian troops already settling so far inland it looks as though it was all for naught….

Though you found bitterness in your heart from what your country did to you, you found an even worse taste for the Redanians. After all, had they not been so adamant about taking over half the continent, you would not have been kicked out of your home in the first place; you would not have starved, and most important of all, you would not have been cursed to wither away by some unknown witch.

It was needless to say you hated the Redanian army, and your expression showed as much as you looked out on the small troop. They looked like they hadn’t been here long, maybe a week or so at most, but it still looked as though some of the townspeople had fled. The only ones staying behind were those with livelihoods they could not move.

But the only worry on Eskel’s mind now as he looked out at the swath of red was how fresh they all looked. Almost all young faces, still excited and looking well rested… these boys looked like they had hardly fought at all, or if they had, they came in on the tail end of someone else’s win. Boys in troops like this always thought far too highly of themselves; they hadn’t yet seen the brink of death and it made them arrogant. Unfortunately one of them always wanted to test their mettle, and what better test than against a witcher? Arguably the most battle-tested humans around.

“Hm…” Eskel hummed as he scanned the troop, “Let’s just try to get to the tavern and get out… we’ll need provisions before we set up camp for the night.” He stated as he looked at you, smiling a bit as you nodded your approval.

You two had been traveling for a couple of days now. Eskel had become stuck as of late, wracking his brain for solutions to your curse, but something so vague as ‘the executioner’ was beginning to give him pause.

 It was not unheard of for witches to rescind their curses; giving their poor victims the solution they seek, or even lifting it themselves. He wasn’t sure if he could pull off that much, not with someone who seemed to curse at even the slightest provocation, but knowing anything he could about the witch was bound to be of use.

You were hesitant to put it lightly, the last thing you wanted was to see that wretched woman again…. But if there was any chance to get your life back, even just a few more years, you would take it. So there you headed, toward the witch, toward where it all began, and hopefully- toward where it all would end. 

Young soldiers watched and whispered as the two of you rode through town, though thankfully none yet seemed brave enough to bother you. The inside of the tavern was quiet, filled mostly with locals and a few older soldiers, obviously meant to keep the others in line, but they no longer had the energy to care. The interactions were short and sweet, a few day's rations and some small talk for a light pile of gold and a polite manner. It was not until you were outside that trouble once again seemed to find you.

“So you’re the Witcher I’ve been hearin‘ whispers about?  You don’t look like much past a messed up mug,” A young soldier spat, his self-satisfied smile twisted in arrogance, “and cheap company…” he added, eyebrows raised as he looked you up and down and seemed to dare Eskel to do something.

“Oh, you filthy little-“ you grumbled, moving to step forward with fists clenched before Eskel held a hand out to stop you. 

Your angry eyes softened as you looked up at him, though you saw his jaw was just as clenched, forcing himself to brush it off as per usual. Usually, he couldn’t give two shits about what people had to say; ‘mutant’,  ‘freak’, and ‘viper-eyed charlatan’ as he was once called. But he couldn’t deny the way his scars still shamed him to his core. They shouldn’t, he knew that- Geralt and Lambert told him as much, but… but every stare that lingered, every whisper from a crowd had a way of worming themselves into his heart. 

But you were here now. He had more important things to worry about than the way his scars twisted and pulled. Besides, it was nothing he hadn’t thought of himself. 

“Come…. Don’t pay him any mind. We need to get going,” he urged with a small smile, but you could see the strain beneath it.

However, the arrogant soldier didn’t seem to get the message, “What- So now you’re a coward too? Not human or man enough to protect the honor of your bed warmer? Though I’m sure with the right coin and a well-placed hand they’d be happy to-“ The man started, his hand grabbing for your wrist as you tried to continue forth. But the moment his skin graced yours, your witcher's sword was already drawn. 

Cold steel pressed against the young man’s neck, a single line of blood trailing down from the blade’s fine edge. When you finally looked back Eskel’s eyes were no longer the honeyed amber you looked on so fondly- but instead shone like a brisk citrine. Anger-or perhaps possessiveness- simmered beneath his gaze, though his control never faltered. His steel sword stayed steady as the soldier quickly released his grasp, his hands raising with an anxious tremor and he tried to back away. 

“He-hey now, hold on- can’t you take a joke?” He laughed nervously, his voice now feigning a lightness it did not have before. Stumbling backward, away from the blade and the wordless boring eyes of the Witcher before him, he continued, “Hey, wait- stop. Hold on-!” His words spilled out as he fell backward, his hands still raised in a futile effort to fend off his opponent, but the cold steel was never far behind. 

“I give! You won, alright?” He shouted in surrender, but Eskel only shook his head. 

“Do not plead to me-“ he started, looking to you now as he offered you his steel sword, a gentle and assuring nod as he handed it to you, “you’ll plead to them….”

For a moment you looked as confused as the man beneath your sword, your brows drawn down and together as you tried to grasp what he meant. 

Then it hit you. 

‘May you only know mercy when the suppliant lips of the executioner admit to you their devastating defeat.’

What is a soldier if not an executioner? 

Whether of will, of order, or of people- a soldier from an encroaching empire should fit your curses needs perfectly. 

Realization dawned on your face for but a moment before hardening once more. Your usually gentle eyes were now hardened by desperation as you took the sword in both your hands. Its weight was far more than you had imagined, but you held it as steadfast as you had the strength for. 

“You heard him…” you said, trying to sound as firm as the witcher beside you, “I am the one holding the sword now, and I am the one you should be surrendering to….” 

Confusion stained the young man’s face, his nervous gaze glancing between you and your cat-eyed companion as he searched your expressions, “I… I give..? You won...?” He tried his words again, obviously unsure. 

But nothing happened, and the sword was beginning to grow tiresome. You were so so close. You needed this, maybe he just needed to say it again?

“Again.” You ordered. 

“But, I-“ 

“Again” you bristled, your grip on the sword shifting as you held it straight over him now, the lethal tip dangling just inches above his exposed throat. 

“I give! I surrender! I’ve already said it, what more do you want?!” He shouted, his words far less questioning now, but why didn’t it work? 

Why didn’t you feel different..?

“Why…” you started, your breath coming just a bit heavier, “Why isn’t it working…?” You asked, your voice soft with confusion. “Why is it not…” Your arms were beginning to shake as you strained to hold up the weight of the sword, “why aren’t I fixed...?” 

You weren’t sure when the tears had started, you had only realized they came when they began to fall onto the man below. 

Gods, you were so tired, why were you so tired..? Why did your hands ache as though you had built this town yourself…? Why did your head grow heavy as if it was filled with stone…?

But Eskel saw what you couldn’t. He saw the familiar veins of black creeping out from beneath your shirt. Their sickly cursed hands stretching and reaching up your throat and down your arms. But they were moving far too fast now and growing at least a month's worth in mere seconds. “Y/n, wait…”

“Why isn’t it working…?” You simply asked again, lost in your own deafening spiral as you raised the sword with the last of your strength, “I need this to work…” You choked out as your arms finally gave way. 

“No..!” You heard someone yell, unclear of who, as the sword fell heavily down, sheathing itself firmly. Your eyes strained to stay open as strength seemed to leave your body en mass and it was not long before you found your eyes closed, your breath the only thing in your ears. 

Until a hand fell on your shoulder, warm and solid, as someone seemed to be calling your name.

Y/n? Y/n….” Came the low rumbling voice.  Its calmness called out to you as it spoke as if beckoning you back home. It was an invitation you could not deny.

You finally blinked open your eyes, what must’ve been seconds felt like minutes, and below you, you spotted him. The novice soldier, frozen in fear beneath you, as mere inches away the sword stood sheathed in the earth beside his neck.

Eskel watched, knelt before you with one roughened hand on your shoulder while the other- lay cradled close to his chest, a smear of blood flowing from the deep slice down his palm. 

The soldier, upon realizing that he was indeed still living scrambled toward his barracks, leaving the two of you in the lingering dust, and him with a lesson he’d never forget.

“I hurt you…” you stated between heavy breaths, your eyes flicking up to his. “You pushed the blade out of the way…” 

Eskel nodded, his expression twisted into something like shame as he tried to smile and turn his hand away, “I’m sorry… it should have worked,” he started, his voice soft and gentle as he spoke, “but I can’t let you go down a path you don’t need to take… to let you draw blood you don’t need to spill” his hand moved from your shoulder- and for a moment your body grieved its loss. Though just as soon as it left, his palm found its way back to you, cradling your cheek with a love and tenderness you hadn’t felt before. 

Your head grew heavy again as you leaned easily into his touch, that spark of warmth again soothing the ache of your tired muscles for a few brief seconds. 

“Eskel…” you breathed, your eyes fluttering closed again. You were so tired….

“I know, It’s okay…” he assured, his thumb caressing your cheek with tender care, “I’ve got you, Just rest now. We’ll figure it out tomorrow…” his words assuaged as he scooped you up effortlessly. He couldn’t help the way his lips brushed against your head as you settled against him, the action feeling only right as you tucked your face in his neck.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise. I’ll find a way to fix it...”

___________

Witcher Taglist: @writingmysanity @novigrad--dreaming @madamemelancholysstuff @dark-academia-slut @beardedladyqueen

Wanna be added to the Witcher taglist? DM/Ask me to let me know!!

[threadsun]

Ooo, any chronically ill/disabled Nick headcanons you'd like to share? I always love seeing headcanons from communities I'm not a part of, it's just cool to see experiences outside of mine (Tis why I find your Jewish Joseph headcanons so fun)

Ooooh yessss I love talking about Jewseph and chronically ill Nick!!!

So it's not at all uncommon for people with chronic illnesses and disabilities to get into sex work. You tend to be your own boss, so you can take things at your own pace. And if you're on top of things enough, you can make a backlog and queue content so you can take the time to focus on yourself during a flareup

That being said, sometimes Nick has to cancel livestreams because he's feeling too rough to even get set up. Sometimes he'll do a little informal thing from bed on his phone if he's got the energy, but usually he'll just cancel it and sleep

He's got chronic pain and fatigue. The classic trifecta of pots/heds/mcas plus various other symptoms that he doesn't quite know how to fit into his diagnoses

Standing is. Not his thing. He can't do it for very long at a time without getting exhausted and being in lots of pain. He's got a wheelchair he uses whenever he anticipates having to stand/walk a lot

He uses his hypermobility for content sometimes, but he always regrets it when he accidentally fucks up a joint and everything hurts the next day. He still does it again a week later

He sleeps a solid 14 hours a day. Pretty much after every meal, plus whenever he exerts himself too much. Seriously, he's constantly low energy and half asleep if he's not actively sleeping

He's terrible at remembering to take his pills, both in general and at the right times. His pill bottles are scattered around the apartment wherever he last remembered to take them. Someone please get this man a pill organiser

The unfortunate reality of being chronically ill and disabled is that most people around you end up getting compassion fatigue. So whenever people take his health seriously and show him genuine concern and care, it blows his mind. But he's also always half waiting for them to get tired of him being sick and stop caring

Pico and Cheese are informal migraine alert dogs. Nick didn't train them, he just noticed that they tended to start licking his ankles a few minutes before he'd get migraines and he put two and two together. Now whenever they lick his ankles, he takes his migraine meds and finds a quiet, dark, cold place to lay down

He experiences wild temperature fluctuations. His body can't really regulate its own temperature so he's always swapping between being half naked and bundling up in thick sweaters, usually within the span of half an hour or so

He has an uncanny and quite frankly disturbing awareness of his own body. He can feel his blood moving in his veins, he can tell whenever his heart does a natural skipped beat, he can sense exactly where food is in his intestines. It's frustrating and makes his skin crawl, so he always tries to distract himself from it with one thing or another. If he spends too long in silence doing nothing, he starts to be able to hear his own heartbeat and blood and starts getting freaked out

[b00m-b0mb]

do u have lore/a storyline in ur head for wandering karate perchance? i love them a lot :')

AHHH... Wandering Karate, my truest beloved!!!! I do!! But I am rewriting my canon :3c so this is kind of messy and due for a little bit of changing maybe?! Orz !!!!!!!!

UH.. WEOW... cringe...

The basis for a lot of this is a really old fic I wrote for myself that doesn't exist anymore waaa qwqq sorry if this doesn't make sense!

• Joe's family lives in one of the villages Ronin (Wandering Samurai) has rescued.

• Specefically I imagine the one in "Super Samurai Slice", since he leaves unnoticed.. However, Joe saw the whole thing! (Imagine this is some like, 3rd incident lol)

• I like to think Joe would attempt to jump into action and help out (foolishly brave!), but due to being a teensy bit of a clutz he ends up being carried most of the way.

• But he still helped out you know, and like, real danger! Ronin is impressed. And gave compliments where it was due

• Samurai is invited for a drink / some steak and rice. They hang out!! They just chat. I think both of them are a little lonely, and it was just easy to talk. And they did, for hours.

• Joe's inspired by Ronin's skill. Ronin thinks Joe is inspiring for jumping into the situation despite his misteps. Like the desire, but weak energy for skill (Joe, who i project chronic fatigue onto lol), in contrast to the unstopping precise performance, that could fear nothing more than a mistep.

• To me, Joe is a guy who's embarrassed a lot, but he keeps trekking! But hes also frozen still into his current situation, unable to free his wings. While Ronin has light feet when it comes to his embarrassments. And, ofc, cannot let himself stay too long, anywhere! I think due to his nature, he's lonesome and is locked into a endless cycle of self reflection/percieved redemption (over critical)

• Anyways the family comes home. And Ronin's like, ah, I shall go. (Not wanting to be a disturbance) and heads out the door.

• BUT Senior is like "Joe, I need you to pick up my epic gi from -inserts convenient far away comical temple post office-" and Joe, somehow not irritated, and now given a journey, is like 💡‼️ and chases after Ronin.

• He really wants to tag along for just a while. He helped after all! Whats some more time together..? Ronin briefly attempts to decline, before deciding the company wouldn't be a bother... letting Joe come along- call this a ROADTRIP!

• Anyway, the idea was they had two nights of travel / chitchat, with a bit of shenanigans to themselves. Learn about one another. Kind of can see a glimpse into the others perception. And like.. yah... Dudes who want to be friends so bad, everytime they talk there's a silent spark inside both of them bc they're so lonely and a!!!!

• My oc, Karate Maccie, played into my fic uhmm,,, she became the unwanted child tagalong. She's the comic relief pretty much lol!!! but she also is like really trying to set them up as friends you know? She sees these two introverts trying to make it happen. She thinks Joe could use the friend :] She's also just nosey. I know what you are (lonely.)

• More shenanigans & silly adventure for Senior's mail... In the end, Joe and Ronin would have to part ways, but, they would keep touch in letters!!!! Joe being given a post office to write to, and Ronin promising to be there in time to recieve it!

Also I think Maccie + Ronin would have a mini rivalry arc, but it's mostly one sided from Maccie's end lol, and by the end it's somewhat resolved, and Ronin actually offers to train with her or something some time! They all had fun okay! Ugh!!!

I think from there their relationship is just you know, they get each other I guess? They share their thoughts in letters, and are honest and discuss anything and yeahaha... Sometimes a letter is just. "I saw a bird :)" -drawing-, and they get it...!!! they repeatedly will express in their letters how much they truly treasure the others company. Idk man!!! Queer platon guys okay!!!!!

Ronin would definitely make time to come around and visit the village, and Joe would up and leave the house w/o anouncing for mini trips to travel and meet the wandering samurai when hes close to the area!! Skipping practice?! For the samurai he holds dear?! It's serious, you know!!!

But I think the tension takes forever to boil over into melting their boundaries with one another. These dudes need to embrace. So bad. I think. But it's so hard, when you know the lack of it can hurt???? But one day.. I will feel confident enough in both of us, to hold you...??? And know that even when we part, ill see, and hold you again? Wails???

Uhgrhrbrbmammamaaammama 👍👍👍 normal about burnt out souls that are maybe a little mentally ill <33333333 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH ugh,h,m,m,,,,,,

Also they both have a somewhat similar family life in my hcs. Dead mothers, somewhat strained relationship with father, tradition, a clash in how they want to live? Something. They can't be together, but they treasure and hold their shared time dearly, and hold their long distance relationship with nurture :) I lovegh. Them.

Also, food for thought- Bon Odori is also in the village Joe lives in. (And I hc the toss boys are kids in this village, so fourth) maybe Samurai Slice Endless (DS) is there too :] I think he'd do that anywhere needed, but I like the idea of him going from not well known anywhere aside from few legends, to becoming apart of this community because of Joe? Or something? Sobs...??? Sorry idk...

Also I imagine a mini plotline of their relationship regarding the fact Ronin doesn't have a true name + Joe's rise to doing things outside the house ??? Things.. !!!

and and UHHHGGGGGGG rhythm heaven head canon world I missed you.....

[foxys-fantasy-tales]

Writeblr Re-Introduction

I never did this quite right the first time. Get ready, cause this may be a long one. May be oversharing, but hey no character limit and I feel like being super in depth in my soon to be pinned post is on brand. -Ahem-

Hello! You can call me Denise. I use she/her pronouns and I am 32 years old (ancient for Tumblr, I know) with a love for writing fantasy and romance with a lot of dark elements and intrigue. My characters can be messy and sweet and that makes them good to me. I have a lot of bad things happen to my characters, but I like a triumphant tale in the end where at least most people are happy or things turn out alright. I really have fallen for each and every one of my characters and feel the world in general needs some hope in conflict. I am bisexual/biromantic, demisexual/demiromantic, and polyamorous, so a lot of my characters are queer in some fashion. I love writing demi characters and polyam relationships the most so far, though it's taking a bit of build-up to get my first series to that point. My partner (married) is non-binary and I have trans and token cis-het friends and more, so I feel I have a good group helping and reading my books so that my characters come off the page as they should, even if I'm writing a label not my own. I'm also disabled, and in two of my three current projects there is a disabled character present. I only found this out a few years ago, slightly before the pandemic (wooo) and I still have no idea what's causing most of my issues even though doctors have proven something is wrong. I may have an undiagnosable condition with no name yet, so please be patient if I'm not quick to respond or post a lot. I have chronic pain, fatigue, GI issues, and migraines. Going to rattle off some ending facts about myself here. I love playing DnD and have an over two year campaign ongoing right now where I play a sorcerer. I adore cosplaying when I can afford it. I'm addicted to Final Fantasy 14. I still play Pokemon. I have been watching anime since I was about eight years old, which was at the same time I began writing my own stories, so I've been in this for a while now. I hope to always keep improving. I have a BA in English with emphasis in Creative Writing, and though it hasn't served in finding me gainful employment, I hope it helps me in entertaining with my words, which is what I always longed for anyway. All of my works have dark themes, and if you buy my books there will always be a specific trigger warning section in the front so you can make an informed decision. So with that out there, let's talk about my works!

Published Works

Arigale: Spite in the Spirit (Aug. 2021)

Status: Complete and Published

Genres: Epic fantasy, Romance, Action and Adventure Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Around 170k words

(gray morality, friends to lovers, exploring a new world, critique on religious extremes, multiple ships to sail, magic galore and a practical armory, apparently a hot villain, LGBTQIA+ Rep (still building on in book two), found family, humor and at times dark humor, Multiple POV ensemble cast)

Judith and Chit are called to the lonely tower outside their city with little explanation. The one who summoned them is an old, elven wizard named Maleth, who will send them on a quest to lower their floating city of Arigale to where it once resided. Maleth is intrigued by Judith’s strange form of necromantic magic, yet he is also certain of the anxious young man in training to be a spearman and scholar.

Judith, a bubbly yet mysterious young woman, is eager to accept. Chit remains withdrawn and cautious, a remnant of being raised by the Order that presides over their land. Soon, both discover their meeting with the wizard carried dire consequences. Can they accomplish what has been asked of them and save Arigale by exploring the land below, no matter the lengths they must go to?

Available at: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple, Indiebound, and Kobo.

First five chapters are available here on Tumblr for preview! Chapter One - Bonds Chapter Two - Blood Chapter Three - Beseeched Chapter Four - Brazen Chapter Five - Betwixt

I also have a book trailer for this one on Youtube and Tiktok.

Works In Progress

Arigale: Bond in the Blood (WIP)

Aesthetic placeholder for now. The cover is in progress!

(Many of the same tropes as listed above, but more darkness and trauma themes than book one had. Another added romance that is friends to lovers to enemies to ??? You'll have to read to find out!)

Status: Drafting (60%)

Genres: Epic fantasy, Romance, Action and Adventure Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Not yet complete - Coming 2023

Judith and Chit's journey across the seas to Galavarn was not as smooth as they had hoped for. The standard of living here is much different than what they encountered on the mainland, and the newfound bond between them will be tested. Enigmas run rampant here, along with a woman from Maleth’s past who claims to hold the key to defeating them for good. Unfortunately, this woman has an unruly and strangely apathetic nature to her, along with a profound hatred toward their distant companion on Arigale. 

Meanwhile, back on the mainland, those left behind must bear their own struggles as a stranger appears and insists on taking one of their number with him. This man with red, sunken eyes bears a sharp grudge against Stemoss and worse obligations to a certain deity. 

Secrets of the past will come to light on this desolate isle, and the friends left behind will struggle to not become a cog in a plan devised long before they were even born.

Made to Taste (WIP)

Made this placeholder cover in Canva, may or may not be final

(critique of racial relations and capitalism, LGBTQIA+ Rep, monsters and mayhem, dark boy and maybe not sunshine but optimistic girl, meet cute, Terrible CEO villains, small business owning woman protag, magical races in modern day, first kiss, ferris wheels, cute confessions and fluffy moments mixed with helping one another during awful ordeals, they were roommates)

Status: Possible series in the works. Book one draft is complete and editing begins soon. Book two draft in progress as well.

Genres: Urban fantasy, Romance, Paranormal Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Not yet complete - Book One possible in 2023

When Lyra Morley accepted a rough and tumble new hire from her bar, she didn't think he would end up her new roommate in a week. Noel Akatash brings his own debts, and the people holding the accounts aren't to be trifled with. Magical home invasions aside, Lyra is more worried about her business serving the city nightlife any food she can handle all made to order.

Cooking with a halfbreed's sense of smell comes with its perks, and one of them is that she can hide her skills in the kitchen so no one is any wiser about her true nature. The night-only diner called Made to Taste is meant to be a haven for those the city would rather keep buried. Lyra, the pacifist and abstinent dhampir, would fight to keep it safe. Good thing Noel knows a thing or two about being scrappy.

Dream Escape (WIP)

Another aesthetic placeholder for now, but I have a cover in mind

(dreams vs reality, learning to cope, TW: suicidal themes are major part of this book, disenchantment, finding your purpose, joy in the little things is better than no joy at all, painting and artistry used to convey these themes, portal/dreamscape fantasy, Alice in Wonderland vibes, enemies to friends to lovers) Status: Plotting stage

Genres: Urban fantasy, Romance, Drama Audience: Adult, maybe YA Length: Not yet complete - No determined release YET - Standalone novel around 80k words

Emma Reed, 26, has a Master of the Arts and no place to put it but in her desk drawer. Once proud of her accomplishment, the lights quickly dimmed when she ended up living back in her old childhood bedroom at her parents place and flat broke. Helping Adrien with graphics for their streaming or Sarah with banners for her pet business is all well and good, but it's not at all how she imagined scrapping by. When her newest piece is rejected from the gallery she had finally convinced to give her a chance, Emma hits a downward spiral.

When she awakens, she finds herself in a strange new world with a strange man hovering around her. He calls himself Jasper, a dream painter, and quickly proves his prowess at sculpting others' dreams. Emma was in his care, but though he's petitioned her to wake up, she can't. Neither knows how she ended up in this place, but surrounded by the dreams of others quite literally brought to life around her, Emma makes the decision to stay.

Jasper won't let her. For one, if she stays there is no telling how badly that could go for her, or for his hopes of a promotion. Emma goes along with his plan to cart her across this new place, more as a sightseeing tour than the arduous task he finds it to be. Along the way, a bit of the light comes back into her eyes, and he can't help but remember how bright they both used to shine. Dulled and muddied palettes that they both became, can they start over?

Links & Socials

Find out all the info you need for Arigale, with pages for my other works upcoming when they are closer to release dates at my website.

You can support me with my illness and with saving for promotion, editing, and artwork for my writing over on Ko-Fi.

You can also find me being a struggling writer, but also a huge geek who loves DnD, anime, cosplay, RPGs, Otome, and more here on Tumblr and over on my other socials at Twitter, Tiktok, and sporadically on Instagram.

My Tags

I haven't been great at using these, but I'm going to try and be better.

#Arigale - for anything related to my Arigale series

#Made to Taste - for anything related to Made to Taste series

#Dream Escape - for anything related to my standalone titled such

#Writer Woes - for rants or jokes about how hard this can be

#Writer Advice - to take with a grain of salt please

#Mental Mess - when I have a bad mental health day

#Physical Mess - when I have a bad physical health day

#Free Commentary - When I reblog with additions in tags

And I'll of course be using #Writeblr #Booklr and other necessary tags as well when called for.

[fizziepopangel]

Rest For The Wicked

* Author's note: I am chronically ill and I've been feeling like shit lately so this fic took so much longer than I thought it would, and it's not as good as I had hoped, but I am my own worst critic so I hope everyone else enjoys it.

P.s. If you have something you would like to request you can always make a request with the Fic Request Form

Husk stood behind the bar, a glass of whiskey resting on the counter beside him as he watched the other residents of the hotel mill around the common area. A yawn escaped his lips as he stared lazily into the common room where Charlie was droning on and on about trust or apologies or boundaries or some other redemption bullshit.

Fuck, I hate this shit. He thought with another yawn as he watched Niffty scurry around after a bug. That girl’s put more holes in the floor and the walls stabbing at those things than she’s put in the bugs. Why do we even let that little psycho run around with anything sharp in the first place?

He let out another yawn and took a swig of whiskey. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten a good night’s sleep. He had been an insomniac for as long as he could remember, but his inability to sleep had worsened since he and Angel had become a thing…. He wanted to sleep after a long day of manning the bar and participating in all of Charlie’s redemption activities, but Angel wanted to go out dancing and blow off steam after a long day of redemption training and dealing with Valentino in the studio… And Husk didn’t think it was his place to say no. He knew he didn’t have much going for him. He was old, he was a gambler and a drunk, and honestly he didn’t see anything attractive about himself, so he figured it would be unwise to disagree or use the word ‘no’ too often once he found himself with a man he already felt he didn’t deserve…. But the lack of sleep and constantly forcing himself to be on the go was starting to take a toll on the hell cat; he could tell the second it began, but his motto always was that there no rest for the wicked and he always claimed that it was the motto of hell itself, even in Charlie’s hotel of ‘healing’.

First it was just a dull ache in his lower back; too much time on his feet at the bar… He figured he could handle it, maybe just pop a couple ibuprofen with his whiskey before work, but over the next few days it just seemed to be one thing after another piling up. Headaches, back aches, and overall fatigue, it all just kinda began to weigh on him heavier and heavier until it seemed like he was ready to crumble beneath this invisible force that no one but him could see.

Husk did his best to ignore it. He really did. He popped ibuprofen, pulled a barstool behind the bar to try to sit whenever he had a chance, even sipping water every so often in a feeble attempt to reverse whatever the fuck had been happening to him… But the stress proved to be too much for the old bar cat, and eventually everything that seemed to be building up would finally seem to break him.

And that is how his boyfriend found him when he came down to swipe a bottle of booze off the shelf after a long day of filming with Valentino; sitting behind the bar at the end of his shift, his body curled up in a ball as he rubbed his temples and tried to keep the tears at bay.

“Husk? Babe, what are you doin’?” Angel said, his voice just above a whisper as he peered over the bar at the hell cat he had come to love. There was concern written across his features, but he stayed where he was… He loved the feline demon in front of him, but it was late and he was tired, and honestly he didn’t know how Husk would react to him having walked in on this seemingly intimate moment since they had only really been dating for a couple of months.

Husk sat there, his wings moving to shelter him in a sort of passive show of defensiveness at his boyfriend's voice. “I…’m fine.” Husk mumbled out, his breath coming out in a sort of shaky sigh that just didn’t sit right with Angel.

All of the tiredness and annoyance from his own day faded away, taking his fear of overstepping with it as Angel found himself hopping behind the bar and kneeling beside the usually stoic bartender. “You don’t sound too fine.” He sling an arm around his boyfriend. “Ya know I won’t judge you or nothin’ if you aren’t fine…. You never judged me.” Angel gently bumps the other demon’s shoulder and gives him a soft smile. “That’s why I love ya.”

Husk chuckles through his pain and exhaustion. “Yeah? That the only reason?”

“Nah, there’s a couple of other things I like too.” He smirks. “Now what’s goin’ on, kitten?”

“I’m just…. “ Husk let out a long sigh. “I’m just… tired. That’s all.”

Angel looked Husk up and down. There was something about the dark bags beneath his eyes as he said that made Angel’s heart ache. He tried to think about it and in all honesty, he couldn’t really remember the last time he had seen the bartender sit down for more than a moment, or the last time he had seen him eat a decent meal or drink anything other than whiskey. 

Gently, Angel leaned in and kissed Husk’s forehead. “How about we get you up off the floor and go back to my place tonight? I’ll run you a bath.” Angel smirked flirtatiously. “Maybe I’ll join ya; find a way to help you… relax.”

Angel smiled as his boyfriend let out a dry chuckle. “Don’t know if I’m up for that tonight.”

Giving him an affectionate nuzzle, the spider demon smirked. “Fine. Maybe we could just cuddle or somethin’?” 

“That’s gay.” Husk mumbled, sniffling slightly.

Slowly, the pair made their way to Angel’s room, moving at the turtle-like pace Husk set. Despite Husk grumbling about feeling old and hating how shitty he felt, Angel couldn’t help but feel an almost overwhelming sense of love for the grumpy drunk…. Though as he helped the other man into his room, part of him was a little upset  that Husk had let himself burn out this badly.

“Why ain’t we goin’ to my room?” Husk grumbled, pulling Angel from his thoughts as he pulled him into the room and helped him ease onto the bed. Fat Nuggets immediately climbed up on the bed and nuzzled into Husk’s side, snorting softly. Despite himself, the tired drunk grinned softly as he gave the little demon hog a pat. “Hey there, Fat Nuggets.”

Angel smiled as he watched Husk drop his rather tough exterior to pet his little piggy pal. He always loved the relationship Husk had with the little creature, and he knew that Fat Nuggets truly enjoyed the time he got to spend with Husk. It made his heart smile. 

Shaking the thought from his head, Angel walked over and placed a soft kiss on his pig’s head before looking at his boyfriend. “I’ll get that bath goin’, then we can–”

“Nah.”Husk mumbled, shaking his head for a moment before stopping when he realized that the motion made him dizzy in the exhausted state he was in, and that dizziness made him nauseous. “No, just…. I just need to sleep.”

A soft sad look seemed to settle on Angel’s face. Husk looked like he needed a lot more than just sleep… And as he looked him over, he felt bad considering that Husk always seemed to look after him and his well being.He wasn’t sure how he had missed the signs of his partner getting so overworked; he saw the man every single day, this should’ve been something he noticed way before it got to the point of finding him crying on the floor of the bar the way he had.

“How ‘bout we get ready for bed then?” Angel suggested softly, reaching over to gently rub Husk’s back. Husk let out a soft, contented hum, his eyes already growing heavy as his body teetered on the bed. He didn’t argue as Angel moved Fat Nuggets aside and gently easing his boyfriend down against the bed. “Tomorrow we’ll spend the day in bed; we’ll watch some of those stupid magic shows you like on VoxTube and order junk food, maybe even sneak some booze from the bar.”

Angel’s soft words fell into the air, covered by his boyfriend’s snores. He didn’t mind though; this was the most peaceful he had ever seen the soul of his partner. He sighed, grabbing the blanket and pulling it over them both and kissing Husk’s temple. “Goodnight, kitten.”

He lay down, but Angel didn’t sleep. No, he lay awake, his hands slowly stroking through Husk’s hair as he listened to him snore and purr through the night. Despite everything that had happened at work that day, he felt at peace knowing that he could hear Husk’s soft breathing as he finally slept; knowing that despite the hell the other man put himself through, that he felt at peace when he was with him, and that in times like this he could take care of Husk in the same way Husk took care of him.

[practically-an-x-man]

Which of your OCs has the most traumatic backstory, and why?

Oh man, now THAT'S a tough question... let's round up a few of the top competitors, and you can decide which is the most traumatic:

Ophelia: Grew up in a stable household with a loving family, but was forced to watch nearly every single member of that family die in a series of superpowered events. First it was Norman, who she viewed as an uncle or perhaps even a third parent in her life. Then it was her mother, then her father, then the man she saw as her brother. She got herself through college and graduate school but failed to maintain a healthy social life as she became utterly absorbed by her work. Her attempts at romance all failed due to her lack of emotional vulnerability and work/life balance, and the one partner she thought she'd stay with was killed in her sleep by a supervillain. Finally, she was killed in a laboratory explosion, and sent into the multiverse without knowing whether or not she would survive upon returning.

Gia: Watched her younger sister die of childhood leukemia. Entered a medical study hoping to prevent future cases of childhood cancer, which turned out to be a front for HYDRA. Was imprisoned and experimented on by HYDRA, had her life force irreversibly bound to a patch of clover, had her leg cut off, and was trained to be a supersoldier. Most of this was so traumatic that she doesn't even remember it. Came out of HYDRA incredibly traumatized and depressed, and had to pry herself out of that entirely on her own as she couldn't bear to come clean to her family.

Quinn: Was disowned by her parents after coming out as transgender, had to drop out of college due to losing their financial support, ended up at her lowest in an alleyway. Joined a parkour/thieving crew, met her best friend and love of her life while he was dating another woman, that other woman grew jealous and dropped them both off a twelve-story building during a botched mission. Sustained damage to her legs, pelvis, lumbar vertebrae, and brain in the fall, now lives with mobility issues, chronic fatigue, and hallucinations. Also had to recover on her own, all while believing her lover had died in the fall.

Eris: Was treated as a monster by others on Themyscira after his violent streak first showed itself. Was deemed a harbinger of strife and violence rather than being given support for their issues, was cold-shouldered from their family and everyone else around them, while those others refused to even use her given name. Eventually left, and spent close to a thousand years wandering the Earth, always following the biggest wars and battles. Had to watch each of their rare friends and even rarer lovers die as his regeneration kept him alive for hundreds of years.

Nikoletta: Grew up impoverished in New Orleans, though it was a reasonably stable life until her father passed away when she was a teenager. Left alone, she began running a voodoo scam for gullible tourists to keep herself afloat as she got herself through high school. After continuing this scam into her adulthood, she was captured by STAR Labs and infused with liquid shadows through a series of painful treatments. After a month in the lab, she returned to the streets, only to be captured and sent to Belle Reve for superpower-assisted B&E in multiple houses. She escaped once, but it was only a matter of months before she was captured again, this time for "disfiguring" several civilians with her shadow-touch. From there, she spent 15 years in prison, crafting an icy and reclusive persona known as the Queen of Belle Reve as a means of keeping herself safe.

Vivienne: Met her first husband, a sea captain, while he was at port between trips. Due to the nature of romance during her time period, it wasn't until after marriage that she discovered that he was a coarse, unfaithful, and abusive man, and she could not divorce him due to societal taboo and a lack of evidence for that abuse. He taught her to sail and often took her with him (as an extra crewmate that he wouldn't have to pay) on his ventures. While at port one night, she discovered him cheating on her with multiple other women, and intended to confront him the following morning. Instead, her husband waited until they were far out at sea, then tossed her overboard and left her to drown. Instead, Poseidon took pity on it, and turned it into a siren in exchange for never again giving its heart to a captain of the sea. This in itself becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy - while it does find love and marry another sailor, this one man who loves her and treats her right, he dies before he officially becomes the captain of his ship.