#damn... grief really isn't something you ever get over

[modern-alebrije]

that last post reminded me that last week i wad thinking a lot about my grandma, and how her last words to me had been through the phone over thousands of miles apart. she'd been intubated, and i couldn't understand anything she said. i was 10 going on 11, and we'd been in the US for a few years by then, so when we spoke for that last time, it'd been a few years since we'd been in the same room together.

and so i kept thinking about how i never got the chance to get know her as an adult person, just as my grandma. everything new i've learned about her since has been through the people in my life who knew her. when i got my promotion at work, when i went to kansas for a work conference, i wish i could've told her about it.

i remember lying to her, that last time we spoke on the phone, saying "yes grandma" as if i knew what she was saying. i can't remember what her voice sounded like anymore. the last thing i ever said to her was how much i loved her.

[calliesmemes]

ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“   Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“   Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“   Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“  They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“   Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“   Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“   Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“   What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“   I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“   I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“   I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“   The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“   Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“   If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“   I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“   My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“   There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“   You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“   I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“   I really do hate thinking. ”

“   In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“   I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“   Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“   Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“   So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“   Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“   The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“   Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“   The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“   I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“   Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“   What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“   Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“   RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“   My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“   It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“   Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“   How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“   I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“   You look so biteable today. ”

“   Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“   I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“   Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“   Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“   Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“   Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“   I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“   Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“   I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“   Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“   I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“   Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“   You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“   You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“   It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“   Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“   No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“   No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“   I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“   Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“   Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“   I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“   Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“   I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“   Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“   Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“   Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“   May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“   I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“   You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“   Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“   Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“   All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“   How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“   What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“   I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“   Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“   Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“   I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“   Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“   I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“   You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“   Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“   Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“   I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“   If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“   Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“   Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“   I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“   Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

[ffsg0jo]

tw: grief, death, illness, and angst - i wrote this in like half an hour and i was really in my feels, so pls excuse me if it's bad

uncle sukuna, who's been in and out of jail, is always seemingly in trouble with the law and couldn't give two shits about it. ever since leaving home and his twin brother behind, he's only lived for himself and himself only. he'd be damned if he lets anyone change that.

he receives a voicemail from his brother one day, telling him he's had a little baby boy called yuuji. jin wants to put everything in the past behind them and would love for his brother to meet his precious son. sukuna only scoffs and deletes the voicemail almost immediately.

it's only when jin texts him a video of yuuji (who he's surprised to see almost looks exactly like him, minus all the tattoos) 8 months later babbling what could be interpreted as "papa", does he falter. the kid's adorable, but sukuna isn't ready to face his brother just yet.

many more months go by, and jin seems to have taken the hint. except he gets sent another video, this time on his birthday. he clicks on the video, unable to resist and its yuuji, wobbling on two legs, clapping his hands, and singing his own version of happy birthday (??). he's gotten so much bigger and looks so much like his father.

the only word sukuna recognises from yuujis incoherent nonsense is 'kuna', and his heart softens. he messages back a "cute." and leaves it at that. jin sees the message and doesn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

jin messages him again a week later, only this time sukuna's heart drops. kaori's dead, and her funeral's next week. he's only met her twice, but she was good for his brother, and she was always good to him too.

he sees his brother for the first time in years at the funeral. jin's hair is a mess, his face unshaven and sunken in; grief seemed to have aged him 10 more years. sukuna's many things, a bad brother included, but something in him breaks when he sees yuuji screaming in his father's arms, not understanding where his mum's gone.

he doesn't know why, but he walks up to jin and offers to take yuuji instead. the toddler immediately calms down in his hold, now more confused as to why there's a man that looks exactly like his dad but with sharpie all over him. jin breaks down, stammering out a thank you, and excuses himself, leaving sukuna alone with his nephew. he'll hunt down his brother later, but for now, he'll keep the brat occupied so his dad can grieve.

sukuna hears from his dad that jin's fallen ill months later. he's speaks to his brother more often now and has even met up with both him and yuuji a couple of times. but jin's never mentioned being sick. he's been looking worse, for sure, but he just put it down to being a single father to an energetic toddler.

he moves in with them the next week. jin keeps getting worse and even little yuuji's noticed.

sukuna tries his best. he really does. he's not been there for jin previously, but he makes sure he's there now when it matters. it's all new to him, caring for people. he tries to cook the most nutritious meals for jin, making sure they're yuuji friendly too. he makes sure the house is always clean, even though yuuji's making a mess every 10 minutes. he changes diapers (both yuuji's and jin's), bathes them both, and tucks them both into bed. he even reads yuuji a bedtime story just to maintain normacly even though he hasnt read since he was a child.

he checks up on jin, constantly seeing if he's feeling okay and gives him his medicine. he holds onto jin with the utmost care (almost carrying him) when they go to visit kaori's grave or when yuuji insists on both of them coming to the park with him. when jin can't sleep at night due to being in excruciating pain, he's there. by his side and holding him. he's never been this affectionate, but he's also never had a dying brother before.

it's still not enough, though. the last couple of days were the hardest, and even yuuji knew enough to be on his best behaviour.

sukuna silently sobs into his pillow at night, when the whole world's asleep. he's filled with regret and hatred for himself, but he knows it's too late now. he tells his brother he loves him and that he promises to take care of yuuji no matter what. jin only smiles, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and tries to kiss his cheek as a thank you, and i love you too.

jin died with one arm holding yuuji, the other holding sukuna's, and his wife's name on his tongue.

sukuna was left all alone, once again. except this time, he had no brother to give yuuji back to. as he promised jin, the stars as his witness, he'd do anything for yuuji and to keep him safe.

his life was no longer his own. he had his nephew to think about.

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

obsessed with the idea of seelie faerie prince gojou, as charming and as tricksy as all fae are. his snow-white hair eye catching and his azure eyes like gems pressed into his flesh

seelie prince satoru whose very birth shook faerieland as foretold by the stars red, blue and purple stars that soared through the sky the night of his birth

seelie prince satoru who is much more observant than his penchant for revels and merrymaking belies

seelie prince satoru who relishes in obnoxiously getting under the skin of the gentry of his court with his radical ideas that challenge the traditions that have been established for centuries

seelie prince satoru whose court is filled with political strife between three major families- the gojou, zenin and kamo. and it's really just his look this particular luck that he's bleeding out after a particularly harrowing attempt on his life. must have been that petty bastard naoya but in this particular moment, numb from poison and with a bloodied torso it really isn't going to do him any good trying to figure out who sent the now dead assassin after him

he won't die from this, he's been developing an immunity to poison. but even so, this is tough on his body as he sits in a misty forest waiting for the poison to wear off on his body with the scent of iron strong in the air

that's when he sees something that any faerie would consider the worst omen ー he sees you.

faeries are immortal folk. unless someone goes out of their way to kill them, they never die. it's what makes them stronger, far further creatures than humans with their insect-length lifespans

seelie prince satoru who even with his eyes, it's difficult seeing you clearly with poison muddling his senses but he sees the tell-tell white hair and gray skin and he knows you're a banshee

seelie prince satoru who chuckles humorlessly as he accepts that apparently, his luck has run out

he's sure of this as you slowly come closer and closer until he sees you much more clearly. your eyes are bloodshot, as to be expected of your kind. but your eyes might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. they're a pale lilac and your pupils are a ghostly white, shockingly light against the reds of your eyes but even that looks beautiful. he never cared particularly for the color red before but in this moment he can understand why red caps crave the color so and satoru thinks that if he is going to hear those damning cries that will seal his fate in this instant, he's glad it's you

banshees were human women that died in grief, right? that died tragedy before the grace of the gods turned them fae. death is a beautiful look on you but he wonders what you'd look if you were still colored in the shades of life that once blossomed over you like spring blooms

and so you part your lips... but rather than wail and scream, announcing to the headless riders of faerie that death is near, death is coming for gojou satoru your eyebrows knit in worry and you ask

"are you alright?" as you kneel by his side, reaching for his wounds carefully. your voice is honestly akin to hearing birdsong in the night, a juxtaposition he wasn't prepared for. "here, let me help you"

apparently the seelie prince's luck is greater still. death won't come for him yet. instead, he's become a hypocrite. an unintelligent hypocrite but he can't quite seem to make himself care in this instance when he is tended to by your cold but gentle touch and your lark-like voice drips like honey from your lips.

whether it's folk or mortal, satoru likens love to a curse that makes those around him stupid. a curse that leads to betrayals, war and frankly too much strife he desires to deal with

yet in this moment, that very curse seemed to course through his veins

stupid is as stupid does, seelie prince satoru's lips part and he asks you as if enraptured in a spell "please marry me and i'll love you more faithfully than any man, fae or otherwise"

as for you... you're simply a banshee who just happened to be in this forest when you spotted an injured elf in the distance and decided to see if he'd accept your help if he didn't outright lose his mind in fear at the sight of you. you think he might have considering the words that left his mouth

it must be the blood loss talking

unfortunately for you and much to the aggravation of suguru and kento, seelie prince satoru's most trusted advisors, satoru was very much serious and fervently keeps referring to you as his future queen when you haven't even accepted the proposal

seelie prince satoru who insists you stay in his palace, at the very least until after a revel in a few moons time he wishes to throw in your honor. as thanks for treating his injuries which are still healing, might he add. anything could happen, what if a banshee needs to herald his death and one isn't around? he would also like the time to woo you over. please? just until then

seelie prince satoru who ignores the ardent whispers that it is bad luck for a banshee to be so close the prince. that insist that death fae are like roaches. surely if one appears, there will be more banshee and dullahan that follow

seelie prince satoru who coldly states that any such insult toward the woman who saved his life will find those who said them hearing the chilling cries they so fear sooner than they'd enjoy

[l-in-the-light]

The most embarrassing series of posts about Lawlu you will ever read: edition Punk Hazard (part 1)

Love is a hurricane! That's why let me tell you a tale:

It started with the whales of fate that brought Luffy and Law together on an island that's hidden away from the world. Whales are cheering for their reunion!

Luffy apparently always wanted to be a centaur and is just so excited about it. From this point on I'm adding occassional extra quotes and comments to the pictures to make the tale better to read, just warning ;D

Law learns about the Strawhats and is already worried. And he didn't even see them yet! This marks his downfall into an endless spiral of worrying for Luffy from now on.

He doesn't even try to deny that. Yes, he did help him escape. No, he's not gonna go and regret it, even if from that moment on he heard it like hundred of times already and each time he just goes silent. Hey, it's not your business why I saved Mugiwara-ya, so buzz off!

Law: I actually won't, but whatever, just get out of here, White Chase-ya. Or things will get even more complicated and I want to avoid that at all costs.

Law: What's that commotion?

Law: Now you've come and made a commotion, are you proud of yourselves, Strawhats?? Ugh, rude to accuse me of locking up the kids! But they're not entirely wrong. Even if I didn't know about the kids, I was here with them all this time and didn't help them. I hate this.

Law: And here we go with the worst case scenario. Things can never go easy for me, can they?

Hawkins was right, Law is a quick thinker, lol. That's a really quick thought process there.

Luffy, you're literally killing me with your excitement to see Law.

Yes, Luffy couldn't repeat Law's name properly and came up with a nickname instead, but can we focus on something else here? For example on the fact that he actually attempted to address Law with his full name from the get-go? Luffy never does that! The amount of respect here is overwhelming. Regretfully, Traffy's name is too difficult for Luffy, and I bet he's thinking something along those lines:

Luffy: Ugh, why do you have such a difficult name?! I want to call you properly but I can't! Wait, didn't he have that fun way of addressing people? Like he added something after a name, it was kinda odd but also really cool? What was it... something short... oh well, I will just invent something similar to that! His name started with Tora, so let's just add "guy" to it, so Torao! I want to be as cool as you!

And from that day on, every new guy Luffy meets gets to be called the same way. Gizao, Yamao... if this isn't Luffy trying to mimick Law's "ya" then I don't know what this is. Law addresses everyone with "ya", so Luffy addresses now everyone with "o". They're a match made in hell, I swear. Luffy trying to be like Law is also infinitely cute and funny to me.

I'm gonna puke, it's too cute.

And so the flashback starts, replaying their previous encounters in Law's head, lol.

I think Robin would call Law tasteless as well.

Yeah what's up with Luffy being so damn excited to see you. It's almost like he's lovestruck.

Law: Fuck, it didn't work. How many more times are you gonna thank me?! And you didn't lose your smile after your brother's death... or are you actually hiding sadness under it?...

This is like the most complicated expression Law ever showed in the manga. Luffy's smile here is making him feel things, many many things. His sad conflicted expression creates such a deep contrast to Luffy's beaming smile.

I'm pretty sure Luffy is smiling so brightly here not only to show his obvious excitement, but also to communicate to Law that "I'm fine now, you don't have to worry about me!". After all Law saw him at his lowest. I don't think Luffy's truly fine and over his brother's death and I also don't think Law is actually buying it either. Grief like that doesn't go away after merely 2 years, after all.

He already knows what Luffy wants to ask him about. Communication without words again, between those two. Gross. Cute.

He already decided what he will do. That means ever since he heard about Luffy landing on the island, he knew he wouldn't go against him, but try his best to keep him away from danger instead.

Luffy: He must be so strong!!!

Luffy being so easily impressed with Law never gets boring to me. Brook observing it all with a cute smile of a parent watching their child having their first crush is also kinda super duper cute.

Yes Luffy, brag even more. God, he's so embarrassingly obvious. He likes Torao so damn much.

Luffy can also be a very awful person sometimes lol.

Law (probably): Really? Was that so important? Couldn't you wait? Or just stay like that forever or something.

They're actually both awful people sometimes.

Again, he never denies his connection to Luffy. It would be beneficial for him to do so, to come up with some excuse that would make people stop doubting him all the time, and yet he never does. Never ever. Seems someone just can't bear the thought of denying that, because it's just that important to him.

So what he does instead is saying a (poorly camouflaged) compliment towards the Strawhats lol. "You underestimate them, they're tough". I mean, thanks Law? That's kinda nice of you.

Law (thinking): Joke's on you, that's exactly what I'm gonna do. I came here just to make a mess by destroying SAD. And that's the only reason why I needed the warlord's status.

Law (thinking): We're enemies from now on, as soon as I get out of this room.

Law (thinking): I actually did, yeah. You're welcome.

Funny how he didn't even attempt to propose to Luffy to just work under him. He's going straight to the option of "You wouldn't serve others so I won't even propose that". Despite the fact that later on Law is ordering Smoker around, and Smoker is also "not the type to serve people like pirates". Luffy is getting special treatment here. Favouritism! Do you respect Luffy that much, Law?

He looks freaking happy to propose that alliance lol. Do you think it will be actually fun, Trafalgar Law?! Just moments ago you thought Luffy is making too much commotion, but now you already love the idea to see him cause even more of it. Did you already forget how much worry you felt when you first heard from Smoker that Luffy is on the island?! Do you think you can keep him out of the trouble? Where's this overconfidence even coming from? Oh right, because Luffy is staring at you like you're the best person to ever exist in the world, that's probably why.

And Luffy looks like Christmas arrived faster suddenly. And of course he does, his favourite Law is proposing him to adventure together! He wants to be friends and spend time kicking asses. Sounds like a perfect date idea for him. This is probably the first time anyone proposed something that awesome to him lol. They just share the same vibe here honestly. This will of course mark the beginning of Law's neverending suffering and worrying over Luffy.

Those two are insufferable together. And you might think I'm writing a fanfiction here, but nah, this is all canon, you just have to wear the right lens to see it. Their love doesn't have to be romantic in nature, but it's still love none the less. Luffy clearly found his most favourite person in the world in Law, and Law seems to be unusually attached to him as well. I'm getting second-hand embarrassment just looking at them here, and this is only the start lol. Also their reunion in Punk Hazard had like 4-5 pages long coverage, it felt like something out of shojo-manga instead of shonen. Oda never did anything like that before, why the extra focus, you should totally be asking that question.

Hope you enjoyed so far :D and remember, love is a hurricane!

[jakes3resin]

Honestly so intrigued by the idea of a role swap between Bucky and Gale when it comes to who took the London weekend pass and who got shot down first.

Gale convinces Harding to give both of them a weekend pass thinking that's the only way to convince Bucky to take a break, paint the town red in London until Bucky starts to feel better, but Bucky says no like Gale did. Gale still goes because he needs a break from missions, from base life, and, as much as he hates to admit it, from Bucky himself right now.

Bucky goes up like Gale did, and Bucky doesn't come back like Gale did.

Gale has a calmer time in London than Bucky, but he still sees the headlines about the 8th and the lost 30 bombers. The panic that runs through him would probably mirror the panic Bucky felt. The urgent need to know what happened, thoughts spinning as he tells himself that Bucky wasn't one of the men the papers say got shot down.

Gale's widow arc after escaping was characterized by desperation, a quiet bone deep desperation tinged by Gale's guilt at leaving Bucky behind. The pain that Bucky gave up his chance at freedom for him cut deep into him. There was some rage during the escape, but once he got to England, you could tell Gale's strings had been cut. His rage melted into grief and desperation. He held white knuckled to the hope, the delusion even, that Bucky was fine, he's always fine, he just had to stay for the men.

His grief after learning Bucky went down in a role swap would be closer to rage, I think. Rage at the Germans sure, but rage at Bucky mostly. Gale tried to get him to London, damn near begged him to come with him because he knew something was going to happen if he didn't get Bucky out of that cockpit.

Of course, the anger is just so he can hide how much Bucky's 'death' is killing him. He's good at hiding his emotions by slipping on a mask and burying them deep within himself, but everyone can see he isn't doing well. The grief and rage are just too much. Gale's slipping, and without Bucky, no one knows how to help him. This isn't the Major Cleven they know. This is the Buck without his namesake that none of them ever expected to see.

Gale would do as Bucky did. Leave London and demand that he be placed on the next possible mission. The pair are a bit too similar sometimes, and he'd want back in the saddle before he processed his emotions. He's back on base when everyone knows Harding didn't call him in from London. He's standing silently at the bar, not ordering a thing simply there because he's still so used to his routine with Bucky that nowhere else feels right. At least here he's with the men. At least here he can pretend Bucky's asking the bartender to fill up his flask. At least here he can be haunted.

No one knows how to handle Buck like this. They've never seen Buck like this with his emotions so volatile as his mask slips. Benny tries to talk to him, but Gale shrugs him off. Jack and Red both try to talk to him, but Gale simply asks when the briefing is. No one can get through to him.

Gale leaves behind Bucky's lucky deuce. He'd carried it for Bucky's sake, and now there's no Bucky to worry.

Oh but what if that's where the role swap ends? Buck still ends up at Stalag Luft III before Bucky, and it's the final nail in Bucky's coffin for Buck. Bucky isn't here. Gale's lost any hope he'd gained seeing Brady and Crank waiting at the fence. Even when Brady swears Bucky bailed before him, he grieves.

Everyone's sure that they're going to lose Gale now. You need strength and at least some measure of hope or fight to survive the camp, and Gale has none of that. He really did think that they'd be the last two left in the air when all of this was over. That dream doesn't matter when he's the only one left. He lost everything when Bucky went down.

Two days later, Bucky walks through the fence, and the heart that stopped beating in Gale's chest back in London finally starts up. Hope returns, and with it, his will to see both of them through this.

[felswritingfire]

Homelander x Chaotic! Hyper Fem!Reader

The Homelander brainrot is real and I hate it with my whole being. I want this man dead, he's so pathetic. Anyway, I haven't watched The Boys but I'm hooked on his character thanks to falling down the rabbit hole with Character.Ai and all the talented writers for The Boys fandom, like? Absolutely scrumptious works. Also I just really wanted to write for a chaotic reader, the hyper fem part came after lmao

TW: This was written with a AFAB reader in mind so there's descriptions of Reader wearing a skirt, no pronouns specified; Homelander's creepiness is considerably toned down for this, but he does break into reader's apartment and actively stalks them; Reader says some saucy stuff; Cussing; Homelander has a panic attack/mental break down; Reader is a horny virgin; Age Gap, it's only mentioned once or twice, but it's still there and prevalent; Gen Z humor- reader is a Gen Z baby, they're in their early 20s

"You didn't tell me that Homelander had a slutty ass waist." The words caught him off guard. They were whispered. Somewhere in the crowd. His eyes fought to stay glued onto the press speaker, his smile twitching ever so slightly.  The comment had hung in his head, floating around like a phantom, even as he took the stage and did his speech perfectly. Like always. He preens as the people clap and cheer for him.  Then the voice chirps out, in the safety of the cheering and the noise: "Homelander? More like Sluttylander, am I right?" He hears a scoff after that, zeroing in on the conversation now: two women. No older than their mid 20s. "Hey, I mean that respectfully." "You know he's like 20 years older than you, right?" "I'll bend him over and make him call me daddy. I'm not a coward." A cackle. He had scanned the crowd while keeping a smile plastered on his lips. He was curious what foul mouth little shit was talking. Until his gaze lands on… you.  You look like the cat that got the cream as you look at your friend who has to hold onto you for support as she giggles and laughs. Your bright eyed gaze moves from her back to him just to tense as you catch his gaze. "Um," you elbow her- Renae- to get her attention and she giggles before she looks and she's freezing too. "He isn't looking at us is he?" She shrugs. "I don't know…" she trails off. You squint before covering your mouth with your hands, talking just loud enough for Renae to hear you but no one else. "Blink twice if you can hear us." It was a joke. There's no way- And then he's blinking. Once. Twice.  "Oh bitch-tits." You want to scream, grabbing Renae's wrist, pushing through the crowd. "Fuck, dude, this is going to be my thirteenth reason, I swear to fuck-"  He watches the two of you go. He shouldn't be interested. You're just some snot nosed kid. But… how you spoke, the chaotic-ness of it all. The way the light caught your hair, the curves of your body, the way that skirt flares up as you scurry away... he's intrigued to say the least…

💫 Homelander wasn't normally so… interested in the general public, but he had been quick to commit your face and voice to memory. He had actually stumbled upon you, finding out you worked at some high-end retail job. You dealt with snooty people and all the while kept up that pretty little customer service smile despite the clear signs of barely concealed frustration searing under your skin. He could smell the heat of your blood and watched you through the building's walls when you went on break and sat down stiffly, just to scream into your hands. It started out as something funny because he found your misery amusing and then the descent into madness started.

💫 It was like he went through the five stages of grief. At first he had convinced himself that he keeps watching you out of sheer amusement. And then he started to take in more pieces of you: how you took care of things you treasure; how you cared and cooed at the plants that were in your house; how you talked to that damn fish that your treasured so much; your little mannerisms- things he started to find… cute. Then it was denile: no he didn't find you cute he found you amusing. He laughed when you seethed about your toast burning; how you had a breakdown as soon as you got off work because the crushing weight of living in a capitalistic society came crashing down on you; how you talked to yourself like you were having a full blown conversation with another person- you were amusing. And then came the realization and then rage: how dare you make him feel like this? You were just a sniveling little thing. He was a god. How dare you? And then came acceptance. He was… casual when he accepted it. Like all the turmoil had fallen off his shoulders. He was watching you, taking in how you nurtured your "plant children", how you talked to them and wiped the dust off their leaves. It made his heart flutter.

💫 After that, his casual viewings become much more of a time investment as he pays closer and closer attention to you. Every waking moment he has when he's not busy juggling the press and Vought, is spent watching you. Taking in information and storing it in his brain for safe keeping: what you like to eat; your favorite type of plant; your dream vacation; what type of fish you have (you have a betta. He searched them up. He learned all about them to feel closer to you). 

💫 Soon enough, observing isn't enough. He starts to go into your apartment when you're not home, looking at the coziness of your space. Taking in the scent and looking at your plants and your Betta fish that flares his gills at him. It makes him snort in amusement. How cute. He'll lay on your bed, shoving his face into your pillows and inhaling deeply, moaning in contentment. 

💫 He also starts to "coincidentally" run into you on the streets. He finds it so funny each time you gawk at him. A "holy fuck!" Leaving you as you gesture wildly, "it's fucking Homelander!" 

○ He's not too keen on your potty mouth, but he supposes he can let it slide. He's just as bad.

💫 He smiles his charming little smile as he'll make small talk with you, his hands on his hips as he takes you in. He loves knowing how much stronger he is than you and he has to fight hard to keep from popping a boner. You're so fun to talk to, you say the most out of pocket things:

"Yeah, like, almost got stabbed by a homeless man today. Like, 0/10 would not recommend." You said, looking at your nails. Frowning about the nail polish already chipping. "Yeah, well, not many people put 'being stabbed' at the top of their list of things to happen to them." He replies with a laugh, moving closer to you, taking in that mellow perfume you wear. "I mean, I'm down for knife play, but I'm a classy slut. You have to take me to dinner first." He's flabbergasted. He loves it.

💫 He begins to insert himself into your life, taking up more and more of your free time, you don't even notice it at first. How he just… starts spending time at your home. How you two begin a ritual of movie night every Saturday (he forced Vought to make that day his off day. He was not to be called under any circumstance short of the world going to implode on itself). You have so many emotions in that body of yours and he finds it amusing when you gasp or a look of disgust crosses your face at something a character did. You'd be horrible at poker.

"What the fu-" He has an easy smile on his face as he wraps his arm around your shoulders and places his hand over your mouth. Not threateningly. More playful than anything. You simply hold onto his hand with both of yours as you watch the screen. 

💫 You catch him off guard all the time. Your girly appearance gives nothing away to the chaotic tendencies. You were the closest thing to an actual agent of chaos he's seen. He once watched you, while you were with that little friend of yours- Renae- run across the street as a group of men cat called you, swinging your purse at high velocity speed, yelling: "I'll fucking end your bloodline!" The men were terrified and scurried off screaming "crazy bitch!" You had given Renae a thumbs up, proud of yourself. He also watched you steal a pro-life abortion sign "saying Jesus wouldn't want this" and javelin throwing it into someone's backyard pool before bolting down the street, cackling. Both times in heels. Both times he was weirdly turned on. 

💫 He likes how girly you dress. He loves it actually. He loves all the soft pastel colors you wear and the pleated skirts. It makes you look soft and delicate and he's obsessed with it. He has a tendency to pull at the hem of your skirt, flick it up slightly. You just give him a dead stare and lift up your skirt. "Shorts, bitch." You do it every time and he thinks it's funny.

💫 He hates that you're home screen is a collage of Soldier Boy with that stupid cursive font saying: "my daddy is super dead, but he could still hit it <;3". He hates it and then your lock screen is of your fish.

"Why do you have that?" He asks with disdain.  "What?" She asks looking up at him. He rolls his eyes. "Don't play stupid. Why is he your wallpaper? He's dead. He's been dead." Sure, that was his hero but like hell he wanted to see that man's charming smirk on your homescreen. "Soldier Boys is hot." You say it with all the seriousness of someone telling a prophecy. Homelander's eye twitches. "And I'm not." "No. You are. With your slutty waist." She assures him. "But Soldier Boy is the OG daddy." He scoffs. 

● He ends up stealing your phone later on when you're not looking and changing the wallpaper himself, having memorized your password.

💫 For as flirty and raunchy your mind was, you were oddly freaked out of genuine touch. The first time he tried to make a move on you, you screamed and almost gave yourself a concussion with how you fell over the arm of the couch. He was stunned until you explained you had issues with romantic touch. "Daddy issues, am I right?" She tries to play it off with a laugh. He is not laughing. Later, though, he starts to find it amusing, taking the chance to make you squirm and blush is so funny to him. He revels in your pain and embarrassment.

● He has killed people who had done the same. Like, actually snapped a guy's neck for it.

💫 He is NOT thrilled when you talk about wanting to rail fictional characters. He actually gets pouty. Genuinely gets pissy. He tries to ban you from watching anime.

"But. Toji hot." "I don't care if 'Toji hot'. He spits. "Toji is a fictional character. You need a real man that knows how to please you." You look at him, eating a spoonful of cereal despite his protests about eating it so late. You chew slowly and swallow. "Toji's got that potent dad nut. It works, John." Homelander practically chokes on his spit at that.

💫 He lets you call him John. He likes when you call him John. Call him John.

💫 He actually tries to be better for you because you've voiced how you didn't like when people get hurt. He tries. Key word tries to be more aware, to be a better person. Just for you. 

💫 Absolutely goes insane if you praise him. It's all he wants and all her craves. You've casually complimented him once and he's latched onto it ever since. He's infatuated with your praise. He's like a puppy, looking to you after he did a good deed, looking to you when he does a chore right. It's almost better than sex for him. Almost.

💫 He's elated when you let him lay in your lap. Despite how squeamish you were about sex, you craved physical touch and, guess what? So does he! He's obsessed with laying down and taking in your sweet scent, your fingers playing with his hair as you scroll through your phone. He adores the casual touches you leave on him, adore every time you hang onto his arm. He knows you don't mean anything romantic, but it still fills a hole to have a genuine companion that cares about him in his life. 

💫 You've helped him after a breakdown, when his mind felt like it was splitting and his ego was taking in a mind of its own- and then there you were. In all your pretty, pastel colored and pleated skirt glory.

"John?" You say softly, not approaching him just yet. Giving him the space he needs. "Do you need a hug?" He's breathing hard. He didn't know why he came to your apartment. He thought he was going back to his penthouse in Vought towers. But no. Here he was. And you're standing there, confused about your pretty features. The chaotic side of you is completely gone for the moment. He just stares at you. Of course you'd run to some bitch. A voice hisses in his head. We're a god among men and you come crawling to some fucking-  He squeezes his eyes shut. Your eyes soften. "Come on." You say, your voice soft and gently. A soft coo to him. "Let's sit you down." You open the door wider for him and he trudges in, looking completely drained. He sinks into your couch and you disappear into your room and come out with a fuzzy blanket. The one you wrap around the two of you have movie night. You drape it over him, gently. "It's ok, sweetheart," you say. "I don't know what's happening but you're safe now." He almost scoffs. No one could touch him. He was The Homelander. But… how you said it. It made his chest ache with something heavy. "Can… Can you hold me?" He practically whispers. "Of course, honey." You open your arms up for him. He immediately melts into your hold, his head pressing against the crook of your neck, his hands desperately clinging to the back of your shirt. He sucks in a breath of your scent before he breaks, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as his sobs into you.  He's not a pretty crier. But who is? You run your hand through his hair. Your cheek resting against his head. It feels strange to see a man that could be your father break down. But you had a feeling he was a mess on the inside. All that bravado and charisma making up for an abysmal childhood.  It takes him a while to calm down. His puffy eyes blinking, his blue eyes glassy, he sniffles.  "Oh, sweetie," you coo, swiping your thumb under his eyes to wipe the tear streaks away. "You look like a mess." You say softly, not to make fun of him. Just to state an obvious fact. He sniffles, glaring at you.  You smile at him and he melts.

💫 He won't let you paint his nails, but he wants to paint your nails. He has a pension for picking colors related to him. You make fun of him for it. 

💫 He lets you put accessories in his hair. ONLY when it's movie night. He did accidentally go to a meeting with a hair clip that has rhinestones that spelt 'JUICY' on it. The Seven stayed silent and he was embarrassed as hell when he saw it in the mirror of the window.

💫 HE IS ACTUALLY TRAUMATIZED WHEN YOU FIGURE OUT HE WEARS A BODYSUIT OH MY GOD. HE SUFFERS. THAT'S HOW YOU GET HIM BACK FOR MESSING WITH YOUR FLUSTEREDNESS.

"What's up, my cute stick bug." "Shut the fuck up."  You are the only person allowed to poke fun at him about that. Anyone else would get obliterated.

💫 If you involve him in picking out your outfits, he has hit Nirvana. He has truly seen heaven. He actually has a pretty solid eye for clothes. But he will take the opportunity to coordinate an outfit that has colors that compliment his hero outfit. If you notice, he'll play dumb.

💫 Anyway, congratulations, you have an OP friend. Until he isn't content with just being friends any more….

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to support me consider donating to my Ko-fi!

[verdemoun]

Please please please tell me Rains Fall and Eagle Flies are in your timewarp AU, if the answer is yes PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE RAMBLE ABOUT THEM I LOVE YOUR AU SO SO MUCHHHH

rains fall def isn't getting timewarped he deserves to pass away peacefully in his sleep knowing that his people were safe and content, able to build new lives in canada. he got to sit around a campfire one last time with paytah at his side and despite all the devastation and young men lost in 1899 the tribe healed and there's a new generation who will be raised with the freedom of knowing their home will always be theirs and still learn their traditions. he gets to listen to children play and finally find peace with the fact he may have lost all his sons but ultimately the freedom eagle flies had wanted for the wapiti people (even though they lost their land) was secured

EAGLE FLIES ON THE OTHER HAND

arthur was cautiously optimistic that dying might have been enough to chill eagle flies out nope. man found himself a horse and is minutes away from setting a petrol station on fire when they find him

all that anger eagle flies is holding onto would be tenfold for a long damned time in modern era like things are still Not Great for native americans and he would feel awful but vindicated

in a really tragic way grief would be his salvation he would feel so lost and stuck like he misses his father his friends his men. he was angry over losing his home in 1899 but in modern era he's lost his family and while arthur is still a great friend to him and he values that connection it's not family or home and he realizes he doesn't have anything left to be fighting for

BUT IT'S OKAY HAPPY STUFF TIME between arthur being the voice of non-violence (for probably the first time in his life) and learning about interactions between first nations and the us government over the 100+ years between 1899 and modern era eagle flies would come to his own conclusion that while violent protest was often necessary to start negotiation, rights were secured in legal jargon. gotta engage with the system to change and beat the system

he starts studying both history and law with a touch of lenny's tutorage. (he also learns to hide his identity and still goes to protests because he KNOWS that absolute pacifism won't work. you cannot take the absolute rage out of the last son)

it wasn't in his time or rains fall's time but the wapiti people were able to return to the heartlands before modern era so he gets to see his people in their home and no it's not perfect but it's still something so joyous it motivates him to keep being an activist both civilly and violently

there's such a positive exchange of knowledge like eagle flies is able to share traditional stories that were lost to time but also learn traditions that were already lost in 1899 but rediscovered through the exhaustive efforts of the modern era wapiti people

i lied rains fall gets one day in timewarp when he meets his natural death so he sees eagle flies as a matured young man in his 30s and they get to embrace. more importantly they sit down and talk in a way they hadn't been able to for a long time. rains fall gets to tell his son he was always proud of him and understood even through their disagreements eagle flies only ever wanted what was best for their people. eagle flies gets to tell his father he was sorry for not listening: he understands now what rains fall was always trying to tell him about the destructive power of violence (even though rains fall doesn't want or need an apology. he just loves his son and is glad he's getting a chance at a new life )

they get one perfect day where they get to be happy and understand one another

TIME FOR FUNNIES eagle flies accidentally becomes the dutch of isaac's anarchist friend group. he's giving them all the tips on how to get away with political crime. he's not directly involved but there's a whatsapp group where isaac sends selfies with the sawn off head of a columbus statue and eagle flies is living vicariously through them while he maintains his civil activist status

charles is his modern era right hand man. he will go to charles to bitch about stupid local government meetings he's been asked to speak at. he's been in timewarp for almost a decade by the time charles gets there but he's still annoyed by the same stuff charles is and it's very cathartic to hear someone else agree and Get it from their perspective

as a direct result he has the same tongue in cheek humor as charles and arthur is so easy to tease. they'll be hanging out and arthur will ask charles if he can unpack the dishwasher when he has a chance* and both eagle flies and charles will hit him with the 'slave to the white man u_u'. as much as charles tries to assure arthur it was a joke you bet poor arthur is already insisting he can do it himself

i am so sorry i hope this is sufficient rambling

[kangals]

way back in 2014, probably a few weeks or months after you posted that picture of boone with the stick on his head, i checked your blog out and so dearly enjoyed all the dogposting that i followed. i think you were the first dogblr blog i actually followed at the time, but it's been ages and my memory is bad, so i'm not fully sure. it wasn't long before then--2012 i think?--that i had gotten a new dog of my own, a border collie. iirc he and boone were just about the same age.

in 2018 i lost that blog i'd followed you with, and a lot of connections with it. i didn't return until 2021, and when i did, i didn't refollow most of the old blogs; i don't think i even really went looking for them. it took me a while to get back into the swing of using tumblr.

last september, my border collie had a sharp health decline, and i had to say goodbye. it's not the first time i've had to put a pet down, but i think it was the hardest. i'm still not over it. even just typing this now, i feel raw.

then in march or so, i made a new fandom friend who knows you, and i enthusiastically recalled following you before and how much i enjoyed it. i didn't even know about stellina, and now there's kep too! but... i also didn't know you'd lost boone. i followed because i still really enjoy your blog, and i love your collies too. and butters!!! so glad she's still here!

idk what made me look tonight... maybe because i talked about my old border collie with someone today. i went looking for the posts immediately around when you lost boone, because i guess some part of me wanted to know what happened. i spent the better part of an hour (maybe longer?) reading posts from the weeks before the decline, and then the loss, and then the deluge of old boone pictures after, and i've been crying pretty much the whole time just reading your posts and tags about him.

and this is a long and windy way to get to saying thank you. i'm glad you shared your grief, though that seems like a weird thing to say. there's something cathartic about crying over someone else's dog when you still hurt about your own, and knowing you're not alone in that kind of sorrow. boone was such a beautiful boy. i'll never forget that silly post that made me check your blog out in the first place, or the years of posts i stuck around for after. i wish i'd remembered to follow sooner, but the archive is still there, and it's so fun looking through all those old posts about him and his quirks and antics. he was amazing.

sorry for the length of this, i just... really wanted you to know that he touched yet another life, i guess. and i've been so deeply enjoying your posts about stellina and kep. i know it'll be a year soon... i hope there's some peace in how things have gone since he passed, and i hope the anniversary isn't too hard on you. thank you for sharing him with us.

i've been on tumblr for 14 years and this is, genuinely, the nicest ask i think i've ever been sent.

thank you - sincerely. there's been a lot of times over the course of this blog that i've felt like i was oversharing, or talking about pointless things only i cared about. i still so frequently start typing out a post only to stop mid-sentence and delete it because i can't help but think "no one cares about this." possibly it's why i like to talk about my pets so much - they're not me, but i'm the one who knows them best, so i get to say "hey look at this" and ramble and have people say "i'm looking" back. when boone passed, i lost that filter and i poured my grief out into this blog because it was the closest outlet i had. and to have hundreds of people not only acknowledge this but to commiserate, to reassure, to share their own stories - that helped healed me more than i can put into words. it's exactly as you said: there's a catharsis in grieving together.

i am sorry you also had to say goodbye. i wish i could say it gets easier, but i think that would be defeating the point of grief. your grief is your love and damn it if there isn't any act more loving in the world than choosing to say goodbye to an old, loyal dog. you think of how dogs were domesticated tens of thousands of years ago, of how human society and dogs have developed intertwined, of how we have records of ancient greeks and romans carving loving epitaths on their dog's graves, of how a prehistoric dog's skull was found with a bone placed in it's mouth after death, and you wonder if grieving a dog isn't one of the most consistent experiences in the whole of human history that there is.

i'm glad to know that this could bring you some comfort, in some way. it's incredibly touching to know that you kept me and boone in your thoughts for all this time. i am doing ok - i've been reflecting a lot as we approach the one-year mark. i'm not sure if i'll be able to condense those thoughts down into coherent words, but i'll do my best. i hope that my silly little pets continue to bring you some happiness, and that you've found peace with your own grief.

thank you, again - this is extremely touching and means a hell of a lot to me.

[nanomooselet]

Elendira the Crimsonnail (I)

I'll start with my thoughts on the Maximum version; maybe it will soften some people's feelings to know I'm fond of her. To be clear, if I am wrong about this and Orange are just backdooring in loli fan service I will extremely displeased, but I don't think that's what they're doing.

When I read Trigun Maximum I couldn't figure out what El's deal was, thematically. Like all of Knives's followers, she had something going on with bodily autonomy (I've also heard it that they're all marginalised in some way, but I don't see it? However, they do all have unusual relationships with bodies and agency over them); she's a transgender woman who impales people with nails. But we learn nothing about her past, save that she's been at Knives's side for even longer than Legato has. We learn more about the inner life of Midvalley the Hornfreak.

The Guns are in many ways an argument in favour of Knives's beliefs about humans, but compared to… well really the majority of the cast, Elendira is self-confident and refreshingly free of angst. She sees no reason to deprive herself of the finer things in life or to refrain from doing what amuses or excites her, especially if it's violent. She's committed to assisting Knives in his genocide, knowing he will not spare her, but she claims to hate the suicidal (such as Legato) and is dismissive of immature men (such as Legato). Knives is respectful of her (in a way he isn't of, say, Legato - to whom Knives is attached, but deeply in denial about). They're very nearly equals. If he falls, Elendira will be the one to bring an end to the world. (Presumably because if Knives hasn't survived, there's no way Legato has.)

(Okay, I'll stop dunking on Legato but the way he and Elendira interact is absolutely hilarious. They hate each other so dearly you can feel the hostility crackling off the page whenever they're both on it, but they also rely on each other without question. I would read a workplace sitcom about these people in a heartbeat.)

There are theories - she has some sort of tragedy in her past ("I don't like nice men. They die too soon," gets brought up in this context) or that her transition was not met with acceptance. I can't disprove either one, but neither do I see solid evidence to support them in particular, I suppose? Beyond planetary society's general horribleness, we're given no clear reason she's in the position she's in. El has decided it's none of our business and that's that. It's her prerogative, though I do feel uneasy if "she's a transwoman" is supposed to serve as the entirety of the explanation for her being a willing accomplice to genocide.

So I have my own theory, and it's that Elendira defines and masters herself. She is resolutely singular. In a story where so much of who we are is shaped by others - via names, purpose, scars, grief, longing, imitation, jealousy, rivalry - Elendira neither needs nor is needed by anyone. Legato was rescued and named by Knives, the first ever to treat him as though he's any other human, and even his powers need other people to fully express themselves; Elendira named herself and presumably sought out Knives for her own reasons. Whatever the tragic backstory reasons for that, we don't learn them, because it doesn't matter to her. I wonder if Knives sees something to aspire to in her total self-sufficiency, or even in her nihilism. Of all the characters, Elendira does most consistently have her shit together, while Knives is… well, he was a sensitive boy.

Regardless, if ending the world presents an amusing enough challenge, Elendira sees no compelling reason she shouldn't take the shot. There's nothing else on, none of these people mean anything to her, and she'll look damn good doing it.

To her credit, she does look incredible. Being well-dressed in the face of the apocalypse is a very specific niche, but El owns it as few others could.

She's pitted against Razlo and Livio (I'd say particularly Razlo) because their purpose has always been to be needed by someone else; Razlo joined the Eye of Michael because it was a place where we will be needed. Not to mention their selfhood is by definition a little unstable, whereas Elendira knows of self-doubt and uncertain identity by reputation, but has never met either one of them face-to-face.

And yet in the end she's defeated. Because, having perfect mastery, she's not learned to recover from the kind of ego-shattering loss she regularly doles out. Razlo and Livio, for obvious reasons, have that shit down to a science - Razlo exists to step in when Livio's at the end of his strength, and Livio learns to step in when Razlo's at his limit. Whereas perfection has no room for improvement. There's certainly prestige in being peerless in your field and unbeatable one-on-one, but who do you rely on for back-up?

Elendira neither needs nor is needed by anyone. So in the end, with Legato fully occupied, when she's pushed right to the limit of her strength -

- there's no one to step in.

@ultraviolet-cello

Part II

[anophelei]

at best there genuinely isn't a meaningful function that this "pedohunter" callout shit serves. you know full fucking well that all forms of abuse are ignored and brushed aside, child abuse being worse, and csa being the most severely unaddressed of all. even if you think such crimes are the exception to prison abolition or death sentences, you know that law enforcement is criminally negligent in handling them, if they even fucking bother. and if they do bother in cases of csem/csam and online exploitation, they explicitly DO NOT make it a public as any form of public acknowledgement is detrimental to collecting evidence and establishing a case; if you sound the alarm you're simply giving an opportunity for people to cut and run while burning as much evidence as possible on the way out. THIS is WHY the fbi doesn't acknowledge anonymous tips, it would only end up being an easy way to confirm if you're being investigated.

at most all you can hope for in making a callout post is some small amount of community awareness, maybe helping keep people away from abusers, but there are a lot of fucking consequences in doing so holy shit. first, it signals that it's time to ditch and set back up elsewhere; if someone online is looking into it then you can be sure as shit law enforcement is at least aware of the situation, ESPECIALLY when you explicitly make note of NOTIFYING THE FBI AND LOCAL LAW ENFORCEMENT ??? I'm sorry you didn't get a fucking medal for recording and cataloguing shit, but you most likely didn't even have to do that and doing so hinders investigations given how long that takes, you don't have the resources or jurisdiction so you've just delayed any investigation from people who do.

second, even IF you handle everything perfectly and with the delicacy something like this requires, you are further traumatising the victims and retraumatising survivors by blasting the very real abuse and exploitation they've suffered through into the public sphere, quite literally showcasing it with the goal of as many people as possible seeing it. you are not going to do that though, you're going to fuck it up in some way, and this whole situation is clear proof of that. the ways in which toonimal has been handled irresponsibly are too many to fucking count, and the sheer negligence and lack of care has resulted in victims' information being readily available. Even if no direct harm comes as a result of the spotlight you've placed on the victims and where and how to find them, being exposed as a victim before you've even come to terms with it yourself, not to mention the painful processes necessary to fully acknowledge what was done to you, and then to be ready to talk about it after, IS REALLY GOD DAMN FUCKING TRAUMATISING. you are forcing victims through years of pain and confusion and grief and loss without even the slightest consideration of what that might be like, and this isn't the type of thing where biting the bullet is necessary or at all helpful. in reality, pushing victims to reconcile with realisations that will haunt them for the rest of their lives is only likely to result in denial, you are directly hindering victims from recovery and pushing them CLOSER to their abusers, who WILL capitalise on their conflicted emotional state to isolate them further and draw them closer.

If it doesn't stop the abuse and it doesn't help victims, the only thing it could be doing is making you feel good about yourself for your catastrophically misguided attempt at sticking it to LITERAL CHILD ABUSERS, which is the most patently fucking pathetic shit you could ever hope to accomplish. what you care about is your own deluded notion of getting the bad guy, and this is only further evidenced in every single person who responds to and shares your pitiful self aggrandizement frothing at the mouth and chomping at the bit over how badly they want to kill these sick freaks, how righteous they are for that, and how far beneath them the degenerate monsters are.

yeah, child abusers are fucking bad people, you're not special for thinking so, and you're not accomplishing ANYTHING when you dehumanise them purely for the sake of posturing. you only manage to make it patently fucking obvious that you hold both yourself and the people who sexually abuse children to be more important than the victims could ever be.

you truly cannot comprehend the idea of even considering us, of acknowledging us as anything more than an abstract concept only significant in the fact that we have determined someone to be guilty. I'm an adult, I've been in mental health care for quite literally half my life, I can handle your callous disregard for what was done to me and the countless, immeasurable ways in which it affected me.

A child can't.

Maybe you should ask yourself why you've never once reacted with grief for the victims, have only ever considered crucifying sinners. Why you've never cared to – or even considered the possibility of – learning the ways to recognise when a child is being abused, the potential to help them recognise if something is being done to them, to realise it if so. It might actually help someone, and it's not like calling for heads on the fucking internet could ever hope to accomplish anything. Give up the pretentions of giving a single shit about us and maybe actually do it for once in your life.

[kitcat992]

Just wanted to stop by and let you know that I was thinking of you and sincerely hope life is being kind ❤️

I’ve read a few Irondad fics lately that have been so well articulated and beautifully written, and they’ve reminded me of your stories. But your work will always be the GOAT to me. Everything else I read is always compared to your version of the MCU, because that’s canon in my opinion.

I secretly love that your stories keep going, that Identity Within is still a WOP, because parting with a finished story when you reach the end… a story that you’ve grown to love and formed a bond with… it’s really hard to say goodbye. It feels a little like grief if I’m being honest.

I’ve lived in the joy of knowing that there’s no permanent end (yet) to the Identity Series for years now, and I’m actually really grateful that I haven’t had to read an ending or experience that final farewell.

I just wanted you to know that your work is so appreciated, and while I’m sure it weighs on you sometimes that the updates take a while and the series has been ongoing for a few years, it actually brings me so much comfort ❤️ You deserve to know that you make that difference for someone.

Life is being....SOMETHING to me 😅😫😩So when I say that this message rejuvenated the very essence of my soul, I truly mean it ❤️❤️❤️

I've had some very rough nights recently, thanks to the wonders of ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ stress ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟI've got front row tickets to the "when it rains, it pours" show, and to add onto that, I started a whole new career where I'm *running a freaking business.* Yeah, sleep doesn't really happen as often as it should for me.

And because I'm still trying to sleep, I don't keep my mind operating at such a capacity that I could do anything worthwhile other than watch Tiktoks re-read through my series for shits and giggles, because I wrote it having wanted to read these things, and now I can go back and have fun reading the story that was once all jammed packed into my head. And in doing this, I tend to remember comments that made my entire day, month, year, and so I go into my inbox and just....I just read all the comments, over and over again, with such a profound, appreciative, ecstatic, blessed feeling in my heart.

The love that everyone has had for this series is what makes me still so deep in love with it today. And hearing that from people like you, who are so kind to take a minute of your time and express these things as if it were your first time ever reading the story...god, a girl couldn't be anymore lucky. Truly, #hashtag blessed.

My free time is far and few inbewteen these days (why did I decide to go run a freaking business 😳) but I promise you, no job will ever take this series away from me. I'm far too excited for everything that's yet to come, still to be written, and needs to be told, that I'll never leave this piece unfinished. Knowing that the pace it's taken isn't something that bother people does ease my nerves and calm me a bit, and I thank you so very much for expressing that and all the love alongside with it.

Chapter 9, Bachelor Party, is one BEAST of a chapter that's nearing closer and closer to finished every day. I hope for an update within the month or two. It contains a whooping 17 characters in a single scene, with character interactions we damn right deserved in the MCU. 2/3rds of the way done and and I think my inability to control the word count says enough about what to expect.

These characters have gone through far too much to rush through chapters now. In fact, the more things go on, the richer things get -- and to know amazing people like you are along for the ride...that's just so dam nifty. ❤️❤️❤️

[demonslayedher]

How would Rengoku react if Senjuro died?

Anon... why you gotta be evil.

This is just.... auuugghhh,,,,,,,, ggggggghhhhhhh

My gut response is "NOT WELL" but that's more about my own response than Kyojuro's. If anyone can handle this with grace, it's Kyojuro, but the circumstances of the loss would probably determine a lot of how he handles it.

For instance, if it was an illness like tuberculous (which was rampant), there'd have been some warning and emotional preparation, and probably a delicate balancing act of his Pillar duties and his family duties, all the more dependent on how much Shinjuro could be depended on to care for Senjuro. Certainly, the Pillar salary would ensure that Senjuro had top-notch care, but Kyojuro would be anxious to spend as much time at home as he could to support Senjuro and try to either help him get better or support him if he doesn't. Having been through this with his mother, it'd tear him up inside to know what's likely ahead but he'd remain as positive and supportive as possible. Then, after having done all he could, I think he'd keep his pain to himself and stay focused on his duties, even if, say, he can't hide the sadness from those who can smell or hear that.

It was was purely an accident, I think it would really throw off his spiritual inner peace for a while, like Senjuro was always a counter balance to all the darkness Kyojuro faces in his line of work but then he totally loses that balance. It's Kyojuro, though, he'd recover his footing and keep moving forward.

If it was violence...

Ok. Here is where is might see a ballistic Kyojuro. It it was a demon, damage to himself be damned, Kyojuro is taking that sucker down even if they burned down the whole place (as long as no other innocent humans are harmed). But the worst way this could go, the way I absolutely do not want to entertain, is if Shinjuro did something in a drunken state. I don't think Shinjuro would ever intend to cause serious harm and he'd be beside himself with grief if an accident happened because he was being violent, and as long as he showed enough remorse Kyojuro would eventually forgive him, but initially, years of Kyojuro's pent-up wishes for his father to get his act together would all come boiling over at once on Senjuro's behalf. Kyojuro might even be rightfully hateful toward Shinjuro for a good while, maybe even disown him and say that's picking up the Rengoku family legacy from now on and Shinjuro isn't welcome.

But, this being Kyojuro, he would eventually calm down. He'd find his center again. And, being empathetic toward his father and not wanting to go down the same path (though perhaps he'd find himself feeling tempted to drown his feelings in sake? Please don't start, Kyojuro), that might be enough for him to recognize he's got to calm the blaze in his heart if he is to go on carrying the responsibilities of the Flame Pillar.

That's enough, I'm done, I promise never to kill Senjuro in my fanworks.

[darkkitty1208]

The past few weeks before I finally returned from my unofficial hiatus, I've lost a lot of my motivation to write and anything to do with being part of the fandom as a whole. I contemplated quitting and never returning again, deleting all my works and socials and any other trace of me anyone could find, but I know that it's just the anxiety talking and my brain playing tricks with me due to IRL stress and that logically, I *do* have a place here in the fandom space. So I held back.

Now that I'm here again -- and have been welcomed very warmly by dear friends -- the urge to create has finally come around again and I want to get back into writing. It's just that, god, I feel very rusty. It's been quite a while and I feel like the words have run away from me after not using them for so long. I look into my mostly-abandoned WIPs and I can't find the right way to continue them.

But despite that, I decided to do a bit of the good ol' self-projecting and started a WIP (instead of finishing my old ones, lol). It's not much, but it's something. I felt compelled to share in hopes it would motivate me to write some more. This is all I've got so far, and it is admittedly very rough, but it's getting there.

~

Here’s the thing: healing isn't linear.

These are words repeated over and over again by those who you wouldn't think ever even had to heal. They're the kind of words that would lose its meaning the more they're said, and have you start wondering if to some people, they ever had any sort of meaning to begin with.

You can never really tell where it starts or where it finishes, or how it happened or if it ever did happen, the same way the flawed five stages of grief could never explain the true act of mourning and the same way your every emotion defies anything your logic could ever tell you.

Sometimes, Stephen finds, some things are just unexplainable like that.

Sometimes, Stephen doesn't think he's capable of healing. Sometimes, especially in nights where every bit of his sanity starts to fall apart and each choking breath would sting as it enters his damned lungs, he thinks he's too far gone to be capable of it at all.

(Sometimes he would sit silently and stare into nothing, thinking about the way nobody would understand that at some point in his life, he wasn't the man he used to be anymore. Sometimes he could feel it, the thing that consumed him, that took away who he was, and the way it would take up every space in his ribcage and burn his insides like acid, the way it would rip apart the space in his chest where his heart used to be. Sometimes he would think about it, and the way that it makes him nothing but an empty shell of a man. Every day that thing would grow inside of him and one day, it might ruin him; as if he isn't already far too broken to begin with.)

But it's here, in the roof of a sentient building he's grown to call his home where various pots are neatly arranged in small shelves, with his trembling fingers digging into rich soil and dirt sticking underneath his fingernails, that he starts to find proof that maybe, he had the capability after all.

It's here that he understands why humans would pick up a trowel and spend so much time getting on their hands and knees to dirty themselves with grimes of dirt.

There's something about the green of the Earth and the smell of her moist dirt in the early mornings, damp from the moon's tears, that soothes a part of him that he couldn't quite identify. There's something comforting about the mindless action of digging and burying and placing and watering. There's something comforting about knowing that his damaged fingers could sprout life even if it all depended on time.

But that's the thing, isn't it? Everything is just a matter of time.

(Sometimes he wishes healing isn't linear, the way he wishes time doesn't march on an ascending line.)

He remembers the same damp smell of moss and the same smudges of dirt on the knees of his trousers back then, the first time he was taught about gardening and farming and sprouting life from seeds.

He had still been a small boy in Nebraska, back then. He had been young, and he had never understood patience the way he does now. He didn't understand that what he planted was something that, if anything, was considered a miracle, and that miracles took time, and that miracles don't last forever. He didn't understand that life and decay is just a matter of time, and that everything including himself would eventually be nothing but rotting flesh and cracked bones, becoming one with the earth and consumed by the maggots and mushrooms.

Because that's the thing: everything is just a matter of time.

The experience had meant nothing to him then, and had taught him nothing much of anything at all, but it means something to him now.

[madaboutmunson]

sad-rockstar-Steve x tour-photographer-Eddie

Little idea I had and decided to write it

"I do NOT want this assignment, Marney!" Eddie pushes the flimsy file back over to his agent. He already knows what's inside. It shows up at least once a year, which was a relief comparing it to how frequent the request used to be.

"Eddie, baby, hear me out. It’s not an assignment. It is a project. It could get you back on the radar. It's not even a tour, really, it's a residency, and his team have already provided you with a list of shots he wants for the book. It's pose, point and shoot, Ed. Easy money." She slides it back over to him, keeping her fingers on top of it firmly, drumming her bright red talons on the card as she looks him right in the eyes, "and it's not like the gigs have been rolling in for you, now have they, sweetheart? Other than the family portrait business that I know you absolutely adore!" She smirks and holds his gaze. Using his favourite pet name against him makes his blood boil, but he isn't angry with her. It was Him.

"Gigs drying up for us is not my fault! The last client wanted all candid behind-the-scenes shots. I provided that. I edited them, barely, because they wanted the realism of life on the road, and they ok'd them. It's not my fault the internet is a cruel, unforgiving place!” Eddie exclaims in annoyance, “Especially when it’s full of Harronites, or whatever those lunatics call themselves." Eddie mumbles under his breath.

She raises her eyebrow at him, "He asked for you specifically." She says, and flicks open the folder revealing an old photo Eddie had taken of Rock Phenom Steve Harrington at one of his shows. He didn’t know what was so special about the picture. He’d taken this shot hundreds of times for artists. It's on a list of shots they can ask for. The artist climbs the barrier, and the hands of the fans reach up to them like worshipers praising their false idol. Eddie waves his hand, and the artist looks straight down the lens. It's supposed to be a duality of intimacy. The solid eye contact with the camera whilst in the arms of strangers, eager to reach out and touch their obsession which none of them would ever possess. Lest of all, that guy. 

What a piece of work. Ruined Eddie’s career and, damn, near ruined his life! 

"He says," she balances her reading glasses on the tip of her button nose and pulls the sticky note from the photo, "no one captures his truth like Eddie Munson." She flips over the message so Eddie can see, “Signed it too. Could be worth something?”

"I've never even spoken to the guy. Why's he so obsessed with me?" Eddie whines, and his agent shrugs.

"Does it matter, Ed? There are a lot more zeros here than we'd see normally."

"Something seems off about this. I don't like it."

"You like his stuff, don't you?"

"Did! I did like his stuff until I published that stupid photo. He's been on my case ever since."

"Not flattered, Eddie?" She laughs

"At first, sure. Until his demands started rolling in, and his fans started giving me grief for declining them. They called me washed up! I hadn't even begun! I thought that picture was gonna be my big break! It went viral! Remember you told me that! But it was actually my demise, Marn!" Eddie seethes, “Imagine calling up your horde of rabid fans because you couldn’t get your way!” He closes the file and folds his arms. “No fuckin’ way! I can’t post a picture of a fucking sunset without his fans all over it like a rash.”

“Then just say yes, Eddie. It can’t be any worse than it is right now.” Marney says with a kind smile of compassion. She did want what was best for him, and though it killed him to admit it, he did need that money. He was in debt up to his eyeballs, barely breaking even at the studio, and the numbers on the cheque he saw, could clear that and then some.

Eddie sighs and sinks back into his chair, “I’m gonna regret this. I know I am.” he says tensely, running his hand through his hair.

He looks up at her, and she is already back in her chair, phone in hand, finger poised over the green call button. 

At his lowest, Eddie admits defeat and nods.

[mendeshoney]

ooh how about some angst with hiraeth?

just warning you all now, angst is my middle name @smileysvech , so proceed with caution.

"hiraeth - a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past" with andrei svechnikov

He can't do it.

He can't sit here, can't watch you with someone else, loving someone else, can't do it knowing you're about to marry someone else.

He thought he could, thought he could grin and bear it, do it for your sake because you deserve to be happy.

Andrei doesn't think he could even make it to the part when the officiant said "if anyone objects" without jumping out of his seat and crying out his own objections, and it hasn't even happened yet.

At least it's not your actual wedding. At least this is just an engagement party and not him having to sit here and watch you exchange vows with some fucking prick who doesn't deserve you.

Not that he feels like he deserves you either, but at least he would try to earn it, try to work every god damn day of his life to prove that he was right for you. Even if it cost him blood, sweat, and tears, he'd do it, crawl to the ends of the universe and back again on his hands and knees for you if that was what you needed for him.

He'd do it now, if he thought it would be enough to get you back.

Except...he didn't really have you in the first place, did he?

You two had something, something beautiful and something undeniably right, but he just couldn't get himself to do anything about it. He saw how his teammates lost girls left and right because they couldn't deal with their partners always being on the road, saw the strain it put on you to be away from him and he wasn't even yours.

He felt the strain of it too, every time he had to leave, every time he couldn't just stay with you, stay in your arms and be with you, he felt like he was leaving his home. Felt like he was leaving the one place, the one person who made him feel at peace, made him feel like he was home and he was safe and he was loved.

So he thought he had been doing what was best. Thought he made the right decision by putting a stop to this before it became something your souls couldn't take, before either of you committed to something that might just crash and burn anyway.

Andrei was so sure it would've crashed and burned, and he knew even then he wouldn't be able to handle it, wouldn't be able to handle losing you, losing his safe haven.

But he did. He lost you, and you weren't even his to begin with.

He felt so sick inside, so homesick, so desperate to return to you, to go back to the nights where you would just hold each other until the sun came up, him pressing silent kisses in the morning air to your skin, you writhing underneath him while the coffee brewed, fingers pruning from the slow way he took you in the shower.

How can you move on from a person when that person became your home?

Andrei doesn't know, but he knows he has to try, he has to, if it meant letting you have your happily ever after.

"She's so beautiful, isn't she?" Sara, Evgeny's girlfriend murmurs from beside him.

He snaps back into reality, watching you being embraced by the man who was smart enough to hold onto a good thing when he recognized it. He's giving a toast, thanking everyone for being there, and it makes Andrei feel even worse.

To Sara's right, Evgeny looks over at his little brother, worry lining his features. "Ty v poryadke?" Are you okay?

And Andrei...he can't lie.

He shakes his head, murmuring "Net."

He can't lie, not when your fiance bends down, kissing you on the cheek. Not when he sees the way you smile after it happens, the fact that the smile doesn't reach your eyes and he sees the way your body curls away from him just a fraction - not enough that anyone notices, but Andrei's never been 'just anyone' to you - and his heart plummets.

You don't love him.

You don't love this man, but you agreed to marry him anyway.

And he doesn't know what's worse, the fact that there's a possibility that you agreed to marry this guy because even if you didn't love him back, at least he loved you better than Andrei? Or the fact that maybe, just maybe, because he knew you like the back of his hand, knew you better than anyone else, there was a possibility that you loved Andrei enough, loved him so much that when he said he couldn't do this, you just let him go. Let him look for his own happily ever after, even if that meant it wasn't you.

You were always so selfless.

When your eyes lock with his through the crowd, he sees it then.

The heartbreak. The ache. The yearning. The "what if?" in your eyes.

"What if I still love you? What if you still love me?" Your eyes scream.

"I do, malyshka," his eyes say. "I do."

The distance between you now feels less like loss, and more like a challenge.

What are you going to do?