#did i send myself an ask just so i could phrase this post as an answer?

[narcpocalypse]

Speaking of that post I hope it's ok for me to send this ask in!

I have some OCs myself that also have NPD(+other PDs as well, like ASPD AND BPD for example) and I was wondering how to realistically portray NPD without unintentionally stigmatizing/demonizing it?

*also some are also POC as well and are my Elder Scrolls OCs also, if this helps.*

Feel free to delete this ask, if you don't feel like answering!

AGHHH MY FIRST ASK!!!!!!!!/pos

Fair warning, this is going to be a LONGGGG ass post and it will mention ableism towards NPDers. I want to make sure I cover as much as possible. If you have NPD and want to add anything, pls do so in a reblog or the comments! I am also super delirious so if what I say makes no sense I'm so sorry 😭

I think a full, completely in depth understanding is the key to not writing something stigmatizing/demonizing. It sounds obvious, but in the case of NPD, there's so much misinformation so I am hoping this post can guide you in the writing process. You never know what little thing can cause accidental mischaracterization.

This is a super important topic for me because honestly, I'm trying to figure out the same as someone with NPD myself, even with all the info available. I feel like there's so much grey area because so much is still unknown about the disorder (fuck the psych system/narc abuse believers). A lot of us have to go from our personal experiences and figure things out on our own, which brings me to my first topic:

Self Diagnosis And The Criteria!!!!!!!!

A LOT of us are self diagnosed, including myself. Whether you're officially diagnosed or not, most of us can agree the DSM5 is booty ass. I bring up self diagnosis specifically because due to the DSM5 being shitty, it's suuuper difficult to get diagnosed or even want a diagnosis. I personally don't want one.

If that's a theme you want to bring up in your work, I would definitely follow blogs here that break down the diagnostic criteria and re-define it in a realistic way. Having this is super important because the DSM5 is MADDD confusing even if it wasn't ableist.

Your characters might resonate with that confusion and even anger. Rage is such a prominent emotion with us narcissists, so its highly encouraged you tap into that. The stigma is so impactful to most of us and personally keeps me hidden.

If you went off the official criteria, you could innocently and accidentally write an ableist trope based off the DSM5. For example, the DSM5 has a very vague and "I do this just because I can blah blah blah and there's a name for it" narrative of narcissists. There's no nuance. They state accurate symptoms but don't accurately explain why we have them. Without context, it makes our intentions ultimately one size fits awful.

Here are some resources that have been super helpful to me!

Some extra specific things I keep in mind when writing my narcissistic characters:

-“Bad behavior” is such an important phrase to emphasize when writing narcissists negative symptoms and being mindful on how you approach the impact. Make sure that phrase is clear, even if they will not redeem themselves and are a piece of garbage. They did xyz because of bad behavior due to symptoms, they hurt john doe because of bad behavior due to symptoms. They make the conscious choice not to change their bad behavior because abc or they make the conscious choice to do better because blah blah blah.

-Depending on what communication style you want two or more characters to have, make sure the outcomes are accurate based off of symptoms. My examples don't explain narcissists as a whole, but they are based off of my symptoms:

Lack of Communication: Increase in superiority symptoms, increase in rage, increase in invalidation and inferiority feelings. Other parties, specifically egotypicals may have a misconception of the narcissist and believe their symptoms are how they really are and can't be redeemed due to stigma. In the situation involving a narcissist however, in my experience when this happens I'm always so confused. Nothing makes sense and nobody is explaining anything to me. I need outside perspective as to why my actions are wrong and lack of communication will sink me deeper into my delusions. Communication is so important coming from the outside perspective to snap me out of my spiral. Lack of communication on my end will cause me to bottle up my feelings, convinced I’m better alone. Not explaining my intentions (or lack there of, to be completely blunt and vulnerable.) to someone I hurt can cause them so much more pain too. I don't want to hurt anyone, and even if I don't FEEL sorry, I can acknowledge I don't want the people I care for to be hurt by my bad actions.

Proper Communication: Honestly in my case, usually the damage I caused isn’t forgiven however rebuilding that trust becomes so much easier accepting that and opening up to the person/people I hurt. The narcissist usually knows they can prevent xyz going forward, and the other party is prepared on how to handle the situation in case it happens again. In my experience, communication is super beneficial in terms of receiving supply too. ESPECIALLY when the other person involved is also a narcissist, they know that pain of not receiving praise/admiration and we can understand each other moving forward.

Other narcissists I encourage you give your experience w this too bc I have seen very diff ones!

-If you want to implement characters who are ableist towards the narcissist, some things I would do are:

Show the narcissists internal monologue after the trauma and put your main focus on their emotions, the ableist person’s actions second. The weight of their words will be shown more in the trauma response, less in the moment (although super important). Focus the context on the narc crash, anxiousness, surprise, grandiosity overcompensation, etc.

Have other characters defend the narcissist, preferably being other narcissists because we are the ones who understand each other the most and back each other up no matter what

Show the importance of proper education and lack of education

Ask yourself how this is relevant to the plot and your character/characters

-Ask yourself, why does/doesn't my character want to be redeemed? Is it a symptom or is it genuine? Do they want to do better but don't recognize it? Why don't they recognize it? What symptoms are holding them back from xyz (social connections, self care etc.).?

Examples of answers to these questions:

My character doesn't want to be redeemed because they are convinced they are justified in their actions. They genuinely believe they did the right thing and need time to get out of that mindset. What's stopping them from getting out of that mindset is the delusion they are stuck in. Working on their trauma triggers can help lessen the blow and onset of psychosis. If they recognize they are wrong, my character is the type of person to crash and have suicidal urges. There is a slow build up before the crash that spirals into madness. What may help is getting supply from their friends/partners reassuring them that recognizing their bad actions are a first step followed by praise for things outside of the situation to bring them back to a solid baseline or narc high.

My character has a hard time socializing because when having an episode of grandiosity, they feel like they are better than everyone and no one is at their level. In episodes of insecurity, they feel like they don't deserve friends because they feel worthless. This is followed by perfectionism and seeking unwanted friendships, only to self-destruct and hurt those around them. Their ego impacts everything they do.

-SHAMEEEE is one of the most important emotions (in my experience) to write about so pls make that an important part of how your character views themselves!

-I know I have been only focusing on negative aspects, but also do highlight the positive aspects. For me, NPD has motivated me to work on myself. It isn’t the healthiest way, but given my circumstance, it is the healthiest I can do right now. Even my most wild and delusional thoughts can lead to great opportunities for self improvement. Thinking I’ll become famous? Gave myself tools to work on my executive dysfunction and be consistent with a project I love. Narc highs are also absolutely incredible. Finding folks who understand me and receiving praise has kept me going. I genuinely feel listened to. Narcissists are some of the nicest people you will ever meet because they know what it feels like to hate themselves. No matter how little empathy some of us have, that doesn’t mean we can’t acknowledge one another (even if my symptoms make me feel so singular in my experiences/contradict the point of acknowledging others).

More info to represent different kinds of NPDers:

Some common comorbidities are:

Autism Spectrum

Bipolar Disorder

Schizophrenia Spectrum

DID/OSDD

All Cluster B Disorders

Eating Disorders and Addictions

So many of us are autistic. SO MANY. This small survey statistic doesn’t scratch the surface but it’s important to look at!

As an autistic person myself, I feel like a lot of the trauma I faced growing up highly contributed to the development of NPD. I was othered, shunned, invalidated and shamed for just existing. Still am. That made me overcompensate with erratic attempts to be wanted and loved and just acknowledged in any way possible. I want to be SEEN.

If anyone wants an in depth post sharing my experiences with bipolar disorder and NPD I will absolutely do so if asked too!

How NPD affects my gender itself, dysphoria and sexuality:

In my experience as a fat trans man, a lot of my dysphoria is rooted in narcissism, internalized fatphobia and internalized toxic masculinity. I want to be the ideal boyfriend that is praised for existing. My male privilege definitely contributes to that want and I can acknowledge and dislike that part of myself. I expect this certain level of respect for being a man without realizing it sometimes and make sure to hold myself accountable when doing so. My dysphoria makes me feel inferior to other men because I don't "pass" and I feel the need to compete against them. The insecurity is consuming me and I do my best to be aware if I cross any lines.

What I have noticed about gender and sexuality in NPDers is that a lot yall are aroace and nonbinary! Like based off of my survey alone and people I know!

I asked one of my mutuals if it wanted to share his experiences of being a POC with NPD and it agreed!! He wanted to stay anonymous (aka super duper awesomely cool and mysterious) so I’ll just be posting the ss of what he said!

I do not have much to say on the response from my mutual because I feel like what it said speaks for itself and because we've spoken in private about the topic already! If you want to write an Asian character with NPD, this is really useful information!!!! One day I will make a post elaborating on being a POC with NPD myself. But, for now, this will help you understand an experience from an Asian perspective.

I hope this post wasn't all over the place and makes sense, if you have any more questions please ask away!

[blacklegsanjiii]

Thpughts on the RLS!Siblings?? 👀

Mostly about how funny would be some interactions with RLS + ASL siblings bc y'know, lusan. Like, they doing a "family dinner" kinda thing, but with much much caos and Luffy loving his boyfriend :)

Also, I love your posts! Your Misora fic is amazing, I reread at least two chapters everyday 😭❤

Ah, I'm glad you liked NBL! Its definitely a rare pair I'll love until the end of time.

As for my thoughts on RSL with an ASL family dinner: you're right it would be chaotic. Sabo and Koala are visiting and checking in when the Heart Pirates show up so Luffy throws a party because it's two family reunions in one. So Law is putting up with Luffy's shenanigans as Robin is catching Sabo up on the fact she, Sanji, and Law are also siblings. Sanji is cooking for the feast as Ace is talking with Shachi and Penguin.

At some point Law manages to corral the five of them into the Tang for a more private conversation. So the six of them are in the mess hall of the Polar Tang to talk, mostly about how RSL became siblings. Luffy is sitting on Sanji much to Law and Sabo's annoyance, Ace is laughing as he sits next to Sanji who knows it's a losing battle on every end for him. Robin is giggling as she sits between Law and Sabo, Luffy immediately starts playing with Sanji's hands.

Law throws a room out but is promptly fended off by Robin's devil fruit and Sanji does kick Law in the shin.

Sabo threatens to remove the cook from life if he does anything to hurt Luffy. Sanji has questions about why Sabo phrased it like that because look at Sanji's brother and sister. Look at them Sabo.

Sanji's been threatened far worse for far less. And he says so. Do better Sabo.

Sabo is absolutely offended by Sanji's attitude towards his threat but Ace has absolutely lost it and Law has given up to join his sister and Luffy in giggling as the blonds stare down each other. If they thought they were going to have a serious discussion they were wrong. Sanji is just like "I'm the only person in the room without a devil fruit and I can still set myself on fire" which makes Sabo look at Luffy in disbelief and ask where he found him. A fish shaped floating restaurant in the East Blue is not an acceptable answer apparently.

Robin says that she and Law found Sanji in the North Blue before that. Law hums and says that maybe the North Blue was good for something, despite sending Sanji to the East Blue and Robin to the Grand Line and keeping him there but Robin points out he got to keep Bepo. Law says he lost all three of his families but at least he got the bear in the most sarcastic tone.

Luffy asks what he means so Law talks about Amber Lead and his home town, Rosinante who adopted him and then sacrificed himself for him, and then Sanji and Robin. The glare Robin and Sanji get is very familiar and Robin pats Law's shoulder and off handedly mentions the three buster calls she's survived and Sanji points out he and Luffy were there for two of them. Robin acknowledges that despite Law's very, very tired look.

"I stabbed myself in the face to prove to Shanks I was tough, but I was aiming for my eye." Luffy says as he plays with Sanji's fingers.

"How did he convince you to be with him?" Law asks Sanji with despair.

"He refused my refusal." Sanji deadpans.

"Have you tried killing him?" Ace asks. "That's what Sabo and I used to do before we gave in."

"I tried killing myself." Sanji shrugs as Luffy immediately pinches his wrist in punishment for his phrasing making him hiss in pain.

"Yeah, you broke your back kicking me and Nami out of the way of an avalanche and I had to dig you out." Luffy grumbles.

"That's on you Captain, you could have left him there." Robin smiles.

"I would have." Law agrees before he looks at Sanji. "You broke your back?"

"Mhm, fought the next day." Sanji answers as everyone stares at him except Luffy. "Thanks for saving my boyfriend and his brother by the way." Sanji waves of the looks easily.

"Yeah, no problem. Figured you had all died and he didn't need that too." Law nods.

"Our apologies." Robin says.

"None of you guys are allowed to die." Luffy orders them all. They all agree easily.

[sasster]

Bloodbath

I wrote this and I convinced myself I could go to sleep without posting it, and that was just a silly thing I told myself. If you see typos, no you don’t mind your business In which we see even MORE of what life was like for Dr. Lycaon in the before times.

tw: blood, death, general mayhem

Another trip to the past, Time Hopper?

—

Of course tending to the dead is not enough of tribute to the Messiahs to leave room for one to shirk the rest of their responsibilities, and as much as the mortician would have loved more than anything to stay squirreled away in that basement morgue of his, he is still a member of a subjugating sect. And as such, he is still expected to pull his weight.

Get his hands dirty, so to speak.

Messiahs help him, he hates getting his hands dirty. But that’s the job.

The bar he walks into is supposedly a popular hangout spot for some rebel operation, pulled from some masterlist the empire pulled together that he could not possibly care less about. It is more importantly, for his purposes, a place where lowbloods tend to congregate in great numbers. Potentially because of the comfort provided by the aforementioned rebels.

Safety in numbers, they must think.

Fish in a barrel, the empire thinks.

What Thanat thinks is that that is a silly turn of phrase, considering who the ruling class is. No time to dissect idioms, though. There are fish in barrels to be shot.

A lot is left to be desired on tasks like this one, Thanat would be lying if he said he did not love the opportunity to take his subjug hat (facepaint) off, let his hair down (pull it into a tight bun to minimize the chances of catching stray splatters of blood in it), and put on his laughsassin hat (literally just plain clothes).  Of course, the gloves stay on during mass murder.

He has mixed feelings, sitting at the bar, without his facepaint on. On the one hand, having all the grease caked on his face all day is typically a textural nightmare. On the other, his naked face is now prone to the outside world without that layer of protection.

Oh how he hates to feel exposed.

So he sits at the bar, sharp eyes, concealed by bronze contacts, scanning for marks, feeling a heavy mix of free and naked.

It is as crowded as he was warned when first sent on his way, and that means that there are several trolls in the lot that would suit him and his needs. It was annoying that they wouldn’t just send one of the big guys with a club to go swinging at the unwitting masses, but he supposes that if you have a laughsassin at your disposal, you’re going to use them.

Shame that it has to be him, he feels his stomach lurch at the sight of the trolls rubbing elbows and dancing on each other.

Filthy.

Among the crowd are a burly looking blue blood that stands a good head or so above the gaggle of lowbloods that surround her, a stock bronze blood trying and failing to chat up a disinterested hemo anon, and a similarly built bronze blood seated alone in a booth. Excellent marks if he ever saw any. The mortician takes a pen from his pocket, one that he borrowed on his way in, between his thumb and middle fingers. Even through the protection of his glove, he can feel the grime of it attempt to assault him.

“You would think that thing was going to bite you, the way you’re looking at it.”

The voice that addresses him comes from, surprisingly, directly in front of him and he has to refocus to see the jade blood seated next to him at the bar, he was too busy finding his marks to make niceties before now.

“Ah, yes. I just remembered that it was out of ink, I would have liked to write something down.” He feigns disappointment, twirling the pen between his fingers now. “Shame.”

“You wanted to write, at a bar?” They ask, incredulous. Over their shoulder a purple blooded bouncer, traitor that he is to the messiahs, begins to make his way seamlessly through the crowd.

“Inspiration strikes on its own timing.” He offers, almost sheepishly.

What a rare sight, an uncloistered jade hanging out on the surface like this. Coupled with the purple bouncer and the blue muscle, this place must actually be one of those underground rebel locations.

Way too obvious.

”Right. Still a strange place to do it. Let me get you a drink.”

Thanat’s eye twitches imperceptibly, who are they to question him, and he shrugs.

“Maybe so. Forgive me, but I am waiting on a friend before I start.”

The jade sucks their teeth. “You a lightweight?”

“Something like that.”

He didn’t need to go making friends and potentially enjoying the company of someone that was about to meet the end of their life.

Now that’s just depressing.

Before long, the bouncer is at his side, staring at him with wide eyes and a mouth clamped shut. The jade next to him raises a brow as a wordless exchange is held between the two purple bloods.

A hair tie, a wallet, and a phone join Thanat’s disgusting collection and the bouncer is back off to man the door.

“Not your friend, I gather?” His neighbor, insufferable as they are, asks, doing their best to get a look at what was handed off.

Thanat pockets them all, fighting against himself to ignore how upsetting it is to have them contact his clothes. “No.” He turns his attention to the bartender now, who was just on the way to take drink orders. “May I borrow a pen?”

The bartender hands over a pen that sat behind his ear at the same time the unmistakable sound of a club bashing into something hard and wooden echoes over the music and chatter.

What timing that guy has, he didn’t even have time to disapprove of the thin sheet of sweat that coats his latest acquisition.

“There he is.” He says as he rises to his feet and joins the bartender behind the bar.

“Hey, what are you doing– ” Annoying, nosey thing that the jade blood was, didn’t even get the protest out before the bartender made quick work of snapping their neck and dropping them unceremoniously to the floor.

Between that and the threatening sound of a club slamming against the door, a heavy sting of silence blankets the crowd as worried and panicked glances are shared between the patrons.

Five items, five trolls, Thanat stretches himself to guide them with ease. He knows their movements like the back of his hand. Before total mayhem breaks out, while the patrons are still gathering their witts, the bouncer situated by the door takes out a handful more of the unsuspecting lowbloods, the mortician finding his concealed daggers suitable for the occasion and in the same instant the blueblood has done away with her gaggle of little ones, the ones that clung to her for safety all evening, with brute strength alone.

A mixture of different low and mid hues paint the floor and that is when all goes to hell. Chaos erupts, the betrayals so monumental that no one knows who to trust and immediately a brawl breaks out.

In the meantime, Thanat busies himself behind the bar, throwing together a quick gin and tonic, while the bartender fends off anyone that gets too close to him.

The solitary bronze blood had on him a firearm that merely gets put to use for buffaloing. Guns are hardly any fun, after all, even if the name of the game is fish in a barrel. The other sports a pair of brass knuckles that make them anything but a fair fight.

In all of this, Thanat can’t help but think about how easy it is to revert a troll back to their true nature. It only takes a little bit of violence.

Pacifism on Alternia is a joke.

It is only a matter of time before trolls are tearing each other apart, Thanat’s puppets pick up the stragglers, and any poor soul that had the presence of self to just go running out the door would meet the business end of a club. Now it is just a waiting game.

He stirs his drink idly as he watches it all unfold.

Simple creatures.

Then all that remains, with the smell of blood heavy in the air, are his puppets, well, four of them, one of his bronze bloods met a grizzly end when the leg of a bar stool was turned into a stake, staring at each other with wide eyes. All of them breathing heavily

Thanat takes a sip from his drink.

“I would say that I could not have done it without you,” he flashes a row of sharp teeth in a quick smile. “But that would be a lie. I am, however, appreciative of your assistance.”

He does not return their faculties to them, that would be a fool's mistake, but he does make three of their deaths very quick by utilizing the bouncer and his blood caked daggers on them.

And then there were two and this time when Thanat smiles, it forces his eyes into a squint.

“Terribly sorry, but my friend outside will be itching to get a kill himself.”

[regionalpancake]

Character ask game!

For Seven:

What’s the lie your character says most often? What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

For Soji: What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

For Seven:   What’s the lie your character says most often?

Any shade of “I’m ok / I’ll be fine / I don’t need help / I can do it by myself”, which makes sense not only in light of her past in the Collective, but also because of the people on Voyager who model that behaviour for her (cough Janeway cough)

What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

Had an amazing chat with @curator-on-ao3 and @procrastinatorproject about this one, and I reckon there must be some pretty dark xB humour. Something about humour making a shared trauma lighter, easier to process or less taboo to openly discuss. I (hopefully) looked at that in my Hugh fic Crow’s Feet :

“Hugh laughed.  // He laughed at the smell of barbecue from a dead man. He laughed at the bed he couldn’t sleep in it. He laughed at himself holding his face together in the shower and the fact that an arm that he didn’t even have anymore still hurt every day. // He laughed at the absurdity of the pain. // At the banality of the suffering. // And the laughing didn’t stop any of it hurting, but it did suddenly hurt less.”

One of the bits of (problematic sci-fi fav) Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein that always stuck with me, was when the biologically-human-but-raised-by-aliens character laughs for the first time.

“I’ve found out why people laugh. They laugh because it hurts so much … because it’s the only thing that’ll make it stop hurting”

The whole section is here, and feels very 'Seven' to me. Seven and the other xB’s have been through so much, a lot of which would be just unspeakable levels of suffering to the average Federation citizen. Having a community of people to share and process that traumatic history with, to know that you’re not alone, must help. 

Please imagine an post-reclimation xB with a Starfleet doctor in Lower Decks animation style:

Doctor: Have you taken in any of the sights since you arrived? I recommend the Klingon opera - those costumes? I couldn’t tear my eyes away! xBs: Bet I could. Doctor: … Doctor: … Doctor: Well I Think We’re All Done Here For Today

For Soji: What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

Of course there’s the Data-head-tilt™️ but the more interesting and horrifying answer to think about for this one is MADDOX (*muffled screaming*). What it must be like for Soji knowing that her personality was handmade? Did Maddox programme everything or was there algorithms involved that he just sort of tweaked as he went? Poor Soji. I love this narratively, and I loathe that they threw it all out the window in Season 2.

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

I think she might be invited to do a talk with the hope that she’d speak on Synth Experience, or the implications of the lifting of the Synth ban. But really Agnes would be a better candidate for that, and Soji’s only very new to her understanding of Synths anyway. I think instead she’d speak on her specialism/ her research from the Borg Reclamation Project:

“Reclaimed Identity - An Exploration of Emerging Romulan Folkways in the BRP” And I would have a front row seat 🤓😎

✨Send me a Picard character and I'll answer some of these WEIRDLY SPECIFIC BUT HELPFUL CHARACTER BUILDING QUESTIONS ✨

[ingravinoveritas]

Hi Amy, I'm the cursed anon who asked Neil lol (and I guess I'll stay anon for all my life after what happened today). I just wanted to thank you for what you wrote. I was sure my ask would have reached your blog somehow, alas. I don't know what to say, I'm mortified, it's been a rather hard day for me, since I felt completely misunderstood and belittled by someone I looked up to. I'm sorry because I must have phrased my ask in a weird way, an even "creepy" one, it seems.. By the way, I'm so glad you didn't find anything creepy in that, because I don't know for the life of me what I said that was perceived that way. I spent the entire day thinking about it and, at the same time, I tried to distract myself from shame. I don't know how to describe it, but this answer made me question so many things, about my mental health too, and I definitely didn't need that. He could have just said that he didn't quite understand what I meant, instead he only made me feel stupid and fed me to the lions. I mean, of course I know that season 2 is wrapped for example, I just wanted to tell him that maybe this sort of casting might be a future problem for season 3, and that I hope it won't be an issue for season 2, even though I saw many people turning up their nose already. (As I also bloody know that David Tennant and Michael Sheen are actors playing a part, evidently this is not what my concerns were!) I really don't know how to better explain it, English is a hard language to convey things sometimes. Neil doesn't speak any other language than it, and it shows honestly, because he doesn't know how hard it is for someone who is not native; me asking that might have been an impulsive decision, but I really tried to do my best with the language, it was hard, and it's like he pretended he didn't understand nevertheless. I don't know, I'm so disappointed by such a response. I thought it was more likely that he just read and didn't answer, but that condescending response? I didn't expect that. I'm sorry that I made him so sour/sharp/harsh (I don't know which adjective is the more appropriate in this case, and it drives me crazy that it can take so little to be misinterpreted, that's what I was referring to) because evidently I must have offended him or hit a nerve, which was not my intention. I might have been stupid to ask that, but if the ask was so annoying to him, it's not like he was obliged to answer it and being so cruel at the point to completely distort its meaning. Do I regret it? I do, but maybe without all of this, I wouldn't have ever seen this side of him, and I'm for the truth, even if it always tastes bittersweet, so.. Good to know, I guess. 

Sorry for ranting! Oh my god, I didn't realise, it's just that it's still an open wound to me. Coming back to you, I wanted to tell you that even if you might not agree with me (you have all the right not to), your response is actually the kind I expected from a man of power who is twice my age (just saying). Thank you for always being so considerate and tactful, you really did made me feel a little better. I wish there were more people like you in the world, I mean it.

(Sorry for the disappeared ask, I deleted the account after sending it, thinking that it would have stayed in your inbox once it was there.. Well, I was wrong haha. I'm going to delete it after you answer then, I had reactivated it just because you turned the anons off and I wanted to thank you instantly <3)

Hi, Anon. Oh, I am so sorry for what you went through yesterday. I'm also floored to have you reach out to me, as I didn't even realize you were aware of my blog, but I thank you for doing so and sharing your thoughts/feelings with me.

It saddens me so greatly to know how much Neil's response has hurt you, and how it has affected your mental health. If the comments on my post about what happened are indication, however, you are definitely not the only one who felt that his response was not okay. What you said about feeding you to the lions was something one of my followers also mentioned, and whether Neil intended it or not, I would have to agree with that assessment.

The fact is, Neil is a writer. He knows how powerful words can be, and how suggestive. So by calling your question "creepy" in that first sentence, he is creating the lens through which the reader is going to view your question. And so what I would say is that two things can be true here, which is that 1) You have every right to feel the concerns you do, but trying to engage Neil about it was probably not the best idea; and 2) Neil has the right to feel/say what he wants, but deciding to answer your question the way he did instead of simply ignoring it was also probably not the best idea.

I don't know if you've been on his blog at all today, but Neil actually went into a bit more detail about his rationale, re: the use of the word "creepy" in the comments on this post, as part of a back-and-forth exchange with another fan who again brought up the issue of nepotism. I thought I would highlight these two comments in particular:

What I was struck by in the comment on the left was two specific things: 1) Neil's mention of the "undertones" to your question. Going by what you wrote, Anon, as well as the message that you've written here, I do not think there were any undertones to your Ask--with the possible exception of calling Neil's character into question (which, if he was hoping to squash that, it is now beyond ironic that his response to you has achieved the exact opposite); and 2) That someone who has been described as "so Tumblr" and "Neil gets it" would somehow be oblivious to how venomous people can be on social media, especially when encouraged by the creators of their favorite works, and why someone would therefore not want to make themselves a potential target. In just the first sentence of his response to you, however, Neil proved exactly why you were right to use a burner account.

In terms of the comment on the right, we see Neil draw a false equivalence between your question and people criticizing him for casting POC actors in Sandman. This was (in my opinion) Neil doing this fan what he did to you, which is twist around what they were saying as a means of deflection and avoiding answering the question that was actually being asked, which was about nepotism. The other irony for me is him talking about people accusing him of having a secret agenda, while he was the one doing the same thing to you. The only difference is that his assumption ended up having serious consequences, as we are now seeing.

I think you did hit a nerve, Anon, but--as strange as it may sound--I don't think it had anything to do with you. My feeling is that there is something going on with Neil and he is using Tumblr as an outlet--much in the same way that Michael used Twitter as an outlet in 2019/2020. So I do not think you are "cursed" or "made" Neil be salty/harsh--I think he was already this way and took whatever is happening with him out on you. Because if everything was absolutely fine--if what you were mentioning in your question was totally ridiculous and Neil was entirely unbothered by it--I do not think he would have answered it, nor would he still have been engaging this fan about it for hours afterward.

I know this probably won't be of much comfort, and I am sorry. English is not my second language, but I am autistic, and I relate very deeply to what you described about searching so hard for the right words (which is probably why it takes me forever to answer my Anons) because of not wanting to be misunderstood. And I know very well what it's like to have someone you so greatly admired turn out to be not at all what you expected, especially when everyone else's perception of that person is so wildly different.

It is for that reason that I can understand fans on here and Twitter rushing to defend Neil, not wanting to feel that someone they love could possibly do anything wrong. "Neil is a human being" is a comment I've seen frequently...but if we are going to say that Neil is human, then that means he is imperfect. It means he makes mistakes. And it should not be controversial to say this. I've also seen people in the aftermath of this saying how kind Neil is to the fans...but his response to you was unkind. Setting someone up to be a target is not kind. Neil has so many people who write into him who are dealing with mental health issues and concerns, and at best his response to you was thoughtless...but at worst, it sends a message to other fans that they, too, could become targets for absolutely no reason. And while I do not believe that Neil owes the fans anything, having an awareness of the power he wields and a sense of basic human decency does not seem like much to ask.

You do not ever have to apologize for ranting to me, Anon. I'm so glad that what I wrote in my other post helped you to feel better, even if just a little. I am by no means perfect--far from it--but I've been in enough fandoms and had enough heartaches to know that I would want to do anything I could to spare someone else from going through the things I went through. The shame here is not yours for asking a question that yielded a disproportionate overreaction from Neil--the shame belongs to the people who piled onto you because of it.

I want you to know that I was truly touched by your compliments, and that you felt comfortable enough to be so vulnerable with me here. I'm sending you lots of love, as well as the hope that we can continue to have honest discussions about these subjects. A lot of people are with you, and believe me when I again tell you that you are not alone. xx

[leggerefiore]

I'm a bit late to the party, but I did notice you were asking for spooky requests. I have a couple, that I'll send in separate asks. I was rereading your Coraline AU stories again, and wondered... Since you did a happy ending with Ingo and Other Emmet, could you do a bad end with Emmet and Other Ingo? Like Other Ingo does get to sew buttons on S/O's eyes. What happens then?

jsjsdnd upon a reread myself, since its been over a year now since I wrote that, the ending of the ingo one is already heading in that direction so I'm just continuing from there. I also feel like I write them really differently now?

cw: yandere, coraline au, poly (ingo/reader, emmet/reader), dark content,

original post here

Emmet's grasp was painfully tight as he restrained you. Ingo hovered in front of you, black buttons almost like an endless void of nothingness. The golden needle shimmered menacingly, reminding you of what was soon to come. It was paired horrifyingly with his firm yet loving hand holding your chin steady. He obviously did not want you to move as much as his brother. You had stopped struggling, now frozen with terror.

“Don't worry, dearest, my hand is steady and trained,” he promised with a calming tone, one you had to resist the distressing effects, “I decided to change the colour of your buttons if you don't mind. Since my dear brother has returned and agreed to share, grey seemed more complimentary.” You felt tears burning your eyes. Ingo ticked his tongue. This would not do. It would get in the way of his sewing and make a bloody mess of your face. His hand came to gently wipe your tears.

“Relax, darling!” Emmet cooed, “We are going to be together foreverrrrr.”

The needle finally came to pierce your skin and a scream left your throat.

~

Emmet had taken time off from work again to focus on your transitory period and rekindle his relationship with his brother. You were having a very difficult time within his brother and his dimension. Begs and pleas came to cut away the buttons over your eyes, but neither twin relented. The safest, happiest place for you was within their dimension. No one else could dare interact with you, and they could grant all your wishes.

Unfortunately, that meant he and Ingo would need to eat more of their prey, but your happiness came over everything. Ingo was currently trying to get you to eat as you sat at the table with endless dishes that you definitely enjoyed sitting all over. It hurt to see you reject everything and fall into soft cries over your buttons. Poor, poor darling. Ingo was growing frustrated and distressed over his failures. Emmet decided to intervene.

With prey, Ingo was always too soft. How he survived so long with Emmet gone was astonishing. No matter, the younger twin would be careful to make sure you ate and thrived while here. It was unfortunate that he needed to be the firm one. He truly did not want to.

You ate after he intervened.

~

There was an obvious joy that swelled in Ingo's chest when you gave up your strange period of upset and began to adjust to your life. Emmet had returned to work, leaving you alone with him. He worried he would not be able to care for you properly without Emmet's support, yet he had managed. Slowly – so, so slowly – your walls had come back down. You let him hold you and speak soft and loving phrases to you once more. His heart felt overcome with warmth. No more crying and begging and pleading to free you from the buttons and this perfect world. He sighed.

“See? This is what you wanted, my love,” Ingo held your left hand delicately as you sat in his lap. The golden band shimmered beautifully to compliment your skin. A band that signified love and dedication. You would never leave, not like Emmet had. You would not leave him alone for so many years with only the company of sparse prey. No, you were here to stay. Emmet granted him that. Even in his childish jealousy, he recognised his dear brother needed company. Both knew loneliness was too cruel.

You barely shifted, unable to see with how the buttons blinded you. Everything you did or wanted had to be guided by Ingo or Emmet until you grew enough muscle memory to recall where everything was without seeing. You realised this was a way for them to blind their prey to their true forms as something monstrous and inhuman, but you were not sure why they insisted on keeping you that way. Fear, you assumed. Both were much too similar in their methods. Emmet tricked you out here to his “childhood” home to keep you isolated from everyone in his possessive fit. Blinding you made it difficult for you to escape this prison. Something sick twisted inside you at the thought of Ingo enjoying doting on you, too.

Everything was set against you. Leaning into him, you emptily nodded. Ingo pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, always so chaste. You wanted to gag. Desperately, so desperately, you wished you had listened to the Emmet of the past and never returned to this place. Ingo let out a contented sigh.

Maybe, one day, you would give into their whims and find some disgusting happiness in this twisted world.

Or, if you were feeling dumbly hopeful, you would escape here. The buttons would be gone from your eyes and allow you to see again.

The death grip around your waist told you the former was more likely than the latter.

As did a sickeningly cheerful call from a returning Emmet.

[wawamouse]

@merelyafigment (I’m just going to make a separate post to respond to your replies from the last ask) because my ass canNOT break up replies into smaller chunks.

Well, that would definitely explain Chico's early lack of sleeves, a la Miguel, hee. I may also just want to make Miguel have to face the Chico of it all even more - he's having "okay, yes, sure, he's handsome or whatever" thoughts even while Chico is NOT beautifully clean-shaven, he can very much feel that it's a dude all over him, etc. (Thank you for letting me talk at you. I consider you the go-to Chico expert, my apologies.) … I don't think I can handle envisioning flashier, more peacocky Chico. YES. Of course, the second Miguel suggested a change, Chico would maybe react all pissed off at the implication of changing to suit Miguel. … but then quietly, like a week later, Chico would do whatever it was and just claim it was for another reason. (Good time to use the "I fucked up while shaving, so I just shaved it all off. Not because you asked!!") (I feel Miguel might solve the Alonzo-inspired styling choices issue, depending on how sober and present Miguel is. He could smirk and make a taunting remark once, and send Chico back to pre-Alonzo style.)

Hee~~ I don’t mind the discussion at alllll (I also am really curious about and interested in hearing your interpretations!). I like the idea of Miguel having to face “the Chico of it all” (love that phrase😂). I guess to put it another way, Chico reflecting El Cid or Morales is also in a way how he is deciding what masculinity looks like. Under El Cid, it’s that thuggish vibe which Morales looks down on, so Chico sort of drifts more toward a sleeker looked in later seasons (adding jewelry, wearing more black, while retaining casual elements like his over shirts and also plaid from earlier seasons) (Morales is also a mix of sleek and casual with his tracksuits and whatnot). I suppose if Chico started to follow/reflect Alonzo, he would probably continue in the vein of Morales’s influence (because, duh, he's not going to dress like Torquemada outright) but possibly start adding more patterns like vertical stripes—items that would’ve been in fashion in the early 2000s, anyway—and veering slightly away from the earthy colors he usually sticks to, maybe incorporating mauve or the likes. (Miguel would definitely shut down any shift to something more than that)

Hahah, I agree that Chico would definitely initially react as "Pff who gives a fuck what you think!?” at a suggested change (and then yes, quietly do it. But not for Miguel! It's unrelated). I imagine the flipside of that could be that Miguel actually asks Chico to grow the goatee back?? 👀😳 A very strange request indeed—one that Miguel is reluctant to examine and/or explain himself (bc it's much easier to ask Chico to get rid of the goatee for Practical reasons or something). But from a certain perspective—I guess it would depend on how queer (for lack of a better way to phrase it) you want to write Miguel as in a given fic—I could see Miguel thinking the facial hair is hot. Like, at the core of it is: he’s a man who likes men (or at least Chico in this situation). Now add on his background, that is, having grown up in Latino gang culture, with heavily entrenched ideas of masculinity, esp performative masculinity. I think if he got to a point where he accepted he liked men, he would also find that masculinity attractive. Not to say if you’re not rocking facial hair, you're not masculine (that would be the self-own of the century lol), just that: Chico’s goatee was definitely a signature part of his appearance for a while and it did make him look tougher. I just think it’d be interesting to explore a characterisation of Miguel who is/who can be* really into the feeling of a dude all over him. If that makes sense?!

*Admittedly, aside from the fics I've written that take place WAY post-canon, I myself tend to write the Miguel who doesn’t care to examine things too much beyond that he likes Chico/like being with Chico. But I also think a post canon Miguel (post giving up/ giving in to Alonzo) could really just throw caution to the wind and lean into any impulse—although maybe he still can’t put it into words. Like, he wants Chico to grow the goatee back and his reasoning is basically “idk, it was kind of hot” (cue teasing from Chico). (Maybe the rest is subconscious anyhow—just vague curiosity about hooking up with Chico when he’s got that tougher look! And why does the notion make him sort of horny in a different way??)

[aquadestinyswriting]

Titan Modern AU- Chapter Three

Summary: Meredith gets a telling off for staying in the office past clocking-off time. Starhammer offers her a lift to her new place and she gets some time to settle in. Two days later, Detective O'Toreguarde returns to the Consulate to get that witness statement.

Words: 1,646

Tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes @warriorbookworm, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @philosophika, @the-down-upside-finch, @hippiewrites

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Notes: 'Haud yer wheesht!' is one of my favourite Scots phrases. It basically just means 'shut up'. Tone can indicate the swearing in the middle when required.

“Gruksdottir, weren’t ye supposed to clock off at five-thirty?” Lieutenant Starhammer frowned as he walked past the computer in the main reception area, noticing that his new constable was sitting at it. The clitter-clatter of keys being hit in rapid succession paused as the short woman looked up from the screen,

“Writing up an incident report, sir.” she replied, ducking her head back down and resuming. Starhammer huffed out a sigh,

“About the shooting that occurred earlier?” he asked pointedly. Meredith nodded, not looking up from her screen this time,

“Indeed sir.” she confirmed, her tone distracted, “I had to leave my post to render medical aid to a Toreguarde Investigative Branch officer.” she added. 

“Gruksdottir, ye’re aware that it’s now ten minutes til six, aye?” 

“I am aware, sir.”

Starhammer growled, marched over to the desk and put a hand in front of Meredith’s face, blocking the screen,

“Then why are ye still here?” he ground out. Meredith frowned, the first time Starhammer had seen the expression on her face, and looked up at her commanding officer,

“Because I need to finish the report, sir.” she remarked, confused. Starhammer simply shook his head, grabbed the mouse, saved the document and closed it. Meredith pursed her lips,

“I was still working on that.” she grumbled. Starhammer shook his head,

“And now I’m ordering ye to go and bloody well clock off.” he retorted. Meredith spun the chair so she could send the lieutenant a confused glare,

“I did clock of at five-thirty, sir –” she didn’t get any further as Starhammer groaned, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose,

“That doesn’t make it better, Gruksdottir.” he sighed “In fact that makes it worse.” he added. He squinted one eye open, just in time to catch his constables’ bewildered expression before she schooled it. He sucked in a breath, lowered his hand and sat on the corner of the desk,

“Look, I understand that, back in Fangthane, things’re a bit more hectic, and I’m sure most officers are forced to work a bunch of unpaid overtime to meet deadlines set by politicians that have no idea how the world actually functions.” he noted, “However, that is definitely not the case here, and I’d rather ye actually went home after clockin’ off.” he held up a hand as Meredith opened her mouth,

“I wasn’t done, haud yer wheesht. While I do appreciate the enthusiasm, I find that writing reports as soon as an incident has occurred often leads to officers forgetting key details as they’ve not had a chance to fully internalise what happened. Make some notes, aye, but let yourself sit with it for at least a day before writing up a full report.” he suggested.

Meredith’s annoyed frown lifted into something a little more thoughtful as she took in what the lieutenant had just said. After a moment, she nodded,

“That makes sense, sir.” she said, moving to switch the computer she’d been using off. She paused momentarily,

“Sir, did Lady Frigidwake get back to you about lodgings for myself?” she asked. Starhammer beamed at her and nodded,

“That she did, lass. Actually, it’s a good thing ye were still here. Apparently a room just became available in a lodging house on Serpentine Road. It’s not too far from here, about a ten minute walk or so.”  he replied happily. Meredith nodded and finished turning the computer off, grabbed her Shanter and stood,

“Very well, sir. I’ll grab my things and check out of the Crabbit Sow, then make my way there.” 

Starhammer chuckled,

“Not by yourself, you’re not.” he told her, “I’ll give ye a lift to the inn, let ye grab yer things, and help ye get settled into your room.” he said, bringing out his keys and jangling them. Meredith, realising she wasn’t going to be winning any arguments with her Lieutenant, simply shook her head,

“Again, ye don’t need to go to such trouble.” she grumbled, “But I’ll not turn down the offer of a lift when it’s given.” 

An hour later, Meredith was standing in the room she would be calling home for the foreseeable future, looking out at the view over the canals from the window of her kitchenette. Starhammer smiled as he finished signing off the last bit of paperwork and turned to his constable,

“Right then, I’ll let ye get properly settled for the night. If ye need anything at all, here’s the number for my house phone. Dinna panic if one of the wee ones answers it, just ask if their grandpa’s available.”  he told her. 

Meredith repressed the urge to roll her eyes as she took the slip of paper and placed it on the counter,

“I don’t need babied, sir.” she told him. Then she smiled, “I do, however, appreciate what you and Lady Frigidwake have done for me.” she added. Starhammer beamed at her,

“Ye’re very welcome, lass. One last thing, before I pop off home to get assaulted by a three and five year old, when that T.I.B officer comes ‘round to get yer statement, bring them into the office. If the shooter’s who I think it is, I have some pertinent questions to ask them in return.” he said. Meredith frowned,

“Sir?” she asked. Starhammer shook his head,

“Stuff to do with High Command and the King’s Guard, hen. I’ll fill ye in when that officer pops by. In the meantime, I expect to see ye at 9am tomorrow and no earlier.” he said firmly. Meredith suppressed the urge to salute, though she did stand a little more at attention,

“Aye, sir.” she replied. Starhammer rolled his eyes, but said nothing as he grabbed his coat and finally left. Meredith cocked her head to one side, then walked back to the window she’d been looking out of. She watched the hustle and bustle at the docks below, pondering her Lieutenant’s words. She stroked her beard thoughtfully, then shook her head, turned away from the view and set about sorting out the shopping that Starhammer had insisted they pick up on the way.

True to her word, two days later, Meredith spotted the dark skin and brown hair of Detective O’Toreguarde approaching the Consulate entrance just as the nearby clock tower chimed 1pm. Meredith relaxed from attention and waited for the Detective to approach. 

Elowyn allowed herself a small smile as she noticed the Fangthanian woman relax when the clock tower chimed out the time. Discipline like that boded well for conversation ahead. She just hoped that the constable was able to remember what she saw the day of the shooting. Elowyn shoved the memory of her partner’s leg bleeding profusely through her hands to the back of her mind. Time to get that statement, then do whatever it took to catch the man who’d shot him.

The Torejar officer nodded in greeting as she stepped up beside the Fangthanian woman,

“Good afternoon, Constable Gruksdottir. I’m here to take down that statement if you’ve time?” she asked. 

Meredith nodded, and gestured to the door of the Consulate,

“Of course, Detective. I’m on lunch for the next hour so we’ve plenty of time. However, my superior officer has asked to speak with you regarding the incident we were both involved in.” she stated, walking towards the door and pulling it open. She gestured for Elowyn to walk in ahead of her.

Elowyn frowned, confused, walking to the door but not quite through it,

“Did your superior officer say why, Constable?” she asked warily. Meredith shook her head,

“Not in any explicit terms. I believe, however, it was to do with the individual who shot your partner.” she explained.

Elowyn pursed her lips. It wasn’t like the Stronghold Guardian Corps to insert itself in Toreguarde internal affairs, even if the man responsible for the chaos a couple of days ago was Fangthanian. Then she remembered why she and Breakwood had been chasing him. She sighed and stepped into the blessedly air-conditioned lobby,

“Very well, in the interests of maintaining some cooperation between our states, I can explain some details to your commanding officer.” she said. She looked back at Meredith as the other woman walked into the lobby alongside her. She suppressed her smile at how attractive the constable looked in that slate-grey uniform. Even the beard was somehow attractive on her. Too bad she was a witness and, thereby, completely out of bounds. 

Meredith, seemingly oblivious to the slightly too-long look the detective was giving her, walked on ahead, leading Elowyn across the marble-floored lobby and up the majestic mahogany staircase. It didn’t take long for both women to reach the upper floor and find the door leading to Lieutenant Starhammer’s office. Meredith rapped on the oak surface, then stood at relative ease as she waited for a response.

“Aren’t ye supposed to be on lunch, Gruksdottir?” Starhammer called from the other side. Meredith merely shook her head,

“Detective O’Toreguarde from the Toreguarde Investigative Branch has arrived to get that statement, Lieutenant.” she replied. Elowyn quirked an eyebrow at the pronunciation of Lieutenant, but didn’t say anything. There was a grumble, the slight screech of a chair being pushed across the floor, then the steady tromp of a decidedly rotund man walking to the door. 

Lieutenant Starhammer opened the door with a little more force than he probably intended, Elowyn realised as she noticed the Constable stand a little more to attention as soon as he had done so. The old man’s eyes widened as he took in the short stature, dark skin and ruffled brown hair of the Torejar woman standing next to his sheepish-looking Constable. He quickly schooled his expression, shook his head and gestured to the sofas,

“Well come on in then.” he groused, stepping to one side to allow both women to walk into the office. 

[owned412]

Carpet part 3

I had told chris not to do it, to stay away from him, but I couldn’t stop him. He had been controlled to much in recent years. I gave him a kiss before he went to confront Scott, maybe to remind him of what was waiting for him back home. But that was 4 days ago now. And chris was back there under Scott’s feet again. I knew this because after half a day of chris being missing I received a text.

Chris was on his knees, a cock down his throat, and staring into the camera. The message just read “suprise”

The pictures kept coming, Chris choking on a foot, lovingly making out with the same foot, a full profile shot of him getting fucked into the ground on some old trashy rug. The final show was just chris, spread out on the ground, with his ass up, showing a battered hole.

The pictures haunted me, in everyone his stare seemed so….empty. His eyes were almost dead, save for a primal lust or fear that tinged them. I finally understood what Chris meant when we said he would just….obey. Like that prick could just turn off his autonomy.

I wanted to call the cops, to storm over there myself, but I don’t know where he was. I was an idiot and never asked, maybe hoping to just keep him out of chris’ mind. But now he was stuck there, being abused and I had been trapped.

However that wasn’t good enough for “Master Fagbreaker.” His last message sent me a link, to tumblr of all places. It said “follow every post and when you find the password. DM me and you can have him back.”

It was sick but…I had no choice. I already had a tumblr, I too had my own perversions I used to indulge and it didn’t take much time to find Scott. He had been busy, documenting the full break down of my boyfriend into nothing.

Chris was shaved and denuded, with Scott taking the time to slap him around and fuck his throat some more.

He was locked up in an ever smaller cage, Scott shrunk his raging hard on with the cold touch of an ice pack. After it was on he kicked him in the balls, and then made him beg for more.

It was like to used to get off too and part of me still did, leading to more self incriminations.

After the “faggot” was hairless, caged, and collared again, Scott went to town. Fucking him on a couch, facing out the window, making him chant “this Faggot is worthless” over and over again. Another video he simply made him bounce up and down on a dildo and stare into the camera, his locked up cock bouncing with it.

Later images simply had chris nuzzle up to Scott’s pits, moaning and breathing in saying how much he loved him and was sorry. The verbal parts repulsed me but the pits…..well I loved pits. Before I knew chris after I’d go to the gym and few guys would let me worship their pits and, after enough times, I might have turned out like chris. I didn’t though and chris was hot but not for his pits. I pushed the image out of my mind and continued.

The images got darker from there, chris getting his balls slapped and being made to beg for more, chris on a dildo again but with 3 shock collars on, both gyrating and moaning in between jerking in pain. Eventually Scott decided it was time to make a party of it, and the gang rape began.

I couldn’t see all of them but I counted at least 5 or 6 men other then Him, taking time to beat him, face fuck him, or “rail that faggot pussy”. One shot that got to me had chris getting fucked out of his mind while an offscreen man pushed his foot onto chris’ face, who worshiped and moaned. That foot would wind back and kick him multiple times but chris never stopped.

At the end of that last series the last picture was just chris, beaten, sweaty, and crumpled on the ground amongst a forest of male feet, ass arched up still, and over all of this was the phrase “Please Master let me come”

After days of this, watching the love of my life get mauled, I had the key and I entered the dms of this monster. I sent the key and said who I was.

“Send me a picture of You and faggot together” the message came back

I wanted to argue, to defend him, but I had to save him so I played along. Sending a picture from our 2nd date.

“Sweet picture, me and the faggot just finished our date too”

“Go fuck yourself,” I said in the messages, “tell me where he is.”

Nothing came back at first and then he said, “you come on my terms, you do me a favor and you can have the faggot back. Get that?”

“Sure” I sent back and he sent the address. I rushed there.

Knocking on the door, I stood there and waited. Nothing happened for a few moments until the door opened, revealing Scott shirtless and sweating.

“Just finished working out,” he said and smirked at me. He smelled good….fuckin really good. I ignored that thought and said, “where is chris?”

Scott gestured me in and took a seat at the couch. I just stood there, standing on the carpet I had watched my boyfriend get fucked by this man. He gestured for me to come and when i didn’t he said, “sit down, remember this is on MY terms.”

I complied sittings few feet away from him. he stretched out his arms, exposing those pits again.

“Where is chris,” I repeated and Scott answered simply, “in its box, the fag is resting. It’s had a hard training time.”

“I wanna see him,” I demanded and he reached with one arm and handed me a small controller.

“Press that and the fag will get shocked, then it’ll come crawling.” I didnt press the button, I would never do anything like that. He shrugged and said, “so did you appreciate the content?”

I glowered at him and he snickered, “oh come on man, I saw your blog. Old content maybe but you were a nasty bitch back then. You can hate me and still be honest.”

“You’re an abuser,” I said, “whatever fantasies I’ve had ever, they are nothing like this.”

He gave me a smug look and said, “we shall see.” I glared at him suspiciously and he continued, “I want a favor and it’s a simple favor. I get you for a few hours and after that’s done. If you want your little boytoy back, then fair enough.”

I sat back, shocked and concerned, “you want….me?” He looked at me and laughed, “and why not, you’ve got a hot body and good cock. The fag is fully broken and in, as you’ve seen. But I could enjoy you. And I bet you would too. I’m not gonna beat you or torture you, unless you want. I want to make you feel good.”

This was a trap, I knew that, but for Chris I had to. I had to, I just told myself. I nodded silently and said, “okay”

Scott smiled like a hyena and said, “good.” He pulled out a bottle of poppers and poured some on a bandana and handed them to me.

“In your mouth,” he said calmly and I hesitated. “Now,” he said more forcefully, “your a strong man not some fag. It’ll be good just do it.” And I did. The poppers started to swirl in my brain as Scott exposed his nearest pit, the smell just so fucking good. Poppered up and complying I came in closer and then Scott grabbed my head and forced it into his pits. The smell was overwhelming, so masculine, so powerful and that plus the poppers made me moan, like chris had so many times.

“That’s right boy,” sneered Scott in my ear, “I did my research, just stay in there and worship my fuckin pits.”

I did, for chris I guess. I rubbed my face in his delicious body and, instinctually started to grind on his leg, in between my 2 own.

“That’s right faggot,” he said, “don’t fight it, that fag can’t give you what you need. I can. No more thinking about cleaning the sweat off a Man after a workout, you can do that everyday with Me.” I moaned and started to thrust faster against his leg. I was so caught up in it that when I felt my pants being pulled down behind me, I almost jumped.

Scott caught my head and pulled me back in, me breathing in deeper and offering my ass up without thinking. A tongue started probing my hole, deeply and desperately. Lost in my pit-drunk stupor, I knew it was chris. Only he was so good at eating my hole. I offered my hole and more and chris complied, all while Scott oversaw all of this with his hand on the back of my head.

Suddenly he pulled my head back and looked me in the eyes, his intense stare boring into my soul. Hands holding my hair, he put the bottle under my nose and I inhaled, not sure why I did so easily.

The swirling fog of poppers crushed my brain, compounded by the faggit eating my hole at this MANS orders. He shoved me back into the pit.

“Lick faggot” he said and I did, licking, tasting and worshiping this delicious man while the faggot behind me pryed my hole open. Then it got worse as I felt to hands come up and grab my tits and start to work them carefully. I moaned like a bitch in heat, overwhelmed by all the sensations.

Scott grabbed my hair again and pulled me up, looking me in the unfocused eyes, “I know all of your weaknesses,” he said as his faggot cleaned out my hole and tweaked my nipples, “I can exploit them all day, all weekend, as long as I want.”

I couldn’t respond only softly moan out whatever pathetic last bit resistance I had left. He laughed and held out the bottle again. “Hit this again and you can have the other pit, but then you’ll suck my cock, and then I’ll fuck that tight hole of yours. You let me do this and you’ll be just another faggot.” He held out the bottle just out of reach and said, “do it faggot.” I did, it felt so good I just wanted more. After hitting it deeply again, he tightened the grip on my hair and looked me in the eyes, “I am Master Fagbreaker and You are a faggot.”

I responded mechanically, “You are Master Fagbreaker and I am a faggot.”

“Then it’s time to break you faggot,” he said and pulled me into his other pit. The sensation, the feeling of totally submitting, the thought of every horrible picture I had to watch being done again with me, all of it filled me up and made me feel something I hadn’t felt in years. I desperately breathed in Masters pit, hungrily humiliating myself for HIM. all the while the other faggot fondled my tits harder and harder while eating my ass….no my faggot pussy.

“When faggot A is done,” Master fagbreaker said in my ear, “Master is gonna fuck its new slave until it totally forgets who it was. You wanted your boy back, well guess what you got it and a new Master.” I grinder harder into nothing, impotently struggling for some release I would never get.

master pulled me out of his pit and without warning, forced me onto his crotch. That smelled too and it smelled so powerful. I started to rut again and the tongue left to be replaced by a finger and then 2. My faggot boyfriend finger fucked me as I worshiped the crotch of Master, who finally deigned to unzip his pants and free His cock. Hand still on my hair, he pulled me down all the way, forcing me to Gag and struggle, as my ex boyfriend finger fucked me.

my gag reflex was terrible, but Master seemed to enjoy it, especially as his other faggot continued to finger fuck my faggot pussy. I pictured myself, hairless, locked, and getting spit roasted like faggot A had been. i was so hot, so fucked, and so dazed that i was finally honest, i was jealous.

master pulled my head off His cock and slapped me, “This faggot can’t suck cock for shit apparently. But that’s fine. I’ll enjoy breaking in that throat. He got up and yanked me by the hair, pulling me off the couch as I whimpered. He jerked his head at faggot A who promptly sat back on the couch and out its legs up, pussy exposed. master pushed me on top of faggot A, the person i had loved, and he kicked my legs apart, exposing my faggot pussy.

“Now im gonna fuck that hole into a pussy,” Master said, “You faggots chant as you should. Teach our new faggot the lesson.”

Chris….faggot A looked me in the eyes, not blank like I thought but just totally obedient, and just said, “faggots obey.”

I looked him in the eyes as i felt the man who called himself Master square up to fuck me into submission. I could go, i could leave, I didn’t have to do this. But as Master pushed his cock into my pussy, Faggot A just repeated the Mantra, “faggots obey,” and I knew I couldn’t.

“FAGGOTS OBEY,” I said my eyes fixed on the broken slave I couldn’t fix. The man who broke him shoved his cock into my pussy and proceeded to break me. “FAGGOTS OBEY, FAGGOTS OBEY, FAGGOTS OBEY, FAGGOTS OBEY, FAGGOTS OBEY,” we chanted together, Master whooping and cackling at His conquest.

I was a faggot, faggots were meant to be broken. As Master picked up the pace, slamming his cock into my pussy over and over again I knew this was right. this was right and it would only ever be right if Master continued to break this faggot.

Masters thrusts intensified and he grabbed my hair again, yanking my head back. Still thrusting, he placed the poppers under my nose and i breathed in and kept breathing until i was told to stop. Pleasure and pain stopped meaning anything and as the only that mantra remained in my brain Master slammed his cock in one last time and claimed

My faggot pussy as his.

He pulled out of my ruined hole, hand still holding my hair, and threw me off

The couch and onto the floor, looking up i saw Master loom over me and look down in contempt.

“So faggot, what’s it gonna be?”

I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t, I just opened my mouth and looked at my new Master.

Master smirked and pulled out his phone, I stared into the camera as my fellow slave had. I would turn over all my info, even if I refused Master could make me. He could make me do anything. He snapped a picture and smirked one last time.

“The boys are gonna love you faggot.”

[ragewrites]

my younger sister died by suicide the week before her fifteenth birthday. as a twenty-five year old, your poem (fifteen speaks to twenty five) resonnated with me deeply. i've been re-reading it in the hours since i came across it, and i guess i just wanted to say thank you for writing it <3 it's a really beautiful piece and it feels very stark and powerful.

(also - and this is absolutely not a condemnation of you in any way - but my family try to say 'died by suicide' rather than 'committed suicide', as the only other time you would use the word 'committed' is in the context of a crime, which implies the person in question is a criminal rather than someone who was hurting.)

Firstly—all my love to your little sister. Whether it was peace or oblivion she sought, I hope she has found it.

Secondly: I will try to be as clear as possible with my words, so by the end this post might be rather lengthy. Apologies. Know that none of it is a rebuke, only a response to the latter half of your message.

Using the word ‘committed’ was a deliberate, conscious choice. Not because I was trying to apply, or rather imply, any kind of moral connotation to the act of suicide, but because I wanted to provide you—General ‘You’, Reader-You—with the context in which the poem was written. This context being, as I was celebrating my twenty-fifth birthday, my thoughts kept returning to a decade ago, when I nearly killed myself not even halfway through October.

I believed this information essential; as it is both sensitive and extremely private, however, I wanted to be succinct when providing it.

You, general, reader ‘you’, needed to know that the poem is a conversation between myself at fifteen and myself at twenty-five: you also needed to know that I almost killed myself before I could grow to be either of them. You needed to know these two things, no less, no more.

I chose the word “committed” because it was, to me, a diplomatic enough compromise between the blunt impact of I nearly killed myself and a phrase I personally loathe, I nearly took my own life. A diplomatic enough compromise which nonetheless preserved some of that sense of violence the word ‘kill’ has.

Because it is a violent act: the word itself is a Modern Latin construct meaning self-murder, one which the poem tells you (general, reader ‘you’) I am incredibly glad I did not go through with. Frankly it never occurred to me that someone would assume I might be moralizing the act.

Granted, how an individual understands and uses language is deeply personal; you yourself are likely aware of this fact, given your conscious, careful phrasing of the subject. And I recognize the kindness behind your intention in sending this ask, recognize that you likely only meant I could / should be a little more careful with my phrasing in the interest of exercising compassion.

But that’s precisely the crux of what frustrates me.

“[...] the only other time you would use the word 'committed' is in the context of a crime, which implies the person in question is a criminal rather than someone who was hurting.”

This is a statement of generalization. One you are making to the very person who was discussing, however briefly, however veiled by the medium of poetry, her own history with suicidality.

You did not verbally condemn me for my phrasing, yes. Nonetheless, consciously or unconsciously, you did assume something about my stance on the morality of the matter. Not that almost dying myself of suicide, as you put it, precludes by default the belief that suicide is a ‘sin’ or otherwise somehow immoral, of course—and that’s the point.

You do not know me. I am a stranger whose poem you read and rather liked, and that poem, in isolation nothing more than a bizarre fragment of conversation, is all the information you have about me. You can infer from the text that I likely believe in God and that this God of mine probably roots in some flavour of Christianity, but that’s about it. Keeping the caption so short, I thought at most people would believe me pretentious. But moralizing?

Frankly speaking, the biases you assume implicit to the word are in this instance yours and yours alone. Not only because committed is perhaps more often used adjectivally, in its sense of “devoted to”, but because I was speaking strictly about myself, about my own acts and my own person. Even if I had been moralizing the act—isn’t this a little too presumptuous of you?

What right do you, a stranger, have to advise me? The very fact that you attempt to do so makes me assume that whether or not you are aware of it, you already believe your own moral position to be superior.

Again, I am giving you the benefit of the doubt by also assuming that you came to me in good faith. If true, I appreciate the kindness of your intentions; but you do not know me.

You know nothing of me as a person, of my social and religious background, of the web of circumstances which shaped me and affected me so profoundly so as to put me in that precarious a state of mind at the age of fourteen. You are a stranger, so you also have no way of knowing, for example, that as someone who has struggled with suicidal ideation since childhood, I actually abhor this sort of distant, passive verbiage. No way of knowing that to me all it does is reframe suicide as a sort of tragic accident. What kind of raw nerve that is for me.

And this is not a rebuke; it’s far from any actual anger, really. It’s simply a statement of fact. You do not know any of this and it is only natural that you don’t, because these are interior, intimate details, the sorts of things only my best friends are privy to.

How you and your family, as the bereaved party, choose to approach and discuss suicide is strictly your business. I do not know how long it has been since your sister’s death, but I do know that the loss of a loved one, regardless of the circumstances in which it happened, is something we carry with us our whole life. I wish you all the best in navigating and managing your grief.

But you must understand that I myself represent the party which almost bereaved the person dearest to me, my mother. And it is from this position that I kindly ask you to perhaps think twice when you next find yourself reaching out to a stranger on the internet about such a charged topic.

[nalyra-dreaming]

i grew up in an abusive home myself (not as extreme as the show tho!) and claudia taunting lestat was weird to me. obvs she's got nerves of steel, but baiting your abuser & turning your back when they're yelling goes against every instinct. she seemed v confident he wasn't going to hurt her, but why? was her cowering in fear on the train an embellishment of louis' or smth? i'm not criticizing her or saying there's a right or wrong way to handle abuse, but these scenes felt contradictory?

First off - sending you a big, big hug (if you'll have it) 🥺

In regards to your ask.

I hope it's okay that I took a moment, because this is a touchy subject.

But... I agree. And I have had comments and reblogs to this effect on other posts as well, and having also some experience with abuse as a child (not sexual... just... well. physical.) I also felt the scenes off.

There are a few contradictions. IMHO.

In. The. Tale.

(Not the implementation, or meaning behind it. I'm not touching "why" they chose to give us the tale as it is here, that's a whole different subject.)

For one, both Louis and Claudia could have moved away after Louis was well again - Louis' mother was dead, Grace was gone, Claudia was back... there was nothing holding them there, was there. (I got the hell out of dodge as soon as I could, I literally put an ocean between myself and my family, and I can tell you I cackled rather humorlessly at that phrase Lestat used in ep1, and knowing his backstory.)

And they are not afraid of Lestat, even though he shows up regularly, as the car scene makes very clear. I always found that weird, given the (by then) very clear power discrepancy and they must have been aware that Lestat could have forced them... and that he didn't. And they trusted that... goodwill? After that "fight"? Mhhh. Claudia later tells Lestat that they don't repair the mantle piece because the damage stays... but that in and by itself is already an aggravation once more, as are the rules she puts up with Louis. The demands she puts up.

Claudia is not afraid of Lestat.

She is furious at Lestat on Louis' behalf. She is furious because Lestat is the cheating, "bad" parent, and she is protecting Louis. Who has been hurt by Lestat, emotionally, and physically (no matter the extent of the fight). But she is not afraid. As you also noted, turning your back on your abuser goes against every instinct, and you'd be careful not to rile them up. Which she does. Regularly and pointedly, and on purpose. She is not afraid.

Louis on the other hand... Louis exhibits signs of trauma in regards to the abuse, imho. He very carefully tries not to rock the boat after Lestat is back, he concedes, tries to negotiate between them. Gives into Lestat's whims and demands. (He also lowers his eyes in said car scene, and has his hands in his pockets, and his whole body language is withdrawn. Totally different to Claudia there, who even goes so far as to damage the gift in front of Lestat.)

And this is especially important in regards to the train scene, imho.

Because... that was not read from a diary. It was narrated by Louis. Who, of course, colored what he either got told by her or what she let him pick from her mind by his own interpretations.

And his own compassion and feelings.

What did he think Claudia would feel when Lestat showed up? What did he think Claudia would do when Lestat showed up. Would she cry? Be desperate? What did he expect Lestat to do when he went after Claudia...

And, of course, if his tale is to be trusted there, he didn't know Lestat went after her, so he... imagined it after?! When a furious Claudia would relate the encounter? Or when she talked to him in his mind?

*sighs*

Given the statement that everything we have seen will change in meaning with season 2 I think it is somewhat fair to say that this whole thing... is likely not as it seems.

Not yet at least.

And ... totally apart from Armand being Armand and being Armand (and there, in Dubai, and obviously involved in it all) there is also the aspect that canonically... Claudia manipulated Louis into killing Lestat. And she notes that in her diaries... and that she hated them both.

And it might be that we will get a change of the tale bc of that as well.

[restinsodaroni]

I'll try posting the FAQ this way lol, hopefully this works better! So read below to see the asks I will and won't accept or answers to common questions I get! I'll be linking this in my pinned post!

Alright! Please read this before sending in an ask!

REMEMBER AN ACTUAL PERSON (Me) RUNS THIS ACCOUNT NOT SUN OR MOON! KEEP THAT IN MIND BEFORE SENDING ANYTHING!! THANK YOU!!

🚫Evidently I am going to have to be stricter now since I have been creeped out numerous times on here. So yeah I will be blocking folks who keep disregarding my boundaries, constantly ignoring my FAQ, or just being impolite! Sorry! 🚫

Hey so please don't:

• Send me any questions that ask about what would Sun and Moon do if you were harming yourself no matter the severity or the circumstances. It makes me uncomfortable and I shouldn't have to explain why.

• Spam the same ask especially everyday! That is not gonna get me to answer you. Spamming = Block I am not going to be lenient about this anymore!

• Send me an ask to change Y/N's body type.

Here's a post where I talk about said boundaries.

• Expect me to answer your ask right away. If I could answer them quickly I would but that's unrealistic for me

How do you pronounce your Username?

It's rest in sodaroni ! It's a play on the phrase rest in pepperoni. I made a joke about it a while ago with my sibling and decided to make it my username lol. Yes I know separating the words would have been ideal, but I'm not changing it now!

Can I draw you fanart or send you a fic centered around your AU?

Sure you can! As long as it’s sfw then its fine!

Are you ok with nsfw being sent to you?

I am not! I’d like to keep this blog sfw please! 

How come you haven’t answered my ask?

Well that’s because I get sent A LOT of asks. And a majority of them need comic responses which takes time to do. Not to mention my schedule is pretty hectic, even when I have free time I don't know if I'll have time to myself lol.

And I have other projects, art, and my Daycare Attendant fics I want to work on too sometimes. So just know if you send in an ask it may take me a while to answer it!

Also I may not have a good idea how to answer your ask at the time. Or I'm just overwhelmed at the moment lol 😅 And please don't spam the same ask in my inbox. Spamming = Block

Where can I read your fanfics?

You can read them right here!

‼️ Disclaimer! Please read the tags and summary for either fics! I don't want you to be blindsided when you find out the fic isn't 100% fluff or wholesome! Just gonna give you a heads up lol ‼️

When will the next chapter of your fic(s) be out?

I promise you I'm working on it! It just takes me longer because of the drawings since I am putting more effort into them now!

Can I use one of your drawings as an icon, wallpaper, etc?

Yeah that’s fine!

Why did you draw Sun, Moon, or Eclipse like *Insert questions here*?

Why does anyone draw the way they do? Because I wanted to lol, and I like how it looks. That's basically it haha.

Can you draw me/myoc/my sun and moon/a meme?

Do you roleplay?

Nope!

Sure! But please send a picture of what you want me to draw! I got a handful of asks that requested this but sent me no reference photos so I don’t know what to draw lol.

Also don't send me drawing prompts of your characters/You getting too intimate with Sun and Moon or even Y/n. (Yes, I have to add Y/n on here now...)

If you want a hug cool, anything more than that I will probably not draw since some people can't behave lol.

If you send a question about wanting to be mean or even hurt Sun or Moon just don't get upset by the response you are given lol. It's just a comic, it's not real and Sun and Moon are not really mad.

Where do you get your gifs/screenshots of the Daycare Attendant?

I watch a lot of Fnaf security breach sfm videos on YouTube so sometimes I come across a funny video clip and screenshot or make a gif of it.

Who is your favorite? Sun or Moon?

I’ll be honest, I can’t pick between the two lol. I like them both!

I don't like your art style/ I don't like how you draw Sun, Moon, or Eclipse/ One of your drawings came out weird lol / You don't draw as good as the other artists.

It's fine if you don't like my art style, but please just keep it to yourself, your blog, your friends, your grandmother, or whatever. Like idk why people on here felt the need to tell this to me, but yeah don't do that. And no, telling me you don't like my art style but like my comics isn't the compliment you think it is. I wouldn't have cared so much until I got a few people telling me this pretty much every time I posted. I ignored it as long as I could lol 🤷🏻‍♀️

This pertains to a few asks so I'll address it here:

I know when someone is fetish farming, I'm not naive lol. Like it seems really suspicious when I have the same person/anon desperately trying to get me to draw a specific ask 👀 soooo cut that shit out lol. It's very creepy and goes against my consent. Also chill with the dark humor.

*Ok so I’m going to be talking about a heavy topic here so read no further if you experience thoughts of self-harm or depressive thoughts!*

I don’t believe I would get an ask like this again but this is just in case! ( Edit: nevermind I did get more asks pertaining to self-harm smh ) I don’t mind drawing you something if you had a bad day, but I will not draw something for someone who requesting me to comfort them with a drawing of Sun or Moon because they self-harmed. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but I just can’t. I go over my reasoning in this post. Please don't send me any self-harm related questions!

*End of the serious topic!*

And that should be it! I may update this down the line! Thank you for taking the time to read this!

[unsociableandtaciturnbarbie]

As I believe I’ve mentioned previously, I have read Sense and Sensibility before. What I have not mentioned previously, out of respect for spoilers, is that when I finished Sense and Sensibility, on a January evening in 2021, I promptly slammed the book shut and stormed into my mother’s room to rant. What could have earned this book a 3.5/5 rating (note: my rating scale sometimes extends to ∞/5 so this is a very low score) and the comment, “Excuse me? What was that ending???” in my Google Sheets reading log? Simply put: it was Elinor and Colonel Brandon not ending up together.

I will readily admit that I got into Austen for the romance; it’s hard not to when your first exposure to her works is Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and you’re a romance-obsessed 16 year old. Thus, a pairing of characters which I deemed unsuitable entirely ruined most of my enjoyment of the book at the time. This year, I decided to read Sense and Sensibility with a more open mind and a determination to like Edward as a love interest. Unfortunately, Edward still fell (quite) short for me. As someone who sees a lot of myself in Elinor with a brother who has Marianne tendencies, I can’t help but wish Elinor the absolute best. I just wanted to see her hard work constantly caring for her sister (who gets herself into such avoidable trouble) pay off. Yet, Marianne somehow ends up with the best option, and reluctantly at that! At this point, I should state that I cannot possibly do justice to the level of research (read: obsession) I have done into this in one Tumblr post. Here’s a meme I threw together that I think encapsulates it (picture me as the guy in the tie, my annotated book as the board behind him, and my roommate as the woman just barely in frame) (I’m serious, my roommates did not know the plot of Sense and Sensibility before this week):

Despite my best intentions, by the middle of Volume 2 I was highlighting every phrase that I thought could possibly mean that Elinor and Brandon were meant to be together- some may call it willful misunderstanding, I call it careful analysis. Example 1: Of Mrs. Dashwood saying that Marianne would be happier to marry Colonel Branon than Elinor, “Elinor was half inclined to ask her reason for thinking so, because satisfied that none founded on an impartial consideration of their age, characters, or feelings, could be given (254) .” Was this likely meant to serve as a way to show Mrs. Dashwood’s over-sensibility and lack of sense for basic facts like age? Yes. Does the word “feelings” at the end of this quote send me into a tailspin of possibilities of what that could mean? Also yes. In the interest of your time, I will not put them all here, but I have a collection of quotes which I am willing to share. Additionally, as proof that there are other believers out there, here is a reddit thread about them for your perusal, and my favorite comment!

I could say much more on the subject of Elinor and Colonel Brandon themselves, but I’m going to restrain myself here and focus more on the fanfiction which I provided as the center for my post today. This fic is titled Added Sensibility and is a 19 chapter WIP (work-in-progress). For those unaware, fanfiction is a wonderful online world of writing where anything can happen to any character that has ever existed. Do you think Harry Potter’s  Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger should have ended up together? There’s fanfiction about that! Do you wish Rey and Kylo Ren of the Star Wars Sequels got to live happily ever after together? There’s fanfiction about that too! This last example would be what is termed a “Fix-it” fic in the fanfiction world. These are based on the idea that if you think something went wrong somewhere in a piece of fiction, you can go back and “fix it” for yourself… and the entire internet. Elinor and Colonel Brandon ending up together is something I would deem to be a “fix-it”. Thus, I went straight to AO3 (Archive Of Our Own- a popular fanfiction publishing website) and searched for Colonel Brandon/Elinor Dashwood. Side note: This was actually the second fic I tried for this week’s post. The first was only 6 chapters but wrapped up quickly with Marianne running away to join the feminist movement along with Colonel Brandon’s ward. It was not what I wanted, so I gave Added Sensibility a try even though I would normally not touch a WIP.

I can attest 10 chapters (the equivalent of 134 ebook pages on my phone) in that this is a great read. It’s not Jane Austen, no one will ever be able to replicate her masterful use of language to create layer after layer of sharp wit, but it’s pretty good in my opinion. There’s enough plot and character development present so that it’s not a totally 2d story, but the main focus is on their developing love story, starting from when Elinor and Marianne go to stay with Mrs. Jennings in town. What really caught my attention (besides my glee at someone having written Elinor and Colonel Brandon together pretty much exactly the way I wanted it) was the characterization of Mrs. Jennings. The author once writes of Mrs. Jennings, “The woman was the complete opposite of an enigma, and yet, Elinor struggled to comprehend her thoughts.” In class we talked about how Mrs. Jennings seems to be so close to “getting it” sometimes, but then she just turns back into this very flat and gossipy character. In this fanfic, the author seems to go through with it and gives her more dimension and credit for intelligence than I think Jane Austen ever meant to, but it brings me back to when we talked about the idea that you can pull any character out of an Austen novel and write a novel on them. This fanfic really supports that for me. While Elinor and Colonel Brandon were characters who have had their characters decently sketched out in Sense and Sensibility, this fanfic gives dimension to other characters, like Mrs. Jennings, who previously were more of the backdrop for where the Dashwoods existed. I do think Jane Austen is rolling in her grave over the amount of ungloved hand contact and improperly private conversations that occur in this fanfic, but I will 100% own to being the target audience for the American ending of Pride and Prejudice (2005), so all the mushy gushy affection in this fanfic is right up my alley. Overall, I would recommend this fanfic and I will be finishing it in my free time!

[probablyhuntersmom]

Ok, I was told about this.

emerald-entrails-hunter,

I'm gonna show a total of four screenshots in this post, and I don't wanna force what people think of me or twist any narratives. You readers can decide 😔 It would be good though, if readers have a look at both her post and this one that I have written. Before deciding what kind of person I am.

After the first boundary you put up in September, I still sent you an absolutely insensitive ask shortly after you ended things on Discord, and I wrote a physical letter to send to you. In both, not only I did not give a proper apology, but I violated your boundary of "Do not contact me again". In no way am I justifying what I did but, I was desperate to try and get us to reconcile, even if it was executed so poorly. And re: the matter that even led up to the end of our friendship to begin with.....I was cowardly. I am so sorry for my hurtful behaviour in that situation too. For all this, I am truly sorry. 😔

And I know that people have varying opinions about vagueposting. But like, if people see my vagueposts, wasn't that a conscious choice they made to seek out my vagueposts, policing what I put up?

Look. Even putting up this post, is terrifying to me. But to quote you, I to a degree also need to stand up for myself here, or else I'm going to spiral badly just before a vacation that's in 5 days. I am not like your abuser. It has taken me many months to even begin loving myself again after what happened. 😔

There was absolutely no way that I was going to show up outside your door at all.

I am definitely not that person. I put in my vagueposts that any reminders of rural Japan would be triggering e.g. even imagining tatami flooring in my head would make me gag, so why would I spend a huge chunk of $ to even go there now, in the first place (far more so now, since I'm in remission for cancer)? That would make me feel sicker to my stomach than the set of multiple triggers I already had. One of my posts also speaks about me cancelling a hotel booking. Which means I was NOT going to go to Japan to find you.

Proof from my email inbox:

And I would have done this much earlier. But I got diagnosed with cancer.

So, I suspect that you and your group have deliberately not factored in info like that in your callout. Because you really want to push a certain narrative here. If you have been monitoring me, you would have seen that info. But you do not appear to have incorporated said info into how you are viewing this whole thing.

This group has assumed that my motive was about inserting messages and about reaching out to connect, when instead I was just processing my feelings. Is there not a difference between those? I feel that this group has created their own definitions for things.

This group has actively chosen to peek at a blog they don't want to follow (mine), like hate-watching something to feel righteous, and then got ticked off - idk about internet culture differences, but you could have chosen not to look? Esp after I said I cancelled my hotel booking? AND even when I did not speak ill of you at all in my posts, it still wasn't good enough for your group's set of rules. This feels like any phrase I type is going to be seen by them as "*hisssssss* she broke our rules!!", so I have a very bad feeling about continuing.

Whether you believe me or not, I already felt so so awful and guilty upon sending off the letter. And, seeing your art in my suggestions sidebars was not something I sought out. I didn't want to see your art. But the previews of your art still made their way past Tumblr's blocking and filtering system, and they would trigger me. This means I would definitely, absolutely, never want to show up begging you for anything, or write you anymore letters, after the wrongdoings from last year that are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I would not dare to at all, because the guilt is still eating into me every day 😔😔😔

How ashamed do you think I feel now, now that I have learnt that what I did caused you to move apartments? And I do not want to say this in any manipulative manner at all. I say it from a place of utter sadness and shame.

And importantly, you sent me these from a new sideblog you created, back in February when you heard about my cancer:

In your callout post, you say there was absolutely no misunderstanding that went down between us. But in your February ask, you said "a grand misunderstanding".

If you've changed your mind, then ok, it's perfectly valid. But it really sounds like two completely different people who sent me this long ask in Feb, versus the callout post from 12 or so hours ago.

You said, "You don't care about how you've made me feel". But if I carry this much guilt, every single day, doesn't that mean that I care about how I have made you feel?

Or, are you wanting me to care about how you feel, in a very very specific way? I'm not you, and at this point I really don't think I can be.

You saying "this happened last flipping September" and "we only knew each other for 2-3 months tops"...means you have given my grief a timeline and deadline. I will really, really have to disagree about this. You may not understand it, but this is one area that I definitely can't change my mind about.

Grief is as unique as fingerprints are, and my grief has stretched on for 9.5 months now because the 2-3 good months we had? They mattered. They. Mattered. That. Much. To. Me. Those short months were real. It's not that I was scheming with some long-term plan, to be power-hungry or hungry for control in the friendship.

I still loved you all this time and mourned deeply, though now that you've put up that post, I'm really not so sure anymore.

You have every right to feel frustrated that I'm still mourning after almost 10 months. But if you are trying to say here that I must grieve in a way that you want, I'm very sorry but I really can't. Reading your callout post, I also do not feel like you have acknowledged the heavy guilt I have been carrying, which I am not lying about. I am acknowledging your pain, even if you cannot trust that I am, but don't see that you have acknowledged mine in the callout post.

Why couldn't you use a more balanced statement e.g. "I understand you are guilty, but your vagueposting makes me extremely paranoid and uncomfortable"?

Instead, you are saying "You don't care about how you've made me feel".

I am very very sorry, and could not be more sorry, for all the hurt I have caused you. This is the theme of the ask that I wanted to send to you this coming Monday, to that same sideblog of yours. But I won't send it anymore because you don't want that. You acknowledged in the February ask you sent, that you hurt me as well. But I fully acknowledge that I was the one started it: this is true.

In your callout post, you said "now you're trying to [break my trust] again soon?" Well, in your February ask to me, you said I could rehash what happened in September with you if I wanted. And I was prepping to do that this coming Monday, though I won't anymore.

I feel that your callout is presumptuous, filtered through your lens without checking with me first. Though at the same time: I fully understand why you wouldn't want to trust anymore, even if I'm telling the truth. I acknowledge this fully.

You have pointed out via DM that you are prone to all-or-nothing thinking and you KNOW it can be unhealthy:

And I believe this is what was in play again here, with what has happened.

I'm just. I am really, truly sorry. 😔😔😔 Now I feel that I'm gonna have to 100% block from my side as well, so that I don't start having serious symptoms, because the ring of "You have no right to X/Y/Z" in your callout post, and how you're implying to me how to navigate my grief...this has changed the impression I now have of you too, after almost 10 months 😔 So, this is goodbye.

I am truly sorry. I don't want to hide anything on here

-------------

Here's my conclusion:

- They filled in a massive gap with what they think my motives were, to push a particular narrative to suit a specific agenda, to make them feel a certain way that they wanted.

- E.g. being rather sure that I was gonna spend a huge chunk of $ to go and fly somewhere and, still talk to a person that I fell out with? That would be a really huge waste of $, time and sanity. But hey, they already spun a story to put out there.

- They also left this out on purpose: I spoke about the nausea I'd feel when I images of tatami flooring and anything Japan would appear in my mind. So...imagine how unpleasant it would be for me to even look at the real scenery and locations. So why would I take a huge chunk of $ out of my savings, to go somewhere and make myself feel worse than I already have felt about the imagery in my head whenever it pops up in my head? - The ask sent to me in Feb allowed me to rehash the fallout again. And when I wanna do the rehashing, I then get slammed for it. Uh? I could not read your mind that you had changed your decision: the change in decision was NOT communicated to me in private first. Then waywardsunlight, her friend and attack dog, shrieks at me asking why I put up screenshots of the February ask. If she put my username out publicly, and then demands that I don't put up that ask (which acts as proof) publicly.....what does this therefore imply? That this group doesn't want me putting out context that they wanna make sure they leave out? Feels like a double standard to me.

- Importantly, she has conveniently said "Well, how was I supposed to know all that?!?!" only AFTER she put out this story that she wanted to tell.

I am repulsed. Thank god

[winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts]

Come and Trick or Treat! Open all year :] tags updated Nov. 28

Intro?

Howdy!!! Pronouns —> she/he/they (no preference)

Wolfy (wolf character I doodle sometimes) is my blog mascot. Unreliable sleep schedule/forgetful/message notifs don’t show up- so if you need me uhhhh keep yelling until I notice? Hdfjhfg..

I love drawing, listening to game playthroughs, and looking at cute animals! Feel free to send an ask about anything.

——

Tags!!

Art tag: wolfys art

Cool art by pals: grand showcase of arts

Doc says something: wolf chats

Art months stuff (all of them!! general tag): Just Here To Have Fun

Kiley and co stuff (commonwealth): little wastrels

second fallout au (island, custom location for an rp): badlands crew

Misc fandom tags (unreliably tagged but I will start now): qsmp, good omens, fallout, bg3, whump stuff, starfield, doctor who

important/tagged consistently: psa, boost (urgent news), reblogging for future reference (general tips), promo (friends news), flashing images, bright colors

"You have to reblog!" And similar phrases: rebait

Minor misc tags: drawing tips, writing tips, cooking tips, fave,

Note- these are not tagged reliably: ghouls/zombies, blood, skeletons, suggestive (no explicit things here), bugs and spiders, guns, drug use, smoking, all caps

——

Unimportant ramblings v

Time stamp: Jul 15? Heeeeey. Hello. So I did take a break from art till like last week, but uh, the health has been a roller coaster-

I kinda cleaned the whole house compulsively multiple times. I dunno what to say about that. Went from the compulsion to be Always Drawing to Always Doing Chores, so it wasn’t really a break? It felt amazing for a little while, but I am so stressed inside ahagfhkhdf. Anywayssssss.

I realized that promising to do the art requests Later is just me returning to old behavior, like just... keeping it on the line so I /nobody gets a direct answer *when* it will be done. That makes my brain think it’s in the clear while the other artists are worried and unsure what’d happen. Andddd even though I did have the motivation to do animated group projects for a little while, a small thing completely knocked me into dropping everything else.

I know I *could* try to join more projects or do more requests, I’m not in a safe headspace where I wouldn’t be set off, and nobody should risk their project’s deadline for that-

TLDR I’m going to Try and fix things up on my end and stop myself from joining anything (that depends on Every artists effort). Even if I feel alright *now* I know there’s a lot of risk for *later*- just don’t let me in anything big and important even if I ask, please- for at least a year-

—— Timestamp: Slightly Before August

Gonna Try Ink Demonth this year- I’ll limit myself and not do something too detailed again hsdkfjzhk.

——

Timestamp: August 17

[cackles evilly] Ink Demonth Ink Demothhhhh- this is the furthest I’ve ever gotten in an art prompt month ever! ...even though I’m technically not on theme (Fallout instead of Batim). Trying to pace myself by alternating between a simple and detailed style. Hrrrh the yeehawgust prompts (cowboy theme!) look so cool but I won’t double up- but I will try to participate in the September AI-less-Whump month. (gore and dark subjects! I’ll tag everything properly of course.)

Also I’ve come to a realization- A dream of mine has been becoming famous for my art/animations, but uh- One, it isn’t realistic, and Two, posts getting like 200 notes freaks me out cfjhxfgh- Well, doing stuff for friends and others is just as cool. Y’all are awesome ^w^

——

Timestamp: Aughust ninteen

Wait actually I don’t need a reason to block people. I don’t need to tell you either. It’s been getting a bit too chummy around here (reference)

——

Timestamp: September 4

I didn’t finish the art month, but I got to day twenty! That’s pretty good. I’ll finish it up this month. I also gotta work on some ref sheet, finish a birthday gift, andddd clear the askbox.

——

Timestamp: September 29

Oeghhhh.... too many ideas, not enough time. So many comic ideas. And I gotta tamp down my love of angst dvhkdfbnsf, make sure it makes sense first!! Decided to keep the aus separate. Normal Game Stuff is happening in the Badlands mainland, uh, I don’t know what ending we’d go with but anyways. ....hm. Maybe there’s no sosu and the factions are not making any progress. But probably’d lean towards Institute ending if I had to choose now.

Hm. Well. Maybe I did not think. Uh well in the other au Kiley’s with the Minutemen, and Nate’s with the BoS, so... well I’m not sure how this is gonna go- I’ll keep drawing memes till I think of something cool.

——

Timestamp: October 24

Well uhhhh. I dropped the October art challenge pretty quick, unfortunately. I’ll continue in December maybe? I said I’d do a few days of Halltober, and I don’t want to go back on what I said.

I keep continuing and dropping the au stuff, but that just proves I can continue a project! Maybe!! Maybe. It’ssss a comedy, so uh I’m not worried about making a Deep Story or anything. It’ll be fiiiiine. Just little slice of life stuff.

I wwwwwill get caught up on requests and gifts-

[primewritessmut]

2, 10, 11, 13, 16, 18, 19, and 40

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

already answered

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

Very early in the process only because I have zero chill and as soon as that first chapter is written, it's getting posted. That's lead to having some fics that I wish I could rename because it didn't end up fitting the final form but... eh. It's all a learning curve.

Usually, I pull a quote out of the fic and that becomes the title (for the entire fic and the chapters), but I also like making puns or using well known phrases because I'm a fucking dweeb.

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

I don't do a lot of research. Anyone that hangs around this blog and reads these asks for even a minute probably knows that I write strictly for the vibes. Basically, I don't worry to much about it and, if someone corrects me later, I try to change it.

I did an unusual amount of research about spiders as background for Peter in Songs for the Zombie Apocalypse. Mostly around how spider eyes work and what specific spider Peter might have gotten his mutations from. Jumping spiders have eyes that can do both telescopic vision and see colors and depth in the same way that humans do. I originally had plans to incorporate this more (lots of head tilting to dial in the telescopic sight) but it didn't fit the word count.

Also, if you ever need to know about New York cities surrounding Albany in the 1930s, I've drawn up a map. For reasons.

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

already answered

16. where is your favorite place to write?

At home. I alternate between my desk and the kitchen table. I do genuinely enjoy writing in public as well (the library especially is fantastic!) but am hyper paranoid that someone is going to accidentally catch sight of a knife kink scene over my shoulder and call the cops.

18. what is your most and least favorite part of writing?

Writing is one of the few places that I ever experience a true sense of flow. The other being athletics which are frustratingly thin on the ground as an adult. I don't know, it probably sounds stupid to say that writing makes me happy. It doesn't make me happy but it allows me to get out of my own way sometimes which I fucking need.

Opening myself up for feedback is my absolute least favorite part of writing. It's why I usually don't edit (hope ya'll enjoy my sloppy first drafts!) or have a beta. Like, I write to get the fuck away from people and expectations, so it's EXHAUSTING when the writing creates those things in excess. I am terrible at taking constructive criticism. Don't give it to me. It will not end well.

19. what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

There are the authors that I wish would influence my style and then the ones that actually did. I grew up on a steady diet of very specific teenage horror and, the more I look back, the more I realize how much that probably influenced my work.

So, uh, thanks to Christoper Pike, I guess.

Beyond that, there aren't a lot of authors that I think influenced me. I found Chuck Palahniuk at a very special developmental stage for my brain and romance, as an entire genre, has (no shit) probably saved my life. Got to get the good brain chemicals from somewhere if you can't produce them yourself, right?

40. best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

My fifth grade teacher, after grading a writing assignment, called my parents and convinced them to send me to creative writing summer camp. Maybe that qualifies more as praise than feedback, but it was wild to have someone believe in me that hard and go to bat for me just because she saw some potential in there somewhere.