#forcing myself to be vulnerable to my friends because I need help and it's about time I let people know that

[hamartia-grander]

so my general paranoia has always been pretty bad (hi ocd) but I thought it was more manageable the past few years as I've matured and gotten better at catching myself before I spiral, but recently (as in the past three weeks or so) it's been so bad that I do things impulsively as I'm spiralling without even realising it and it's been negatively affecting the way I perceive how friends think of me which I do NOT want to start happening again because that sucked. Idk why it's happening but I'd be grateful for any advice idrk what else to say about it.

[soullessdianthus]

have you written anything for a perv!gromsko? he is my favorite and i would love to see you write for him!

A/N: I decided to write him in the most stereotypical way which is misogynistic (men in Poland are like this fr *COUGHS*). Just because I gave myself a pass to do that bc I'm Polish, okay? *Muah* to this anon for Polish reference! (づ￣ ³￣)づ

Warnings: misogyny, sabotage in workplace, nsfw (overstimulation, darcyphilia, cockwarming, throat training, dumbification maybe?)

✧°. Gromsko is a misogynistic kind of pervert. Born and raised in a traditional Polish family he grew unaware of his deepest, darkest desires. Until.

✧°. When you enrolled into the SpecGru forces, he couldn’t believe something as delicate as a girl found herself here, within the private military company. Of course Sobiesław knew women were stronger than it seemed, but not in a fucking battlefield. In his opinion they should worry about hearth and home not a bloodshed. 

✧°. Obviously he had been working with some scary women before, but never with someone like you – still young, perhaps naive even. Your pretty body untouched with little to no scars. You were definitely a description of a delicate flower in his eyes.

✧°. His mother and grandmother raised him well – he would never risk the life of a devoted woman in a place like this. So since the first day Kościuszko saw you enter the gym hall, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

✧°. Perv!Gromsko would stare from his spot, surrounded by his friends, yet it was you who got his full attention. How your body flexes and muscles stretch while working out or how your breasts bounce as you run on the treadmill. Dear God, don’t give him ideas.

✧°. He was already dreaming of you riding his cock into oblivion, naked while he was in full uniform. Sobiesław’s coarse hands pressing down onto your hips, making you sink further against him and his girl mewling from pleasure.

✧°. Sneaking behind everyone’s back Perv!Gromsko would do everything to be assigned with you while on a mission. Sobiesław very carefully sabotaged your work just for the superiors to punish you. 

✧°. Why? Because he would defend you in front of them, telling them you need another chance, that he would guide you. And since he was an honored soldier within the company, they made him your temporary superior as he had a higher rank than you. From now on, he was responsible for you and your doings. 

✧°. Gromsko had you where he wanted to since the very beginning – vulnerable and dependent. 

✧°. Perv!Sobiesław believed it was meant that way, because women should listen to their husbands, right? First thing he wanted to change in your training routine was cardio. 

✧°. Your comrade told you to show up at his dorm’s door in the evening. Without much thinking of it, you came straight to him, thinking he would take you to gym – how foolish.

✧°. A loud gasp escaped your mouth, when the man that was supposed to help you with your training session was pressing your face into the bedroom’s wall as his huge hands were groping your breasts! Perv!Gromsko would correct your stamina by relentlessly thrusting into your tight cunt, causing you to beg for a break with tears streaming down your eyes. 

✧°. Evening sessions with Sobiesław became an almost daily occurrence. The man would bend you in different positions on his bed, thrusting deep into your pretty pussy until you couldn’t cum anymore. Perv!Gromsko would mock your lack of stamina and threaten he would not allow you to go on a mission if you hadn’t tried harder.

✧°. So he began training your throat breath by telling you to keep his cock in your wet mouth for a good while, sucking gently from time to time. Of course your tears and sobs were causing him to feel pity for you, but Sobiesław was doing this to help you become better! :( 

✧°. He was reading a book, the one from his grandma, while you were laying between his toned legs, keeping his throbbing member warm. You would whine from time to time from the lack of enough oxygen. But then Gromsko would simply caress your pretty, silly head and tell you how good job you’re doing. <3

✧°. “Such a good girl f’me.”

✧°. “No dalej, dasz radę, Mała [pol.: Come on, you can do this, little one].”

[xetswan]

Youngest Shadow- Chapter One, Two Sisters, Dad

One | two | three | four | five | six |

I was never a people person, not wanting to rely on someone.

Especially family, I didn’t need help.

I am not vulnerable, I couldn’t be. I saw how it affected people on a daily. High schoolers in relationships getting dumped, cheated on, having to many dramas in between them.

It was unnecessary.

I had my small circle and most of them were blood related to me.

My mom, my sister, Bella, and my father who lived across the country.

Oh, and my best friend. But practically family.

I’m content in my lifestyle too. I didn’t need pity from anyone. Either way that’s what I get from everyone. Even my older sister who tried to act like she understands.

My life was consistent. Making sure my mom was happy, helping my sister from losing her mind because of mom needing so much adventure. Other than doing that I played sports, practicing everyday.

Trying my best, not to be the best but to keep up my adrenaline. Running helps the most.

Adrenaline kept me alive, if I could jump off an airplane I would. I would do every crazy thing imaginable just because of the adrenaline that came with it.

Even little things can entice me. My piercings, having to make them a secret from coaches to play sports. Riding my motorcycle anytime was the best feeling after getting it.

I snuck out a few times, not even to do crazy things but to just say I did it.

You would think living in Arizona helped me with keeping my adrenaline up but you’d be wrong. It’s the same thing everyday now. I know what’s around.

And the heat, don’t get me started.

As much as I love my mom, I wanted to be in a forest hiking, see a fucking wild animal that could attack me. Jump off cliffs for the hell of it. Ride my motorcycle on different roads.

Seeing my dad, maybe join him in action. Hunt with him even.

Speaking of which, I stood beside Bella, my older sister by 10 months. She had just said goodbye to some “friends” who seemed like they could care less that she was leaving.

I turn to see our mom walking out of the house, so much energy balled into one person. She had hints of sadness and anxiety pulled on her face, trying to hide it with being happy for us.

She thrusts a phone into the hands of my sister, “It won’t work again, baby.” She frowned, her face always looked like it moved with every feeling she had. Never being able to hide how she felt. “You put it on hold.” Bella points out, the tiniest bit amused.

“I did?”

I smirk, trying to stop myself from laughing.

As much as it is funny it is worrisome, how will we reach her if she doesn’t even know how to work a phone.

“Look, you also called Mexico.” Renée pushes Bella, nudging me as well as the three of us laugh.

“I’ll figure it out. You gotta be able to reach me and Phil on the road.” She exclaims right before she gets excited. “I love saying that,” she grins, “On the road.”

“Very romantic,”

“Very.”

Bella and I both say, silently glancing at each other.

Phil comes up behind our mom, “If you call crappy motels, back water towns and ballpark hot dogs romantic.” He jokes, well partially since he was serious.

He places a Phoenix Desert Dogs baseball hat on Renées head, along with kisses her.

Looking at them partly soothes my nerves about leaving mom. I’m sure Bella feels the same since we practically took care of her for so long. Even though it should’ve been the other way around.

Phil walks away, to finish packing the car with our things. Renée grabs a hold of both of our arms, clinging to us as we walk to the vehicles.

I’m driving my motorcycle, mom wanted to get a trailer for it since it’s a really long drive but I convinced her not to. I couldn’t sit in a car with them for that long.

Plus I have a feeling Charlie is going to force me to anyway.

“Now you know if you two change your minds, I’ll race back here from wherever the game is.” Her face strained trying to hide how even though it would be a sacrifice she would still do it for us.

“You don’t have to worry.” I force a smile, Bella doing the same.

“We won’t change our minds mom.”

“You might, Bella. You’ve always hated Forks.” That’s true, I usually visited more than her. I had a closer relationship to dad, due to my interest of hunting like him.

“It’s not about Forks, it’s about dad. I mean unlike [Name], I went two weeks a year. We barely know each other.” She explains but I think it just worsened our moms worried expression. “Mom, I’m fine. I want to go. I got [Name] there with me.” She looked between us, hugging her eldest, whose face drops once she knew her mom couldn’t see it. It was full of dread and doubt. I also noticed the regret but kept quiet when she wants to bring it up she will.

They let go and Bella climbs into the car, moms attention going to me.

“I want you behind us at all times, you do not pass this vehicle. And no swerving.” She furrows her eyebrows, staring at me. “And don’t be stupid.” I add with a smirk, she rolls her eyes in a humorous way.

“I just want my baby girl safe.” She pouts, pulling me into a tight hug. “You don’t have to worry with me.” I miss her cheek, pushing out of the hug as I knew it would’ve been longer if I didn’t.

“Alright helmet and jacket and let’s go!” She pats my butt, reaching over and getting my helmet to give it to me. She gets into the van and I adjust my wired earbuds so one goes into my ear, stuffing the rest into my jacket and zipping it up.

I pull my helmet on and I press play on my iPod.

Getting to Washington State was a breath of fresh air, not only for my tired hand but the change of view and weather. My sister called it gloomy, never paying attention to the beauty of it all.

Dad surprisingly let me continue driving my bike, it was bittersweet for me. Really it was because he forgot the trailer. I kind of wish he did bring it because slouching like this for hours is not exactly fun. My back will be aching for weeks.

I’m just glad I didn’t have to sit in the awkward atmosphere of them two in that cruiser.

We passed a sign that said “The City Of Forms Welcomes You. Population 3246.”

I smile to myself.

Passing all of the familiar buildings I was missing felt amazing.

We pulled into Charlie’s driveway, I take my helmet off, sitting up straight for the first time in a few hours. Charlie comes over and messes with my hair as I climbed to his torso like a little kid. We laugh and he hugs me back.

I was the first to get into the house, putting my things right in my room. Really throwing them on the ground and rushing back out to see if Bella needs any help. My room was the only one downstairs. Dad had to make add it onto the house when they found out they were having me surprisingly.

I was truly the accident out of the two. Only three months after Bella was born was when I came around.

“I put Grandpas desk in your room. And I cleaned some shelves in the bathroom for you two.” He was mainly speaking to Bella. I watched her grimace. “That’s right, one bathroom.”

I followed her eyes around the house, going straight to a picture of our parents when they were younger and in love. “I’ll put these up in your room.” Charlie motions to her bags.

“I can’t do it.”

I silently stand there as they both reach for the bags, awkwardly bumping into each other causing me to cringe at the scene.

She backs off, letting him do it anyway. Which she should’ve done in the beginning. And I wouldn’t have seen that go down.

After that… experience, I followed my dad to the living room. “That was, nice.” He pauses for a minute before sighing. I place a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll get better. This is just new for both of you.” I smile sweetly and he nods, swinging an arm around my shoulders. But internally I’m just hoping I’m right. It’s going to be a long two years if I’m wrong. “What would I do without you?” He nudges me.

He lets go of me, telling me about how Billy and Jacob should be here soon to drop off surprises they’ve been working on. The one for Bella I knew about.

And right after it was spoken into the air we heard a honk outside.

I stand up straighter and run outside. A boy my age hops out of the red truck, rushing to give me a hug. “Jacob!” I laugh, this was the best friend I was talking about. My absolute best friend.

“Bella, you remember Billy Black.” Charlie speaks up, obviously Bella came outside after hearing the honk as well.

I let go of Jacob, “Glad you two are finally here. Charlie hasn’t shut up about it since you two told him y’all were coming.” He teases our dad, both Jacob and I snicker at the two who have always acted like this.

“Keep exaggerating, I’ll wheel you down the hill.” He tells the man who’s in a wheelchair.

“Right after I ram you in the ankles.” Billy goes after Charlie who dodges. Jacob shakes his head, I take him up to Bella. Poking him to say something.

“I’m Jacob, we made mud pies together when we were little kids.” He exclaims, she squints almost unnoticeably. “Yeah I think I remember.”

“Are they always like this?” She points to the two dads. “It’s getting worse with age.” He jokes.

Jacob always had a crush on Bella, so it was cute watching him finally be able to interact with her and not be a nervous little kid.

Cutting us out of our small silence Charlie pats the hood of the truck. We didn’t even notice they stopped messing around. “So what do you think of your homecoming gift?” He grins proudly. I watched my sisters face contort to confusion to happiness. “No way. The truck is for me?” Turning my focus to my dad who was soaking in her excitement. “Just bought it off Billy here.”

“I rebuilt the engine.” Jacob adds in.

“It’s perfect.” Her smile grew bigger, and more genuine. It was great to see her eager and happy about something. Her and Jacob rush to the truck so he could explain everything to her.

My dad snuck up to me, handing a small box. I look up at him confused. “Open it.” He motions. I stare at it for a minute, glancing over to Billy who puts his hands up as to say he knew as much as I did.

I bit my lip, opening the box carefully.

It had a locket inside, the same locket I would stare at in the window of an abandoned antique store that no one would clean out. The place I begged my dad to go into just to get me that necklace.

“The place finally got cleaned out and I just happened to be on patrol before they got rid of it.” He tells me.

“It doesn’t have a picture in it yet but I thought you could pick one you’d like.” I threw my arms around him, “it’s beautiful.” I pulled away to look at it in my hands again as it was a delicate flower.

[moonlight1110]

My Best Friend, König

bestfriend!König x reader ; college!au

Your best friend, the person you trust the most in the world to protect you, and most importantly, be there for your needs <3

Tags: afab!reader, König x reader smut, throat fucking, blowjobs n shit, smut to fluff, far from canon König, quick read, college!au, secret lovers, aftercare, no german aside from the petnames bc i dont wanna embarrass myself, not proofread

Notes: exams are done so i can finally shake sum asss 😩, i have so many ideas i wanna write for simon and konig im going insane, but expect that in the next few days or weeks, love yall <3

You were always known as the loud mouth. The most bubbly person anyone's ever met, and it was often meant as a compliment. You always knew how to light up a room the moment you walked in and it just seemed like no one ever had anything bad to say about you.

It seemed like you were able to catch anyone's eye, and that was reflected by the amount of attention you got whenever you would walk around campus. Turning heads and whispers followed you whenever you went, and that was especially true in your classes. But with your extroverted nature, it was a question in everyone's mind why your best friend was the total opposite of you.

König was your best friend, it was like you were both attached at the hip with how you never went anywhere without him to the point that people thought you were a couple. You two would debunk these rumors of course but that just showed how close you two were.

König was quiet, introverted, and intimidating, he was like the perfect bodyguard and that was one of the reasons you loved being around him, because of how safe he made you feel and how he always made sure you were okay, of course it was natural that you'd return the favor.

"K-König... Wait..." A soft moan slips past your lips, you can't hold it in with how good König was fucking you on his tongue right now. He chuckles, humming against your weeping cunt as he pinned your hips down on the mattress, one hand digging into the flesh of your hip as the other rubbed circles right on your twitching clit.

"You want me to stop, meine Schatz?" His voice dripped with desire and cockiness, knowing he was the only one who could see you in such a vulnerable and fucked out position with your legs trembling and draped over his shoulders as he ate you out and fucked you open on his tongue and fingers.

"No... No, don't stop!" you cried out helplessly, tugging at his hair. He growled, sliding his tongue out from your cunt with a satisfied moan from the pressure building in his scalp.

"On your knees, let me fuck that pretty mouth, meine Liebe..." He groaned, gently pulling your hand away from his hair and kissing your palm as he led you off the bed and on your knees in front of him, making space for you between his legs as he stroked himself in front of you. Up and down, slowly.

He was big and it made your mouth water as you inched closer on your knees. You couldn't help the small gasp that slipped when you slowly wrapped your delicate fingers around him.

"That's it... You know what to do..." He chuckled, intertwining his fingers with your hair to encourage you while he looked down at you with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Scheiße... Such a good fucking girl..." König's voice seemed to deepen at the feeling of your soft hands slowly pumping him, his grip on your hair becoming just a little bit tighter as he moaned your name, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

You could feel the heat pooling between your legs when König looked down at you, his eyes blown out with his lip between his teeth and it was clear he was resisting the urge to buck his hips into your mouth, force his dick right into the back of your throat with the way you were doing such a good job for him.

When you slowly wrapped your lips around him, he moaned breathlessly, his shoulders slumping at the feeling of your warm mouth around him. You couldn't help but close your eyes as you started to take him deeper, it was just too much, but he didn't like that at all.

"No, no... Keep your pretty eyes open... Keep looking at me..." He tugged on your hair lightly, forcing you to wince at the pressure but you followed his words of course. When your eyes fluttered open, you were met with the sight of König's chest heaving softly, his mouth opened just a bit as he groaned.

"Ja, that's it... Good girl..." He chuckled, humming as his grip on your hair softened, replacing it with a gentle massage on your scalp as you took him deeper, keeping your eyes on him the whole time.

Your started to bob your head in a steady rhythm, pumping the rest of the length you couldn't take. König, as much as he tried his best to keep his composure, was a mess for you. His chest was heaving and low growls would rumble from his chest every once in a while when his hips would buck into your mouth ever so slightly.

"Can I fuck this pretty mouth, baby? Please..." He pleaded as if he was even waiting for an answer, almost sounding like a drawn out whine when he started to buck his hips into your mouth, he just couldn't help himself, he couldn't resist you at all when you looked so pretty for him.

Your hands found purchase on his thighs, nails digging into his flesh as your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he started to push his cock deeper into your throat, making you gag on him.

"Feels so fucking good, Liebling... I can't help myself..." He moaned as he threw his head back, he was getting rougher now, giving you his cock deeper and deeper as he whispered his praises, telling you how good you are and how much he'll reward his darling after he's done.

Your jaw was starting to hurt, and despite his early instructions, you couldn't help but close your eyes as he pushed your head down with a deep groan. Your fingers were digging into his flesh that you were certain it'd bruise by the morning, but even with how your jaw was starting to get sore and with how your tears were staining your cheeks, you just fucking loved it.

"Shh, shh... You're doing so good, Schatz..." He cooed with a mean chuckle as he wiped your tears away with his thumb. What a gentle man your friend was, carefully pulling your head from his cock as he praised you. "Breathe, baby..." He whispered as he caressed your cheeks, letting you catch your breath as your hands relaxed on his thighs.

"Sorry... I couldn't stop myself..." He apologized after a few moments, carefully picking you up from the cold floor and onto his lap in a bridal position almost. "Was I too rough, Liebling?" He whispered affectionately, gently caressing your thighs as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as you nestled your head against his shoulder.

"Nothing I couldn't handle" You laughed quietly, relaxing in the warmth his body provided while his hands soothed your thighs and hips.

"You're right... You did so well, like you always do" He chuckled against your hair, kissing your head with a hum.

"Let me take care of you tonight, darling... You deserve it"

[scoonsalicious]

you're such a wonderful writer and i hope you are doing great 💖

wanted to ask you, how do you write this type of topics that are hard and difficult? what did you feel while writing for chapter 23, 24 and 25?

i hope to know more about you as a writer and your methods because it has been mind blowing reading Unwanted

Thank you so, so much! I'm doing great! lol

So, I originally started writing an answer to this question that more specifically aligned with what you asked, but the more I thought about it, the more I kind of wanted to delve into what this story was supposed to be, what it turned into, and what it was like creating it. This is probably way more info then you every asked for or expected, so I apologize, but just rewatched Endgame in the name of research and I'm crying like a baby right now, and feeling pretty emotional, lol WARNING: This is going to get heavy. So, Unwanted was never actually supposed to turn into what it was. It started with this really simple image in my brain. Reader (not yet named) undercover, working at a strip club, and Bucky showing up to annoy her and get her flustered. She's unhappy to see him. Why? They used to sleep together, but she hates him now. What happened? In the original story, Bucky and Pocket never fell in love. They were best friends, and became FWB. A new Avenger is recruited (Jade was originally named Sage, and then Jewel, before we got to where we are), and Bucky goes on this Russian mission with her and sleeps with her. He comes back dating Sage and distances himself from Pocket, and she's heart broken, because she feels like she'd just been used, and now that Bucky had a new set of holes to fill (Pocket's words, lol), he didn't need her anymore. Then, she gets assigned to this mission in Atlantic City (that part-- the missing women, the trafficking, was always the plan), and uses it as a chance to get away from him.

But then something IRL happened that actually ended up changing the entire course of the entire fic. A little backstory: When I was a child, I was sexually abused by a neighbor/family friend for many years. I didn't have the language at the time to explain what happened to me, so I never told anyone. I changed, going from a really happy, outgoing kid, to being really withdrawn and anxious; it basically destroyed my soul. This, of course, was back in the early '80s, where CSA wasn't really discussed or understood the way it is now. The signs were there, but my parents didn't know they should have been looking for.

I thought I got over it. I thought I processed and dealt with it and moved beyond it, and I grew into adulthood. But in reality, I was just building a mask. But then, in February of this year, while I'd already been working on the fic for several months under the aforementioned plot, something happened: My young nephew started showing signs that he may have been abused, as well, by either his nanny or someone the nanny had exposed him to. My brother and sister-in-law recognized the changes in him immediately, and did everything right. This triggered me, and it was pretty apparent that I had never processed my trauma-- I'd just repressed it. And everything came rushing back. I suddenly had immense anger toward my parents for failing to protect me, for not seeing the signs, for forcing me to interact with my abuser for years and years. It was misguided, and I recognize that, but I never allowed myself to process the emotions at the time, and was kind of starting over from scratch.

So, Pocket, in a lot of ways, became me. I gave her extremes of what I experienced so she could help me work through things, to help me process everything I was feeling, that sense of abandonment, not being able to trust people, the inability to form real relationships because I don't know how to be vulnerable. And I gave her some of my characteristics: from about ages 15-25, I was addicted on and off to opiates, and in college, I started drinking excessively to numb my pain, to the point where I have liver and kidney damage from it. I gave Pocket my use of humor-as-a-coping mechanism, my penchant for swearing, and most importantly, I gave her my pain, my hurt, so that she and I could get better, together.

So, when I write Pocket's spiral in Chapters 23-25, I'm writing an exaggeration of every spiral I've ever had, because, I figure, if I can get Pocket through all of that, surely I can get myself through my own shit, right?

I'm sure it wasn't the answer you were quite looking for, but it's the best way I can explain how I, and Unwanted got here. And as for my nephew, fortunately, after a State Police and Child Protective Service investigation, it looks like he was never actually sexually abused; for that, at least, I'm grateful.

[nomsfaultau]

I will never be normal about Tubbo and Philza’s dynamic in Fault. It’s so complex and messy. Because from Tubbos’ perspective, it’s ’this is the man who destroyed our best friend, but also the only reason Tommy survived the trauma of the Foundation. We recognize Philza capable of love, and the bloody cost of it is unbearable. Just helping him is against our morals. This is a monster in the shape of a human, one that proves the Foundation right. Philza is what we see in our nightmares. He is abhorrent. He keeps us safe and soothes our pain. He, no, it isn’t a person.’

And then from Philza’s perspective it’s ‘this person is the reason I’m still sane. As a god I never knew mortal terror before, and Tubbo alone saved me. They are why I can remember my children. They are the only reason Tommy survived the trauma of the Foundation. This is a child who is hurt and scared and I need to protect them. Tubbo is scared of me, is revolted by me, and I am bound by oath to them. I am supposed to love them, so I force myself to. If I lose Tubbo my principles might shatter. They are vulnerable. They sabotage the safety of my children. They are mine.”

So, like I said before, it’s your average step dad trying to bond with the new kid.

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

In regard to Roo, I have a theory about a connection between her and Eve. With Roo shaping up to be some sort of personification of evil itself, maybe she doesn't have a true physical form of her own and needs a vessel to do her dark deeds. Maybe eating the fruit of knowledge made Eve vulnerable to her possession. And as a result, Eve has had many moments throughout her life and afterlife where she's in control of her body for one period of time before Roo takes over for another to cause all manner of chaos she wants. Sort of a Norman Osborn and Green Goblin scenario.

I think this would make for a very shocking way for our wayward souls to be introduced to the Root of Evil. They meet Eve at some point in their endeavors and she (thinking she's managed to contain Roo for good) offers to help Charlie and Lucifer redeem sinners to make up for her role in allowing sin to manifest on Earth, only for her personality to take a sudden turn around as she breaks down laughing madly and then suddenly Charlie finds her new friend replaced with the ultimate evil.

What do you think.

Hello again my friend.

Oh they are certainly linked in my opinion. Its spelt all out in the few moments of the Amazon show.

I already pointed out that Roo that I believe she is Alastor contractor. Using her smile as the damning evidence.

The smile its is overly stretched similar to Alastor, plus the red eyes. I think Alastor smile is force. Not because we saw stitches that would force him to smile when his more demonic magic shows...which is suspicious. But I think its Roo signature that no one realizes. I think he would try to keep a smile as a personal policy regardless because it special to him between him and his mother in his living life. But it would definitely fell a few times if he actually was able to do so.

But how is the red eyes and smile connected to Eve you may ask.

BAM

Tho backstory lore of Heaven and Hell in the first few mins of the show, was shown in black and white. The only colors were used were gold to show Heaven/angels and red for evil and Hell. The very first red was shown as with the words angles shielded all from evil. Cue the first picture. The unnamed dark character (but we know its Roo)

The next show of red was the tree of knowledge. The tree that bare the fruit of mankind first sin. It....even shown the roots in red. The color the show picked for evil...the roots are evil...root of evil...Roo.

Eve bit into this forbidden fruit. She ingested evil and committed the first sin.

I find it very interesting that they show her smile turning red-after she accepted the apple. I think the red (as well all the red eyes) and smiles is Roo symbolism.

I been toying with the idea that Roo doesn't have a physical body myself. Surprisingly I forgotten about Eve when I been wondering this and focusing on Alastor.

My thoughts on it so far, but been too distracted to conform it in rewatches. When Alastor shadow takes life on its own, I think that's Roo manifesting in his shadow. To watch how things are playing out or to aid him. I remember in Alastor lore about the overlords, it was pictured his shadow was doing all the work. So it makes sense if actually Roo that brought them down with such ease by storeaway in Alastor shadow. Roo being his animated shadow is also a nice representation that he can't he separated by the darkness that he bonded to.

Ugh edit in bold. I just realized I was thinking too small. Roo may already be intermittently possessing Alastor. His song bit in the last song could been Roo the the whole time. And the animated shadow is the "evidence" he being possessed. (Along with all the red eyes out in the background) Roo may have more tangeablity being in control of Alastor, but is still severely stunted in terms of powers that they use to possess. So that can be her hunger for freedom to "unclip her wings" And wishing to pull the strings for grand scheme of things and revenge. She needs a more powerful body....a fallen sephium or a princess of Hell perhaps? I don't think it happen but not implausible.

I lowkey thought she was staging a set to possess Alastor. Forcing him to get things ready to and prepare him as a vessel and his own unwilling demise of his soul. Which Alastor is kept out of the loop on but already heavily suspects it regardless. Which is why he so frantic to trying to find a way out of contract before gets to that final step. But now hes weaken and does not have the aid of his staff so he has to tread more carefully but he doesn't have the time for that.

But Eve...no, that makes more sense. As I mention its insanely suspicious Eve hasn't been a player to the game yet. I mean, granted her soul is thousand upon thousands of years old, which meant she had to survive almost just as many exterminations. But I doubt a key character would be killed off well before the show took place.

The angle you threw in with Eve is a perfect plot set up. Imagine....the first sinner...redeemed. The motivation there as you pointed out. To make amends for creating Sins, bring evil to Earth and the creation of Hell. The publicity it would bring to the hotel. The amount of guest who would check in if the first sinner gets redeem. Its appears to be a win-win for everyone!

It's such a perfect setup for Roo to stowaway in Eve to finally bring their evil to Heaven doorsteps. I'm pretty sure, bring Heaven to its downfall is Roo final objective. Having the first sinner bring evil to Heaven is beauty poetry in Roo objective. I really like that idea.

I don't think Roo would have ill will to Lucifer, Lilith or Eve...since they unintentionally help her further her reach to Earth. Unless there might been additional lore when Lucifer fell into Hell and discover Roo they might been some conflict and he managed to contain the evil. By somehow taking away her corporeal body so she became more of a looming presence then a threat. unable to interact with the world properly. But Roo ancient, she'll find a way to to return.

[chickpea0]

Going to be real for a sec, just thinking outloud because I know this is a safe place and I need to get thoughts out. Veeerry long! Not a vent just a brain dump. do not bother reading this unless youre really reallyyy into biographies lol this is literally 1,915 words

I'm stuck inbetween minds at the moment. I keep asking myself if regression, or dreaming, isn't really for me. I found agere and petre when I was very young, about 14; it piqued my interest because I'm a very curious person, interested in different lifestyles and ways to explore the self but I also think that because I was just coming out of childhood even though I thought my childhood had ended years before. I was just growing out of being a tween and at that stage in life, it's really startling going from childhood to seemingly adulthood overnight and it's quite natural and common for people to want to cling onto things when everything is being shaken up like that.

Intamacy with people, vulnerability and emotional closeness is always somethign I've struggled with and felt like it was just out of reach so the idea of allowing myself to be back at a stage where I was raw, authentic and less closed up was really really appealing. Plus, the idea of people understanding that and guiding me and just being around me would mean they *really* like me and they're not just there because they have to be, even though I've never had a caregiver though I have had like 2 online friendships where I could be baby around them which felt quite good but I never quite felt satisfied. probably because it was online and neither laster over 3 months. I'm practically always masking and the idea of being weird (I mean this without negative connotation) and expressive really sounded amazing. I have also always always always wanted to be apart of a community but I just never have. No clubs or hobbies that made me feel welcome growing up, no proper friend groups that made made me feel at home, I think I've been in a lot of fandom/online community spaces just because I wanted to feel apart of something though because I was never able to contribute it just felt like a one-way mirror.

So!! I find a lovely community like this! With a focus on mental health, togetherness, working through things and taking time to appriciate things, it's great! I love you guys! I can even make moodboards and little posts and I have a cg blog and a slightly bigger blog where I help boost creators on here. I have mutuals!!!!! People follow me!!! We talk on tags and comments!!! I feel like I have insider knowledge and experience because I've had a lot of oppertuinty to reflect on life and mental health and even on regression itself. But thing is I do not regress often at all. When I do it's for split seconds. When I'm really sleepy, when I'm allowing myself to be vulnerable, if I'm having a weird spacey day. I'm not sure if it's more dissociation or a sudden wave of emotion or what. I think I'm just generally an immature person some times. I haven't grown up yet, I'm only an adolescent. It's not something I want to force because forcing things like this, especially if it is dissociation, can be pretty bad for your brain. Age dreaming is a different thing though.

For me I'm between a rock and a hardplace. I do not feel like I regress organically enough to be on here nearly as much as I am. I'm so tense that I feel like I can't relax or open up enough to enjoy even age dreaming. Brainfog, sure! But it's not regression. I also do not want to edge too far and go into maladaptive nostalgia terratory. I feel, lately, like I kind of need to say goodbye and thank you to my childhood but it's over now and that doesn't have to be a bad thing. I think there's such a focus- everywhere online not just here- on "how good" the old days were. People making heart wrenching nostalgia edits with slowed minecraft music and ambient noise just to rake in veiws and to pull at your own heartstrings. It's natural to seek solace and yearn for something that was so familiar and safe especially at a time where not only is daily life changing for the individual but also for society at large. But rose tinted glasses are not accurate and can be dangerous. Nostalgia should be something that makes you feel light and refreshed. When you hear a song that you haven't heard in years and go 'oh! I remeber! I remember what my brain was like back then' and smile and move on. Maybe taking inspiration from it.

But.

I feel like my nervous system is so fried that making any progess is really draining and proper healthy coping mechanisms never seem to stick. I also feel very isolated, having no irl friends at the moment and not having any purpose like education, work, volonteering, passions, whatever. These are all things I have experienced for well over a decade which is... obviously a very large chunk of my life so far. So I really do need something to fill my life with, a familer space with familiar ideals and stuff. You guys are great. You have such refreshing takes and it just feels so calm and kind here. At the end of the day despite feeling a bit repetative at this point for me, I do enjoy looking at life through this lense. This place has not changed much at all since I started my blog in 2021. It's honestly one of the most consistant things in my day to day life! God. even the streets are changing but it's nice to know I can log on here if I need some reliability.

And thing is, I don't know if it's related to my ASD or my trauma or lack of experience in the world or none of those but I just feel a few steps behind my peers. They are all acting on their life plans or getting out and being social or enjoying new relationships. And I'm perfectly fine taking things at my own pace and growing in my own way but I just don't fit in really. I genuinely feel like I'll hit my stride in my mid twenties or older. Not because I'll have more qualifications or be high up in a career, I just feel like that is when I'll really start knowing and feeling like myself. That's the age when people generally start to figure things out. Basically, I like it here because I feel like I'm in a more similar life state. my focus is on getting through the day and making my own steps. I'm fine as long as I'm growing even if I'm burnt out lmao. Healing for over a decade drains you and I feel like my mental capacity is so small at the moment because of it. Like. I can't pick up a book or a new hobby or a job whatever because ALL of my bodily, mental, spiritual, emotional energies are going into mending and stuff. I feel like a 29 year old preschooler lol. 5 o'clock shadow and a sippy cup. haha. I like it here because it's like easy mode. it's like a holiday for your brain.

I'm honestly not sure what the point I started off with was. I have sooo many thoughts swirling in my head. At the end of the day I feel so burnt out and like I said, with such a small bandwidth that I feel like even regressing or dreaming or even just thinking about it is too much. Like. I used to cope and regulate by imagining scenarios in my head, like fanfics in my brain when I needed a little comfort but now I just can't! I can't imagine myself with a dream job or in a fantasy world or kissing someone cute, I just don't have it in me. It's not like I'm super low or anything, I'm actually generally pretty stable at the moment. I think what I want right now is to not feel alone. I don't want a relationship per se, not sure if it'd be fair to start something with someone but having a nice social circle would be a big relief. I can't remember ever really... having that. I guess I'm esoteric, with a full plate. I had a nice group of friends in college for about 2 years but thats dead now, we got on each others nerves at the end. But it was nice while it lasted. Imaging having a caregiver or being one is one of the only ways I can barely scratch that itch of wanting to rely on someone. Like. It's so deep at the moment, wanting comfort and all that, that "normal" soloutions to that just don't hit hard enough. Like I could imagine having a really nice friend group but irl I would need to be in a healthy friendship for quite a while before it started fulfilling that need, so imagining someone coddling me like I am a child, like I am something to be cherished, not just valued but cherished, that hits harder. thats nicer to think about. also also also co regulation + company is something i really desire.

I feel like I am so entwined with this community, more than anything else these days. It's sort of got a grip on me. and i dont know how i feel about that. none of you guys know me. i have mutuals, nice mutuals and people who are in my notes but none of you actually know me. i think maybe this place is more of a fantasy than a reality for me. and that tells me i need to distance myself but what else do i have?

I've tried taking a break before, you might remember, it only ended up being a few months but it was nice to come back.

right thats basically it. I assume if you've made it this far, seeing as I'm not even writing to anyone I'm just emptying my brain, I assume you're a very curious person. Someone who likes to feel involved. Like meeee. If anyone has any advice or sage wisdom or anything you want to say at all, please go ahead. This post is basically a bunch of thoughts with little resolve. This isn't really something I want to bring up with my therapist because onneee, I'm embarrassed, twwwooo she has most likely no idea of what age regression this, in this context. like. the age regression they talk about in regard to mental and psychological contexts, its pretty different to all this. anyway. i have other things in therapy to talk about lol maybe one day ill bring up that i feel like a small child in certain situations but let her lead that conversation. ah so.

yeah like. yeah. hi. if this resonates, im glad you found that. yeah. yeahhh i dont know. i have a lot of stuff going on. nothing in my life is straight forward. hence the... want to simplify things. I'm really tired now, wow!

to conclude, I'm a baby not necessarily a regessor. I'm running on fumes. i have a weird relationship with agere and im very hot and cold about it. goo goo ga ga but also i want to be respected and seen as a capable adult. i need a hobby. i need to rest but blehhhhh.

Here's a puppy as a treat for reading it all

[leafkingofbirds]

Next chapter Preview: Eclipse Edition!

In honor of the total solar eclipse today, have this snippet I just finished writing! 😄

**this is still a first draft and you may find typos. But I am open to feedback & suggestions! 🥰

***

Somehow, Kieran winds up at the base of Sir Monty’s favorite tree. On his knees, his heart pounding, staring blankly at the dirt but seeing nothing. Too lost in his own mind and the troubles of his soul.

Give me peace, he begs whatever unseen force rules over life and death. Give me clarity. I must be everything Ella needs me to be.

But there is no divine intervention. Only himself, alone. As it has always been, since the death of his mother.

He would have sought his mother's grave, but the royal mausoleum is buried beneath the rubble of the destroyed Full Moon Chamber. 

Instead he has come to Sir Monty’s. The last parental figure he would ever have.

His oldest friend is gone to the tyrant’s side. Whether Oleander has betrayed Kieran or has some plan up their sleeve doesn’t matter. Oleander isn’t here to give any of their sage advice.

Dear Longclaw has her own heavy grief. Even her big heart is weighed down with the loss of not only the last of her beloved family – as abhorrent as Radiance was – but the loss of her own sense of self. It wouldn’t be fair to ask for her help, even if she was currently capable of giving it.

Ella would try to be there for him. But to go to her would be worse than dealing with it alone. Her heartless state is but more evidence of his failure and his guilt. 

“Mother,” Kieran gasps aloud without meaning to. A deep-set plea to a woman he had not set eyes upon since he was almost too young to remember and who will never answer his cries again. 

The word only opens the wound inside him, digging deeper, ripping open old wounds until they bled anew. His mother is the reason for all of this. Jack is the reason.

As if called by Kieran's very thoughts, he hears soft footsteps in the grass cautiously approach behind him. 

“So this is where you ran off to,” Jack muses. His voice is subdued. A hush has fallen over the entire place in the wake of the battle, an aura of death and defeat.

“Leave me,” Kieran growls without turning around.

Instead, the footsteps only come closer. To Kieran's shock and irritation, Jack kneels before the small square of stone at the base of the old, broken oak.

A stone marker had been installed at the base of the tree. Oleander had quietly decided upon the wordering and installed it themselves, after Kieran had irritably snapped at them “I don’t give a damn; do it yourself!” 

It was not enough to describe all that Sir Montgomery was in life, but then, no headstone would ever be able to capture the entirety of a man’s soul.

Here Rests the Most Honorable

Sir Montgomery Snow

Who Gave His Mortal Life

In Service to the Moon Court

For a long moment, Jack gazes at the headstone in silence, his expression intense and unreadable. He looks almost angry. 

Kieran braces himself to hear Jack say something vicious, and knows he won't be able to hold himself back this time if Jack speaks disrespectfully about Sir Monty before his very grave.

Then, Jack sighs deeply, hands on his thighs, and hangs his head. Kieran peers at him curiously.

“We have both suffered the loss of the most important people in our lives,” Jack says finally. He glances up at Kieran ruefully, his expression for once vulnerable and sincere. “Haven't we?”

Kieran can only glare at him. 

Jack looks back toward Monty’s headstone. “I want to say I regret what I've taken from you. But the truth is, if I had not killed Monty, he would have killed me. And I can't apologize for not allowing that to happen. Not honestly. Because I was not just fighting this battle for myself, and I owed it to those people in there that I would let nothing and no one stand in my way. No matter how noble.” 

There's a silence where Kieran considers leaping at him at closing his hands over Jack’s throat. But there isn't enough energy in him now. What would be the point? 

“But I regret the pain I have caused,” Jack says, in a way that makes Kieran think he's never apologized before in his life and it's physically painful for him. “I know that's foolish. I can't wish the past undone and know I would have changed nothing, all at the same time.”

“You wish it hadn't come to this,” Kieran manages to say, surprised at how rough his voice sounds, how close to tears. He can't even look at Jack.

“Yes.”

Kieran scoffs. “So do I.”

Not that it mattered what any of them wished. Wishes are futile things, even for Fae.

“Nothing I can say will undo the damage I've done. Believe me, I'm well aware,” Jack says bitterly. “But I want to say this anyway: I was wrong about you. I was wrong about so many things that it makes my blood boil to look back on it. About Sir Montgomery and Eisa. About the right way to fight for equality in this realm.”

“You were wrong about Ella,” Kieran reminds him snappishly.

Jack has the gall to look surprised. Then embarrassed.  “I…yes.” 

Kieran raises his brow expectantly, demanding a better answer than that. 

Jack sighs explosively and runs a hand through his hair. “I thought her addled at best, foolishly naive at worst. I thought you were like every other Fae I had ever had the misfortune of meeting, who had dazzled and enthralled an unwitting human into doing your bidding. But…you truly love her, don’t you?”

“With all that I am.” Kieran feels his hands clench into fists. “Ella has the most pure and genuine heart for others I’ve ever known a mortal to have. And a stubborn, inner strength that has never ceased to impress me. She is braver than any Fae I have ever met. That you misjudged her angers me even more than being misjudged. And that she is in my palace right now, heartless, where she should have been safe, angers me more than anything else.”

“You feel like you failed her.” It’s a statement, not a question. Jack gazes at him evenly.

“I did fail her,” Kieran snaps. “She felt she had no choice but to use the Immortality Curse, because this realm is so dangerous for mortals. I didn’t do enough to ensure she felt safe among Fae. I wasn’t able to break her curse, despite my promise that my love would be strong enough to save her. And yes, I ignored the threat of your Eclipse and the suffering you endured, as generations of Moon Court heirs have done before me. I own that mistake as wholly mine. But, Jack - it was your arrogance and prejudice didn’t want to believe Fae lives were in any way worth sparing. You came to kill us without knowing us. Without giving us even a chance.”

Jack’s brow wrinkles. “To be fair, that is exactly how mortals have been treated by Fae for the entirety of history.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

Jack looks contrite. “No. It doesn’t.”

“I'm glad we can agree on something,” Kieran mutters. 

“Perhaps that's why I was too late to save my father,” Jack muses quietly, as if to himself. “His innocent life, spent in payment for my sins. I live now only because you demand it, Kieran - else I would fall on that damned sword as penance. And I will do what I can to help fix this. But some things I can't fix. And for that…I truly am sorry.”

Kieran's eyes fill with tears, hot and angry. He can feel Jack’s gaze on him, and doesn't meet it.  His emotions war in such a furious swirling tempest he can't keep track of any of them - he doesn't even try to name them.

What strikes him, though, is how much of Jack's words mirror Kieran's own internal guilt. 

An innocent life paid the price of my arrogance.

I would fall on my sword for my failure.

Some things I can't fix.

Kieran senses himself at a fork in the road. He can do what his old self would have done - the bitter, broken, cold version that used viciousness to isolate himself and wallowed in his own misery - and rebuff Jack’s attempt to repent. Jack would live, but they would be forever strangers. Forever estranged.

Or he can be the man Ella always believed him to be. The man Kieran strives to live up to.

Kieran lets out a long sigh. “I can’t forgive you, Jack. Not yet. But I accept your apology. I believe it’s sincerely offered.”

“If nothing else, know that I am a man who means what he says.” Jack’s level gaze doesn’t waver. He shows no sign of discomfort from kneeling so long in the dirt, even though the gashes Kieran had delt to his flank are barely scabbed over. Up close, Kieran can see the disciplined way Jack holds himself. The quiet confidence of a true warrior. This has been his life's sole purpose, and Kieran realizes, just now, how broken Jack must also feel.

“We are two of a kind that way,” Kieran answers quietly.

Jack huffs a short laugh, then grows serious again. “Kieran…for what it’s worth? I’m sorry for what happened to Ella. I hope, one day, she will be restored. And on that day, I will ask her forgiveness as well.” Jack climbs to his feet and idly brushes off his knees. “I think my chances will be better if I wait until then.”

The harsh bark of a laugh that escapes Kieran's throat just then doesn't slow Jack's steps, and soon Kieran is alone again beneath this silent, doomed tree.

His laugh turns into a sob.

His hands claw the grass and hard-packed earth as if he could tear it away. Rip open the grave beneath his feet and demand it all to be different, for fate to change according to his will, for the chance to go back in time and undo his mistakes, to unravel all the terrible things that have happened.

But he’s powerless now, and his hands can no more open a hole to bury himself than they could bring back the dead. 

Kieran puts his forehead to the earth in defeat, and lets himself weep like he has not done in a hundred years.

[disturbedreams]

How do you write horror?

I actually had like a conversation with my friends abt this a little bit ago so I'll talk about it here- this is a very broad question so I am going to answer it to the best of my abilities (like, how do I write vs. how do I write horror), so,,, pls be patient with me haha.

So, to kind of lay the groundwork I've kinda come to the conclusion that there are maybe 3 types of horror writers/ways to come at horror?? Or at least, that's how it gets categorized better in my head! Inspired by a post where someone described Jacob Geller as an architect's mindset, I think the 3 main ways to come at writing horror are as follows;

- The Language

- The Philosophy

- The Architecture

Keep in mind that this is all like ENTIRELY my own opinion and just how I come at writing my favorite genre, & I was/am an on and off fic writer and that's where most of my style was able to be developed!

Understandably these categories do seem a bit random but I think the example I can use best to explain it is gore, probably?

So with gore & body horror as an example, I'll go in the order of Philosophy > Language > Architecture for it to kind of make most sense.

Philosophy - Gore is many things. A lot of times the human mind meets it with, "that's wrong- that's wrong, wrong, wrong!"- and it gets worse with body horror, which seems to almost make an art form out of it. It is grotesque and obscene, and it forces you to be vulnerable- all things the mind hates. Organs that were never supposed to see the light of day are now being exposed to air they were never supposed to touch- and it's incredibly disturbing and upsetting because this isn't supposed to happen.... and worse, the longer you sit in it all, and you let it fester, it starts to become a "What really makes us human?" kind of thing. Everyone's reaction to the initial reaction to horrifying vulnerability of viscera is different.  Some curiously engage with it, some will become obsessed with how intimate it is, some will still desperately want to get away from it. It's always a fun little "how will I write these gore scenes this time" & understanding how I want ppl to react, which brings me to the next bit- language

(P.S. no body horror in it, but if you do want a good horror book that delves into like the "What Makes Us Human?" bit of things, I rec Obscura by Joe Hart!! like it literally becomes an overarching theme in the book! A+)

Language - I spend a lot of time trying to put human experiences down on paper, and it just... doesn't work because language as a whole is not enough of a vehicle to get across all of my thoughts and my feelings on this one subject- this one subject that is, undeniably intricate (no matter what subject it is, at any point in time). With body horror or just generally terrifying scenes where I really need to get across what exactly is happening and why it's so terrifying and you should be scared too- it helps to find words that are as specific as possible to the moment, especially with gore, because it forces the character(s) and the reader to be vulnerable. I focus a lot on character's reaction to things as well, as a way to convey like 'holy shit this is NOT OK!!! I am not cool with this!!', and really- it wouldn't be a good story if I didn't intrigue myself a bit imo- whether I terrify, or I scare, or I just get myself obsessed... understanding the concept of what I want to get across as much as I can, so I can then spend as long as I want trying to get it across as accurately as possible in a way that will have others sharing my fear/intrigue/obsession... that is my personal goal!

Architecture - Your terror needs legs to stand on. Your dread needs legs to stand on. Fear/scares can be induced from a simple movie's jumpscare, or a couple of terrifying lines that build a scene quickly and get the ball rolling- but for good 'ol gothic terror it's a bit of a consistent slow burn that slowly grows over the course of the story. It's usually why the gore happens towards the end of a story if it's the climax of the story, or, in other cases, gore tends to be used as a way to break a character. It's not only about the structure of the story, it's about the structure of the character. When you develop a character it's like you've carefully constructed a small building- and in this case, the gore scenes are direct attacks on where this character's support beams would be. A building within a building.... within a building...? If you will.

Kathe Koja's short story The Neglected Garden (Extremities) is actually a perfect example of this, as it starts off with the gore straight off the bat- and from there it's a slow decline (in this story specifically, it's akin to watching a team of workers construct a house incredibly quickly, then being like "it doesn't seem that sturdy-" right when a storm comes by and the house itself sinks and gets *really* fucked up... and then from there starts to slowly deteriorate and crumble.)

I think this applies to writers as well lol- like, I'm definitely more of a language oriented horror writer because of how much I focus on my vocabulary, my sentences, my prose, etc- and not even in a way where grammar is my strong suit. In fact, I am like, incredibly bad with grammar and this post is probably a prime example of it! but I really try hard to get across a concept/idea with the tools available to me and I try to expand those tools when I can, because it frustrates me when there aren't enough words in the dictionary for "he screamed".

Outside of gore and body horror, I usually have a concept, and then I write the scenes were I'm very into the concept of it and what I want to be portrayed... and then I start expanding from there and building plot, etc, until I eventually sit down and write it in it's entirety- so my personal order tends to be; Philosophy, Architecture, then Language.

(And yes, these are all just fancy words for plotting and drafting but they help me think about it easier so pls be nice to me LMFAO)

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Hi! I really like your blog, and I hope this ask isn't insensitive in any way. Apologies in advance for the long ask, and it is totally fine if you choose to ignore.

I have ADHD, and recently my psychologist and I have been discussing I might also have autism. I meet all of the diagnostic criteria in social deficits/interactions, and I also have strong sensory issues.

The thing is, I also have some severe childhood trauma which I won't dump here, but the gist of it is that I was extremely, totally isolated as a kid (I was pulled out of school when I was 11, and my internet access was very limited, so ages 11-18 I had almost no interaction with anyone except my shitty parents) (I'm in my mid 20s now). From what I can remember before that, I didn't have any of the autistic social traits/symptoms that I do now, and I can connect a lot of my social traits back to that trauma (eg. I don't always understand social interactions because I went years without social interactions; I speak overly formally because I didn't have anyone to talk to and got most of my language from books; I have strong interests in some things because they were a comfort during that traumatic time period; I struggle with eye contact because I either wasn't allowed to or was traumatically forced to make eye contact during that period). I am also pretty sure that sensory sensitivities can be a symptom of ADHD (which I've definitely had since a kid).

But... I do still fit all the diagnostic criteria for autism. I've spent years in therapy since moving out, and massively improved my mental health. But many of my "social deficits" remain, because they don't bother me- even though they may have come from trauma, they don't feel like a trauma response now if that makes sense, that's just who I am.

All of this is to say: do you know if there is any evidence or resources on autism coming from childhood trauma? I'm almost scared to ask, because I feel like that might frame autistic people as all "traumatized" or who need to be "cured of trauma" or something. But I know I wasn't always like this, even though I fit the diagnostic criteria now. Reading about autism has helped me better understand myself and develop helpful coping mechanisms, which has in turn genuinely improved my mental health. I've wondered if it might be useful to just tell some of my close friends that I'm autistic, to help them better understand the way I think and function. Even though I'm like this due to trauma, I relate so strongly to everything I've read about autism and do fit the diagnostic criteria. (I scored a 140 on the RAADS-R, if that helps.) However, I also don't know if that would be a rude thing to do if I might not actually have autism.

In summary, do you know if there are any resources relating autism to childhood/adolescent development? Is this something that is even possible? Finally, would it be damaging in any way to autistic people if I told people I'm autistic when it might actually just be trauma?

Thank you and I'm very sorry for the long ask. I hope you are doing well and I really appreciate your blog, it has been an amazing resource. I do hope this isn't insensitive or an ableist way of thinking at all.

Hi there,

Unfortunately trauma and autism cooccur together. Many autistic people experience PTSD, myself included.

TW: Suicide/Trauma Mention

(I’ve been in two car wrecks, lost my uncle and biological mother, and even tried to commit suicide in 2019).

I found some information from Neurodivergent Insights that has an Infograph about this:

According to the article:

Autism and trauma co-occur at high rates. Despite how commonly trauma and autism co-occur, there is limited research on this, and it is rarely talked about in clinical training. ⁠Autistics are more at risk of PTSD due to several factors:

• We have more vulnerable neurobiology (more reactive nervous systems)

• Increased risk of victimization

• Sensitive sensory profiles that encode memory with more intensity

•The stress of navigating an allistic world.

Women and genderqueer people are particularly vulnerable to PTSD (Haruvi-Lamdan, 2020). Following is a summary of the research cited in the above image:

• Rumball et al. (2020) study found that approximately 60% of autistics reported probably PTSD in their lifetime (compare this to 4.5% of the general population).

• Haruvi-Lamdan et al., 2020 study found that 32% of their Autistic participants had probable PTSD compared to 4% of the non-autistic population.

• Fenning et al, 2019  research demonstrated that autistic children had more reactive nervous systems. This aligns with similar research that has identified the autistic nervous system to be less flexible (Thapa and Alvares, 2019). Less flexible nervous systems have a more difficult time coping with acute stressors and may contribute to increased hyperactivation of the nervous system following trauma.

• Neurodivergent (ADHD/Autism) neurobiology is more vulnerable and reactive: (Beauchaine et al., 2013)

• We are more vulnerable to social victimization and marginalization. In the Haruvi-Lamdan et al., 2020 females with autism (but not males) reported more negative life events, particularly social events, than typical adults.

• Brown-Lavoie et al., 2014 found that 70% of Autistic adults reported experiencing some form of sexual victimization after the age of 14 (compared to 45% of the control group).

I hope this helped answer some of you questions. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

[inkyearnings]

Being constantly exposed to relationships and romance, either in real life or in fiction, makes it hard to not be envious of what I have never had. Makes it hard not to imagine myself in that situation, makes it hard not to fall in love with a 'what if'. That might be the flaw of a vivid imagination. But it's not only envy I feel, or at least I wish to believe that, because envy is what bitter people feel, what ungrateful people feel.

I'm not ungrateful for my life; I quite like it, have fun in it most of the time, and strive to be the best of myself, but it doesn't take away from the fact that life is hard.

Sometimes, a project you work on fails. Sometimes, friends or family you wish would stay in your life, will leave. And sometimes, the stress or whatever negative emotion building up inside you gets you, like a snake waiting to pounce on its prey, unnoticed.

Usually, I can take it. I've taken much worse in the past than whatever I'm living through now, but it doesn't stop me from getting tired, doesn't stop me from wishing I wasn't alone through these.

To have an equal beside me, someone I can trust and who isn't supposed to leave me, would make all that easier. Even if all they could give me was their presence, I would know that person would be ready to stay beside me, listen to and help me if I needed it. What I long for, is someone more permanent than the friends I've had.

And maybe I'm wrong about this, as a friend told me, "It's better that you're single, being in a relationship makes everything more complicated." That might be true, in some, or even all, cases. It's true I tend to forget that being in a relationship requires a certain level of hard work, and obviously, vulnerability. A partner would have the power to hurt me; the reason they wouldn't use it against me is because they care about me, usually because of feelings. Feelings that I've never had reciprocated, or known that they were reciprocated.

Why is it that in the few friendships I had where I could envision taking it to the next level, where we spent hours alone either at a restaurant, in a metro, on a walk, just the two of us, the feelings never seemed to manifest in that friend? They either got a partner somewhere else, or we lost contact. Why did the 'something more than friends' always fail before I could try, leaving me to mourn a relationship I've never even had? Because goddamn it, my vivid imagination leaves me to hope for things that are too good to be true, but unfortunately isn't strong enough to give me the resolve to pursue the very people I imagine a future with.

Either way, I'm pretty sure love won't fall in my lap, but I can't force it. Oh, and love isn't necessary in life. So, I'm kinda conflicted about love right now.

[classificationhell]

Hey! I adore your work and hope you’re not pushing yourself just to make us content. Writers block is a bitch.

I just got to thinking how 2p! Alastor. If he is an omega caregiver in this AU, how would he handle his littles ruts? Would it be like a stereotypical alpha/omega dynamic? Alternatively, how would he deal with his own heats? I feel like an alpha little would be okay because of instinct, but still kinda overwhelmed, but a beta little would get extremely overwhelmed and be more likely to regress. Then be confused with why their papa appears to be in pain and needy and they struggle to help them.

I love this AU and it’s just got me over analyzing some things!

Thank you very much and I'm not pushing myself I don't think. I'll try and write for a different fic (since multiple of them are passed the deadline anyway) to try and reset myself a bit and not feel pressured or anything. I'm glad you're enjoying this though ^^ onto the Ask!

Oh, Alastor's 2p Little would also be an Omega (at least in my fic), Omegas aren't repulsed by each other during their heats like Alphas are to each other during their ruts, in fact really close unbonded Omegas will likely begin to psync up with one another. It's not uncommon in heaven for Omegas to help each other out during heats, weirdly enough, though one will take up the mantel of "temporary Alpha" in a way and take care of the other much like an Alpha would, whether that be using a sharable toy as a kind of strap on or if they're male presenting using their own cock. It can be a little more exhausting for both partners because once the one is satiated, the "Alpha" still needs to be, so they'd probably be riding or tribbing the person below them even if they're passed out. If they don't have a cock they'd probably be using their fingers, tongue, or a sharable toy or strap on. It's a very hot, messy, and over stimulating affair for one, if not both of them.

I've spoken on this a bit, but I don't think an Alpha Little could exist outside of heaven, or if they did, they'd be slowly going insane with the secondary gender and designation conflicting desires. Betas, hoelwever, are a thing and in some hypothetical situation we're Alastor were to go into heat with a Beta Little I feel like he'd have assigned somebody to watch them, but Betas, while they don't really have instincts, aren't completely scent blind and Little instincts can shut off due to high amounts of pheromones in the air (unless they're given a specific cocktail the V's have made to force them into littlespace but more on that with the staticmoth fic) so if a Beta can clearly smell it their Little side will temporarily shut off as a way of protecting their truly innocent side. At that point, they could go get Husk or Vaggie and figure out what to do if they don't understand whats going on (thpugh I feel like Alastor would've had a talk with them if he was about to go into heat). Even in heat, though, Alastor would never go as far as to assault his litte fawn so they have no worries. Though it'd probably be a weird sensation being the only truly sane one in a room and helping out someone who's heat drunk. Especially if that someone were as powerful as Alastor. However, let's not forget Alastor is not your standard Omega if he doesn't want you near him before his heat starts he won't want you near him during and he has used his state to lure out unsuspecting Alphas before just to slaughter them as they would've gladly assaulted the unfortunate Omega who was in heat. Since it is 2p his shadow is the grounded one, the one who keeps him sane and helping protect him even when vulnerable, and possibly even the one who takes care of him in his heat before Reader comes along, idk he might have had Husk help him out but strictly as a friend doing another friend a favor as he doesn't see Husk in the romantic light for whatever reason (I know the reason I just don't wanna get into it since this ask is already long enough and I am off on a tangent again >.>)