#i feel like im way too stream of consciousness to make anything actually helpful

[savetheghost]

wanna be put in a room with craft stuff for 10 years

[cartoonrival]

like after all that shite even tho it stretched him out like saltwater taffy naruto is truly not not not not mad at sasuke for any of it. he doesnt hold anything that sasuke did actually against him. in a technical sense hes like yeah you probably shouldntve killed those guys. but he fully blames sasukes circumstances and the pain that hes in for everything that he did. he cant stay mad at sasuke. rolls my eyes. cause he recognizes what drove sasuke to act the way he did and that the world is so so fucked and even if he should hold it against him naruto really does not want to he just wants his best friend back. sasuke tried to kill naruto because sasuke loves naruto and hates himself, and naruto recognizes that this is the reason. and that you have to be in so much pain to want to do that as badly as sasuke did, and he could feel it too every time he looked at sasuke or just thought about him he felt like he was being ripped in two. he realizes that sasuke has growing and learning and changing to do but he doesnt consider sasuke to have " put him through" anything like. naruto put himself through that and i think he'd be the first to tell that to you. im saving sasuke because i want to save him. that was the premise of the whole conversation with sakura in the land of iron like "why are you doing all this for sasuke" -> "because i want to". and i think if anyone tried to be like look what he put you through!!! he'd rip them a new one. which i mean a bunch of people sayig that to him is what pushed him over the edge in such a fashion that seeing sasuke face to face and swearing to die alongside him was the only thing that could bring him back from the brink.

anyways i just do not think sakura has the bandwidth (understandably) for that perspective considering i dont think she feels like she's choosing to go after sasuke in the same way that naruto does. and its not rightreally to call it a choice because obviously he doesnt get in bed every night and be like tonight i will think about sasuke and feel like im dying over and over again, but he decided to. this is two different posts but im stream of consciousnessing it into one. he very distinctly decided not to give up on sasuke i mean there was like. literally the scene where jiraiya was like drop it its not worth it go after your dream only a fool would keep going after sasuke now. and naruto says if thats what a fool is then ill be a fool my whole life. gag. anyways. obviously sakura wants to help sasuke 10000% she wants to help naruto she wants him back she wants the old team 7 back she loves sasuke etc im not trying to say none of that is true, but i dont think she feels like she is quite as active an agent in that decision as naruto does. while naruto thinks theyre on the same page about wanting to save sasuke because they both love him, sakura is quite quick to believe that naruto wants to save sasuke because HE feels obligated. she gets fed up with him for choosing sasuke every time over and over no matter what, she's sick of it! she cant do it anymore! she decides to kill sasuke because she feels driven into a corner, she feels like she has to because she DOES CARE ABOUTHIM and theres NOTHING ELSE FOR HER TO DO. SHE FEELS LIKE SHE HAS TO. ALSO part of her resolve to kill him is that she feels guilty for leaning on naruto so mcuh and relying on him to fix things, so she wants to deal with this situation for both of them which makes this like. very potently an obligation for her. she is killing him as (in her eyes) a noble act. she's tired bro SHES TIRED!

she drops it because naruto gives her hope that theres another way, not because she shares naruto's refusal to accept that there ISNT another way; she has to be shown what it is (understandably so, narutos route is bonkers insane that boy is unwell.) she has absolutely been put through the wringer BY sasuke more than naruto has (in terms of their own povs; in actuality idk im not commenting on that) and chasing after him feels less like an active choice on her part and more of an obligation to the memory of the old team 7, especially in the tail end of shippuden. and again she doesnt understand why sasuke acted the way that he did like naruto does, so immediately the room for understanding is way more narrow on her end in terms of blaming his circumstances rather than him. so for her to be not really able to stand him and way less quick to drop it all, in comparison to naruto, makes soooo so soosoo much more sense than whatever the fuck happens actually. she should be so mad

[a-big-mess-of-a-person]

Ive been in such a depressed fucking state lately. I'm bored of everything. Nothing I do makes me feel better. I'm bored. Everything I love doing feels like a waste of energy and time and I get bored quickly. The things I do normally when I'm bored aren't working right now. Not even scrolling through Tumblr dot com is helping right now.

I like listening to the rain though. It requires no effort or thought. Listening to the raging storm that's just outside my window. That's nice.

I just want something to hook my interest. Something to make me want more. Something to make me feel like I'm actually enjoying my day and not just wasting it away scrolling through endless streams of content, posted by people just out there doing their best.

Everything feels like too much energy. Everything is boring, uninteresting and meaningless. I just want to feel some semblance of joy right now. Why is life so miserable.

No. Its not Life. I know it's not Life's fault I feel this way. It hit me right after I typed the period on that sentence. I know I cant blame Life. Life didn't do anything wrong, it's not fair for me to blame it. Sorry Life, I didn't mean to take my annoyance out on you. I know you want what's best for me. I know you want what's best for me and I'm upset I can't find it within me to do those things.

Great now I've personified Life. I think I want to be friends with Life, if I'm being honest. Seems like a pretty chill thing. I've now decided that my new friend Life uses it/its/thing pronouns. Life doesn't really have a need for gender or sex really.

I mean. Nothing really needs sex or gender. Plenty of organisms out there can reproduce asexually. So do we really need sex and gender? Yeah it makes the process more convenient and interesting, but do we actually need it? Idk I'm not a biologist. Just a guy who's really fucking bored and depressed.

Oh hey, that's the first time I've referred to myself as a "guy". That's nice.

I think that's nice because I'm pretty sure I'm transgender (ftm) and I just haven't accepted myself yet. Like, I have the capacity to understand that I share many feelings and tendencies with trans guys, but I feel like there's some part of my brain that is still in denial and not accepting of myself. Idk, the little voice in my head who plans out all my sentences as I type them said "I'm just a guy" and it felt nice to hear that... in my own head....

How many voices do you have in your head? I have 3. I can't necessarily prove it, but please just trust me on this, I've spent a lot of time thinking about it.

Theres the voice that is my inner monologue, it just is saying things all the time. I don't control what it thinks. I think. That voice, I call it the upper voice, just thought of that sentence. Then it contradicted itself as I thought "well isn't that voice just me? That's the primary voice. That's just me, right?" And so now im confused. Ok. I do not consciously choose what that voice says. It's the voice that tells the other voice (the middle voice I call it) what to think.

The middle voice is what I tell myself to think. The upper voice thinks out a sentence for it to say and it does that. They can speak at the same time. They do speak at the same time most of the time. I consciously choose what that voice says. I can tell them a part because they feel different when they speak and I can consciously think one thing with the middle voice, and still hear the upper voice narration.

Then there's the front voice. It doesn't speak all the time, just occasionally. It is the voice that says all the things I notice. Like, it is what tells my eyes where to look if upper or middle don't. I'm not completely sure if it exists, but it has a very particular feeling when it does speak. And when it speaks I can't hear it like I can with the others, I just know it's speaking. Nothing can control what front voice says. I can't, upper can't, and middle certainly cannot. I seriously don't even know if it does exist. It's like a kid at school who you know is there, people talk about them, you hear people talking to them in the halls, but you have never had a conversation with them. You know the name, but you don't actually know who they are. It's weird. Front voice is like a presence that I know is there, but I just can't hear or control. Sometimes I wonder if it's just a different part of my brain hiding itself from my conscious mind. The brain can do that. Your brain can repress traumatic experiences so it doesn't affect you. It's like there's a wall between middle and upper voice, and front voice. It's weird.

Sorry. This entire thing is weird. I don't even know what I'm trying to get at. I think I'm just trying to distract myself. I'm so bored. I am so miserable.

Ok I'm really tired. I'm gonna add some stupid tags to this and go to bed.

Nighty night

[thesherrinfordfacility]

#pre-fall scene#all im saying

Myabe I'm being dense but what exactly are you saying?

oh god okay anon i'll be honest but even i don't really know what im saying!!!✨ well no, wait, i do but essentially im gonna need to use this ask to parse it out (and save @teddybearbutchh from being spammed with my stream of consciousness)

so, let me be clear - im open to any take on this line. we're clear, right (and was laid out brilliantly in that post!) that aziraphale seems to know something about miracling love that the archangels and crowley do not - this is an experience unique only to him (as far as we're aware). it's something he has presumably tried to do, and seen the lack of desired result, to be able to reach this conclusion. and in order for him to get away with the lie to the archangels, its something he knows they won't have done. pretty obvious summary, but bear with me - it helps me lay out my thoughts!!!

now look, it could be that he's tried to miracle crowley in love with him. it could be that he's tried to miracle himself out of love with crowley (heartbreaking). it could be that he's tried to miracle two humans in love with each other. but here are my thoughts on these three things:

i don't personally hold the belief that they've been in love with each other since eden. ive talked about it in other posts, i won't go on about it, but their interactions through time, for me, have been them falling in love with each other in a rather organic way. some of those interactions towards the beginning of their story have been stilted, cold, even arguably antagonistic at times - that's my personal read, anyway. so, if we hold that aziraphale didn't realise he was in love until 1941, it makes no sense, for me, for him to have attempted miracling crowley in love with him between these points...? i also think 1941 is where aziraphale realises that crowley at least feels something for aziraphale in kind - he saved the books! - and this gives aziraphale some sort of... hope? (right up until 'oh shit, we're too close now and it actually might have Consequences - "you go too fast for me, crowley"). so yeah, i don't see, personally, any point in this history where this version of the attempted-miracle might have happened. (edit: sorry, to clarify - 'this history' being between the beginning and essentially modern day)

second one? okay look, this kills me. i hate it (i love it), and i could see this being the case - a bit of a bait-and-switch, that it wasn't making people fall in love, it was that aziraphale couldn't handle being in love. horrendous thought... but if we go with this - again, where is the point where aziraphale would have attempted this? well, the only point for me would be between 1941-1967... and that would make sense!!! but... is it in aziraphale's character to do this? personally, i think not. imo, i think aziraphale would see being in love with crowley as a gift - one that hurts, definitely, but one that he is honoured to have. he's a being of love, can sense it as easy as... well, breathing - and i don't think it's something he'd wish away. lmao @ tennyson, mad lad: "it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all." (he's definitely read, and probably liked(?), tennyson, if his line re: the kraken is anything to go by... god absolutely has, too)

this is absolutely possible - 100%... but for what feels like a pretty important line, especially in the romantic-plot-context of s2, wouldn't it have been important to see this happen? to have seen an instance where aziraphale may have tried to miracle a couple in love, and it have failed?

which brings me to the pre-fall scene, because it is the outlier in all of this, imo. aziraphale starts off very polite with AWCW (angel who crowley was), but as soon as AWCW starts becoming... yk, bubbly and excited, aziraphale's entire demeanour changed - he's suddenly eager to interact with him, tell him his name, and establish a connection. if nothing else, it's an instant crush for aziraphale, an immediate moment of '...oh shit, he's cute-cute', and this carries throughout the entire scene... and isn't reciprocated.

now, i don't necessarily think this is the moment where aziraphale would have attempted to miracle AWCW in love with him - in fact, i have to wonder if it was a conscious miracle at all? - but aziraphale seems both pleasantly surprised and... a little expectant? that AWCW is talking to/about him?

and has a rather rude awakening... so idk, perhaps out of angelic innocence/not-thinking-things-through/subconsciously willing it, tantamount to a miracle... aziraphale was hoping for AWCW to 'fall in love' with him back? or at least, pay back the same kind of attention that he was paying AWCW? and obviously it didn't work, so aziraphale knows - by s2 - that miracles don't work like that?

this is all a musing, im not at all firmly set on this and am happy to be argued (nicely!) back on it, but i think... potentially... it has some merit?✨

[sajaffery]

3...

i have to come up with a different proverb. maybe a new one. this is harder then i thought. but im really enjoying doing it. it feels like a wrting exercise. shit! it is a wrting exercise and i hate those. i absolutely hate them because they feel gimicky and unimaginative. but i came up with this on my own. so is it unimaginative? wait isnt there something called free association writing? is that what im doing right now? im not sure. i dont think youre allowed to think in that you’re just supposed to write and write and write and write. but how can you write without thinking? okay charger has been plugged back in and i can stop and think again. full disclosure by the way i am cheating to a certain extent because i keep editing every fifth mistake i make. im still leaving a lot in there to make this feel authentic. i felt like adding an emoticon there. cue self loathing. but no wait. old white men dont like emoticons do they? that good we like that. but young white girls do like emoticons. and justin bieber. dont know which way to turn now. lets move on. and i’m blank. i cant get justin bieber out of my head. good thing its not young white girls because that would be creepy. andd liable. is liable the right word. i want to google but i cant. new rule! no googling allowed. just train of…no no no. we cant use that either no trains allowed. old white men use trains. river of thoughts? cheesy. to similar to stream of consciousness, which isnt so bad because Virgina Woolf is a dead white woman. and i hate to love joyce. Love Dubliners. Love the idea of Ulysses, despite never getting past page 50 and not understanding what the hell happened in the forty or so pages i do read. except a young jesuit was or wasnt shaving. no word count either. new rule. im always checking word count to make myself feel good but we wont be doing that anymore. but i cant do this in the mornings anymore. not when i have to write. i mean seriously write because i would like to get published one day. read my name on the cover of a book. a hardback thak you very much because i do still love those (dead white men be damned) even if i dont particulalrly like paying for them. 15.99 for a book is ridiculous. especially when you can get it for 1p plus shipping costs in a few months time. i just cheated again. i deleted a whole paragraph i dint like anymore. its just felt repetitive like i was just telling you the same thing all over again in different word. filler. and we don’t like filler. its something EL James would use. i’m so glad EL James has become the by word for bad literature. she fully deserves it and im not just saying that because shes made a shit load of money. it does help though.it also helps that everyone seems to know who she is. James Patterson is equally shit, actually hes a different kind of shit. those alex cross books werent too bad to begin with. they certainly made good movies. anything with morgan freeman is a good movie. i hope if god does exist he does look like him. i wouldnt mind listening to him for all off eternity then. but then he started buying up unpublished manuscripts, polishing them up and printing them as his own with the real author getting a co-write. that fucking pisses me off. and he has the nerve to defend it by saying that he’s helping young unpublished authors. no you’re not asshole youre just printing money and using struggling authors just like every other arsehole looking to make a quick buck is. but you cant badmouth patterson because most nonreaders don’t know about him. but everybody knows EL James. god bless anal beads. okay im back. its the same day but i just posted this went downstairs to make some more green tea and came back up to add a little more to it. had two slices of chocolate cake too. i thought i was eating more because i was having a hard time writing but apparently i just like cake. and stuffing myself to point of explosion. edited slices and explpsion. there must be a way to switch off the squiggly lines that come up while im wrting this. typing. i’m only typing this.

[txicgf]

okay..... it is 5:30 am and idk how long I'm gonna write cuz i only seem to be able to articulate myself properly when i don't feel very good and i in fact feel great right now lol so ....

but. im sitting in the Boy™'s bed and he's asleep right next to me and im not giddy per se?? but it could almost be excitement if i let myself feel that rn but i wanna try to settle down and sleep agshdgdhd ..... i just. hoo boy i like him a lot. a lot a lot a lot.

it's really crazy to think about before and how different it is, yet some things are still the same sgdbdb.... not very much but the gut feeling i have about him always remained the same. that he's good lol idk it's not really a words thing it's just. the tug. amber calls it the zing like from hotel Transylvania and i think that's also a good word for it. that tug towards him rests squarely at the bottom of my stomach where the hot ball of lead usually resides.............. but right now that ball of shitty feelings is quiet, if not gone completely sometimes gahsgdhd .... it's not just because of him and i don't want to credit my personal growth/progress to my relationship towards him but he does help. he makes me happy. really happy. it's just easy i guess? it feels like even in the weirdest of spots we're the same. we're so similar,,,, down to shit we do unintentionally at the same time without even realizing the other is doing it. but even then, there's these little bits of difference that i think help even us out. he's stupid and funny and we have almost the same sense of humor and learning anything about him makes me smile and he makes me wanna get better so i can stick around for the plans we make and he's got a fascinating brain and i love when he stream of consciousness talks to me even if it feels incomprehensible at first, but i still end up getting it usually. he's great with words and i like it when he teaches me things and i like it when we play video gayme together and i like just ..... being around him. being in the same room as him i feel like makes me light up like a Christmas tree, and even when he's asleep next to me and it's almost 6 am and i SHOULD be sleeping, i don't want to (even if im trying anyways cuz i have to start doinf that lol) bc im just so calm and happy. maybe im being too much, and i probably am- but these feelings have been creeping in the back of my mind for months and i think maybe pushing it down for a long time just made em. grow. idk. he's my best friend and i just. he's my person. not in the exclusive way or the he's a possession of mine way, i know that wording makes him a little uncomfortable, but idk it's how i describe it!!!!!!!!!!! he's the person i wanna spend my time with, he's the person i want to tell everything first, and he's the person i trust the most. i don't have to be his person, but he's mine in that sense. just the one i feel most comfortable and happy with y'know?

god reading this all reminds me of the shitty cringy fluttery bullshit i used to write about in middleschool before i got all jaded and shit (haha, pun). i have a better head on me now and some pointers as to what to do and what not to do, but it's,,,,,, it's really really nice to feel the tug again and it's really really nice to think so fondly of someone so freely. it's nice to be giddy and hopeful and to choose to trust and actually listen to it. maybe it means more to me and im a little too attached, but it makes me wanna happy cry thinking about all the times he proves my anxious bullshit wrong and it's scary to feel loved,,,, but i think i do? it's really, really fucking nice to be happy for a change and not on my own. it feels nice to feel like i can rely on someone if i really need it. oh god i totally did tear up UGH i just. i really appreciate him and all he does for me. it's scary and it's weird and i am so fucking terrified of fucking it up but im learning. and im happy it's him out of all people that ended up taking that spot in my heart. i really wanna sleep now and i think i got the excess emotion out lol to sleep............ just god DAMN im saying the best combo of activities while hanging out are zombie video games with an intermission to get railed on the floor<3 and then snacks and ADVENTURE TIME. fuck. that shit has me ready to drop down on one knee i swear to fucking god. im living the god damn life rn.

i think it's really funny that this entire post is kind of caused by specifically zombie video games and ;) ;) ;) midway through. what the fuck was that. that was so fun

okokok bye for real now

[domosakis]

[TARO-222] insatiable, pure love!

★ this is inspired by a hentai that was turned into a porn LOL i pretty much just rewrote it the whole first half but then i get bored of it and made it my own story at the end so sorry if its confusing but i spent a lot of time on it so i hope you like it!! ♡

✭ words: 1.9k !! cw: extreme dubcon, borderline noncon, i can't tell who is insane in this story, toxic relationship, assault, public sex, reader is feminized, lmk if i forgot smth omg im so sorry

‘i didn’t really want to do it… at the beginning.’

at least shotaro tells himself that, whether it’s true or not. he took the train home after practice like always but you were there. you looked so cute in your uniform but he couldn’t help but notice how sensual your body made you look. plaid skirt barely reaching the top of your thighs and a thin white blouse that might as well have been made with tissue.

he was addicted as soon as he saw you. he felt the need to go home right away, thoughts of making you scream plaguing his mind. stress, deadlines, the pressure of his academy… he deserved a little happiness right?

suddenly the train stopped and shotaro took the opportunity to dramatically fall towards you, your back against his. his hand pressed against your ass, moving your skirt up showing your panties to anyone who looked your way.

his inner monologue was just a stream of excuses he made to keep touching you. so soft… and even though he knows it’s not right he doesn’t make even an attempt to stop.

‘again… another idiot.’

you wondered how far he would go today, after all you did need to get home and start preparing dinner. you didn’t resist instead letting your mind wander to your daily chores and responsibilities, you just hoped your stop came soon.

suddenly you were yanked out of your thoughts, your body carelessly being tossed into the position he wanted and his hands came to grab at your breasts. he wasn’t gentle at all in the way he handled you but at least he wasn’t being completely rude. you’d let him do what he wanted as long as he stayed quiet. he’s not really hurting me like the others so what’s the worst that could happen?

shotaro let himself get brave, after all you weren’t denying him. if anything you were making it too easy. he let his hand slip under your panties to feel your cunt directly. he only grew more confident when he felt how wet you were.

you didn’t understand why you felt this way, you could say it was your body’s natural reaction but then how did you end up with this stranger in the love hotel down the street?

strange men doing what they wanted to you wasn't what you would call a foreign experience. maybe it was because you didn’t dress all that modestly, maybe it was your body or maybe you were just an easy target. whatever it was you definitely weren’t able to defend yourself from it and you ended up in a lot of rough situations.

this felt different though. okay sure so maybe he still molested you on the train without any communication but… he looked your age, and cute, and he didn’t call you mean names or hit you, and he even took you to this nice hotel instead of taking you against the urinal in a seedy bathroom!

maybe you needed to raise your standards.

whatever. it was too late now, this man (whose name you still didn’t now) had you laid underneath him, playing with your body however he wanted and you got the slight feeling he hadn’t touched anybody else in awhile at least. he took his time massaging your tits and all you could do was writhe beneath him.

“do you feel good?” shotaro asked you once he had your top half completely bare. you didn’t answer and turned your head to the side to avoid his gaze.

“no? your nipples are so hard though…” it was true your body was responding to everything he did but you didn’t want him to know that. still, it didn’t do much to deter him and suddenly his hands reached to pin yours next to your head, his mouth attaching itself to your breast.

you couldn’t help but moan out then, your hips bucking to meet his. your body had never been played with like this before and you needed more. he complimented your body and it made your heart swell in a twisted way.

“fuck. why are you so wet?” he laughed at you but you were distracted by his fingers playing with your clothed clit.

“you’re so cute, i need to see more.” you could barely see only feeling him spread your legs apart and taking off your panties roughly leaving only your skirt bunched around your waist. and before you knew it he was fucking into you.

‘this can’t be bad right?’ shotaro thought. ‘they’re so wet they must be enjoying this’

he could barely hold himself back grabbing onto the skirt around you and using it to fuck his dick into you harder. his thrusts were fast and unrelenting and you tried to say no but nothing comprehensible came out of your mouth.

you could already feel him deep within you and you thought you would cry once he pushed your leg to your chest, taking you sideways.

“no i can’t! i can’t!” you managed to cry out but it didn’t matter anyways, if anything it felt like it made him go harder. he let himself stay deep inside you for a bit, enjoying the way your body twitched around him before flipping you onto your stomach.

he took his time teasing you, rubbing the head of his cock against your cunt until he finally listened to you begging him to stop. you were so far gone at that point only able to focus on the feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls. it was almost painful how fast he rubbed against you but his tip was reaching inside you so well.

you almost felt yourself losing consciousness before he pulled out, cumming across your tits and letting some hit your face. your body wouldn’t stop twitching and you realized you had cum as well, the feeling of your pussy clenching around nothing making you feel outrageously empty.

you expected to open your eyes to an empty room, left alone to clean yourself up and get home. instead you were very surprised to see the same man who had fucked you to the edge on his knees, his hands together begging for forgiveness.

“i’m so sorry! please forgive me!” you could hear him mumbling to himself and you almost felt bad for him.

“i’m so terrible, and i didn’t even use a condom… if you get pregnant… i’m so sorry!”

you had quite literally never been in this situation before and you were afraid the man was about to burst into tears.

“uhm… it doesn’t matter really.” you said before looking away. now shotaro was taken aback so you kept going before he could say anything.

“well it does matter, you shouldn’t assault girls but uhm…” you had no idea how to explain this.

“truthfully it’s really easy for me to be attracted to you, and i’ve gone through a lot worse…” you started going into detail about your past experiences and shotaro was growing increasingly confused and worried about your mental state.

“anyways today felt different, like you didn’t cum inside me! that’s a first and… i even came. i felt like you were gentle.” shotaros mind started to reel at the idea of the things you would let him get away with if you thought that was gentle and even when you’re praising him for doing less then the bare minimum he could only think of worse things. truly terrible.

you kept going.

“i won’t call the police and… i felt really good today.”

shotaro thought he was going to die, he just assaulted you and you were saying these things. he could feel himself getting hard again and before he could stop it he was back on top of you.

you liked it. someone like you was actually attracted to someone like him. he couldn’t pass the chance to take you again. he was going to play with you as much as you let him.

after shotaro had once again taken you how he liked he, once again, went through the five stages of grief begging for your forgiveness. you were too fucked out to comfort him at the point and he quickly left leaving you with fare for the ride home.

he decided to leave the whole incident behind him, citing it as a life lesson learned. (even though he should’ve known that assault was bad without having to do it but, whatever.) he promised himself that he would forget about that kind of thing and focus on dance. that is until he ran into you once again.

you greeted him first, before he could run away and that action alone confused him. you looked so cute just like the first time he saw you, but this time you were in a pink tank top and short denim skirt. equally as irresistible. you guys actually made small talk at first until shotaro couldn’t hold it in.

“what happened last night… would you want to do it again? i’ll be gentle!”

you smiled weakly. “if you say so.”

you gave him a blowjob in a bathroom stall before he took you back to his dorm.

in his defense it was very gentle, he took his time with you leaving hot kisses all over your body. you didn’t know what to do with yourself you’d never had sex like that before. he was sweet and thoughtful and you found yourself wanting to hear his voice and feel him more and more.

you wanted him to feel the same way about you. you wanted him to think about you for more than your body. you wanted him to crave every part of you. you felt yourself get lost in the feelings you were developing for him. you pressed your hands against his chest when he moved to enter you.

"please… i want to make you feel good too.” shotaro just stared at you slightly confused before he responded.

“you make me feel so good baby, i think i’m addicted to you.” it’s possible he said more but that’s all you needed to hear. you reached your arms around him and pressed yourself as close to his body as you could.

at that moment you could start to forget the circumstances in which you met. shotaro was so sweet to you now and he wasn’t mean to you then. would it be too much to hope for a relationship with this man? you could imagine letting him use you whenever he wants keeping him satisfied and he would be kind to you in return.

you wanted to kiss him so bad, you were staring at his lips and he thankfully took the hint grabbing your hair to pull you impossibly closer to him. it made you so happy. having shotaro as your boyfriend so no one else could mess with you. and he makes you feel so good…

shotaro loved the look on your face. you looked absolutely obsessed with him and that’s how he wanted it. he felt so lucky that you accepted him, any guilt that he previously felt was totally gone, now he just wanted to have you near him all the time. have you as his and make sure everyone knew.

you were perfect for him. so responsive and eager to please. you loved everything he gave you and he forgot anything else mattered when he saw you.

at some point he knew this was bad. the way you met and how you got to this point. but you didn’t care so why should he? he’ll take advantage of your past to make sure that you’re thankful for everything he does to you.

[gureishi]

hii i got a request for a Saeran fic recently and im STRUGGLING. i’m a Saeyoung girlie and so i don’t really see the appeal of Saeran because i always think of him as Saeyoung’s brother first and foremost.

your Saeran fics are some of the only ones i’ve read and enjoyed, so i was wondering if you had any advice for writing Saeran as someone who loves and writes for Choi twins. thank you lots!! ❤️❤️❤️

Ohhhhh, I relate to this! And thank you so much for reading and liking my writing—I appreciate you and also you're making me blush 😳

I too only wrote Saeyoung for ages before I ever wrote anyone else! Here's some of the things that help me write the other characters (even though there's only one I fantasize about):

I like to come up with an MC—who isn't me—who works well with the character in my mind. If the request is for someone you know, try thinking of some specific characteristics of theirs and imagining how the character (Saeran, in this case) would react to them. I write Saeran for the people who I know love him (in a...less than brotherly way) and that helps me tune into the way he'd act when he's in love.

I also think it could help to identify some of the characteristics of his you enjoy in other people's writing. If you particularly like when he's written soft, or teasing, or needy, or wistful—or anything else you please—see if you can convey that same sort of mood in your own writing.

It always helps me to start with the character's stream of consciousness, even if I never actually use it. What's going on in Saeran's head when he's looking at the person he loves? What does he want? How does it make him feel when they look in his eyes?

My darling Saeran wife @luxielle told me a long time ago that I have a Saeyoungian approach to writing Saeran, and I take a lot of pride in that. You can only see the characters through your own eyes—so the very best thing you can do (I think) is to write them in the unique, specific way that only you see them ❤️

[shoezuki]

okay okay okay the second thingi wanna mention in regards to that scene (hi hello more rambles yay enabling) is less to do with that scene and more about what happens after.

from a meta pov obvi they were planning to go totem hunting (tech makes a joke about there goes their plans or something) so obviously the whole thing was semi planned (tho.... I wonder just how much techno knew in terms of the gifting.)

but in text the important thing i think to note is twofold and is something I've seen interpret incorrectly in multiple ways.

first and foremost, its ranboo who mentions the mansions. he beings it up after the gift as a reason to leave. hes giving techno an out, a way of saying, here's your gift im going to leave now, this doesn't have to mean anything, it can be (as you mentioned) a business transaction.

this also wouldn't be ooc for either of them either. i can't remember exact vods or anything, but in most interactions they're one off (the longest one i can recall is when ranboo bullies tommy with techno when he helps them get more wood). like, they haven't done a full stream together so it makes sense that they would have this interaction and move on.

ranboo gave techno an out and /techno didn't take it/

because that's the other part i see interpreted incorrectly. ranboo didn't ask techno to accompany him, ranboo is more than capable of going and getting totems himself (and it would be more beneficial to him as well since he'd get more totems), he doesn't need help. he doesn't feel afraid by being alone on his quests like tommy did.

(and thats where I feel like people are a little unfair on tommy. part of it was him viewing techno as a weapon, but he also genuinely. couldn't be alone because he was afraid. but thats a different post.)

no, what happens is ranboi mentions it and techno starts asking for info (can I see the map, how far is it) and then (Edward dies akbdjd) techno offers to go with him. actually, im rewatching the vod because its become one of my favorite streams, and he doesn't even ask hes like, yes let's go together. where are we going? the nether?

and then hes like "I suppose I could farm some totems. I guess my day is kinda free right now." thank u tsudereblade, its 100% not because you care no no no not at all.

basically, ranboo gave a gift that said "you dont have to trust me" and then gave an out that said "you don't have to stick around this can be just a business transaction" and techno said "ah, oh no, whatever shall I do, I guess ill just help you since you're asking"

fr tho it says so much about techno that even despite the pain and the betrayal that hes willing to help out so quickly, even if he is holding himself back (consciously too id say) from trusting ranboo completely just yet

you are so so right that stream is So good its like .aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

like one thing we see with phil and techno is phil never presses him to do things either. and phil is arguably one a the Only people we seen do this. but now theres ranboo too who Gets It

[the-sympathetic-villain]

Choking in the Dark

AO3 | Next | Masterpost

Description: The prompt for this one-shot is this animatic, "Wires" by Anna Midnight, which I highly recommend you watch before reading.

Characters: Logan, Remus Word Count: 2769 Chapter Warnings: Heavy Angst, Choking, Self-Esteem Issues/Self-Deprecation, Injuries, Dark but Not Necessarily Unsympathetic sides, Abandonment, Self-Harm, Angst with an okay(?) ending (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

General Taglist:

@somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck

-

   I can’t breathe.

   Hours.

   How many hours?

   I've been here for so long.

   Logan's lungs ached. On his knees, he hung his head. The weight of his head pulling against the thick rubber cable around his neck, making it even harder to breath. He stayed there for a moment, swaying as he ignored the voice in the back of his mind screamed for air.The voice became increasingly persistent until he was forced to raise his head as the edges of his vision blurred.

   It doesn't matter.

   Thick wires cut deep into his wrists, a solemn comfort that he was even alive. The fading had started hours ago, starteing in the tips of his fingers and slowly claiming his body.  He held up his hand. The translucent appearance of his digits a metaphorical punch to the gut as he jerked his head, the wire around his neck tightening like a noose.

   I'll do you all a favor and spare you my company.

   If he'd known the words would be some of his last, he would have chosen a subject more interesting to lecture on than Peter Singer's take one Effective Altruism. He could have talked about anything. Astronomy, chemistry—The others barely acknowledged his contributions as it stood. The topics may not have been relevant, but at least he would have been able to choose the lesson.

   His last lesson.

   Logan whimpered as the thick wire tightened around his neck, cutting into the already raw skin. He wheezed a stiff breath against the heavy piece of rubber threatening to crush his windpipe.

   Not that it would have had an impact on any of them.

   The piles of dust scattered across the floor around him remained a stark reminder that his words fell flat on the ears of those he most needed to hear them. Thomas—His friends—

   If that's even what they consider me at this point.

   After all, he was here. No one had noted his absence in the hours he'd been gone.

   Why would they?

   Clearly, his words were so unnecessary they should simply be skipped. He growled breathlessly in frustration as the binds around his wrists pulled taut. His arms were stretched out, pulled upward like some sort of sick marionette hanging limply on his knees. He glared into the empty space around him. His ‘room' as the others loved to refer to their personal corners of Thomas' mind.  His room. The awe-inspiring place had once been full of chemistry books and stars and all the little things that made Thomas curious. Logan had been collecting them since Thomas was a child, but it was gone, turned to piles of dust around his room as Thomas' search for knowledge fall further and further out of his mind.

   Unimportant.

   Just like him.

   He couldn’t help the sick smirk on his face as the wires tightened once more around his throat, jerking his head upright. He swallowed a shallow breath, barely drawing oxygen as his airway strained to remain open.

   Unwanted.

   Logan snarled bitterly as memories surfaced forcefully in his mind.

   Not that any of you care, but I am unharmed—

   I'll do you all a favor and spare you my company—

   His own words from this video echoed in his mind as he choked on his own breath. Only Patton had objected, but his protests were weak and quickly forgotten. If one thing was clear, it was that his contributions were neither wanted, nor needed anymore.

   They'll finally get what they've wanted all along—

   Logan groaned as the wires pulled on his wrists and his shoulders ached, barely holding place in the sockets against the strain of the heavy cords threatening to pull him to pieces.

   His life was a small price for them to pay for him to finally be silenced.

   Roman wouldn't have to shut him up when he started rambling anymore. Virgil wouldn't have the added stress of convincing him that Thomas' fears were valid. Patton wouldn't have to feign the moral obligation of treating him like an equal, like he actually had a seat at the table. Thomas—Logan choked back a sob—Thomas wouldn't have to feel guilty about pursuing what actually made him happy.

   This is for the best.

   After all, I already see how worthless my life had become—

   Logan’s head jerked up at the sound of a sinister snicker. “Well, well, well—Look who's wandered a little too far from the light. I didn't take you for the bondage type, teach.”

   He watched as Remus stepped out of the shadows, a menacing grin on his face as he approached. Logan scowled as Remus kicked through the piles of dust, scatter the last remnants of the things he once loved. “What are you doing here, Remus?”

   “What am I doing here?” Remus cackled maniacally. “Oh, no, no, no. The better question is what are you doing on the dark side?”

   “The dark—” A cry past Logan’s lips as the wires around his wrist jerked once more, dislocating his right shoulder. He groaned, daggers in his eyes as he glared at Remus. “You know what?”

   Remus tilted his head at Logan, a show of mock concern as he brushed through yet another pile of dust.

   “Fuck your questions.” Logan spat. “Leave me alone. The least the rest of you owe me is to let me fade away in peace.”

   “You ought to watch that mouth of yours or you're going to disappoint the cardigan-clad killjoy. Besides, what are you going to do about it?” Remus giggled as Logan glared, stepping forward and waving his hand through Logan’s phantom limb. “Ghost me?”

   Fire burned in Logan’s eyes as he stared at Remus, knowing he was helpless. Trapped, as Remus walked free to do as he pleased.

   “So, nerdy wolverine,” Logan looked up as Remus leaned close to his face. “What happened to my invite to the pity party?”

   “This isn't my doing,” Logan hissed, losing steam. “Thomas’ subconscious is pulling me back. I—I've outlived my purpose.”

   “Pulling you back seems like an understatement. It looks to me like you’re about to be pulled to shreds—” Remus smirked, leaning against the wall behind him nonchalantly. “—and don’t get me wrong. I’m all about watching Thomas' mind tear you into little pieces, but you’re supposed to be pretty important for the big guy, right? Seems to me like Thomas is supposed to need you more than those other dorks on the light side.”

   Logan gritted his teeth. “Clearly, you’re mistaken. They are managing perfectly well without me.”

   “Oh, now I do sense a little bitterness.” Remus purred. “Maybe he's not so resigned as he looks.”

   “Your point is null, Remus. My existence is of little consequence to anyone and the subconscious has made its decision.” Logan wheezed numbly, tears in his eyes as he tried to move his fingers, desperately hoping they were still there. “This is happening, whether I want it to or not.”

   "Oh, I don't know." Remus mused absently. "I don't think all of that is true."

   “What?” Logan strained painfully against the thick cord around his neck to turn his head to catch a glance at Remus.

   “I wouldn’t say no one wants you around.”

   Logan swallowed painfully, dropping his gaze in shame as tears brimmed in his eyes. “The others—”

   “Screw the others.” Remus smirked as Logan stared a him. “I meant me.”

   Logan froze, temporarily stunned as his limbs went limp in their binds. “You—you want me around?”

   “Now, don't get all sappy on me, teach, but the others aren't as much fun to play with. They roll over to easy.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows at him and giggled as Logan stared blankly at him. “Not you though. You gave me a run for my money last time, and—and we made a good team. Didn't we?”

   “What?” Logan winced as Remus raised a hand to his neck, staring at the wires digging into his skin. His fingertips brushed the edge of the wire's tight grip and the red, raw skin burned painfully at his touch, but the contact—the contact felt nice.Tears streaked down his face as emotions welled in his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been touched so gently.

   “We may have opposed each other, but really that was the only way to get through to Thomas and it worked.” Remus sighed, and Logan could see the sadness in his eyes as he pulled his hand back, looking into Logan's eyes. “I couldn't have done that without you. The rest of them would never have seen past the darkness in me.”

   Logan stared blankly down at Remus for a long moment, before his purpose kicked in. “The others are unnecessary blinded by their narrow view of moral. The  concepts of light and dark are arguably meaningless. Assigning actions as good or evil only serves our biases and our internal need for affirmation of our own moral value—” Logan nearly bit down on his tongue as Remus raised an eyebrow at him. “—I'm sorry. I'm rambling.”

   “I didn’t stop you, teach." Remus smirked. "I would gladly listen to you ramble about light and dark for hours.”

   Logan blinked in surprise. For the first time in a long time, he actually believed someone was genuinely interested in his thoughts. He stared blankly at Remus until another tight squeeze of the wires caused his vision to blur. His head swayed, the lack of oxygen contributing to his fading consciousness.

   “Unfortunately, I don't think we have the time right now.” Remus glanced at him nervously. “The subconscious has nearly claimed you."

   “It's too late.” Logan wheezed, tears streaming down his face as he prepared for the mysterious edge of Thomas' mind to pull him apart.

   “The subconscious could have just taken you.”

   “What?”Logan cracked his eyes open at Remus' solemn whisper, nearly hyper ventilating from the strain to pull in enough oxygen to keep him conscious.

   “You could have disappeared on the light side, but it brought you here.” Remus looked up at the wires trailing infinitely into the  mind palace above them.

   Logan wearily stared up at him, black oblivion tugging at his vision as his head swayed. “So?”

   “So, do you want to live, Logan?” Logan barely felt as Remus grabbed his collar.

   Logan wheezed, exhaustion hanging onto his body as the pain intensified.

   “I need an answer, Logan.”

   Logan closed his eyes, oblivion pulling at him as he whispered breathlessly. “Yes.”

   “Alright,” Logan felt Remus drop his collar as he took a step back. “Forgive me for this.”

   “Wha—” Logan’s statement was cut off as Remus' knuckles connected with his temple. His head was jerked to the side and the welts on his neck burned like fire from the sudden movement.

   "Time to taste what you’re made of, Lo!”

   Logan’s head jerked up as he lurched forward furiously. White hot rage surged through his veins as he bit bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

   What kind of sick bastard punches someone as they're dying.

   His hands hung loosely at his sides as he screamed at Remus. “You piece of—What are you trying to do to—”

   Wait. Loosely?

   The realization lasted only a moment before a second fist connected with his cheekbone. All rational thought left his mind as fury filled his being and he lunged forward at Remus. He cried out as his dislocated shoulder connected with Remus' chest, toppling him over. He gasped as he hit the ground and pain lit up across his body as his bruises and welts all connected with the ground with a loud thud.

   “Shit, Lo. You knocked the breath right out of me.” Logan could hear the sounds of Remus shuffling next to him. “Hold on. I've got you.”

   Logan felt Remus roll him over and he moaned in pain at the forced movement as his back settled on the cold ground.

   “I know, Lo, but I've got to set your arm before you do some permanent damage.” Remus whispered gently. “Are you ready? On 3. 1—2—”

   Logan's vision went white as pain shot through his body and his consciousness faded briefly. No times seemed to pass, but as he opened his eyes a moment, he found himself curled in Remus' arms. A quick glance down revealed that creative side had used his signature green sash to fashion a makeshift sling for his arm. He stared down at the gentle attention Remus had shown him and he couldn’t help but smile.

   Brilliant—

   Logan cut off his thought with a sudden gasp. His uninjured hand shot to his neck, feeling—nothing. Tears streamed down his face as he looked up to Remus. “ The wires. Th-they’re gone.”

   I'm free.

   “Sorry about the black eye I gave you to get you out of there.” Remus smirked as Logan looked up from his shaking hands, running his free hand through his hair as he looked away evasively as Logan stared at him. “I normally try to get permission before I get rough, but—”

   “You did that for me.” Logan's mouth hung open as he traced the deep indents in his arms where the wires had constricted his wrists.

   Remus shrugged. “It wasn't noth—"

   Logan sucked in a breath, going limp with the realization that someone cared enough to intervene. “It most certainly is something, Remus. Those wires—they've bound me for years. I don't think I even remember a time when they weren't—” Logan clenched his teeth, feeling the wet streaks mix with the blood from his lip running down his face. The realization of what just happened hit him all at once and he choked back a sob. “You saved my life.”

   “Nah,” Remus brushed him off. “You did all the real work. Everyone’s got a little light and dark in ‘em, right? I just antagonized that little spark of anger in you until you went full Mr. Hyde to your usual Dr. Jekyll. A little push and the dark side accepted you.”

   Logan blinked in shock as realization struck him. He dropped his gaze to the ground as he considered the days' events. "I'm a dark side now. Aren't I?"

   "What happened to the idea that light and dark are arguably meaningless, nutty professor?" Remus giggled before turning serious. “Don't worry. You're not stuck with me. The subconscious’ grip on you is gone if you want to go back—”

   “Don't make me go back, Re.”

   Remus stared at Logan pleaded up at him. “Lo, you can stay, if you want, but Virgil’s gone. I'm pretty sure Janus checked out after the last vid. It's just me down here and I snore—”

   “Remus, in the last ten minutes, you've shown me more humanity than any of the others have in years,” Anger flashed in Logan's eyes as he slowly straightened to his feet, glancing around the room. The piles of dust were gone, revealing a polished concrete floor, a blank canvas. “It all makes sense now.”

   “What does” Remus paused and watched as Logan stood. With a devilish smirk, he brushed off the the dust of his shirt. The last remnants of the his empathy fading into oblivion.

   Emotions. I always knew they were simply a nuisance.

   “I couldn’t help Thomas from the light side. The rules, the niceties…They were preventing me from fulfilling my purpose. I need to be more forceful. More persistent. More angry” Logan looked up to see the night sky above them, an illusion of the mind palace and the beginning of a new chapter. A bitter smile spread across Logan's face as the dark clouds swirled above them, allowing only a sprinkling of stars to show through. “Don't you see, Remus? I need to make them listen. I need to make Thomas listen.”

   Remus raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously. “You’re actually staying?”

   A mischievous smile spread across Logan’s face as he watched items creep slowly up out of the floor, his room now feeling much like he'd had before. A desk, a globe. The room filled to the brim with bookshelves. Everything returned to his room just like before was except—a little darker, a little colder and about as welcoming as the sinister smile spreading across his face. “Yes, I think I'm going to get comfortable here, Remus.”

   Remus matches his smile, giggling manically. “Ah yes, Lo. Let's burn this place to the ground!”

   Free. He was free at last.

   Logan chuckled, smiling at the wonderful man beside him. “Yes, Re, let's do just that.”

[kotalefanzu]

Pitch Pearl  ATUS AU- Part 3

ahahaha. i finally came back to wite the finale. WOOOO. im still sorry about waiting so long oof.

where we last left off, danny had a dream about phantom, in which he tells him about the creation of the natural portals. he leaves danny, saying that he’ll come running back soon enough. when he wakes up, jazz tells him that sam and tucker have gone missing.

danny takes a second to process that information along with the dream and his brain just shuts down. he goes on autopilot, acting like he didn’t hear a word she just said. jazz tries to snap him out of it to get some sort of reaction but when she actually looks him in the eyes, filled with exhaustion, fear, and helplessness, she realizes that he doesn’t need any more things to worry about and goes to tell their parents not to bother him. 

when she leaves, he blankly goes through the motions as he normally would. just like before this all happened. he checks his phone with slight hope that they may have tried to contact him, but after realizing he spent ten minutes just staring at it, he puts it away and doesn’t check it again. the walk to school is nothing but a stream of consciousness and he doesn’t even really feel awake anymore. everyone is just a blur while his brain refuses to process anything around him. 

he gets to class, looks at his friends’ desks, and notices two cleanly carved DP symbols on them. it makes him start giggling a little, then laughing loudly, before he sinks to the ground crying out of frustration and overload.

a town meeting is called in the middle of school. the missing children line up with the new influx of ghost sightings and they want to check to see if any more kids have gone missing. someone points out the danny got taken last and the two missing children were his friends. others bring up the lunchroom incident and start pestering him with questions, seeking answers. danny waits for his family to quiet everything down before explaining everything from his first day in captivity all the way to last night’s dream. many people want to push the blame onto danny for painting a target on their heads and force him to deal with it on his own while others want to use danny as a bargaining tool to save their lives.

the fentons reject every suggestion and say that the most important thing here to do if to protect the children and find a way to defeat the ghosts now that blocking their way into the human realm is no longer an option. they explain that giving danny up might be a trap if phantom was able to kidnap sam and tucker but didn’t head straight for danny. he is told to safe and not try anything.

the GIW are called in to work on locating one of the portals and storming the ghost zone to rescue the missing children. danny is desperate to help and spends most of his time reliving unwanted memories just to give any form of information that might be helpful. after a while they send him away to try getting back to normal life as he needs a form of distraction. 

at lunch, he is cornered by the other teens who ask if he is really just going to sit there and do nothing. danny is hesitant to lead more children into the ghost zone where they could be hurt, but they are determined and at this point, he is willing to risk it. after stealing a bunch of weapons from his parent's old weaponry vault, he finds a natural portal and opens it. they get sucked into it and arrive in the courtyards of phantom’s keep.

the ectoplasm flooding his system is mildly overwhelming but he pushes through it and begins guiding everyone to the dungeons where they would probably be kept. he notices while navigating that strangely everything is the same as it ws before he left, from to the decor to the guard rotations. when they reach the dungeons, sam and tucker aren’t there. it confuses him. he tries to think about where else phantom could have put them and a small voice whispers, ‘check your old wing’. its actually easier to sneak back to his old wing due to all the times he has snuck in and out of it. while the rest of the group aren’t so used to the routes, following him makes it a lot easier. waiting in the common room of the wing are sam and tucker, posed like lifeless dolls and dressed in clothing uncomfortably similar to what danny once wore, though less extravagant. their skin is pale and lifeless and their eyes are glowing

perched on their heads are silvery circlets. danny motions for the rest of the group to stand behind him. sam and tucker slowly turn to look at them and another battle breaks out.

its obvious from how they are fighting that while they wont strike to kill danny, they dont care about sparing the rest. the group slowly works out a system of one half distracting sam while the other go to hold down tucker and remove the circlet. as soon as it comes off, the glow from his eyes fades and he stills like they pushed his power button. with one less person constantly firing at them, its a lot easier to do the same for sam as she can’t fight them all off. dash and kwan take up carrying the limp, unconscious people and they make off with their battle spoils to the portal. 

danny reopens the portal and makes sure everyone gets through, doing a headcount. when he is sure everyone is accounted for and out of the ghost zone. he thanks them and seals it, locking them in the human realm with him on the other side.  

it takes a while for the group to finally tell someone what happened and they start fearing how to explain to the two dead to the world people who still haven’t woken up yet. they finally fess up when jazz drives by and asks where danny is. they silently just show her sam and tucker and watch the emotions flicker rapidly on he face. in the end she settles on heartache and gives a weak smile, telling them that she’s glad they are back but wishes they could have brought her brother back as well. she is more forgiving when they explain that it was his decision and they didnt have time to stop him before it was too late.

back in the ghost zone, danny stares blankly at the sealed portal, wondering if he should just step through now before its too late. just as he reaches out his hand, he gets pulled in a tight embrace as phantom laughs in his ear. 

“What did I tell you, Starlight. You would come running back into my arms soon enough. Let’s go back home. You’ll find I didn’t change anything when you left. We can go right back to how it used to be before. Like you never ran away from me.”

he stays huddled up in his room for most of the time, only coming out when phantom wants him to accompany him on an errand or when he has to attend meetings with phantom. the faces are familiar. he made a few friends during his captivity and while the circumstances are grim, its pleasant to see them again. 

for starters, clockwork was a common face when danny began getting incredibly homesick. phantom had requested danny be allowed to view the present of his ‘loved ones’ lives and he had spent every moment he could watching them throughout the day and making sure they were fine. clockwork also had hilariously awful puns, though they werent allowed to actually say them anymore after phantom got jealous and forbade them from speaking to danny. danny still carried the one-sided conversations and it seemed to cheer clockwork up from the decree. princess dora, now queen dora, was also a good friend of his, often discussing with him the pain of living with overbearing nobility. she had done a double-take when he approached her and sat him down to calmly ask what happened, though he could see the tension laced through her. after recounting she took a long sip of her tea and looked him in the eyes. she told a seemly random story of her exploring her kingdom and hearing a bard singing about how the mighty dragon princess stole the dragon king’s crown and the mighty dragon queen took her dear brother down. the piercing look in her eyes before she moved to a new topic told him more than enough.

the few moments of reprieve they offered was not enough to outdo the lappet treatment of phantom that allowed for no rejection, but it was something and it was all he could ask for.

sam and tucker wake up finally after being in a coma for two days. after scanning the room filled with their classmates, parents, and the fenton family, they quickly realize the only one not there that should be is danny. sam is the first one to speak, immediately yelling at them for trading them for danny and going off about how they need to go back for him as soon as possible. dash defends them by telling her that its not their fault danny closed the portal before any one of them could drag his skinny self sacrificing ass through it. they cant reopen it without him.

sam quiets down after that and tucker takes out asking all the questions he can think of to find a way to fix this. there has to be a way to reopen the portal.

(a cut back scene to danny interacting with phantom. im not good with writing abuse mixed with love very well so go ahead and use your imaginations okay uwu)

sam and tucker also end up secluding themselves and working nonstop on trying to figure out how to save danny. jazz stops by every day to check on them and pass on homework and anything she hears about the ghosts to them. while they start cleaning up the room to take a break and finish schoolwork, sam trips on a piece of paper and is about to fall. only she is caught in mid-air and surrounded by a neon lime green aura, one similar to danny’s though his is a bluish mint. the aura dissipates and she hits the ground with a soft thud but everything stops as tucker and her look at each other in shock. 

“That was you!”

“That was me!”

homework gets pushed aside again for experimentation and documenting. they might be able to reopen the portal after all.

[too-much-sunshine]

Fangs for the Hospitality

Chapter 3

Summary: After Roman leaves his family reunion mad at Remus, his car breaks down. The huge snow storm forces him into the forest hes always been told to stay away from as a child. Who will he meet? And why are they being so nice? Most importantly, why are his teeth so sharp?

A/N: My self-indulgent magic/vampire fic! Let me know if I need to tag something or you wanna be tagged!

Relationship: Familial DAM, Eventual Roceit, Eventual Intrulogical

Warnings (per chapter): Panic attack, self-deprecation (Roman), and being quite confused (also Roman)

Word Count: 2817

Catch up!: Master list, Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Read on AO3!

The door slowly creaked open to reveal a small face with large peering eyes. The child only opened the door enough to see their face, and small hands wrapped around the edge. They seemed to be only 7 or 8 years old. There was so much curiosity in their wide eyes.

“Hello! I’m Patton. Who are you?” The small child asked, still hidden mostly by the door.

“H-h-e-ell-o m-m-my-y n-n-ame iss R-roman. I n-need sssome h-help.” Roman slurred, swaying back and forth in place.

“Patton! Close that door right now!” An older sounding voice yelled from further in the house. Roman thought he also heard some frantic footsteps as well.

This “Patton” turned around, opening the door more, and yelled back into the house.

“But dad! This guy said he needs help! He can't talk right! I wanna help him!!” As Patton said this they opened the door the rest of the way and wrapped their arms around Romans waist.

Roman could no longer comprehend what was going on really. He was quite sure if he stayed standing any longer, he would finally pass out. He couldn't feel anything anymore, which was probably bad. Everything felt like it was slow motion as another face showed up through the door. It seemed like this new person was trying to talk to him but everything sounded like it was underwater.

His vision was definitely getting worse. He tried to blink away the dark ring around what he was seeing, but everything was getting too heavy. He was feeling very, very light headed. With the last of his consciousness he pulled a few words together.

“I-i-im s-s-sor-ry-y.” and everything went black.

~~~

The world came back to Roman very slowly. He felt warm. So, so warm. He was glad he made it home. He vaguely remembered that his car had broken down at one point. The weird part was that he didn't remember how or when he had gotten home. But he did remember being very cold, and now he's not.

With his eyes still closed Roman shuffled around a bit. He was feeling more relaxed in the warmth around him then he remembers feeling in a long time. He let out a contented sigh, burrowing into the blankets around him further. The bed was so soft.

Wait.

He didn't own a bed. He slept on a couch, with a scratchy wool blanket. And last he checked his heater was broken. What was going on?

There was a small chuckle to the left of him that surely did not help his confusion and trepidation. It did help to raise his heart rate though. Slowly Roman opened his eyes to see a dark bedroom. He could see a flicker of light to the right of the bed he was still lying in. It seemed like a lit fireplace, which was adding heat and light to the room.

After blinking around trying to garner his surroundings, Roman realized all he was really looking at was the dark ceiling. He tried to push to sit up in the bed to see around more. But this proved to be much harder than he was originally anticipating. He still felt very weak. What happened?

“I wouldn't suggest that darling, you are still recovering from being frozen solid.” A voice from his left stated, causing Roman to startle back against the bed. He had completely forgotten there was someone else in the room. His breathing and heart started to speed up significantly more, freezing in place. The voice chuckled again.

To say Roman was scared would be a bit of an understatement. He didn't know where he was, how he got here and who was talking to him. Though at the moment he was sure he couldn't speak back anyway.

Finally the owner of the voice from the left came into view. They walked over to peer over Roman on the bed. Roman heart was beating out of his chest as looked back at the person above him. He stayed frozen. He was pretty sure he didn't know who this person was. Which definitely made this situation worse since he was in a house he didn't know, with a person he didn't know.

In the dark room it was quite hard to make out any definite features of them. They looked to be shorter than Roman, and a little leaner too. Which Roman distantly heard a voice that sounded like his mother say that wasn't hard to pull off with his slightly thicker size. This person also had darker hair and a slim face.

They gazed at Roman and searched his face, which Roman was sure just showed his fear. The stranger seemed to have some pity on him as they backed up and finally spoke.

“Well aren't you a pretty little thing? Showed up right at my doorstep.” They said with a smirk.

Roman felt his face grow a bit warmer. This person was just making Roman more and more confused as time went on. He opened his mouth to respond to find he couldn't speak a word. The words got caught in his throat and he couldn’t make a sound. This wasn't the first time this had happened, nor the most inconvenience. But it was still quite embarrassing. Roman tried to speak again but only ended up looking like a fish out of water.

This happened when Roman was too anxious. So much so to where he just shuts down. It happened quite a bit as a child, especially after getting yelled at for a while. Or after he would freak out too much. Remus and him had even learned a bit of sign language to help him during these times. Sadly this still happens actually quite often to the poor stage hand. He was surprised he lasted as long as he did at the party.

The party! That's right he was at a party! Then he...left? Maybe? Why did he leave? And that still doesn't answer where he is… How did he get here then?

Seeming to realize that Roman was a bit lost in thought, they spoke up again, breaking Roman out of his own dissociation.

“Cat got your tongue? That's alright I can get you something to write with. One moment please.” And with that the stranger walked out of the room.

Roman took this time to try and calm his racing heart.

‘Its okay. It's okay! This is fine Roman...just breathe...They would have hurt you by now if they wanted to…’ Roman thought to himself over and over. ‘Do that thing Remus taught you. Look for five things...was it five things or six? I don't know! I’m fucked! I’m going to die and no one will know where I am and..and...and…’ Romans breathing got worse as he tried and failed to calm himself down.

Tears were starting to gather in his eyes as he started to hyperventilate. He realized that he was having a panic attack but he was too far gone to help himself.

‘You really deserve this dumbass. You're the one who got lost or something!’ Roman kept thinking to himself as he continued to breathe too much. Tears were streaming down his face, and he couldn't even move his arms enough to wipe them away.

Just as his vision was going a bit dark around the edges the door opened back up again. Distantly Roman realized that a person was in the room which really didn't help his panicky state. There were only two people in the world that wouldn't make him worse when he was in this state. He tried to back up in the bed but he was too weak to even move more than an inch.

“Hey hey hey it's alright. I’m not going to hurt you. Calm down.” The stranger said as they slowly walked to the side or Romans bed. “I’m going to help you okay. Listen to my voice. Breathe in for me. Breathe in for four seconds. Come on it's okay try again. There ya go, hold for seven second. Now release for eight. There you go, let's do it again.” They kept speaking in a soft murmur guiding Roman though the exercise.

Once Roman seemed to be breathing a bit better, the stranger spoke up again.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, we are not used to having visitors around here. Here is the pen and paper, let me help you sit up a bit.” They said softly.

Roman was still freaking out a bit, so he was having trouble putting a full sentence together. He nodded his head anyway so he would finally be able to sit up and look around. Once he was finally sat up the stranger placed the pen and notebook in his lap, looking pointedly at Roman.

“I think you are just as confused as I am. So how about we go back and forth asking questions okay?” They asked. Roman nodded, signally for the stranger to start. “Okay, who are you?” They asked.

My name is Roman Prince.

   Where am I?

“Hello Roman. You are currently in the guest room of my house. The house itself is in the... forest. How did you get here Roman?”

As they spoke they seemed a bit reluctant to give out the information. This did not help Romans nerves about the whole situation. He felt this person was being very nice, and for what reason? He wasn't used to free kindness.

I

Roman paused his shaky writing, not knowing how to answer the question he was asked. How did he get here?

I don’t know… I was at a family reunion in the countryside. Then I left because...I don't remember...and then my car broke down and now I’m here. Which i'm sorry about. I didn't mean to interrupt or impose I can go if you want me too.

Roman showed the journal to the stranger, who looked at it confused.

“You do know there is about 3 feet of snow outside right now right? Even if I wanted you out, I couldn't let you in good conscious. You'd freeze to death. Well...again.” They said.

Wait.

I froze to death?

Roman wrote, significantly more pale than before.

“Ah ah that's two questions in a row, but I’ll answer. You did not literally freeze to death sweetie. You are very much alive. During the storm you showed up on my doorstep confusing it for death's door. My...son was a bit too friendly with you and you passed out right as I came to the door. Sorry if he scared you. He's not used to people coming to the door. But after you fainted I took you inside. You were hypothermic and soaked to the bone, so I decided to warm you up. Lucky I did because as soon as I took you in, the snow started back up again. You're lucky I’m nice, not everyone in these woods would have done the same.” They warned. “Now it's my turn. How old are you darling?

Man what was with all these pet names? Roman was starting to breathe funny again and this time he wasn't quite sure why.

I’m 25. Why?

“Really? You don't look a day over 20.” They smirked at Roman as his face started to heat up again. “My my you are quite easy to fluster.”

A bit flustered Roman started to write back quicker than before.

My family would disagree about my looks, but thank you I guess. But you didn't answer my question. Why ask about my age?

“I just wanted to make sure your parents were looking for their lost child.” They smirked.

Roman gave a small smile back at that.

Even if I was that young, I can guarantee she wouldn't come looking for me.

The stranger was giving Roman an odd look while reading what he'd written. It made Roman realize that they were on the topic of himself for too long. He wanted to change the subject to literally anything else. Most people didn't like when he talked about himself and his family. He always over shared and drove everyone off.

Sorry. I think I got off track talking about myself. Sorry, I tend to talk too much. Where is your son?

The stranger gave him a slightly concerned look, clearly noticing the change of subject, but gracefully let it slide as they answered the question.

“It's okay hon, I did ask about you after all. Anyway, which one son do you have in mind? I've got two. But I’ll assume you mean the one you met. Patton should be sleeping right now. It is the middle of the night.”

At that Roman blanched. How long had he been here? Ruining this poor person's night and probably next day. Even their poor kid was involved in his mess.

I’m so sorry. You should be asleep too not worrying about me. I’m so sorry.

Roman fanatically wrote to the kind stranger. They seemed a bit confused by his sudden change in pace.

“No no, it's fine. I don't sleep much anyway... “

Still I’m sorry that I’m here. I was just so lost I didn't have a phone and couldn't stay in my car so I decided to go into the woods after seeing the light of your house.

“It seems you've picked up a bit of your memory. Barring the fact there no way you should have been able to see my house from the road, if I didn't want to help you I wouldn't have. It's okay for you to be here. Okay?”

It's not okay though. I shouldn't be here imposing here taking up your space. I’ll leave as soon as you want me too.

The stranger seemed to be taken a bit back. They paused and looked passed Roman, lost in thought. After Roman started thinking that maybe he should just stop talking forever and leave through the window, they finally spoke up again.

“What if I want you to stay here?” They asked, still not looking completely at Roman.

Roman froze, very confused by the question. Stuntingly he wrote a very elegant response.

I- what?

“Hon, I don't want you to leave yet. You can't even walk yet. It's okay for you to take up space. Besides it might be nice to talk to someone who isn't less than 8 years old. Will you at least stay till morning?”

Roman looked into the strangers face as he finished speaking, his eyes starting to sing a bit. Nobody had ever wanted him around before. This random stranger was getting weirder by the minute. After a moment Roman wrote back.

As long as I’m welcome I’ll stay if you want... Who are you?

“Oh where are my manners! My name is Janus, it's a pleasure to meet you Roman.” Janus smiled at Roman in the dim light, the little light there was reflecting on their sharp canines. Romans eyes widened a bit, then he squinted to try and see better in the dark room. It didn't help.

“Why don't you try and get more sleep Roman. I’ll bring you something to eat in the morning to gain your strength back. If you need me, call me. I’ll hear you.” They started to walk to the door when they paused. “And Roman, I trust that you keep to your room. This house is quite old, don't want you getting hurt anymore then you already are. Goodnight!” Then they finally walked out of the room.

‘What did I just get myself into? I must be tired...I think I’m starting to see things that aren't there...’ Roman thought as he shimmied back into sheets.

Roman closed his eyes, not realizing how tired he was until he was laying down again. He was asleep again within minutes of Janus’ departure, slipping away into pleasant, warm dreams.

~~~

Janus closed the door behind himself as he walked out of the room. He let the friendly smile he was carrying before slip off his face, replacing it with a small scowl. He pressed his back against the door and listened until he was sure Roman had fallen back asleep.

Maybe he got himself into more than he should have. But he couldn't just let this guy walk away after being able to walk into the woods. Plus he looked to be dead on his feet.

Janus let out a sigh and spoke a small incantation under his breath. The guest door glowed a soft yellow around the edges, signifying that the spell had worked. The door was now not locked, but would let Janus know if anyone opened the door.

With that Janus walked down the hall leaving the man to his sleep. He's gonna have a lot of work and paperwork to fill out with this one.

~~~

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@primaveradoodles

[crimeronan]

ik youre not a therapist and i dont want like therapy or anything but im 17 and ive known i was bipolar for 3 years now and i dont know how im supposed to live the rest of my life like this. im so fucking tired. how do you stay alive

you sent this a couple days ago & i’m posting at a weird time so i’m not sure if you’ll see it but.  

i’ve been looking at this message trying to decide how to respond

because i don’t know your situation, your symptoms, how you’re feeling, whether you’ve had positive or negative experiences with medication, psychiatrists, therapists, hospitals, all that related shit

the bipolar life advice i give to people is vastly different depending on the individual. it’s not a one size fits all thing.  and there’s never even a guarantee that my advice will be the right choice

so since i don’t know about your situation or experiences or what you want, i’m not gonna tell you what to do.  i’m gonna focus on the “how do you stay alive” question and try to pen down some personal feelings. and if they help then great, and if they don’t then... this is the most honest i can be

(you can always ask another question to get a better answer. my inbox is a coin slot and i am a vending machine of varied-degrees-of-helpfulness replies offered at varied-inconvenient-too-long-intervals)

-

how do i stay alive

it’s a 2-parter, actually.  i pondered how to condense my thoughts/feelings, and it came down to these two things

1. love 2. spite

-

1. love

the spite is easier to write about than the love.  love is hard to reach when i feel like shit.

spite is where i go when i want to die.  love is where i go when i want to want to live.

maybe i don’t want to be alive.  but maybe i wish i did.  spite doesn’t help me much there.  spite keeps me afloat, but it doesn’t make the floating pleasurable.  there’s more to life than outlasting everything that ever hurt me.  i need a reason to continue when there’s no enemy to fight

so. love

i almost wrote about the spite alone because that’s rawer, realer, more visceral.  that’s the shit that CONNECTS when everything feels hopeless.  but it would be a lie of omission.  spite is only one of the major food groups, you’ll waste away from malnutrition if you eat it for every meal. or at least, i will.

“so you’ve got a bunch of people you love,” you say, “and you stick around for them.  cry on them.  support each other.  like each other.  fine.”  you’ve heard this story before

nah.

i mean - yes.  i have people i love.  i live with two partners, i’ve got a third girlfriend, i’ve got a long-distance platonic life partner.  i have a support net, i have a family i’ve forged, i have confidence that i’m not alone.  i have, in a bare-bones checklist sort of way, fulfilled my physiological human need for connection

but i could live without every single one of them.  i’m not dependent upon any of them for my survival.  i’m not dependent upon them for love, given or received.  (this isn’t a callous cruelty, it won’t hurt them if/when they read this.  i’ve told them all this, they know.  they’re glad of it.)

so.  what the fuck does “love” mean, then?

the short explanation is that it’s my love of life, of things in the world.  it’s all the little connections i’ve made.  every time i love something, a hook tethers to the universe.  hook enough tethers, and i no longer feel the need to float away.  no dissolution of self today, sir

the rest of this section is some of the things i love. partially it’s to show how i connect to little things and ascribe magic to the mundane.  partially it’s because i like thinking about things i love, i like typing them out, and i like that i could keep going for thousands and thousands of words.

i am laying in bed at 7:30 AM with the lights off and the shades drawn.  blue  light comes through the slats because it’s the better time of year, the one where i finally get vitamin D, the one where the birds chirp at 4AM, the one where the sky isn’t impenetrably black til 10PM.

there’s a weighted blanket tucked around my legs.  my partner rafi bought it for us to share because it’s soothing and heavy and comforting and helps with my physical pain.  right now it’s soft on my skin and if i get too emotional as i write, i can pull it over me like a cloak until i’m settled.

the apartment’s walls are blank because we’ve spent eight months intending to put art up and keep forgetting.  but there’s a newly-unearthed dining area in the kitchen because i finally shifted around the unpacked boxes that were dominating the space.  it’s new and it surprises me every time i walk out there.  it’s open and inviting and bright and it’s a sign that we’re making this place home.

we’ll put a cheap IKEA table by the window and we’ll probably never eat family dinners there - why would we sit in hard chairs and make stiff conversation when we could all cuddle on the couch - but my partner dev will create a place to do their art and the surface will be constantly littered with drying watercolor experiments.

we’ll hang our art one of these days, too, when our collective adhd offers a miraculous combo of remembering + having time + having motivation + having inspiration.  rafi has the most art because they’ve been collecting it for years.  i have to start smaller.  i’m not used to keeping physical objects.  dev has a few pieces thrifted or bought at local artist events or painted themselves

so we’ll put art up in the living room, my single “you are magic” flower print alongside a naked monster lady that dev fell in love with when we browsed art at a yuletide event months ago, alongside rafi’s monster girls and comic characters and book characters and literature art and quotes and abstract pieces and whatever else they have hiding in boxes.

my head protests that naked monster ladies do not belong in the living room, although the picture isn’t overtly sexual.  but then i remember that they do, actually, because it’s our space and we can do whatever we want with it as long as the lease isn’t broken.  there isn’t anyone in the local social circles who’d be perturbed by the decor, as far as i know.  i don’t have to hide anything from my parents because i live 3600 miles from them, and even though i miss my mom, the distance is good for me

there are two exquisite chairs on the porch.  they fold and recline from thrones to nearly-horizontal beds.  there are pillows and cupholders and trays and specific spaces for both a book and a phone.  i can sit there while the morning sun rises and read or play word games or browse tumblr, cup of coffee beside me, trees shielding my eyes from stabby sunbeams

there are remnants of the last tenant’s garden in one corner of the yard.  we’ve done fuckall for yardwork but plants struggle through anyway.  some seem to have sprouted by accident.  mushroom clusters populate the edges of the fence.  the apartment squirrel (there are probably several, but i like to think it’s a single energetic creature) runs back and forth along the fence & i always lose my train of thought & then laugh my ASS off at the “SQUIRREL! XD” adhd moment.  birds kick up leaf litter and play on the ground looking for insects to eat, they wiggle their tail feathers and flap their wings and sometimes they disappear and then return with friends

a little more than eleven months ago, i packed all of dev’s and my shit into a uhaul and drove and drove and drove to get to this city i’d never been in before to live with a partner i’d never cohabitated with.  we were homeless for more than a month, we weathered some financial disasters, we met some great people and some shitty ones

on the drive i fell in love with the sky.  i didn’t know how big it can get - actually, that’s a lie.  i’d FORGOTTEN how big it can get.  i’ve loved the sky thirty miles out to sea, no land in sight in any direction, just blue water and blue space above.  i’ve loved the vastness and the yawning beneath me and the knowledge that everything is BIGGER than i can fathom.  the depth of the sea doesn’t frighten me, it’s home. i don’t want to die, but if i had to, the ocean makes a soothing grave

in north dakota i discovered that i’ve been partially blind my whole life, which is a different tale that showed me i’ll never stop learning myself.  in montana we struggled up thousands of feet of mountains with the car huffing and puffing at the trailer’s weight, and when we finally coasted downward, it felt like sudden freefall.  we ended up in the pitch darkness of night on sheer winding interstates with midnight construction projects forcing detours.  the mountains felt hungry, they had teeth.  mountain cliffs are much scarier to me than the ocean depths

i bought a red bull and poured a little out the driver’s side door as an offering to hermes, because i’m not particularly religious but i’ll take help where i can get it.  slammed that back in a few gulps and shook to bright-eyed alertness and ended up behind a slow-driving red pickup truck that guided us over about a hundred miles of mountain terrain

i thought, that’s just some construction worker driving between sites.  the roads are empty at this time of night, but it’s an interstate.  of course we’d end up behind someone.  this isn’t divine intervention.  this isn’t the benevolence of a god

i thought, but it can be a little magic.  if i want it to be.  

and it was.  it stays with me.

god help me but i’ve been writing this stream of consciousness for more than 30 minutes and i’ve said nothing.  i haven’t talked about the city, the parks, the people, the conversations, the books, the tv shows, the movies, the communities, the library, the animals, writing, reading, singing, acting, swimming, analyzing, creating, supporting, building.  and i can keep going.  i can come up with hundreds and hundreds of things i love and i can write paragraphs about all of them

so i’ll stop here.  you get the picture.  love is the life i’ve made for myself, the surroundings i’ve built, the quiet moments i can capture, the inspiration i pin, the magic i commit to memory.

i had to work so damn hard for every single bit of this.

i’ll be fucking damned if i let it go because my brain tried to trick me into thinking death is better.

-

2. spite

there are people who want me to die.

i don’t mean that i have a giant entourage of personalized enemies who curse my name and plan my individual demise.  although there have been plenty of people who have not liked me much.  probably some of them would enjoy my death.  i don’t give a shit about that

there are people who want me dead because i am a dot on a grid they dislike.  a faceless anonymous enemy who meets too many bad criteria with numbers and percentages and shrinking majorities and shifting public opinion

because i’m gay.  because i’m bipolar.  because i’m autistic.  because i’m a dropout.  because i grew up poor.  because my spine curves and my shoulders ache.  because i squandered my potential, because i didn’t have enough potential, because i didn’t love god enough, because i love the wrong gods, because i don’t worship, because i worship wrong, because i didn’t seek a husband, because i never wanted one, because i talk too much, because i can’t be controlled, because i chose to leave the fold when i realized it was suffocating me, because i’m ugly, because i’m gorgeous, because my body belongs to me

pick your poison.

this bothered me growing up, a lot. i knew i did not deserve to die. but if enough people tell you that you should, a little part of you will wonder if they’re right.  that little part might become bigger the closer they get and the louder they shout and the longer they wear you down

we know the rough shape of this story, i don’t need to tell it.  mine was messy and not triumphant and i survived more by chance than premeditation.

i’m older now.  by and large i’m still young as shit - i’m 24 - but GOD i am LEAGUES away from 15, 16, 17. i know who i am. i know what i want. i know how to get it. and when i don’t know that, i find out. i tell the truth.  i ask for what i want.  i use my time how i want.  i do what i want.

there are days that i can’t access the “love” side of the equation.  no finding poetry in birdsong or sugared coffee for me, thank you, i feel like shit and the world is awful and everything is too big and fast and cruel and everything wants me to die and it wants everything i love to die, too.  everyone i love.  it’s all garbage. the good doesn’t touch me

trauma is difficult to describe.  the difficulty is compounded by the fact that my trauma is influenced by my various neurodivergences, bipolar included.  i never know if i’m feeling what other people do.  i don’t know if i’m voicing unpalatable feelings others are afraid to express - or if i’m just othering myself, admitting i’m not as human as everyone else.

there is something malevolent and monstrous inside me.  i don’t touch it all the time.  but i don’t pretend it isn’t there.  it sits in my chest and molders or radiates or oozes.  it presses at my throat.  it curdles in my stomach.  it hurts what it touches, whether that’s me or someone i love or someone i hate.  it sets things aflame with no regard for the precious or the fragile.  it tears down walls and razes shelters and begs for apocalyptic rain.

i can give this thing names, clinical descriptors.  i know what it is on a diagnostic chart, in a ponderous article, in an academic debate, in a fiction novel, in a war movie, in a memoir.  there are a thousand ways to describe this thing.  the descriptors aren’t important.  what is important is this - i have learned that most people do not walk side-by-side with a tornado-hurricane-hellfire-weaponized-open-nuclear-reactor.  this is not a “normal” expression of human emotion, this is not me trying to ascribe power to “bad bipolar feelings.”  this thing lives in me and i know why it’s there and it is not designed to be held/silenced/muzzled/controlled by my body.

it does not help to pretend this thing does not exist.  it does not help to try to reason it away or ignore it or tell it to stop.  it wants what it wants, it does what it does.  possibly if i was better at therapy or stubbornness then i wouldn’t resign myself to that

but it is fucking EXHAUSTING to try to fight something that’s part of me.  to try to reshape it, rename it, pare it down, make it consumable for the masses.  it’s a war i have never won and it’s a war that i will lose if i keep fighting it.  i cannot fight with myself.  i cannot beat my monster into submission.  if we’re gonna battle like that, head to head, me trying to cut it down, me trying to be the hero, it rearing back like a fire-breathing dragon,

then it’s stronger.  it’s always stronger.

so i surrender.

but that’s not where i stop.

can’t fight it.  can’t kill it.  can’t muzzle it.  can’t reshape it, can’t disarm it, can’t contain it.  

alright.  

so what now.

if the surrender was a full giving-up, this is where i’d passively accept that i’m doomed to hurt and destroy everything precious to me.  can’t fix it.  will lose everything, will never experience or deserve happiness, will make the world worse simply by existing.

that sure does sound like impending-doom rhetoric.  hop skip and a jump from some dire-ass conclusions.  

so fuck that, i say. 

here’s a better question.

if it has to get out, then what happens if i control where it goes?

here’s the thing.

the monster doesn’t care what it kills or destroys or hurts.  

“have a conscience, care about things, remember love, stop yourself, don’t do this don’t do this don’t do this.” 

 losing battle.  lost war.

 it’s not the monster’s fault.  the monster doesn’t have complex motivations or hates or fears.  it exists to protect me through scorched earth.  a remnant of a chemical imbalance, maladaptive coping mechanism, bipolar crazy, traumatized injury.  it doesn’t know that its job is obsolete.

i can’t change the monster.

but my mind is a separate thing.  my mind knows what matters, what my priorities are, what i find precious, what i want to protect.  my mind remembers all the things the monster doesn’t.  

my mind has learned things the monster can’t.

when i fight it head-on, the malevolence is stronger than me.  but as i am, walking with it, sitting in my bed writing this while examining the void and the consciousness, describing it, quantifying it,

that’s when i’m stronger.

and with my mind as the stronger force, i can decide where the monster goes.  what it touches.  what it destroys.  what it burns.  where the ashes land.

i do not want to be a destructive person.  i want to be someone who builds, repairs, changes.  i want to make the world better for kids like me.  i want to stop pouring more gasoline onto a fire that’s been burning since long before i was born.  i want to believe - i do believe - that positive change is better than negative.  i do my best to plant good things and enact that positive change instead of becoming a beacon of wrath.

but there are a lot of kids surrounded by people who want them to die, and not all of them have a protective monster.

so it’s good.

when i’m depressed, my mind loses its battles.  my cognizance slips.  i forget why i care.  i forget what i want.  i forget how happiness feels, how to find pleasure in quiet moments.  

i don’t get depressed as often as i used to since my meds are adjusted correctly now.  but it still happens.  it will keep happening for the rest of my life.

my mind weakens and curls up and stops fighting, and the monster is always there.

it’s a very powerful thing when it wants to be.

it wants to survive.

the thing is, it knows there are people that want me/us/whatever dead.  it’s been fighting them forever.  die like they want?  my mind says, sure, what does it matter.

the monster says, nah.  our work isn’t done.  and fuck them, anyway.

so we get up.

-

so that’s how i stay alive.

i typed this for 90 minutes and after editing i’d spent two hours on this post.  i don’t know if anyone will read it all.  i don’t know if it’ll mean anything.  i don’t know if these thoughts even make sense, much less if i’ve conveyed the feelings i have.

i love being alive.  and when i don’t, i love being a monster.  it’s good.  all of it is good.  i’ve reconciled my uglier pieces.  it’s not one or the other, love or spite.  it’s symbiosis.  i need both, i love both.

no guarantees that this is helpful, but based purely on my own life experience, these are my tips for survival:

you’ll have to find your own roots.  i can’t give them to you.  

but it’s possible to dig them in and spread them far enough that one uprooted peg doesn’t shift your whole equilibrium.  

and when you’re tired, rest, and let yourself be tired, and find the reason why you’re staying in the world. 

 i’m positive there’s at least one.

figure out why you’re losing your battles and then change the game.

if you can’t win one setup, don’t try to beat the system.  adjust your strategy.

you’ll be surprised by what you can love when you stop fighting the disparate pieces of you, and instead figure out how to use them.

[tillman]

Can you tell me more about gawain and lancelot in the arthurian myths? I really ship then in FGO and I heard that they are bestfriends

ok this is straight up going to be an essay without the revisions so just a stream of consciousness on my thoughts of how their relationship is handled in both fate and then the legends themselves since fate pulls a lot yet changes some key aspects that really makes their relationship what it is. it kinda goes from a one sided pinning for an idiot who doesnt comprehend love to a more. theyre just bros. which kinda makes me upset anyways. under the cut. im so sorry for hwo long this is gonna be i have a lot to say about gawain and lancelot. 

ok honestly i think fgo handles their relationship pretty well from what ive seen. they genuinely are just bros too stupid to realize the other is flirting with them in their own ways which is fucking hilarious. i think the only thing that bugs me about how fate actually likes. has them interact is they remove like. the greatest bit of their friendship and i think make it just about the war between them at the end. i cant say for certain but from what i can figure out i think they reduce gawain and lancelots conflict at the end of the main story to just completely them fighting and gawain dying via lancelots wound? but i dont know for certain dont quote me on this. this both a) removes all the REAL tragedy of this situation of both of them just being really fucked up over grief and regrets stirred by arthur in the first place and b) completely ignores one of the best bit of gawain characterization in le morte, gawain forgiving his literal best friend on his death bed and pleading for his return, to come back and mourn for him, to try to save whats left of the world they both helped build and protect. in an adaptation of le morte (which fate lore mostly is) i think gawains final letter is NEEDED to complete his arc and his like. entire character since malory (and then thus fate) spends more time focused on lancelot. 

like just pulling from their dialog w each other in the My Room things, gawain talks about his regret and immaturity over... not forgiving lancelot? what . and lancelot just offers to play chess which is extremely funny. (on another note hwy does fate gawain hate bors. i ltierally can not figure this out at all why is he so mean to his best friends cousin theyre bros.... theyre bros!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

anyways now onto the legends because this isnt about fate. fuck fate i hate fate all of my homies hate fate. im gonna focus MOSTLY on le morte since that connects to fates version more and pull some quotes from other legends i have memorized but there is absolutely more, and the vulgate delves into it a bit more but i havent ... gotten that far im so sorry the prose merlin is kicking my ass. 

the thing to note is gawain (excluding guenevere) was kinda the first person to show lancelot respect when he came to court. gawain kinda took him under his wing for a bit, and they end up VERY close. they have a relationship built off of respect and understanding for each other and it ends up being one of lancelots only Real friendships throughout most legends since he has issues w communication and understanding intention that i could (and will) rant about for hours so i wont delve too into it rn. but like. theyre arthurs best knights basically. troyes will say otherwise and say eric and yvaine are better than lancelot but troyes is fucking stupid and a whore, and most sources will tell you its gawain and lancelot (most sources favor lancelot over gawain due to the french influence on some later literature, and le morte is on the lancelot side due to being pulled a lot from the post vulgate, which pulls from the vulgate, aslo called the lancelot-graal cycle. its a whole thing)

but basically for a lot of the main legends you have two Absolute Best Bros who would literally do anything for the other, one being extremely horny and the other being so hopelessly inept when it comes to communication he doesnt understand how love works. theyre a wonderful pair :-) im kidding theyre so fukcing stupid watching them interact is like watching a car crash. its fucking disastrous and you want to yell at them to just beat the shit out of each other homoerotically and understand their feelings (which they do! wow! shout out to le morte!) anyways to keep this from getting too long lets go over some fun gawain quotes about his Best Friend. Who he thinks about a lot. but like... in a no homo way. he swears.

anwyays uhhhhh to keep this short heres a fun compilation of gawain being gawain. and a pretty good overview of how how gawain talks about his Best Friend in a totally not gay way. its straight if he says no homo. 

in gawains death note, which i think is the peak of gawains character in le morte 

“Sir Launcelot; for of a more nobler man might I not be slain. Also Sir Launcelot, for all the love that ever was betwixt us, make no tarrying...”“And I require thee, most famous knight of the world, that thou wilt see my tomb.“

and then. for equality since i skimmed all of knight of the cart for this, have some good lancelot lines. for context some idiot locked him in a tower for a year and lancelot just does this the entire time

anyways: tldr lancelot and gawain are in love even if both of them are too stupid to realize it. thats basically their entire relationship. everything goes to shit after lancelot accidently kills gareth and gaheris because lancelot too thinks of them as his brothers and is so torn up about it he lets everything happen. gawain starts a war with him because he would rather die than face the music. like its insane.... they should kiss. fate kinda gets this ok, but i think they should have had them just more homoerotic at every given moment because they Are. thanks for listening to my ted talk. im sorry im like this. 

find u a bro to have a homoerotic duel with and live your best life babey

[guardiandae]

how about some cablepool headcanons (im wiggling my eyebrows)

I took some time to think about this, because I’m very bad at headcanons in the sense that my headcanons are either actual canon events and therefore don’t count, or I can’t tell the difference anymore. That said, sorry if some of this contradicts any existing canon, suck it Marvel you ain’t my dad.

Nate wears an apron when he cooks, because it's practical and not at all because it drives Wade nuts.

Wade wears socks in bed (and during sex) because his feet get cold.

Nate prefers not to wear clothes at all (except when he's socially obligated to) but Wade also loves to steal Nate's clothes and wear them, so Nate is torn between 'I don't need this many clothes' and 'I need clothes so I can see Wade wear my clothes'

Wade can recite the entire Bee Movie script involuntarily despite the fact that he's never, as far as he knows, ever seen the movie in his goddamn life.

Nate comes off as 'stoic, joyless bastard' to a lot of other people who do not get him because his sense of humor is mostly dry and morbid wit, delivered with a straight face. Wade is often the only one who not only gets Nate's sense of humor but loses his mind over it. Meanwhile, most people get Wade's jokes, but they choose to ignore him or find him annoying, but Nate not only loves Wade's sense of humor, he shows that love by playing off of Wade's jokes, and the two of them can banter back and forth for ages, which drives any unfortunate bystanders up a wall. See also: flirting.

Nate once almost got arrested for attempting to liberate caged dogs from a puppy mill, because it wasn't considered illegal. The second time, he didn't get caught because Wade helped him out.

Nate and Wade are both banned from almost every fast food restaurant within a 50 mile radius from where they live, but for separate and wildly differing reasons that can (most often than not) both somehow be boiled down to 'causing a scene and threatening the establishment.'

Wade is almost always verbally stimming (making weird noises or sound effects ('Snikt!'), singing and humming to himself, talking about whatever stream of consciousness is in his mind, or just repeating the same word over and over again because he thinks it's neat.) He isn't even aware of how often he's doing this, and most anybody who comes in contact with him for more than ten minutes can't understand how Nate puts up with Wade's constant babbling, but Nate is so used to it, the only thing that bothers him is when it stops for too long.

Nate only pretends to be annoyed by Wade's overwhelming desire and persistent requests to rub him from head to toe with WD-40. The truth is, Wade is ridiculously good with his hands and when Nate is having a bad pain day, a massage really hits the spot. The biggest problem he has with the WD-40 is that he hates the metal parts of himself, and the virus eating away at his body, and he can't reconcile with the idea that Wade finds the metal just as attractive as the rest of him anymore than Wade can believe that Nate really doesn't mind his tumors and scars.

Wade is legitimately one of the smartest people Nate has had the pleasure of knowing, although it takes him a while to fully realize that and appreciate it, because Wade's train of thought usually goes too fast for him to communicate it in any effective way, making whatever he does communicate seem like a maddeningly confusing series of leaps in logic, bordering on psychic premonition, but really it's just because Wade is intuitive as shit and often gets the whole picture before Nate can even put it together.

Nate would absolutely help Wade dispose of a dead body, so long as Wade could look him in the eye and tell him it was for a good reason. He's accepted this and even has several extremely detailed plans ready to go, for various unlikely scenarios (such as, disposing of a dead body in outer space, because this is Wade we’re talking about) but thankfully he's never had to utilize any of his plans.

Nate has gotten into a fistfight with Captain America because he found out that Steve hurt Wade's feelings and he wouldn't apologize for it. Consequently, this is the reason they are both banned from Starbucks.

Wade is also semi-banned from the same Starbucks, but because he once ordered a venti consisting of nothing but espresso shots and sweetener and paid in nickels. The staff were all extremely concerned for his well-being and now politely refuse to sell him anything containing caffeine. 

Wade keeps most of his pouches full of snacks At All Times. Nate also keeps extra snacks for Wade in his pouches, because sometimes Wade forgets he still has food in his (and this is how we get ants!) He also keeps random objects to keep Wade entertained in a pinch, like a slinky, duct tape, and a squish ball.

Usually Nate wakes up first, but when he sleeps in, Wade loves to make him breakfast, even tho his idea of breakfast food is questionable at best. (Porkchops made in the toaster and ham and cheese pancakes anyone?)

Nate is a cuddler.

Wade loves the beauty guru side of youtube, and started his own channel where he applies makeup and falsies onto his mask. Logan once lost a bet and had to appear in a video with Wade and let him give his claws a manicure. He only has 8 subscribers but he thanked all of them with a $10,000 dollar giveaway. Nate was very mad about being behind on rent that month, but it was totally worth it.

[rogueshipagogo]

ppl have been asking me my opinions on space channel 5 vr... and i guess since i bought a vr headset off craigslist just so i could play it and speedrun it before work the day it came out... i should talk abt it now... i dont rly think i’ll be able to separate it into ‘good’ and ‘bad’ things i think i’m just going to do a rambly stream of consciousness bc i have a headache... but i DO have good things to say abt this game... so st.... sta stay t tune  d

right off the bat, the thing i appreciate most abt this game- i like that space channel 5 vr doesnt have cash grab vibes. i Do genuinely believe that they Wanted to make this game For the people who are still obsessed with it, and that they ultimately did what they set out to do when they intended to scale certain aspects of the series up conceptually to match the way the fandom perceives it nowadays. but like i’ve said before... i’m not going to Disagree with the very common conclusion that it Needed to be longer, or at Least more intricate plot-wise. one of my fun and fresh excuses for sc5vr being as short as it is is because you arent really supposed to be playing vr games for too long anyways, its really disorienting and kinda painful, but even that doesn’t account for why so much of the game that we got is a rehash of old settings, concepts, songs, and characters. [i dont even have a problem with reusing old songs, i just think the ones they chose ended up being misleading]

for example i think it makes sense that the first report is a remake of the first games first report on the surface, it’s meant to take you back to the way the first game felt and give you an idea of what it means that the games classic scenery can be rendered in actual high quality detail now [same with the recurrence of events like encountering the space pirates in the asteroid belt/the last battle against a villain being singing to it about what it’s done wrong], but i really thought, like, report 1 was going to end up being a simulated scenario for the benefit of lou and kee’s training... which i dont think ended up being the case??? i think they really did write ‘ok here you are in the first game’s setting again, fighting the old enemies again, because... :^) ok have fun playing report 2!’

and then whats report 2... you fight another old boss from the first game... but theres Still no clear villain or motivation for anything thats happening... and there wont be until like... basically the end of the game...

like, glitter is a really cute character, but its kind of underwhelming that shes just a random citizen who was kidnapped by an entity that we NEVER LEARN ANYTHING ABOUT... like part 1 was extremely notable for being about corporate greed and corruption, part 2 honestly wasnt that political in comparison but at least made you do a think wrt purge’s motivation and his methods, and this game just has a plot device that feels like it’ll do smth but then ends up not doing anything beyond what we already learned about it from the information on its character bio before the game was out. if it turns out that cell x is actually relevant again in a future entry in the franchise and they do have a more developed concept for what cell x Is in mind, i’ll do an entire backflip, but for now its just chalked up to being the result of More Space Hijinks that dont need to be explained

ESPECIALLY WITH ALL OF THE ALLUSIONS TO CELL X BEING AN ENTITY THAT FEEDS OFF OF DANCE ENERGY... it had me thinking that there would have to be some New Method of fighting it off that didn’t just lend it more power in the process, but nah apparently just tacking on the disclaimer ‘*this dance energy is not for glitter’ is enough to turn it from smth it can consume for power into big attacks you can use to kill it... like honestly it sounds like im asking for a lot from a game that has Never made too much sense, but considering that in part 2 they could add details like ‘oh didnt you know purge can open pocket dimensions? ulala is capable of manifesting tangible dance energy and the only other person who can do that is purge???’, its not like they havent come up with weird new shit for dance energy to do within the plot before. they just didnt do it in this game fsr

like did anyone else think that cell x/glitter was going to be the result of tossing purge out into deep space and him encountering the sc5 universe’s equivalent of an eldritch alien creature, smth more bestial than morolians?? even if purge wasnt part of it, when you say ‘uh oh, this guy Eats this society’s only source of energy!!!’ i expect the stakes to get HIGH, and i want the ramifications of it to be kinda STARTLING, because blank wanted money and purge wanted to ritualistically end the world but something this near to an ecological disaster that would force an entire paradigm shift hasn’t occurred yet in the series?? its totally new!!! there’s a lot they could do with this but OH DONT WORRY ABOUT IT EVERYONE ulala knows how to make dance energy kill cell x instead of feed it she’s got this we’re good no need to investigate more into all that

i can’t explain why the game is like this. and i dont expect grounding to address it in any meaningful way either. i’m sure they’re Aware of these complaints by now- the game reviewing community has Not been kind to sc5vr specifically due to all of these shortcomings [i didnt even touch on the issues with motion sensing and how many of the games mechanics were removed in favor of smth presumably easier to program yet much less satisfying, like Secret Moves just being mini quicktime events and Turning Your Ratings Into Stars just being replaced with the standard Three Strikes You’re Out method of scoring], but the pr team still seems very enthusiastic abt the game and is still promising dlc and potentially even more games in the series after this one- heres hoping that they’ll at least take these grievances to heart and consider making the experience not only more accessible [aka it will... go back to being a rhythm game with controller input.... and not... an exclusive vr experience...], but also as immersive and detailed as the old games, with less reused plot beats. i can let some of it off the hook in this game simply because i’m aware that it began its life as a tech demo that was only supposed to be that initial first report from the first game But Happening All Around You!, but i Really dont think they could get away with doing this little to expand upon the groundwork set by the first two games again. not with the way people remember part 2 being such a vast upgrade from part 1... the bar had been set so high that this just felt like a huge backslide into something even sillier and harder to take seriously than part 1 before we had any idea what kind of staying power the franchise would have as a hallmark of sega’s quirky antics. like... this game is what i think space channel 5 looks like to people who don’t understand the appeal of the first two games. and that scares me

but i guess for the most part, aside from wishing they had done more to revitalize the setting and the lore of the sc5 universe itself, im kind of glad it didnt do a lot to change the existing storylines the characters have kinda forged for themselves- here i was stressing out that they would pull out some plot development that would utterly and drastically change the way we talked abt the series for the rest of time, but so little happened and so little was added to the bank of sc5 lore that we can kind of all just carry on as usual and keep having the same headcanons we always had.

BUT!!! there ARE a lot of cute little details here and there that make the experience feel wholesome and like i said not an utter cashgrab- like so many of the character profiles referencing previous games [all of the references to npcs in this game being relatives of the npcs of the last games made me lose it] and how often ulala changes her expressions up and looks right at you and talks to you. the new music they wrote for the game also all slaps and everyones redesigns [if they got a redesign... rip pudding] are stunning

one of the most important things they did in this game was give a nice sort of Update to every character.... for example explaining that ulala isn’t a rookie reporter any more like she was in the first 2 games, that she’s moved up to being in charge of training new channel 5 reporters, and that while pudding is still somewhat stuck on her rivalry with ulala her career isn’t stagnant either, she was just cast in a romcom series as the lead... which is really nice considering how in the past she was portrayed as somewhat of a loser with almost no remaining fans left from her idol years

and you knew i was going to bring up jaguar at some point HES ALL OVER THIS GAME AND IT LITERALLY MADE ME FEEL LIKE MY LIFE WAS WORTH POWERING THROUGH THESE LAST FEW YEARS AND ALSO LIKE IM A GENIUS FOR SPENDING SO LONG POSTING EVERY SINGLE DAY ‘NO REALLY, HE’S THE SECONDARY PROTAGONIST OF THE STORY, ITS ABOUT CHANNEL 5 AS A COMPANY AND THEIR IMPACT ON EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER ENCOUNTERED THEM AND THAT INCLUDES JAGUAR AS WELL AS ULALA HES INTEGRAL TO THE PLOT BC SHE WOULDNT BE ALIVE IF IT WEREN’T FOR HIM’ i feel like it’s really incredible how in this game he has genuinely nice energy and doesnt withhold praise from ulala just to be helpful in a mysterious way later and he like HAS FRIENDS now. like consider how he went from disgraced former ch5 employee who got mad every time he saw them, to kidnapped robot henchman kinda humbled by the fact that now the turns tabled and ulala had to rescue Him, and now 3 years later his bio is all about how he has a new tv show thats super popular and he has a new entourage of ladies who he considers his '’’’’’comrades’’’’’’’ within the station he founded??? AND AFTER 20 YEARS THEY WERE FINALLY ABLE TO GIVE HIS MODEL JUICY ASS CHEEKS??????????????? NO MORE PANCAKE BOOTY???? THE BOY HAD A GLOWUP AND NO I WONT STOP TALKING ABOUT IT

WHEN I SAY MEOW MATCH THE POSE MOTHERFUCKERS THIS BLONDE BASTARD GETS TO BE IN CHARGE OF THE HUNDRED STAGE BATTLE NOW TOO THIS IS THE YEAR OF THE SPACE PIRATES BAYBEE