paranoicznie

[ike-mcswains-mortician]

i love that the dndads fandom is so. fucking. hungry. for lesbians that the second we get a HINT of middle aged women yuri in s3 we’re at it like a pack of rabid hounds

[rynli]

me: I should write the one-shot that lives in my head about Harry applying for a job

brain: you will write a whole casefic about Harry realizing being a cop already killed him once, acab applies even to Kim, and he needs to quit if he wants to get better

[diejager]

Okay so this is a character I have in the works but I'd love your interpretation.

What about a BunnyDragon!reader being introduced into the monster!141? Long drooping ears, a friendly temperament, spewing green flames that bring life and heal things rather than destroying them. But their claws and teeth just as sharp and deadly as any other dragon.

Rabid Cw: reader being a menace, fire, pyromaniac, tell me if I missed any.

Laughing, you dashed off, away from the mess you four created out of sheer boredom, green flames sparking and lingering on the corner of your lips were the only proof people had to link you to the few burning heaps around the base. Your ears flopped as you ran and hopped away, a skip in your feet and a bright smile splitting your face, flashing sharper than usual teeth at people who stood in your way. They all parted, little chuckles leaving their lips when they saw you, all used to your little pranks, the sly and mischievous gleam in your eyes when you got bored and the loud steps that followed you closely, either Price, Laswell or another superior chasing after you to scold you.

“Spread out!”

You separated from the others, taking your own path from the fork. Spreading out meant that it’d take more time to catch each and every one of you to bring to Price’s office, wasted time meant that you stalled your punishment and burned through Price’s anger and disappointment. You would rendezvous back on the roof or the airfield once you’d waited out long enough, or Price would hound you back to his office for a verbal lesson on behaving and not giving him and Laswell paperwork.

Which seemed to be your situation after he sent the others to find you, Soap brought back by the scruff by Ghost, Gaz by a stalking Horangi, Rudy by a snickering Alejandro and you by a touchy König. You sat on the armrest of the worn couch, giving space for your wings to breathe and flutter behind you, occasionally moving to soothe the small ache; and your tail to sway, moving back and forth on the floor like a dog wagging it’s tail. There was a slight excitement in your body, to see how Price would react to this stunt you pulled, bigger in scale and more obnoxious with the bright flowers and lively faun that bloomed after your flames died down.

“Want to explain it to me before we start?”

You all shared a look, seconds spent staring to convey a silent message that you all agreed on and that left you to work your magic. You gave him a cheeky grin, watching his eyes narrow and his arms cross before you stared your little explanation, going onto the blandness of the base, the sheer boredom you all felt and having to find something to occupy yourself with. You could feel disappointment ooze off Price in waves, his furrowed brows and shaking head to the small snickers and laughs from the men who caught you.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Price sighed, stepping away from his desk and moving towards you with big and quick strides.

You only smiled up at him, gazing at him through squinted and amused eyes, head perked up to his bowed figure, face nearing yours with a stoic expression.

“But you love me,” you let slip out, feeling especially cheeky and proud of your work, bringing life to a grey area.

“But I love you,” he agreed with a small smile, hitting your horns with his, a display of love and affection for dragons, “Doesn’t mean you’re not getting punished, any of you.”

Taglist : @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts

[honeycrispjamz]

nicole dollanganger mentioned oh my god.... when im good im very good but when im bad im better.,,,,..,,, also i wanna be your dog oh my GOD. dog motif mistynat has a very very special place in my heart rabid is another nicole song i think is so theirs... same with dog days by ethel cain & this is how we lay by dogbite(specifically for adult mistynat)... a lot of mitski songs fit them for me but eric is another one that makes me froth a little when i think about it with them

i think about them so much,,..,,,, tired of seeing healthy mistynat on my feed i need toxic awful messy yuri to get me through the day

“you walk a fine line between god and animal” is INSANE and fits both of them so well,,, I also love a good dog metaphor (pls pls I could go on so long how Hound of Heaven is a MistyNat poem pls) and I Wanna Be Your Dog just has that level of neediness that Misty exudes lol

Also YES Eric is SO them coded,,, yes yes yes

If you like Mitski you might also like Elliot Smith, a lot of his songs fit mistynat to me (I also hc Nat as a fan of his so :333 I also just really enjoy his music)

(The songs are Whatever, Between the Bars, and Everything Reminds Me of Her in that order)

[vomitpukey]

Im here for the um here about the staf? Im interested it sounds interesting

Foaming at the mouth rn prepare thyself for a long post.

Story-Time at Freddy's is a game created by @directdogman. (I'd also highly recommend their newer way more polished game Dialtown! Sorry, Hound, for the ping) It's a purely text-based visual novel that follows newly hired Freddy's nightguard, Jeff.

It's p short, took me about 40-ish minutes to beat, you can play it here (see link below) if you'd like! Spoilers below the cut (warning im prolly mixing up the timing of certain events i need to replay this game lmao).

Jeff goes to this dingy ass old crusty pizza joint to get a job, is immediately told by the local crazy person and former freddys employee Fritz that the place is extra-haunted. Bill Afton, the owner of the place, stops him from talking, so Fritz runs out of the resturant lol. You never see Fritz after this, I assume he died on the trek back to wherever the hell he lives at lmao.

After introducing himself to Bill and getting a job, Jeff walks over to the stage where he meets Scott. Scott tries his hardest to 'subtly' explain that the robots are haunted and there are bodies inside them to Jeff without actually stating it. He is hit with a blow dart for this crime against freddys.

Jeff then conveniently runs back into Bill who pulls dog food out of his pocket (fucking vile) and asks Jeff to please go feed his son Michael. Poor Jeff. Michael is locked behind a fake wall, smells like death, is rotting, and eats the food like a rabid animal. It's actually very well done. My description does not do this disturbing ass part any justice.

Jeff gets the fuck outta there rq, Bill is all like "ok see you tomorrow enjoy the nightshift", and Jeff comes back at the time of his shift. Spooky shit happens bc of fnaf, you can die at this part if you pick the wrong choices lmao.

Jeff starts walking around and stumbles upon the missing children's incident poster, to which he decides this must mean the kids were made into pizza. God, I love Jeff's dumbass.

He comes across Bill later, he's in a golden freddy suit and has a totally not bodybag with him. So normal. Yep. Bill quickly leaves lmao.

Again, I really need to replay this shit bc I know there was a funny reason for the place burning down, but it burns tf down. Jeff and Bill exit the place and Jeff is like "oh shit what do we do now" and Bill is like "Jeff don't you understand this is just the beginning we can rebuild freddys and start everything over and-" and then Michael comes out from the rubble and is like "Father." And Bill gets into his car at lightspeed and zooms away at mache speeds lmao.

The game ends with Michael saying he'll find his father again and Jeff being out of a job. I think. I kinda forgor the exact details of the ending💀💀💀

[mashamorevvna]

💌 for both ask games? 🙏

send me a 💌 and ill tell u something i love about you

heyyyaaaa 💞 i think you have an incredibly sharp and curatorial sense around artworks and fashion and have a very good eye for finding really stunning art pieces or fashion!! fellow understander of the vast sea of possibilities inherent in sexualising religious iconography and religion in general <3<3 and also you've always been very kind to me and im deeply grateful and cherish any nice message you've sent or silly conversation!!

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

i finally, finallyyyyyy have a set outline for the jaheira&durge clytemnestra/agamemnon 'when the blood flows on the altar, where will you be looking?' fic, which is a minor miracle. for something more concrete i have been chipping away at the minthara the winter part. 2 so yayyyy me for that

With her chin held between his thumb and forefinger, he tilts your head back. Barely a push, more an invitation to bare your neck; he is, after all, a man fond of coaxed compliance. And though your jaw clenches, comply you do; a touch from any Chosen is its own kind of anointment.  His gaze sweeps over your exposed throat. With a gold-tipped finger he traces a stray tendon running from collarbone to beneath your jaw; the physical manifestation of just how much it chafes to obey. One day he will find a hound who will not be so meek with his claws scraping at its jugular, and you smiles at the thought.     “What a waste. Not so long ago you would have had a master worthy of you.”  “Blasphemy from one of the Absolute’s Chosen? Lady Orin was right about you. Perhaps it is you who is not worthy of Her grace.” Gortash smiles, and there’s a cruel tilt to his lips. “Fear not, my commitment to the Absolute is unwavering. But I was referring to your dear Lady Orin, as you call her. She will be a poor houndmaster to you, as she’s barely above the common rabid dog most days.”

[exaltedblight]

GUTS' INTRO

pronouns cc profile is here(link)

names ; guts, paranoia, carrion, necro, cassius, hound, maul, sinew, ripper pronouns ; it/its, frea/freaks, null/nulls, grace/graces, cani/canis, muzz/muzzle, rab/rabid, rust/rusts, bite/bites, eye/eyes, hiss/hiss, proph/prophet nonhumanity ; holothere ( body changes as i get closer to front ). canine-like thing? im not from earth, species is hard to define. not really a deity, but something right before being considered one. i could be considered dead in this place ( this doesnt effect our body fortunately! ). 

note 1 ; i may reference the deity i follow/worship here, and thus reblog things that i believe they would like! we were very close emotionally ( i was their only worshipper ) so this may reflect on the things i say about them :) note 2 ; do not refer to me as a human. “[ that ] thing” and “being” are okay to use, “person” is fine too. if you must use a type of gendered term in regular conversation, use neutral ones ( sibling, mx, etc. ). saying gendered things in a joke/slang context is fine. note 3 ; feel free to ask questions about me :) i like explaining things! helps me make sense of everything, thoughts get very jumbled when youre sharing a brain with others!

[markets]

everytime i see art of c!tommy with a red bandanna instead of a green one the spirit of some sort of rabid raccoon or perrhaps a hound possesses me like thats not true he traded with vc!u5bbo he traded with his best friend hiss bandanna is green green fuckign green youre nothing youre nothing yourew wnohting then it leaves and im like cool art ^___^ and i hit rb

[cottoncandyjester]

Okay okay okay imagine,,,,just imagine male simp y/n has a baby faced younger sister who is.,,,,just kenji’s type..and maybe mr. simp tells his younger sister and she’s just absolutely fueled by rage and destruction and it’s a planned attack from all sides ! She toys with him and plays him like a fiddle and then the three gang up on kenji in his sleep — it’s so much easier with three than with one ! Im literally bouncing in anticipation of what could happen

Draft #127! Holy crap that was a lot of scrolling but I found it ✨ had to edit it aesthetics wise but here it is!

Also I missed male simp y/n like gosh where have you been Dude👀

Also woah rosaline I totally forgot about her

Info about rosaline( and Kenji) for those who forgot

Warning this contains: implications of torture, kenji being..kenji, talk about drugging

“So you understand the plan?” You asked your little sister as the three of you sit outside the large house in a car.

“Yup! I’m the new staff that rosaline hired, I just gotta act all naive and innocent and lure him in!” She cheers out and rosaline gave a slightly worried expression. This was very dangerous but she adored that the two of you were doing this for her. You gaze at rosaline before pulling her in for a sweet kiss a wicked smile on your face when you pulled back.

“See you soon be careful though, please” you said worriedly fear brimming in your eyes at the thought of the love of your life or even your sister getting hurt cause of that monster.

The moment the two girls stepped inside they all were face to face with a very annoyed kenji who was leaning against the wall his eyes glaring at rosaline in rage. “You spent over 20,000 on your little boy toy? The absolute nerve you have Rosa-” he paused at the sight of the new person his eyes flickering with lust as he trailed his eyes over them.

“Whose this?”

“Well one of the maids are on leave so I got us a replacement, isn’t she just adorable darling?”

Just like that he was interested and over the next few weeks he was hounding them like a rabid dog, from following them to asking them to do tasks that involve lots of bending over until one day he couldn’t keep his lust down any longer.

“How about you be my personal maid? I’ll pay you double and there are some extra..perks”

Your poor sister had to hold her urge to puke as she gave an innocent gasp glancing away shyly “b-but sir what about your wife?”

“She doesn’t matter, she’s simply around cause divorce is frowned upon in our family..so be a good girl and become mine” kenji’s tone of voice was definitely sickening to hear but all the pieces were set for this plan to work.

“Did you, yknow?” You whispered out to your sister a tone of worry in your voice which only made her scoff as the two of you stood over the sleeping male’s form. “Of course not, we ended up drinking wine which allowed me to slip him a little treat” she cheers out before glancing around.

“Where’s your milf?” She teased out making you wonder the same exact thing, where was rosaline? Did she get scared and back out. You were about to go out and look for her only to hear a soft creaking your eyes sparkling with joy at the sight of rosaline creeping into the room.

“We are we going to kill him..?” Rosaline asked out softly her voice hushed yet nervous, her eyes lingered to kenji his heavy breathing and sleeping form pissed her off for some reason. “Whatever you wanna do, I’ll do anything you wanna do” you said softly with a giddy tone, this was the person who hurt rosaline several times so killing was definitely on your mind.

“I say we torture him til he’s a bloody pulp” your sister chimed out making you and rosaline pause the idea now in the air and it seemed like the best choice.

Kenji stirred awake with a muffled groan his head pounding as pain slowly covered his entire body, the sight of three shadowy figures at the side of his bed making him tense up in fear eyes wide as he tried to scream only for tape to cover his mouth, his hands bound by rope.

“Where should we start?”

“Men like him don’t really deserve keep their reproductive parts, it’s only fair if we start there”

“Couldn’t agree more”

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Hounds of Justice--Ch. 84

Chapter 84

           The dress was a little tighter than I liked, but there wasn’t much to do about it. Hannah had been careful enough when she’d laced it up so that I could breathe. That was a feat in itself—with my big belly and the ever-present fear of my blood pressure going too high. My heart hammered against my ribs, a rabid flush taking over from my collarbones to my hairline.

           “Relax, love,” Becky said as she fanned my face with a magazine. “It’s all good. Everythin’ is gonna be jus’ fine.”

           I smiled at her, feeling a rush of appreciation for her friendship. “I think we’ve done this all out of order, Becks.”

           She laughed. “Doesna matter. You love ‘im an’ he loves you. Tha’s wha’s impor’ant.”

           There was a knock on the door. Hannah was busy ensuring that all the laces were just right. Becky was doing her best trying to keep me calm. A splash of panic hit my blood.

           “Who is it?” I called.

           “Just us, dollface,” Dean’s voice replied.

           “Who’s us?”

           Muffled noise. Something that sounded like a thump. An oof followed by a chuckle.

           “Me and the other two idiots of yours.” A split second of confusion. Recognition like an atom bomb.

           “Come on in!”

           The door swung open, revealing Renee in an adorable grey wrap skirt with a turquoise studded belt and a gauzy white top. Behind her came Dean and Roman, both of them dressed in pressed suits with pocket squares of an opalescent shade of pink. They smiled as they slipped inside, ensuring the door shut behind them.

           “You look beautiful,” Renee said, taking my fingers in hers and giving them a squeeze. She glanced back at her husband with a grin. “Seth is going to cry.”

           “He better, or we’ll slap him until he does.” Dean cracked his knuckles, tried to give me a grimace like the one he usually wore in the ring.

           I laughed, one hand pressed to my stomach. For a heartbeat, I let myself revel in memories of being with him, the ropes against my back, the sound of his voice in my ear, cheering me on as I chased every dream I’d ever had. As much as I loved and adored Seth, I couldn’t imagine my life without Dean Ambrose. He’d saved my life in a thousand different ways.

           “I have a secret,” I said, leaning toward the three of them. “I’m telling Seth today, but I want you to know too.”

           Roman’s dark eyes sparkled as a smile spread over his face. He moved to stand to one side of me, his warm hand settled on my shoulder blade. Renee swept in to the other side, looping her arm through mine. Dean took up a place in front of me, a sense of laughter in his blue eyes. He picked up my free hand and squeezed.

           I swept my gaze between the three of them, feeling an explosion of happiness and peace wrapping around me like a warm blanket. A deep breath. The knowledge that I would never be alone.

           “It’s a girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Carl smiled as he held out his arm for me to take. He dabbed a handkerchief beneath my eyes, careful not to smudge my makeup. “Your mother and I have a surprise for you.”

           “What did you do?”

           He just gave a winking smile and led me toward the doors of the venue. I pinched at his sleeve, trying to get him to tell me what they’d contrived, but he just fussed over my bouquet and looked down to make sure that he wasn’t stepping on my dress.

           Music swelled through the doors. I looked to my foster father, the man who had taken me in and treated me like his flesh and blood. He kissed the side of my head and kept me steady as the doors swept open.

           People stood lined on either side of the aisle. A white silk runner ran up toward the front of the room, every few steps of it dotted with pale pink flower petals. I could see the canopy of gauzy material at the front of the room, knew that was where the officiant and Seth stood waiting for me.

           I gasped when I saw what my foster parents—my only real parents—had done. Tears blurred my vision. “Oh, Daddy…”

           A third of the way up the aisle stood Roman. His arms were crossed, hands clasped together. His wedding band glinted dark on his finger. A smile warmer than any sunny island day beamed on his face. He had his back to the rest of the room, his dark eyes fixed just on me.

           Carl guided me slowly into the room, our measured steps in time to the music. My heart chugged in my chest. It ached in the most wonderful way. When we stood at last in front of Roman, Carl drew me carefully into his arms and hugged me tightly.

           “May I, itiiti?” Roman asked as he held out his hand.

           With a sniffle, I took it. There was nothing in the world but radiant warmth and this man who was my brother and my center.

           Roman stepped into place beside me. “Head up, little sister,” he whispered as he gestured further down the aisle. Instead of seeing Seth at the front of the room, I saw Dean. He was just ahead, stationed halfway between Roman and the altar. Twinkling blue eyes and a trouble-filled grin.

           We moved down the aisle further, Roman smiling down at me as he kept me going forward. I was grateful for his steady strength and friendship. I doubted that Carl could have made a greater sacrifice for me on this day than this—letting two of the most important people in my life walk me toward my husband in his place.

           Dean leaned in and pressed his forehead gently against my own as he took up a place on my other side. I looked down at my bouquet, wishing that I had a free hand to join with Dean’s. A blonde head appeared around Dean’s shoulder, hand held out for the flowers. Renee grinned.

           “I’ll keep them safe for you,” she whispered.

           I smiled gratefully, barely able to see her through the rising tears. Dean slipped his hand into mine, his grip reassuring and firm. The unpredictable buzz that was Dean Ambrose wound in with the sense of ocean breeze and waves. It was only right that he was there, leading me in to my future.

           After all, he was my rock, my haven amid every storm. He was the earth beneath my feet, the surest foundation I’d ever known.

           At last… at long last… I saw him.

           He stood beneath the canopy of material; his hair tied back into a knot low at the back of his neck and wearing a perfectly cut suit. I knew the very instant that he saw me. There was a faint intake of his breath, a widening of his beautiful chocolate eyes, a straightening of his spine. With every step closer, I saw the tears start to slip down his cheeks. He lifted his hand, swiped his thumb beneath his eyes.

           We came to the end of the aisle—Roman on one side of me, Dean on the other. They gave my hands a firm, reassuring squeeze before leaning over and planting a kiss on each of my temples. Roman murmured something softly in Samoan. Dean smiled.

           “You’re one of us, dollface. And that’s never gonna change.”

           The two of them stepped to the side. Seth took a breath and moved toward me. Warmth and buzzing energy settled into my skin, electricity now buzzing along with it. His roughened fingers came up, cupped my face tenderly.

           “There were times I never thought this moment would happen,” he murmured. “Now that it has, I can’t believe my luck.”

           I grinned, my hands settled against his wrists. “Am I going to be Mrs. Lopez? Or will it be Rollins? Black?”

_______________________

Tag List

@xbutterflius-effectusx @lakamaa12 @mox-made-me-do-it @mother-forker @easyobsession @cburdine @0paint-the-stars0 @echrai @themumbler @queenofthearchitect @vebner37 @reigns-rollins-ambrose @gwyneirastorm @sammyfireheartashryver

[artful-mimicry]

Why don't you have a swing at writing Wilson for a drabble?

Tell me what other character you think I could portray well and I’ll give it a shot //featuring a very insane wilson. under the cut bc im on a Roll writing violence today\\

It was a routine. Hear the barking. Try to fight. Die. Revive. Kill. Repeat.

It took a toll on his mind. His body.

By now he heard the hounds, and it just made him cackle to the heavens, grabbing his spear and holding it at the ready. This time, this time of all times he was ready, he was ready to kill. Whether it was from starvation or from madness he wasn't sure, but he felt a newfound vigor in his once pathetic wrists, in his crackled and worn bones.

The snarling and barking. It got louder, until he could hear the beasts running right up behind him. He whipped around with his spear, and immediately jabbed it into the dog's thick hide, laughing like a madman the whole time. He was able to kill the first no problem, but the other two managed to bite at him, making the fight just a bit more difficult.

With a lot more stabbing, and stressed laughter, he managed to kill the hounds without needing to revive again. Thankful for the fight, as he wasn't sure there were any other touch stones in the area. He cut away the fur and bones, left with hunks of purple meat. He had died so many times to these beasts, it actually looked appetizing... Or maybe it was human instinct, to just be hungry around meat of any kind? He recalled a few times in bio classes, dissections were a nightmare to focus for on an empty stomach.

His mind was so shredded, he couldn't care which it was.

Wilson considered for a moment cooking it before chowing down, but he was far too impatient, ripping into the purple meat with reckless abandon, and painting his face with the hound's blood. To a man who barely ate in the wilderness, it tasted like heaven. Like finely prepared steak, in some fancy restaurant. The illusion only broke when it felt like pins and needles in his mouth and throat, making him ill shortly after. His stomach hurt so badly, presumably from his brilliant idea to tear into rancid monster flesh...

But he needed to eat.

It hurt to eat.

But he needed. To eat. To enjoy what he had killed.

He tore off a couple more pieces, but the aching and needles in his mouth forced him to stop, wiping blood off his face. He giggled to himself. Imagine what past him would think now? So desperate for anything tangible that he could eat and kill whatever he needed, even if it was bad for him. Hardly able to feel that he was bleeding from wounds in his torso and arms. That he wouldn't even bother to fix his clothes or hair when he cared so much about it before. A rabid hull compared to what had once lived in the normal world.

Casting a glance at the discarded fur, he came back to himself. The weather would get colder soon. He should prepare before it's too late.

[thereturnofthedirtyblog]

This is insanity at its finest   I  have only stepped away for a few days and all hell and chaos breaks loose…….I have noticed that even though they are on road Zak is barely snapping anything ….. and Why are Billey Dakota and Aaron always together now  have they had enough of Zaks crap?  im so out of the loop here…….. Zaks fans on twitter are nutz like rabid hell hounds protecting their king . any one else get creeped out that they called Zak  Doctor and King?? Skeeves me out….. im trying to keep up with all the imlpoding going on and getting very dizzy.   Damn shame  all of it  beause he could be absolutely desirable if he wasnt behaving like a pedophile. Well lets see how the week goes, i just cant shake the feeling that this could be the last season of GA  and  all hells about to break loose with the boys…  

ive got the popcorn ready…

_________________

OMG you can never step away from here. Yesterday was INSANE. Looks like they are in El Paso, TX AGAIN. ugh. Why they call Zak King I will never fathom. I wish Scott and Zak would call out the fans for using the nickname they have for each other. The fans have NO IDEA why they call each other Doctor. One of “those fans” thinks she knows but reality she doesn’t. I think if the advertisers get wind of what Zak is doing they will pull their money especially with the ME TOO movement.

[ophexis]

Can you talk a little about being aromantic and how you came to realise you are?

Ooo hi anon!! ;w;

I put this under a cut cause it’s ended up accidently being a huge wall of text for something that isn’t super interesting to a lot of people but thanks a lot for the ask anon! ;w;

also this is probably not very coherent sorry about that ;w;

(disclaimer: also this is my own personal experiences and does not represent the experience of every single aromantic person on the spectrum)

aromanticism is simply just not feeling or experiencing romantic love.

For me being aromantic is…well nice, cause I didn’t have a word for it before I got in college. It’s also a bit strange. For one a lot of other aromantic people are very into physical intimacy anyway, and I’m….extremely repulsed by the idea of physical intimacy, so even in the aro communities I felt a bit out of place :’D (I eventually stopped looking at aromantic communities completely…it was….i dont really have a word for it aside than alienating)

But it’s also very freeing. I was never really convinced of romance, I went along with the whole ‘someday you’ll find someone’ thing cause….that’s what everybody does right? But nope. I can just be myself, on my own, and live my life to the fullest. No need to force myself to find a guy to spend all my time with, no need to have children….my life is my own, and it will always be. And it’s a nice way to think with how bad my anxiety, social anxiety, lack of self-worth and what everybody tells me is depression making me feel like honestly, I know be a fuckin awful mom. Kids deserve better, and I deserve to live my whole life how I want to. It’s a bit of a selfish way to see things, but I spent most of my childhood basically being owned by my shitty abusive friend who never let me live my life and do my things, and I intend to live for myself from now on. 

It’s also a bit alienating in fandom settings. Ships are the most important aspect of a fandom in most of them, shipping drives most of fandoms. Most shipping stuff makes me pretty uncomfortable, from the very aggressive way people push their romantic ships and ideas, and how you basically don’t exist when you don’t really ship anything, and how you know that nobody will ever really enjoy your aromantic headcanons, because “b-but muh ship”. You have people saying how obvious a ship is, that you’re stupid if you don’t see it, but hell you watched the same serie, played the same game, and….never saw any of the romantic subtext. You saw friends being good friends, and never really realised it could be romantic until you stumble on the fandom. I am so oblivious to what people see as romantic subtext TwT; I feel bad sometimes with how people scream IT’S SO OBVIOUS!! IT’S CANON!! and I’m like….idk man. I basically need the author to spell it out for me before I see anything romantic. It’s not because ‘oh no you hate that ship you big meanie so you say they’re just friends!!’, I just legit never saw anything in it that I’d interpret as romantic actions. I’d be really okay with ships if shipping didn’t turn a lot of fans into rabid animals tbh >3>;; I can easily warm up to ships when I stay away from the fandom. 

i have a few aro headcanons…Shaundi from Saints Row, Y’sthola in ffxiv, Sailor Mars (her manga personality mostly), Peridot and Lapis (people would hate that one), Rey from Star Wars…and all my ocs, unless specified otherwise, tend to be aromantic by default. Yuri is demiromantic. Towering Hound and Pupuri Puri are aro as fuck.

finding out there was a word for it was very liberating and made me feel like all this discomfort about romance and everything related to it wasn’t me being a lonely weirdo but was just something valid that other people experience as well.

And I still love my friends lots. I love my family. I love all of them very deeply and I care for them and wish them the best. I’ll just never love someone in a romantic way and that’s ok.

——–

and now for boring life story:

I am pretty sure I have always been aromantic (I just never knew that was A Thing before tumblr). It was in a childish way earlier, kinda, but I remember I refused to watch a lot of Disney movies with princesses in them cause I thought they’d just be love stories, and I thought it was boring as heck. I went along with the whole “girls wanna find boyfriends!!” stuff to fit in but I was never really much into the idea?

In high school I never had a crush on anyone, to the exasperation of my friends. My shitty abusive ex friend basically pushed me into the only “romantic” relationship I ever was in, with a guy i met on a Sonic forum (yep). he was a nice dude, but honestly I was never really….like I never felt any different than with a friendship you know? My friends also mocked me endlessly for this relationship so that was eeeeeh…Eventually we fell out of contact and he assumed we weren’t a thing anymore and he went in a relationship with a guy and I kinda found out accidently, it was awkward but then again I was just kinda….”welp i guess that’s that” (also cue my friends mocking me and saying I was such a bad girlfriend I ‘turned him gay’ even tho he was probably bi in the first place anyway ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

I always just thought at that point that I’ll just wait and someday “I’ll find someone” cause that’s what everybody tells you no matter how uninterested you are.

Then in college I joined tumblr at some point. I do not remember who reblogged the picture with various orientations on it, including romantic ones, but thanks so much. I didn’t even know there were romantic orientations!! I saw aromantic, and something clicked. Like “holy shit that exists? That’s a thing??” I felt a bit bad initially to grab the label cause im still just a straight cis girl but I read more into it, and into other aro peep’s experiences, and I realised that yep. That’s me, that’s how I’ve been feeling all my life and it’s totally okay if I wanna remain single all my life, if all this shit makes me uncomfortable its not cause im a weirdo. 

being aro is a bit like standing on the sidelines while a bunch of people are screaming about how great this one thing is but you’re kinda “meh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯“ about it. Or kinda like when you don’t like booze (I don’t like booze) but everytime you’re at a party everybody’s trying to make you try all the booze “It doesn’t even taste like alcohol you’ll like it!” “oh try this one, I’m sure you’ll like this one”. It’s a bit like that. It probably doesn’t sound nice to people who experience lots of romantic love, but its nice and cozy for me if that makes any sense, and I don’t want to try it. I’ve tried it before, I didn’t like it. I’m done. (this statement applies to both romance and booze lmao)

my current life goals is to live in a nice lil cozy appartment with some kitties, on my own.

[twseonghwa-blog]

intro;

ello everyone! this is actually celed ( aka mun of buccoleon!yonghwa and dullahan!rain from pre-revamped tw lol ). i’m happy to be here again and will tyr to be more active this itme, hopefully, maybe. rip i came in late ‘cuz timezones are not nice to me sOBS— 

anyways this is my child lee seonghwa ( aka am-heh ) who’s literally a pyromaniac rabid dog that’s a huge glutton. srsly, he’s just that. but if you want to plot with that then just like this post n i’ll come around or hmu! i have a plots page ( it’s only available through desktop sites tho;; ) if ur interested! also if ur more comfortable with twitter im @blurrycelery with the white doggo icon lol 

under the cut is a tl;dr of seonghwa!

literally he is a hunting dog ( specifically a black pharaoh hound ) headed man for a god that could only be tamed by atum, lived in a lake of fire in the underworld and was known as the devourer of millions.

would eat anything. if there was an ikea he’d be taking those free wooden pencils to eat it.

yeah, he’s not picky at all. even wooden soldiers would be eaten. ( everyone and everything are food in his eyes )

dw atum made sure he didn’t go too crazy.

fire calms him down and he brings a lighter around so he could watch the fire n chill since anyones presence is deemed annoying enough and irritating him would make him want to maul you ( so don’t mess witht he lighter ).

he’s calm but angry— like he doesn’t really shout but he swears. a lot.

doesn’t give a damn about you until you offer him food.

don’t order him around, you just entered the top of his black list.( only atum’s allowed to do that and to an extent bigby cuz atum said so )

actually really focused and make beautiful art with pyrography and welding art, is also a very calming experience for him so don’t bother him when he’s in the zone or he’ll get severely annoyed.

is immune to fire and could not get ill in any way ( why else do you think he could still survive eating everything ).

also has powers over a special life-draining fire with more destructive capabilities than the norm ( also rather sentient and only loyal to him ).

also canine physiology. 

his powers leaned more to destruction and as a human water is a big weakness ( esp since he’s not allowed to use his special fire on land ).

i think thats it??? yeah, that’s basically him.

[meliora-ironheart]

A Parting Gift

From @wolfrattle: The brotherhood without banners requests host on the way to the wall. Sandor is with them. What do you give your brother as he leaves?

"I am unsure that we should proceed, my lady...  Lord Manfred gave strict orders that we were to defend the compound while he is with Lady Stark and the King in the North."  The steward looked wary, his normally mild features arranged in evident displeasure.  "These men are not northerners, to say nothing of being sworn to either Lord Manfred or the King in the North."

The woman standing beside him did not look at him nor change her own expression.  "A man is away, and a woman is left in control of the Iron Keep.  A woman has asked that a small group of men be allowed into the Iron Keep for a night, perhaps two."  A pause, and she turned her hard grey eyes upon him.  "Is a man refusing orders from the mistress of the Iron Keep?"

Dukat frowned, but gestured to the guards nonetheless.  "You heard Lady Mara.  Open the gate.  Let these beggars in."  The reluctance was clear in his voice as he gave the command.  "I will report this to Lord Manfred, my lady."

Mara Ironheart nodded.  "A woman would expect no less.  A man's loyalty to her husband is known and appreciated.  A woman will write to her husband, as well."  She inclined her head.  "A woman must greet her guests.  A man will see to the arrangements for supper."  With that, she swept past Dukat and headed for the entry hall, the heavy fur-trimmed hem of her blue gown sweeping the slate floor.

"Yes, my lady," Dukat muttered to her back.  Whatever it was that held Lord Manfred to this strange woman from across the sea, Dukat did not understand it.  Yes, she was beautiful, in a way.  Not like Cersei Lannister was, or Margaery Tyrell had been, or Daenerys Targaryen was rumoured to be--but attractive enough.  But she was so different from Westerosi women...and yet so certain that her way was best in all things.  Stubborn, she was.  Unreasonable.  Why she, of all women, had thawed Lord Manfred was beyond his understanding.  Unless, of course, Lord Manfred liked her stubbornness because it mirrored his own.  Sighing heavily, Dukat shrugged the matter off and began his trek to the kitchens.  She had a temper, this Lorathi lady his lord had brought home, and she would not be best pleased if supper were not ready when she expected it.

***

"And this is Beric Dondarrion, our leader."  The Red Priest gestured to the one-eyed man near the fire.  

Ser Beric bowed courteously.  "Lady Ironheart, we are grateful for your hospitality.  The North has seen more of the Winter than we had expected so early on.  We will not impose upon you long, you have my word."

Mara smiled graciously.  "A woman extends the welcome of the Iron Keep.  A woman's husband is away, but a man would welcome those fighting against those who would destroy any threat to the North."  

She gestured for the maid standing behind her to pour wine for the rag-tag group of men who now filled the sitting room.  "Please, if men would make themselves comfortable...  Supper will be prepared as soon as possible, and rooms are being made ready."

"You're too kind, Lady Ironheart," the Red Priest said in a too-loud voice.  The heaviness of the alcohol on his breath tempted her to ask him to move away from the fire, for fear he might combust himself.  But soon her attention was drawn away from the Red Priest and his cyclopic leader to the tallest member of their party.  He stood well back from the roaring hearth, leaning his bulk against the granite wall.  He silently took a glass of wine from the maid and drained it in one gulp.

Mara hid a smile.  "Perhaps some mugs of ale, as well, for those with a greater thirst," she told the maid once the wine had been distributed.  With a curtsey, the maid slipped out to fetch the

requested beverage.  "As a woman has said, the Iron Keep offers hospitality to all those who seek to protect the North.  All is available to men, with the exception of the Forge.  A woman's husband

is most protective of his work.  Even a woman is not allowed there without an invitation."

As the Brotherhood settled in to drink and warm themselves, Mara tried to catch the eye of the large man who kept himself apart.  Subtlety was seemingly lost on him, as he stared into the fire from a distance and paid attention to nothing but his drink.  Just as she began to feel she would have to resort to more blatant overtures, Mara heard Beric Dondarrion call out the name she'd had to restrain herself from using.

"Clegane!" the former knight called out.  "You're a rude bastard, but surely you can spare a word of thanks for the hospitality of our gracious hostess?"  Dondarrion's tone was light enough, but his expression indicated that he expected the hint to be taken.

Sandor Clegane grudgingly looked up from his brooding toward Mara.  His eyes widened for the briefest of moments, then narrowed for an instant longer before he grunted out what might have been a"thank you."

Thoros chuckled.  "You'd think his time at court would have given the Hound better manners," he joked, refilling his glass from the jug sitting on the table beside him.

Another member of the Brotherhood laughed.  "Still better manners than our late lamented King Joffrey," he chimed in, drawing a laugh from most of the assembled men.

Just then, the door swung open to reveal Dukat.  He bowed slightly to the group before turning his attention to Mara.  "My lady, the cook is ready to serve supper for you and your...guests."  His tone indicated supreme disdain for the guests and their presence in the Iron Keep.

If Mara heard the tone, she chose not to acknowledge it.  "A man will lead the way to the dining hall.  A woman begs indulgence--she will join you soon, but there are many duties which demand her attention."  She watched the band of "brothers" follow Dukat out of the room and down the corridor.  As Sandor Clegane neared the door, she stepped in front of him, blocking his path.  She did not speak until the others were out of earshot, and her voice stayed low even then.  "What the fuck are you doing with this lot??" she demanded.

Sandor snorted.  "And you belong here, married to some fucking Northern fuck?"  He shoved the heavy wooden door closed with one hand, leaving them alone together in the room.  "Last I saw you, you were planning on heading back across the sea.  This doesn't look like fucking Essos to me."

"Believe me, I'd rather be back in Braavos or Myr than freezing my tits off up here," she replied, moving closer to the fire.  "But Manfred is attached to this gods-forsaken place, for reasons that baffle me."

This drew an eyeroll from Sandor.  "Fuck 'im.  Go on your own.  'S not safe here, especially this far north," he told her.

She sighed.  "I don't know if you'll believe this when I say it, Sandor...but I love him.  I didn't expect it, but I've fallen in love with the big lout.  My place is here, at least for now."

Another snort.  "You're dumber than he is, then, Meliora.  All Northerners are crazy as rabid wolves, anyway--but you have no excuse."

"Yes, well, here we are.  We're both stupid, I suppose...you're off chasing down an army of the dead, and I'm not running away from it."  She placed one hand on his arm.  "We're Cleganes.  We both have more fight in us than sense."

Sandor nodded, picking up the wine jug and draining the last dregs.  "Reckon so."  He looked down at Meliora, into the grey eyes that matched his own.  "If this goatfucker you've married doesn't protect you, I'll throw him into that damned forge of his."

This threat drew a genuine smile from Meliora.  "I love you, too, brother."  She paused, thinking, then nodded to herself as if she'd just come to a decision.  "Find me tomorrow before you all leave.  I want to give you something."

***

Thoros frowned and looked closer at the sword in Sandor Clegane's scabbard as the party tramped northeast toward the Wall and Eastwatch by the Sea.  "That's not the same sword that you had before we came here..." he said, half a question, half an accusation.

"So?"

Beric turned around.  "Let me see it, Clegane."  It was not a request.  Sandor ignored the demand and kept walking.  "Clegane!"  Beric's voice took on a harsher edge.  "Clegane, by the Lord of Light, if you've stolen something from the Iron Keep, I--"

"I didn't steal shit, Dondarrion," Sandor growled.  "It was a gift."  He paused and unsheathed the longsword.  It was nearly six feet in length, the blade gleaming in the dim winter sunlight.  The relatively newly forged nature of the sword was obvious by the sheen of the metal.  A polished opal the size of a hen's egg gleamed in the pommel of the sword.

"A gift?"  The tone of disbelief was nearly palpable.  "And just who gave you such a gift?"

Sandor pointed the sword at Dondarrion's chest.  "Don't you call me a fucking liar.  I'll kill you again, Lord of Light or no."  He looked down at the sword and almost smiled.  When he spoke again, his voice was incrementally lighter.  "Lady Ironheart.  She said it was much too big for her husband and she didn't think he'd need it.  Said it was a sword for a big man."  Sandor took one last look at the sword before sheathing it once more.  "If you're done, we've got a long fucking walk still."

Thoros and Beric stared at each other, then back at Sandor.  "You're saying that Manfred Ironheart's wife just gave you a sword out of his forge because she thought it suited you better??" Beric demanded, incredulous.

"What the fuck did I just say?" Sandor responded, his voice growing rough again.  "If you want to stand there and freeze to death asking stupid fucking questions, suit yourself."  He trudged on through the snow, which had drifted knee-deep in some places.  

Beric shrugged and started after him.  "We'll deal with it later.  I'm not turning back now, and if Ser Manfred takes issue with it when he returns, that's between those two."

Thoros took a swig from his wineskin.  "It’s a fine piece.  What will you name it, then, Clegane?" he asked in a friendly tone.

"Only cunts name their swords."

[lavernecourtney]

napoleon

i noticed you were worried for me when a strange man approached me late at night for you were a man and you know what men are capable of doing to young women late at night. you must have thought that, i was naive or oblivious of the threat to my safety.

you must have forgotten: i grew among women and tv, and ive seen what strange men do, from ted bundy to ken rex mcelroy to politicians and daytime show hosts.

i resent and repel the touch of anyone who is not a woman, which is why They can only touch me with their sticky, slimy gaze.

when i was 7, as a young woman was near her stop, an old man touched her in between her knees with two of his hands asking her not to leave just yet and i saw the terror in her eyes. "...mom?" i looked my mother in her eyes if she saw what just happened.

when i turned 13, a young woman glared at her finacé for the young man enticed himself to a child like me.

i cut my hair before and my body was your average, full-grown asian male, striding along the city streets alone at night, staring at every man on the street intently. i could get from 5 or 10 blocks away to my home in less than 15 minutes.

i talked to the strange man, and looked into his eyes like a lighthouse, who was eager to fetch me a cab, and it scared you: why? i talked to him without giving myself away as i stalled him to get me either a cab or a clock and whatever the clock says, which were hard to find. i was alone for an hour and you just came when youve already known that ive always been alone: why now?

i would say, thank you for 'saving' me- but ive been alive, tracing every pattern of your kind like a hound on a scent. ive saved myself from the eyes you would not gouge and pants you could not zip, ever since i was in the 2nd grade.

if i treated the strange animal last night like a human being and it worried you, i am more scared how you saw that human being as a strange animal for you must know what always happens to the women.

i take it back, i am more scared now that i see strange animals as human beings,

because every time i looked into the bathroom mirror to remind myself im there,

i see a strange, rabid animal, hungry for life and thirsty for blood,

and you see

a young naive kid