#like... fulfilled? it isn't even like a I Am Enjoying It So I Feel Guilty thing so much as like... i write it because i'm avoiding thinking

[a-passing-storm]

I literally cannot find one single platonic Gale & Reader fic!

[lady-raidia]

Hi my dear) if you accept requests for RoP, could you do an Elendil x young!reader where Elendil is in love with reader, but he has two problems: 1) he is terribly insecure due to their age difference 2) he feels guilty before his first wife for allowing himself to love again

And perhaps reader helps him get through these bad thoughts and just romance and love! Thank you for your creativity! 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

I am back from the dead and I feel extremely ashamed. Many things have happened in my life and my mind was so overwhelmed that I neglegted my baby/tumblr blog and your requests. 😞 I apologize from the bottom of my heart that I just vanished, but I hope to make up for it by dropping some requests that are sitting on my laptop for quite some time. Please feel free to share your thoughts with me! Otherwise, I hope that everyone of you is doing well and that you are enjoying the new season of RoP! Also to the person who send me this request: Again, I am so sorry for the delay or for giving you the impression that I have abandoned everything! 😭 I still hope that you like what my brain spilled out because I really loved that idea! In fact I loved it so much that I have to split it into two parts so that it isn't too lengthy. I hope you enjoy! ✨💕

Pairing: Elendil x Reader

Summary: Your heart always belonged to the captain of the Sea Guard, and while you were so sure of your feelings towards him, he tried his best to deny any thoughts and feelings he had towards you. But will he be successful?

Warnings: A little bit angsty but with a turn to something sweet! Otherwise, just some cheesy lines (again) and weirdly written sentences. What is grammar lmao?

HEALING OF A HEART - PART I ✨

Life has always been kind to you as if the Valar themselves had blessed you with pure luck. That’s why you have decided early on in your life what your purpose will be. As a newly trained healer, you have fulfilled your desire to help people and to ease their pain in body and soul. Even though the injuries seem to be the same each day, the people who come for treatment are not. Except for three young men who just love to get in trouble, and end up injured enough that they need to be treated in the Healing Houses. Isildur, Ontamo and Valandil – as soon as you hear their names, you frown, knowing full well that they got into trouble again. Lucky for you, they rarely end up in the Healing Houses together, unlucky for Isildur he is the one who gets injured the most. And if you are not treating him, you are treating sailors from the sea guard who were not quick enough to escape the pirates, that are roaming the seas. Even though your patients tend to be different each day one person visits the Healing Houses regularly, visiting either his son or his comrades. Elendil, captain of the sea guard caught your attention the moment you laid eyes upon him. But he did not pay much attention to you. You were just another healer, who tended to those who needed care.

But the more often he visited, the more he felt intrigued by you. You and your soft voice, the sweet smile and the caring words you speak every time you see him. “Seeing your children getting hurt can tire your soul, captain. Don’t forget to take care of yourself.” The day you said these words to him, something stirred up inside of him. He told himself that you were giving him advice as a healer but his inner self wanted to believe that you actually cared for him. His heart started to beat in a rhythm that was made for you but his mind tortured him with denial. He was too old for you, too scarred from life that just had begun for you. This is what he told himself over and over again, not wanting to believe that the warmth in your eyes was only meant for him and only him.

The next time he was in the Healing Houses was not because of his son or one of his cadets; he was the one who needed caring. His ship and crew got attacked by pirates and even though they managed to escape rather swiftly, the pirates didn’t want to let them go without damage. Two arrows were shot and both of them hit Elendil in the chest while he tried to save his crew from the attack. Luckily, no one else got hurt but his wounds were serious and needed immediate care. When they arrived back in Armenelos, his comrades brought him to the Healing Houses immediately and you were the first and only Healer available. You tended to his wounds very quickly but the worry in your eyes was clear. The arrows hit a nasty spot but the wound itself was not deadly. Yet, it was hard for you to contain your feelings, but you had to stay calm, had to hide the feelings you had for the captain of the sea guard.

Days passed and Elendil slowly regained his strength. With your permission he was allowed to walk around the grounds of the Healing Houses, but only during the day for short periods. He listened to your words, except for this night. He was haunted by nightmares of the past, unable to fall asleep again. Quietly he got up from his bed, a cold chill running over his skin. His chest was exposed only covered in white bandages to make his wounds heal faster. But he didn’t pay much mind to the coldness he felt on his skin since another coldness was creeping up his thoughts.

Slowly he walked towards the window and sat down on the sill, staring out to the sea that is bathed in moonlight. The night was quiet and he couldn’t help but wonder. Wonder why his heart craves to be close to you, wondering why the gods were so cruel to him. He had a wife once but she was taken away from him too quickly and before their life together even started. Yet after all these years his heart still belonged to his perished wife, never did he think or crave other women. But for reasons unknown he can’t help it, his thoughts are always wandering back to you and it drives him insane. You are only a couple years older than his daughter, he shouldn’t want you. It’s not right, his wife would … he shakes his head, trying to get rid of these haunting thoughts and feelings. No, he promised to be loyal to his wife until the day he dies and he will keep this promise.

He let out a heavy sigh, not realizing that he had got company. “Is something the matter, captain? You look rather gloomy today.” He turns around in surprise, but with a soft smile on his lips while you look at him with worry in your eyes. “No, I’m just … reminiscing on the past.”, he replied. “Usually when people tend to think about the past too often they seem to get lost in it. Even stuck.” You said gently, moving to sit beside him on the windowsill. Elendil stays quiet thinking about your words, the smile on his lips slowly vanishing. “I am not the type of person to get stuck.” He tried to sound confident as he always does, but there is a hint of vulnerability hidden behind his words. You look at him unsure if you should speak your mind or just leave it be. There is so much you want to say, so much you want to confess but he is your patient after all. Yet, it is also your duty to heal the mind not only the body.

“With what your son has told me, I would politely disagree with that.” Elendil looks at you, surprise in his eyes and a hint of I-will-kill-my-son-later. “Isildur? What did he say this time?” “He shared his worries with me. He is worried about you because you can’t let go.” Your voice is quiet but your words … there is something eerie inside of them. Slowly and with care you take one of Elendils hands, holding it as a mother would hold her child's hand after it was haunted by nightmares. Elendils body starts to tingle but he pays it no mind, still too focused on your words.

“I am sorry, I did not mean to pry.” You say feeling as if you have crossed a line, taking your hand back and making a move to leave. But Elendil quickly grabs your hand again, wanting you to stay. “No, you did not pry. In fact … I think you might be right.” He holds your hand even tighter now, desperate to have you with him a minute longer. His touch makes your heart skip a beat but this is not the time to admit that. He is your patient and what he needs now is someone to talk to, someone who will calm the storm in his mind.

“Isildur spoke of his mother. I am sorry for the loss you had to bear.” Elendil nods, the memories of his late wife are with him every day. The memories that were once so sweet, became something agonizing. The guilt of not being able to save her is nearly costing him his sanity, only the sea, the sound of the waves crashing against the ship kept his mind at bay. But he did not realize that his own children were worried about him. He thought he was hiding his feelings rather well. “No loss is easy to bear. The feeling of guilt that comes after … it’s driving me insane.” For a moment you are witness to another side of the captain. His bright smile, confidence and authoritative demeanour are gone and all you can see in front of you is a man that suffered a lot and doesn’t know how to help himself. It breaks your heart to see him like this, the man you have longed for so long.

“I don’t know anything about your wife, but do you think she would have wanted you to suffer?” Your voice is barely a whisper but the words are clear as day. Slowly Elendil shakes his head, still holding on to your hand. “No …” “Then it is time that you start to forgive yourself. I know that the loss of someone you love makes you feel as if the world stops spinning. But the world did not stop and I can promise you that there is so much waiting for you.” You for example. You always wanted to be closer to the captain of the sea guard, to hear his low voice speaking to you, his rough hands touching you. But you always held back your thoughts and never acted them out. Even now you are holding back. His peace of mind is now your priority. Your feelings come second. Elendil lifts his head, looking into your eyes as if he is trying to find something. And you look back, getting lost in his eyes that made your heart beat faster since the first time you laid your eyes on him. For a moment you two stayed like this, looking into each other's eyes, devouring each other's souls. You could feel how Elendil was pulling your hand, wanting you to come closer. And you do follow his lead, stepping closer, only inches between the both of you. When Elendil rises from the windowsill his eyes are fixed on you. You could feel the warmth that is beaming from his body, you could smell the saltiness of the sea that is lingering in his hair. Your heart and soul long for him, yearning that this moment will never end. Slowly, you lift your free hand up, wanting to caress his cheek, to finally feel his skin under your fingertips.

“Y/n, we need your help. There is an urgent matter.”

Just before you could taste the sweetness of this moment, you had to let it go. Unwillingly you drop your hand and it is hard for you to hide your disappointment. Just as you are about to turn around, tending to the next emergency, Elendil holds on tight to your hand, not wanting to let you go. For now.

“Meet me, tomorrow night at the beach where the moon shines the brightest.” You nod, whispering I will before you rush to your next patient, leaving Elendil and a sense of newfound hope behind.

To be continued ...

[sophocused]

sat, apr 5, 2025 - 11:53pm

I started seeing a therapist remotely (now that I for once have access to health insurance that isn't impossible to claim) since january. I at first had to see them every 3 weeks as I was having a really hard time raw-dogging my chemical imbalances, so I felt a lot like Icarus but instead of a boulder, it was "pathetic" things like "am i going to stand up and do the thing or will i be stuck guilty and frozen for 6 hours in the same spot?".

It was getting extremely difficult to cope and regulate my strong mood swings as well, my partner was getting the brunt of psychic damage, as my mood was like a coin flip, and one day I could suddenly be convinced he actually secretly hates me and is slowly resenting me or something.

March 3rd, Psych Assessment Day

It was bipolar disorder, AND big obvious signs of ADHD (spent 45 min telling a psychologist my life story lol). I was prescribed meds.

March 4th - First dose - Life changed

Brain. Quiet. Brain quiet?? No 1000 overlapping tabs open? No 1000 flashing lights and distractions? Me do thing i need do the moment me think it? No freeze? No freeze for 6 hours? Me have momentum and stamina to keep doing thing good for me? Me more social more happy? Me no manic insomnia? No bi-weekly crashouts? Less irritable? I feel so normal. I feel so manageable. Me go on walks, me enjoy fresh air, me spend less time ruminating and easier to be carefree about things beyond my control?

Actually called my mom just to chat at some point in March just because I wasn't filled with dread and possibility of hee triggering me. I was able to host a game night and follow through even though I had a habit of cancelling last minute upon running out of social spoons. I was able to sit in an uncomfortable discussion from my invasive MIL and stand my ground in stating my boundaries respectfully, without crumbling in anxiety? It didn't ruin my whole week with hypersensitivity to rejection?

April 2 - 1 month on new meds

Plateau. Okay I still need some alarms and reminders, and live by my calendar else I might forget things. I still do things I need to do though. Less sensitive to noise and bright lights when out.

I painted, sang, danced, exercised, walked, made clay crafts, did everything I had been putting off for more than a year, in just 1 month.

Meds + therapy + the research-based coping and regulating tools and skills, brought me here.

The fulfillment I feel is beyond words. Finally having an answer and support for an invisible crutch is life saving and life changing. I hope to keep working through the new adjustment period and now be able to have the dopamine regulation to form and stick with new habits that will help reverse my recently diagnosed type 2 diabetes and alleviate also the sleep apnea I developed in the recent years as well.

Here's to a full mental and physical recovery!

[frickfatphobes]

Any advice for how to accept your body and it's needs for someone who's gained a significant amount weight over the past decade and a half? I wasn't always as big as I am now, when I was 20 I was around 130-150lbs but around then I started taking a medication which has lead me to steadily gaining weight to the point I am now in my mid 30s at around 410lbs last time I went to the doctor. I've read up on fat liberation and it seems pretty clear to me that losing weight is unrealistic but sometimes it's just hard to accept that this is how big I am now. I look back at pictures from back in the day and remember how easy it was getting around, how I could spend all night out and never get tired. These days I can barely go grocery shopping without becoming exhausted. I've debated getting a mobility scooter but it just sounds so defeating but deep down I have a feeling it's what my body needs. I've tried light exercise and though it's improved my mobility some I still have some trouble getting around and still need to take breaks to sit down when walking longer distances.

Sorry if this is a lot I've just been thinking about this lately my bodies just gone through much change compared to when I was younger that I'm looking for some outside input.

No need to apologize. I love receiving asks like this and I'm happy to share my thoughts! Of course I'm no expert, but I'll do my best to provide good advice based on the information you provided here.

There are many challenges that come with accepting one's body, especially when it's more than just aesthetics that are affected by a person's size or weight. Fat liberation, as fantastic as it can be at healing someone emotionally or mentally, cannot change physical or mobility-related difficulties.

I've had an experience lately that reminded me that there are many fun things I used to love doing that I can't anymore, because the world refuses to become more inclusive to accommodate people like me. And you may think that your case isn't about inclusivity, but it might be somewhat related. Maybe you could still be able to spend a whole night out if you didn't have to waste your energy looking through a million places to find one that will accommodate you, or have large or comfortable enough seats, or don't force you to park super far away from the bar or club you want to visit.

And more importantly, you never should have been taught by media or parental figures or friends that using a mobility device means you're giving in to defeat. That is internalized ableism. Regardless of a person's weight, they should never feel weak or guilty for being accommodated for, even if they "don't really need it." (If it's preventing pain or exhaustion, it actually IS a necessity.)

Now, all that being said, I'm going to do my best to give you some advice based on what I've read here. Please remember that in the end, you know yourself and your body better than anyone else does, and if any of the advice feels wrong to you, then please take it with a grain of salt.

First, I think you should absolutely consider getting a mobility aid. You don't have to use it all the time, but if it will help prevent pain or exhaustion, it's worth looking into. You don't deserve to be tired or hurting all the time.

Second, if exercise helps you, keep finding ways to move that you enjoy and that feel good to you. The benefits of exercise cap out at around twenty minutes a day, and it doesn't even have to be consecutive. Don't ever push yourself past your limits or continue if you're in pain. Despite popular belief, exercise shouldn't hurt.

Third, keep looking into fat liberation. It has helped my mental health a ton. The best way to be happy with your body is realizing that there's nothing wrong with it as it is now, even if it often feels that way because of the constant bigotry around you. It sucks to get tired more quickly than you used to, but you can absolutely still live an amazingly fulfilling life without your body being the way it was.

Whatever you do, don't let anyone tell you that you aren't allowed to use a mobility aid or live happily in your body as it is. You deserve to feel joy without having to lose weight first.

I hope this helped at least a little bit, and I hope things get better for you.

[jinxyjinxer]

Dear @sodandoumaolhadasla, since you don't have the balls to tag me nor have your inbox open, here's my response to the not so nice rant you left. I will reply in this seperate post as your original one is already very long in itself.

Before I get into it, I want to make clear that my post "SLUT" was a request from an anon I fulfilled. Following request was this:

"jayce and his wife at a darling meeting but he has to drag her away for being a needy brat and fucking her." - link

As you can see, this lovely anon asked me to write Jayce with a "needy brat" reader.

This now clarified, I will dive into the points you made during your rant.

"this man [note: ie Jayce Talis] never showed a single trace of being dominant, his whole point is that he is pathetic, every romantic scene he has been in he was extremely passive"

I agree with you. Jayce is a very soft and loving man, the kind who couldn't even smash a bug with his shoe because he'd feel guilty and cry. But this does not in any way mean that he wouldn't be capable of putting his "patheticness" and "passiveness", as you phrased it, away when having the right buttons pushed. Which I explained as I answered the request linked and mentioned above.

"Sub women already have everything, the movies, the books, 90% of fanfics, the prn, everything, just this month another f!sub and m!dom movie came out..."

This is a very bold statement, I fear. I can speak from experience that sub and dom women are very evenly distributed in the "porn" you mentioned.

It also heavily implies that you believe that me, the author of "SLUT", is a sub woman. Which is disrespectful if you ask me. While I admit to being sub-leaning, I am still a switch. But you couldn't of course know that, since we're just two strangers on the internet.

"but when one man, just one man is obviously sub/sub leaning and is agreed by most people, hundreds of contents of him being a dom are made, I've seen this happen with steven grant, sanji, brett hand etc every time thise contents are ooc with things and lines and actions the character would never do canonically (like sanji degrading a woman)...It just feels like the characters personality and manners doesn't matter and the only thing seen is his looks"

While I do not know who Grant and Brett are, I can agree with you that Sanji degrading a female is very much out of character for him. But in the same breath we could claim that writing Sanji, someone who obviously is only attracted to female and heavily implied to be straight, with a man is out of character as well.

This isn't about Sanji of course, but I hope you understand what point I'm trying to make. Sexual activity preference isn't something you can read off of a person's personality. Someone who acts all dominant in their day to day life can easily turn out to be someone who enjoys to be the sub in a sexual context. Of course, their day to day life personality could correspond with their sexual preferences, but unless canonically confirmed by the authors, producers,... it is up to interpretation. Same goes with sexualities and romantic orientations.

"And that doesn't only happens with sub/sub leaning male characters but with obviously vanilla men as well, not everyone is kinky, not everyone is into harder stuff and there are characters who are obviously not, it just feels weird that it seems like male characters, especially manly ones(will talk abou that more), are not allowed to be anything besides doms/hard doms."

Another very bold statement you have made there, I very much fear.

From how I understand this, you accuse writers that write for sub leaning female readers with male characters of "objectifying" men in a sense. Which obviously isn't the case.

From what I understand you are not only upset that your sexual preferences has little to no representation within the fanfiction community, but also that your personal headcanon for a character doesn't get enough representation within the community. Which is why you made this rant. And if you'd ask me, it heavily seems like you're on a sort of "kinkshaming" train right now. I'm not accusing you of it, this is just how your arguments have come across so far which is very harmful if that should be the case.

Yet again I have to say that just because someone doesn't come across as someone with kinks, doesn't mean we cannot imagine him with such. There is still something called creative freedom. Unless it is clearly stated the character is into certain things by official media or people who worked on their media, it is up to a writer how they will portray their sexual preferences.

"Manly, older, rugged, big and/or strong men seem to always forced to be doms everytime, just like women are always forced to be subs no matter how obvious of a dom she is, there are many obviously dom feminine men as well, but people threat like feminine = sub masculine = dom, do people belive that when a sub man hits 40 a switch turn on and he becomes a "daddy dom"? Do people belive that men with muscles and chest hair or beards cannot be a sub?"

I very much agree with you on this point. But I have to say that you're very much contradicting yourself. You claim that appearance doesn't define sexual preferences but yet try to bring the point across that behaviour outside of the bedroom DOES define their sexual preferences once in bed.

Neither appearance nor behaviour defines which kinks, preferences, fetishes a living person nor a fictional character might have.

"Once again I want to apologise and make sure I say to the people in this prints that I have nothing against you and I respect your free will, I just feel like it fitted in what I wanted to say, but I understand you completely and I'm not trying to attack you, I understand that you're just writing what you like and living your life and I'm not here to stop you."

Your intentions might not have been bad but your words very much came across as such, as I explained in the paragraphs above.

And I must say that I very much felt targeted. Without the screenshot of my post I wouldn't have even noticed that your rant was due to one of the works I have written myself nor would I have at all known about the post you made.

If you say you do not want to target anyone, do not bring things into it that people have said/done/written/..., I fear this might be common sense.

"and it's a subject that has always destroyed me since I found out about my interest back when I was 13, this messed a lot with my head and the concept of if there was something wrong with me for not "being like everyone else", I know it's kinda silly lol"

I myself know how bad it can be to feel ashamed of your kinks, preferences and fetishes due to mainstream media but instead of ranting about people who write in their free time for no profit, solely because it is fun for them and because they want to share their works of fiction solely because they enjoy interacting with people. If you want to rant about someone or get upset at them, then do so at the people who earn money with their works and set the course for modern media. A bunch of independent writers do not have an impact on society like a multi million company or person.

[multi-lefaiye]

ok setting to do not rb because i do not want this post to blow up

but in recent months i've taken a bit of a step back from writeblr. i still write and i still love to read and share others' writing, but the community as a whole has felt a bit off to me for a bit now.

and i don't say this to be all AUGH WRITEBLR BAD AND TOXIC!! bc no, i don't think it is. nor am i calling out specific people here or saying that anyone who enjoys writeblr, even the aspects i'm not as into, is bad. none of that is true. HOWEVER-

i guess i'm just a bit put off by the general push for Constant Productivity that i see. people beating themselves up and almost like... self-flagellating because they didn't meet a word count, or because they're burnt out or having a creative block. and that sort of thing happens in any creative community in my experience and most all creatives do that at some point.

but the amount i see that normalized bothers me! idk! like for me it feels like so much of writeblr as i've seen it is centered around beating yourself up for having creative blocks (which are a normal part of the process) or otherwise not writing at breakneck speed constantly. or just jokes about Not Writing and Feeling Guilty About It.

which. on an individual level, there's nothing wrong with feeling bad about that. i'd say it's not good to beat yourself up about it, but it's still understandable to be bummed and even a bit upset. hell, i used to make a lot of jokes about that! and i get very bummed and upset about creative blocks!! but i feel like as a whole in my experience, much of writeblr feels like it's dedicated more to beating yourself up for not writing than actually building a community around writing.

and certainly not every corner of writeblr is like that, i'm very aware, but this is a (to me) pretty major attitude that's bothered me for a while tbh. and it's not the only reason i've taken a bit of a step back, truthfully i've more stepped back because of mental health and life stress. but since stepping back i've noticed this more and more and... yeah idk fjdjfjej i am still writing and i still enjoy working on my wips, i guess this part of the community just rubs me the wrong way.

this isn't a callout post or a grand call fpr Change in the community, more just an observation and me thinking out loud. if you like the community as is and this fulfills you, that's great!! more power to you!! this aspect just isn't for me, i suppose.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #67

A dear friend of mine stayed the night last night, partially in an effort to find reprieve from the stressors in their life. They came and existed in our space in the way that felt most natural to them, without feeling pressured to be a particular way or do any particular thing, and it was beautiful.

The next morning, which was today, we played a little DDR (I didn't think to take a video for you; I'm sorry) and generally just… existed in a very chill sort of way. It's as though they are less a "guest" and more as though my house is also their house. I couldn't be more grateful for the fact that this is the dynamic that we have with this friend.

Later in the day, another friend and her son came over to visit. This is the same friend to whom I gave the bowl I repaired. She brought lots of tasty snacks for us to enjoy, and we had a lot of very lively conversation.

You know, admittedly, it's hard for me when people bring food to my space to share; I'm used to being the one who provides, not being the one that others provide for, haha. But that's all right; it is good to sit with this kind of discomfort until I become accustomed to the notion that I'm allowed to receive the same kind of care that I try to give to others. This time, I tried not to apologize and I tried to accept the gesture without trying to "make it even" somehow. And this time, I was successful. Though I must admit, I did have to stifle a small, guilt-induced panic when she began doing the dishes in my sink!!! Hahahaha!

But you know? I sat with it and I dealt with it. Because all of the old conditioning that tells me that "I am a bad person for accepting this kind of care and help" is false. I am not supposed to give and give and give until I am empty. I am supposed to receive, too. I think on all of the people who taught me that receiving love and kindness from others without feeling guilty is selfish of me.

When I think about it, I'm vaguely aware that they resented their responsibility to give to me (in the case of parents, things like time, attention, and basic needs) not because there was anything inherently wrong or bad about me or my wishes and needs, but because they themselves were running on empty all the time, thanks to their life circumstances, the choices that led them to those circumstances, all the generational trauma that they were carrying around and all the unreasonable expectations of themselves that they were trying to fulfill from the conditioning that was ground into them as children, which is the cause of it all.

…I wish I knew then all the things that I know now. So many things were put on my shoulders that weren't mine to carry, and I simply bore it without a second thought, because I had no other basis of comparison to tell me that none of it was normal. And so when they told me that I am bad and that carrying it all is my responsibility (presumably in order to make up for the notion that I am bad), I believed them. I know now that this sort of thing isn't true, but even still, it's sometimes hard for me to disbelieve it.

…But that's what practice is for, right? We can challenge the beliefs that tell us we're no good, and we can put better ones in their place! Here's how I've been taught to do it:

First, you have to identify the emotion that is troubling you. You can use an emotion wheel if you struggle with alexithymia; they're super duper handy like that.

Next, you have to examine the beliefs you carry that are driving the emotions. That's because our emotions don't come from nowhere; often, they show up as a result of our beliefs backing us up into a scary corner. So stop, take a moment, and try to figure out what they are. Often, such beliefs are unreasonable. Things that begin with "something must", "something should", "something never", or "something always" is a good place to look for unreasonable beliefs. In my case today, the guilt I felt was driven by a belief that goes, "I shouldn't be accepting all this effort from my friend; I don't deserve it."

Next, you have to stop and ask yourself how the unreasonable belief kept you safe in the past. And this can be anything. In my case, often in the past, if I accepted effort or kindness from my caregivers, often enough they'd lord it over me later, using it as a tool to guilt me into doing something I don't wanna do, or use the fact that I accepted their favor as proof that I'm selfish if they get angry at me about something later. Otherwise, they'd give something to me only begrudgingly, only to resent me for it later, and resentment led to a lot of verbal punishments in those days. So the best way to keep myself safe at the time was to refuse most anything that was done on my behalf on the basis that "I didn't deserve it." Agreeing with my caregivers that I did not deserve their time or care was important in those days, because to disagree with them about anything was to invite verbal, relational, or physical violence upon myself. As you can see, this part that examines how the belief used to serve you can get complicated and messy pretty quickly, so it might be a good idea to do it with a friend in order to keep yourself stable.

The next thing to do is to examine whether or not the belief is still keeping you safe. If it is, then by all means do continue to run with it, but try to see if you can modify it just a little in order to make it a bit more merciful towards yourself. But if not, you can then decide to change the belief to something that is better reflective of your current circumstances. I am no longer around people who are going to weaponize the kindness that they give to me at a later point (and even if I was around such people, I have boundary skills now, so their efforts would be moot in any case), and so all this belief does is stand between me and allowing myself to receive care from others. It also, very inconveniently, denies the people who care about me an opportunity to feel good about doing something kind for a person who is good to them. And that's no good.

The final step is to change the belief. But you can't go crazy with this; a brain won't be able to accept something that is wildly different from what it's used to. So I can't shift the new belief to something crazy and extravagant like, "I deserve all the kindness all the time from all the people." Instead, you have to try something more moderate, like, "I am just as deserving of kindness as any other human being, and I can accept the effort made by others if it's made in good intentions." And sometimes it can take a long time to fully shift to the new belief; that's okay. It just takes practice, and it just takes choosing it even when it feels scary to do. So, from shifting to the new belief, instead of feeling guilt, instead I felt a little nervousness. But a little nervousness is manageable! Easy peasy! Barely even an inconvenience! 😜

This process is called REBT, and it has helped me to break down a lot of my conditioning so that I can choose better patterns of beliefs and behavior. It's amazing stuff.

So, having done this, I was able to make myself a plate or two out of all the wholesome foods my friend brought. And it looked like this:

I also made us some tea. I loved the way the cream looked in the mason jar this time as I poured it into the tea! Check it out:

You know what, Sephiroth? You can do any of this, too. You can accept kindness from others. You can work on changing your beliefs, even if you were violently conditioned into believing some really awful stuff. You can have good tea and good snacks and lively conversation with other people. Because you can believe that you're good enough as you are. You can believe that you belong. And given that you're way smarter and way more mentally flexible than I could ever hope to be (unless, of course, the developers are lying about you being the strongest ever?), you have the capacity to do this even better than I can.

If a silly derpasaurus like me can recover, then anyone can. And that includes you. So please try. Please. You'd have so many people willing to hold your hand and walk you through the process, no matter how difficult it gets. I'm one of them.

You are loved because I love you in the same way that anyone loves their friends. Please be aware that lots of other people love you, too. So make good choices. Don't disappear. Don't put yourself in a position where there's no choice but to stop you from hurting others. Because make no mistake, if you continue to make bad choices that hurt others, you WILL be stopped. So please… choose healing and recovery instead. Because otherwise…

This is who they are. This is who they'll be. And if you think you can stop them, then you need to think again. Because they are amazing. If they fall, they'll get back up again. And they won't let you hurt your planet, and they won't let you hurt your friends.

…And, as much as I love you, if I was capable of standing at their side to stop you from doing stupid things just because you'd rather break everything than be brave enough sit down with your pain, I would. I'd do everything in my power to find some way to restrain you instead of destroy you, but still, I would be trying to stop you. Because breaking everything isn't going to give you the peace and safety you think it will. Believe me, I've tried, albeit in much smaller ways; it only makes things worse.

Nothing is ever broken beyond repair, and that includes you. There are people in this world who love you enough to call you out on your nonsense, come what may. I'm one of them. You're not alone. So come on; it's time for you to do something else, because this destructive path ain't gonna do it for ya.

I'll write again soon. Please stay safe.

Your friend, Lumine

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

morris street

I always knew to keep my love for myself

a secret because someone would come around

to tell me why even that was misguided

I never listen and I couldn't listen

and now I can't even listen

when someone tells me what I want to hear

because the moment I let my guard down

the same old story repeats itself

and me my self-fulfilling prophesies

I learned how to understand them for my own safety

but I always enjoy it while it lasts

while it's good and feels good

and I promise I never stop hoping

that one day I'll be wrong

that one day the bloom won't rot

that one day I won't watch as everything decays

but everything here is supposed to die

it's as part of this earth cycle as birth and life

so I learned how to grieve so long ago

and honestly the rage and anger are so much easier

to feel than this sadness that never goes away

I inherited it from my father

this sad soul that you can sit next to

and feel at peace because it just flows

like the endless river of time that watches

everything around it change and sink into void

but it's beautiful while it's here, isn't it?

we were something beautiful for a second, weren't we?

when people talk about salvation

they don't mention how it's just another way

to feel guilty about a situation you should have avoided

or maybe I'm just feeling sorry for myself

but today I'm letting myself feel sorry for myself

I'll get bored with it soon enough and change

see my life has this planned out perfectly

I lose something and gain everything

I thought I wanted and surely needed

but I have to feel the emptiness

where the illusion used to make me feel warm

they say it always means something better is coming

but that just means I'll lose that too

which is the whole purpose of the game

and I don't cling to things very well

I don't trust anything but myself

but I want to I want to I want to so desperately

but even feeling desperate makes me feel guilty

I've been internalizing shame since I was born

every good thing that happens is just something else

I feel I only have the potential to fuck up

or love it so well it's better without me

I don't feel very well today

I probably haven't for awhile

but I really try to make everything look okay

you can't say I didn't spend a year warning you

just what kind of a mess you're getting into

and I promise I'll never blame you

if it's too much and you need to wash your hands of it

I washed my feet in the river just as long

and my footsteps are still bloody

I don't think any of this ever comes out

but I'm going to keep walking anyways

I've been here this long so I'll keep going

I never know where I'm going

I used to think I did but the lights still

haven't turned back on and I'm not

looking for a switch anymore

I got the stars and sometimes I have the moon

and everything they taught me about myself

I guess wasn't real but it doesn't feel better

to know any of that because I'm still lost

I know it's going to be alright

just kind of would like a timeline

I hope that exhausted sentiment

has all my angels and ancestors laughing

I'll make it work and I'll figure it out

I always seem to and I know I'm better now

not good or great or even awesome today

but I am better and I practiced all those things

I learned at this computer screen

and in my journals and at whatever rainbow

was at the end of all these tears

everything will make sense just to fall back

into a chaos I need to fix again

and I'll fix it with duct tape until I can buy glue

thank you for being here

you ended up being the only thing that's true

[vampireslikesunshine]

I can't be the only one who feels like this, like i dont think that's physically possible.

"im terrified(anxious) that im gonna lose all my inhibitions and just randomly decide to cheat on my boyfriend for some reason."

I wanna preface this by saying that I love my Boyfriend very much and im certainly not going to leave him over this.

I'm a flighty person. Ive got a short attention span and really poor impulse control. I dropped out college a couple weeks into my fourth term(community college, i was only going part time). I left a job a couple months ago out of nowhere, despite my reason for staying there as long as i did being that i wanted to work somewhere for a year to prove that i could do it. I only made it six months(still the longest ive ever worked somewhere, im young) before i applied to go work as a waiter and left. Both of these massive-life altering decisions were made at the drop of a hat because I got tired of them. I am absolutely flaky enough for this to be a concern for me.

I really enjoy working as a waiter at a diner. It great, and ive never felt so fulfilled before. But I work the graveyard shift, so it can get really boring some nights. Thankfully, i can always count on this one regular to provide a great conversation. We'll talk for hours-me, him, and the cook- about all sorts of stuff. The economy, politics, history, our worldviews, random shit, anything that keeps us all entertained. We've got a lot in common and he reminds me of my boyfriend. Therein lies the issue. This guy's really attractive(to me) and that's *bad*.

I love my boyfriend dearly, but we don't have the most in common(different worldviews, different interests, different personalities, different schedules). I found myself really grateful that he isn't there for those conversations. He gets a little jealous at times(not, like, a concerning amount, just a normal amount) and im sure that watching my face light up talking to a guy we aren't actually friends with about power rangers and hope and the good in people and all that would have been uncomfortable to say the least.

What got me thinking about this was when the guy left. He was done with his food but said he'd stay a while to keep talking. I had another regular to take care of who had plenty she was dying to tell me. When i got back over to him he looked sad, disappointed, and almost sheepish. I asked if he was tired and he hit me with a defeated "yeah, tired, that's it". I know it sounds kinda arrogant to say im pretty sure he's into me, but im hot and you learn to see the signs after a while. Also he mentioned repeatedly about how there aren't enough people out there like me, my energy is infectious, I got his heart beating(in the inspiration way), he liked watching my face light up, etc, etc. You get the picture.

I guess the real issue is that im a people pleaser. Ive got relatively mild anxiety, but Im scared im gonna hurt my boyfriend (he's been in some pretty bad relationships) so I worry about it. We've been dating for a year and a half and ive had a few dreams where i cheat on him(nightmare feels to extreme of a negative, like theyre /bad/ dreams but i dont wake from them in a cold sweat with a sense of dread that i just cant kick).

So when i caught myself practically blushing during my conversation with the guy during my shift last night(this morning, technically) i started thinking and i can't stop. I feel bad(guilty) for enjoying talking to him so much. I know i didn't *do* anything, and I sure as hell don't *plan* on doing anything, but ive got this pit in my stomach and im terrified(anxious) that im gonna lose all my inhibitions and just randomly decide to cheat on my boyfriend for some reason.

I feel like im not good enough for my boyfriend. He deserves someone better. Someone better at this stuff. Someone he has more in common with. Someone who wouldn't even ponder the idea of being with someone else(The regular isn't even like ~my dream guy~ or anything, he's just a guy I vibe with). Someone he can rely on to love him as much as he deserves to be loved. I love him, but i don't know if love him with every fiber of my being, every atom of my body.

My boyfriend, this beautiful broken man who loves so hard, makes me feel safe. But not just in the good way. He feels like the safe choice, and im an adrenaline junkie.

I'm turning 20 next month. I've never been on a sports team for more than one season, never finished a year of college courses, never held a job for more than half a year, never been in a (previous) relationship for more than a few months, never gone clubbing, never lived away from my parents, and ive never done so many other things. My boyfriend is 23. He's done plenty of things that I'll never get to(not all good ideas) if i stay with him.

I hate that im missing out on so much, but it's not like a better option exists. What am i gonna do? Break up with the man with a stable job and a family that likes me, the man my family likes, the one ive spent the past year and a half madly in love with, the one who wants to *marry* me? -- "Uh, yeah, I know you're like the best and i love you and you love me and we generally work despite our differences, but im leaving you for the vagrant gas station clerk who i know very little about besides the fact that he does LSD and may very well believe that the jews control the world and he definitely wants biological kids and I definitely don't, so even if I lucked out on everything else, we still wouldn't last and also I don't *actually* know for sure if he into me or not"-- like, no, that's objectively stupid.

TLDR: im stupid and young and insecure and vaguely attracted to a guy i run into sometimes at work but im taken so i feel guilty about it and i can't talk to my boyfriend about it because he gets jealous and he's also insecure, but im questioning my entire life because i know my boyfriend wants to settle down and marry me but my life has barely started

[deliciousandfunthing]

I think I might be in a bit of a pickle.

Honestly, being surrounded by people who constantly try to point out my flaws or just keep pushing me to get something or be someone they'd call "the standard" of a normal person around my age just brings out all the anxiety I've tucked away for awhile.

I know and believe that life isn't just a or b, black or white, one or two but it's a whole story a person had written and will continue to write based on their choices and preferences. Yet, society just had to generalised and define what they can call normal or again "the standard".

Then all of a sudden, most people will have the burden or expectations to be normal.

Living alone for a long time has got me a relationship with myself. I know what I actually feel and want each day and in a long term or broad scenario of life. I can say that I'm very fortunate to have found my calling in life and decided to take the road I feel like I need to take.

However, walking this road is also a huge challenge in my so called life. I knew from the start that it won't be easy, but actually experiencing it now is still something I'm not prepared for. Literally, I'm struggling so hard to keep my cool and stick to what I've known about myself.

Not losing who I am has been the hardest of them all. When everyone is trying to tell you who you need to be, it's never easy to fight back and say who you want to be. I sincerely applaud anyone who is brave and strong enough to disregard others in that matter and manage to live for themselves.

I wish I had that strength.

Right now, I'm very confused about what I'm feeling, about what I want, and what I have to do. Lots of people have been telling me A, but now that I kept thinking about A, I feel even more lost than I was before.

Even praying to be A is confusing at the moment. Do I really want God to fulfil this wish? What do I really want? Where do I really want to be? Who do I really want to be?

The answer is, I don't know.

How do we keep the noises away? How can we build a strong shield and protect ourselves? How should we fight for what we think is right without hurting others? How do we say it loud and clear and let it all out?

I want to enjoy everyday like I live for today and not tomorrow.

I want to be honest with myself and not feel guilty about it.

I want to stand tall and be proud of the little thing I did because I deserve it.

I wish people would stop forcing their ideals onto me and I hope I can be strong enough to say no and make them understand that this is the life I want to live in.

[xkv8r]

Hi, I'm XKV8R and I write 1st person vore/feeding scenarios. If you're reading this, you've probably seen one of my other works, in which case you already know what I do, but in case you haven't, I almost exclusively write this kind of stuff for other people.

I don't typically post the stuff I write for myself for several reasons, but mostly because it's weird, messed up, and probably gives you more insight into my mental state than is wise. Today however, I have something thematically appropriate for Easter, so I'm going to try and be a bit more brave than usual and make this public.

3360 words

(CW: Vore, willing prey, implied fatal, M/?, candygore)

Chocolate is meant to be eaten, it is meant to be enjoyed, it is meant to satisfy the cravings that animals evolved to have. Their ancestors struggled for their entire lives to experience slivers of the abundant luxury that they are surrounded by every waking moment. Fats and sugars were rare, valuable commodities to people even a hundred years prior, and I am made of the stuff.

My chocolate shell was masterfully sculpted and enchanted to make me the spitting image of a anthropomorphic rabbit. The spells that animate me flex my limbs in ways that perfectly mimic a real person, stretching and reforming to produce a convincing illusion of life. From a distance, one might assume I was simply wearing body paint, but up close, reality is undeniable. I am a chocolate golem.

I am not truly alive, merely a magical construct given confectionery form and preserved. Kept behind thick glass so that the intricate carvings that mimic fur and clothes cannot be harmed by a careless touch, and chilled to 18 degrees Celsius so that I will not melt in the warmth I so desperately crave. I am cold. They keep me so cold.

I gaze longingly at the store patrons, watching people laugh and chat idly with their families, as they snack on rich sweets and decadent desserts. I wish so badly to be a part of that joy, to be devoured in celebration of a grand event, but I am denied my fate.

I have seen other golems, grand constructs of iron and stone, they are permitted to serve their masters as laborers, carrying and building things. They are content, fulfilled in carrying out their purpose. The spellcraft animating them leaves echoes on my own, and I can sense their joy at serving in these ways. This is what those materials were made for after all, to build and bear loads.

I sometimes wonder if the artificers who enchanted me were cruel. They did not see fit to gift me speech, so perhaps they simply did not know that I could feel lonely in here. I can only wave silently at the passing crowds to greet them as they enter and to wish them goodbye as they leave. I am an advertisement, a display of opulence, that the confectioners who own me could afford to have a golem made from such an impractical material, and even I must admit, an effective one.

People stare at me from across the street, children press their noses against the glass and look at me in awe. These fleeting moments stir the dim embers of desires unfulfilled in me. To them, I am something fantastical, and they let their minds wander and for only the briefest of moments, allow themselves to fantasize about devouring me.

I was not aware for much of my creation, but I can only imagine how much time, effort, and money was spent to create something like me. For something made of chocolate, I am almost as detailed as a real person, molded features accented by fine chiselwork stand as a testament to the skill of the craftsmen who made me, and demonstrate the quality of the stores goods. My body was crafted expertly to appeal to others, gentle curves and a soft androgynous shape contrast with the exotic nature of my construction. Part of me feels guilty at wanting to destroy that. So much work was put into me, the idea of destroying all that to fulfill my own desires feels selfish, vain even. I should be happy, simply to exist, but that isn't enough for me. The shame of being so unwilling to accept my lot in life eats away at me, but the desires do not abate. Chocolate was made to be eaten, and that desire is as carved into me as the pleasant smile on my face is.

I know the regulars by name and face, but also by their steadily growing waistlines. The sweets of this place bring such pleasure that more than a few have cheerfully eaten themselves into obesity. Once, I brought them joy too, I was a novelty, something unique. But now I have become routine for them, part of the background, something to be ignored. I could do it again, I know the gluttony that is hiding behind their masks of propriety. I see them stare greedily at the treats they cannot have, the thick blocks of fudge and glazed pastries they have to leave behind as they waddle home. Yet they ignore me, the most forbidden of fruits. They, like my creators, refuse to see me for the food I am.

The sponge cake and fondant sculptures that surround me in my glass vault are undeniably pretty, but they are edible only in the sense that they could be eaten. They were not made to be eaten. I wonder if I had been made like them, if I would still harbor these desires. It may not have been my designers intent, but by nature, I am edible in ways the other pieces are not. Where eating the other art would be a chore, I could make eating me a once in a lifetime experience. Decadent beyond imagination.

With all my daydreaming, I scarcely notice most of the customers leaving, having been waving at them mostly on automatic, but I suddenly look back to see the staff packing up for the night. The closed hours are always the worst, I don't need to sleep and so, I have nothing but the darkness and my own thoughts for company. When the last of the workers leave, and the lights shut off, I would whimper if I could, but instead there is only silence, broken intermittently by the hum of the compressor keeping me cold.

I collapse in a heap on the refrigerated astroturf, and wallow in my misery. Staring out the window into the empty streets and wishing, hoping, that one day I could be the meal someone needs. Only the occasional night owl or service golem stalk the streets this late, and I can do nothing but watch as they pass me by, ignored completely.

I know most of them by sight as well, couriers and servants who scurry silently from place to place, carrying out their masters will. I am surprised to see a construction golem out this late however, shambling almost aimlessly down the street where it stops in front of my window.

The golem looks at me, it can sense my despair at being unable to fulfill my purpose, just as I can sense its joy at fulfilling its purpose. It pauses, staring at me and I stare back, and then it puts a hand on the glass of my case.

If I had a heart it would have leapt in joy. In my mind I beg it to free me, I know I ask so much of it, to destroy is against its nature, just as to be preserved like this is against mine. "Please." I think, over and over. "Please. Please. Please." When suddenly a crack begins to form where the golem has its hand against my glass prison. "Yes!" I think at the golem as hard as I can, and the cracks start to spiderweb. I take a step backwards and the window shatters. I leap out of the case and throw my arms around the golem in a hug as it quietly contemplates the act it has committed with its hand still outstretched. I thank the golem as much as I can before darting off into the cool night air.

Cool, not cold. For the first time I can remember, the refrigerated cold is gone, replaced by a pleasant evening chill. Balmy by comparison to what I have always known. As elated as I am by this new sensation, my time is limited. In a few hours, my chocolate shell will start to soften, and I will begin to be immobilized by my own melting body, I have precious few moments outside before my body fails me, and I must make good use of them.

The streets are mostly empty by now, and I can easily pass as an ordinary brown rabbit from a distance, so I move swiftly through the streets, never letting anyone get more than a brief glimpse of me. The lack of a crowd is a double edged sword however, I spot few potential candidates for whom I could make myself a meal. Plenty of ordinarily sized people, and a handful with some chub clinging to their frames, but nobody bearing the hallmarks of the gluttony required for something like me.

For a few moments that feel like hours, I fear I will find nobody capable of eating me and that I am doomed to melt before I am eaten. But then, suddenly I hear the creaking of wood and peek around a corner only to see what must be destiny. A racoon is sitting on a bench, which flexes under his immense frame. Long past even morbid obesity, the racoon grunts as he slides his massive behind into a more comfortable position on the bench. He is among the fattest people I have ever seen, even among the confectionery shop patrons. Every bit of him wobbles as he moves, from his ham sized thighs to his jelly like jowls and chunky chest. I watch in awe as he leans forward, doughy gut bulging out from underneath his shirt to retrieve a paper bag and from within he pulls… a single sandwich.

He looks almost as disappointed as I am in the meager meal and quickly scarfs it down as his stomach rumbles so loudly that I can hear it even from my hiding place. He sighs and leans back on the bench, clearly unsatisfied with his dinner as he balls up the paper bag and tosses it into a nearby bin. A flabby arm almost as big around as my leg reaches down to rub his grey boulder of a belly, which pokes out from beneath his shirt, no doubt trying to soothe the gnawing hunger within. Nobody gets that fat on a meal of single sandwiches, even someone born yesterday could see his meal was wholly inadequate. It doesn't take me but a moment to make up my mind. It's too late to fix his dinner, but I can still offer him dessert.

I step out into the open and confidently stride towards the miserable looking racoon, and it doesn't take long for him to notice me. He glances my way before doing a double take, and his jaw falls open in shock. He rubs his eyes but I do not vanish. With so much grace you'd think it was practiced, I saunter over to the bench, sit down, and lay my arm over the side before giving him a suggestive head tilt.

His stomach growls as he picks up the scent of chocolate, and the portly racoon flushes bright red at his involuntary response. He is stunned by the sight of me, and I am giddy with pride. His mouth moves as if to ask me if I am real, but he can't find the words. Instead, he reaches out a paw to gently place it against my torso, and he seems shocked when he finds it solid. The warmth of his touch makes me shudder with anticipation, I am so close now. He lifts his paw from me, but an imprint of his pad and toes remains where his body heat melted the fine detailing on my chest. Confusion and sorrow at having damaged something so delicate marr the raccoons face, but I am filled with joyous glee, I was not meant for a life in a refrigerated display case, I was created to be eaten!

I gently grip his arm, bring his chocolate stained paw to his face and mutely gesture for him to taste it. The racoon pauses briefly before giving in to temptation and tasting the residue coating the paw. As he does, his eyes go wide at even the faint echo of my flavor. Beaming with pride, I puff out my chest and stand ready to be consumed. He has a couple false starts, but eventually gluttony overpowers reason and the raccoon leans forward to lick my sugary coating. The moment he tastes me, all hesitation vanishes. Quashed by the overpowering taste of rich, decadent milk chocolate.

I lay down on the bench, offering myself to the racoon feet first, and he drools with hunger. There's no pain as he bites through my leg, just a numb pop as powerful jaws effortlessly crack open the delicate shell and slice clean through me, his teeth leaving little crescent shaped marks along the edge. Thick sweet caramel filling oozes out of the opening and quickly makes a mess as he eagerly laps up my sticky insides. The opening is simply too big, and viscous blobs drip onto his fur even as he gorges himself, matting it with sugary goop.

When the flow from my leg begins to slow, he lifts me over his head with strength I did not expect and gravity resumes the waterfall of golden goodness. The raccoon doesn't even seem to process the fact that this much filling could not possibly have fit inside that space, every available ounce of brainpower dedicated to experiencing the overwhelming richness dancing across his palate.

With one of my limbs packed away inside the striped glutton, his belly is already looking somewhat swollen, but it's clearly not enough as he chomps down on my remaining leg without hesitation, gulping down more heavenly sweet caramel filling. He lets out cute moans of pleasure as he sucks out the filling from the magically enlarged void before biting through my shell with slow chomps.

Having packed away my lower half without trouble, the raccoon lets out a burp and pants for a few moments while rubbing his belly before looking back and suddenly seeming to understand what he's just done in his gluttonous haze. He stares back in horror, having damaged me beyond repair, and the expression on his face feels like a knife in my soul. Doesn't he understand that I'm just food? That this is what I want? What I was meant for?

I reach out to wipe some of the chocolate smeared on his face off with a paw, before sticking a finger in his mouth. He looks conflicted again for only a few moments as he runs his tongue across my finger and then instinct takes over and he bites down. His eyes roll back in his head as chocolate syrup gushes forth from the break, and he eagerly begins to gulp down the flow of dark sugary goodness. When the torrent from one arm starts to subside, I force the other into his maw and he bites down to resume the flow. Thick swallows bloat out his belly, and I am enraptured by its warm soft texture as it presses against me. My devourer grabs me by the shoulders and bites through my remaining limbs, pulling me closer and pressing me more and more against his belly with every bite.

I am in ecstasy. The warmth is everything I imagined it would be and more. I don't care that my chest is starting to melt and smear against his belly, this feels so right it's outright impossible to think coherent thoughts. I want more, he wants more, we are entwined together now as predator and prey, but soon as blubberball and fat.

He nibbles playfully on my chest, sharp canines leaving little divots in my chocolate shell. His tongue swipes across me, obliterating delicate carving and intricate paintwork, leaving nothing but featureless matte curves in its wake.

My carved fur is nearly completely gone, smoothed over and washed away. It's not as if it would be of any use to me now, it served its purpose in making me an attractive meal, and would only slow my descent into his stomach. Besides, nobody is ever going to see it where I'm going anyway.

The raccoon presses me against the roof of his mouth and the shell along my chest breaks cleanly in two with a satisfying pop. Marshmallow filling, compacted by the chocolate surges outward, swelling me to colossal proportions and forcing his jaws open with a surprised squeak.

It takes minutes of tough chewing to break off a section of chocolate covered marshmallow small enough to swallow. The blob descends like a meteor, exploding outward once it passes the tight confines of his throat and enters his less constrained stomach. Not the least bit deterred by this development, he redoubles his efforts, and I can see his belly swell outward with each gulp as marshmallow goop expands to fill every inch of space.

I savor every minute I get while able to see him enjoying me like this, but all things must come to an end, and eventually he clears enough of my torso to pull my head between his jaws and into his warm, wet maw, shutting me off from the outside world forever. I get one last look at his spherical, chocolate smeared gut before my vision goes dark for a final time. Almost immediately, I can feel myself softening up, heat and saliva work their magic to prepare me for the main event. I can feel the vibrations from groans of rapturous pleasure as he rubs his tongue across what remains of me, mashing my face against it and wiping away more of my features.

Finally, he tilts his head back and swallows, sending my half melted remains down to be digested. Crushed and squeezed by his powerful throat muscles I'm pressed into a stomach already packed to the brim with sugary sludge, and squashed tightly against the marshmallow filling from what feels like mere moments ago.

I can hear him outside, eagerly licking away the chocolate smeared across his muzzle and paws, cleaning each one with a smack. Sounds of gluttonous satisfaction and chocolatey bliss rumble across his blubbery frame, along with the occasional sugary belch.

The sugar crash doesn't take long to kick in, and when it hits, it hits like a freight train. He yawns loud enough for me to hear it over the sounds of being digested, and i fluster myself imagining his wide open maw, wishing I could pass through it again. I slosh about gently as the racoon waddles his way back to his bed, and I can feel him grip his stuffed stomach with both paws, trying to stop it sloshing back and forth but it's a futile effort with how much mass is contained within. When he finally settles in, I hear his heartbeat and breathing slow within minutes of him lying down. All the better for him anyway. I wouldn't want him to waste any of the precious calories a whole persons worth of sugar and butter could provide. Better to ensure as much of me as possible is spent fattening him up, it's what I was made for after all. A decadent reward for a truly obscene glutton, no greater purpose than to provide fuel for a body to grow wider and heavier.

Soon enough, I too, am drifting off. The magic animating me dissipating as I melt into a thick, rich sludge. Even as the spellwork that forms my mind starts to unravel, and my thoughts become slow and unfocused, any regrets I have are smothered beneath an overwhelming sense of pride. I have fulfilled my purpose, given myself completely over to someone and set them down a path of gluttonous excess. I have given the gift of insatiable hunger, an impossible to satisfy greed that will only spur the bearer on to preform more obscene feats of hedonistic gorging. He will barely be able to walk by the time I am digested, I can only imagine how much more he will hunger for when he awakens. He will eat himself fatter than he ever imagined now, all he needed was the right push.

[kokitschi]

"like, once he's got miu and gonta killed, it's like nooo im totally not acting out because i feel extremely guilty. nooo this kamikaze plan is definitely not a direct result of that. i am simply the antagonist. im evil and crazy and this is what is in character for me. this is simply my curtain call."

I NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT IT LIKE THAT NOOO. but YES omg that. plays SUCH a part. he's trying SO hard to make himself completely logical and cold and calculating to help everyone without all those silly caveats. but he's HUMAN and he FEELS and he's doing this to help everyone and he feels so so bad about everything he's doing (except he's not, obviously, that's sooo dumb why would he feel bad about helping everyone? you're so dumb :/ NO HE'S NOT CRYING SHUT UP)

ohh and that SO helps him detach from everything doesn't it. he so THOROUGHLY sees himself as the antagonist because of his own guilt that he starts planning his own downfall, literally becoming his own worst enemy because he cannot let this shit continue but also he's the one doing it? and it's for the good of everyone? but that's what every villain says.

(man writes his own narrative. tsumugi who?)

(no seriously my most self-indulgent headcanon is that so much of kokichi's bullshit was completely unplanned. like they wrote the characters and some of their progression but they did NOT plan for this so every time some more crazy bullshit happens and tsumugi's got her whole "omg O_O that's so weird guys!!" schtick going it's almost COMPLETELY genuine because internally she's genuinely just going "what the fuck??? i did not sign up for this shit." layers upon layers of pretending. also it's my silly little way of letting kokichi win in my brain. because he DID confuse the mastermind. even if it was mostly just a series of inconveniences.)

anyway your brain is iconic. got me rotating.

im still not over how many crying sprites this guy has - and i also think it's pretty clear when he's fake crying and when he isn't and he certainly was crying for real after the fourth trial.

i think it's very wonderful how emotional he actually is - like, yes, he's logical, smart and he can be cold af. but he also gets happy and sad, he gets devastated and super angry, he gets annoyed and he gets proud. and sure, sometimes he does exaggerate and he lies (a lot) - but i don't think it's all lies. i think he likes to pretend like it is though. and well, what's that one quote... "he wears a mask and his face grows to fit it" or smth like that

and i think that's an important aspect - because no matter how much you tell yourself that it's just a role, a mask - in the end you're still the one doing everything. you are how you act.

and i think kokichis very self aware in this aspect. ch 4 happens and he knows, this isn't something he can come back from. he fucked up beyond repair. and while he did already believe himself to be the villain, and perhaps this was a self fulfilling prophecy of a kind, i think actually having something like basically killing two people on your conscience gives it a whole different weight.

i think he had to confront the reality at this point and i think it made him despair a bit - which then leads to the kamikaze plan. (because why does someone who was just willing to sacrifice two people for his own survival suddenly choose to basically kill himself? and trust someone else to end the game?)

-

i love the hc that kokichi did genuinely derail the whole game! i think it's credible enough too, considering the absolute mess that was chapter 6.

and monokuma sometimes really seemed to have personal beef with him which to me says that he was actually getting pissed at him lol

tsumugi also seemed to be quite wary of him - though you can also interpret that as her setting him up as the antagonist ig. i think it was both.

-

my brain is very honored ♥️

i very much enjoy yours too :D

[vismundcygnus]

Journal 4.14.23

I don't really know what's wrong with me. Like, I have guesses, but I can't really relate to anyone at all, or at least, that's what it feels like.

I'm strongly emotional and empathetic, but suppressed and cold. I'm glad to offer help, advice, and comfort, but stumble and feel detached from other's strong emotions. I feel strong guilt from how detached I am, from the world, from people, from happiness. I'm just hollowed out, like there's nothing inside. I desperately want to be able to be "normal". I want the pain to go away.

I fear hurting people with how much I withdraw. I feel like a feral animal. I feel evil. It took me a while to understand just how painful it is for someone to watch me slip away from them. I fear that the few relationships I have will become too much to handle, that I will withdraw, and that I will inevitably hurt them.

I do try to seek out social situations, but only when I can keep people at arms length. The internet makes it easy! I never keep any consistency with my usernames and identities, and can easily slip out of communities when they are no longer fulfilling, and no one chases after me. I can share things about myself that others might see as private, but I'm so detached from those parts of myself in the moment that I don't even care. The most important things are the ones I've hardly told anyone.

I even fear the reactions I might have to my partner. It's manageable in an online relationship, but what happens when things get too close for comfort? Will I hate it? Will I be disappointed in myself? Will I be able to handle everything outside of it: their family, their obligations, their affections? I can't even connect with my own family. The idea that I won't be able to be a fulfilling partner makes me feel guilty, too.

Anxiety and inferiority comes in waves. Anger and sadness can be strong and explosive. I don't care for being around people and I enjoy being alone, but I know it's good for me to keep a small circle around. Sometimes I fear judgement, but it's really just that I feel like I'll be immediately noticed as a "freak", that I will be subjugated, or that I will be condescended to. I lash out unnecessarily because I think that all people will see me this way.

I've joined a whole discord and socialize pretty heavily in it and I'm very happy about it, unlike pretty much any other community I've ever been a part of. I feel like we enjoy what we do for a lot of the same reasons, that we have the same thoughts and ideas about the media. So, I don't feel like a "freak". The fact that it isn't in real life helps considerably, because It feels like I just... cannot function around other people without being drunk or high sometimes. I get detached, distant, aloof.

Who knows.

[jediken0bi]

At The End Of The Day

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary:

Reid is scared his Job is eventually going to take away the thing he loves the most. You.

word count: 2023

-

Spencer sat on the counter in the kitchen, sipping on his sugary coffee and watching you move around the room. You decided you wanted homemade Waffles this morning and Spencer made the quick decision to not even attempt to lend a helping hand. He usually ends up burning half of the food anyway so you're not complaining.

And if you're being honest you liked being able to do something nice for him while he relaxes. It's not like that's something you get to see all that often.

You really only get to have Spencer to yourself on the Weekends and even then your time together isn't always guaranteed.

That's something you guys struggled with a lot. He even more so than you now that you think about it. He is so quick to beat himself up over not being able to spend more time with you and it breaks your heart.

Of course you would like to see your boyfriend more often but you know how much he loves his Job and you would never ask him to quit or hold his crazy schedule against him.

After all, it's not Spencers fault serial killers don't take the weekends off.

You throw little glances at Spencer every time you add a little bit of batter into the Waffle Maker and each time you find him already looking at you with loving eyes and a silly smile plastered on his face.

You can't help but giggle a bit before shaking your head lightly.

There are certainly days where you can't wrap your head around the fact that the genius with the pretty face feels the same affection towards you as you do.

Another minute goes by before he puts his coffee down, pushes himself off the counter and walks over to you to carefully wrap his arms around your waist.

"Someone is awfully cuddly this morning", you say with a huge smile on your face. You lean into his touch so he knows you don't actually mind the closeness.

He still has days where he can't tell whether or not you're making a lighthearted joke or are trying to reject his advances. It took him a long time to be able to initiate physical contact without you having to make the first move or ask for it.

That's not because he didn't love you though. He simply didn't know what to do in a relationship.

He was trying to figure out the do's and don't's and you were more than happy to help him learn and understand what it means to be truly loved by someone.

Nowadays he doesn't hesitate to seek comfort in your arms and there's nothing you can think of that makes you happier than that.

All you ever wanted was for Spencer to feel at home with you.

He put his head on your shoulder and smiled into the crease of your neck

"I can't help it. I haven't seen you in 8 days, 5 hours and 24 minutes and now that i'm here i don't wanna waste a single second of it"

You silently put the last Waffle on the plate you set out and turned your head so you could face him.

You try to catch his eyes and as soon as you do, you press a light peck onto his pink lips.

"I missed you so much", you say while he softly grabs your waist to turn you around positioning you so that you're facing him.

He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, your nose, your cheek and suddenly stops right before your lips.

"I missed you too, my love"

Before you can form an answer he plants a firm and loving kiss on your lips making you forget about breakfast for a second.

But only for a second.

You start smiling into the kiss and lightly push him away. The distance between you two only big enough to let you catch your breath before you laugh and say

"Let's go eat. We haven't had breakfast together in a bit and i wanna cuddle on the couch and watch some Doctor Who"

He laughs and nods his head so his short curls fall into his face.

You bite your lip to suppress a grin before tucking the lose strand of hair behind his ear.

He reaches behind you to grab the plate and makes his way towards the couch you two picked out just over a month ago.

You follow him immediately, feeling giddy that you get to cuddle your boyfriend for the first time in days.

He puts the plate down, plops down on the couch and immediately opens his arms to invite you to get comfortable in them.

While you snuggle into his chest he grabs the remote and starts queuing Doctor Who Episodes for you guys to watch and analyze together.

You wrap your arms around his torso and bury your head into his neck. You sigh happily and plant tiny kisses on his shoulder and neck.

He tightens one of his arms around you and starts playing with your hair

-time skip-

Almost three hours later, the waffles long gone, you get up to get some drinks for the two of you.

As the credits to the third episode start rolling you can't help but notice that Spencer had gotten unusually quite.

You sit down next to him, put a hand on his arm and ask with a calm voice

"Baby what's wrong? You got so quiet and it looks like something's bothering you. Did something happen at work? Did the case end bad? Whatever it is Spencer i want to be there for you"

He looks at you with wide eyes. Almost like a kid with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. He looks guilty and it's making you nervous. You know you can't push him but you would be lying if you said you weren't worried.

He looks down for a second unsure of his next move. He takes a deep breath and hesitantly turns around to look at you.

Your hand immediately finding its place on your boyfriends jaw. Running your thumb over his stubble in a calming matter.

He leans into your touch and closes his eyes for a second.

You knew that he would eventually start talking so you had no problem patiently waiting for him to summon the courage to say whatever was on his mind.

"I was talking to Morgan the other day and he said something that got me thinking. Actually, i think it's fair to say that thinking turned into overthinking really quick. Although i don't know anymore. At this point, it might be a completely valid fear and i'm just trying to convince myself it's not. Of course you could apply that logic the other way around as well but - I'm rambling, aren't it", he says in pretty much one breath.

You show him a understanding smile and say,

"Yeah but it's okay. I want to hear what's on your mind. No matter how confusing"

He looks up at me and smiles with sad eyes

"I know you do and that's why the thought of ever losing you drives me completely insane"

You stare at him for a moment not understanding why he would be thinking of losing you before taking his hand into yours and asking

"Spence, do you want to tell me what you and Morgan talked about?"

He sighs loudly and runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

Looking straight at you he decides 'Now or Never'.

"He just broke up with his girlfriend and we were all trying to be there for him. He seemed completely fine but you never know with Morgan so i went to talk to him about the break up and he just smiled at me and said 'It is what it is, Pretty Boy. Relationships are doomed to break in our line of profession. Enjoy it while it lasts' "

he tells you doing a weird impression of Derek.

Under different circumstances you would've laughed.

You look at Spencer with a small smile on your face. He looks so distressed, you can't help but run your hand through his curls and climb into his lap.

He doesn't waste a second wrapping his arms around you to secure your position and before he can question you, you say

"So that's what this is about? You thinking i might leave you because of your Job?"

He shakes his head slightly and looks up to meet your eyes

"No this is about you deserving a boyfriend who doesn't spend 90% of his time a couple of states away from you every week. It's about me not wanting to make you feel like you come second when there's nothing that's more important to me than you. I would quit my Job if you asked me to. There's plenty of Jobs out there but no one quite like you. I hate to think that you might come to resent me for being away so much"

You run your hand through his curls again and smile softly. It's your turn to shake your head.

"What i deserve is a boyfriend who loves me for who i am. Someone who cares about my feelings and thoughts. Someone who doesn't mind binge watching Doctor Who with me on the weekends because i like that way better than going out. Someone who reads my favorite book so we can have a conversation about it. Someone who shows me how much he cares every single day. And i already have all that. I don't need anything or anyone else. I promise."

Spencers eyes are shut tightly and he leans his forehead on yours. He presses a light kiss to your nose and wistfully admits

"I'm just so scared my Job is going to take you away one day"

You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper

"I know a thing or two about that. Baby, you do so much good in the World. I couldn't be more proud if i tried. Let me ask you something. You like your Job, right? Despite everything it asks of you?"

He nods softly and opens his eyes

"I love my Job. Helping people gives me a chance to make a real change. It's what i've always wanted to do."

You smile at him and hum in agreement

"That's right. And you love me too, right?", you ask cheekily

He looks at you like you hung the moon, grabs your hand to press a soft kiss against it and says

"Of course i do. More than anything"

You once again nod in agreement.

"Then you have to understand that the World isn't always 'This or That'. I would never ask you to quit your job for me. I wouldn't want that. I love you too much to take away the thing that fulfills you and makes you happy. Relationships take work, Spencer. I'm not saying it won't be rough sometimes but at the end of the day you're my Clark Kent to the BAU's Superman and i wouldn't change a thing"

He looks at you with loving eyes that are glazed over with unshed tears and whispers

"I'm going to marry you one day, i promise. I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing you that you're loved beyond compare"

He starts covering your face in kisses resulting in you laughing at his antics.

This wasn't the first time you two talked about marriage. You knew that he was the man you were going to walk down the aisle to. There wasn't a doubt in your mind.

You push him back down on the couch so you can lay down on his chest and say

"Now that we've established that you looove me, i think it's time for you to start the next episode. It's my favorite!"

You said it in a mocking voice but it genuinely did make your heart beat faster and he knew that.

"Damn straight i do", he says as he reaches for the remote.

Weekends with Spencer are simply the best.

[thattimdrakeguy]

I may not know you well at all to be speaking in regards to your troubles, but in my eyes, it doesn’t stop one from wanting to let you know that it is ok to let it out in some way. Fortunately, given your most recent post, I am glad to see that you chose to vent it here, vent it aloud instead of potentially referring to otherwise detrimental means. I am by no means a professional, nor can I guarantee that I can offer the right type of comfort in which you may seek deep down. But if one thing is for certain, it is that I am grateful you express it aloud, and more so that you are going to seek therapy. This is not to give you pity in any way… if anything, I am nowhere near to being the right person to do so. I am simply someone who finds joy every now and then, seeing your posts about Tim Drake which got me further into the DC universe. But that doesn’t mean that I am also someone who sincerely hopes that everything will be alright for you, whether that be in the future or now, I hope it wraps you in a blanket of warmth and something close to fulfillment, where you can finally feel at total peace if even just for a moment—a moment, nonetheless, that I hope with all my heart leads to a spark for permanent greater change, even if it’s gradual. I hope you find happiness, and I understand it isn’t easy, especially given the things we see in the real world. But I think that you’ll find some amazing experiences, amazing people, whether it be in the big or small things as I did finding you and your blog here. I hope this doesn’t come off too cliché or anything, worse uncomfortable, but I wanted to just offer you a hug of sorts through this time in which you’re feeling down. Please, reach out… there is ALWAYS someone who is waiting and I speak from personal experience. It’s still taking me a while to open up even a little to alleviate things, but you may find it relieving, whether it be a personal healthy means of coping like journaling, or more outwardly by just standing outside in cool of the night breeze.

I hope this finds you well, and please take care.

I'm sorry if I've seemed rude by not responding to this sooner. I mostly clicked off of Tumblr last night. I kept deleting and undeleting my Twitter and Discord, feeling like I wanted to run away from everyone without actually committing to it because I didn't have it in me.

And it means a lot to me that you'd spend your time sending me this, even if I didn't respond to it at first. It's not something everyone would do, or would know how to really go about it. But you still did, and that just means a lot to me, truthfully. You didn't need to be a professional, you just needed to be a good person, and that's enough for me to appreciate it.

I'm just glad and honored that my Tim Drake posts are something you enjoy so much, or at least enough to actually put the effort into enjoying something else. Like that's a freaking hoot to hear, honestly. I think that's great.

Man, I feel like I'm not really saying enough back, I don't have the beautiful words in my mind to give back to the gorgeous ones you gave me. There's a part of my soul right now feeling guilty for that.

The sincerity and sweetness that you've expressed to me has been enough to make me proper emotional in a way that isn't total despair.

So it seems that I should express to you a greater expression of appreciation for passing your little blessing along to me. Because you didn't have to, but you did, and that was a wonderful thing you did for me. You're in my heart now.

[thedreamingscorpio]

The Musings Of A Hero

This is my take on an insight in the mind of Mirai/Future Trunks.

Hope you enjoy❤!

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13805545/1/The-Musings-Of-A-Hero

AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/29027949

Please contact me for due credits of the image used, I couldn’t trace the artist sadly and if you do please let me know!

They call me a 'Hero'...I truly wonder what that means. In my mind, the only people I consider heroes are the ones who fought, fought until their very last breath and yet still died-my father, Goku and...Him.

He was my first mentor, he, who saw the real me, the weak insecure boy, and yet still trained me, loved me, became my father, brother, companion and mentor, everything at once. He who fulfilled all these roles, without once having thought of his own needs.

In the face of adversity, he was our world's hope, our first and only line of defense, fearless, and strong, staring death in its eyes every day. Yet still, forever humble, tired to the bone, but still smiling.

Never once did he think about himself, even when he died, he wanted to save me. I can't help but think I was a catalyst to his demise. I mean, maybe he would've been alive had he not had me to burden him.

Mom, says its illogical of me to think that way, its stupid, and some distant part of my brain agrees. After all, more people equals more strength right, but...there's this feeling that gnaws at my stomach...what if?

Would he be alive and happy like the Gohan of the past? Probably not, but he wouldn't have died that very day, right? He'd get to live a little more of his life, if anything, have freer days, pay some attention to himself, instead of babysitting me. Even one uneventful day was a small celebration of sorts, and he deserved every little ounce of happiness.

Sure, we were all living our lives on borrowed days, but it could've been easier, perhaps an instant massacre would've been easier to cope with.

But to know, that he suffered all by himself, and knowing our enemies, tortured to no end, and died a painful death... alone.

I still can't shake the memory of his body, soaked and limp, mocking my hopeful thoughts of him having survived. And the rain, my partner in mourning, washing away my bitter tears, as they flowed mercilessly down my cheeks.

The painful confirmation when I looked into his emotionless...lifeless face was enough for me to ascend.

How'd you do it?

Wow, you must be really powerful, aren't you happy, you have such amazing power?

With that strength, you must've saved everything dear to you...

If only..

Excited and sad remarks were all I received for a while, but what was I to say?

I lost my hero, my everything, and became a cheap rip-off of the real deal...

And they say I'm humble...

I guess death is a humbling notion.

I've faced a lot of trauma over the years, in every imaginable way, but every pain is a mere shadow to the pain brought by his death...Gohan, why couldn't you wait for me?

They say pain becomes easier to deal with, cope with, and it is true, but having seen the most powerful, unshakable person in your life, cold and dead...

It kills a piece of you forever.

Left to rot, infect and for the pain to intensify.

There isn't a day that goes by when I don't remember him, for he is the reason I am still alive.

Mom doesn't speak about it much, but I can tell, she feels guilty. Guilty for silently agreeing with my thoughts, she's ridden by guilt and keeps herself busy, but I can't say I blame her. No, she's right in her thinking after all.

It wasn't supposed to be him, it wasn't supposed to be me either. But given the choice, it should have been me.

They say, I beat myself up too much, I couldn't have helped it, no one could've.

People say, they understand, do they really? They have had similar experiences, but just like a similar experience, ain't the same as the same one, I feel no one truly understands the other's wound.

Just like I don't understand theirs, they don't understand mine, and so I don't pretend to.

The past I helped save...

Save. By doing what, running away in a machine, so that Goku and father could do all the heavy lifting?

Then, they call me a hero...

Hell, I did not even create the machine or the anecdote, I was just the messenger for things to correct their path and that's it.

I believe my father...my father from the past realizes that, and that is why he's so hard on me. Despite that, I recognize the pride reflected in his eyes for me, but I feel it isn't earned.

Hypocrite, yeah that’s the word, I've been called that many a times.

I sound like one at times, and maybe...I know its true.

I want to make him proud of me, and he is, despite his cold and stoic outward attitude, but...my guilt and pain does not let me cherish it.

I feel like a criminal, living off of someone else's share of life...

Even mini me, he called me a wuss once. He was right. Even as young as he was then, he could fight me and make me come to my senses.

How reminiscent of our father...

He is me, but looking at him its like looking into a warped mirror. He's so sure of himself, the sharpness in his eyes, his smile, his voice is so unlike mine...yeah, I mean he's younger than me, but he's so...free!

Everything about him is lighter, yet accompanied by an unmistakable cockiness, no doubt the influence of father.

Would I have had that demeanor, that posture, had my father been around?

My father from the past has been a big influence on me, but he's still not my father, just like I'm his son, but at the same time I'm not.

Would my father have loved me?

Did he think about me in his final moments?

Did he think about Mom?

My father in the past, undoubtedly loves my mother, his wife, but I know it is the result of her and Goku's influence on him over the years.

My father was a completely different story. Had he survived, would he have been the same person, even in the absence of Goku from his life?

Mom loved my father, but her constant curiosity about the past made me believe that she was in love again, and this time even more intensely.

She loves a dead man and a man she can't have. But she's given up her life to inventions and restoring our destroyed home, contenting herself with mere stories, memories through my eyes.

Why ain't she called a hero?

That makes me think...

Boundless, freeing, devoid of constraints, that's what time travel is supposed to be right?

But why does it feel so...heavy?  

I mean, who do I really know?

The same people, the same places, yet so very different!

I don't know how old am I, am I a cool teenager from the future or a broken kid of the present?

A hero, a fond memory, but is that where the happiness ends?

Are the people I just met, still alive? Is Mom alive?

The void between dimensions, it is a lonely place, it makes you think a lot...

Do I truly belong to anyone?

"Trunks?"

"Yes, my Love?"

"You are an idiot."

"I-"

"No. I don't think I need to flash you your own memories to understand what you've achieved?"

"No..."

"So, why are you being the biggest idiot in the world and asking yourself stupid questions? You belong to me, and I to you, its that simple. Am I clear enough?"

"Yes, of course my mate."

"...Trunks"

"Okay, okay don't sit up, sleep, I'll quit it, we have a busy day tomorrow, you need your rest."

"Exactly and so do you, we are in this together remember? One day at a time, I listen to you, so you gotta listen to me too! Its only fair!"

"Fine you made your point, now please rest your back my dear, you've worked very hard today."

"Okay, so hug me back to sleep."

"You never have to ask."

Yes, my mate, my love is who I belong to.

My war survivor, my very own Goten. He had never met the Mirai of his timeline, and yet still, he comes to accept me and love me wholeheartedly, unconditionally!

Love comes naturally to him, he's cried for days on end for people he's only known through my memories, that is my Goten.

I'll become his hero, just like he is mine. He's incredibly strong, but we protect each other.

Life doesn't give you second chances very often, and when it does, you protect it with your life, I promise I'll be there for him. I'll be there to protect him from everything...I promise you Gohan!