#then the second method was better but i was scared to take off very much

[httpscomexe]

is chapter 4 of runaway will be coming out soon? just genuinely asking, take your time don't feel rushed!!! i absolutely adore your fics 😍😍

Runaway 4

Summary: Xavier takes others over you, leaving you with Logan's worst nightmare. Staying with Wade Wilson.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Hybrid!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, forced drinking, sexual jokes, fourth wall breaking. (Individual warnings per chapter) This will most likely be a non-con fic.

Word Count: 4155 (Find all chapters here) CH5

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

It becomes sort of a routine with Logan.

Wake up, let him brush your hair, let him choose your clothes, study, eat dinner, let him brush your hair, sleep, and then repeat. Occasionally, he would have days where he was busy, and you knew better than to try finding Wade. Since he’d taken your phone as a punishment, you hadn’t been able to contact anyone else either. But you didn’t think much of it.

And right now, it was morning. The sun was shining through his open curtains, light shining onto your thighs as you sat on the floor, Logan sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed as he brushed through your hair, his fingers occasionally stroking over your ears.

“Okay, what does this word mean?” You held up the book you were reading, and you pointed at a word on the second page.

“Do you know how to say it…?” He asks you, still brushing through your hair, you weren’t sure why he still was, since there weren't any tangles left.

“Sub…Lim…” You try pronouncing the word, stuttering a little. “Inal?”

“Good, now say it all together.” He asks, taking a tie off his wrist to pull your hair up into a ponytail, but he changes his name and continues to brush it.

“Subliminal? What does that mean?”

“Read the sentence, try to figure it out…” He tells you, sectioning your hair now to part it into box braids.

“It says ‘As is typical with this method, no part… particip…ant… participant reported being aware of the sub…liminal faces.’” You struggle a little, and hear him chuckle behind you.

“Good, what do you think it means?”

“Well…” You think about it, trying to remember what Xavier had taught you about root words, and just as you’re about to explain your thought process, there’s a knock at the door, making your ear twitch slightly to the sound. “Ow…” You move your head away, the pointy end of the brush he was using the part of your hair pokes the sensitive skin of your ear.

“Shit… sorry… are you okay?” He quickly gets down to his knees, and his hand fans over your large ear, and there's another knock at the door, the person behind it getting impatient.

“I’m okay Lo, go see who’s at the door.” You gently nudge his hand away, and you watch as he sighs and stands up to open the door, leaving you to gently rub your ear. You weren’t sure why they were so sensitive, but you were sure it was because you weren’t grown in your deer form yet. You’ve only spent a few hours in that form in total in your many years of being alive, so of course, it wasn’t very… developed.

“Jean?” You can’t see too well from your position on the floor, the bed being in your way.

“Hey, I wanted to talk about something, is Bambi here?” You stay quiet.

“No, she’s out with a friend.” He clears his throat, and you understand what to do, you crawl to the other side of the bed so you wouldn’t be visible to Jean.

“Can I come in?” You hear Logan step inside, then lighter footsteps until Jean is sitting on the edge of the bed.

“So Xavier told me…” You hear the bed move a bit more, and assume Logan sat down next to her. “Having her here is too risky.”

“Too… risky?”

“Yes… Considering she’s a hybrid and all.” You hear her sigh. “Obviously, people are searching for those. And if anyone finds out that she’s here… Well… Then we’re compromising the safety of everyone in the mansion.”

“So what? He wants to just throw her out?”

“No, he will provide her with a home and clothes to hide her-”

“It’s not happening.”

“It’s not up to you, Logan.” By this time, your ears were already pinned down to the back of your head, and if you weren’t sitting on your ass, your tail would be between your legs.

“She will die…”

“She’s survived all this time alone already. What difference would there be?”

“Yea she’s survived!” He half shouts and half whispers. “She’s survived because they catch her and hold her like a fucking animal.”

“Logan, why are you whispering? We’re alone.” There’s silence for a few seconds, then a sigh comes from Jean. “Bambi, you can come out.” Your ear perks up slightly, but you don’t move, she wasn’t in control of you.

“Bambi honey, come on out.” You stand to Logan's demand, slowly before crawling onto the bed, sitting near Logan.

“Hey… Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You tell her, but your ears are still down.

“It’s just… If they find you here, it’s putting everyone else at risk, and Xavier would… Well he’d rather lose 1 hybrid than lose hundreds of mutants.”

“I understand.” You whisper, but your eyes meet Logans.

“When does Xavier want her gone?” Logan's voice comes out gruff.

“As soon as possible. He was hoping this afternoon.”

“And why isn’t he the one telling me this? Why did he send you?” She’s quiet again apart from a sigh. “God he’s a fucking pussy.” His head turns towards you. “There’s a duffle bag in the closet, start throwing our clothes in it Bambi.” He stands up, and Jean stands up with him, a stunned look on her face with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry… Our?” She watches as you disappear into the closet, and her jaw goes slack as Logan follows behind you. “No, no. Logan, you can’t leave.”

“Says who?”

“Says me, Logan. We need you on missions.” She stands at the opening of the closet, and you ignore their conversation, deciding it doesn’t have to do with you.

“You guys will do just fine without me.” He says, reaching over your head to grab a heavy jacket. “Here hun, carry this one. It’s cold outside.”

“Logan-” She grabs his arm, and tries to pull on him. “You can’t-”

“No.” His tone changes completely, from just simple annoyance to straight anger and frustration. He clearly wasn’t happy about Xaviers negligence, and the last thing he needed was the stubborn red head pulling on his arm and telling him he can’t. “I am not leaving her out alone in fucking New York to be kidnapped by another fucking gang.” He pulls his arm away from her and he points in her face. “If you guys need my help so fucking bad, then you better talk to Xavier and figure out a way she can stay here.”

“Logan, there are hundreds of lives on the line, you could at LEAST do the logical thing.”

“The logical thing?” His voice gets louder, and you take a small step away but continue folding clothes and stuffing them into the duffle bag. “I lost my entire fucking family and everyone I knew in my fucking universe, and Bambi is the closest thing I have to family here.”

“The closest thing you have to a family? Logan you fight beside us in missions that could end up with the entire state exploded to dust and what? We’re not your family?”

“No, you’re not. The Jean that was my family is fucking dead, the Xavier that was my family, guess what? He’s fucking dead…” You glance over from the corner of your eye to see Logan take a progressive step towards him with each name. “Ororo, Hank, Scott, everyone that was my fucking family is dead. So excuse me if I don’t want to see a walking fucking corpse every last waking second of my life, and be reminded of my fuck up, everytime I see you motherfuckers…” Jean was now packed into a corner, Logan's face barely inches away from hers, and you can see the way her jaw is clenching. “So don’t you fucking dare tell me what I can, and can not do. I have no connection to you, and will have no fucking problem sending three fucking blades down the centre of your throat.” She doesn’t say anything, only swallowing her spit before her eyes move to yours, still in the closet and frozen in the middle of folding a pair of Logan's jeans before you had become invested in their argument.

You’ve never seen Logan so pissed.

“Fine… Leave.” She looks back up at Logan. “Have the lives of a couple more hundred people in your hands because you left, again.” Shit… You watch as his claws slowly extract from his hands, and you put the jeans down, slowly approaching in case Jean becomes a target.

“You better take that back…” They stare at each other for a long moment. Only the sound of the fan above spinning and the heavy breathing from Logan could be heard through the room.

“Make. Me.” Logan.

“Oh…” He chuckles. Logan…! “Now you’ve done it…” Logan!

“Logan!” Your voice comes out small, and his head twitches a little as he looks over his shoulder. He looks as if he had forgotten you were there. “Can we leave… Please?” You glance down as his claws are hidden back beneath his skin, and it heals over quickly.

“Right…” He growls a little, and backs away from Jean after one last look. “Are you ready then?” He asks, ignoring Jean now as he goes into the closet and lifts the duffle bag, tossing in the last pair of jeans before zipping it up.

“Yes I’m ready…” You stand in the centre of the room awkwardly. “I guess…” You mumble, and Logan sways his hand in front of him, signalling for you to move ahead of him as he grabs his keys, and you’re out of the door quickly, leaving Jean alone in the room, and his arm slides behind your back to walk next to you.

You were sitting in the passenger seat, watching in the mirror as Logan tossed the bag in the back, slamming the door and making the truck shake a little before getting behind the wheel and starting the engine.

“So where are we going?” He sighs, thinking of an answer to the question with one hand on the wheel as he stares at nothing. Then he reaches into his back pocket, and takes out his phone, handing it to you. “Call Wade.” You take the phone. “Act happy or whatever, and ask if he has space for both you and me…” He growls a little again, looking out his window as you find Wade’s name in his contacts, and you ring it.

“Peanut? And I thought you deleted my number.” The sound of Wade's voice alone was enough to make you smile.

“No, it's me.” You chuckle a little, expecting him to recognise your voice.

“Oh, darling. Bambi, you’re using Logans’ phone. Everything okay?”

“Yes. Everything is fine. But he and I were wondering if you had space for both him and me?”

“They’re kicking him out already?”

“No, they’re kicking me out actually.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. I have the couch, and I have an air mattress that I let Logan sleep on before he left me for one-eye. You guys can obviously stay here.” Logan sighs, but he starts the engine and speaks up.

“Still living under that bridge with Althea?” He asks gruffly.

“Of course, I wouldn't want to leave this humble abode. But peanut?” Logan grunts. “Do you mind picking up dinner? I’ll pay you back. We just need pizza.”

“Sure. What kind?” He turns over his shoulder and begins backing out.

“Hawaiian, no ham. And then just normal cheese.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks pea-” Logan reaches over and hangs up before putting the truck back in forward and he drives out of the parking lot, leaving the mansion behind.

“Can we also get some brownies?” You ask, putting the phone on the centre console.

“Of course, Bambi.”

“Oh, my two most favourite things ever are here!” Wades’ voice is joyful as both you and Logan walk inside of his little home, the smell of sweat and dog smacking you in the face.

“Male strippers and cocaine?” Another voice comes from a different room.

“Bambi and pizza!” He hugs you, and Logan grunts from behind. “Male strippers is my third favourite, silly.” He calls back, letting go of you and taking the pizza boxes from your hand.

“Hey Bam, how about you go shower, the bathrooms back there.” He points to the room where the other voice came from. Just another person comes out, wearing glasses and with a white afro and walking cane in one hand.

“Who the hell gives birth and names their kid ‘bam?’” She says, feeling around a little for the couch and mumbling something along the lines of ‘why does Wade keep moving the fucking couch.’ “That’s a stupid-”

“Her name is actually Bambi.”

“That’s a little better.” Just a few sentences in conversation between Wade and Althea, and you could tell just how close they really were besides their constant bantering. “Wait, her?”

“I know right? Logan managed to pick up a little girl.” Wade says giddily, placing the pizza boxes on the table and opening them all before taking two cheese, a pineapple, and three brownies.

“Oh then it’s not as surprising, I thought she was your girl.”

“Look, Wade and I need to have a talk.” Logan says suddenly, gently grabbing your arm to get you to look at him. “How about you go take that shower, okay?” You nod, and take some clothes from the duffle bag he's set on the floor.

“I promise the bathroom is the cleanest place in this house.” Wade tells you as you walk by, grabbing a brownie as you pass him. 

“Just ignore Wade's toys, he uses them when Vanessa is around.” Vanessa? “Or whenever Gossip Girls is playing… Wish I was deaf.”

You walk into the bathroom, the sound of Logan's voice disappearing as you close the door, and your eyes immediately land on the large dildo sticking to the wall, which you try your hardest to ignore and not laugh at as you turn on the faucet and remove your clothes.

With the time that you’re in the shower, Logan takes his time explaining to Wade why they need a place to stay for a while, at least until they find another place.

“God they are such pieces of shit. Like I get where they’re coming from with saving hundreds or saving one, but there’s also like either you save one hundred chickens or you save one unicorn. One’s just more important. You don’t find any mammal hybrids anymore.”

“Exactly, but also Jean got pissed off at me because I told her I’m leaving. Apparently I’m so important and they can’t win without me.” He takes a large sip from his beer, an understatement when half the bottle disappears down his throat.

“I mean they’ve survived and fought so long without this world's Logan before…” Wade tells him, snatching another cheese pizza.

“Look, if I ever end up having to leave…” He sighs, regretting his next words. “Just promise to take care of Bambi. Other than you, she’s all I have left.”

“Wow, talking about me like my life doesn’t matter.” He chuckles, shoving the cheesy bread into his mouth, getting the red sauce on his lips.

“Well you can’t die, she can.”

“Now, now. I was joking, Peanut.” Logan grunts at the use of the nickname.

“What’s this girl's real name anyways?” Althea asks, using a nail fail on her nails, not even realising how incredibly crooked they were becoming.

“No idea, I’ve been calling her Bambi cause… Well, she’s a deer hybrid.”

“Ah, ah. She’s a fawn hybrid.”

“Fawn isn’t a fucking species, it’s an age.”

“Yes, but she’s not a deer.”

“Pretty sure she’s full grown.”

“Maybe in her human form. But she hasn’t spent nearly enough time in her deer form to call herself a deer.”

“What are you talking about…?”

“Look at it this way, if she spent the majority of her life in her deer form, then she’d be a full grown deer, and whenever she turned into her human form, she’d be a toddler. Right now, she’s a toddler in her deer form, AKA, a fawn.” He pauses and looks away from Logan, eyes landing on Althea. “Al honey, if you keep doing that to your nails, they’ll be sharp enough to give someone a Prince Albert piercing.” He looks away from Althea and at a wall. “Readers, I don’t suggest looking that up.”

“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Logan growls, and he can hear the sound of the shower being turned off.

“He does that sometimes, you learn to ignore it.”

“Maybe you do, but you’re blind. He literally just stared at the fucking wall and spoke to dust.”

“Like I said, you get used to it.”

As you get out of the shower and dry yourself, some sort of talk about walls and dust quickly changes into how Wade is a psychopath. Throughout your entire shower, you were thinking about where you’d be sleeping. Of course, knowing Logan, he’d let you choose between either the air mattress or the couch. The problem is, you didn’t know what’s been done on either of them. You knew Wade pretty well, and judging by the dildo still suctioned onto the wall, he didn’t really care who knew about what he did, and he didn’t mind where he did it. So you were sure there would be stains on either one.

“There she is.” Wade automatically silences the conversation as you walk out of the bedroom and back into the living room wearing only your favourite white lace panties and one of Logans’ hoodies, which looked oversized on your smaller body.

“Want the couch or the air mattress Bambi?” There it is. You still had the towel in your hands, and you were drying your hair as you sat next to him on the couch.

“Yea I had a question for you about that.”

“What’s up?”

“Is the couch even…” You look at Wade. “Clean?” You ask it in the nicest way you can, and the sight of Althea suddenly breaking out in laughter seems to stun Wade.

“Careful now, don’t want to have a stroke.”

“Oh fuck you.” She stops laughing and looks in your general direction. “Want my honest input.” You nod, but then remember she’s blind.

“Yes, please.”

“Sleep on the floor.” She tells you, then stands up with her walking cane, and heads towards her room, closing the door behind her.

“Logan, where would you rather sleep?” You expect him not to answer, and to just tell you that where he sleeps is based on your answer.

“I’d prefer the couch, an air mattress is like sleeping on a damn rock.”

“Can I just… Can I just sleep on you?”

“Oh. My. God. You better say yes, she’s offering to sleep with you.” Wade stands up from the couch, stretching in place before heading to Althea's room. They sleep together?

“Wade, we sleep together all the time.” Logan sighs.

“It was supposed to be a sex joke, Sheldon Cooper.”

“Who…?”

“Ignore it…” Logan holds his hand out, preventing you from saying anything else.

“Goodnight, Peanut. Goodnight, Bambi!” He calls from the room before closing the door, and you can hear the sound of him throwing his jeans down on the floor before the bed in the room creaks under his weight.

“So…”

“What do you mean sleep on me?” Logan asks, interrupting you.

“I mean like… You sleep on the couch, and I sleep on your body. Like you’re my bed.” He stares at you for a moment, as if deciphering your request.

“Yea… Yea, we can do that, that’s okay.” He groans as he stands up, tossing his beer bottle in a pile of more bottles, some broken from previous other bottles being tossed on them.

“I’m gonna eat first though, does Wade have anything to drink?” You ask, standing up as well, and skipping a little to his fridge.

“Ugh… I know he has beer.” He tells you, opening another closet and pulling out a few blankets as you open the fridge and search for something other than alcohol. You simply will not touch it.

“Gross… Is the sink water-”

“Don’t even think about drinking the sink water.”

“What does he give her?” You point down at the slobbery looking dog that’s been snoring this entire time, kicking her legs in her sleep.

“Probably his own saliva.” He tells you, and it almost sounded serious as he covers the couch in clean blankets. “Did you bring your hairbrush?” You nod, walking back over to the couch. “The beer?” He quirks his eyebrow, reaching down to find the hairbrush in the duffle bag.

“Beer is gross.”

“Grab me one then.” You turn back around, opening the fridge again to grab a beer for him. “Sit here.” He points to the couch, and you sit exactly where he’s pointing, and he sits behind you on the back of the couch as you’re seated between his legs.

“Thank you baby.” He takes the beer from your hands, and removes the few braids he was able to get in from that morning and afterwards he pops the beer open.

“How does your ear feel?” He asks once they’re all out, gently touching your ear with his fingers and stroking the fur gently, causing you to purr quietly.

“It’s fine, it was just a poke.”

“Good, I didn’t mean to hurt you Bambi…”

“I know, it was my fault. I moved.” He doesn’t say anything back, instead, he grabs the hairbrush and begins to gently brush through your hair, and again, as always, he’s careful to avoid your ears, using his hands to gently pull threads of your hair off the fur.

“Are you sure you don’t want the couch to yourself?”

“Logan, you know I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“I know, Bamb. Just trying to make conversation.” He tells you, and you reach forward, him gently letting go of your hair so he doesn’t pull it as you grab two cheese pizzas, the pineapple box completely empty.

“You have to drink something.” He continues brushing your hair, occasionally taking a sip of his beer as he focuses on brushing.

“I know, but beer is gross… We can always go out and get apple juice in the morning?” You suggest, and he sighs behind you.

“You haven’t drank anything all day.” He tells you, and you look up and over your shoulder at him as he sets the brush aside and puts more of the liquid in his mouth, you watch as his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.

“I’ll be alright.” You tell him as he stares down at you, and his right hand finds your chin as he lifts your face up slightly. Then he presses a single kiss to the corner of your lips, pulling back for a moment to take another swig of his beer, and his lips find yours fully now. His fingers squeeze your jaw carefully, but enough to force your own lips open, and he spits the alcohol into your mouth, making you involuntarily pull away but he keeps you still, replacing his mouth with his hand and covering your nose as well so you’re forced to drink the foul liquid.

“Now we either do that about five more times, or you drink the rest yourself.” He tells you, holding the half-filled bottle up to your eye level.

“Fine…” You groan, taking the bottle and sipping from it as he watches you.

“Good girl…” Your tail begins to wag on its own again at his praise and he removes his shirt before lying down on the couch with only a lamp on a small table next to the couch to illuminate a small portion of the room.

“Do I have to drink it all?”

“Just half is okay.” He tells you, and you close your nose before downing half of what he’s given you, hacking a little at the taste.

“Done.” You hold out the bottle to him, and he takes it, swallowing the rest before tossing the bottle towards the rest as before.

“Alright, lie down…” He pats his stomach a little, and you quickly crawl on top of him, taking a soft blanket from the side with you.

“So… since we’re living with Wade now…”

“You don’t have to ignore him…” He answers your question before you even finish asking it, and he shuts off the light behind him, casting the room in darkness, barely seconds later you feel his hand on your head as he gently scratches that spot behind your ear, making you purr.

You were relieved you wouldn’t have to ignore Wade, considering you’d be living with them for who knows how long.

“Just don’t ever sleep with him when I’m not here.”

Tags: @shybluebirdninja @atomicheartbroken @hazydespair

[creaturebehavior]

trimmed my hair again

added more layers and again, it looks better than it did last time

[autismcatboy]

i hear the sunspot is a story about being human first, disabled second and a bl third. it doesnt flow like a bl and has very brief moments of romance because its not intended to be read/watched a romance.

the mangaka did not write it as a BL because she herself wasnt even familiar with it as a genre until after she started publishing. she was writing a story that just happens to also feature queer romance.

the live drama is not going to end with them getting together. its an adaption of just one series within the story and even at the most current series, they only barely got together.

the story is not unrealistic in how it handles communication (or lack thereof). its a lot easier to judge characters (and people in real life) when you think you have all the pieces, but the reality is we know very little about how others truly feel and when you have a lot going on and pulling you in different directions, its hard to know it yourself.

continued below the cut, spoiler free.

taichi and kohei are busy adults. between work/school, family and personal health, they dont have a lot of free time. many people dont have ways to contact friends they made in school because usually, you just see each other and dont think about exchanging contact information until later.

exchanging contact information is a bigger step to take in japan compared to places like the us. taichi uses a flip phone until hes pushed to get a smartphone after it breaks. data plans are expensive and many are selective about when and how they use them, and chatting apps like line are usually the main form of communication method. many people in the us dont like to give out their number or social media (which is also a feature of line) to people they know, like coworkers or classmates.

theres some pretty big assumptions about japanese culture and what its like to be a young adult by fans watching the drama that, in my opinion, just arent realistic. you're thinking like a bl fan and not like what people actually do in real life.

i hear the sunspot is a story about navigating the awkward, the hardships, fumbling and coming to terms with the things we may not like about ourselves. this isnt just about being disabled. able bodied, fully healthy people have things they dont like, push off and ignore. we see this in taichi, and how he continues to push that hes happy, nothing is wrong, he's just a big goofball and doesn't have anything below the surface and a lot of you have fallen for it.

relationships rarely go "we met, we fell in love, and now we are together and everything is perfect with only mild and entertaining drama." in fact id say they almost never do. people get scared to get close to other people, people dont think about if their feelings are romantic love or not when theyve never considered they might be gay. people get busy and distract themselves from addressing the things theyre not ready to look at and understand. all of these things happen much more often and often subconsciously, too.

people are mean and bullheaded when they feel like their comfort zone is threatened. people *run* when they feel like their status quo might change and they dont know what that will look like.

its easy to say someone is being ridiculous when you dont have their full story or dont stop to consider their circumstances. will it be different from how you'd react? absolutely. you lived a different life and had different experiences shape who you are.

but its equally as ridiculous to assume you know exactly how you'd react better than someone in their situation. no one is perfect, and definitely not 20 something year olds figuring out how to be adults after tough moments completely changed their childhoods. your early 20s, especially, is about thinking youre an adult and realizing just how little you know about adulthood. its easy to look back on when i was taichi and kohei's ages and say "oh there is a /lot/ that i fucked up with and couldve done better".

i hear the sunspot is about being human. the mistakes, the drama, the pain and the laughter. it happens to also have a gay love story but its not written to *be* a gay love story or even to be any love story in the first place.

if youre not willing to wait, and consider all the troubles that come before and during their relationship, this is not the story for you. save yourself the time, its got a long way to go. maybe come back in a few more years and see if the story resonates differently.

theyre not going to dive right into a relationship when they still barely know themselves.

[kangals]

i think the main difference in personality so far between puppy-stellina and puppy-kepler is that kep has a lot more patience.

that brings a lot of positive qualities: he has better emotional control and is less prone to tantrums and outbursts than stellina was (i.e. if i have to stop for 10 seconds on a walk to pick up poo, stellina would yelp and pull and cry at being asked to stop). it also means he has better focus and is more forgiving of repetition in training - he doesn't give up nearly as easily when frustrated. and things that may startle or scare him he's more willing to try again or overcome (e.g. he slipped on my stairs and hurt his foot and didn't want to go back up the stairs for a few days, but eventually started trying again. and when butters slaps him he yelps and backs off, but still thinks she's Super Fun and tries to make friends). so he's a bit more methodical in his thinking.

but it does also bring some negatives too: because he has patience, he does not give up once he's decided something. if stellina was overtired and i put her in a crate, she'd fuss for a minute then pretty quickly go "hm alright then" and go to sleep. if i do the same to kep, he fights it and fights it because he doesn't want to be asleep and that's that. he's much more difficult to redirect or distract, and i have to be a lot more mindful of managing him because once he's decided something is fun or tasty or whatever it takes a lot to dissuade him, and he'll go back to it at the first chance. he's very slow to learn boundaries as a result - i have to do a lot more convincing than i'm used to.

they are still overall very similar personalities, especially as they're the same breed and from very similar lines, but i think so far this has been the biggest quality that i've needed to adjust to. puppy-stellina i had to do a lot of mental adjustments learning how to manage her short emotional threshold and sensitivity, so it's interesting to see what does and doesn't translate over to kep.

[novashelby]

I'm Not Your Wife, I'm Your Daughter Part II-A Tommy Shelby x daughter!OC Angst FT. Jack Nelson

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Daughter!OC Feat. Jack Nelson

Warning: MDNI. 18+. Mention of murder, death, mention of child abuse, sex abuse, prostitution, emotional abuse, mental abuse.

Word Count: 3,518

Summary: After Evelyn attempts to leave the hospital to go home, one of her father's enemies decides to have a little chat with her. He proposes quite an awful deal in order to build his assets.

Please, if you read it and enjoy it, leave a comment and reblog. It would be so kind of you. I also respond to all comments. It is the best way to build community.

*I am sorry if I got Jack's character wrong. It is my first time writing him.

To her dismay, he was amused, taking slow steps back to her. Tilting his head in morbid curiosity, “and how would you do that? Chop her head off, I mean.” Evie coward in his presence. A short man, but he knew how to make an appearance. He loomed over her, hand resuming his position on her flushed, hot cheek. “Hm? There’s many methods of decapitating heads, but I don’t think my good girl is familiar with many of them-”

“You’re be fucking cynical-”

“Language,” he scolded, but tone even. Low and calm. He was the worst when calm. Though never striking her with his hand, he often had a way of punishing her with his words. The twenty-four year old woman felt small. Once again, pressed against the wooden door frame. The smell of death from the corridor seeping up her nose. His hand cupped her cheek, massaging it. “I’ve taught you better than that, love.”

Despite it all, she leaned into his affection, sighing at how easy it was for her to give into him. “I’m tired. I’m tired of it all, Daddy, and I don’t know how much longer I can be strong for everyone.”

He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. “I know…I know. I know you’re angry. And though I am defensive to all, I understand why you’re angry, but conventional life isn’t suited for an unconventional family, Evelyn. You need to understand that.” He paused, opening his eyes on an exhale. His hand moved gently from her cheek to under her chin, making her look at him. “I did my best with what I had. All I ever wanted was for us to be happy, and perhaps, in some ways I’ve failed you in that regard. But in the great big picture, look at what we have. Everyone wanted for everything, and I got it.”

“I didn’t want everything,” she said, fluttering her eyes open. It was all too much. Being there with Ruby’s dead body just down the corridor. He should have found Lizzie by that moment. Hold her, comfort her, wipe her tears. But there he stood, more upset and scared about losing Evelyn. It made her sick, a bit. That pressure and emotional burden of being her father’s favorite everything. “You should go find her…she needs you, daddy.”

His response was merely a hum. “Hm.” Evelyn couldn’t make it out. Was it an agreement? Or dismissal?

She pressed further. “I’ll miss her-”

“Yeah,” he said, offhandedly, still soaking up his daughter’s presence. “Yeah, me too.” Tommy wrapped his arms around her, feeling a bit of him fall apart when she hesitated. Flashbacks of her running in his arms warmed his heart. The only nostalgia he could hold onto. After a moment, he whispered in thought, “after it’s all done, we’ll leave.”

Evelyn nodded, pulling away, rubbing her eyes in sleep. It was nearly three in the morning at that point. Her father and her shared a very distorted idea of what healthy sleep was, among other things. “Well, you need to find Lizzie first and-”

“No,” he said, stopping her. “When we bury….” Tommy had to stop himself and think about what he was about to say, not truly believing his words. He’d hope that no one mistook his actions because he loved his youngest as he did his second. Just not nowhere near his first. He looked over at Evelyn. It was the only right thing to do. Leave. “When we bury Ruby, you and I will leave-”

“Daddy,” she groaned, closing her eyes in frustration. Had he not listened to anything she said? I’m not your fucking wife! She took a belly deep sigh, holding it as she rubbed her temples. On the exhale, she looked at him. “And leave where? You still have a wife…a son-”

“The ties are broken,” he said. “After this, there’s nothing left holding any of us together, but you and I…we can still be held together.” He reached for her delicate hand, studying the chipped manicure. “We’ll go on the caravan-”

She pulled her hand away, scoffing. “Daddy, I don’t want to go on the caravan! Don’t you understand? Any of it? I’m twenty-four years old-”

“But you love the caravan,” he argued, still seeing the little girl under it all.

“When I was eight, daddy, and everything was new,” she explained. “And when Finn was there and John and Aunty. When we’d play in the fields and looked at the stars, that’s when I liked the caravan.” Evelyn shook her head. “Daddy, what are you and I going to do in the caravan, huh? I’m twenty-four years old. I can’t possibly live with my father in a caravan!”

“But it’d be good-”

“For you?” she asked, knitting her brows. “For me? Where will I sleep? For you? I can’t give you everything you need. It isn’t normal.” Part of him knew she was right, but the other half argued. She could give him everything he needed emotionally. They already were so close all the time, that he hadn’t thought anything wrong with sleeping on the wooden floor next to the one hay filled bed. Partially because he wanted to convince himself it was alright. 

He gave a nod of understanding. “Right, well,” he sighed, massaging his forehead. “Why don’t you go home and when it’s all done, we’ll talk everything over.” She nodded and he opened his arms. “C’mere, love.” Evelyn looked at his widened arms and offered a small smile before walking over, sinking into his body. Tommy held her so tight, hands rubbing her back affectionately. “I don’t believe in God, really, but if I did….” He pulled away, cupping her face with both hands, smiling softly. “I would ask him what I ever did to deserve such a wonderful little girl.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the nose. “Out of everything in my life, you were the only good decision.”

She smiled and nodded, pulling away as she straightened her bag. “I’ll meet Isaiah out front. “ When she turned, Lizzie was standing there. Her whole being was pale as a ghost. It seemed as though she cried a lifetime and couldn’t spare another second to it. Evelyn was better at words than most Shelbys. “I’m going home, I’ll prepare home for the wake.” For you don’t have to, was her reasoning, but really, she couldn’t stand still. She walked towards the door, pausing under the threshold, placing her arm on Lizzie’s shoulder. “It’s awful. It’s really awful.” The older woman couldn’t say anything. When Evelyn left, Lizzie looked at Tommy with a hollow expression. Many thoughts came rushing in. Everyone said it. Tommy Shelby would never be able to love you as long as she was there. Perhaps Grace was better at setting boundaries than she. 

Lizzie walked in and took a seat, cigarette between her fingers. “Where were you?”

Tommy joined her side, taking the cigarette from her and puffing it himself. He looked over at her. “I don’t have an excuse-”

“I had to give her your kiss goodbye,” she said, drained, no emotion left. “Telling her that her father loves her just before I walk in here and I-”

“Let’s bring this home, eh?” he asked, pulling her in for his once a year affection. “Let’s grieve.”

Evie went for the main entrance where she could see the black car. Isaiah had been waiting. She didn’t know for how long, but it was definitely long enough he turned the car off. She smiled, reaching for the handle when an arm slipped between her and the door. Before she looked at the man, she studied his pressed blue suit, decorated with gold cufflinks. Her eyes traveled up his arm to his face, swallowing. She wasn’t one to involve herself with her father’s business, preferring to be distant enough, clueless enough, and safe enough. A handsome gentleman looked down at her, slight grin. She was familiar with his face, but hardly cared enough to learn a name. Probably ignorant of her seeing as though it was Gina’s uncle, famous Irish-American gangster Jack Nelson. Like Tommy Shelby, people knew him. 

“Your father doesn’t give many opportunities for one to seek you alone, Miss. Shelby.” Evelyn flinched away, eying her one escape route. A lone stairwell that led back up to the main hospital area. Where her father was, probably with a gun by his side. She could also scream in hopes Isaiah would hear her. But he was a step ahead, cupping her chin and making her look at him. That smile was like a personal signature to him. “There’s no need. I thought perhaps we could take a ride, you and I-”

“Who are you?” she asked, connecting eyes, and he was nothing short of amused, introducing himself like a gentleman, hiding any evil motive. “Well, Mr. Nelson, I’m simply my father’s daughter and quite frankly, want no business with his friends. Now, if you may excuse me, I’d like to go home. It’s been an awful-”

“I’ve heard,” he interrupted, slipping his hand down to her arm. There was something sickly sweet about the way he was empathetically massaging her arm. “It’s so awful, isn’t it? Young and all.” Evelyn couldn’t remember the last time a man other than her father touched her. Though an unassuming gesture, she felt flushed by the touch. Almost like a little school girl. Jack could read her bashful expression; how her cheeks turned some shade of pink, how she averted her attention, how she acted like a small girl. He thought for a Shelby, she’d have a bit more edge. But over the years, her edge smoothened.

“Thank you, Mr. Nelson-”

“You’re very polite,” he complimented. “If you don’t mind, Miss. Shelby, can we go to my car? I’d like to have a chat with little risk of interruption-ah,” he hummed, noticing the fear in her eyes. “There is a side exit just under the stairwell…and there is no need to fear, if I wanted to kidnap you or kill you, it would have been done. Now, let’s not be silly.” She couldn’t tell you what possessed her. Was it his cool exterior? His calm voice? The gentle manner in which he touched her? But she gave one last look to the car waiting out front before following Jack Nelson to the side exit. 

He wasn’t driving his car. It was an older gentleman who only said a few words when opening the door for them. As the gentleman he was, he motioned for Evelyn to go in first. Hesitantly, she looked at him before sliding across the leather seats. He joined her side. He allowed the driver to start the car and go on their way. “Just towards my home. Is that alright?” He turned to Evelyn. “It’s a little bit of a ride, but perhaps you and I will get to know each other quite well during this time. Bond a bit seeing as though we both wear Boston routes.”

“Do you live here?” she asked, trying to feel out the situation. Her hand kept a steady grip on the door handle.

“Not usually,” he said, eying her hand before reaching over her and prying it off. “No need for that. I’d hate for you to jump out of a moving car and hurt yourself. What if you get a scratch on that pretty face, hm?” He chuckled, pulling her in towards the middle. “In fact, let’s sit closer-”

“Mr. Nelson-”

“Shhh,” he hushed her. 

She sighed, uncomfortably close to him. He propped one of her legs over his while one of his arms was snaked along her waist. His other hand rested on his knee. He sat relaxed, legs spread. He got so comfortable, he loosened his collar on his shirt. She swallowed the lump down and stiffly asked, “what is it exactly you want? My sister just died and I really just want to go home-”

“Mourning is an awful process, isn’t it, Miss. Shelby?” he asked, looking at her. “But it’s a process that will take a lifetime. While this chat will only take a sliver of your time.”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of annoyance. “If there is something you want, Mr. Nelson, I can’t give it to you. My father has kept me sheltered from his business. I have no access to money. I have no access to assets. I have no access to people. I’m as useless as-”

“Your grandfather was an anthropologist-archeologist,” he commented. Evelyn stiffened, looking at him with a look of worry. Evelyn was so disattached to her biological family that she couldn’t remember some of their faces. She met her grandparents only a short few times when she was five and her mother was acting normal. “Quite famous, actually. Did you know he found some rather important artifacts in what was once known as Mesopotamia? Now Iraq…it’s a bit far from here-”

“I know my geography,” she said, jaw a bit tight.

He nodded. “Well, I regret to inform you, but your grandfather has passed on and well, for a very good price, your mother has so kindly sold me some interesting pieces-ah, ah, ah…you don’t like that. Me calling her your mother?” He noticed how Evelyn went pale and her breath hitched. “It’s alright,” he whispered, rubbing her arm. “Anyway, I have to say, those pieces look rather nice in my parlor. I’ve been complimented on them.” 

“What…do…you…want, Mr. Nelson?”

He chuckled, “well,  you think a woman whose whored herself for nearly thirty fucking years would have learnt to be a better business woman.” It was like a switch in Evelyn’s brain. She quickly pushed at him and lunged for the door, kicking her feet as his body. But her small, weak frame was pathetic. Jack was quick to grab her. His kindness shedded slightly as he pushed her back against the seat, holding her there with a hand around her neck. “Now, now, how impolite? To think we were getting along so fucking well!” She didn’t dare protest, his hand pressed against her life. “Now, she sold those very nice furnishings under the condition that she can see you just one last time.” Evelyn’s heart sunk to her stomach, and just as she was a child, she felt her body betray her. She got sweaty, her heart pounded. She was going to lose herself and her daddy wasn’t there to save her.

“I didn’t think you were an artifact dealer, Mr. Nelson,” she said, shaking. She wiggled under him, looking at him with pleading eyes. 

He eased his grip. “Me either, but the money is attractive. There are plenty of people willing to pay me quite a nice price for them. Now, she’s at home-ah, ah, ah. No need to panic. Shhhhhh.” He moved his hand from her throat, rubbing her cheek. “You don’t like mommy, do you, Evie?” She broke loose on the inside, and spilled on the outside as she choked on her tears. She shook as all the childhood trauma she thought she solved slowly seeped back up. “Hmmm, it’s so sad-”

“Mr. Nelson, please,” she begged, closing her eyes. Her chin twitched like a child’s. “Don’t make me-”

Jack pulled out a wrinkled black and white, yellow tinted photo. There were so very few pictures of Evelyn as a child. Tommy had a single photo. There, in Jack’s hands, was her mother’s photo of her that she kept in her handbag. “It’s so sad how someone could be so evil to a little child…Look how fucking cute you were? Wonder why you’re so adored…favorited.” She stared at the photo, observing how little Evie was smiling. Her curls were so thick then. “How she treated you-”

“I don’t think about it-”

“The abuse,” he continued. “I’d hate her, too, if I was you-”

“I feel nothing,” she said, trying to convince more than just him.

“How she’d work as you slept in the same bed.” How did he know all of this? She closed her eyes, trying to block him out, but he wouldn’t stop. “Left you with whores, for days unfed and uncleaned. Hair littered with lice…I couldn’t imagine the pain you felt, crying for a mother who never showed you an ounce of love.”

She took a deep breath, her chest tightening, wheezing. “Just stop…just please stop-”

“And that one time when you thought she bought a pretty dress for a party, but really, it wasn’t for you, was it? That pretty dress. It was green with white lace trimming.” He continued to retell her story, but Evelyn slowly started to sink into a hole of darkness, her mind swirling with memories of her childhood. Her mother was to make nice money that night. It was chicken money. Enough food for a few days. Evelyn remembered walking into a room, her mother’s hands on her back and an unfamiliar man sitting on her bed. Distinctively, she remembered the look on the man’s face…it morphed into something so evil, Evelyn swore she saw the Devil. Her mother left her alone in that room, locking the door from the outside. 

“I never worn a green dress since,” she whispered, lip trembling.

“But he saved you,” he said. “There was knock-”

“On the door, but he didn’t wait for her to answer. He walked in,” she said, continuing the story of how Tommy Shelby saved her from the Devil. Her nails dug into her skin, trying to keep herself calm. “He heard me and the man talking…I was so innocent. And he, he…he pushed my mother-”

“Into the stove,” Jack interrupted. “Your mother still has that scar on her forearm where the hot kettle burnt her-”

“He rushed into the room…my dress was slipping from my shoulders. But the world stopped when he came in. He studied the man for so long before grabbing me and covering me with his wool coat. We went home and he told Aunty Polly to watch me…that he had business to do. I remember hearing the first click of a gun…I remember seeing a gun for the first time-”

“Do you know what he did to that man?” he asked. 

“What do you want with me, Mr. Nelson. I’ve asked you and you’ve only caused me to-”

“I told you,” he corrected her. “I said, that she wants to see you-”

“And I don’t want to.”

“Right,” he nodded, handing her his red handkerchief. “Or, if you’d like, I can end her, but debts don’t pay themselves, Miss. Shelby.” Evelyn shot him a look of confusion. “Oh, like you haven’t thought about her end-”

“I’m not like that-”

“Well, then a family reunion would be very nice, wouldn’t it?” When she questioned what use he’d have of them meeting, he said, “none at all, but I do have good use of putting you in my debt. If I end her, whether or not you agree to it, I’ll put you on my books. And there is only one way to remove yourself.” He positioned her once again half on his lap, helping her clean her face, mumbling how she was a pretty girl. “Just a shame your father has such an unhealthy way of parenting. Poor girl, you probably hardly ever had a night out to yourself in the last few years.” When he was done, he put the handkerchief in his pocket. “I have a nephew…Irish blooded like yourself.” Evie slowly widened her eyes. “Before you object, I’ll have you know, he’s handsome and,” he paused, grinning. “Large cocks run in the family-”

Evie stopped him right there. “So, you are going to kill her then hold me to a debt I never asked to be a part of? And that debt is to…what? Fuck your nephew? Mr. Nelson, I’m not going-”

“Come on, Evelyn,” he whined mockingly. “You’re beautiful. You’re unmarried, no kids….Who will you have to share your father’s assets with when the brain tumor takes over, huh? When he’s gone-”

“B-brain t-tumor,” Evelyn stuttered, a thump in her chest. What tumor?

“You know you’re your father’s favorite,” he continued, ignoring her disheveled, frazzled state. She clung to him, nails digging into his blue suit sleeve. “Your sister is dead…Miss. Stark has filed for a divorce. What do you think you inherited compared to, what’s his name? Charlie? You know that you got that house, that land, those five cars…all that money. Never mind the business and the horses. Wouldn’t it be nice to share it with someone? C’mon, sweetheart, a Boston-Irish girl like you deserves to reconnect with her roots-”

“Take me the fuck home!” She snapped. 

“Then make a deal-”

“I’ll see her then take me home.”

That’s when he grinned. “How do you know that she isn’t already dead and the deal hasn’t already been made? Hm?” Evelyn narrowed her eyes and raised her hand to slap him, when he caught it. Looking at his driver, he said, “take her home.”

[mecchantheotaku]

Since I already made a post on the Voices when they're sick, how about a post on the Voices when others are sick and they have to look after them?

Totally not coping

Hero: Despite being awful at looking after himself, he's great at looking after others. He makes sure whoever he's looking after is cared for in the best way possible and comforted throughout their illness.

Broken: He's basically already mourning whoever he has to look after, too unconfident in himself to even will himself to try and look after them. This does, however, motivate the sick person to start looking after themself.

Cheated: He'll look after the sick person but WILL complain all the way. However, he doesn't do it out of ill will towards the sick person and actually cares a lot. He's just very vocal whenever he's annoyed by anything.

Cold: Puts in the absolute bare minimum. Absolutely terrible at looking after others. You feel bad for anyone that's stuck with him when they're sick. He doesn't really care for things like illness much anyway and just suggests to sleep it off like he does.

Contrarian: His attempts of taking care of people's needs are... well... he tries. However, he goes by "laughter is the best medicine" and will attempt to cheer the sick person up no matter what. It's kind of sad when he fails...

Hunted: Hunted cares a bit too much. He is not leaving the sick person alone for a second. He won't allow anyone else near them except under specific circumstances. He's always either fetching what the person needs or comforting them through their illness protectively. And he's always on the lookout for potential threats.

Opportunist: He doesn't know what he's doing when it comes to looking after someone who's sick but attempts to hide that via constant reassurance. But that constant reassurance actually has the opposite effect and usually makes the sick person scared. He's just in general a disaster in this situation.

Paranoid: Oh God, he's even worse. To say he overdoes it would be an understatement. He fusses over medicine too much, he worries about it potentially being worse than it actually is, he checks their temperature way too often, and more often than not, he ends up getting sick himself by the end of it from the sheer stress. Poor guy.

Skeptic: He focuses more on helping the sick person get better than comforting them, outright admitting he's not the best at that due to his cynical mindset. He keeps a calm and rational head as he gives them their medicine and brings them what they need.

Smitten: The exact opposite of Skeptic. He's bad at actually treating illness (again, something he admits to), but he will do his best to make the sick person as comfortable as possible. Especially if the sick person is his beloved. He's very good at it, too.

Stubborn: Stubborn is passionate about helping the sick person get better. A bit too passionate, as he tends to go for rather brutal and extreme methods, like having them sweat out a fever by making them eat spicy soup. Usually, he ends up making it worse without even realising. He doesn't seem to understand that not everyone is built like him.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Blind Eclipse AU (I’m blaming you🦇 anon, you made me do this!)

Harvest Moon shocked him blind in a fit of bloodlust and rage. Eclipse passed out before Harvest could figure out what he did.

When Eclipse wakes up, Blood Moon is in the mind and laughs when he wakes up, disorienting the newly blind Eclipse with the echoes of his manic laughter.

Eclipse is so disoriented by the laughter that he crawls right into Blood Moon’s legs, only to be told 'you must be beginning to like torture, crawling right up to me like a bitch. we'll have to change torture methods again, sadly. shocking you was so much fun.'

Blood Moon slams his head into the cloud-ground with his foot knocking him back out.

By the time KC gains sentience and takes his three sons from the daycare, Eclipse is beyond broken, just this shaking little thing that doesn’t fight back at all.

Because he never had time or support to adapt his senses, Eclipse simply sits, he doesn’t walk anymore, the twins have pushed him back down too many times for him to refigure out how to walk.

He only talks when the twins let him, very terrified the entire time as one of the twins is always holding his shoulders and threatening him to behave.

The twins simply think Eclipse has gotten soft from torture, that they finally broke him (which they did). KC doesn’t notice at first until he uploads Eclipse into the lab.

Eclipse freaks out completely when he’s uploaded into the lab. He’s no longer even in a body, he’s scared, he feels so numb and he can’t see. He has a panic attack so bad KC takes pity and puts him in a body to figure out what’s happening with his eldest child.

The minute Eclipse is in his own body, he latches onto KC as quickly as he can, following his voice and collapsing against him because he’s forgotten how to walk.

KC now has his arms full of his crying, shaking eldest son who is clinging onto him for dear life, breaking down over how scared he was as a lab and he looks to the twins for an explanation they don’t have.

KC sits Eclipse at his desk and runs a scan on him, finding that he’s blind. He wants greatly to go off on the twins but poor Eclipse is holding tight to his arm and whimpering and still teary. His son needs him, he can’t go off yelling at the twins and practically abandon Eclipse.

KC picks up and holds Eclipse, letting him nuzzle close and latch on again, letting him cry himself to sleep with ‘daddy, I was scared’.

Once Eclipse is asleep and KC tucks him into bed, KC splits the twins apart and screams at them so much he and Moon nearly end up with a broken voicebox.

After their thorough reaming, the twins are much more regretful of what they’ve done. They swear to never hurt him again, only a little coaxed out of them by KC.

KC refuses to leave the twins alone with Eclipse at first, he runs this by Moon, who agrees, due to the circumstances, to bring Eclipse to the daycare away from the twins a bit while he reorients himself and KC helps him recover.

Sun and Lunar get the short answer of ‘the twins tortured him so bad he had a panic attack the second he was separated from them, also, he’s blind now’.

Eclipse refuses to leave Moon and KC’s side the first week of recovery, ending up in tears when they do and trying to crawl after them.

Sun found him crawling one time and took pity on him, picking him up and carrying him to Moon doing his security rounds, assuring Eclipse the whole time that he was ‘delivering him to papa’.

Lunar is sent a bit reeling seeing the guy who abused him so vulnerable and dependent on them and it doesn’t get any better for the little bean when Eclipse is so kind and docile now that Eclipse has no choice but to trust those around him and simply try to please them in hopes they won’t hurt him again.

He takes a long time to recover, it takes a bit just to reteach him walking instead of being carried or crawling around. He’s very shaky walking at first and slowly is able to go back to walking as he used to, though he can’t run because he may hit into something or simply fall.

His remaining senses are still a bit wonky, his hearing is distorted from the twins’ mindscape being so echoey and he’s used to being a lot quieter now. It takes time to readjust his senses.

Eclipse likes spending more time with Moon than anyone else because Moon always makes sure he’s okay and never leaves Eclipse alone for very long after the patrol incidents.

Lunar is also a contender for his favorite time-spending person because he wants greatly to make it up to Lunar and apologize through actions with him. Eclipse tries...so hard. He even tries to make Lunar cupcakes, because he knows he likes sweet foods, on his own.

Lunar still eats the cupcake even if it comes out horrible, Eclipse tried hard to make it and he doesn’t want to see Eclipse be sad that he failed at such a simply thing.

Blood Moon and Harvest Moon eventually get brought to the daycare after Eclipse recovers and, though Eclipse still is jumpy around them, he adjusts well once the twins realize Eclipse has become an entirely different person due to the trauma they gave him.

The twins work hard to get his trust back and eventually Eclipse stops being so jumpy and shaky around them and will even let them hug him.

[asinfullangel]

12 Pressure

“Sometimes it takes a little persuasion to make a pred great.”

In every family that has a pred offspring it would take some sort of method to get them to eat their first prey. Sometimes money, a new toy/game or maybe a promise to some sort of amusement park. Since this is pressure I’m going to add pressure. A boy that turned 18 started to show signs that he needed to have a prey included in his diet, but trying his best to hide the fact.

Zack had been the helpful and very friendly kind of guy that enjoyed his current life. Many friends and socially at his college that most of the student body know him one way or another. The thing is that somewhere along his family tree there was one family member that kinda hooked up with a pred and luckily their kid only became a carrier of the pred genetics. About Zack's situation, he so happened to be on this same bloodline. But he can’t possibly become a pred when that part of his heritage has been dormant for years… Till he had a little run in with a buddy, both tripping on something that crashed their faces against each other. Just some bruising and a nosebleed. Though Zack should have cleaned off the blood that got on his lips, he accidently got a taste. Just one drip may taste funny to him though it did awaken the pred heritage within him to begin the change in diet.

The next few days he slowly felt fatigue and light headed during his day. After a meal he still felt hungry which affected his mood. He wanted to get a little check up with a doctor about these changes slowly appearing in his body, but would he want to risk worrying his family over this was on his mind. So he turned to trying to fit the problem with some supplements, eating larger meals and researching the interest for some leads. The changes didn’t do much to help his overall condition. Next was to come visit his friend for some advice on whatever was happening. That may have strengthened the problem he has yet to get a lead to. Seeing them spark his stomach to growl though played it off as just what he gets for eating a light breakfast. They hang out while having some lunch, eating this lunch felt empty to him though he did smell something actually tasty… It was his friends beside him. Questioning how it could be that they smell so good (drool building up in his mouth because of their scent).

This kept up for the rest of the week till he reached a sort of breaking point. Somewhere around, “I just need to get away from them,” to, “Maybe I should call a bud over, just for the night.” He was kinda losing his mind because of this hunger. He did call over a buddy just to hang out with him. His room looked clean (he’s going mad with hunger, but isn’t going to let his room get dirty in the process) and Zack was laying on his bed in a daze. His buddy was of course worried about the state Zack is in. Those he was more worried about himself out of a sudden he sprung onto him and pinned him to the ground, silence in second as Zank’s body took over for him, for his hunger.

Awaken back to his senses a bit dizzy and a bloated feeling now hitting his mind. Then came the shock when he saw that his stomach bloated beyond normal size and the lumpy shape to it looked odd. He planted a hand on it just to check if he was dreaming, nope he was not and the surface of his stomach felt warm to the touch. This could not be real that he ate something or a few things to get his stomach to this size, but no clue on what it is otherwise was. He felt better though… So after cleaning himself up though it was a little odd with his own stomach kinda weighing him forward he looked for his phone to call up a friend to come and check this out. Zank picked to call the same friend he invited over before… (hehe) Surprised to hear a phone ringing, but it was so close to him. He even felt the phone vibrating somewhere on him till he looked down. The thought that was slowly clicked scared him a little and it is impossible to eat a person whole. Then came flying out his friend’s phone when he let loose a burp…

What else could I say that he discovers he is a pred (once he finds out there are others to fully understand what a pred is) and he will always be stuck seeing his friend as possibly food whenever his hunger flares up. Though he will find some comfort let’s say at the end of his semester when he sees his eaten friends back in one piece when he moves back home for the summer.

[sorcerous-caress]

Hi hello I'm back and non-anon (bc I'm not scared anymore lmao), I sent in the star elf/eldarin ask!!

First off, for your influence on my DM work, I table for a party of really really new players, so a lot of them are just starting out as humans for now. To kinda get them further into the realm of exploring different worlds, I built an elf NPC somewhat inspired by your modern AU (but a little bit turned down on the sexual stuff bc I need them to not get distracted lmao), and a lot of your more general posts led me to want to explore the specific customs and practices of different elven groups, which led me down a rabbithole and now I'm trying to piece together dnd lore from the very beginning, like the genetic origins of the current species and stuff. It's been a super fun inquiry, and I have you to thank for inspiring me!!

As for your response to my ask...

DAMN. the Echoes of the Fey concept was SUPER COOL and now I really wanna look into that too bc it could work for some insane roleplay and some neat scenarios. I just love the idea of nonverbal and magical communication bc it has so much potential, and it's even better if it doesn't follow the mechanics of speech and is more based around general emotions or a different quantifying system. It's so fun to explore!!

Also oh my godddd, HUMANS AND HUMAN WORLDS AS A BREATH OF FRESH AIR. My ask was all over the place but you fully caught on to exactly what I was talking about!!! Even beyond the sexual side, there's something so intimate and beautiful about removing your "higher" level methods of communication for a raw, gritty ability to just feel. The idea of essentially letting down all of those magical concepts that are inherently emotional and having to go it alone and figure it all out physically is just so, UGH. There's something there but I don't have the words to explain it (but you did, and I'm so glad you get where I'm coming from)

But yeah there's so much to explore there and I love it so much

Love ya 💜💜

I love ya too!! 🩷🩷

Also omfg using the human infatuated modern elf as a guide for your new players is a genius move.

Like this one loser high elf with a respectful facade who is just so obsessed over humans that the second they see a gaggle of new human adventure waddling around like ducks, looking at everything with shiny eyes, the elf takes an emergency holiday from their high paying job and goes to the humans.

Imagine all the pep talk they'd give themselves.

"Okay okay we got this!! We got this! We practised this before in the mirror.

All you have to do is walk up to them and introduce yourself yes yes, mention that you're a high elf and throw some elvish words around, humans love these right?

Do NOT mention the porn and do NOT ask to touch their ears no matter how adorable and tempting they look to squeeze-well maybe...if the human is willing and it's not weird right? They'd allow me to touch their ears if I asked nicely so maybe-

NO-NO NO NO. no touching ears, stay focused for Corellon's sake! It is my job to guide humans after all, yes? All those stories you read of elves guiding humanity weren't just fantasy, if the elves don't look after the humans then who will? The dwarves? HA, as if."

Then they walk up to them, pretending to be all graceful and noble like.

"Ehem! Aethen, uh, humans, right? Isee that your kind is still as lost as ever. Maethe you are in need of a guide, yes? "

They'd also be a bit protective of them, especially around other elves who call humans biir aka garbage. Having an entire argument with the other person in elvish and insulting their entire lineage before turning to the humans like nothing happened and asking if they'd like to go to a tavern? The elf's treat.

Also this elf's whole education about humans came from the Internet and half of it is misinformation. Somehow they know the most niche of medical facts about humans yet lack knowledge about the most basic things.

This is just me talking about my modern human kink high elf. Your npc was just inspired by them so I'm not expecting them to act the same or have the same concept, still this was a fun idea!

And Aaaa thank you so much <3333 you're so kind. This praise is going straight to my heart and making it bigger. Feel free to drop by anytime and share any of your human kink idea or even knowledge about elves!

Rn I'm reading about the human age boom in the forgotten realms, it is kinda interesting to think about a time where humans were far and between before literally ruling over the earth in the span of thousands of years.

[ultfreakme]

RIKI OH MY FUCKING GOD DID YOU SEE THE AOSJK 6 PREVIEWS? JON HAS GONE FULL FUCKING COLD AND CALCULATING. ITS FUCKING HAPPENING

I am in shock and awe.

I am so shocked right now.

Okay. Look. Okay so we already KNOW Jon likes to be methodical and goes into every fight having done some homework and preparation. We saw how confident he gets, and can even flaunt his strengths when he is assured he has the upper hand (when he did that microsurgery on Lachlan/flaming dude in SOKE, winning against Lex in chess).

But this.

This is on a level I just did not expect. The terrifying part for me, about Jon, is that he is nowhere near as nice as Clark when he's confronting people. He gives them a chance to explain themselves, he listens. But he does it with this...distance. I think this preview shows him at the height of his preparedness and AOSJK is a good example overall to show how exactly Jon works as Superman.

He asks what the problem is

He gets perspectives from all parties

He does personal investigation

He waits and watches

He deliberates on it and examines the information

He prepares himself for whatever battle is to come to his best abilities based on the information he's gathered

He strikes

He's so very methodical in the way he fights and this means he's not personally involving himself as much as other Supers usually do. He's doing the right thing but the measures he's going to are treading on some...questionable territories???

Like he's ripping off nth metal wings, he came to an agreement with Barry but even then he isn't nice about it, he's not being like "I know you have good in you Barry" and trying to appeal to his emotions AT ALL. Actually I don't think he's ever tried to 'redeem' ANY of them- even the people he's trying to save.

I think....Harley expected a better closure or better reception to admission of her involvement in Lois's death but Jon just ripped her a new one and left it at that.

He has a job to do, and atm Barry's a non-issue and that's all that matters. I don't think he particularly cares right now about "second chances". The previews cut off but he REALIZES Hal is SCARED and....and he seems so unaffected by the fact that Hal's scared of him. Which is wild considering the Yellow Lantern Ring is involved rn, and it's all about fear(fingers crossed Jon Yellow Lantern???)

There's like a clear shift in tone when Jon realizes Jay's missing. He goes from just distant and cold to angry and cold. Idk, we always think Jon's the nicer one but he really isn't.

I keep comparing him to Clark and I'm like. If Clark were here, he'd probably try to appeal to InClarkstice and this JL. Or he'd focus on rescuing the rebel team over taking down the JL. It's so clear just from this how Jon's priorities differ.

Sorry for rambling anyways Jon's fucking unhinged.

[helianskies]

for the dialogue prompts, 11 + turkspa? :)

drooling crying screaming 🍪

Talk

He wrangles the other around a corner, out of sight and hopefully out of earshot, and urges in a clumsy not-quite-whisper, "Will you keep your voice down?"

"Why?" the other returns. "Scared someone will hear?"

"I'm not scared, no—"

"Then stop trying to avoid me, and let's talk!"

"Sure," Sadık scoffs, "let's talk, not shout for the whole damn building to hear!"

"Yeah, well, some things," Antonio returns, barely lowering his voice as his tone turns more harsh, "are hard to be quiet about!"

"Even for five minutes?"

"You really want me to stop?"

"Yes!"

"Then make me! Go on, make me!"

The demand (or is it a challenge?) creates a brief stalemate. Sadık stares at Antonio, and the other stares right back. 

Then, Antonio takes a slow breath.

And then—

"I'm not going to act like it didn't happen," he proceeds, his voice finding an almost normal volume. "You and I had quite the night, and I'm frankly seriously offended that you're now ignoring me. That isn't fair!"

"I'm not trying to ignore it, or you," Sadık replies. While he is grateful that the other has at least quietened down, he knows that he's far from safe. "This isn't the time or place to talk about last night, Antonio. Not while we're around people we know. Other nations. People who might misinterpret our actions."

Antonio appears to not be quite convinced by such an excuse, however. "Am I misinterpreting last night…?"

"N— No—"

"Then don't mess me around," he warns. "If last night meant anything to you, you should know better than to do that to me."

He's right. Sadık does know better. And he knows that, right now, the other is doing a very good job of holding himself back.

In the past, a confrontation such as this one could end in blows, in a verbal scuffle, in a trip and tumble onto a bed (in which the viciousness of both participants erupted into a coping method—a method of loving). He can feel them now, the ghosts of fingers, hands, limbs and lips. Not-so-distant memories and memories from centuries ago, too.

Now that he stands there, and Antonio stands before him, he realises that they have stood together like this repeatedly throughout a shared history. Harsh whispers, cruel words. Daring gazes, silent threats. Sadık finds it a shame that old habits die hard, but Antonio, at least, seems to be calming down somewhat now that he has gotten his words out.

He even looks… a little bit sad… or hurt…

"You don't want to talk," the other continues, "and fine, I get it. But we have to talk at some point."

Sadık concurs and assures him that, "We will. We can talk later on, once all of this—" He jabs a thumb towards the conference room, half-full of nations while they're all on recess. "—is over."

Antonio hesitates—his eyes search Sadık's face for any hint of dishonesty.

"You mean that?" he asks in the end, semi-accusatory. "You won't run off and disappear when the day's up?"

"No," he says, shaking his head. "If you want to talk, then that's what we'll do."

Antonio hums. "Right," he says, short, blunt. "But do you want to talk?"

"I just said that—"

"That I want to talk, and I do. But I don't want to have a one-way conversation, either," Antonio explains to him, which in turn makes Sadık feel… bad. Like he hasn't listened, or hasn't understood, even if he has. Hasn't he…? "If you want this—" And he gestures between the pair of them. "—to be something more than a single night in a hotel room, then you'll have to tell me. I just— I'll let you think about it… I don't want to force you into anything if you're not sure…"

So, Antonio walks away. Somehow, and so much more controlled than he was moments ago, he walks back around the corner and towards where refreshments have been provided in order to kill what time remains of the break. 

Sadık feels a tug for no more than a split second. He feels a tug to stop him, to grab him again, to pull him back and tell him exactly how he feels with brazen actions rather than words. But the tug fades as fast as it arrives when Antonio makes it more than three steps away, and Sadık is left alone in his silence.

The truth of the matter is, he knows what he wants. He just doesn't know if Antonio wants the same. So yes, they'll talk. But the conversation to come is one that does scare him. He'd just sooner die than admit that to anyone.

[fixfoxnox]

Also let me scream into the creative writing Void

THE GHOST’S DEAD FIANCE???

Chef kisses, left no crumbs

I love how you are defying the past! GhostRoach and dead fiance! Roach rule by twisting it up making them establish and alive all while soap is like “i need to have them both carnally” FUCK YOUR PAST! GHOSTROACH

(Not a request btw) Although I also wanna read a dead fiance! Soap because I think that’ll be hilarious in a “how does that make you feel GhostSoap shipper with Past! GhostRoach hmmm? How you like them apples??” But like i need them to have a good communication and instead of roach being hurt that he cant have ghost its more of Roach helping Ghost to heal in a healthy way that makes them have a good relationship from the start and then them establishing a healthy relationship later too

I was also laughing so hard when Roach asked Ghost if he’s been telling everyone he died, bro was about to break off the wedding (I also love how u made them fiances here my roachghost heart healed a little) its giving “i can still hear his voice” “quit telling everybody I’m dead”

I do have a question though, is roach also military in this? Or is he retired or have a different job?

MONSTER AU

When your boyfriends are fast food ❤️

ASDSFHDKDLFL I AM in love with Monsterfucker, I will eat it up everytime especially if its love between different monsters?? Slurping that bitch up like its soup

Also i need to yell about the fact that Ghost is a Vamp-Demon hybrid here?!!! And that he scares people but then Roach meets him for the first time and he fully wants Ghost and Soap goes along with him💀💀💀 me too roach, me too, its giving, you should be more scared of the person holding the leash than the dog itself (im sorry I had to) like imagine living out your whole life and people are scared of u even tall behemoth of men, but then this small funky mousy haired guy just looks at you with so much lust?? Ghost I would fold ngl

STREAMER/CAMBOY

I know u haven’t written this yet but Im going to yell about this anyways because this has got to be my fav AU, i really just love streamer love stories despite the whole reborn not being canon that was still a hilarious take, Ghost would make so many “in my days” joke every time someone tries too hard in a game

And I absolutely am stealing this from real people’s experience; but what if Ghost is a faceless streamer and when he just started getting to know Roach, trying to flirt with him, he face reveals in front of Roach while roach is streaming and roach is just speechless and going redder by the second all while his chat is going insane

Im gonna go to my corner now and buzz around while i brain rot

Ahhhhh!!!

On Ghosts Dead Fiance:

I just love when Soap see's Ghost and Roach and is just immediately in love (especially with Roach) its my favorite dynamic ever and I think he's just enough of a himbo for that to happen sjdjdjdj

I would still like to eventually do a flipping it on its head in the method of killing off Soap version, but we probably won't get that until I get enraged by dead Roach content again ahsh

And I'm 100% going to make them more healthy than any of the SoapGhost fics but I'm also gonna throw in a line like "because of you I forget that I was ever even in love with Soap" just to pass people off because I'm evil like that

Then in the comments I'll hit 'em with "wow guys, Soap sent Roach for Ghost guys 🥺 he knew that he was better for him"

Also Roach is meant to be retired in the story, hence why Ghost has one of his dog tags. Since Roach wasn't going to be out in the field anymore (personal choice he made because he was tired, and he works CIA now with aunt Laswell) he decided to give Ghost one of his tags so he would "always have a piece of me with you"

On Monster AU:

*scary powerful monster walks in the room*

Roach, immediately: I'll just take that, thank you very much *seduces him*

Roach and Soap and even Ghost in this Au are definitely the be more scared of the person holding the leash than the dog itself thing. Roach has these two men wrapped around his finger dude and he's so good at playing innocent here

I think I mentioned but his whole thing is like seducing people while making them think that they're seducing him. He just chooses his partners though and gets Soap to growl at any unwanted people (most people) while he enjoys his two hot fellow monster boyfriends 😌

Also love making Ghost panic and run out of the room like a bat outta hell because he knows if he stays he will absolutely end up sleeping with these two members of his team who he's not even properly met yet. Poor guy is in for it though cause Roach isn't going to let him get away that easily

On Camboy/Streamer AU:

LISTEN I THINK ME AND YOU MAY BE THE ONLY TWO EXCITED FOR THIS AU BUT IM SO GLAD SOMEINE ELSE LIKES IT AS MUCH AS ME

IM GENUINELY SO EXCITED TO WRITE IT SKSKKDJDJ

If I didn't have to write part of an essay today I would be drafting up part of it right now because ACK

JUST THESE BOYS BEING IN LOVE AND SLOWLY GETTING PUSHED TOGETHER AND AHHH I LOVE THE IDEA OF GHOST BEING A FACELESS STREAMER WHO DOES A FACE REVEAL FOR ROACH WHILE ROACH IS ON SCREEN

I just know they'd have a shit ton of fanfics written about them

Also on the line of if this Ghost was reborn Ghost I've been thinking about that more and like...streamer AU's Gaz and Soap being his gaming buddies (Price is Gaz's controversially older boyfriend who hangs out with them on stream occasionally)

And I can just see people shipping Ghost and Soap from the streams and someone is like "Are you two dating" and Soap just playfully drops "No, Ghost is whipped for another streamer, take your bets on who"

And it starts a whole big thing and when, eventually, Ghost and the squad start streaming with Roach everyone just knows that this is the guy that he's whipped for

LISTEN I MAY HAVE TO DO AN AU OF THE AU FOR THIS SJDJJDJD YOUR MIND DUDE, YOUR MIND

[bunatee]

A very long post in which I talk about why the first attempt at this piece is the way it is and what I did differently in the second attempt. This is mostly just for my own reference and is more or less an analysis of my work and processes for the sake of self improvement.

These pieces were definitely a lesson in my processes and how I draw. Both pieces clearly started from the same sketch.

In the original attempt the sketches progressed like this as I attempted to only use the initial sketch and work with the lines that I had originally laid down. I was also using a much harder pen than I would normally use by the end stages. This ended up making the entire work very thick and cartoon-y. Especially her facial features, which really doesn't work with Edelgard having such a dainty look to her.

Such thick linework made it harder to really render her features with shading, which only added to how flat the final result looks. It also was a terrible idea to change the lines from a dark shade on a Linear Burn layer to just black.

Compare this to the second version, which was made by simply tracing the 3rd sketch above to create a new clean layer of line work. This is what my normal process would already entail. During my first attempt at the piece this just wasn't working for me and rather than take a break I tried to push through it by doing things in a different way than normal.

It's harder to tell between the two final images of linework, but the second attempt is not made with black. It's actually a muted purple (#565263, if anyone reads this an is curious about the exact shade. Normally I would use a deep red specifically #590d0d or #993333 depending on the piece.) Using these shades on a linear burn layer allows for the line art to blend a bit better and look less harsh against the rendering layer underneath.

Now lets compare the rendering between the two. There should probably be a trigger warning for the jump scare that is the rendering of these without the line work (/j, in case that is needed).

The trickier thing is figuring out where I went so wrong with the rendering. Both used roughly the same method that I always use so why is the first one so bad?

It is immediately obvious that everything is entirely too soft on the original variant. There is very little definition between anything. Comparatively the second attempt has significantly harder lines between different parts of the fabric and shapes. For the first version I didn't take the time to actually create a selection layer and individually shade each individual part of the figure. This is something I did take the time to do on the second piece and overall I spent less time working on it even with that added effort. Clearly that part of the process is incredibly important.

Next, the second version drapes the fabric significantly better and the decorative caps on the cloak feel like they have a proper amount of weight to them. The actual body of the cape could still use improvement but is still better off than the original. The headpiece and necklace-thing both have defined features now rather than just a few haphazardly placed highlights.

Additionally there is a lot more variation in the actual colors used. The blues used to shade the second piece add a lot of dimension to the clothes that just using darker reds did not achieve.

The only things that I think the first does better in this area is the shade of blue used for the collar and the part of the horns that attach to her hair. (Honestly though, what the fuck is that head piece?) And the lighter shade of purple used for her eyes.

In the end if I had to go back and make an further fixes (which I may do if I get to the point of actually having enough work to make prints for CCAG) I would fix whatever the actual fuck is happening with her rib-cage that I seemed to have ignored entirely in both pieces and just pull that part of the cape forward a bit more to cover that very awkward space. I would also do those couple of color adjustments that were already mentioned.

Otherwise, I'm really pleased with how this second version turned out.

If you made it to the end of this, thanks for reading! I hope you're having a wonderful day <3

[chocoenvy]

heyo, it’s me pretty anon. (i like it better than bully anon too :))

i think i fucked up

so, i’ll keep this simple since i need to go to bed cause it’s like 4:30am and i get up at 8 lmao.

since the cruise my dad and step-mom decided to physically split as well. my dad is signing for a divorced in the next couple of days. my step-mom is in a completely different state rn with her youngest daughter and mother. my mom mom doesn’t know about the divorced and honestly i think no one’s told her since we don’t wanna hear it.

so um, i haven’t really gotten a chance to talk to anyone about this stuff since i live in a small town and everyone knows everyone yknow? so firstly, thank you for letting me vent. it’s nice to talk to someone the same age anonymously. you give good advice.

anyway, all of this has kinda been building up on me, which is super weird cause i thought i wouldn’t care. i’m a senior in high school rn so it’s not like i can’t go visit her once i graduate. and my dad and step mom are both encouraging me to keep up a relationship with her. she wasn’t really around much and when she was it was only ever good one on one since with my dad it would be borderline abusive. (or maybe actually abusive, i’m not really sure i know how to identify it. it just seems normal to me)

my dad also asked me if i had contacted my step mom like a couple days after she left. i’d been wanting to but i had no idea what to say to her. so i didn’t. he said to me, and i don’t think i’ll ever forget this, “oh. i thought you loved her.” in the most casual tone. my heart is broken. i got really upset with him and he literally could not comprehend why. i’m starting to second guess myself if i loved her or not. i know for a fact that i did, but does she know it?

so yknow the new ios 16 update? weird change of pace i know but i swear it’s important. well i just decided like an hour ago to get it and i fucking hate it. fun fact, if you have spotify on and your phone turns off then they change YOUR LOCKSCREEN to match the spotify song. wtf. well i started off hating it cause i had to scroll through over 2,000 photos just to find the exact same ones i was currently using (it’s venti and xiao btw) and i started hyperventilating.

well i was doing my daydreams when i realized the spotify thing. and i completely stopped. i had a full blown panic attack for at least 45 minutes. i was hyperventilating so hard i honestly thought i was going to passed out. i later down so i at least wouldn’t fall and everything.

i think i panicked because of all the penh up emotions that i have going on rn.

after i finally calmed down, i went over to plug in my chrome book for school. and then i remembered i had an eyebrow razor in my backpack…

i think you know what i meant when i said i fucked up.

it was only four cuts. not deep enough to draw blood except for one, all tiny on my thigh where no one can see them. i can’t believe i did it though. and the worst part, the absolute worst part is, the relief i felt? it’s like i actually have control.

i know you said the ice cube method. i’ve actually told other freinds going through a hard time about it too. but at the moment, i just wasn’t thinking straight.

im scared im gonna do it again. any ideas on what i should do? lol

with love, pretty anon

HELLO PRETTY <33 I'm so sososososo sorry for answering this so late but!

tw: self harm, relapses, sensitive topics

It's completely valid and I cannot fault you for relapsing it is a very normal part of healing. So long as you get back up, everything will be okay I promise.

But! I remembered an app that I had come across some years ago. I forgot the name and when I tried to look it up i found calm harm.

The app I thought of describes self harm as a wave. The want to harm yourself flows in and then out. It comes and goes. The trick is to distract yourself before the feeling takes over your actions. Calm Harm definitely helps with it from what I've seen. I've never tried these apps though. There are also counters that count how long you've gone without cutting if that kind of thing helps.

Would definitely recommend! As well as watching videos or creating a playlist full of videos/songs that make you happy! Find something that makes you happy and hold onto it for when you need it! I can completely understand not being in the right state of mind and forgetting it which is why you should have it on your phone so you can access it before you can access something else. It also helps if you're ever in public - or even in private - and need to calm down.

Gather resources to prepare for these down times. It'll help!

I understand that self harm can feel good, god trust me I know, but it's not worth it. There are other things that can make you feel better than self harm can. And I can't speak for you but after I self harm I just feel so much shame?? And fear?? Mostly because I don't want someone to find them but I just feel ashamed.

I can't explain it and I really don't have much room to talk because I'm still stuck in self harm. But if it means anything, I would be very proud to see you heal from this <3

I'm glad you can talk about this anonymously but if you ever need to talk to me one on one my dms are always open <3

Take care! And I'm sorry for answering so late, I hope you're okay <33

[abrushwithdeath]

@lediableblanc-amoureuxdechats​

‘ Dat’s right. let it all out. ’

It was right there and I have very little self control when it comes to foreplay sparring

This wasn’t meant to turn into a sparring session. The intent had been some much needed solo training- or, rather, a way to work out her stress in both a productive and private manner through punching the hell outta whatever she could get her fists on. But Remy, being Remy, had decided to get himself involved despite her initial protests. Fine. If he wanted to be on the receiving end of her agitation (which was only heightened by his insistence on sticking around) then that was on him. She wasn’t much in the mood for playing nice, after all.  “Jus’ don’t go whinin’ when I knock ya on yer ass, Cajun.” A warning that she didn’t intend to hold herself back any more than absolutely necessary.

Rogue didn’t need any time to warm up, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take a moment. She’d been in here a little more than half an already, and the smallest of breaks in between training and sparring was probably a smart move. So she offered herself, and Remy, a few seconds before they began. A chance to loosen up and to toss out some ground rules, “No powers, got it?” She stretched her arms above her head, fingers of her right hand wrapping around the wrist of the left as she did so, her top riding up just enough to offer a peek at her stomach. It lasted for only a few short seconds, however, and then she was readjusting her gloves. A couple last moment preparations, “No weapons, either. ‘less yer scared.” She taunted, a hint of a smirk finally rising. Hand to hand was her preferred method, especially at a time like this, and she knew Remy was better at it than he often let on. Even if she was still mildly irritated, maybe this could be fun? Remy wasn’t liable to go easy on her, and he was more than capable of holding his own. Especially considering he knew her well enough that she’d have to find a way to switch things up if she wanted to catch him off guard. He seemed to have a good idea of her usual tactics, after all. “An’ I promise I’ll try not t’aim for that pretty face’a yers.” The smirk flickered into a proper grin- an expression hovering on mischievous.

The (simple) conditions had been put in place, but there was something else to be added. One final thought before they began, “I win, yer takin’ me out t’dinner. An’ I want somethin’ nice.” Was there a hint of flirtation to the request? Maybe. If he picked up on it, though, she’d just deny it. She really hadn’t eaten yet today, after all, and she could feel the pinch of hunger settling in. Blame it on that, “I ain’t all that worried ‘bout losin’-” Arrogant? A little. But it was more just to rile Remy up than because she was absolutely certain she had this won already, “But it’s only fair t’ask- what d’ya want if you win?” Then, just because she knew Remy, she interjected before he could speak up, “An’ keep the requests PG. ‘less yer lookin’ t’get knocked out ‘fore we even start.” Though, admittedly, there was something thrilling about the open way he flirted sometimes. Even if it also made her wanna deck him.  It was complicated.

"Ready?” Ready or not, she was quick to make the first move. Swift on her feet, but not-so-subtle in the way she rushed him. It really didn’t help that, once the adrenaline kicked back in, the tenseness of her frustration and stress from before fell back upon her tenfold.  Was it fair to Remy that she was using this opportunity to take it out on him? No. But she’d warned him from the start that she was in a poor mood. He knew what he was getting into.  He also likely knew that, after the initial attack, it wouldn’t be long before her emotions got the better of her again. Less thinking, more striking. Not the smartest tactic, but she wasn’t here to outwit him. She was here to let off some steam. Sincerely, more than anything in that moment, she wanted to make good on her promise to knock him on his ass. She hadn’t wanted to spar with anyone in the first fucking place. She’d just wanted some goddamned space. A chance to just... release all the pent up tension of a shitty week. And then Remy had walked in. Why? What was he thinking? Or hoping for? What in the hell was he trying to do? It was what annoyed her the most about him- the fact that he seemed to read her so easily, but that she couldn’t read him. She couldn’t figure out what game he was playing, and why he insisted on playing it with her. Weren’t there other people he could fuck with? People who’d fall for it all hook, line, and sinker? 

What had started as just a simple, borderline playful, sparring session was quickly devolving. She really had warned him, though. She may have found a few moments of emotional reprieve while she’d laid down the groundwork of this little fight, but it hadn’t lasted for long. Her head was swimming, after all. And it left her feeling like a trapped animal, needed to tear her way to freedom. Freedom from what, exactly? She didn’t know. But she was sure she could relieve the pressure of it if she fought something, or someone, she supposed. Wore herself out. Tired her body and, in turn, her mind. Although her ceaseless thoughts had, at first, been primarily about the team, about her mothers, about her past... so many of them were now focusing on Remy. Because he was right here. Right the fuck here. Just one of many frustrating, confusing, aspects of her life, but a prominent one, no doubt. And when her jaw clenched and her movements became more sporadic, less controlled, he was telling her to let it all out.  Why?  This wasn’t for her sake, surely. Kindness like that didn’t come without a cost. What price was he hoping she would pay for it? What did he think he was getting out of this? She couldn’t make sense of it. Of him. Of her own damned emotions when he was around. Yet he kept coming back, kept toying with her. Kept looking at her, talking to her, in that way that made her chest tighten, her breath catch. He kept making her mind wander, making her think that maybe he actually-

The anger grew sharp, even if that had not been the intent of his words. Or maybe he really had wanted her to let it all out. To vent with her fists the way most people did with their voice. And despite herself, she indulged him in a bit of both.  “Ya shoulda lef’ me alone like I asked!” The words were nearly growled through gritted teeth, and though she was showing some restraint (with strength like hers, she needed to), it was steadily getting harder to do so. Instead, she channeled that into words, some way to keep herself balanced. “What are ya playin’ at, Cajun? Huh? Why won’t ya jus’ leave me alone?” Each question was accompanied by another attack, forcing Remy to stay on the defense as best as she could manage. Attempts to grab him, to land a hit, to trip him up- something. Anything!  “Why d’ya keep fuckin’ with me?!” That’s all this was, after all. He was just messing with her. She was absolutely convinced of it. The worst part, though, was that she kept letting it get to her. That she felt it settle in her chest. That desire to... to give in and just let him lead her. To stop fighting it in the hopes that there was some semblance of sincerity in his words, in his actions.  It was so hard to believe in the sincerity of it, though. To think that, even if he wanted her, he’d ever actually stick around.

It was a challenge, but her fingers finally wrapped around his left forearm and, swiftly, she moved to lock it behind his back. It would be easy enough for him to break out of, even when she landed a grip on his formerly free wrist, as well. But something told her that he’d give her a second. Just one. But that was all she needed to ask the question that lay so heavily upon her. She was so close now that her chest was nearly pressed against his back, “Whaddya want from me, Remy?” She didn’t expect an honest answer, but that didn’t mean that the question wasn’t asked sincerely.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

There’s a Douglas Adams quote I love that says: “Anything that is in the world when you're born is normal and ordinary and is just a natural part of the way the world works. Anything that's invented between when you're fifteen and thirty-five is new and exciting and revolutionary and you can probably get a career in it. Anything invented after you’re thirty-five is against the natural order of things.”

I’ve always tended more toward the latter end of that spectrum of views, even though I’m not 35 yet, but I’ve realized I’m approaching an age at which that is less cool. I was complaining about kids these days with their shitty pop music when I was ten – not the sole reason why I had no friends as a child, but it probably didn’t help (the real reason was debilitating social anxiety, which meant I almost never spoke at school and did very nearly all this complaining to my parents and my journal, but I’m remembering one or two occasions when I said something about it around other kids and that can’t have helped). I joined Facebook when everyone else did, and since then have complained about the advent of every new type of social media, even though Twitter and Instagram started when I was a teenager. So I’ve always been a curmudgeon about kids these days. But at 32, I’m realizing it now makes me an old person who condescendingly looks down on the next generation, rather than a precocious child or a contrarian teenager who refuses to be part of my own generation. And I liked being those other two things, but this one’s not so good.

I thought of that today, listening to Daniel Kitson on his radio show talk shit about the entire concept of podcasts. When he started on that subject, I had an immediate, automatic reaction of, “Okay, the parody of Russell Howard and all other 6 Music DJs telling people text into the show was entertaining, that radio show is something I enjoyed but recognize is not exactly the height of art, but how about backing off from taking shots at the life’s work of Andy Zaltzman, given that that is the height of art.” But then he started complaining about podcasters who add video versions where we can see them with their microphone, and actually, I do kind of dislike that The Bugle has started doing that in recent years, for entirely curmudgeonly reasons. And if I see someone do that when they haven’t built up the mountains of respect that I have for Andy Zaltzman, that’ll just immediately annoy me.

I thought of this the other day as well, when a nice person in a message recommended me a YouTuber’s videos, and I tried to watch them but just could not get past my automatic judgement of the concept of “YouTubers”. But to be fair, what does make that inherently different from the podcasts I love? They’re just people talking into microphones, and I’m just mad because they’re doing it in a slightly different format than the one I’m used to. Who cares if they say “like and subscribe” at the end? I politely understand the need for bits of audio podcasts when the guests plug their work, why does it seem so much worse when a YouTuber asks people to do whatever makes them money? I generally consider it a bad thing that there’s a trend of comedy becoming the domain of social media instead of more traditional methods, but don’t traditional methods suck? It creates a lot of pointless bullshit when everyone with a computer and a camera has an equal shot of “creating content” that gets noticed (I’m sorry, I can’t bring myself to write that without scare quotes, I hate the term so much), but isn’t that better than a few TV networks deciding what’s out there? I believe that in theory, but I still think the idea of “social media content creators” is about the worst thing I’ve ever heard. Even though Munya Chawawa’s music parody videos are actually very funny.

Anyway, I thought all those things while listening to Daniel Kitson talk shit, and had a few seconds of getting viscerally defensive when he got into podcasts specifically even though obviously I knew he was playing up the curmudgeonliness on purpose. And I knew he was about to undercut it by saying he could see the flaws in his views. I knew he’d do that because he does it almost every time he talks shit about anything, which is one of the things I really like about him.

In this case, putting too much stock in anything he said about podcasts being shit was especially pointless, because the entire thing was an act. Looking for archives of that radio show led me through some message board threads in which I had a few things about this radio show’s ending spoiled for me, so I actually already know that (spoiler alert, but I’m guessing the number of people reading this post and planning to listen to the radio show while not wanting spoilers is pretty low) he’s building to a reveal that what we thought was a live radio show was really a podcast all along. Or something. So every time he complains about people recording non-live audio like some sort of podcast, the entire joke/point is that he’s hypocritically doing exactly that. Or something.

Spoilers are generally not a great thing, but I actually like it in this case because knowing the ending means I get more out of all the moments that he’s building up to that. Like I can recognize him throwing in an unnecessary reference to the fact that it’s the middle of the night, and I can say, “No it isn’t. Ah, I see, I appreciate your clever ruse.” I don’t know why I’ve reached a point in my life at which the thing I most want to do with an entire day is listen to Daniel Kitson lie to me about what time it is, but there are worse things I could be doing.