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hermanunworthy · 10 months

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hiiii it’s me, blowing you a kiss and bringing you paragraphs on stab wounds <3

there’s a lot to talk to god about. grant isn’t particularly religious. his dad is, and he’s never had a bad experience with religion exactly. they baptized lincoln and they celebrate christmas and easter, but he’s never been the type to pray. you can get a lot of anger out at god yelling at other players online.

he talks to the doodler though. if you give the void a name, you can make it closer to a monster, create something that can be killed. grant believes it is going to kill him first. it’s important that no matter how unfair a fight it is, it is a fight. he used to think it should be comforting, that here was this one thing he couldn’t kill. that was before they had a son. now, it is man-circling-man, grant looking up into the sky every day and remembering when there was an eye to challenge him back.

when grant talks to the doodler, he is talking to something he believes will see the death of him. the others will be the one to kill it, with their magic and fate-twisting cards. it will take him, he’s only human. part of him loves it for that. grant isn’t particularly religious, but this god isn’t particularly holy.

kill me in the morning. I don’t want to live my last day in dread, worried it will be cut off at any moment. for my last day, I want to take in a breath and feel my lungs fully expand. the day before you kill me, I want to not be afraid. I want to feel and for that feeling to just be good. I want to have one moment where I’m laughing, and it’s like there’s a golden ball of light filling me up so completely, the whole world looks bathed in sunlight through my eyes.

I miss the sun.

lark remembers when his mind was his own place. glued at the hip to sparrow, shouting together fighting together looks exchanged so often they may have been swapping eyes entirely, but they were still separate people. then they woke up one morning in an inn and pulled some adult’s robe over themselves, and lark couldn’t say which one of them was on top anymore, who sat on whose shoulders, and it was the strangest experience, to settle into the personhood of a prophecy. it was fun, it was a game, watch the people fight! have everyone else support the battle to come that will make you the bravest heroes! conquer this world and achieve the greatness that hums so close to the surface beneath your skin you can never stay still.

after they became the lord of chaos, they could not move out of each other’s minds. there was a time lark was fifteen when it twisted into a sudden panic, the realization he could not get away. he tried- teenagers want to be independent, to grow up, to be different. this destiny suffocated him. when he was younger he had so much power. he could have done anything. the slant lines narrowed, the church of the doodler chanted, the knife he ended the world with was buried in the same yard as their dog. he would never be anything else. he would never have done anything else. he had to fix it. he had to live like this. he could have done anything and now this was all he would ever do.

lark did not like apologizing. every day he spends alive after what he did to his father, he spends as an apology. he hates apologizing- the shorter, the better. when lark talks to the doodler, he is talking to himself, for being the thing that fucked the universe so spectacularly it tore into two other realms.

I will eat you alive. I have it in me to drive the knife in shallowly, to watch you writhe and rot. it’s you and me at the end of all things. I will kill you. I don’t have a choice. you poisoned everything in my world and swept my childhood up into your apocalypse when I was way too young. you have bred your own enemy. I will watch them bury you in the yard and my father will love you enough to do it beneath the tree. I will kill you with the power you gave me and then you will stop hurting my brother.

I saw what was in you. you never grow up.

anon im gonna be so real w u i woke up at like 3am just now feeling absolutely terrible and when i saw i had a new minific in my inbox it really helped me feel better. ur writing is so brilliant its very inspiring to me esp now that im trying to get back into my own writing

#i love reading these sm theyre like little gifts #idk why theyre being given to me but i greatly appreciate it #i used to be a HUGE huge reader when i was younger (but since fell out of it) so i have a huge appreciation for creative writing #whoever u are writer anon hope ur doing well and keep writing!! u have a lotta talent #and ty for making my night (morning?) better. even though these paragraphs were devastating lmao #dndads #dndads fanfic #dndads fic #writer anon #<- gonna use this tag for these minifics so i can go back and read them again later #siren says #answering asks

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igglemouse · 11 months

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Get to Know Me - Sims Edition

I was tagged by @autonomousllama and @cactusblossom, thank you both for tagging me and I guess I am getting at this late but here it is!

What’s your favourite Sims death?

The old age death because it means a sim has lived like and are gently passing on! I also love that they give a little salute like “It was fun while it lasted but PEACE!” if I have a chance to give a salute and famous last words before I die I know I would!

Alpha CC or Maxis Match?

Maxis Match not because it looks better but because it blends in with the game.

Do you cheat your sims weight?

Never!

Do you use move objects?

I imagine it is hard not to when you are a competitive sims player lol.

Favourite Mod?

Hmmm, this is hard. I will say Wicked Whims though. I know, I know, you all think i’m super horny over here but really sex is a big part of life it is, one can argue, one of the most important aspects of life itself as one must have sex to create life (kind of at least) so WW really expands on that. Just get rid of the sex animations it adds, ignore that completely, it still adds an indepth menstrual system, attraction system, fertility system, etc!

WW actually determines how many kids my sims will have for example since some are naturally more fertile than others so yeah!

2nd place is MC Command which is great for just having more control. I mostly use that to make over townies when I see them lol.

First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack?

The first one they released? It was either Luxury party or the camping one right? Whichever was the first one lol.

Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing?

DO IT LIVE! **** IT! WE’LL DO IT LIVE!

Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made?

Oooh, I actually don’t make many sims since I play legacy and just rely on genetics but I will say Araceli! I made her when I relaunched a legacy and I spent so much time on her! I loved her! I thought of bringing her back in some form so we might not have seen the last of her actually!

Have you made a simself?

I have for the fun of it but i’ve never played it. I hardly make myself in games. I just always think of a character I guess.

Which is your favorite EA hair color?

Dark brown.

Favorite EA hair?

If you go back I had a vampire in my story named Edda, she wears it. It’s the real short one but ummm, the short one. Most people know by now I do love short hair lol

(EDIT: Not sure why I referenced Edda...Laverne wears this hairstyle lol. There, that is a more recent sim)

Favorite life stage?

Young Adult! EA just put all the fun in that phase though.

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?

I am not that good at building...

Are you a CC creator?

I’ve made poses years ago!

Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad?

I have simblr friends but part of no squad. I feel like a mostly outsider or lone wolf in the simblr community but im nice to everyone!

Do you have any sims merch?

I WISH!

How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing?

I don’t think it has honestly lol.

What’s your origin id?

Igglemouse!

Who’s your favorite CC creator?

Hmmm, I don’t know!

How long have you had simblr?

Since 2014 since the game launched in 2014 and I literally had a post the first day it launched.

You can even see this post here!

https://igglemouse.tumblr.com/post/96447498872/this-is-lourdes-fuentes-my-very-first-sim-in-sims

I’ve been a Sims 4 OG as the kids would like to say and my simblr has really flunctuated in all that time. I’ve had posts getting 100s of likes to now just around 10 lol, I’ve come full circle!

It’s kind of sad because @floofymilk-blog was a real good online friend I had known for years and she was someone you saw constantly liking my posts and commenting at first and she has completely disappeared from like...everything. So yeah T_T, from discord, from steam, from switch, and I always wonder what happened to her and seeing that post and seeing her in the notes there just makes me sad but...she was the biggest AC fan I’ve ever known T_T and a big Sims fan too!

She was Japanese and disappeared before the release of Snowy Escape and I wonder if she would have loved that pack :/

How do you edit your pictures?

I used to do A LOT more but honestly, I just gave up lol. Now I just use a reshade, add a border, and move on. Lazy, I guess? But I’m posting legacy content. What is called a Plotacy. If I hung up on editing every single picture it would slow me down a ton. You can see the story content I tried it was a lot more edited!

What expansion/ gamepack is your favorite?

Hmmmmmm seasons, yeah, Seasons!

I will tag @joannebernice - @mysimsloveaffair - @wolfavens - @wannabecatwriter - @lollipopsimblr - @thereesespiece

If you have done it already or dont want to no worries!

#reply #replies

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rustedskyprisms · 4 months

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I am so, so sorry for ever internalizing, believing, and parroting that “if you talk about having trouble connecting to a lot of other women, you must hate them/want male approval” mentality. But that was when I was a teenager and really heavily influenced by tumblr shit. But I’m saying I’m sorry because that’s such bullshit. You cannot simplify someone’s personal problems and experiences like that. And the idea that this always connects back to men, or wanting their approval, or that you’re just “not supportive of other women” is stupid.

And it’s funny that I held that belief when it’s a sentiment I myself can relate to. And it has nothing to do with “seeing women as a monolith”, “getting along better with men”, or whatever. So that’s what I’m saying.

But also, this shit about “a woman with no female friends is a red flag”-I genuinely think it’s very weird to say things like that if you do not know the person in question. If anyone sees women as a monolith, it’s you. To you, the only reason a woman would ever hang out with men is because she values them more, or wants their approval. Are you projecting? Yeah, there totally are women who are super annoying and hate other women; this post is obviously not about them.

Also, I don’t think you can go on about how rough gender roles are for women, and then fail to understand that, if a woman doesn’t fit those roles, really, any “acceptable” roles or ideals in society, yeah, there’s probably going to be a disconnect there.

I just hate how women get simplified. “All women have experienced this”, “all women can relate to this”. Because yeah, I cannot relate to most of those experiences, but if you say that, then you’re making shit about yourself. But you’re literally making blanket statements. Also, I just love when people imply that all women know what It’s like to have female friends they can rely on. Because….yeah. That is not everyone’s experience.

I’m just going to say it though, I think one of the reasons I got so into online spaces that were dominated by women for a while was because I wanted to fit in. There was like a weird thing there, that connects to me really struggling irl with this-I can’t articulate it right now. Maybe one day I’ll figure it out.

I feel like I’m stirring up a hornet’s nest any time I even discuss this subject. So yeah I usually don’t even say anything. And that actually bothers me because I do think it’s important to talk about this stuff. It’s not always what you think. Like I really do believe that before you jump into getting angry, or taking something like that personally, you should ask the other woman why she’s saying that/feels that way. And if you get some response like “guys are less drama/are funnier/cooler/etc”……okay yeah then that’s the type of person who is a complete idiot. If you get a very in depth, personal explanation, even if you disagree with it, I still think you should hear them out. Especially if you yourself are always going on about how women should support each other.

I don’t know, it’s just bizarre to me how so many adults cannot grasp that this stuff is complicated, and very, very heavily influenced by societal rules/expectations. I’d throw in how attractive you’re considered too, but uh, yeah I’m not touching that with a ten foot pole. This really articulates a lot though, in my experience: “There are feminist circles made up mostly of women who have never had a problem with being accepted by other women, and their ideas about how girls and women treat each other are very influential. The things is that they don’t realize that how other women treat them and how other girls treated them growing up isn’t universal. They’re unaware that they aren’t accepted just because they’re women but because they’re able to check off a number of conditions that signal to other women that they “belong.” One of the more important conditions is being able to do femininity the right way. They’re unaware that there’s a huge difference between women who can do femininity the right way and choose to subvert it for feminist reasons versus women who can’t do it the right way at all, and that difference has a huge impact on how other women treat you. A lot of these women are probably well intentioned, but that doesn’t make it okay that their viewpoints, which erase women who are marginalized in ways they aren’t, have become so mainstream.”

I have experienced this firsthand. These were almost always the exact women in these online spaces. Your experiences are not universal. Stop thinking they are and projecting that on to other people. And that’s one of the biggest reasons I left-it became very clear to me that there is a “right way” to go about or experience things to a lot of these people. I feel very out of place in a lot of feminist spaces, but I feel like you just cannot say shit like that. You must have internalized misogyny if you do, right?

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neko-rogers · 4 years

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All I Ever Need

Peter warned you about the dangers of online dating.

words: 4,007

tags: dark!peter parker, strong and explicit non-consensual elements, manipulation, implications of sex-pollen or drugging, lowkey breeding kink

a/n: please forgive me! i’m still new to writing dark!versed fics <3 but this was a request and i couldn’t resist (: if you liked this then you are free to help me out and improve my writing by leaving feedback or suggesting prompts that i could write about

It was emotionally crushing.

The moment you decided to create a Tinder account led you to all sorts of feelings.

As someone who had been busy with your final year of college, you never thought of engaging much in the relationships territory. With all these, you could only focus on finally graduating and obtaining a stable job. The idea that you were providing for yourself, without having to depend on a significant other, was fulfilling.

It did not help further considering that most of your group of friends were just as hardworking as you. Peter Parker was one the closest and much more than just a good influence. Truly too good to be true.

Nonetheless, you finally tried out those infamous dating applications you have been hearing. Despite warnings from your friends about how dangerous it can be, you were confident that you were smart enough to handle it.

“You're still hung up on that app?” Peter interrupts alongside.

The professor dismissed the class moments ago, and at least half of the people already exited the room. As always, Peter waited for you before heading for next subject.

Admittedly, you were a bit caught up with your phone. Swiping left and right sounded boring, but for some reason you found it amusing how convenient it can be – the interaction and messages was a bonus. “So what if I am?”

You lock your phone before Peter got to snoop further. Both your reflections could be seen amongst the black screen as you placed it on top of your other textbooks to be carried.

“Any interaction online is dangerous,” he explains. “I thought you out of all people should know that, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes at his remark. “You’re only a year older than me yet you sound like my dad. You know I’m already twenty-two, right?”

“I’d hate to be the one to say I told you so when your world comes crashing down,” he consoles.

“Oh thats bullshit, Parker.” You could almost laugh at his sense of ridicule. “Like you said, I’m smart. I’m sure I’ll be able to handle online dating. Have faith in me, yeah?”

“Yeah, whatever. It’s fine.” Peter nods, still beside as you walked along the hallway. “It’s not like you’re already going on a date with one of them, right.” His assumption comes off as a statement rather than a question.

However, you stay quiet seeming as it was best to leave it unanswered.

“Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re seeing someone already.” Peter looks back when you decided to stay a meter behind him to save you from the guilt.

“It’s just a second date, it won’t harm me,” you defended. “Plus, he goes to the community college nearby.” “What?! You two are already on your second date before you told me, or anyone of your friends?” You could understand where his temper was coming from, but in the end, it was none of their business.

“I know, but I just thought it wasn’t a big deal. Besides this is about me and Jacob.”

Fortunately enough, you and Peter have the same subject which was BioChemistry. This time, he followed you behind while you avoided his gaze. He waited until you took a seat along the second to the last row, and then taking his seat next to you.

You look straight, facing the chalkboard displayed at the farther side of the room. Though you could not see Peter entirely, you could see his glowering look by the corner of your eye. “So his name his Jacob, huh, tell me more about him.”

This was the reason why you could not update him, or any of your friends. You knew this would happen. They begin getting so nosy around your life before they even realize it.

Surely, you did love your friends, much more the boy sitting next to you. They have been with you since freshman year, and you were more than grateful for one another’s support.

“Peter, I don’t think that whatever I tell you would concern you,” you state clearly to avoid a dragging conversation.

“But we care about you, I care about you, Y/N.” He pouts, “The moment he tries to hurt you, you’ll run back to us and cry about it. I just want to skip seeing that part knowing I can’t see you heartbroken.”

You furrow your eyebrows. His statement comes off as a bit acquisitive, but you knew that it was just his concern caught up in the moment. “That’s the problem. We all need to eventually fail or feel pain. It’s normal, especially for young adults like us, Peter!”

There was a lot of things you wanted to say now. He trigged you somehow and now you’re at the edge of becoming a rambling mess. The worst part of it was that you were scared that you might say something that you would not be able to take back.

“Okay then I’ll–”

“No look, I apologize for raising my voice.” You sighed to calm yourself down and compose your thoughts better. “You know I adore you so much, Peter. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But this can’t be forever, I’ll eventually have to learn how to deal with these kinds of stuff.”

You got through barely half of your day yet you could already feel the emotional turn of having an argument with one of your best friends.

And eventually, your professor entered the room. Barely giving the two of you a moment to continue the heated conversation just seconds ago. The displeased look on Peter’s face remained as he looked in front, acknowledging that both of you took lectures seriously. He wanted to pick up this argument at another setting.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

"Congrats to your first ever anniversary!” Your friends applaud just as Jacob was seated next to you.

“We’re so proud of you.”

“You two look so happy together!”

“Both of you look amazing, practically perfect for each other.”

“Can’t believe it’s already been a year.”

A year has passed, your group of friends remained even so with Peter. In addition, they learned to accept your boyfriend despite their doubts on online dating sites and applications.

Just as they learned to trust your decisions more, you also learned way more about your significant other. Though despite your differences in fields, you learned to love him more than you thought you could.

All of you have freshly graduated from college. Most of your friends did not have much planned so far; however, as your friendship with Peter remained, he grew to understand your feelings more and handled it sensitively.

After your argument during your early days of dating Jacob, he eventually apologized for his behavior too. Though that was not the only time your friendship with him was put to a test. After the succeeding months, Peter still gave feint warnings and acted a bit overprotective when you tried telling him how you wanted to take your relationship to another level and get more serious.

Nonetheless, you did not let any of your peers affect your view upon your relationship. Seeing that you were now at your first anniversary, you were happy that you followed what your heart and gut believed in.

“To be honest we didn’t expect our Y/N to be getting into a relationship before we graduate, let alone celebrating her first anniversary!” Liz joked. “But in the end, just know that we love you and we’re here for you.”

You smiled, looking at your friends who seemed to share the same feeling. After graduation, everything feels too good. It feels as if your life was falling into place.

Not only have you gotten into a relationship with a kind guy. You also attained high ranks among the other students in your program, which led to companies offering you internships right off the bat. Rather than you worrying about where you’re heading to after college, you got the privilege to pick what you wanted to do.

Surprisingly, you got an offer from the Stark Industries to become an internship on being their analytical chemist. It was the most tempting offer you got. Who would not accept an opportunity like that, right?

When you learned that Peter also got an offer, you were more than happy for him. You knew he was one of the smartest persons in class and he deserved it just as you did.

Both your contracts agreed that the internship starts a month from now which was just perfect, considering that you also have a few things to do prior to it.

“Well, this girl also has a lot planned ahead,” you announce while catching the attention of your friends that were circled around you. “Me and Jacob were talking about moving in probably in his apartment by the end of the month.”

Your intention was not to brag. Everyone could see how genuinely excited you were with such a big event. You were just so happy that despite what every one thought your relationship would end, you accepted whether the outcome would be good or bad.

Your friends cheered at you for taking a big step into your relationship. Looking back, you were so scared to accept the second date, but little by little you could not notice how much progress has been done.

“I am so thankful for you guys.” You smiled and nodded at them before looking to your side where Jacob happily watched you interact with your friends. You slung your arm over his chest and planted a kiss directly at his lips.

“We’re always here for you, Y/N,” Peter added along with a smile.

Unbeknownst to you, just as your friends had left the celebration, you had big news yet to hear.

As you drape your purse over one shoulder, your boyfriend assisted you out. He held one side of the door for you and walked after you. He held onto the side of your waist until both of you reached his car.

Like the gentleman he is, he went over to the passenger side to open the car door for you before doing the same for himself at the driver’s side.

When both of you were finally inside the car, Jacob had not started the car immediately. He paused with fingers gripping around the edges of the steering wheel.

His sigh was just as evident, hearing it echo around the car which left chills across your skin as you looked at him. “You seem bothered. What’s wrong?”

He avoided to look at you just as both of your hands reach for one of his. He lets you toy with his fingers yet his gaze still directs straight at the gas pedal. You lean further to catch a glimpse of him, moving one hand to cup his cheek. “Hey, what’s bugging you, babe? I’m here to listen.”

“I’m sorry,” he starts off. The puzzled look on your face apparent as to what he’s trying to apologize for.

“What do you mean?”

“I just don’t think you deserve to stay with someone like me.”

His self-loathing was not settling your confusion in any way at all. “I still don’t get it.” You did have an assumption in mind, but you chose not to jump into it as it might flare up on what’s happening now.

“I think we need to break up,” Jacob swiftly drops.

Slowly, you pull back and rest your back against the window. You bring a hand up to brush the little fringes in front of your face. You were trying to comprehend everything that’s happening. “I don’t understand. Why so sudden?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, Y/N–”

“Then what should I get?” Your voice starts to crack as you hold back the tears. “I don’t understand anything at all! You seemed so happy a couple of hours ago.”

“That’s why I’m apologizing,” he softly explains. “You don’t deserve me, I’ve been so horrible to you–”

“You have been so nice to me. I don’t know where you’re getting all of this, at all!” Eventually, tears could not help but form around the corners of your eyes.

Jacob sighs, finally looking at you. “You deserve so much more than this, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Finally, the tears began to spill. You covered both your eyes with your palms, trying to both hide and wipe them away. “Y-you can’t just break up with me after celebrating our first anniversary.”

“I’m sorry–” “Stop saying that,” you sniffed. You did not know what annoyed you more, hearing him apologize like a broken record or hearing him imply the ‘its not you, it’s me and you deserve more’ bullshit. “You’re too cruel.”

“I’ll drive you to your house,” he offers. The look on his face seemed very guilty. You did not know what was behind these sudden turn of events, but either way you were heartbroken for how

“No,” you stated. “Uhm, I have a friend who lives nearby. You can drop me off there.”

“Okay.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

“That’s pretty much my night in a nutshell,” you sighed as Peter entered his room with a blanket and some clothes in hand.

Your legs were cross-seated over his bed as your hid your face with your hands. Peter frowned as he walked over to the edge of his bed where you were positioned. “I just don’t understand why he dumped me all of a sudden, might I add, dumped me on our first anniversary!”

You felt a hand over your back, rubbing slow and comforting strokes as you continued to cry. “Just as I thought I was getting to know him better.”

It was emotionally crushing.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Well.” You look up at him despite knowing your nose eyes eyelids became swollen, “You can finally tell me that you told me so.”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” His hands move to the ends of your hair, toying with the strands before turning half of his body aside. He reaches for a mug that situated on top of his nightstand, “Here. I brought you a cup of tea.”

“Thanks, but I’m not really thirsty–”

“Drink,” he calmly says. “You need to get hydrated after crying.”

You could not argue with that. You’ve definitely lost a lot of water in your body after hours of just crying, without drinking anything. “You know me so well.” you told him and added, “I should’ve just listened to you when you warned me about strangers online.”

“I guess I owe you an apology.”

Peter chuckled at your statement and watched you as your lips slowly sipped at the heated tea he had just prepared. “No need to be sorry about anything now, I’m just glad you’re safe. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Don’t worry he didn’t physically touch me,” you assure as he nods.

The adorable boy in front of you slyly looked down as he called for your name. “Y/N? Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Peter.”

“Why’d you choose to stop by my place amongst our other friends.”

You finally finish the entire drink he had prepared. Before you could answer him, you extended your arm in order to set the fragile mug back on top of his bed side drawer.

“Well for one, I still know where your place was, and it was closest from the restaurant,” you answered. “And conveniently enough, you were the first person I could think of after Jacob hurt my feelings.”

“I could vividly remember your warnings just as I realized he was breaking up with me already. I didn’t know whether to feel sad or ashamed. What I do know was that you knew me too well, even before I became fully aware of it.”

He smiled at your answer, and you gave the same look at him. “Well I’m glad you thought of me.” His hands reach over to yours and places them on top, feeling the warmth of his body over yours. “I would never want to hurt you, nor let you feel the pain Jacob gave you.”

“You’re too sweet.” You smile.

Your hands rubbed circles around your eyes first. Then you tried to lean in front, opening your arms wide signaling for a hug. Peter did not hesitate to hug you back, enveloping his arms while both of you rest your chins on top of each other’s shoulders.

From this angle, you could strongly scent his cologne. However, that was not the only thing you could observe.

As each second passes, you were not sure if you were the only one who could notice how hot the room was getting. Either that or that your skin was starting to burn up. “Peter?”

“Don’t you think it’s getting hot–”

As you were just about to react, you felt a pair of lips against yours. Peter had pulled back, and even when you could have realized it, he was pinning you down as your back presses against his bed.

And as much as this was entirely contradicting your morals, you did not feel an ounce of guilt as one of your best friends continued to leave kisses down your neck. You were not entirely sure why your mind was doubting this, but your body was suddenly, badly craving for touch – and Peter was conveniently doing you the favor.

“Don’t I think it’s getting what?” Peter sits up and teases just as he pulls his shirt over his shoulders.

“Nothing,” you groan. “But I don’t think this is a good idea–”

He shushes you, “Relax. Let me take care of you, yeah?

His hands gently released heir grip around your wrists. He was confident enough that you wouldn’t fight back after finishing the drink he exclusively brewed for you.

Your state of mind was perfectly right where he expected it to be. Just conscious enough to feel him against you, but incapable of thinking rationally.

He just hated how smart you were when it came to his friends and school; however, just as he expects, you were not as quick-witted when it came to relationships.

And hiring Jacob was definitely one of his greatest achievements so far. He lost a part of his savings along the way, but nothing could ever become as valuable as you. Now that you were in his room, let alone under his touch, he had the upper hand.

Peter was not letting you go that easy afterwards.

For now, he continues to leave kisses under your jaw while your hands lazily combs through the locks of his hair. He proudly hums against your skin after leaving gentle nibbles that started to leave evident love marks.

One of his hands creep under your shirt, reaching to unhook your bra. As he successfully does, he moves to adjust your shirt over your breasts. He gets a good view of them even without having to pull it over your head, smirking to himself as this has been a fantasy he has been dreading for.

“Fuck you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmurs. With one hand, he gently squeezes around one of your breasts just as he descends at your body.

“Peter,” your moan comes from above his head just as he was ready to spread your legs.

“Yeah, babe?”

“C-condom,” you mumbled with eyelids partially open.

He chuckled as a response, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

Peter tried to test the waters first to make sure he was completely in control of this situation. He drags the tip of his fingers across your stomach, further narrowing the path down as it reached at the entrance of your cunt.

He could instantly sense how wet you have become throughout his teasing. Both his middle and ring finger grew damper as he inserted them inch by inch, slowly seeing them reappear.

The warmth radiating around your walls excites him more, assuming how good you would be while his cock was wrapped around it. He instinctively curls his fingers out of excitement, forgetting that he was trying to handle you gently.

You react by tightening around it, along with a whine.

“Sorry, babe.”

Moreover, he continues it up until he felt his erection grow harden than before. He made sure he was completely hard before finally dropping both your pants down, attending to yours first until you were completely naked – excluding the shirt he did not haul over your head.

Next was his turn. He undid his shorts and threw them away ever so quickly. Then rushed to welcome himself between the space of your legs. “You ready for me, babe?” He did not leave a choice despite asking that either way. You remained helpless under him.

“Hmm,” was your only response.

Peter did not hesitate as he glides into you. He groans at your heat, grasping that you feel better now compared to when he was using his fingers. “Oh shit,” he groans while speeding up the pace of his thrusts, “you feel so good.”

“That’s it, holy fuck.” He was surprised at how responsive your body was still. Despite drugging you to the extent of being mentally incapable, your body was contracting all over him as if it was enjoying itself.

He continued to praise your body even if you could not understand what he was saying. The entire event revolved around him fucking you and leaving sweet remarks as if he was your boyfriend – and not, at all, a friend who laced your drink and made you believe you were somewhere safe.

Though Peter did say he was going to care for you. Ironically, it was obvious that all he can think about now is chasing his orgasm and nutting inside you. After all, it was one of his dark and twisted fantasies – to have full control over you, at least.

There were few moans coming from you, but the happy noises being created by Peter overpowers. With all of this, sexual, tension he finally got to release, it was expected that he was going to cum sooner.

“Fuck,” and other swears came from him. “Didn’t expect to cum so soon.”

As he did not care about your take on this, he also did not give a fuck when he was planning to cum inside you. Since he purposely avoided to wear any kind of protection, let alone learn if you were in any kind of birth control, anyone in their right mind would know what could happen the morning after.

Willfully, he made sure to go deeper inside you until he could feel the tip of his cock twitch as a sign that he was going to cum. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, yeah,” he grunts as if you were going to reply. “And you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are.”

Even so, when Peter finally felt his release, he took a good look at you beneath. You seemed hot and bothered, but not as him. Your chest was heaving all the while he could feel the speed of the beating of his heart.

When he steadily pulls out, the awaited moment of his deep, dark fantasies finally arise. He could clearly see his own cum beautifully spilling out of your cunt like a cream pie. He could almost feel himself get turned on just at the sigh of it, but he considered that round two’s with you would be saved for next time.

“Peter?” “Hmm?”

“I still feel hot,” you purr.

Peter extends his arm to gently place the back of his hand over your forehead, feeling how feverish your body still was. There were few hints of sweat streaming from your forehead. “Let me take care of you, I’ll just run you a bath, okay?”

You childishly smile and agree with him, “O-okay.” He pulls back to be able to properly stand and proceeds to head to his shower with a huge smile from his face.

You were his.

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sarahreesbrennan · 3 years

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You wrote on twitter that you were too young to be published and did fool things you later regretted. I'm curious about those regrets - is there anything you'd be willing to elaborate on?

I do want to clarify I meant I personally was probably too young, and I wasn't a babe in arms when I was published--I was 24, which is an adult! S.E. Hinton was 18 when her first book was published and she arguably invented young adult fiction. Jennifer Lynn Barnes was a teenager when her first book was published and she's always been a genius rock star. Some people are married and having kids and doing great at their jobs at 24, but some people are in college, or learning the ropes of their jobs and full-time work life in general and messing up because it still feels unfamiliar. Most of us, me included, will be making messes until we die, though we can hope for better messes.

My regrets aren't super secret--I would've conducted myself differently online and offline. One thing I've said before: I wouldn't link up my real name and my fanfic identity the way I did back when. That means having your juvenilia out there and judged, and yourself judged in a very particular way! It is hard to sit in the doctor's office and ask him for written proof you have cancer, because the internet will accuse you of faking it. (Yes that did happen. That poor man's face was like, 'Girl, why do you not live your life right.') As I've said, I have an assistant-with-antis who filters my social media and email so I don't have to come upon hostile stuff, and I do wonder if there are ways to inspire less hostility.

But to be clear regarding that example, I think fandom is awesome in many ways, and it's valuable to say you wrote fanfiction, just don't get too specific. One of my most cherished facts about a (fancy, brilliant, very bestselling) writer friend is that she wrote Sonic the Hedgehog fanfiction once. Many of my writer friends used to or still do write it! (Fanfic in general... I'm not outing a bunch of writers as avid Sonic fans...) And being open about my identity did mean I had some beautiful supportive readers from the jump, who were sweet to me and made friends with each other (Marmalade fish shoutout). I love that people connect over fiction, and that they connected over mine. My advice to others is to do it like Oscar winner Chloe Zhao, and be like 'yes I write it, yes the call is coming from inside the building, yes creative engaged people engage creatively in many ways, no you'll never know my online name!' And that's mostly how it's done these days--there are masses of fanfiction writers in TV, in movies, working as editors and agents in publishing, and who are writers, because people who are passionate about creativity are passionate about creativity in many ways. A decade ago and nobody was sure how it was going to go: I do think it went well generally, if uneasily for test balloons like me.

Overall, as regards regrets, if you're alive, you're making mistakes, and if you're growing, you're learning from them. Often the more you care, the more mistakes you make. There are some things only life experience can teach you, and I've seen people who came into writing with experience from being, for instance, lawyers which they were able to use in many ways, and there were times I wished I'd acquired experience or lost naivety in a job that wasn't my dream job. Sometimes I really didn't know what was going on, and later I was like 'Ohhh! Oh Lord.' I would say a few things I wish I'd known: How to draw boundaries like circles of salt that others couldn't cross. The personal and the professional are going to blur, but it's still important to try and differentiate them. How to pick your battles: recognise the unwinnable, find the most likely strategy for victory with the winnable ones. Know that people won't like you just because you're making life more convenient for them, so don't do it for that reason. OMG abide by contracts and make sure the contracts cover every eventuality. Learn the art of standing your ground calmly. (One day, I'll get it.)

But getting published at any age is complicated: I have one friend who was sure she was going to die after she got her publishing contract because it was her dream accomplished, and what was left? I have more life experience in my 30s, but I also had most of those years totally slain by cancer: my writing went off a cliff long before I was diagnosed, and then I couldn't write, and since then I've been scrambling. If I'd been published first at 30 I might have handled myself in style, but there definitely wouldn't have been two trilogies before the long pause. One very lovely, very talented lady who was first published in the same year I was died shortly after. You don't know what's coming: Margaret Mitchell was hit by a speeding drunk driver and we'll never know if rumours she planned to write a sequel to Gone with the Wind are true. The people whose first books were out in 2020 had a tough time, and I would've freaked out if I'd been in their position and am glad I didn't have a non-tie-in novel out--it was very strange to have two tie-ins out that year as it was! People were reading books in 2020, but it was harder for new books to get on their radar.

I didn't write the tweet to alarm anyone, or say there was a magical time it was best to be published at. Lots of amazing writers aren't published, are published feeling they're too young, are published feeling they're too old. I think my tweet was really to say, there's no precise right time, and no way to execute your dreams exactly right. I do look back on stuff and think, oh lord, me at 30 might have handled THAT better. I hope that I'll look back at me now from 50 and go, I'd crush the stuff that crushed her!

Are there things I would change, sure. But I probably would make different mistakes if it had all happened differently for me. Humans constantly torment ourselves imagining the magic way we could've got everything right, a task exactly nobody has accomplished. I've never lived a perfect life or written a perfect book, and I don't know anyone else who has. I'm really glad I was published, and really proud of all my books. If you've never done something you've regretted, how much have you done? Keep going.

#stumbling through publication #writing #fanfiction

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aliwritesfic · 3 years

Text

First Date (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader)

Summary: Frankie only downloaded Tinder after Santi basically forced him to one night, and he never expected to actually meet anyone on there.

Word count: 2.4k

Content warnings: Oral (F receiving), P in V, age gap, online dating, condom used

(I haven’t written creatively in almost 7 years so if this is a waste of time I apologise, also tagging @absurdthirst because i sent them an anon last night about being nervous to post this lmao)

Frankie looked at your photo again and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. He wasn’t used to this whole online dating thing, and he certainly hadn’t expected to meet anyone on it. Pope swore by it for one-night stands and fuck buddies, and practically forced him to download the app and create a profile while they were all at their favourite bar and Benny had gone home with some girl. He’d swiped right on only a few people and made even less matches. Any conversations he’d had on there fizzled out after a few hours after telling them he didn’t have Snapchat, or Facebook, or Twitter, or anything else like that.

Then he’d matched with you.

Your profile was simple – a couple selfies, a photo on a hike with a beautiful staffy, and a group shot on a night out. Your bio was short and sweet – criminal justice and community welfare student, intersectional feminist, nerd. Lover of cheesy one liners and bad jokes.

Frankie had swiped right almost immediately. The only thing that gave him pause was the age gap – twelve years between you. There were bigger gaps, of course, but he’d never dated anyone more than two years younger.

“You’re both grown adults,” Pope said looking over his shoulder, “what the fuck are you waiting for?”

So, with that, Frankie swiped right and was instantly greeted with a match. His stomach jumped again as you sent the first message, a simple but effective ‘hey, what do teachers and ancient history have in common? They both Babylon!’

You both chatted for a few more days before Frankie decided enough was enough. He asked you out for dinner and drinks at a local sushi place that had recently opened. He felt ill as he waited for your reply, wondering if it was too soon. It was almost an hour later that you replied ‘YES! How’s fri at 8:30 sound?’

It was a date. His first in over a year. The boys had come over to help him get ready, feeling like he was in high school all over again.

Frankie stood outside the restaurant, wishing he hadn’t left his cap in the truck, or at least wishing he’d picked somewhere that didn’t seem like it had an unwritten dress code. But he’d wanted to impress, and the reviews of this place had been positive.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside and moved towards the hostess. “Table for two, under Morales.”

“Right this way sir,” the hostess smiled at him and led him towards a table near the back, and Christ you were already there.

You were even more beautiful in person, in a tight dark dress, heels and a denim jacket thrown over the back of your chair. You were reading the menu, a small frown on your face as you squinted at it. You didn’t even notice him approach until he was standing right next to you. When you looked up, your mouth transforming into a grin, his heart skipped a beat.

“Frankie?” You said, your name sounding like heaven on your lips. Frankie sat down opposite you, his palms suddenly sweaty.

“Hey,” he went to say your name and you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“Please, everyone I like calls me Sunny,” you grinned at him and he knew exactly why.

“Well, Sunny,” Frankie felt himself grin back at you, “it’s nice to finally meet you properly.”

“I’ve been so nervous all day,” you admitted, “but a good nervous, like nervous excited. I was supposed to be making notes on one of my lectures today, but I couldn’t stop thinking about this date. It’s been so long since I’ve been on one, I just stressed myself out about it all day.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Frankie laughed, relieved to know that the insanely beautiful woman in front of him was just as out of sorts as he was. He was beginning to feel more at ease with you already, something he hadn’t felt with someone new in a long while.

The waitress arrived then, beaming down at you as she asked if you were ready to order. Frankie ordered a plate of sashimi and a spicy crab roll, while you got a veggie roll, and you both ordered a shot of soju.

“Don’t like fish?”

You shrugged, “I’m allergic, not like deathly or anything but I get a rash and a really bad stomach ache. It sucked when I was travelling through Asia a few years ago.”

Frankie frowned, instantly regretting even suggesting the restaurant in the first place. “We can go somewhere else if you like,” he suggested, ready to do anything he could to make this a perfect first date.

“Oh god, no!” You smiled and Frankie’s stomach jumped. “I’ve been wanting to come here for a while now, so when you suggested it, of course I was gonna say yes.”

Frankie felt a little relieved at that, and you two talked for a while, waiting for your meals. He found out your dog was called Lola, you loved old music, and you were a disability support worker before your close cousin went to prison and you decided to enrol in university to study criminal justice. You found out he was a pilot, ex-military and he loved classic lit.

You continued to talk through your meal and several more drinks. He was beginning to deeply enjoy the sound of your voice, your laugh. You made him feel like you two were the only people in the room, everyone else was insignificant.

Eventually though, you both felt it was time to give up your table to someone actually paying. You tried to pay for your own meal and drinks, but Frankie insisted on paying. You both walked outside into the chilly night air, and Frankie couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you were even under the streetlights. You cleared your throat and Frankie noticed a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I uh, I don’t really want this night to end, do you?” you asked. Frankie decided to do what he could feel himself wanting to do all night.

He stepped forward, closing the gap between you as he cupped your soft cheeks in his rough, calloused hands and kissed you. Your reaction was almost immediate, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair, pressing your bodies together. Your tongue darted along his bottom lip and he instantly granted you access, his own tongue sliding into your mouth. He wanted you. Desperately.

“Do you want to come back to mine,” Frankie asked, his hands slid down to your waist, he kissed along your neck, feeling your pulse flutter under his lips. You moaned softly as his mouth found your collarbone.

“Yes,” you whispered, “god yes.”

He kissed you again, before breaking away to lead you back to his truck.

“How far?” you asked.

“Five minutes,” Frankie said, resting his hand on your upper thigh where the hem of your dress ended. He felt himself tighten in his jeans as he thought about what he wanted to do to you. He driver faster than necessary, turning the journey into a quick three minutes. Once the truck was off you didn’t waste a moment, pulling yourself onto his lap, straddling him between your thighs. Your lips met his frantically, like you were both starving for each other.

Frankie’s hardness pressed against his jeans as you ground against him. He kissed down along your neck and jaw, relishing in your soft moans. One hand stayed planted firmly on your ass, the other snaked up your body to your breasts, pulling your dress down to expose them. You weren’t wearing a bra, and the sight of your breasts in the silver moonlight was irresistible. Frankie’s lips kissed a path down your neck to your collarbone, down further still until he had a hard nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over it gently, while his hand played with the other, rolling it around between his finger.

“Frankie,” you moaned, arching your back to give him better access. “Fuck.”

“You like that baby?” he whispered looking up at you. You whimpered in response as the hand on your breast moved down your body toward your thighs.

“Please,” you spread your legs a little further for him, and his fingers began to massage your clit though your soaking underwear. Frankie’s tongue continued to work at your nipple licking and sucking while you cried out in pleasure.

His fingers teased the outside of your entrance, his thumb working your clit in methodical circles.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, his voice husky. You moaned in response, unable to form any words as his fingers slid easily inside of you. Frankie watched your face as he fingered you, his own cock straining against his jeans. God he wanted to fuck you, but not until you’d already cum for him.

Frankie moved his thumb in faster circles and you began to fall apart. You clenched around his fingers, crying out as your body shook with your orgasm. He moved his mouth up to kiss you, whispering between kisses.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he groaned.

“We need to go inside,” you panted, your body still trembling slightly. Frankie couldn’t agree more, fumbling with the door of his truck, then his house keys. The moment the door was open you were on him, pulling his jacket off his shoulders, unzipping his jeans. Your bodies moved together in the direction of the kitchen, knocking something down in the process.

Frankie moaned into your mouth as your hands glided up his torso under his shirt. He pressed you against the counter and lifted you up, yanking your dress down to your ankles in the process.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered in your ear, “do you want that?”

“Yes, Frankie, please,” you begged, desperate for him to touch you. He grinned slyly as he crouched down slightly in front of you and spread your legs. The sight of your underwear, drenched with desire, made his mouth water.

Frankie didn’t want to waste a single moment more. With one quick move he slid your underwear down your legs and was working your clit with his tongue. Two fingers moved inside of you and quirked in a come-hither motion.

Your whine of pleasure spurred him on, his tongue massaging your clit expertly. Frankie wanted to tell you how good you tasted, how sexy you sounded, but he didn’t want to waste a moment that could be spent pleasuring you.

“Frankie!” you gasped, your back arching. Your thighs pressed into the side of his head and he moved faster, harder, cock aching with the need to be inside you.

“Frankie, I’m gonna-“ your words were cut short by your orgasm, this one somehow more intense than the one in his truck. Frankie looked up at your face as you came, mouth never leaving your sweet wetness. Your head hung back, moans the only sound you’re able to make. Licking his lips, Frankie stood and cupped the back of your head gently, lifting it so he can look in your eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve someone as beautiful as you come home with him, but he wants to make certain it’s worth your while.

He leant down and whispered your name, the sound sweet on his lips. You sat up and kissed him gently, tasting yourself on him.

“Where’s your bed?” you murmured and Frankie smiled against you. Without another word he picked you up easily, wrapping your legs around his waist and carried you to his room, laying you gently on the bed. You looked beautiful, naked in the moonlight, staring up at him with desire.

Frankie discarded the rest of his clothes and climbed onto the bed so he’s hovering over you. His fingers traced soft circles on your waist.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked

“I need you in me,” you reached up and pulled him closer, “I need you.”

Frankie reached over to his dresser and grabbed a condom, saying a silent thanks to his past self for buying them, and fitted it onto his shaft. Then he couldn’t wait a moment longer.

He lined himself up at your slick entrance, and slowly, gently, not wanting to hurt you with his larger than average size. You whimpered slightly as he pulled out, bucking your hips to stay closer to him.

Fuck you felt so good, you tight walls clenching slightly with each thrust. His thrusts became harder, slamming into you as his own ecstasy built. He moaned your name as you held onto his biceps, nails digging into his warm sweaty skin.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold off on his own release, and with you looking at him they way you were, you made it almost impossible to hold back. But no, he wouldn’t. Not until you came a third time for him. He needed to feel you cum with his cock inside you.

Frankie moved his hand so it was between you both, and began to massage your slick, swollen clit. You cried out and clenched his biceps harder, and he felt the moment you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer, your walls tightening around his cock, coating it with your pleasure.

“Cum, Frankie,” you whispered in his ear, and god he wanted to. Frankie grunted as he finally couldn’t hold back any longer. Pleasure flushed through his body as he came to the sound of you moaning his name. In that moment, the only tangible things were his orgasm, the feel of you and your voice. It was a few moments before his thoughts became coherent again. He had never experienced pleasure like that with any other woman.

Reluctantly, he pulled out of you, noticing a bead of sweat that had formed between your breasts. Your eyes were half closed, but you watched him as he discarded the condom into a wastebasket, grabbed a box of tissues and with a touch gentler than he thought possible for him, began to clean up between your legs.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “Do you know how amazing you are?”

You giggled softly, sitting up to kiss him. “You’re the one who made me cum three times. Most guys can’t even manage once.”

Frankie stroked your cheek, his forehead pressed against yours, deciding in that moment you were someone he did not want to let go of. “Wanna stay the night?”

“Fuck yes.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie smut

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gojoscloset · 3 years

Text

“Hello, I just read your writing d**k appointment and I like it very much. And suddenly, I saw that you open the request NSFW dialogue prompts. Would you please write prompt 60 “Looks like someone wants to be a dad/mom” with Gojo or Megumi please 🥺”

Bahaha omg I’m so sorry I’m late as hell I’ve been busy with a lot mentally cause I have the attention span of a goldfish.

Please please enjoy, thank you so much for requesting lol. I’m back on my bullshit ✨

60. “Looks like someone wants to be a mom/dad”

WARNINGS: N S F W

Reposted from previous account

Smut obvs.

Breeding kink???? (if you squint)

Cream pie

Mentions of Pregnancy

No proofread??

————-

“Looks like someone wants to be a mom.”

You didn’t dare look away from what you thought had to be one of the cutest pairs of baby shoes you have ever laid your eyes on.

“Hmm? What do you mean? I just thought they were cute!” you lifted the pair of shoes up and gave your boyfriend a grin.

But Satoru was no idiot.

You see, these past few months have been filled with nothing but waves of emotions and ideas that you would have never thought you would have contemplated this early in life, but a pregnancy scare earlier in the year shook your world and turned it on its axis.

Of course you had imagined a life with Satoru, possibly married in the later years, and a potential family way wayyy down the line. However, you were content with where you two stood. A strong and healthy relationship, 2 consenting adults in love. But you also had to remember you were 2 powerful sorcerers in love. So even with your line of work, kids at the moment seemed really out of the question. Hell, even being in a relationship with someone like Satoru was a blessing with the lives you two lived. So even the idea of bearing his child seemed like you were asking for a lot from the universe.

When your period came late, all your little fantasies and thoughts of having a family took a step closer to becoming reality, you melted at the idea of becoming a mother and all your fears and doubts were thrown out the window.

But alas, the joy left just as fast as it came you were back on your regular schedule the day before your doctor's appointment. Relieved of course, but things weren’t the same.

Day after day you caught yourself indulging more and more in the idea of what your life would be like with a child. Would your first child be a girl or a boy? Whose features would they take on the most? Oh how you prayed to the gods that they would look more like Satoru than anything.

Would you be a good mother? Would Satoru be a good father? There was no doubt in your mind that he would be.

Don’t even get started on the names.

Your gaze would linger when you would pass up children and their parents at a park. Or when you would pass up baby clothes at the shopping strip, you would stop in your tracks and imagine your future child wearing that outfit.

Secretly you would shop for clothes online just to ‘see what they look like’ Or secretly read first time mom forums on breddit just to ‘See how it feels’ but it was so much more than just a passing curiosity.

And of course, You weren’t the only one who noticed the change.

You and Satoru have been in the love game for a respectable amount of time, and have spent the seconds, hours,days,weeks,months,years, in each other's presence. He would absolutely be able to acknowledge when you’d turn your head in the kids section or when your gaze would linger on the little girls in princess dresses at the market, corners of your lips curling just a little.

Or when a toddler at the grocery store handed him a fake phone,in which he pretended to answer with such enthusiasm you would almost believe he was actually on the phone with someone,he could visibly see how your heart melted at the sight. You looked at him like you wanted to marry him on the spot for the rest of the day. A personal favorite memory of his.

Satoru was a dumbass, but he was not stupid.

You didn’t know how much he loved seeing these little things, the little changes in you. Behind his tinted shades and through his long lashes, he would carefully watch your duality go from powerful sorcerer to something maternal.Something you never did in all the time he has known you until after the scare.

It made him want to jump your bones on the spot and put a baby in you every time, but you never brought up the topic despite seeming to be interested in motherhood, and respectfully he left it alone. But you had been caught red handed almost always.

Satoru held himself back when he had various opportunities to talk about it, do you know how hard that is to do as Satoru?

He wanted to press on. He wanted to pry and ask you all kinds of questions regarding the sudden change, but he knew that there was a time and place for everything, and now was definitely not the time nor location.

“Hey, not bad!” He allowed his glasses to slip off the bridge if his nose ever so slightly to get a better view.

“I would wear these if they came in my size”

He joked, you smacked his arm playfully and laughed.

“Cmon lets g-“

You were about to place the shoes back on the rack but he stopped you before you did. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos of the shoes and tag.

“I was being serious” he stated plainly, earning another laugh from the both of you.

——

The rest of the day went on as normal, for the most part. The little interaction at the store replayed not only in your mind but Satoru’s as well.

‘Did I make it too obvious?’

‘Did I overdo it with the shoes?’

‘Is it time to talk about it?’

—-

‘Toru..’ you whined but that didn’t stop him from continuing to bend you like a pretzel while plowing into you.

“Don’t be shy now, you look so good like this. ...And those faces you make....” he licked his lips reaching out to grab your jaw, thumb running across your lip.

Even though you were whining about the embarrassing positions he kept putting you in, your body was on fire and didn’t want this to end.

With every position he managed to go deeper and deeper, hitting places only he knew how to hit. He utilized the curve of his dick just how you liked it, grazing your favorite spots with every thrust.

The way your walls fluttered and clenched against his made them his favorite spots too.

It was crazy to you how Satoru knew your body like nobody else did. He knew every curve, every dip, every corner. He knew what made you weak in the knees and what you disliked with a passion. He knew what made you cream, what made you wet, what made your back arch and your toes curl.

“You like that Hmm?” He bucked his hips, folding your legs up, pushing your knees as close to your chest as possible.

He gazed into your eyes, watching the way your face wrenched in pleasure. He needed that, he loved that. Being able to see your expression contour and twist because of him, god it got him off.

He looked down at you, his usually spiky hair now flattened with sweat, strands sticking to the side of his face. He bit his lip, and gripped your hips with force, bruises were guaranteed.

He brought you closer, you slowed your breathing to control the ride. You two had been fucking long enough to know the Cues, the way your body twitched and the little sounds you would make when you were close triggered the muscle memory and he moved in the way he knew would push you over the edge.

“D..Don't slow down!” You commanded, throwing your head back into the sheets, the familiar tingling sensation starting at your core, his pace picking up, hands trailing down your abdomen, fingers circling around your clit, wet with its own slick.

He couldn’t help but suck on his own bottom lip watching your body rock in rhythm with his, the way your breast bounced, he couldn’t help but grab a handful.

“That’s right baby….” he spoke softly, voice just above the lewd sounds you two we’re making. The squelching, skin slapping skin, the gasping sounds when he would thrust back into you.

He was getting carried away, letting the words just spill from his lips. “Mmmm fuck yeah baby, you feel so fucking good.” He groaned “fuck around and put a baby in you-“

You had been with this man for many many moons, had been through thick and thin, but nothing had prepared you two for that awkward moment.

All movements ceased the second he stopped talking. Both of you pulled away and just looked at each other, embarrassment demonstrated on both of your faces.

Both of you seemed to think about the Barget incident, and then every other incident which made the dirty talk hit different.

“Sorry” Quickly he spoke, in hopes of somehow saving his ass in case things went south.

“W-what for?” You continued to try and mask your feelings about the situation(s), but nothing could get past his eyes.

He was no idiot, you knew that, but you still tried him, because sometimes he lets your shit slide. But not this time.

“Please y/n, I’ve seen the change in you.”

The air was thick, momentarily, but the smile on his face gave you clarity.

“The lingering looks, the shoes at the store… I’ve noticed” his large hands cupped your face, thumb brushing calming shapes against your cheek.

“Is there something we need to talk about?”

He released you from your position and sat up straight.

“Toru…do you really wanna talk about this now?????” Sheepish under the circumstances

“Don’t give me that. We’ve been together too long for you to try and play this game with me.”

His hands found their way to you once again. Pulling you by the wrists, he sat you up and made you look at him as he continued to speak.

“Communication remember?” He was soft, yet stern.

“You haven’t been the same since the missed period incident.” Your jaw dropped, he was on it even with the timing.

There was no sense in hiding anything anymore, this man knows all, this man sees all.

“I’d be lying if I said you were wrong….you see..” you began to pour your heart out, trying your hardest to keep eye contact with him.

“The pregnancy scare heightened the want for a family with you, Satoru. I envision a lot of things, and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

He held your gaze while looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He listened intently like you were whispering the secrets of the universe to him.

“But I never brought up the topic of family because we’re-“

“Sorcerers” He finished the sentence for you, the small smile he held earlier now turned into a flat line.

The speed in which he did was almost enough to make you flinch. Bittersweet in a way,at least this confirmed that he too thought about a family with you at one point but considered the circumstances.

A“Exactly..” you continued. “And the scare made me realize what I want in life..with you. But it’s out of reach and it’s not something I wanted to project onto- “

His large hands placed themselves in either side of your face and Satoru showered you with kisses.

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” He spoke in between kisses.

“I love you too, but- AH!!! What are you doing??!”

Satoru pulled you by your ankles, placing himself in between your legs once again.

“Putting a baby in you, that's what.” He gave you such a sweet and loving look, it didn’t match the words that spewed from his lips.

“T-that’s not funny…” Quickly, you covered your entrance before he even thought about it.

“Exactly, because it wasn’t a joke sweetheart.”

“Wait, but what about-”

“We’ll be fine, i’m the strongest, remember?” he gave you a playful wink and grabbed your wrists, playfully prying your hands away, he wasn’t going to do anything though, not without your consent, but seeing how flustered he could make you fed the already enlarged ego he owned.

“Now tell me, do you want a boy or girl? Ooh, what about their names?”

“ Satoru… wait… are you sure? Don’t you wanna think about it a little more?”

He let out a playful laugh and pointed a finger dramatically at you, “Are you sure?”

Without missing a beat you nodded, you wanted this so bad, and by the looks of it, so did he.

“That’s all you had to say, let me take care of you, my pillow princess”

-------------

The sultry night was young.How many times have you came already? It didn’t matter.

His arms were wrapped around your entire body, holding you in place as he bounced you up and down his shaft.

“My pretty girl… my sweet sweet princess.” He whispered against your skin, tongue grazing from your collar bone up to your jaw, tasting your sweat. He wanted to breathe you in, and make you his air. The words replayed in his mind as he fucked you senseless.

“and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

“Toru…” Your breathing hitched,, his praise made your walls twitch around him. He got the hint and immediately went to work. In a swift movement you were beneath his form. His skin glistening with a layer of sweat.

“ How do you want it?” he groaned, draping your leg over his shoulder while grabbing the other one, spreading you wider. You were grateful for the change of position, you have been wanting to touch him for a while now but the grip he had you in earlier was not letting it happen.

Your hands hungrily made his way to his chest and arms.

“As long...as I get it…” you managed to mutter through moans. His thrusts became erratic, a sign that he was coming undone as well.

“Look at me..tell me how you want it....tell me how you need it” he licked his lips with desire. You managed to look at him through half lidded eyes, giving him exactly what he wanted, he always did the same for you.

You lifted your hips up some, grinding harder against him, letting more of him fill you up, you could swear you felt his head kiss your cervix. You did a kegel, walls giving his dick a hug.

The actions earned you a breathy moan, he almost lost his cool, it threw off his pace momentarily but when he picked back up, the speed was doubled.

“You like to play dirty, hmm? “

“The only way I like to play…”

“Very well then” he said through grit teeth, finger moving to where you were connected, rubbing your clit in circles without mercy. You were pushed over the edge quickly, mouth Ajar, and body convulsing against him, his movements did not falter.

“That’s my good girl”

He lowered his body down mouth to cage you between his arms, droplets of sweat falling onto the sheets as he tried to avoid sweat falling into your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

He asked once again, not moving an inch until you gave him the go.

You simply stared up at him, goofy grin he always carried on him plastered onto his handsome face.

You gave him the go once again and he bucked his hips.

This particular moment was sweet sweet bliss. Normally Satoru would be careless with his movements when it came to chasing his orgasm, but not this particular one. His touches would linger, fingertips burning themselves into your skin with passion, making their way from your hips to your hands, large fingers filling in the gaps between your own.

His kisses were oh so immaculate. Sweet and soft, but most importantly, abundant.

And the way he spoke your name. Only Satoru could make his words come out like they were coated in honey.

His hips snapped and he gave your hand a squeeze, face in the crook of your neck, the hot breath against your skin forced chills down your spine, with you

“I love you so much…” he groaned into your ear. With a few more bucks of his hips you felt his seed spill into you. You were running on fumes at this point, overkill with the overstim, but that’s how you liked it.

You felt your clit throb, your walls still fluttering against him from your previous climax like they were sucking every last drop of out of him.

He looked down at you silently, but the look on his face, the calm waters in his eyes said everything he needed to say. You couldn’t tear away your gaze, you were already high off the blue dream.

His eyes moved from yours to your lips, they looked needy to him. He bent his head down and planted a kiss, despite the scenario, it was chaste. Innocent. Refreshing.

“I love you.” He repeated, though he had no doubt you felt the same. “I know you do...there is not a single doubt in my mind...and I love you oh so very much, more than I could ever put in words.”

There was another comfortable silence, however, the small smile that was on your face quickly turned into a flustered look when he pulled out of you and spread your legs open, looking at the mess he made inside of you.

“W-what the fuck are you doing?!!”

You laughed nervously and tried closing your legs, but he held them open, too strong for you to try and fight against it.

“I just wanted to see the masterpiece I made. Plus-“ he positioned himself between your legs again

“I’m not done, I want to make sure I get the job done right.”

He gave you a wink, and immediately you knew you were in for a long night.

A very very long night.

#jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojō x reader #satoru gojo #Nasty Nept✨

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thetypedwriter · 3 years

Text

All the Young Dudes Fanfiction Review

All the Young Dudes Fanfiction Review by MsKingBean89

So.

This is a first.

If you’ve been following this blog for some time, then you know I generally read young adult books and write far too lengthy reviews on them with the occasional outlier of adult fiction, mystery, sci-fi, etc.

At any given time, I usually have both a physical book that I’ve bought from somewhere that I’m working on (right now it’s Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley) as well as a fanfiction that I reserve until before I go to bed (my treat for a day well lived).

Fanfiction is something that I’ve mentioned copious amounts of times on this blog in varying degrees, but this is the first time I’ll be writing an actual review for one of them on this platform.

The reason for this is myriad.

One, this fanfiction called All the Young Dudes is a far-cry from your normal standardized fanfiction of 5-50,000 words-something I can easily consume in a few minutes to a few hours.

Nope, this behemoth ends on a staggering 526,969 words and 188 chapters, not including bonus chapters and extra in-universe canonical content the author has also written and published. Roughly speaking, if this was actually published onto paper it would be well over 2,000 pages.

2,000 pages.

Yeah. And I enjoyed every single moment of it.

Two, while I read a lot of fanfiction I generally don’t put any of it on this blog because while I’ve dedicated it to published novels, I also usually have very simple feelings about fanfiction. My thoughts run the gambit of: It was good, it was fluffy, it was a train-wreck, so on and so forth.

Normally my reviews are so long and wordy because I have too many thoughts about the published books that I read and I need an outlet to let them loose.

Whether because of its longevity or because of its content, All the Young Dudes is a story I find myself having a profusion of thoughts for. Hence, the birth of this review.

If fanfiction isn’t your thing, feel free to skip this particular review of mine (although fanfiction is a gift to this world and you should really rethink your stance on it if you don’t like it, just saying).

Third, All the Young Dudes is well written and rivals any actual published content.

Fourth, because of how extensive this fanfiction is, it took me over a month to read it-time I generally would have been reading something else. Instead of leaving you all hanging for a few more weeks until I finish Firekeeper's Daughter (don’t hold your breath-the book is sort of a slog for me personally right now), I decided to just take the jump and write my first-ever typedwriter review for a fanfiction.

Fanfiction has been a part of my life for the better part of almost two decades now. It was truly something I found by accident and in retrospect, it’s insane to me that it’s still something that brings me continuous joy and happiness.

I discovered fanfiction when I was 11-years-old and deeply obsessed with the Harry Potter fandom.

Now, as an overall disclaimer I completely disagree with J.K. Rowling’s stances of gender and biology and differ wholeheartedly with her views of trans and non-binary individuals. With that said, I still love Harry Potter as a story and while I no longer buy anything that profits J.K. Rowling directly, I still love the fandom and the people in it, including fanworks like All the Young Dudes.

When I was 11, the seventh Harry Potter book had yet to come out and like many other people in this time period of agony while waiting for 2007 to roll around so that I could find out what happened, I discovered fanfiction as a way to fill in that ache I was so keenly feeling.

I found myself suddenly immersed in this world of online fiction-both good and bad-but completely entrancing all the same.

I never left.

That is to say, I did eventually move onto other fandoms with their own fanfiction cultures, but Harry Potter was still my first in terms of fanfiction and introducing me to the concept as a whole.

Specifically and maybe oddly, I never found myself curious for actual fanfiction about Harry or Hermione or Ron. In my mind, I already knew what had happened to them and reading about them in fanfiction was redundant.

In addition, the first fanfiction I just happened to come across was a Lily/James marauder era fanfiction on mugglenet.com

This idea immediately intrigued me as fans as a whole knew next to nothing about the infamous Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs and while I knew everything I needed to about Harry Potter it was intoxicating to think that I could learn about a time before the series had existed and about characters who were important, but off screen.

I was hooked and devoured as much as I could for most of middle school about the marauders and Lily and James’ romance in particular (I even wrote and published some of my own that will go unmentioned as they are truly really terrible).

That being said, I haven’t read a Harry Potter fanfiction in years. I grew up and out of the fandom eventually thanks to Twilight and from there I’ve bounced from fandom to fandom as I’ve aged and consumed different things and fallen in love with different characters and different worlds.

That isn’t to say I’ve forgotten though.

I still remember my favorite marauder stories, my favorite Sirius Black/OFC (original female character), and my favorite baby Harry drabbles. They made such a huge impression on me and even though it’s been sixteen years, I still recall those stories with fond nostalgia and jubilation.

Which is why it’s almost ironic that I would return to this particular time period of the marauders with All the Young Dudes.

In a fashion that’s almost scarily full circle, I happened to be on Youtube one day and saw a recommendation video about this girl reviewing a fanfiction called All the Young Dudes. Now, youtube book reviews aren’t uncommon, but a thirty minute video for a fanfiction? Not your typical sighting.

So out of pure curiosity, I searched All the Young Dudes fanfiction on Google and low and behold the overwhelming and top results were all for a marauder-era fanfiction by MsKingBean89. Piqued, I clicked on the link in ao3 and thought why not?

While I’ve mainly been reading in other fandoms recently (BTS, some anime and manga, All for the Game) I had been in a little bit of a slump for finding a really good, really alluring story for some time and really didn’t think I had anything to lose by reading All the Young Dudes, especially as the more research I did, the more I found how popular it was-a plethora of videos on youtube, tiktok compilations, and dozens of fanart posts.

Plus, it had been so long since I had read anything from my progenitor fandom and the thought of going back was strangely comforting.

Hence the journey of reading All the Young Dudes began and oh what a journey it was.

Now, that this review is already five pages in, I should probably tell you what on earth All the Young Dudes is actually about.

The whole story is a marauder-era fanfiction told from Remus Lupin’s POV from the summer of 1971 when Remus is 11-years-old to the summer of 1995 when he is 35-five-years-old. It is an in-depth portrayal of Remus’ time at Hogwarts from year one to year seven and then going all the way up to the start of the second wizarding world, ending around the time Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix begins.

While already the scope makes this a massive undertaking, the author also includes all canonical content from the original series involving Remus, the Marauders, and the time period and incorporates it into her fanfiction-making it canon compliant from start to finish.

While a very large portion of this story is not romantic, there is eventual WolfStar (Remus Lupin/Sirius Black) and if you have read the original Harry Potter series...well. You know things don't end up super dandy for these two characters in particular so you know how the story will end before it begins.

This fanfiction left me speechless for so many reasons.

The scope and length is frankly unbelievable. This fanfiction was published on March 2, 2017 and it was completed on November 12, 2018.

….how?

How did she manage that? I frankly have no idea, but I am in complete and utter awe at her ability to write content with such a magnitude and actually complete it. She gets an award just for that honestly.

Not only that, but the fanfiction is actually superbly well-written. I won’t lie and say it’s the most poignant and beautiful piece of literature I’ve ever consumed, but it was consistent in its pacing, characterization, themes, motifs, and structure, which, for 2,000 pages, is an incredible achievement when you think about it.

Speaking of characterization, everyone was So. Well. Done.

Remus was such an interesting POV to read from and while he was compliant in every sense of the word-werewolf, prefect, bookish-MsKingBean89 added so much more to his character and fleshed him out so incredibly that it’s truly tragic that he’s not a real person.

And to that extent, she does this with all of the characters. You see James’ optimism and leadership, Sirius’ arrogance and loyalty, Peter’s jealousy and chess skills.

Every character was so well-rounded and real. She did an incredible job of taking the bits and pieces from the canon series and using that to build up her own flesh and blood people with motivations, likes, dislikes, dreams, and desires.

That being said, she also had 2,000 pages to do it sooooooo it would be bad if the characters weren’t fleshed out by the end honestly.

In addition, I really appreciated that she didn’t just focus on Remus, Sirius, James and Peter. Lily Evans played a critical role in Remus’ school life and after and so did the other Gryffindor girls like Marlene and Mary.

Too often, the focus is on the boys and their close friendship and while that was a huge focus, we also get to see Remus develop friendships with the girls in his own right and other friends as well that were often OC’s of the author’s.

Now. OC’s are generally something I dislike. I’m reading fanfiction to read about particular characters that I’ve sought after, not to read about some imaginary cast. However, just like any of the canon characters, all of the OC characters were well-developed and played crucial roles in Remus’ development-while either at Hogwarts or after-and I found myself not minding them in the least. In a few cases (Grant) I actually really loved them.

The biggest draw for this fanfiction for me was Remus’ time at Hogwarts. It was so well-written and incredibly descriptive and I found myself thrust back into the world of magic so suddenly and seamlessly that it was like I never left.

MsKingBean89 includes so many intricate details and builds up the world so beautifully that I’d recommend any Harry Potter fan to consume it, just to get some good Hogwarts material out of it.

Another thing I greatly appreciate about this fanfiction was the slow burn. I’ve read slow burn before (All for the Game trilogy anybody?), but this truly took the cake. Sirius and Remus don’t properly get together until the end of year six going into year seven. That’s over 100 chapters in.

100 chapters out of 188.

Meaning that over half of this beast doesn’t have the main pairing even together. For some people, this could be a drawback. You might think to yourself: It takes how long for them to confess their feelings and stop being prats?

A very, very long time.

However...it didn’t bug me. I like slow burn to begin with, but being along for the ride as Remus goes from being a child to an adolescent with unrequited feelings to being in a relationship with someone he loves is so rewarding and fulfilling that the 100 previous chapters are completely and utterly worth it.

MsKingBean89 develops them so well and so carefully that the payoff is so sweet and satisfactory that it's enough to bring the tears right then and there.

The last huge feat of this fanfiction for me was the author’s dedication to canon not just confined to Hogwarts and the Harry Potter books, but also to the time period. Either she lived through the 70’s and 80’s herself or she had done her due diligence when it comes to research because anything from London anti-gay laws to British slang was commonplace in her fic.

I found it completely amazing how she was able to tie in real-time historical and cultural moments like famous singers and movies playing at the time alongside convoluted muggle politics warring with the wizarding ones.

I was so blown away by the accuracy and genuine love behind this fic that it often brought me out of my own mind to simply ponder once again how much work this was and how well she was delivering it.

Even unpleasant things, like homophobia and bigotry, are dealt with in a very carefully constructed way that is aligned with the time period in which the story takes place.

Unfortunately, everything beautiful is not without flaws and All the Young Dudes is not the exception, although it’s flaws are nary compared to its achievements.

The few complaints I have with this fic are honestly quite negligible.

First, there are a few grammatical and punctuation errors. Very few, but I did notice some.

Next, and again, this complaint is really just me whining, but...the end of the fic was really fucking sad. The end of this whole story took me so much time to complete simply because I didn’t want to read it.

I know what happened during the first wizarding war and I also know what ended it (James and Lily Potter dying, Harry being shipped off to the Dursley’s, Sirius imprisoned for a murder he didn’t commit, Peter presumed dead) and in one fell swoop Remus lost everything and everyone he ever loved.

After spending over 1,500 pages of Remus growing to love these people it is absolutely devastating and heart-breaking to see him lose it all.

The last handful of chapters are just really, really sad and it makes me wonder why MsKingBean89 decided to write it in the first place. Frankly, I don't know why she didn't write about Remus’ time at Hogwarts and stop after graduation because we all know what happens after that and none of it is good.

Looking back, I wish I could time travel and tell myself to stop at chapter 150. I truly didn’t need to read about the tragedies that happened after that and the hell that all of the characters go through.

And while it does end on a….sort of kind of maybe positive (?) note with Sirius and Remus reuniting briefly once the events of Harry Potter and Prisoner of Azkaban take place, it was really tainted and bittersweet for me knowing that in a year Sirius would die and Remus would marry his fucking cousin and have a child.

Urgh.

I just can’t.

That being said, I understand it’s not the author’s fault and I’m not saying it is. She wrote a canon compliant fic to the end and it was my choice to continue reading. That being said, she said she ended it before the events of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix because Sirius and Remus are happy and back together and she didn’t want to write what was coming next if she continued.

I truly, truly get that.

But in the same vein, why even write the events of the first wizarding world to begin with then? I’m confused with that response as it doesn’t make much sense to me. I felt like ending it right then and there was not a happy ending. They’re together, yes, but at this point they are both shells of who they used to be. Both have severe trauma and PTSD and frankly I don’t even know if I agree with them being together just because they’ve put each other through so much.

It’s just an interesting choice at the end of the day in terms of the author.

Once again, however, I truly understand that she can do whatever she wants and that she doesn’t owe anyone anything, especially as she’s writing this for free and just because. So please keep in mind that although I’m complaining, I truly understand how fortunate we are to even have this fic in the first place.

Okay.

Secondly, my only other huge complaint is that MsKingBean89 made Remus gay. Not bi, not pan. Gay.

You could argue that Remus just calls himself gay in the fanficiton as he didn’t know about other kinds of sexuality. You could argue that Remus’ sexuality changes and develops as he ages and experiences trials and tribulations. You could argue that it was a sign of times like so much else in this fic.

I frankly just found it to be a frustrating choice as the fic is canon compliant and even though it ends before the events of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows we know that Remus eventually marries Tonks and has a baby son named Teddy Lupin.

How does that make sense?

I tried very, very hard to come up with some sort of feasible explanation for how a gay man would have ended up with the love of his life’s female cousin and truly could not think of one that was not fucked up to some degree.

Again. I know I’m being nit-picky, but it irked me that she made this choice regarding Remus’ sexuality and essentially ended her fic with Remus stuck in a corner regarding how the series actually ends.

At the end of the day, all of the negatives are truly, truly not important. I’m just whinging to whine and to express my thoughts, but I do once again understand that MsKingBean89 isn’t profiting from this fic and that she can do what she wants as is her prerogative.

I hope I was able to express that while I understand that, I can still be frustrated with some of the choices she made.

To wrap this all up, All the Young Dudes is a masterpiece and is a must-read for anyone who loves Harry Potter, the Marauders, or Wolfstar. I was blown away by the sheer magnitude, the love and care she put into her craft, the slow and deliberate development of all the characters, the beautifully constructed love between Sirius and Remus, and the intricate world-both muggle and magic-that surrounded the story like a cocoon.

I am so happy I found this fic and I truthfully am floundering at what to do with myself next. If you have any more current Marauder era fics that I’ve missed out in the past eleven years, please don’t hesitate to let me know.

Recommendation: Go read All the Young Dudes. For weeks, you will cry, you will laugh, you will despair, and you will smile. This fanfiction will make you wish this was canon and in my mind, it now is.

Score: 8/10

Links:

1. All the Young Dudes on ao3

2. The Youtube Video about All the Young Dudes that made me aware of its existence

#all the young dudes #wolfstar #Harry Potter #fanfiction #harry potter fanfic rec #marauders #book review #Book Recommendations #fanfiction recs #fanfiction review #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fanart

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delicioussshame · 3 years

Text

Socialite AU, last part! I finished a thing! Also posted on AO3 now that it’s done.

Shen Yuan had expected that the beginning of the school year would have kept Luo Binghe too busy for them to see each other more than, oh, about once a month, but it doesn’t seem to be the case. Luo Binghe is obviously very smart, so maybe that’s why he can keep up so easily. His studies sure don’t seem to stop him from having Shen Yuan over at least once a week.

Luo Binghe says it’s because he cannot trust Shen Yuan to feed himself properly, something Shen Yuan himself has profusely denied. First, he’s a fully grown adult, he can cook! Second, if he doesn’t feel like it, he can order in, or pay someone to cook for him. There are no issues there! He doesn’t need to be minded.

Not that he minds being minded. Shen Yuan has eaten more than his share of delicious food, and Luo Binghe’s stands above the rest. There are worst things than travelling to Luo Binghe’s apartment and eating a freshly cooked meal.

They don’t talk about novels as much though. This is an area where Luo Binghe had to step back in favor of reading assigned manuals. Shen Yuan has spent more than one evening reading trash by himself while Luo Binghe sat nearby, throwing the occasional question his way as he studied. Not that it seemed like he needed the help.

When does he see his college friends, Shen Yuan has no idea. Luo Binghe always waves away any concern of his on this matter. Seriously, Shen Yuan is a bit worried. Does he not fit in? It seems impossible that someone as charming, not to mention as affluent, as him would be ostracised. Even Shen Yuan had managed to gather a small group of friends during his college years. Luo Binghe must have done the same, no?

If he hasn’t, his fellow students are missing out.

In that case, Shen Yuan will take him out it their place. It wouldn’t do for Binghe to be lonely.

Not that that’s likely, considering how popular he is in their circle. As far as his female compatriots are concerned, Luo Binghe is now Beijing’s most eligible bachelor.

It’s a role that suits Luo Binghe’s public persona to a tee. He flutters between ladies as if he were born into in, flirting with one and laughing with another one with an ease Shen Yuan cannot help but envy, considering his own limited contacts with the other sex.

If those interactions often ended with a pretend fight between them, neither of them would complain about it. It was fun. Much better than insulting real people and wondering later if he’d gone too far, if he’d seriously hurt someone whose crime had only been to be born in a shitty family and raised in a similarly shitty fashion. He and Binghe sometimes rehearsed lines late into the night before a party, sentences that were meant to be biting insults turning into uncontrollable laughter.

Everything was going well. Shen Yuan’s reputation was becoming so toxic it had been weeks since the last time one of his fellow socialites had dared to speak to him, which is how Shen Yuan liked it. As for Luo Binghe, he was both admired for standing up to mean Shen Yuan, and pitied for always being the receptor of his ire. Binghe was more than talented enough to use all of it to his advantage.

All in all, everything was going perfectly.

Until now. “Excuse me?” says Shen Yuan with the coldest, most disparaging tone he has managed yet.

Sha Hualing, sadly, doesn’t seem impressed. “You can deny it all you want. It’s obvious. It must drive you crazy, seeing him with us and knowing you’ll never have a chance. He’s so good, too. Made me scream so loud I’m sure the neighbors heard. Not that you’ll ever find out yourself. Keep pulling his pigtails. He knows, he’s just too nice to tell how pathetic you are.”

Shen Yuan cannot convey to Sha Hualing how utterly from left field her theory is, and how completely baffled he is, without breaking his carefully maintained aura of disgusted condescension, but he really wishes he could. “You’re insane. How could I be attracted to… that.” He winces in his head. Too much? There are probably zero people that don’t feel at least a little attracted to Luo Binghe in this room.

But if there was one, it would be him. Luo Binghe is his cute disciple and friend, not his meal ticket. Leave that to Sha Hualing and her posse.

Her answering laugh is haughty. “Not even you believe that. Anyway, I just wanted to rub it in, but now that that’s done, I got better things to do than talking to you, like him. Fuck off.”

He flips her off as she leaves. Not his most elegant moment, but not the most elegant situation.

How the fuck did she get into her sick mind that he was into Luo Binghe. She should have thought they hated each other! That they wanted to tear each other’s throats open, not tear each other’s clothes off!

… Holy fuck their characters have ust, haven’t they? Danmei isn’t his playing field, but some things are universal across gender. There is an undeniable pull to seeing two hot people seeming like they’re two seconds away from punching each other when it also seems like they might be two seconds away from… something else.

It’s the only possible interpretation. They haven’t been careful enough, and now their roles are tainted by bad tropes!

Shen Yuan is going to have to adapt his persona a bit. Let himself run even colder. Less hate, more indifference, maybe? Or maybe he could just leave Luo Binghe alone for a few parties.

It wouldn’t work! It would seem like he chickened out after Sha Hualing confronted him! It would make it appear weak!

Could he make up a girlfriend?

Nah, no one would believe it.

Fuck, he’s going to need Luo Binghe’s help on this one.

_________________

“She what!?”

“Thinks I keep picking fights with you because I’m trying to get your attention and that I’d really like for you to bend me over something, probably.”

Luo Binghe blushes bright red.

Shen Yuan restrains his mirth. Nice to see he’s not the only one terribly embarrassed by the situation!

Yes, pinching those red cheeks would only make things worse, but he’s still very tempted.

Shen Yuan soldiers on. “Binghe shouldn’t worry about things too much. His reputation is safe. Considering how well he gets on with the fairer sex,” and yes, now Shen Yuan knows way more than he ever wanted to know about Sha Hualing’s sex life, but that’s life,” no one will doubt him. If he has no idea, I’ll think of something. It’s not his problem.”

“Shizun’s problems are my problems! He wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me!”

Aww, Binghe, why is your indignation so cute!” Don’t blame yourself. We both agreed to the plan. It’s no one’s fault.”

Luo Binghe looks down, obviously still embarrassed. “I really have no idea where she got that. Shizun never appears to be attracted to me.”

“Who knows how Sha Hualing thinks. She probably watches too much porn.” He wouldn’t be surprised, considering how low-class she acted.

A second later, he catches his mistake. If Luo Binghe is… seeing her, he shouldn’t be that mean to her in his presence. “Sorry for insulting your… friend.” He doesn’t think they’re officially dating? Sha Hualing would never shut up about it, and anyway Luo Binghe wouldn’t have as much time for Shen Yuan if he was serious about someone. It’s probably just hormones raging.

Luo Binghe shakes his head. “Shizun shouldn’t apologise! She’s the one who was this rude! Implying Shizun doesn’t know how to court someone, or that he’d need such a ridiculous approach when a few words would be enough for him to have anyone! What a stupid woman.”

It’s Shen Yuan’s turn to be embarrassed. Luo Binghe is pushing the hero worship a little too far here. He’s got way more experience in that department than Shen Yuan will ever get, probably. “Well, if you don’t like her, maybe choose someone better as a partner? You could have anyone. I know it’s none of my business, and I guess she’s attractive, but really, so are many others who don’t share her… fiery temperament.”

If he were honest, he’d just tell Binghe he deserves better.

Much, much better. Didn’t he see her chatting with Liu Mingyan the other day? Now that’s a woman worthy of his Binghe, almost his equal in all fields.

Not that he needs to find someone just yet. He should take his time, and find someone he likes.

Luo Binghe snorts. “I would never choose her.”

Shen Yuan blinks. “Didn’t you?”

Luo Binghe looks wounded. “Why would you think that? I would never be with someone this cruel to Shizun!”

“But she said… oh.” Shen Yuan is an idiot. Why, why did he, even for a second, believe what that snake said? “Binghe must let me apologise. I’ve been stupid and have believed her when she said you and her were… involved.”

“Shizun mustn’t believe her! She lies!”

Shen Yuan pats Luo Binghe’s back gently. “I don’t! I don’t. She lied. I don’t believe her anymore. Of course Binghe has better tastes than this. I should have known.”

Luo Binghe raises his chin. “I do. I have the best tastes.”

Shen Yuan lets a smile appears on his face. “You do. After all, you have chosen me to guide you.”

Luo Binghe nods with almost comical vigour. “Yes!”

So! Cute! Shen Yuan wants to give him a hug!

He won’t, because he’s the dignified older friend.

Who reads bad online novels, but let’s not linger on that. “So, what do we do about her imagination? Because she cannot keep a secret to save her life, so I expect people will talk about it the next time we attend the same event.”

“…Does Shizun want… a girlfriend?”

What does that have to do with anything. “If I meet the right person, sure. Why?”

“Does it matter what they think? They never cared about Shizun to begin with. Who cares if they think he’s attracted to me. It doesn’t change a thing.”

Well, yes, but. “It makes me look pretty pathetic. It’s not exactly a fun reputation to have.”

“What does?”

“That I want someone and the best thing I can do about it is insulting them? It does make me look like a kindergartener.”

An unholy light appears in Luo Binghe’s eyes. “So what if that wasn’t the best thing you had done?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Shizun feels pathetic because he doesn’t like the idea that people think he wants someone and he doesn’t know how to get them, right? But what if he did?”

Shen Yuan is very confused right now. “Binghe?”

“We knew each other before that first party, right? So I let them know that. We could be bitter exes!”

Shen Yuan looks at him, completely frozen. “Binghe, no.” That is 100% a terrible idea.

“Why not? It would explain everything! Why we’re so mean to each other while I’m nice to everyone else, why you’re worst to me, and why there’s tension between us!”

There is no tension between them! They’re playing characters! “People would think you’re gay!”

“I’ve been flirting with women all the time. People would think I’m bi.”

“You’ve just told me you haven’t been dating! What if they think you’re hung up on me, who, by the way, is a man!”

“Is it that bad? I wouldn’t mind. Shizun is someone I would certainly be hung on if he had left me.”

“So I’m the one who left you now? That makes even less sense! Why would someone like me leave someone like you! Of course Binghe is the one who left!”

“If I were dating Shizun, I would never leave him! He has to be the one who left me!”

Shen Yuan rubs his temples. He knew the conversation wouldn’t be simple, but it has reached unprecedented levels of nonsense. “Let’s forget who left who. We’re not doing that. Binghe would ruin his reputation to only slightly better mine. That makes no sense.”

Luo Binghe pouts. “It would have worked. I would have made a very good ex-boyfriend.”

Shen Yuan pats his back again. “I’m sure you would have. I, on the other hand, would probably have been terrible at it.”

“Why?”

“How could I have pretended to not only have dated Binghe, but to have separated from him? No one would believe it. My talents aren’t up to the task. I can’t make myself look like a plausible boyfriend to Binghe.”

Luo Binghe sighs. “That’s stupid. Shizun might as well have been my boyfriend lately.”

Shen Yuan feels a headache coming. He can barely follow the logic of this conversation. “Binghe, I don’t understand.”

“Shen Yuan spends most of his evenings with me. I cook for him. He takes me out. We’ve been writing to each other for months. He’s been carefully curating my reading lists for most of those months. He has plenty of reasons why I would be dating him.”

Okay, let’s just ignore most of that. “Nothing you listed has anything to do with the character we play for those society functions? High society Shen Yuan probably only reads classic literature, when he’s not working his high-power job and, I don’t know, checking stocks or playing the guqin. Nothing appealing there. How would we have even met?”

“Via work? Maybe you had a meeting with some executive of my father. Considering my reputation, we probably just had sex and ended up dating later on.”

Shen Yuan tries to imagine being the kind of person who would see Luo Binghe and think he could just hit that.

Impossible. Does not compute. “Look, I’m just going to ignore it. It’s always worked before. We probably shouldn’t change it.”

“But things always staying the same is bad! They must evolve!”

Shen Yuan shrugs. “Not necessarily. My life has mostly remained the same since I’ve graduated, and it’s perfectly fine.”

Luo Binghe flinches like a kicked puppy. “Is my arrival so unimportant to Shizun?”

Fuck. “No! That’s not what I meant! I mostly meant my romantic life!” Not really, he meant his life his general, but it is quite insulting to Binghe to imply he had no impact on his life, not to mention just an outright lie.

“That, too, should change.”

“It sure won’t if everyone thinks I’m gay.”

Under Luo Binghe’s breath, barely audible to Shen Yuan, “It’s not exactly an impediment.” Then, louder. “Let’s tell them the truth, then.”

Shen Yuan instantly panics. “Binghe, they can’t know the truth, it’ll fuck everythin-“

And that’s when Luo Binghe’s tongue finds its way into Shen Yuan’s mouth.

Shen Yuan’s mind freezes completely.

Luo Binghe keeps on kissing him.

Shen Yuan’s mind keeps trying to reboot.

Luo Binghe pushes back and sighs. “Does Shizun understand now?”

Nope. “…We can’t be exes if we’re kissing?”

“Forget the exes. Let’s just tell them we’re having sex. That’ll be the true part. We’ll just tell them it’s hate sex. I’ll tell them you’re just that good and I can’t resist you. That way, you won’t be pathetic, right?”

Shen Yuan’s slowly rebooting mind cannot decide if the “reputation for being gay” part would outweigh the “reputation for having seduced Luo Binghe” part.

Wait. “We’re having sex?”

Luo Binghe falters. “If you want to? Because I want to. A lot. But we’re pretty much dating and Shen Yuan didn’t seem to realise, so I thought maybe he’s not attracted to me, but you keep acting like I’m the best thing that ever happened to you when really, the reverse is true, and can we date already? Please?”

Shen Yuan opens his mouth.

Shen Yuan closes his mouth.

Shen Yuan tries to understand that, apparently, Luo Binghe has been trying to date him? Him? Luo Binghe? And him? As a couple? That is a thing that is apparently on the table?

Wait, Shen Yuan actually is a person who could have looked and Luo Binghe and have hit that!?

Woah.

“I…”

Luo Binghe’s eyes grow even wider as he waits for Shen Yuan’s response.

As if Shen Yuan ever had the capacity to tell Binghe no.

As if he ever wanted to. “Okay. Let’s try it.”

A second later, he gets an armful of overenthusiastic Binghe trying to choke him with too much tongue.

“But we’re not playing bitter exes.” Shen Yuan really has no belief in his ability to pretend he left Luo Binghe.

That he had him and is devastated he doesn’t anymore, sure. But that he’d manage to be cruel to Luo Binghe about it? There’s no way.

“That’s fine. I like the one with the hate sex much better anyway.”

To be honest, so does Shen Yuan.

_________________

Shen Yuan positions himself in such a way that he can track Luo Binghe’s movements across the room without looking like he’s doing more than reading on his phone.

He can tell from Sha Hualing’s particularly vicious grin that she’s about to deliver what she considers to be a crippling blow to his reputation.

He thrills when the expression melts, replaced by horror as Luo Binghe’s face turn sheepish. He can almost hear his embarrassed tone as he admits to the moral failing that is sleeping with Shen Yuan, universal pariah.

He can distinctly hear the cries of dismay and what he knows are roars of utter jealousy.

None of it shows on his face, but Shen Yuan grins.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #BingQiu #the AU where SY and LBH are both online friends and fellow socialites

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ariadne-inthesky · 2 years

Text

I guess I owe you an explanation of why I’m on hiatus, why I will, for the moment, only answer a selected few people and all. Because I firmly believe in honesty and communication being the keys to a pleasant RP interaction. Also, note : I’m officially a homeowner, so I will still be more of a ghost here until I’m done with the renovations and moving in. I’m also travelling in June to see @smertzimy . And work is still kicking everyone’s ass.

It all can be summarised as “it became a chore” (and some people are toxic assholes). It became like a second job - and I know this is my fault because for so long (since I started RPing online, mind you, so around 2004), I prided myself in always finishing threads. In never dropping threads, in finishing storylines. I called myself a marathoner of RP. And it burned me out so many times…. I was hurt when people dropped threads or storylines with me. I was hurt when discussion boards died out. I was hurt when people on EFnet and IRCnet and MSN and Skype went awol or changed interest. It felt like I wasn’t working hard enough - a central theme of my life, really, not being enough, but I digress.

And then I went on tumblr and I tried so hard, all the time. And got into two big burnouts and a lot of smaller ones. It doesn’t help that I suffer from a case of being terminally online - I moved a lot in my life, lost a lot of connections and friendships and I’m slowly rebuilding it now that I am deemed worthy enough by capitalism - yes, I have a job ! A secure one ! Thus I have disposable income ! Thus I can go to places and see people ! Hell, in June I’m gonna see one of my best friends that I met on this hellsite ! And hopefully, in 2024, I will be able to see another best friend I met here ! But. As you see. My friends are online. I do have a few IRL friends around me though. But it’s easier online for me. Always been. But also, the culture on tumblr is - was, because with enough curating and introspection and a few excellent people I met, it got better. I can’t say if people are truly more laid back in the 2020s or if I just got better at selecting - the culture on tumblr was peculiar. A lot of contradictory messages about “caring for oneself” and “you should feel bad if you don’t put your RP partners over everything”. A lot of constant pressure and in some circles the drama. The frigging drama… Sometimes, just scrolling my dash was anxiety-inducing.

It didn’t help that I met a few unsavoury people - don’t get me wrong. I, too, did shitty stuff, said shitty things that I’m not proud of and if I do believe I’m still learning every day to be a less shitty person, as one should do - and one of them in particular had a long lasting influence on my mental health and the joy I felt in RPing here. I admit that I considered deleting this blog and Ariadne just so she would not hurt people because of me… And then I decided to hardblock her everywhere instead. Not gonna lie, life was so much more peaceful after that, but I still suffered from a lack of drive to RP. Again, it didn’t feel like a hobby, it felt like a job I wasn’t paid for - and with my real job kicking my ass because of its endless slew of technical problems, I still love it dearly, we’re just overworked… Well, it was too much. I have to accept I can’t please everyone and I’m not supposed to. I have to give a fair chance to everyone, but if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work and it’s normal and it’s being adult. I can’t keep up with always giving 100% on threads that have no storylines, are going nowhere or are dying out. I can’t give everyone 100% all the time because some storylines are more interesting than others because they were intensely plotted out or because we vibe so well with the Mun. And yes, I have favourites, Muns and Muses I prioritise first for a lot of reasons. Which doesn’t mean I will not try with others or that I dislike others, it’s just that I vibe more with some people and things are easier. And fuck, this is my blog. My OC. My Dune. I worked so hard to flesh Ariadne out, to create verses and AUs that are flexible to include a lot of people and not be that OC. I’ve been there since 2016, I’m allowed to be as selective, low and random activity as I want. If you’re not happy, go ahead. Soft/hard-block me. I will not be angry or disappointed or feel bad about it - this is the adult thing to do. People come and go. It’s not a sign of worthiness to exhaust yourself to please everyone. (if one special unsavoury toxic asshole is reading this : you’re not exhausting yourself to please others. Others have to bend to please you or you guilt-trip them while you give no shit about them and their characters. You’re everything you loudly bemoan in others. That’s why people leave you.)

I will be dropping threads that are in my drafts since 2021 and thread dropping will continue to happen in the long run.

I apologise for that, but I decided to prioritise my enjoyment and my mental health.

It’s a hobby.

Not a job.

#Trash Goblin's Ramblings

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ladyanaconda · 3 years

Text

Helluva Dad Vol. 1: Murder Family

"Dad, dad, dad! Wake up, dad!"

Striker grunted as he covered his head with his pillow, but it was no use as the intruder hopped on his bed. "Kiddo, unless there's a wild animal or a homeless drunk inside the house, go away and let me sleep."

"Daaad, you promised that you'd take me along to the living world this time!"

Striker took a peek at the clock on his bedside table. "Not at 5:36 AM, boy. Couldn't you wait until I'm actually awake?"

"What am I supposed to do 'till then?"

"I don't know, use your imagination."

"But dad-" Out of patience, Striker bared his teeth at his son, tail rattling. Jake raised his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving."

Once the door closed shut, Striker went back to sleep… For about thirty seconds, that is, until the door slammed open and Jake jumped into his bed again, screaming in fright and knocking the air out of his father.

"What the fuck, Jake?!" Striker all but shrieked.

"There's a spider in the living room!"

"... What?"

"Spider!"

"And why didn't you squash it?!"

"It's a big spider!"

Striker's eye twitched. With an irritated grunt, he got off the bed, rolled up a porno magazine on his bedside drawer, and stomped his way towards the living room, Jake trailing closely behind.

"I can't believe it, A son of mine is afraid of a tiny, insignificant…" Striker trailed off and stopped in the doorway. A hog-sized hellantula was tearing the couch apart with big, sharp mandibles. "Boy, go get the rifle."

Once the issue with the spider was taken care of, Striker found himself unable to go back to sleep after the fiasco, so he went to the kitchen and poured himself a big cup of black coffee before making breakfast. Thankfully, Blitzo wasn't inside his fridge this time around, though he made a mental note to go get some more groceries.

As he served the fried eggs and wild hog bacon, Jake walked into the kitchen. He was covered in sweat like he had spent an hour lifting five-ton weights. "Dad, wouldn't it have been easier if we cut up the spider's carcass and take it out piece by piece?" he whined.

"And make a bigger mess I'll have to clean up? No, thank you." Striker placed one of the plates in front of his son. Jake frowned.

"Puaj. Tomato."

"Stop complaining and eat, boy. It's good for you."

They are in silence for the first few minutes. Striker would subtly glance in Jake's direction every now and then, smirking internally at the boy's expressions while he begrudgingly ate his vegetables.

"So, ready for today?" he asked casually.

Jake's expression brightened. "How's the living world like? Is it cool? Does it look anything like hell?"

"You could say so. The only difference is that there are humans living there instead of demons."

"Humans? What are those?"

"Well, you've seen the clients at I.M.P, right? They used to be humans during their lifetime. When they died, they came to Hell and became Sinner demons because they did bad things in life. However, some of them have..." Striker toyed with his bacon as he thought of a proper word. "...pending business with someone in the living world. Our job is to finish that business in the client's stead.

"So… The people who go to I.M.P. are dead humans who want to fuck up someone who fucked them up in the living world?"

Striker snapped his fingers. "Bingo. You're getting the hang of it, kid."

"Hey, dad, think I could use the-?"

"No."

"Hey, you didn't let me finish!"

"Sorry, kiddo. I thought you were going to ask if you could use the blessing-tipped rifle." Striker replied, his eyes reflecting off the knife he was using to butter his toast.

Jake laughed nervously. "Speaking of which-"

"No."

"Come on, dad! When will you let me use those?"

"When you're ready, not a second sooner."

"And when will I be ready?"

Striker dropped his fork to place a hand on Jake's shoulder. "We'll both know. Until then, finish your breakfast."

*HB*

"Moxxie, stop shaking. You're gonna shoot our only hellhound!"

"Wow, I feel so loved here."

Striker watched, uninterested, as Moxxie pointed the crossbow with shaking arms at a photo depicting a human family. "If this were real, he'd already been dead."

"You're not helping, Striker," Millie growled before focusing back on Moxxie. "Just take a deep breath, and let it out."

"But it's a family. Under what circumstances would we ever need to kill a human family?"

"Who knows? Maybe if that's what the client wants." Striker said matter-of-factly as he polished his pistol.

Moxxie wasn't convinced. "Maybe like a shitty dad, or a mob family. That's understandable. But to eradicate an entire innocent-seemingly in this instance-upper middle-class family bloodline?"

Loona frowned. "Hey!" You don't know they're innocent! This kid probably sets dogs on fire, maybe this girl gets off bullying Australian kids online, and this guy…"

"That guy definitely watches," Jake added grimly.

"Couldn't have said it better, little guy." Loona shared a fist bump with the impling.

"Exactly! Humans are full of secret nasties. It's why so many of them end up here."

"But-"

Striker had enough. "Allow me, Mildred." he stomped his way to Moxxie and picked him up by the throat. "Look, wimp, guilty and innocent aren't our business. We're assassins, not charity workers. Killing a target," he swiftly aimed his pistol at the photo and fired a clean shot at the woman's face, leaving a hole in its wake. His point made clear, Striker locked gazes with Moxxie, hissing. "Now pick a bloody target before I throw you out the window."

Moxxie fell to the ground with a loud thud. Millie handed him the crossbow again; he aimed the tip of the arrow at the father's face, trying to imagine it was Striker.

"I just think it's a bit excessive and we could be a bit more selective, is all."

Blitzo slammed the door open at that precise moment, startling Moxxie into firing the arrow. It bounced all around the room, hitting the computer, making a second hole on the photograph, and striking the bottom of the eel tank. Moxie jumped into Millie's arms while Striker quickly picked Jake up from the eel tank when he noticed it wobbling.

"Daad, I nearly had it!"

Blitzo caught the arrow just before it struck the client's skull. "...our newest client!"

The eel tank fell and shattered, spilling its contents all over the floor. The eels burst into electricity, setting the entirety of the room on fire.

Striker frowned at Jake, who was stunned into silence. "To think that could have been you."

"Damn it, Moxxie! I just bought those eels!"

They were forced to evacuate the building as the firefighters arrived and did their job. Striker was sure that this little incident didn't leave a good impression on the client, but surprisingly she didn't cancel. Guess she really wanted that person 86'd.

"Way to go, jughead," Jake told Moxxie sarcastically as they watched the firefighters carry the eels into their truck.

"Shut up, you little brat," Moxxie murmured.

Millie frowned at him. "Mox, don't talk to Jake like that!"

"He started it!" Striker rolled his eyes. Moxxie is 'supposed to be the adult who shouldn't stomp down to a child's level.

Wait a minute. "Did anyone save the fancy book?"

"You mean our only ticket to the other side?" Luna slipped out the blue, fancy-looking tome from her clothing without bothering to look up from her hellphone. "Yeah, got it."

"And that's why you're my favorite, Loonie!"

"I thought my dad was your favorite." Jake pointed out.

"Who says I can't have two favorite people? Your dad's my favorite employee and Loonie here's my favorite adopted daughter. You get a tweat now!"

Millie drew the chalk pentagram on the nearby wall. The lines glowed an eerie red color as the circle expanded and the area inside transformed into a forest. The portal was open.

"Cool! Can I draw it the next time?"

"Maybe. Let's get this over with."

Striker would never admit it out loud, but he found these trips to the living world… relaxing. The air smelled cleaner, like trees and nature instead of sulfur, ash, and lava-like Wrath. Its landscapes were more varied, prettier, and calm, at least compared to Hell's ecosystems. This place was particularly breathtaking; a wide lake surrounded by forest and mountains with the sun setting, giving the sky reddish colors that reminded Striker of Bombproof's mane.

Jake seemed to be having similar thoughts. The impling was looking all over the place, eyes wide. "Whoah…"

"Hey, hey, hold your horses!" Striker picked his son up by the shirt before he could dart into the woods. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I wanna look around, dad! This place is so neat!"

"It's your first time on the surface, right? Don't worry, Jakey!" Blitzo pulled Jake into a hug. "Just stick close to uncle Blitz and everything will be fine!"

"Sides, you and I got a very important job! We're going to keep an eye on... Well, the house, just in case something goes wrong!"

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Millie, I might be a kid but I'm not stupid."

"Oh, I know you aren't, Jakey." Millie chirped, ruffling the boy's hair.

Blitzo, Striker, and Moxxie silently moved closer to the house and leaned against the wall. The former two peeked through the window. It seemed like a normal-looking household with a mom, dad, and two kids. The target was coming out of the kitchen, platter in both hands.

"That's gotta be her." Blitzo chuckled darkly. "Ready to do your cowboy thing, Striker?"

As he was about to point his rifle, Striker glanced sideways to Moxxie. The cowboy sneered. "Actually, Blitz, this one's far too easy. We should let Moxxie have her."

Moxxie blinked. "Me?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, I don't see another Moxxie around here, do you?"

"He's right, Mox. This one's simple enough for you to handle."

Moxxie's face fell after peering into the house. "It's just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital."

"You snooze, you lose, Mox."

Striker readied his rifle, taking a few steps back to aim. He set his eyes on the blonde human female, licking his lips in anticipation. "I've got you, bitch."

"Wait, are we actually killing a family?" Moxxie asked.

"No, don't be a puss. We're just killing a mother." Striker positioned the rifle as it clicked.

"Yeah, we're ruining a family," Blitzo added cheerily.

"B-But… hold on, hold on. Let's just think about it."

He was pulling the trigger when the rifle was suddenly pushed upwards. The movement made the bullet miss its target by a few inches, hitting a mirror instead.

"Why, you-!" Striker grabbed Moxxie's throat, hissing and rattling his tail.

"What the fuck was that, Moxxie?!" Blitzo snapped. Moxxie seemed to go into a panic attack of sorts, prompting Striker to release him.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, tears in his eyes. "They just seemed so wholesome and happy, I panicked!"

Striker rubbed his temple, murmuring under his breath while Blitzo facepalmed. "Get the fuck over it, you baby dick-!"

PAM!

Striker roared in pain as a bullet blasted through the wall, hitting him in the arm. He gripped the wound as blood scurried out of the wound. Fuck, and on his aiming arm!

"New hole! Scatter!"

"Dad!"

Jake's voice brought Striker out of his daze. The last thing he saw before something struck his head was Millie picking his son up and fleeing the scene. Everything went black afterward.

…

As consciousness returned, Striker felt as if he had been trampled over by a stampede. His head hurt like hell and his wounded arm was no better. He tried to move but found himself unable to. Something was binding his hands behind his torso.

"Striker! Wake up, partner!"

"Wha…? Moxxie?" As his eyes got adjusted to the darkness, Striker realized he was tied up in a bizarre chair, hands tightly bound behind his back. Moxxie was in a similar dilemma on the chair to his right. "What the fuck?!"

"Thank satan you're awake! We're in deep shit!"

"You think?" Striker hissed. "Moxxie, I swear, if those bloody humans don't kill you, I will!"

"Hey, you can't blame me for us getting caught!"

"Oh, really? None of this would be happening if I had hit the target and been done with it! God damn it, Moxxie, I had a clean shot and you made me miss!"

"H-How can you kill a mother and leave orphaned children when you have a kid yourself?!"

"Because that's what we were paid for, for Satan's sake!"

They could have continued to argue if it weren't for the two presences in the room. As they looked around, they saw the two kids from before. He might have confused the little shits with implings if they had horns and red skin; their glowing red eyes and devious sharp grins would make the sadistic smirks of the Princes of Hell look like nervous smiles.

Moxxie chuckled nervously. "Well hello there, little ones. Aren't you cute?"

The children spoke simultaneously in a low, almost inhuman voice. "It's nice to have new critters to play with."

If he didn't know any better, Striker might have thought they were in the Cannibal Colony back in Hell. The entire room was adorned with human heads, limbs, and even organs. The 'food' on the table consisted of a roasted fully-grown man with livers and kidneys as side dishes.

"Moxxie, when we're out of this ordeal, I'm going to fucking pummel you." Striker hissed.

They struggled against the ropes, but the kids had made a surprisingly good job with those knots. They were good enough to impress even Striker himself, and he was an ace when it came to tying up knots. Sadly, there was little he could do with an injured arm and Moxxie's wimpy little arms were hopeless. Striker growled. If only he could reach his knife…

A light outside the window caught his eye. Then a second appeared, then a third, fourth, as if someone was lighting up torches. Striker paled.

"Jake!"

"Millie!"

Both imps shared a concerned glance. The girl pulled out a serrated knife on Moxxie; to Striker's surprise, the wimp pushed the chair backward and fell on top of her. He took advantage of the distraction, using his tail to pull his knife out of his boot and expertly slice through the ropes. Once free, Striker sent the boy flying against the wall with a kick. Moxxie, too, had managed to free himself with the girl's own knife.

Striker tipped his hat with his good arm. "Not bad, wimp."

"Can you move?"

"I'm not limp, it's just a scratch." Striker wrapped his red bandanna around the wound and pulled out his pistol. "Now let's blow a hole through that bitch's skull."

*HB*

Jake had never been so frightened in his entire life. Well, maybe that time when he nearly got eaten by a serpent, but it was different. At least his father had been there to save him. But this time it was him who got hurt and there was nothing Jake could do to help. He tried to save Millie when she got K.O.'d, but he stood no chance against a fully-grown human and was knocked out as well. When he regained consciousness, he found himself tied to a stake in-between Millie and Blitzo.

"Striker had that fucking shot. Goddammit, Moxxie."

The crazy woman was cackling evilly as she held up a torch. "Satan! We return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell! May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!"

The torch landed a few feet away from the logs, setting them aflame. The fire rose up around them as Martha laughed maniacally… until she realized they weren't screeching in agony. Blitzo snorted.

"Yeah, that's not exactly how it works, lady. Sorry, your fire doesn't actually hurt us, but I mean I could fake it if that'll get your dick hard."

Jake blinked. "She's a dude?"

"Grown-up stuff, kiddo. You should ask your daddy about it."

"Well, I'll just shoot you in your smart ass mouth!" Jake gulped as Martha pulled out a rifle on them.

"That would be more effective."

"Blitzo!"

Jake closed his eyes shut, whimpering as he heard the familiar click on the rifle. There were two gunshots, but he heard no screams from Blitzo, Millie, or his own throat, and no searing pain. Jake opened an eye warily. There were two smoking holes in the sockets where Martha's eyes once were. Her body collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

A few steps back were none other than Moxxie and dad, both holding their pistols.

"Moxxie! Striker!"

"Dad!"

"You're not getting your god damn paycheck for this one, Moxxie!"

As Moxxie untied the ropes, Jake jumped right into his father's embrace, wrapping his arms around his neck. Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie hugged and nuzzled each other affectionately.

"I'm sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm's way. It won't happen again. I promise."

"Apology accepted." Blitzo pulled Moxxie into a hug, but Striker noticed he was whispering something threatening (apparently), judging by Moxxie's expression.

He waited until Blitzo let go to punch Moxxie with such force that he fell to the ground.

"What the fuck, Striker?!"

"I keep my promises, Mox."

*HB*

Striker wasn't very fond of parties. Frankly, he just wanted to go home, fall to his bed, and sleep, but Jake begged him to stay a little longer to eat cake. After what the boy just went through, he didn't have the heart to say no, so he conceded. Besides, the look on Moxxie's face was fun to look at. He had no idea what put the wimp in such a mood, but he had the feeling it had to do with what remained of the target's bloodline.

"You sure you can ride back home with that arm? I wouldn't like to lose my best shooting asset!" Blitzo protested as he climbed onto Bombproof's saddle, Jake seated in front of him.

"Big deal, it's just a scratch. Nothin' to worry about, Blitz." Striker grabbed the reins with his good arm, the injured one resting on a sling.

Bombproof moved at a slow pace, so it'd take them longer than usual to get home. Millie had once suggested that he and Jake move to Imp City; there was a vacant apartment in the building she and Moxxie lived in and she'd be thrilled at the idea of being neighbors (Moxxie, of course, didn't share the sentiment). Striker regretfully declined the offer (to Moxxie's relief). He was a country person at heart and would rather stay in Wrath. Besides, he wanted his son to experience the ups and downs of rural life.

A loud yawn made him look down. "Tired?"

"No, just resting my eyes," Jake said simply, but the exhaustion in his voice said otherwise. Striker chuckled.

"How about you 'rest yer eyes' for a while, then? I'll wake you up when we get home."

"Really, dad, I'm not tired…" Jake trailed off as he leaned back against his father, resting his chest against his chest.

Striker smiled a bit as he ruffled the boy's hair. "Surely not, kiddo. Surely not."

#helluva boss #helluva boss au #helluva dad #helluva boss striker #helluva striker #helluva fanfiction #helluva moxxie #helluva jake #helluva blitzo #helluva millie #helluva loona #one-shot #helluva boss fanfiction

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

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i notice you developed somewhat of a close bond with your readers (they come to u with such personal situations! 😳), so im wondering if u can help me out a little. do u have advice on making friends? i don't have any right now. my old friends have lost interest in me and kinda hate me 😄. it seems like im the common denominator in these situations, and i don't know why. i always try to maintain contact, engage in things they like (even if i hate it), and offer support. i even buy my friends presents for birthdays and holidays, which is kinda hard for me because i don't have much money or a stable income. so what should i do now? my family is concerned and my mental health is starting to deteriorate lollll 😅

well, I don't have friends so XD

I'm not trying to be relatable or funny (maybe a little bit, you can only laugh at your plight sometimes). I don't actually have many friends and I have trouble making them for several reasons. A major reason is that I grew up not being allowed to have friends. When you're young, it's easier because you are at school and around people all the time. You can find circles of people because you're around them every day. But my problem was when my friends asked me to do anything out of school hours, I was never allowed to attend - birthday parties, plans, going out to eat, nothing. When you end up turning people down repeatedly, they learn to no longer ask you and you learn to not ask to be invited. I got used to losing friends and then I got used to not having any.

Friends do drift apart though. People gain different interests and have busy lives. People change, so naturally their relationships with others change and thus they move in and out of your life. No one is obilgated to be your friend. I think true friends continue to be your friend regardless if you buy them something on their birthday or not. Then again, everyone has different ideas of what friendship means, so communicating that is important.

There are many different levels of friendship and this can change over time with the same friend. If you feel that you're putting in more effort than they are, it is okay to step back. It doesn't seem to be helping you to continue being generous with your time / money and not having a similar feeling reciprocated. It doesn't make you or them bad people. You're just different now and that's okay.

As for making friends, I would say look to your interests. The easiest way to make friends is to have similar inrerests and there are many online communities you can participate in (I would suggest going out and doing things, but, you know, pandemic). Sometimes it's almost easier online because you don't have to put yourself out there too much and you can easily establish boundaries (just block them if they're bugging you lol). You can share what you want and not talk about what you don't want to talk about. You don't even have to share your name and you can still be friends with someone (provided your username doesn't have your name in it, so that's your choice, of course).

I'm going to be honest, people usually seek me out and become friends with me rather than me looking for friends. It kind of just happens lol. I never expect to develop friendships because I just assume everyone has busy lives being confused adults. XD

Maybe, for the time being, it might be better to focus on yourself. You said your mental health is deteriorating and, while it is true that some people simply thrive off of being around others (sorry extroverts, I really don't understand that very well, you all confuse me XD), it night be good to focus on things for yourself and make your own little happiness. People naturally gravitate towards positive energy and can feel more comfortable approaching you if you have a positive energy around you. Developing new hobbies can also open new communities to you and help expand your circle to new people. Sharing your creations might find like-minded people, for example, or joining a book cub Discord and discussing the monthly read might help you find someone to click with.

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oreopata · 2 years

Text

I knew things were going to feel heavy, given my gran’s birthday tomorrow. But, things had to take a worse turn last night. Now I just feel… so miserable.

Do you guys remember when an ex-friend of mine and Jam’s became so two-faced, started saying stuff on our podcasts behind our backs, manipulating, backstabbing, gaslighting before then just blocking everyone in our circle before accusing every one of us of all sorts, myself included. Always fun when someone will tell you to your face how we can’t wait to do so much together and call you their sister - then talk on stream to the one person viewing it about me and our friends. included but we’re not limited to accusing me of being someone who fabricated my entire friendship with Robert and listed romantic cliches or make it sound like a fairytale to try and somehow one-up her because none of it sounded real to her, accuse me of being a creep that fetishised older men (while she herself is into older men and talked in conversations about that), of being someone who needs to one-up her on everything to make myself look better - even though I’ve never been anything but complimentary skills, of body-shaming her despite never mentioning her body outside of saying she looked pretty in one of her selfies; that would constantly shut her up and dominate a conversation. Also being a lie because there’s nothing to stop her speaking in text convos and how often I would send her stuff I knew she would love and talk to her about them, telling me how those things would cheer her up - even if it’s outside my wheelhouse. And plenty more to paint be as a narcissistic, compulsively lying Regina George figure. Despite having never said a bad word to or against her.

Not that I was the only one limited to that other side of her face. She would talk hours and hours about Jam being a manipulative racist for having the audacity for setting her up an IMDB page to showcase her work. Aswell as showing herself to be manipulating and abusing him for some time leading up to that. Projecting her own actions into him and spinning narratives to fit her favour. Safe to assume this took a massive toll on my mental health and put me in a dark place.

This around two years ago. I thought I never had to think about it again. Then I get the shock of my life to see her on my timeline again. She is now part of the Stephen Silver academy. An online school I always wanted to join but never had the money. There she is enjoying mentorship merch and being part of a community I only hoped to be. Working as his marketing director. Her 3D modelling work now giving her work in games. A perfect position, perfect looks, perfect skin. Perfect everything.

And meanwhile I’m still wallowing away in my home every day. Some attempts to draw proving unsuccessful and my skills atrophy. She enjoys her beauty, meanwhile my appearance still makes me a social recluse. My cheeks stinging from plucking just to prepare for a day in public, then getting the worsening acne and ingrown hairs for the trouble. And there’s always something about my appearance to learn about. Be it my bad hair or my lumpy legs, according to my mum.

It feels like the only thing separating me from those neckbeard memes is my sex.

She won. She’s got it all. I guess she was always right. I’m still just enduring every day. Sometimes the only happiness I feel is talking to friends and enjoying an evening meal. Otherwise every single day I feel like I have nothing to look towards.

I told myself this this year will be the one. That I’ll be open for business before my 27th birthday. Now I wonder if I’ll even have that to show. Or will it all just fail again. My mum even said how I just give up on everything I try. I don’t give up. I just fail. I’ll be 27 years old and don’t have a proper adult life to show for it. Just years of mental and physical damage.

My grandmothers birthday is tomorrow. Every year I’ll visit her grave with a thermos of tea. But recently every visit just ends with me sobbing in front of it, saying how sorry I am that things have gotten this bad. Part of me is glad she can’t see me like this, but I also wonder if things could’ve gotten this bad if she was still alive. The last person in my family who really understood me, who didn��t make me feel like a disappointment, who I ever actually loved.

Despite any past determination, I constantly feel like my life is just a waste. I’m not living a real life, I’m not living one that shows I’ve had purpose or lived up to all the expectations people had of me. I’m just, I suppose what Americans call a bum. It feels like my immediate goals are just pipe dreams after all these years of constant failings. Some days I wake up and I’m instantly filled with dread. I wake up and go “oh no”. Because then I’m reminded of who and what I am. I back to reality, and I just have to shuffle thought the day until my friends are online and then the darkness can go away. And I wonder if there really is no real future for me. Just more of this.

Some days I feel like the friends I have are friends because they can’t see all me. Just text on a screen. They don’t see the constant squandered potential and gross body that people see in real life. ‘Cos that’s what people around me have seen, what my entire family sees. And I hate feeling like this, because then I feel ungrateful for the friends h have. And god knows I don’t have the words to describe how much I love my online friends. How they make each day so much brighter. How some days they are the only source happiness I’ll get.

When I go up to my grandmothers grave tomorrow, I don’t know what I’ll be able to say. Just talk to the headstone and say it’s still as bad as it was last year. How much I tried to be brave for everyone but couldn’t. How much I still miss her and since she died I don’t feel any great love or any feeling for anyone related to me anymore. How alien and isolated it makes me feel. Apologise for how the roses I bought a couple days for her birthday have already shrivelled and died before I could give them to her. Sums it all up, dosnt it? I’m determined this deadline will finally be the day. But, not like I haven’t said that before. Like in a couple months I’ll suddenly turn things around and have a life that makes all my previous years not feel like a waste. That I haven’t spent over a decayed trying and failing to recover from trauma and abuse that I always accepted as normal.

Seeing where I am now, and seeing Where that ex-friend is now. It makes me think I guess she was right. Everything she’s said and done has gotten her a good life. She won, I guess she was the good guy, I’m just here because it’s what I deserve. Im still here because I was too stupid, too lazy, too weak, not as talented as I thought I was or people told me when I was a kid. Im just another example of those people that can’t get their shit together and all their pathetic just oozes through like grease through pours. I still almost no reason I have to hide in my house. Just having to endure more painful shaving and fucking up my face thanks to hormonal disorder, and having to put-on shapewear to appear slimmer enough to not have my mum chastise me another day. And just deal with either the unreal back or pain in my nether regions to the point where I bleed a little. Just to avoid more of those words that hurt so much worse than anything I have to physically put myself thought just to be acceptable to appear in public.

I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I don’t know what I deserve, if anything. I don’t know if I’m going to achieve any of my hopes and goals when every passing day brings it further away from me and makes me weaker to any chance of being normal. I suppose the only certain thing is that I’ll be ordering a takeaway and no doubt drinking a fair bit tomorrow. Drink to my grandmothers memory until I lose most of mine. I’m just so tired. Every single day, I’m tired and I don’t know what to do about it. Sometimes, I don’t know why I keep trying.

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englacial · 3 years

Text

A Warm Goodbye or A Message for the Future

I haven’t been active here in more than a year which is mostly by accident but also quite purposeful. I had intended to remain in the RP community but as is evident by my many returns, disappearances, and moments of unreliability, this is a chapter of my life that has come to an end. I say this with an abundance of love for what writing here has given me and also with renewed knowledge of what that progression has looked like for me. This community has been amazing and it has also been devastating for me at times. I have also played a role in that devastation and wasn’t always the best version of myself (and I’m still not).

COVID certainly threw my life into turmoil and unearthed a lot.

In December of last year I went through a mental health crisis that landed me in patient for a brief period and also lead me to the deepest and most accurate understanding of my mental health I’ve ever contended with. Through the process of finding a new therapist experienced with dissociative disorders, I was diagnosed with DID and my whole life suddenly made sense.

The ups and downs, the identity confusion, the loss of time and deep misunderstandings of situations I was faced with suddenly made sense in their entirety. Many gaps have been filled simply by working on this in therapy and it has forced me to reflect on my time in the RP community and how I’ve interacted with fellow writers, both good and bad. It’s also made it incredibly difficult to let go of this account and writing because for me, it was often the only opportunity I had to express myself as me. Roleplaying was an excuse to be a different person, an easy cover for what was actually occurring in our life. I haven’t always known how to do that nor did I fully grasp why OCs felt more like me than me (surprise! they’re me). There were times when my self-expression was really self-injurious and that is painful but necessary for me to realize and acknowledge. Trauma changes the ecosystem of the human body in upsetting and ugly ways. More than anything, I was escaping the recognition that in refusing to heal, I was often doing harm to myself and others.

Fundamentally, I was seeking human connection where I had been denied it and we were playing out parts and trauma we were forced to keep hidden. For me, DID is about multiple traumas I have faced and the way my body chose to cope with it. It means a lot for what my childhood looked like and the incredible survival tools necessary for me to grow into an adult.

When I first started roleplaying on tumblr I was just 13 years old. I’m now 24 and have so much still to learn. I knew I was different growing up. I knew I had experienced pain. I knew I had difficulties expressing myself. I didn’t know I had DID or why there was so much confusion crowding my experiences online and in, truly, the only space I was able to fall into away from the ongoing turmoil in my life. I went by many different names, played many different characters, and made many different friends but this was difficult and I was not always kind. Frequently there were dissociative barriers that presented as amnesia and compartmentalized selves that in DID are called alters. The consistency with which I was forgetting myself, my actions, and people I’d met was a major detriment and it also enabled adults in the community to take advantage of and use me. The RP community was the stage for which many people with more life experience than myself, hurt me as a child. As I remained in the community, I began growing into a very dysfunctional adult and a part of that was to hide from my past in the community and parts of myself I didn’t recognize or accept as being me (collective). It is very difficult to contend with actions you don’t remember and I was not ready to take accountability for what I did as a scared and hurt child and what I was running from as an equally scared and hurt adult.

Mental health has always been important to me. I have talked at length about being a survivor of CSA, trafficking, and other forms of abuse and neglect. I have talked about my struggles with PTSD and depression. Despite this I was still not healing. Acknowledgement of mental health only does so much if the process of actually healing is not accessible to you.

My biggest takeaway from the long term, trauma informed therapy I have started is that I really didn’t know what healing looked like until I not only had an accurate assessment of what the problem was but accepted it and stopped hiding from it. This is difficult with DID. It is designed to operate in the background. Not knowing precisely your own experience, not having all of your memories is a way to conceal pain, not confront it. Working with myself as a system has been the most fundamental building block in actually healing, in actually accepting my trauma, in accepting how my trauma lead me to being dysfunctional in my relationships and in how I interacted with the people I cared about. Before I started doing this, it was easy to distance myself from my own actions. I did not remember them, I believed it was another person (because often it was, though this does not distance the actions from myself), and I thought I could just move away from it because it was not representative of me. That’s just not true. System accountability demands that I confront in myself the ways that not holding myself accountable lead to harm caused. In the RP community, I have been antagonistic of others. I have concealed my identity when confronted with actions of my past that I did not remember. As a child I lied about my age to the appeasement of adults in my circle at the time who were grooming me and as a result people connected to me were hurt when I moved away from them as someone else entirely. So much happened in this community and with people I met that it was foundational in how I learned to cope (for better or worse) and how I carried myself going forward. The accounts I had here were more real than life to me. That for me was a dysfunction. I was hurt as much as I caused hurt and this carried over when people recognized me but I didn’t recognize them or I was pressed for information and suddenly realized I was multiple people. It happened so many times here that I don’t blame anyone for feeling distanced from me, hating me, feeling hurt by me. My sense of self was fragmented and so was my sense of my actions. As it comes together more clearly, I understand now that as much as I have faced harassment in this community and my share of hatred and vitriol, I contributed to it as well.

In order to truly say goodbye, I feel I must also directly hold myself accountable for harm caused by my actions while I shared space here.

I made friends who were hurt in the crossfire of my search for self, whose trust I broke and whose boundaries I did not respect. I don’t think I can ever directly apologize to these people for what transpired between us but I do understand with specificity what actions of mine lead to the dissolution of our friendship and the hurt that they felt as a result. Those things weren’t ok. Being aware of the circumstances that lead to them does not excuse them and I am sorry. For many years I was a steamroller of uncertainty and of cyclical harm.

What I want and what I want for others is happiness.

Happiness to me is getting to experience the full breadth of human emotion while living under a stable community that is providing all of the basic necessities such as food, water, shelter, and materials to create goods and explore creative talents while simultaneously getting to share all of these things with everyone else inside the system. Being connected to others while having your needs met, is the only form of life that makes sense and for two full decades of my life, I did not have this. Many others don’t either.

Systematic abuse and denial of resources is something that follows people within their muscle memory patterns, nervous system, and within neurological pathways inside of their brain. People with dissociative amnesia are often among the most exploited because they were never given the tools to continue to build memory recall. When they are given all of these tools, we find that overtime they will continue to get better at recalling their lives and experiences, people they have met, and food they have eaten, joys they’ve shared. The brain is a muscle that retains everything that happens to it. It is incredibly absorbent and elastic. If something happens to it, it will remember. For people who have been systematically harmed, especially over extended periods of time, this can cause extremely difficult issues with memory recall. Eventually, these memories can return but it means removing people from systems of harm not by force but by replacing them with healthy and bustling systems that can offer them the love, tools, support, and nourishment for their body that they need.

Systemic malnourishment especially through resource denial under capitalism is a major contributor to this problem. Chronic dehydration’s link to memory problems, to name one example, is well documented. The issue with this even when people have access to all of that information is that they don’t have the reflexive memory abilities to continue to nourish themselves and be well. More and more these people and communities impacted by this kind of harm will seek refuge in accessibility (positive). If the tools are right in front of them surrounded by a multitude of people and supportive communities, they will have a much easier time remembering. Grounding is incredibly important even once outside of a system of harm because recall ability is a learned skill. People who have experienced repeated and/or prolonged abuse and harm (including systematic abuse like racism, homophobia, transphobia, et al.) have a much more difficult time learning and retaining this ability which contributes to the formation of dissociative disorders like DID.

The memories are still there, but it’s extremely difficult to begin to unravel that mystery when they are among the most likely to forget to remember. Recollecting memories is not only difficult for them, it is something their body has reflexively protected them against so that they can continue to survive in ongoing systems of harm.

When they continue to reproduce systems of harm, it is because they have been systematically gatekept from their needs and the healthy communities that can meet those needs from birth.

In order to help people suffering from dissociative barriers in terms of DID/OSDD, it is of utmost importance to continue to care for them as a collective so that they can then go on to care for themselves and give back to communities that they may have unknowingly harmed (this includes caring for yourself). It’s important to look inside of these communities and the conditions they’ve been living in with love and support. Sometimes the conditions are bad because they are incapable of caring for themselves after previous caretakers have abandoned them.

Many people with dissociative disorders come from families who were absent for the majority of their lives even if they were living under the same roof. Sometimes these families will have noticed their child’s behavior, questioned where it came from and then find the answers are unexpected and daunting to take on. When faced with the question of whether or not their own child is safe to continue loving as a result, they will often continue to recreate systems of harm or are told by healthcare professionals to do things with their children that are not healthy for them which can on its own become traumatic.

The environments that dissociative disorders result from are very difficult to navigate. If you suspect you or someone you know is dealing with a dissociative disorder, it is important to keep in mind the circumstances endured that might have contributed.

We cannot always be the protectors, we cannot always shield people from harm, we cannot always stop them from causing harm themselves, but an increased awareness and understanding looking in can help considerably.

People with dissociative disorders are at high risk of being repeatedly groomed and harmed because of the nature of the disorders. They deserve the protection and security to fully form and emote as a human being without being harmed again, and when they themselves cause harm it is important to understand why this is happening and it is necessary when they realize that something is harmful that those behaviors and beliefs are replaced with new ones that are healthy, constructive, and more reflective of what they want. With dissociative and amnesiac barriers, this can become complicated but it is mandatory for system growth and healing.

Preventing harm starts in recognizing where it lives inside of ourselves.

To finish this post, I would like to share some poems that myself and others in my system wrote regarding our experience with DID:

Each time it happened I became another person But they always found me I tried my best to explain I’m still me but I need to be safe And no one listened I tried to show don’t tell I tried to scream it out loud Then I tried to forget it completely They always found me The caretaker inside of me was a flame I was forced to keep lit Sometimes kindness could not touch his flame The child hungered for a hand to hold but was held back from exploration No one told me I was we I had to dissect myself over and over in a lab that I created Now that I love myself Who is here to rejoice? -Beck

In my dreams I see a giant machine That I pilot I step inside my circuits Firing As a connection blooms to life I feel each part creak and crack As they move away and step forward The joints protest with disuse but Life bursts to turn on Twinkling lights of Motherboard parts that Illuminate metal I become like the moving backdrop to the stars a Galaxy swirling into A robot

Suddenly I feel afraid Am I just stitched together scraps that someone rescued from the crash? Am I the real deal? Or are my thoughts Synthetic projections onto a reality of my past that I’m just parts and not You Not Whole But wait I love the parts I Love the robot I see them woven together like A junkyard dragon that Soars overhead as a beacon of glittering silver held together by Intricate threads closer to a Kite Than heavy metal Something else entirely The machine cannot be confined to this earth It transcends infinitely It is life sometimes more than living -Aspen

I remember when I was small and I was running Through flowers Through mazes I remember when I was small and my palms would catch hold of blades of grass to brace my fall I remember being so small the ground would swallow me up Puddles like looking glasses That I dip into and Sink down to the bottom The boats crossing overhead While I swim I remember when the world was small and I was big Looking down at towns moving below Hiding in the ceiling as The room moves -Hannah

I have danced on the graves of relationships cast aside Pretending they were temples and not places of pain I am not the same ghost who haunts there Though some would see it in my face and hear it in my Disembodied voice Telling them I’m So over it... While the tears still sting I don’t visit their headstones anymore but the remnants of offerings I’ve made with Sweat/Blood Still linger like the bitter taste of Wine sipped in your honor or that I pour out at the soil marking where you left or where we stumbled A place you tried to bury me, too I don’t leave you to rest in peace I leave so I can -Jana

I see the revolving door of Our mind Many stepping in to walk through Sometimes more than one and It’s great I talk to them They’re my friends They go to work They wave and smile at me But I don’t step on Something inside of me holds me in place Afraid of the Spinning wheel Often I step on and just get Spun right out or I say the wrong things on the other side I don’t have the best reputation Some would say “She lies,” or “She’s so aggressive!” They see my teeth bared in anger and My arms folded over my chest to Conceal the soft spot under my armor where a spear might pierce They see me like a beast whose eyes glow red They do not know that the Wolf isn’t just a part of me and that I’m the monster they’ve seen There are others who have set fire to my path Concealing the tracks that reveal Villages I’ve been to Living peacefully before the Wolf leaps out and disrupts them Many people got too close or They hurt too personally and I took the blame for the abandonment and pain looking at a legacy where A scared kid devastated other scared kids I cleaned up after them and I Built my defenses to Hide them

She is like the Moon A part of her is always hidden

I bound these words into myself like A spirit possessed to make everyone else the Ghost So many people caught in the crossfire of Escaping abuse All of it is ugly I was built to chase things off The Wolf Creeping around the concrete walls as The Woman in the Maze Defending its center with Medusa’s untrained gaze A specter of someone loved and Incapable of telling them while Slipping further and further away from material safety The hurt doesn’t excuse the hurt Every move I make opens Old wounds that others have healed or forgotten but I’m still carrying If the women I’ve loved were all one person they too would Be like the moon Parts hidden or Omitted Because it’s easy to forget how They hurt me because I was a girl who loved girls -Jana

Some have said I was the first to look out over the edge and into the expanse of unknowns below without fear And I ache when they’re not right Being unafraid of dying is different than being unafraid of Death I know I’ve imagined myself there Not even as a last resort Thinking maybe this will be fun to try I’ve seen myself with my toes curling over ledges for purchase Tightrope walking the line between here and jumping Romanticizing the strength it would take to Let myself fall or Climb down the rope To meet Death again Her face kind enough for me to feel regret for a split second before Rebirth I’m not afraid of Death But the truth is I was never gazing over a ledge more than The bowl of the toilet Vomiting Closer to death on the bathroom floor Naked and feeble Than I was in imagined leaps of faith See, I still fear dying and no... I wouldn’t be the first Even in our family Death has our list pulled up and Our numbers on speed dial I think she’s watched me on my hands and knees mopping up blood and just Tapped her watch “Are we done with this? I have somewhere to be.” But that voice wasn’t her nor the tapping it was A mother sick of waiting for me to get ready for school or a counselor unflinching when I say I’ve watched friends die Until eventually there was just never enough time for dying and though I visited the ledge frequently in my mind and explored the chasm down in search I forgot about my body Nothing left to harm if I am In between here and there Then it just became what sacrifices I could make How I could fantasize about martyrdom and Sail forward into the pitch As someone else’s hero when Still I was just Killing myself What an unexpected turn for The Hero and yet I see it all the time These visions of divine masculinity Achilles in Hades All point towards her again Death’s hands firmly grasping his as he Dies for his friends like a valiant flame extinguished and Everyone weeps His devastation saving them... That was what I stacked myself up against Thinking the only service I could give to those I love was My life in its entirety Which is why I’m not The Hero I’m the Leader, the Counselor, the Friend, the Lover I’m pulling myself away from steps taken towards a drop because Unity is not forged by Taking a leave of absence but by Seeing pain in others and Not thinking you have to live for them Only wanting to survive with them Envisioning futures where you thrive with or without them knowing that The way you believed solidarity was Shared suffering and not Shared community in times of suffering Was a cowardice you will live to outgrow Now strength looks like pulling weeds for a garden Packing up boxes Reminding yourself to stretch or Focusing on your breathing as it guides you down into A hollow part of your body An energy tightening there and fanning out slowly as Intention Replacing the visions of a ledge with Floating Swimming out into a peaceful place inside of you and Breathing in again Calm and of course I wouldn’t deceive you The ledge is still a place I go to and Look down like scrying into Death’s vastness and I cry too It was never funny It was never beautiful Those are lies told to me and you The bones on the bathroom floor were me and even when I rattled No one answered -Tristan

When we love we love together I have never been a singular Inside me there are waves rippling on the shore Formative memories distorted and abstracted with each crash of foam against ground up trash I hear a knocking on the wall of our beach house as if a ghost hides inside When things happen I don’t understand I ask about the real children in the closets like me that I can’t touch Are they scared inside too? I see your eyes go glossy when you remember yours I want to ask about what about where and whom I want to know you’re like me I’m sorry I didn’t know that it was painful -Tristan

I want to tell you that you don’t have to be afraid But there are places you are no longer allowed This is so I can heal and not because I am protecting you I want to show my thoughtfulness The things I see in you The joy That joy hibernates inside me too The winter brings us closer together Generational trauma sprawled on a frigid map yet so cramped for a bedroom that gives me glimpses of the past Sitting cross legged on green carpet while I play games I pretend are me All my heroes have no gender No voice No face Please see me It is the greatest love I’ve ever known -Beck

I want all of our friends old and new to know: we are safe, loved, and cared for. Thank you for the memories and the systems of love you introduced to our life. We love and thank you. You met us without knowing and we felt seen here and this helped us to accept ourselves as a system. -Tristan (yes, really)

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carewyncromwell · 3 years

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“A waltz when she walks in the room, She pulls back the hair from her face. She turns to the window to sway in the moonlight... Even her shadow has grace. A waltz for the girl out of reach, She lifts her hands up to the sky. She moves with the music; The song is her lover; The melody's making her cry... So she dances, in and out of the crowd, like a glance... This romance is from afar, calling me silently...”

~“So She Dances,” by Josh Groban

x~x~x~x

And to cap off my set of Valentine’s Day posts where I feature my MC’s and someone they care about...last but not least is my HPHL kelpie kid Ru! In the above picture, they’re pictured with Galen Stagg, who belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier, but this picture, this post, and this basic AF pencil test animation are actually about Ru’s relationship with their “keeper” and ttly-not-girlfriend Estrid Soelberg @that-ravenpuff-witch! (I wanted to overlay the two images, but the online sources I tried using to do so weren’t cooperating, so...eh. Here they are separately. XD)

When the kelpie who’d taken on the identity of the Ravenclaw student Rudolph Ollivander first encountered Estrid Soelberg, they did not like her. How could they, when it was because of her that they now wore a silver chain around their neck that she could use like a “leash” and keep them from transforming back into their true form and eating anything or anyone she disapproved of? Naturally Estrid didn’t care for Ru much either -- and really, considering that they nearly ate a first year, that also was pretty understandable. Over time, though, Estrid’s stance softened somewhat, upon realizing that there was an oddly sympathetic side to the carnivorous kelpie.

For one, Ru absolutely loved being at Hogwarts. It wasn’t obvious at first, given how laid-back and aloof they were, but their electric blue eyes were always bright and aware, never missing out on a single detail. Ru would spend hours and hours every day in the Hogwarts library, devouring every book they could. They would explore every corner of the castle grounds and memorize every shred of knowledge that came under their nose. They collected knick knacks and jewelry from Hogsmeade, even going so far as to pierce their ears in their third year, to the horror of all of the adults, both inside and outside of school. And this didn’t even touch on Ru’s great passion for history, magical creatures, Herbology, art, and especially photography. Their still Muggle photographs were always crystal clear and striking, from a view of the Black Lake taken from the Owlery to close-ups on the details of the winged boar statues near the front gates. Ru’s Muggle-style photography came alive in a way that magical photography -- which was still in its infancy and quite low in quality -- couldn’t capture. On the Christmas break of their third year, Ru also discovered and became very enamored with Muggle animation, which made crude drawings come to life -- Estrid, despite her best efforts, couldn’t bite back her laughter upon finding out that Ru had requested the permission of one of the snobbier girls in their year to use her as a model for an animation, only for the finished product to end up being of the girl picking her nose with her pinky finger.

As Estrid got to know Ru better, she decided to try showing them more compassion. For as inhuman as Ru was, and how eccentric, cold, and rude as they could be, their enrollment at Hogwarts truly didn’t seem to be motivated by anything malevolent -- it had truly just been the only way they saw for them to attend this school they’d been watching from afar and longed to see up close. And Estrid treating Ru with more respect and kindness, little by little, wore down Ru’s walls enough that they didn’t dislike her quite so much either. She not only was insightful enough to suss out that they didn’t like eating around other people and showed them the Hogwarts kitchens so that they’d have a place where they could eat in peace, but she didn’t see the need to fill the silence with worthless conversation the way so many of their classmates did. She could sometimes just let a moment be, let the emotions and time just rest for a while. With that, though, Estrid was actually a rather interesting person too, in her own way. She had her fair share of admirers for her appearance (which Ru acknowledged was decent enough, by human sensibilities), but she seemed actively disinterested and uncomfortable about it, instead being the type who was unafraid of being on her own. And yet despite this, Estrid truly wasn’t a loner like Ru was -- she had a gentle hand with creatures of all kinds, an artistic eye, and a soft smile that she rarely showed to much of anyone, but was always sincere. Most striking of all to Ru, though, was the way she moved when she danced. The way her limbs bent and stretched with such grace fascinated Ru. They wished they could slow down time sometimes, just to analyze every tiny little flick of her fingers or flourish of her ankle. Knowing that they couldn’t take enough pictures to capture the grace of her movements, and not yet having a camera that could take moving pictures, Ru settled on trying to animate Estrid. Most of the animations were very crude in the beginning, consisting of nothing but stick figures, but little by little, Ru studied the proportions of the human body (very different than that of a kelpie!) and tried to refine their technique. And before long, all of their animations ended up being modeled on Estrid some way or another -- the vast majority of them being her dancing ballet.

Another person who’d be in the room sometimes when Estrid was dancing was their yearmate Galen Stagg, who often practiced the piano while Estrid was dancing. Ru found the Gryffindor inoffensive for the most part -- like Ru and Estrid, he had a talent for Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures (Ru could sense that Galen in particular had a magical gift for communicating with creatures, even more than Ru themselves did, considering they were actually a kelpie), so sometimes the three of them would end up in the library studying at the same table before a test. Galen was a bit of pansy to Ru’s taste, given his dislike for conflict or confrontation, but he like Estrid was soft-spoken enough that he never gave Ru any real headaches.

One day while Estrid was dancing and Ru sat off on the sidelines (sitting with their legs crumpled up in such a manner that one could wonder if they’d ever learned how to cross their legs properly), Galen took a break from playing to come over and sit down next to the messily-dressed Ravenclaw on the floor. Although he himself really enjoyed drawing too, he’d always felt like Ru tolerated him more than liked him and so had been hesitant to ask Ru if he could see any of their artwork. This day, though, he finally mustered up the courage to ask.

“...May...may I see what you’re working on?”

Ru lowered the page they’d lifted to fine-tune and shot a look out the side of their eye at him.

“...It’s not finished,” they said bluntly.

“That’s all right!” said Galen self-consciously. “That is...I don’t mind, if it’s still sketchy.”

Ru considered him for a moment silently. Just when Galen opened his mouth, ready to say that Ru didn’t have to if they didn’t want to, the kelpie held their sketchbook out in one hand for Galen to take.

With a surprised, but relieved blink, Galen took it and looked at the top page. It was still only a cluster of loosely connected circles and ovals, but Galen could just barely make out what it was.

“It’s Estrid,” he realized, his jade-colored eyes lighting up. “Isn’t it?”

Ru nodded curtly, their gaze drifting off to watch Estrid at the barre.

“That’s just the last frame,” they said in a very low, nonchalant voice.

“Frame?”

“Of animation. Pick up the next eight pages and flip them one by one.”

Galen did so -- and to his delight, he watched as the little cluster of ovals and circles unfolded its arms and spread them in a graceful arc that flourished at the wrists.

“Wow, Ru,” said Galen, impressed, “it looks just like Estrid! I mean, the movement looks just like hers. You really captured the grace of her arms.”

Ru’s electric blue eyes swiveled absently in Galen’s direction, but they didn’t turn around or meet his eyes. Instead their gaze returned to Estrid as they brought up a hand and smoothed some of their long black hair behind their ear.

“...You reckon?” they asked, their quiet voice oddly contemplative.

Galen looked at Ru, surprised. Were they...blushing?

Feeling a wave of compassion for the Ravenclaw all of a sudden, Galen offered them a smile.

“...Yeah. It’s really nice, Ru. I’m sure it’ll be smashing when it’s done.”

Ru’s eyes stayed on Estrid, narrowing slightly.

“The way she moves...” they said lowly, “I’ve never seen anyone else move like that. Even other dancers. It...seems like something that shouldn’t just disappear into the void, when the moment is over...like everything does, sooner or later. I’ve tried to photograph her before, but it doesn’t capture the movement. Even when I take a lot of still pictures one right after another, or when I actively try to get shots that blur, it doesn’t work. And magical photographs...hmph! They’re an absolute joke. They deteriorate so easily, and their quality is atrocious.”

Galen smiled sympathetically. “Well, wizards really have only had them for a short while...I reckon they might need a little time to catch up, right?”

Ru scoffed loudly through their nose and mouth, sounding rather like an offended horse. “It’s pathetic.”

They rested their hands behind them on the floor, leaning back slightly.

“So...the only way I could try to capture the way she moves -- to make it last, past that moment, was to draw it. It’s not exactly easy to get her hands right, though,” they added sourly under their breath.

“Hands are every artist’s Achilles’s heel, I think,” said Galen with a quiet laugh.

His green eyes softened. “...You really care about Estrid a lot, don’t you?”

Ru’s face flushed a bit more darkly as they whirled on him with a glare.

“Don’t read too much into it, Stagg. I find her movements interesting. That’s all.”

Despite Ru’s denials, however, Galen thought to himself that Estrid was pretty lucky, to have someone in her life who’d put in so much effort to try to memorialize her in a lasting way. He wondered if Ru even realized just how sweet and selfless of an instinct that really was.

#hphl #hogwarts legacy #my art #my writing #ru ollivander #estrid soelberg #galen stagg #other people's mcs #I hope galen's written all right honey!#I couldn't find any writing samples for him so I kind of just used the characterization you put down for him as a kick-off point #of course galen is dressed like a proper student while ru is a friggin' mess #you might spot their silver 'bridle' chain around their neck under their collar #and yeah ru doesn't know how tf to sit properly with two legs even after all these years #this kid SLOUCHES CONSTANTLY #drawing their hair was fun though #I'd actually used some choreography done for the dance of the sugarplum fairy while doing that pencil test #it's basic as all get out but hey whatcha gonna do #it admittedly is still good practice for this one project I REALLY want to do for my blog's first anniversary coming up next month...#I love ru and their tsundereness regarding their feelings for estrid so much okay X3

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