#i've been meaning to get to this so much sooner (has been living in my head rent free the entire time prompting me to randomly reach for my

[deepersea]

oh my god i'm so happy that more people are thinking about himeru. this guy deserves everything good in the world and i want to hold him like a hamburger. i've been wanting to share my thoughts, so i'm glad you're letting us do so!

i often think about how he would treat his partner during their first time. i believe he would be sweet and understanding, and he would try to be gentle during the whole process and to attend their needs to satisfy them.

if they wanted to try something out with him, he would do it! i would absolutely request for him to let me sit on his face, i just know that this guy is too good with his mouth to the point where i would be left trembling... and flattened like a hamster.

however, i wouldn't want him to do all the work, y'know? he deserves to feel good in return, even if his partner's responses please him. i want to give him the biggest head he has ever gotten, coming from a virgin. it's kinda like when someone says "oh it's my first time" then proceeds to devour as if they were experienced... (i know i would be clumsy but let me dream)

moving on, i think he would try to take it slow and gentle with his partner, even though he would want to pound them (but that will be for another time). he would let them pick the position, then take care of the rest. he would praise them with loving words and actions, telling them how lovely they sound when they moan, and would tease them by rubbing against their sweet spot just to hear them make that little noise he loves again. it would be the most tender yet intense experience you would ever have, and you would end up wanting more no matter how exhausted you are because i know you want him. all night. the thirst for himeru is eternal

— 🍞

You and me both, 🍞, you and me both. It's like the rain after a drought. I've been so spoilt with everyone suddenly talking about him for a week straight, I felt like someone was pulling my leg at first. You're of course very welcome to join the merry band of Himeru ramblers.

And what an excellet topic to bring up! Excellent thoughts as well! you get it, 🍞. Please go right ahead and take your rightful place on his face. He'd be so happy to hear you requesting something, even more so if it gives him the opportunity to take care of you to his heart's content... just don't expect him to let you off until you're actually melting... flattened... don't worry, his hands are going to keep you in place until he's ready to let you off... in the meantime, get comfy.

Also, you showing initiative? Hot. I think your enthusiam would be sweeter to him than any technique, so you go devour that dick like it's your calling. I believe in you. Give him that vacuum seal double hand twist gawk gawk combo 3000. Also, I feel like if anything would get him flustered (and let's be real, we all want that) it'll be probably either that (he's trying so hard to last, just so you know) or telling him how much you love him. The latter always works for obvious reasons, but I feel like if you actually took the initiative like that during your first time, you'd really throw him for a loop. And I'm all for that!

And I wholeheartedly agree. It may not be his first time (though I don't think that he has all that much experience either) but you can count on him being just as thoughtful. Not only does he remember how it feels like being this vulnerable and open with someone and how it naturally takes time to get used to, but also... well, he also needs to get used to it with you as well. Which he wants to, so badly. So count on him giving it his all, whatever you could want. He doesn't strike me as the type to sleep with people unless he cares about them a great deal, and so of course he's going to take this as his golden opportunity to show you just how much he does. Meaning you won't have to worry about a thing. You'll be in the very best hands.

But yeah, prepare to be praised. You're doing amazing, taking him so well, feel so good. He may not be the most natural when it comes to declarations of love, but you can bet he'll use this occasion to let you know, be it with small encouragement and sweet whispers or simly his actions oozing affection. And if he finds that you handle a little teasing well... Well, you'll know that you're in for even more fun the moment you see that smirk at the corners of his mouth...

#lily answers #🍞 anon #sorry for the wait #i've been meaning to get to this so much sooner (has been living in my head rent free the entire time prompting me to randomly reach for my #phone to note down thoughts) but... life... #also i find it so funny that the hamster thing somehow stuck lmao #i laugh every single time someone makes the comparision #very glad people relate

[sheliesshattered]

I’m just so tired

#things with my dad are getting significantly worse. with terminal brain cancer that's pretty much the only direction things can go #but his mental state is deteriorating quickly. multiple massive brain tumors will do that to you but now it's accelerating #I described it to one of my siblings that it's like Dad's mind is a big jigsaw puzzle and for a year now it's been clear that #the once-whole puzzle is breaking into pieces. for awhile the pieces were still pretty big and he could still carry on a conversation well #he might not remember it 15 minutes later but get him talking about an old memory or something he's an expert on and he could just go on #I've been calling him twice a week for months now. since Mom first suggested we work on writing a book together #in the month since we decided to give that up as a lost cause Dad has gotten noticeably worse. he's gone from losing his train of thought #to talking complete nonsense in a scrambled combination of old memories and things he once read about -- smaller and smaller puzzle pieces #and as things have taken a downward term I know from talking to Mom separately that Dad is also having a lot of trouble with basic self care #balance and bathing and eating and knowing where he is and all kinds of things. all of which is made worse by his memory problems #and by the fact that he outweighs my mom by a good 100lbs. so when he fell in the tub and couldn't get himself out she had to call for help #had to have a church friend who is more than a foot taller than her drive over to help maneuver my dad out of the bathtub #he's also getting obstinate and angry and saying that my mom and my nb sibling who lives with them are the ones with mental problems #all of which means I think they're going to need in-home healthcare ASAP. if not a round-the-clock facility. it's coming sooner or later #but Dad still hasn't officially retired so he's still on his own insurance which apparentlydoesn't have any coverage for that sort of thing #so Mom has to get him to file the paperwork to officially retire and then get him on her insurance. hopefully without a huge confrontation #and I feel like we're running out of time. that he's going to need that care before all the paperwork has time to clear once its started #I feel like we've been barely surviving horrific river rapids and now I'm the ONLY one pointing out that there's a massive waterfall coming #ignoring it won't make it go away or take longer to get here. it'll just hit us with even fewer preparations in place #I have enlisted the help of siblings so hopefully we can convince Mom of the importance of getting the paperwork started #but Mom is so mired in her own grief and busy with work (and she can't quit bc of the health insurance) and unable to get the help she needs #that it's tricky to bring up any of this sort of thing in a helpful way. and all the while Dad is getting worse #meanwhile I'm trying to deal with my own grief and manage my own chronic health situation. and still call Dad twice a week just to chat #and holy hell I'm just so TIRED

[literaticat]

I'm at my wit's end. I've spent a decade trying to break through - 10 years with 5 novels coming super close with a variety of big publishers, who rave about my writing, ideas, etc. Feedback has been mostly positive. One even rejected saying "I don't know why we're rejecting this, it's EXACTLY what we're looking for and ticks all our boxes, but we feel compelled to reject it anyway." Is there just a "Do Not Publish" sign on my head? How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

(OP continues...) "Sorry about the rant, Jenn, and I know there's not much you can say as you don't know my specific situation. But it's just maddening. 10+ years of my life! I know everyone faces rejection, but I seem to mostly get positive feedback and so many "close calls" of almost getting a deal - a lot of interest, but then it just peters out. That "compelled to reject anyway" just made me start feeling like I'm just fated to never be published, no matter what? I'm unagented now, starting from scratch..."

OK first of all -- that rejection, if that is literally what they said, is utterly insane. I have to presume (HOPE? PRAY?) that you are paraphrasing, that that is what it *felt* like to you, but that's not LITERALLY what they said??? Because there are certainly things where, on the surface, yes, this is what a publisher is looking for and it "ticks the boxes", but ultimately, it doesn't have that X-factor, je ne sais quois, or whatever -- so I can see a publisher saying something like, "while the writing is admirable and the premise is interesting, ultimately, we weren't compelled enough to make an offer for publication" -- which is ALMOST what you said, but there's a key difference that makes it actually normal and not insane. Because in YOUR version, it sounds like they are under an imperius curse or something, where they don't know what they are doing or why they are doing it, they just have to do it, even though it is against what WOULD be their better judgment if they weren't cursed. And... it's wild to think that a publisher would make a statement like that. (Maybe they were having a very OFF DAY???) -- BUT ANYWAY, on to the crux of your question/rant:

I understand your frustration. If it makes you feel any better (??), you're not alone. I know many -- MANY -- MANY career authors, who spent 10 years honing their craft, trying and failing, getting rejections, getting close-but-no-cigars, etc. I was chatting with a wise (and now famous) author I know, who spent 10 years or so in the query/wrong-agent/rejection/close-call trenches. She told me a theory that I feel pretty sure is right, though I don't have proof per se, it does track with my observations. She said:

Just about everyone who sticks with writing or the arts in general as a career has about a ten-year rough patch. That doesn't mean it takes everyone ten years to get published! (Though it does take LOTS of people 10+ years) -- Some lucky people get their break a lot sooner than that. BUT. Everyone has to pay the piper that ten year fee, either all at once, or in installments. So let's say you sell your book right away and start raking in the accolades etc -- fab! Just know that nobody stays popular and beloved forever, and at some point, the ten year slump is coming for you. Aren't you lucky that you're getting yours out of the way now?

OK, if that didn't work for you, how about this:

How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

You know you don't have to, right?

Like, if writing and seeking traditional publication is making you miserable -- you can stop. In fact, stopping may be a great idea.

I say this not to be discouraging, but rather, encouraging, actually. I encourage you to give yourself permission to prioritize your own mental and emotional well-being.

If you realize you miss writing and can't live without it -- go back to it! But maybe instead of having "publication" as your goal, your goal can be writing for the pure joy of it, without worrying about future queries or would-be agents or anyone else's expectations. What freedom! Embrace that!

Then when you do have a brand-new shiny manuscript, you can decide your next steps. Maybe it's trying again for traditional publishing, and this is the turn around the track that changes everything. (It should be close, if the 10 year theory is correct!)

OR, maybe it's self-publishing. (Lots of people have a lot of success there -- maybe you're one of them!) --

OR, maybe it's just chilling out and writing some more for your own pleasure -- creating art for the sake of creating it, for fun, for self-fulfillment, etc. Like, you know, a normal hobby, that nobody is expecting you to monetize or make into a "gig".

[vaspider]

Pete Buttigieg is not the fucking point.

Truly amazed at the people whose big takeaway from that thread is "you hate Pete Buttigieg" like buddy did you not... read... all of it?

I genuinely don't give a shit about Pete himself. If you think this is about Democratic self-devouring or whatever the fuck, please mentally substitute Ellen or George Takei or Rachel Maddow or your favorite Other Respectable Gay. I hear some dude named Rubin is even a conservative who is getting turned on for adopting a baby? I don't know who he is and I don't care (do not tell me, I do not care) but if it makes you feel better, substitute any of those names.

I think the ones that actually make me sad are the people who keep insisting that 70% of people support gay marriage, and that I'm just 'acting out my trauma', and we won't see things turn against us, we're perfectly safe now, how dare I say that cishets won't put themselves out for us when it counts, it's different now.

Honey, 99% of people want tomorrow to go on pretty much like today, and what they'll support when it doesn't cost them anything has nothing to do with what they'll support when it does. Those of us telling you 'we were abandoned before, and we were the ones who took care of us then' aren't telling you because we're incorrigibly bitter misanthropes. I am annoyingly hopeful, actually, and in love with humanity and the beauty of life. Seriously, I have to write poems about it because I love the universe and all of humanity so fucking much. One of the things I love about humanity is its fragility and its uncertainty. I love the ways in which we fail.

And humans, over and over again, turn our eyes away from tragedy.

If you are lucky enough to have cishet friends and family who will put themselves out for you when it really matters, that is fucking fantastic. That's not nearly universal, and I'm afraid that you're going to find out sooner rather than later that it's far less universal for you than you'd like to believe.

At the end of the day, you can believe me or not about all of this. You can say that I'm just a bitter old transfag, an angry old dyke, a traumatized old queer if it lets you sleep better at night, if it allows you to just close your eyes and say 'this is all going to be fine, because 70% of people support marriage equality!' and get some rest. I can't make you pay attention.

And the thing is? I'd love to be wrong. I would absolutely love for every cishet who has ever said "one of them" or said "well, I mean, I just don't want to see it, they can do whatever they want in private" or whatever to turn out to be the raddest fucking ally the world has ever seen. I know it can happen! My in-laws went from being Baptist homophobes to getting weekly chatty update phone calls from the two trans women refugees from Latin America who they housed and helped get their papers sorted and who are now living in New York and call them Mom and Dad. Like, truly, it can fucking happen!

But you can't count on that from the vast majority of people, because when it comes down to it, most people want tomorrow to go on pretty much like today. You're much more likely to be able to count on someone with a dog in the hunt.

More than that, though, the point of that essay -- which, when people miss it, they miss it so hard that it feels deliberate, honestly -- is that all of our bullshit infighting doesn't mean dick. I've been saying that for years, begging people to think inclusively about our community, begging people to stop all the bullshit infighting because I could see this shit fucking coming, you didn't need to be Cassandra to see it coming but sometimes I felt like I was screaming until my throat was horse, the fucking tsunami is coming, it's coming, motherfuckers, can't you see the way the water is pulling back?

And here we are, and all the arguing about whether bi lesbians are "valid" doesn't matter, and everyone's attempt to gatekeep butch and femme doesn't matter, and everyone's arguments about whether neopronouns are bad doesn't fucking matter because we are all just fags, dykes and trannies to them, they do not care for one fucking second about any of this. None of them care for one second about our infighting. No one is going to stop and ask you what your orientation is so they can call you the right slur when they're gaybashing you, kids. They. Don't. Care.

So now here we are, and people are acting like the point of the essay is that I wanted to call one particular dude a fag, rather than that it doesn't matter how perfectly primed you are to fit into Respectable WASP Society, it is your queerness which is objectionable. It is your gayness. It is your transness. It is your bisexuality, your asexuality, your lesbianism. You will never be granted rights and respectability. You have to defend your rights, and stop giving a shit about respectability as a metric of whether or not someone deserves them.

I mean, for fuck's sake, some Iowa voters tried to withdraw their caucus support once they realized that Pete was gay. It literally fucking happened. There's video. Someone they supported above all the other candidates in the Iowa primary was immediately disqualified for them to the point where they tried to retract their support the minute they found out he was gay.

That's the fucking point. I don't care who you use as your Proxy Respectable Gay.

Pete Buttigieg is not the fucking point.

[for-a-longlongtime]

About shooting Triple Frontier, singing Moana songs on set, and The Hat

(disclaimer: this post includes some pap shots at the end, sorry. I'm conflicted about sharing them, even though these are really old at this point, but just given you a heads up in case you want to skip it - I've cropped them to show the hat on Oscar)

I've been meaning to make a post about this sooner, because a while ago I came across the Happy Sad Confused podcast (2019) where Oscar talks about shooting Triple Frontier - and it had some interesting things in it that weren't in the group promo for the movie. E.g. he talks about how he has videos of Pedro and Garrett singing Moana songs while holding assault rifles, "that's quite a bit of a mindfuck" (that tracks, I remember Bella talking about singing Moana songs with Pedro on the TLOU set).

About making the characters their own and bringing the story to the screen:

"There was not a ton of dialogue or backstory that you get to see about these guys. So there was an element of how do you show these people, how do you not make them anonymous? That didn't necessarily just jump out of the page. So a lot of that is trusting JC, and particularly trusting him in the edit. That's where he just, he really shines a lot - you can feel and trust that you can try a bunch of stuff. Things might not go great when you're shooting your production - the other was definitely a lot of like wrestling with ideas and things -, but in the edit, he sticks with it and he stays at it, and he is relentless."

At one point Oscar is asked about the Standard Heating Oil hat in the movie. For those of you who do not know the background story there; several years before Triple Frontier, Oscar worked with JC Chandor on a movie titled A Most Violent Year. He played Abel Morales, a Colombian born businessman who lives in Westchester, NY and owns the Standard Heating Oil company.

And we all know the hat Frankie (Morales...) wears in Triple Frontier:

Josh Horowitz from the Happy Sad Confused podcast is a real movie nerd, so he asked Oscar about it mentioning the JC Chandor Cinematic Universe. Here's what Oscar said:

"I know. That was, I gotta say, that was me, because I was like 'Can I, can I wear the Standard Hat?', and then he [JC] started thinking like 'Yeah, maybe', but then he was like 'It's too much, but Pedro can wear it'. And I was like okay, alright!"

Which brings me to my last point...

We know about those beach pics that were snapped of Oscar, Garrett, Charlie -- and then another set of them with Pedro and Tom Ben -- when they were in Hawaii to shoot Triple Frontier, right? As Oscar mentions in the interview, it seems like someone from the team [I'm assuming he means crew] ended up tipping off the paps for those photo ops.

I just randomly came across a much bigger set of those photos than I've seen before, and my heart suddenly stopped. Because...

...Oscar is wearing Frankie's hat?

Oscar is wearing FRANKIE'S STANDARD HEATING OIL HAT.

I mean.

I know it is/was Oscar's hat first, and I think it was @legendary-pink-dot who mentioned that a bunch of people on the crew had them, but as far as I can see, this was the only moment he was captured wearing it - so I love it. I'm having a moment.

If you haven't heard Oscar on Happy Sad Confused before, check out the podcast here.

tagging some folks for heads up: @sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot @magpiepills @perotovar @romanarose @penvisions @prolix-yuy @writefightandflightclub @ezrasbirdie @astroboots @pimosworld @alltheglitterandtheroar @nerdieforpedro @wardenparker

ok my brain is asleep at this point, so consider this a tag for everybody

#triple frontier #pedro pascal #oscar isaac #garrett hedlund #charlie hunnam #Spotify

[familyvideostevie]

Okay what about James and reader who doesn’t like physical touch normally but likes being close to James and he’s surprised cause she doesn’t normally like it but he loves it anyway (Also Happy New Year <3 🎊)

my first james fic!! i hope you like this, my dear. happy new year! | fem!reader, fluff, 1k

James has been infatuated with you from the start, of course. Not that he'd tell you that. He's barely maintaining his composure around you as it is, and now you're his girlfriend. He supposes that he's got nothing to be embarrassed about, really. He's managed to keep it together long enough for you to figure out that you, for some reason, like him enough to date him. He liked being friends with you but he loves this. 

Before, he always tried to be very carful with your boundaries -- he still is, obviously. You don't like to be touched with familiarity without warning, and he sees how even a casual hand on your back can make you tense. It's no trouble at all for him to let you dictate when you want hugs or an extra hand or anything at all, even if he's normally quite tactile. Everyone abides by your comfort level, no problem.

In hindsight, he should have realized much sooner that you liked him because you've always let him touch you more than anyone else. His elbow is the one you go for when you need to be steadied, his side the one you tuck into in a crowd, his cheek the one you kiss goodbye. 

And now that you're dating? Well, the boundary has shifted, for sure, but he's not entirely sure to what degree. He really needs to ask you about it. Because, as it is, you're touching him much more. So much that he feels dizzy with it sometimes, which is a little embarrassing considering you're sleeping together these days. An arm around his waist shouldn't make him feel so...much.

You're walking home from the pub one night in the middle of the street when he decides to ask you.

"And then Remus said that the bird had not only gotten into the pantry, but it got into Sirius' weird collection of --" You look at him and frown when you find that he's already staring at you, looking lovesick as anything. "James, are you listening to me?"

"Not really," he says. "You're so pretty that I think my ears stopped working." You blow a raspberry at him and tighten your hold. Your arms are linked together and you've got one hand on his bicep, fingertips gently stroking the denim of his jacket. His hands flex in his pockets. 

"Darling, can I ask you something?" he says. He hopes the pet name will offset the next bit. "I don't want you to take it the wrong way, though."

You laugh and it makes his stomach turn over. "Great way to start." You reach out and push a loose lock of hair back from his forehead, careful not to knock his glasses. 

"Just listen, alright?" He can feel every point of contact between you like a live wire. Maybe he can convince you to take a shower with him tonight just to feel your fingertips on his scalp. "You aren't very, uh, touchy," he says. "I know that. We all know that."

You hum and squeeze his arm a little. Good sign, he thinks. "But I..." His face feels hot. Why is this embarrassing? He's got you in his bed, hasn't he? "You don't seem to mind when I do it?" His voice goes up at the end and he feels a bit like a schoolboy talking to his first crush. You must know that you're the only one who can get him like this.

You tug him to a stop and turn in the middle of the street to look at him, eyebrows high on your forehead. Fuck, he thinks. You really are pretty. Your mouth opens and what comes out is a peal of laughter. Your hands unwind from his arm and settle loosely at his collar as you laugh with your entire body. James wonders if he should be offended. 

"Hey, now," he says. "I'm just checking. I'm five seconds way from shoving my cold hands up your shirt to see if you like it then--"

"I wouldn't mind," you interrupt him, giggles fading. "James, I don't mind when it's you. I thought it was obvious that I've never minded. I mean, you're my boyfriend now." You look at little shy as you clarify the end bit. He tries not to smile too wide so you don't get embarrassed, instead squeezing your hip with one hand. 

"I sure am," he says softly. "But, why? Why don't you mind with me, I mean?"

You shrug. "I don't know," you say, smoothing down his collar. "It's just different with you. Because it's you. I don't know how to explain it." 

He softens even more. What is he supposed to do with all of the affection he has for you? If you didn't want him to touch you as much, he'd figure it out, but he's glad that you allow it. "Okay," he says. He runs a hand up and down your side and you lean into his chest more heavily. "I like touching you, is all. I like having you close. But tell me if you ever don't want it, alright?"

You nod. He knows that you know this, but it's good to remind you that he's not trying to take you for granted in any way. "James Potter," you say. He shivers a little. "You're such a sap." Before he can tease you back you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him right there in the middle of the street. It's more smile than kiss but he doesn't mind. "Is this close enough for you?" you say against his mouth. He pinches your ribs before he circles your waist with his arms and gently walks you backwards a few steps, lips trailing up your cheek. 

"I'd like to touch you at home now, please," he says. You wiggle out of his hold and jog ahead of him, spinning on your heel.

"Race you!" you call. The breath is knocked out of him at your smile. He's absolutely pathetic for you and he doesn't care one bit. 

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders

[gold-snek-hoe]

Hello and welcome to Opinions from an Internet Nobody. Today's essay:

"Ger therapy" is the new "You need Jesus": One Weirdo's Navigation through Cultural Shame

This is a supposedly well-meaning sentiment that is often weaponized against people who are behaving outside of perceived cultural norms. It's a favorite of homophobes who see queerness/transness as a mental illness, but I've been seeing it used to demonize kink (which historically is often linked to queerness), and more generally any "weird" behavior that makes people uncomfortable.

For example, otherkin, systems (especially those with fictives), and people who take fictional characters as partners. Y'know, "weirdos" who "can't separate reality from fiction." And, sure, sometimes there can be a problem with that distinction, but I know as well as you that most internet strangers saying "get therapy" don't actually give a shit about the mental health of those they target. It's code for "your behavior makes me uncomfortable, stop it."

Same sentiment as "you need Jesus."

This has actually taken me a long time to figure out. I've been in therapy for my entire adult life, working through various traumas, severe depression, anxiety, all that. Those were the biggest problems as they negatively impacted, and often endangered, my life. It was only after my hospitalization in 2020, where I was finally put on much needed medication, that I could start to grow into myself.

I changed my name. I top surgery. I came out as polyamorous. I finally got my official autism diagnosis. Now I'm fuckin' married! But... there are still things I'm working through in therapy. Mainly, shame over my "weirder" behaviors. My current therapist has been a huge blessing in helping me accept the things I was too ashamed to admit.

Now, I feel comfortable enough to share.

I'm otherkin. Always have been. My connection to my humanity is tenuous, and I'm sure that's connected to my autism. When mad, I feel phantom horns sprouting from my forehead. I have a tail that swishes back and forth at the base of my spine. In my soul, I am monstrous, and years of therapy has not erased that.

I feel like I'm only half in the physical world most of the time. This doesn't hinder my real-world success (I graduated college Summa Cum Laude, have an IMDB page, and am on my third book), but informs the way I look at the world. There's a whole other universe in my head that hums along with me in my day-to-day. That's part of why I'm so skilled as a writer. To ask me to divorce from that is to tell me to stop existing. Sorry, it's how I've always operated.

Lastly, and this is the one I'm really anxious about, I have a fictional husband. Now, looking at my blog, you might say "yeah, no shit," but I don't just ship myself with him. I mean I practice pop-culture Witchcraft, and the Goblin King is my patron. I mean I have a Labyrinth-themed tarot deck that I talk to him with. I mean I held a ritual to spiritually marry him. Basically, I Snape-wived myself.

And guess what? My therapist isn't concerned. It's not hurting my ability to live my life. I have other interests, hobbies, and goals outside of him, which he actively encourages in all our tarot sessions! I wouldn't be doing this if he didn't support me. My IRL spouse is usually there for whatever magical shit I'm doing, and supports me! Some of my closest friends know, and the only complaint I've gotten is "this guy seems important to you, I wish you told me sooner." Hell, my MOTHER knows and supports me, which is huge, because our relationship was pretty damaged after I came out as trans.

If you have a problem with the way I live my life, when literally nobody else does, take a good long look at why. You don't give a fuck about my mental health. You just don't like that I'm weird.

Tl;dr: My mental health is better than it's ever been since embracing the weird, so leave me and my imaginary husband Marak Sixfinger alone.

#essay #in this essay i will #and then i did #the hollow kingdom #goblin king #marak sixfinger #actually autistic #pop culture witchcraft #otherkin #fictional husband #snape wives #this is my life #therapy language #bullying #mental health #discourse #tw suicide mention #fictives #y'all just hate weirdos #just say you hate neurodivergent people and go #neurodivergent #vivid imagination

[llyfrenfys]

Sooner or later I've gotta make a better post regarding the appropriation of indigenous terminology by proponents of (certain kinds of) Welsh nationalism. But for now here's a very whistle-stop version of that post. I have a degree in Celtic Studies so these topics are very near and dear to my heart.

[Note: I wrote this post originally during a migraine. I'm revisiting the draft while I'm ill but hopefully can fix this up into something somewhat understandable. As always, this is only a very brief description of the history and I strongly reccomend reading about these topics in your own time to develop a deeper understanding of them. These are topics not even well known in Britain, but if you can spend a short time just to read this, you can help to combat misinformation about British (particularly Welsh) history - and that could aid in preventing the misappropriation of history in the long run. Diolch eto for reading!]

Very often, (certain) Welsh nationalists use terminology that positions the Welsh as if they are an 'indigenous' population who have been 'colonised'. They use language (which in this climate) heavily draws upon the language typically used for peoples who are the victims of British colonialism (of which Wales was an active participant). There's multiple issues with this and many of them lie in whether its appropriate to use this language (regardless of its accuracy or not) as a country which was actively involved in the colonisation of much of the world. What I mean in short is that additional language is needed which doesn't step on the toes of endangered cultures and groups directly affected by British colonialism.

Wales not only participated in British colonialism as a whole (alongside Scotland, Ireland* and England) but itself colonised parts of patagonia in Argentina.

I can't think of any similar terminology to 'indigenous' or 'colonised' which would also get the idea which is meant across. 'Native' in certain contexts is permissible, e.g. 'native speaker' in the context of a Welsh speaker. But in other contexts other than langauge, things get tricky when you argue 'nativeness' (this is a topic I will come back to - especially re. Celtic as a language descriptor vs Celtic as a so-called ethnicity). When (certain) Welsh nationalists talk about being 'indigenous' , being 'native' or 'colonised' what is meant by that?

(Map of the expansion of the Bronze Age Bell Beaker culture circa 2400 BC in Britain and Ireland) - from this map

What makes a Welsh person 'indigenous' to this island that doesn't immediately disqualify other peoples who also have a deep history here? Historically, the island of Britain has been lived on by many, many peoples.

In the Bronze Age you had the arrival of the Bell Beaker people. Then in the Iron-Age, you had tribes speaking (mostly) Brittonic. I say mostly, because we have direct evidence that in the Iron Age Gaulish speaking tribes also moved to parts of Britain but later became integrated with the rest of the population (which, I will add, were not a united peoples but a scattering of different groups who often went to war against each other). Then the Romans invaded Britain (and much of Western Europe) and over time integrated into the local population. So now Britain is Romano-British. Eventually the Western Roman Empire collapses and Britain enters into the sub-Roman Britain phase of its existence. Kingdoms begin to form, with the population speaking Brittonic and British-Latin. So you have different kingdoms in (what would become Wales) and in (what would become Northern England and Southern Scotland) you have more Brittonic-speaking kingdoms.

These kingdoms were also not a united peoples. They shared a language - but it's like claiming that Ancient Greeks were a united people simply because they all spoke Greek. Sparta, Athens, Cornith etc. were independent of each other and the same is true of the kingdoms of the Hen Ogledd (the Old North) and the kingdoms of Wales. They all had a common language but also went to war with each other sometimes. Eventually, the Brittonic language began to diverge into different languages. Namely, Old Welsh and Cumbric (the language spoken in what is today Cumbria, Lancashire, Northumberland and Southern Scotland). The two languages were still very closely related but had diverged by a certain point.

At the same time this is happening, Anglo-Saxons begin to arrive in what is now Kent. They form kingdoms and the Britons living there are either displaced or become absorbed into the Anglo-Saxon populace. Then the Norse rock up and conduct viking raids around the coast before finally settling in parts of the country and forming their own territories.

So now Britain has several groups living on the island (keeping in mind even before settlement from the Anglo-Saxons and the Norse that the British kingdoms were already composed of different groups themselves). Northern Scotland was also having a time re: Picts, Gaels and Britons - but we'll gloss over that for brevity. Also, Ireland was also raiding the Welsh coast at this time too.

Then the Normans rock up and in 1066 William the Conqueror, well, conquers. More history happens after this point but I will try and keep this as brief and as non-messy as I can.

So, to recap:

One of the earliest cultures in Britain was the Bell Beaker people in the Bronze Age. They had their lands settled by the Iron Age Britons ('Celts'). Then the Romans came and the 'Celts' became Romano-Britons. After the Western Roman Empire collapses the remaining population forms kingdoms with distinct political identities. These kingdoms eventually find themselves fighting the Anglo-Saxons and the Norse. Then the Normans turn up and so on and so forth.

So- which group is the original native group to Britain? (Trick question - this question cannot be satisfactorily answered in favour of one group without leaning into claims of historicity which the other groups can also claim).

Which brings me to modern Welsh identity and those who came before.

Something I see in Welsh nationalist groups is a claim to the legacy (or even claims of direct descendance from) the Iron Age Britons (commonly called Celts for shorthand, but as I said before I'm gonna get back to that point). And this narrative is what the "Welsh people are native to Britain" argument is based off of.

It may seem like #praxis to argue the Welsh people are the true inhabitants of Britain and the English are evil invaders. But you have to make *several* logical leaps to get to that point if you're genuinely arguing that point.

For starters, many more people than just the Britons (read: Romano Britons/early Brittonic kingdoms) have called Britain home since the Early Middle Ages. For example, there's the settlement of Scotland by the Gaels, the Irish settlement of certain parts of costal Wales. You have (much later) Roma and traveller groups, Jewish diaspora and many more diverse cultures and peoples existing in Britain at this time. The Romano-British population, which developed into the Early Middle Ages kingdoms of Wales and the Hen Ogledd, was also multicultural. Many black Romans started families with white Britons. By the sub-Roman period, Britain was ethnically and culturally diverse.

But those who argue in favour of a such thing as 'Celtic ethnicity' in order to support the idea Britons (and only Britons) were native to these islands typically imagine that history as white. White Brits, white Romans, white Gaels. When we know this isn't true. Did you know that the Northernmost Ancient Egyptian temple in the world is in Yorkshire because Roman Egyptians in the military brought their religion with them? Mary Beard did a fantastic documentary about a Roman Soldier from modern day Syria who was stationed at Hadrian's Wall who started a family with a British woman. Point is, that some people like to imagine a purely white Britain that they can pine for. And I'm afraid it simply isn't true. The version of history many white supremacists look to simply didn't exist.

I'll quickly bring up one last point before I draw this to a close. And it's about Celtic as a linguistic term vs Celtic as a so-called ethnicity. You see, any first year Celtic Student would tell you that there is no such thing as 'Celts'. Crazy, I know from people studying *Celtic* studies. But hear me out - there is good reasoning why (beyond language groups) Celtic is not a good term for describing an ethnic group. Much of it relates to what I've already mentioned, but we categorise Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Mann, Cornwall and Brittany as Celtic not because of the ethnicity of the people living there (which I've mentioned is pretty diverse) but because they are all places where Celtic languages are spoken. It wasn't until Edward Llwyd (d. 1709) that the term Celtic was coined to describe these languages. Up until that point, nobody was thinking of Irish and Welsh as related because the languages do not sound like they have a common origin. By extension, people didn't think of the Welsh and Irish as being the same peoples (or Celtic) either. Its only in the modern day there is a sense of Celtic identity. The Iron Age Britons were not going around calling themselves Celts. There was no common Celtic identity. But very often people argue Celticness based on a pseudohistory which insists on a false and misleading interpretation of history. Whether or not Celticness exists now is a different matter entirely. But it sure does not rest upon race or ethnicity as a qualifier. This is quite foundational stuff to first year and above Celtic Scholars, but is not generally well known outside of academia because the misinformation is quite strong. So if you read is far, diolch mawr and please share this with anyone you think might be interested in it. Any amount of knowledge of these things would greatly improve understanding of what it means to be Welsh and what it means to speak a Celtic language.

Lastly,

all of that begs us to ask the question:

What does it mean to claim nativeness in a Western European context?

More under the cut

What does it mean to claim nativeness in a Western European context? Especially in a Western Europe post-colonialism.

It means, to me, to claim what isn't our right to claim. To argue and make our points with language that isn't ours and isn't designed to be ours. That this language of indigeneity may sound appealing, but is it improper to use this terminology when our country was directly responsible for the atrocities in which this very language became relevant?

What do we do in response to the misinterpretation of our culture instead of relying on language of indigeneity? These are the questions I want to leave you with and invite you to share your thoughts on. How do we build a Wales which advocates for itself without relying upon inaccurate language which betrays a reliance upon the ahistorical to make its point?

What kind of Wales do we want to live in?

#cymraeg #welsh #cymru #cymry #cymblr #Wales #welsh language #welsh nationalism #nationalism #indigeneity #? #white supremacist mention #white nationalism cw #please add on if you have any thoughts on the matter - I'd love to hear other's takes on the topic! #this post was also mostly made when I was ill/had a migraine so it may not be perfect #but gets most of what I want across well enough I think

[atwas-meme-ing]

HEY ALL!!! If you haven't heard, Unity is gonna start charging devs 20 cents per download. Not per sale, but PER DOWNLOAD. This applies to not only big-name games like Hollow Knight and Ori, but also smaller projects that might be free. This includes mobile games made with Unity, Undertale fan games like Undertale Yellow and Deltatraveler, and also, get this: Murder of Sonic! It was made in Unity, and so far, it's still free, but Sega's gonna hafta start charging for it sooner or later- IF they don't decide to take it down completely.

So, on this note, I have 2 things to say:

Get your favorite games NOW. Some devs, like Team Cherry, are talking about "taking their games down" (so much for Silksong- thanks A LOT, Unity!!!). I don't know if that means you'll still be able to play these games- like on Steam, for instance- if you already have them downloaded.

Please, please, PLEASE, support those games that are made with Unity. 20 cents adds up when there's a million downloads, and if it's like a mobile game, where people don't necessarily have to pay for it, that's going to COST the devs money- a LOT of money. I know we all hate the paywalls and "pay-to-win" schemes in mobile games, but let's be real- crap like this Unity thing are the whole reason those paywalls exist! These devs aren't doing this for free, they're trying to make a living! Even if you only spend $1, only 1 time, that is STILL going to be an 80 cent profit over the new Unity costs, and maybe, just maybe, give some game devs enough incentive to keep the game around.

I know Unity has a bad rep because it's easy to use and allows devs to release games that control poorly because you don't have to be good at coding to do it (*cough* Guardian of Lore *cough*). That's why I haven't used Unity, despite having several game ideas in my head, because I don't know how to code (yet), and I didn't want to release a game like that- and now I never will use Unity. But games like all the ones I've mentioned are proof that Unity CAN be used for good games, in the right hands. So please, if you love a game made with Unity, please support it, so the game doesn't go away. Don't send the devs into bankruptcy just because Unity is a money-grubbing so-and-so.

(Oh, I should also mention, for browser-based games, apparently this "per download" thing also includes "per BROWSER REFRESH". So, yeah, please don't blame the devs, support the devs and blame Unity.)

EDIT: It's not quite as bad as I'd thought. I knew Unity had a threshold, but I thought it was an either/or thing- either a certain number of downloads, or a certain amount of money made from a game. And, it's not, it's both.

So free games (like Murder of Sonic) apparently won't be affected.

Here's their pricing schedule once the threshold is met:

It still adds up for the smaller projects, with Unity taking all or most of the revenue from smaller games.

And one thing that's still bothering me: the install threshold is "life to date" and Unity is charging per install over the threshold. So, if a game's been around for years and had a million downloads and has made 200,000 dollars in the last year, they're gonna end up paying that 200,000 all at once.

At least, that's what I'm reading.

So, ok, I was wrong. Free projects won't be affected. But this is still awful, especially when it's first starting out.

EDIT 2 (2023-09-23): They've lessened the fees:

I'm still not using them. They never had a good reputation- I mean, there's good Unity games, but there's also a lot of bad ones because people can just release games with Unity with no coding experience. I want to make games someday, but I want them to be a good quality, so I'm waiting until I can actually figure out C++ (heck, I'm still wading through HTML, I'm nowhere near real programming languages). As long as I have to learn coding to make something good, I might as well find an engine that I can trust. I hear a lot about Godot. I also think I'll want to look at Monogame, because Monogame was used to make Axiom Verge and Celeste, and it's apparently based on the defunct XNA that was used to make Stardew Valley. Or I'll find something else. But not Unity. I just don't trust them.

#unity #unity engine #unity3d #game design #game development #indie game development #murder of sonic the hedgehog #hollow knight #ori #undertale fan games #deltatraveler #undertale yellow #Youtube

[logyisthemaincharacter]

Daddy's home

Series link

A/n: I have no idea why this took me so long to write. I'll try to release the next 2 parts sooner though.

"He's not gonna hate you." I stand in between Jack's legs as he's sitting on the edge of my bed, playing with his wet hair.

"And if he fucks me up? Are you still gonna say that he doesn't hate me?" He rubs the back of my thighs.

"You're being paranoid." I kiss his head and move away. "Now go put your bag in the car before my dad notices that you slept over. He'll be here in a few minutes."

"Thanks for the heads-up, but I think he'll notice the wet hair." He shoves his things into his overnight bag. "Not to mention that my car is parked in your driveway."

"Your parents live across the street. You'll just say you were there." I pull him outside, grabbing his car keys along the way. "And then you came over, and I realized we have no ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, so we went to get them quickly."

"You really thought everything through, haven't you?"

We reach the car, and he quickly puts his bag inside. As he's closing the door, I jump on his back.

"We don't have time for playing around. He'll be here soon." Jack states as he heads back inside with me on his back.

Time seems to crawl as we wait. It feels like hours, but in reality, it's only about 30 minutes. We keep glancing at the clock, hoping that my dad would show up soon.

We had prepared the place, making sure everything is tidy and presentable. I want to make a good impression, not just for Jack but for myself as well. After all, it's the first time he's visiting me in my first home.

Even though I assured Jack that my father would like him, the nerves in the pit of my stomach grow bigger with each passing second. My dad has always been super protective, and his opinion definitely matters when it comes to who I'm dating.

I'm even more anxious about how he'll act to Jack being 7 years older than me. I mean, I get it. Age differences can raise eyebrows and make people question things, and my dad is most definitely gonna have his concerns about it. But here's the thing, age ain't nothing but a number when it comes to love, right?

I want my dad to see that Jack and I have this amazing connection that goes beyond age. It's about the way he makes me feel, the way he supports me, and the way we understand each other. I hope my dad can look past the numbers and see the real love we share.

He wants the best for me, and he's just trying to protect me. I get that. I just hope he can see that Jack is a good guy, someone who treats me right and respects me.

I just hope that he'll give Jack a chance and see all the wonderful qualities that I see in him. I want him to understand that Jack is not only my partner but also my best friend.

Just as I switch the kettle on, we hear my father's car pulling up outside. I rush to the door, my heart pounding with excitement. Opening the door, I see my father, a warm smile on his face.

"Dad! I missed you!" I embrace him tightly.

"I missed you just at much, my princess." He lifts me up as he hugs me. "The house has been so empty without you."

"Dad, it's only been a few months. I've been gone longer when I was in college." I pull back as he puts me back down on the ground.

Dad's eyes move between living room and the kitchen, nodding with approval. "You did good here. And it smells amazing. Did you bake your famous chocolate chip cookies?"

"You know me too well." I walk out on the patio, calling Jack as he's running around with Ginger. "Bear, my dad's here!"

"Bear." Dad chuckles, rolling his eyes. "I thought you hated it when Melissa called me silly pet names."

"Well, Melissa was my English teacher. She already went over the top when I had to deliver your letters after school. Calling you 'babe' in my presence was just gross." I make a gagging noise.

"I thought she was your favorite teacher." He furrows his brows, tilting his head. "You always ranted on for hours about how intense she spoke about the books you read."

"And you always went on and on about the poems she wrote you. You didn't say much about what was written in them."

"Hey! That's my business, young lady."

Jack enters through the patio door with Ginger right behind him. He smiles nervously as he sees the big, buff man behind me. "Sir, it's great to finally meet you." He leans forward, holding his hand out for my dad to shake.

My dad, on the other hand, is frozen now. His eyes widen, his jaw drops, and his face is slowly turning pale. It's clear to see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out how it's possible that Jack Harlow is standing in front of him. He doesn't even notice Ginger bouncing at his feet.

I place my hand on his arm, shaking him a little. "Dad, this is my boyfriend, Jack. You probably know him already." I let out a nervous chuckle. "And this little girl by your feet is Ginger." I squeeze my Dad's arm the whole time to try and snap him out of his daze. "Jack, this is my dad, Carter Morgan."

My dad finally lifts his hand and shakes Jacks. "It's good to meet you too." He continues shaking Jack's hand viciously, gripping it hard. "This isn't a prank, right?"

Jack, struggling to get his hand away, finally shakes free from my father, "No, sir. This is all real."

"Why don't the 2 of you go sit down while I make coffee?" I push them out of the kitchen.

I watch as they go to sit down across each other. Jack tries to make small talk, seeing that my dad is still stunned. It takes just a while before I join them with the coffee and cookies that I assembled on a floral tray. I take a seat on the floor, Ginger resting in my lap.

"How did you two meet? I've only heard bits and pieces." Dad asks, grabbing 3 cookies from the tray, clearly more comfortable.

I chuckle at his sudden change of mood, "His parents actually live across the street. They're the neighbors who are so kind to me."

"Then I have to meet them." Dad mumbles with a full mouth.

I widen my eyes at him, "Dad! It's not like we're getting married."

"Not yet, anyway." Jack winks at me, causing my face to turn a bright shade of red. "I'll organize something with them for tomorrow night if it's okay with you, sir."

"That sounds like a good idea to me." Dad leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "It sounds like you really have your heart set on my daughter since you want to marry her one day. Did you say that because you mean it or did you say it because you want to please me?"

Jack gulps slightly but tries to keep his charm, "Sir, I really meant what I say. Ever since I met Logan, there wasn't a moment when I hadn't wanted her in my life."

Dad grabs his coffee, growing more serious by the second, "Logan's well-being is my top priority." He takes another cookies and dips it in the coffee, "She's been rambling on about you for weeks, and I can see that she truly cares about you, but I want to make sure you're aware of the potential challenges that come with being in a relationship with a world-famous rapper. Are you prepared for that?"

Jack looks at me before answering, "Sir, I understand where you're coming from. I know being in the public eye can be tough, and I want you to know that I've thought about it. I care deeply about Logan, and I'm willing to face those challenges head-on."

I move up to sit on the couch and look my dad straight in the eyes, "Dad, I appreciate your concern, but Jack and I have talked about this extensively. We're aware of the cons that might come with our relationship, but we believe in each other and our ability to navigate through them. And besides, I'm a grown woman." My voice grows more firm with every word, "You don't have to worry about me anymore."

"I trust your judgment, but I want you both to be fully aware of what you might encounter. Jack, there will be scrutiny, paparazzi, and a lack of privacy. It could put a strain on your relationship."

"You're just trying to cause an argument now." I groan, making my annoyance very clear.

Jack gives me a nod, signaling that he'll do the talking further on. I grab a few cookies and eat them frustratingly in silence. "I understand that it won't be easy. But Logan and I have had conversations about this, and we're committed to supporting each other through any challenges. We're prepared to prioritize our relationship and find ways to maintain our privacy when needed."

Dad's eyebrows raise in surprise, indicating that he didn't expect such a heartfelt and committed response from Jack. His body becomes more relaxed and open, with a warm smile appearing on his face.

"Jack, just remember that Logan is my daughter, and I expect you to treat her with love, respect, and understanding, especially during the tough times."

"Mr. Morgan, I promise you that I'll always treat Logan with the utmost respect and support her through any difficulties." Jack turns his head to look at me. His gaze is warm and comforting, making me feel safe and cherished. I can see the admiration and adoration in his eyes, and it fills my heart with pure joy. "She means the world to me, and I'll do everything in my power to make our relationship thrive."

"You didn't have to be so hard on him." I walk up the stairs ahead of my dad, helping him carry some of his things.

"He had to know who he's dealing with. He might have shocked me with his identity, but you're still my little girl." He carries the heavy suitcase effortlessly.

We stop at the top of the stairs, and I allow him to take a look around, "That's the bathroom you'll be using, and the laundry room is right next to it." I open the door to the second bedroom of the house. "This is supposed to be a bedroom, but I turned it into a cozy office space so I can get more work done."

"And where will I be sleeping, young missy?" Dad leaves his suitcase by the door, confusion spread over his face.

"That's why I have my friend over here." I place his things on my desk and unfold the sleeper couch. "I figured that there would be situations like these. And it's big enough for someone your size."

"What about pillows and something to cover me up?" He pulls his bag closer.

"Oh, all of that is in the wardrobe over there." I point to the corner of the room while unplugging my laptop so I can take it downstairs with me.

"You really thought of everything, didn't you?" He sits down on the edge of the sleeper couch. "When did my little girl grow up so fast?"

I lean against the desk, folding my arms, "It's like time zoomed by. I can't believe how much things have changed."

"You've grown into such an incredible woman. I couldn't be prouder of the person you've become." His eyes turn red, indicating that the tears aren't far behind.

"Don't cry, Dad!" I walk over to sit next to him, hugging him from the side. "It's all thanks to you. Your love and guidance have shaped me into the person I am today."

I've come to realize that no matter how independent I become, I'll always need my dad. He's my rock. And no matter how far apart we are, I know that he'll always be by my side, supporting me every step of the way.

"I love you, Flower. Today and every day."

"I love you too, Dad. Thank you for being the best father a girl could ask for."

#jack harlow #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you #jackman thomas harlow

[puppetmaster13u]

@f4nd0m-fun here (I hope they allow us to ask with secondary blogs soon)

Just how wild do you like your Batfam cryptids? I've got ideas for days.

One is a wing fic where all the bats essentially end up half demon. Thomas and Martha make a deal with Alfred to help fix the city and clean up the curses and everything, and. Alfred asks for 'the souls of your descendants' at the point, not caring much for humanity but hoping to get ahead of those pesky demons in his soul collection (so and so said he has Constantine's soul but that's only a piece! What about a bunch of souls that have been tainted by the spirit of a city that has never had reason to hope? Now those are some rare and dark souls).

The Waynes were hoping he'd take their souls instead but he refuses (maybe they're too full of hope or something) but, over time, he grows attached and ends up giving Bruce a shard of his power, allowing him to transform into a demonic winged form based on an animal for his protection after his parents die. When he's young the form is a snowy owl, but once he come back and became Batman his wings have changed. Each of the babies is the same way. As Robin, they gain their baby wings, but, once they move to a new name, their wings evolve.

'The Demon's Head' isn't just a fancy title, the Al'ghul's are demon descended, so Damien is at least a quarter demon even at the beginning, but Alfred's power can't be passed genetically like they thought, so he was born grounded. In this, he shows up sooner, Talkia asking Jason to take Damien with him to his father since she knows her father will kill him for being wingless.

Tim, poor baby. He couldn't fly as Robin because his wings were a shattered mimicry of Jason's Robin wings. He felt like he was in the shadow of the previous Robin, making the 'replacement' nickname sting even more, but, eventually, he grows into the wings of a cardinal and learns to fly.

I'm not sure if Alfred marks Barbara as his person, but if not, maybe he regrets not doing so, thinking that she might not have ended up paralyzed if he'd given her power. But also she's not really considered a 'Wayne descendant' life the kids Bruce adopted, so he'd have to directly make the deal with her. Maybe he does this with Stephanie when she comes along, still thinking about how Barbara might've been better off with a deal. Also, he keeps trying to hold off on gathering their souls because he's grown attached. I figure he'd probably end up wanting to turn them into proper demons too tho when they eventually die but, for now, until the city has been restored (if it ever will be), the Batfam is essentially immortal, and Alfred might be pulling some strings so no one realizes the Waynes are as well. As a side note, I debated Alfred x Lady Gotham for this story.

-

Then I had a dpxdc version of this where the wings were still demonic in origin but basically Scarecrow and Bruce are many many family lines removed cousins from an ancestor who was siblings with Jack Nightingale. On top of that, Danny had wings but they got charred when he was electrocuted. This one also has Clock x Pariah and they have wings due to something to do with ghosts, Danny gets a cloak made out of their feathers while his ghost side slowly grows its own wings (but he'll never have wings as a living again).

-----

Sorry for the long send, I got a bit carried away, but if you want I can dig up my AU again and share what I have for the wings at least, not sure what else I've got written down.

#colony of bats AU

Honestly I love both of these ideas, but what if they were say, combined.

Alfred gifts Bruce a shard of his power- everyone knows the Waynes have wings, even if in most cases too small to fly. But the wings are feathered, usually bright and flashy for the men who inherit the trait.

Which means they're very identifiable. But like you said, Alfred gets (ugh) attached to this little mortal. He's practically raised him and honestly thinks it's adorable watching him manipulate the other richfolk at galas into thinking he's such a "polite young man." Bruce is practically his baby!

So he gifts him a bit of his blood (which we know via Constantine can extend ones lifespan including giving them a bit of healing) and an itty bitty piece of his own power. Just enough for Bruce to be able to willingly call upon it. Just enough for him to disappear into shadows. Just enough for his eyes to gain a hint of an unholy glow. Just enough for a hint of claws. Just enough for feathered wings to shift into jagged mimicries of his own.

You know what could be an interesting thing? The wings are Realms in origin. We know the FentonNightingales separated into the Fentons and Nightingales some time after Jack, so whose to say that the Nightingales didn't get into magic. Perhaps they were given a gift to thank them after a bit of protection or assistance. And the infinite realms are well, infinite. It attaches to all worlds, including say the more demonic ones. But whose to say none of the Fentons made a deal or three in the generations following. They were witch hunters after all, perhaps they need something to keep up with the "traitors" of their bloodline.

Perhaps a deal which resulted in those matching wings.

Now, how could they find out their relation with the Fentons? While there could be the adoption route, what if instead it was right after Danny's accident.

He died screaming, visibly got electrocuted, his wings are torched, there's no way they're not taking him to the hospital. Which means things like blood tests, maybe even a donated organ or two because someone doesn't get blasted with that much electricity without consequences.

Which, it's the batfamily, they definitely have alarms set up for any sort of family pings for both themselves and their rogues. Just in case.

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

Also had no idea where to put it but if this includes demons and ghosts feeding on fear, or emotions in general, then Scarecrow could be instinctively attempting to feed and grow his wings. Also he deserves raven or rook wings. Maybe a jay's if you wanna go for color.

Oh my gosh, even if Alfred and Gotham don't get together, they definitely have tea together and spar. They're definitely co-parenting either platonically or romantically, it doesn't matter this is their specialist lil boy. Who then brings even more of the specialist lil ones ever!

God I love the implications of Clockwork and Pariah creating a cloak of wings for a ghostling for them to use as their feathers slowly grow back. Love what that implies for the culture of the ghost zone. Love the idea of it maybe having an influence on Danny's wings in ghost form since a ghost's appearance is influenced by their image about themself.

#ask answered #batman au #batman #dc #dcu #dcxdp #dpxdc #cryptid batman #cryptid batfam #normally I don't really like demon aus #but this is honestly really interesting in implications #I am honestly here for this and am very interested #Would the batfam also get wings (that is feathered ones) #What is Constantine's reaction to Batman #Does it ping similar to a half-demon or something else #Does he just think it's a Gotham thing since like 3+ portals to hell have been opened there #I honestly don't think Alfred would let Jason die #Like demon blood is actually kinda OP in the DC world #We've seen Constantine stabbed through the center (like practically split in half hotdog style) and heal pretty freakin easy #Okay but wings #like wing ideas #Jack has condor wings (very big & also death implications) #Danny deserves lil dove wings as bby before they're scorched #They deserve to be similar to galaxy when grown back #White flecks from Clockwork & the darker bits from Pariah with hints of his own colors swirling together #Jazz has either a finch's wings or cockatoos #OH #Bruce has nicobar pigeon wings #Closest living relative of the dodo #And it is Gorgeous

[bravo4iscool]

Hey hey, I'd like to give an idea!!

I know that a lot of people actually focus on ghost x reader stuff, AND THAT'S OK, but I've been thinking about some content of reader actually being Simon's kid or something. Because I only find content similar to it in very weird accounts that somehow turn those into incest fanfics, and it gives me the ick.

I'll understand if you just ignore this or not feel like writing it, I just felt like I wanted to bring this idea up because, well, why not.

I LOVE THIS!!! thank you so much for trusting me with this! i’ll try my best hahaha.

i love simon’s!kid fanfics and all those incest fics really are the bane of my existence😭. how tf do you come up with stuff like that lmao?

anyways, since you weren’t specific with the type of fic you want i’m gonna turn this into a (toxic!)singledad!simon!AU🫣

for this i’m taking inspiration from my favourite series ‘seal team’ and its main character the navy seal master chief jason hayes.

he (jason) has two children (one daughter and one son) and is anything but a perfect father. he tried to be better after his ex wive’s death but, well…

but i don’t wanna talk too much, let’s go🫣

readers nickname is nugget btw and they have a younger brother named jacob :)

(i hope you like this, i tried my best😭)

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

You sigh and shrug off your jacket. You’re drenched in water, a little puddle forming where you stand. You shiver and pull off your shoes with a grunt, hoping that you didn’t alert your dad.

“Hey Nugget.” You grimace when you hear your dad’s voice. You didn’t want him to notice you.

“Hi dad,” you quickly greet him, trying to squish past him but he grabs your arm, holding you back. You take a deep breath before you look at him. The sooner this was over the better.

“Why are your clothes wet?” he wants to know, looking you up and down, frowning at you.

“It’s raining outside,” you drily remark, clearing your throat when he hits you with a sharp gaze. You sigh, “You were meant to pick me up but you didn’t show up, okay? All my friends were gone and I needed to walk home.”

His grip around your arm weakens and he frowns at you again. “What do you mean, I was supposed to pick you up?”

“The way I said it. You told me you’d pick me up but you didn’t show.” You shrug. “It’s nothing new, no? Now, can I please go to my room? I’d like to change.” You wait for his answer but you get none. He only lets go of your arm, watching after you when you leave.

You peek into your brothers room before you walk into your bathroom and check after him. “Hey Josy. Have you eaten already?” you want to know, leaning against his doorframe.

He looks up from his game, smiling and shaking his head. “Nah. He came home like two hours ago. He hasn’t talked to me.” 

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the door frame. “Okay. I’ll quickly shower and then I’ll see what I can make. You good with that?”

“Jup,” your little brother answers, already too distracted by his video game again. You shake your head with a smile, heading towards your bathroom.

-

“You want something to eat?” you ask Simon when you start to rummage around in the kitchen. “Josy said he didn’t have anything so I thought about making some,” you tell him, barely waiting for your dad’s response.

But when you really don’t get one you turn around and and walk a couple steps into the living room. There you see him, peacefully sleeping on the couch, one arms dangling off the side and his mouth slightly agape.

You smile to yourself and carefully walk towards him to drape a blanket over him. You look at him for a second before you lift his head to put a pillow under it. Then you leave as quietly as you arrived.

When you call your brother for dinner you motion him to be quiet as he enters. “Dad’s asleep, I don’t want to wake him up,” you explain, setting Jacob’s plate down in front of him.

“Thanks,” he smiles, immediately digging into the food. “Y’know, you should become a chef with your cooking skills,” he smacks after some moments, nodding along to his statement.

You chuckle and shake your head. “You know that there’s no culinary school around here… Besides I can’t leave you or dad alone.”

Jacob only rolls his eyes at that, stuffing another fork of food into his mouth. “Sometimes I think he doesn’t even care about us.”

You immediately frown at your brother, holding yourself back from hardly scolding him. “Josy, don’t say that! Of course he cares about us! He’s just…” you try to find the right words to discribe your dad but, well… there was only one that came to mind. You sigh, “He’s just a bit difficult. You know his job…” You try to find excuses for his behaviour, knowing that it actually wasn’t but you didn’t want to hit your brother with the stone cold reality.

“He tries his best,” is the way you end the topic not knowing that Simon listened from the living room, his eyes filling with tears. Was he really that bad? Was he really failing that hard? Was he really so…unavailable to his children?

-

The next day you wake up your dad’s gone. No note, no information; he’s just gone. At first you didn’t think anything of it, he surely would be home in the evening but when he didn’t show you start to get worried.

You don’t tell Joseph about it, you keep to yourself and dial the Captains phone number. He surely could tell you where your dad was.

“Price,” he answers the phone and you let out a deep breath.

“Hi John! Is my dad with you?” you immediately ask, pacing up and down in your kitchen. “He hasn’t been home and doesn’t answer my texts or calls. I’m worried about him…” you tell the Captain, your eyes nervously darting around.

John listens to you and then tell you, “He’s not with me. We’re not due for deployment until almost two months,” he further informs you and your heart sinks.

“What do you mean, he’s not with you? Do you know where he is?” Your voice wavers and you feel your eyes starting to burn.

“I’m sorry Nugget but… I don’t know where he is…” You can hear him walking around, then he talks again. “I’ll keep my eyes out for him, okay? I’ll send someone over to you as soon as I’m finished here.”

“Oh, no no no, it’s fine. I- we don’t need someone, it’s alright,” you immediately deny, not wanting anyone else to know your dad was gone. “I’m gonna call Johnny, maybe he knows where he is. You don’t need to send someone,” you explain, chewing your nails—a habit you actually wanted to get rid of.

You can practically feel the hesitance of the Captain but after a couple seconds he agrees. “Okay. But I’ll look after you as soon as I can. I don’t want you and Joseph to be alone,” is his compromise and you can’t help but agree.

“I’ll talk to you again later, okay?” Price sighs. “Some recruit did shit and I need to fix it now.”

“Okay, yes.” You end the call, your hand wiping over your face in a state of panic. You didn’t know where your dad was, if he was okay or if he’d come back. You didn’t know how to look after yourself and Joseph, you probably needed to quit school to keep track of all the bills and-

“Where’s dad?” Joseph walks into the kitchen, headphones around his neck, munching on chips or something like that.

“He’s…at work,” you quickly lie, trying to hide you glassy eyes. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.” Jacob’s happy with that answer and opens the fridge.

“We gonna take the bus to school?” he wants to know, glancing at you.

“You’ll go alone today,” you tell him, handing him his lunch box. “I have an important appointment.”

“If you say so,” he shrugs, grabbing his backpack and leaves before you can properly say goodbye. As soon as you’re sure he left you grab your phone again and dial Johnny’s phone number.

As expected he also doesn’t know where your dad was but promises to to keep an eye out for him. Fucking hell, why did he just leave? Did someone shit in his brain or what? He’s never pulled something like that before…

-

Simon returns almost four months later. He didn’t know why he left. He didn’t know anything but one thing he did know was that he probably lost his children for good now…

His hands almost shake when he opens the door and he’s prepared for screaming and crying and breakdowns but when you see him your eyes widen and the mug in your hand falls to the ground.

“Dad,” you whisper and before he can even process everything you’re crashing into his arms, crying your eyes out.

“I’m sorry Nugget, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, holding you close and never wanting to let you go again.

And you’re so close to forgiving him already; almost forgetting how you needed to quit school and take a job in the sketchy diner down the road. Almost forgetting how you cried yourself to sleep every night, trying to hide the disappearance of your dad from Joseph.

Simon feels how his hands start to shake and his eyes start to burn while he’s holding you; you’re crying in his arms and he’s so close to breaking down but then Joseph walks in.

“What do you want here?” His voice is cold, his gaze hard. He doesn’t flinch when your dad let’s go of you and straightens his back to his full height.

Your dad says nothing, only looks at his son, waiting for him to continue talking. “You left,” Joseph grits out, purposefully walking towards Simon. “You left and you didn’t even have the balls to tell us why!”

He was now screaming, his face red and his voice shaking. “How dare you come back now! How dare you!”

“Josy-“ you try to calm him down but he slaps your hand away, smacking his finger into his father’s chest.

“You think it’s okay to just leave? Nugget quit school to keep us above water while you were gone!” Joseph was now throwing pathetic punches at Simon’s chest, tears brimming him his eyes. “We needed you and you just decided to be a weak fuck and quit!”

Tears were running down your little brothers cheeks as he was hitting your dad chest and you wanted to pull him into your arms arms and comfort him but you yourself were shaking, your vision blurry from already shed tears.

“I’m sorry Josy,” Simon whispered, ignoring the punches his son was throwing at him, only pulling him into his arms and holding him close. “I don’t-“ his voice breaks. “I don’t know why I left. I’m sorry…”

Joseph shakes and cries and your heart breaks again. Carefully you walk towards them both, placing your arms around your brother. “We’ll be fine Josy,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his head. “We’ll be fine…”

When you were alone with your dad, once Joseph went to sleep you place a cup of tea in front of him and sit down opposite of him.

“You’ve got a lot to fix,” you tell him, your expression neutral, besides your shaking hands beneath the table. “You just…disappeared and that left its scars. Don’t think that they’ll be healed just because you came home again.”

He listens to you, nodding along and staring at his tea. “I know. And i’m keen on fixing it.” He looks up and you see his red eyes. “I’m sorry I led Nugget. I’ll make it up, okay? I’ll do my best.”

“I know,” you try to believe him but in the back of your head you’re reminded of all the times he didn’t keep his promises…

pt.2 lol?

#writing #ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #story writing #call of duty #simon riley #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #dad!simon ghost riley #kid!reader #simon riley brainrot lol #father-child-relationship #simon’s a kinda shitty dad #but he tried his best #i promise

[atlasscrumpit]

🔞Priest Miguel au🔞

(Priest au means Miguel is a Priest duh. Also means that if you don't want to read about things that may offend your religion that do not read on! If you read on and still get offended that is your problem and you're dumb as hell. It's like someone warning you not to walk into wet concrete yet you walk in it and blame the guy who laid the concrete)

🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞

Miguel watched everyone leave, exhausted from his day as he took a sip of water to clear his throat.

When he turned back around he saw someone still sitting.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" He asked as he began to walk towards them.

From the moment he saw your eyes he knew exactly what you were.

He took a step back and gripped the cross around his neck.

"Leave now." He growled as you looked at him and tilted your head.

"I'm not causing any harm." You said innocently as he looked at you with such hatred and disgust.

You hated the fact that he despised you only based on the fact that you were a demon.

"You look at me with such disgust, yet you have no idea who I am." You said, staring into his eyes.

"You are a demon, a disgusting creature sent here to tempt me." He said as you looked away and chuckled a little.

"It's sweet that you think you're important enough for me to tempt. I'm not here to cause any harm, just here to see what all the fuss about religion is." You muttered as he continued to keep his distance.

"You don't fool me, demon. I have spent my life learning about heaven and hell." He said making you chuckle again.

"Yet you know nothing about heaven or hell. But, I should be honest with you. I don't work for hell, not anymore at least. I'm here on earth to see why humans like it so much... I find it interesting that everything that you consider a sin is everything that makes a human...human. You preach a God that wants to make his people suffer, a God that would torture you if you didn't follow. Do you know who else does that? My master in hell, your God isn't that different from him." You say slowly circling the priest like a shark.

"Do not compare God to a demon! He protects, he loves and he keeps us safe." He said as you smiled and continued to look at him.

"Don't think of yourself as so high and mighty. You are filled with sins, all of them and I know how badly you want to let go." You whispered slowly approaching him.

"Don't you want to see what it means to be human? And not just a worthless follower? Don't you want to feel?" You whispered as Miguel began to feel an odd sensation in his body.

"Stop this now demon, before I destroy you!" He shouted before he backed away and braced himself against the podium.

"All I'm doing is letting your desires free. Heaven and hell is a plague! The sooner you see that the better." You said before the sensation stopped in Miguel.

"Why are you doing this? Why me!" He shouted as you stepped back a little and took a breath.

"I don't know..." You whispered as he looked at you in shock.

"You don't know why you're here?" He asked as you chuckled a little and looked away from him.

"I've been running from my destiny for centuries... I felt like my time was running out when I started being plagued with visions...of you. I tracked you down and I found you here...and now I don't even know." You muttered as the priest looked at you in confusion.

He couldn't believe how human you were, he didn't expect a demon to act like this.

"You ran from you duties?" He asked, you noticed he was starting to relax a little more.

"My purpose was to destroy this world... To end all life. But, that's not who I want to be." You admitted while the priest listened in disbelief.

"But it's your duty, you cannot turn your back on your purpose." He said as you slowly approached him.

"I know why you're angry... Because you've had thoughts of leaving your duties behind to live a life of sin. Isn't that right, father?" You whispered before you stood in front of him and looked into his eyes.

"That's the difference between you have I, I am not weak like you to give in to my sins!" He shouted as you sighed a little.

"Is this really a sin? When it feels so good, father?" You whispered before pressing your palm to his crotch that was half hard.

"Enough." He whispered breathlessly and you continued to palm him through his clothes.

"I need you and you need me. We were meant to help each other break free from those who are controlling us. Let go, father." You whispered before he gripped your wrist roughly to stop you.

"On your knees." He growled as you smirked a little and kneeled before him.

You looked up and could see the sins brewing in his soul.

"You've lived your life as someone's slave for too long." You whispered as he reached forward and held your face in his hand.

"Tell me your name, little demon." He said, looking down at you.

"My name in Hell isn't one that can be pronounced by humans... So, call me Y/N." You replied as he nodded a little.

"You'll address me as Father, little one. I am your superior here, I am above you in every sense of the word... But, you could prove very useful to me." He whispered as you looked into his sinful eyes.

"I can see how much you want to be worshipped, father. Let go of everything you've learnt and let me worship you." You whispered before he slowly went to his knees and looked into your eyes.

You leant forward and kissed him softly as he gripped your hair.

You finally broke the kiss and he looked at your face.

"Was this your plan all along, little demon? To tempt me?" He asked caressing your face gently as you watched his eyes.

"It wasn't my intention, father. But... I can tell how much you want freedom from this, freedom to love, live and...fuck." You whispered as his thumb gently ran over your bottom lip.

"You want me to free you...and you want to free me. I can't give up my life as easy as you." He replied as you leant in and kissed him again.

"It is easy, father. Just let go, let me show you what you're missing." You whispered, leaning in yo kiss his neck before you started to palm at his crotch again.

"Naughty demon..." He whispered, moaning a little before he kissed you again.

"Show me what I'm missing, little demon."

#Miguel #Miguel o'hara #Miguel x reader #Miguel o'hara x reader #Priest au #Demon reader

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

I'm taking you out (Lucifer)

MC hadn't noticed the empty seat at the table until they got up from dinner. Lucifer's plate sits untouched at the head of the table, the brothers carry on around it, ignoring the eldest's absence.

MC can't ignore the sharp tug at their chest. Diavolo was planning some kind of event, meaning Lucifer has been bending over backwards to make the prince's vision a reality, as usual.

MC's well aware that Lucifer always works long hours and occasionally skips lunch, but he so rarely skips dinner.

They haven't seen him at all that day, barely seen him at all the day before, making their decision a rather easy one to make.

"MC, where are you going?" Satan wondered as the human walked around the table, a loaded plate in their hand.

"Taking Lucifer his dinner"

"I'm not sure that's a g-and they're gone."

Shifting nervously in his seat, Levi glares at the door MC just exited. ''Shouldn't we stop them? Lucifer hates being interrupted.''

"It's MC, they make up for the lack of magic with otherworldly gumption." Satan declared, shrugging off the issue to carry on his dinner. "Besides, Lucifer won't hurt them."

"He'd better not."

MC tapped gently at Lucifer's bedroom door, hoping he'd at least retreated home from RAD.

"Not now."

"Unless you're hiding a full kitchen in there, you haven't eaten properly today, Lucifer." MC replied, unphased by his scathing tone. "I brought dinner."

"I don't have time for this, MC!"

"The sooner you open the door the sooner I leave you alone."

They heard him heave a sigh, can practically see the furrow between his brows through the door before it swings open, leaving them face to face with the glowering fallen angel.

MC's grown a thick skin to that glare by now, and smile up at him while holding out the plate.

"You are the most stubborn creature in any realm, living or dead."

"Why thank you, now eat."

Lucifer huffed and ignored their words as he spun on his heel, headed back to his desk. "I don't have time for this, MC. There are papers due tomorrow morning."

MC follows him in, kicking the door shut behind them and turning the key in the lock. "Can I help?"

"No."

"So, you won't let me help and you won't take the time to take care of yourself?"

"I'm no feeble human. A day's missed meals won't reduce my cognitive abilities."

MC took a long, appraising look at him, at the dark circles sagging under his eyes and the slouch to his usually proud shoulders.

"Only one day? Or six?"

Lucifer avoids their gaze as he drops back into his chair, knowing he's been caught. "Leave, MC."

"No. You'll eat, or I'll make you."

When he looked up, it was into the eyes of the human who mastered the 7 Lords of Hell, His Master.

No matter how much he dressed it up, how much MC let him have his way for his pride's sake, Lucifer surrendered himself to them with that pact. Sometimes, and only sometimes, MC has to remind him.

Lucifer relented and made room for the plate on his desk.

While he ate, MC went about putting on some music and lighting the fire, nipping out of the room to bring him some chamomile tea.

His heart stung, but his heart melted as MC nestled into his bed in their comfy clothes, making themselves at home on the massive mattress.

"And just what do you think you're doing?"

"Getting ready for bed. I'm taking you out tomorrow, by the way." MC grinned, sliding their DDD onto his nightstand. "I've already cleared it with Dia."

"That nickname isn't appropriate, and I don-"

As if on cue, his own DDD lit up with a message from the prince himself. Lucifer sighed, hearing MC's chuckle as he unlocked the device.

Enjoy your outing tomorrow, I can't think of anyone who deserves it more! I'll see you for our morning meeting the day after tomorrow. Good night, Lucifer.

"You, are a menace."

MC giggled innocently, pulling the covers over themselves. "You love me."

Lucifer pushes away from his desk, kicking off his shoes and discarding his tie as he rips the covers away from them, pressing himself over their defenceless body, relishing the way MC melted beneath with without resistence.

Eyes of liquid wonder gaze up at him adoringly as they slide their arms around his neck.

"You'd do well do remember who you belong too, little human." He growled, breath sending shivers down MC's spine as it tickled their ear, so close, and yet too far away. "Whose are you?"

"Yours." No hesitation, not a quiver of fear or doubt as their eyes beg him to come closer and finally lay his lips over theirs.

Lucifer doesn't care that MC's technically won, gotten him away from his work for the next 24 hours. He knows that he's just as much theirs as they are his, and loves it as he finally lets himself sink into their kiss, body aching to consume them whole until no astral form could tell where one ended and the other began.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #teeth rotting fluff #implied smut #spicy fluff

[copperbadge]

ADHD anon here (by the way, i'm not that young, i'm just not in a position to leave). thank you very much for your very clear, very thought out response. i will try to follow your advice, although i think, for her sake, i'll still insist on her reading up on the subject. maybe she'll do it eventually? i think it would help her if she understood more about it than just "ADHD=bad" and "nothing can be done about my problems", which seems to be her idea.

i would just like to mention that she's never, like, forgotten meals or to cook for us or anything. outwardly she's always -seemed- very organised and put together (well. screaming at the drop of a hat aside), which is why it took until now, when it got worse, for her to be diagnosed, i think.

again, thank you very much. you gave me a lot to think about, and a useful-looking resource, too.

I mean, I certainly wish you luck of trying -- for one, I genuinely hope your mother is able to see that she's harming you and put a stop to it. If I were in your place and wanted to still try and effect change, I will say I would put emphasis on finding a doctor willing to try medication and giving it a shot (look for psychiatrists who specialize in medication management and adult ADHD). It really has been a life changer for me and other late-life diagnosis people I've spoken to.

I'm glad to hear your physical needs are met; one of the things I was concerned about was that impulsivity and lack of emotional regulation can make people do very risky things with their own lives and those around them as well. It's still very wrong of her to treat you as she does, but I don't discount the value of bare-minimum physical safety.

I hope you do take to heart that this isn't your fault and that even if you can't leave, there are buffers you can put into place. (Sorry about the assumption of youth -- I did wonder if I was going a little hard on that in the response.) I sympathize with not being able to leave.

In any case, I hope the diagnosis leads to only good things for both you and her! And clearly the readership here is pulling for you, so you have people wishing for a strong outcome.

Normally I might wait or queue the response but this is context people may wish to have if commenting on the earlier post, so I thought it best to get it out there sooner rather than later.

#toxic family #sam has adhd

[yourlocaltreesimp]

I honestly find your content AMAZING I mean any time I see you've updated I immediately look to see what it is that you have blessed us with. Tbh you've inspired me to go back into writing and break through my writers block so I've been thinking about several different scenarios and wanted to share even if it ain't the best.

.•♫•♬• 𝒀𝒂𝒏!𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 •♬•♫•.

Imagine the Yan!Chain with a reader that always and I mean ALWAYS wears a medical mask, but nevertheless is sweet and kind to everyone (the masks kinda like the cloth ones that are pure black with the white mouth/ accesory designs on them). They never take it off even to eat or bathe unless they feel comfortable, safe, and trust the people their around which has yet to happen. The chain oh so desperately want to know what their beloved looks like beneath the mask, thinking of the way their cheeks and expressions look like and the way their lips would feel against them.

Masked!Reader that doesn't usually take off their jacket/hoodie for similar reasons and they seem to have a small figure They must be protected, the chain can't risk loosing such a small precious being... but reader knows personally that they aren't as weak as most people see them. The may be small (about 4'10" - 5'3"), but they've lived a wild and dangerous life back in their world and know how to fight like a professional.

Masked!Reader who proves this when all of them are suddenly ambushed and finally gets the chance to prove they can take care of themselves, only to go completely feral the moment one of the boys get hurt...

.•♫•♬• 𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕 •♬•♫•.

You had been traveling with the Chain for quite some time now and had formed a bond with each and every one of them, treating them with the kindness they had wished and craved for after so long. They saw you as a small, sweet angel, their one and only love that HAD to be protected no matter what.

They became incredibly protective when anything they deemed a threat came into view, it was cute and sweet at first but after a while it kinda got a tad bit irritating. You knew that you weren't as weak as they saw you and you wanted to prove that once and for all when the time came. Which was much sooner than you thought.

All of you were traveling through one of the many woods that scattered the land, you being in the center of the group and calmly chatting with the others until a group of monsters attacked out of nowhere. Everyone immediately pulled out their weapons, including you, as they all began to defend from the attacks of the beasts. Some of the boys stayed close to you, defending you from the monsters, which is when you finally saw the opportunity and decided to prove yourself.

You managed to quickly rush past them towards one of the monsters, despite the contradicting shouts from the oothers as you charged into battle. With one swift slice, your short sword sliced through the one of the beast and ended it with ease. All of them watched on in awe before some of them went back to fighting, a few of them stuck in a trance as they watched your elegant and powerful fighting stance.

Unfortunately, due to being a bit distracted by your grace, one of the boys ended up taking a hit from an enemy. You saw the hit and the way the monster seemed to mock the fallen Link and all you could see in that moment was red. A burning rage inside of you suddenly boiled up and spilled over as you let out an almost animalistic growl that could even cause the greatest of heroes to tremble in fear, the look in your eyes like one of an apex predator.

You subconsciously dropped your weapon and charged at the monster as it looked up at you...

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

I might continue this if you'd like, but I really love your writings and hope to see more! Make sure to stay hydrated, rested, and eat at least three meals a day! Hope you have a great day/night!

- 𐂂 anon (if that's okay with you)

I- 𐂂 anon this is amazing! Thank you so much and welcome to the crew. I love your writing style sm- ahehejejenwns snsnsnskkakdkwkw

I’m glad i was able to spark some inspiration, and i’ll refill my glass of water just for you <3

#firreplies #𐂂 anon #linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #yandere linked universe #link x you #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #x reader #yandere link x reader #oh my goddesses #marry me #like rn #rings don’t even matter #fir’s footnotes (addons) #fir has a collection of three braincells