#but it’s also making me so desensitised to all those things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

and-then-there-were-n0ne · 3 months

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I read this week that Instagram is pushing “overtly sexual adult videos” to young users. For a Wall Street Journal investigation, journalists created accounts that could belong to children, following young gymnasts, cheerleaders and influencers. The test accounts were soon served sexual and disturbing content on Instagram Reels, alongside ads for dating apps, livestream platforms with “adult nudity” and AI chatbots “built for cybersex”. Some were next to ads for kids’ brands like Disney.

This is something I’ve been trying to get across to parents about social media. The problem is not just porn sites. They are of course a massive concern. Kids as young as nine are addicted. The average age to discover porn is now 13, for boys and girls. And many in my generation are now realising just how much being raised on porn affected them, believing it “destroyed their brain” and distorted their view of sex.

But the problem is bigger than that. Porn is everywhere now. TikTok is serving up sex videos to minors and promoting sites like OnlyFans. The gaming platform Twitch is exposing kids to explicit live-streams. Ads for “AI sex workers” are all over Instagram, some featuring kids’ TV characters like SpongeBob and the Cookie Monster. And there’s also this sort of “soft-porn” now that pervades everything. Pretty much every category of content that kids could stumble across, from beauty trends to TikTok dances to fitness pages, is now pornified or sexualised in some way for clicks.

I think this does a lot of damage to Gen Z. I think it desensitises us to sex. I think it can ruin relationships. But beyond that, I also believe a major problem with everything being pornified is the pressure it puts on young girls to pornify themselves. To fit the sex doll beauty standard; to seek validation through self-sexualisation, and potentially monetise all this like the influencers they’re inundated with.

Which, of course, puts girls at risk of predators. Predators who are all over TikTok, Instagram and Snapchat. Predators whose algorithms helpfully deliver them more content of minors and steer them towards kids’ profiles. Predators who are taking TikToks of underage girls and putting them on platforms like Pornhub.

And this is even more terrifying because adolescent girls are especially vulnerable today. They are vulnerable anyway at that age—but today they have far less life experience than previous generations of girls did. They are extremely insecure and anxious, and much less resilient. Combine this with the fact that they are now more easily exposed to predatory men than ever before in history, and served to strangers by algorithms. And another thing: girls are also able to look way older now. They have AI editing apps to sexualise themselves. TikTok filters to pornify their bodies. And access to every kind of make-up and hair and fashion tutorial you can think of to look sexier and more mature. I don’t think enough parents realise how dangerous this situation is.

Which is why I find it so frustrating to see some progressives downplay the dangers of all this. Those that dismiss anyone concerned about the pornification of everything as a stuffy conservative. And somehow can’t see how the continual loosening of sexual norms might actually empower predatory men, and put pressure on vulnerable girls? That seems delusional to me.

Let’s just say I have little patience for those on the left who loudly celebrate women sexualising themselves online, selling it as fun, feminist and risk-free, but are then horrified to hear about 12 year-olds doing the same thing. C’mon. No wonder they want to.

But I also find it frustrating to see some on the right approach this with what seems like a complete lack of compassion. I don’t think it helps to relentlessly ridicule and blame young women for sexualising themselves online. I don’t think it’s fair either. We can’t give girls Instagram at 12 and then be surprised when as young women they base their self-worth on the approval of strangers. We can’t inundate kids with sexual content all the time and be shocked when they don’t see sex as sacred, or think sex work is just work! We can’t give them platforms as pre-teens where they are rewarded for sexualising themselves and presenting themselves like products and then shame them for starting an OnlyFans. We can’t expose them to online worlds where everything is sexualised and then be confused why some of Gen Z see their sexuality as their entire identity.

And again, on top of these platforms, girls are growing up in a culture that celebrates all of this. They are being raised to believe that they must be liberated from every restraint around sex and relationships to be free and happy, and many have never heard any different. Celebrities encourage them to be a slut, get naked, make/watch porn and make money! Mainstream magazines teach them how to up their nude selfie game! Influencers tell millions of young followers to start an OnlyFans, and pretend it’s about empowering young girls to do whatever they want with their bodies! I can’t say this enough: their world is one where the commodification and sexualisation the self is so normalised. It’s heartbreaking. And cruel that anyone celebrates it.

So sure, young women make their own choices. But when we have children sexualising themselves online, when girls as young as 13 are using fake IDs to post explicit content on OnlyFans, when a third of those selling nudes on Twitter are under the age of 18, I think it’s safe to say we are failing them from an early age.

I guess what I’m trying to get across is this: it’s tough for girls right now. It’s tough to be twelve and anxious and feel unattractive and this is how everyone else is getting attention. It’s tough to constantly compare yourself to the hyper-sexualised influencers that the boys you’re interested in are liking and following and thinking you have to compete. It’s tough to feel like the choice is sexualise yourself or nobody will notice you. The sad reality is we live in a superficial, pornified culture that rewards this stuff, and in many ways punishes you if you’re modest and sensitive and reserved, and a lot of girls are just trying to keep up with it.

We need serious cultural change. We need to wake up to how insane this all is, how utterly mental it is that we allow young girls anywhere near social media, and how we’ve let the liberalising of sexual mores escalate to the point where pre-teens are posing like porn stars and are lied to that it’s liberation. And where we need to start is with an absolute refusal from parents to let their kids on these platforms.

So please. If the relentless social comparison and obliteration of their attention span and confusion about their identity wasn’t enough, this has to be. Don’t let your daughters on social media.

#social media #freya #freya india

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withoutyouimsaskia · 2 months

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Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 2)

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dream manipulation. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Plot related cigarette use. Dubious consent.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: So I know I initially billed this as a two shot but the story has run away with me in the most lovely way. Part 3 will be coming soon. Thank you for all your kind responses to part 1, it honestly means so much to me. Hope you enjoy this one too. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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The veil of sleep comes down upon your weary body with a feather-light touch, trying to coax your mind back into the world of dreams.

Dreamscapes have been a whole new experience for you in the past month of your life. Before, you would wake with no recollection of what had played out. Not even the slightest inkling. Now, you remember everything.

They are staggering; bursting with details and ideas beyond your most outlandish daytime imaginings. The emotions that are conjured by them, both when asleep and also awake are just as bold.

And even though it's been 23 nights since it started you are still finding them predominantly jarring and disorientating. You are baffled by how other people cope with the sheer vividness. The unpredictability. Maybe they have become desensitised. You can only hope that the same will happen for you in time.

One thing you tell yourself with each sunrise:

Thank goodness they weren't nightmares.

At least, you don't think they are. There's no resemblance between yours and what you have heard others describe over the years, nor to those outlined in a dream decoding book you had checked out of the library last week. There's no obvious threat or fear. No re-living of traumatic events. Just weird subtext.

The first dream found you standing barefoot on a beach. A mirage distorted the particulars of the scene making it impossible to see further than half a meter in front of you. The temperature of the sand under your soles was verging on painful and as such, it forced you to walk into the unknown before you.

A groaning wind started to brew and lifted the sand into sparkling flurries. You shielded your eyes from the abrasive particles.

The sun was at its apex when you heard the ear splitting bangs. Unmistakably gun shots; you didn't last much longer in the dream and woke with a start.

For the next week, your dreams had been like a series of video clips edited into a supercut.

Raven wings. Black cats. Hellfire. Ruby red glow. Sprawling library shelves. Landscapes hewn by earthquake fissures. Hotel corridors. A handsome, blond haired man wearing sunglasses, holding a blood covered knife.

If you didn't know any better, you would begin to suspect that your new box of tea bags had been laced with a psychedelic. Alas, no. Your hypothesis was unequivocally disproved when you friends had been completely unaffected after stopping by for a Sunday afternoon catch up.

This quick fire of snapshots eventually stopped, transforming into lucid long form dreams. You often think back to the first one where it happened.

Standing in the the empty room, and the appearance of the figure dressed in black. The colour that had flashed in their midnight eyes had the quality of liquid silver. Sometimes you wonder if you see the same image in other dreams, standing in amongst a crowd.

From that point on, regardless of what dream you are in, you cannot shake the intuitive prickle down your spine that tells you someone is watching you.

You reason that it is nothing to be concerned about. Humans dream, and you cannot deny that some of them - swimming in a sea of clouds, re-visiting childhood haunts, trying out superpowers - have been quite fun.

You roll over on to your left side and close your eyes.

You dream.

The room you see is expansive in breadth and depth. Impressive windows bring brilliant light into the space which bounces off the ivory stone of the floors and walls. There are statues positioned at equidistant intervals, implying that the chamber is a gallery of sorts.

One effigy, fashioned from bronze, and rich in colour draws your attention. The lines and curves of its form intrigue you, despite not knowing the creature it was portraying.

You are about to move on when the feeling of being watched sparks through your skeleton.

Everything changes.

Clarity gives way to haze. Sun is swapped for moon.

You see a man across the room. He stands with a perfect posture. Graceful, powerful. His elbows are bent, fingers interlaced, palms facing upwards. Sheer black fabric floats around his frame. It moves languidly, giving glimpses of his bare body beneath.

The man's face is imperceptible. The distance between you too great but somehow you know you are the focus of his attention.

His robes fall to the floor with a gossamer sigh. The pale, unmarked skin of his slight form glows beautifully in the moonlight. You look down in embarrassment as arousal flushes through you, and you see that you are suddenly as naked as he is.

You gasp, and snap your gaze back up.

The sight you see is rather unexpected. The man is intimately touching himself.

You feel compelled to mirror him. You immediately reach between your legs. The man groans as you make contact.

All it takes is a little bit of attention on your clit before you are ready to slide two fingers into your core. The noise you make at the feeling of the stretch is salacious. The man echoes you with a sound that is just as dirty.

It spurs you on and you burrow deeper.

You curl your fingers until your legs are weak and quivering. You long to sink to your knees so you can finish in a more comfortable position yet you can't. An invisible force is preventing you.

It keeps you on display.

Just like the statues to your left.

You wonder if it is for the man's benefit.

You try to focus on him but it is impossible to do so through the trembling glaze over your eyes. All you are able to sense from him now is the sound of the rhythmic pump of his palm around his cock and his panting breaths.

Desperate whines escape your lips. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm but you can't seem to lose your balance and fall into the abyss. The unsteadiness in your legs is too much of a distraction. You rub at your clit again in the hope that it will bring the satisfaction you need.

It does nothing.

You are so frustrated by your body's disobedience that it is almost painful.

"Please. Please. Please," you mutter under your breath.

A voice suddenly speaks next to you ear. A velvet voice with the timbre of a thunder rumble. It pours like a soothing syrup into your brain and commands you to do exactly as it bids.

"Let go."

You climax intensely, crying out in relief, squirting all over your fingers and onto your hand as you legs finally give way.

The fall jolts you back into consciousness and you wake with a barely contained scream of pleasure in your throat and adrenaline lighting up your nervous system.

Daylight is peeking through a little gap in the curtains. You take a deep, grounding breath.

That was obscene.

The context, the actions, the sounds. That sultry voice at the end. From the throbbing in your vulva and the twitching of your legs it seems like you didn't just finish in the dream.

There is really no point in looking it up in the dream decoding book.

You were clearly horny on a subconscious level. Or craving attention, hence the exhibitionist behaviour. The latter is not usually in your nature to seek out but if it is the reason, you might not have to wait long before the desire is fulfilled. There is a work event happening this evening that may require you to accept an award and address the crowd.

You love this time of year where community projects get recognition; a nomination alone is a sure-fire way of garnering publicity which in turn helps the charity's outreach.

But first, a normal day at the office. You throw back the covers and go straight to the bathroom to rinse off the evidence of your wet dream.

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Your right hand connects with the metal push plate of the function space's front door. The heels of your boots click and clack as you cross the threshold, moving from floor board to paving slab.

It's fortuitous that you brought a long, thick coat with you this evening for the wind is wintery and unforgiving. You stay close to the wall of the building to try and shelter from it as much as possible.

The pavements are slick with recent precipitation, streetlamps bouncing off of the water with caustic white light.

Then you see him; a figure cut from shadow.

He's breathing in such a laboured way that you wonder if he is sick.

Your phone is still inside the venue, currently being guarded by a colleague along with your bag but it wouldn't take long to retrieve it and call for medical assistance.

"You okay?" Concern colours the simple question.

His reply comes quickly and assertively, "I am well, thank you."

You nod, not entirely convinced for the stranger's response was as stiff as his posture, and reach inside the pocket of your coat for the box of cigarettes and lighter stashed within.

You settle one of the sticks between your lips and use your thumb to bring forth a flame. The crackle of smouldering paper and tobacco perforates the damp air and you take a needy drag. The nicotine taints and tantalises in equal measure, filling you with guilt and relief. You've been trying to give up but the little voice inside your head had won this evening. You close your eyes and focus on the pleasure it brings before flicking some ash into the tray mounted to the wall.

Your attention now back on your surroundings, the stranger steps into the scope of the streetlight. The angles of his cheekbones, jaw and nose are accentuated to an incredible extent in the gleam. His dark hair is being buffeted about the wind, locks of it very close to falling in the blue eyes that are unwaveringly trained on you. He begins to talk again, showcasing his deep baritone.

"I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you just now. It is not how I envisaged our first interaction transpiring. I hope that you can forgive me for my deception."

You laugh nervously and take another quick drag. "It makes no difference if you're honest with me or not. I don't know you."

"You are correct. You don't know me. Not yet -"

"Oh," you cut in quickly. "I'm not looking for a hook up."

While you cannot deny that he is arrestingly beautiful, you are technically working and have never been one for one-night stands.

"You mistake my meaning. I have been searching for you for so long. I oftentimes doubted your existence however I was wrong and I find myself humbled to be in your presence at last."

The grandiose declaration is one of the stranger things you have heard in your life and you used to deal with drunken patrons when you worked at a university bar. Maybe he was intoxicated; it would explain a lot.

"Look, this might work on other people but I just came out here to have a cigarette -"

It is his turn to interrupt you now. "You will have no need of those going forward. Your addiction to them will be replaced by me."

"Excuse me?"

You are trying to sound incredulous, however, inside you are rather frightened by the turn the conversation has taken. His gaze is not helping either.

The crystalline eyes are embodying every part of the descriptor; a hard, chill inducing blue. Ash drops from the smouldering cigarette as a tremble of fear rattles through you. The man sees this and the ice suddenly melts to a warmer hue.

His tone turns soft and gentle. "We are supposed to be together. Our union is fated."

He's staring at you expectantly even after your two attempts at rejection. You swiftly stub out the part-finished cigarette and take ownership in ending the interaction.

"I've had enough of this. I'm going back inside now. If you try and follow me, I will speak to the venue's management. If you are still here when I leave later, I will call the police."

You turn towards the door.

He calls your name. Your full name. Middle name too.

Despite your brain chanting at you to go inside, you can't stop yourself from looking back at him. "H-how do you know my full name?"

The profound rumble of his voice resonates deep in your ears. "I know everything about you, Y/N."

He's right in front of you now. His posture is bordering between desperate and predatory. Like he can't quite decide if he is seeking comfort from you, or if he wants to consume you.

You are fumbling behind you to find the door handle. "Please get away from me," you say hoarsely.

He reaches for your hand.

You jump back and struggle to get out of his grip but his strength is inhumanly strong. His skin of his palm is glacial against yours and yet somehow, the touch makes heat snake up your arm and settle in your chest.

You become aware of an internal feeling that you've always had, like that of chapped lips. Low level but something that constantly nags. Something that existed every minute of your life until the moment he touched you.

You grip his hand and look up at his face in astonishment.

"Good. That's it. Look into my eyes. See what you know is there."

You do as he says, totally stunned by the depths that seem to reside within them. It's as if there are universes suspended inside. Maybe there are. Perhaps you could float among the celestial bodies if you asked him to show you how.

You feel so alive and overstimulated that you welcome the delirious thoughts taking over your mind.

You welcome him.

It's like there is a cord connected between your heart and his that is shortening in length. The intensity scares you.

You obey, feet moving of their own accord and then you are standing before him, just centimetres apart.

"Give into the pull," he urges darkly, sensing your anxiety.

He smiles triumphantly and presses you flush against his body.

His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. More heat sears through you from the additional skin-on-skin contact.

Your peripheral vision closes tighter and tighter with every passing moment. The outside world is gone.

He leans in further and you wonder hazily if he is going to kiss you or break your neck. Both options are equally viable given the behaviour he has exhibited. You keep staring at him regardless.

His irises flash silver as he intones his next sentence. "Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."

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Taglist: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt

"Am I your dream girl? You think of me in bed. But you could never hold me. You like me better in your head."

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silentdiacht · 6 months

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Things that keep me up at night: ✨Spiderverse edition✨

Where did Gwen get this outfit from? She had nothing but the cardigan with her when arriving in Miles’ room, so where did she get these clothes from? Did she buy them? Did she steal them? They aren’t Rio’s, otherwise she would’ve pointed that out. When did she change into them? She’s not wearing her suit underneath them so did she speed-change out of them as soon as she said bye to Miles? Where did she keep her suit then?? Are there random piles of clothes strewn across spider-people’s universes that they just change in and out of??? Have they all mastered the art of speed-changing????

Can the other characters see Hobie changing colour palette and art style? Or is it one of those things where it’s just the audience that sees it? I understand the others not reacting to it since they’re used to Hobie, but if I were in Miles’ shoes and I just met a guy who changed colour before my eyes I would be way more vocal about it! “BuT SilEnt, MileS is DesEnsitisED to tHis sTuff” Yeah but he still REACTS to the weird shit that goes on around him! I feel like he’d at least make a passing comment if he could see it. Does Hobie think everyone around him is changing colour too?

Same question for Gwen and her universe. Like… can she see all this?? I would be super distracted if I was having an emotional moment with my dad and my surroundings started flash-banging me with random colours and shapes. (I know they’re meant to reflect her emotions but you know what I mean). If Miles came to her universe would he see all this? Or would it just look the same as 1610 to him?

Also why is Gwen the only character who doesn’t stay in her universe’s art style when she visits other universes?? The animators payed way too much attention to detail in this movie for that to be an accident right?!

And last but not least- WHY DID’NT HE PUT THE GUN DOWN?!?!

#across the spiderverse #atsv #hobie brown #spider punk #gwen stacy #shitpost #shower thoughts

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luveline · 11 months

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Hi id love to send u a request but I just can't match your genius mind, id looooveee more zombie!au Steve!!! 🥺🥺🥺🫶🏻🫶🏻 maybe smth about r or Steve almost being bitten by a geek?

hi!! thank you angel!! zombie au steve x fem!reader, 3k

"Sneaking around with your boyfriend would've been considered sort of scandalous a few years ago," you think aloud, eyes skipping over medication labels slowly. "Now it's the norm."

"We are the opposite of scandalous," Steve says.

You push pill bottles aside to meet his eyes through the gap in the shelves. He narrows his gaze. "You know how you saw me naked, like, a week after we met?"

Steve's glare turns playfully salacious. "Yeah?"

"Did that make it less, uh, important? Not important. Was it less intimate for you when I was naked on purpose?"

Steve returns his eyes to the pill bottles. "No."

"Is that weird for me to ask you?"

"No, that's not weird, why would that be weird?" He looks up again. His expression softens. "Don't worry, it's not weird. It's a normal question. You're wondering if I was… desensitised."

"Yeah, exactly. Were you desensitised?"

Trust Steve to say something snippy and then feel bad enough afterwards to immediately backtrack. There's no need for him to feel guilty because you'd known he was joking, and if he weren't it wouldn't matter to you —you know being outside of camp makes him nervous, and tightly strung. You aren't expecting him to be all smiles, especially when you're asking peculiar questions.

"If anything," he says, his voice a murmur that evidences shy affection, "it was way more special. I knew you back to front already, but the first time you showed me you, on purpose, it was different."

You grin at him. "Like a look don't touch scenario where you finally get to touch?"

"I'm trying to be sweet on you."

"What was it like?" you ask. Your smile is audible.

"Like fucking relief." He reaches through the shelves to squeeze your hand. "You're being slow."

You take your hand back and return to the task. You're looking for anti-seizure medication for one of the children at camp. It's an important mission and neither of you had hesitated when Joyce asked you to go, but you can't say you enjoy being out here. Talking to Steve makes things better. Easier to cope. Talking to Steve about loving him and being loved by him could make you forget a pike through the chest.

You move to the next shelf below.

There aren't many drugs for epilepsy. You aren't sure the child even has epilepsy, but no one has the knowledge to identify anything else. Sarah (Robin's fast friend from camp) read in her field medic journal that a seizure can be caused by lots of things, and she also said that sometimes what looks like a seizure isn't a seizure at all. What is it, then? you'd asked.

The page was missing.

You're working through a mental list of four drugs methodically, scanning and rescanning the labels on the bottles in the back of a pharmacy. This is the raw stuff, the kind that sometimes needs to be ground and poured into capsules with filler, so if you do find the right meds you'll also need to find a pestle and some other equipment. It's a hassle, but it's worth it completely if it helps.

"Clonazepam," you read. You lift your head. "Steve, that's the right one, right? Clonazepam?"

Steve's head snaps up. "Yeah, that's the last resort one. Where's that?"

He rounds the shelves to be on the same side as you, seemingly hoping for similar medications to be in the same place. His hand drops casually to your shoulder as he bends, reading each label with a determined brow.

"Valproate," he says, relieved, hand closing around another bottle. "Okay, two options. Thank god."

"Do they have the side effects on the bottle?" you ask.

Steve turns the bottle but there's no second label.

"The side effects are usually worse than the original problem," he says, frowning, "remember those migraine pills we found, the leaflet?" That's how bored you and Steve had become at one point in your isolation, you'd started reading medical pamphlets. "I'd rather have a headache than lose my sense of smell."

"Depends on how bad the headache is. You keep looking for the, uh, the carba-Tegre one. I'll go scout the equipment."

"Tegretol," he corrects lightly. "Carbamazepine, brand name Tegretol."

You're impressed by his memory. He sees that, and he lifts his hand to you. Palm your way, you can see he's written the names of the medication as you'd been advised to find by one of the camp members, a retired carer who worked bedside for a lady who suffered from epilepsy.

"Your spelling is terrible," you say.

"Whatever," he says flippantly. You're barely ten paces away when he adds, "I love you."

"I love you too," you say. There's no need to call. The building, this entire town, is silent. You'll hear a geek a mile away.

You poke at dusty equipment sceptically. You don't need filler, you don't think, but it affects absorption, maybe? You're not a pharmacist nor a chemist, whoever's watching knows you didn't have time to become much of anything, you're just doing as the retired carer advised. There's a press contraption with what feels like hundreds of caplet sized holes toward the front. You put it in your bag and lament its weight as you search for a pestle.

"I've found the filler," Steve says. "There's a huge container of it. Lactose. And another of starch."

"Starch, like potatoes? We could put her medicine in mash potato."

"I think we just need a pestle and a weighing scale now. And some hand sanitiser."

"I'll have the scales and the sanitiser, what about Robin's deodorant?" you ask.

"At the front. I'll get it. You'll have another one?"

"Please tell me they have that Carribean Crush one again, it was lovely."

"You're lovely. I'll find it."

The weighing scale must get its name from how ridiculously heavy it is. That along with the pestle has your bag feeling like a boulder attached to your neck. Maybe Steve will be willing to share the load with you. Actually, there's no need for maybe. If you tell him, he'll carry it with you happily.

You scan the room for useful things. Batteries, food, things you've trained your eye to pick out of a bomb site if necessary. You pocket a pen for Steve and leave the rest where it lays, stepping out into the slightly bigger medications room before rounding a plexiglass wall to the pharmacy counter. Steve crouches down the aisleway, rejected roll-on deodorant on the floor beside him.

You're about ten feet away from him when the geek lunges for him.

You can't even tell it's a geek at first, it moves quickly, quietly, smooth as a living human. They've become diverse as the infection thrives, and you should've been thinking about that fact. You should've been standing at the front of the room.

You freeze. You freeze and you waste time.

"Steve!" you shriek.

Steve's flat on his side, kicking with the entire force of his body. The geek actually bounces back with the force of each kick, but he's persistent, and stronger than he should be, a mottled hand on Steve's shoulder and decaying teeth snapping with a sound like cracking marble near his face. Steve tries to scramble from under the geek and its face falls down by Steve's ribs and upper arm. He yanks his arm away, and there's an odd ripping sound.

You run so fast down the aisle to protect him that you can't slow, the entire weight of your body and the heavy bag you carry throttling the geek with a horrid slap against the glass door. It flies open and you topple out onto asphalt, sliding across the geek's body and taking the brunt of your rolling in your hands and the top of your face. Steve shouts a war cry and barrels after you. You go on knees, hands trembling and rushing as you grab for the knife in your belt. Steve lands on top of the geek and drives the blade of his pen knife straight into the crease between its brows, grunting as he goes, his breath coming too fast.

You've clipped your head on the floor, the warmth of blood trickling down your brow. It doesn't concern you.

What concerns you is the sizable tear in Steve's coat.

He almost cuts you with his knife as you run at him, yanking the sleeves of his coat and jacket down.

"What– what are you doing?" he asks. You tug at his sleeve like you've been possessed, panic a coil that won't loosen in your throat. "What–?"

If he's been bitten, you'll have to saw his arm off. It's the most horrible thing you can think of, hurting someone you love, hurting the one person you love most. Your breath is half sob as you finally get his outerwear off of his arm. You don't know how to do that to somebody and especially Steve, how could you ever sever a limb? But if it will stop the infection, if it would save him—

You push the long sleeve of his t-shirt up his arm and stare down at his arm. Bruised near the wrist, pale, threaded with dark-green veins, his skin is unbroken. He hasn't been bitten.

You pull his arm to your chest and almost break down there in the street. Steve stands with his coat hanging off of his one shoulder and doesn't respond to your actions for a long, heavy second.

"You thought it bit me," he says.

Your breath catches.

"It didn't bite you."

"No," he says, "it didn't bite me."

"Your coat."

Steve pulls you back inside of the store. He looks around the room twice, and then leads you to an empty corner to hug you.

You're frenetic and frantic at once, hands sliding up and down his arm, eyes tracing his light skin like an injury might materialise.

"It didn't bite me," Steve says, "but you're bleeding."

You hiss as his fingertip locates your cut forehead. It must be a very small cut considering how little it bled. You've had head injuries that wept for hours, leaving you dizzy and disorientated from the subsequent lack of blood. This one's a wimp.

You've also seriously hurt your shoulder from the backpack's weight and your small skirmish. You're not going to tell him that, not now, not when you've been dropped face first into the horror of potentially losing him forever.

Steve eases out of his jacket. He takes your hand from his arm and pushes both sleeves up, bearing both arms in front of you.

"It didn't get me, honey. Try to calm down."

He says it softly, with no judgement or condescension. Only concern.

"I'm fine," you say.

It's strangled, you'll admit. Steve turns his arms to show you both sides before he tilts your head up and toward the meagre filtering sunlight, analysing your head injury in detail.

"Did you hurt yourself? When you fell, did it feel like you hit it hard, or was it something sharp?" You don't answer, and he gets snippy. "Y/N, tell me. Did it hurt?"

"Steve, you're the one who almost got bit."

"And you're the one who almost died of a fucking concussion not that long ago, in case you forgot. Sit down. I'm not kidding, sit down."

You blink, mildly startled by his hissing, and sit on the ground. He's being snappy because he's panicking, that's all it is. You hold back an unhelpful comment that your concussion had been months and months ago, so it kind of was long ago.

He lets his coat and jacket fall to the floor and jogs back up the aisle to the bandages and gauze. He takes a detour for antiseptic, and then he sets himself down in front of you.

"Did you hit it hard?" he asks.

You shake your head.

He doused a piece of gauze in antiseptic. "Sting," he warns, washing the length of your forehead with his makeshift wipe. He quickly swaps the bloodied one for a clean one. "Hold this."

You hold it. He gets back up, scouring the shelves by the bandages until he plucks out a small box. He crushes it with his hand and the medical tape inside falls into his waiting palm. He sits again, tears two strips, and lines the edges of your gauze with them. It would all be much easier if they had big band-aids.

"Show me your pupils, baby," he says.

Steve, for his street smarts and survival skills, used to freak out about injuries. But Steve freaking out freaks you out and he guessed that soon enough, so every cut and bruise these days is met with a silent approach. It's the opposite of your reaction. Embarrassment starts to creep in.

You widen your eyes and let Steve check your pupils.

"Same size," he says.

"It's just a cut."

Steve shuffles across the floor so his thigh is pressed to yours, rather than having his back to the store. He breathes out slowly, breathes in quick, and then forces the bottom of his palm into his thigh cruelly.

"How the fuck did that happen?" he asks. If he weren't being hyper vigilant, he'd be scrubbing his eyes in a tell tale nervous tic. "We haven't had something like that in months. We swept this whole place when we came in, where the fuck was he hiding? I feel sick."

"You do?" you ask, terrified.

"It didn't bite me," he assures you again. Thankfully without any annoyance.

"It ripped a chunk out of your coat with its teeth. Forgive me for thinking your skin was less hardy than pressed plastic."

Your acidity shocks you both.

Things are awkward for a split second, 'cos it's difficult to feel awkward around someone who you've spent every second of the day with since you met. You feel for a moment that you could just take him by the shoulders and shake him. You love him, you could never hurt him, but he has to see sense: he doesn't understand how much you need him. Not to keep you alive, but to give you a reason to do it yourself. If he got bit, you'd die. Plain and simple. Internally first, but surely the heartbreak would murder you in the end.

"I didn't know you were so disagreeable," Steve says.

"I didn't know you knew a word that long."

Steve laughs, startled. You want to be mad, but you're so thankful that he's not dying and so suddenly wiped you can only laugh with him.

"I forgot how quick you are when we fight," Steve says.

"We don't fight anymore."

"That could be amended. Especially if you're going to get fresh with me."

"You started it."

"I always start it." Steve flicks your shoulder."Let me see your head," he says. You turn your neck so he can see the outermost side of your head. "You swelled up like a helium balloon when you fell through that floor. It was right at the back of your head and I could tell something was wrong… This is fine. It bulged out last time."

"It what?" you demand, pulling another rare laugh from him.

He winds down, clasping your knee. You cover his hand, and only then do you realise it's shaking.

"Steve, you almost died."

"But I didn't die, I'm fine, and you need to stop freaking out because high blood pressure is definitely bad for a concussion. You could die yourself if you don't relax, seriously." Steve clears his throat. "Sorry, for getting heated. And thanks for knocking that guy clean off of me, what was that? You holding out on me when we wrestle? That was clean."

"That was like, a mom's adrenaline thing. No, not 'cos I'm your mom, idiot. Loved one's adrenaline. I thought you were gonna die and suddenly I could've run for fucking gold in the Tokyo Olympics."

"How did I get some of that? Whenever you're hurt I just feel like crying."

"I think the crying bit comes after. Maybe if you tried getting to me quicker you'd have enough adrenaline to save me."

He smiles before he talks, so you know it's going to be bad, "If a geek eats me during an adrenaline rush, am I a human Red Bull?"

"Okay, you have to keep an eye on the store because I need to be hugging you," you say, giving him little time to disagree as you climb on top of his lap.

It's not comfortable nor sexy, but for once you don't care how heavy you are. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck and cradle his head, his face hooked over your shoulder so that he can still see your surroundings. He slides his hands underneath your coat and hugs you in turn. Your heart's still racing, and his hands are still shaking, but you lived. He lived. You've defeated danger for the hundredth time.

"This really doesn't get any easier, does it?" you ask, petting his hair.

He pats your back. "No, I don't think so. S'why I need you with me."

"That's why I need you."

Steve dots a quick kiss against the column of your throat. When he puts his chin back atop your shoulder, it's with a heaving sigh.

"I can't believe you almost got bit," you say.

"Yeah, well. Nobody has any manners anymore."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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amuseoffyre · 6 months

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"I don't even know who I am"

What I have loved about the show from day one is that it has been an unflinching examination of identity and what makes it: the things that shape people into who they are and how that impacts on how they act and react to the world around them.

The exploration of Ed’s sense of self has been so beautifully handled and I know that if/when we get a third season, they’re going to do even more with it.

This is a character who has been raised with violence and cruelty his whole life, who was told “we’re just not those kind of people” when he yearns for something better, who killed to protect his mother, who ended up under the heel of a brutal tyrant of a captain who used sadistic punishments and death to keep his crew in line.

It’s the only life he knew and it’s the only option he sees himself as having. He has no concept of any other alternative until along comes Stede “there’s always another way” Bonnet and he’s fascinated. He even tells Stede as much the first time they met – “do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone doing something original out here? It’s impossible, man.”

Ned Lowe cements that fact in 2x06, describing Ed as a generic pirate and Ed immediately calls him out on the fact that he’s as messy as the rest of them even if he’s trying to act like he’s not, observing “It’s usually family stuff”. Stede even observes “A lot of your friends are troubled” and Ed fully admits “Yeah. Well. They’re pirates.”

There’s so much juicy meta to be had about the fact that Stede wants to desperately be a pirate and Ed doesn’t even catch that not only is Stede fully troubled but that it’s got Family Stuff etched all over it. He even says “you’ve got it all figured out”, but the Stede meta is for another day.

In S1, Ed’s in a pretty depressed space and finds a bit of a respite from it in Stede’s company. It lets him try out new things, things he didn’t think he was allowed/able to do, but he still follows a lot of the patterns of behaviour and actions that are standard in the pirate lifestyle that has been 80% of his lived experience.

He can switch violence on and off when he needs it (“next one goes through your fucking eye”), he doesn’t see anything wrong in talking about the violence he’s inflicted (“Well, this one time I was gouging an eye out of this lad’s skull”), he has a deep well of punishments that he can draw from (force-feeding body parts, mutilation, skinning, maiming) and all of these things are just so normalised for him that he’s desensitised to how horrific they are.

He’s still doing all those things while also telling stories, having fun, teaching people about fuckeries and generally being “more open and available than I’ve ever seen him”. He hasn’t wanted or needed to shed that side of his life because he’s getting the best of both worlds.

Only then Calico Jack pays a visit and ramps Ed’s behaviour up to 11 and this is the first time Stede – who is dealing with his own issues at the same time – says that there’s something wrong with the way he’s behaving.

Ed says to Stede, confused and stung, “This is who I am. This is me” when Stede points out all the behaviour he isn’t enjoying. And for him, at this point, this is him. This is what he’s grown up knowing and being. This is his lifestyle and part of the culture of the pirate community. We see it repeatedly when we see Ed encountering people from his past or in the Republic. It’s the frog-in-the-pot scenario. He’s been in the pot so long, he doesn’t know it’s been boiling the whole time.

Only the very next episode, at the academy, pared back to just be Edward Teach, born on a beach, he admits “I don’t know if I want to go back to the old days, drinking all day and forcing some bloke to eat his own toes for a laugh”. He’s been played and double-crossed by people who trusted him and he sees an alternative in Stede – “I’m your friend” Stede told him, and he wants that. He wants a friend he can trust. They can go off together, away from all that and everything’ll be fixed, right? That’ll make it all good.

And then…

And then we all know how that goes.

Briefly, very briefly he thinks he might be able to hold on to that different kind of thing, that softer, brighter world, but Izzy reminds him of the reality of their situation. That people he considers allies and friends can and will warn him to “watch his fucking step” and that this is not a world where he can let his guard down.

Either you’re part of that world or you die. Izzy said it as far back as episode 4. The only retirement they get is death. And so that’s the option Ed takes: either watch the world burn or die trying. Not like he can have anything else. For ever and ever, trapped in his life and world he has come to hate.

He sinks him into the worst of it to try and end things faster. He’s crueller. Relentless. Brutal. And no one seems to care that he’s shattering under the weight of it, until he forces their hand and goads them into killing him or letting him kill all of them.

Izzy says “we did this to him” to Stede, but neither of them seem to realise how much deeper Ed’s hurts go. Yes, they both had an impact on Ed, knocking away his sense of place and self and acceptance, but the wounds are far older and far deeper than they know.

It’s only when Ed is first forced to confront himself in the unsettling not-reality of the gravy basket that he takes the first step in understanding himself better. He’s forced to face the stuff he’s done and the worst parts of himself. He even tries to kill them, over and over again, until he realises.

I find it especially interesting that Buttons describes getting out of purgatory as “escaping”. That this is a place where you’re flayed down to the bones and forced to face the worst parts of yourself.

It’s so vital that he – and Stede – have the encounter with Anne and Mary. He’s reminded of the world that he was part of and the casual brutality that came with it. He’s shown that he and Stede could easily fall into those patterns, but instead Stede offers him honesty, comfort and the assurance that he is loved.

“A lot of your friends are troubled” Stede observes after and Ed admits that yeah, they’re pirates. He recognises that this is part of the social culture he grew up in and that it’s still impacting on him now.

But what happens next is so sweet and important. Buttons talks to him of learning to change, that nothing is fixed and that if you want to, you can change your path. And then Buttons shows him it’s possible and Ed’s face just lights up. Yes, brother. Fly. You can change things. You can choose another way.

Only it’s not simple. It’s not straightforward. With the probation period, Ed looks for quick fixes – offers to let Lucius push him overboard to get it over with and the like – but part of him still doesn’t quite get why some of the stuff he did was wrong because it was so normalised to him.

It takes Fang saying “I was terrified” to make him see it and coming from someone who has been with him for 20 years, realising someone else from within his own world was terrorised by him brings things into focus for him. That the things he thought were games weren’t. That the stuff he told himself was normal in context absolutely wasn’t normal.

And this is where Ed’s entire world view pivots. Fang shows him how to sit with himself, how to reflect. Ed takes this lesson to heart and he’s still working through it, gazing out to sea and thinking about it at the beginning of episode 6. He goes from never apologising for anything as a captain to telling both Fang and Izzy quiet, but meaningfully, “I’m sorry”.

He’s known for a long time that he’s tired of piracy, but the Ned Lowe situation is the thing to put the final nail in the coffin: this man hunted him down because of his pirating. This man hurt them all because of it. And worst of all, Ned took the man Ed loves and pushed and provoked him until Stede killed him. This was Ed’s “you defile beautiful things” moment. His face in those scenes, when he said “don’t do it, you can’t come back from this” is a call from his own experience. Stede is taking that step onto a path that Ed desperately wants to get off.

That night makes the decision for him.

The next morning, his leathers go overboard, a symbolic end to Blackbeard (and I will yell another day about him putting the proverbial beast back under the waves. Ed and his sea metaphors are gnawing me alive) and he’s happy about it, humming and hurrying back down to join Stede in their bed.

Stede doesn’t notice, though. Stede never would notice something like that being important because for him, Ed is Ed. Whatever he wears, whatever he does, he is Ed. A change of clothes doesn’t change him in Stede’s eyes.

But other people notice. Hell other people not noticing Blackbeard and only seeing some hobo dude is such a change. There’s something so significant that the people he chooses to talk to about it are the old guard in his field. He tells Jackie “it’s not a phase” and Izzy that it felt “fucking great” and both of them get it. Both of them have been there, seen it, experienced it.

Only it happens as he’s seeing Stede become what he used to be, stepping into the space he’s willingly leaving, and Stede is so happy about it. And he’s happy for Stede to have his moment and be appreciated, but it just throws into stark relief that this is absolutely not what he wants or needs right now. He still has a lot of figuring out to do and unfortunately, they’re both highly-emotional people and when they’re emotional, their communication goes down the toilet.

Once upon a time Ed said “this is who I am, this is me” to Stede, when he was acting exactly like Stede is now: raucous, drinking, chaotic and loud. Only time and reflection has let him see that wasn’t necessarily him but the environment and his circumstances shaping him to be like that, just as it's now making Stede act that way.

“I don’t even know who I am,” he admits in this argument. “I’m not ready for whatever this is”. He knows he has a lot more to figure out and because he’s latched on so hard to fishing as a place to be quiet and contemplate, that’s why he runs there. He wants to work himself out without the weight and pressure of the pirate world breathing down his neck.

Only he doesn’t talk about it, he doesn’t explain, he just tells Stede he’s leaving and Stede immediately sees it as something he’s said/done, rather than something that Ed is trying to figure out. They both hurt each other because Ed has always worried that Ed isn’t enough – the loss of the beard still weighs on them both – and that Stede is only humouring him to get Blackbeard, while Stede is so convinced that being a great pirate will mean he and Ed can be together as equals instead of him being a bumbling amateur who isn’t worthy of the man he loves, only to see it slip through his fingers.

They both need to talk to each other, but they don’t know how. Ed’s made quick, rash decisions, but they’ve come on the back of a lot of reflection and he just didn’t explain it. He’s right that he doesn’t know who he is himself. He’s never had the chance to just… take the time and figure it out. He needs that time, but they just don’t have it right now and they end up hurting each other more because of it.

I’ve said from the beginning that both of them are coming from opposite ends of the spectrum and that they’re destined to meet somewhere in the middle. Ed got his fantasies of a fancy life shattered in season one and now, Stede is seeing the impact of his pirate fantasies on the life he made for himself in season two.

Both of them are on the edge of a catastrophe curve, misunderstanding each other’s motivations and totally at odds with who they are versus who they have been told they need to be. They will get there, but two little lost boys finally taking off the rose-tinted glasses and dealing with the mess that they have carried with them their entire lives isn’t easy.

And I will fully admit I am loving it.

#ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #ofmd #ed teach #long post

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lovverletters · 6 months

Note

Ok so I did send a request idea but im also still thinking about the serial killer guy and im just.

Im so love him so so much and just

Sobbing crying and holding his face gently.

Im so gay. Im such a gay lil man for big scary dude

And I just wanna.... dote on him.

Like ok I mean yes he HAS killed people and all and is kinda super scary

But god my dumb ass with a big heart just seeing him covered in blood and maybe hurt somehow and going like "hey... hey uh... let's get you cleaned up and patched up ok?"

And just being so gentle with him, wiping the blood off and maybe even learning to stitch wounds closed just for him.

Ok so what if maybe he has kidnapped me. He means well I think! Hasn't done anything to hurt me so I mean come on maybe he is lonely and needs some kindness ya know? (Totally not delusional ♡♡♡)

I mean sure it was scary at first and all but like he's a person too right? He's got a heart. He needs some gentle care and love.

Making him a flower crown, putting stickers on his mask and arms, holding his hand gently and just feeling his big palms with my smaller lil hands and treating him with such gentle care.

I am so sappy and gay im sorry

I just love him-

♡Bunny (whos a gay lil idiot♡♡♡)

Yandere! Serial Killer part 2

A/N : this was supposed to come out on Halloween but um things happens💟 hope you like it! Sorry for the ending heh🐰

T/W : blood, mentioned of murder, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome(?), the reader lowkey kinda insane too, yandere themes.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[Name] stared at the screen of the television showcasing a random horror movie absentmindedly, not paying much attention to it as their thoughts were occupied.

It was well past midnight and they were still wide awake.

They were unable to sleep due to the loud thundering sounds of the storm outside and decided to watch a movie instead and hopefully fall asleep to it.

It didn't work obviously as they were currently staring blankly at the scene of a man being brutally murdered by an axe-wielding killer in the movie. It was concerning how they barely reacted to the grotesque scene.

They've seen real horrors before.

[Name] has essentially been desensitised of seeing blood and gore. The sight being far too common nowadays after they met him.

Their ears perked up at the sound of a jingling keys and the doorknob twisting open. He's home. [Name] turned their gaze from the movie to the man who's currently standing at their front door.

"You're back and.. bloodied as usual" They greeted him, eyes trailing over his current state.

Lorn was covered in blood from head to toe, both his and his victim's they presumed. Cuts and scratches littered his muscled arms, some look fairly deep ones as it bled. The killer stood still as a statue all the while [Name] inspected him, he knew [Name] will be angry at him for walking around bathed in blood so he remained glued to his spot.

"Found a tough one. Scratched and sliced me once with a knife. That's why m'so bloodied, had to cut their limbs off f'touching me" He explained, staring at [Name] who were grabbing the items they had kept in the supply closet.

If they had not known better, they would've thought he was innocent, incapable of harm as he stared at them through his red horned mask with those adoring eyes. Who would've thought that the infamous Lovelorn killer was a small puppy towards his object of affection.

"Come here, let's get you cleaned and patched up. Wouldn't want you to bleed everywhere, blood is hard to get out of carpet okay?" They motioned him to strip his clothes off and dump it in the basin of clothes to be washed separately.

As they wiped the blood off of Lorn, stitched and wrapped him up in bandages they were overcome by a realisation. Something feels off about themselves. A normal person would've screamed bloody murder and ran to the police but here they are pampering a serial killer who they are living with.

'I might be insane myself' they thought to themselves, chuckling humourlessly.

It had been months since they were locked inside this house with only Lorn as a company. They were protesting at first, demanding to be freed but even then deep down they didn't really care. [Name] only did it because it's what they thought a sane person would do.

Maybe they and Lorn aren't that different.

[Name] snapped out of their thoughts when a rough hand were placed on their jaw, the touch so gentle they barely feel it.

"What's wrong?" Lorn was looking at them with those eyes again.

They shook their head and smiled, continuing their work of stitching up closed a cut on his arm. After they were done, Lorn stood up and englufed them in a hug, their sizes difference were apparent as he towers over them with his muscular built.

"Thank you. I love you so much, [Name]" He said, burying his face on their hair.

They pat his back and suddenly a thought crept up in their mind. They bit their lip as they contemplate on wether to ask him or not.

Fuck it.

"Hey, Lorn?" He hummed in reply, too busy mooching off their warmth.

"Why don't I join you the next time you went out for a kill?"

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

#yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oc #tw: yandere #yandere #gender neutral reader #yandere male #yandere headcanons

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not-poignant · 1 month

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I get the impression that there’s some tough times over there so I’m sending all the love and support I can x

There have indeed been some tough times, anon <3

It's just a few things converging all into this year (including my ongoing tumour/cancer surveillance to make sure my head/neck tumours aren't growing or that I don't have any new ones), on top of training an intense little enthusiastic smart puppy who we discovered has pretty serious Separation Anxiety and then instigating slow and tedious separation training which is exhausting (imagine having ADHD and then having to get up every 2 minutes around 10-30 times a day to go to the door to desensitise to it and ask me how your hyperfocus is holding up sadlkfjas).

He's wonderful, but he's also currently in puppy jail (the lounge behind baby gates lmao) because he's just discovered that it's fun to chase our elderly cat, so I think I'm back to having to leash him when we go outside into the back garden.

Tbh between overworking on the writing front for about a year, raising Toby to be a responsible little canine dude, some interpersonal stuff (those three words are doing some real heavy lifting), and some health stuff, the death of my uncle in December (on my Mum's side, and one of the few family members who I was close to), and the state of the entire world right now, I'm just very much done with it all a lot of the time and taking breaks wherever I can get them.

Today is a work day though, I've got some editing on the table, I want to do more Relaxation Training with Toby (I was hoping to do some trick training as well, but instead I'm waiting for his brain to calm down enough that he just disengages from Maybe (miss elderly cat)), I was hoping to cook tonight (we'll see), and the weekend promises to be pretty busy!

Anyway, there are good things too! I'm just... sometimes very sad or depressed or being sucked down a whirling vortex of despair at the moment, and that makes it harder to appreciate the good things. The love and support are so very appreciated anon. I am doing my best, as I suspect we all are! <3

#asks and answers #personal #honestly i'd sum it up as 'life has not been kind lately'#also there's no easy path through separation anxiety #it is what it is #but it's a challenge because this is the first time i've ever owned a dog #and so i'm learning about dog #but also learning about complex dog at the same time #administrator gwyn wants this in the queue

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vigilante-izuku · 10 months

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i have some thoughts !!

if danny was in love with you and you said you would only be with him if he gave up the murders, i think he would. you’re right that it would be difficult because it’s all he’s ever known, it feels like an extension of himself. but you’re the only person he’s ever cared about and if releasing all that cruelty caged inside him is what he has to do to have you then he’d be willing to try. i think he’d go to therapy. obviously he wouldn’t confess to the things he’s done but he’d admit to having a violent side and admit that he wants to be better. for you.

in terms of not killing anymore, i think he’d be mostly successful. until something happens to you. you get hurt at the hands of another person and danny loses it. maybe he doesn’t even mean to, it’s just a natural reflex and he knows as soon as it’s happens that it was a mistake. you’re there and you instantly stumble away from him, eyes wide and trembling. you knew what he was capable of but you’d never seen it. he rushes over to you, blood stained hands cradling your face, soft voice apologising over and over even as you flinch at his touch. maybe you try to pull away from him and he begs you. ‘darling, please. don’t try and run. i know i messed up but i did it for you. to protect you, yeah? i won’t let anyone hurt you.’

i think that would be his only expectation, you being in danger. he understands that you don’t want to be with someone who murders for the thrill. someone who strategically finds victims and then brutally attacks them. he may have grown up desensitised to violence but he’s not stupid, he knows it’s not normal and that you wouldn’t be okay with it. so he makes a lot of effort to not be like that anymore but the second your life is at risk and the only way to keep you safe is to hurt the other person first, he wouldn’t hesitate.

THIS IS MAKING ME SCREAAAAAAAM !!!!!!

because of course thats the only exception. when it comes to protecting you, he's going to do whatever it takes to protect the one thing he cares about.

ALSO imagine afterwards, when he takes your trembling form back inside, into a bathroom so he can clean your bloody face. he's touching you so gently, so softly. it almost feels like a contradiction with how much violence those hands has committed and how they cradle your face like he's touching something fragile.

#eri's answers #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x reader #jed olsen x reader #tw: slashers

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lyndentree63 · 7 months

Text

So you wanna watch Burrow's End but you are a Delicate Flower (TM) and don't know if you can tolerate gore, body horror, suspense, etc. But you reeeeaaallly really love Aabria DMing and all the players, and all your friends are excited and talking about it, what do you do? (It's me, I'm the Delicate Flower.)

First, know the difference between "this is uncomfortable" and "this is unsafe". It's really important to be in tune with your body and know what's inside your window of tolerance, what's on the edge of your window tolerance and what is straight-up trauma triggering you.

If you know ahead of time what your specific trauma triggers are, look at the content warnings, ask friends, or ask in the Discord server (either on the Burrow's End channel or DM the mods) for if those specific things are described and/or shown. Note the time stamps.

Skip the sections that trauma-trigger you. That might be the whole episode. Or the whole season. Take care of yourself. But if you think it's uncomfy and just outside of your window of tolerance, carry on. . .

If it's something that you think you might be ok with, try reducing visual input: listen to the audio-only version, adjust your screen setting so things are in different colours, make your browser window small to reduce details. If you're near-sighted like me, take your glasses off to blur things.

Alternatively, your brain might make things MORE detailed and worse than they actually are, in which case, try watching and focusing on the cast, their interactions, the funny bits, the sweet bits. Also try half-watching it while doing some other task like folding laundry, or doing something like knitting or hand-sewing.

Look at the set with analytic movie-maker brain. How did they make this TECHNICALLY? What shots are they using? Notice the cuts, the lighting, the paint details. Think about the boring nitty-gritty backstage details that went into making this.

Watch with someone safe.

Make stupid jokes (The Blue is Walmart)

DO NOT EAT WHILE WATCHING (Alternatively, eating and drinking may actually help because eating food activates the parasympathetic nervous system aka the calm down system)

Take it in small chunks. Watch only a few minutes at a time, and then do something else grounding and calming.

Watch during daylight, so you can process stuff BEFORE you have to sleep.

Have an aftercare plan in place, either for processing (talk about it with a friend, yell about it on Discord or Tumblr, journal, have a little sob, make art about it) or for distracting (watch funny and wholesome videos, scroll Instagram, go to work, play with your cat, read a book, go for a walk, have a wild dance party)

Have an after-aftercare plan in place for when stuff crops up a few days or weeks later and unwelcome things pop into your brain. (Hint: treat 'em like intrusive thoughts; just let them fly through like li'l bats out to get a mosquito dinner and move on to the next thought.)

Read all the spoilers beforehand (on the Dropout Discord, here, on other socials), and desensitise yourself to pictures that way.

Write a tumblr post to help other people out

Don't feel ashamed for reacting with disgust, horror, feeling like you want to cry and generally being a Delicate Flower. We all have different nervous systems and different tolerances and life experiences and traumas, you're not better if you can stomach gore and horror and you're not Too Much if you get squeamish at just the thought of some of the things mentioned in ep 2 of Burrow's End.

#dimension 20 #burrow's end #burrow's end spoilers #aabria iyengar #stupendous stoats #how to deal #anyways I'll see how much of these I actually end up using #I really hope I can make it through episode 2 because being on this ride with the fans as it's releasing is FUN #even if gory battle maps aren't fun #aabria I trust you #but let's see how far that trust goes #cause I gotta take care of my nervous system too

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yanderes-galore · 19 days

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Hello hello! Sorry this took a while but I'm finally finished! I wasn't sure about how much you knew about the game or if its just been awhile and maybe you've forgotten some stuff so I tried to include any info that might be important or that might add some context. Plus some in game dialogue that's written in blue and terminal entries are in orange. I also included some of his backstory as well. I hope this helps! :))

• He's wanted by the Halcyon Holdings Board and has been hiding way in his lab for the last 35 years to avoid being arrested and/or executed.

• He's determined to save the thousands of colonists remaining trapped on the Hope in their hibernation chambers and to save the colony from the Boards wrongdoings.

• (The Hope is a ship containing thousands of people who were supposed to make it to Halcyon but ended up arriving decades later due to a malfunction in the ship. The Board decided to hide the ships discovery to avoid backlash from the people. Phineas was a scientist working for the Board at this point and grew frustrated that nothing was being done to help those trapped. He tried to find a way to help the people by attempting to revive them behind the Boards back, eventually being caught and classed as a murderer and criminal)

• Later on in one of his entries he states that he is indeed a murderer and that he's regretful of his actions. He also believes that only the Hope's colonists can forgive him.

• "They say I'm a murderer - and they're right. I am. I regret what I've done. But I'm not about to turn myself in to the Board. I'm not going to go begging the Board's forgiveness." "Only the Hope's colonists can forgive me for what I've done. They're the only people who can set things right. And I'm going to find a way to revive them, no matter how long I have to stay in hiding."

• In a way he might even be considered to have a bit of a saviour complex.

• Most likely would've found the reader at the start of the game when he randomly selects a colonist from a hibernation chamber who becomes the MC.

• Seems relieved (maybe a bit happy as well?) when getting a new potential ally, especially since the few people that he has spoken to recently have all died due to explosive cell death. "Looks to be your lucky day, my friend."

• Due to having a bounty on his head, he doesn't have many people he can trust and rely on, the few he trusts are those living on the Groundbreaker.

• (The Groundbreaker is an orbital station and is the only place in the game that isn't under the control of the Halcyon Holdings Board)

• He convinces the MC to help with getting more chemical supplies to save the other colonists. (If he became yandere at this point he'd probably use this as a tool to keep the MC helping him by potentially guilt tripping them (sorry I'm just rambling here lol)) "Unfortunately, I used the last of my chemical supplies saving you. I know it's a lot to ask, but I must have your help securing more if we're to save the rest of your fellow colonists." "Good luck. I'm... all the colonists are counting on you."

• Phineas sounds more annoyed that Hawthorne was crushed under the pod than shocked or surprised. Not really seeming to care all that much, immediately dismissing it as a minor inconvenience and telling the MC to go and steal his ship.

• "Hawthorne won't mind you taking his ship. Better you than the Board, eh?"

• (Now that I think about it he's probably just desensitised to death at this point and assumes the MC is too (they probably are as well to be fair))

• Absolutely hates the Board and everything they stand for. "I need those chemicals to revive the Hope's colonists. They can help us fight back against the Board. They can help us set things right. If we don't put a stop to the Board, they're going to drive this colony toward a complete societal collapse." "The Board, all their lackeys - they're all a bunch of SWINE! Do you hear me? They're fucking corporate SWINE!"

• Phineas definitely has PTSD from his past failed attempts at reviving the colonists as written in his entries. "Can still hear the screaming. Trouble sleeping. Trouble concentrating. Psychological toll... significant. On to subject number thirteen."

(In my opinion I could definitely see him being more of a subtle/manipulative yandere. Like maybe he'd try to convince the MC that the only person they can trust is him. Honestly I'm actually really excited for his concept now haha. Funny cuz I didn't even know this game existed until like 3 days ago lol-)

🐋~ anon

Posting this to look at when I'm more awake. (Accidentally set an alarm when I didn't need one and now I'm half sentient)

YOUR HELP IS GREATLY APPRECIATED, THANK YOU FOR WORKING SO HARD FOR ME, YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO! 🥺💜💜💜

#panther ideas for later

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tadpolesonalgae · 7 months

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ICBMTHY is sooo good. it gave me a lot of thoughts!

i know it wouldn't make sense for eris to be nice but that was so mean and for absolutely no reason? i hope she kicks his ass more but i also think this friendship would be what she needs to grow a backbone because right now it's painful to watch but the ic clearly isn't helping and azriel is making it worse

also azriel is being so mean too and i know it's for the angst but my dude really interrupted her booty call for no reason and then trapped her into a conversation to call her a burden like i know you've picked up better conversation skills in 500 years. like he's kinda right in saying she is naive (second hand embarrassing inducing so) and doesn't know how things work... then sit her down and explain it to her instead of attacking her, i would have jumped out of his arms and wouldn't even care about what happened to me bc i know he'd blame himself

ALSO her powers seem interesting, she glows?? like starfall?? that sounds fun and it kinda sounds that eris might be the one to help her with those powers at least for now (that line saying the ic would pounce on her powers and do all kinds of things to get them to work is so true though that's one of the things that annoys me the most about them)

anyway this story is seriously so good, i think you might be my favorite writer on tumblr. you genuinely know how to keep a story engaging and still have it make sense instead of just filling it with unnecessary smut to make up for it, even your heavily spicy ones always give something at least in the background. also i like how you play with characters, i think a lot of people write character too ooc but you manage to take the essence of the characters and change them how you need them without losing their true self. like how you write dark az and in this story he's kind of acting like an asshole but you still see bits and pieces of azriel in all of them

Honestly I agree Eris was a little OOC in that swan part—I’m deciding he was stressed from Father Vanserra breathing down his neck and he needed the comedic relief :)

But hey! She ended up actually doing something about it, maybe he will help her grow a little backbone—or rather feel it’s okay to hit back sometimes!

And yeah, poor Bas 😕 He was READY (I can’t promise any more of him though, I’m sorry 😭)

Things kind of escalated way too quickly when they were flying together; I’m putting that down as the whole IC being incredibly wary of Eris because of the Mor incident, and also the Autumn Court isn’t exactly known for being particularly fair or welcoming, so it’s kind of believable Eris would inherit those traits from his father :/

Also I feel like a surprisingly big part of angst (for me at least) is the edge of humiliation? How reader allows herself to be degraded and doesn’t really fight back or protest against it because she doesn’t see it as being wrong, more that it’s expected/deserved? I think most people respond stronger if it’s their dignity that’s being targeted, which helps with the angst because of how low one has to go to deliver a blow like that :)

I’m so excited to write more about her powers and how they manifest!!! Also about who’s going to try to help her, but who’s going to actually succeed in helping her and then how she manages with the new development!!

I suppose with Silver Flames (I know some people have mixed feelings about how the characters were written) they’d just been through a second war (civil war??) where they came so close to loosing so much, and despite how most of the IC has already been through one, I can’t imagine you can become desensitised to something as bloody as open, gratuitous murder to such a massive scale.

Anyway, that was a long-winded way of saying I can see how so many mistakes were made in the aftermath of the devastation of war. It’s not an excuse or a justification but I really don’t think it would be realistic for the characters to come out unscarred from a second war.

That last paragraph is just— thank you

I’m so happy people find those fics to be suitably engaging, and enough to continuously choose to interact with them.

The fact alone that you’ve taken your time to articulate how you feel is so important to recognise for me.

Playing with what certain characters might do while keeping it relatively believable is something I try to do, and it means so much to me that you think I’ve succeeded 🧡

#anons <3 #CBMTHY #thank you 🧡💛

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sol-consort · 3 months

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You have just opened the floodgates to my long-repressed ME smut ideas I had nowhere to air out. I hope you know I appreciate you💙

Anyways. So. I have a headcannon that biotic fields are, like, personal to each user. For example, if someone raises a shield on someone else, it will feel slightly different depending on who does it, if that makes sense? Anyways, I was thinking in relation to that about human biotics, whose fields feel a little more staticy, especially the early generations, each use giving them slight zaps, sometimes its just their hairs standing on end, other times it's stronger, like getting shocked by an electric fence, really it depends on the strength of the ability and on how they wake up that day, but each person just... feels different. Could inspire deeper connections whether or not romance was present, the comfort of knowing its them, the familiarity of not just their touch or voice but their general being, knowing they have your back each time enemies fly into the air and the air gets that slight smell of ozone and their unmistakable presence.

Ngl, I forgot where I was going with this. I know it was about Kaidan, but I can't remember what it was😅 I'll let you know when I remember more, lol

AAA first ever request on this blog let's fucking gooo!!☆°•●○~

Gonna make it about our beloved support man, Kaidan.

Humans are unbelievable good at pattern recognition in everything. Even things we are not aware of, we still recognise a pattern for, that's the core mechanics of a gut feeling and what helped us survive.

Much like each person having a different gut biome☆ biotics would definitely be different from person to person, think like fingerprints or how each hug is different.

Kaidan's would feel different especially because he is an L2 and one of the first generation of human biotics.

Electricity is more natural to us than we think, it runs in our brain, neurons constantly firing off. So it's nor far fetched for the biotic shields to just align the right way to make us feel certian things on our skin and in our body.

Kaidan is constantly behind you in battle, watching over you and assessing your health and shield. The closest thing to a token medic you could call out for in desperation.

His shields would feel like a wave of soothing chill after the burn of a bullet, like the comfort of a ibuprofen after a strong headache. It's refreshing and makes you focus on the moment.

It's also intimate in a way you can't explain, in a way that feels very Kaidan. You've felt the shield of other biotics, ones that felt like a warm soft blanket, others that felt reassuring and desensitisating like a surgical table.

You would always murmur a small thank for Kaidan after his soothing shield cools off your burning body, drying off your sweat under the armor suit and lessening the ache of your joints.

And he'd eat those small compliments up. Be it a full thank you or an appreciative nod of the head. One time, you said, "Good job, Kaidan." A slip of the tongue where you forgot his title amidst the battle, it rings in his head to this day.

How breathless your voice was, the genuine gratitude in it as you praised him for doing such a good job at watching over his commander, having your back. You acknowledged his effort in supporting the team when lesser soldiers would scoff at his lack of combat power.

Somehow, you're always the first to get his shield during battle. His top priority over everyone else in the battlefield. You can confidenlty storm through a crowd of enemies and be confident that your lieutenant has your back.

One time your hand brushed against his and you noticed something. How soothingly cold it was.

Also feel free to flood my inbox with all of your thoughts I am literally starving like a hungry mutt for Mass Effect concepts. I am frothing at the mouth as we speak I am going to gnaw at the GPU of my pc.

#☆Kaidan #☆fluff #mass effect x reader #kaidan alenko #Kaidan x reader #Kaidan x Shepard

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girl4music · 5 months

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“Is it murder if the person deserved it? Warren deserved it. Rack deserved it.”

Erm…. Yes.

Unless the person who killed the person was acting in self-defence or it was a killing where the intention wasn’t to kill anyone. It just ended up happening.

In that case it’s referred to as manslaughter and not necessarily murder. It depends on the circumstances. When it is self-defence it is often necessary to kill but you could still indeed be convicted of manslaughter. And as for killing but unintentionally killing - very likely you will be convicted of manslaughter. Laws may vary between countries and states. But anything goes when it comes to TV art/entertainment. But I would say Willow purposefully killing Warren is murder. And to refer to it as manslaughter would be a grave insult because that dick deserved to be murdered by Willow. And as for Rack - well, she did the world a favour. Not sure on whether he was fully human or not but then I would also say the same about Willow. Witchcraft doesn’t necessarily make you something other than human but I would think you’d have to be more than human to be as powerful as either Willow or Rack was because magic - especially dark magic - is a very potent drug and if you were just sucking it out and ingesting it all the time, you’d have to be able to withstand the amount you take without overdosing. So yeah, I’d say you’d have to be more than human. Willow after her stint as Dark Willow should have indeed died because she absorbed far too much. However, if her becoming Dark Willow did make her more than human - then that explains why she didn’t. I believe there was some demon in her from then on.

Same as how Cordy became part demon after the events of ‘Birthday’ when she decided to take the visions back. Those visions would have killed her if she hadn’t become something more than just human.

Humans are very complicated beings but whether in reality or in art/entertainment - we’re very fragile. We can’t endure much and that’s part of why accepting ourselves as for what we are is a very brave thing. Pretty much anything can take us out - be physical, mental or emotional. We’re just not made to last. Part of what makes watching supernatural or fantasy art/entertainment so enthralling is because we can escape into a Universe where we can feel like more. Buffy does a great job of showing the benefits of being human while also sticking to the realism of it BUT ultimately - the characters that aren’t human or are more than human are the most interesting ones and it’s precisely because we’re not familiar with it. We get bored of and even desensitised by completely human characters like Xander, Riley or Tara because they’re so much like ourselves and we’re not interested in looking in the mirror. We want out of it. I fully admit, accept and embrace this about myself. It’s not just the morally grey characters that I am interested in the most. It’s also the non-human ones.

For me - Willow in particular is a character that starts off human but ever so slightly becomes supernatural.

It’s not stated directly and explicitly. I just think that’s the most plausible take of what her arc amounts to.

Becoming more than human and struggling with it. Reading it this way provides more depth to her conflict with her identity. There’s more to explore. And it makes the only sole main protagonist that remains fully and totally human - Xander - far more interesting because somehow he made it when he shouldn’t have. When I talk about how fragile humanity is - he was literally a walking target all throughout and survived by the skill of his own wit and not by supernaturalness. The fanbase loves to throw him under the bus because “Joss self insert” but I think it counts for something that he made it all the way to endgame and after. Then again, I don’t think the creators were brave enough to kill any of the main protagonists off after killing Tara.

#buffy the vampire slayer #willow rosenberg #alyson hannigan #warren mears #adam busch #rack #jeff kober #cordelia chase #charisma carpenter #xander harris #nicholas brendon #murder #more than human

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sophieswundergarten · 10 months

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@nobody33333333 Look! I actually completed my notes on the day the chapter was posted for once /s

Asjasdgkjaafdgkjakhjafkhjdfa!!!! ALREADY LOSING IT!!!! SO INCREDIBLY HAPPY YOU UPDATED TODAY.

The contrast of Curtain being like "Hmm. I have been betrayed yet again. Oh well." and trying to treat it like a mild inconvenience because he's, like, horribly desensitised, versus Sticky who's like "It's all over. We lost, the others have been captured, it's the end. I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop and squish me like a bug" is actually kind of funny in a very sad way

HEY CURTAIN. MAYBE PART OF YOUR ISSUE IS THAT YOU'RE REFERRING TO CHILDREN AS "BACKUPS"

"Not when he himself knew how it felt to be unwanted and alone" He's still wrong and I want to smack him, but also I feel kind of bad now

It's very funny and also sort of heartbreaking that he actually finds Reynie's joke "very funny", even though he had to puzzle it out first

THIS MIGHT BE THE FIRST TIME IN LITERAL YEARS HE'S ACTUALLY LAUGHED, AND IT'S FOR SUCH A HORRIBLE REASON.

Bods, your trick with unreliable narration is spectacular. I am always getting caught off-guard by how deluded Curtain can be

"And he would stop at nothing to make sure that Kate Wetherall was never alone or abandoned again" YES YES YES YES. OH MY WORD I AM ELATED I AM OVER THE MOON THIS IS AMAZING I AM SO SO SO VERY EXCITED I LOVE THIS

It's so, so painful and fascinating how you detail Curtain's projection onto/identifying with Sticky making him actually hurt and vulnerable. There's a depth of character and complex thought that isn't seen in the show

Not a huge detail, but I love that he refers to them as "his brother's children" in that way :)

BUT HE PUSHES HIMSELF AWAY BECAUSE HE CAN ONLY THINK IN THE BINARY OF WINNING/LOSING. IF HE ACTUALLY HAD A BRAIN THEY MIGHT HAVE GOT SOMEWHERE OH NO

And once again you've taken canon show plot points and made them so much more painful with your own details. He's not just grieving the loss of Nicholas, he still isn't over losing Pedalian. Or his wife, or even Kate's mom or Milligan or Garrison. He may not have permanently lost all of those people, but he's still frozen in the process of mourning what he once had because he won't let himself feel it

"No. Curtain couldn’t forgive them. / And he would never forgive himself." Well, that's a lot more gut wrenching than I was expecting it to be. His main hangup isn't that he's angry, it's that he's guilty

Oof. That cut off in the middle of Curtain’s rant is beautiful.

Circus choreography!! Yes!! I love how you keep sneaking in backstory references!

Akadskjhdkjhdsakj. I know, I know, you keep reminding me that this is all dictated by the show and it’s not really your fault, but it’s definitely your fault that I’m so dang attached to your version of these characters now and I am going to replace all your scissors with palette knives

Oh my word, of course the Grays somehow missed Milligan having a bunch of flares in his pocket

Oh boy. Jeffers. I still feel a little bad for him, and, honestly, if all the other Grays hadn’t also thought it was Curtain speaking, I really think he would have been fired over this

WAIT. It’s the rock throwing kid!!! Once again, your J&J dialogue is absolutely immaculate and I can very much see them saying this. But I have so many questions about this kid

(Especially because he’s chucking rocks at a seagull. Rude)

SQ!!!!!!

He has no idea what horrors await him

Erika!! I still quite like her. She has to put up with a lot

THE BIRD STUFFED ANIMAL

Oh no, and he really has never left the island before. This is awful. I am so sad for him. Especially because we don’t see him basically at all in S2 and so you have pretty much free reign to Put Him Through Things and I Am Scared, Bods

“He must have been pretty tired” Oh my goodness yes. The man must be exhausted. I hate knowing that he’s just going to fight with Nicholas when he wakes up :(

“It felt more like looking in a broken mirror” No. Oh heavens this is so painful I am regretting being excited about this chapter now I am SAD /j

And, once again, they are both somehow thinking a lot of the same things about each other, but horribly warped and self-deprecating

I do so deeply love the little overlapping argument they have, though, from an audience standpoint, and you did not disappoint with your spin on it!!!!

Adfjjdas I love that Curtain actually listened and took that acid into account. He was probably just like her when they were little

And somehow Curtain is still reacting to the pretend Nicholas he has built up in his head that’s being puppeted by his own self-doubt and shame!!! JUST TALK TO HIM FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE YOU IDIOT

“his close associates or family members (SQ and Garrison)” EEE!!!!! I know there are so many other horrible, awful things going on but I love that he still includes her mentally as important (Even if he’s being a bit stupid about it)

“Maybe he was finally getting through to his brother” NO!!! THE DRAMATIC IRONY AND INEVITABLE BETRAYAL

(I do have to wonder, though, how much of that speech was genuine, and Curtain was just lying to himself that he didn’t feel it at all…)

“Maybe Nicholas hadn’t lost his brother to The Sender” Another insanely poetic and cutting line. I love your style of writing so incredibly much, Bods

Okay. Okay. But “So familiar that Curtain himself almost instinctively stepped forward to catch Nicholas in his arms. But he held himself back and scoffed as Nicholas hit the floor with a loud thud” and how Milligan tried to catch Curtain in Chapter 7, and that little narrative hint about how it might have changed the outcome, and then this :(

Also, following it up with “It was only fair considering Nicholas had sent those children to make him pass out” Oh my word he’s so petty. Sibling Behaviour

ELEVATOR TIMER???? Either I didn’t notice that (Entirely possible) or you invented it, and either way, that is AMAZING

Secret Back Entrance!!!!

Marie Curie’s notebook, Bods!! The idea that Garrison is just subtly packing up and hiding during All That is insane.

(I wonder if Nicholas reminded her at all of how Curtain used to be a bit)

I adore how Number Two immediately goes after Curtain in whatever way possible. That is exactly what I would expect from her and it made me so happy.

Also!!! The kids running off to check on Mr. Benedict as a unit with Rhonda and Number Two’s reaction is so lovely. I cannot get over how you write them

WHOOO!!!!! I always get such a rush when you publish a new chapter, Bods. (And I was secretly hoping that you might have something ready today, because it’s my birthday and this was so, so fun to read) I’ll never know how you do it, but the fact that I can read something that is written from a tv show I have seen several times, which was in turn based off a book I have read even more times, and you still give me the ability to look at it with fresh eyes is a wonderful gift.

You are so skilled!!! I can’t wait to see what you’ll do next, especially with the hints you keep dropping about certain things. And we’re almost at the end of S1!!!! I can’t believe it. You have been setting this up with such an amazing build up that I looked back and couldn’t believe how much you’ve written!! This new chapter gets you to 164,237 words. That’s longer than The Two Towers. You’ve basically written an entire novel already, and you’re not even finished yet!! One of these days I’m going to have to take up bookbinding just so I can create a physical copy for myself to actually hold.

Thank you, thank you, thank you once again for sharing this amazing piece of writing :D

And I hope you have a lovely day

#And I think it was short enough this time that I don't have to weird text breaks!!#Nice #I hope it's not too short #Still going insane over the stunning visuals this created in my head though #All the intercut scenes of all the different humans going through so many different things #Please also know that if I ever get excited about a Show thing I forgot (Or even in general)#It doesn't detract from your writing at all #I'm just excited over how you worked it in/made it new with your phenomenal language art skills #Thank you so much for this!!!!#s.o.s.

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menalez · 5 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/amaka-nneka/735911907369861121/i-mean-like-the-reason-why-radical-feminists-view?source=share

thoughts? i will send another post later for you to comment on too lol

hm well, to put it simply, i don’t agree but i don’t entirely disagree. she didn’t really put in her worldview here but gave both groups the benefit of the doubt. but i have personal experiences that make it hard for me to be impartial and to give benefit of the doubt in such a way.

i’m sure that not every single submissive involved in BDSM is a victim of abuse, but i recall reading findings that showed that the overwhelming majority are. and from my personal experience, again, the overwhelming majority are victims of abuse. i was a victim of abuse when my interest in it began and when i became involved in that subculture. it’s really rare to find a female submissive who didn’t face abuse, to the point where i personally might’ve come across one at most despite being involved in that stuff & being in such circles for long enough.

in the early/mid-2010s BDSM was being heavily promoted and made more mainstream. rape cases were being dismissed at this point as just “very kinky sex”. this was a defence actual rapists have used. there was this whole image of “consent is important!!” in BDSM circles, but in practice? doms very often didnt follow the rules of BDSM that they’d promote. and sometimes those rules were used to justify violating someone. “well, she didn’t say the safe word, she said stop! so i didn’t stop bc she should say the safe word” for example. you can even find evidence of doms getting giddy over this online.

many ppl dismiss this phenomena with the idea that to truly partake in BDSM u need certain training and whatever else and the abusers that can be very easily found in BDSM aren’t “real doms” bc they don’t follow the rules. this idea that the abusers just didn’t count bc “REAL bdsm involves consent and xyz rules” was used to dismiss every former female sub who would discuss how BDSM was used as a guise to abuse her. of course, when you dismiss every victim as not really victimised by someone partaking in BDSM, you can argue that BDSM has nothing to do with abuse.

there was also a common push directed at rape & abuse victims, telling us that BDSM & CNC are good healthy ways to work thru our trauma, and somehow healing to victims of abuse &/or rape. i was one of those victims who genuinely believed that i was somehow healing myself by letting someone abuse me, despite experiencing constant obvious signs that i did not want it and trying to exit that lifestyle. i genuinely believed that my distress at what was being done to me was just bc of my trauma and if i just do it enough times, i’ll be desensitised to it and get better. it never happened btw, my trauma just worsened and i still have nightmares about my involvement with that stuff a decade later.

to say it didn’t help is an understatement.

the whole thing frankly only normalised abuse to me. i would be crying and distraught and hurting myself and attempting suicide, yet i was so convinced of BDSM being a good thing that i wasn’t even acknowledging the clear pattern of me engaging in these practices and my self-harm and self-hatred and lack of self-respect worsening. i already had skewed ideas of consent and that movement only skewed it further. everything wrong with me & my pain was simply further exacerbated, instead of being healed. it’s like i was being raped and abused over and over and over again. i was miserable. i felt like i couldn’t even say no anyways bc i was subject to certain rules bc i was fully immersed in this “lifestyle” and i thought that if i say yes, then i’m not going to experience rape again, but if i say no, then that creates the chance of me facing rape again. BDSM didn’t help me combat any of my skewed thinking, it only helped me dismiss it and helped the dom abuse me guilt-free. it was additionally traumatic bc this was all occurring within a coerced relationship that i felt trapped in & forced into.

so someone could argue that that was all not a real experience with BDSM. but that experience was what made me see issue with the whole thing, bc i felt like i was less than garbage for getting raped and thought having boundaries is just a way of ensuring i get raped & that i deserve to be hurt. whereas on the other side the dom got off on my pain and having control & power over me. this is not a fair or equal situation with two equal participants. it’s an abused girl trying to overcome abuse in a twisted way and an abuser who gets off on abusing an abused girl & gets off on the thought of me being dead. and i know i’m not the only person who experienced something like this when involved in BDSM. i know theres so many stories like mine.

so let’s say that didn’t count. but several years later, i entered a relationship w a woman who worked as a professionals dominatrix. i was very openly critical of BDSM at that point and she said that she’s only working as a dominatrix because she needs to, to get money to survive with. i didn’t want her involved in that stuff, but also i respected that i cant force her to leave until she’s ready to. anyways, she was a proud sadist (red flag) and had frequent violent outbursts. she enjoyed the moments where she could take her aggression out on her male clients. she had been abused by men in the past and i guess in that scenario, she felt she was finally the one in power. but she didn’t just physically abuse those men. she’d abuse me too. she would try to push me into being involved with this dom stuff, pressuring me to be involved in these “scenes” and pretending she was financially desperate, basically that if i don’t help her then i’m kinda just leaving her to suffer financially. she would randomly choke me or randomly bite me or would randomly lash out at me etc. we weren’t even officially involved with BDSM within our relationship. it didn’t traumatise me in the same way bc i actually wanted to be with her, & i have been able to tolerate physical abuse since childhood, but i cant say it didn’t traumatise me at all how she would verbally & psychologically abuse me. and knowing of some of those sub men she’d have as clients only made me hate the whole thing more. seeing how the BDSM stuff allowed an obvious abuser like her to treat her sadism as a subject of pride only made me more strongly against BDSM.

so… all i can say is that from my own personal experience, doms do tend to be abusers. and i as a former sub was abused by two different self-proclaimed doms. they weren’t these trained professionals, they were just people who got off on hurting other people and turned to BDSM to validate that. and when ur in that situation, it just allows u to justify and validate their abuse and to blame urself for their abuse. it just makes it easier for them to hurt u. so sure.. maybe not everyone in bdsm is an abuse or rape victim, maybe not everyone is an abuser or rapist.. but the whole thing definitely helps abusers & rapists have their way and gives them a nice selection of willing victims.

and i don’t think it’s safe or healthy to enforce the association between pain & sexual desire or to normalise it, for anyone. i don’t think it helps actually curb violent tendencies, i don’t think it helps curb the desire to experience pain or helps heal trauma or anything of the sort. i think partaking in it will only cause mental damage to both parties with one party being even more psychologically harmed bc of how traumatic it is to be abused in sexual contexts that u agreed to. i cant even explain how it feels to feel like u allowed someone to abuse u severely and can’t even blame anyone else for it. i don’t think i’m the only person who got involved in BDSM when in a state of learned helplessness due to trauma. and i know for a fact i’m not the only girl who got involved in BDSM as a child bc i had an entire circle of these friends that were also teen girls & buying into the BDSM nonsense back then. and the whole cycle of causing u emotional and physical torment and then showering u with love & affection when ur in “sub space” is just what abuse victims face all the time in cases of domestic abuse. my dominatrix ex would do exactly that all the time. it felt like i was sometimes with a complete monster and sometimes with a sweet loving woman. it allowed me to justify her actions as not “really her”. subs frequently discuss what is basically dissociation and trauma responses, and then “treating” those symptoms via love bombing from their dom (“aftercare”). look at how pro-BDSM sites put it:

this is literally describing how abuse feels. it’s describing how dissociation feels, and how it feels to no longer dissociate after facing abuse. then they describe lovebombing:

u can get an idea of what submissives are told and how the lifestyle in itself encourages u to just.. let the dom do whatever and give up what u actually want bc ur dom “knows better” somehow:

this is a long answer and got quite personal but.. to summarise… i just don’t agree. i don’t think there’s any actual merit to BDSM. obviously i’m biased by my own experiences and i can already imagine how my experiences can be dismissed but.. i don’t think i can be convinced otherwise after what i’ve experienced. i hold the beliefs i do BECAUSE i listened to the BDSM circles and saw the logic within them.

#wow this was v long but idk how to shorten it

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