#so it genuinely didn't occur to me that I might be able to look it up.

[inkskinned]

okay if you're really cool about things, i can be honest with you. before you read further, decide if you're a girl's girl. if you're cool and actually cool or like not cool.

men don't talk in my book because i was fuckken tired of the way they're the center of every fucking story. i was tired of how every story takes a moment to let them talk. men can shut up for literally one fucking book.

unfortunately not everyone is cool. professionally what i usually say is i didn't want to add violence to the world. the only men in my book are abusers, so they don't get to talk. they don't get to take up space. they ruined my life, they don't get to have their words echo anymore.

because like, yeah! you find practically any story about a person surviving trauma and... there's a man at the center. men are often rescuing us from these things. a "good man" is always standing around, being a good man, proving to the victim that good men are the real men. that her experience was unique rather than universal.

the redacted text has not been taken well by all of my early readers. there is this weird, crouching growl that keeps occurring with men-of-a-certain-age. why don't we hear his side of the story?

when i sat down to write everything that happened to me, i couldn't look at the frank brutality of my abuser's words on a page and think to myself: i actually let him speak like that. i had to redact his words from the manuscript. i then left it redacted. no victim is going to read this book and hear the person who hurt them. it is a book for the victims to speak. abusers shut up challenge, forever. for eternity.

my father once told me, chuckling, i should just have a page of redaction where i let the man just finally talk. it is funny to joke about how we should make a whole page in my book about a man that hurt me. this was not the only time someone commented - it feels like you're hiding things. how do i know you're actually a victim if he doesn't get to speak?

there are books where women aren't even present. i even genuinely like some of those books. like, who doesn't like the hobbit?

i keep running into people defending this imaginary man. the default narrative is so true to some people that they will defend any man, just by virtue of the assumption - "if he's acting like that, you had to push him." certain people need definitive proof that you didn't accidentally make your partner into an abuser. they need to decide if you deserved it, because they want to be able to judge you.

which makes sense, i guess, from a hind brain perspective. if you can figure out "why" someone was cruel, you can protect yourself against it. if you defend the bully, the bully might side with you. i don't really know their explanation for feeling this about a character in a book. trust me, i wrote the guy. he is not going to protect you.

i guess i just - there was a time in my life where i desperately wanted anyone to defend me. where i could have really used someone saying holy shit are you okay instead of what did you say to make him act like that to you.

instead, over dinner, a friend-of-a-friend i just met is pouring herself wine. i heard you wrote a book, she says. she gives me the kind of chilly smile i associate with knives. i heard it's unfair to men.

#the author is nonbinary. don't get fucking weird. #btw if ur a woman and u do this u go to advanced special hell. like if u defend ab*sers at all #u dont get to pretend ur protected from being misogynistic. ur not. we all have internal work. #writeblr #i can't write lately wtf

[hellyeahsickaf]

The way addicts and chronically ill people are dehumanized is so exhausting

The normalization of this shit in medical and casual settings is genuinely mind boggling. Addicts and disabled people go through so much bullshit. I've dealt with many fucked up doctors when I just needed help

I had a kidney infection, some months back. This is always extremely medically urgent, and I was likely only hours from sepsis. I went to the hospital reporting my pain to be a 9/10. 9 because my 10 was gallstones. I experienced severe malpractice at the hospital and the doctor reported exams that never occured and false information while making me wait with nothing more than tylenol to hold me over (didn't touch the pain) and bring my fever down but that's a whole other story

They did however, deny me the pain medication I needed until it was time to go home. I'm deathly allergic to NSAIDS, but that's something an addict might say so they witheld pain relief because they'd rather me suffer just in case I'm a different kind of sick. An entire night, maybe 6 hours in the ER and they couldn't give me anything, not a small dose of morphine or one norco even a few hours prior to take the edge off of the pain while I was curled up shaking and crying. Just in case I was an addict looking for my fix, and my suffering was just withdrawals and good acting. In that case maybe I deserved it and should be denied my humanity. God forbid in that case I'm so desperate to alleviate unbearable withdrawals that I spend all night in the ER crying. Not the first time I've experienced red tape just to get relief from excruciating pain

But whatever. As per protocol I was asked to follow up with my pcp. So a few days later I called to set an appointment, but I'd also run out of norco and desperate to relieve the pain I asked if I could be filled even enough for a few days, until the pain was bearable. I had difficulty walking, laying down, and I again, can't take most pain relievers. The receptionist was nice and understanding, actually got me in touch with the doctor because she wanted me to be able to get my refill. Probably heard the pain in my voice even. She believed me

She transfers me over to the doctor and I tell him I'd like a follow up and ask if he could fill my painkillers. I would've acceped a no from him, I just needed my follow up. He asked about my condition, I told him my diagnosis and how much pain I was in

And he laughed.

Got a real hoot out of it, like he had me all figured out. Like he caught me trying to cheat the system. I must be trying to get high or make some money with a few days worth of norco as i'm nearly in tears from the pain even while calling

He tells me through his laughter "I don't prescribe painkillers for 'kidney infections'" saying it with a mocking emphasis on those words, as if I'd said "stubbed toe". Follows with "Yeah haha, bye." and hangs up on me. No follow up like I called for. Needless to say I no longer have a pcp but truly if he thought I was an addict trying to take advantage of him he should have still treated me professionally. Maybe not cackled when I said my pain was excruciating for a start

I just don't understand why the hell so many doctors can be so apathetic to people's suffering. Addicts deserve better and so do disabled people- whether you think they're addicts or not. The assumption that we're lying, trying to trick them and are feigning pain to do it is disgusting, listening to your patients is so important. And if that were the case they could have some sympathy and ask themselves what it would take for someone to go those lengths, take such drastic measures and go through that trouble to obtain those substances.

Addiction is not a moral failing. Many disabled and chronically ill people unfortunately rely on medications that have addictive properties. About 80% of heroin addicts first misused prescription drugs. However only about 4-6% of those addicted to prescription drugs switch to things like heroin. And instead of help or compassion for people who just need help (addicts or not), they just figure we're one in the same and treat us like subhuman degenerates, leeches on society. And I think people need to change how they view addiction. Doctors need to change how they view addiction

#cfs #chronic pain #chronic fаtiguе ѕуndrоmе #chronic illness #fibromyalgia #disability #actually disabled #spoonie #me/cfs #cfs/me #ableism #ableism tw #medical ableism #addiction #ok to reblog #medical stuff #tw drugs

[pathetic-sapphic]

May we *please* have Viktor and an s/o being protective of each other?Perhaps both are outsiders in piltover...i just want to see Viktor having someone being devoted and respectful to his efforts and to *him* and protective of him when people dare disregard him,and perhaps,him doing the same for his s/o in his own way

Protective Viktor with a Protective S/O

Being a Zaunite working and living in Piltover certainly meant that, with time, Viktor had to learn how to be able to defend himself and build up his confidence. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere if he let himself be insulted by the scrutiny and scorn that he was exposed to on the daily.

So he managed to build himself up and worked on achieving his goals with determination, always being on his own and knowing that he was the only one who could keep himself safe.

Even when Jayce and he became business partners, Viktor seldom relied on him, still so used to being on his own and being independent. He didn't need anyone's help or someone who would protect him, he refused to reach out to others lest they would start pitying him. And pity, along with ignorance, is the one thing that Viktor cannot stand.

When the two of you started dating, Viktor didn't expect for that to change. It wasn't until an incident occurred, that your respect and loyalty to him became crystal clear.

You were waiting for Viktor on a bench outside of the Academy, it was your one-year anniversary and the two of you arranged a lovely dinner date. You were so excited, Viktor was a wonderful partner and you felt so lucky to be by his side, you wouldn't give up what the two of you had for anything.

As you were daydreaming about how your date might go, you failed to notice one of Viktor's colleagues from the Academy approaching you until he got close and greeted you. He started asking about your relationship with Viktor, as he saw the two of you together often and you couldn't help but notice that the man seemed genuinely insulted when you revealed that you're Viktor's partner.

''Hmm, somehow I doubt that a lowly, Undercity scum like him could find himself in a romantic relationship with someone as lovely as you.'', the man mocked, so absorbed in his snobbiness that he didn't even notice the anger that radiated off of you, continuing,'' Someone like you deserves a real man, one who could spoil you with riches, someone like me. What do you say you ditch that filth and go out with me instead?''

It's safe to say that you were besotted with anger. How could such a horrible and disgusting person say something so awful about the love of your life? Not wasting a second, you decided to make your intentions clear to the man.

''Why would I ever waste my time with someone so self-absorbed and so far up his own ass when I have an amazing and loving boyfriend waiting for me? The only scum I see here is you and if I hear you say one more bad word about Viktor, you'll find yourself as a lab rat for his next experiment, understood?'', you angrily threatened him, your frown turning into a smug smirk when the man hastily apologized and left.

Little did you know, Viktor was hiding at the entrance of the Academy, as he was just exiting when the man approached you. It's safe to say that he was extremely shocked and touched by your reaction. Of course, he wasn't bothered by what that man said, Viktor knew his worth and he always trusted you to be loyal to him. But knowing that he finally has someone who will defend him and be protective of his reputation and image makes his heart race.

He approaches you from behind, sweeping you into his arms and tearily uttering thank you's as he lays kisses upon your cheeks. You hug him back, promising to always protect him from whoever wishes any harm upon him.

The same goes the other way around. Viktor never had anyone he cared for so much so he was very protective over you. Although he was an extremely kind man, he could get very defensive if anyone even looked at you the wrong way.

God forbid anyone ever makes you cry, Viktor hates seeing you so hurt and sad. He won't get violent, but his scathing words can sometimes hurt worse than a punch. After he deals with the idiot who dared to insult you, Viktor devotes his time and effort to making you feel better.

If you ever get hurt or feel insecure, he is at your side immediately. He takes excellent care of you, always being so careful and reassuring. Viktor is so gentle towards you, treating you as if you're made out of glass.

You two are a team, you take care of each other to the best of your abilities and are willing to stand by one another's side to the ends of the world.

#arcane #arcane headcanons #arcane x reader #arcane viktor #viktor x reader

[lorcandidlucienwill]

“I risked my neck for you during your task. Was that not enough?” His metal eye whirred softly. “You offered up your name for me—after all that I said to you, all I did, you still offered up your name. Didn’t you realize I would help you after that? Oath or no oath?”

I really don't think everyone understands how significant a moment this was for the Feyre-Lucien relationship. Even if I don't agree with this take, there is an argument to be made that everything Lucien did for Feyre before was only for Tamlin. But the moment Feyre offered her name in exchange for his life? Lucien's loyalty wasn't just to Tamlin anymore; it was to her. That means saying, "TO YOUR LEFT!" taking the whipping, coming back to see how she's doing, all that? That was for Feyre, not Tamlin. This applies in ACOMAF too. Why do you think he told Feyre not to ask him to pick? Because his loyalty is to both now. Him pleading with Tamlin to let her train? For her. Him hiding the engagement ring? For her. Him seeking a way out of the Night Court bargain? For her. All of it. Him trying to bring her back from Night? FOR HER. Y'all forget nobody is supposed to know that the Night Court is not really "evil." “I did it for you, too, you know.” Cold, hard words. “I went with him to get you back.” Why do people ignore this and act like Lucien only cares about Tamlin? Bull fucking shit. He didn't TRUST Feyre in ACOWAR because he's smart and he knew she was up to something. Miss girl thought she was such a great actor but Lucien saw right through it.💀 And yeah OF COURSE Lucien was worried about Elain in ACOWAR. She's...his mate???? Y'all be fr and stop taking everything Feyre says at face value. “And that’s why you’re here. Not because it’s right and he’s always been wrong, but just so you can get what you think you’re owed.” Y'all think that Feyre is spitting facts or whatever? Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe...she's an unreliable narrator? Lucien has never ONCE acted entitled to her and SJM made sure to have Lucien call out Feyre for being a hypocrite.

“You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned? Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply for fear of what it might do to her?”

And how did Feyre reply? “You would have been fine.” Were it not for Ianthe, a problem Feyre exasperated by her own admission, Ianthe wouldn't have even been a problem. She'd backed off of Lucien. I had done my job too well, provoked her jealousy too much with every instance I’d found ways to get Lucien to touch me in her presence, in Tamlin’s presence.

Using a victim like this is disgusting. DISGUSTING. The only thing Feyre ever did for Lucien and it was a problem that she caused in the first place. Oh yeah and then you take Lucien's words for fact too: “You are a better friend to me, Feyre,” he said quietly, “than I ever was to you.”

Yeah...fucking bullshit. Generally I'd call Lucien the most reliable narrator considering he's the smartest, but recalling this when Feyre went into his mind? Thoughts slammed into me, images and memories, a pattern of thinking and feeling that was old, and clever, and sad, so endlessly sad and guilt-ridden, hopeless—

I'd just say it's guilt that he wasn't able to do more talking. But he did everything he could without literally dying for Feyre. Or did you forget this? I didn’t want to know what was happening in that room, what he’d done to Lucien, what Lucien had even looked like to cause that pulse of power.

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #anti feyre archeron

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART 47: MAX

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Lots of Angst, Age Gap, Teacher x Student, Extreme Smut

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

The following day, you woke up to the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air and, as soon as you walked out of the bedroom, you saw Cillian standing by the kitchen counter, meticulously preparing breakfast. His attention to detail never ceases to amaze you; it's one of many things that attracted you to him initially.

"Good morning sleeping beauty!" he greeted you cheerfully, flashing a radiant smile your direction. 

"Morning, gorgeous!" you smiled in response as Cillian's eyes gleamed brightly, reflecting the genuine fondness he harbored for you.

You reciprocated his greeting with equal enthusiasm, basking in the warm glow of his affectionate disposition.

"Sleep well?" he queried, placing a soft boiled egg on your plate before setting down a set of cutlery adjacent to it.

"Like a log," you chimed, gratefully accepting the sumptuous meal awaiting consumption.

"Good, because we have a big day ahead of us," Cillian remarked, pouring a tall glass of orange juice to accompany your breakfast.

"Oh yeah? Care to elaborate?" you prodded and, much to your surprise, Cillian had already arranged to view at least three properties that afternoon.

"I called my buyer's agent this morning and he found a few suitable properties for us to look at today," Cillian revealed, demonstrating his commitment to ensuring you both have a comfortable home for your new family.

"That sounds great, but I didn't expect this to happen so fast. Shouldn't we wait a little longer?" you pondered aloud, furrowing your eyebrows. 

"You are pregnant, so there is no reason to delay us moving to a bigger place, right? We should make preparations sooner rather than later," Cillian argued logically, seeing that you had already agreed to move in with him two weeks ago, as part of the visa process. 

"Alright, alright," you acquiesced reluctantly, conceding to his persuasive reasoning before indulging on your breakfast. 

With each bite, the realization of impending parenthood sunk deeper into your consciousness and, slowly, but surely, you became anxious again. 

Pregnancy wasn't merely about the physical transformation occurring within your body; it was a mental, emotional, and psychological journey as well. What sort of mom would you be? Would you be able to provide a stable environment for your child? How would you manage your career aspirations simultaneously? So many questions, so few answers.

Seeing your distress, Cillian attempted to comfort you, squeezing your hand lightly under the table. "Hey, everything's gonna be fine, remember? We're doing this together," he reminded you, a concerned expression marring his otherwise jovial demeanor.

"I know, but I never expected to be in this situation. My mother gave me up when we came to America and I wonder what it will be like for me to have my own child. I might not know what to do or maybe I won't cope," you admitted honestly, staring blankly at the empty plate in front of you.

The thought of becoming a mother, particularly when you hadn't experienced it firsthand, frightened you somewhat. But, at the same time, you couldn't deny the overwhelming longing inside you, eager to nurture and care for your offspring.

Gently, Cillian brushed your hair aside, exposing your neck. Leaning forward, he placed a soft kiss on your pulse point, whispering sweet words of encouragement into your ear.

"You'll be perfect, Y/N. You will be a wonderful mother," he assured you, his tone soothing and comforting.

The warmth of his breath against your skin relaxed you somewhat, alleviating some of the pressure mounting within. You exhaled deeply, surrendering to the safety offered by his unwavering support.

"Thank you," you whispered sincerely, your grip tightened around his hand.

"For what?" Cillian questioned, genuinely curious about the source of gratitude emanating from you.

"For believing in me," you clarified, smiling weakly just as Nina barged through the front door along with Danielle, startling you both. 

"They got Kit! They arrested her!" Nina exclaimed excitedly, rushing towards Cillian with her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

"Where?" Cillian asked eagerly, jumping up from his seat and snatching the phone away from Nina. He scanned the screen quickly and saw a message from the Gardai officer who was in charge of the investigation against her.

The message itself was vague but stated that she was arrested in Galway and will now be charged with assault against Nina. 

Cillian read the message over and over again, disbelief evident on his face while you ran your hand over Nina's shoulder to comfort her. 

"Are you okay?" you asked her quietly, your tone laced with concern. Nina nodded, unable to form coherent words for several seconds.

"I'm glad that she's behind bars," Nina managed after regaining composure. "She deserves everything coming for her."

Danielle stepped forward, her gaze fixated on Cillian. "What happens now?" she enquired, her voice trembling slightly. "With the press I mean," she continued, and Cillian hesitated before replying cautiously.

"I don't know yet," he said. He looked thoughtful for a moment, his forehead creasing slightly. Finally, he turned to Nina. "Have you told anyone about the incident?" he then went on to ask and Nina shook her head, avoiding eye contact, embarrassed by the memories resurfacing.

"We'll deal with it when the time comes," Cillian interjected, taking notice of Nina's discomfort. He closed his eyes briefly, collecting his thoughts.

"With your upcoming press engagements in the US, this could turn into a shitshow," Danielle pointed out, voicing fears that lingered in Cillian's mind. However, the question remained whether any information about Kit assaulting Nina had leaked to the media.

"Maybe we shouldn't press charges," Danielle suggested tentatively, meeting disapproving looks from everyone present.

"No. If I don't stand up for myself and others involved, people like Kit will continue victimizing others," Nina spoke up bravely, addressing her mother directly. "Despite, the public needs to know the kind of person she really is after what she did to dad," Nina went on to say, causing Cillian to shake his head.

"Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I can handle the press, but I want to keep you out of it. You should press charges against Kit, but you should not talk to the press about it, alright?" Cillian insisted, placing a protective hand on Nina's shoulder.

"But then people won't know the whole truth," Nina protested, fidgeting uncomfortably under his touch.

"Unfortunately, sometimes that's exactly how it works, but it doesn't matter. I don't care about what people have to say about me and neither should you," Cillian sighed heavily, attempting to alleviate the burden weighing down on Nina's shoulders.

Nina gazed at her father intently, absorbing every word he spoke. She paused momentarily before mustering resolve. "Okay, I understand," she said, managing a weak smile while Danielle pursed her lips carefully, mulling over the implications of such a decision.

"I will take Nina to the station then," Danielle announced resolutely, gathering her belongings before telling you both that it would probably be better for Nina to stay with her for the next two weeks in case the press gets wind of this, which was something Cillian agreed with.

Cillian himself had to travel for work in the coming days, promoting his movie Oppenheimer which was scheduled for release in less than two weeks and, whilst you had hoped for Nina to keep you company at Cillian's apartment for an entire week during which he was gone, you understood why it would be better for Nina to be with her mother during this time. 

Unfortunately for you, you could not come with Cillian to his premieres as your immigration status made it impossible for you to leave Ireland while a new visa was being processed.

As much as you wanted to be by your partner's side, supporting him during these crucial events, you had to settle for staying put in Dublin and watching the live streamings online instead.

Luckily, you had plenty on your plate to occupy your mind and spirit, especially after receiving some unexpected news from the doctor earlier that week and, with that in mind, after you went shopping for real estate later that day, you also went shopping for a qualified and experienced obstetrician.  After all, you wanted nothing less than the best for your baby and, considering Cillian's status, getting an appointment was not exactly difficult. 

Thus, the following day, you made your way to meet Dr. O'Reilly, the highly recommended obstetrician known for providing exceptional prenatal care.

***

Your heartbeat quickened as you neared the imposing building housing the clinic, apprehension knotting your gut.

"You're going to be fine!" you murmured inwardly, willing yourself to believe those reassuring words.

Finally, you summoned strength, pushed open the heavy doors leading into the reception area with Cillian in tow. 

The space brimmed with women at different stages of pregnancy, accompanied by partners or friends offering moral support.

Despite the crowd, a sense of camaraderie permeated the atmosphere, fostering feelings of unity among mothers-to-be.

"My nerves are shot," you confided nervously into Cillian's ear as you both sat down in the waiting room. 

He grasped your hand reassuringly, his thumb rubbing circles on your knuckles.

"Take a deep breath," Cillian replied calmly, peering downwards at your belly which had not grown yet, although he begged to differ. "You're doing brilliantly," he then reassured you and you swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to focus on anything but the agonizing minutes passing by.

Eventually, you were both called into the consultation room where you met Dr. O'Reilly, a distinguished woman with graying hair and an empathetic gaze.

Her presence immediately instilled confidence in you, prompting you to relax marginally.

You exchanged pleasantries before settling down for the examination portion of the visit.

Dr. O'Reilly handled the encounter professionally and attentively, discussing your medical history and asking relevant questions concerning your pregnancy which, unsurprisingly, she categorized as high risk. 

"Now, I can see that you work as a dancer for play at the Abbey Theatre, correct?" she enquired politely, referring to the information you provided beforehand.

"Yeah, I perform four nights per week," you confirmed, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, feeling self-conscious.

"Well, you need to cease your employment immediately then, I am afraid," Dr. O'Reilly informed you bluntly, observing your reaction closely.

She noticed your sudden intake of breath and added sympathetically, "I understand it may seem drastic, but the demands of dancing coupled with the stress of advanced training will jeopardize your health and the wellbeing of your unborn child. Your pregnancy is high risk due to the surgeries you have had earlier this year and, quite frankly, I am surprised that you fell pregnant in the first place," the doctor informed you. 

"Wait," you objected, raising his hands defensively. "Couldn't we get more tests done, or consult with a second physician? Surely there has to be a solution that allows me to continue working?" you asked, but Dr. O'Reilly shook her head decisively, unmoved by your pleading while Cillian stiffened visibly beside you, clearly perturbed by the unexpected development.

"There isn't. In fact, continuing with your dance routine increases the chances of miscarriage dramatically," Dr. O'Reilly explained patiently, scrutinizing your face for signs of comprehension.

"But what about modifications? Can't I adapt my routines somehow?" you persisted stubbornly, reluctant to relinquish your performing ambitions without a fight. You knew that the consequences of disobeying the doctor's orders would likely result in serious repercussions for both you and your growing fetus. Yet, the prospect of abandoning the stage filled you with dread.

"Y/N, listen," Cillian interrupted gently, reading your restlessness. "It's only for nine months and you can take it back up afterwards. I will stay home with the baby if you want me to so that you can go back to work," Cillian offered generously, trying to ease your worries.

However, the idea of putting your entire career on hold was unthinkable, especially since you were gaining traction in the entertainment industry.

"Cillian, I appreciate your offer, but I don't want to abandon my dreams so easily. There must be another way," you implored earnestly, gripping his arm tightly.

"Y/N, you know there isn't," Cillian responded firmly but compassionately and, immediately, you stared down at your stomach, caressing it tenderly. Inside, your tiny bundle of cells grew stronger, unaware of the challenges lying ahead. As painful as it was, you knew that giving up dancing meant embracing a future beyond the lights and applause. 

"Now, do you want to see your baby?" Dr. O'Reilly prompted kindly, sensing your inner turmoil.

Cillian reached out and squeezed your hand encouragingly, spurring you to nod affirmatively.

With a gentle push, Dr. O'Reilly guided you onto the exam table, positioning the ultrasound machine above your abdomen.

"Here we go," she hummed happily, applying gel onto the transducer probe before sliding it across your tummy.

The grainy image appeared on the monitor, showcasing the dark void of the abdominal cavity and the vivid outline of your uterine wall.

You watched curiously as Dr. O'Reilly maneuvered the wand effortlessly, adjusting the angle until a black orb emerged from the shadows.

"This is your yolk sac," she introduced, pointing to the circular structure nestled amid swirling patterns resembling a cosmic landscape. It seemed almost unreal to contemplate the existence of another human thriving beneath your skin.

"And here," Dr. O'Reilly indicated proudly, directing your attention toward a tiny blob illuminated by a brilliant light.

"Your embryo!" she exclaimed excitedly, tracing the silhouette with her index finger before turning on the sound of the machine. 

A steady thump echoed throughout the room, mimicking the rhythmic cadence of life itself.

"That's your baby's heartbeat!" Dr. O'Reilly declared joyously, sharing a knowing glance with Cillian as you pressed your palm against the monitor, marveling at the miracle unfolding before your very eyes.

"Is it too early to determine the sex?" Cillian ventured delicately, a hint of curiosity sparking in his eyes.

"Yes, it is still too early to tell. We shall try our luck at the twenty-week scan though," Dr. O'Reilly affirmed with a warm smile, adjusting the dials once more.

You listened keenly to the amplified heartbeat reverberating through the speakers, savoring the precious moments spent admiring the magic hidden within your womb.

You glanced sideways at Cillian, whose eyes mirrored a profound blend of awe and tenderness. His fingers intertwined with yours, strengthening the invisible bonds forming between you and your child.

"I can't believe that we are actually going to be parents" Cillian whispered, his voice hushed reverentially.

"Me neither," you nodded, swallowing hard as tears welled up in your eyes. This was real—a living, breathing entity connected to you in ways you could never have imagined.

"I love you," you breathed out to Cillian softly, patting your abdomen lovingly.

"I love you too," Cillian murmured back, running his fingers across your lower back. The pair of you were lost in a world of happiness mixed with fear and uncertainty about the future. It was a delicate balance that required constant nurturing.

***

In the days that followed, Cillian encouraged you to step away from dancing and focus on yourself and the baby before heading to London to promote his new movie. 

By that time, you had found a house, one you both liked and, instead of working, you made plans to design and decorate the classical home which you both fell in love with.

After all, the property needed some renovation before you could even think about moving in but that suited you just fine. Not only could you use your creative skills to make the house feel like your own, but you could also fill the time until the baby arrived with meaningful activities.

To begin the project, you searched Pinterest for inspiration and then spammed Cillian with photos while he was away. You had ideas for the living space and a nursery already and, whilst Cillian wanted to replace the dated kitchen, you did not consider this to be necessary.  

Instead, you planned to bring in rustic wood countertops, reclaimed barnwood accents, and farmhouse sink, blending old-world charm with modern functionality.

Every morning, you woke up early enough to grab your laptop and sit on the floor, sketching ideas and brainstorming potential designs while Cillian was busy doing interviews. 

Sometimes, you would send him a photo of your sketches and, surprisingly, he would reply promptly with his opinions and suggestions before, one day, at around 4 o'clock, just as you were chatting with Cillian over the phone about plans for a nursery, his son Max arrived unexpectedly, barging through the door.

Having just turned 17, Max usually did his own thing and, since he moved in with his grandmother in Cork a few months ago to attend a special music school there, you had not seen him. 

"Max," you gasped in surprise, jumping up from the cushions you had spread out on the carpet, wondering how much he had heard about your conversation.

"You are fucking pregnant?" Max blurted out as you hung up on his father. He stood motionless in the doorway, eyes glued to the spot where you had been sitting only moments before. "Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. 

"Uhm...listen...it's still early and we wanted to wait to..." you stammered, flustered by his abrupt arrival and wondered what he thought of this unexpected news?

"You really played that well, didn't you," Max interrupted your sentence harshly, taking a few steps further into the room, and narrowing his eyes suspiciously. 

"Played what well, Max?" you asked, confused by his outburst. "None of this was planned," you went on to say before being cut off again. 

"Yeah, right," Max scoffed, shaking his head skeptically. "And now you are all set up, aren't you? A nice house, not having to work and, maybe, when he can finally divorce mum, he might even marry you. Well played," he said sarcastically, casting doubt on your sincerity.

"I swear to God, Max, I..." you began to hastily defend yourself, startled by his allegations and wondering whether he thought that you were simply after his father's status and wealth.

"I can promise you that things aren't like that," you then told him but were interrupted once more. 

"Oh, sure," Max retorted dismissively, rolling his eyes skeptically. 

"Where is dad anyway? I need to see him because I cannot live with grandma anymore. She is too fucking strict," 

Max whined, shuffling closer to you with his guitar case hanging low from his shoulder.

"So, you came to Dublin alone? What about your classes?" you asked, wondering if he missed them or skipped out entirely. "Does your nan know that you are here?" you also wanted to know, hoping that she would not be worried about him. 

"Fuck classes and fuck her," Max snapped impatiently, striding past you towards the fridge, opening it and grabbing a cold drink. He gulped loudly, leaving half of it in the bottle before slamming it on the counter.

"What's wrong with your classes?" you pressed, concerned that he might lose valuable opportunities.

"What do you care? You aren't my mother," Max retorted sharply, scrunching up his nose in disgust. "Despite, I am not going to take advise from someone who is barely older than me," he challenged, shooting you a bitter look.

"Max, I'm sorry, but you need to be reasonable here...." you started, searching for the right words in response to his accusations. 

"I need to reasonable? Me? Fucking reasonable?" Max chuckled. "You are 23. You are pregnant with my dad's kid after a couple of months? He is 47 for Christ's sake," Max spat out venomously, slinging words full of anger at you like stones hurled from a catapult.

"Max, please, calm down..." you pleaded, desperate to break through his defensive shell, but he wouldn't have a bar of it. 

"Just shut up, alright?" Max grumbled gruffly, turning his back in defiance, by which point you had enough. 

"Look, I don't know what your problem is, but you've got it all wrong," you seethed, jabbing a finger in his direction. "This was not part of some master plan, okay? I fell in love with your dad, plain and simple, and suddenly we ended up pregnant. That's it!" you shouted, waving your arms wildly for emphasis. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, threatening to burst free as anxiety consumed you. You feared that he wouldn't buy your explanation and would label you a gold digger or opportunist.

"I swear, Max, I genuinely love your dad," you tried to convince him, holding your breath, praying that he would trust you before suggesting driving him to his mother's house.

"I am not going to her house. If you don't want to be in the same room with me, then you leave. This is my apartment," Max huffed, swinging around to face you, jaw clenched tight and it was at this point that you couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what Max? I can't do this right now," you spat out, turning abruptly and storming towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" Max demanded, snapping at your heels like a pack of wolves cornering their prey.

"I'm leaving, just like you asked" you growled defiantly, struggling to maintain composure before grabbing your belonging and barging out through the front door.

Tags:

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction

[gyuluttony]

So, that Ateez feederism bug has certainly taken root and I couldn't tell you why exactly. (It's because I finally am getting a feel for how many people like it as much as I do 👀)

And with that being said, I want to write about another one of my ults, being San... it's not going to have a fixed pair... but that doesn't mean he can't play around hehe

Better

This is a feederism fic and features weight gain, weight gain denial, breaking of clothes, and smut. Don't like, don't read.

Finishing his set in the gym, the sound of the weights clanging on the machine as it settles. He's panting as he looks at himself in the mirror. He's come a long way since he started working out. He remembers the first time that he set foot in the gym and how just about everything intimidated him. Flexing his figure, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as a result of just how far he's come. It wasn't something that he achieved overnight after all. Lots of effort had to be made to get his body to the level that it was currently at.

While he washed up, some things came to mind. Like there were people who might have struggled with the idea of going to the gym for the first time and plenty of questions that they had. As he lathered up his firm pecs and broad shoulders, it was properly occurring to him that he had a rather amazing set up. The gym was owned by his friend, Yeosang, which meant it would be fairly easy to set up a camera and record beginner guides to helping out those who needed the advice. While he rinsed off, his mind was already buzzing with ideas as to what he'd need to mention with Yeosang if he wanted to get the go-ahead on this idea.

In his mind, as long as he delivered his advice to a level that was befitting of the audience, it shouldn't be too hard to get the information out to everyone who needed it. He arrived at his apartment as he announced, "I have the best idea ever."

Wooyoung had flopped his head over on the couch to look at him, an eyebrow raised curiously while Seonghwa paused the game that he was playing to look at him. "Oh, how was the gym, Sannie?"

He simply gave a thumbs up before he sat on the coffee table in front of them to look at them eye to eye, almost like he needed to be at that level to brace them before his idea properly blew them away. "You're not ready for this."

Seonghwa kept his encouraging smile on his face while Wooyoung looked at him, a little exasperated, "What is it? You've hyped it up but haven't said it yet."

San paused for dramatic effect for a moment before he stated, "I'm gonna start a channel to promote fitness for first timers because they don't know what they're doing and Yeosang already gave me the go ahead."

There was a pause in the air before Wooyoung just sighed as Seonghwa politely began to play his game again, ready to listen as background noise, almost like his interest had pulled away.

"What?" San looked genuinely puzzled as to why the attention had waned.

"No offense, San, but I think I've seen about a thousand channels like that where they all advertise their advice. It's just oversaturated and almost everyone does it." Wooyoung rips the bandaid off rather easily and it's hard not to deflate a little.

He pouted rather easily, "It's a great idea! I didn't get like this without knowing my way around the gym so I think I'm pretty trustworthy!" The way that he flexes while having a cute expression flusters both of his roommates as Wooyoung openly gawks the muscles on display while Seonghwa pays closer attention to the game that's on the screen before pausing it when San seems to wait for them to comment again.

"Wooyoung does have a point, Sannie." It's hard not to coo at the sight of San being more pouty than expected as his plans are stepped on but Seonghwa continues, "But, I think you'd be able to carve a niche as you are. You do a pretty good job of that." He can't help but smile as he blushes at the kind words of the older one at that.

A pat on the shoulder comes from Wooyoung, "If you need someone to film, I'll be happy to help. I feel like you'd be bad at setting up shots." He raises a fist, threatening to hit his friend before muttering that he'd appreciate the help.

After a little bit more planning, the first video goes without a hitch and he can't help but feel a pit in his stomach as he watches the video process before it slowly uploads on their shared Internet. Both Wooyoung and Seonghwa are in the room as moral support when it finally finishes and he can't help but stew.

A couple of minutes go by and San whines, "I really put a lot of time into this introduction! Even Hongjoong helped me with editing everything in a nice way!" The video looked rather professional and not amateur at all thanks to the older man's touch that San promised to repay him for at dinner one day.

Wooyoung patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, "You can't expect everything on day one, San. It'll take some time." He left him in the room with Seonghwa who seemed to smile encouragingly, "Yeah, it already has about fifteen views now so that's more than just our friend group. Give it some time to settle!"

Even if he was going to heed their advice, it didn't mean he wasn't going to bed sulking... but when he woke up that morning, the fact that his phone was warm and currently buzzing with notifications was a cause for alarm. Looking at it in shock, all of his friends were sending him various links of different edits of him in the video that went viral.

He knew that he looked good but seeing people editing him to shreds while basically making thirst traps of what he had said was incredibly kind to his ego. He felt himself blush while reading the various comments that were left. Was there such a thing as digital footprint with what some of these people were saying? Either way, it didn't take long for his channel to blow up and thanks to his work with Hongjoong, he didn't need to completely rely on him for editing and knew how to do it for himself.

Everything was panning out. He received sponsorship and just about everything under the sun that came with being a successful content creator and it wasn't hard at all for him to stick out in the crowd. A few lingering shots on his body here and there and it would inspire someone to make another edit that would go viral. Even if a lot of people weren't there for advice, it was the views and fans that made him go viral which he vastly appreciated.

Before long, brands were starting to sponsor him. Athleisure clothing brands, various different services and he took a good majority of them. San hadn't had this much money forever even working full time. But, then, he received his largest sponsorship deal yet. It was a formal process. Signing with Fever Supplements, he would have an exclusive deal that would pay more than enough for him to cover his rent on his apartment alone for each month.

All he had to do was take their products and be causal about mentioning it. And considering he was already in the stage to start taking protein again to bulk for the winter, it wouldn't be hard. Plus, their pre workout had tasted amazing from his experience.

At the stage that he was at, he was starting to workout with guests because he knew that the edits seemed to get a lot more traction when one of his friends was in the gym with him. So far, Jongho, Mingi and Yunho had accompanied him before. Today, Mingi had come with him.

Watching San shake his drink shaker made him raise an eyebrow curiously, "What's that? It looks different than what you usually drink." The camera wasn't recording while they were still in the middle of warming up. San liked to record during stretches so that they could have more to capture. Mingi raised an eyebrow as San offered it.

Watching him take a sip and recoil, Mingi looked at the drink in surprise, "Woah... that's really sweet. Are you sure it's pre?" San shrugged, "It says it's pre workout on the container and I think it's their new flavour. It's pretty good though. It's been energizing me for a couple of weeks now before my workouts." Mingi looked at it rather suspiciously before he added, "Damn, I can see why. It wakes you up."

They usually assist each other in stretching and when it comes time to work with each other, San feels his waist intruded on by Mingi, large hands resting on his sides and for some reason, sinking in slightly as San yelps. "Isn't it early for bulking season?" Mingi snickers as San raises a fist, "Like you're one to talk." He pokes Mingi's softened middle who covers his stomach shyly before they continue.

It makes a sort of tension that persists through the video as San noticed how his friend had put on. It's not like he put that much on though. The fabric of his shirt was clinging to him but that's how most compression shirts fit. On Mingi, it was bulging a little at the stomach and he couldn't help but find himself staring.

While they were in the shower, Mingi's voice was clear through the constant stream of water, "Uh, San. Would you be able to hook me up with some of that pre? It really worked and I just had a sip." Blinking a couple of times in surprise, he looked at Mingi, "Really? All you had was a sip." Mingi shrugged nonchalantly before he added, "That's the best I've worked out in a while... but I still have some energy. How about you?"

The words hung in the air for a moment, the tension only growing more intense before San added, "Yeah. I could do some more." He wandered over to the other man before he saw the way that he moved his neck downward and pressed their lips together. Naked bodies were pressed into each other as the water continued to clean them of everything but their desires.

The perks of the semi-private gym were making their way to the surface now as they stroked each other. Doing anything else was a little riskier even if they knew they had the space to themselves because the staff needed to clean soon for the actual hours of the place. What San was noticing was the fact that Mingi's stomach which had been flat the last time he appeared in a video seemed to protrude and inflate when he breathed out in pleasure at San's touch that was threatening to make him come undone. Had he put on weight since then? Maybe his next video needed to be something about weight loss. But, his thoughts were wiped clean as Mingi moved down and began to suck him off. Clutching the railing, his fingers curled in his friend's hair while he made sure to show attention to just about every inch of his length. As much as Mingi ran his mouth, he always knew how to use it just as well which is why they hooked up as often as they did.

As they both helped each other wipe off the mess after experiencing a release, San's stomach growled. "Damn, you're that hungry?" Mingi slaps his friend on the ass, who yelps before he says, "If you want, we can grab some food with Yunho. He wanted to eat with me today anyways."

Another thing that he didn't realize following his sponsorship with Fever was the fact that he was hungry a lot more often. He didn't really notice it because most of the time, he did his own meal prep. But, San seemed blissfully unaware of how the portions of these preps had slowly been increasing everytime. Where it used to be properly be one portion, it was getting to the point where he would eat portions of three for just about every meal.

Whenever he ate out with friends, it was more absurd that he ever would have noticed. Yunho had noticed that Mingi was eating a fair bit as well but San's order nearly filled up the table. He looked curiously as the two stuffed their faces with everything that was bought. "Good workout?"

The pair nodded before going back to stuffing their faces as Yunho watched, feeling his face heat up as he watched Mingi beside him belch before he continued to eat his own food.

From this point forward, just about all of his friends were noticing the amount that San was eating as he continued to increase the portion sizes slowly but surely. Seonghwa noted that he was cooking just about every other second when he was at home and the planned meals were filling the fridge. Wooyoung had tried some of the protein shake that he mixed but felt full a quarter of the way through while San had started to drink two per day. Mingi was starting to become a regular on the channel and those little meals where they would spend nearly two hours eating were becoming a near daily occurrence that San could afford with no difficulty thanks to his income.

However, the strangest part to just about everyone that knew San was the fact that he didn't even notice what all this food was doing to his body. He was under the impression that with Fever Supplements, he was going to bulk. But, following the winter, what he hadn't done was bulk. He had grown beyond the word bulking.

What Mingi was after the influence that San had on him was chubby and even that was being nice. He was definitely lingering closer to fat these days. But San? San had gotten properly fat and was starting to border on obese.

Gone were the broad and defined shoulders that he had launched the channel with as they were replaced with rolls on his back and flabby moobs that were starting to hang with how much fat that they had blown up with. His stomach protruded out so far and his roommates could hardly believe he poured himself into skin tight clothes without breaking them.

Although, Seonghwa remembers one day where he had checked in on San because he had stated that he was going out to eat with Mingi, not even going to the gym this time. Wandering in his room after hearing some noises, Seonghwa gaped at the sight. San was hopping and just that alone was shaking the floor as the massive amount of fat he put on was jiggling as he tried to get himself into a pair of jeans that didn't even make it halfway up his thighs.

San turned his head, panting as Seonghwa noticed more closely that even his jawline that was sharp had blurred and was even starting to develop a double chin just naturally. He couldn't figure out why it was exciting him to this degree. "Ah... hyung, perfect. Can... you help me close these? I think I bulked up too much."

Seonghwa felt a shiver run down his spine as he moved to San. Placing his fingers on the sides of the pants, he gulped feeling his hands press into the soft cellulite on his thighs. Pulling it up was a lot of effort and even more difficult at the fact that San didn't realize how much he was jiggling at just about every desperate movement. They managed to make it up to where they should rest but were presented with the next problem.

The button.

Now, Seonghwa was seriously going to overload at the feeling of his knuckles pressing into the underbelly of San's fat gut while he tried to make the two ends reach. He had tried lying down and sucking in. "Is it easier now?" He wheezed out the question while Seonghwa was praying for how aroused this was making him. His hands brushed San's crotch a couple of times and he heard a couple of whimpers from his fat roommate before he made his advances less coy, placing a hand on the area. It had gotten fatter too given how he knew San's length was a lot more plentiful the last time they hooked up.

San mewled in pleasure when Seonghwa's hand slipped into his pants, starting to please him before he realized that with just about every pump that caused San to move his hips, his gut would move too and make it more difficult to stroke him between the pressure of the tight underwear and his belly moving into his erection. San was losing himself to the pleasure of the feeling but still so horribly unaware of the point that he's blown up to.

They continue on before San releases, soiling his underwear as they both try to catch their breath. The last thing Seonghwa says before he leaves was that he should just wear something comfortable if he's going to out to eat with Mingi.

He does listen and when Seonghwa leaves the room, he's pulled into Wooyoung's room. On his computer screen, he sees orders for clothes identical to what San has in his wardrobe, just to replace everything with proper size ups. Seonghwa can't help but blush when Wooyoung reveals that this isn't the first time that he's done this before but he has San's card and he's gotten enough funding to the point he can pay it off without glancing at what's being bought.

It became an experiment basically. Just how massive could San get without noticing just how much these supplements were doing. Yunho had looked at the label and saw appetite stimulant and bulking formula on just about every product and weight gain enhancers in nearly everything that San mixed into his drinks. Mingi had grown at a slower pace but because he was with San so often, the damage had been done to the other gym goer as well.

The thirst edits of San hadn't changed. In fact, they had only steamrolled alongside his weight. Now, instead of focusing on his muscles, they focused on how strong his arms still were while they jiggled with fat when in between sets. How his belly spilled out of various workout shirts and how plump his ass was when he turned around while doing something. The fans were just about as ravenous as the one they were making these edits for and he didn't pay it any mind because it was still about his body.

In his eyes, he just viewed it as light pudge... even if he was getting to the point where his fattened form was knocking things over with either his belly or ass whenever he was at home.

He had reached a large milestone after almost a year. Over five million subscribers to the channel. In this time, he put on more than double his weight and didn't even bat an eye to the changes, which is still what shocked the other men the most. Didn't even think about how he couldn't fit in booths at restaurants or how difficult it was to do his stretches with Mingi when they were both of massive proportions. Their shower room hook ups had gotten a lot less subtle with all the bulk and San being teased about how much he had put on.

But, that wasn't the focus. He was finally treating Hongjoong to a meal that he promised. He had started to do a lot of the editing himself, so in the groove that he didn't even bat an eye at the way his sides were pressed against the arm rests of his desk chair most of the time. The editing style was retained and Hongjoong was rather proud of the younger man.

He hadn't expected the shorter man to choose an all you can eat restaurant as their destination. "Ah, hyung~ If you eat here, you'll get bigger~" San teased rather easily as Hongjoong's eyes scanned the massive man as if he could talk. He wasn't the slimmest person, carrying a small belly but it's not like he had grown to the size that Mingi had gotten to and San was an entirely different beast. He heard from the rest of their friends that he was unaware but he didn't think it was this crazy.

The two sat down at the booth as Hongjoong said, "Sannie, just let me grab what you want. You might be treating me today, but we're celebrating you too! You're probably the most popular fitness creator out there." It took a lot to not laugh at the sight when he said that. The most popular fitness creator being the largest person in the room, who's gut was pressing into the table and even resting on it where it protruded.

San smiled, "If that's what you say, hyung. I'll be sure to eat well." He had no doubts that the younger had been doing that for months at this point but today would be a proper test. Plate after plate was brought to the growing influencer as he stuffed his face just as well as he promised.

The clothes that his roommates bought for him could only do so well after the third upsize and around the seventh plate, San felt a relief in pressure as his gut expanded and pushed the table off balance for a moment. Hongjoong grabbed it in a panic as he heard the button rattling on the floor.

San looked flustered as he finally took in his body and how everything had settled on him. This wasn't just winter weight. In fact, it was the middle of the next fall. He had gotten so fat that he had broke his clothes. His fattened hands found his gut as he rubbed it, a small groan leaving him as he belched loudly, feeling his face flush from the people around staring at the gluttonous display he had put on.

He squirmed in his seat as he realized his ass needed two chairs to properly rest in them. Looking at Hongjoong who was equally as flustered by the sight, San whined, "Hyung, can we go to your place? I didn't mean to make a mess like this..." There was embarrassment bubbling up in his tone but all of his friends knew that was something that he enjoyed. He just didn't ever expect it to be in this way.

Even in Hongjoong's car, he was more aware of how it dipped and groaned when he sat in it, his belly filling up the space between him and the dashboard as he tried to relieve the pressure that had built up within it. Once they arrived at Hongjoong's apartment, Hongjoong pressed against him into the wall as San groaned while a burp bubbled up. "Oh, Sannie. How did you just realize this now?"

San felt his face flush while Hongjoong's hands explored his ample body, squeezing his moobs and getting a whimper from the younger. "You keep working out but when you're stuffing your face like that everyday, it's just barely keeping you strong." He still had muscles but the chub all over his body was more overwhelming than anything else. Each inch that Hongjoong pinched was a reminder of how he had let the supplement properly take effect and blow him up.

"I still am strong... I thought it was just bulking and-" He groaned when he felt Hongjoong's hands cup his ass and lift it, feeling the heft to him while he relished in the feeling. "This is more than bulking, Sannie. You're fat."

Hearing it plainly made a shiver run down his spine. Was that why he was having so much trouble to do certain things? Was that why people were referring to him as big guy? Was that why when Wooyoung rode him the other week, he only got his hands on his belly and he couldn't even see his own dick when looked down?

Hongjoong squeezed his crotch as they moved to his room, a mix of fat, desire, and pleasure to describe their bodies while they made out. A couple of times where Hongjoong leaned on his gut and got a burp out of the younger to his embarrassment before they continued, stripping each ill fitting layer away from San before he ended up with his ass pointed and his gut pressed into the mattress.

It oozed in just about every direction as Hongjoong inserted a finger, prepping San to take him. He had gotten so massive that Hongjoong, even with his chubby form, felt so much smaller. He was feeling his thighs mashing his fat pad into his underbelly as he rocked back and forth with Hongjoong's preparation of him.

He moaned when feeling Hongjoong enter him, his small belly resting on San's overly softened back as he pumped back and forth, sending ripples into his overfed body. San might have had all these fitness sponsorships but he had grown to a size where he was getting off better from his body humping his fat than properly being fucked and it was only skyrocketing his enjoyment.

It didn't take long for him to finish with how much his dick pressed into his underbelly as he released with a shout and panting to catch his breath while Hongjoong thrusted deep into him, clutching him by the love handles to get a better grip and reached his own ending soon after.

San lied down, flopping onto his back, watching his belly expand and eliminate the view of anything past it feeling himself grow harder again. Hongjoong admired the sight while he lied down next to him, rubbing his belly to help the younger digest after both the food and the pleasure that had just run through him.

A single question filled the air.

"Hyung, what if I put on weight intentionally?"

Insatiable for more was a good way to describe him but he liked himself getting this fat... and it would only get better if he did it on purpose.

#kpop feederism #atz feederism #gyuluttonous behaviour #chubby san #weight gain fiction

[starstruckserenity]

you're so sweet😭 so what i was thinking was a scenario where kokichi is being his usual self but he goes too far and s/o is just finally done with it. how would he react to reader leaving him for good?

ooooh~ how angsty!! now, i have never written angst without any comfort. but it does seem like such an interesting concept, so i gave it my best shot!! just a heads up, kokichi does get a little mean in this, so just a fair warning for those who might need it! thank you SO much for requesting!! i hope you have a great day!! 💞 *internal fanboying*

The day should have started out as any normal day would. You would have woken up, spruced yourself up a bit until you felt you looked --- at the very least --- decent, and waited by the door for Kokichi to bust his way through it. It was a routine, at this point, so you paid no mind to his intrusions.

But today, he hadn't even graced you with the chance to get dressed properly. It was about 5 or so in the morning, and you hadn't slept a wink due to your... situation. How could anyone be able to sleep through a literal killing game, for fucks sake? You groaned and struggled to get out of bed. Your feet dragged behind you as you wobbled your way to the bathroom sink, clutching it with both hands to support yourself.

"Hey, heyyyyy! Hellooooo!?" He yelled out as he made his way through your dorm and into the bathroom, where you had been brushing your teeth. You spat out the remnants of your toothpaste and swiveled your body around to face him. He watched as you did so, taking note of how wild your hair looked from the tossing and turning you did all night.

"Jeez, you look like shit! What, did you not get enough beauty sleep? It sure as hell looks like it." He cackled out loud, putting a finger to his lips in amusement as he watched you frown. "You look horrible. It's hilarious."

Oh. So it was one of those days.

One of the days where Kokichi would torment you for his entertainment, ratting you out for his own enjoyment. And, as of recent, these days would come along more often than not. Because of this, you couldn't lie and say that you didn't dread waking up and seeing his perfect-ly punchable face, while also collectively being bombarded with insults left and right.

It could be your the way your hair looked, the way you dressed, the way you spoke, the way you walked... Kokichi would poke fun at you for it. It seemed like Kokichi thought you were disgusting, and he was never afraid to point out that fact.

And as you walked out of your dorm room with him, he babbled on and on about nonsense. You were simply too tired to entertain his words or even listen to him. All you had in mind was making it to the dining hall so you could meet up with the others.

"Hey, asshole, are you even listening to me? I was, like, saying something suuuper important just now!" He forcefully snapped you out of your trance, waving a hand in front of your eyes. "You never listen... You're so fuckin' stupid..." You could hear him mutter under his breath as he crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.

"Weeeeell, as I was saaayinggg!" He uncrossed his arms and put them behind his head as he walked. This was your cue to space out again as you pushed the dining hall doors open. Your glazed eyes trailed over the tables and people, and you spotted Shuichi reading a book, hunched over in his seat. You felt your heart skip a beat, as you actually had the possibility of having a genuine conversation. Shuichi had been someone you could trust, someone you could lean on ever since this whole... thing... had occurred. He was a friend to you. He was gentle, polite, kind-hearted...

...The exact opposite of Kokichi. And as he went away to feed himself, you jumped at the opportunity to speak to Shuichi.

As you walked over to him, he smiled curtly and gave you a little wave. "Hey, Y/n. How are you?" You grinned as he asked. You felt almost giddy that someone finally wanted to know how you were doing. You sat down in the seat closest to him, scooting forward.

"Well... I'm not doing the best right now. But I don't think any of us are..." You laid your hands down on the table.

Shuichi's smile turned a bit sour. "Ah, yeah... that's completely understandable. Do you need to talk, or anything? Um, I know it's not much, but I'm here for you..." He mumbled softly as he touched your back, attempting to reassure you.

The safety you had felt quickly cancelled out as you felt Kokichi storm behind you, quickly turning your chair around to face him with a more-than-unpleasant expression.

"...What the hell do you think you're doing? I thought you were going to follow me." Kokichi narrowed his eyes and grit his teeth as he practically spat out his words. "And why are you talking to him, of all people?" He cocked his head around slowly to glare at a frightened and confused Shuichi, who awkwardly adverted his gaze from the two of you. Kokichi looked almost disheveled as he leaned in front of you.

"Saihara. This bitch is mine." He trailed a finger slowly from your cheek to your neck. Your mind turned hazy. "No one could ever want them, apart from me." He cracked a grin. You felt your heart breaking down. "You're stuck with me. Nobody could ever treat you as well as I do."

...What? What?

You erupted up from your seat and grabbed him by the scarf. Your mind was racing and it felt like you were on fire. Your body was hot. You were so, so fucking pissed and so, SO fucking done.

"You think you're treating me "well"?! You can't be serious. I've never felt so HATED by someone in my life! I don't even know why I EVER thought it would be a good idea to love you. I...I don't know why I even wasted my time, attempting to reason with you! You're hopeless, so goddamn hopeless!" Your grip on him tightened as you shook with rage. Your eyes were blown wide as tears dripped down your cheeks and your knees felt heavy as you pressed yourself against him. It would have been a romantic gesture if you were dealing with someone, anyone else.

"And you know what? I'm done." Your voice broke released him and watched him fall to the cold ground. His expression was absolutely unreadable. You looked at Shuichi one last time, who was frozen in shock, as you stepped away from the scene. Ouma lifted his head and stared ahead as you raced out of the door.

He just let you. He watched you move away from him, he let you break apart. His heart throbbed in his chest as his nails scraped against the floor. He knew in the back of his mind he was hopeless, and he got lost in the rush of faking the words he said to you. He knew this was all his fault. It was, in the only way he could describe it, inevitable.

As Shuichi chased after you, Kokichi stayed down. And he wouldn't get back up on his feet for a long, long time.

#danganronpa x reader #kokichi x reader

[thatgirl4815]

Gloomy ramble ahead, sorry! The only thing giving me hope right now is that in literally the first millisecond of the extended ep 8 preview, when Ray asks if they can still be friends, he really doesn't look happy. It's not being played as a 'come on now, let's all get along' moment, he doesn't look flippant or sulky or whiny - he looks desperate. I think strangely enough what's got me most down about the Ray/Mew development is that it makes Boston appear to be right about Ray's motivations in ep 6, and yet I genuinely don't think that's why Ray told Mew about the cheating, and I still believe Ray was being honest when he said he didn't expect to get anything out of it, and that in that moment he really was removing himself from the whole equation. So in that respect it feels like a massive step backwards (though I do understand the view that for Ray/Sand to ultimately pan out, this is something that needs to happen, otherwise the spectre of Mew and what ifs would always loom over them). And as much as everyone talks about Ray not sparing Sand a moment's thought as soon as Mew opens up, it's equally true that when Ray is spending time with Sand, he doesn't appear to be giving Mew a moment's thought either, until he's forcibly reminded of him (ending of eps 3 and 5). So is he just super good at compartmentalising? Does he just grab onto any affection offered to him at any given moment? I think the cutting/editing of scenes is making me feel more wary about the outcome than I otherwise would be because I'm feeling acutely conscious of how many eps are left and how much (or little) screentime Sand/Ray (and Sand on his own) have had of late, and I very much DO want them to have a happy (or at least open but pointing that way) ending, and a LOT needs to happen (Ray getting over Mew, Sand's ex, Ray realising how he feels bout Sand and making up for his behaviour, Ray accepting he has a substance abuse problem and wanting (and hopefully getting) help for it) before that can be a possibility, and with the screentime ratio the way it has been, at this rate I don't see how they could fit it all in in a satisfactory manner. But I still want to believe! I'm still holding out for a finale timeskip wherein Sand picks Ray up from rehab and whisks him off to Chiang Mai so the series can end with them sipping non-alcoholic beverages beneath the stars!

I am clinging desperately to the hope that Sand and Ray will be together happily in the end. I do remember one interview/livestream (?) where Khaotung mentioned that everyone will come to terms with their true feelings. So that alone is giving me hope, and I'm going to choose to believe that's in relation to Ray's feelings for Sand.

About Boston seemingly being proven right...I agree with you that I don't think Ray was telling Mew the truth because he thought it would increase his chances of being with Mew (I'm sure that occurred to him, but I don't think it was his primary motivator). Tbh, I think Ray would have survived in the friendzone with Mew, and I think he'd even started to resign himself to it, until Mew opened up that possibility. That's the most important thing in my mind: Mew is the one who brought up the state of their relationship, not Ray. Ray wasn't going to push it until Mew gave him the opportunity to ask if they could be something more.

Another thing giving me hope is as you mentioned; we've seen this dynamic play out pretty often. It's certainly not ideal, but if Ray wasn't in a relationship with Mew at any point, I truly don't think he would ever be able to move on from him. He might come close, but there would always be a part of him harboring that unrequited crush, wondering what could've been. It's interesting to me also that Ray's crush seems to go back to Mew 'saving his life,' when in fact Sand has also saved his life on multiple occasions (different situations, but the effect is similar). I do understand that the situation with Mew 2 years ago lingers with Ray so much because in it, Ray seemed to be making the conscious deciding to end his own life.

And yeah, Ray doesn't look pleased in the Ep8 preview. Not at all. Which begs the question: If Ray really was so head-over-heels for Mew, why would he care who Sand is involved with? I think his possessiveness is about more than just egotism.

I do think Ray is so desperate for affection that it made it easy for him to develop feelings for Sand. But I also don't think that is the only reason why he appears to be all-in on Sand whenever they're alone together. It's a catalyst for those feelings to develop, but I don't think it tells the full story (or at least, I'd like to hope it doesn't).

Finally, this ep seemed most focused on Mew's revenge plot, which might mean that the next ep will be devoted to the other characters. Again, I'm just clinging onto what Khao said about the characters working through their feelings. (But if they do not go to Chiang Mai together in the end, that will be a giant missed opportunity imo haha.)

#Five more eps I have faith they will be able to hash things out #Prayer circle activated #only friends #only friends ask #only friends the series #ofts #sandray #raysand #sanray #raysan #raymew #ask #firstkhaotung #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #only friends meta #only friends episode 7 #only friends theories #only friends predictions

[ghost-of-a-system]

sorry if this is kind of crossing a line, but how do you guys deal with thinking you're faking? ive been having more issues with it recently and its affecting my system,, i dont mean to but its an unfortunately common intrusive thought

no worries, it's definitely a common thought a lot of systems seem to get from time to time (at least from what we've seen)! i know we have, though for us it was usually less of an "i'm faking", and more of an "i'm gaslighting myself into thinking i have this, by acknowledging symptoms". we mostly got these thoughts in the first year or so of for-sure knowing about our system. while we met the criteria and general experiences of someone who has OSDD1, we found ourselves obsessively comparing our system to others we'd see online, or others that we knew. we saw systems who had things like inner worlds or extreme differences in skills & knowledge per alter. things that aren't specifically required to be one, but seemed so awfully common that we just thought they were unspoken guidelines we were missing. so, we were afraid we were "faking".

i don't know how much this can apply to others, but we can remember a good deal of indicators about having OSDD1 when we were younger, especially from the ages of 11-15 or so. (mainly, dissociative episodes, the presence of potential alters.) we obviously didn't know what it was then, nor did we really think it too out of the ordinary. but they were things that we were able to start connecting the dots with the more we learned about systems and ourselves later on.

looking back, our concerns kind of fizzled out with the more dots we connected. kinda hard to be gaslighting yourself into symptoms you don't even know are symptoms, right? the fact that we experienced these things for a long time prior to even learning about OSDD1 was usually enough to help us. but i can understand if it might not be safe for others to try to delve into their pasts like that. isn't really for me to say or speak much on.

this may also not apply to many others, but here's another way. ever since creating this account, actually, we've started to stop holding ourselves to these ridiculous standards in order to be a "normal system". we're learning to respect ourselves for the way we are, and we have noticed that since then, our life has gotten, clearer, almost? whereas before, i think our anxiety and paranoia about the way we functioned clouded a lot of our symptoms. we were always over-analyzing and overthinking everything, so much so that nothing felt genuine. and, like i stated at the beginning... basically all of our concerns over faking stemmed from comparing ourselves to others, personally.

i don't know if that makes sense, but we just stopped caring so much and acknowledged our symptoms as more of a passing thought rather than one we need to grab and study as soon as it occurs. i'm not too sure of the correlation, but i think our experiences/symptoms just. stopped feeling like something we were 'secretly, actively inducing', if that makes it any clearer? and, these things were happening on their own, and to degrees that simply could not be explained by anything other than OSDD1 or something similar. it's really hard to put into words so i'm sorry if that makes zero sense hah, but that's just what we've done. we haven't really had such thoughts ever since.

-skye

#ghost of a sys asks

[amethystina]

I just saw this on X (formerly known as twitter) and I immediately thought of you. And I don't know why I had the urge to send it to you, so here it is.

It describes perfectly how I feel about your writing. I usually don't read ongoing fics, but if I find one really intresting I read the first chapter to have a better understanding of it and save it for when it is finished. But with 'Who holds the devil', I felt like I couldn't stop reading. Like I physically couldn't stop reading, and it was all due to your writing. Everything you write about, every detail, every emotion, and every expression is written in the most unique and intresting way I have ever read.

The reason I sometimes prefer reading over watching things is because I have the ability to imagine what I am reading and emmerse myself completly in it when the writing is done well. And you don't just do it well, you do it INCREDIBLE.

In my personal experience, you are the first writer with which I like the long descriptions of things. Because when I read them, nothing feels too long or too much, it just feels perfect for the storytelling. And I only realise that there were a lot of words written after the fact, because everything just sails smoothly.

I don't know why I had the urge to send you this 😅, and I hope I didn't overwhelm you with my unstructured oversharing on here. But I just wanted to say, you are incredible and I hope you stay healthy and happy in the future (even if you suddenly decide to stop writing this fic, there is no pressure as you have already given us a lot).

Take care 💜

I am a little overwhelmed, not going to lie, but in a good way? In that way where I don't really know how to respond because I'm feeling so many things right now, but all of them good.

I've said it before but it will never not blow my mind when I hear just how much my writing seems to affect people. Because it doesn't feel all that glamorous to me, you know? When I'm sitting there, frowning at my document, trying to figure out what word goes where. Or when I'm trying to find the right rhythm and cadence to the sentences, and capture the right emotions and imagery to tell the story I can see playing out inside my head.

But I am, of course, incredibly flattered and also very proud to know that I can have such an impact. I started writing fanfics on a whim — because I wanted to write at least one before I died — and the art of writing (or whatever you want to call it) wasn't even something I reflected on at the time. Well, tbh, I can't say that I do that all that much now, either — I just write what I think sounds nice xD

Point being, even if I've always put a lot of effort into my writing, it never really occurred to me that I might end up being genuinely good at it. That felt like such an unobtainable goal that I never even considered it. And it's been pretty disorienting to be told that I am (but, again, in a good way).

Especially since I go against a lot of the common writing advice that you see floating around. I write a lot of words — some that are definitely not needed. I use adverbs, adjectives, and whatever the heck I want. I often do a lot of telling instead of showing. I repeat things and spell things out for the readers in a way that good writers shouldn't. I do a lot of hand-holding with my readers, taking them through every step of the character's thought process and reactions. I write detailed descriptions of what the characters are feeling instead of only showing it through their actions. The list goes on.

Like, if you look at what the writing advice says, I should be a terrible writer xD

But I'm glad that I'm not. I'm glad that I can write things that move people and that the stories I tell feel that engaging. And I love being able to share them and spread the joy. It's such a wonderful feeling to know that I've made a difference somehow, however small it may be.

So thank you so, so much for your kind words. Which feels wholly inadequate to convey just how grateful I am that you took the time to write and send this, but trust me when I say that it means a lot to me. I never thought I'd reach this point, with people reaching out to me just to tell me how much they love my writing. How wonderful is that? It leaves me utterly speechless sometimes.

How is this my life?

And so far I have no plans to stop writing Who Holds the Devil, don't worry. I can't promise it'll happen quickly what with everything that's going on in my life right now (like being officially diagnosed with burnout due to long Covid — yay me) but I'm way, way too stubborn to give up. And I also love the fic and the characters too much to stop xD I want to see this through to the end just as much as the rest of you.

So yeah. Thank you again for sending this — it made my day. And you take care, too 💜

#Amethystina Replies #sharpeyedeagle #Who Holds the Devil #I'm not joking when I say that I sat staring at this ask for several minutes after I got it #But in a good way #Because man #It truly blows my mind #I did that? #I made you feel that way? #That's amazing #I can barely wrap my head around it #Especially the long descriptions thing #Like #That's so obviously something that should make my writing worse if you listen to any kind of writing advice #Long isn't necessarily better #But it's also one of the things I get the most compliments on #That the amount f details help my readers feel closer to the characters #But it shouldn't actually work #And I have no idea why it does xD

[intersex-support]

Is there any resources on people with PCOS who go on T? I’m extremely worried and have not in any of the decade+ I’ve looked, been able to find anything on the changes regarding bottom growth, sexual stimulation, or even logistics, for people with PCOS or people with other intersex conditions who experience bottom growth. Trauma has prevented me from exploring what little answers i could get regarding logistics by viewing porn, and even then, it doesn’t even begin to explain a lot of the answers I need.

Touching my clitoris/proto penis/however to describe it causes me intense searing nerve pain throughout my body and genitals, and I’m seriously concerned that bottom growth and nerve cluster changes on T, one of the only irreversible changes it has, will prevent me from being able to go on T.

I genuinely don’t know what to do. My genitalia has given me dysphoria all my life, and despite how extremely uncomfortable and visceral my reaction is to getting vaginally penetrated, it’s currently the only way I can feel any kind of pleasure or have sex involving penetration with my partner (i cannot do anal). I’m seriously worried that something that isn’t even guaranteed to grow enough to be usable differently in any way (bottom growth), is going to cause me so much pain that I have to stop and cope for the rest of my life with what irreversible changes occurred, and I cannot afford to waste money or negatively impact other health conditions with body/mental/endocrine system stress and any negative/compounded impact to my other disability’s neuropathy symptoms.

Thank you so much.

Hi, Anon.

This sounds like it's been a really difficult decision to consider, and with all the reasons you've listed out, it makes so much sense to me that you might be feeling conflicted about what you want to do, concerned about the pain, and I really empathize with not even being able to access resources that could help you untangle some of this. You're definitely not alone in this, and I wish there was more easily accessible information so that we as intersex people could feel supported in our desires for our bodies.

One really good resource that I've found is a doctor who did an interview talking all about hormone management when it comes to PCOS in the trans patients she sees. She explains that almost all people with PCOS can go on testosterone, and that it doesn't significantly raise the risk of complications associated with PCOS, but might change some of the monitoring that doctors would want to do. This interview is a really good overview of what medical transition and PCOS might look like, and how other treatments for PCOS might interact with that.

This study shows that testosterone HRT is not likely to significantly affect the metabolic complications of PCOS beyond what is already naturally occurring due to PCOS.

This study is long and not super relevant, but does show that within the study groups they were focusing on, the percentages of trans patients on testosterone HRT with PCOS ranged from 5%-58% of the study groups, which shows us that there are regularly people with PCOS taking testosterone without major health complications.

I'm not as familiar with how testosterone HRT affects the clitoral nerves, and I was also having a hard time finding resources that felt relevant for how going on T would affect sensation, pain, and overall experience during sex.

I want to give a content warning for a little more in depth discussion of genitalia and clitoral sensation.

So although I don't have any formal resources, I'm a trans person on T who had hyperandrogenism and clitoromegaly before going on T, and I asked around the other intersex people who I know that are on T and in similiar situations. One thing that we've noticed is that compared to our endosex (not intersex) friends, we've experienced a lot less overall change in terms of bottom growth. Some of us didn't experience bottom growth at all, some of us experienced slight changes in bottom growth, and some of us experienced more significant growth, but still less then the endosex people we know. Some of us have hypothesized that this might be because our body already has already done a lot of the clitoral growing and either hit or gotten very near to sort of the "maximum" clitoral size for our body, so going on T didn't affect it as much. Again, this is all anecdotal and there hasn't been any research done on this, but this is something that multiple intersex people I know have experienced.

In terms of sensation, we all had very different experiences. Some of my intersex friends experienced no changes in sensation, some people felt like it was more sensitive, some people felt like it became less sensitive. Many of us already experienced a lot of pain during sex, and testosterone didn't necessarily change that experience for all of us. Again, take all this info with a grain of salt, since it's kind of just crowdsourced info from the couple dozen intersex people I know. One thing we've also noticed is that our experiences with T tend to be on a different timeline than a lot of endosex people's timelines, and some changes are very dramatic, while others are not noticeable. For instance, quite a few of us had our voice drop very quickly, but we didn't experience much change in body hair, since we already had a lot of body hair. Overall, I think it's really going to depend on each individual person's experience, but it can be good to be aware that things you see online about the timeline of changes on T might not be relevant if you're intersex.

I wish I had better advice or resources to give you, anon--but truthfully there just isn't that much out there for us. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how much information or certainty you would be able to find about sensation and pain--it can be really hard to predict the individual effects of T on our bodies, even if we can see what the general trends are like. It might be worth trying to look for a doctor who specializes in HRT and is also aware of intersex variations, like the doctor listed in the article. In fact, it might be worth writing an email and trying to contact that doctor with your specific questions, or ask if she can refer you to other providers that she thinks will be aware and competent. You will always be the expert on what decisions make the most sense for your body, and I really hope that you're able to get connected to someone who can give you the information you need to be able to make the best decision for you. Sending solidarity and love your way, anon.

-Mod E

#actuallyintersex #intersex #hrt #testosterone #genitalia mention #genitalia talk tw #<- tag to block if you don't want to see discussions such as these! #trans #pcos #followers in similiar situations feel free to add on

[vickyvicarious]

I think the letter DID look sus to some olden readers too, given how the "Hawkins" in Nosferatu deliberately sends "Jonathan" to become prey for his own gain. So it's another interpretation to me :p

Though canonically I think Mr Hawkins cared about Jonathan but, like you said, he was likely very much an employer and not openly fatherly. Jonathan's reaction to the praise indeed seems like he doesn't get it that often. Mina did say that Mr Hawkins only treated Jonathan like a son now at the end of his life. And neither of them expected to be in his will! And Jonathan at the hospital "writes" very professionally to him (pretty much "I apologize for the delay, however, I got the job done"). But despite that, Jonathan was attached to him emotionally (see his "second father" when he is sure he's going to die).

(sorry I tapped send before I could clarify that the first paragraph refers to Nosferatu!)

Oh yeah, it's definitely possible to read Hawkins' letter as ominous/sketchy. I just am really attached to Hawkins' and Jonathan's relationship, so it doesn't occur to me to go there unless I try. But it's not a giant leap to make based off this letter! I am not familiar with Nosferatu myself (or more film adaptations actually) but I think there's a lot to play with in making this relationship too more using Jonathan.

Anyways, back to Hawkins and Harker... I agree with you. I think they both put on a professional attitude with one another and it really was only internally that they expressed how much they actually cared. So Jonathan isn't used to seeing much praise from Hawkins, and would never think to ask for it/initiate emotional exchanges, but he has worked decently closely with him for a while. I feel like even with Mina he might not say anything about just how much care he has for Mr. Hawkins outside of "he's a very good boss and I admire him a lot," because I think even expressing such a feeling one-sidedly and in private would feel like he is overstepping. (But I imagine she'd still be able to tell based on how he talks about him/how proud he gets when Mr. Hawkins entrusts him with a new responsibility or whatever.)

I personally think Mr. Hawkins probably has thought of Jonathan quite fondly for a while now, but not in a way he'd be comfortable expressing openly. He remains professional and just a boss interested in fostering talent, and if he privately pays more attention to how Jonathan is doing than he would someone else, no one has to (gets to) know. But even though he has felt warmly towards him, a lot of his actions later on in the book are motivated by guilt and loneliness. I do like to imagine that Hawkins sometimes thought of eventually entrusting the firm to Jonathan if he proved himself over time, but the speed at which it happened was dictated strongly by his guilt that he had sent Jonathan on that trip and whatever happened out there all but destroyed him. Add in the fact that Hawkins was getting extremely sick (and thus likely more sentimental as he neared his own death), possibly to an unexpected degree since gout alone wasn't usually fatal... Basically I feel like he went all-in very quickly on 'making it up to' Jonathan as well as opening the flood-gates of treating him like a son and being much more demonstrative with his care. Because, after all, Jonathan was such a good kid and he really didn't have anyone else in his life based on the funeral attendance. He wanted to leave this world with some kind of family at his side. Not to say his feelings of love weren't genuine, but they would not have been expressed that way under normal circumstances (and he might not have even realized how much he cared until Jonathan had been missing for a while). I bet it felt like a very abrupt change to come home to, but a welcome one. The kind of thing Jonathan might daydream about if he ever let himself go there, but which he would never actually expect in reality.

But pre-castle... yeah, I envision it all as quite professional on the surface on both ends.

#dracula daily #dracula daily spoilers #mr. hawkins #jonathan harker #this goes for mina too btw #hawkins probably always liked her. but didn't treat her like a daughter until the guilt over robbing her of her fiance/future began #anonymous #replies

[alphabetboyluvr]

hiii holly! i hope november's treating you kindly so far!

i wanted to ask whether you have any advice for writers that are just starting to publish. literally any modicum would be greatly appreciated.

it's really hard to assess whether one's writing is any good when literally no one ever reads it :( at the same time, I know I should write for myself first and foremost. can't help but want to be held accountable by the possibility of an audience, tho (maybe that's just my brain chemistry??) I fall into the pit of thinking "if no one's reading it, why am I even writing? I can daydream indefinitely and be satisfied. Why write?" Yet I always come back to writing; it's something magnetic.

it's not the same to ask close friends to read ur stuff bc they are ur friends, and may not give you the sincerity ur looking for so as to not discomfort u. conversely, they might not be interested enough so as to pick up on the fine details.

f/u question: how do you deal with publishing your work on the internet for free? does it ever scare you that strangers could copy and republish ur work without your knowing?

I guess that's one of my main apprehensions about posting loyally on writing platforms. I'm scared I'll write something I'm very proud of and have it plagiarized and not be able to track it back as my original property??

anyways, enough of my self-exposing on your q and a's feeling v vulnerable sharing my doubts so openly lol

thank youuuu :) ly <3

hiyaaa!! it's getting chilly, i won't lie, but other than that November has been pretty typical. likewise, i hope it's treating you well too!

honestly the fact you casually drop words like modicum probably suggests you're a paygrade above me in terms of writing hahaha

my answer is a long (srsly i just kept on going lmao) ramble, so I'll put a read more here haha

i've many lovely friends who i absolutely adore that I've met through writing that are now irls, but none of my friends that i know independently outside of writing have ever read my stuff - I've even got irl friends who are deep in the ao3 trenches, who are paying for other tannie writers' patreons, but we have an unspoken rule that my work is not to be read by them. i just don't let my friends read my work, full stop, so i get that sentiment.

the thing is, humans are naturally inclined to be storytellers - it's been that way for thousands of years. our tales are meant to be told. sharing is just a very human thing for us to do.

I've been publishing on wattpad (within the tannie space) for 4 years, now. readers didn't appear overnight - i actually recently found a screenshot of you up? from march 2021. it had 28 parts, 2.03k reads and 313 votes.

it now sits at 62 parts, 1.45million reads and 55k votes.

that's a little bit perspective for you, i guess - i'd written half of an entire novel that was averaging around 70 reads per chapter, but i loved that world, and i had story to tell, so i told it. some people viscerally hated it, some loved it. i was writing for me, and the numbers prove that. if you worry about the numbers, you'll never satisfied.

similarly, comparison is the thief of joy, or so they say.

comparing yourself to other writers is never healthy. there are far more 'successful' authors on wp in terms of reads, but i genuinely mean it when i say i think i have the most fulfilling and rewarding space on tannie wp because my readers are so unbelievably lovely. i wouldn't trade my current readership for bigger numbers, not a chance.

in terms of plagarism, there are 170,000 words in current use within the english language, and 36 plot types. we've exhausted a lot of them, already. overlap and similarities are bound to occur, so i try not get fixated on it.

take cv for example - i was so gassed up with myself when coining the terms mono and multi, only to find out after i'd finished writing the story that there was a drama with a similar concept that also used the term mono for a similar condition that aired after i'd already started writing cv. overlap happens.

similarly, we're a product of the media we consume. endeavour is my favourite word, because it was in a song i liked when i was a teenager and it stuck with me. i use it all the time, and we can trace it back to the pen of alex gaskarth lmao.

I've seen readers of mine publish work that's been heavily inspired by my work - with and without 'permission' - and i just sort of shrug my shoulders whenever i notice it.

the way i see it, we'll never tell the exact same story. likewise, no two readers will ever read identical texts the same way. i encourage creativity, and know how important it is for me to empty my brain, so I'll never go for someone's throat for doing the same. that's how myths were born, right? people telling and retelling the same stories over and over again? how am i gonna write a romeo & juliet x greek mythology inspired fic and then get annoyed for someone taking inspo from me?

just like the way hair will always grow back after a terrible cut, new words can always be written after a disappointing discovery. idk, i just don't take it very seriously, i guess.

as for whether or not your writing is any good - it's totally subjective. there are people who have explicitly, publicly stated their disdain for my writing. I've had cruel opinions about my writing projected and amplified to large followings. and it sucks.

but there are people who have been exceptionally kind about my writing, too. i get some of the loveliest messages in the world. there are tiktoks with hundreds of comments of just unadulterated loveliness directed towards my work. I'm afforded so much grace and love that it can be overwhelming at times.

not everything is for everyone, and that's okay. you can't let yourself get hung up on pleasing everyone.

the one thing i will say, is that if you're seriously concerned about your IP, write original characters, and use wattpad as your platform. i know they have a reputation, but they give a shit about copyright infringement and the second someone gets reported for plagiarism, they'll investigate it, and take down the story.

no reward without risk - you gotta decide if the risk of plagiarism is worth the reward of sharing your work.

and plus, ai is taking over anyways. may aswell write while we still can lol.

so i guess tl;dr - don't let outside influence impact your internal need to create. the right readers will find your work eventually, but it's not an overnight miracle kinda thing. if i stopped writing just because i didn't see results in my stats, then i would have stopped after kumiho, and we'd have never gotten throttle, or bd, or anything else of mine you might have read.

do it because you love it, and it fulfils you. i love the communities built around my stories, and that's why i share them. writing without sharing doesn't fulfil me in the same way.

okay i've really rambled too much so i'll leave it here, but i hope that helps a little!!! or at least has given you insight into my brain!!!!!!

luv u byeeeeeee

#ask #honestly im not sure im qualified to answer this #but i really appreciate you asking me for advice #sorry for the ramble lol #hope it helps a lil #if u publish #lemme know!!!!

[gunsatthaphan]

I wasn't sure about ON or the idea of a crossover, like many people, but at risk of speaking too soon, this is one of my favorite episodes. Patpran felt organic, the plot didn't bother me, I love Inkpa and Phuphatian, the chemistry was there. People could call it bad taste or low standards, but for me nothing too annoying jumped out. I genuinely enjoyed it so far and am actually excited for the next episodes. Sure I don't like Pat's hair personally speaking lol, but that won't stop me from rewatching. I haven't looked much at opinions yet so maybe other people hated it with a passion. Maybe it's because I went in with low expectations? Maybe if I had been hyped about Bad Buddy's episode I'd be let down instead?

P’Aof got me on this crossover train, at least for now. The plot definitely makes sense. Also did we just get WaiPat kiss😭 that was so funny LMAOO at least we know now how Pat wakes up Pran

Sooo the crossover is really happening, I am still not sure if we will get 2 or 4 episodes(I think 4🤔) I am happy to see Tian and Phupa back🥹 For the BBS part I am not sure anymore about this 2 passing as a couple? I don't know they feel very "bro" with each other? p.s. I hate Pats hair and I am still devastated over Longtae not being in PhuPanDao

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I feel conflicted lol.

I don't wanna comment too much on patpran because I know people are sensitive; I'd say the chemistry wasn't bad and ON were able to fully get back into character which I didn't doubt - but too much has happened for me to enjoy this lmao. I can't look past the things that occurred so it's difficult for me to be objective.

However, unexpectedly, I'm loving the crossover lol. I was trying to think of possible ways for them to combine these stories over the past few days and I came up with nothing lmao. But the idea with the script is actually really smart. It makes sense to me. Also I might have gotten a little emotional at that last scene lmao I didn't expect that. it's been so long. none of this feels real. but daddy aof did it again 😮‍💨

I'm pretty sure we will get 4 episodes. I'm thinking it's gonna be BBS x ATOTS ep1 tomorrow, BBS x ATOTS ep2 next Wednesday and then ATOTS ep1 on Thursday. but who knows. if they wanna go full clusterfuck they bring the others back in the finale as well lmao.

xxx

#our skyy2 #bad buddy #our skyy x bad buddy #opinions #can you imagine all of them reuniting in the finale #my brain would malfunction #also agree about pat's hair lol rip #also my boy longtae not being in this is a crime

[merlions]

Just tonight finally getting around to watching the new Dune - I was waiting cause some small part of me thought I'd be able to actually finish the book this time, but I finally have to admit defeat like the last time I tried.

Always been SO baffling to me how everyone seems to regard it on the same level as other sci fi novels, like Tolkien. I ate Tolkien for breakfast at 24 years old where I struggled with it even at 17, and since I first tried Dune at 14 I thought it might be the same principle, but I couldn't even get through the *audiobook* of Dune at 25 without like terrible headaches from just being so. Fucking. Confused.

Specifically the names! Not just names of people, but also titles and places etc etc etc.

Anyways while watching this I realized my problem FINALLY, and realized that I've been like imposter syndroming myself into believing I don't have mild color-grapheme synesthesia.

Dune is literally confusing to me JUST because A's and H's and K's are really similar colors to each other for me (arrakis, atreides, harkonen, kwisatz haderach etc (...i had to look up all those names cause i literally couldnt remember them as im watching the damn movie lmfao)) and they're also really similar to the color of the desert on the book cover, all like shades of red, some of which become oranges with the rest of the word. So reading the book to me is like. Every time a name comes up I am staring at a block of sandstone. Trying to pick one color out of the multitude of nearly-identical hues.

Which makes sense I guess why it's so frustrating to read, but also is a fascinating, COMPLETELY new insight as to how I read books or read/hear words in general. Like...it never occurred to me that that was the problem cause I genuinely didn't know I primarily use color to tell people/words apart.

I've always been a "speed reader", like is that just bc I identify a word and its color, and then every time it reoccurs I just notice the color and then mentally fill in meaning instead of reading the word again?

What implications does this have. I know color grapheme is the most common form of synesthesia, is it common to have problems reading like I have with Dune, or do people with it find themselves reading faster because of it? I heard it's supposed to be distracting but except in very specific cases, like Dune, it seems to specifically be helpful and clarifying? And like I find myself never going out of my way to get certain colors of things, but always ending up with that specific color of thing - ex. I never try to buy red backpacks but at one point I noticed every backpack I've ever owned in my entire life has been red. Have I been leaving myself messages. Have I been receiving messages from the Spice. Spice must flow. Spice must flow

#literally me at age 10 picking up a copy of the name of this book is secret at my middle school library: #huh synesthesia is so cool! i wonder what it would be like to live like that 🤔 #it would be so cool to see words as colors and vice versa! #then reading the whole book using color grapheme synesthesia speed reading techniques #synesthesia #anyways this is me self soothing and self validating cause i have always been a good reader and am embarrassed i #simply cant get through dune and probably never will 💁‍♀️ #my white whale. my ... giant sand worm may his passing cleanse this world

[enruiinas]

@climatact. Heartverse - continued from here.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ Eight years.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ Eight years now he'd spent calling the old man's parting gift - the technological wonder that was the Polar Tang - his home, and not once in that time had it occurred to Law to think of the submarine as too small. True, the Hearts had had to start doubling up on their living spaces well before they'd left the icy waters of the North behind them - and yes, it was difficult to tiptoe around one another in the wake of a disagreement, but from the captain's point of view, that had always been a selling point. Not being able to avoid each other meant that issues had to be addressed up front - and as a result, genuine fights on the ship had always been rare.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ Or at least he'd thought they were rare - up until several months ago. Perhaps he'd only thought the Hearts were so skilled at addressing their disputes under wraps because he'd never been the one sharing a room before. Were his crew always at each other's throats like he and Nami seemed to be of late? Or had they all grown so used to sharing these limited spaces that they'd simply stopped letting things bother them?

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ Whatever the case, the Tang had never felt smaller than it did when his or Nami's short tempers came to a head: something that was happening more and more often the further along Nami got in her pregnancy. Law had known -rationally speaking- that these things were going to happen. They'd already been prone to bickering before the influx of hormones in her system, after all. But even knowing they'd wreak havoc on her sooner than later had not prepared the doctor for some of the unpredictable things that seemed to set her off.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ But even his engineer had made it clear to him today that what Law thought of as helping - offering the only things he knew how to do for her in the hopes it might ease her burden however slightly, were not only not helpful, but apparently insulting as well. The hardest part of all of that was that when Law really stopped to think about it, he could understand where they were coming from. But that didn't mean he could just turn off the part of his brain that worried about her. About both of them.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ Knowing he'd never be able to left him with the most unsettling feeling of any of the arguments they'd had in the ex-marine's time upon the submarine. What had felt this morning - and still did, on so many levels - like what he was supposed to do now just felt like letting her down. And knowing that it was only a matter of time before he did it again...

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ From where he sat at the foot of the bed, Law looked down at their intertwined fingers, squeezing her had with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. ❝There's nothing you need to be sorry for, ❞ he told her. And he meant it, especially since he hadn't found the words for his own apology yet. Things came easier when he wasn't sitting still, though, so he risked a glance upward, amber meeting chestnut with a tilt of his head. ❝ Can I - or I guess do you still want me to... ❞ Brows furrowing with the effort to heed Ikkaku's advice, Law sighed. ❝ Let me rub your back? ❞

#climatact #♡ // ic ; #♡ // verse: heartverse ; #tw: pregnancy #Heartverse || Apology