If u identify w more than 1 gender, whether ur bigender or genderfluid ect, and are also attracted to more than 1 gender, and you relate to a post abt being a sapphic girl - that doesnt negate the fact ur still a mlm. If you relate to something geared towards men who like men, you can still be a gay girl. If you relate to something abt being nonbinary or liking nonbinaries, your identity as a boy or a girl or both does not vanish and the reverse is true, you dont stop being genderqueer or agender or nonbinary or any other identity just because you relate to something about one of your other identities.
Tumblr has this issue with forcing nonbinary people to allign ourselves strictly with a binary gender no matter how much we protest it. And if you allign one way, thats cool, but whatever other identities you feel - no matter how small - are always valid.
You be you and relating to one part of yourself doesnt make some other part of you vanish.
Im a sapphic girl. Im a mlm. Im nonbinary. I like other nonbinaries. Im all these things and you cant force me to drop any of these identities purely because they fit in your neat little boxes.
The ambulance rushed you to the hospital as Spencer rambled off hypothetical statements as to how long your body had been without oxygen.
But even though he could reason the numbers lower, it was still a grim situation.
Every rib but two in your rib-cage had been broken, and the pain wafting through your system, while intense, was a miracle.
Tears poured down your face for the miracle.
The paramedics rushed to set IV’s and check dilation of your pupils, Spencer coo’d that he was there and they asked you rambling questions, forgoing answers just to see if you could hear them.
Could understand them.
And then, your eyes snapped shut and your entire body began to contract and release.
Contract and release.
Contract and release.
“Y/N?” Spencer asks breathlessly as a paramedic scoots in front of him.
But he couldn’t pry your eye open in order to check your pupils.
“She’s having a seizure,” the paramedic says as the other one keeps taking notes.
But Spencer knew that wasn’t a sign of an oxygen-starved brain.
Maybe you hadn’t been in the water as long as he had suspected?
And once the seizure was over…
“Ow…” you groan out.
“Y/N!” Spencer rejoices.
“My head…” you slur.
Slurring of words wasn’t good.
“Where does it hurt, ma’am?” the female paramedic asks.
Tears were pooling onto Spencer’s neck.
Seizures. Headaches. Depression.
What was happening to his wife?
“My neck,” you whimper.
And the paramedic began to feel back behind your neck as your legs began to involuntarily contract and release again.
And still, the paramedic took notes just as the ambulance swung into the hospital.
It felt like an eternity.
Spencer wasn’t allowed in the room while they did the psychiatric evaluation. Nothing that could be of a possible emotional influence was allowed. He knew the protocol was just in case a spouse was being abused, but he was desperate to know.
Desperate for answers.
His mind was swirling and silent at the same time as he felt a body sit down near his.
“You gotta eat, kid,” Derek lulls as he hands Spencer a drink.
“Not hungry,” he murmurs.
“Tough,” Derek announces as he shoves a burger into his hands.
“Eat,” he commands.
But just as Spencer got the food unwrapped, the doctor stepped into the waiting room.
“Y/N Reid?” the doctor asks.
And Spencer leapt to his feet.
“That’s my wife!” he exclaims as the doctor walks over to him.
“What’s going on with my wife?” Spencer croaks.
“Well, the psych eval went about as well as you could expect. She’s on a mandated 72 hour hold, with two sessions scheduled with talking to the psychologist on staff,” the doctor begins.
None of that shocked Spencer.
“But there are some things that don’t line up,” the doctor says.
“Good, because I don’t think they do, either. See, with the seizures in the ambulance and the fact that her medication wasn’t-”
“Dr. Reid,” the doctor interrupts, “I am quite familiar with that brain of yours, but please let me do my job.”
Spencer took a deep breath as he watched your hospital bed wheel out into the room.
“Y/N?” he asks as he brushes past the doctor.
But you were fast asleep as the doctor grasped his arm.
“Where are you taking my wife?” he growls as he whips around to the man in the white coat.
“I have reason to believe that your wife has a tumor,” the doctor blurts out.
Now he had Spencer’s attention.
“She fell asleep, and I allowed it after reconciling that she hadn’t sustained any sort of concussion bobbing against the pier, and she’s going for an MRI and a CAT scan to see if there’s anything there to substantiate what’s going on.”
“A-a-and what, um…do you think is going on?” Spencer asks.
“I think that everything she is experiencing can be explained with a brain tumor pressing up against her limbic system,” the doctor begins.
The he will not divide us stream is literally so entertaining and positive. This morning there were like 4 guys, all strangers. Just hanging out, playing music, dancing, joking around, giving shout outs to people online. At one point within a 30 minute window two strangers online had food delivered. There was a cop car in the background and they offered the officer food while he sat there. I’ve seen people drop off coffee and pizza, complete strangers mind you, just trying to help the fellow man out. Ive seen the people standing around just start picking up trash off the side walk. I’ve seen people stop and ask questions while walking down the street and they answered very respectfully. I’ve seen someone stop and yell something about obama and they just kind of ignored him and moved on. I haven’t seen any drama or arguments or negativity. I kind of love this whole idea.
I must apologise as ive not been on here recently, but due to good reason.
I always struggle with this time of year, because I know theres a couple of rough dates coming up (best friends death anniversary, sisters death anniversary & her birthday) and I feel a bit of shame for not being able to deal with them despite the years going by.
The other day I hit a major low and I had incredibly dangerous thoughts going on in my mind and it was the first time in a long while ive ever contemplated ending everything. I remember sitting here thinking how easily I could set myself on fire and all shit like that, and ANYONE who knows me, knows that is not like me at all.
Ive also been feeling a lot of disappointment in myself, and I feel like im not bringing everything I could do or that I used to in this community and it really hit me that ive not been giving everything I could to you guys.
It actually pains me to write this, because I know its not the positivity youre all used to on my blog, but I didnt wanna leave you guys without an explaination.
Im not going anywhere though, I’m still here and you better believe my regular content will be back soon, hopefully tonight!
But I hope you all understand ive had to take a few days off to give myself a kick up the ass and stop feeling sorry for myself, and get myself back where I was!
-im really stressing out bc we’re scheduling classes fr next year and i decided to take ap spanish a year earlier than i was planning n now i CANT TAKE ART MY FAVORITE CLASS WITH MY FAVORITE TEACHER AND FAVORITE ENVIRONMENT n i’ve got a feeling i’m going to fail it but its oaky i guess u kno wat ever
-my hair is hella soft and shiny rn its RL noice thx u morrocan argan oil conditioner
-my writing is getting shittier and shittier i apologize u guys deserve better. hOWever if you’ve got something in mind for me to write hit me up bc im on a block rn with this other request i’ve had for a while now and i need to get dat creativity flowin
-a terrible boy who aint worth my time is once again ruining my life, please send help i cant keep forgiving him and being the one who ends up apologizing when ive done nothing wrong ugh fuck me
-enjoy por favor
It turned out that the event that Jerome had been so looking forward to was a charity ball for Gotham’s Children’s Hospital. About three hours before it was scheduled to begin, you were once again handed over to Barbara and Tabitha to be dolled up again. “Make sure she looks perfect,” Jerome instructed, “But not like she stands out or anything. Can’t have those GCPD bozos trying to take her away from me.” The two women voiced their understanding and kicked him out of the room, but not before he winked at you as you sat on the other side. You were sitting in the same spot you had been in the first time the two women had used you as a life-sized barbie doll. Once they got started, the entire event of getting you ready for the gala went by in a flash. Barbara did your makeup again, however this time it was much less natural-looking. Your eyeshadow was a dark pink to light pink fade, and your cheekbones were lightly contoured. Tabitha was doing your hair again as well, instead this time she kept your hair down; from what you could see in the mirror she was going for a wavy style. The dress hanging on the closet door across the room was crushed pink velvet with spaghetti straps, straight, and ball gown length. Once your face and hair was to their liking, they had you put the dress on behind a divider.
“Hang on,” Barbara said, rummaging through a drawer on the other side of the divider. She handed you something over the top; when you took it you saw it was a black choker. “Wear that. I’ll get ginger in here so we can go.”
Seconds later, she reentered the room with Jerome, whose eyes were being covered by Barbara’s hand. You’d already stepped out from the divider. She let her hand fall and his eyes landed immediately on you. “Wow,” he said in a low voice, “You look absolutely stunning, babygirl. Spectacular.“
“Thank you,” you whispered. He walked over to you, taking your hands in his. He was considerably taller than you, even despite the fact that Barbara and Tabitha had given you a pair of strappy, matte, black heels.
“We can have so much fun when we get back.” He shot his signature evil grin at you, before leading you out the door. ‘Absolutely not,’ you thought to yourself. ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.’ The car ride to the event was relatively civil. You didn’t talk, which wasn’t unusual, and as much as you pushed yourself into the car door to keep distance, Jerome still managed to keep a hand on your leg the whole time. You couldn’t let it distract you, however. You were too busy formulating an escape plan in your head. ‘How will I get away from them all? Do I go straight to the police right after, do I lay low for a while instead?’
The events of the night must’ve been entertaining, you were sure, but you were too busy looking around every two seconds in search of an escape route. While Jerome and Barbera were preparing their act backstage, you were kept by Tabitha’s side the whole time. The only thing keeping you from running at every chance was the expertly hidden pocket knife she kept at your side all night. You kept silently praying someone in the crowd would recognize you and say something, but then, what would that’ve meant for the knife at your side? Escaping wasn’t going to be easy, but you would be damned if you knew you had let the opportunity for freedom pass because of a piece of metal with a point. Before the show started, Tabitha had dragged you along with her to a dark corner in an unoccupied hallway. She stood facing you and moved the pocketknife away. “Listen,” she started, “I don’t want to have to keep you locked up after tonight. Theo has something planned tonight, and I want to help you get away when it’s all over.”
Your jaw just about dropped to the floor. You were dumbstruck! “I- I don’t understand…” you stammered.
“Look, just- just hear me out.” You nodded. “If I let you escape, you have to promise you won’t tell the cops about the rest of us. Just tell them that when Jerome had you, he was alone. No accomplices. No roommates. None of us. Just him. The police tells the news what you told them, and you’ll be fine. Theo won’t try to come after you if he thinks you got him off the hook. Got it?”
“Good. You’re a good kid, (y/n). You deserve to move past all this. You didn’t deserve any of it. So can I trust you not to run your mouth?”
“Of course. Thank you, Tabitha.” You meant it. You had no hard feelings towards her, or even Barbara for that matter. They were nice to you the whole time, what’s the difference if they were both a little whack? They weren’t the ones who kidnapped you or held you hostage. Tabitha was literally helping you escape. You would always be grateful for that.
She smiled. “I still have to keep this on you though,” she motioned to the knife. “For the sake of convincing Theo I’m not planning anything.” You could understand that. Once you reached your table. You did your best to hide your face from the rest of the crowd. You didn’t want someone spotting you now and ruining your whole plan, that would just end badly.
The events of the night flew by, up until when Jerome highjacked the magician’s bit and started killing people. Some in the crowd had escaped, but the majority of them, like you, were not as fortunate. Then, of course, there were the bits where GCPD detective, Jim Gordon, tried to intervene (if only for a minute or so), and when Jerome tried to kill Bruce Wayne, but none of that was as shocking as what happened next.
Theo Galavan, his mentor and leader, betrayed his trust and murdered him on the stage. You couldn’t help but react a bit shocked- despite what he had put you through, a stab to the throat seemed to be a very unleasant way to go. As soon as the knife was lodged in his neck and Barbara had escaped, everyone at the gala immediately fled, seemingly afraid that something worse was coming if they stayed there any longer. Tabitha did her best to guide you away from Theo’s view, pushing you into the crowd so you could blend in. You turned around and your sight of her was lost; maybe in order to help you gain some escape time against her brother.
When the cool, refreshing night air hit your face, you cried. You immediately started searching for the police when a strong hand came down on your shoulder. Your head snapped around to find the source, and you found yourself in front of a man wearing a GCPD badge. “Oh my God. (y/n) (y/ln)?” The man asked you.
As much as you had been crying before, you were full out sobbing now. “Yes,” you choked out, nodding your head. You weren’t sure how to respond to the situation at hand. Your captor was dead, you were free, standing next to one of the only people who had any control over the madness of that God-forsaken city, and you were alive. You barely knew what to say next, so you said the first thing you thought of. “I wanna go home,” you cried.
The ride back to the GCPD precinct was quiet, but you didn’t mind. The detective, who actually ended up being the infamous Jim Gordon, had given you a blanket before putting you in the car and calling your family to let them know that you’d been found, and you were alive and unharmed. Before being allowed to go back home, you had to be taken in to give an official statement. When you arrived, you had been given a change of clothes- a t-shirt and some sweatpants- and a big mug of coffee, your blanket still hanging around your shoulders. You were sat down on the other side of Gordon’s desk when the official recording started. “Just say what happened.”
“Um, well Jerome, he- I was walking home from school on the day that I was taken and he kidnapped me then- it was just him, I never saw anyone else. And he kept me locked up-he never did anything to me, just talked, but I think he must’ve had an obsession.”
Gordon interrupted. “Why do you say that?”
“He- he always kept talking about how he thought I was ‘his’ like he- like he owned me, or something… he liked pet names a lot. And then tonight, he brought me to the gala, he said he wanted to ‘show me off’, or something dumb like that. The only reason I didn’t run during was because he said if I tried anything, he’d kill my family, that he had them tied up somewhere. So I stayed where I was until that man killed him. Then I ran.”
He switched off the tape recorder. “Thanks for cooperating. Your family is on their way.” He stood up to go finish his work. “And, (y/n)-” he stopped to face you. “I’m really sorry about what happened to you. You seem like a good kid. You didn’t deserve any of that. I’ll have one of the guys escort you and your family home. And-… I’d recommend group therapy… or something like that. To help you cope.”
“Thank you. For everything. And… I’m sure my parents will be on board with that. ”
The reunion with your family was full of tears and hugs. Your parents had bags under their eyes, they looked like that hadn’t slept in weeks. You embraced each other in the steps of the precinct, falling to your knees. You couldn’t tell how long you all had been like that, but eventually you were led back to your home by one of the officers. The night was indescribably emotional and full of tears.
Your story was on the news for a week or so, and afterwards, it faded into the background. The only reason it was such a popular story was because of the fact that Jerome was involved. There were hundreds of kidnappings every week in Gotham, and most of them went unnoticed by the media. But they had a field day with you. Apparently during his raid of the GCPD, he mentioned how he was the one who had taken you, and that’s why the police were in such a hurry to find you.
Your parents signed you into a hospital 3 weeks later. You had been mostly back to normal since you had been recovered, so they weren’t expecting your sudden mental breakdown at all. The full weight of your trauma hadn’t hit until then, and then suddenly it came crashing all at once. It started with you having random outbursts or crying here and there, but then your handle over the situation deteriorated. Next, you stopped eating. You couldn’t risk it without being sick. Then, you stopped leaving your room. This went on for a few weeks until one day, you passed out on the stairs.
You had never really been a depressed kid before, so this was alarming to your family. Your time spent in theater had molded you into an extroverted, generally happy, and energetic person. When the light disappeared from your eyes and smile and were replaced by hollow, sunken cheeks and dark circles around your eyes, you all knew something was wrong. The doctors diagnosed PTSD and recommended 2 weeks in the hospital for your recovery.
You had lots of visitors, and that made you happy, but you could no longer express that happiness. You were put on mild medication, which helped, and you started feeling better as time went by. Most of your visitors were friends and family, but sometimes other people would come. Most of the time, they were Jerome fanatics. There must’ve been a cult of them or something, because every time it was a different person or group of people. They idolized him, and, by association, you. They saw Jerome as a messiah and you as his ‘chosen one’. They always tried to get you to tell them about him, and at first you did.
“Well, he’s… extravagant, for sure,” you’d say. “He never hurt me, necessarily, but I mean, he killed people. He was a bad dude. I’m glad he’s gone.” This, of course, upset them. They were convinced he was just a rebel against authority and believed he could do no wrong, which is why you requested they stop being allowed to visit. This didn’t mean the cult stopped keeping tabs on you, however. It just meant they had to keep their distance in order to keep you in their plans to resurrect Jerome and reunite him with you.
-THat was a shit cut off point i know and i’m sorry, im just tired and this took a long time
-j man will be back in the next installment of this series so don’t worry ya lil brains
-PLEASE REQUEST STFF IM SO BORED AND NEVER BUSY AT ALL AND I NEED TO START BEING CREATIVE AND WRITING AGAIN
-my art class sketchbook is looking killer im so proud of her she’s beautiful and if u want to see any of the works in here let me know i want to share ehr with you all
-my depression has been pretty subsided lately and that makes me super happy!! i mean like i still never do shit anyways but like at least im starting to be less sad about it i guess
WELL THERE U HAVE IT THATS AL L FOR TONIGHT FRIENDS
In which even the smallest moments together matter.
Word Count: 652
“Are you still playing Pokemon Go?” Calum asks, tucking the cigarette back between his lips. He’s sprawled out on the grass next to you, in the same position he plopped down in thirty minutes ago. Ashton had been occupying his attention until he’d run off about ten minutes ago. You hadn’t minded, content to sit with them while they had a free second.
You risk a glance from the screen of your phone, amused at your boyfriend’s question and mocking tone. “And if I am?”
Instead of answering, Calum just grins, head turning away from you to exhale the smoke from between his lips. The screen of your phone lights up as it vibrates in your grasp, your attention immediately snapping back to the screen.
With your attention diverted, Calum takes a second to quickly snuff out the lit end of his cigarette and toss the stub off to the side. When he turns back, you’re still focused on your phone, brow furrowed and tongue peeking out from the part of your lips as you tap at the screen. You’re completely oblivious to his attention and he smiles softly, his fingers inching closer until they curl into the fabric of your shirt and yank you down onto the grass with him.
“Hey!” You laugh, finally turning your head to look back at him. Your nose is scrunched in mock annoyance as he drags you under his arm, tucking you against his side and letting your head rest on his shoulder. “You made me miss the Gloom!”
You hook an ankle around his in retaliation, dragging his leg down from its bent position until the pair of you are a mess of tangled limbs in the grass. The air around you is heavy from the heat, sweat trickling down the back of your neck. It’s maybe ten degrees cooler in the shade you’ve managed to find but Calum’s insane amount of body heat doesn’t really help the situation. You’re left wondering how the hell he’s managing to survive in his black jeans and boots.
And as you watch his eyelashes flutter against the apples of his cheeks, you’re struck with how perfectly un-normal your normal is with him. An amphitheatre looms in the background and this is the first time you’ve been alone with him in the three days you’ve been here, but with the cheesy background music from the game still playing and your limbs wrapped around his, you’re completely sure you wouldn’t trade these moments for anything.
“Don’t blame me ‘cause you’re a shit pokemon player.” Calum mumbles, lips curling into a smirk.
“Rude!” You squawk in protest, dropping your phone so you can swat at him. Calum intercepts the attack, grabbing your hand and threading his fingers through yours, bringing them to rest on his chest. He chuckles when you pout, turning his head a bit more so that the tip of his nose nudges against the side of yours.
“Oy, Hood!!” Michael’s voice filters over, laughter barely contained as he jogs by. “Stop being gross with Y/N and help us with this snapchat!”
“Hey Clifford,” Calum calls back with a laugh, propping himself up on one elbow and pulling you up with him so he can use his other hand to flip Michael off. “Fuck off!”
You snort, eyebrows raised when Calum turns back to look at you with a dopey smile. He quickly flushes at the ‘wtf was that’ look that is no doubt plastered across your face. He doesn’t give you an answer, instead choosing to fall back onto the grass. You watch with a smirk as he, again, tugs at the bottom of your shirt and waits for you to settle back against his side.
He clears his throat, turning and hiding his face in your mess of hair. There’s the pucker of his lips against your hairline, and a mumbled “Just want to spend time with you.”
note: nothing in this is about anyone specifically, i genuinely had no one in mind regarding any parts of any of this as things in this intentionally apply to several people, i also want to say that nothing prompted me to post this, its just something ive been thinking about for a long while now
outside of derailing a practically canon gay relationship (i do consider it canon due to a combination of whats been shown in canon and how justin and griffin treat it on social media along with things the both of them have said that wasnt about taakitz specifically), crackships with taako are just.. unnecessary, i say crackship despite some of these characters saying maybe one line that implied a one-sided crush on taako, i get why taako is a fan-favourite, and obviously this means he would get more content…
but m/m fetishization and oversaturation does more harm than good to both gay boys and lesbians (bi people included, obviously), like i was in the fandom when hurley/sloane was the most popular pairing on ao3 and seeing how quickly taakitz overtook it is.. really heartbreaking, like dont get me wrong ive said numerous times that i love taakitz, its a comfort for me, as a gay boy, but a lot of fic content for it is subpar and rehashed a million times, while f/f couples are pushed to the side, even those with more fleshed out relationships LIKE hurley/sloane, its hard to even find f/f crackships, ren/antonia is the only one i can think of off the top of my head, but m/m ones have loads more content (though this specific example isnt too good considering that antonia is a faaaiiirly new character, but you see what i mean)
like, im not gonna say that people need to stop making taakitz content or anything because theres nothing inherently wrong with that, this is just a really common problem with fandom as a whole and i wanted to say something about it
writing character death in fanficiton - a summarized quick guide
i have been meaning to point out for a while that writing character death is very different when you do it with your own characters (original fiction) from when you do it with other people’s fictional characters. yes, people should get attached to your characters when they read your original fiction and feel something when you kill them, but it’s not the same; those fictional characters are shared by communities that love them, cherish them, talk about them on a daily basis. there is a higher degree of attachment that you need to be aware of when killing, let’s say, your favorite harry potter character, because that might be someone else’s favorite too.
not saying ‘don’t kill them’, but here is a very brief list of three things that you should keep in account:
no death is in vain: even if the character that dies does not have a great impact on the story, make sure their death doesn’t seem ‘random’, or ‘uncalled for.’ death is big for humans. we find denial in every death, especially the death of something (someone) we love. minor deaths don’t have much effect in original fiction – here, they are a world. you may not care for the person that you just killed, but make it look like you do care for the character. the difference is huge.
do your research: you may say ‘but you also do research in original fiction.’ that is true. however, we are in a community where the majority of people’s reading and connection with reading comes through fanfiction. this ties in with the first point: if you kill someone with cancer (i have a lot of opinions on this matter as well, but this is for another post), and are not respectful in the way you do it, you are making a lot of mistakes and wronging a lot of people here: yourself, first, by not extending to the limit of your abilities, wronging those who are actually going through the illness, wronging your character; don’t forget, no death is in vain, and none to be taken lightly.
take advantage of the first two points: this isn’t redundant, and i’ll tell you why now. once you grasp that no death is in vain, and once you’ve done all the research you had to (even for supernatural deaths there is something you can research! mix it up) your character deaths will be what we all want them to be – effective. they will draw an emotional response that is anger/pain/disbelief/etc. at how well you did it, not at why or it was unnecessary. it’s what most of us who reach all the way to character death strive for: to see our readers twist and turn, because we killed someone they loved, and they can’t even be upset about it. because it was a masterpiece.
i hope this was helpful and helps you all out in your fictional murder endeavors.
if you don't mind me asking, how did your date go?
it was great!! We went to a hookah lounge which ive never been too,!! we stayed there for a while talking and just chilling since he was tired from work,,, after i went over his place to watch movies since it was late and everything was closed;;;; i also went on a date yesterday which was a lot of fun, we went mini golfing and i won :’ )))) it was his first time playing and he said he had so much fun :’ )) thanks for asking anon !!!
sorry for lack of a story! i had crazy new ideas for a sci-fi thing ive been working on for a while. one of my own personal projects that i began back when i was just starting to play with the idea of writing. because im a sucker for almost totally complete lore, im in the midst of creating histories of about 17 civilizations. which will then be condensed down to imporant events or a summary of each phase in a civilizations development.
-collapses- ive got this au thats been dormant for too long-
ook so here we have— - adam the lion that has a lot of shiny stuff and tats - fidgety seto who cant stay still - ty the king cobra whos chill and hood i forgot to draw fu CK and space fillers dont mind those—
i love adams design so much fu KC
+ i saw someone’s rlly cool hybrid au and it inspired me to revive this old au ive had for a while 👌👌 idk if u know who u are but if u do then thanks mdude