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#two years ago it was just depressing af

babydin · 1 year

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Love in the Middle of a Firefight - PART THREE

The pregnancy is easy, despite the circumstances. The pregnancy was the easy part, Joel was supportive, he helped out, he ran around like a Retriever whenever you asked him to and Ellie asked a million questions every single day. But when the baby arrives Joel doesn't know if he remembers how to love something so fragile. - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - (3/?) - Joel is dad, Joel is Daddy, paternal postnatal depression, pregnancy sex, oral. Not necessarily in this chapter, but for sure in this series!! Trauma references. Domesticated af. Angsty in places! - 1200 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! A/N: Warning? for a cheeky finger bang and Joel being silly. Taglist 💜: @this--is--music @starkleila @finnsbubblegum @daddy-din

Joel assures you that nothing bad is going to happen. You’re starting to think Joel is full of shit.

PART ONE - PART TWO

You didn’t hear Joel come home. You were busy rearranging furniture in the spare bedroom that had once been a study and gradually in the 6 months of your pregnancy had become a nursery with the help of the people of Jackson. They came around with clothes, and toys outgrown, nothing like that ever got thrown away here; if it could be fixed, it was fixed, only if it was beyond repair did anything ever get tossed away but there was always someone who was good at fixing something. You hadn’t seen your toes for a while, Ellie assured you they were still there. Your back was starting to hurt, Joel was pretty good at massages. As you shifted things around, you had on the soundtrack from Dirty Dancing. The movie seemed like a distant memory now, in light of everything it felt like it must’ve been a hundred years ago. Time moves differently in Jackson. You swayed to the beat of Eric Carmen singing about Hungry Eyes, hanging a mobile with plush moons and stars above the crib Joel had built, when suddenly the song changed. You heard Joel’s familiar humming over your shoulder and didn’t bother turning around, “Please don’t fuck with my music.” you ask him. “It’s your favorite.” He says, turning up the volume a little. He skipped ahead to Love Is Strange, your brain scrambles a little as he jumps the song forward then moves to hop up on the dresser. “What are you doing?” you ask, giggling softly. “Sylvia?” You don’t answer but Sylvia does ‘Yes, Mickey?’ Joel puts his hands on the edge of the dresser and leans forward a little way, “How do you call your lover boy?” he cups his good ear and waits for you to answer, you just blush and shake your head and let Sylvia take this one too ‘Come here, lover boy!’ Joel flicks his wrists a little in a ‘what gives?’ kind of way, he knows you’ll crack soon; “And if he doesn’t answer?” Your features drop and you smile through your bashful cheeks and play along with him, “Oh lover boy.” you sing-song to the music, your tone a little more sultry than that on the track. “And if he still doesn’t answer?” he beckoned you closer “I simply say… baby,” you let out a playful giggle as Joel plays the air guitar, “oh baby,” you move closer to him, he continues to strum the imaginary guitar to the beat between your words, “my sweet baby. You’re the one.” Joel slides down off the dresser, his hands immediately cradling your stomach at either side as you both sway a little to the music as it fades away. “You’re the sexiest thing I know,” Joel complimented, smiling down at you with that smile he reserved only for you. You scoff and put a hand on top of his. “I feel like a whale. My back hurts. He’s heavy.” “Oh she is, is she?” Joel teased and you swatted his arm. You had been arguing over the sex of your baby for the last two months, but the fact was neither of you cared so long as they were healthy and safe. “Do you wanna go sit down? Go on and sit down, I’ll bring you some water. Take a rest for a little while.” You put your hand on his chest and steal a kiss from his lips, thinking about how lucky you are to get to see this side of him. You cradle your stomach as you make your way across to the bedroom you shared with Joel, you kick off your slippers - although for some weeks now you haven’t been entirely sure of your own feet because you haven’t seen them, but Joel assures you they’re still there - then you meander over to the bed and perch on the edge of it. It’s an immediate relief to not have the weight of yourself bearing down on your ankles and your legs start to burn, you wonder how much longer you have to endure this but the thought of childbirth scares you. The thought of childbirth without a proper hospital scares you even more. Joel assures you that nothing bad is going to happen. You’re starting to think Joel is full of shit. He comes in, as promised, with a glass of water for you and you thank him quietly. Joel sets it down on the bedside table and sits the pillows up so he can sit up against them, his legs spread and his arms open and he makes a grunting sound that, since knowing him, you have learned means ‘come here’. You shuffle back on the bed and nestle between his legs, his arms fall around you like a rugged scarf as you back presses into his chest; one that smells of sawdust, leather and very faint undertones of gasoline. “What have you been doing today?” you ask him, curious about the gasoline smell more than anything. His hands dig into your hips in the most blissful way, his massaging motions making you close your eyes and sink into him, “I spent most of it helping the Goldbergs with their yard. Their lawn wanted mowing so I did that -” you smile, that explained the gasoline “ - then I built somethin’ to help Mrs. Goldberg get up an’ down better when she’s out tendin’ to her begonias.” “Oh begonias,” you chuckle, “that’s a pretty word to be comin’ out of your mouth Mr. Miller.” “B’gonias.” he repeated, his Southern drawl a little thicker. One of your legs lifts and bends slightly to rest on his, parting your thighs a little as he continues to massage your thighs, moving under your rotund belly. “How have you been feeling today?” he asks, his hands move in a little to massage the joint from the inside, his fingers graze over your pubic bone and unintentionally tug at the muscles in your crotch and you start to feel a tingle that has you subconsciously parting your legs a little more. You wonder if he knows what he’s doing or if it’s accidental. “Pregnant.” you answer on a chuckle, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. Joel kissed your temple, his facial hair tickling just slightly, “The last bit will fly by… They’ll be here before we know it.” One of his hands moved between your thighs and brushed lightly over your sex through the fabric of the leggings and panties you were wearing but quickly wished you weren’t. He buried his face into your neck and kissed it slowly, his lips sucked and his tongue followed to soothe where he had marked. Between your legs, that hand followed a similar massaging pattern as it had shown to your hips, his free hand slipped under your shirt - which was actually Joel’s shirt because none of your own felt comfortable anymore - and his hand found your breast and he cupped it with a delicate touch. He had been so gentle with you since you had fallen pregnant, your body was changing, it was more sensitive than it had ever been and he followed your lead at all times. He listened when you said more, he listened when you told him no. You had never felt so safe.

Hushed moans tumble from your parted lips as he warms up your body for more of him, arousal pools in your underwear and your legs spread even more for him. You push back into him as your thumbs hook into the waistband of your lower garments, you make a quick adjustment of your body and push your hips up using Joel as leverage, and push the clothes down as far as you are able then kick them off the rest of the way before resuming your original position. Joel’s hand is quick to return to your core, a hum vibrates against your ear from him when he feels how wet you are for him. Thick fingers slide between your folds with ease in languid forward and back strokes, each backstroke he catches your clit against the pad of his finger and it coaxes a moan out of you. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.” he whispers in your ear. You know he doesn’t want dirty talk, he wants consent. He wants to know how far he can take it, because he’s been nothing but attentive to your needs throughout. “This.” you breathe out, “I just want you to play with me like this…” “Can I put my fingers inside you, kitten?” The fact he cares enough to ask turns you on even more. Joel’s protective side is lethal. You consider his question as all coherency slowly leaves your body as he continues his ministrations, then you shake your head softly. “Are y’okay with me touchin’ your breasts like this?” You nod your head gently, “Just don’t squeeze.” Joel kisses your jaw tenderly as a silent sign that his line of questioning is over. You hear his fingers moving over your slick labia and your whole body tingles as he knows just how to make you weak. His digits begin to move in circular motions, he’s hitting every nerve ending you have down there and it has your toes curling and your fingers gripping at his thighs. He kisses your neck again in the same way he did before and your head falls away from him like a ragdoll to give him the room to do so. This is the most relaxed you’ve felt in a while. His fingers move up to concentrate on your throbbing clit, pushing through your delicate folds to expose it from its hood with his index and ring finger spreading you apart, and then rubbing it with his middle finger. He started with slow circles, but he kept one eye on your body and his good ear on the sound of your breathing as it picked up the closer you came to your release. The pace he had set had you teetering on the edge, and it was excruciating, your hips pushed and rolled into his hand in a desperate attempt to get more from him and one of your hands reached back to grab at his hair, “Joel!” you cried out, “Joel please. Please, I need to cum! Please… Please…” he heard your first plea and he increased his pace, his two middle fingers rubbing quickly over the bundle of nerves slick with your arousal. Your moans came in short, sharp bursts on every breath. Suddenly you squeezed your eyes shut and the pressure valve was released and your orgasm finally came to you, coursing through your veins and making you see stars behind your eyelids, your muscles clench around the air, and you moan loudly and chant his name as you pull at his hair.

He allows you the space to come down, and you wait until you’re sure it’s completely passed before you let him go and you melt in his arms, unable to move. Joel brings his fingers up to his lips and sucks them clean before wrapping both his arms around you and peppering kisses over the side of your face. “I hope your son doesn’t judge us too much for the things we do while he’s in utero.” You tease, trying to catch your breath. Joel shakes his head and presses his temple to yours, “I don’t think the brain is developed enough to form memories. And he won’t. Because I have no son. It’s a girl.”

#( love in the middle of a firefight: babydin )#( joel miller: babydin )#joel miller x reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you

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doubledyke · 7 months

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dissociatED: ch. 1

Eddy is depressed and goes to Ed for help.

**details are subject to change cuz im essentially making this up as i go along, with a pretty vague outline.

Eddy's teal '91 Camaro rumbled through the parking lot of Peach Creek Rolladium, and stopped in the usual spot in a far corner, under the shade of a tree. For most people, arriving twenty minutes early would provide plenty of time to spruce up, get inside, and clock in. For Eddy, it was a crunch.

Booming bass from his souped-up sound system rattled the rearview mirror, making his pre-shift primp a bit dizzying. Ever the trooper, he pushed through and tousled his hair, swiped gel through his brows and practiced an unconvincing smile. Countless keychains rattled when he shut off the ignition, silencing the thunderous engine and stereo. He adjusted his seat to it's original position and threw his head against the back.

Eddy liked his job at the roller rink, since it gave him the opportunity to show off his impressive skate skills - plus the uniform was cool. But since graduating two weeks ago, he couldn't help but wonder where his life was headed. Mister Big Shot was finishing his first year in college, having graduated early; The Lump had his art and a fawning girlfriend. Eddy had...

The ashtray opened with a click and he plucked out the crispy half-joint he'd been nursing over the past few days. It didn't take a lot to get him where he wanted to be. He lit the blackened end and took a stale drag from his poor rolling job. Despite quickly feeling sufficiently fuzzy, he decided to finish it, knowing that the flavor would be even worse if it sat any longer. When it got too hot to hold, he tapped it out on the underside of the side-view mirror, then flicked it onto a pile of roaches he'd later gift to Ed.

After catching a glimpse of the time, he accepted his fate with a grumble and pulled himself out of his slump to rifle around the glove compartment for some cologne. With a few spritzes, he was ready to grace the masses with his presence. Just in case, he tilted the rearview down for one last ogle.

In his altered state, the glassy eyes that looked back looked just different enough to make his heart skip. From this angle, and in this lighting... His hands shot up to press and pinch at his features, attempting to convince his uncooperative brain that he was tripping.

Family members had often commented on Eddy's resemblance to his brother, but he was quick to disagree. He, of course, insisted that he'd inherited his mother's natural good looks, while the rest of the men in his family shared an uncomely mug. But in this drug-induced frazzle he felt unable to pull away from the menacingly familiar eyes that followed as he squirmed.

Any other time, Edd's voice nagging him about what to do would've been brushed to the back of his mind. Now he was desperate to remember what guidance his friend had for moments like this.

His chest tightened while one hand white-knuckled the steering wheel, the other clutching at the front of his shirt. Unseen hands clenching his neck made it impossible to swallow the growing lump in his throat. Now sweltering, the cabin was shrinking around him.

Five things you can tas- wait no... Was it three things you can smell? Am I s'posed to be holding my breath?

Just as his vision became spotty, he shouldered the door open with a metallic crunch. He'd barely made it over the door sill when the otherwise empty parking lot echoed with the splattering of his stress response onto the black top.

He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm and released a sickened groan. After ensuring that he was indeed alone, a shaky hand turned the key, still in the ignition. The stale air from the vents made it a little easier to breathe and gave him the wherewithal to dig his phone from his back pocket. Trembling thumbs composed a simple message to his manager.

sick cant come in

Eddy's parents were familiar with the signs of depression - after all, facial features weren't the only things their sons had in common. They'd seen many of the emotional and behavioral disturbances that plagued their firstborn passed on to their last. Despite their wealth of experience, neither were any good at addressing the issue in any meaningful way.

Eddy Sr. was of the opinion that mental illness was all a big ruse perpetrated by pansies who didn't want to get a job. The real psychos were the ones down at the state hospital who'd murdered people - or in severe cases, were cross-dressers. Of course his son was sad: he hadn't been laid in 18 years! A nice lady friend would be just the thing to help him through this transitional funk.

His mother knew better, having experienced severe postpartum depression after her first pregnancy at the tender age of 16. She knew her sons' plight but was nonetheless at a loss. Her standard offering of consolatory cooking wasn't cutting it this time. Haunted by memories of her eldest's many attempts on his own life, she did what she the best she could to alleviate the youngest's misery.

"Eddy you're wastin' away in here! Unless you're sneakin' food again, I don't see how ya haven't starved to death." She stood in the doorway, the light from the hallway allowing a glimpse at the unmoving mass on the bed.

It had been a week since Eddy's dissociative ordeal and by now the physical symptoms were overshadowed by unrelenting mental static. Recurring nightmares meant that most attempts at escaping his waking misery with sleep were a gamble. It was all he could do to get a glass of water since the once ordinary interior of his home now seemed unfamiliar and surreal. Chronically sour stomach allowing, he'd pinch from dishes of leftovers his mother stored in the packed fridge, but hadn't had a proper meal in weeks. Even showering had become an arduous task requiring intense mental preparation.

He'd worked his way up to shift manager at the beloved rink, but an inability to get out of bed cost him the only source of stability left in his life. So much for that "work family" the boss always touted. At just 18, he was plagued by uncertainty regarding his future. From what he could tell, he'd undoubtedly end up bagging groceries or scrubbing toilets for the remainder of his days. It wouldn't be long before he shacked up with a barefoot and pregnant Lee Kanker at the Park N' Flush. Or worse, he'd end up working under his dad at the dealership, wearing a kipper tie and sipping whiskey for breakfast. His eyes shot open to clear the gruesome images from his visual cortex. He was brought back to his bedroom where, after a lag, he processed what his mother said. Fifteen hours of sleep a day failed to provide the energy required to respond to his mother.

"Honey, that school Eddward's going to ain't but a couple hours away. When was the last time you seen him?" Eddy's mouth tightened upon hearing his friend's name. "Er, where's Big Ed? That guy's always a hoot and a half..." She suggested while rounding the darkened room to gather dirty clothes and empty cups. There was no response from inside the comforter cocoon. With a deep breath she slung the laundry over her shoulder and sat at the foot of the bed.

"Son, I want you to know that I love ya." She placed her free hand on what she guessed was his covered leg. "No matter if you're a queer, or if you're normal."

Eddy couldn't stop his face from contorting at her well-intentioned but clueless attempt at offering comfort. The last thing he needed right now was to open a Pandora's box of faggotry. Instead, he pretended to be asleep and devoid of thoughts about his brother, the future, being a homo, or "Eddward".

"Well, anyway, Dad's grillin' tonight." She grunted as she rose from the bed. "I'll bring ya a plate when it's ready, and you better eat it!" She knew he wouldn't, but a mother can't help but try.

Two more weeks passed before Eddy's father burst into his room to deliver an ultimatum:

"Alright son, listen up. You gotta get a goddamn job, learn a goddamn trade, or ya gotta go." The hulking man grimaced into the void of his son's room before flicking the light switch with his thumb. "And for Christ's sake, eat somethin'! Your mother's liable to have a conniption and I ain't dealin' with two of ya sad sacks." A slamming door ended their only interaction in recent memory.

Eddy rolled over onto his back, squinting at the now illuminated ceiling. His head rushed, causing spots in his vision when he sat up for the first time in a couple of days. Clammy hands rubbed harshly at his eyes while his father's demands sunk in. Still blurry from the adjustment, he scanned the vaguely familiar surroundings and let out a hoarse whine. He swung his legs sluggishly over the bed side and took a sip from an old glass of water on the night stand.

Simultaneously blank and bustling, his thoughts were difficult to organize. With no solid concept of how much time had passed, he was dumfounded when his phone indicated that nearly two months of his life had been squandered. The revelation made his heart palpitate, brought him to his feet and sent him barreling into the bathroom.

He cursed himself upon finding that the entire five foot mirror was covered by crudely ripped cardboard he'd taped up in the early days of his fugue.

"What kinda nutjob..." His voice barely cracked a whisper after being scarcely used for so long. Shaky arms pulled him onto the bathroom counter to begin peeling the blue masking tape from each corner. Piece by piece the corrugated coverings slapped onto the counter, gradually revealing the young man's likeness.

"Oof," he exhaled. Kneeling closely before the glass, he chuckled darkly at his haggard appearance. Dark circles exaggerated the bags below his eyes. Shadows of sparse facial hair further aged his overly mature face, and his naturally blushed skin was pallid. Most notable was the bit of weight he'd lost by subsisting on fingerfuls of cold lasagna and meatloaf. He raised a scraggly eyebrow at the subtle differences in his shirtless torso. The looseness of his shorts only served as a reminder of how hungry he was.

"Weird."

After shedding the rest of his stale clothing, and ensuring that the water was sufficiently scalding, he stepped in. Luxurious pressure pelted his atrophied muscles, sending a shiver down his spine. Several minutes beneath the soothing downpour made gradually him feel like himself again. The zesty aroma of his favorite bar soap invigorated his mind enough to assess his situation.

One thing was for sure, he didn't want to be depressed and on the street. Or worse, depressed and attending school. The reminder that he'd lost his job of more than two years made his heart sting. Despite threatening to walk out every other day, he'd gotten comfortable at the rink. Who wouldn't want to get paid to yell at kids?

He turned to let the water smack his face and conceded his only option.

A job at the automotive assembly plant was mindless enough; if Ed and Jonny could do it, it couldn't take more than one braincell. With Ed's referral, and due to their high turnover rate, Eddy was offered a job on the spot.

He quickly got the hang of the process once his fingertips were accustomed to being burned on the machinery day after day. The toughest part so far was maintaining his already tenuous grasp on sanity during the ten hour days.

"I'm tellin' ya! Look it up, 'queen shape shifts during press conference'. A minute thirty into the video, her eyes go all weird. I heard it's a third eyelid..." Jonny shouted over whirring machinery. "Makes ya wonder who - or what's livin' among us, huh buddy?" He nudged Eddy's bicep and let out a curdling cackle.

"Yeah, well I heard that if you hold the new $10 bill up to the light, you will see the ghostly face of H.G. Wells!" Ed added at a tinnitus inducing volume. The volley of conspiracies would often continue for the entirety of their 3:30 p.m. to 1:30 a.m. shift. Being stuck between his dopey coworkers was more likely to have him considering offing himself than the depression. Whenever he opened his mouth to protest an especially egregious remark, he was conveniently interrupted by a headrest in need of a cover rolling up to his spot on the line.

He soldiered on for two months because the pay was double what he made before. The drivel between Ed and Jonny was soon a welcome distraction from his brutal inner narration. Having a routine helped Eddy begin to feel normal again and his mental fog was dissipating. With even slightly clearer thinking, he realized that the whole "blue-collar" thing wasn't for him.

If not for his peace loving comrades, Eddy would've been involved in several skirmishes with the good ole boys that made up most of the plant's workforce; he didn't get what was so funny about knowing how to style a pair of overalls.

"Double Dee is right, Eddy. You are indeed, uh..." Ed's eyes darted while he tried to recall the word. "Truculent." He tutted, using one arm to restrain the fuming flamer.

"Truck-yer-WHAT?"

The plant itself didn't exactly accommodate a man of such short stature. At six-foot-six, Ed cheerfully offered to give his vertically challenged pal a boost if they were on a particularly height dependent rotation. Understandably, Eddy wasn't too keen on being hoisted into the air just so he could do some lousy job. It was either struggle through it, or quit entirely. Naturally, he chose the latter.

Ed and May moved in together the summer before senior year. The one bedroom hutch wasn't exactly in livable condition when her late father left it as a pathetic attempt at reconciliation. But as far as they were concerned, the house of a dead, chain smoking hoarder was an expedient escape from their turbulent home lives.

Before leaving for college, Edd insisted on helping make the "home" - he used the term loosely - more comfortable and less pathogenic. In his non-expert opinion, the structure should be condemned, but he'd long grown out of his habit of snitching. Though outwardly selfless, the project served as distraction from the anxiety that had reached a peak at the time. Overwhelming as it was, he was able to make several repairs and address the most emergent safety concerns though some of the issues were admittedly beyond his scope. He finished by decluttering and decontaminating the derelict domicile, and left behind a spare copy of "How To Clean Practically Anything" with hopes they'd build upon his work.

"This edition includes a comprehensive stain removal chart!" Edd gushed while pointing at the book's cover. The couple obviously weren't as ecstatic as Edd anticipated, staring blankly at the virtually spotless interior. He rationalized it as simply a delayed reaction. Unsurprisingly, the fruits of this labor of love were spoiled by the third month they'd been in the home. What kind of wack job wanted to clean after working all day? It was lucky for them that Edd hadn't returned for a visit in the year since.

Eddy had only been by a handful of times - you didn't need a degree to know that any space Ed occupied for five minutes would end up a sty.

"You're givin' 'em a book?" He'd gibed, watching Edd prop his gift on the freshly polished breakfast bar. "That's actually the perfect spot for it since it'll probably end up being used as a plate ."

Since he was leaving the plant, he knew it would be shitty not to accept when Ed invited him over after what he gleefully deemed his last shift.

His assumptions about the place were confirmed as he followed the path Ed was kicking through scattered shoes, an overflowing hamper, and stacks of half unpacked boxes in the entryway. The commingling of burnt bong resin, stale incense, and long forgotten bags of trash evidently didn't bother Eddy's begrimed brotherly figure in the slightest.

"Ed, you-know-who's gonna bust an artery when he sees... and smells this place." Eddy warned with a scrunched nose. He used his steel toe to gently nudge an unlabeled jug of green liquid he could've sworn was glowing.

"You're tellin' me! Maybe I will finally get to experience the dark side of the Dee..." He grinned before hanging a left in to the small kitchen, flickeringly lit by one exposed fluorescent tube. From the dust caked fridge top, he grabbed a tightly rolled bag of cheese curls, then a dented two liter from inside. Eddy waited where Ed left him, gaping at the teetering towers of video tapes lining multiple exterior walls.

The living room was surprisingly undecorated, with only one of Ed's prized posters hanging randomly. Countless fast food bags and cups littered a small glass-top coffee table. The lumpy green futon against the wall cracked under Ed and Eddy's weight as they sat together. After a short pause, the men cracked up in unison. Eddy popped open one of several un-chilled beers he'd filched from his dad's stockpile in the garage. In one breathless gulp, the can was emptied of its bitter contents.

"You heard from him recently?" Eddy asked as casually as he could while stifling a belch.

Eddy found himself talking to Ed's exposed crack as he crawled across the un-vacuumed carpet to push in the unknown tape poking out of the VCR on the floor.

"I missed a call from him uh... I think it was y-yes-terday." The last word was broken by a grunt when he lifted himself back onto the couch. Eddy watched with a cocked eyebrow while the man dusted the imbedded debris from his palms. Ed shrugged and presented an expertly rolled grape blunt. "We are playing phone tag now." He bit his lip excitedly before giving the wrap an indulgent sniff, lighting an end and huffing down an inch on his first pull.

"Damn," was Eddy's response to both Ed's impressive toke and the lack of an update on Edd. "Wonder what Poindexter's up to anyway..."

Ed was clearly not paying attention; his squinting eyes were glued to the comically oversized rear projection TV, watching the tape's pre-movie trailers.

Same ole lump.

An hour in, the slack jawed Ed was engrossed in a bizarre '80s horror movie about malevolent yogurt. At least, that's what Eddy gathered from the few glimpses he caught in his cross-faded daze. He'd been staring at the cracked ceiling through most of it with his head pressed uncomfortably against the wall behind them. Normally the two would have to remind themselves to keep quiet while May slept in the next room. But conversation had been sparse that night. Eddy's mind was at it again, now going back and forth about whether to return to the plant the next day. Of course, he didn't want to, but he wasn't sure if he should hold out until he found another gig.

He could just imagine what Edd would say: "Eddy, abandoning one's job without providing written or verbal notice in accordance to company policy is not conducive to successful employment seeking in the future. Not to mention the loss of reliable income. And-"

/What does he know?/ Eddy interrupted the hypothetical chiding. Besides, he'd managed to save up a decent chunk of change since he went straight home from work. Having hyped himself up with the fake disagreement, he huffed and crossed his arms. A sudden wave of heat washed over his body and reddened his face. It was the same feeling he got any time he and Edd would have a real argument. He felt overwhelmingly guilty that most of his thoughts about his best friend recently had been negative. The guy was only looking out for him, after all. Or it could be the six beers he'd guzzled on an empty stomach. He closed his lolling eyes, overcome by a sickening urge to expel something from his gut.

"Ed, am I a bad person?" He instantly regretted blurting out such a desperate question. It was bound to happen when he drank: he became an unbearable sap. Add to that a few healthy smacks of Ed's favorite strain, and he was surprised he hadn't embarrassed himself sooner. Being cautious not to turn his dizzied head too quickly, he checked for a reaction from the red-eyed giant beside him who was adjusting from terrible posture and blinking quizzically.

"Whadja say, Eddy?" He hollered over farcical screaming that accompanied the flashing images on screen.

"Am I a bad person? Like, I dunno evil or somethin'?"

It had been quite some time since Eddy came to Ed clawing for reassurance like this. As kids, and into their early teens, it was fairly a common occurrence. It was clear to his closest friends that Eddy not-so-secretly harbored profound guilt and embarrassment about the avaricious antics of his youth. In their opinion, he'd more than atoned for his actions when he was pummeled mercilessly in front of his entire peer group. But he worried he'd gotten off too easily. When the shame became unbearable, he'd go to Ed with a myriad of troubled questions, as if he were some sort of jaundiced magic eight ball - sometimes even giving his sticky shoulders a shake for good measure.

Once the words finally slogged from his brain to his mouth, Ed slipped into the nostalgic role with ease.

"My sources say no." Two index fingers raised to accentuate his judgement.

"Then I'm a loser, right?" The futon creaked with the sudden movement of Eddy scuttling across the cushion to cling firmly onto the pilled fabric of Ed's hoodie. The stench of alcoholic breath mere inches from his face didn't faze the blissfully blazed Ed.

"Don't count on it."

Eddy's bottom lip bulged out pitifully. Before the malodorous mystic could get back to his entertainment, another question was posed in earnest.

"D'ya think Double Dee hates me?"

Ed crossed his arms and shook his head while the pathetic man stared up through wide eyes.

At this point in the trio’s friendship, Ed was used to Edd and Eddy’s frequent fallings-out and knew the drill: they’d come to blows, ignore each other for a while, and suddenly one day things would be back to normal. Stubborn as they both were, it wasn’t uncommon for their spats to last days, or even weeks. With this being the longest stretch of silence between his friends thus far, Ed was obviously concerned, but knew better than to press the issue. Being the middle man was easy enough, providing the occasional update when they'd inevitably ask about each other over the phone. It was only a matter of time until one of them - usually Eddy - would crack.

"Very doubtful."

Eddy's face pressed hard into his friend's chest, letting out several muffled sobs. Without hesitation, the taller man rubbed his heaving back and rested what chin he had on the accommodating dome below. His one-armed embrace tightened. Loosened by inebriation, Eddy's body melted into the claustrophobic affection. They relished the sentimentality for a while with only the occasional snivel breaking the silence.

"Aww. There, there, little man." Ed smiled and smacked his buddy's back with enough unintentional force to make him flinch.

There had been several of these moments between the boys throughout their years of friendship - something that was unbeknownst to the third member of their trio. Both of his friends were happy to lend Eddy a shoulder, but Ed did so without the garrulous deconstructing and overanalyzing. And it was way less embarrassing to cry in front of the lump.

"Am I a fag?" Eddy sniffled and slipped from Ed's painfully loving grasp, watching the trademark goofy face morph into a facetious pout. He nodded slowly.

"Signs point to yes."

#fic

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voltfruits · 2 years

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fuck it, have some more aubrey omori headcanons because i care about her in the most mentally ill way

she has chinese heritage on her father's side, french on her mother's

bisexual af!!!! had a small crush on mari growing up

always has cold hands. kinda anemic probably

has a very noticeable eye twitch when she gets stressed or angry—it kinda looks that way in some of her headshots ingame

her father was physically abusive, but she would always lie when asked why she had bruises. i think it makes sense considering how touch-averse she is post-timeskip :((

hero and mari were vaguely aware of her rough homelife, but only basil knew the full reality of it, because he'd been her friend the longest. basil being basil, he took that secret to the grave and never told anyone else (also i feel like aubrey would tell basil to keep it a secret because she doesn't want anyone's pity). this is another reason aubrey was so hurt by the blacked-out photo album; basil was the one person who really knew how badly aubrey needed their chosen family, and he was still trying to avoid her rather than support her

okay, a non-angsty one now! aubrey has a surprisingly sophisticated palate! i mean, she canonically loves grilled eggplant which is one of the few things i don't particularly like. she'll eat just about anything really. and she cried actual tears of joy when she got to taste hero's home cooking for the first time after the endgame. ("you don't understand. i've been living off monster energy and gas station hot dogs for the past year. without this salad i am nothing")

she wanted to be a witch when she was little. it was always her go-to halloween costume!! she threatened to put a hex on kel that would make him cough up frogs, and kel had at least one nightmare about it

after mari's death, she started going to the faraway town public library a lot and losing herself in books. it was safer than being home, and people could just exist there without having to spend money or explain themselves or anything, and it reminded her of all the time she spent reading with mari. she stopped going after a year or two because she got into a fight with someone :(

she did a bunch of odd jobs around faraway town to get enough money for food and clothes

after the true ending, one of the first things she does upon leaving the hospital is destroy her nail bat. not really on purpose. she just flies into a rage and pounds it against the wall of an alley until it breaks into splinters.

after that, she goes into a brief but intense depression and doesn't leave her room for 2 days until kel drags her out. around that time, she has a sort of "shit, i need to get my life together" epiphany, and starts applying for actual jobs. she ends up working at fix-it until she graduates high school

she stows away on a freight train to visit sunny in the city and tell him she forgives him. she's the first one to seek him out. a few weeks later she gets kel and hero to drive up with her for a full reunion (minus basil, he'll come later)

hero also teaches her and kel how to drive that summer (way more affordable than an actual driver's ed course). he also gives her some fun tips about cooking!! and general adulting. he is literally a big brother to her and it makes me sob happy tears pls i love them so much

sadly, hero and kel's parents aren't that fond of aubrey. they were vaguely disdainful of her even before mari died ("she's one of those people from the poor neighborhood, isn't she?") and they openly condemn her after her spiral into delinquency. even after she becomes friends with hero and kel again, she isn't allowed into their house... but that doesn't stop her from hanging out with them :)

her mother dies from alcohol poisoning a few months after the true ending. aubrey barely even grieves; as far as she's concerned, she lost both parents years ago. she moves in with polly and basil, who recently got back from the mental hospital and is now homeschooled. things are rocky for a while, but aubrey can stand to be around basil even if she can't fully forgive him. as time goes on, they get more comfortable talking to each other, and aubrey is yet again the first one to really make things right with him and accept his friendship again. the others follow soon :)

she and basil share a lot of clothes!!!! basil likes to wear things on the big and baggy side so they still fit aubrey perfectly

aubrey also teaches basil how to swim :') as well as some basic self defense. and she buys him plants and flowers and treats him to coffee now that she has a steady source of income. i am completely normal about aubrey and basil's friendship please trust me

now that aubrey has a parental figure who actually cares about her, she can finally afford to start going to therapy. she's diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, which does still flare up from time to time, but her symptoms are more manageable than they were before the true ending. she gets more comfortable expressing all her emotions, not just the angry ones, and also gets a lot more comfortable with intimacy and affection, like her younger self

she also starts working out (buff auby my beloved) and playing guitar. she can't sing, but she does it anyway when no one is around

she listens to sonic youth, bikini kill, liz phair, joan jett, and various other icons of 80s and 90s girlboss rock music. she also had an MCR phase when she was 14-15, and i know from experience that once you start having an MCR phase it never truly ends (sunny likes them too!!)

she calls hero on the phone at least once a week. he helps her with her homework sometimes, and she hypes him up and encourages him to socialize and make friends!!

she's really good at most party games (air hockey, cornhole, beach volleyball, etc) and also has a strange knack for winning those claw machine games (she's gotten sunny and basil and kim soooo many stuffed animals). however, she's hilariously bad at video games. she has never won at mariokart in her life

she refuses to touch alcohol, but smokes marijuana every now and then. when she's feeling festive. or super stressed out

she cuts her hair to shoulder-length about a year after the true ending. after she graduates highschool, she stops dying it and lets it return to its natural black, except for one pink streak.

after high school, she moves to the same city where sunny lives and gets an apprenticeship at an auto repair shop. mechanic aubrey is my most beloved headcanon and i will take it with me to the grave. she also gets a motorbike because i say so

she starts spending more time with sunny (he's also doing a lot better; tbh i should make another headcanons post just for him!) and they eventually start dating and move in together :))

years after the endgame, hero tells aubrey that she's become just like mari, or at least a slightly more punk version of mari: a caring, lovable, accomplished, big-sisterly figure whom everybody looks up to. it makes her cry for the first time in years. this feels like the natural conclusion to aubrey's character arc—after years of struggling to control her grief and keep the memory of her best friend alive, she's succeeded in commemorating mari in the best way possible: by fully embodying her spirit.

#consider this my aubrey brainrot masterpost #it has everything #omori #aubrey omori #omori headcanons #volt.txt #damn this got long as hell actually. i should make one for every character

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lucian-evander · 11 months

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wait ur into hp?

Ok so hm how do i answer this.... kinda not really anymore ? Like maybe 3 months ago i started distancing myself from it. Idk i have a complicate relationship with it : not really a big fan of the books in the first place, hp fanfictions were a big part of my life specially (ironically) when i was drowning in depression due to my transphobic family. I was really into the scorbus fandom but all the creators distanced themselves from it due to jkr and it kinda died , and these two last years i was really into percy weasley / oliver wood /marcus flint / penny deauclair very little fandom (basically the same 5 people on tumblr and their headcanons 😂) . I never really agreed with the ''if you don't completely break up with hp you're transphobic '' discourse because honestly I think transphobic people didn't wait jkr to be transphobic and also because most people don't really care about us you know ? and will keep watching and reading hp so like who cares about fanwork. Fanwork doesn't make her money and it's not like if the world will forget hp anytime soon so if it makes people happy idc if they interract with it (+ i saw people harrassing trans people about still liking hp like wtf please that's counterproductive af ? ). But at some point i think for me it just became too associated in my head with jkr and i couldn't enjoy it without thinking about all the transphobic stuff so yeah now i still follow hp blogs and like some stuff but aren't really an hp blog anymore

Oh and before we go further you need to know something : i'm a snape fan.......whoops

#ok wow i just typed a whole book 😂#sorry but i have complicated feelings about it #anyway scorbus is canon #perciver is too and they're in a qpr with marcus #percy is trans bi and autistic #marcus is aro and fraysexual because i say so #oh and sorry not sorry but snape is blorbo 🙃#i mean if you go in my tags that's like 6th one so yeah i used to reblog a lot about it

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bisexualhomelander · 2 months

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I’m greedy af, writer asks:

3, 12, 13, 14, 23, 26, 49.

Also 6 for the fic I don’t remember the title of and now it erased from ao3 😩- I’m talking about the one where HL is a permadepowered depressed wet mop of a man and Ryan is basically taking care of him.

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Pwp? Lmao. No, I'd say things that are characteristic for my fics and not just for my The Boys shit, but also generally, are 1) very humanised characters despite them being very asshole-ish and 2) them experiencing normal everyday stuff they never do in the original. Domesticity brings me to my knees every time.

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

Answered that one, but here we go again: Het ships. Hehe.

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore?

Extreme angst. I was that author who killed off all their characters. Nowadays, I want to save them all. I think I have gone a bit soft with age. I'd like a happy ending for every character. Maybe not in the right fandom for this at the moment? But I will simply bend the plot to my will. I don't give a fuck. They will all be alive and happy.

14. Are there any tropes you would only read if written by a trusted friend or writer?

My particular brand of kink. I have two kinds of smut I read/write: kinky stuff I am not into in RL but sounds interesting. Kinky stuff I AM into. No. 1 I will consume from everyone. With No. 2, I am very picky. As many have probably already figured out by now, it's softdomming and age play stuff.

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

Many years ago, I had a quite large Hannibal Game of Thrones thing going on. I have it all figured out, gave all the characters their roles, but then never wrote it because it was a daunting thing. I'd still like to finish it. Alternately, Butchlander mpreg, but you have already got that covered, so thanks for that :D

I also have a fic centered around Mirrorlander that I ironically called "objects in mirror are closer than they appear" and is mostly a workplace comedy about Mirrorlander wanting to play a more central role in the Vought company and failing miserably by... not being used to controlling their shared body outside of high-stress situations. I will probably never finish this fic, mostly because I feel slightly guilty over abusing a trauma response for shits and laughs.

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

Okay, now this is actually funny because I start out every fic with only dialogue. I write my fics the way screenwriters write for episodes. The dialogue comes first, and the "stage direction" later. So all my fics begin with just spoken word.

Generally, I would like to write a fic with just dialogue. It sounds like an interesting task because you have to convey all emotions via dialogue, including the motions the characters go through, by indicating exhaustion or pain etc. Sounds fascinating. I think I might want to do that one day.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

I am working on one more PWP before I go back to finishing the Ryan fic you were mentioning. It's called "Good Press". It's mostly a oneshot about Billy maybe-perhaps filming a fuck session with Homelander and livestreaming it to his fans? But maybe not? It's about the thrill of humiliating a supe more than anything. Should be finished soon. And once that is out of my system, there will be more son boy.

Here's the starting lines:

Billy gave the guards in front of the door a shit-eating grin. "Mornin', gentlemen. Lemme have a talk with the boss real quick, would ya?" He could see their trigger fingers twitch in unison. That William Butcher was now a guest at the Tower annoyed them personally, but the only thing they were uneasy about more than him was crossing Homelander. So they stayed silent, staring stoically at the wall.

Homelander stood by the V-shaped desk, arms behind his back, frame lit by the light of day coming in through the windows. At some invisible sign, the sliding doors behind Billy closed.

"This place soundproof?" he asked as he looked around. Surprisingly enough, there were no cameras in the meeting room at all. Just the screens, and they were all turned off.

"It is, mostly. For humans."

"Any cameras? I mean, 'part from the ones I put there myself."

Homelander smiled at his words.

Also, the Ryan depowered dad story WILL be reposted, but I will repost it as a oneshot concept fic once I have all the chapters finished. As for in-universe info, there's not a lot I don't already mention apart from this little thing: I have no idea how anyone visualises Homelander in this fic, but he really just looks like scraggly bearded Antony Starr during his off-season. If anyone follows his socials, that one picture he shared with those smol doggos? That's the one. Yes, there is a bit of grey in HL's beard now. Yes, he is freaking out over it.

#ask game #thank you for the ask!!

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poupeesdecirque · 11 months

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Personal & Project Updates!

First of all:

This blog runs on queue most of the time, I am checking it daily but work eats me.

I can’t get into details but some of you know I changed classes in begin of April and am trying to adjust to the new schedule but shit hit the fan and I had to overtake my old class ON TOP of the new class without a proper assisstant for the latter two weeks ago. I am super exhausted, my social batteries are drained af and i can’t really engage in hobby interactions right now, even managing things that are basic are hard (I get cooking going though). I am working 4 hours less a month after the summer break if ... I am really working my regular hours, we will see.

That on top of me being super sensitive to the summer temperatures and seasonal depression just leaves a hefty mess.

I do stress art, I put it into the blog. That’s why there is content. I need to get the steam out somewhere and there is a point reached every day where sports isn’t doing the trick anymore as my body is just like “heck pls rest for ONCE” ... therefore... tinkering here and there.

I’m glad people like a lot of the things I did in the past weeks, find them inspiring or nice to look at. The queue is always a surprise bag for me, reminding me “hey you did this cool thing, you had progress” every day while digging through the mess my life currently is.

And now for the art/blog related stuff:

Just as a list for myself to remind me I have... things going on.

1. The Earl - Self sculpted head

Has top priority in doll regards, I am currently back at working on the head itself.

2. Rooms

For the rooms I am rearranging the last furniture (had a huge furniture building weekend last weekend), I am trying to find a spot for everything, figuring out who moves in which display and what things to display and all

+ making displays, room boxes etc. for now priority is the ‘living room’/’office’ to focus on one room to get less overwhelmed

3. Dolls

Fizz is the next to be sewn for, I got his fabrics, but nothing more as I focus on the Earl first.

Edward will get a face up.

Once all layaways are paid off and the rooms/my car are not eating my funds I will start getting bodies for the rolling heads.

Rolling heads at home that will get bodies (order of priority): Kanda, Lenalee, Sokrates, “A.”. Later on: Lavi, Bookman, depends on arrival then.

4. Cosplay

I want to make another cosplay for the next convention I aim to work on it during my summer break, that means more focus on something for myself, lesser on the dolls.

5. Drawing

I still stick to finish 5 drawings per week. Sometimes even more, I do stress art, therefore I am drawing a lot.

6. Writing

I do write daily right now but nothing I want to publish. I aim to get the next chapter of ‘Secrets’ done hopefully in June

7. Photobooks

Two more are due to get printed in end of June

8. Weekly photos

I am trying hard to keep that challenge up, drawing and writing is my main focus for stress art right now, though I wake up super early and use the sunrise for pics

I am trying to think of the doll birthdays I have coming up (both 10 years)

9. ...??

I am sure there is more lol but yeah. Shit will keep my mind busy.

#blog

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wrathfulrook · 9 months

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I just read your TGA fic on ao3, It was such a cool and interesting read and i know in the summary/notes you said you specifically experienced this! I’m glad you’re okay!! (And the one shot was really good i loved it and the way john treats the situation!!)

Thank you so much!

I wasn't too worried about my episode at the time, actually. I'd assumed it was due to my injuries. (The cliff is 70 ft high and I ended up so bruised and sore from hitting the water that I didn't get out of bed for two days and then I didn't even know I cracked a rib until weeks later when everything else had healed lol.) Apparently transient global amnesia actually quite traumatic for a lot of people but I was lucky and had a reason that I thought it had happened, instead of just having amnesia for no obvious reason. I didn't even know what TGA was until like a month ago, six years after my episode. I read an article and was like oh. Oops. The water I hit was 30-odd degrees... that checks.

The line Patience opens with, "I don't mean to freak you out but I don't know anything" is what I opened with. I knew my friends' names and that we worked together with animals but I didn't know what kind (chimpanzees. I'm a primatologist lol idk why I didn't assume primates...). I knew I was out west, but didn't know what state (Tamolitch Blue Pool is in Oregon). I wanted to call my mom because I was upset and confused but the Blue Pool is the middle of nowhere, so I had no service. I wanted to know why I jumped off a cliff (I was afraid it was a suicide attempt lmao depression). And I was apparently very preoccupied about where my new yellow converse were. It's all very fascinating and googling and reading people's first hand accounts of TGA is fascinating as hell...

You can't recall recent memories from days to weeks before it happens and you can't form any new memories at all. Then after a few hours you start remembering that it happened and think you're fine but still can't form new memories. So a lot of people, me included apparently, tell the story to anyone who will listen and be like wow isn't that crazy! Good thing I'm better now! Except that you tell that story and say that repeatedly for hours. But then it usually stops after a few hours and ALWAYS stops within 24 hours. And then you're fine and have no more issues or any lasting complications. A TGA episode has no ties to future strokes, dementia, disease, anything. It's wild.

Sorry for rambling... I just think it's so fascinating. Especially that I just rolled with it for years without a second thought lmao. (Sorry for rambling. It's cleaning day so I'm high...)

Anyway tl;dr TGA is interesting af and John Seed is very sexy and manipulative :) Thank you for reading my fic!

#personal #high tag #transient global amnesia #tga #oc: patience ekner

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animeangelriku · 1 year

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Slash Ships to Get to Know Me

Thank you to the delightful @davidbowielovesyou for tagging me in this!!

Rules: Name at least five (but no upper limit) slash (M/M) ships you love. Each from a different fandom.

Damn, right now I’m thinking I can’t quite possibly get to five ships, but let’s see how we do!

1. Puzzleshipping (Yugi Mutou/Atem (Yami Yugi) from Yu-Gi-Oh!)

Look. I know it doesn’t look like it makes any sense, but I promise you it does. And even if that’s my biased brain talking, that’s fine. These two were my first ship, more than fifteen years ago, at this point, and I legitimately and literally owe them my life. They will always hold a very special and very dear place in my heart.

2. The Ineffable Husbands (Aziraphale/Crowley from Good Omens)

I read the book like half a year before the show aired and thought there was a lot of potential there, but told myself not to get my hopes up. Then the show came out and fucking blew me out of the water, and now I have these two dumbass idiots tattooed on my arm. The pining! The yearning!!! YOU GO TOO FAST FOR ME, CROWLEY!!! Excuse me while I go cry. Also, “ineffable husbands” is just a cute af title, don’t @ me.

3. Linus Baker/Arthur Parnassus (from The House in the Cerulean Sea)

I read this book last year and it took over my life. Linus just called to me as a character, and I related so hard to him from the very first chapters, and it was just an absolute delight to follow him on his journey to finding the love and family he wants. The way these two love each other just does things to me, man, I’m only human!

4. Achilles/Patroclus (specifically from Hades)

Listen. LISTEN. I was obsessed with Greek mythology as a teen, so when Hades came out, I bought it only after I found out that there was a side-quest for reuniting Achilles and Patroclus in the afterlife. Their devotion to each other has pushed me to tears on occasion. Besides, I’m of the mind that old gay men deserve to be happy and to make out as much as they want to.

EDIT: I COMPLETELY MISSED THE PART WHERE IT SAID M/M SHIPS, WHY AM I SO BLIND DKBFKJBFADSKLFBKD

5. Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor (from Red, White & Royal Blue)

I have become OBSESSED with this book and with this couple specifically. They fall into bed before they fall in love, but when they fall in love? It is WILD, and INTENSE, and it honestly made me so fucking happy because I’ve rarely read the kind of love story they have, and the fact that it’s a queer love story just watered my crops and (temporarily) cured my depression. I have spent my free time reading fanfics for these two for like the past three weeks. A month? Time is unreal, but you get the idea.

Tagging (but please only if you want to) @sodiumazideandothertoxins, @cassieoh, @hkblack, @kamikazeworld, @thegreyscalerainbow, and anyone else who wants to do this!!

#tag you're it #tagged you're it #puzzleshipping #ineffable husbands #linus baker/arthur parnassus #patrochilles #alex claremont diaz/henry fox

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bloughjobs · 5 months

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Life and Love

Feeling nostalgic and weird. These last few days, I've been going through a ton of old messages and posts from 8-10 years ago. It is such a strange feeling to see how time comes and goes without you realizing how much everything has changed, and then suddenly you’re living a completely different life.

Ten years ago today, I was broken into so many excruciating pieces over a boy who couldn't even decide if he still loved me after not seeing me for a whole 7 days… LOL. Can you believe it? I really thought I'd be depressed (or at least alone) forever.

But fuck, I am so HAPPY I took the chance to change everything and experience real love. I'm doing everything I dreamed of and said I'd do back then, and I'm doing it with the true love of my life.

More and more often, I find myself stopping simply just to think about how unbelievably grateful I am to live the life I do. I truly am living my dream with my favorite person in the world, and we have a connection that I’ve never experienced before. We've made it so that we've gotten to spend virtually every minute together for the last 7.5+ years, playing and working with each other in a multitude of different places. We’ve lived in tents, campers, a van, a yurt, a cabin, fancy pool house, a barn, 2 apartments, and now we have our own 3-bedroom HOUSE with a finished basement and screened in porch. It is so cool to have experienced all of these different ways of living together all over the country, and I’m excited to see what comes next!

So many new experiences with a vast amount of free time and few responsibilities while we are still young af; seriously, what is better than this?

I can genuinely say I have the kind of relationship I always knew could exist between two people, but which I could never find in the couples around me growing up. How I was fortunate enough to not only find something so rare and precious, but also to find it at such a young age, I'll never know. He's shown me what it is to be truly loved by another person, to be their sole priority, always. To never have to wonder if he's changing his mind or thinking about anyone else, ever. To be safe in another person.

I've found what every person dreams of, but very few ever actually find: my best friend, lover, protector, life partner in all things. I wish everyone could experience a love and life like ours. I don't ever want to take this for granted, so I will soak up every minute of our existence together.

I guess I just wanted to document these thoughts because I don't post a lot of updates on my life anymore. I actually don't believe I still even have any followers who know me in real life. So this is mostly just for myself lol. But if you're creeping and knew me 10 years ago, and happen to be very bored, maybe you'll have enjoyed reading this.

#love #life #nostalgia

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nezoriy · 1 year

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a view from my window at around 3am

kyiv, 2022. the moon is the brightest source of light bc half an hour ago the electricity was cut off.

and it’s planned cut-off which is cool! now after almost 2 weeks i can make plans again. but these plans also revolve around having electricity and any kind of connection 6-12 hours a day (after 23th nov strike we went without electricity and mobile connection for two days) and you can’t imagine how i hate this

i want y’all to remember that even when the ukrainians you might be following are posting gifs and fan arts of their otps, they are not okay. none of us are.

with my electricity thing I’m honestly just mildly inconvenienced and still i almost am unable to work and i’m depressed af

you’re being tired of our war? yeah dude so are we. trust me on that.

idk where im going with this. i’m drunk and sad. i just want y’all to remember that we are people and our personal stories matter. we fucking matter. we’re not a statistic of victims. we are people writing your fics discussing with you our otps and drawing arts. even here in kyiv where we are most safe and privileged we’re not leading a normal life. and probably will not for years to come.

also yeah. i shoot and wrote this on monday but i couldn’t post this thing then bc the internet was down together with electricity and tuesday i spent in a 15-hours-long depressive nap

support ukraine and donate if you can idk honestly i’m just sadly rambling here

#ukraine #stas in kyiv #kyiv #stand with ukraine #russia is a terrorist state #українцівтамблері #укртамблер #укртумбочка #україна #слава україні

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valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn · 1 year

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The importance of the investment the viewers have in the characters. It's not enough for the recognize them but to know them. NWH works because it's Tobey and Andrew, it them it's Spider-Mans people know.

Who does DSMoM have that people know? A bunch of alternate versions of characters people recognize but don't really know. Mister Fantastic people recognize but this isn't a version people have any investment in. It's confirmed not even to be the same Captain Carter from what if and Black Bolt, and no even like Inhumans in the first place.

Xavier is the closest, the X-Men movie are such a hodgepodge mess though it again just another version. But at the least Patrick Stewart performance is consistent. If these characters die turn against the hero who cares? There's no weight.

That's a problem with using variants, they're disposable. And you can't just replace character the audience had grown to care about

Oh man, I think Charles in MoM is the best example.

That wonderful line of "Just because someone stumbles, loses their way, doesn't mean they're lost forever" carries so much weight and it's not only because it sounds good, it's a direct callback to Days of Future Past's perfect allegory of depression where Young Charles needs to see there's hope, that he can help and save other mutants, that his life means something, that he can turn all that pain inside his head into something good, something productive that will heal him and others.

That scene is perfect, emotional, it matters. It's a huge thing for Charles at that point in the story and it ties to Raven and Erik beautifully.

In MoM it means nothing. It's a callback to a movie released years ago, it makes no freaking sense because Stephen isn't stumbling (if anything he's the only one sane in that room) and they just wanted Charles to say that to nudge the audience "look! it's the same Charles!". As you say, we recognize him but there's nothing there.

It takes some balls to turn something so meaningful and beautiful into a dumb af memeable scene. But that's what variants and cameos are for these days, they don't bring anything to the table. Variants are defined by one action, they rarely get the chance to speak up and give their part of the story and they're discarded as quickly as they're introduced.

I couldn't agree more about NWH, it works because it's Andrew and Tobey. Get two guys we don't know and haven't seen before and the hype dies right down.

You can't tell the audience to like someone, you have to make us care and like them. And by having a bunch of guys from other movies show up then die 3 minutes later you think we're going to care? How are we going to be fans of a character we don't know?! 🤔

It's kind of ironic I guess. Phase Four has way too much content but not enough characterization.

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eldesperadont · 2 years

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Ahhh sorry that it took a lil, @sybilius (thank you!!) tagged me in this lil questionnaire so here we go

relationship status: lonely as hell 🥲

favourite color: hmm a really saturated pink and red, black eventho its technically not a colour

favourite food: upper austrian sticky potato dumplings 🥔

song stuck in your head: <3

last thing you googled: "Interview with a Cryptid Hunter (2018)" after hunting down what i was even looking for, a video i watched two years ago, wanted to rewatch it but its privated now

time: 2:03am cause i don't have a sleep rhythm

dream trip: currently probably traveling to the states for a big wrestling event and to meet some friends over there if possible, fixation aside: would love to see more of northern europe, preferably without all my anxiety issues and together with some friends

last book you read: the first welcome to nightvale novel (but its been a while and i haven't gotten around to finish any book since then, reading's kinda hard for me)

last book you enjoyed: same ^

last book you hated reading: some weirdass novel i had to read for a high school project thats basically about what if Charlie Chaplin and Winston Churchill were friends and they are both depressed af

favorite thing to bake/cook: hmmm i guess the same 3-4 meals i make myself every week; i wish i had more energy for baking and cooking

most niche dislike: ... I guess some very specific textures i can't handle and despise, just thinking about it makes me cringe

opinion on the circus: its cool, as long as there isnt any kind of mistreatment - havent been to on in over 10 years

do you have a sense of direction: absolutely not.

Tagging: just if you want to 🙌 @feralmox @dogcollarpunk @momdailykos @madnessinjelly @strugglingcygnus and anyone else who wants to

#percht.txt

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rose-of-tori · 2 years

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WIP Tag Game

Rules: Posting a list of current writing works in progress. Feel free to ask me for info on any of them, whether snippets of writing, plot details, main characters, etc. Send me a work listed below and I’ll share something related to it. ;)

many many thanks to @rose-nebulijia for tagging me!! Tbh my writing life has been chaotic af lately, but hopefully I can buckle down on 1 project at some point lol

things I'm working on (or thinking about but not actually working on because that's who I am at the moment...)

Rot (DMBJ). Putting this one here since I haven't finished writing the last chapter yet, even though most of it is published. No lie this story totally consumed me for like a month. It was supposed to be super horror/supernatural, along the lines of The Guest, but it became a lot more low key creepy/unsettling vibes? Took me a while to stop being disappointed in it for not being what I intended, but I finally started to just appreciate it as is.

Da Qing/Shen Wei friendship quest thing (Guardian) that I started thinking about nearly a year ago and have written NOTHING for so far lol But I need more of these two being kickass awesome bros who bond over the hardships of dealing with ZYL on a daily basis.

A super depressing Wu Xie/Pangzi friendship thing that takes place during Xiaoge's time behind the gate. This whole thing literally spawned out of one line in Rot and explores the difficulties PangXie's friendship endured during that time.

PingXie ghost AU. I went to a spooky fiction writing panel a few weeks ago and one of the writers said being a ghost is basically being in a constant limbo of slowly losing your sense of self and my whole brain screeched to a halt and I mentally slammed my hand on the table and screamed XIAOGE THE SAD AMNESIAC GHOST. So that's a thing now.

Now that I'm done with uni (8 years and 4 degrees later *weeps in student*) and I don't really have a job yet (*weeps in adult*) I'm hoping to devote more time to writing. There's several on this list that are so nebulous they're not worth mentioning, because my brain keeps generating more and more even as I frantically try to get all the ideas down and beg for it to stop.

Feel free to ask me about any of these or hmu if you need a sounding board for your own ideas. I want to talk writing with people, you feel me?

tagging with no pressure: @laireshi @alxina @pissmeoffanddie @intheyellowandgreen @daydreamorama @achray1 @eirenical (sorry if anyone was double tagged!)

#fanfiction #writing #dmbj #why can i never focus on one project #why am i like this #Fuzz Fics

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aris-ink · 1 year

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You can do whatever you want, but I won't shut up about this 😉💚 and you should have documents because you might be hard-core, but you're still cute af 🥰

I suppose if you can't hear me, that'll have to change 🤨 I'm not and that's the end of it 😌🫶🏻

PLEASE DKKFKFKFK, not it being both, I'm sorry, my love 😭 especially hearing that you rarely sleep, if ever. I can imagine it's hell because I used to sleep in intervals, but I'd remain completely exhausted, and I didn't have sleeping pills or anything like that to go by. I tried nature sounds and sleeping mists, and the likes to help me 😭 but I'm glad the sleeping pills works wonders for you, love. That's great! Have you done what you needed to do this morning? And you've got nothing for tomorrow morning? That sucks you went to bed late and couldn't take your pills as a result of that, but at least you'll be able to sleep on time tonight! The uncomfortable nap doesn't sound pleasant in the slightest 😭 and please!!! You need to stop doing that to yourself lately, but good, I'll be happy if you take them tonight 🥰🫶🏻 and I'm so touched you think as much!? That's really sweet of you to say. I'm glad I don't anymore either 🫂 and I do, to some extent! I mean, I sleep late and wake up early, but that's because it's on me these days KDKKDKD 💚 and you're welcome, beautiful 💕

so anyways you absolute cutie 💕

hahah 💖

oh no... 😔 gosh that's awful. it's similar for me. I've had nightmares since I was a little girl, insomnia though, that's a bit more recent. I tried a lot of things as well but nothing worked, so around two years ago I mentioned the nightmares and the trouble falling and staying asleep to the psychiatrist who was treating me for depression. he gave me sleeping pills and I had no idea I was this unwell until I actually tried them and finally got a good night's rest like a normal person 😭 I can't sleep without them, especially because pain can often wake me up as well LMAO, I'm like a grandma. (it's the life with fibromyalgia 💖)

but it's just the truth! 😩 it's so horrible when you can't rest at night, not to mention constant nightmares can be so difficult to deal with and awful for your mental health 😔 and usually these things don't start for no reason either... I'm so sorry you had to deal with that, but I'm really really glad to hear you're doing well now 😔❤️ I'm sending you the biggest hug ever and all my love ❤️🫂

thank YOU so much 🥺❤️ it's so nice to be able to talk about this and be understood, and you're so sweet and wonderful 🥺💕

#asks #my love #uncomfortable over sharing time with ari!💖#sorry shdhwhshs

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