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diejager · 8 months

Note

begging for more monster 141🙏🙏🙏

hear me out- reader is a host to venom but has it hidden and they find out maybe…?

(i got hyper fixated on blue’s au and SCOURING the internet💀)

What if… Hunter was Venom?

Pairing: Monster Task Force 141 + König & Horangi x venom reader

Cw: blood and gore, canon typical violence, head eating, gaslighting by Hunter, injury, fighting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.4k

Only Human masterlist

Sometimes, they’d find you mumbling to yourself, voice so low that, unless they were a hybrid or had impeccable hearing, they wouldn’t be able to hear it. It was a ne’er silent whisper of harsh words or soft coos towards a being they couldn’t see. Were you talking to someone on your headset? Were you wearing EarPods to talk to someone? Or had you lost some screws in your mind after working with them for so long? None of them truly knew, but they wouldn’t bother you with it when you never bothered them with pesky questions that sounded insulting to them. After all, why would they bother their adorably useful and resourceful medic? You were the beating heart of the Task Force, you made it whole and functioning. Yet, they couldn’t stop the curiosity that festered in their mind, the need to know what made you talk to yourself, mumbling and cursing when you were alone.

Nothing seemed out of order, you were still strong-headed and scolding them like you did the day before, mumbling about Soap’s recklessness and Gaz’s impending fate of falling out of airborne vehicles. About Price’s habit of working too hard, pushing his already pained body to work. Pulling Ghost by the - bloody and soiled - sleeve to your infirmary with a deep frown and eyes glinting with the promise of retribution for the hybrid that hid whatever ailed him from you; you were the medic for Pete’s sake! It was your duty to watch over them. Hounding Alejandro for his medical check after a deployment because, as handsome and dependable as he was, he liked hiding his wounds. Running after Rudy for his checkups while he was limping or trying to avoid you. Calling after Horanji for his share of the affection, needle, scalpel, bandage and all, he needed and deserved all the others received. Or sitting beside König, reminiscing about your early days, where taking care of your patients was as easy as taking care of König was, grateful and pliant, showering you with love and adoration before, during and after the procedures.

You had your plate full with them, so it’d be unheard of if you had time to care for others. You might’ve been a medic on base, but your priorities and loyalties lay with them, with Task Force 141 and its allies. However being a - their - medic, didn’t mean you were free from any pain, fear or quirkiness as they were. You were as weird and as awful as every single one of them was, wearing it pridefully on your chest when you stood with them; even if you were wholly human - or you were supposed to.

Ghost caught fleeting moments where a dark mass would move around you, a glistening blob of marble-like texture with silver rivers running across it. It was near impossible to see it when it would disappear once it felt - even the slightest indication - the presence of another living being, like an illusion of trick of the light. That’s what you told them, it was simply a trick of the light or something because you didn’t know anything about an ugly blob. It was told slowly and persuasively with a wince once the words “ugly blob” left your mouth, a pained grimace as if something was grating your ears or claws were digging into your mind. When he brought it up with Gaz - who had impeccable eye-sight, the harpy would agree, spewing words about it having a menacing face with wide, pointed eyes and a mouth full of teeth. Big and sharp teeth that seemed alien-like. It couldn’t have been the trick of the light, especially since both of them saw the same thing. They asked you once more, together this time, but you’d reassured them that they were both tired when they’d seen this blob. You were tired and sometimes saw moving forms from the corner of your eyes too, so it might’ve been hysteria - collective hysteria.

Soap, if he tried hard enough, would sometimes hear a deep voice echo around you. It wasn’t something disturbingly deep, or annoyingly alien, it was pleasingly deep with a smooth undertone to its growls. It would send chills up his spine when he heard it, but he would always catch your voice talking back to it. He’d hear hisses and curses, some more unusual and others more normal: “I can’t eat my teammates!”, “I told you no!”, “Stop eating heads! People will catch on!” or “Can you shut up?” and “I can’t concentrate with you screaming my head off!” Soap, knowing how good Alejandro’s hearing was, asked if the Mexican had heard you speak with an unknown voice, specifically a male voice. A few muffled conversations between you and an unknown man and sometimes one-sided, but, simply put, Alejandro had witnessed the same occasions as the Scot had. It wasn’t unusual to talk to yourself, would it? Soap liked to boost his own morale with confident words and flattering compliments to himself. Alejandro wasn’t a stranger to mumbling to himself either, cursing his choice in life and how he ended up with his - lovable - problem-causing band of vagabonds.

If you weren’t careful or unintentionally careless, there would be a distinct odour clinging to your skin. It would be strong and pungent, the smell fresh and metallic-like. König knew it well, he craved as much as he wanted to bathe in it, the sweet smell of blood. How could he not recognize the faintest whiff of blood when it often drove him mad with bloodlust and the uncontrollable need to fall into a daze of primal hunger? It stuck to you like a second layer of skin, thin and always present. It sewed into the fundamentals of your scent, the tinge of iron mixed into the sweet, syrupy musk. It drove him mad with need, thirsting for the thing that made you smell so delicious. It clung to you as if you bathed in blood, drinking and devouring it, yet your skin was clean, with no speck of red under your nails, on your skin or between your teeth. In a worry, he went to Price, The Captain had the most knowledge about you and König could trust him to take good care of him, being a dragon. He expected the Brit to know something, even the slightest change, but Price hadn’t caught anything odd about you. Perhaps it clung to you because of your closeness to him, Percht hybrids - although rare - were ferociously unpredictable and ravenously bloodthirsty.

Rudy was the more human of them, so he caught on to the changes in behaviours and habits of others easily. You’d act odd at times, shoulders slightly tense and back slumped inward, body tired but unable to relax. He wanted to help, he proposed, but you’d turned him down, telling him you were fine, that you were just restless from being off duty for so long or for being worked to the bone. He would also catch you subtly avoiding them without ringing any bells, seeming occupied with other things while whispering under your breath; your slower reactions to their banter and the darker bags under your eyes, wearing that dazed and blank look in them while you sat with them; or the strong growl of your stomach and the slight rubbing of your stomach, soothing an ache that rooted so deeply in your abdomen. He worried, often, if he was honest. Even Horangi, a man oblivious to most cues and behaviours in humans, saw the subtle change in your behaviour when you acted odd. He pointed out the rings under your eyes, your fatigued and distracted mind, and your lip-gnawing hunger. For a hybrid that had so much difficulty grasping and understanding humans, he caught on to your change abnormally quickly, even with the excessive chocolate consumption.

They were all suspicious and you, their sweet and convincing medic, had them doubting what they saw, your gaslighting working on them as easily as a child bribed with candy. It didn’t make you feel less guilty or disappointed in yourself, but you weren’t sure how they’d react to him, not being human or a monster. He was a creature out of the pages of a sci-fi novel, a creation of the human mind and imagination. Venom was an alien, something from outer space. You were convincing until you couldn’t anymore.

Let me take over, the soothing voice uttered to you, calling out your name in a concerned tone. Let me protect you.

You were compromised, the enemy had tapped into your line, listening in on your conversations and movements. That’s how they were able to separate most of you, to turn the squad of nine operators down to four smaller teams, all on the run and trying to stick to the shadows without calling to the others through the comms. You were crouched over Gaz, whispering sweet nothings to the hissing man. You soothed his ache, hand and mind strained on the bleeding wound on his forearm, his beautiful, bronze skin stained with crimson in the hot and humid air of Columbia.

Blood rolled down his tense arm, over his round muscle and sweaty skin, it was a clean graze, the blunt head of the bullet grazing his arm deep enough for it to bleed but shallow enough for it not to leave him incapacitated with blood loss. It was a ray of light in your dreadful situation. You had his wound cleaned and wrapped up, congratulating him for pushing through and helping him up. You cursed the enemy, wondering how the low-stake in-and-out ops suddenly turned out to be an extremely high-stake one with minimal possibility of reaching the evacuation point.

“C’mon Gaz, we need to move,” you whispered to him, holding your rifle closely to your chest while you walked around the shadows of Guaitarilla’s back alley and dark corners. “We need to regroup at the evacuation point.”

“Yeah, good plan,” he nodded, following your lead even though he was higher-ranked than you, but in such situations, survival was the priority.

You stuck to alleys, using the shadows to hide from the patrolling cartel that had the town surrounded, it nearly baffled you with the speed of their defences and counter-attack if you hadn’t heard of Las Almas’ attack from El Sin Nombre and The Shadows from you teammates. Although you couldn’t admire them, you could respect their skills and ability, you only wished it was for you rather than against you.

While you watched ahead, Gaz had your back, peering around the corner before giving him the green to move. It was a rotation between who went first and who looked back, but you made it work with only you both. You were so careful, yet it somehow wasn’t enough, someone had noticed you and it sent you and Gaz rushing for cover, to escape the group of dispatched cartel members. It was stupid, running without looking where you were heading towards. It was stupid to let the enemy tap into your comms. It was stupid, the situation you got yourself into.

You were backed into a corner, Gaz standing before you like a protective shield between you and the enemy, his rifle pointed toward the quickly advancing group. You wanted to protest about him using his wings to cover you, his wide, brown feathers expanded to hide you from those men. He was already hurt from pulling you away from harm, but he was now standing protectively before you. You couldn’t let him get hurt because of you, not anymore.

Little One, his voice rang once more in your head, the reassuring pressure of his presence in your body calming you down by an inch. Let me take over.

If you let him take control of your body, it would ensure your and Gaz’s safety, then you could reach the others that you’d lost in the chaos of the battle. While you wore the combat medic’s patch proudly, your prior training before taking up your 16 weeks of medical training wasn't lost to you. You remembered how to aim and shoot, how to snipe an enemy from afar and protect your teammates from whatever danger you faced. None were lost to you, and you’d use every bit of training you had to protect them, whether it was as yourself or with Venom’s help. Venom’s help was undoubtedly useful, and right now, you needed him.

“Please, Venom,” you spoke aloud, your soft voice carrying through the blocked alley.

“Who-” Gaz asked, confusion laced his tone, the question left unspoken as Venom’s deep, rattling voice boomed across the tight space.

“We are Venom, flesh bag,” he growled, body crouching down, not dissimilar to a feline laying prone while it waited for the right moment to attack, and pounced at the men.

Don’t call Gaz flesh bag, Venom, you whined, your voice echoing in your shared subspace of your mind.

“If that is what you wish.”

His heavy mass landed on a man, pushing him to the ground with a loud crack. You imagined that Venom either broke his back or a few of the Colombian’s ribs, it was sickeningly delightful, the sadistic pleasure from Venom sent you reading with mirth. His hands stretched to abnormal lengths to swing at the enemies with practised ease and familiarity. Whether they’d die from blunt force trauma from Venom’s strength or live with a concussion, none mattered to him, hunger raked his being, the throb aching in the back of his mind. It was a moment where he was let loose, where you wouldn’t need to gorge on an extreme amount of chocolate to keep him fed. This would keep him satisfied for a few weeks.

Venom pulled the first two in, his jaw widening to clamp down on their neck. Gaz saw the dangerous gleam of Venom’s teeth, rows of pristine and immaculate teeth the size of a finger bled the man’s head red in a single bite. He shivered at the decapitated body that fell from your monster’s hand as he went for the second and third Colombian. He made a show of viciousness and raw, unadulterated bloodthirst with his eating. Fortunately, apart from the bloody mess and dead bodies, Venom was a relatively neat eater, licking his teeth clean from the red stains with a long, slimy tongue. Gaz couldn’t shake how your monster made him apprehensive, his body flinching and trembling at the greater being.

“Let’s go, The Little One wants to rescue the others,” Venom’s grating voice shook Gaz out of his stupor.

“Hu-Hunter’s there?”

Venom nodded, his mass retreating into your body, the mass melting into you like a second skin. It was as if Venom was never there, as if it was all his delusional imagination. Gaz rushed to you, his hands grabbing hold of you as he shook you in his grasp, he cursed in worry, concern lacing every word he spewed in a tornado of fear, curiosity and confusion. His soft feathered wings cradled you, casting a protective shadow over you as you hid in the darkness of the alley.

“Gaz, we have to go,” you murmured to him, your voice soft and reassuring, trying to help him walk off the edge you were pushed to. You both were safe for now, the cartel that had followed you all laid dead without their heads in a thick puddle of their viscera. “We have to find the others.”

He let out a shaky sign, his head nodding in affirmation at your comforting words. He loved that about you, that ability to heal and mend their ache and anguish with a smile and sweet words. Then, pairing your softness with your stubborn viciousness made you a gem within the military, a one-in-a-million for them. Yet, all that clouded his mind were questions, about your safety, about that monster that melted into you, about what kind or what it was. Gaz had so many questions that he’d push back for the greater good of rescuing the rest of the Task Force, he’d hound you for answers later when everyone was back together.

When Venom resurfaced, retaking control of your shared body, he’d reassured you that he knew where they were, his body being hyper-aware of the things that made you smile and laugh. You were his host and his joy. It was an easier job than the two of you - you and Gaz - had expected, Venom’s claws digging into the buildings as he scaled the walls to reach the roof. From then, he pulled nothing back, rushing forward with the same enthusiasm as König had when he led first, and leaped, the muscles of his legs pushing him high across the buildings with Gaz flying beside him.

Venom had made quick work of the situation, his body invulnerable to anything but loud sounds and fire, which none had since it was a rainy night. You found Horangi and Alejandro first, Venom doing what he knew best: protecting you, in relation, what you loved too, and feeding on human heads, the chemicals in the human brains nurturing him. Alejandro and Horangi were naturally confused and distrustful of Venom, but you had Gaz to smooth things over, and knowing that Venom’s way of speaking was curt and up-to-point - annoyingly blunt - it made your body soar with relief. They, albeit confused and curious, followed you from the ground as Venom cleared a path to the next ones.

Price, Rudy and Soap were the biggest team from your unexpected separation. They jumped at Venom’s appearance, Soap throwing threats at him when he took a step towards them. That was expected, Venom - even being the symbiote you were hosting - was a stranger to them and Soap reacted according to his instincts. That blaring, red light that signalled his brain to send his body on complete guard about the danger, Venom couldn’t escape a werewolf’s keen situational awareness. You’d taken the initiative to calm them down, seeing as everyone was already down, the enemy loaded with bullets and dying in a pool of their blood. You kept the explanation short and simple, giving them the important points before promising to tell Price everything he wanted to know after you found Ghost and König.

Those two were harder to find, forcing Venom to extend himself to sense the slightest presence of either man. It couldn't be easier that Ghost was a wraith, being able to disappear and appear at will and that König knew very well how to hide, perhaps as well as Ghost could. When Venom found them, Ghost shot first, “shoot first, questions later” seemed to lead his decisions with König not far behind him. He brought his arms forward to protect himself and you, hidden within his mass. Venom growled but didn’t attack them, hissing the words you spoke to him to them. It was a simple quote that you’d shared with them in situations where they needed to find you between the hostages or under disguise.

Like calls to like.

It was simple, but telling. They stopped the moment Venom uttered them, knowing well you were inside Venom, Gaz landing before him and the others steadily arriving behind the two. Task Force 141 was finally complete, from the most humane to the most chaotic hybrid, some were hurt, grazed, protrusions, and stabbed, but all were alive. You were glad, you were really, really happy that everyone was safe and alive.

Seated in the Razor, the silence and tension were thick within the cargo hold, Horangi and Gaz framing your sides with Price taking the seat across from you. You could see the stress and tension rolling off his shoulder after treating everyone, his brows furrowed and a frown curled his lips under his beard. Beside him was Alejandro and Ghost, both - like everyone else - wearing a confused and disgruntled expression on their face, their eyes gleaming with questions left unsaid. You’d left them wondering if their minds were playing tricks on them, if they were seeing things, if they were imagining things and if they were losing their minds. You understood the anger, but you had your reasons to hide Venom’s existence.

Price crossed his arms, legs spread wide as he leaned back, his head tipped back with an inquisitively serious look. He raised a brow at you, waiting to see if you could prove your case or if you had anything to add before he started. With nothing to say, you bit your bottom lip, your shoulders screwed with anxiety and fear. You didn’t know what to expect now that your well-kept secret was out.

“We have a lot to talk about, Hunter.”

“I know, Captain.”

Better sooner than later, leaving it to fester and grow would be bad for the TF’s morale and relations.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness

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undercovercameron · 1 year

Text

impromptu

summary: you and rafe have some fun in the bathroom of a function

notes: *ROUGH SEX* this is technically a continuation of handcuffed rafe because i wrote it immediately after i wrote that one ,intending on the same reader , but is also 100% able to be a standalone fic! peep the daddy kink i randomly thought of but don’t necessarily have (jury’s still out) and the choking kink teehee (jury has found me guilty on that one)

tags: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 3062

The LED lights flash one last time before the bathroom door slams with a shudder, and you’re pressed up against the wall before you can take a breath. He crowds you close, meeting your mouth in a messy kiss, and you’re moaning so desperately it makes your cheeks flush in embarrassment. His hand finds its place on the side of your neck and you feel him let out a pleased noise as you fall quiet. His other hand pushes up past your shirt and up to your bra, rubbing his thumb on the wire. Your arms fall around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. He tastes like whiskey and smoke, and it only makes the place between your legs throb.

“Rafe,” you breathe when he pulls away and latches his mouth on your neck. “No bruises.”

His nose exhales on your pulse point and his fingers tighten on your neck. His thumb presses on your throat and you hum.

“I’ll bruise you if I want,” he murmurs, and slips his hand past the cup of your bra and slides his thumb past your nipple. “Fucking begging me with the way you’re acting.” He nips at your neck, soothing it with his tongue a second later. A punishment, probably. You’re already envisioning your friends asking you about it tomorrow.

You had been tempting him all night, bending over in that tiny ass skirt to line his coke up right. He tried to get up to talk to Barry, but you kept him on the couch with a hand on his belt.

“I think you’re confusing me with someone else,” you say, panting when he shoves your shirt up and pulls your bra down in one swift motion. His mouth catches your nipple and you just exhale shakily. A hand finds his hair and holds on as he licks and sucks you until your chest is red and erupting in goosebumps. You say his name once more, leaning your head against the wall as your eyelids fall closed in the feeling of his mouth. A knock sounds at the bathroom door, some frantic shouting about having to pee and Rafe just makes an annoyed noise before fumbling under your skirt to get your panties off. You try to help him but he pushes your hands away, shooting you a dangerous look. Fine.

“Could’ve sworn you were going to ride my thigh in there. Filthy bitch.” He rises back up and presses a kiss to your mouth again, satisfying your need for tasting him. “Hold on to the towel rack.”

You roll your eyes, nearly scoffing. The gall of this man, thinking he can boss you around

But he sinks to his knees then, gaze following your eyes, and grabs your leg, hiking it over his shoulder. You frantically grab onto the towel rack with one hand while the other follows his head down, and then he’s burying his face between your legs.

“Fuck,” you exhale, fingers seeking purchase in his soft hair as his tongue pushes through your folds and gives your needy clit some attention. It’s like his mouth was made for this. Your skirt is pulled past your hips, shirt pushed up and bra slid down to expose your tits to the bathroom air. It’s humiliating having him like this, in the middle of a party, but his mouth sucks particularly hard and then you feel no regret. “Yes, Rafe, fuck.” Your head meets the wall again, fed up with trying to see him eating you out for the time being, and your lips part in a truly embarrassing noise. He hums appreciatively and grabs your thigh, hiking it up further on his shoulder. Your other leg shakes with the pressure of holding yourself up, and your fingers cramp with how tight you’re holding.

“So fucking wet,” he says, muffled by your clothes, and pulls back to spit on you. Your mouth hangs open, collecting flies, as he eats you like it’s his goddamn job. “Needy,” he murmurs, and shakes his face.

“Keep talking,” you request, voice raw and chest heaving. “Feels so good when—,”

“Shut the fuck up,” he spits, and takes your other leg up onto his shoulder. You push a hand against the wall and grip tighter on the metal rack. “Running that pretty little mouth. Can’t shut the fuck up for once in your life.”

You bite your lip, fighting off another pornographic noise for the sake of your dignity and the people waiting to use the bathroom outside. The music thumps against the walls and you feel dirty, suddenly aware of what’s happening to everybody else. Rafe Cameron dragging a girl into a bathroom during the middle of the party and drawing sounds from her you wouldn’t want God to hear. And devouring your pussy like his last meal.

“Might have to fuck that right out of you,” he spares one last lick at your clit and bites at your thigh. “Filthy fucking girl, fucking in somebody else’s bathroom.”

“Please,” you reply, and he digs his fingers into your thigh. He really gets into it then, sucking so perfectly at your clit and making noises that your stomach tightens. “Rafe.” You squeeze at his hair and around his head as a warning. “I’m gonna—,”

He pulls away, mouth wet, and rips your hand from the towel rack. You fall pathetically down to the floor, and then he’s tugging you closer and pushing his face back in between your legs. You pulse around his tongue, surely able to feel the beat, and start to whine like a bitch in heat. ‘Please’s fall from your swollen lips, and he’s laughing into your pussy. He lets go from one of your thighs and pushes two large fingers into you, immediately hammering them against your sensitive walls and suctioning his mouth to your clit. You nearly shriek, voice so loud against the noise outside, and pull on his hair.

“Fuck, Rafe!”

And that’s all you need. Your thighs shake around his head, fingers inside of you stroking you expertly, and then you’re cumming into his mouth with a sound high in your throat. You think you hear a “good fucking girl” from him, but your ears are ringing. He doesn’t stop until he feels you squeezing him as tight as a vice, and then he licks a couple time at your clit finally. Your hips try to pull away, but he stays them with two strong hands.

“Too much, Rafe, fuck.”

He finally pulls away, wiping his mouth on the back of a hand. You look completely fucked. Eyes blown wide, cheeks and chest flashes a dark red, and your chest heaving. He pushes his fingers into his mouth, tasting you one more time before fixing you with a kiss so rough you’re whimpering into his mouth.

“There you go,” he whispers, kissing the corner of your mouth with his red lips. He tastes sweet, and the tang of your own slick makes your walls pulse again.

“Dude, I’ve got to fucking piss! Get the fuck out!” Comes from the door with a couple of pounds on the wood. Rafe grunts, rising to his feet, and opens the door with a harsh pull. He passes the threshold, shoulders square and jaw clenching.

“Find another bathroom, pussy. This one’s occupied. Unless you want a bullet in your fucking head.” He nearly bites the dude’s throat, but you don’t get the satisfaction. The guy backs off, seemingly content with finding another bathroom, and Rafe closes the door with a slam.

“Knees,” he says, looking down at you with serious eyes, and starts to unbuckles his belt. You struggle onto your knees, still out of breath. But he dips half through unbuttoning his pants to press another kiss to your mouth and grab a handful of your tits. You rise up, fingers fumbling with his pants, and get them unbuckled. He leans back against the counter, hands bracing on the edge, and watches you like a hawk. His chest heaves. You kiss him through his underwear, feeling the warmth against your cheek and leaving a wet imprint on the fabric.

One large hand finds the side of your head, and he pets your hair as you take his dick out of his underwear and hold it with your warm hands. You kiss it, wanting to tease him, and look up innocently at him.

“I don’t have all day, slut,” he grunts, and grabs a handful of your hair for safekeeping. He grabs your chin between two strong fingers and pulls your mouth open. The head slips past your wet lips, and he nearly moans. But he holds back, wanting you to deserve it. Your tongue swirls, mouth sucking tight, and moves down. The tip taps your throat, and you nearly gag, but Rafe holds your head tight. “Fucking take it,” he bites through his teeth and relishes the way your throat moves in struggle. You hold it, then slowly release when he lets you. You pull back, spitting on his flushed skin, and lay another kiss on the shaft before pushing it back into your mouth. He feels so good, tasting salty and savory like skin, and you want to make him feel good. So you push him further again, and pull back. His breath moves fast in and out of his chest. You look up with his dick in your mouth, eyes watering, and he nearly busts.

With a grunt, he grabs at your arm bracing itself on his leg and pulls you into a standing position. He grabs the back of your neck and switches places, pressing you hard against the marble of the sink countertop. He jerks your head back, jaw tight, and forces you to look at yourself.

“Look at you. So fucking filthy.” He grins, watching you shudder and press back into him. His dick jumps at the feeling of your ass pressed against it. “Take your shirt off.”

You oblige, ripping it off your head, and your bra falls with one movement of his fingers.

“Can you…?” You start, hopeful at the prospect of feeling his bare chest on you, but he stays silent and drags your skirt to the floor. You’re once again struck at the situation, him completely clothed in gray pants and a striped navy shirt about to fuck a completely nude you. It makes your stomach tense. He grabs at your neck again and presses himself along the back of your body, laying a kiss to your shoulder.

“Bend over,” he murmurs, but you turn your head to the side for a kiss first. He grants you one, feeling giving, and then manhandles you over the sink with your cheek pressed against the counter. He fumbles with his pants again, belt jingling, and then presses himself carefully into you. The immediate tightness and warmth makes him groan, head falling back and eyes rolling. You see it through the mirror and squeeze on him. He digs his hands into your ass and bottoms out with one swift move.

“Yes,” you whine into the counter, turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him. But he grabs a handful of your hair and jerks your head back.

“Don’t fucking look at me. Look at you.” He grins at you, pulling back slightly onto to push back in. “Begging for my dick.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you sigh quietly, and his dick literally twitches in you.

“What was that?” He grits out, and yanks your hair again. You cry out, eyes falling closed.

“No-nothing. Fuck me.”

“No, no, no,” he chants, and grabs your throat with one big hand. You scramble to hold onto his wrists when he pulls you back towards him, fingers tight on your neck, and gasp for air. “Say that again.” He buried his nose in your hair. “Say it.”

“Please—Daddy.”

“Oh…” He mutters, voice suddenly threatening. “Oh, you’re filthy. Filthy fucking girl.” He punctuates his words with a jerk of his hips that presses the tip of his dick nearly to your cervix. You’re sure he meant it as a punishment, but it feels like a reward. (You hope he cums in you, but you keep that to yourself for now.) “Dirty fucking— fuck.” You squeeze around him. He drops you again, pressing a hand to your back with one hand while reaching between your legs and finding your clit with two fingers. “Come on.”

Your head knocks into the mirror with the force of his pounding into you, and you swear you meet God. He feels so good, so deep in you, that you can’t control the noises you’re making. It's a senseless babble, but he eats it up just the same. You grab onto the counter frantically, pushing the soap and towel onto the floor as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. Like an animal. He pulls his shirt up and holds it between his teeth, wanting a clear view of what he’s doing to you.

“Look at that,” he sighs, fingers fast between your legs. “You’ll be able to feel me for days.”

“Yes,” you say, encouraging him, and push back on him despite your impending orgasm. “Yes, yes, Daddy. Fuck me.”

His heart smacks the wall of his chest, and he looks up at the ceiling with closed eyes.

“Rafe,” you say, hands flailing and reaching back to touch his abdomen. “Rafe—fuck, please.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he pants, and spits into his hand before reaching and rubbing you fast and hard. Your cheeks are on fire, and your legs shake miserably. Thank God for this sink.

“So good. So good for me,” he exhales, leaning over your sticky back with a hand braced on the mirror. You pray he doesn’t shatter it with his effort.

“I—Rafe—fuck.” You cry and then finally cum again, blood rushing and heart beating itself out of your chest. You clench down on him, and his dick jumps.

“There you go. There you fucking go.” He grabs at your shoulder and pulls you back to his chest, and you close your eyes and will away the dull pain of him fucking you into oversensitivity. “Such a good fucking girl,” he pushes out between his teeth, and his eyes close as he cums into you. His shoulders shake and he nearly falls into you but catches himself with a hand on the counter.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” you pant, and try to steady your legs.

But he pulls away, hands spinning you and pushing you back up onto the counter in a sitting position.

“Rafe—please, it’s too much—,” is all you get out before he’s dipping his head and latching his mouth onto your fucked raw pussy and curling his tongue into you. You lean back up against the mirror, legs twitching as his teeth brush your still-buzzing clit, and let him have his fun.

When he’s cleaned you out, he dips for a filthy, wet kiss to your lips and hums contentedly.

“Rafe.” You press a hand to his chest and chase his lips as he pulls away. “I don’t think I can walk, baby.”

“Yes, you can,” he scoffs, and scoops your ass in his hands to get you on your feet. Your knees buckle immediately, and you grab onto the side of the counter and his forearm.

“Did I not fucking tell you?” You say, looking up at him stubbornly.

“Still got a mouth on you,” he comments, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. He presses a kiss to your neck. “I’ll get you home one way or another.”

“Whose home?” You ask, fingers still tight on his arm as you try to take a step towards your clothes. Nope. Not happening.

“Mine,” he says, making a face at you, and bends to pick up your clothes. “Fuck you mean?”

“I’m not making up those fucking stairs, Rafe. Your house is like three stories.”

“I’ll get Sarah to help.”

“No, no— you are not asking your 16 year old sister to help carrying me up the stairs. No way.”

“Okay, my dad then.” He smiles at you, mocking, and helps your shirt back over your head.

“Now that I wouldn’t mind.” You grin up at him, eyes mischievous. He bends, one hand on your neck, and kisses your mouth. You make a noise and curl a hand around his shoulders, loving his mouth for the millionth time tonight. It might start to become a kink.

“Finally quiet,” he remarks smartly, grabbing his shirt and opening the bathroom door. “Coming?” He smirks.

“Yeah, like twice, thanks.” You struggle into a standing position and gesture for him to help. He just sighs, but relents. He grabs your waist in one large arm and hauls you into his side.

“Needy fucking thing. Can’t even walk.” He sighs and you two push past the throng of people in the hallway towards the front door.

“Your fault. Like most things.” You say into his ear, and he just gives you a look. “My bad.” You’re grinning when you breach the door and the cool night air feels incredible on your hot skin.

“Thank you for your help, Daddy.” You smooth a hand up his neck to his hair, and he shivers.

“Just get the in the fucking car.”

(Sarah hears you two coming in close to three, and wanders out onto the landing.

“Y/N?” She calls, and you look up. She sees his hand around your waist, and quirks her head. “What’re you guys doing?”

“Go to bed, Sarah,” Rafe says loudly, glancing up at her with his jaw clenched.

“What happened?” She holds onto the railing, chewing her lip as you two climb the stairs slowly

“Sarah,” he warns, but you smack his shoulder.

“Nothing. I just fell in the bathroom.” You smile politely up at her. Rafe snorts. You smack him again, and Sarah is even more confused.

“What were you doing?”

“Dancing,” you reply, the corners of your lips curling up. Rafe stays silent, and it dawns on Sarah and her face suddenly contorts in disgust.

“You two are disgusting. Now I’m going to bed.” She disappears from the railing, then comes back only a second later. “Try not to be too loud tonight. These walls are thin.”

You salute up at her and watch Rafe’s mouth twitch.)

#obx #obx smut #obx x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe x you

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walkawaytall · 3 months

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I really wish there was more interest in how to handle ADHD other than just addressing the symptoms that affect the people around us.

Like, the best pharmaceutical treatment we have right now is stimulants, and I agree that being on stimulants 24 hours a day, 365 days a year is probably not good for your body. Hell, I’m on a less-than-ideal dose of my medication from a concentration perspective because the ideal dose had my resting heart rate sitting at a cool 115BPM. I know taking med holidays is important. I know all of this.

But because ADHD isn’t just an attention problem (or may not actually be an attention problem at all at its core), it sucks that the only time period medical professionals seem to be concerned about treating are the “important” times: the length of a school or workday. Forget the fact that ADHD affects executive function, forget the fact that people with ADHD often experience chronic and unending anxiety and/or depression as a result of the ADHD, forget that there are important times that have nothing to do with an 8-hour school or work day, forget the rejection sensitivity dysphoria, the sensory issues that make things like clothing, food, and group situations a nightmare to try to navigate, the household stuff that has to be taken care of outside of the 8-hour school or work day. It feels like none of that matters because it doesn’t affect a group of fifteen or more people.

On top of ADHD, I have been plagued with anxiety-related issues for the majority of my life. I likely have a form of OCD and I have a history with a restrictive eating disorder; both of those conditions are very closely associated with high levels of anxiety. I’ve been on anxiety medications before. I was first given an as-needed medication that took the edge off but also made everything feel a little fuzzy, like there was a pane of glass between me and the rest of the world; I was put on an SSRI that somehow made my OCD-related intrusive thoughts about 50x worse than usual and had me wondering at one point if I should be hospitalized; and I’m currently on buspirone, which is doing what it’s supposed to do without the side effects of the others thankfully. But nothing, and I mean nothing, has reduced my anxiety as much as my ADHD medication.

Two hours after my first stimulant dosage, I just suddenly didn’t feel on-edge any more. I estimate that being on ADHD medication has reduced my anxiety by about 70% (buspirone’s for the other 30%). I started taking it in the summer of 2020 and I remember, in 2021, when I saw my boss in person for the first time since lockdown, he remarked on how much more confident I seemed, how I was more likely to speak up in meetings, etc. And I was like…yeah, man, it’s a wonder what not feeling anxious every second of every day will do for someone.

ADHD affects so much more of my life than just attention and anxiety, too. I have sensory issues with mine, which is pretty common, and they make eating — an already sometimes-complicated task due to the ED history — difficult at times because, while I can eat foods that I don’t particularly like, if something is what I call “the bad texture”, I will gag no matter how hard I work to overcome it (believe me, I’ve tried). And my brain sometimes decides that foods that were previously fine are now “the bad texture” and they may or may not shift back to being okay eventually; I don’t know.

The sensory issues affect me socially. My therapist and I have recently come to the conclusion that I’m probably not actually an introvert, but if I’m around larger groups, that means noise and movement and probably being touched, and too much of that causes my brain to either freak out or shut down. I used to always say, “I love people, but when I’m done, I’m done.” And that was likely because the overstimulation was building and building in the background, and at a certain point, my brain would just be like, “We gotta get outta here.” I was Queen of Irish Goodbyes for a very long time because of this.

And the executive dysfunction affects…well..everything? Not just work, not just school (but also those because if my environment is chaotic, my brain feels chaotic, and it is difficult to maintain a non-chaotic environment if you keep getting stuck on order of operations when picking up a room).

I’m not saying that I want to be on longer-lasting stimulants or that I want to be on the higher dose that I know helps my concentration more, cardiovascular system by damned. What I’m saying is, I wish treatment research had been more holistic rather than just figuring out what would give teachers and managers an easier time despite what the person with ADHD might be dealing with as soon as their meds wear off.

Maybe current research is working on it; I don’t know. I just know that, the older I get, the more frustrated I am with my brain and the more apparent the deficiencies I used to be able to counteract with pre-chronic-illness energy and crushing perfectionism become, and I wish there was an answer to this that actually helped me most of the time rather than forcing me to pick which parts of my day/week is “important” and making sure I’m medicated for those parts.

#adhd #adult adhd #adhd combined #adhd problems #actually adhd #adhd treatment

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faiiryteethh · 2 months

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Trigger Warning: Rare Illness/Health Issues [wasn't sure if this need a tw but these topics make some ppl uncomfy so i wanted to be considerate anyway💜]

so a lot of ppl have been asking me why i don't post pics anymore or why i have barely been on social media compared to how i used to be. and the reason is i've been having severe health issues for a very long time. i can't even remember the last time i went more than a month without feeling nauseous, or actually throwing up, or just having headaches and stomach pain that are so bad i can barely tolerate them.

i've known for a while that i have gastritis, but my mom & my bf convinced me to go to a new doctor for a second opinion. after months & months of pure agony and feeling exhausted and sick to the point where i have no energy, i finally know why. i went to a specialist and discovered i have a rare illness called CVS (Cyclic vomiting syndrome). and i also am lactose intolerant which was amplifying my symptoms because i eat dairy products constantly.

i am going to be starting treatment for it and i really hope it improves my life and my ability to function because i am so tired of "living" like this. just existing has been exhausting and painful. i literally haven't been able to accomplish any of the goals i have because i can't go more than a few days without feeling horrible.

i already feel useless because i'm autistic and i have bipolar 1 and i'm waiting on disability payments to come through because i am unable to work with my disabilities. so my bf has been working and doing his best to take care of me and our kids. i just feel so horrible and guilty all the time. and i genuinely didn't know why i feel sick 24/7. all i want is to feel like myself again. and to do all the things i miss doing. i feel like i'm trapped by this illness.

i'm grateful to have answers and know what i'm dealing with finally. but after suffering like this almost every single day for so long its so hard to feel hopeful for the future at this point. i'm literally in tears as i type this. its just been really bad. i never do my makeup anymore or feel good about myself. i can barely move sometimes because the pain in my stomach is so bad or i get pain in my throat from vomiting for hours at a time, and then i get MORE pain from dry heaving due to not being able to hold down any food. and then i get random migraines and headaches that last all day as a result of all of that. its taking a huge toll on my body and my mental health. my depression gets worse during the winter season so when this started getting really bad it just made my mental health a million times worse. its literal hell.

but yeah thats why i haven't been online. real life is hard enough and i haven't been motivated to post because of the hell i'm going through or a lot of the time i physically CAN'T make content. but i'm going to keep trying. i'm going to do every fucking thing my doctors tell me to do because im so fed up with suffering. i promise that i will make content again and post the things i create and other stuff i used to post about before i stopped being able to function. as soon as i start to feel semi normal or at least well enough to do daily activities and complete even small goals, i will post about it. i'll keep u guys updated.

i appreciate every single person who follows me and my content, and all the ppl who keep checking up on me and wondering where the fuck i went. i love you guys so much💜 and i'm so sorry to all the ppl who haven't heard from me. if i can gain at least a little bit of my physical strength and health back, i will be so happy. i also am trying to get vitamins prescribed to me because im severely lacking nutrients but they are so expensive and i can't afford them out of pocket until i get my disability money. i'm also anemic and have to start taking iron supplements again. i'm just a giant ball of health issues😭 its actually ridiculous how bad my health has been. but i'm a mom and for that reason i will never stop trying. i will do whatever it takes to get better. i don't think my health could get much worse than it is currently. hopefully i didn't just jinx myself by saying that😭

sorry for the super long explanation, i just have sooo many messages in my inbox and questions that you guys send me that i haven't answered. i don't want to leave u in the dark. the connections i've made on this silly little blog mean the world to me. and everything i've been going through has been so hard to explain. but since i recently got a REAL answer as to why i'm suffering so much, i felt it was a good time to let you guys know what is going on with me. like i said, when i am able to feel somewhat normal again i will post consistently and re-open my shop too! it sucks so bad having a passion for creating but being too sick to even get out of bed other than to get sick in the bathroom. i've been to the emergency room more times this month than i have in the last 4 years. if i can overcome this awfulness i will not take it for granted. i will work harder than i ever have to create and share it with the world. but for now i just have to sit back and do whatever my doctors tell me to do and hope to god that it helps me 😞

#kh

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002yb · 11 months

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Something about Dick kissing Jason for the first time, Jason's childhood crush just kissed him and his brain stop working

Convenience is the only reason why Jason stays over at Dick's apartment sometimes. It has nothing to do with how comfortable Jason finds it - homey and lived in with all of its clutter: knickknacks from travels, framed photos of friends, and hardy plants that can withstand Dick's hectic schedule and sporadically remembered watering.

There are quilts. Pillows. Added comforts for the sake of comfort and beyond necessity. It feels like a hodgepodge of decor - an atmosphere that reads of a lifetime in the circus and another in the manor; humble and extravagant and surprising no matter how often Jason has seen it at this point.

Back when Jason had first barreled through Dick's window, he thought he had the wrong place. It felt too nice for any bat-raised brat, though maybe Jason is the outlier (a compact studio that's all function over form; no valuables, no warmth; hard to trace and easily disposed of - hardly a home, but 'home' was always something foreign to him anyway). Drapes billowed around Jason from the breeze of the open window behind him and Dick stood in his kitchen, leaned against a counter while watching Jason curiously because Jason is positive he looked as lost as he felt.

He remembers the rug under his boot. Stepping back onto hardwood so he wouldn't dirty it. It's weird to him how that same rug is beneath his bare feet now, toes curling into plush softness before he brings them up onto the couch to sit cross legged. Stranger still is how some weeks ago when Jason fumbled through a demand turned request turned question: help me with a case? Dick smiled and invited him into his space and hasn't made Jason leave since: Yeah. Of course, little wing.

Not that Jason hasn't left. He only stays on an as-needed basis. For the case. Because Jason's continued presence here has nothing to do with Dick's cozy apartment or the comfortable couch Jason dozes off on multiple days of the week now. It also has nothing to do with a persistent and undying crush that has followed Jason through lifetimes.

This arrangement is strictly case-related. It's more convenient to stay. Their schedules - Dick's schedule, in particular - are hard to work around. To maximize their productivity, it makes sense that Jason be here. That aside, it's his case. Begrudging as he was to let Dick in on it, Dick has skill sets that have been invaluable towards finding a resolution (ie. Dick is a shamelessly cunning and manipulative bastard - he puts on a show well; he wears dangerous and dark well, a second skin); he's capable and lessens Jason's burden, speeding everything along by helping Jason be in multiple places at once.

It's a good partnership.

They're still in the thick of it; will be for a while, by Jason's estimate. A commitment Dick has been comfortable making because cases are less pressure than a relationship - leave him alone, damn.

Maybe it's the new single life Dick is back to that has him receptive to Jason's continued company. If whatever girlfriend was around, Jason wonders if Dick would ask him to leave - if he would leave, himself. An added bonus that Dick's company has been, at least Jason would have the apartment still.

Not that Jason is here for the apartment. Or Dick. It's a strategic base of operations, is all.

It's neither here nor there why Dick is agreeable to Jason crowding his space and cramping his style. They work, they eat, they sleep if time permits and then they do it all again. Working around Dick's day job is a pain if only because it's police work, but what's worse is that immediately after the day job comes the night job, followed by the added workload of Jason's tasks and after living staying with Dick sometimes for days at a time, well.

It stresses Jason the fuck out. He doesn't understand when Dick rests; he doesn't get how the hell Dick hasn't run himself into the ground already. Dangers of all the work Dick does aside, the pace isn't sustainable. Forget joining the ranks of the dirty thirties, Dick will find his way to an early death if he doesn't slow down. Jason has been there, done that; he can’t recommend it.

"Take the day off." Jason calls from the living room. He sits on Dick's couch, pouring over all the information and materials Dick gathered a few hours prior while Dick goes about getting ready for another day at the precinct.

He thinks he might hear a tired grunt, followed by a yawn and the sound of Dick bumping into a wall.

"Your work schedules are unreasonable." Jason complains. It's not the first time that he's done so. Unfortunately Dick is as stubborn as the rest of them - more so, arguably. And yeah, Jason can help out by cooking sometimes and having coffee ready to go, but domestic-adjacent help isn't a long term fix even if Jason did get to be domestic long term.

Dick needs to find some work-life balance.

"It's fine." Dick says, brushing off Jason's concern in a way that leaves Jason bristling. "I'll wake up in a bit."

Hardly convincing when Dick yawns for the umpteenth time in a matter of minutes.

"You'll pass out on patrol one of these days." Jason scoffs. "Just because I can carry your dead weight doesn't mean I want to."

Dick snorts from the other room. "GCPD is too high-risk to leave unchecked."

That Jason can't disagree pisses him off. Even still, he taps irritably at the laptop and glares at the screen as he grumbles, "You're overworking yourself. That's all I'm saying."

Grouchy as Jason tries to sound, Dick sees right through it to the earnestness beneath. When he walks out of his room dressed in his blues, he even looks refreshed - endeared. Oh, no.

"You're sweet, little wing."

Fuck. Jason ducks his head, lips pursed and cheeks warm. Dick shuffles about his apartment for a few minutes, drinking the coffee Jason set out before straying back to his room. Lest Jason give himself away more, he can't say anything further. He stays petulantly quiet, refocusing his attention on something that might be more productive than arguing with the wall that is Dick Grayson.

"I'll be back in the evening." Dick tells him. "We'll work more then?"

Jason grunts, sulking as he stares fixedly on the screen and the details of their case. For as strained as Dick is, the research that he's gathered for his side of things is good. Well, not good. It's terrible news, but it's insightful and damning and they can use it to their advantage.

"You might consider taking a break, too." Dick says. It does little more than earn him a withering glare, a weak snarl because the hypocrisy is truly staggering. Dick knows it, too. He snickers, hands raised in a show of placation as he relents, "Alright, alright."

"See you in a few," Dick says, checking the time on his phone before distractedly striding over to where Jason sits on the couch. If only because it's uncharacteristic and not how this routine usually goes, Jason furrows his brows, tilting his head to look at Dick and promptly going still because Dick leans down, brushing Jason's fringe back to kiss Jason's forehead before ducking out to get to work with nothing more than a 'thanks for the coffee!' tossed over his shoulder.

Jason stares after him - at the closed front door - eyes wide and thoughts so overwhelmed that his mind is blank.

What just happened?

Jason raises his hand to hold against his forehead. A blush stains his cheeks a pretty pink, then a flustered red from the tips of his ears to down his chest.

Another moment passes. Jason breaks over himself, closing the laptop and setting his work aside because fuck, that just happened. It's something easily explained away: Dick is exhausted and not thinking straight, or he got caught up in the domesticity of it all and fell back into what might have been a habit from the past. There's nothing to it, but even still Jason's heart hammers in his chest. Stuttering and skipping in time with all the butterflies in his stomach.

Stupid crushes.

The door opens again and Jason jolts to sit upright, still flushed and looking like a deer in the headlights. Dick stares after him, equally wide eyed - cheeks flushed in a way that Jason has never seen because Dick has done the impossible and managed to fluster himself.

There's no denying they're both wide awake now.

And Jason - he can play this any number of ways. A happy accident that he can shrug off to play it cool, a mistake that Jason can hold over Dick's head and torment him for, or it can be a chance. An opportunity no matter how long of a shot it is. Just the thought of it has Jason's heart skipping a beat, his breath caught in his chest; he had planned to take his undying crush with him to the grave (again), but what if...

Flirting is all plausible deniability until its not anyway, right?

"This is why you should stay home."

To kiss Jason again. To kiss Jason right.

Dick's lips quirk into something boyish and charming before he laughs, a quiet chuckle. He leans against the door frame, looking over Jason's expression, "Might kiss you again."

And - nope. It was a valiant effort but Jason is playing out of his league. Get him out. S.O.S. Abort.

Plausible deniability goes both ways and he thinks Dick might have done it better, the fucker. For the life of him Jason can't tell if Dick was making a self-deprecating joke or flirting back. It’s a critical hit either way just for the implication and Jason's heart can't handle it.

Something about Jason's expression must give him away because Dick huffs a laugh, a soft and endeared breath followed by a smile so devastating that Jason feels disarmed.

"Might let you if you do something to deserve it." Jason quips, cheeks flushed, all challenge when he says, "Like rest."

He doesn't expect Dick to call off of work, but his heart might stop when Dick does.

======

And then they sit together and work on their case until Dick passes out, head pillowed on Jason's shoulder and Jason is the blushiest of boys.

#jaydick #dickjay #dick grayson #jason todd #words #jason's first love is dick grayson #dorks in love

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justineangelrococo · 3 months

Text

Hazbin and Helluva boss theories spoiler talk as well.

❤️‍🔥

Alrighty before the new episodes come out I have a theory I want to put out

These three right here Lucifer, Lilith, and Eve are why hell is the way it is, I'm calling it now and I want to be wild with this theory for a moment. These three were in a poly relationship or situationship, or just friends, or Eve might have been like fuck you dude after her experiences with Adam, and was just friends with Lilith.

Now as we know when Lucifer fell and was sent to hell he got majorly depressed, he is not doing well its hard to say he is functional, as someone with depression he needs help but he gave up. Which is hard and something you can't do especially when you have a child, Eve could have pointed it out, maybe in Charlie and Lilith's best interest maybe not. But we're going to say they left together and raised Charlie together maybe with Eve maybe being her nanny, her tutor who knows but she was there, she has to be because she definitely isn't in heaven from what we have seen.

They could have been twinning it up if the theory is they look identical is correct but I don't know about that, Adam's face looks a screen monitor, and his exorcists follow that trend, which makes me think she's static, the static you see on the TV when you have no signal or looking for a channel and the antenna isn't in a ok position, and you know what this fits to me at least.

Let's look at Lilith in hazbin hotel, she is audible, music song, her voice, Soundwaves carrying empowering messages and songs.

Visual and Audible, almost like two other characters we see Alastor, and Vox. Alastor being audible with radio and his waves casting his shows out, and Vox with his shows, tech, all of the media that requires being seen. Vox is always trying to get at Alastor, what if their relationship is a mirror of Lilith and Eve's. Eve jealous or wanting to be close to Lilith, who knows maybe Eve is the one Alastor made a deal with and the reason he was so mad at Lucifer is because Eve might have been at Lilith's side and this man hasn't done a thing, after years of help raise his daughter now he shows up, like boy if you don't you'r behind out of here like go! Or maybe Alastor did make a deal with Lilith and after hanging out having sometime with the girls got the tea and about Lucifer seeing how he is a parent and was like no, and now has a beef with him.

Which leads us to our other thing why haven't we seen Eve, anything about her seems just hidden or lock and key, we never see anything but her smile, never her eyes which makes you think right, another bit into this ramble of a theory I got eyes are the windows to the soul, straight to the heart right does Eve even have one, like is she a good person, what kind of a person was she because the smile she wears might not be a kind one, she is the mother of Cain and Able and all the other humans, Adam is a asshole, but what is Eve.

Is Eve angry because maybe Lucifer and Lilith didn't take her with them, now she's stuck with Adam and being the eternal scapegoat for years for eating the fruit. Being the reason people put down women because they are her daughters, this could be a big revenge plan on heaven, for letting Adam when he doesn't deserve it into heaven. Lucifer and Lilith for giving her the fruit and ruining everything about humanity, for heaven for creating humanity and letting them suffer, to go through it all and end up in hell

Or the other sad theory is Lilith is Dead, more than likely do to Lucifer and, Eve is fucking pissed but you know what they continue the relationship and someone has the idea for her to pretend to be Lilith, maybe for Charlie's best interest for hell's best interest. Because Lucifer isn't running the show, someone has too mind you the show being run is awful but it's running and why do I say it's awful. Because when you look at helluva boss and the treatment of some hellborn demons they have their problems like when Blitz when to go take Loona for her shots and it took as long as it did for them to even be seen.

Which Lucifer doesn't care about, the other leaders of the rings and the other people in charge don't care the system works for them, Imps, hellhounds. But at the sametime it's supposed to be awful its hell, but at the sametime the people it's supposed to punish can't even leave the top layer, so why is awful in some of the other layers, mainly because the others are left to their own devices, when leading their rings, Mammon is a piece of shit, but Asmodeus isn't as bad of a guy as you would think, Beelzebub as we see her isn't either. Now my other reason why Lucifer doesn't care as much, they don't have his gift, humans have his gift of knowledge and have souls, the hellborn as we know don't have a soul, not sure gonna need to get more proof on this but this is a theory ramble.

The angels and heaven created hell to keep Lucifer in so he would be punished and never see the good results of his work they would be in heaven, out of reach. That doesn't mean he doesn't care about them a little bit he made sure that the hellborn, and his daughter would be spared from being killed by heaven.

But yeah this is my theory rant until the new episodes until they come out or the brain gets going again. I was filled with all thes jumbled thoughts sorry if it wasn't as well organized but I just wanted to get them out folks, hopefully other people also see me and go ayyyyy I had those theories too and remember this is all this is all for fun and just some theory and rambles.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel theories #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel Lucifer #hazbin hotel eve #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lilith #helluva boss #helluva boss theory #helluva boss theories #hazbin hotel rambles #the lady speaks #my rants

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sleepy-vix · 1 month

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journal/braindump 26/3/24

i hope life gets better soon. school is so miserable and weird and i just constantly feel like my physical shape is blurred and i'm but a a faceless entity drifting through the crowded and sweaty halls. when i speak to people it feels like i have to physically force myself to and i'm always so conscious of the fact that i would really love it if i were alone and not speaking to anybody at all.

i don't feel confident in myself and i feel like this year has passed by way too fast and i feel like just attempting to live feels like a bunch of cold sand is piled in my hands, and like sand does, it slips easily through my fingers and all i can do is watch. i feel so stupid and so naive all the damn time

for a while i had believed that everything would be okay, and then for a while after that i believed that i should kill myself. i'm okay now, i still feel very unsettled and it's like i'm not really me but i feel fine enough to function and i feel fine enough to live and wish to keep on living

i wish to keep on living

tomorrow i will wake up early and i will make myself coffee and i will sit down and read (i've had reading block for 2 days- which seems short but its annoying for me bc i really really want to read but i feel too restless and distracted to). i'll try to be nice to myself and protect my peace really hard and go on walks or something

i find that watching youtube videos where people just sit and talk, or rearrange their house and books, is really calming to me. i can't wait to just sit in front of the tv with a cup of matcha and a box of chocolates and just watching people talk, or watch all the movies ive been meaning to watch for sooo long

autumn is rolling around, and i'm infinitely greatful that it is because i always feel so inspired during this season. autumn makes me want to read, it makes me want to watch more films and eat more food and drink warm drinks that make me feel okay inside.

i also hope to pick up journalling again, but i'm not sure if i will because i don't have my own printer for images and idk what to journal but i have recently tried to just draw pictures- ive recently written journal pages on what i want to read, and also an "about me" page, and hand drew pictures. it's nice, but it doesn't give the same effect as full out journalling (with stickers, images, tape, etc... sigh.). i hope i journal more this holiday nonetheless.

i also hope to read without feeling so much pressure. i usually have no problem with reading whatever i want to read, as i like to think of myself as somebody who isnt easily influenced by other people's views (eg. if someone told me i have to read a certain book, i will consider it but i wont read it unless i want to) , but lately i've been thinking of all the books i want to read this holiday (for me i have autumn break in one week- and autumn break lasts for 2 weeks) and as u can imagine, it is very stressful bc ive somehow fallen into the mindset that i must read ALL of those books before next term or else.

fyi the books comprise of

- the complete collection of jane austen

- the complete collection of sherlock holmes

- the poppy war

- the iliad

- hamlet

- the metamorphosis

soo yeah... especially the first two points are stressing me out haha... im starting the poppy war now but im a little nervous bc ppl keep saying that its VERY gory??? and i usually dont care abt such things but lately my nerves and emotions have been such a wreck that i dont trust myself to read it in a calm manner

i'll try to break free of this toxic reader mindset tho! it would be nice if i could talk to people abt books, so it feels like im engaging with my hobby while not actually having to do the hobby, but nobody ik irl will want to talk abt books as i do

MAN i so badly want to rant abt booktok (ok actually i wont expand on this bc its a very sore point for me in the sense that i might get worked up over it and then feel shit afterwards for displaying sm emotion)

anywaysss next topic

ummm i get my maths result back on thursday and im so fucking scared bc i know i messed up bad for a few questions but im not sure if it was enough to drop me down to a b... idk i REALLY REALLY WANT AN A. like istg my whole self esteem for until the next exams roll around is goijg to be based off my maths result.. fuck im so emotionally immature its laughable

ummm also i have literature class tmr and i love lit class but we have to watch fucking "shes the man" and im sorry but i hate that movie so so much (ive never watched it before but we watched half of it last lesson and it was soo annoying). ughh why is my eng teacher making us watch this 😭😭

also my eng teacher is very blunt and therefore very interesting to talk to so ive been wanting to ask him abt books hes read lately but i CANT bc we have to watch thats tupid fucking movie and also he has to mark papers :( but also like hes the only intellectually stimulating person ik irl so what am i meant to do with all of my buzzing book thoughts ughh (rhetorical question. pls dont answer) :(

hmm what else is there to say

oh yeah last night i had a dream tjat i got a B+ for english and that was... it was like a nightmare im not even kidding. it was such a vivid dream too- everybody else got an A meanwhile i got a B+ (very close to an A) and i was just absolutely shocked and i desperately begged my teacher to give me some extra credit work so i can bump it up to an A-... yeah...

oh but also back to me wanting to have a better life- i think i'll take myself to the thrift more and go out with my friend (yes, singular. theres only one friend that i like hanging out with outside of school 💀) atleast once this holiday... thats what teen girls my age do, right??? haha...

also i want to watch ladybird and the perks of being a wallflower and rewatch little women and dead poets society !

i also might reread solitaire but aghh that makes me stressed out abt reading again... fuck. maybe i should just take a break from reading omfg

i cant wait to wake up early tomorrow and drink coffee though! :)

also i will make more spotify playlists (it makes me rlly happy to) and MAYBE even try cooking????????????? man idfk im desperate okay? feeling suicidal is not fun and i dont want to feel like that again this year. i cant afford thay bc im meant to be an academic weapon :( (lol who am i kidding? im more like an academic victim)

also maybe i will just text my friends more in general. it stresses me out and makes me feel icky but the other day, i had a nice and fun and lighthearted texting convo with one of my class friends and it made me realise that i should probably text people more ...

lol

anyways i think thats all? i think ive gotten everything off my chest for now. i liked doing this actually. maybe i'll do it more often idk 💀💀

hope u guys have a good day 🙏 i dont actually expect anyone to read this but if you did, i hope you have a good day TIMES TWO!

no refunds :}

#sleepy vix #vix's journal

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im-the-king-of-the-ocean · 5 days

Text

So I saw this really cute NND fanart by @etincelleart, which inspired me to write this fic where Ruby and Penny go for boba in Vacuo.

honestly it's the closest I've engaged with canon in my writing in a long while and it was really fun

don't ask where the atla joke reference came from bc I'm still not entirely sure how it found its way in

Taste Buds

Since her transformation Penny’s life has been full of new experiences. Most of them, good (hugs, the warmth of the sun on her skin, meeting and petting that stray cat, hugs), but she still has just a little bit of apprehension about trying new things. Flipping too quickly through the pages of a book she couldn’t automatically download into her mind (due to her excitement over that being an experience she can have now) leading to her First Ever Paper Cut had taught her that it was perhaps best to take some things slowly.

There’s still no one else quite like her. Ambrosius hadn’t made her a new body. They’d been very careful with their wording there. She just sort of has one now? The person she’d always been manifested as she envisioned herself? Penny is most definitely real, so it checks out. It’s just…the part of her that still finds comfort in hard data and scientific fact struggles with the whole thing, sometimes, when it’s quiet, and she has nothing else really to focus on.

Food has been a particularly exciting (if also a little worrying) topic. Hunger is not something Penny enjoys. Being able to taste definitely is. Even if she hasn’t had the chance to try out too many flavors yet, Penny loves all of them, especially sweets. Though that may be due to it being Ruby (and Ruby’s own giant sweet tooth) that introduced her to many of the foods she’s tried so far, leading to something of a bias in the data sample.

The worrying part about food is the eating. According to the medical doctor she’d gone to with Ruby, Penny is a perfectly healthy, normal girl. The doctor had also reassured Penny her lack of medical records was okay, expected even, it was a common situation amongst a lot of the Atlesian refugees. Informing her that Penny’s organic body was a relatively new development had led to a bit of awkwardness, but they’d moved passed it.

The point being, all the necessary parts for a digestive system (and also every other functionality a person has) are there. How exactly they got there may be a mystery Penny will live with for the rest of her life, but they’re still there, and they all do their jobs properly.

Penny had been nervous at first, to eat. Before, she’d always had to be incredibly careful because a crumb or droplet of liquid in the wrong place could lead to system-wide errors and glitching for days. But, eating was part of her life now. Normal now. Expected even.

And honestly, once she got past that initial, momentary hesitation, the excitement had taken over. It’s a whole new—

“Eep!”

Ruby tugs Penny into a flurry of rose petals. Penny reflexively relaxes into the sensation. They land, breathlessly, on the opposite side of the street from the (cabbage? Penny is fairly sure those are cabbages, but, without instant access to databases, she’s still learning to differentiate vegetables on her own, and all the green ones are particularly difficult) vendor, whose cart Ruby almost knocked over.

The probably-cabbage vendor shakes his fist at them, but doesn’t chase them across the street. He picks up the handles of his cart and, grumbling, goes on his way.

Ruby looks to Penny. Penny looks back. Ruby’s laugh fills her cheeks before bursting out of her. Penny can’t help but join in.

It takes a few minutes for their giggles to subside.

“Okay, okay.” Ruby takes a breath to settle herself. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

They continue weaving their way through the streets of Vacuo, though not going quite as fast as the almost jog Ruby had led Penny on to begin with. Soon they reach the shop with the large sign reading, Bubba Bubba Boba, above it.

The boba shop is slowly becoming something of a favorite of their group. It is, first and foremost, Ruby and Yang’s spot, a cherished reminder of their pre-Beacon life. One they’re slowly sharing with everyone. There’d been talk of visiting as a whole group, but differing assignment schedules made that difficult. So far, to Penny’s knowledge, only Yang has taken Blake there, at the end of their first Official Date As A Couple, where they’d meandered through the shopping district together.

Until, that is, less than an hour ago, when Ruby rushed into Penny and her father’s small quarters and declared Penny absolutely has to go there with her.

Penny isn’t exactly sure of the timeline between Yang surprising Ruby with boba to Yang and Blake’s date ending with them getting boba to now, but she is a little concerned about Weiss’s absence from the series of events. Wouldn’t it have made sense for Team RWBY to go together first?

(Unbeknownst to her, there had been an intermediary moment where Ruby, after hearing about Yang and Blake’s date, got her idea to take Penny for boba, and talked to Weiss about it. Weiss had encouraged (to put it in the most mild terms possible) Ruby to just ask Penny out already, which Ruby had, of course, interpreted as ‘taking my friend Penny, who is my friend and totally not anything else, out for boba’.

(Semi-relatedly, there is an entire chapter of the memoir living rent free in Weiss’s head titled; My Teammates And Their Obliviousness To Their Own Romances: How To Deal With The Unending Frustration.)

Penny and Ruby walk into the boba shop. It’s sparsely decorated, most of what’s there an eclectic assortment of basic furniture easily found. Packing up, leaving in a hurry, and restarting a business in a new kingdom hadn’t been easy for the shop owners, but they seem to be doing their best.

Penny trails after Ruby to the counter. She looks up at the colorful options cheerfully displayed on the menu. There’s a lot of them. Some flavors she recognizes, like strawberry or mango. Others she doesn’t. Staring at the words ‘matcha’ and ‘taro’ doesn’t suddenly reveal anything about what they are to Penny.

“Hey, Penny?” Ruby is looking back at her, mild concern written across her face. “You good?”

“Yes, I…” Penny bites her lower lip. “I don’t know what to choose.” Any of the options could be good. They probably all are. But this will be her first boba. Her first boba with Ruby.

It suddenly feels just a bit daunting.

“Well, let’s see.” Ruby comes to stand beside her. She automatically reaches for Penny’s hand, and Penny doesn’t hesitate in allowing her to take hold of it. With her other, free hand, Ruby taps her finger against her lips. “You’ve had a bunch of types of fruit before, right? Maybe we could go with one of those flavors, since they’re already kind of familiar?”

“I suppose.” Penny glances again at the flavors on the menu she doesn’t know. It would probably be most logical to not travel too far away from the known on her first taste, no matter how much her curiosity is telling her otherwise.

Ruby catches sight of Penny’s expression. She frowns. Then her eyes light up with an idea. “Or, we could get one of each, something you’re familiar with and something you’re not, and share!”

Penny can’t help but grin. “I like that idea much better.”

At the counter, Ruby orders one strawberry and one matcha. Then, with drinks in hand, she leads Penny to one of the shop’s outdoor tables. They sit.

“Here.” Ruby passes the strawberry over to Penny first. Their fingers accidentally brush against each other.

Penny’s heart skips a beat. She tells it, not for the first time, it really must stop doing that when these sorts of minor accidents happen when she’s around Ruby. They’re very comfortable with physical contact with each other. Why should the unintended ones be any different?

“Try it! Try it!” Seemingly unaware of where Penny’s mind is at, Ruby eagerly gestures at the boba cup in front of Penny.

Putting such thoughts aside for later, Penny picks up the strawberry one, and guides the straw to her lips. Then nearly jumps as the first boba makes it to her mouth. She was not expecting that specific texture! Penny rolls the boba around with her tongue, adjusting to how it feels, and tastes.

“Soooo?” Ruby leans forward over the table. “How is it?”

Penny doesn’t have to think about her answer.

“Perfectly sensational!”

“Yay!” Ruby swings back in her chair. Too far. It leans back. Its front two legs leave the ground. The chair tips and unceremoniously drops Ruby. She instinctively calls upon her semblance to catch herself, but flies too far, going into the street.

A second later Ruby finds herself in an amongst the fallen cabbages of the cart she crashed into.

The vendor, the same one from earlier, has his hands on his head.

“MY CABBAGES!”

Over his shoulder, Ruby meets Penny’s gaze. Penny grabs their bobas. They go running.

(Later, they’ll go back and make things right with the cabbage vendor.)

For now, Ruby and Penny hide out in an alley and swap boba flavors.

#rwby #nuts and dolts #ruby rose #penny polendina #mechanical rose #rwby beyond #whirl writes again!

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zahri-melitor · 1 year

Text

Oh my god, Gotham Knights #26. I’m screaming, crying, throwing up.

Just this. This is so damn crunchy. It’s a reminder that the core of the post-Crisis Batfamily revolves around the dynamics and dance of tensions between Dick, Babs and Tim, and how each of them relate to Bruce.

Dick’s on the upswing of his relationship with Bruce, after the adoption and the two of them hammering a bunch of issues out.

Tim’s at a low point where he’s been frozen out and deliberately hurt. Bruce revealed his identity to Steph! Plus Alfred, who’s been staying with him to punish Bruce, had just announced he’s going back to the manor, leaving Tim even more alone.

Babs is in one of her “I’m here for the rest of you; Bruce is aggravating me by being high handed again” phases (admittedly that’s…her default position unlike the other two).

And wow does the way the three of them negotiate the debate over “did Bruce kill someone” just show off both their best and worst character traits (and also they’re all acting way more adult than Bruce, which isn’t a surprise, but what can you do).

Tim and Dick talk! Tim worries Dick is a jumper! They find out they have different opinions on Did Bruce Do It!

(I just want to EAT UP the implication that Tim is worried that Dick might be about to attempt suicide over the fact Bruce killed someone, especially just after the whole ‘killing Joker’ situation)

Dick is Extremely Offended Tim might think Bruce Did It. So what does he do? Go off to talk it through with Babs.

Babs gives Dick the reality check that Bruce has been in one of his push-everyone-away loner modes again and that Dick off in Blüdhaven isn’t having to face it personally, but Batman isn’t even patrolling with Robin right now. Also that Tim’s experiences with Bruce are necessarily different to Dick’s.

When suddenly… Tim arrives to ALSO thrash this conversation out with Babs (They are such mirrors of each other I swear).

Dick takes the opportunity to try and touch base with Tim and find common ground, leading to one of the best/most devastating pages of the Dick & Tim relationship at this point.

Dick is trying to make his baby brother feel safe. Dick would do anything for Tim. Tim however is all too aware of how hollow this promise is, as well meaning as the sentiment is, because they’ve lost people before. (And as I noted, Dick’s actually still in a GOOD cycle with Bruce while Tim really isn’t)

Which leads to THIS angst.

Tim believes in Dick. He can get by just trusting in the detective work he’s been taught and knowing that Dick holds to the Code (and we are LITERALLY only 3 months real time on since Last Laugh, Tim you have phenomenal levels of belief in Dick). Dick however, has that same level of trust in BRUCE, and so can’t cope with Tim not also feeling that way.

(And then Dick goes off to cry to Alfred because he also needed reassurance)

God I love all three of them so much it’s hard to describe. They’re so functional together even when they’re fighting as they all, at their core, trust each other implicitly.

(Alfred and Leslie have some very meaty conversations together and apart also in this, when Gotham Knights was on its game it was one of the best Bat books out there)

Finally: Babs is not having a great time here either, as she’s having to coordinate and run the investigation on Vesper Fairchild’s murder without any assistance from the primary suspect.

Working out some anger issues there, Babs? (Robin #99)

#dc #z canon read throughs #tim drake #barbara gordon #dick grayson #bruce wayne: murderer/fugitive #gotham knights

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tupperwaretub · 1 year

Text

Blood-Ridden (part 2)

Pairing: Joel Miller x (firefly)male! Reader

Warnings: tiny tiny sexual theme, imagery of abuse, violence and gore, attempted suicide, intrusive thoughts and some throwing up 😉

Summary: Tommy's brother joel is over and after a argument and storming out you meet someone who makes you feel a way you haven't felt in 10 years.

(set 10 years after the first one, you're well acquainted with joel and tess)

(blue and red text is for thoughts reader has sort of like a angel and devil on each shoulder kind of deal)

Part 1: here

Part 3: here

....................................

It's been ten years since you first met Tommy, since he first introduced you to the fireflies and gave you what you considered to be a family and a home. The fireflies were your family, your not-so-little messed up family of wanted terrorists and you felt happy. Sometimes for a second you forget the problems with the world, everything for just a moment is good again.

But its always hard to forget the things you've done. The people you have killed, ten years ago you couldn't even shoot a gun and now... Well now you're some sort of monster, you can't look at yourself in the mirror without hating what you've become but you keep on killing? You think it's become some kind of natural reaction to danger or a threat to, slit their throat, beat them in with a wrench or... This one you liked to call a 'merciless macdonwald' where you do a shit job at slicing them from their abdomen to their cheeks and then... You need to stop thinking about this, it's not doing you any good for your guilty conscience, what's wrong with you, you freak, you monster, you fucking-

Your thoughts were broken by the door to you and Tommy's shared apartment opening, you jolted up to sit on the uncomfortable couch you were laying on- stupid thing all the springs are broken and theres a patch of damp on one of the pillows. You look up and see tommy with his brother, Joel what a dick he pisses you off so much you should just-

"hey y/n, we wake you?" Tommy asks with a soft smile. "No, no. I was awake, just thinking" you reply, returning the smile.

"Me and Joel are gonna hang out here for a while if thats alright?" You know he's only asking because he knows you and Joel don't tend to get on, but he also knows what you're going to say. "Yeah that's fine." You reply and he smiled back as a silent thank you.

You slowly stand up, getting off of the couch letting out a small groan. You've lost count of the amount of times you've been, hit, punched, scratched, cut, shot at... You could go on forever, but the main point is your body is spotted in bruises and cuts constantly. The bruises are only from people trying to protect themselves against you, they dont want to die you freak. No, no, most of the time they shot or swung first dont pin this on me like I'm some mindless sociopath! At this point you are! Am not! Oh yeah you are, sometimes you barely have the courteousy to put them out of the their misery! How is not actually killing them bad now? You like to watch them writhe around and scream for you to help them don't you, you get off on it! Yeah you do! Don't deny it!

"you gonna keep starin' at that wall or are you gonna answer me?" You quickly swung your neck around to see who was talking, it was joel. "What did you say?" You ask trying to be polite and answer whatever he had to say to you. "Jeez, someone's losin' it. Tommy's got rations." He remarks and walks away. Losing it? Losing it? You're not losing it! Hes losing it!

"I'm not losing it asshole. Can't a guy think anymore?" You bark back. "Guys! Don't do this now, lets just eat and be functional for just a second?" Tommy quickly says before Joel could get the chance to say something snarky back at you.

You grab your rations, a little too aggressively but only because Joel still has you riled up and angry, and you go sit on the couch again. The food is some disgusting tasteless jerky, honestly doesn't make you any less hungry and you wonder what it's made out of.

"you ever thought about leaving the fireflies" you overhear Joel asking Tommy. "No, we fight for a good cause. You don't like FEDRA either Joel, we're just using our hate into something productive. Y/n gets it." Tommy replies and you turn around to look at him. "Yeah." You say taking the last bite of the whatever-the-hell jerky you got given, with that you get up and go to the sink to get a drink. FEDRA might be fascist assholes but they do still give you running water..

"y/n only gets it because hes a firefly to. And you really believe killing people is productive?" Joel snaps back and tommy. "It was productive before, dont talk to me like you're innocent Joel." Tommy replies, he sounds like hes losing his mind here. "You're right, but at least i stopped."

"will you shut the fuck up Joel?! I swear to God you can't go a single second without saying something and being an asshole to anyone, it makes me want to-" you shut your mouth knowing your thoughts were about the get the better of you, you can't let that happen, you can't.

"want to what, y/n. Go on, what d'you wanna do to me?" Joel says, you can't tell what hes trying to do - is he trying to get a rise out of you? Make you say something you'll regret? You can't say what you're thinking Tommy will hate you! Tell him.

Tell him every last little thing you've dreamt of doing to him, all the disgusting images in your head of you killing him. Cmon dont be such a pussy-

You quickly storm out of the apartment, you can't, you can't let your thoughts get the best of you. Be stronger than your thoughts, they're in your head, they're harmless, nothing to worry about, they're -

Suddenly you bump into someone causing you both to stumble. "Shit, I'm so sorry! Here let me help you" you say quickly grabbing the persons hand and helping them up. Once they were up you finally got a good look at them, you'd bumped into a really handsome man- he had blonde hair and gorgeous blue/grey eyes you could just drown in. You felt yourself getting embarrassed.

"thankyou, hey it's no problem, things happen." He says with a bright smile, he reminded you of a golden retriever. "Hey uh... What's you're name?" You ask him, sounding quite timid against your own will. "Names Charlie, you?"

"y/n" you reply still admiring him.

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

Two years, you and Charlie had been attached by the hip he asked you to be his boyfriend a month after meeting him. Spending these two years with him is up their in the best times of your life, but the standards for that list dropped significantly at the start of the infection so just having a relationship with someone feels like heaven.

Though, recently he's started becoming distant. So, when Marlene asked the two of you to leave the QZ and search for supplies needed to create some more explosives you were over the moon, hoping it'll bring you two closer together again.

"y/n ans charlie, you two can go together to collect supplies." Marlene said pointing at the two of you. You smiled at Charlie, but he seemed disappointed "you're kidding right? You're putting him with me? Can't i go with Tommy or something?" Charlie pleaded. "What do you mean? Is working with me really that bad?" You ask, offended.

"stop, both of you. You're working together thats final." She ordered, then showing you the route on the map.

An hour later you and Charlie were outside the QZ, it was late and you still had a mile before the first rest stop. You decide asking Charlie about his reaction earlier might be a good idea. "Charlie." You begin.

"what do you want?" He replies with malice. "What the hell is your problem with me? We're supposed to be a couple but you're treating me like shit!"

"you ever thought maybe you're an annoying peice of shit and deserve to be treated like one?" Charlie says without hesitation. You go silent, confused why suddenly he hates your guts. But, you start thinking- he's always pushed limits with how he treats you, you were just blinded with love. You think back to a time where you were showering together, when he suddenly put his hand to your throat at first you laughed and thought he wanted to have a bit of fun. But then he applied some pressure, he just kept putting more and more pressure onto your throat until you couldn't breathe, when he pulled away he just left you in the bathroom with your neck already bruising.

Now you see why Tommy only ever speaks to him when hes been forced to work with him, tommy realised much earlier how he was treating you, he tried to warn you why didnt you do anything? Stupid, stupid, stupid, maybe you wouldn't have fallen in love with him and you wouldn't be in this situation.

You kept your mouth shut until you got the the first rest point, Charlie flopped onto a shitty old couch while you got to work setting up a fire and your sleeping bags.

"why do you have such a problem with me?" You finally ask. "Dunno you just piss me off, stop asking questions." He spits. "What? No! I want to know what i ever did to you to deserve treatment like this!" You start feeling extremely pissed off.

Charlie jolts up and walks towards you "Maybe it's all these God damn fucking questions you keep asking thats making me treat you this way! I don't want to have to be such a dick! You're making me be this way!" He screams at you, some of his spit getting on your face. The argument gets progressively more heated before Charlie seemingly snaps and hits you around the face and pushes you to the ground with a strong grip on your throat. You're gasping for air while clawing at his hands.

Get out of his grip and rip him to fucking shreds, you want to you know you want to. He'll kill you if you dont kill him! Show him that side of you only Tommy's seen!

That was it, you kicked Charlie's crotch with all your might causing him to scream and jolt backwards. You quickly scrambled to your feet and grab a metal pipe laying in a scrap pile next to you. All you see is red as you close in on him. Blood splatters onto your torso and face, soon you were seeing a sight you were familiar with. A person on the floor Infront of you with their face bashed in - unrecognisable. When you came to your senses you started to hyperventilate, what had you done, you killed Charlie.

Your only idea was to grab your gun put it to your chin and fire. Your gun was in your back pocket, you grab it and put it to your chin, your hand shaking, your breathing frantic and tears leaving your eyes. Do it. And you fired.

You were still alive? What the hell was going on? It all came to you as you felt you face and saw your own blood on your hand, and then a suddenly twang of pain on your face. You had missed, you had missed and the bullet just left a wound up your face. Fuck. Idiot how the hell do you miss your own head?!

You pack your stuff up leaving every peice of Charlie's belongings there and quickly went in the direction of the QZ, you thought if you run fast enough it'll still be dark when you get through.

A couple hours later you had made it through and into the QZ, the sun was rising as you entered you and Tommy's apartment. Joel was asleep on the couch, you coming through the door didnt wake him so he had clearly taken something to fall asleep. You woke Tommy though and as you were catching your breath against the door a frightened Tommy stood opposite to you.

"shit, y/n what the fuck happened." He asks with his face covered in worry. He took a few steps towards you. You can't even fucking trust yourself not to kill him, your best friend, you're deranged don't go near him. "Don't! Just don't! Stay there!" Tears started to escape from your eyes again when you couldn't catch your breath. You directed yourself to the sink and immediately washed your hands and face, you kept trying to catch your breath but ended up just vomiting into the sink letting all of the anxiety, regret and worry out. Only then were you able to gasp and catch your breath and you collapsed to the floor leaning against the cabinet behind you and your face in your hands. Don't act like you feel guilty, you enjoyed bashing his skull in.

Tommy approached you. "Can i come closer?" You only nodded and he sat next to you. "Can i ask? I was thinkin' if i know to i can help tell Marlene once you've slept." You sat there in silence for a moment longer. Why did you let him get closer? Who knows what you'll do.

"i killed him" you blurted out. "Who? Charlie?" You nodded. "He, hit me. He put his hands on my neck he tried to - " you quickly took a deep breath not wanting to freak yourself out again. "He try to kill you?" You nodded. Yeah thats right you killed him it's all your fault.

Tommy went silent before asking "are you worried Marlene is going to react bad?" You just nod again, worrying any words that come out are going to be accompanied with tears. "She wont, trust me y/n. She tends to be pretty reasonable and she damn well likes you I'll tell ya that." He reassured you. Hes lying to make you feel better, Marlene is going to hate you just like everyone else."Right." You finally say. "Well that slice on your face is pretty bad, let me see what i can do." Tommy grabbed the box of smuggled in first aid supplies and managed to give you a couple stitches and patch up most of it, though it was awkward with the direction the bullet went in. It meant the wound was deep and bleeding quite a bit and patching it up is awkward and difficult. "Sure is gonna leave a nasty scar." He mentions. "I know." You say simply. "Well you should rest up, wake me if you need anything. Please." "Alright Tommy." And with that you both went to bed, but you barely slept, all you saw was Charlie's bashed in skull.

The next day you explained to Marlene what happened, not letting a single emotion slip infront of her. Tommy was right, she was very reasonable and you appreciated it but she had to send Tommy and a newer firefly out to get the supplies you failed to get meaning you'd be alone in the apartment for at least a day. You'll figure out a way to keep your head occupied. It'll be okay, Marlene took the situation well and Tommy is only away for a day. Or you could try again.. do it right this time.

You wished tommy the best of luck as he set off with the younger man and then made your way back to your apartment flopping onto the couch.

Shit it was quiet. Occupying your head was going to be a bit more difficult than you thought. You got up and got onto your hands and knees pulling up a floor board, under it was smuggled medications and weapons but also some books. You'd managed to smuggle in some random books you must've read over a thousand times. You picked up a book that was written by love craft, you remember finding this one in a vintage bookstore you and tommy set up shop in one time on a supply run, the innards of the book made you chuckle so you let your wants get the best of you and took it. Reading that book for the first time it was so strange it really made you laugh, read that! It'll make you feel much better! Do it. Try again.

You let out a small chuckle as you put the floor board back and sat on the couch opening the book up. Once you'd settled in reading the book the door suddenly opened to show a pretty soggy Joel, you hadn't noticed that it was raining outside. Joel! Now you're not so lonely this will be nice! Make it a murder suicide, you hate him, you could kill him and then yourself!

"wheres Tommy?" He asks out of breath.

"out on a supply run, why? Something happen?" You ask getting worried but he just shakes his head. "No, im just getting old is all." He closes the door and walks over to the countertop to grab the cloth and attempt to dry off his hair. "The hell happened to your face?" He asks setting the cloth down. "Just dont ask, not in the mood." You reply still trying to read your book.

Joel went quiet and the room was filled with an awkward silence.

"y'know, five years ago... I tried to... Well." Joel finally says. You turn around to look at him. "Yeah?" "Yeah. I guess, it was a mix of everything I'd lost and... Not seeing any kind of future for myself in here." You felt a twang of anxiety, not used to the honestly joel was showing you. "Basically i know what you're goin' through" he finishes. "I, uh. Thanks joel." The room went silent again but this time more comfortable than the last. This is nice, he really seems to like you.

"what ya reading?" Joels asks you as he picks up the cloth again to try and dry off his clothes as well as possible. You get up and walk over placing the book on the counter top. "Lovecraft, found it in a vintage bookstore on a supply run with Tommy." You give him a smug look which he chuckles at. "You can borrow it if you want, not sure if you're a big reader, i sure wasn't but man it passes time." You push the book a bit closer to him, he accepts. "Alright, I'll try it out but if its bad im pinning it on you." You both laugh. Wow he's just incredible, he has a lovely smile and a lovely laugh.

For a second you forgot how much you hated him, you kind of felt a bit warm inside when talking to him. It felt almost like butterflies but, you'd feel to guilty to admit that to yourself you just killed your ex boyfriend it would be sick to move on just like that. Then plus, Joel isn't gay, he hated your guts before now so theres no real chance.

"i would've done the same." Joel says. "What do you mean?" You look at him confused. "I overheard a few things when you had that conversation with Tommy. I would've done the same."

You look at the ground, do you really want to have this conversation right now? "You dont have to say anythin' but just so you know, i think you did the right thing, noone who thinks treating a person they're meant to love like that is right deserves that and worse." He puts a hand on your shoulder making you shiver. You look at him, he had his usual cold stare but you could sort of see some kind of care behind his gaze it made you feel warm again and fuzzy.

You couldn't help pull him into an embrace which he reciprocated almost instantly, you can't imagine how touch starved he must be so this hug might've just been what both of you needed...

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

A/n: ANOTHER long one sorry bout that, just would like to take my time with this series and make sure its pretty damn detailed. the last thing I'd ever want is for someone to read my work not knowing something is in it and accidentally getting triggered- so also if i have missed any warnings PLEASE tell me 🙇

Also tysm all of you for the support, was fully expecting part 1 to flop y'all got me giggling and kicking my feet fr 🤭 hope you enjoyed.

#pedro pascal #joel miller x male reader #pedro pascal x male reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller #x male reader

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historia-vitae-magistras · 9 months

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I think it might have been deleted with your old blog or buried somewhere but would you consider touching on Matthew having chronic anemia again? Idk I have chronic anemia and it's just weirdly comforting hearing your ideas for Matthew also suffering it

Oh man, yeah, I have thoughts. I just used this post to like brain dump 400 years of Matt meatsack headcanons so whoooo enjoy. Anemia was very common throughout history. Religious fasting, low meat consumption, famines, irregular food supply, blood loss, infection, cold exposure, lack of sunlight— you name it and it can cause anemia. I've got a friend who jokes that being anemic or vitamin deficient is just the Canadian default but to be fair its that isn't special or specifically Canadian. At least we get sun in summer. Sometimes. This got REALLY long like so long. I seriously did 400 years. asking me about the history of medicine basically makes me a word vomit machine. i am so sorry in advance.

I think about it as something that has often crept up on him throughout his life, like it will for most people at some point or another. It added a nice layer of misery too his existence. I don't think it was ever life threatening on its own but it did some damage over time or when combined with other things.

It's a reflection of carelessness if not neglect. I think he was often a healthy, happy child when someone gave a shit. Most of the people who did were his own, the few French Canadians. Occasionally Alfred, occasionally Alasdair, occasionally Francis, occasionally Arthur. These efforts were, however, mostly sporadic. Francois was desperate to squeeze out a profit, its often written that while France itself boomed, Quebec was a national embarrassment. When Matt and Quebec itself were failing, and they usually were, Francis left him to his own devices. Sometimes cared for sometimes not. This was the ancient regime, this era of intricate at and rococo and excess and high sophistication. Matt, a backwoods money sap was about as interesting as the smell of piss in Paris or Versailles. He didn't get hit, he got fed as well as anyone else, he tried to be useful. Here the anemia is seasonal. Shit food storage, lent eliminating what nutrition there was in the diet of the late winter, hard chores, cold weather. Late winter and early spring was always hard and I think it just hit him harder. It didn't matter though, being freezing tired and anxious because he's got one functioning blood-cell didn't matter if he had something to do.

It was really bad after the hand over. Years of hardship was crowned by the British and the French armies both burning Canadian crops and cutting off hunting fishing or any other method of obtaining food. Hauling canoes, marching. It wasn't uncommon for soldiers to just drop dead and I'm sure Matt did at some point.

The 15 years between the capitulation, the hand over and Alfred leaving were probably the best of Matt's life in some ways. He ate better under Arthur's hand. He didn't really get treated the same as Alfred but he ate as well and he was pitiful enough and Alasdair engaged enough he was only doing light, actually age appropriate chores, usually eating as much as he wanted and sleeping enough, usually snuggled up to Alfred's side. He started growing a little bit.

It didn't last. Enter another decade of war. An invasion of Quebec, being hauled up and down the American colonies as a paranoid Arthur loathed him for still holding affection for Alfred whiling counting on him to be disloyal and bail Alfred's ass out at least twice. No one pays attention to the quiet unassuming child always half out of sight so Matt got away with a lot. These years were hard when he was with Arthur. Shit food, not enough rest, abject emotional misery. He had it better than Alfred at least but thats not saying much. Shortly after the war turned south as the Americans slowly began to get the upper hand, Arthur dragged Matt with him. And the anemia contributed to the malaria and on a hot day he fainted, slid right out of the saddle and hit the ground. Arthur sent him north and didn't speak to him until Yorktown.

The years between Yorktown and New South Wales were pretty bad. The American revolution hadn't resolved the economic problems that Matt's acquisition had caused, there was no money to squeeze out of Canada, and the economy sucked. He was a part of the household. He did some chores, got fed two meals a day like everyone else, had somewhere to sleep. This is where I think a cycle kind of began. On the odd occassion someone was spending time with him, he got more or better food, affection, and with more energy he was bright and a bit less disappointing. Next to Alfred, everyone looks kind of dull but the cold, anxious lethargy of anemia made him look even worse. He's uninterested, doesn't initiate much, not very talkative, has to be forced out of bed. He seems lazy, stubborn, not particularly bright and that just adds to poor returns on any attention he ever does get. He feels like shit most of the time. The anemia doesn't help but he's just depressed in general. When Alasdair visits or someone acknowledges his existence and feeds him something with an actual vitamin in it, he has a little spirit in him again and got the cat for instance and Arthur gives him a whole 30 seconds of interest for the first time in probably a solid decade. He also fucked off back to Halifax without anyone noticing, working his way back on a ship and living pretty rough.

In a fit of frustration with how Matt only really seems to ever be happy when Alasdair is around, Arthur takes him to sea. Matt's a good sailor at first and Arthur is fairly pleased but long times at sea with shit food breaks down Matt's attention span, dropping those iron levels along with the vitamin c and everything else that plagued the average sailor. A vang line takes a chunk out of him and he gets knocked overboard in the process and Arthur dives in after him and kind of realizes, oh shit, thats the last kid he's got and even if he's pathetic he's better than nothing so Matt gets upgraded from a constantly damp hammock on the orlop deck to a fairly cosy cot in the captain's cabin. Matt receives a whole fuck given from Arthur, some decent food, heals up and its the perkiest Arthur's ever seen him. Instead of a dead-eyed pointless money suck, here's a bright, eager to please lad who hangs on Arthur's every word.

There are more wars with the French but Matt is loyal and by the very end of the century, the British royal family visits Canada and Queen Victoria's father actually took a French Canadian mistress iirc. Matt's growing a little, he's getting fed, he's getting attention. Arthur takes an interest, even lives with him sometimes, writes now and again. There are still some lean years, and he was really sick a few times in the late winter and early spring and once with cholera but its a lot better than it's ever been. He has another bad bout of it when Arthur throws him to Australia after the rebellion, shivering in the heat of the antipodean sun because he hasn't had a decent meal since he got on the ship six months ago. He was in bad shape if nothing next to Arthur when he earned his place back when he and Alfred bailed the imperial dipshit from the soup pot of HMS Terror. After that he's pretty good for a few years, living more like the son of an English country squire or whatever the fuck Arthur's pretending to be.

He doesn't have problems again until after he spends a few months with Alfred after Alfred got galloping consumption while burning the shit out of himself during Sherman's march to the sea. Alfred gets better, buts the lid on the whole Fenian thing and fucks off west. Matt's pretty healthy at this point, but spending a few months with a dying TB patient eventually leads to the inevitable and when the economy tanks just after confederation, its a whole ass free fall. He doesn't really mention it to anyone, but eventually he can't avoid Arthur's summons, dies on the old man's favourite sofa and they spend a lot of time at the sea side shoveling food at Matt until he doesn't look like a corpse. Things are good and stable for a decent period after that. He still has the odd small problem because he's slowly turning into a caffeine junky and eating with coffee and tea blocks iron consumption but mostly he's good. No major problems. He gets taller, things are going okay.

World War one he gets a nasty drop in iron every-time he's gassed, its fairly common and worsened existing issues. He does okay with the help of a lot of cocaine and coffee and tea until the kansas flu which can cause just all the anemia's just all of them. Not really unique to him but whoooo its a familiar feeling for Matt. It never really went completely away during the 20s or 30s. He was in pretty bad shape but he's kind of used to being in pretty bad shape by the great depression hits and the drop is bad but it isn't quite as catastrophic for him as it is Alfred.

World War Two has some rough moments, but in the grand scheme of things he's fine compared to the rest of the world. Post war goes pretty good. One short bout after Suez when he's pretty much exiled from the family and stops eating but Arthur gets a grip and he's good plus Jan's answer to most problems is calories so its pretty okay. Matt still doesn't know whats going on with that though.

It probably becomes the worst its ever been in the 70s and 80s as he and Jan drift, he has political issues at home, his foreign policy is increasingly isolated from the rest of the anglosphere, and he's doing a lot of drugs. Like a lot. Not eating in spurts. Not sleeping in spurts. He's careful enough it doesn't show but when things get so bumpy he starts going feral in the woods around this time it shows up in force and continues to be a problem when he's out there, when he's depressed, or just on some pretty intense green outs where he doesn't really pay attention to reality. Or he just doesn't give a shit. I feel like Zee only finally succeeded in getting him to do some blood work in the 2000s. Might have been when he had one of his depressive not really eating spurts, picked up something bad and was pretty helpless when the clock started to melt somewhere around 39 degrees. She took the opportunity to tap his veins like a maple to do a blood count lol the man is shocked when doing the bare minimum for his meatsack actually helps you know, keep him alive and healthy and not catastrophically depressed.

#Arthur || stone set in the silver sea #Matthew || my country is winter #Arthur and the children || bilge rat and his bouncing baby bilge rats #meatsack mechanics || the sociology and biology of nations #matt & grass || smoking the northern lights #matt and ferality || 80% uninhabited 100% uninhibited #Alfred and Matt || lonely boys with the longest borders

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strawglicks · 4 months

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Sorry for the ramble in your inbox incoming- I'm a really huge fan of your analysis type posts like the ones about Cathal and recently Flint ;A; So I hope its ok to maybe throw in my own 2 cents about Cogs/their society- (Sorry this gets rambly I thought about this last night and writing this like an hour after waking up lol)

I think what alot of people kind of (I wouldnt say ignore- more of:) don't really get is that I dont believe characters like Cathal or Flint have bad tendencies because they really want to in a way, (I kind of worded that poorly but point is) but because their society rewards and encourages that type of behavior. I think you said something kind of similar on Cathals post- But especially for Flint, whose a Bossbot (Who are literally the embodiment of a toxic workplace and elitism. I believe a old snippet from the TTO magazines says "They have no real skills of their own, just the ability to push down others and stay on top!" Or something to that nature.) he has to be demanding and imposing. There is no benefit to him in being kind. (Like looking at Misty for example) And don't get me wrong I don't believe that if Flint and Cathal were removed from Cog society they'd be better/objectively nicer (Like Flint not being condescending to Toons and Cathal not making people do things for him and being encouraged to try) But I do wonder how much of it is pressure, or how much of it is egged on and rewarded. Atleast in the aspects it relates to how they treat others.

(..And also I wonder what happens to Cogs that don't get jobs and are seen as ..not functioning. Since Graham was freaking the hell out in "Meeting Of Two Minds" over the possibility of not getting the job. I have a whole thing about this actually in my oc lore but thats another thing entirely I'll write about someday I swear)

Also I gasped when I saw the doodle of Graham in the MSI shirt finally a MSI listener Graham truther. I think he'd like the album "How I Learned To" and of course "You'll Rebel To Anything". I associate him mainly with the songs "Lights Out", "On It", and "You're No Fun Anymore" :p (This has been my favorite band since I was like 13 and now I get to spill all my opinions xD) I always imagined him doing the guitar backbend their bassist does! And my final hc is that Flint plays bass and Graham plays the main guitar. I think it fits them .. some people overlook bass when its actually pretty hard to learn from what I hear and vital to the song. (Like heres Feel Good Inc w/o the bass.. feels wrong x_x)

Anyways thanks for reading ;A; take care and happy new year!

RAHHHH EATING THIS UP YUM YUM YUM YES YES YOU GET IT

THe biggest issue with Cogs Inc is that it REWARDS and ENCOURAGES these poor behaviors, worsening these characters as people. ESPECIALLY cathal considering the position of power they’re in. I’m sure it applies to a ton of other cogs too, but unfortunately I haven’t gotten to them yet bc I’m not as insane abt them . LMAO

And yeah since cogs are literally built for work, it’s a wonder what happens to those who can’t find a job as easily as others. Hoping that gets built on since it’s clear in MOTM that these cogs have to actually apply and go to interviews and probably face some trial and error to land a job, just like people IRL.

ALSO. THE BAND HCS. I love it and you’re SOOOO RIGHT about the backbend that is so grahamcore. And yes I’m pretty sure Flint does play bass, I think his creator mailman said smth abt that on their blog . AND IM SO GLAD YOU BROUGHT UP FEEL GOOD INC bc i did draw flint in a demon days shirt in that same animatic . And ive def drawn them in the same shirt a couple times in the past too . I’ve always imagined him to be a Gorillaz fan, maybe graham too

Anyway ty for these thoughts im eating them up and leaving no crumbs . I love when ppl come to ramble in my inbox bc discussing this stuff IS SO FUN and a good outlet for me esp when i might be having art burnout rn .

#toontown #flint bonpyre #graham payser #cathal bravecog #asks

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canmom · 2 months

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brain operating notes

the thing with ADHD is that it's super paradoxical. I've spent the last 72 hours or so doing almost nothing but making minute tweaks to this fansub, stuff like hand tracking signs in perspective at 800% zoom. it's the 'hyperfocus', and it can feel like a superpower. only the thing is I have no control over when it kicks in and what it chooses to focus on.

I had work to be done on Friday, work I enjoy and is novel and interesting, but this fansub project just jumped into my brain and took over the wheel and said 'you will not do anything else until this is finished'.

this is why the notion of 'executive function' is useful. I think of it like a unifying thing required to both get myself to do a thing that is not particularly novel or engaging in this moment, and to stop myself doing a thing that engages the hyperfocus because I have to eat or whatever. this feels like a finite resource, that gradually replenishes over time.

of course we're all in metaphor here. I don't actually think there's a finite reserve of some substance that I can use to get me to do things that aren't immediately stimulating. but being equipped with this metaphor lets me think of it like... ok, I will let my brain just do its thing and ride the rollercoaster now, so that I can have the wherewithal to do (difficult but important thing) down the line. or, I've been really pushing myself to do stuff recently, I need to take some time to recover the reserves. how good is this model? i'm not sure. probably not great, but it is a model.

anyway things that trigger hyperfocus are a bit arbitrary but common features tend to be...

novel: a thing that I haven't done before is intrinsically exciting - as long as I have some idea of how to get going. in my previous job I'd find excuses to do stuff like 'animate in Blender' or 'hack the graph drawing tool' just to add a bit of spice to rote tasks. thankfully my current job is full of new exciting things.

a steady drip feed of small successes: a big, daunting task is hard to get started on. something that has a clear avenue for recognisable, steady progress is a lot more manageable. 'write the animation controller' is unclear. 'make another animation' feels like progress, and I know where I'm at with it, so I will tend to choose that one given the option.

urgent: if the deadline is imminent and there really is no other option but to crack on with it, the anxiety gives a force multiplier on executive function. which results in a lot of procrastination leading up to mad last minute crunch. it's a pattern that I hate, not least because it's hard to say how long anything will actually take, but is hard to shake.

social: if it is for the benefit of a friend, or I get to show off a bit, it is way easier to get going with it. is it because I am kinda lonely and any time someone wants to spend time with me it feels like I dare not refuse because who knows when they will again? is it because I love to be praised for doing an impressive thing? idk maybe. however this is double-edged because if I feel I'm making something unimpressive I will be motivated to try and make it bigger and more complex, dragging things out, which might lead to not finishing the thing at all.

you can probably kind of see how computer games are a bit of a cognitohazard. especially open-ended games that don't have a finite built-in endpoint. I've gotten better at managing that now.

there are degrees of hyperfocus. there is the maxed out 'I will not eat or sleep until I finish this' mode. there is also the 'I have a new obsession' mode, which is a bit less intense.

the other thing with hyperfocus is that it is time-limited. at some point you just burn out on it and after that it's really hard to jump back into a thing. the unfinished projects on my hard drive are in most cases things I went nuts over for a few weeks and then dropped like a hot stone. this sucks because making anything worthwhile requires sustained effort over a long period.

I've been trying meds but so far no luck. they've currently got me off the meds taking baseline measurements while they figure out what to try next. though apparently the dose of dexamfetamine they had me on is like... so low that it's not surprising I didn't feel it.

gonna have to ask them about it next time I see them. because right now this whole thing feels like a bit of a mean joke. I'm staying in London for the sake of meds that could help, because it would take upwards of a year to get into another clinic, but what's the point if they're not even giving the meds a real shot?

but if there is any chance I can get working meds, I've got to try for it, because I don't think I'll ever achieve much of anything within the limitations of adhd, at least not without finding some new mechanisms to keep me on track. (though 'if I don't do this I might lose my job/the game won't be as good as it could be' works a bit as an extrinsic motivator)

#adhd

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mueritos · 2 years

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hmngh. I have therapy today but Im going to bring up what I feel like are my autistic traits to my therapist. Inserting a read more cuz this got long, but if youre autistic, I would really appreciate some input/advice. This is just so long because I desperately am just searching for some sort of validation or anything really, but I guess its also practice to advocate for myself.

She has said in past sessions that if I were autistic i’d be too “high functioning”, but I didnt have the knowledge or words or the introspection then to explain myself better. Ive been reading, taking lots of tests, watching a lot of videos, and reading up on autistic experiences. I relate to quite a bit of it and it has been both validating and equally as confusing. I keep doubting myself at every little thing, like doesn’t everyone feel like this? But i am an introverted possibly autistic person surrounded by friends who are extroverts with adhd, and the differences in our experiences has always been normal to me through the “introvert vs extrovert” perspective. Still, I wore my noise cancelling headphones to a music festival in my home town when out with friends and I felt like it really helped me calm down from the noise and the massive amount of people. Ive been letting myself rock when Im doing things, even if my mom points it out and tells me to stop. Ive been saying no to social gatherings for months now under the guise of “i have work to do”, but really its because I genuinely don’t know how to talk to people when its more than 3 of us in a gathering. I end up getting overwhelmed when people are talking over each other, and its always been worse when they’re drinking. I can handle my extrovert friends sober, but drunk is another story. Suddenly I feel the urge to cover my ears when someone says something a little too loud, I cringe when they speak over each other. I’ve had past experiences of people being excited/loud and I want to cringe from the noise and cover my ears, but I can’t because that would look rude. I don’t express myself the same way as others, and I am constantly confused by questions like “are you excited for __?” or “are you sad to be leaving ___?” No? I’m not, I genuinely don’t know what excitement feels like. I like when things have a start and an end, and I will never feel sad for something to end. I’ve stumped my friends and family when I told them I didn’t feel anything toward studying abroad, toward university, etc and etc. Sure I can feel momentary excitement and happiness, but it’s always been internal. I stress when I receive gifts because I worry I don’t look happy enough.

Like...it’s not normal for people to become irrationally angry or agitated when people burst into my room while Im drawing, right? It breaks my focus, and it’s so frustrating because now I can’t go back to what I was doing. I get irrationally angry when people express their happiness or excitement, because I don’t understand it. It confuses me, like why can’t you keep that inside like me? The last time I expressed true happiness was when I saw an email for a potential client, and I stared shaking my hands. It felt so good, but I would never do that in front of other people. “I’m excited” isn’t even part of my vocabulary is what I say often, but it’s true. It doesnt make sense to me to let everyone in the room know how im feeling. My emotions are very stagnant and I often don’t feel what I am actually feeling until theyre at extremes. I struggle with eating on time or if theres no routine. It’s why summer has always been the worst for me, because theres no longer classes or planned breaks for me to follow. I have mental schedules for each day and if they don’t get done or are disrupted, I get really upset because I expected for things to be done. I wasn’t always good at group work, and I had to learn really hard to be a good leader and not take control of everything. Most of my language and body language is based off what I learned from watching TV, and I remember struggling to be understood by others because of that and because of my speech impediment, which I still struggle with now. I remember getting in trouble in school over things that I thought were socially acceptable because I saw them being done in shows, like being “mean” to people. I followed rules very strictly and other kids found me annoying for it because I would snitch on them for it. I only really ever had one close friend up to high school, where thankfully I found a group of people who were just as weird and as queer as I was.

I constantly get asked if I’m okay because I look upset or sad. Apparently my RBF is that strong, because people have even been intimidated by me. I don’t look people in the eye when I am walking around, I kinda just stomp around because I’m faking being confident because I get so anxious by people staring at me. Eye contact has felt invasive for a long time, especially by strangers. I need large amounts of alone time to feel okay. The worst was when I was working 8am to 9pm for a BIPOC/Queer four day program for my campus. That was literal hell. I have never talked to so many people for so long in my life, and I hope I never have to ever again. I didn’t know it wasn’t normal for someone to get so socially exhuasted that you just withdraw completely. I couldn’t fathom speaking after a few hours, getting words out felt literally painful. All I could do when I got home was sleep and do it all over again. If someone tried talking to me when I got home, I was agitated and couldn’t control it. We had to take group photos and I couldn’t even fake a smile; my face muscles hurt and they began twitching. My inability to fake emotions has always been a problem, and Ive had facial twitching from trying to smile in the past during parties and other gatherings. I also feel like I hurt people when I tell them I dont miss them. I don’t think Ive ever felt like Ive missed anyone. I am perfectly fine on my own, and I think my independence makes other people feel like I dont love them. I struggle in romantic relationships because I feel like I dont show affection in a very traditional sense. Light touching feels awful, but when my boyfriends lays on top of me, it’s like I’m at peace and it feels awesome.

idk. I cud go on and on about this but my ignorance toward social situations, my sensory issues that I cant hide anymore, my difficulty with feeling emotions, and I suppose the way my intelligence was always used as a way to ignore all of these issues; it all has been catching up to me. Maybe it was the pandemic. I loved being at home, but the lack of routine made me depressed. I love wearing masks so people dont look at me and I can hide my deadpan face. Idk. Its just been a bit overwhelming lately as I let myself slowly be more in tune with whats happening. I dont know if i want an official diagnosis, but I guess I just want to feel like im not a freak for being different than my peers. Ive always felt behind them

If u read this far pheww thanks but now u know a lot more about my pysche than some of my friends haha. Its just been hard because my friends are starkly different than me, even if they are ND as well.

o well. guess ill figure things out

#muertotalks #asd #we'll see how todays therapy session goes #i was looking at my old middle skool diary and i got kinda sad #i was struggling so hard to fit and i was so depressed #i couldnt understand why my mind hated me and why it was so hard to be in school #sure i was feeling gender dysphoria without knowing it #but so much of what i reread sounded like...autistic burnout...#idk #we'll see #ive always been the weird kid #boutta add another weird warrior cat kid to the autistic ranks

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asukamood · 2 years

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Hello everyone! How are you doing?

Today is one of my friends’ birthday and since it’s a huge fan of Drueswap and Blue angst, I have decided to write that enormous 3291 words long of that (to give you a reference, most of the fics I posted here are between 2k and 2,3k long). The main idea of the plot doesn’t actually belong to me, for context, that same friend had told me about a Drue fic where Blue had barged into Dream’s office looking like a mess because he had just encountered somebody he did not want to see again and told me about how much it regret not being able to find it again.

Since it loved it so much, I’ve decided to write it the thing in my own style to compensate for its loss.

Enjoy the absolute chaos below those three stars.

(PS: There’s a kissing scene in this and I literally looked like a tomato while writing it, I am so weak :’)

PSS: I have checked the Drueswap tag every single day and not one new post appeared, am I the only existing Drue supply on Tumblr or are the others just not appearing for some reasons??)

Warnings: Physical abuse/violence, murder attempt without remorse, blood, several mental breakdowns, implied eating disorder (it’s really light) and heavy Blue angst.

***

It was late in the afternoon, probably around 2 PM. Although it was hard to tell because of the gloomy weather outside, plus, Dream was too focused on his paperwork to take a look at the watch on his wrist.

Water droplets crashed onto the windows behind him, regularly hitting the glass shield that silently screamed at each impact, the pain only manifested by the faint sound of bumping. In the chorus of the rain came the main vocals, the storm.

Blinding light flashed from time to time, illuminating briefly the cold room that was Dream’s office and casting shadows after being deviated by the imposing figure that was his body and desk. The light was only the face, the quiet partner that ran away in silence at an impressive speed.

The thunder roared after it, its voice reaching the ground and shaking it because of its sheer force. It was trying in vain to catch up to it, it was too slow and the lightning too fast.

That whole show had been going on for hours now and by the looks of it, the thunderstorm’s rage wasn’t going to lessen any time soon, in fact, it only seemed to grow bigger. Its irritated and icy cold breath blew at the trees outside which swayed in fear of being the Lightning’s next target as the light and thunder ran more frequently, screaming after one another in a deafening duet.

With that melancholic climate, most people would tremble with the trees. Some quite liked the sight of the Heavens’ tears racing against one another on their windows, others didn’t give it much thought and only found the noises mildly annoying when extended for too long.

Dream Von Licht just so happened to belong to that part of the population.

However, the continuation of the rain’s drum wasn’t what had him have his eyebrows furrowed or his left-hand tapping nervously on the wooden platform.

At one point, he finally gave in to the temptation and stopped his endless scribbling to glance at the time displayed on his watch.

It was 2 PM, or in other words, an hour after Blue’s usual appearance. Yet, the clock may continue to click its tongue, the man in blue has still yet to show up. To say that Dream was awaiting his arrival would be the truth a lie, while he didn’t mind his company, he didn’t need Blue to be here with him every week to function correctly.

The reason why he hasn’t shown up yet may be because of that pretty heavy rain outside. With weather like that, no one would want to drag themselves in the rain just to flirt with somebody, it made sense that he would rather spend the day at home doing something else like watching a TV show with a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate upon his lips.

That reasoning was completely logical.

So why did he still feel like something was amiss here?

A frustrated groan escaped him. He picked his pen back up before he started writing swiftly on the paper again, trying to get his mind to focus on the task at hand instead of fretting over Blue’s whereabouts.

Just as his stiff shoulders finally began to relax, he heard on his side the sizzling of a glitchy portal opening. The bad feeling that has been haunting him for the past hour decided to explode at that moment, soul pounding with warnings.

Blue never used a portal to get here.

The portal appeared fast and dissipated just as quickly. Between the two instances, a humanoid creature had the time to throw itself at the winged man, who had the air knocked out of him because of how fast it jumped on him.

That creature was soon identified as Blue but instead of his usual flirty greeting, he only heard heavy breathing as the other held onto him as if his entire existence depended on him.

He was soaked from head to toe, his hair sticking onto his forehead like glue had been used to do that. Dream hesitantly brushed his nape, his skin felt as cold as ice yet his freezing temperature didn’t seem to be the reason why he was shaking like a leaf in the wind or why he was breathing so intensely.

“… Blue?” The politician had said that in a whisper but it still seemed to have broken something inside of the other who let out a heartbreaking sob once the name left his mouth.

As a result, the yoga teacher squeezed him even tighter, burying his face even deeper into his chest as he started to wail like an amputated animal. He couldn’t see much from this angle but on his now wet shirt and jacket, he had suddenly taken note of the presence of crimson stains on them. That was blood.

Moreover, some parts of his hoodie were missing and from the looks of it, they had been torn off by a sharp object, if the thin lines of blood flowing out of cuts were any indication of that.

Dream had no clue what he was supposed to do, it was the first time he had seen the other acting so… vulnerable and he has never been one for emotions, as ironic as it may seem.

After a few seconds, he decided to wrap his arms around him and let his hand rub comforting circles on his back, careful not to brush any of the open wounds on the sensitive skin. He whispered sweet nothings to him as well to try and calm him down.

With his current state, it was needed for Blue to be taken to the medical wing but this idea seemed like wishful thinking at the moment since the other was squeezing him so tightly he felt as if all blood circulation inside of his torso had stopped. He didn’t seem like he was going to let go of him any time soon either.

The rain got even more intense, the furious pattering of the rain shaking even the triple-glazed windows. This whole situation almost felt surreal, who knew Dream would one day have to struggle with comforting someone as unpredictable as Blue?

This whole ordeal had him wanting to chew on his nails to pass the time, he had no clue what he was supposed to do and was only observing himself say things like a lost child.

He was expecting Blue to feel even worse if he were to be truly honest, yet against his beliefs, he had managed to calm him down for his sobs to turn into quiet whimpers and sniffs. Or perhaps it could be because he had no more tears left to shed, this could be a possibility too.

One of Dream’s hands came up to pet the other’s hair, who leaned onto his touch while trying not to look at the blood he had put all over Dream’s clothes. He was already completely messed up both mentally and physically, there was no need for him to start throwing up what little he had eaten that day too.

“I’m going to take you to the medical wing. Is that okay?” Blue let out a tired hum, nodding. He slouched against Dream and then stopped moving, eyes gazing at the horizon. One of them was suspiciously glitching but Dream didn’t think much of it.

Blue was still hugging him but he could move around now, that was something at least. Dream then proceeded to hold him in a bridal style in order to make transportation easier, it’s not like he was going to walk all the way down to the medical wing but he still deemed that necessary. After all, you never know when he’ll have to run away because of something.

In a flick of wrist, they were both sitting on one of the medical wing’s beds. It was unusually silent here, there wasn’t any sound of hushed whispers coming from the doctors nor was there any sound of wincing and whining from patients. It was completely silent, save from Blue’s shaky breath.

Dream frowned, he had completely forgotten about most of the JR staff staying at home today because of the rather disadvantageous weather. The majority of people were unable to use teleportation so it made sense as to why they would want to take the day off in those conditions.

It still didn’t make him want to bang his head against the wall any less though.

Well, he didn’t have much of a choice now did he? He was going to have to take care of those himself. Thankfully though, none of his injuries looked to require any intensive medical treatment like operations or so, most of his cuts looked to be pretty superficial from the looks of it.

He got Blue off of his lap and managed to make him stop clinging onto him for a few with minimal complaint, but that changed when he tried to get up. The shaking man had grabbed Dream’s hand, a worried and anxious look on his face.

“Where are you going?” He asked, voice weak. Dream definitely did not like him feeling that way, he would rather go through a century of the latter making fun of him than seeing him look so frightened.

He turned in his direction, tracing a finger over the back of the other’s hand in hopes it would distract him from whatever demons were haunting him. “I’m just going to get the stuff needed to heal you, I’ll be back soon okay?” Blue’s eyebrows furrowed and his hand squeezed Dream’s even tighter. He didn’t seem to like the idea of staying alone there, even though the other would only be standing a few feet away.

A small sigh escaped him. “Blue, look at me.” Dream’s other hand found its way on Blue’s chin and his pointer lifted it to force the shorter man to look at him. The latter’s azure eyes went up to stare at the other’s golden eyes, unblinking.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, Dream looking like he was debating on his next action. That’s when his fingers left the other’s chin to cup his cheek instead, his face gradually inching closer to the latter’s.

Blue took three solid seconds to realize what was happening and by the time he processed the information, Dream’s lips were already on his. He yelped in surprise, the sound muffled by the kiss.

Dream traced a small circle on his cheek with his thumb, visibly about to stop there. Blue wasn’t having it though so he pulled him down by the collar, put his free hand on the other’s shoulder to keep him there and squeezed his eyes shut, continuing the kiss.

The taller one made a small noise of his own before he kissed back, only pulling away a few seconds later. Blue felt his face heat up, processing what they just did. It’s not like it was the first time they kissed, that event had occurred a couple of times already but somehow that one in particular felt… special.

The winged man turned away, his face having turned red himself. “I’m not going to leave, if that’s what you assumed.” He stated, trying not to let his flustered state influence the way he was talking. He was sure that if his voice wavered just a tiny bit, Blue would never let him live it down. “It won’t take long.”

With that, Dream turned on his heels and walked away, leaving a flustered Blue on the pristine white bed. At least the kiss had the intended effect, whatever had Blue so frightened was now off of his mind and would be for a few.

***

The thunder was still raging on but the couple didn’t seem to notice the rain furiously banging at the windows, way too preoccupied by what they were currently doing. The chestnut-haired one had claimed his place on the other’s lap the second he had come back and had refused to move ever since.

Both his soaked hoodie and shirt laid neatly folded on the nearest chair as his scarf stayed in his hands, Dream having failed to have him let go of it. He knew how important his scarf was to him so he didn’t try to insist any further, him accepting to take it off already being a miracle.

The blonde also had his jacket shed off in order to get the blood away from Blue, who was actively struggling to look away from his own wounds by focusing on the other. He let out a wince though when the tissue immersed in alcohol had touched a cut on his chest, he knew that disinfecting the wound was essential but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Sorry.” Dream apologized quietly, eyes still narrowed in concentration on the task at hand. Treating a wound wasn’t hard per say but when you were this close to the patient, it did become kinda hard. He had done a good job so far though, most of Blue’s wounds have effectively been covered and healed, his face even patched up too.

There were now only some minor ones left, injuries that could be dealt with in a few seconds from now.

Once the final cut was treated, Dream let out a sigh, fixing his posture once more. “There we go, all fixed.” Blue waited until Dream had put down all the bandages and stuff before wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him down so their faces were barely inches apart.

“Angel,” He whined, looking up at Dream with sad puppy eyes. “I’ve been dying the entire duration of that!” He slumped against Dream with a pout before smiling up at him with an innocent face. “Can I get a kiss reward for not making too much noise?”

Dream hummed, feigning thinking about it. “Maybe after a nice shower will that be possible.”

“Together?” He dead panned at him, pretending like his face wasn’t turning pink.

"No. Obviously separately.” He unwrapped the arms around him before standing up, dragging Blue with him and opening a portal. “You can go first, I’ll take what we left there back.”

The other nodded, soon disappearing into the warm golden rift.

***

Blue definitely felt way better now that he took a shower and was basking in the warmth of Dream’s clothes because yes, he let him borrow his clothes this one time. He buried his nose into the fabric, enjoying how the scent of vanilla immediately filled his nozzle.

He let out a pleased breath, before his mood suddenly took a whole 180°C remembering what happened for him to be in that position right now. Before he could dwell any further into it, he heard the lock of the bathroom door click before it swung open, revealing a Dream in a way more comfortable outfit than what he was usually seen wearing.

Blue forced a smile on his face, extending his hands into his direction.

Dream smiled back, walking towards him as requested before he was pulled down into a cuddle. As a response, he only wrapped his arms around him, petting his hair softly. Blue let himself relax into his embrace, repeating in his head that he was with Dream, that he was safe now in hopes he’ll finally believe it.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, silence only broken by the sounds of Blue’s soft breathing and the occasional friction of tissues when one of them would move a leg or something like that.

“Blue?” Dream suddenly called out to him, looking down at him briefly. “Can I ask you something?”

The latter blinked, shifting so their eyes met. He nuzzled into the other’s neck, already having a feeling on what he was going to ask. “Sure, go ahead.” He managed to let out in a casual voice, even though his mind was a complete mess on its own.

“What happened before you went through your portal?” There it was. Blue took a sharp breath, clinging onto Dream’s shirt tightly.

“… It’s a long story.” He eventually said, face still pressed against Dream’s neck. “Before I reply, may I ask some favors out of you?” Dream nodded, now his other hand intertwined with the other’s.

“First, I would like you not to tell anyone else about what I’m going to tell you.” As he spoke, Blue briefly wondered if it was actually a good idea to talk about it to Dream. But then again, it was now obvious that he wasn’t safe almost anywhere and talking about it might help him not only feel better about it but also get rid of the problem in the future.

Dream nodded at that, showing he agreed to the first condition.

“And then…” He paused. “I would like to move in with you, at least for the time being.” Dream froze, his petting halting for a moment.

“You don’t have to decide now.” Blue continued speaking, avoiding looking at his partner. “I’ll let you make up your mind after I tell you what I have to tell.”

That’s when he began counting his story, telling Dream about his childhood and how the man called his brother had made his life completely hell as the latter rubbed comforting patterns on his hand, on his arm, on his leg and pretty much anywhere he could reach while at the same time squeezing his hand in support. Those little touches definitely helped him feel more comfortable telling his story and confirmed that he was, in fact, down bad for the man since any time he changed his rubbing spot, he would blush, interrupting what he was saying with a little stutter.

If Dream had noticed, he didn’t show it. He has simply been patiently waiting for the other to finish his story, visibly holding back a string of curses at several points in the story.

Then he debuted the part of the universe collapsing, and how he pushed his brother off the cliff.

“I was convinced that I killed him.” He confessed, snuggling even closer to Dream. “I saw him disappear into the void and for me, that was the end of it all. I didn’t feel any regret when I did it whether it be during or after the act.”

One would think Dream would have said something about that confession but he believed in justified murder and that one ticked all the boxes for him, if he were the one who caught him, he would have been executed anyway. Parasites like him had no place to keep in that multiverse.

“But then…” Blue swallowed, already feeling the tears gathering in his eyes. He felt one of Dream’s golden wings wrap itself around his waist, tickling his legs and he let out a sigh. It was so soft.

“But then,” He retried with a shaky voice. “I found him waiting for me at my house. As to what happened next… well I think you can guess.”

The second those words left his mouth, he broke into sobs again. As an answer, the blond man hugged him tightly, peppering his face with kisses.

“It was very brave of you to talk about it with me, thank you for that.” Blue let out a hiccup, burying his face into his shoulder. “As for him, I’ll do my best so he never hurts you again.” His eyes narrowed, the light inside of them fizzling out for a brief moment.

“But for now, let’s go to sleep. How does that sound?” With that, they both fell asleep, cuddling so much they looked like a mess of limbs from an outside perspective.

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