#can you tell i like to write how i feel?

[augustisonline]

Too sad to dance - Lucifer Morning star x reader (angst+fluff)

First fic on here!!! I'm a little bit nervous about getting back into writing but, hopefully this is good 😭 this is like, very descriptive and plot heavy so if that's not your thing I'm sorry, but to those who do like that, please enjoy! This is long as fuck.

Summary: Reader struggles with depression and finds themselves at a bar trying to drink their thoughts away. Lucifer goes looking for them and tries to comfort them. (Great summary august)

Warnings: tw for harassment, alcohol, swearing, reader struggles with depression, slight angst, no sexual content but a few sexual comments, implications of suicide, could this be classed as hurt/comfort? Lucifer, gn reader, pre established relationship, minimal use of y/n, fluff. Not proof read.

🎀

Depression. Some people see it as an exaggeration of sadness, some people use it as a joke or some truly struggle with the mental hell that it can be. Today was one of those days. You had found yourself stuck in bed all day, still in your clothes from yesterday. You hadn't moved at all as you were in and out of sleep, trying to shut your mind up so you wouldn't have to think.

Nonetheless, it didn't work. Each time you woke up, it all came flooding back. The existential dread, the numbness and emptiness that your mind was feeling. Depression was your hell whilst living and in the afterlife. You couldn't escape it, even the one thing that you thought would finally free you of this hell, didn't actually end the suffering you had been going through.

So that's how you found yourself wound up at one of the more run down bars in hell, you just wanted to find somewhere where you could forget it all, even if that place was at the bottom of a bottle. You were sat at the bar, the stickiness of the wood beneath your arms really tied together the overall ickiness that this place was making you feel. Even the stool you were sat on felt disgusting.

The bartender made his way over to you, staring at you expectantly as he waited for you to order. "Just give me a glass of the strongest shit you've got." You spoke, your voice monotone as you slid a few bills you pulled from your pocket across the bar, not bothering to count them. A few minutes later the bartender placed the glass in front of you, his scrunched face staring down at you as you chugged the contents of the drink before he turned away to serve someone else.

You placed the glass down on the counter, absentmindedly staring at it, the ice was beginning to melt and although it wasn't very interesting, it kept your mind occupied. As you were deep in thought, your mind wondered to Lucifer. You were supposed to call him this morning. Shit. And you had walked out of the hotel without saying a word, what if you had worried him? You searched your pockets for your phone, only to find out you had forgotten it, a tired sigh escaped your lips as you placed your head in your hands, tears threatening to spill.

You couldn't keep putting him through this, shutting him and everyone else out when you were having a tough time. You felt awful. Lucifer had his own battle with depression and the pressure of being King. He didn't need to be running after you every so often when you disappeared in an attempt to feel better. A few silent tears had fallen from your eyes, you felt like the worst partner in all of Hell.

Caught up in your tears, you didn't notice the man who had sat next to you. Only the sound of him ordering a drink snapped you out of your trance. He looked towards you and smiled before speaking, "Rough day?". You laughed a bit, "When isn't it?" Lifting your head up and straightening your posture as you spoke to the man. He laughed at your words, sipping on his drink as he gave you a smirk.

"I don't think I've ever seen you before. You new around here?" He questioned, setting his drink down, still looking at you as he waited for you to reply. "No, I don't come here often, but I've been around for a few years." You replied, turning to the bartender and signalling for another drink, sliding him the cash as he poured it. The man hummed, staying silent for a moment as he took another swig of what appeared to be whiskey. "I recognise you, what's your name?" He enquired, and you looked at him rather suspiciously. You were surprised it took him this long to recognise you. A lot of guys wouldn't take this long to realise you were Lucifer's partner.

Dating the king of hell was amazing, but it did come with a lot of publicity. Even though Lucifer tried to stay out of the public eye, it did often result in your private dates being crashed by at least one nosey reporter. So, to say you weren't the talk of Hell for a while would be a lie.

"Y/n, but I'm sure you've not seen me before" You dismissed, not feeling up to discussing your relationship with the king to other sinners who would only be friendly to you knowing Lucifer was loaded. The man gasped, his smirk returning to his face as he realised, "Holy shit, you're Lucifers bitch! That's how I knew your face. Damn what you doin' here? He not satisfying ya?". A sigh escaped your lips. Of course the first question would be about his performance in bed. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. What was it again?" You asked, your tone turning cold as you began to feel disinterested in the man sat beside you.

"Jackson." He smiled before continuing. "I throw some bomb parties. You should come to one sometime." You internally groaned. Honestly, nothing sounded worse. Being in a room full of frat boys who are stuck like this for eternity? No thanks. "I'll pass on that, I gotta go, sorry." You dismissed, quickly getting up from your stool, holding onto the bar due to your slight drunken state. As you walked towards the exit, Jackson calls on you, quickly walking up to you when you exit the bar and enter the street outside.

"Could I at least get your number? Or walk you home, c'mon, I bet I could make you feel so much better than the short stuff you're banging." He smirked, snickering at his own words, and it internally made you cringe. "Again, I'll pass." You responded, walking past him as you began to walk home, either to the hotel or to Lucifer's. You weren't sure, but you were going somewhere. He grabbed your wrist, and you turned to look at him with annoyance in your eyes. "Look, you seem nice, but I have a boyfriend, I'm really not interested and I'd love to go home so, if you could get your hands off me, I'd appreciate that." You snapped, which caused Jacksons demeanour to change.

"Hey, I was being nice, no need to get pissy! Just, why don't you come with me?" He spoke, almost ordering you to go with him. His grip on your wrist got tighter, and you were sure it would bruise. "I said I'm not interested, now will you -" You spoke before being cut off by a familiar voice, which made you want to disappear then and there. "Excuse me, but they said they aren't interested, so please, leave them alone and go back to whatever hole you may have crawled out of." Lucifer's familiar voice spoke, talking to Jackson with a condescending tone to it.

Jackson's hand freed your wrist, and within seconds, you were watching him run down the street and out of sight. Lucifer turned to you, worry and panic in his gaze and voice. "Are you okay? I've been trying to find you for hours, I was worried, you aren't hurt, are you?" His hands came up to your face, like he was inspecting you for any sign of injury. "I'm fine." You spoke, your tone coming off harsher than you intended. "Sweetheart, you don't sound fine." Lucifer replied softly, the tiny height difference between you making him tilt his head up to meet your eyes.

"Lucifer, I'm fine, I promise. I can handle myself." You snapped, moving your gaze to the pavement you were stood on. "That's not the part I'm worried about, I know you can handle yourself, but I know what these people are like, they're awful, I just worry that they'll take advantage of you when you're vulnerable." His tone was still soft and full of worry, contrasting your harsh tone. Lucifer sighed when you stayed silent, reading you're body language and expression to understand how you felt.

"Look, I get that you might not have wanted me to come here, but honey, I worry about you so much and I care about you, i couldn't sit around knowing you were out of reach somewhere in this shit hole whilst having a breakdown." Lucifer added, continuing to look at your face even though you were still focused on the pavement, your eyes glassy as tears welled up in them. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't keep doing this, I-I thought I was getting better." You mumbled as you began to cry. You didn't even care that you were standing in a street anymore. You just wanted to go home.

Lucifer pulled you into his arms, a hand resting on the back of your head as you broke down, crying onto his shoulder. It took a moment before you had stopped, "Can we go home, please?" You croaked out, sniffling as you pulled your head away to look at Lucifer. "Of course." Lucifer smiled, and within seconds, Lucifer had teleported you both back to his Palace. You were now stood in his bedroom, the gold accents bringing out the main theme of red throughout the room.

"Would you like to talk about what's going on?" Lucifer softly asked, his hands resting on your shoulders. "There's nothing that you don't know to talk about, I just woke up and I wanted to disappear. I'm sorry I made you worry. I thought I was getting better..I just, don't want to keep making you this worried about me." You spoke, voice cracking as you began to tear up again. Lucifers hands cupping your face made you look at him, and he looked at you with a loving gaze that made you feel everything you felt today begin to disappear.

"I know, sweetheart, but please don't apologise for that. You've done nothing wrong, and you've not upset me. Sure, you had me pretty worried, but that's because I care, and I couldn't bear to lose you. You don't realise this, but you have truly, and single-handedly, brought a happiness back into my life that I didn't think I'd ever see again." He paused, giving you a chance to take in his words as he wiped a tear that had fallen onto your cheek.

"What I'm trying to say is you are the most beautiful being I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon in my immortal life, and I believe that you don't deserve to be down here, you're too sweet and kind and loving for your own good! You make so many people, including myself, smile every day, and I just want to see you smile like that for a change." Lucifer finished, keeping his eyes locked onto yours. You stared at him in awe, eyes widening as you listened to his words, such loving and sweet words that no one had ever spoken to you before.

Feeling lost for words would be an understatement. You were completely taken aback, and for a moment, as you looked into your lovers eyes, it all went quiet. The loving words he spoke were the only things running through your mind, and for the first time in a while, including your time alive and in hell, everything went quiet. "I love you." Those three words were the only words you could put together in response to his, and it was the first time you had said those words in a while. It was Lucifer's turn to be taken aback, as he had already told you he loved you. He was being patient with you and giving you the time you needed to return those words to him. There was no pressure or judgement with him.

"I love you too, my darling, more than I can put into words." Lucifer softly spoke, leaning up to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. You stayed like this for a moment, Lucifer held you close to him, he didn't want to lose you like that again. It was quiet for a moment before the sound of your favourite slow song had begun to play, and Lucifer gently swayed you to the gentle beat. One day you'd figure out how he could do that.

"Dance with me, please," He invited, his tone soft as he held you close. "I'm too sad to dance, Luci." You replied with a small laugh, yet you placed your arms over his shoulders, silently accepting his offer.

"No one is too sad to dance, sweetheart."

🎀

HOLY SHIT THAT TOOK ME A WHILE 😭

anyways, I hope its okay! I kinda get carried away with plot but I'm low-key debating making a part two (no I'm not)

Anyways this was NOT proof read and its 1:36am so, please leave me some constructive criticism.

Thanks bts for inspiring this whole thing 🫶

Word count:??????

Edit: it's been proof read never let me write past 1 am again. Also please say someone got the Jackson Wang joke cuz I'm giggling over my own mind honestly you wouldn't think I'm legally an adult.

#hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #can you tell i like to write how i feel? #thanks bts for being the soundtrack to this

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

#spilled ink #writeblr #personal #please don't ask me to talk on my experience on the spectrum lol. i hate how ppl talk to me about it #i really try not to write so specifically about it #bc inevitably someone talks to me like im a child #i think this is the first time i've ever openly identified with it but i've been hinting for years #i might delete this. feels big. #the thing is that being on the spectrum actually IS a spectrum #and if u say ur autistic #inevitably someone makes an assumption about ur needs/symptoms #please do not treat me differently than u usually would. like.... we can tell when you do #and like i mention. i do appreciate the effort. i do truly appreciate the effort. #but it still feels like... #when i was blind. sometimes people kind of did the same-ish thing. #they'd find out i was blind and start talking really loudly? #and while i KNOW they're just trying to help. it would be like. i'd be trying to find #the right way into a building (sometimes only 1 door is unlocked and i couldn't see the signs posted about where to go) #and ppl would be like ''OH UR BLIND? YES SO THIS IS A DOOR. IT OPENS INTO THE BUILDING. IT IS LOCKED NOW." #''A DOOR CAN BE FOUND IN MANY LOCATIONS.'' #and it feels like. when i admit to being autistic #someone comes screeching into my life being like THIS IS A DOOR.

[mister-writes]

Hey writeblr I have a question!

So I often see posts in the same vein as this one here:

Things along the lines of "oh my characters are always changing the story, they're the ones that are really in charge."

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #..... i feel like you can tell by the fact that i'm asking this question #that this is something i find really funny but it's not something i... relate to? #so i'm just really curious how common of an experience this is #i'm excited to see! #polls #writeblr poll #writing

[chromaherder]

Byler week day 4: Summer Love During which Mike vows to never do sports again after swallowing a good handful of salt water.

#byler #byler fanart #bylerweek2023 #i've been listening to a lot of Beach Boys lately so yeah #also I recently learned how to surf and let me tell you it's not easy #also been feeling very soft the past few days with all the amazing art and writing being posted #so you can have a little smooch as a treat #if you realize now mike has freckles like he rightfully should is bc 2 days later i realized i uploaded the wrong image lmao #fanart

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: dismemberment / ]

I think a lot about how Leo’s rescue could have easily ended in him losing a leg as the portal snaps shut on the Krang still clutching the limb, or, alternatively, only having Leo’s right arm make it out, still held dearly in his brother’s hand as the rest of Leo is left behind. (The latter hits even harder, as it directly parallels his future self in the worst of ways.)

I think a lot about how so many things could have gone wrong during the course of the movie with even a little bit of a change, but it really is harrowing how much of a coin-flip the entirety of the Prison Dimension rescue was.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt headcanons #rise leo #dismemberment / #if literally any part of the prison dimension rescue was different it would have ended Very Badly #mikey came in clutch for doing the impossible in the first place #raph grabbing leo and not once letting go was vital #and donnie directly hitting the krang was essential #hell leo having the ability to reach out at all in the state he was in was a miracle #listen I think about the prison dimension a lot if you couldn’t tell #for the next tags: #strangulation mention / #physical trauma induced mutism / #potential death mention / #potential sibling death mention / #barely it mainly focuses on if he lives but / #I also think about how Leo’s trachea could have easilyyy given out as Raph (krangified) was choking him #can you imagine the last words raph hearing from his little brother being I’m sorry? #he’d likely live as the hamato bros are built different but imagine if he straight up can’t talk again after #the bros having no idea what Leo’s plan is but they suddenly feel him disappear with the portal #or also #imagine all he gets out in his hoarse voice is to beg Casey to close the portal before his family HEARS the sudden silence like a knife #even if he gets saved his voice may be wrecked or even gone for good #what am I writing wait- #also for my point on leo losing his arm paralleling his future self #imagine fate being a thing in this world but a VERY situational thing #imagine it makes it so that leo has to lose a limb #but not just that - it also ties his presence directly with the Krang’s - so if the Krang’s somewhere else…so is he

[dragonsareverycool]

A Brothers Reunion

The small summoning circle lit up, casting a soft green glow, as two eyes watched it with weary hope.

——————————————————

Two demons argued violently about a soul, and Danny sighed from his spot on the throne that fully claimed him a month ago. While he still found it hilarious how thoroughly this guy managed to swindle so many of the high ranking demons, it had started to cross into annoying territory. Danny was seriously considering making a whole office dedicated specifically to hold all the paperwork one ‘John Constantine’ was seemingly generating with his very presence. Suddenly, Danny felt a soft tug on his core, much gentler then the summoning rituals of all those crazy cultists that keep popping out of nowhere used. More like the circles he gave to Sam Tucker or Jazz. But he could feel the summoner’s emotions, and the poor guy on the other end felt like he was about to cry.

Danny mentally went through everyone he’s given his personal line to. Then, he shot up and called for Fright Knight to send the demons away while Danny quickly allowed himself to be pulled through the summoning circle to where his brother waited anxiously.

——————————————————

The circle flared, and a large eldrich like figure quickly crawled through. Then, a very familiar voice muttered

“Man I wish these things weren’t so dramatic. I already scared the shit out of the justice league because of it” as the being’s form shifted to the more familiar form he took when seeing Damian for the first time in a decade. His white hair looked a little longer now, and his eyes a less toxic green.

“Danyal” Damian said stiffly. Danny looked up, making eye contact with Damian before responding

“Damian” in response Damian lunged, pressing a blade to Danny’s neck before asking a question only Danny could answer.

“What’s the last story you told me?” Danny simply smiled nostalgically,

“There’s the Damian I know. I told you about Canis Minor 16 days before I died the first time.” Damian heasitated before putting away his weapon and paused before he quickly started to hug Danny, who returned the hug.

“… first time?” Damian asked, still in Danny’s arms.

“Mother didn’t tell you what happened to me after, did she?” Danny asked into his twins hair. Damian didn’t even bother to say anything and just turned his head to look at Danny balefully, before Danny sighed and said

“Of course she didn’t. I was dunked into the Lazarus pits, before mother dropped me off in the middle of nowhere America, where she forbade me from ever talking about my old life or ever attempting to contact you.” Damian paused to process this, before saying

“And the second time?” Danny sighed at that, his face set into a grimace. Damian started to move, bringing Danyal over to his bed, where Danny realized Damian had summoned Danny in his room. Damian sat them both onto his bed, and curled further into Danny’s arms, while gesturing to continue.

“I was adopted by a couple who claimed to be ‘ectobiologists’ who already had an older daughter named Jazz. She’s my sister.” Damian nodded solemnly at that, mentally adding ‘Jazz’ to his list of siblings. Danny pulled out his brick of a phone and started showing Damian pictures of his adoptive parents, his sister and everything else as he spoke about it. “They’d been working on a project in their lab since before they adopted me, longer then they’re had Jazz even. When I was fourteen, they finally tried to turn it on. It failed. It was a portal to what they called ‘The Ghost Zone’, but that realm is much more. The Infinite Realms are the glue that holds all universes together, and its a kind of afterlife. They didn’t know half of that, only that some souls of humans who died stay there, and even then, they thought that these ghosts were only a husk of their former selves, and couldn’t feel pain.” Damian started to connect the dots at that and asked

“You’re one of these ghosts?” It was almost a statement, but Damian wasn’t going to make many assumptions. Danny nodded before continuing

“I had two friends who convinced me to show them the failed portal. I walked inside of the portal we assumed was completely defunct, and I tripped over one of the many wires on the floor. When I tried to stabilize myself, I hit the on button.” Damian’s eyes widened, and he froze while Danny paused. After a moment, Danny continued, saying “My adoptive parents had connected the portal to the towns power grid, and the portal opened up on top of me. Electricity and ectoplasm, what ghosts and the Infinite Realms are made of, clashed inside my body, killing me and reviving me repeatedly until the portal finally spit me back out. I only half died that day.” Danny put his phone away and focused on playing with Damian’s hair. Damian reveled in his brothers affectionate touch like when they were small.

“Half?” Damian asks after a minute or two.

“Half. I technically have several ghost forms, and I have a human form” Damian looked up from Danyal’s arms, his eyes asking the obvious question he was a little afraid to ask, though he’d never admit it. Danny smiled at the unasked question, and rings of light formed around him, before dissipating and revealing a very much alive eighteen year old Danyal Nightingale. He grabbed one of Damian’s hands and pressed it against his neck, allowing Damian to revel in feeling his former dead brother’s pulse. Damian tested Danny’s wrist, and put his ear against Danny’s now warm chest.

Damian will deny the appearance of tears to his death, but Danny didn’t say anything, he just held Damian closer. After a while Danyal started to talk about the stars. Filling the silence with quiet but passionate rambling about stars and space. It was familiar. It was safe and warm and then Richard ruined the moment by slamming open Damian’s door yelling about a ‘Family Game Night’ and got a knife for his troubles. Of course he dodged with practiced ease, but then he realized Damian wasn’t alone in his room. Time seemed to freeze at the stand off. Dick had frozen, as the joy on his face seemed to leach away at the realization that there was an intruder.

#sorry for the cliffhanger #I have no idea what else to write #You can tell who’s pov is being focused on by how people are referred to #didn’t even realize I was doing it till like half way through #dpxdc #demon twins au #demon twins #be fed foul creatures #seems y’all like what awful concoctions I make so here #feel free to use as inspo #I would like credit if only so I can tell and be so happy that my work has inspired more #I am chronically online so I’ll probably see it #unless it’s on twi- I mean X #it’s a disease and I don’t have my shots #also yes Dick is indeed jealous of this rando being able to hold Damian and give him affection without the threat of bodily harm lmao

[flowercrowngods]

yearning hours (b-side) — in which being in love can feel like the greatest tragedy of all until you learn that you’re not alone (or: bravery, despite everything)

🤍 also on ao3

Steve comes to the quarry when he needs to think. He comes to the quarry when he needs to not think. When he needs to feel this rush of adrenaline that feels so much like monsters are real and the world has turned upside down. Except he isn’t going to die here, sitting on the cold ground, legs dangling over the abyss.

He’s not going to die, but life stops for a moment all the same. 

And Steve relearns how to breathe. How to think. How to not think. While the darkness below him swallows it all. The pale light of the moon is not enough to reach the ground hundreds of feet below, or to chase away the complete and total darkness that meets his eyes when he looks down there. 

It’s all-encompassing, this darkness, the vastness of it; Steve sometimes feels like he becomes part of it. Just for an hour or two. Just for the night. 

The cold air that hits his face makes him shiver for a second, and reminds him that he used to think the darkness at the bottom of the quarry had a life of its own. Hell, maybe it does. With what they’ve seen, what they’ve fought, who’s to say there’s nothing down there? Maybe that’s what draws him here so often. 

Does the living darkness know his secrets like the darkness in his room does? Does it listen to him, does it care? They’re stupid questions, Steve knows. But they carry a hopefulness he wants to preserve. Something that survived the Upside Down, that survives the nightmares and the flashbacks and the post-traumatic stress, as Hopper and Owens call it. 

There’s something primal about sitting on the edge of such vastness, so much so that it makes his heart beat faster, his breath come shallower, like he is just a second away from falling. Like he has to savour this; this second, this moment, this life, because beyond it, around it, below it, there is only darkness. 

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and lets it all out until his lungs ache. The silence is absolute. He feels like the only person on the planet — but not in the bad, painful way that’s been hiding in the back of his mind for as long as he can remember. 

If he only breathes like this for a while longer, lets the feeling settle, lets the thoughts come and bring emotions with them, he knows that soon the tears will fall.

Tears, because he shouldn’t have to sit at the edge of the quarry in the dark of night just to be able to feel. Tears, because he forgot how to be a boy, how to be a person, about three years ago. Almost to the day. Tears, because they all did; but he’s Steve. He can’t let them see. Wouldn’t know how even if he wanted to. 

And tears, tonight, because just hours earlier, Eddie fell asleep while Steve made dinner. His arms were curled around the pillow Steve had leaned against all afternoon, and Steve just stood there in the doorway to Eddie’s room, the smell of fresh pasta mixing with that of leather, paperback books, tobacco and laundry detergent that is so purely and wonderfully Eddie that Steve just wants to catch it in a mason jar and open it whenever he needs a dose. 

Eddie had fallen asleep, and all Steve could do was look at him. Smile on his lips, ache in his heart that only grew in ferocity until all he could do was leave. Because friends don’t watch their friends sleep. Not like this. Not with their hands twitching by their sides, curled into fists to stop them from reaching out and trailing over soft, warm skin. Friends don’t… They don’t. 

So Steve left, pasta untouched. Heart unravelled. Words unspoken. 

He left and sped off until he reached the quarry, a safe place to piece himself back together again — but he doesn’t have the heart to leave out Eddie. So every time he comes here and puts the pieces of himself back together, he puts Eddie in the centre. He always does. It’s what keeps getting him in this mess. 

But it’s still the closest he’ll get to bravery after the Upside Down; admitting, if only to himself, that he likes a boy. Allowing himself to cry about it. To breathe in and breathe out and have the truth unchanged, unchallenged, undoubted.

He’s still breathing when the all-encompassing silence is interrupted, joined by the unmistakeable sound of tires on gravel. Seconds later, headlights illuminate the night, his arms, the edge of the quarry, but still not reaching beyond that. The car comes to a stop but Steve still doesn’t move, doesn’t turn around, just hopes that whoever it is will just leave him alone. 

Lights go out, the engine is killed, followed by the sound of a car door opening and being closed far too gently. 

Steve isn’t too surprised when steps approach him slowly, nor when they come to a stop beside him, chasing away some of the cold that’s been resting over him like a blanket.

Instinctively, he knows it’s Eddie. He just doesn’t know why. 

“How’d you know I’m here?” he asks into the void, still unmoving. 

“Just knew,” comes the reply, and it sounds so soft, so gentle, so understanding that Steve fears he might fall apart and have to rebuild himself once more. Twice in one night. Wouldn’t be the first time. Won’t be the last. “Why’d you leave?” 

Because otherwise I’d have crossed the distance and fallen to my knees, brushed a kiss to your forehead and told you dinner was ready. Because otherwise I’d have slid down the doorframe and watched over you, watched you, and the firework of a person that you are even in your sleep. I’d have fallen in love and I’d have fallen, fallen, fallen. So I needed to go where falling is not an option. 

Instead of saying any of that, Steve only shrugs. “Just did.” 

It’s lame and unfair, he knows, but talking to the darkness is so much easier when there’s not an audience, and Eddie just… he can’t know. Any of that. 

“Can I join you?” Eddie asks then, and Steve can hear it in his voice that he would leave if Steve said no. 

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t; just nods and scoots to the side a bit even though there’s enough room for Eddie to sit just anywhere. 

But he doesn’t sit just anywhere, no. He sits down rather clumsily — for which Steve can’t blame him, it is a little scary in the dark, and one wrong move could be your very last — and ends up with his arm and shoulder pressed to Steve‘s, their legs so close he can feel Eddie‘s warmth through the denim.

It’s too much. It’s not enough. It’s dangerous, so close to falling, and Steve scoots to the side, breaking contact. Breathing carefully.

Eddie‘s eyes are on him, he can feel it. He doesn’t react. It hurts, his entire body aches with how close he wants to be. But it’s too much, even for himself to bear. Putting all that on Eddie would be enough to take them both down to the bottom of the quarry, and lower still.

So he swallows. All the words he cannot say, all the thoughts that lump together and clog his throat.

“Are you okay, Stevie?” Eddie asks, and Steve just shrugs again.

“Sure.”

“Right,” Eddie whispers, then sighs. It’s not a heavy sigh or a judgmental one, but it makes Steve flinch all the same.

Too much. Too fucking much even unknown.

Silence falls over them, the quarry working its magic — or its curse — even on Eddie Munson. Steve wonders if it suffocates or liberates him, but he doesn’t dare to ask. It would take too much explaining for the question to make sense, too much revealing himself, too much of… Just too much.

He wants to ask. To say something. To scoot back over again, closer to Eddie, and lay his head on his shoulder, bask in his warmth and withstand the magic, the curse, the darkness.

Withstand it, because that’s what Eddie does. He is brave, despite everything.

And Steve is just the boy who sits with darkness at night because he doesn’t know how to be brave anymore, not when there’s no question of life or death. He forgot all about everyday-bravery.

But Eddie didn’t. He’s still there, still smiling and laughing and teasing his way through life and into Steve’s heart and soul.

And Steve doesn’t know what to do with it. Doesn’t know what he can do with it. Doesn’t know how to ask.

It’s no surprise, then, that it’s Eddie who does.

“What are we doing, Steve?” He sounds a bit resigned about it, and it makes Steve hide away in himself even more, focusing on the darkness beneath him rather than the light beside him — they both leave him blinded at equal measure, but one of them doesn’t ask him questions to which he doesn’t know the answer.

“What do you mean?” he asks after a while, his voice a little off. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling. Apprehension, maybe. Caught. Uncovered. Exposed.

Beside him, Eddie sighs again, just a little bit, but Steve has always hated that he keeps making people sigh. Makes him feel so fucking small, so incredibly useless.

He raises one leg from the abyss to rest his chin on his knee, because suddenly he feels so heavy that he needs the physical reminder that he’s not about to fall. One foot on the ground. Steady, secure, a great illusion for now.

“Sorry,” he whispers at last, because Eddie hasn’t said anything, has only sighed and created a silence that’s so loud it can probably be heard at the bottom of the quarry, and Steve feels like the silence is his fault this time.

“What for?”

“Dunno,” he confesses, lies, concedes as his house of cards begins to crumble for some reason. The heaviness wanders from his throat down to his heart and settles there, making a home for itself, casting out all the lightness that usually comes when he’s around Eddie.

But it seems he’s reached his breaking point. It seems he can only pretend to be okay for so long, pretend not to yearn and ache and long for intimacy and tenderness. It seems he can only put himself together again, rebuilding himself around Eddie at his centre, until it would break apart for good. Burst out of his heart, dismantle him piece by broken piece until all that’s left is a broken boy, yearning.

And so he can’t stop the tears even if he wanted to. They’re kind in their silence, streaming down his face without demand for sobs or sniffles. Just breaking free, a simple displacement reaction. Following the physics of emotions.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers, reaching out to wrap an arm around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him into his side. There’s that warmth, that touch, that gentleness he’s been craving — and there’s that sob he’s been suppressing. “Hey, Stevie, it’s okay. You’re okay. You can talk to me, you know that, right?”

He shakes his head into the warmth of Eddie’s neck, wiping dejectedly at his tears.

“No?”

“No,” he whines, sighs, groans, annoyed with himself.

“Don’t want to? Or can’t?”

Both. Neither. All at once.

He shrugs again, still leaning against Eddie.

Eddie, who turns his head slightly and brushes his lips over Steve’s hair in what can only be described as a kiss. Except, it can’t. It couldn’t. It isn’t.

Steve begins to shiver against him — maybe he’s cold, maybe he’s overwhelmed, maybe he’s both and neither and everything all at once.

“I’ve got you, Stevie.”

And then Eddie kisses his head again, and he stills.

“You can’t kiss me, Eddie,” he says, voice still thick, but steadier this time. No more sobbing, no more whining. Just a broken boy, yearning. Always, always that.

Eddie freezes where he’s holding Steve, only his arm still moves in soothing, rubbing motions — warming him, holding him, saving him. Always, always that.

“Sorry,” Eddie says this time. Except it’s wrong. It’s so wrong, and Steve leans back to look at him. It’s impossible to make out his expression in the darkness, but he tries nonetheless.

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispers. “Just…” He gestures vaguely, not quite sure what the just entails. Just mean it. Just do it right. Just don’t do it out of pity. Just leave me alone until I’m over you even though we both know I never really will be.

“Just?”

Steve shrugs. Whispers, “I don’t know.”

“Don’t hide, Stevie.” Be brave, Stevie. Be brave like me.

God, how he wishes. How he longs. How he aches.

“You don’t have to hide, not from me.”

Steve huffs and says, before he can stop himself, “Especially from you.”

Eddie pauses and Steve freaks out a little bit, even before Eddie asks, “Why?” He sounds wounded. Small. He shouldn’t sound like that. Never.

“Because you’re gonna see otherwise.”

“See what?”

That I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Besotted. Enamoured. All the big words you like to make fun of. All of them and more.

“Me.”

There’s a beat where nothing happens. Maybe time stops, maybe reality resets itself, settling in more comfortably in anticipation of vulnerability’s fallout.

And then Eddie takes his hands, reaching for them in the darkness and finding them with ease. Like he’s done it many times before. Because he has. Just never like this.

“Steve,” he begins, and Steve wants to run again. To hide, to confess to another void, and make Eddie forget this conversation ever happened. “I think I already do.”

What? No. No, you can’t.

When Steve doesn’t respond, Eddie continues, seemingly gathering himself and his thoughts as he goes. Always so much stronger, so much braver than Steve.

“I already do see you. The way you smile at me, light up the whole room with it. The way you hug me, always a little too long, but never long enough if you ask me. I see you blushing, I see you going out of your way for me, and… And I think, if you knew how to look, you’d see the same in me. Because, uh. Because I like seeing you. And I like… I like you. Not in a friends kinda way. In a way where I wanna sit beside you all night and talk about deep shit, but I wanna run my fingers through your hair when we do. I wanna play with your fingers when we do. I wanna kiss you when we do, because there’s deep, heavy, traumatic shit everywhere, but there’s also you. And I don’t want one without the other. I want you. In that exact way that I see you looking at me, wanting me, too.”

Eddie swallows, a little breathless beside him like Steve’s not choking on emotion himself.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Eddie whispers then, pressing and desperate and knowing. “Tell me you don’t like me in a way you think you shouldn’t. Tell me I don’t see you.”

He shakes his head, slowly, frantically. “I can’t.”

“Because it’s true?”

Steve’s nodding now, just as frantic, leaving him disoriented and falling, only anchored to Eddie who’s still holding his hands.

“Yeah,” Steve gasps, rasps, whispers. “It… I’m. I don’t.” It’s he who swallows heavily now, needing a second or an eternity to process Eddie’s words. “You really mean that?”

Eddie nods. He can feel it, somehow.

“I don’t know what has you so scared,” Eddie begins. “Except the obvious, of course, but I feel like that’s only a small chunk of it. But you gotta believe me when I say that I mean it. I like you. So much it makes me stupid sometimes.”

Steve huffs, but it’s a smile this time. A real one. Tinged with sadness and heaviness and disbelief still, but a real one nonetheless.

“I wanna tell you. All of that. Everything, in my own words. And I will, but… Eddie, I’m—“ Steve starts with a quivering voice but shuts himself up before he can ruin this.

I’m broken. I’m not sure if I can let you. I’m just Steve. I’m bullshit. I’m…

“I’m tired.”

It has a double meaning, here at the quarry — but he doesn’t mean it like that. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He won’t.

“Can you just hold me?” It is perhaps the closest to bravery he’s going to get. Tonight, or always. But it’s enough. It can be enough.

Eddie hums and Steve can hear the smile, can feel how some of the heaviness inside him dissipates with it.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Steve shivers again as he shifts, lying back so it’s only his legs, bent at the knee, that dangle over the abyss now. Eddie joins him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and rearranging them so Steve rests half on top of him. It can’t be comfortable, but Steve doesn’t mention it.

They lie there in silence, and Steve allows himself to let go of the tension in his bones as he feels Eddie’s hands travelling across his back in a tender caress. He doesn’t quite believe it’s real, doesn’t believe he’ll get to keep it beyond this moment, and can’t quite savour it the way he wants to because surely he will lose this, too. Surely Eddie will realise and come to his senses and—

“Do you really mean it?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, leaning up slightly to brush his lips over Steve’s temple. “Yeah, Stevie. I really, really mean it.” And then, after a while, “Will you come back home now?”

Back home. Home to Eddie and Wayne. Home, because Eddie cares and wants and bravely, bravely asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says.

Another kiss to his forehead. “And will you stay?”

It is Steve now who leans up, hovering above Eddie to meet his eyes through the dark. “I will. I do.” And then he slowly, carefully captures Eddie’s lips with his own, sealing the promise and receiving one in return.

Kissing Eddie is a lot like falling, he realises. But there are arms wrapped around him, holding him, never wanting to let him go — so maybe it isn’t falling after all. Maybe it’s flying.

At home in his bed, Eddie holds him some more, running fingers through his hair long after Steve has fallen asleep.

They’ll make it work.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #dio words #idk how to describe the mood of this so uh feel free to tell me if you find out #in which being in love can feel like the greatest tragedy of all until you learn that you’re not alone #they need so much therapy your honour #i keep wanting to write this one steddie at the quarry scene but it always gets derailed :/

[tennessoui]

brain will not let me sleep until I say

same age padawans au where they’ve been in a weird wired frenemies thing for ages but now that they’re both mature adults (all of 24/25 years old) they’re more friends than enemies….

And it’s Obi-Wan that Anakin tells when he’s decided he’s going to leave the Order, not anyone else. He has a wife. There was a pregnancy scare a few weeks ago and it made her want their relationship to stop being a secret so they could really have kids. He has to leave the Order. Doesn’t Obi-Wan understand?

Obi-Wan, who has been a little in love with Anakin since they were younglings, does not understand. Not one bit. Instead of wishing him well and helping him pack, he goes to the Council and requests a mission in the Outer Rim….perhaps a month long or more…perhaps undercover? No contact with anyone on Coruscant. And maybe they could assign Anakin Skywalker as his back up? He can help with the undercover aspect.

And at first, Anakin is pissed because he was planning to resign from the Order in the next few days, but Obi-Wan convinces him to go on this mission with him….one last mission as a Jedi. To say goodbye to the Jedi life.

Obviously, Obi-Wan sort of wants to go on one last mission with Anakin because in his dreams, he wants the mission to go so perfectly that Anakin stays with him the Order. But realistically, he mostly wants to go on this mission to say goodbye to Anakin and then let him go, soaking up all his warmth and light, memorizing every casual touch bestowed on him because he knows they’re ticking down to the last handful of seconds together.

But then obviously the mission works TOO well and Anakin falls in love with Obi-Wan but doesn’t admit to it even to himself before they’re on the ship about to head back to Coruscant and Anakin realizes he doesn’t want to leave this planet because he doesn’t want to leave Obi-Wan if it could always be like this so he crashes the ship during take off so they can stay longer because he’s 24 and doesn’t know how to handle the immensity of his love except through destruction

#Kit’s silly lil AUs #obikin #I couldn’t finish the Democratic fic part today writing was so hard :( #I offer this instead <3 #hopefully will get it up tomorrow #but anyway: no physical cheating but probably emotional infidelity as anakin falls in love with obi-wan but doesn’t notice #and a lot of pining but being brave about it obi-wan which could also turn into finding his rebound in the outer rim obiwan #which would then turn into seethingly jealous anakin #+ bonus points is that their cover is theyre newly weds #and obi-wan is like <3 you can touch me mister we have an open marriage <3 #and this poor guy at the bar is being stared down by a vicious anakin and he’s like uh does your husband knkw that ???? #but yeah here for pretty newly knighted obi-wan creating a situation where he gets to feel anakin touch him and kiss him on the cheek #and hold his hand and call him pet names #all the while being convinced that this is all he will ever get so he has to be satisfied with this #that the yearning will stop and he will find comfort in the memory of anakin’s arm around his shoulders once he’s left the order and obiwan #to be with his wife #also obi-wan gets wasted one night and someone asks how they met or when they fell in love #and obi-wan accidentally tells the drunken truth #not the cover story #and it makes anakin go 👀🧐 #but then he gets too drunk and forgets it

[solarpunkani]

Psst, hey.

Hey you.

Come closer.

Listen to what I'm about to say good and well, alright?

#out of queue #ani rambles #anti ai #anti ai art #solarpunk #solarpunk aesthetic #does this have the official backing of the other 2 event hosts? no i just made this meme on a whim #but also if you try submitting AI art and we find out? or worse if I can flat-out TELL its AI? I'm blocking your ass #one of the best artists I've ever had the pleasure of knowing won't touch the Solarpunk community with a 10 foot pole because of all the #goddamn AI art infiltrating this space. constantly. like even when I'm trying to be on the lookout for it I somehow reblog it anyways #even when I block the tags too!!!! this is a PROBLEM #you want more artists taking part in this community spreading the vision visualizing the future? #STOP REBLOGGING AI BULLSHIT AND CHASING THEM AWAY THEN #how are artists supposed to feel accepted and appreciated and loved by this community when every other piece under the tag is some fuckin #midjourney bs made my scrubbing the internet and spitting out a mishmash of other artists' works and ideas? #i have said it before I will say it again #i would rather see a messy pen scribble on the back of a coffee stained napkin with stickfigures than see some smooth smudgy AI BS again #this applies to AI writing too if I catch an INKLING that your short story even STARTED with some bs chatgpt ramblings you're blocked

[viperwhispered]

Too Hard

Woop part 2 of the trip inside Jamil's head. Part 1 here.

The next time Jamil caught sight of you on campus, his first instinct was to turn around on his heel.

What a stupid thought to have because of you.

Besides, that would only make him more conspicuous, not less.

So, when your eyes met his, Jamil gave you a short nod in greeting. He would’ve left it at that and kept on his way, had you not walked up to him.

“Hi Jamil! How’s it going?” you said with that impossibly disarming smile of yours.

Why was it so difficult to look at you like he normally would? You had no right to make him feel so stiff, so unnatural.

On autopilot, Jamil exchanged a few pleasantries with you - those lessons from his parents had been instilled too deep in him for him to falter too badly in a simple exchange such as this. Still, Jamil quickly excused himself by telling you he still had to find Kalim before his next class.

Jamil didn’t miss the way your smile faltered. Had you hoped to get something out of him?

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you two later, then.”

Something about that irked him, though Jamil did not allow himself to dwell on it further.

His heart really had no business still racing as it did when he walked away, unaware of the frown on his face.

Just act normal. That’s all he needed to do.

After all, he had no time for dwelling in silly fancies.

If Jamil had been acutely aware of you before, it only seemed to worsen now that he was making a conscious effort to not act any differently with you. In fact, the harder he tried to keep you out, the more you invaded his thoughts, unsettling him.

The most innocuous words from you looped in his mind, and even the simplest actions caught his eye. For goodness's sake, he’d found himself staring at you while you were queueing up in the cafeteria the other day, not even doing anything other than standing around and looking bored!

For once, Jamil found himself grateful for all his duties. At least they provided him with something else to occupy himself with.

After all, if he was busy enough, it was difficult to think about those bright eyes of yours, your sweet laugh, or the way you bit your lip while thinking.

Still, sometimes it felt like no matter which way he turned, you were there, ready to throw him off-kilter. Not like it was his fault that often the most convenient route to class intersected with your daily routines. Or that your face seemed to jump out from any crowd, catching his attention.

Which certainly did not help his basketball performance. Jamil certainly did not recall you having such an interest in sports before, yet suddenly you were always there, distracting him. What had changed?

Could you possibly-

Jamil scoffed to himself, forcing his thoughts back on track for the nth time that day.

He picked up the tray of food and started taking it to Kalim. After dinner, he’d need to help Kalim with his homework, there were some housewarden tasks that would need dealing with, not to mention the preparations for the next-

Jamil froze in his tracks.

The voice he heard was quiet, but it was unmistakably you.

Really, it should not have come as such a surprise to him. You had become a rather frequent visitor to Scarabia, and Kalim often invited you to stay for meals. In fact, Jamil had started planning the dorm’s meal prep with your tastes and dietary restrictions in mind, just in case.

Jamil rounded the corner with strange exhilaration, his heart fluttering needlessly.

Yet, his mood evaporated when he saw you.

Why did you stop talking and look so guilty as soon as you caught sight of Jamil?

Jamil knew that look you gave to Kalim, had used it himself a thousand times. The one telling Kalim to keep quiet about something.

What could there possibly be that you would be comfortable sharing with Kalim, but not with him? That would give Kalim reason to sit so close to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder?

Jamil's mind raced with possibilities, yet could not settle for any single explanation.

He’d have to ask Kalim about it later.

Jamil gave you a short, polite greeting, his eyes lingering on you in an attempt to read what you were hiding.

“If I’d known you were coming over, I would’ve prepared something for you to eat as well,” Jamil said, already thinking about which parts of the dorm’s dinner to spruce up for you.

“Oh, no need, just figured I’d pop by. I’ll get out of your hair soon enough,” you said, something sheepish about your expression.

As expected, Kalim asked you to stay and dine with them, and with just a bit more persuasion you agreed - though not before telling Jamil that he should join you too and have himself a breather.

And since Kalim agreed with you, Jamil soon found himself sharing a meal with you and Kalim. Yet, even as he sat down with the food, his mind raced.

Had you been getting particularly close to Kalim lately? But surely Jamil would’ve noticed such a thing. Maybe someone from the dorm had been giving you trouble? But if that was the case, then surely you could let Jamil know about it, too. Unless for some reason you did not want to? But if it was something that concerned Kalim, then sooner or later it was bound to concern Jamil, too.

All the while, Kalim was talking to you about this and that, the latest topic being the animals kept on the Asim estate.

“I’ve got some pictures, let me show you!” Kalim said with an excited grin.

Only, a thorough patting of his pockets and a look around confirmed that Kalim’s phone was nowhere to be seen.

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. Where had Kalim left it this time?

Before Jamil even had the chance to say that he would handle it, Kalim sprinted off. Jamil hesitated for a moment, automatically halfway up from his seat, before he decided that leaving a guest unattended would be a worse offense than not helping out his master.

Jamil slumped back down with a sigh, mentally tracing the path Kalim took today, trying to recall the last time he saw Kalim handle his phone.

“Breathe. He’ll manage,” you said. There was the faintest of smiles on your lips, and Jamil could not decide if it was knowing or amused. Perhaps both.

Somehow, despite his frustration, Jamil’s own lips wanted to curl up too.

“Hmm. Maybe he will.”

Sure, Jamil could’ve called Kalim’s phone, to make it easier to find, but it was not that urgent, was it?

Jamil took another bite of his food, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.

How was his mind so empty and so buzzing at the same time?

“You know-”

“So-”

You looked at each other, both just as surprised that the other had spoken up at the same time.

Even your surprised look was so-

“You first,” Jamil said. The way you bit your lip... Jamil had to raise a cup to his lips, slowly sipping his drink.

“Just… Feels like it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you be still, you know. Or exchanged more than two words with you,” you said. You were attempting a light, joking tone, yet it was quite clear there was more to it.

“You say that like it would be unusual for me to be busy.”

He was not prepared for the way your soft sigh tugged at his heartstrings.

“No. It is not.”

You were both quiet after, poking at your meals. Normally, Jamil would’ve cherished such a moment of peace, yet this particular silence between you two was decidedly awkward.

Where was your usual chatter? Why weren’t you looking at him like you usually did?

“If you’re worried about me, don’t. I’m fine,” Jamil said, some softness creeping into his tone despite his best intentions.

“That's what Kalim said too,” you said. Yet the way you looked at Jamil made it clear you were still skeptical.

Wait.

Had you clammed up earlier because it had been Jamil you had been talking about with Kalim? That Kalim had comforted you about?

The thought twisted his stomach into knots.

Hasdhfsdf the way I fought with that last scene I swear. I don't even want to know how many versions I went through, trying to figure out how to say what I wanted without rubbing it into your face or making it too veiled. The joys of trying to convey things through a limited pov. Hopefully it came out reasonably balanced in the end. Rip to all those sentences that were lovely on their own but didn’t work for the whole. Hopefully I can rehome y’all one day. I do have thoughts for part 3 and part x (might be some chapters between those two as well, who knows at this point), so maybe we'll see those at some point, too. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for future works, let me know! (Just be aware that sometimes I do also write nsfw, though you can certainly ask to be tagged only for particular kinds of works.)

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil viper x reader #ner writes #jamil definitely knows how to deal with his feels #also writing this is making me wonder how aware jamil is of his inner versus outer life #like he’s very aware of how he comes across because that’s what he’s been told to watch out for #but how well has he truly learned to understand himself and his own feelings wants etc? #(I mean as you can tell I’m assuming not very well) #originally this went to more of a “jamil hears just the wrong part of the conversation” route but #a) I kinda hate that trope especially when it’s dragged on beyond belief and #b) Kalim maybe doesn’t want to spill anyone’s secrets but he really is such an open book especially with Jamil so #also it’s not like jamil needs the extra help to catastrophize he already does that well enough on his own 🙃 #tho then I went a little too far in the other direction and had to pull back #but let's just hope I didn't edit this to death by now #also also: since I seem to have a bit of a naming theme going on for this series #if I were to be the sort to go for the angst route what part would definitely be titled Too Late or something along those lines #also x3 but loved folks commenting on that part about reader being inoffensive in the first part #I certainly had fun writing that line #(and in general extra love to everyone who leaves comments on tags replies wherever always great to read those) #(and in general chat with y'all)

[front-facing-pokemon]

#something is very obviously different about these two compared to my normal images on this blog. i acknowledge this #also the sv model is Really good. and since they always stare straight at the camera anyway… and no one pays attention to the background… #and the only high-quality phantump model i could find was so horribly shiny that its eyes were just white voids #in my defense‚ phantump always just stare straight at you in game #the lighting is different‚ yeah. that's probably the dead giveaway. beyond the background. but like. i'm the only being on the planet who #really likes phantump anyway. i feel like it's a generally forgettable pokémon to most folks #phantump #HELLO this one is a weird one. i have some explaining to do. so when i did this one i didn't know how to edit models really at all #and when i got the models for these‚ the xy models were super shiny. shiny to the point that it made their eyes fuckin invisible #and i decided that since you could barely tell it was phantump‚ i needed a different way to get these images #i remembered that in the SV dlc‚ every time you find a wild phantump‚ it just fucking. stares. at you. and i was like. aha #i kinda remembered because of the test stream that i did. tumblr user alligayytorr (am i getting the right amount of Ys) said #“haha i am getting a sneak peek” when i zoomed the camera in on a phantump. and i remembered that. and i was like. i can utilize this #and ended up using just an in-game screenshot of SV in replacement of the regular content. later on‚ after that #once we got into gen 7 and it became less and less reliable to find models‚ i had to learn how to edit them manually to remove the shine #i am a software dev. not a 3d modeler. this ended up coming down to editing the code of the models directly (which i ended up writing a #script to automate). now‚ today‚ january 22nd (the day of me writing these tags and updating this post)‚ i remembered this post was in the #queue and was not normal. so i went back‚ ran the script on the phantump and trevenant models‚ and unshinified them #then edited these two posts to be normal. i have left the original pictures i took under the cut for reference and as bonuses #because i really enjoy phantump. so that's why those images are there‚ and that's why these tags are here #just for posterity's sake‚ the folks who come here mostly for my commentary‚ i've left the ORIGINAL tags of the post when i initially #made it with the SV pictures up at the top (i wanted to rearrange them‚ but tumblr makes that Very difficult‚ so i left them as-is) #so if these tags are confusing to read i Apologize. but i hope now that you're at the bottom you understand what happened #i'm gonna go edit the trevenant post now

[sourscratched]

the hand that feeds

#dimension 20 #my art #acoc #trw #many thoughts about them that im unable to articulate #just thinking a lot about how they were probably around the same age during the events of trw #and i think a lot about karna as far as i know not knowing any other warlocks of the hungry one besides herself #the scene in the inn when she looks in the mirror at the rot growing hits me so hard #something about being so young and all alone with the dread you feel about your own body #who can you tell who would get it #who can you tell that it wouldn’t feel like giving them something to use against you #idk i just think about these two a lot #wonder what it would’ve been like if they could have met each other #(do i have a fic where they meet that ive been procrastinating on uploading to ao3 for months. Maybe) #(i don’t write like Ever and i haven’t had the confidence to share it yet. anyway) #this whole post is just me talking to a wall lmao don’t mind me everyone #a crown of candy #the ravening war

[uncanny-tranny]

I love giving advice, apparently, so if you are a newly pierced person or are planning on being pierced, here are some of the things I found helpful, as somebody who isn't a professional piercer but has had six plus piercings on my face and body, and multiple ear piercings (which I don't count, since I DIY'd them):

Normal bath towels are your enemy, proceed with caution after bathing. NEVER wipe moisture away from a fresh piercing, always pat it dry

You will hit a new piercing and it will hurt. This is inevitable, just know that you likely haven't destroyed it. Feel free to cry, though, it hurts like hell.

If your piercer gives you instructions, heed them. If you're on restrictions, please take it as seriously as possible

When you're going in for a piercing, please eat or drink something - at least what constitutes as a snack for your body. It really helps

If you're getting an oral piercing, make sure you size down after the healing period - I hadn't sized down for my last oral piercing when I first had the chance, and it was... so annoying to have too-large of jewelry

Not all jewelry is made equally. Do your research on materials, threading, and sizing. I've found that titanium jewelry is really nice for me, and I like it, but that isn't the only option. Make sure you think about your body and its needs and preferences

Close your eyes while being pierced (I found this really helps me)

Don't over-clean a new piercing, twice per day is usually a good place to start

The completed healing period is a very average suggestion - you may heal slower or faster. Try to adhere to that suggestion, though, especially if you do not feel you're healed enough

Personally, I have found that I am completely healed when my piercing feels like just another part of my body, even when it is touched. When my piercings start to feel as though they are foreign when they never do before, I know I likely need to clean them

While I have DIY'd piercings, I personally do not recommend it, especially if you are either not using sterilized equipment, or are piercing a very dangerous place (like the tongue). If you are absolutely positive about committing to the DIY mindset, please try to do due diligence in research at least

Tip your piercer. Body mods are a luxury service, and it takes years to even become a piercer, much less to be proficient at it. Tip your piercer, ESPECIALLY if their prices feel too good to be true - they likely are. Unless you are directed otherwise by your piercer, just assume that you will be tipping them for their services and budget accordingly

Make sure you understand how your piercer wants you to take care of your piercing, and ask questions. There is no question too "dumb"

If you are getting a body part pierced you are insecure about, realize your piercer has most likely seen HUNDREDS of different body parts of various sizes, shapes, and oddities. Your body is not uniquely bad, nor would a good piercer make you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable with your body. If they do, however, DO NOT go through with the piercing. You should feel safe being pierced by somebody, and, indeed, that is the bare minimum.

If you use saline wash to clean piercings, you can DIY it. You will go through NeilMed like no other, and with it being $5USD a bottle, that price can rack up quickly. Make sure you use distilled water and non-iodized salt, though

If your piercing is infected, please don't be too ashamed to seek help. It's in your best interest to make sure you don't get ill or your site gets nasty ("nasty" as in painful)

These are just some of the things I've learned being a pierced person! My piercings are something I absolutely needed, and I do not for a minute regret having them. I want that same happiness to befall you, and that happens when you are able to understand a bit more what goes into piercings. You are, essentially, getting a new body part installed by a pro, and so I don't want you to not be ready for that.

Again, I am not a professional piercer, but am rather a body piercing enthusiast with many different types of piercings. I don't have every piercing, though, so please look at this critically for the piercing(s) that you want or have. At least, treat this like a soft suggestion or ways to help you brainstorm what you will find helpful.

More tips are obviously welcomed, especially if you yourself have more insight or expertise. Good luck to every pierced person or future pierced person reading this💛

#body modification #body mods #piercings #body piercing #long post #honestly i love having a professional relationship with my piercer and i feel so happy to be pierced by her #i think the client and piercer relationship is a very important aspect of getting a piercing #and i don't think people talk about that part much. you should feel SAFE being around your piercer #they are literally creating a new hole in your body with a needle. that is a very vulnerable position to be in #but i'm honestly shocked at how cheap my piercer is... #...so my last piercing was only $50USD and that included the (nice) jewelry. i feel that in that cast tipping 60% was worth it... #...i know that can rack up the cost of the piercing but especially if you LIKE your piercer (like i do) - try being as generous as possible #i personally LOVE tipping my piercer and it's the best way i can show her that i LOVE her work even when i tell her #love having a personal blog that i can be autistic about piercings!!!!! I LOVE THIS ANCIENT TRADITIONNNN #one of my profs let us write about anything as long as it was an essay and i went Insane writing about historical piercing practices #LOVE ALL TYPES OF PIERCINGS especially ones that are used to 'scare' outsiders <3 #when i was a kid they used to tell us about the Mystical African Tribes that STRETCHED THEIR LIPS (scary!!!!)... #...if it isn't obvious i hate that the lip plate especially practiced by the Mursi and many others have been used for frankly rascist ideas #i brought up the lip thing because i learned a lot about iirc the Mursi practice of lip plating and it's given me more appreciation for it!! #it's ENDLESSLY fascinating and i wish i hadn't been shown the negative bias against them first

[purerae]

Kieran would def clutch his hands like arthur when he knew his crush's dream man is nanami like- BIG DILF ENERGY, responsible, dutiful and blonde? The things he isn't lmao, imagine him choking in rage when he read the smut fanfics that his crush wrote like the FILTHY filthy smut that even kieran didn't even delve into irl.

oh my god LMFAOO kieran would literally hate it if your dream man is Nanami because hes so immature compared to him. This guy already hates on blonde dudes because he thinks they’re off brand versions of him so his hatred would go up by 100x.

and to come to Kieran’s defense a little (even though i rarely do 🙏) if Kieran found out you wrote filthy smut about a character i feel like he’d tease the living shit out of you and make jokes about recreating it or ‘being better.’ This man would do almost literally anything in bed if it made you happy. If you wrote smut about a character specifically, he’d still get extremely jealous and say shit like “What’s the point in writing stuff, when you can recreate it with me?”

#to all my blonde babes out there he does not hate you #he just hates all the guys who are blonde and are slightly interested in you #when hes extremely self centered but you can still tell deep down hes insecure LOL #i feel like i could write an essay on how complex this man really is #what a silly guy #purerae #yandere blog #male yandere #yandere playboy #delete later #yandere headcanons #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc #yandere male

[courtney-deserved-better]

telling myself i can't start another tdwt rewrite but dear god do i want to write one focusing on alejandro and courtney in this weird situationship thats a lot more nuanced than just alejandro manipulating courtney and her falling for it. like theyre best friends they dont trust each other theyre the same person they dont know anything about the other one theres a mutual attraction theyre pining for other people theyre codependent they dont care about each other theyre platonic soulmates like i just want to do a deep dive into how messy that relationship couldve been building off of their friendship that exists in my head except the line between romantic and platonic is so fucking blurred they have no idea what they are to the other person

#they live rent free in my head as you can tell #ive been writing some intense moments for them in amicus curiae and im having a lot of Feelings about platonic alecourtney #tbh the whole concept of them replacing the best friends has been a great avenue for me to do a deep dive into their friendship #aughhhh i just. love them so much #and i do want to explore them in a situation where there is relationship potential even if that relationship never actually happens #because everything between them during tdwt could be so MESSY!! #like alejandro says he's just manipulating courtney but he's also doing it to make heather jealous but he's also genuinely worried about he #after the duncan thing but this is the only way he knows how to express that concern without making himself look weak #meanwhile courtney is falling for the act but she also knows its an act and is going with it for the emotional support it provides and shes #just doing it to make duncan/gwen jealous but she also is starting to see the real alejandro underneath it all because he does care even #though he doesn't want to and they do feel a strong connection that they dont know whether its platonic or romantic because romance is bein #shoved down their throats on this show and theyre both in complicated romantic dynamics with other people that theyre the easier option for #one another but they dont really want to be with one another like it just doesnt feel right #okay okay i legit have to stop and go to bed but just. them. im thinking so hard about them #platonic alecourtney

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

The whole discourse about the privacy/secrecy/support thing has been sitting with me for a few days (I mean other than it always does to a certain degree) thanks to all the excellent discussion happening and I know I'm not saying anything that hasn't been said a million times before, but I think what we're seeing and what we're going to learn (e.g. from TTPD) is that it wasn't just the support issue, but how it was shown/handled.

We've all gone out of our way to show that introversion =/= lack of support. Someone can be shy, reserved, etc. and still show up for their partner, whether in public or at home. To chalk any of the differences up to the clash between introversion and extroversion is unfair to folks who count themselves among either tbh.

@thisisctrying said something the other day that hit the nail on the head about how if that support had been offered in private, there very well may not have been a Joever to begin with, or at least not at this point in time. (Sorry for loosely paraphrasing, and for namedropping you! Long time listener, first time poster.)

If this were a case where the "shy" partner said, "I am really uncomfortable with the spotlight personally and do not want to court it, but I will support you in your ambitions and offer you whatever you need to make them happen and make the glare bearable," I suspect that would have gone a long way to making Taylor feel seen and comfortable in pursuing her goals in the way that she now has. Again, that might have been more akin to the balance that seemed to have been struck around 2019 from what we can see, but even speaking in a general sense, there are lots of couples out there, celebrity or not, that have similar approaches where there are highly driven people and busy careers involved.

(A famous example being Dolly Parton's marriage. Tbh I know next to nothing about her and Carl, but she's always heralded as an example in this regard, because her husband is famously uncomfortable with the spotlight and hasn't accompanied her to public events in decades, but she's said that she never minded that because that was always work to her, and what was important was that he supported her in pursuing all her career goals and basically ensured she had a place to call home to return to at the end of the day.)

We're kind of in a brave new world with her current relationship because it felt like, at least at the start, we were maybe watching her figure out her boundaries in real time as to what she was comfortable with or not and adjust accordingly. Like so many have said, I fully believe the extreme privacy thing was initially driven by herself and her experiences in 2016, and she needed that quiet time to recover from all of the things and figure out how to exist in the world again.

Stating the obvious, it seemed like eventually privacy was equated with secrecy, turning the relationship and the celebrity into the elephant in the room and something to never be spoken of to the outside world. People are free to choose whatever works best for themselves and their relationships, and for some the separate public lives might work, but the “kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath” theme is all over her work and it’s clear that it’s a sore spot for her, because she’s been made to feel shame just for the life she leads so many times in the past.

What I’m trying to say is that it’s pretty obvious something Not Great was happening behind the scenes, which didn’t just amount to “she wanted to be a public celebrity and he wanted to be a private hermit.” (Also, in case anyone forgot, this is a person who also chose a public-facing career who also has to engage in press for it, but I digress.) As her career reached new heights post-folklore, if she had the support at home to do all the things without judgment and with encouragement, and in turn offer the same support to her partner, she may have very well lived just fine with that, not unlike Dolly Parton’s case.

By reading between the lines in all the press since, as well as comments on tour and general ~vibes~ with TTPD teasers, it seems like one of the issues was that that was likely not the case. There was all the stuff that we saw — the reticence to acknowledge each other in the media (particularly on one side), the lack of public support even at events at which they were both in attendance for their respective jobs, the great lengths they went to not to be photographed together at events they attended yet no problem taking pictures with other friends and coworkers, the jobs that separated them, the withdrawing from the public even for work accomplishments, etc. Which could all be manageable if a couple chooses to do so together and are not inherently a sign of trouble in themselves.

But what we’re seeing now I think is a reflection of the things we weren’t seeing then, and it seems to indicate some very deep hurt. (I know, call me Captain Obvious.) And like so many have been saying, it feels likely that that part of that hurt is rooted in that very lack of private support where a person would expect it from their partner. Obviously as a Taylor fan blog I’m going to be more inclined to understand her side of a story, but tbh, it’s also because… this is sooooooo common, and something I’ve experienced in my friend group. (@taylortruther is right when she says most breakups are the same one way or another lol.)

One partner is resentful of the other’s success, or resentful that the other’s priorities begin to evolve as new experiences unlock new goals, or feels the other’s ambitions are not worthy of pursuit, and coupled with perhaps their own struggles in the same domain, it’s easy to see where that can chip away at the other partner’s morale and faith in the relationship. I know I’m just speculating here, but I also don’t think it’s totally unfounded. (Again, because a) I’m picking up what she’s putting down and b) it happens to sooooooo many women even among us dull normals.)

With all the pointed mentions about how much Taylor feels supported in her current relationship and how she in turn loves to offer the same show of support to not only her partner but other loved ones, how she’s stepped out more in the last year to a whole host of events, how she’s mentioned feeling like she locked herself away for years and she’s just proud of her partner and happy she can show up for him even if the chaos around it is unsettling, it paints a picture of what perhaps was happening before last year.

To feel like you’re all alone in carrying the weight of the relationship (or burden of it), of twisting yourself into knots to accommodate the other person’s boundaries (or insecurities) but not feeling reciprocity for your own has to be so painful. (The idea that it may have been even darker and to have a partner not only be unreceptive to your own needs but even perhaps resentful/dismissive/belittling of them is even more painful to think of. I guess we’ll find out when TTPD comes out if that was the case, too.)

At a certain point, that lack of acknowledgement will force your hand to be able to reclaim yourself. And it feels like the further removed Taylor in particular is from it, the more she moves from being sad about the life she felt she gave up by leaving, to angry at the life she felt she was giving up by staying. Especially being in a relationship now where it seems like everything comes much easier, where she can be open about the person she’s with and show up for them, all the stuff that seemed as challenging as climbing Mount Everest in her past is nothing more than a molehill at best in her current life.

TL;DR: I don’t think it’s privacy that inherently spells doom for a celebrity relationship like this; it’s the mutual support and respect that does. If Taylor had felt that in the later years of her previous relationship, I think we could be seeing a different, though not necessarily unfulfilled, person right now in 2024, who’d be happy on tour but whose personal life would look a little different. But it seems like by losing that support she lost parts of herself, and we’ve seen her reclaim that in spades in the last year, and perhaps to degrees she didn’t even realize she could from before all the Bad Stuff started happening in her young adulthood.

I know this was extremely long-winded and unnecessary, especially about total strangers we only know through scraps fed through the media, but I just always bristle at this idea that issues like these boil down to “personality differences,” as though one person wants to live in a city and the other on a remote island, or some shit like that. The whole support (and gender tbh) issue is one that’s just very close to my heart because again, I have seen it play out with so many of my friends in long term relationships and marriages and I just think people in relationships (and women in particular in some circles) deserve better than to feel like they’re being, well, tolerated.

#thisisctrying and taylortruther sorry for tagging you two! #can remove if needed! #but you guys made me think a lot #this was inspired by a conversation i had with a friend the other day #where she relayed an argument she had with her partner #who basically felt slighted that he wasn’t getting acknowledgement for all the housework he does — which is. just. the dishes #and she was like ‘wow congrats you’ve done the dishes — i do every other fucking thing to keep this household afloat in ways you see #and don’t see and i never ask for praise because it’s just stuff that needs to get done because that’s how you support your family’ #and it just reminded me that some partners (and a certain kind of man in particular) just… think their struggles take precedence #when their partners drown in them everyday but keep things afloat out of necessity and are never recognized or supported for it #(my friends have shitty husbands/boyfriends can you tell lol) #long post #again the way i just feel like i know the vibes of ttpd in my bones are 😵‍💫 #i feel like i have a lot more thoughts but I’m trying to be more gracious and less parasocial so #also just want to again defend the introverts of the world by reiterating that being introverted does not mean unsupportive #being a shitty partner does though! #writing letters addressed to the fire #it’s also just like… i feel like if Taylor had had even a modicum of the support in private and even public she needed #she’d probably still be with you know who and wouldn’t have considered leaving let alone doing it #because it would have felt like enough and like it was what was needed for both of them #whereas we’re seeing a completely new side of her open up now because this is the first time she’s ever had that support from a partner #in her adult life at least #and it’s like it’s opening up things she didn’t know she needed or wanted