#ive only ever written like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

do-not-lick-the-walls · 2 months

Note

Hi! i love your writing, i was wondering if you could do a beelzebub head cannon list?

love like yours | beelzebub headcanons

masterlist

a/n: ahhh hi nonnie! Thank you so much for my first request!! <3 ive never done a headcanon list before, so I hope this is good/what you meant! I went with some falling in love stuff since you didn't specify any theme or anything. Happy Valentines!

ineffable taglist: @sarcastic-sourwolf , @angelofthenight <3

---

• They fall without realizing it.

• Centuries of shoving down every positive emotion has them so, so horribly out of touch with their feelings. They don't believe they're actually capable of love. Or anything else that... soft.

• But you make something bubble up in their chest. A kind of fluttering that's refusing to stay down, no matter how many times they stuff it back under the bed.

• It's infuriating.

• It's fascinating.

• You're fascinating.

• Every habit, every mannerism, every little oddity of yours they discover is pinned to the map of you that keeps popping up in their head.

• They don't mean to study you so intensely, it just... keeps happening.

• How can they not?? You're just sitting there being so damn interesting, what else are they supposed to do? Confront their own feelings? Hahahahahahaha

• No.

• They're falling harder every day and desperately trying to ignore the shit out of it.

• Eventually the council gets fed up and stages an intervention. All this emotional repression is piled on so thick its becoming a workplace hazard.

• "You need to get it together, Beez. This is physically painful to watch."

• "I am not in love!"

• "Stop lying. I found this poem in your room. Its horrible."

• "Give that back!!!"

• (The poem is bad. Like really, really bad. It never sees the light of day again, for everyone's benefit.)

• Even after they're done repeatedly going through all 5 stages of grief and finally accept that they love you, it still takes a while longer for them to fess up.

• They chicken out like 4 different times before finally going for it.

• They try to be suave and cool, but you kind of turn them into a puddle of lovestruck goop.

• They dont know how to express their feelings normally, let alone while you're standing right there in front of them, and looking at them with your gorgeous eyes and smiling your little smile and oh god oh fuck---

• It comes out as mostly a string of incoherent words and noises that sound like they might be having some kind of celestial stroke.

• When its clear they're not getting the point across, they just kiss you.

• ...?

• ...!

• !!!!!

• That does the trick.

• <3

#fic #good omens #beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #good omens x reader #x reader #beelzebub good omens #good omens beelzebub x reader #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #headcanon #headcanon fic #bullet point fic #x reader headcanons #i hope yall enjoyed this ive never done it before #ive only ever written like #fully #so this was fun!#also i spent way too long making that dumb little banner thing at the top

29 notes · View notes

time-woods · 5 months

Note

the way im on my hands and knees rn begging the universe for you to make a fanfic rn, like bro please i need this😭🙏 i need the medieval au fully realized. they are keeping me sane

ive been thinking about it- i dont really think of myself as a very good writer so no promises,,

#asks #ive only ever written like 3 fanfics #i would probably write them like scripts if i did

202 notes · View notes

dreemurr-skelememer · 3 months

Note

I'm gonna be anonymous when I say this because I have seen this done by many people... I strongly dislike the "Error and Nightmare gang are the good guys and trying to make the universe stable while The star sanses are the idiots who will not see reason" .. Like... I .. really? I'm not sure if the reason why I don't like it is because I have seen it so many times or what but it annoys me dearly. The members of the star sanses are reasonable and they are just often made as one sided ignorant people- I mean okay Lets go on the different pov, on the bad sanse side: You see them risk their lives every day getting themselves hurt over and over again all to defend different worlds for the sake of bringing what they believe to be peace and you label them as the fools who just want all the glory- really??? people who get hurt over and over again just do it for that stupid reasons??? I mean come on! Seeing as generally it is shown that the bad sanses want peace as well why not be trying to reach an agreement??? you fight over and over again and you couldn't even be bothered to try and reach their heads to finally listen to what you are saying like what "in a way" dream has done with nightmare countless times but they cant do the same? Just have them fight knowing that the other side are in the wrong and you choose to do nothing but break them?? Like is this your pride or something?? Why are they labelled as good guys yet they allow the other side to fight to their deaths with a good motive in mind but they only lack the full picture?? How am i suppose to "root for you" if this is what you do????? We get inside information of how peaceful they are and how they care for each other deeply, but if you care so much for each other why would you allow the other side to keep fighting your loved ones when they are missing the big picture, you know the big picture yet you say... NOTHING. NADA. ZILCH!! you cannot tell me that they don't listen to you when you barely speak up about the true issue or find a way to show them- you maybe say it once or twice in the whole story and then any other time you go straight to fighting or just avoid them.. COWARDS!! ALL OF THEM!! And in these stories the star sanses always state their reasons for their interference yet you cannot tell them why you are doing this?? All that comes out your mouth are insults and sneers, who would want to believe you when that is all the comes out of your MOUTHS... Excuse me... Just pissed sorry for the long rant.. Oh my gosh AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON DREAM AND NIGHTMARE, DUDE YOU GOT THE BALLS TO BLAME YOUR KID BROTHER FOR BEING A KID AND NOT RECOGNISING YOUR TRAUMA EVEN NOW AS YOU ARE MUCH MORE MATURE AND HAVE THE ABILITY TO REALIZE WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU BOTH AS CHILDREN????? Is he the one holding onto the past or is it you??? Night is always depicted as the dadmare, boss, the caring lover, the brother yet he doesn't even have the decency to face the fact he abandoned his brother in stone for 500 years or so, when he comes out you automatically hate him for something he had no idea or control of and choose to ignore his pleads, when your brother wants to reach you, you break him over and over again not wanting him in your life ever again when as i said before he was your "KID BROTHER" and you want to tell me your the good one for just wanting to cut him off with no answers or anything? You gotta be pulling my leg bro... and it would be a different story if the dreamtale background is different but no! it isnt! nothing is said to make it seem dream was an abuser of sorts, they were both hurt and yet you blame dream for all of it you have a whole ass support system yet that is your mindset??? I cant.... I really cant Uh sorry again for this long ass rant though =w=

anon our souls are holding hands resonating as one

my two cents on this (that isn't something i said. a million times before already) is that it's usually because people refuse to see the star sanses in the same light they do the bad sanses the people who actively dislike the star sanses and what they do usually do so because they can't relate to them, from what i've noticed

the bad sanses are easier to root for because of the fact that they are made of struggle and the dirty, gritty parts of morality and life so to say it's easier to think of good things in the middle of so much bad, because it's in our nature as people to look for hope or root for the good, no matter how little it is having the ability to look for goodness and love in so much evil is a form of love in of itself everybody struggles and life sucks and sometimes the world is evil and sometimes we do bad things, but that's the thing, the fact that we as people find something good in the middle of it all (like finding familial love bloom in the bad sanses, as an example) is very inspiring. at least to me!!! that's how i see it!!!! that's how i like to think people see it as well because that's how i see and enjoy them together so i can totally see why people find more relatability and love for the bad sanses. i really do get it and i agree!! like a lot!!!!! i love them too

but that exact reason is also why it really sucks that people just don't see the star sanses in the same light?

i wanna reemphasize my point in relatability: it's difficult for most people to relate to the star sanses because inherently they are the heroes, the protagonists, the main characters, because nobody are any of those things i feel like people often put them on a pedestal because of their central tropes and characteristics. they have it all already, they don't need more praise, right?

i think the biggest problem people have with the star sanses, like your whole ramble very clearly shows, is that they don't humanize them i feel like a lot of people assume that just because they are good and choose to be good and are praised for being good, they are unreachable people don't think they struggle. that it sucks being that.

it's often why i like writing the star sanses with so much struggle and so much mental illness lol, because being good is fucking HARD and they're as imperfect as everybody else. dream is anxious, ink is brash, blue is a workaholic, stuff like that

there's a lot to say but it's just....the bad sanses and the star sanses are two sides of the same coin. the bad sanses is finding good in the middle of, basically, evil and misdeed the star sanses is finding struggle in the middle of trying to do good

people often portray both of them black and white morals and it's why it gets frustrating and flat and badly written.

idk, just like how i find inspiration in the bad sanses of finding hope and love in the middle of darkness, i really admire the implications of the star sanses when you actually decide to humanize them. because if you make the star sanses struggle throughout their praise, glory, and righteousness, it's...really admirable that they still choose to do good.

like you said, the star sanses risk their lives often and fight, offering treaties and agreements, just to make things right that's so??? admirable????? like for the amount of times the bad sanses fucking fight them, i genuinely would've just given up completely, but they just....don't??? and that's so admirable and sweet? it makes them so deserving of their titles as guardians.

idk!!! this is a massive ramble too, i don't even know where i was going with it but like, yeah, i think i wanted to talk mostly about why people preferred the bad sanses over the star sanses and how it makes me sad i get you anon. with my whole body and my whole soul. i understand what you mean and i see you

#Anonymous #idk like. if these fuckers were real and protecting my multiverse id spare some sympathy for them #i would hate for people to call them stupid for not trying or not being the best bc theyre literally the only ones keeping me alive #< (hypothetical situation btw. thought id say that again in case it wasnt clear)#ive already talked enough about how i dont like people making the star sanses evil (unless its written well)#and pretend that everything the bad sanses do is good and that theyre sweet wittol babie beans #like what if i like them evil. they would kick my ass and that's what i prefer tbh #anyway yeah............different flavor ramble from me today i guess. im just sad the star sanses arent humanized ever

97 notes · View notes

shitouttabuck · 7 months

Note

Buddie unintentional cuddles can power me through a whole week, so the prompt 3. Person A waking up to Person B curled up and sleeping on top of them really spoke to me <3

hiya thank u frida and @colonoscopys for sendin this one in (and an anon too!!!) very much distracted me from my wisdom tooth woes. i need to add a disclaimer that this is NOT kink it’s just sleepy drunkenness please trust me lol (rated t even!!!! not horny!!!!!!! just unbelievably stupid!!!!)

bed-sharing prompts: person A waking up to person B curled up and sleeping on top of them

put on a slow dumb show for you | 2.2k | read under cut or on ao3

Buck wakes with the same unshiftable heaviness on his chest that he gets mid-panic attack. Except—his body is incredibly confused, because while the physical pressure is bearing down, making breathing a struggle, every other cell in his body is telling him the opposite: no reason to panic, he’s warm and swaddled and safer than he’s ever been.

His brain scrambles to organise this juxtaposition of sensations. The room is dark, and not unfamiliar, even if he’s spent the night in here less than a handful of times. Eddie’s digital alarm clock is blinking at him, and Eddie’s recently mounted décor of three framed photographs on the far wall is facing him, and Eddie’s entire fucking body is draped over Buck’s and crushing the breath out of him.

Oh. Okay. The second half of his cells were right, then—he’s safe. His heart can stop racing now. And it does, a bit.

But his brain keeps reaching for puzzle pieces, laying them out for assessment before him. His mouth tastes like he licked the bottom of a public trash can, and there’s a sharp twinge behind his temple, and he feels more than a little nauseous.

That’ll be the last five tequila shots Ravi pressed into his hands pre-karaoke. Eddie’d just stumbled off stage, arm-in-arm with Karen, fresh off a You’re Still The One duet that had Karen sniffling half-way through and making grabby-hands at an amused but equally-smitten Hen. Buck had only enough time to whoop as Eddie curtsied dramatically before they were calling his name.

Buck’s good at a lot of things, but singing is not one of them. He’d whined and stammered and straight-up crawled under the table before Ravi, sweet, evil Ravi, had ducked down to join him with a tray of shots. After that is—a bit of a blur, to be honest. There was some Carly Rae Jepsen, maybe? He remembers sliding back into their booth next to Eddie and watching the rest of their friends be disgustingly romantic.

That, coupled with the best friend he’s a little unbearably in love with singing the most hopeful love song ever written, is just a recipe for Buck’s heart to get a little messy. And maybe it made him bolder with his affection than usual? Clingier, anyway. He must’ve been pretty needy for Eddie to let him crash in his bed. But Eddie’s always making sure Buck has what he needs, so that isn’t anything new. And Eddie must’ve been pretty wasted too, if this total lack of personal space is any indication.

Buck doesn’t think Eddie’ll mind waking up like this—a perk of having a physically affectionate straight best friend is that he’s mostly oblivious to a classic no homo situation. He breathes deep, weight on top of him grounding instead of suffocating, lets himself tentatively wrap an arm around Eddie to hold him steady as his chest rises with the depth of his inhale, and closes his eyes again.

Except Eddie snuffles and shifts and then jams his knee directly into Buck’s bladder. After the drinks he put away tonight? Buck’s dangerously full bladder.

“Fuck,” he squeaks, desperately trying to shift Eddie to the side. “Oh—fuck.” He clenches—everything, really, because he’s too old to wet the bed and too fond of the life he has to wet Eddie’s bed, as the aftermath of that really only involves fleeing the country.

In the end, fear of that outweighs any qualms he has about waking a peacefully slumbering Eddie, and he all but shoves him off, gasping a breath of relief when Eddie’s weight shifts from his bladder to his thighs.

“Whu—what?” Eddie slurs, scrambling up with a pinched expression. “Buck? What’s wrong?” He sits up clumsily, straddling Buck’s thighs.

“Nothing,” Buck says, voice strained. “Sorry, I’m sorry, just—really need to piss. And…” He gestures uselessly between them, face contorted in apology.

“Oh,” Eddie frowns. “Okay. Cool.”

“Cool,” Buck echoes, feeling hysterical. “Um, I’m gonna…” He tries to tug his legs free from under Eddie and Eddie clambers off obligingly.

Buck swings himself out of bed and hurries down the hall to the bathroom, cursing himself for everything from waking Eddie to ruining what could’ve been the cuddle session of his dreams to going and fucking falling in love with his best friend in the first place.

He lets the door swing shut behind him and absentmindedly lifts the toilet seat, shoving a hand into his boxers and then just about leaping a foot in the air when the door squeaks open again and Eddie shuffles over to stand behind him, resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder.

“Um,” Buck says, feeling dizzy for reasons that are only partly alcohol related. “Uh.”

“D’you need a hand?” Eddie asks sleepily.

Buck laughs nervously, frozen facing the wall with his hand down his boxers. “Uh. What?”

Eddie yawns, muffling the back-half of it into Buck’s shoulder and crowding closer, plastering himself along Buck’s back. Does Buck have alcohol poisoning? Is this the tequila version of an absinthe hallucination?

“D’you need me to hold it?” Eddie clarifies, nuzzling Buck’s shoulder gently.

Buck chokes on his own spit, body buckling as he pulls his hand out his underwear to thump his own chest. No, he skipped straight past the alcohol poisoning, he’s dead, not even a coma could dream this up.

Eddie steps back, frowning in concern when Buck finally spins to face him, eyes wide. His whole body is taut, stark contrast to the sleepy slump of Eddie’s shoulders.

“Do I—what?” he manages.

“Sorry, I wasn’t, like, trying to baby you,” Eddie says, looking unsure. “But after earlier—”

“Earlier,” Buck echoes. Eddie’s gaze has dropped to south of Buck’s navel, where his boxers have rucked up enough to leave a considerable amount of his happy trail on display. He yanks the waistband up quickly, and Eddie’s head snaps up too, cheeks dusted pink. Then his face, his perfect, beautiful face, falls.

“Wait, Buck—do you not remember? After karaoke?” he asks, taking a step back. “Oh, I—I didn’t think you were that drunk.”

“I wasn’t,” Buck insists, racking his brain, and oh.

The tequila-soaked memory swims up, Buck desperate for the toilet and stubborn about being able to get there himself, despite tripping over his stupid Bambi legs not two steps from their table. Eddie laughing and slinging an arm around him, half-carrying him to the men’s room. Buck standing in front of the urinal, frowning and arms flopping helplessly at his sides.

“Eddie,” he’d whined. “My hands aren’t working.”

Eddie’d laughed again, fond and warm, and asked if he wanted to sit in a stall.

“No,” Buck had pouted. “My zip…” He’d turned to Eddie, lopsided grin and beseeching eyes, and Eddie’d shaken his head and come to stand behind him. He’d undone Buck’s zipper and asked, “Alright?” and Buck had pouted some more.

“Can you help?” he’d asked, mortifyingly pathetic. Eddie’d raised an eyebrow and snorted, and then Buck had said, “Eddieee. These are my nice jeans. My hands don’t work. Your hands are perfect.”

Eddie’d muttered, “Might as well happen like this,” and slipped a hand into Buck’s jeans and—ah. Held his dick while he peed.

“Oh,” Buck says now, voice small. “Fuck, Eds, I’m sorry.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, somewhat blearily. “Why? I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, but I know—I don’t think we’re on the same page. I don’t—” Buck closes his eyes and presses the heels of his palms into them. “I don’t think it meant the same thing for us.”

“Oh,” Eddie’s face is suddenly unreadable. He crosses his arms over his chest and takes another step back. Buck wants to cry. He basically tricked his best friend into touching him—doesn’t matter if Eddie did it platonically, because drunk or not, genuinely needing help to piss or not, Buck’s pretty sure his own intentions were not all that innocent.

“I’m so sorry, Eds,” he says. “I was drunk as hell—that’s not an excuse, but it won’t happen again. I—I’ll be better at keeping it to myself. The last thing I ever want is to make you feel uncomfortable around me.”

Something passes over Eddie’s face. “Wait,” he says slowly, “you asked me to hold your dick as friends?” There’s an uncertain lilt to the question, like he truly doesn’t know what the answer is anymore.

“Uh,” Buck says. He could use the confusion to wrestle the cat back into the bag and then ship said bag one-way to Nicaragua, but Eddie’s looking a little lost, arms crossed in his black vest and boxers and mismatched socks. Buck can’t be the cause of that. “No. I’m sorry. I wasn’t—I swear I wasn’t trying to trick you. I was just really drunk.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, stepping forward again and reaching out to tug Buck in by the hem of his t-shirt. “What’s the problem then?” He slides a warm hand under Buck’s shirt, smoothing it across his skin.

Buck inhales sharply, blood rushing to his brain and cheeks and cock so quickly he reaches for the porcelain toilet tank behind him to steady himself. “W-wait. Were you holding my dick as friends?”

Eddie blinks at him, disbelief slowly overtaking the slack sleepiness of his facial muscles. “You thought—is that generally something your friends do for you?”

“No, but…” Buck falters. “Why—why did you, then? Why else would you…”

“I was holding your dick because I want to kiss it,” Eddie snaps, and then claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and horrified. “I want to kiss you,” he amends. “You, not your—I mean, sure, that too, but. Can you say something.”

The many million times Buck has daydreamed and fantasised and wished for this, he’s never anticipated fuzzy patches in his memory of it. But these things are clear: waking up with Eddie plastered to him like he wants to touch Buck at every possible point, Eddie following him in here unprompted and pressing up against him with unchecked affection, because even in his sleepy state Eddie just wants to make sure Buck has what he needs, even if what he needs is help holding his dick in a context that’s soft and sleepy and miles from sexual.

“You came in here to hold my dick,” he says, grin spreading.

Eddie’s cheeks are so rosy, rosier than they’d been with the flush of alcohol, even. “I came in here because I didn’t want your uncoordinated drunk ass pissing all over my bathroom.”

“Aw, Eds, you romantic,” Buck says, stepping closer. Eddie sighs exasperatedly, tilting his face up expectantly anyway. But, oh—

“Did we kiss already?” Buck asks, heart dropping. “Do I not remember?”

Eddie brings up one large palm to rub Buck’s sternum gently. “Nah. Didn’t seem like the right time. I kinda—I wanted to do that not-drunk.”

“Oh,” Buck says, sagging with relief. “Good.” Eddie gives him a sleepy, wonky smile, and Buck says, “I’m not drunk now.”

Eddie huffs a laugh, stepping back and patting Buck’s chest. “Nope, just hungover and harbouring the most toxic tequila-flavoured morning breath anyone’s ever had.”

“Don’t forget desperate to pee,” Buck grins. “You gonna help a guy out?” He flaps his arms limply, batting his lashes at Eddie.

Eddie grumbles unintelligibly, lips twitching with amusement as he bodily rearranges Buck to face the toilet again. Buck melts back into the cradle of his arms, safe and sleepy and sated enough that his dick doesn’t do any more than he needs it to right now, even with Eddie’s warm hand wrapped around it.

They stumble back to bed, Buck belatedly remembering he’s not washed his hands but deciding not to care if Eddie doesn’t, and when Buck flops down, Eddie’s right back on top of him.

Buck wheezes as the breath’s punched out of his lungs, and it becomes a laugh, and this time he wraps both arms firmly around Eddie to hold him tight. Eddie exhales into the crook of his neck, breath hot and a little gross, and then lifts his head to press a close-mouthed kiss to the corner of Buck’s lips.

“This one doesn’t count,” he murmurs against Buck’s cheek. “I just can’t believe you thought I wanted to hold your dick as friends, so. It’s an almost-kiss. An IOU. Tomorrow I’m gonna kiss you till one of us passes out. Not as friends.”

“As enemies,” Buck whispers solemnly and then grunts when Eddie digs an elbow into his ribs. “As anything you want, s’long as I can keep the kissing and the dick-holding and—this.” He tightens his arms around Eddie, feeling his chest reverberate against Buck’s as he laughs.

“Deal,” he agrees, nestling closer, messy hair getting in Buck’s mouth as he shifts. “But just so you know what I want—and I don’t mean to skip ahead—though I guess we’re doing the regular dating bases all out of order anyway—” He sighs, deep and satisfied as he gets comfortable, and says, “I’m ready to have and to dick-hold you every day of the week, you know?”

Buck didn’t know, but now he does, and in eleven months’ time when he and Eddie are saying these words in front of their friends and family, sans penis, not one single person can blame him for lurching forward and kissing the adoring smirk off Eddie’s face miles before poor ordained Bobby gives him the go-ahead. Doing true love in order is overrated, anyway.

#911 fic #buddie fic #this might be the silliest thing ive ever written im so sorry frida and rain #911 #buddie #i was gonna say i have no defense for this bc the only painkillers i’m on are ibuprofen and paracetamol #but turns out i’ve had a fever all afternoon so let’s conveniently blame cognitive impairment for whatever this is yeah #nina writes #im posting it to ao3 because its over 2k but like. perhaps it shouldnt be immortalised over there.#bed sharing prompts #mine

97 notes · View notes

mamawasatesttube · 27 days

Text

heres how t4t timkon can still win.

#rimi talks #every single timkon ive ever written is t4t and always will be. wahoo #take my hand. genderfluid transmasc tim and genderqueer nb kon. do you hear me #baby tim is closeted transmasc. teen tim is like im BINARY im MAN ONLY and in stringent denial of any dysphoria--#--around having more femme or agender days bc hes like no im clearly a GUY.#adult tim is genderfluid transmasc and finally comfortable in his own skin #meanwhile kon is assigned male at cadmus and doesnt start thinking harder abt it until his resurrection #at which point he gets a lot more introspective bc hes like. i was made to die saving the world and i DID so why am i back???#whats my actual purpose then?? what AM i ????#and the ''what am i?'' question leads to the queer realizations esp in the wake of his breakup with cassie #and he just slowly figures out feelings abt gender via learning fibercrafts and cooking and ''girl stuff'' from ma #hes like. well calling it all girl stuff is stereotyping i can be a boy who likes to make lace and decorate pies!!!!!#and hes not wrong he CAN. but also hmmmm actually maybe what if hes not. a boy.#do you hear me do you see the vision. i have thoughts

37 notes · View notes

fear-no-mort · 4 months

Text

loving it keep it coming

#usually ‘they cannot be normal about eachother or the whole universe explodes’ is just a funny exaggeration thing people like to say about-#-characters they like but with these two it is quite literally canonically true. the whole universe is forever stained because of how much-#rick and morty love eachother and how intense they are when it comes to eachouther #of course this is highly exaggerated but yeah #rick will hang out with this little guy and expose him to the whole world and be the only source of comfort in both that and his normal-#-life and then be surprised when that little guy doesn’t let go of him and wants to stay with him forever and never want him to replace him #and kf course only because morty did the same to rick. he saw everything able to be seen by human eyes and then after everything only then-#-he discovered the single greatest thing ever which is Morty My Grandson Morty :). and he absolutely broke ricks heart by the smallest-#-things and drove him crazy with just how much he adores him and wants him to live and would do and sacrifice anything and he wouldn’t just #-die for morty he does that every week. he’d LIVE for morty and that’s much harder for him #but hed do anything. how the hell did i end up rambling about them like this #ive written thousands of words about these fuckers just today alone i think its safe to say.#rick and morty #odieart #odiespeak

42 notes · View notes

kennabeth · 10 months

Text

this is one of my favorite theses in the inkworld each way it plays out is so!!

elinor's dad valued his books over her and her sisters to the point she internalizes it and becomes the same kind of hermit he was, before and after the folcharts come back into her life. basta was groomed into believing he was inherently unlovable except by capricorn so he'd do anything to keep that small remaining amount of love. brianna realizes if dustfinger wasn't dead then he had to have abandoned her, so the next person to give her their full attention? she'll throw away every other relationship she has for them, the same way she was thrown away. the verbal abuse violante endured as a kid (and currently, because 19 is still a kid) influenced the kind of mother she is and she doesn't even realize until it's almost too late that she's done to jacopo what the adder did to her! and I've already talked about the physical abuse from farid's birth family influencing how he forms severely anxious relationships.

and none of these are just character padding! all of these characters influence the plot so heavily by becoming traumatized and by working through it and I don't have any idea how she pulled it off

#okay maybe elinor didnt very much #im trying to be nice to her bc i dont like her at all lmao #this is not written half as well as i want it to be but ive been dwelling on it for two weeks and i cant think of how else to say it so #meggie's like the only significant kid who does not ever once think shes worthless #mo raised a mean child but he did not raise one with low self esteem lol good for her #i tried really hard not to lean into the daddy issues thing but terrible fathers is such a good theme #inkheart #says kenna #hey uhhhh how is it 2am #was gonna point out how lol jehan also doesnt have this prob but i remembered it's lowkey on my tcor wishlist for him #which #i should post my wishlist probably do yall have any interest in seeing that #i have Theories

109 notes · View notes

compacflt · 2 months

Note

question: how do you find your research/sources? yours and dancing disasters' icemav fics are so inside baseball i love it, but how do you go about doing research?

I just read a lot & google stuff I don't know & am curious about. not that hard to start learning. and in terms of reading I've been interested in military history & milfiction my whole life. mostly related to the US army, actually--im extremely new to naval history and naval literature; all of that interest was driven by top gun. I've also been fortunate enough to visit a lot of the places I write about--ive been to Pearl Harbor a couple times & San Diego MANY times, for instance, and I've toured a few aircraft carriers and military bases. I've also finally bitten the bullet and kinda shifted my career path towards aerospace, so I've been learning a lot just by working in the aerospace & defense sector/spending a lot of time with people who do.

that's obviously not to say that I am somehow Educated in all this stuff. im pretty open on this blog about me being young & naive & wrong much of the time about how the real world works. so, you know, a lot of shit I just Make Up according to my preconceived notions of the military & the world.

here is my recommended military/navy reading list, some fiction and some nonfiction.

someone also asked recently if I had read anything good in the last 6 months--yes!! three new additions to my reading list: a) Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk by Ben Fountain. So goddamn good. If you have to read only one novel about the Iraq War, make it this one. It's more about America than it is about Iraq. b) Redeployment by Phil Klay. This one is a collection of short stories about Marines in Iraq, written by a USMC vet, talk about inside baseball. Crazy amounts of jargon in here, basically a "to-google" list. won the national book award which idk if it deserved, but it's good. c) No true glory: A Frontline Account of the Battle of Fallujah by Bing West. currently reading this one, really well done so far, talks a lot about how fucked the US strategy was in Iraq with Fallujah serving as a metonymy/case study for the war itself.

again... this is all mostly close-quarters-combat (infantry) literature, I really am not that interested in the navy/Air Force that much outside of top gun lol

though I did recently remember that in early 2022, before I was into top gun, I read "Wingmen" by Ensan Case, which is actually a gay US naval aviator romance set in WWII published in 1979! it's really authentic and kind of sad, obviously, since it was a 1940s navy gay love story published in 1979. I don't actually think Wingmen influenced how I wrote wwgattai or how I think of TG/TGM but I just remembered that I read that book in February 2022 and going "oh my god they were wingmen" so maybe you might find that book interesting.

#dancingdisaster's 'men like us' Directly inspired wwgattai and is the only other icemav/TG fic Ive ever read so I owe them a lottt #that fic opened my third eye as to 'omg what if ice lived' & then 'omg what if maverick died & ice never told him he loved him'#leading to my fics #thanks for the ask! PLEASE read billy Lynns long halftime walk #if for no other reason than its the best book I've read in 2024 and im already 12 books deep into 2024 #its so well written...... should be on the shortlist for the best great American novel......#a scathing indictment of the American christian conservative.... mmm I eat it up good soup #top gun #military history #guys I just found out yesterday that my ex whom I haven't talked to in 2 years has been stalking my twitter &#has seen me gushing about my gay top gun fanfiction #well he shouldn't have stalked my twitter ... genuinely insane behavior this is why I ended things #love men

29 notes · View notes

subskz · 10 months

Note

i need you to know that i was scrolling through your blog and the ad that popped up was a picture of a foot and it made me giggle.

anyways, now i’m thinking about teasing hanji by pressing on his crotch with my foot. seeing him squirm and hold back from whining, constantly bringing him to the edge and stopping before he can finish. making him a teary eyed mess before even entertaining the thought of letting him get off 🥰 -🐾

a FOOT? 😭 tumblr has made a fool out of me for the last time…but at least we can say it sparked this delicious thought in you hehe

i love this kind of idea for hannie bc it works so well w how shamelessly he vies for attention sometimes…if you get him worked up enough he’d be so willing to do anything, even things he knows will embarrass him out of his mind, just for a chance to be rewarded. just denying him once or twice already has him so desperate for you and not at all above begging…the fact that he looks so irresistible gazing up w big watery doe eyes probably helps his case too <3 but it’s still much more fun to keep testing his limits and watching the way his patience crumbles to the point where he’s grinding up against your foot like a needy puppy or clinging on to you with a whine when you pull away 😽

#ask #🐾 anon #💌 hannie #funnily enough the only foot related thing ive ever written was for hanji too…#we all just take one look at him n think yeah kneeling on the floor being toyed with like that is exactly where he belongs 🥰

55 notes · View notes

wormstar · 2 years

Text

i dont know if anyone cares about flametail but also the reason i find him interesting is because hes like. such a horrifying product of starclan's meddling in my minds eye. like the guy literally dies young and when jayfeather tries to save him rock appears out of NOWHERE solely to refute him and basically forces flametail to sacrifice himself for the fate of the three prophecy. and even after he dies he's not done involuntarily serving the prophecy. hes not only caught up as a witness to the dark forest and its trainees (where he nearly dies AGAIN) but hes literally sought out as a reason to unify starclan for something, overall, completely unrelated to him. i think him being characterised as somewhat naive and simple in his pov chapters is kind of what lends to the tragedy of him being plucked away into death to serve a cosmic plot that couldve functioned without him while hes barely lived his life. not to mention he was already devoted to starclan as a healer but all they repay him with is. all that

#is it written well. NAHHHH the last hope basically has him reconcile with jayfeather and go yippee when starclan is united #and though ive seen people complain about his attitude TBH i think it wouldve strengthened his characterisation if he was indeed bitter for #the rest of time. hes at his best that way #also to emphasise. rock literally appears to jayfeather to tell him to let a guy DIE. its like #the only time hes ever mentioned appearing outside of tunnels or like. when jayfeathers alone. fucking insane implication

321 notes · View notes

bogkeep · 6 months

Text

you know what. off-handedly calling myself unicornkin again felt good actually. i haven't really thought of myself that way in a couple years, i think it got a little lost in a bunch of stuff that happened - but after everything, it still rings true.

i know i don't need to explain or justify how i feel but i do want to talk about it. i feel like the impression it gives off is ~*Magical Creature Traipsing Through The Fairytale Woods*~ which is a great vibe, but not what lies at the heart of my identity. what it is for me is that pretty much all the things that feel Wrong with me can so well be explained with 'unicorn software on human hardware'.

there are a lot of things i don't struggle as much with anymore. i no longer feel this deep aching disconnect to the world around me, now that i've found more of a footing. i had to find my way out of the unsustainable brain labyrinth that was the OCD purity complex which made even one of my teachers think i was catholic (i was raised atheist in a predominantly atheist culture.) (it's still there, but i recognise it for what it is. i worry for others who find themelf trapped in it. it's not a pleasant place.)

but there's still so much - just the translation error of sensory input, making my surroundings chafe against my skin. how i feel about gender, how being aroace sits in me. how thoughts are sorted inside my head. it just feels right.

hanging out by a pond deep in the woods sounds great though

#i only recently saw a definition of OCD that included sensations as a form of compulsion/obsession WHICH MAKES A LOT OF SENSE #but i dont think ive ever seen it written out that way before #it may explain some stuff i've been trying to figure out for many many years #because it's not tics and it doesn't feel like stimming but it's repetitive and tiring

34 notes · View notes

froggymarsh · 17 days

Text

what if i was emotionally vulnerable through fanfiction using one of the guys who lives in my brain haha jk. unless

(idk how to tag this. plural confusion/questioning i guess? conflicting sfw and nsfw headspaces? I FORGOT TO MENTION SUICIDE IDEATION IM SO SORRY, it’s just one line near the end but it jumps out at u surprise, sorry. there is nothing graphic and also swearing)

Joel is having an accident before he even touches down.

His shoes scuff on the pavement- he almost trips but doesn’t, (skillful flying, says prideful joel. complete and absolute luck, retorts editor joel- shut up, editor joel), and he rushes off on unsteady legs.

He isn’t going to make it, he knows, but he holds himself anyway and hurries up the street. Each pounding step jostles his bladder more.

“Stop,” he pants, “stop, no, no no no no-”

He ducks into a side alley as the stream properly starts. He soaks through his underwear, his pants, knees pressed together, elytra crushed between his back and the wall as he slumps against it. He can feel it rushing out of him as he holds himself, warm and wet and awful, awful, awful. His eyes clench shut as he makes a mess, as if puddles beneath him, soaking shoes, socks, pants-

He didn’t mean to do that.

(Would it have felt better if he did?)

“Stop,” he says aloud, voice bouncing up the walls of the alleyway. He’s uncomfortably wet, his pants squishing as he shifts, knees pressed together. He opens his eyes but stares upwards at the curved roofs of his city, wondering if the accident will go away if he ignores it.

(That’s never the case, though, is it? You’ll have to live with your mistakes, forever, no matter how childish or stupid or painful they may be- shut up, editor Joel.)

With tears in his eyes and one flick of his hand, he opens chats, spots a few other online hermits. He’s breathing heavier than he’d ever admit, and typing before he can consider what he’s doing.

<Smallishbeans> hgekelp plkdeasee

<Grian> yeah buddy?

<Iskall85> whats wrong yoel?

<Etho> you at your city?

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

He puts a palm on six-year-old Joel’s forehead and shoves him away from the front- (it’s fine the kid isn’t real- you hurt me, that hurt! meanie!- he isn’t real-)

<Smallishbeans> skory

<Smallishbeans> sorry

<Smallishbeans> disregard that

<Smallishbeans> im fine

<Etho> youre at your city right?

<Smallishbeans> no

<Smallishbeans> im okay

He closes chat. He’s shaking. He’s wet. He’s uncomfortable. Six-year-old Joel pouts at him and opens chat again.

<Etho> if you say so

Joel swallows a whine. He isn’t six. He isn’t six. He is thirty years old. He is not six-

He freezes. Chat closes in a blip. Etho’s landed on the street beside him, about to begin a search, (he doesn’t know whether to be grateful or to cry), but they lock eyes instead.

Etho’s eyes flick down. Joel chokes out a sob. Wishes he didn’t. Wishes he wasn’t real.

Etho pads closer. Quiet as always. He crouches when Joel squirms and looks away. Doesn’t say anything until Joel meets his eyes again.

“Bun?” Etho questions, voice gentle, words slow. Joel hates that Jimmy called him that in front of the hermits- now they can make him small using one word and he hates it. “You okay?”

Part of him seizes the nickname, holding on tight, a buoy in a storming ocean. Another wave of tears cascades down his face. He wants to wipe them away. He can’t. It’s gross. He’s gross. (He hates the part of himself that wants to make out with Etho right now.)

“Don’t call me that,” he mutters, (pleads. gods, Etho, make it okay, call him bun again, please). “I’m okay.”

Etho nods. Adjusts his mask. “Do you want me to help?”

I want you to leave, screams his head. I want you to make it better, whines six-year-old joel. What would you think of me, if you had seen that? What would you have don-?

Joel shrugs.

“I can go.”

“Don’t go.”

“Okay,” he says. “Want to clean up?”

He takes in a long, stammering breath.

“Yeah? Yeah. Please.”

“Touch okay?”

“No.”

Etho nods, easily enough. He turns to lead the way, back to Joel’s house, his room, his clean clothes-

Joel takes a deep, deep breath. Then pushes himself off the wall and trails behind Etho with tears in his eyes and shame hanging over his every move.

He’s squishing. He’s wet. He’s awful, awful, awful. He said no to touch, but he reaches out anyway, desperate for (something, anything)-

His fingers grip the back of Etho’s vest. Etho doesn’t turn back, just offers his hand, squeezes once when Joel takes it. Doesn’t say anything. (Says a million things, maybe. Joel doesn’t know what he wants to hear right now.)

They make it inside, upstairs. To closets to pick new clothes (wolf pajamas, thanks six-year-old Joel), to the bath to check temperatures. Etho doesn’t talk, neither does Joel. He holds his hand the entire time.

Etho turns to him, suddenly pausing, a hint of red peeking out over the mask on his face. He looks from Joel’s face, down to his pants, then back up again. To the running water of the bath. Out the window. He closes the curtains. Looks back to Joel, down and up again.

“Can I do it?” Joel mumbles.

“Of course,” Etho answers. Neither let go.

Joel shrinks. “Don’t want you to see.”

He squeezes his hand. “I’ll wait outside.”

He shrinks further. “Didn’t want you to see.”

A pause. Etho’s thumb glides over his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Joel sniffles.

“Want you to stay.”

“I’ll be outside,” he says, thumb gliding, rubbing, what have you. “Close enough?”

A pause. Joel sniffles.

“Close enough.”

Etho squeezes again before letting go.

Joel stands alone (alone? is he ever alone? he’s always alone) in the bathroom for longer than he’d ever admit. It’s a struggle to get his pants off, embarrassment, shame, relief, (excitement? fuck off) well up in overwhelming amounts.

The bath is as long as he can stand it. His pajamas are soft. He wonders if he should put a diaper on. All he has are boxers. (He wishes he had diapers. He wishes he would die.)

He steps around his wet things left on the floor. The pajamas are childish, too big- the most comfortable thing he owns. He avoids the mirror, covering his face with a towel and pretends he’s drying his hair.

He finds Etho in his living room, leafing through an obnoxiously bright magazine that he surely doesn’t understand a word of.

He spots Joel, eyes crinkling warmly as he sets the magazine aside and opens his arms in invitation.

Six-year-old Joel perks up, phantom tail wagging. They hang up their towel and rush into his arms, curling up tight.

Thirty year old Joel lays his head on Etho’s shoulder and wonders why the fuck he just did that.

“Hey bun,” Etho tries again, tone as gentle as his hold. “You okay?”

“Don’t call me that,” Joel mumbles. Six-year-old Joel whines in protest.

“Sorry.” it’s genuine. Joel wants to explode. “Is touching too much?”

“Yes,” Joel answers, clinging tighter.

Etho keeps a tentative hold on him, his tone light but confused, “I’m getting mixed signals here, Joel.”

“Sorry.” he presses closer, hiding his face. (Little Joel is going to make them cry again. He can’t tell if it’s happy or sad.) “Mm sorry I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not,” he answers, holds tighter, “I’ve got you.”

#froggy drabbles #diap stuff #me when this is exactly like every fic ive ever written but also none of them and ive never written this before #haha. anyways.#not where i wanted that to end? only half touches on what i wanted it to?#this has been writing with froggy. might redo this later

9 notes · View notes

perenlop · 9 months

Text

Gengar strikes me as someone who knows he’s a piece of shit and is trying to embrace that. Emphasis on trying. Obviously there’s the fact that he called his group “Team Meanies” and bragged at people’s doorsteps that he was evil and gonna take over the world and stuff. He terrorizes Pokemon into joining his team and doesn’t even seem to respect his own teammates. The entire fugitive arc is him trying to scapegoat the hero for his crimes.

But two things stick out to me.

The first is that Gengar seems to think that being selfish and cruel is human nature.

In the dream eater sequence, Gengar talks about exposing hero and “showing what they’re like inside” purely on the grounds of them being human. I think that’s pretty self explanatory. He thinks that all humans are bad people. He’s speaking from experience, because if HE’S bad then surely all humans are, right?

The second is that Gengar… honestly comes across as self loathing to me, even if he tries to own how shitty he is. Just look at his dialogue during the crowd scene.

This dialogue combined with this expression come across as cracks of guilt to me. He knows what he did and he knows exactly what he’s doing now. And despite everything, I think he hates that. He hates what he did to Gardevoir. He knows it was horrible of him to abandon her after sacrificing herself for him. And he hates that. But he can’t admit it.

I think Gengar trying to take pride in his cruelty is deflection and denial. He couldn’t help what he did to Ninetales and Gardevoir, it was inevitable! He’s human, and all humans are selfish. He can’t change or control that. All he can do is double down over and over while trying (and failing) to escape the consequences. He can’t fathom the idea that a human can be a good person, so he’s not even gonna try to change.

And he hates hero because they are the antithesis to that statement. They want and try to do good wherever they can, and Gengar can’t believe that after learning that they’re human. He projects onto them, insisting that they have to be a bad person, because they’re human. Just like him. He can’t be good. They shouldn’t be good. Because if being good comes so easily to them, then what does that say about him?

And seeing Gardevoir in hero’s dreams talking about how much she cared for him, with sympathy leaking from hero’s heart, shatters that illusion he shrouded himself in.

#also we all make fun of his team name but even that strikes me as like… him being childish deep down #tbh ive never fully played through his story in the post game i just saw it on youtube years ago #so. my thoughts here might change #gengar is one of those characters that i honestly never cared much for growing up but i appreciate him more every time i replay the game #cause i see more and more angles of his character that i can work with. i dont think i ever gave him enough credit tbh djdjdjf #hes a well written character and while i definitely think that the other 3 villains are stronger that hes still pretty damn good #hes also the only other npc whos a former human which is insane to me tbh #echoed voice #pmd posting

25 notes · View notes