#like. even if i tried to block it out id be thinking the whole time 'its not real. theres a person in that suit who gets paid to do this' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seokjinsonlyone · 1 year

Text

this how i think bts would be if you were pregnant

namjoon:

he’s kind of clumsy and brutish by nature so he would try his absolute hardest to be quiet gentle and out of the way when it comes to you

reads to your baby every night once their hearing develops; goes through tons of children’s books and buys the ones that have all the messages and lessons he wants his child to learn so you now have a very large carefully curated library in the nursery

your pregnancy becomes his new j hope like he’s gonna mention it at every given opportunity whether it’s related to the topic at hand or not

comes back with a new baby item every time you send him to the store; you have to draw the line once he starts buying jars of baby food just bc they’re cute and little

not too keen on going into the whole birthing thing blind so he persuades you into taking lamaze classes with him

seokjin:

has one of them pregnancy apps downloaded and updates you each week on which fruit your baby is the size of

thinks it’s unfair how you get unlimited time with your baby and demands he get one on one time with them; makes you put on headphones and play music so he can spend time and talk with them without you intruding

puts himself in charge of your diet; looks up different ingredients that are supposed to be good for you and the baby and makes recipes centered around that; feels guilty bc every once in a while he cooks something that baby decides they do NOT like at ALL and it makes you sick

once your baby starts kicking he lets them make final decisions on things y’all can’t or don’t feel like deciding on; what shirt should he wear today? baby chooses. can’t choose a restaurant for dinner? baby chooses. accent color for the nursery? baby chooses.

tbh his favorite thing about you being pregnant is that when y’all go out he gets to park in the spaces that be up front for expecting mothers

yoongi:

when you get to be too much for him he always threatens that he’s gonna go to the store to “get milk”

all you’d have to do is give him a theme and a color scheme for the nursery and he’d take care of the rest; would give your baby the childhood room of your dreams

always 10 steps ahead in planning; like you’re trying to figure out if it’s acceptable go out with your jeans unbuttoned bc they is not fastening no matter how hard you try and he’s trying to figure out if y’all should move bc he likes the school that’s zoned for the neighborhood 5 blocks away

tries to act all nonchalant but every time he talks about you and your baby his hand ends up clutching his chest and he has this undeniably soft fond smile etched across his face

daily foot and back massages and belly rub downs with stretch mark cream

hoseok:

most likely to get on your nerves; like most of time he is rainbows and sunshine and the absolute light of your life; but he gon catch you on the wrong day, a day when you’re already in a bad mood and your back hurts and your feet are swollen and he’s gon be hopping around making sound effects and you’re gonna absolutely lose it; he’ll try not to take it personally but you’re gonna have to give him quite a few kisses and cuddles to make up for your raging

would be even more terrified than you if you ever fell; like after the shock's worn off and you're calm again he's definitely gonna make you go to the hospital just to make sure everything's okay even if you told him you felt fine

carries the sonogram in his wallet front and center in the space where his ID should be for easy access to show any and everyone who asks about how you’re doing

buys all kinds of designer things for your baby; you have to beg him to stop spending thousands of dollars on clothes and shoes that are only gonna fit for a month and a half at best

has more of a nesting phase than you i think; like nursery is fully completed, go bag is ready, baby’s clothes are washed and organized, all the little gadgets, diaper genies, bottle warmers, etc are set up and placement tested for maximum efficiency by month 6

jimin:

the type to be uncomfortable with you doing anything; like if it was up to him you’d be in bed the entire time; you have to remind him that you’re pregnant not dead but you take it easy and let him help you as much as possible to ease his nerves

thinks it’s cute when you start needing help to stand up; sometimes he’ll just sit back giggling and watch for a while as you try to get up on your own before stepping in and helping you; videos the experience nd shows it to his friends

goes to every one of your doctor’s appointment with a notebook full of questions about your’s and the baby’s health and writes all the answers down very meticulously

spends like 3 hours building the crib for the nursery; there’s so much grunting going on that you’re concerned HE might be going into labor; gets inside the crib after he’s finally finished building it to prove to you how sturdy it is; ends up taking a nap inside of it bc he didn’t realize how laborious it was gonna he

completely empathetic to your experience so he’s up when you’re up no matter how late it is; will literally get up at 4am to get you a bottle of water and make you a snack and rubs your shoulders and back until you can fall asleep again

taehyung:

his hand stays on your belly the whole 9 months; like you’ll be 6 weeks looking completely regular trying to keep it a Secret until you make it out your first trimester but everyone is suspicious bc taehyung will just come up and start rubbing your tummy whenever he sees you

tries on your nursing bra and would be walking around the house flipping the cover off showing you his nipples at odd times

starts picking out names immediately; at the end of the day he’s always gonna yield to you bc he wants you to be happy but he really really wants to name his child

plays so much classical music bc he heard it makes the baby smarter that you start to feel like you live in the 18th century

knows he isn’t the best at cooking but wants to be better for his baby so he spends like 2 weeks perfecting his baby formula bottle making method

jungkook:

doesn’t understand how anyone could have the type of cravings you have but his curiosity is too strong and he tries each of one them; finds the peanut butter covered pickles absolutely disgusting but rocks with the dessert pasta

starts calling you ms penguin bc of the way you waddle walk when your belly gets too big

lactation kink

would be deep diving on the internet researching various things about pregnancy and then spend the next 4 months trying to convince you to do a water birth bc he thinks it would be “cool”

sits bam down and has a conversation with him about how he’s gonna have a baby brother or sister and what’s gonna be expected of him when the time comes; it’s definitely more of a pep talk for him than the dog

a/n: me posting this is just as much of a surprise to me as it is to you anyway 🫣 thoughts comments concerns are welcome

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts headcanons #bts x reader #kim namjoon fic #namjoon x y/n #seokjin fic #jin x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #hoseok x reader #jhope fanfic #jimin fanfic #park jimin x you #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic

1K notes · View notes

quiteliterallyilliterate · 3 months

Note

I legit just see you randomly on my feed and your writing was really good and I thought why not? Since requests are open, may I request for yandere skyward sword link with goddess reader? Reader can either replace Zelda herself or is a whole other goddess that doesnt even belong or own Hyrule. Id love to see what else you have in store here!

Order up!

Sorry it’s been a while! I’ve been dealing with a lot these past two weeks but hopefully life will improve (?) Love this concept and there’s a mention of @monpalace’s idea with Skyloftians using shed loftwing feathers to propose. Not proofread, I am sorry, this took wayyyy too. Much like Link, i am eepy. That’s about all!

Hope you enjoy!~

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

There was little refuge for Link on the surface, that much he knew. That much the world made incredibly apparent. Aside from what little lands like that of the kikwi or the ancient temple, there was little non-hostile life. The sun was fading from the sky, Hylia’s light fading from the surface land, letting monsters run rampant across the untamed earth. Not a particularly pleasant situation given the stab wound he’d nursed, limping through the forest as he tried to find a way home. With no statues in sight, he resigned himself to his fate —alone within an unkind world. Not that it’s a first that he’s felt such a manner, everyone knew everyone in Skyloft, his business was never truly his. And with Groose and his goons taunting him for his every breath, there wasn’t much to say for company. He could be surrounded by people, and yet he was —to some level— still alone. That was, aside from Zelda, missing among this realm. There was some small, nagging part of him that wish he needn’t search for her. Sure, he valued her companionship, and yet… it’s been odd lately. Originally he kept from the sky to be with her once more. But now knowing he was a piece in a prophecy —one she knew, no less— he couldn’t help but question the authenticity of their friendship. He feels wrong about it to question. The hylian people serve Hylia, he should be grateful that he’s been sent on a mission she foretold. He should be so many things. It just seems added onto the pile of things he should be. More outgoing, Zelda would say after he’d share his difficulty with speaking to his peers. Less pathetic, Groose and his lackeys would sneer. Dead, He’d often think, looking at the bags under his eyes and tousled hair. So it seemed irrelevant that Hylia wished he’d be heroic. The small decaying temple looked surprisingly stable from the inside. Vines and mosses grew into the cracks within the marble, nature filling in where people could no longer support. The door was easily blocked and the main area was large enough to safely light a fire without smoking himself out. Above a plinth stood a statue, sharp imposing eyes glaring at whomever entered with judgement. Their face was alight with the golds of the fire, setting in the allure within his mind. Looking down past stone ceremonial robes were offerings, placed at their feet, still fresh despite the centuries since any people lived down here. A deity, he noticed a little too late. Perhaps it was sacreligious of him to stay here, the Hero of Hylia taking refuge in a different god’s home. But perhaps that kingdom has since crumbled, their blades too rusted to do him any harm. The blood seeping through his tunic was the least of his concerns as sleep pulled him in familiar as ever.

Link liked to sleep. It was safe and warm, something quite the contrast to the life he’d led. He wished many times both before his journey and since its onset that he could stay asleep forever. It’d be a blessing, to exist in such a state of peaceful serenity outside of a world defined by its wars. And yet, morning after morning, he’d awake to soft sunlight or be shoved out of his bed. Hylia did not wait on him. So waking up to fingers carding softly through his hair as a lullaby —one his memories could just barely grasp at— was a sharp contrast. He felt no pain in his stomach nor the jolt of adrenaline he was used to. Turning around sleepily, he saw you, the very deity he seeked refuge under. He scrambled to apologize, your sharp eyes looking down upon him as he lay strewn across your body.

“I’m- Oh- I-“ He could not, for whatever reason, speak. Much a common theme in his life that whenever he needed his words, they’d fly away faster than a loftwing. Strong arms tightened around him, shushes and soothes whispered to his pointed ears.

“Be at ease. Your goddess cannot find you here” The fingers resumed carding through his hair, twirling the uneven cuts. “You are safe, little hero” Your words bled with a care and endearment he had not been given in so long. His mind latched to you, to your care and your soft treatment of him. He let himself rest limply, telling himself that it would pass soon. Nothing ever stays this good for this long. And yet, there were no monsters to kick in the door or someone waiting on him. There was just you and him. And no other God watching. “She’s put you through so much.” Your statement hangs in the air as Link can’t find the words that dignify a response. “To wander in here bleeding as badly as you were.” His eyes widen and he does his best to pat his tunic, feeling for the blood. And yet there was none. Aside from the rip in the forest fabric, there was no signs of him ever being injured.

“What?” His brows furrowed and he found himself looking up to you. Your skin held an inhuman glint, a glow to it that needed no sun nor fire to illuminate. Your hunter’s eyes had no iris, a scalara of pure white looking back at him. Your lips here pulled to something of a mischievous smirk as you looked upon him.

“I fixed you.” Your tone was a little uncanny, voice unused to conversing. “I used to do it frequently for the before people” He felt his eyes widen marginally. He’d never heard of the ‘before people’ only if what came after them. He knew naught of their societies, nor their deities. You giggled at his curiosity, pressing lightly on his shoulders so he’d lay back down. “It’s been so long since i’ve had such lovely visitors” Your voice was a far off cry in his mind as he buried his face in the nape of your neck. There was no rushing of blood to lull his own rushing mind, and yet you soothed him all the same. “Rest now, little Hero. I will watch the world in your stead.

There were many times afterwards that he visited you. He’d put a beacon near the clearing where your quiet temple sat. Gone was the comfort of absence that came with sleep, that nullifying expanse of nothingness. Instead, he’d seek out you, the glow of your grace soothing the rage he now brought upon the world. At your Altar he’d leave gifts, anything you’d mentioned in passing or anything he knew must’ve been good. You’d offhandedly speak of how much you missed the ancient cistern, and he’d bring you its water. He’d gather the fruit of the Faron woods, making into pies and jam and alcohol for you to feed off of. It wasn’t often, but he’d occasionally get you blood or meat. Not common, he didn’t want to raise concerns, but he knew the spirits would strengthen you. You may have only had a one man clergy, but he was loyal to a fault. He cleared the surface of monsters so you could roam freely, basking in the moonlight as your fingers brushed the grass. His favorite gift to you came in the form of a plume of crimson feathers. You were quite oblivious to the meaning behind the exchange, instead cooing over the bright colors and imagining the majesty of the bird it came from. But he knew that maybe then the other half of his spirit —as the people said— would mingle with your own to care for you as much as you did him. Bound to you perhaps by fate and now with the matrimony of his gift to you, no longer would you lay forgotten to the world. He’d build an empire in your honor if it would be your wish. He’d kill the goddess who subdued you if it were your ruling. Afterall, he was prophesied to kill a deity.

#yandere link x reader #link x reader #yan!link #yan!sky #yan!sky x reader #yan!link x reader #deity!reader #zelda skyward sword

111 notes · View notes

crybaby-bkg · 1 year

Text

a slight continuation of this

no caller ID pops on your screen, pulling your attention away from your previous task at hand: not fucking up your eyeliner. you typically wouldn’t care if it was a little uneven, but you’re going on a date tonight, for the first time in so long, and you want everything to go as smoothly as possible.

which is why you groan when you end the call, and that same no caller ID pops right back up seconds later. you know who it is—who else would it be? you figured he’s already seen your story of being excited for going on your first date in a while, on the only app you hadn’t blocked him on. petty? perhaps, but it’s on him to be keeping up with you despite you cursing him out for wasting your time and then blocking him right after.

you watch it ring though, contemplating for a while longer than you should. you blocked him for a reason. no need to entertain his same shit that he always spews to you when he realizes that he might be losing you once more?

….but it doesn’t hurt to hear the hero beg for you.

“What do you want, Bakugou?” You sigh irritably as you finally answer his call, putting him on speaker as you go back to even out your eyeliner. You hear him huff on the other side of the phone at the use of his surname, but he doesn’t say anything about it, instead, quickly telling you what he’s been bothering you for.

“Who’s the fuckin’ loser that’s gonna drool over how good your tits look in that stupid green dress you love so much?” Bakugou grunts, and you instantly feel your face heating at his crude words. You glance over with a frown at that same green dress that makes your tits look good, where it hangs on your closet.

“None of your damn business, Bakugou.” You snap at him, wondering if it’s too late to find something else to wear. “Not like you ever took me out in my stupid green dress.” Your voice holds a level of bitterness that only he can bring out of you, and you hear his sigh through the speakers.

“I told you this before, I’m always—”

“Busy.” You cut him off, voice suddenly thick as you think back on the countless rejections he’s splattered at your feet every time you tried to further your relationship with him. “You reminded me of how busy you’ve been since you first started this whole situationship.”

“Situation—? Huh? We were dating!” Bakugou protests with a huff, and you can hear how he paces the floor quickly. You glare at your phone, setting down your liner to instead pick of your (his) favorite lipgloss.

“You’d have to ask me out to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to court me to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to make time for me and take me out on dates and not hide me to fucking date me, Bakugou.” You spit at him, venom dripping off of your lips in waves. You don’t know why you answered, why you even entertained him. You shake your head with a huff when the line goes quiet, eyebrows quirking up when your date sends you a text to make sure you’re still on for tonight.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou mutters pathetically, his voice suddenly soft. You hesitate, for some reason, when it comes to texting your date back. Why do you always hesitate when Bakugou is around?

“Let me make it up to you, court you, and shit. I can take you to one of my favorite places, you can wear that pretty green dress and that gloss you know I love.” His voice is pleading, thickening and sweet and suffocating. You shouldn’t respond, should reply back a yes to your date.

“Please? You know how much you mean to me.” Bakugou mumbles, and you can hear the earnestness in his voice. Why haven’t you said yes to your date yet?

“I’ll do better this time. Just one more chance, sweetheart.” Bakugou’s voice is so soft, you’ve never heard him this vulnerable before. You sigh with a shake of your head, slumping back into your seat in defeat.

…

Sorry, I can’t make it tonight. Something came up. Maybe we can reschedule for another time?

#sorry this is kinda angsty lol #but I saw this tt earlier where this girl was so giddy bc ‘no caller id’ called LOL #and it just reminded me of the first part to this #at first he’s all ‘no we can’t date bc of xyz bullshit reason’#but the moment you’re like ‘I’m done w this toxic back n forth we’re not even a couple’#he’s like WE WERE TOGETHER THE WHOLE TIME!!!!!#delusion is what I like to call it #also he definitely takes you out to a place that’s very secluded and exclusive #to shut you up for the time being #the whole ‘at least I took you out!’ shtick #I hate him actually #but the toxic hate sex goes crazy ☝🏻#okay gn I’m sleepy and I felt so shitty today #or yesterday #so I’m hoping today will be better #maybe I’ll mediate before I start on my work #I wanna go on a walk sometime this week bc it’s gonna be great weather but my anxiety keeps telling me #that one of the stray cats or foxes is gonna attack me AKSJDKDJDJD #omg does anyone remember me talking about that calico kitty in my backyard at one point???#I haven’t seen her since and I hope she’s okay :( we miss her :(#—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬

515 notes · View notes

kennediffed · 8 months

Text

No Spoken Word, No Small Command

pairing: ID! Leon S Kennedy x reader

description: One little set of words was enough to change the mind of your older coworker

content: afab reader, older male/younger woman, suggestive content, pet names (princess, babygirl, doll), teasing, Leon calls himself an old fart like one time, not proofread at all with the exception of correcting spelling mistakes

word count: 698

partially inspired by this leon c.ai bot (also this song, but mostly due to the title)

hiii! im back, i kinda took an extended break due to burnout but i should be back to writing now!

AO3 Version!

Masterlist

"I'm sorry, run that by me again?" the older male sitting across from you nearly choked on his drink as you made your request known to him.

You had just made the ballsiest move in your life by asking your older coworker Leon out on a date. You couldnt help but shift your weight from one foot to the other as you nervously stood there. You cleared your throat before repeating yourself. "I…. I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime?"

He leaned back in his chair before looking at you with those beautiful blue eyes of his. "Babygirl, I think Im a little too old for you" Leon chuckled before taking another sip.

You sighed, you knew that he would answer like that. Considering there was a noticeable age gap between the two of you, you were foolish to think that he would answer any other way other than bringing up the differences in your ages. Not to mention relationships with considerable age gaps are often looked down upon, and theres no doubt your peers at the DSO would have the same opinion if they found out.

"Besides... even though I want you to myself... it wouldnt be fair to anyone else, doll. I bet you got a lot of boys lining up around the block that'll fight for the chance to be with you"

You drummed your fingers against the wooden desk in front of you as you tried to think of a response.

"Well, with all due respect sir, those boys dont know how to treat a lady..." you began, exhaling. "Besides, Mr. Kennedy... we're both adults here, I fail to see what the issue is."

Leon chuckled again, leaning back in his desk chair.

"While you may be right about that, you still got your whole life ahead of you too, princess..." his voice was playful in tone as he took another sip. "you shouldn't waste it on an old fart like myself"

You stepped closer to his desk, leaning over it slightly. "But what if i want to spend it on you?" you asked, feigning innocence. You walked around the desk until you were on the same side that he was on before sitting on the desk and crossing your legs. "Besides, you're not *that* old"

He looked up at you, a smirk threatening to break out on his face. "Dangerous game you're playing here (y/n)." It truly was a dangerous game, and he was losing it.

You tilted his head up. "Come on Leon..." you cooed, "one chance?"

Something inside him snapped right then and there cause he chuckled and looked down at his lap right there and then. "You're tempting me sweet thing" he mumbled, his hands gripping gently onto your waist.

You couldnt help but giggle at his eagerness.

"I thought you were concerned about your job?" you softly spoke once more "why the sudden change of heart, Leon?"

"I can't say no to a pretty thing like yourself." He mumbled, his nose pressed up against your neck. "You dont have any plans for later today, do you?"

You shook your head no. "Unless you count napping at home as plans for later, no... why do you ask?" you hummed.

He chuckled before looking back up at you. "Was wondering if you wanted to go out after you get off your shift... get to know each other a little better..." his tone was laced with slight hunger and desire. He then leaned up into your ear and whispered. "I'll be making sure you can't walk straight when you clock in tomorrow too"

You giggled in response. "how scandalous, i look forward to it" you teased, before looking down into his eyes.

"I get off at 5... see you then?" you softly spoke.

"You got it sweetheart" he let go of your waist and you started making your way to the door. "Just... dont think about me too much... dont wanna spoil the surprises I have in store."

You gave him a smirk before speaking again. "No promises" you smugly said before leaving the room and going back to work. You couldnt wait until 5 pm.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #writing #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil infinite darkness #infinite darkness #resident evil leon

257 notes · View notes

allsadnshit · 4 months

Text

I had a terrible nightmare last night that my bosses were my old art teachers in school and when I realized that I knew it was going to be unfair to have teachers so biased against me and all I wanted to do was draw and none of the other students would stick up for me or believe me that I was being treated badly in fact they were mocking my frustration and saying how easy the class was so I went to the supervisor to tell them I just needed to be excused from that class and could take any other one in its place and she started pulling receipts saying id done this too many times before and it was a boy who cried wolf situation that had absolutely no substance anymore and I was clearly the one making the problems and wouldn't be believed by anyone given my history of always getting bad blood with people

I kept begging everyone to see that I wasn't asking for anyone else's punishment and I wasn't trying to get people to be angry about what I was angry about I just wanted to be able to leave a situation that is unhealthy for me but they kept laughing in my face and saying I had no where to go

I woke up feeling so so sick. Everything with my job in real life feels it's escalated even though I've tried to handle things as well as I could and went to therapy before making any decisions to make sure what I wanted to do was aligned with sincerity and myself and when I tried to call my co workers to tell them i was demoted and to not keep working on the specialty drink ideas I had given the shop before finding out I wouldn't be paid on them they had me on speakerphone and my boss heard me saying I was demoted and they quickly hung up to avoid conflict and when I called them back I told them sorry yeah it's awkward but it's not a secret and I am not hiding something this is just actually the situation and that hanging up and bolting probably looks more suspicious than just telling them.

Then last night after I told my bosses I want my Sunday shift covered (cause I need more time to think about things and how I want to handle them and going in and working with them right now is not okay for me) the husband responded in a separate text which was weird and just said sure but that we should all talk if I need to do things don't fester if I have something I need to say. And I do, and I will but I need time to because half the problem is that they sprung the whole conversation and demotion on me without any warning like didn't even tell me we would be talking about it that day so I was so unprepared and it was really unfair to me. I muted the business and the other bosses instagrams i follow from seeing my story cause I want some privacy from them whether I'm having good days or bad days I just don't want them having access to me right now with everything going on and so they started lurking on my story from a secret account I didn't know the husband even had and I only caught it because he watched a story of mine for the first time and so quickly after I posted it that his name wasn't just lost in the views and I saw it. It was so off putting and like clearly they've never done that before so it wasn't normal and felt so invasive since they clearly realized I had blocked their other accounts from my story...

I'm going to probably have to be unemployed for MONTHS when I quit and I'm not trying to spite anyone I am trying to have some self respect and uphold the boundaries I have with myself about what treatment I will allow and what energy I'm willing to give to businesses that profit off it but don't appreciate it.

I've never ever ever quit something like this before but I know it just won't sit right with me to stay just for the sake of the money and peace it's just going to become worse and I need to walk away but I feel like none of my peers are gonna have my back.

25 notes · View notes

leftatlondon · 1 year

Text

going on lunch at my work, taking a tupperware & a can out of the work fridge, microwaving the contents of the tupperware (separately from the tupperware itself because even if it says it’s “microwave safe” on the bottom, i don’t trust it), & cracking open the can as I wait, only to find out I accidentally brought the Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers again instead of the can of Liquid Death I’ve been trying to bring to work for the past week. Have I been cursed? Is this normal? I got what I thought was Liquid Death out of my home fridge this morning… but if I’m holding the Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers right now… does that mean I’ve just been storing these boxers in my fridge somehow? Either way, i just knew that I wasn’t going to let these boxers go to waste. Keep in mind, dear reader, I have been opening these cans of Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers in this office break room every day this week, in an attempt to see if the ONE can of liquid death that I bought for the first time (that I assume is still in my home fridge) is worth the hype. I mean, it can’t be worth the hype, right? It’s canned water. It must taste a little aluminum-y. & clearly some outward force is trying to keep me from drinking Liquid Death. Perhaps as a precautionary measure, so I don’t have to drink a whole cans worth of gross water? Because this is like, the third time this week I’ve accidentally opened a can of Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers. Something’s up.

I know I must investigate, but I don’t want to just waste my Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers. They just got out of the work fridge, so they’re ice cold, which admittedly feels nice on my genitals. Not in a way that’s like, sexual, I just think a little pube coolin’ is good for a bitch. I threw them away the first day it happened. But yesterday, I tried them on (under my work clothes, of course), & it felt… peaceful. Dear reader, It’s been a rather dark year for me, & so I take the little comforts when I can. Yesterdays little comfort was those ice cold Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers. Eventually, I put on my ice cold Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers, & while it doesn’t feel as nice as I remember, I leave work (without telling anyone) & walk 18 miles home. I normally take the bus, but today, I was mad enough (& my genitals were cold enough) to energize me to walk every mile back. I walk in the door, walk past the living room, & head straight to my home refrigerator. I open it; there it is! Right next to 19 individual cans of Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers is my liquid death. “Alright, you devilish can,” I said. “It’s time I drink you up!” I open the can of Liquid Death. I slurp a lil bit of it. I lick my lips. Yuck! Just as I expected; it’s a little aluminum-y. Like, why wouldn’t you just put the water in a tetrapack or something? I start thinking further… why have I been bringing Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers to work every day instead? I close the fridge (because my genitals are cold enough) & I frantically search the house.

I open the door that leads from the kitchen to the garage, & I see a car, still running, with no one in it, spewing exhaust throughout the room. Which makes sense now that I think about it, I was wondering why I would see smoke coming out from under that door every time I was in the kitchen. I just never checked cuz I figured it was none of my business. Regardless, I now remember that I rented a car about 4 days ago because I wanted to see if I could get one with a fake ID. I brought it home & parked it & got so scared of driving it anywhere else, I jolted out of the car, neglecting to turn it off. The experience was so traumatic, I blocked it out of my memory… i guess it was giving me carbon monoxide poisoning too. I guess it’s true what they say. You can lead a car to your garage, but you can’t leave it in there running because you’ll get carbon monoxide poisoning & you’ll buy 22 individual cans of Swag brand Pickle Rick Pickle Juice canned boxers. #wednesdaywisdom

#original pic by @eatsyourburger on twitter which is a great screen name

187 notes · View notes

hearteyeshayley · 8 months

Text

I wanted to share another cut scene from my 40k TimKon fic Take me to the airport (call me from the platform)

this scene is from the draft where Tim is pining over their FWB situation and Kon fully believes that they've been dating for weeks. Also featuring Damian, who just came out as gay and needs some advice.

Tim didn’t know what to do.

He tried to think it through alone but his thoughts kept getting caught on the insane fact that out of everyone in the family Damian came out to him. It was too weird. It was probably a mixture of knowing Tim was gay, forced proximity, and the fact that Damian didn’t care about his opinion. He still felt pressure to be supportive. Now he was this wise older brother who Damian could come to for guidance and Tim wanted to crawl out of his skin. He’d barely come to terms with his own sexuality, how was he supposed to help a kid like the demon brat?

Eventually he confided in Kon and Kon, well. Kon had ideas.

“Let’s take him to a gay bar.”

“He’s fifteen.”

“Bribe the bouncers.”

Tim had no other ideas and eventually Kon came up with some arguments.

“It’ll be great,” he said, “You can be the cool older brother who takes him to his first gay bar. That’s exactly what a cool older brother would do.”

The Monastery was a gay bar in the heart of Metropolis. It looked grittier than it was with exposed brick and thick, red velvet curtains that made the whole bar feel like backstage. There was a stage and a runway in the back of the room where Tim, Kon, Bart, and Cassie had seen several drag shows.

On a Tuesday night, it wouldn’t be too wild. No DJs, no drag queens, no karaoke. Only a little glitter.

The Monastery was 18 and over.

Damian was 15 but he could pass.

Just not dressed like that.

Tim looked through his coat closet for something Damian could borrow.

“I’m dressed business casual.”

“You look like a kid who’s trying to look older,” said Tim, “You need to wear something that says college freshman casual.”

He pulled out a Metropolis University Sweatshirt and handed it to him. Damian looked disgusted.

“Is this the Clone’s?”

“He doesn’t keep his clothes here.”

Damian still had a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“It’s not my size.”

“You’ll look like a college student. Instead of a kid at his middle school graduation.”

Damian took the sweatshirt. But he wasn’t happy about it.

Kon, Tim, and Damian, with his sweatshirt sleeves pushed up and a scowl, stood outside of The Monastery. They were behind a group of rowdy college kids who were either already drunk or theater majors. Tim had his arms crossed and his back against Kon’s side, only an inch between him. Close enough for his body heat and broad torso to block out the windy night.

“You’re gonna love this place,” Kon said to Damian.

“Tt.”

“I already regret this,” Tim murmured, turning his face into Kon.

“Relax,” Kon put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “This is gonna be great.”

Damian judgmentally side eyed a girl fumbling for her wallet in front of the massive bouncer. She had a half shaved head and nose piercing. The bouncer wasn’t asking everyone for their ID, just people he found suspiciously baby faced, and Tim cursed himself for not taking the extra time to throw together a fake for Damian. He’d done it for himself countless times.

“Stop glaring. It makes you look fifteen,” Tim said. Damian glared at him harder.

Finally, they approached the bouncer. He let them inside, without a second glance—

until he held out an arm in front of Tim.

“I’m gonna need to see some ID.”

Tim fished out his wallet and fought down the flare of annoyance that made him want to say something really douchey like do you know who I am or I’d like to see you stop me. Instead he calmly and with as much dignity as he could handed over his ID card. He even managed to keep his cool as the bouncer examined it closely with a flashlight and quizzed him on his birthday. Finally he was allowed to enter, though when he saw how thoroughly delighted Kon and Damian looked he wanted to turn back around and disappear into the night.

“Stop frowning. It makes you look fifteen,” said Damian. Kon laughed.

“I’ll get our drinks,” Tim snapped and pushed his way toward the bar.

“Come on, it’s funny,” Kon called after him. “It—” Tim didn’t look back so he turned to Damian and said, “he’ll get over it. Let’s get a table.”

They found a cherry red booth that circled around a small table. Rainbow lights were criss-crossed against the wall, casting everybody in a warm glow. The place was lively but not packed. Miley Cyrus played through the speakers but it wasn’t loud enough that you had to shout to be heard.

The last time Kon and Damian were alone, it’d been super awkward. But at least Damian had talked to him more than one word at a time.

“Have you been to a bar before?”

“Yes,” Damian said, like he was stupid for asking.

“Have you been drunk before?”

“No.”

Kon leaned back in the booth.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a cop. I won’t tell anyone. Not even Batman.”

Damian said nothing.

Kon drummed his fingers against the table.

“I went to my first gay bar when I was your age.”

“You were never my age.”

Kon exhaled.

“Or whatever,” he said, his eyes drifting toward the bar.

Tim was taking his sweet time. He used his super hearing but Tim wasn’t even talking to the bartender. He was casually leaned against the bar, looking devastatingly hot with his button up shirt and calculating gaze. His hair fell over his forehead in this effortless way that just dared you to run a hand through it. Someone would talk to him soon, probably offer to buy him a drink, and maybe Kon should go over there before they had a chance.

“How is a gay bar different from a straight bar?”

Kon turned back to Damian, who sounded really weird. It must be what he sounded like when he asked a genuine question. He didn’t want to look eager, so he took a second before answering.

“There’s more gay people.”

Damian scowled like he was making fun of him but that was Kon’s genuine answer. He hastily added.

“I mean— also, it has a different vibe. Like, the energy and everything. It’s cool to walk into a place and know most people are gay. And it makes it way easier to hit on guys.”

“Is that why we’re here?”

“No.” He fought down a smile because then Damian would be really pissed. “Tim and I just wanted to show you there are cool places out there where you can be who you are.”

“Who took you to your first gay bar?”

Kon had to smile at the memory.

“I was alone. And I didn’t know it was a gay bar when I wandered in, but it ended up being the best night ever. That’s where I hooked up with this hot guy who was like—”

“I didn’t ask,” Damian cut him off. “And I don’t want to throw up in these bathrooms.”

“Okay, okay…You know, I would’ve killed— metaphorically—” Damian narrowed his eyes but Kon continued obliviously, “to have an older brother with a cool boyfriend show me around back then. I really could’ve used someone to impart some wisdom. And buy some drinks.”

Damian raised an eyebrow.

Kon deflated an inch.

“Okay, so Tim won’t let me buy you a drink but maybe—”

“I don’t want a drink,” Damian said like he was stupid, a tone Kon was becoming more and more familiar with, “You called yourself his boyfriend.”

“Uh, yeah, because I am.”

Damian titled his head, taking his time to look him up and down, like he was really enjoying this.

“That’s not what he told me.”

Kon’s confident, laid back, façade cracked.

“What did he—”

Tim appeared balancing three drinks and placed them gently on the table.

“Okay, an Old Fashioned, a Manhattan, and a water for the teenager,” he stopped when he saw the look on Kon’s face. “What are you guys talking about?” He asked, ready to blame Damian.

“Nothing,” Kon said. “Thanks for the drink.” He moved to make room. Tim sat, but Kon had scooted more than he needed to, leaving too much space between them. Tim wrapped a hand around his drink.

“What’s the purpose of the stage?” Damian asked.

“They do drag shows,” Tim said, glancing at Kon who still looked bothered. “If you don’t know, drag shows are—”

“I know,” said Damian.

“Then, yeah, stuff like that,” he said before glancing at Kon’s drink. “Did you want something else?”

“I’m fine,” Kon said.

He picked up his glass then put it right back down. He didn’t want to do something just because Tim wanted him to. Even though he was thirsty now. Dammit.

“What did you say to him?” Tim asked Damian.

“He didn’t say anything. I told you, I’m fine.”

“In fact,” Damian said, sounding innocent in a way that was suspicious, “the clone was just telling me about the first time he went to a gay bar and the man he slept with.”

Tim’s incredulous look just made Kon defensive.

“I didn’t tell him the good parts. When did you go to your first gay bar?”

“Probably in college,” Tim said and took a sip of his Manhattan.

“You don’t remember?”

“Memory loss is a common side affect when you consume too much alcohol,” Damian said, very matter-of-factly.

“I wasn’t blackout drunk,” Tim rolled his eyes. “It was the summer before college and I went with a few friends from high school.”

“Your friends from high school are gay?” Damian asked.

“Some of them.”

“Who?”

“You don’t know them.”

Tim took another drink and Kon couldn’t sit back any longer while he looked so obviously uncomfortable. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table.

“They say one in four people are gay.”

“Who says that?” Damian asked the same time Tim said, “That doesn’t sound right.”

“It’s true,” Kon stood by the statistic he totally pulled out of his ass. He raised his eyebrows, “Makes you think about the Justice League.”

That pulled a short laugh out of Tim but Damian just looked at him like he was an idiot. Classic Damian.

The latest Doja Cat song played through the speakers and a large group of friends standing by the bar started singing along. Damian sipped his water and people watched them with a closed off expression. His eyes betrayed his curiosity, sweeping his surroundings and soaking up every detail. After their drinks were mostly gone Damian excused himself to go to the bathroom.

“Hey,” Kon said as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Hi,” Tim said, feeling the pleasant buzz of his drink in his limbs.

Tim looked so beautiful. The atmosphere of the bustling bar behind him made it look like an old photo, especially with the light hitting his face and softening all his features. It was the type of photo you showed your kids one day and said that’s what he looked like when we met.

“Should I get a second round?”

“Do you… Are we…”

Kon had a lot of practice looking stupid, but the question kept dying on his tongue. When Tim was looking at him like this, he really didn’t want to feel stupid.

“Are we what?”

A beat.

“Nothing. Nevermind. Let me get you a drink.”

#I love the Tim getting carded scene #kill your darlings etc.#timkon #timkon fic #Conner Kent fic #ao3 #batman #batman fic

23 notes · View notes

jjtheresidentbaby · 1 year

Note

ok hi im the one that sent the teen wolf ask i forgot to specify! id love anything with a baby regressor stiles and maybe a caregiver sheriff stilinksi (he gets so much better throughout the seasons i swear) or caregiver derek! (both as platonic pairings) i hope u like the show ^^!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ protector ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

|| stiles stilinski x derek hale | read on ao3

a/n: my insistent need to write sterek angst is showing whoops

warnings: Derek finding out about Stiles’ regression for the first time, hurt/comfort, Stiles using regression as a coping mechanism, protective Derek

Derek glances over at Stiles for the fifth time in the past minute, something's off with him, he's bouncing his leg and his heart beats as if he's on edge. It's not an emotion Hale picks up a lot from Stiles, anxious and nervous aren't words Derek would think to describe him at all, he's more energetic and curious than anything.

So it's raising quite a few red flags now. They're at Scott's house, trying to act normal and watch a movie like regular non-supernatural friends do. Lydia and Jackson are laid out on the makeshift bed on the floor next to Alison and Scott, there's a horror comedy going that the pairs seem very interested in. Isaac, Stiles and Derek take up the couch with Stiles in the middle.

Before the shift of Stiles’ behavior he was happily chuckling at the movie, giggling really, another thing Derek has never heard until tonight. Maybe he just hasn't been around Stiles long enough outside the near death experiences they share, Hale can't spend too much time dwelling on it as when a gruesome yet comical death pops up on screen Stiles curls back from the Tv.

He's closer to Derek than Isaac, who must've picked up on Stiles' actions and heartbeat as he keeps looking him over, presumably checking for injuries like Isaac usually does when someones acting off. Derek almost goes to ask Stiles if he's alright but he can't get the words out before Stiles is barreling himself backwards into Derek's chest.

"You okay?" Stiles doesn't say anything in reply but his heart rate has ticked up a significant amount and one of his hands grabs the loose material of Derek's t-shirt like a lifeline.

"Stiles?" He keeps his voice low, even if half the room can hear him if they wanted to no matter what. Stiles lets out a small whine, it twists something in Derek's chest, he suddenly has the urge to wrap Stiles up in a mountain of blankets and never let anything bad or scary come near him.

"Is it the movie?" Another flinch after a bloody scene and the pieces fall together, Derek curls his arm around Stiles to block out the Tv, practically shielding his whole body into Hales chest.

"Wanna leave." It's small, pitchy, unusually young sounding. It's all Derek needs to jump up with a sputtered out excuse about Stiles having a headache and needing a ride home, of course the other wolves sitting around hear how obvious of a lie it is but they thankfully keep their mouths shut.

Getting to Stiles' house takes no time at all, Noah's still at the office so Derek is able to slip them both upstairs without any interruptions. Stiles stays pressed to Hales side the whole time. As close as he can get while still using his legs to walk, or to drag, Derek holds most of Stiles' weight and takes them up the stairs as carefully as he can to not have either of them trip.

"Can you tell me what's going on now?" He tries to sound assuring, attempting to not let any of the worry that Derek can feel building in his gut appear on his face or in his tone.

"I feel- small." Stiles doesn't look up as he says it, squeezing the ball of Derek's shirt he still holds instead, pulling him the littlest bit closer despite the hesitation in his words.

"Small?" A beat passes of silence. Derek isn't sure what to do in this situation, he's never had someone hold onto him like this, clinging onto to him as if begging him not to leave.

His thoughts get pulled back to reality when Stiles leans over his bed, one hand still holding Derek's shirt so it stretches as he reaches with his free arm, retrieving a small book that he places slowly in Derek's lap.

It's clipped down with a small strip of cloth that's definitely needed as the book thickens up quickly when Derek un clasps it. The first few pages are warnings as to not continue reading as this is personal for Stiles, Derek flips past them when Stiles nudges him along, stopping him on a specific page. It's a list of definitions scribbled down in Stiles' handwriting, Derek focuses in on the one that reads 'Little (small)' there's a dash before it explains what an age regressor is, how it's a change in mental state, a coping mechanism.

Oh. Derek's eyes fall to Stiles' state, how curled in on himself he is, how his eyes have a slight gloss of pain to them; Hales heart all but shatters. He quickly pulls Stiles into his chest, pushing them back till they reach Stiles' headboard. He's hoping this is the right move. It feels like it and Stiles hasn't pushed him away yet, so Derek just holds him, taking in deep breaths in hopes that Stiles will naturally relax enough to match the pattern, and rubbing his hand in big circles over Stiles' back for extra comfort.

"The movie, it triggered you?" Stiles nods against Derek's chest, tucking his legs up on top of Hales, looking impossibly tiny as he lays on Derek.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Triggers aren't new to Derek, not in the slightest, but this is the first time he's ever seen something affect Stiles, normally the brunette is great at bouncing back and keeping things together, at least on the surface. But judging by the amount of pages in that book that are filled, this isn't a new feeling for Stiles.

"Stay, don't let the bad things get me." The young sound and vulnerability in Stiles voice is enough to crack Derek's heart open even more. He can't help but tug Stiles in closer, allowing Stiles to wrap his arms around Hales waist as he tucks his nose into Derek's shoulder.

"I'd never let anything get you, never." Hales hand brushes over Stiles' head, rest on the back of his neck a second, allowing himself to indulge in the softness of the moment. Normally Derek wouldn't dream of being this gentle with someone, frankly he's bad at it, but there's something about Stiles and how easily he cuddles into Derek's chest that makes it seem like a no-brainer to return the affection.

"You're a good protector." It's just barely a mumble, Stiles' eyes fluttering shut as he falls asleep.

Derek's pretty sure he doesn't breathe for a solid minute after hearing the words, he pretends like it doesn't make him tear up a bit and instead focuses on holding Stiles as carefully as he can so the little doesn’t wake up and keeping watch of the door. If Stiles doesn’t want anything bad to happen and he trusts Derek to keep sure of that, it’s all he going to do.

#jj writes #teen wolf agere #stiles stilinski #derek hale #little!stiles #caregiver!derek hale #derek x stiles

43 notes · View notes

lonelypep · 1 month

Text

as anyone who has tried to learn an art could tell you, your taste in the craft will always accelerate faster than your actual skill. and now, dear tumblr users, i have reached this point. my taste has risen meteorically, and is now exploring the cosmos. my actual skill at anything has been left choking on pathetic, earthling dust.

as such, the specter of perfectionism has once again reared its head.

it sits at the helm of my creative synapses, acting as an infernal judge dictating the quality of everything i make. and unfortunately, the specter is a pessimist, a real “glass half-empty” sort of guy.

in a lot of ways, i’m a real hypocrite. i’ve encouraged nearly everyone i’ve met in the past year to pursue some sort of creative effort. and when they jokingly retort “oh id only make garbage,” id unleash my whole spiel on the topic: “it doesn’t have to be good! self expression is important! the greatest poets were spitting drivel at first! van gogh’s first painting is probably a complete piece of shit!”

and then, after the spectral, infernal judge/helmsman hasnt sent anything good out in a while, a second ghost, that of self doubt creeps in. and i question if i even enjoy making, if im so obsessed with the result. have i chosen the wrong profession? have i ever had an original thought in my entire life?

it’s time i mention the most popular thing ive ever posted on this website: a complete ranking of every super smash bros character, ranked by how good of a meal i think they would bring to a potluck.

i got the idea for this post after babysitting my young cousins, playing super smash bros with them. after a while, i got a character with a charge move, and said “hang on, let me cook for a bit.” they’re young, so they took this completely literally with “you’re not cooking anything.”

the entire night i was plagued, thinking about what smash bros characters would actually cook meal-wise. i wrote the entire thing in 2 hours, and i was sloppy with it. i got the numbers for the characters wrong multiple times, and i didn’t even go back and fix it. and yet it’s my most popular post, it has over a thousand notes.

my point is that your best ideas aren’t something that will shine on you like the light of god. they’re things that you’ll randomly think of while sitting on the toilet, which is even better than the light of god i think. and there’s value in all of your ideas. not just value for random tumblr users, but value for yourself.

originality is overrated anyways. i haven’t necessarily said anything original here, but it was worth it to me! i’ve reasoned through a writer’s block! i’ve made a thing! it’s worth it to me!

just make things. every single idea a person can have is precious. it’s all valuable in some way. you’re creative, even if you don’t know that yet. you’re an artistic genius whether you like it or not, you simply have no choice. so just make.

and i don’t think this essay will solve all block forever. obviously not. i’ll be scorned by the evils of perfectionism again. probably later today. but just do what you need to, take a break, take a walk, rewatch everything everywhere all at once, take a tumblr break. this is fun, remember?

#rudimentary pretentious essay #mini essay #essay #essay writing #personal essay #in this essay i will #my essays #i’ve said essay too many times now it has no meaning #art #poetry #writing #creative writing #creative inspiration #creative process #creativity

5 notes · View notes

altschmerzes · 5 months

Note

any clue as to when chapter two of the torture fic might release? Id kill a man for some of that gorgeously written angsty comfort. (in the snippets youve given how itd affecting jack is absolutely tearing at my heart its so good)

it should be pretty soon!! it's getting up there in wordcount, i'm predicting it'll be about the same as part 1. i'm in the finals stretch so my time is extremely strained at the mo but i also tend to work in bursts around essays and exams this time of hear so that doesn't necessarily mean anything XD and regardless, i'm almost done with the term, so my time is my own soon!! regardless: shouldn't be too much longer and then it'll be an. enormous 35k+ or so chapter that is. entirely angsty comfort and traumatic medical evaluation/treatment.

in the meantime, here's a clip from part 2, under the cut along with warnings bc. well. this is the torture fic after all lmao. and bc it's..... a Very Long Clip, it's like, 1k-ish, enjoy :)

(warnings: references/sorta flashbacks to sexual assault a la the hickey thing in part 1, mac is just generally not in a. good state. rn. the trauma is extremely fresh, he's in a lot of pain, and he's just been helped out of the supply closet he was hiding in, and realized jack's seen the injuries that make it a little more obvious he's been sexually assaulted - the bite mark, the hickeys.)

“It’s freezing in here,” Jack mutters.

The sound of his voice makes Mac twitch. It’s not quite a flinch but it’s halfway there at least, and he tries to quell the rattled shivers coursing through his body like spiderweb cracks through ice. He takes a step to the side and leans against the admissions desk, needing support but unwilling to lean against the wall. Glancing down, Mac gathers the ends of his shirt closed as best as he can, trying to shield his torso from the cold and from view.

Movement in Mac’s peripheral vision catches his eye and he looks over. Jack’s found a blanket somewhere, shaking it out and examining it.

“It’s not much, but it’s clean,” he says, walking over with it and stopping a few feet away. “I think Sam left it here for us. Nice of her.”

Mac tries to reach for the blanket but his shoulders won’t let him get that far. He purses his lips to muffle the pained sound he makes, hoping Jack hadn’t heard it.

“Hey, easy, I got it. You just let me do all the work.”

It takes all of Mac’s focused willpower to keep himself from moving, staying still and letting Jack finish crossing the distance separating them with the blanket. Jack lifts it slowly, draping it around Mac’s shoulders. The effect is immediate, blocking the faint draft that seems to have been drifting through the office this whole time and bringing some amount of warmth back to Mac’s chilled body. As his partner continues to adjust it, the folded edge of the blanket touches Mac’s neck and sends an immediate tidal wave of panic through him. He shudders, inhaling sharply and saying, “No, don’t.”

The words are barely comprehensible, a shredded collection of syllables, but somehow Jack understands the problem immediately. He fixes the blanket, rearranging it so that it hangs in a loose drape that doesn’t come into contact with the bruises on Mac’s neck at all. “There you go, that should help some.” For a final touch, Jack tucks the edges together in the front where Mac can hold them himself and be covered, at least from the collarbones down.

The relief at being shielded again, the battered and bleeding skin of Mac’s torso out of sight for the first time since Murdoc started cutting his clothes off, is a heady rush. It’s good as well to finally have some kind of real barrier against the cold that’s surely going to get worse as soon as they head out through the propped-open door. Even so, there are still things that have Mac on edge.

A breeze from the open door shivers through Mac’s hair and across his neck, chilling his skin where the blanket being adjusted low away from his bruised throat has left him vulnerable to the frigid temperatures. He’s acutely aware of the hickey high up almost at his jaw and he pictures it involuntarily. The sight of it in the mirror is seared into his mind, and he wonders how much more livid it looks now. It’s going to be a bad one. The forcible intrusion of the image in the mirror is replaced with the sensation of Murdoc’s head grinding against Mac’s as his teeth scraped skin. He can remember too the hot, insistent pressure of Murdoc sucking at his neck and the slick, wet sounds that accompanied it. Mac cringes and shudders, rolling his head to get the feeling to go away. He needs to dislodge that moment from his mind, but the movement hurts enough to make his breath catch.

“Mac, what’s going on?” Jack’s question is immediate and attentive. The way he watches Mac and doesn’t miss anything is almost a physical weight. “Something feeling worse? Something we need to take care of right now?”

All that Mac can do in response to the questions is shake his head. He can’t speak and it’s not even because of the damage to his wounded throat. It’s because of the way every ounce of Mac’s energy is already caught up in fighting against a memory he can’t break out of, because he can still feel Murdoc’s cheek against his and the wet smear of tears in the friction between their skin. His breath hitches again and the bruises ringing his neck ache.

“Mac, talk to me.”

Another shake of the head. He can’t, he can’t.

“Okay. Okay.” Jack’s voice is a distressed, talking-to-himself mutter, and then it rises back into a directive register, the slightly-too-loud, slightly-too-slow tone of talking to a disoriented and traumatized person. Mac knows that tone. He’s heard it two dozen times over, and it never gets less embarrassing to have it directed at him. “Finding it hard to talk?”

When Mac nods it hurts, but he does it again anyway, nodding harder, needing to convey how very much he can’t speak right now.

“Okay. That’s okay. Do you need anything?”

The question sticks in Mac’s mind like a particularly tricky bit of a physics problem. He can’t do anything to answer it, not really - he shakes his head, then nods, then shakes it again. It’s too complicated to think about, too impossible to answer in his fractured, pathetic state.

“Alright, that’s on me,” Jack says quickly, and his ‘traumatized victim’ voice has slipped sideways a bit into something else, something softer, sadder. It’s a strange thing to hear while he’s supposed to be acting as Agent Dalton - it’s too raw. Too personal. “That was the wrong sorta thing to ask, that’s alright. I’m not mad. Nobody’s mad at you.” The reassurance, despite the way Mac hadn’t even said anything, makes him want to break down all over again. “You don’t gotta think any harder on it. Let’s just get you out to the car, okay?”

Mac is so grateful - for the patience, the care, the fact that he’s been rescued at all and he’s going to get to go home - that his eyes burn and he feels a tear slip down his cheek, followed quickly by another. His face feels wet and tacky, chilled by the periodic rush of winter wind, and the feeling just brings the sense memory of Murdoc’s mouth on his neck back to the forefront of his mind all over again. He cringes, remembering the way he had cried then too, and reaches for his face to wipe the sensation away. Except that Mac’s hands can’t get up far enough, not with the pain in his shoulders and how he’d have to let go of the blanket to reach. A quiet almost-sob catches in his aching throat and he shudders, twitching with the aborted inability to even wipe off his own face.

“Can I?”

When Mac looks up and sees that Jack is right there, closer than he remembered, he leans back at first on instinct. But there’s nothing behind his back, nothing trapping him there, and the hand held up towards his face isn’t grabbing or forcing. It isn’t moving at all, actually. It’s just staying there between them, waiting for Mac’s response to the question.

Just a tiny fraction of a movement, Mac nods. Permission granted, Jack slowly, carefully wipes his cheeks dry with the pad of his thumb and the second knuckle of his index finger - small, tender touches that paradoxically make Mac want to cry even harder. It works, though. It dries his face and is enough to bring him firmly out of the memory, too. The feeling of Jack’s cautious touch, present and real and gentle in the here and now, has displaced the phantom of Murdoc’s invasive assault, bringing Mac back to the current moment and keeping him there.

“You ready to go?”

It takes a moment of blinking at him, suspicion and anxiety stringing a high violin note through Mac’s lungs, but scrutiny of Jack’s face and voice doesn’t turn up any kind of trick. It’s just a question, and all he seems to want is an answer.

“Yeah,” Mac rasps, and then it’s his turn to be studied until Jack nods, having evidently not found anything objectionable in his searching either.

#gav gab #gav answers #writing liveblog #fic: something to hold onto #this is like #a very good example of the Tone of like all of chapter 2 #it's a. brutal chapter. in a different way than part 1 is y'know

8 notes · View notes

captainkranos · 9 months

Text

Dreaming of Metal- Part One A story for those wishing they were robots

This is my first major foray into writing, so id love constructive criticism! This is part one, and it doesn't contain any smut, but I am planning for future parts to have it. Hope you enjoy!!!

It was a cold evening. February was always cold. The local coffee shop was closed, so you had to go a lot further than usual. It was the nearest one that wasn't a chain. Starbucks was definitely worse now after the Apple buyout, and you're gonna need quite a bit of coffee if you plan to finish the coding project tonight. "602nd and 28th..." You mutter under your breath. Just a few more freezing blocks. Neo York City was big. After the Monopolization of 2350, corporations started buying out whole cities. The extra 300 streets added seemed like a good idea to most, but it really just makes the good parts of the city further away from each other.

Power walking down the sidewalk in an attempt to stay warm, a pink, blinking, neon sign catches your eyes. "Order a Robotic Companion Today! Keep you company! Great at coding!" That last tagline stuck in your mind as you remember the 457 bugs last time you tried to compile the latest project. And your last romantic partner walked out on you last week after suggesting those cybernetic enhancements... How were you supposed to know a cyborg killed their grandma? You only suggested them because you weren’t brave enough to get them installed in yourself anyways. "Dial 1-800-ROBOT today!" The number was easy to remember at least. You look down the street again, and spot the coffee shop your personal navigator directed you to. You make a mental note of the phone number, and head off to get fuel for the long night ahead of you…

“ITS DONE!” You exclaim as the compiler notes zero bugs found. It's a tool to help organize blog posts for your favorite website. The site creators should have added this years ago, but you're glad to have it done now at least. You sit in silence, appreciating your handiwork… but it's a sad silence. Your old partner helped write the start of this, and now they'll never see it completed. Your thoughts flashback to that sign you saw today. A robotic companion sounds so nice. Someone to confide in, to understand you, who would understand how you feel about robots. In a bout of weakness, you pick up your holophone, and mash in the phone number that's been spinning in your head all day.

“Q.P.R.A.U. Robotics! Where we match you with the moving metal of your dreams! How can we meet your emotional needs today?” The voice on the other end sounds synthesized, but not automated. “Uhhh Hi? I think I'm looking for a companion bot?” “Sure! How would you rate your emotional starvation from one to ten?” Even though it's only been a week, the rate at which your apartment deteriorated into disrepair would put a bull in a china shop to shame. “...Ten” “And would you like to sign up for our alternate payment services?” Oh thank goodness. You really didn’t want to shell out too much for this. Most companies use these alternate options as a way to obtain and sell your data. A body scan or a blood donation will usually make rent much easier to pay each month if you want to buy something nice. “Yes I would.” “Great! We will have your order shipped out to you within 3-6 weeks! Have a great day!” The call ends. You never gave them a name or a shipping address? Maybe they scraped it from your IP address? You really didn't care. As long as a friend gets shipped in the mail, you would put up with anything.

March. It's been a tough few weeks. The coding commissions have been few and far between. At least the apartment complex therapist is back on call. He has really been helping you get through the emotional weeds of life. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK You peel yourself up from the chair in your office and over to the door. It's probably the neighbors again, their cat is quite the escape artist. Opening the door, standing in the hallway is a synth, with a metal box the size of a large person. If they were not a robot, you would ask to help with it, but you know that their electronic muscles are at least 100 times stronger than yours. You wish you could lift that much… “Is this the residency of anon?” “Yeah… what's this?” “Your package! Courtesy of Q.P.R.A.U. Robotics!” You had forgotten everything about that night. Getting hammered off of French nano-wine tends to do that to you. “Do I need to sign anything?” “Nope! Heres your package!” The synth walked into your apartment and placed the box right in the center of the entryway. It came down with a rather hefty thud. You already knew the downstairs neighbors would be filing a complaint. “Have a nice day! And good luck with the alternative payment services!” The synth walks out with a jolly expression. They always seem happy, probably because they are made of metal… Glancing back at the metal box in your entryway snaps your thoughts back to reality. How the hell are you going to move this anywhere? Your eyes are drawn to a blinking red button on the side you hadn't noticed before. Hopefully it’s the “Open” button and not “Self-Destruct”. With all the confidence you can muster, you press the button and wait for something to happen. An agonizing silence follows, until distinct gear turning and motor wrrring noises begin to emanate from the box. Like a birthday present made of tinfoil, the metal begins to unwrap itself and pour an unknown smoke out into your apartment. Your first thoughts are of the fire dampening systems firing off, but knowing your landlord, they probably haven't worked for years.

The smoke clears, the metal lies in a pile at your feet, and a shiny silver figure stands before you. Its form is definitely feminine in origin, but the steel plates that make up the body are all that fill your mind. They have to be at least a foot taller than you, as you stare up into its blank but imposing expression. “Uhh… Hello?” A rather cute set of chimes ring out from a circular design in the machine’s chest as pink lights spread outward from the center out to the limbs. The last line of lights to reach its goal is the one moving towards the head, as the eyes fill with light and the body hums with the moving of cogs and belts It’s head slowly turns towards you and a smile creeps up its face as a mixture of fear and excitement fills your heart.

“Hello! I'm Daniella and I'll be your new mistress!”

#robot #robot writing #robot smut #kranos' writing

13 notes · View notes

nicegaai · 6 months

Text

having nor/ice thoughtssssssssssssss sad sad whiny kitty cat noises. wahhhh. im thinking about them wahhhhhhhh. WAHHH

what if i took all my small canonverse ideas and compiled them into ONESHOTSSSSS........................................ and what if they were CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED ..... and showed RELATIONSHIP PROGRESSION over the course of 1000 years ...... and it wasnt that deep but i pretended it was and called it something like "i was meant to keep you warm" because i love to steal fox/i/ng lyrics. maybe even id find a way to make this a 5 times + 1 time format.

if i can wrestle my way into figuring out what goes on in nors head i could do it. ive figured that i want ice to never ever see him as a brother. my vision is that nor is iceladns hot babysitter fantasy and first crush that never goes away. he wants to marry him when he grows up but then his feelings stay that way and it never ever ever ever ever goes away and only gets worse. u understand? do u see it

and UNFORTUNATELY nor knows ic/eland likes him from the beginning. he can tell from like ice's adolescence onwards and is like yeah idk about all that...... but the attention is flattering and he loves this little guy so much and thinks its sweet. he doesnt get to visit often but ice writes him a lot because hes in love with him ykwim and nor loves him so much too (platonic) and always writes back.

and yeah they go through periods of living together for various reasons. sickness unions famines etc etc. not ever for long and nothing ever happens. if adolescent iceland pushed boundaries, nor would humor him a little with like...a kiss, bc he spoils him, but ultimately he hard-shuts it down. and ice would be traumatized forever and block the memory out / be eternally tormented at night by the time he did such and such so is the worst person alive etc

and ice begins teen life with the whole he will never love me and i am a tormented soul shtick. now he writes to him less, tries to put more distance between them... so it hurts less and all that. hes not GOOD at pretending he hates nor or whatever but its easy to lose connection when messages are rare and visits are rarer

he spends much more time at denmarks than with no.rway. he sees den.mark as a proper older brother / uncle / fatherly figure. hes closer emotionally to him and lives with him more and all that. his tutors are danish and he goes to boarding school in cop.enhagen in the 1800s. idk how this ties into the romance necessarily but its timeline relevant. whether or not denmark picks up on the crush , i dont know. i could go either way lol. also, den + nors relationship is strictly brotherly btw. ironically. because theres not enough fics where theyre platonic and i really do enjoy them that way too

nor and ice remain distant for several hundred years. its once ice gets into his pushing for independence mixed with modern technology for better communication ..... somewhere between say, the invention of the airplane and landline phones, nor and ice repair their relationship. iceland is coming into adulthood (independence) for real, and is SO mature about his international relationships. he can be so mature and normal about norway. he can sit down with him and have lunch and discuss business and norway wont talk down at him for being young at all (lie) and he'll be so chill about that and not yell at him (he only does it once) (he only has to do it once)

all this isnt to say n.orway himself didnt attempt to stay close over the years, but ic.eland wasnt reciprocating, and even if they saw each other every year at christmas (doubt) that doesnt make them really CLOSE. but i think iceland was always particularly special to him bc of how close they were as kids. and they WERE both kids back then. little icela.nd sent him letters while nor was like 14 at best. i believe in teen mom norway and his eldest sondaughter icey. at least from nors perspective. even tho hes so absent so much of the time. when he comes around he showers him in gifts as a love language even way back when

anyway, ice.land still has an obvious crush on nor and nor finds it SO cute. like he could just pinch his cheeks and coo at him for it. ice tries to keep a lid on his emotions but can only do so much. nor doesnt SAY anything to point sus behavior out. but as soon as he notices,,,, its like there was no time apart, to nor. ice is so closed off and stiff and weird around him and nor wishes he would relax so they can connect properly and he honestly CANT

the solution is to drink otgether i think. at some point. maybe not immediately but they'll get to it.

icela.nd isnt like oohg im too young to drink, i think hes just lived long enough that hes a bit Over It / doesnt want to act like an idiot / really doesnt want to act like an idiot in front of nor. but nor could peer pressure him into anything if he really tried so they finally get tipsy together and i think that goes a long way to repair their relationship.

they do this many times and as long as ice is careful to not drink a lot he'll be fine. hes gotta keep his wits about him and still be able to feel shame. one time he indulges a little hard and i think ice trauma dumps on him and they kiss to make up for the time nor pushed him away and nor didnt realize he was still hurting so much about that. nor is tipsy enough to do it (not even drunk) and afterwards he goes ohh wait i kind of enjoyed that. and do it a few more times then make out for a while and it doesnt go anywhere, they fall asleep

the next day they completely remember kissing and know the other remembers it and just mutually dont talk about it.

icelan.d is VISIBLY struggling even harder around him for at least a few days until he gets a handle on his emotions. and nor has a lot to think about. in general.

i dont know where the dna stuff comes in. im falling asleep while typeing this

but icelan.d obvioiusly is like wtf? we arent related. thats impossible. i cant even fathom this. and nor.way is like you are the closest i will ever have to family and i am your biological father and icel.and is like what the fuck ew you can say brother as much as you want but never say father again im begging you and nor is like Bet.

and then they test and they're first degree related. father or brother would be appropriate. and nor is like yeah obviously (already believed this when he kissed him) and ic.eland is like (max harlow voice) SUICIDE !! SUICIDE !!

icelan.d sits with that information for a while but his crush still doesnt go away. nor gives him space and also sits with the information. he never thought he'd end up here but he decides that hes into it. its kinda hot. I Do believe in slutty n.orway supremacy i thnk hes slept with most of europe and doesnt have a strong internal sense of familial boundaries considering he is a landmass and is like yeah id do that again we're both adults hes cute whatever

next time they see each other nor comes onto him. and ice is squeemish about it but this is also everything hes ever wanted. whats he gonna do, say no?

at this point i fell asleep but im awake again uhhhh

ic.eland gets to cope with being a creep a weirdo and getting what he wanted in the worst way possible and nor gets to torment him with the brother thing not as a kink but bcz it makes him uncomfortable and he thinks its funny.

i forgot to talk about the actual oneshot ideas that inspired this in the first place didnt i. oh well

aaaaaaaaaaaaand post

8 notes · View notes

princeinsomniavoid · 8 days

Text

Living

In which guts are spilled, feelings are realized, and a cliche isn't really a bad thing.

huge tw for graphic suicidal ideation/attempt, non-explicit themes of child neglect, general homestuckness, gay people [eeeewww/j]

[TG]: Sitting at the precipice of an endless fall into the void all by yourself handsome?

Dave flops down next to Percy with a muffled grunt and playfully nudges him in the shoulder with a fist. The page snorts through his nose and rolls his eyes.

Dave leans back on his palms and looks out at the void of the Furthest Ring

[CC]: That was awful, even for you Dave.

[TG]: Well excuse me princess, its not like I scoured the entire meteor trying to find your elusive ass, the least you can do is appreciate my dated references and witty non-sequitur.

[TG]: I can see why you come out here, there sure is a lot of... of... of space... aha.

This earns him a light punch in the arm. He shrugs it off with a light laugh and the banter truly begins. They’re good at that, the talking, like they’ve known each other their whole lives. Aside from John, Rose, and Jade, Dave is pretty sure that he’s known Percy the longest. He can’t remember a time when he didn’t have cadaversCavelry [CC] in his pesterchum window. Seeing him in person like this again after such a long absence gives him an odd feeling in his chest, but not an uncomfortable one.

He’s not sure when it reaches this point, the point in their conversation when they’re both laughing so hard that Dave is sure he’s going to pass out, but sure enough he’s gripping his stomach and wheezing so hard he can feel himself getting lightheaded.

Percy coughs and falls onto his back trying to catch his breath. At some point Dave’s glasses have been knocked askew and he’s blinking back tears. The laughter and jokes continue until Dave is certain he’s going to get a migraine. Sooner or later they fall back into silence, an easy sort and the kind Dave has vague memories of sharing before. He looks over to see that Percy has sat back up and drawn his knees into his chest as he stares nearly unblinking out into the void with a far away expression, and something about that makes his stomach hurt and he can’t for the life of him think of why.

[TG]: Ok- ok dude T.O T.O I can feel the blood rushing to my head oh my god-

[CC]: Sorry- Sorry- Just the- oh jeez I remember the guy’s delivery on it too-!

Woah. Holy shit. What? What?? What??! The question hits Dave in the throat like a brick. Definitely not, he thinks, Dave is pretty sure he’d remember a fucking bombshell like that. He realizes that his mouth had dropped open as his line of dialogue was unceremoniously shut down. His voice catches in his mouth before he clears his throat to respond.

[TG]: So uh… How are you holding up? Y’know with all this crazy shit going on, like with the Trolls and the whole dying thing-

[CC]: Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to kill myself?

Suddenly Dave is very aware of the location this conversation is taking place in, and mentally notes just how close to the edge of the meteor they’re sitting. A very loud little voice in his brain is rattling the bars of its enclosure and yelling at him to grab hold of his friend very firmly and drag them into the housing block. He nods mutely instead for them to continue speaking.

[TG]: no…? I uh, I feel like Id remember something like that man- Uh wheres this going- or like coming from? Like not to sound like a total douche wipe but-

[CC]: I was around 10 I think. I don’t exactly remember but it was definitely a good few years after the move.

Dave is pretty sure he can see Percy’s shoulders shaking, can hear just the faintest tremble in his voice. Unconsciously he’s scooted a little closer to him and has his arms hovering around his frame which seems so small. The Percy he knows is larger than life despite his stature, but now he looks so frail, staring off into the void like Dave doesn’t even exist.

[CC]: My brother had just gone on a business trip i think, or maybe he was on his way home from one? Who cares, he was never around and that was sort of the fuckin’ problem.

[CC]: I don’t really remember a lot from the night before i tried it, you know the whole Big Sleep thing, except that maybe i had talked to you for a little while

[CC]: but I definitely remember calling my brother and trying to ask him to come home early from whatever bullshit work trip he was on.

[CC]: you know, to take care of his younger fucking brother like he said he would when he moved us all the way into the middle of frozen fucking nowhere

Percy grips his knees so hard his knuckles are white, the fabric of the borrowed sweat pants bunched up in his fingers to a degree that Dave is worried that he’s going to tear a hole in them.

[CC]: when he said no like he always did i remember being so angry

[CC]: I had threatened to do something drastic but it was mostly just a lash to try and get it in his head i needed him home.

[CC]: the thing that put the real nail in the coffin so to speak is when he’d just said, “And what? Put all my work to waste?”

[CC]: I remember that fucking sentence like he said it yesterday, and you know what?

[CC]: I DID want to waste his fucking effort, I WANTED that pretentious PRICK to understand that his work? His talents? Didn’t matter.

Ok its official Dave wants to throw up. Jesus Christ on a fucking saltine what the fuck. He finally commits to putting his arms around them, one around his back the other on his knee over his trembling hands. Hell he thinks his own hands might be shaking.

[CC]: So that night after i hung up on him i grabbed every bottle of pills i could find and slammed them back with a bottle of my brothers shitty whiskey that he thought he kept hidden well enough

[CC]: and then for good measure I locked myself in the bathroom and sat back to wait

Percy turns to look at him finally, eyes welled up with tears, glasses foggy.

[TG]: Dude- Percy I’m so-

[CC]: and you know the worst part Dave? I think the worst fucking part of that entire shit storm? I didn’t even fucking think to tell YOU!

The silence returns. Percy looks way again, looking out into the Furthest Ring over his knees. Dave finally properly settles up into giving Percy a proper hug. Its the most awkward affair in the history of fucking existence, but that very loud little voice would not be silenced on the matter. He’s so unsure what to say until he isn’t.

[CC]: not you, not John, not Jade, not even fucking Rose even though I think she would’ve been obnoxious about the whole fucking debacle, calling it a- a fucking cry for help or attention or SOMETHING- god I’m probably not giving her enough credit I know she means well but god.

[CC]: course it didn’t work obviously, but when I woke up in the morning in bed with a vicious fucking hangover my brother was passed out in a chair next to me so I guess that counts for something

He pauses, feeling his breath catching in his throat, but persists nonetheless, giving the boy a squeeze, maybe a touch too hard given the soft whimper he hears.

[TG]: when uh… I found you washed up on that beach, I think it was like… the scariest fucking thing I’d ever experienced.

[TG]: like hands down, I don’t think anything is going to top seeing your corpse half hanging out of the water like that. And sure like, I knew you were going to be fine, probably, but I don’t think I was really aware of that.

He hears and feels Percy chuckle wetly in his arms, a sure sign that his rambling tendencies are good for something at least. He feels himself smile and presses on through the shitty maze that made up his train of thought.

[TG]: I don’t think I’ve ever really told you how important you are to me man-

[TG]: like

[TG]: I don’t really know where id be without you

[TG]: and thats really hard to admit dude- like for real I don’t mean that metaphorically

[TG]: or rhetorically

[TG]: or figuratively or even as like, an allegory- that makes no goddamn sense but you get the idea

[TG]: I care about you a whole fucking lot Percy, and thats saying something coming from me

[TG]: not to sing my own praises from high fucking heaven or anything but Im sort of a big deal- like the coolest mother lover on this side of anywhere ever contrived by man

His train of thought derails when Percy shifts in his grasp to wrap his arms around his middle and bury his face into his neck. He feels the tears seeping into his shitty cape, and feels Percy’s glasses get pushed up off of his nose. When his body finally gets the message that he should probably adjust his arms he flails around desperately for a good few seconds unsure of where to put them, before finally settling on wrapping them around the Page’s neck and shoulders. Something about the position feels natural and easy, like this is the easiest thing he’s ever done, easier than breathing. He heaves out a sigh when he realizes he hadn’t been and on a vaguely selfish impulse he buries his own burning face into Percy’s hair, his shades getting pushed up onto his head. The way they fit together makes his stomach ache again, makes him feel giddy, like he never wants to be separated from this ever. Like he’d rather die.

[TG]: I guess what I mean to say is because you matter so much to me that you’re like, honorarily the second coolest guy in existence

[TG]: like you just won the coolness lottery

[TG]: passed Go collected 200 dollars

[TG]: collected every red coin in the mushroom kingdom

[TG]: is this fucking anything? I feel like im saying words but nothing of actual for real substance is being said

[TG]: like a broken record or something over here

[TG]: the point is getting away from me but you get what im putting down right? This making any sens- ohgodok-

Cool. Cool. Dave is going to fucking explode he swears to any god that exists. He’s not even sure he heard that right, but he feels his body tighten his hold on Percy like a vice, he’s not even sure if Percy cares either because he feels their hands grip the fabric of his cape tighter in response.

[CC]: Dave I wanna live.

Holy goddamn fucking shit. Hell yes. Hell fucking yes. Wait what.

[CC]: I want to live so bad Dave- and not even just because dying for real scared me so fucking bad.

[CC]: I think I want to live for you.

[CC]: I think I love you, Dave.

Dave pulls away and grips Percy by the shoulders, not even bothering to push his shades back down, squinting in the void light at his tear stained face.

[TG]: wait what- like

[TG]: hang on wait

[TG]: wait wait wait

Percy kisses him. On the mouth. Dave is pretty sure he can hear the windows 97 dial up tone because good fucking god his brain is empty. Every single thought completely out the window. Back flipped gracefully out off the goddamn handle. The page leans back to look at him again.

[TG]: I gotta make sure I heard that right and I’m not like

[TG]: hallucinating big time or something

[TG]: like I gotta make sure I didn’t just die 2 seconds ago and I’m dreaming or something

[TG]: you what?

[CC]: well… I don’t think you’re dead anymor-

With said thoughts out the window like that he doesn’t even know where the hell he gets the idea to kiss him back, but it comes anyway and he does it. It feels so correct, like the powers of narrative causality nudged them towards this eventuality, like an inevitability. He feels hands come up to hold his face, one of them gingerly pulling his shades out of his hair and setting them aside, not that it matters. His own hands shift to rest tentatively at Percy’s sides and it feels like an overstep somehow, but the Page doesn’t seem to mind. He wishes that he didn’t need to breathe ever again, but they pull away from each other anyhow. Dave feels his nerves buzzing under his skin, his fingers fidgeting and tapping at Percy’s waist. They stay in each other’s space for a good moment, foreheads pressed together and breathing the same air, until something in Dave’s brain regains sentience again and hes fumbling with his arms like an idiot before he covers his mouth with a hand and avoids eye contact like the plague.

Percy laughs at him and honest to god its the single greatest sound he’s ever heard, the fucking ironic sound board air horns don’t even come close.

[TG]: wow

[TG]: cool

[TG]: cool cool cool

[TG]: uh sorry I guess I just had to double check

[TG]: that I hadn’t died or whatever

[CC]: well the results are in captain, you’re certainly still in front of me and quite monochromatic

If his face got any warmer he thinks its going to catch fire or something this is fucking ridiculous. He finally looks up at Percy over his hand still firmly pressed into his mouth, and despite the embarrassment he can feel himself grinning like the world’s biggest idiot.

They laugh again. Good god what he would give for a microphone and tape recorder.

[TG]: uh in case it wasn’t very clear

[TG]: I think I love you too

[TG]: or whatever

[TG]: well no not whatever just

[TG]: god this is so uncool of me

[TG]: I don’t have an ironic joke to make about this

[TG]: this is just pure unadulterated straight unfiltered inelegant brain rot

[CC]: well done Casanova really getting the message across.

The Page reaches out towards him again and Dave doesn’t waste a second enveloping him into another crushing hug. Without the hindrance of his shades in the way he fully hides his face into Percy’s hair, and not to be one of those weirdos, but he breathes in a deep sigh and savors the soft smell in his nose. He wishes he could bottle it up like a shitty cologne or something equally embarrassing.

They stay out there like that for what feels like forever, Dave’s pretty sure he could probably fall asleep like that. Its not until a familiar grating voice cuts through the moment like a katana from the fucking dollar store on a discount.

[TG]: for real man…

[TG]: the feeling is very mutual.

[TG]: like you have no idea…

With that Karkat turns on his heels and storms back inside muttering under his breath irately. The two of them take a moment to process what exactly he had just said before the sentences finally arranged themselves into some semblance of order and slammed true like a semi-truck. They burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, each clinging to the other for support before they can straighten up properly.

[CG]: THERE YOU ASSWIPES ARE I’VE BEEN TRYING FIND YOUR DUMB ASSES ALL MORNING

[CG]: ABOUT FUCKING TIME YOU GOT YOUR HEADS OUT OF THE PROVERBIAL FUCKING SAND AND SEALED THE DEAL ON THE MOST OBVIOUS FUCKING CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS CLICHE I’VE EVER GODDAMN SEEN

[CG]: NOW WILL YOU GET YOUR ASSES INSIDE? KANAYA SAID THAT ROSE IS DONE MAKING LUNCH AND I SURE AS HELL AM NOT WAITING FOR YOU TWO TO FINISH COPULATING OR WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE DOING I’M STARVING.

They untangle their limbs from each other and stand up, Percy handing back Dave’s shades as the Knight stretches and cracks his back. He slips them back on his face with a smile. His heart feels light for the first time in a long time. As they start to head back inside he finds himself reaching for Percy’s hand, a gesture that they reciprocate as they grab hold of his own. This is the single coolest thing in the history of ever. If he notices any of their meteor-mates staring no he doesn’t.

[CC]: I guess we should go huh?

[TG]: yeah

[TG]: wouldn’t want Karkat to have a fucking aneurysm waiting on us

#homestuck #oc x canon #self shipping #dave strider #tw suicidal thoughts #tw suicide attempt #tw sucidal ideation #tw death #i am cringe but i am so free #i hate gay people #homestuck oc #homestuck fankid #ignoring canon #its MY BITCH #smile :]

2 notes · View notes

xxbl00d-st4rxx · 24 days

Text

idk if this counts as a vent post but I wanna ramble about autism so if yall don't wanna read that do scroll. Also I swear I will get to posting about my transids but I realized I have no clue how many I actually id with so its taking a lot longer hehe (actual tw for mentions of fire if that's needed) Anyways, autism is wack right? Specifically accepting it. Our friends and I were out eating (it was part of a strip mall where all the stores are in one huge building and connected to each other) and in one of the stores a few blocks down the fire alarm went off which cause the alarms in the whole strip to go off (for the record it was a false alarm there was no fire everyone was fine). The last few times a fire alarm went off in a building I was already outside and decently far away, so it didn't affect me. This time though I was right next to the alarm and it felt like someone had just wacked me in the head. Previous to this I was at a sportsball game (I don't know what I was not paying attention I was just there for aforementioned friend) and there was this loud ass timer that kept going off randomly and put me on edge. I almost started crying when the alarm went off while we were eating, I was so focused on finding the source of the fire and keeping my ears covered I forgot that I had my headphones on and my friend had to remind me. They couldn't get it to go off until the broken one had been fixed so the alarm stayed on for a good half hour. That entire half hour I felt like I was working at 50%, I couldn't hear and I couldn't speak because I couldn't hear, I tried to ask the waiter for the fork and I just stopped halfway and couldn't get myself to continue so Friends Partner had to get me a fork, I could not eat until the alarm went off. I went back to normal after the alarm went off but I still can't get over it. I was never like that before I figured out I was autistic. Fire alarms- or ANY alarm for that matter had very little effect on me. But as I try and think harder I realize I was just masking over it. Isn't that just crazy! Everyday I learn about a new thing that my autism had something to do with. Everyday I see an experience I've hand change drastically from what it used to be just because I wasn't masking. I remember now everytime I would see a flash I would instinctively cover my ears and look around for the fire alarm, and if it was fine I would be terribly on edge until I was out of school. And god forbid it was somewhere else in public because then I was just on edge and scared. I used to like fire drills because we got to leave in the middle of class, and I do enjoy that still, but I think I was just pretending it was fine because if I enjoyed a part of it then that meant the whole experience was fine. But that's not true, Its ok and normal to be uncomfortable despite enjoying something, and I want all my autistics out there to do something they enjoy and don't mask even if your uncomfortable. And then go get comfey and reward yourself for doing that because its very difficult. ANyways- none of that made any sense I bet but I just wanted to rant ab this because it just is so weird to me how much an experience can change just because of a mask.

#autism #rq 🌈🍓#*✨ celestial hoard #*✨ starlight screaming #pro rq 🌈🍓#masking #neruodivergent #tw vent

3 notes · View notes

yanderemommabean · 2 years

Note

Are you okay?

I want to say yes, I really do, but the fights here are getting out of hand and violent to the point guns are being pulled and Sammy is being threatened to be put down by my grandfather just so he doesn't have to deal with the drama anymore.

This whole fight thing isn't about Sammy, it never was, it's about my abusive grandmother having control and being just under the legal radar enough that the cops won't do anything when they're involved. Video evidence or not the most we can try to do is assisted living or a mental facility for 72 hours but even then that isn't a guarantee.

She keeps saying "You're grand dad is gonna put that dog down and I'm gonna watch!" and "I'm gonna beat the shit out of you! I'm kicking you out! I want you out!" simply because she wants to hurt me.

I'm applying for dollar tree, waffle house, Walmart, all the jobs I can but there's the issue of 1) I don't have my own car and the city where the jobs are are like ten miles away so even if walking is what I had to do there's no way id arrive on time or be safe walking back. 2) every time I try to go to an interview she tries her best to make me late by either threatening me, blocking my way, saying asinine things that don't have anything to do with the situation and so on.

My mom is always on my grandmas side because in her eyes its easier just to give the woman what she wants, to the point they're upset I got the cops involved when she started to hit me. So, no support there. I have no IRL friends or family to stay with, as they're all states away and I don't have any money, not even enough for a diet coke at a gas station. Mom doesn't see this as abusive and me losing a very close companion, she thinks I'm being the issue by not just giving up and taking it. She even rolls her eyes when I tell her how hurtful things are becoming and how I'm becoming suicidal over this, and even told me when I said I'm going to disappear one day because of grandma "good we've been waiting".

When the cops are called, they laugh under their breath and don't take the situation as serious because my grandmother plays her part so well, and I'm currently trying to get ahold of the prosecutor to see if i can do an involuntary stay with her because she is technically a threat to herself and others.

I'm heart broken that by the time my grandfather shows up on labor day, he's going to keep his word and shoot Sammy, just because pacifying and coddling my grandmother is easier than telling her to shut the fuck up and quit acting psycho.

Sammy doesn't bite, doesn't make meses, doesn't even bark, all he does is want inside and to rest after being outside for hours. Grandma hasn't given me a reason as to why she hates him and wants him dead other than "I'm your grandma, you show me respect!'

I want to get out, but if jobs aren't gonna call me back so I can visit a friend in another state soon, I might just have to watch my dog die or get rid of him entirely simply because my family can never be on my side and tell my grandmother "No".

-Mommabean

#im in shambles #this hurts so much #anon asks #anon confessions are amazing #mommabean #i have no resources to go to #no money for an uber #no car to drive to a shelter #nothing #im stuck

108 notes · View notes