#Sorry I just need to get it out

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

The thing is I really fucking want to work. I joke about being self unemployed and all that but I don't know what to do with this free time and I'm terrified of what not being able to work means for me. At some point in a month or two I'm gonna try and get a part time job and I know it's gonna fall apart. But at least then I know. Know I'm fucking useless and will never make enough money because of this fucking body of mine. I'm trying so hard to be positive but this fucking sucks. I'm too disabled to work unless i have a miraculous recovery and at some point I'm gonna have to suck it up and apply for benefits and go through that hell.

I spent over a decade fighting depression, dyslexia, bullying and just a eduction system hostile to me, and I was so close! Despite everything I had suffered up till that point I was on track to get a great graduate scheme and work my way up an engineering company, but then all that was ripped from my hands. My friends got them, and I'm left behind. I was just as smart, as clever, as passionate, and I'm facing the liklihood that I can never work, more than maybe a very flexible short shift position after years of management and recovery. My life was ahead of me, but it's been fucking stolen from me.

[sylkana]

actual last update on the friend situation: we talked a little earlier because he wanted to explain things. he said he's been distant because of family stuff and he apologized for hurting me and i apologized for hurting him

i told him i was willing to just start over but he said he can't. he said that he didn't realize how much i cared about him and that he can't care about me that way because it's hard to care when you don't know if someone is going to be around down the line and he said he couldn't be a good friend to me and that i deserve better and that's that apparently

it hurts. a lot more than me just ending things. i'm annoyed because he's making decisions for me and because he's pushing me away. how is he supposed to have people that stick around if he doesn't let them? i feel like i caused this whole thing by being myself and caring too much and i feel like i'm not good enough

this sucks

[angeliclovebird]

currently in a restaurant over stimulated asf. my mom is trying to shove food down my throat but i feel way too sick to eat a full meal. i wanna die so bad. my bsf is now dating the guy from my situationship.

[risetherivermoon]

ppl dont talk about the fact that even Daisuke's characterization is affected by Jimmy's unreliable perspective. He refers to Daisuke as a spoiled rich kid who has his mommy and daddy behind him, that he's impressionable and stupid, and i do see people kinda characterizing him like that

like he has these rich parents who will dote on him and give him everything, that he's an airhead who isn't good at anything...

yet in curly's perspective we see that he's good at board games, he's trying his best, he's trying to listen to swansea and learn from him. He did get the internship from his parents but not because he wanted to, but because his parents thought he wasn't going anywhere in life, that he needed to be doing something. Daisuke is silly and a positive person but that's just for show, we see in the scene where Jimmy finds him lying on the floor drunk on mouthwash, that Daisuke isn't doing well, he's scared and feels sad about his parents. He makes jokes to cope with the horrible tension on the ship.

people characterize him as a stupid little kid too much for my liking, that's how Jimmy sees him. As a spoiled brat who came on the ship just to be an inconvenience. Even Swansea didn't see him like that, sure he complained about him but in Daisuke's final moments we see Swansea's true colors and how much he actually cares for him. He's an adult, who's putting on this happy go-lucky persona because he truly wants to succeed in life, and he's doing the internship for his mom and dad even though he doesn't want to. So he makes friends, he tries his best, he wants to be on the good side of everyone on the ship.

Jimmy just saw him as an easy target, someone too trusting and easily manipulated. A stupid kid he can use to get what he wants. He even plays with Daisuke's feelings of needing validation from Swansea, someone he looks up to. He tells Daisuke that by going in the vent, he'd make Swansea proud.

Daisuke isn't someone who has it easy or someone who's a stupid airhead. Jimmy just saw kindness and positivity as weakness.

[bigweldindustries]

going through the hades 2 stuff and im sorry but i just have to ramble a second because look at Hephaestus

he's not just a wheelchair user but also an amputee. an above knee amputee. wheelchair users are already next to nonexistant in video games but amputees exist in this really...disheartening? spot where they're pretty much just reduced to "person with a cybernetic limb" - it's always just somewhere from "just a cool visual design" to flat out "superpower". I can't think of a video game amputee that is actually disabled by their limb differences - I'm all for futuristic worlds where prosthetics and other disability aids are far advanced from what they are now, but that's not really what's implied by these designs. They're just... Cool designs that in no way reflect on the real-world experience of being an amputee.

Look at Hephaestus, though. Look at that prosthetic. Whilst stylised it very much looks like it functions like common mechanical knees - knee bends when thigh is lifted, knee straightens when thigh is lowered. He's a wheelchair user as well as a prosthetic user - every prosthetic user I know is also a wheelchair user as a prosthetic is not usable in every occasion and also cause exhaustion and pain if used constantly.

Whilst we can't see much of his wheelchair the position he's sat in and the wheels very much evoke active wheelchair to me - this carries on to very specifically the thickness of his arms. Whilst a lot of Hades designs are muscular Hephaestus has very noticeably thick arms - which makes sense, as active wheelchairs require a lot of arm strength.

Just overall this design is making me want to cry - he's not just an actual wheelchair user in a video game, he's a realistic depiction of an amputee, a disability usually brushed over in order to give a character a fun design quirk and nothing else. He's fat and he's hot and he's a realistic depiction of an above knee amputee. Oh my god. Oh my god?

[hotdogmchiggin]

Company Mandated Fancy Fits on the Tulpar 😏

Also had to include the REAL star of the show (and a bonus)

Based off of this and this. Thank you very much joetastic for being inspirational 👍

The REAL reason this is late

[michelle-jacksons-art-blog]

Maybe should've tried harder for that scholarship

[egophiliac]

bring your son to work day

[loserrofthecentury]

I think the funniest thing about the rhetoric that butchfemme is somehow heteronormative is that a lot of the things butches are called heteronormative for, men don’t even do.

[blondie-drawings]

Good lord this tomb is full of shitposts 😳😳 pt 1/pt 2

[zorangezest]

thanks for listening

[red-garden]

Shen Yuan is two things:

1) chronically ill

2) rich rich

He couldn’t count on both hands the number of health scares he’s had, but he fought years to move out of his parents house and live independently!

…. Until he was found half dead by his sister and nearly died in the hospital. No one even knew until she showed up.

The smart thing- the thing his parents want- would be to sell his apartment and move back in so his family can watch him. But frankly, Shen Yuan was reaching the end of his 20s. He didn’t want to be 30 in his parents home being scolded for buying yet another anime figurine and fussed over all hours of the day by nannies.

So, like the adults they were, they compromised. Shen Yuan could live independently IF he put together a complete staff of live in specialists to help him. He had a few months to do so, and all had to be thoroughly background checked.

Which is how he ended up with an old estate filled with specialists who all bore striking resemblances to the cast of Proud Immortal Demon Way.

(SY endears himself over the course of months to the entire modern cast of svsss and collects them to live with him and be generously financially supported. Additionally he finally tracks down the hack author of PIDW and keeps him as well, taking away the financial strain so PIDW can achieve its true potential as art.)

[somerandomcockroach]

I have a headache because of MOMU (from 72th chapter) (Also will link this art by Kef because for god's sake my brain took angles from here)

[yudol-skorbi]

all i can think about since i first saw new Dorian look is that every time Orym looks up to talk to him first thing he sees is just pair of naked blue tiddies with medium sized nipples

[tubbytarchia]

I told you I never stop thinking about merpearl

[heavenbarnes]

need our simon to come home from deployment IMMEDIATELY 🫶🏼 | p1 p2 p3 p4

your older bf!simon comes home from deployment at dinner time on a tuesday.

herb alpert on the kitchen radio, knife tearing through a bunch of parsley, garlic and onion simmering on the stove behind you.

simon can hear it- smell it through the mail flap.

smells like home.

your ears prick at the sound of the door swinging open, the hinges alerting you to a secondary presence. back tensing for just a moment before you hear steps you could pick out in a lineup.

he sees your fluffy slippers first, then your little shorts, then his t-shirt. finally, he’s met with wide eyes and the kitchen light hits the curve of your face so nicely.

simon could cry.

you already were.

“oh my god, si”

he doesn’t really want to touch you with his outside clothes, tactical gear smelling like the back of a cargo plane and you’re so soft and lovely he’s afraid he might mess it all up.

but there’s nothing stopping the way you leap at him across the kitchen and swing your entire self around him and he’s forgetting what he’s wearing and he’s wrapping his arms around you like he knows you won’t break.

his tongue is immediately in your mouth and he’s taking one gasping breath and filling his nose with the scent that’s overwhelming him.

simon realises right then that the house smells like dinner but you smell like home. you are home. he’s home.

when he finally lets you let him go you’re telling him to leave all his gear by the washer and you’ll sort it all out tomorrow but right now he needs to sit down so you can feed him.

he’s back in the kitchen with a sweatshirt and shorts on and he’s never found his own clothes so comfortable. maybe it’s because he can smell you on the fabric.

you’d only been cooking enough for one but at this point, you’re so happy to have him home that you’re plating up the whole thing for him as he sits at the dining table.

his chair scrapes back along the floor and he’s patting his thigh, simon eats his tea with you curled up in his lap telling him everything he’d missed.

apparently, old-mate next door broke up with his missus and it was quite the scene.

apparently, they finally finished the roadworks on the junction at the end of your street and there was no longer a blur of orange cones on the drive to work.

apparently, there was going to be a barbecue at the house down the street and the two of you were invited. you might make a salad to take with.

you could’ve been reading him the phonebook and simon would be a happy man. his hand was holding under your thigh and your face was in the crook of his neck.

he was home.

dishes done (together) and tea steaming on the coffee table in front of him, simon isn’t sure this couch has ever been this plush. he could melt into it, as long as it was just like this.

bare feet up on the ottoman and one arm wrapped around your side as your head lay against his chest. you could hear his heartbeat and he could hear the football you’d recorded for him whilst he was away.

deployment was fucking rough, seen and done things he didn’t even want to think about. but this is what he comes home to.

you.

you who curls up in his lap and idly twirls the drawstring of his shorts round your finger.

you who offered up all of your food to him to fill the pit that’d been growing in his stomach over the weeks.

you who couldn’t give less of a fuck about the football on tv but watches in quiet contentment for the sake of being closer to him.

you who doesn’t ask once about what happened while he was away but will always listen without judgement if he needs to get something off his chest.

ideally, simon would like to give you the world in return. then again, he doesn’t think even that’d be enough.

instead, he takes you up to your shared bed and, miraculously, he doesn’t fall asleep as soon as his back touches the mattress.

he could, very easily, but instead he pulls you down on top of him and gets his lips back on yours. the kiss when he came through the door had been passionate but it’d been fleeting.

simon had kept it like that, knowing if he spent a second longer with your tongue on his then he’d have you over the kitchen bench and that wasn’t what he wanted.

really, he wanted this. the full weight of you on top of him and your hips rolling messily against his as his hands went up underneath your his shirt.

he wanted to run his fingertips along your bare back and feel skin so soft he almost couldn’t remember the things his hands had done just last week.

he wanted to map out every spot, every freckle, every ridge across your shoulders and commit it to memory so the next time he had to up and leave he could trace you like a constellation in the night sky.

truthfully, simon didn’t want to leave next time. he wanted to get the call from price and tell him that he was sorry but he couldn’t do it any longer. he now had something- someone to live for and he just couldn’t gamble odds like he used to.

he wasn’t entirely sure he’d still hold the sentiment on the other side of blowing a load so simon put those thoughts in the back of his head and decided he’d work them out on tomorrow morning’s run.

right now, simon felt the soft skin of the inside of your cheeks and your spit tastes like the nectar those gods harped on about and he’s pulling hard on your hips as he rolled something hard between them.

you were moaning, whimpering, whinging into his mouth while you ground yourself into the hard line of his cock. raging erection didn’t even cover it and his head was tipping back as a-

yawn, deep and all consuming broke from his throat.

simon was fucking knackered.

exactly what he didn’t want to happen was happening in front of him, you were sitting up and cooing at him so fucking sweetly.

“si, you’re exhausted- we’ll go to sleep”

strong grip around your waist was anchoring you to the spot so you couldn’t climb out of his lap like you were currently trying.

“sweet’art”

you could hear it in his voice, he couldn’t even lift his head off the pillow. you conceded, however, letting him rub soft little circles into your hips.

“jus’ gimme’ one and then we’ll sleep”

laying back down against his chest, you felt the air woosh out of him as you relaxed your body on his. face fitting into the crook of his neck like you were made for him (you were) with a hand running along his collarbone.

“we’ve got tomorrow”

you knew it was futile, he was already slipping your shorts to the side. head tilting just a little to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“and i need you tonight”

settled.

you felt one large hand lift you up as his other freed his cock out his shorts. just enough, just enough to get the job done because any extra effort was going to render him unconscious.

bringing a hand to his mouth, he spit in his palm quickly before rubbing it along the head of his cock. deep groan rumbled beneath you as you felt him pressing against your entrance.

“lift y’top up, sweet’art- wanna’ feel y’on me”

you did him one better, leaning up enough to slip the shirt over your head and onto the floor. forcing him to hold his arms up for just a second, you pulled his sweatshirt off and discarded it in the pile.

bare chest to chest, you could feel simon shudder beneath you. snaking one arm under his armpit and the other around his ribs, you snuggled in tight as you felt him slip right in.

that’s all he wanted.

weeks of photos, videos, imagination to go off of. this was all he ever wanted. you so close to him that it was entirely possible to imagine the two of you as one. that there was no version of reality without you together in it.

lazily rolling his hips up into you as you met him halfway, rolling yours back down to share half of the load. simon’s arms wrapped around your back, keeping you close and keeping you moving against him.

“sorry love, s’not gonna’ be a long one”

you could only respond with a whimper, gently nodding your head into his neck as your lips press soft little kisses into the skin. you didn’t need a long time, you just needed him.

unable to help yourself from noticing the couple new scratches he’d come home with, your fingers idly traced along them as he sucked in a breath at the feeling.

what you wouldn’t give to keep him home and keep him safe.

a thought for another day as you felt yourself constricting around his cock, grinding yourself into his lap as firm muscle rubbed against your front.

tiny little gasps flitted from your mouth and into his ear, you could feel his body tensing up beneath you. it wasn’t just with sheer tiredness, you knew this man like the back of your hand.

left hand coming out from under where you’d buried it behind his back, you ran the tips of your fingernails down simon’s chest. you stopped at his nipple, gently scraping along the peaked flesh until you heard him.

“need y’to cum right now f’me please”

slipping your other hand between the two of you, you let your fingers wander against yourself until you could feel the tide breaking in the pit of your stomach.

body clenching involuntarily, your mouth dropping open against his skin. no doubt drool pooling against his collarbone as you came with a pathetic whimper. hips bucking a little crazy in his lap as his hand ran the length of your back.

“god that’s it, sweet’art”

simon went rigid, gripping you tight like you might go somewhere as the dams broke and he filled you up. hot and sticky and dripping out of you and onto the waistband of his shorts.

he fell so still the only way you’d know he was still alive was the rise and fall of his chest beneath you. his arms were already starting to fall limp around you.

coming back from the bathroom, slipping off the rest of your clothes and adding them to the pile. simon wasn’t asleep, there were no snores, but he had been rendered totally immobile.

pulling the remainder of his clothes off for him and settling in beside, you pulled the sheets up over the both of you as his arm began drawing you in.

draped across him, you could feel his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

“m’gonna’ rock y’world in the morning”

you snorted a little laugh, nuzzling in closer as his breathing starts to even out. no use in replying, snorings about the only answer you’re going to get.

not that you’d mind.

he was home.