#and I got to learn so much from the whole process!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
rosetyler42 · 21 hours ago
Text
For Ericka Van Helsing:
A. Possibly not in so many words, but she gets the gist. She probably more thinks of, like, Pavlov's Dog than her brand of conditioning, but she's got the basic idea.
B. Kind of, yes. She's got YEARS of anti-monster racism, anxiety, hero complex, and repression to unpack and unlearn. Her biggest thing is the anti-monster racism, since that almost led to alot of people DYING and she now has a family of monsters, but she's trying to learn to relax and enjoy her new found freedom too.
C. It's a big drive for the more rebellious, mischievous, and adventurous part of her nature. She's both trying to figure out who SHE is outside of her expectations as a Van Helsing, as well as learn more about the world she was sheltered from - especially what things about monsters she's learned are true and what isn't. It's also a big reason she's less judgemental ("Hey, I'm in NO position to judge ANYONE. I was an accomplice to GENOCIDE and attempted murder 5 times! Whatever you did couldn't POSSIBLY be worse than THAT!") and she loves to push boundaries and see just what she can get away with - remember, she's a rich kid who resented being held to high standards and expected to follow strict rules her whole life and now is looking to indulge herself as much as possible. And more willing to give people who TRULY WANT to get better a second chance. After all...she used to be a hateful killer herself until someone showed HER kindness. She's also learned the best way to learn about someone is to befriend them and get them playing rather than studying or hating them.
However, as bouncy and optimistic as Ericka tries to be...it's a little harder to shake the idea that whatever she does, however much she tries to be better... there's a part of her that'll always be a bigoted, homicidal and genocidal maniac, the guilt she carries of the things she and her family has done, and the fear she could easily relapse and turn into Great-Grandfather in some way. Not only disappointing her new family but costing innocents their lives in the process. One of her biggest worries with the twins is both not loving them enough since their half monster AND treating them coldly because HER parental figure was strict and cold. She wants them to know their loved and for them to have freedom. But Drac and Mavis turned into Vlad and Drac without even trying. Can she really hope to be any different?
questions for conditioned characters
A) do they know what conditioning is? B) do they understand that they've been conditioned? C) how does this understanding, or lack thereof, affect their perception of themselves?
72 notes · View notes
wannabanauthor · 20 hours ago
Text
Since I’ve had more time to process the breakup and have read fellow shippers’ thoughts, I can see why Tommy decided to end the relationship.
Although I have no faith in the writers or Tim anymore, they can turn this around if they choose to.
And here’s how:
So the breakup scene makes sense through a PTSD lens. And I’m talking just about PTSD in general, not army related.
When you’re dealing with a PTSD episode, until it’s over, there is very little anyone can say or do to get you out of it. Your brain will not listen because it’s stuck in a loop and you can’t get out until it lets you.
Breathing techniques work, but the amount of emotions and nonsense you say will not let up until it runs its course. I’m speaking from experience, but I can’t say much about it because lawyers, etc.
Once it’s over, the amount of guilt you have for all the horrible things you said or did will hit you hard.
So for Tommy, he was fine until Buck asked him to move in with him. Tommy’s smile dropped instantly and he went into panic mode. It escalated when Buck mentioned engagement and marriage.
I think it’s possible a mixture of guilt over Abby and past experiences with other queer newbies, that set him off into a PTSD spiral.
Buck unknowingly hit a trigger(s), and Tommy instantly shut down.
That conversation went from Abby to moving in, and it was completely out of left field. There was no real buildup to it from Buck. He just asked Tommy and made this sort of people-pleasing speech. Instead of tackling the actual problem, Buck just went straight for progressing their relationship to another level.
Tommy’s guilt and past heartbreak flared up, and he probably thought he was back in that mental space after he broke up with Abby and dated someone and thought they would be forever, but it didn’t work out.
So he starts saying things like he can’t move in because Buck’s still new to his sexuality. He’s picking up the signs that he’s seen in previous relationships that obviously didn’t work out, and he got scared and panicked.
He really liked Buck and didn’t want them to go the same route as his past relationships where he either was the newbie or dated a newbie and thought it would be forever.
He’s stuck in the spiral and can’t see a way out because he’s terrified of getting his heartbroken if things don’t work out. So he ends the relationship and leaves. It doesn’t make sense to the audience or anyone else, but if you look at it from the PTSD perspective, it does make sense. Again speaking from personal experience.
Now am I saying this was intentional from the writers and Tim? No, not at all. They’re not smart enough for that. At least I don’t think they are. Only future episodes will confirm or deny this.
Now how to fix it:
Tommy has an emergency appointment with his therapist. He’s going to need it before and after the PTSD episode is over. The guilt and heartbreak from ending things with Buck is going to hurt him a lot. Especially since he called Evan “Buck” right after breaking up with him. He didn’t even realize that he ended things until Buck asked.
Once the episode is over, he’s going to need to process the whole relationship all over with the therapist and figure out where to go from there.
It’ll take him a few weeks maybe less/more before he reaches out to Buck to talk. It’ll be a reverse image of their coffee date, with him making the first step to mend things.
I think they could get back together and work it out, but they’d need to take a few steps back and probably go into couples counseling. Buck would also need his own therapist because he still needs to process being bisexual and actually using the word.
If they get back together, I can see them starting from the beginning again and progressing extremely slowly. Buck needs to learn not to rush into things. Even though he likes Tommy so much, he definitely was not thinking clearly when he asked Tommy to move in. There wasn’t even a natural transition in the conversation. It’s like Buck was having the conversation in his head and spoke out loud, which is a common adhd trait.
Tim Minear and the writers could get a few seasons content out of BuckTommy if they wanted even with how things ended in 8x06.
Now do I think this was the intention? Nope. The breakup seemed rushed and abrupt, and for all we know Tommy is gone forever. We can’t trust any interviews from anyone, so I have very little hope that Buck and Tommy can come back from this. I don’t trust the writers or Tim.
So there, I managed to cobble together some explanation for the breakup.
18 notes · View notes
firebound-press · 2 years ago
Text
Introducing, my main project for binderary! This one is actually two fics that I combined into one book, Twist Me and Turn Me, and Ad Infinitum, both by @enlacinglineswrites. Since their copy arrived today, I figured now would be a good time to post pictures!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
At first I had been going back and forth between combining the fics vs binding them separately, since they’re both around 70k words, but I eventually decided to go ahead and combine them, and I’m very very glad I did. Not only does it work really well thematically, it also allowed me to try a bunch of new techniques!
I’ll admit I’m still so fucking proud of how this project turned out. I knew that I wasn’t going to have time to make a bunch of books during Binderary, so I decided to instead try and learn as many new techniques as possible for this one. And so I did!
First off, this was my first ever attempt at rounding and backing a book, and while it may not be perfect, it still turned out super good in my opinion. I also got to try making my own paperless bookcloth, which was very fun! And then I decided to go ahead and buy a foil quill pen, because why the fuck not! So I got to make a pretty shimmery spine!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
For the typesetting, I wanted to try to incorporate the idea of mirrors as much as I could, because it’s a very prominent theme in one of the fics, and it ended up being very applicable to the other one as well!
You can read the original works here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/33743839/chapters/83874298
164 notes · View notes
fuckyeahisawthat · 3 months ago
Text
Forever thinking about the ten-minute war-documentary-style long take of the aftermath of the attack on Sietch Tabr, only a few seconds of which made it into the final cut of Dune Part Two.
Tumblr media
Image: text from page 214 of The Art and Soul of Dune: Part Two. The text reads:
MELTING ROCK
Before the Atreides atomic arsenal is deployed, another Harkonnen attack on Arrakis further fuels Paul's desire for revenge. It's the point of no return. As he awakens to the sound of explosions, he realizes that Sietch Tabr is being bombarded. This scene echoes the extermination of House Atreides in Part One, with newly designed bombers destroying everything in their path.
What's left of the Fremen people after the air strike is heartbreaking. Wounded survivors seek refuge at the Cave of Birds, where Paul finds Stilgar heavily injured. "We'll have sixty-five to seventy Fremen, wounded families, all civilians," Denis noted in preparation for the scene. The ailing refugees within the cave were filmed in one continuous sequence that lasted ten minutes. "The extras were trained and had rehearsed what to do," recalled Denis. "On 'action,' everyone launched into the scene, creating a maelstrom of pain and chaos, through which Greig improvised shots to capture the intensity, as a war photojournalist would do."
To escape the Harkonnens' wrath, the Fremen flee to the south. And when Feyd-Rautha arrives at the Cave of Birds to witness the damage he has caused, he meets the only survivor who has chosen to stay behind and cover the retreat. Shishakli, who has killed nine Harkonnens with one single blade, will die like the birds, torched with a flamethrower.
22 notes · View notes
cartwheellou · 11 hours ago
Text
He looks so charming and curious! I can tell you put a lot of effort into the coloring, what with all the scale detailing. I think the scale patterns look very nice, especially on his face.
Digital art can be a very different beast from traditional. Sorry in advance if anything I’m about to say is obvious, or you’re already doing it. Theyre all things I didnt know to do when I started transitioning from traditional to digital art.
Sometimes, the lines you draw on the traditional version look great as is, but when you digitize it, it just feels so wonk. Treat your traditional drawing as a rough draft. Focus less on tracing the traditional art, and spend more time looking only at what you have digitized and going, ‘do i like how this looks?’ It can help you from, at the end of the process, from going, ‘why did it turn out like that?’ And if its still not working out, turn off the traditional art layer and try freehanding it.
Inverse advice, while still making sure you spend time zoomed out looking at the whole piece, zoom in to draw lines. Yes, even further. It will make your lines straighter and help you bend that curve in the direction you want it to go. Then you zoom out and check it looks like you thought it would. It will also help you add detail where you would otherwise be afraid to put it in a traditional piece, like adding lots of detail in a folded wing.
What drawing app are you using, and what hardware do you have access to? Its stupid how much my art improved leaps and bounds when I switched to a better app and got a second hand tablet instead of using my laptop trackpad (if you can, use literally anything besides a laptop trackpad.)
Explore whatever app youre using a little more. Find a different brush, or at the very least, change the brush thickness depending on what youre drawing. It can be nice to have big, bold lines around the edge of the form, or to define his head from his body, but they suddenly seem clunkier when detailing his wing shoulder. A brush that changes thickness based on pressure is great for that, but again, just making the brush smaller does the trick too. The smaller brush will also help make added detail feel less clunky.
And whatever you do, dont berate your artistic skill if you dont like your digitized stuff. Its a different skill that you havent built yet. I can tell from this drawing that youre a good traditional artist, and you can be a good digital artist as well (after a series of what feels like failures but is actually just part of a learning process). Most of the stuff that Id pick on in this drawing are the product of unfamiliarity with digital art, and not having access to a tablet with a great drawing app and a pressure sensitive stylus. You can do great digital art without it, but it is harder and it does restrict your style.
Once you feel comfortable with it, try drawing something digitally without uploading a traditional rough draft. I actually found it a little easier!
I did a traditional drawing a few weeks ago and I decided to turn it into a piece of digital art :D
I would really appreciate some advice on how I could improve this :)
Tumblr media
(yes I know he isn't grey idk what I was doing)
39 notes · View notes
dimiclaudeblaigan · 2 years ago
Text
I can't believe it's been a week without Little Man... When he first came home he was so happy and excited. He would play for two to three hours straight. He loved his food time but then he would go back to playing, with naps in between before his regular nighttime sleep.
Seeing him decline from that to never playing, always starving and wanting food because of his illness (the poor thing had no fat at all to keep him warm by the end...) and otherwise just sleeping really hurt. It hurt even more to see him after a deworming process want to play. He was attentive and alert, and when he heard his toys he would look with wide eyes like he wanted to play, but he was in too much pain to be able to.
During the deworming we had to keep him separated from my other cat, so he was in another room and we visited him throughout the day (and night) repeatedly and spent long periods of time with him. At night that room would get a bit cold because of its size, and sometimes I'd go in there and it was cold and I was worried he was also feeling cold... but recently I realized he really probably was because he had no fat to retain his body heat. I'm so glad I put a little blanket over him on his bed and tried my best to keep him warm. I would keep my door open so the heat could get out and keep coming back on or just stay on so it would heat up the room he was in.
His real name was Cumulus because my mom named him after that type of cloud, but I started to call him Little Man and it stuck. He knew that was what I called him, too! He started to respond after a little while!
By the end he could barely eat or even meow because it hurt to move his mouth. His jaw must have been deteriorating, and we were told his gums looked terrible. When he did eat, he could only eat wet food and even that was hard. We would hear a hard crunching sound when he ate wet food, so I'm pretty certain something was very wrong with his jaw. That was why he was always so hungry at the end - he couldn't eat enough to sustain himself.
We only had him for two months but he was so happy, sweet and precious before that illness really started to kick in. It's hard losing a cat, but it's even harder losing a five month old kitten who had so many years of life left to live. He was so sweet and playful that I can't believe how fast his illness destroyed his body from the inside out. He was bright and loving and he didn't deserve what happened to him.
Frankly, I do put some blame on the guy who sold him to us. He claims to be a rescue operation and that's fine, but he knew the mother was sick and didn't make it, yet he didn't think to check for dangerous illnesses on this cat or his sister who was adopted at the same exact day and time as he was? When we adopted him, we've now realized he was showing at least three signs of his illness already (breathing speed, heat/temperature and wobbly eyes that he often couldn't keep still). He had other issues so we didn't know what was wrong until the day the vet did an ultrasound and said he wasn't going to make it to a year old even with medication.
Imo the guy who runs that business should know the signs of illness in a cat. If you work in that profession you should know what to look out for - especially if the mother was sick before giving birth. As the shelter, it's his responsibility to know the signs and take care of health issues before adopting out. His negligence and lack of knowledge/awareness cost my family a lot of heartache and many vet bills of us just trying to find the problem. If you're working in a field with animals and adopting them out to others as a business, for the love of fuck, know all the details involved in your profession. I understand he rescues cats from kill shelters which is wonderful, but he takes in sick cats as well but then somehow doesn't notice the signs of them or their offspring being ill? It makes me think he didn't interact with them enough to notice, so again - negligence. If anyone knew what the kitten had, they might have been able to save him by medicating him before any damage could truly be done to him. Unfortunately the medication is not yet legal and is essentially on the black market and can cost thousands of dollars that we couldn't afford, but god I would've started a fundraiser to save his life if we had known. This sweetheart did not deserve the pain and suffering he went through.
I'm sad and I'm angry at this man's lack of awareness. If you're going to adopt out cats, know that you're adopting out a sick cat or potentially sick cat so you can inform and warn the adopters. "I never would've sold you a sick cat if I had known" isn't going to cut it. You should know if that's your business. That knowledge could've saved this kitten's life, or even just helped him to get on medicine to make his last months painless.
I miss you, Little Man. I love you so much. I hope we gave you the best life you could've possibly had in the time that you had. I hope all the craziness and play and love was just how you would've always lived your life. You were too sweet and you should've never had to be taken from us that young.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
8 notes · View notes
alloutshirt · 1 year ago
Text
disclaimer : this is a personal life vent look away
shouldn’t be sharing this but i need to take it off my brain (wow reading it back it really sounds like i lost my mind but unfortunately it’s all true and not all of it fits in 30 tags lmaooo)
#because at this point it’s too funny not to share#keep in mind that all of this happened in the last two months 😭#so my dad wants to introduce us to his new gf who he met barely two weeks ago on holidays and will now move in and look for a job here caus#she’s from romania and wants to stay ?????#i know because my dad asked me to clear my room so she has one which okay i guess#my room that’s currently full cause we had to get the stuff we stored at my grandparents following my parents breakup as they’re themselves#getting a divorce after 60 years together and selling the family home we all grew up in#this happening because my grandma got diagnosed with alzheimer n my grandpa so this as an escape door to talk about her being violent#cause breaking news we all looked up to them as the inspiration for a couple but apparently she’s been abusive their whole life#we also just learned to our last name should be different as my grandpa never knew his dad and too his mothers name#all of this we learned having to question our aunt cause we found out by randomly seeing to house on selling website and our dad just sayin#'sometimes people aren’t in love anymore' like we’re 5 yo#i don’t think my dad ever processed any emotion#taking it back to my dad he wants to introduce us on the 16th which funny thing is the day my mom is getting married to her partner#and im still not sure if my dad knows#marriage that makes me sicker the closer it gets cause the guy is a walking red flag and lately i haven’t seen my mom that much#cause i can’t stand him and how she is when he’s around#which he always. is.#oh and his daughter who hasn’t talked to him in years and truly i get it sis will be here but everyone knows#it’s to ask him for the money he doesn’t have again#so im torn but also i up she makes a fuss and everything gets cancel so i don’t have to talk to my mom about how she’s doing exactly#what she promised to never fall for again after finally ditching my dad#and like at least my mom’s side is out of the equation as there’s probably still a murderer on the loose looking for her sicko sister#who herself threatened my mom several times cause my mom dared calling her out on abandoning her disabled daughter to live#with their parents for twenty years and still now with them nearing 80 being sick and broke cause they never made it official and she’s#still the one getting money support lmaooo#oh how could i forget im also staying at my dads cause my big sister moved back with my mom and took my room#following her breakup with her bf of 4 years when she caught him cheating with a 16 years old#oh and now some of my best friends are still deliberating wether they ever wanna talk to me again#this could be fine if i could cry **** *** and dissociate but i no longer have my own room :) being so so brave rn :)
1 note · View note
archaeren · 5 months ago
Text
How I learned to write smarter, not harder
(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)
A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.
The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.
As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!
Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!
2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)
Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.
Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.
I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.
Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!
This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.
As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.
When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD
People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.
What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!
What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.
You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.
And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.
And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.
If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?
And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD
In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.
Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.
Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)
And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)
26K notes · View notes
exopelagic · 3 months ago
Text
talking to him more very much achieved. we just talked for like 4 hours in the kitchen holy shit I need to sleep
#I went into the kitchen to wash up wanting it to be a few minutes to get back to my parents by he came home at the same time#unsure what just happened honestly! as in I’m not sure what is going on from his end of the interaction#because I have never met anyone who would just do that before. like four hours straight when before we’d talked for periods of idk 10minutes#and he WAS engaged the whole time#granted he spent a significant amount of time talking. he talked far more than I did which is often the case but Im not sure how I felt here#I think he gets excited abt individual topics and. gets carried away is the wrong word but he gets absorbed in it#he spent a while talking me through the very complex maths he’s been doing recently#(he studies maths. also abt to start masters.) and was assuming a much stronger mathematical background than I have but I understood a bunch#he IS very good at explaining things and I was interested to a point but unfortunately I was not going to ask about individual theorems and#shit like that at 11pm. it was still super interesting I’m not downplaying that but I didn’t know half of what he brought up#there was basically no way I was going to understand much more than the vague concept anyway#anyway! also extremely into food. especially into traditional chinese cooking which is cool as fuck and I now know so much more abt food#I have never personally cared much at all about food. I enjoy when taste good and I enjoy cooking. he’s into the precision cooking#that he told me apparently Chinese and French food is the best in the world at. meant to be amazing at going for specific effects#oh he came back from a musical! apparently abt a woman with bipolar that was on in London I might check what that was. next to normal#cried 7 times. apparently he’s super into stories with that kinda emotional payoff. started telling me later abt tokyo animation#priest if you’re already seeing this I WILL be asking you abt it later but pls tell me whatever. he likes clannad and sound euphorium#bunch of others but those are the ones he talked most abt and started tearing up when he played me a song from clannad where the baby’s born#so I think biggest things I’ve learned are that he’s impressively in touch w his emotions (further damaging the straight guy case)#regardless it’s just nice to talk to a guy who talks abt stuff so openly it’s very refreshing#unsure how cultural differences factor in here. I would’ve expected it to go the other way but possible this is a degree more normal#and he’s very very academically minded. he learned Japanese bc was bored after high school and is doing a WHOLE lot of extra maths for fun#socially definitely very competent he’s very good at talking but a little more focused inward.#definitely did not notice the (admittedly extremely gentle) flirting throughout like when I complimented his bracelet#(this cute gold year of the rat thing his mum got him)#so yeah. was very fun talking to him. will process this for a while#I think this has definitely established that we could be friends if either of us pursue that after summer which is very cool!! will see#luke.txt
0 notes
indefiniteavatar · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
So basically, in a case about him shoving money at someone so they shut up about him. . .he can’t shut the fuck up himself. I would say something clever and funny here, except the sad part is that this is just so normal in current politics that it’s just. . .not hilariously absurd behavior anymore? Not to say that it’s not absurd - it is beyond such, but it is just. . . predictable, I suppose.
I guess this is how I feel about politics lately? Either I get mad at everything or I try to laugh at everything and normally that works because politicians usually aren’t so tragically stupid so very often, but now I just kinda have to chuckle at the particularly eyeroll worthy things like this, and try to ignore everything else or my brain will explode.
#maybe that’s my biggest pet peeve about the current state of politics#Normally I like having discussions with people#of various mindsets and lifestyles and backgrounds#while my personal standpoint about many if not most political things is pretty solid. I also enjoy finding out more about things.#It’s always nice to learn more about things.#when it gets to a point like this or let’s be real-a point like where it got a few months ago when. More like a couple years ago honestly#There’s just so much. Too much. And two try to process all of it especially in a way such that one keeps up with useful discussion? oof.#I know I meant to do something else in these tags – something more specific – but at least on mobile#I just lost like three tags because the one I was working on hit 140 but when I was warned#I didn’t get to backspace or anything. I just kind of deleted the whole thing.#And in my confusion and attempt to undo what I had done#I managed to backspace a couple times and lose the finish tag above that one#and of course my first attempt at explaining that I had lost two tags turned into three tags because#I lost the first attempts that said two tags because it went over and yet again my attempt of not backspace this time#I just lost another two tags and then at this point I don’t even remember where I was going with this train of thought either#tl;dr: I wish I could take as much amusement from this as I want to but I can’t because shit like this is just so fucking normal#but hey it’s better than January 6 or trying to nuke a hurricane so I suppose I can live with it#right so I realize that I got to read all of the things I just typed in the page before this#so I did and while I have a laughable amount of nowhere near the fuck enough spoons#there’s a very good chance I am going to come back to this when I get on my iPad or PC#There’s also a very good chance I’m going to completely forget this post exists if not the app entirely#but given that I finally downloaded this on my actual phone instead of my tablet for the first time in years#And I just lost another fucking tag#this time naturally it had to be one with Contant that I remember as semantically important#but similarly naturally of course I don’t bloody well remember#right so I am going to go back to the stuff I was doing now cause I was doing stuff before I saw a Tumblr notification#which I didn’t actually look at at the time but but I can absolutely be sure that it was a hefty part of the reason why#when I found something that I wanted to post about and a context that had a larger audience and not just individuals#didn’t have FB/Reddit (tho lbr I would probably have a 6 foot nose if I tried to imply they were great social networks)#which goes back to seeing the tumblr notif & still having a big Nostalgia so. hi here i am
0 notes
pomefioredove · 7 months ago
Text
now I'm actually invested in this idea. maybe I'll write a full length fic someday idk... for now I have short hcs
parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending
summary: crowley decides to "give away" yuu to the highest "donation" for financial reasons type of post: headcanons characters: all nrc students additional info: can be read as platonic or romantic, except malleus is pretty romantic, second person pov, yuu is gender neutral, maybe a little ooc I wrote this as soon as I got up
crowley has had his fair share of "what the fuck" moments from you but this was really taking the cake
he acts so... casual about it?
swaggers into ramshackle one morning and says times are tough and your personal expenses are straining the budget so he's decided to "put you in someone else's care"
"The screening process will be vigorous to make sure you end up in good hands!" like you're a cat or something "Your expenses will be covered and you'll have somewhere to go during break!"
okay great. pretty obvious you have no say in this, so you don't even argue. what's the worst that could happen?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel find you the next day to say they're pooling their money to buy you
"To what?"
Epel shrugs. "Oh, well Crowley said we need to offer a donation to prove we're capable of supporting you..."
(you think that if not for the laws of this land you would have slaughtered that old fart)
Jack goes on a really long tirade about how shady and underhanded this is, making sure to reaffirm that he believes you should be free to make your own choices
"So you'll let me go once you get me?"
"Uhhh..."
Ace thinks once they buy you you'll have no choice but to do all of his homework for him
Deuce says that's not really how it works- and even if he tried, Riddle would kill him
(they've already gone over this twice before finding you)
Epel happily volunteers to take you home with him over breaks, probably the only positive in this mess
even if he thinks the whole thing is kind of funny
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Ace accidentally spills the plan to Riddle, who is understandably aghast
you can't just give away a person under your care like a toy!
of all the irresponsible things...
of course, he'll have to put up his offer, too
purely for your sake! with a nicer room and a brand new copy of the dorm rules, maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble
he's got some family money (doctors, naturally) and considers this a worthwhile purchase, for his sanity and yours
of course, Trey and Cater overhear and may or may not be pooling their own cash for a chance, too
going behind Riddle's back on this is a risky venture, but hey, someone's gotta be on your side, here, right?
I mean, between a bunch of sixteen year old boys, the housewarden, and them, who would you choose?
actually don't answer that
...not that it's much of a secret, anyway. Cater's already got their gofundme equivalent link in bio
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona initially plans to have you become a live-in lackey like Ruggie
but then he really starts thinking- and, hey, the possibilities are endless, right?
for one, you'd make a really good pillow
he might have to kick Grim out for your full attention, but you could learn to live with that
and malleus would hate it
...that's reason enough for him
plus, he's got money to burn, so why not?
either way, he sets his bid at a reasonable (maybe too confident) price and sits back to watch the chaos unfold as everyone scrambles for a piece of the pie
news travels fast around school, after all
then Ruggie finds out that you could dethrone him as Leona's #2 and is understandably a little annoyed
that's his cushy post-grad job gig, thank you! he's worked hard for that!
besides, why should Leona get to hoard you? the guy can barely take care of himself!
so, Ruggie ends up outsourcing to a few dozen classmates for the necessary funds at a steep I-owe-you price
he's gonna be eating nothing but dandelions for a while...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
now, Azul is annoyed
once the news goes school-wide, it's all anyone can talk about
talk about good marketing...
why didn't he think of such a brilliant scam? he could have negotiated with Crowley to have a café brand deal tie-in!
of course, he's already set his bid, with Jade and Floyd offering to pitch in as necessary
it's a risky investment, sure, but a worthwhile one
Azul tells everyone that with the prefect's "obvious" popularity, having them at the café a few nights a week would drive sales through the roof
though that's really just what he says to shirk suspicion
a likely excuse coming from him, though, really, it would just be nice having you around
and if not for his own affections, Floyd's incessant begging and Jade's subtly manipulative comments about "how nice" it would be having a new face around would be enough for him to cave eventually
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
"Kalim, no," is the first thing that Jamil says
"I strongly advise against this. It's another one of Crowley's silly scams and you could end up a target bec- are you even listening?"
hint: he is not
the second Kalim found out that he could get to take in his favorite magicless student like one of his treasures, he was all over it
(AKA infinite sleepovers)
and for what? a little optional donation to prove he's got the funds? he's got cash to spare!
he's already got your new room in Scarabia set up before he even puts his bid in
right next to his of course :)
and despite what Jamil insists, he himself might be working behind the curtain just a little to ensure he's the one who ends up with you
after all, why should Kalim get everything? this might be a valuable learning opportunity for him
You don't always get what you want
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
as much as Epel tries to keep the rest of his dorm from finding out, it's inevitable
he's actually a little surprised that the news didn't get to Vil sooner
with Rook around campus, surely he must have said something...
when Vil does find out, though, he just sighs
oh, of course. what next, will everyone meet each other in the arena and fight to the death over the prefect?
of all the silly, immature things...
oh? what's that? he's bidding anyway? of course he is, silly potato. he can't have some unwashed miscreant making you sleep on polyester bedding
(really, he's the only person on campus worthy of your time)
Rook has also been mysteriously absent from the dorm lately, though his initials on a poem and a strangely large sum of money end up in the donation pile
but really, that could be anyone... Rook would never dare betray Vil again, right?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ortho finds out directly from the other first years and sends Idia the details immediately
with a little note of encouragement, of course: "could be excellent for improving your social skills!"
Idia understandably freaks out
"WTF!!!! nooo way! this is a person, not a chatbot we're talking about here! I can barely keep virtual pets alive!!!!"
(liar)
(...but this is still different)
the conversation ends there, but semi-anonymous bid from someone named "gloomurai" gets cashapp'd directly to crowley
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
everyone in the room immediately turns to Malleus
"For the record, I think it's wrong to be bargaining over a human being," Silver says first. "But if anyone could handle it with grace, it's you."
Lilia laughs. "Oh, you're just saying that because you like the prefect so much!"
"Father, you're the one who likes the prefect so much,"
"Oh, right! carry on then. After all, I'm sure we could share,"
Sebek is the only one relatively against the idea, though Lilia luckily manages to get him to lower his voice after his third speech about how you aren't good enough for his liege
Malleus is rather quiet through the whole evening, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of the points made
he disappears for a short while, and when he comes back he seems a little more confident
though, of course, he goes to you first
seeing him at Ramshackle in the middle of the night is a familiar and welcoming sight after all of the chaos of your week
and he's in a great mood!
"Child of man! I've come with news," he says. "I have heard of your predicament and have come up with a solution!"
you immediately sulk. "Oh, no. You know I think this whole thing is terrible, right?"
"Yes, Silver mentioned you might not like the idea of being bought and sold like a trinket. But worry not, I do not plan on paying for you in money,"
you pause, at a loss for words, and then tentatively continue. "You're not...?"
"Of course not. What a primitive idea, I was baffled to hear it myself. My proposal will be more traditional: a modest sum of treasure, and a generous amount of livestock and the finest crop Briar Valley can offer,"
certainly he's not this naive, you think
"You really think Crowley is going to accept that over money? I'm pretty sure Kalim just bid away an entire country's worth,"
he laughs. "You speak as if this is some kind of business deal! I'm quite confident that my dowry will be best,"
huh. that was a strange way of putting it
but then again, you still didn't really understand how things work here, so you go along with it
and you allow yourself to relax. he seems confident in his offer, and he doesn't even see you as some kind of prize to win!
"Oh, well, alright. Thanks! I'm glad you're on it,"
he smiles. "Rest assured, child of man, you're in good hands. My dowry will far outshine the others, and the wedding will be even better,"
"I was honestly getting a little nervous for a momen- wait- wedding!?"
4K notes · View notes
silentwalrus1 · 4 months ago
Text
I like to think about what if the Kaminoans just, fucked all the way up and made the clones telepaths on purpose.
Kamino is in the Rishi maze, the equivalent of total buttfuck nowhere. This is like a cattle processing plant in rural Montana manufacturing an order for Shenzhen as outlined by a third party intermediary from Monaco who keeps contact with neither production nor “client” and nobody’s first language is Basic. Jedi are like, totally psychic right? Right. Psychic army for psychic clients, sounds right, checks out. There are whole ass telepathic alien species out there, some of which are also Jedi. Why would they want NON-psychic clones. Get it done, Tally Ho or Nala Says or whatever her name is. Chop chop.
Cue like seven years into production and the Kaminoan project leads are starting to get some… inklings…. that maybe some of the deliverable specs were perhaps not so much well-researched as based off cross-galactic hearsay some underpaid analysts pulled off space reddit. This is a business, okay? You’re not gonna make profit manufacturing two million units of fucking anything if you treat it like a luxury product, but especially not if the product has goddamn childhood development & socialization needs. Of fucking course some shit maybe slipped through the cracks. What are we supposed to fucking do now, Lama goddamn Sue sir, tell the Jedi or the pickled fucking Sith that oopsie woopsie, we got the specs wrong half a decade in and have to start over again?
No. No we are not. We are going to lie our fucking semi-aquatic asses off, is what we’re gonna do, and so will you clones if you know what’s good for you. NONE of you are fucking psychic, and you never were. Got that? Understood?
Fast forward to Jedi pickup D-Day and every time anyone with a lightsaber gets within aural biosystem of choice distance the clones immediately start loudly and dutifully Having Conversations.
Hello Commander Sir, It Is I, Trooper McSoldierClone, What A Weather It Is Today, Ha Ha? Over. Yes Indeed McTrooper One Two Three Four, I Am Agree, Now Here Is An Order To Follow Which I Am Vociferously Giving You, Acknowledge Orally, Over. Every clone making rock-hard sweating eye contact like don’t fuck it up as they mentally chant encouragement and script notes and jeering performance feedback at each other. Cadets trooping to fucking speech practice to learn speaking out loud with all the enthusiasm and skill of the average white suburban Floridian teenager taking their fifth mandatory Spanish 1 class. The jedi are like damn these poor asylum grown freaks are so unsocialized and uncomfortable around us, Their Owners, this is so tragic and horrid and unfortunate and meanwhile every clone standing silently in formation is mentally spectating the 400-person telepathic tetris team sport they invented with the same vibes as a football world cup back alley street party complete with official & unofficial betting pools and expert panel commentary
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 2 months ago
Note
Hotch request w Jack and new baby!!! Coming back from the hospital and reader is in bed with new baby and Jack while Aaron is in another part of the house (maybe making food in the kitchen) and reader starts crying because she’s in pain and jack is all concerned and sweet and goes to get Aaron??
thank you for requesting, sorry I messed up where everyone was! fem, 1.3k
“He’s gonna stab him!” 
You blink from the spot you’d been staring at, pain momentarily forgotten. “What! Where’d you learn that word?” you ask in surprise. 
Jack leans back against his big velvet pillow, blue with silver stars, looking as though he’s in the lap of luxury. “At school.” 
The cartoon mouse on the TV raises his fencing sword high in the air. 
“He’s not stabbing anyone, they’re fencing,” you say, reaching for his hand to hold. “Stabbing… that’s pretty scary. How did that make you feel?” 
“Well, I’m not gonna stab anyone,” Jack says. 
He’s confused that you’re making a fuss, just old enough to realise you’re poking around for his feelings. You worry lately that you aren’t paying him enough attention because of his new brother, and the word stab isn’t exactly age appropriate. 
But maybe that’s what the boys his age are talking about? You frown more, your hand slipping along his arm to curl behind him. You pull him toward you. “Come on, handsome. Cuddle me.” 
You’re too sore to move, so Jack has to come to you. He crawls across the couch until his arms can wrap around you and his cheek can rest against your chest. Stab is an apt word for the feeling in your stomach. Jack’s arm squeezes at you and the pain worsens, so you move it up your front and curl your arm around him. 
“Is it a bad word?” he asks. 
“No, it’s just like hit or slap, I guess. And I know you’re not gonna do any of that to anyone. You’re too gentle.” 
“Gentle is a good word.” 
“Yeah.” You kiss his forehead, a moment of self indulgence. You love your stepson, and he is oh so kissable. “Oh no, look at the mouse.” 
Charlie sleeps in his swing seat, the soft whirring of its constant motion almost as comforting as the sound of his soft breaths. You watch him for a while, Jack climbing up at your side to press his face to your neck, leg on your thigh, slowly pressing against the tenderness that is your abdomen. “Uh, Jack,” you breathe, trying to pick him up, “you’re gonna have to climb off of me, my tummy hurts too much.” 
“Sorry,” he says quickly, slipping off of you and onto the couch cushion. His foot kicks out as he rights himself, a jamming of his toes against the pain like a spike. 
You take a deep breath. Ouch. 
“It’s okay,” you say, groaning softly as the pain thrums, hand on your stomach as though your touch can make it stop, “just a tummy ache. I– I’m okay.” 
“You got little tears?” he says, his voice going wobbly. You try to blink away tears and end up with a straggler curving down the slope of your cheek. “I’ll go get dad!” 
“Jack, I’m okay,” you say. 
Too late. Jack scrambles from the couch and away from you, up the stairs to find his father. You’re not sure what Aaron’s up to, he’d only said, “I’ll be right back,” twenty minutes ago. You’d guessed laundry. 
You’re glad Jack’s run upstairs when you realise the pain isn’t going away. It’s not bad, not half as bad as your contractions had been, but the whole labour process has sapped you, and you feel weak as a willow branch in bad weather. You shift heavily onto one leg and cross them, uncross them when the pain spikes again, letting out a weird and breathless whine as it turns to a full blown cramp. 
Jack returns with Aaron in tow. His hair is dripping wet, soap suds on his neck and his shirt stuck to his chest. He’s rushed out of the shower to see you. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks as he rounds the couch. “Jack told me you’re not feeling well.” 
You hold your arms out for a hug. He doesn’t falter, simply does as you want, his hair wringing wet and dripping onto your shoulder as he gathers you in his arms. 
You hold onto him like a lifeline. The cramp curls, and tightens, has you seizing up against him. 
“What is it?” he asks softly. “Stomach pains again?” 
The nurse said it’s your uterus shrinking. Whatever it is, it’s sudden agony. You shudder into Aaron’s shoulder until the pain pangs and fades, leaving your stomach a tense mess. It hurts to move, so you stay clinging to your husband and let him hover over you. 
“Are you okay?” Jack asks.
You sniff. 
Aaron pulls away to take your face into his hands. He holds you with care, his thumbs under your jaw, index fingers running diagonally under each eye, tips at your brows. Just a stolen few seconds for him to check you over. No tears to be wiped away. 
“Still hurting?” 
You shake your head, eyebrows pulled down in a bad frown. 
“Okay. Alright. Motrin?” he asks. 
“No,” you whisper, “can you just stay here?” 
Jack says your name. 
You peek past Aaron’s body. “Jack, sorry.” 
“Are you okay now?” 
You grimace, “I’m gonna be fine, it just hurts sometimes and I didn’t have any medicine today. That’s all. Sorry, I scared you.” 
“You didn’t scare me,” he denies. 
You can’t help smiling, then. “Okay, I didn’t. Thanks for getting dad for me.” 
“He’s our hero,” Aaron says. He sits down beside you carefully, his voice quiet and his hand gentle as he holds your thigh. “I’m glad he did.” 
Jack climbs into his dad’s lap. Aaron wraps an arm around him, the other at your side, fingers tapping at you. 
You rub your forehead. Tip your head back and take a deep breath. 
“Jack,” you whisper, breathing out, “I’m sorry if I startled you. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” 
“It wasn’t scary, I said that already.” 
“Oh, you did?” Aaron teases. 
“It was okay, I just don’t want you to hurt.” 
“Only baby pains,” you say. 
For a few minutes, you and your small family sit there in silence. Aaron works a hand behind your back to hug you, Jack snuggles into his chest, and Charlie stirs in his swing seat. The quiet calms him, and he goes back to his soft snoring seconds later. 
“I’m sorry about your shower,” you whisper. 
“It’s okay. I’m sorry about my baby,” Aaron whispers back, drawing circles into your lower back, “he didn’t mean to chew you up.” 
“Ugh, I know.” 
Jack raises his nose. “What? Chew? Do babies bite?” 
“It’s an expression, babe.” 
“Oh.” He looks at his baby brother with suspicion anyways. “He doesn’t even have teeth?” 
“Buddy, it’s just a joke,” Aaron says, laughing as Jack slips out of his lap to go and look at Charlie in the seat. 
“Maybe he did have teeth,” you say. 
Aaron ushers you toward him, rests his cheek on your forehead. “It’ll feel better soon. You need to rest, that’s all.” 
“Your hair is so wet.” 
“I was in the shower.” 
“Sorry…” 
“Don’t be,” he says. “Don’t be.” 
You reach up to tousle his wet hair. “Miss showering with you.” 
“We showered last night.” 
“No, I stood there and you helped me wash my back, that’s not the same.” 
“Well, I enjoyed it.” 
“I bet you did.” 
Your fondness attracts many, many kisses, his nose nuzzling your cheek. You settle under the weight of him and watch Jack where he frowns at Charlie, big brown eyes squinted, waiting for a show of teeth that won’t happen. Aaron brings a hand to your tense stomach, waiting for you to lean back before he begins massaging the tensed muscle there with a slowness that borders unmoving. 
“Tell me if it hurts too much,” he says. 
“You can go finish your shower.” 
“I was finished. M’gonna start pressing in, okay?” 
You wince as Aaron begins, but slowly, slowly, the tenseness from your cramp softens. It still hurts, but he makes it manageable. Jack delivered your rescuer, and your rescuer loves a soft touch.
1K notes · View notes
voidhope · 1 year ago
Text
The Other Woman
Tumblr media
Synopsis: Where Miguel leaves Y/N to go back to a different version of his old wife found in another universe.
Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader
Tags: ANGST!!, long term established relationship, heartbreak, marriage, cheating, mental health, cold/distant Miguel
A/N: Hi! I don’t really write at all!!
I have been a silent reader on tumblr for years but this idea has been playing in my mind so much I had the urge to write it. I have been down so bad for Miguel been on his tag like 24/7 indulging in all the content creators have been putting out. So I’m excited to join in giving content, however keep in mind I kinda suck! Apologies for any mistakes, anything confusing, or it not being well written enough. Honestly could have made this into multiple parts with better details but nah. Tried my best ^^ since it’s my first time, any feedback is greatly appreciated!
Honestly tbh we all don’t have a solid grasp how the whole canon thing and multi universe works yet so!! A lot of what is written is made up to suit my storyline so please don’t get mad about the inaccuracies.
I love a good angst and today’s story will be EXTRAAA angsty!!! As well kinda long!!
—————————————————
The moment that changed your life was while working on an experiment during your college finals. You were a proud and gifted physics major that was so passionate about discovering and exploring what the world didn’t know.
You had snuck into Alchemax late at night. You wanted to show your professors just how much you could do with the right tools. Next thing you know, playing with their machines, you had spawned a spider right in-front of you. The glowing vibrant red spider had sunk its jaw into your hand.
Your life did a complete turn and you spent the rest of that week freaking out while changes to your body were happening. Causing you to fail your semester after missing exams. Things felt like it could only get worse when a massive blue suited masked man showed up out of nowhere in your dorm interrogating you.
“Where’s the spider?” He had a strong grip on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus while trying to process why this man had what seemed like claws sticking out of the ends of his fingers.
“I don’t know, it like died after it bit me!” You exclaimed nervously at the freakishly strong man. Trying to reach for anything behind you to use as a defense weapon.
“Dios mío no me digas eso…” He groaned loudly letting you go. Having the opportunity to grab something, you threw a sanrio plushie at him. Only causing him to wave his arms in annoyance. “That spider is from my earth and somehow you brought it here. Now you’re a spider-man.”
And the rest is history…
You learned that the man was Miguel O’Hara and when he found you he was just starting his missions with the multiverse. You being the few of the firsts to join his team.
Your situation was quite bizarre and he called you an anomaly for a long time, spending hours studying you and also training you. You ended up being the one case that can’t be explained no matter how much effort was put into monitoring you.
Almost like it was meant to be. Your universe remained perfect with its current spider-man doing fine. No big collapse of a black hole or anything. When you got bit by a spider from Earth-928 your DNA merged with that universe making you fit in perfectly. You were one of the only spider-people with an uncertain timeline with new canons being created depending on what universe you were in.
What changed from you being just a piece of research for Miguel is when he then realized that maybe you were a gift from the multiverse. After all the grief and pain he’d went through the universe had given him this person that worked out perfectly no matter how hard he tried to push them away. You fell head over heels for him and vice versa, all while canon events were being created with both of you together.
You were there as his team grew, slowly turning into a family. Then both of you getting married finalizing that this was your home. Everything felt perfect. Although a relationship with Miguel could have its up and down days, nothing could ever tear you both apart. Or so you assumed.
“I’m sorry Y/N.” Miguel couldn’t look at you.
“When did this start? Please be honest with me. Did I do something wrong?” You begged at him. You knew he was acting off recently but never did you think it would result to this.
You watched as he exhaled deeply staring at the ground. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you studied his face trying to grasp onto any emotion he was showing. The atmosphere in his office felt so cold. You so badly wanted to catch his gaze and find the warmth and love his red irises used to give you. He was doing everything to push you away. He was abandoning you.
“You did nothing wrong. I met her during a mission 4 months ago.” Was all he replied.
“Who is she?” Your heart kept breaking. His face hardening as the question slipped through your lips. You knew Miguel wouldn’t leave you for just anyone. Deep in your heart you knew what this was about. He never responded but he didn’t need to when you saw his eyes flicker over to his monitor screens. You followed his trace and saw the photo of Gabriella in the corner.
“Does she have another version of your daughter?” You tried again. This is what made him look directly at you. Miguel kept opening and closing his month unsure how to tell you the truth. You weren’t stupid and he knew that. After everything he couldn’t just walk out on you with a lie.
“No.” He paused thinking of how to finally share the truth without it ruining you. There was no way out of this. “She is a younger version of herself. There is no Miguel in her universe and she’s not important to the timeline. She lives a regular life. I-it’s a chance for me to start at the very beginning.”
You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest. You processed the words carefully. She doesn’t have a child yet… Not only was he leaving you for her but he was going to fall in love with her all over again and start a family with her. A family you wanted so badly to have with him.
“What about with what happened last time you tried to live a life in a different universe?” You didn’t understand how this was happening.
He was always so carful he would never do anything to cause that again. Everything you had witness Miguel work so hard for to keep safe for years. Sleepless nights, returning bruised and beaten, frustrations and constant stress. Was it all for nothing? Is he throwing all his work away?
“This is different.” He turned away from you. “I pushed myself then into an already established life. This time I am creating that life. After all the research we did on you…” He knew that this was going to tear you apart. “I learned that if done right I could have a child from two different universes that won’t disrupt anything.”
It clicked to you then that all the research he was doing on you lately was for this. The research he did on you that time was different, personal, intimate even. As he was testing your DNAs together and seeing the outcomes. He mentioned a child and you were foolish enough to assume he was doing research to see what it would be like if you both had one together. You were giddy even as you watched him work. You had both spoken about having a family together in the past but had been too busy with spider activities. You thought it was a sign of him getting more serious about it, knowing how badly he wanted one. You would have never thought he was doing it to see how he could get back his previous child. The one you could never give him.
You had truly believe that Miguel had recovered from his obsession that his grief gave him. He accidentally destroyed a whole universe needing that life back so badly. You had spent late nights watching him re-watch clips over and over of what he had lost. It slowly stopped once your relationship blossomed with him and you thought he was ready to move on and start new. Why would you have never thought that with such a perfect opportunity presented to him that he wouldn’t drop everything for it.
“I think it’s best that you leave.” He spoke with a soft tone. As if not looking at you any longer will make the problem go away. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how he was just throwing you away like this. As if he wasn’t making you dinner, giving soft kisses, whispering I-love-you’s not so long ago.
You felt too choked up to ask anymore questions. Your throat tight and painful as you held back tears from escaping in-front of Miguel. You just nodded and headed straight out the door not being able to handle another second in that room. Your knees and hands were shaky as you speed walked into the nearest bathroom and let it all out.
It didn’t take long for everyone else to know something had happened. Everyone had gotten used to seeing you and him sitting together at lunch. You would make him cute lunch boxes and everyone would gag a bit while watching the two of you smile together. Some cringing seeing their scary boss being so soft around you. It was a big surprise when Miguel started to eat alone with a bag of take out food and you no where to be seen.
His teams he sent out for missions were all confused when you weren’t assigned to anything. Knowing you were one of the best, one of them slipped out a “Call for Y/N!” In the middle of fighting an anomaly too strong for them. Miguel only looked away.
It wasn’t until a new woman showed up in Miguel’s office with a grip around his waist. That’s when the spider-community realized that this was way worse than they thought.
You on the other hand had spilled everything to Hobie when he caught you that day leaving the bathroom with puffy eyes. You had been staying with him in his universe until you could gather yourself together to return to HQ. You knew you were going to leave for good, but you needed to go back to retrieve all your things. You couldn’t stay with Hobie forever. Worse that you weren’t from there.
You still had some hope that Miguel would come looking for you and tell you that he was all wrong. However almost two months had passed and not a word from him… That’s when you knew it was time you should return to what you once knew.
Stepping into the portal Hobie followed close behind you. He told the few others who were once close to both you and Miguel that you would be visiting. Stepping through the portal you were immediately greeted by Jessica and Peter B Parker.
“Oh, Y/N.” Jess sighed your name sadly while pulling you into a hug. You felt like you wanted to cry all over again. Missing your friends so much. Peter B came behind giving you a hug on the side.
“He’s on a mission right now.” Peter spoke up. “It might be a long one too but don’t waste anytime just incase.”
You nodded pulling away from them. Looking up around the headquarters building faintly smiling at the past memories you had here. You started heading to different areas gathering all the little things you had left around. Hobie had stitched for you a cute backpack with different scraps of patterned clothes and covered in patches of punk band logos but made with hammer space technology. Making it fun for you to fill endless of your things in the bag.
The last stop was in Miguel’s office. Doubt started to fill your mind; maybe he already threw out all of your stuff. Why would he even keep it after all of this? What no one could warn you of was the other person sitting on his platform.
“Hello!” She chirped at you. It felt like the air in your lungs had just been punched out. You knew her too well. From all the photos and videos you had seen peaking over Miguel’s shoulder. However seeing her in person was something you had never expected. You knew it wasn’t the original her but it was a copy paste image for sure.
“Hi.” Was all you managed to choke out. She was beautiful, stunning. You could see clearly now the similar features she shared in another universe with her daughter. The parts that Miguel didn’t have. She kept smiling kindly at you, almost in a graceful way. You started to feel all your insecurities start eating you up from the inside. How could you have ever compared to her.
“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Getting off Miguel’s platform she walked closer to you. The room started to feel suffocating.
“Y/N.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you! It’s nice to meet other girls around here.”
Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized she had no reaction to your name. So Miguel never told her about you… Or that the fact was he was still even legally married to you.
“My boyfriend isn’t here right now but, if you want, I can tell him you stopped by.” She continued as you stayed silent.
“Oh, no it’s okay. I just came in here to get some stuff.” You rushed as you really wanted nothing to do with Miguel at all. You almost worried that he might even get angry knowing you got to speak with her. If he already dislikes you this much you couldn’t even imagine how he would feel if you got in the way of this for him.
You started heading over to the familiar drawers around the room. Grabbing your old hoodies and shirts finding your most comfortable of things here. You treated this place as one of your safe spaces as you used to spend so much time here.
“Oh I didn’t know these were all yours! I was wondering why this was all around. When I came here I wanted to do some spring cleaning but Miguel wouldn’t let me touch anything.” She followed besides you. “It’s so mind blowing seeing all this technology. We don’t have any of this where I live-“ She continue rambling but you started to zone her out. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack any minute. There was one question that kept burning in your mind.
“Are you and Miguel already planning to have a child?” You blurted out. Your eyes widened a bit as you surprised yourself. She let out a loud laugh.
“Oh dear no! We have only been together about 6 months. You must be new around here so you must not know much about us.” She chuckled.
In some cruel way you were hoping she would have said yes. You had that twisted hope of maybe Miguel just keeping her to have a kid and ditching her after he gets Gabriella and run back to you. In reality he was playing the long game, he really meant it when we said he was starting over. “He’s never mentioned kids anyways. I’m not even sure if he’d like them or do well with them.”
With that statement she made you looked at her appalled. Anyone could see in Miguel how good of a father he could be. Just in the way he takes care of the society he built here. You started to realize that she really has been left in the dark. She doesn’t know anything. She probably doesn’t even know that she’s a replacement of another self. You wondered why Miguel was doing this. It felt like he didn’t just toy with you but with her as well. A man you came to love for how selfless he was, to realize now everything was for his own personal gain. Suddenly you started to feel bad for her. You couldn’t dislike her, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and she doesn’t even know.
“I got all my stuff. Nice to meet you.” Was all you could say as you zipped up your bag and turned straight around out of there. Not giving any glance back at her, you left to one of the empty training rooms to recollect your overwhelming thoughts. All of the self healing you tried the past month thrown in the garbage.
It wouldn’t be too soon that news of you going around the building was returned to Lyla. You had cut out all coms while you were gone so she immediately popped up on your watch when she found out.
“AH-“ You jumped as the tiny AI was suddenly in front of your face.
“It’s so wonderful to see you Y/N. Oh my god!”She started. Then she went on rambling about how she knew everything and had seen everything. How she didn’t agree with what was happening and was doing everything she could to convince you to stay. After 5 minutes of her rambling you stopped her to let your emotions out.
“Lyla, Lyla It’s okay. Just stop. It’s all complicated I know, but this didn’t work out. I wished Miguel just cheated on me like all the other fucked up normal men out there. That I walked in on him deep in another random girl. Though painful I could have tried fixing and fighting for us. But instead what I got was him emotionally cheating on me and chase after something he knows I can never give him.” You felt yourself choke up. “I can never ask him to give up what he longs and dreams for just for me to be happy. I lost this battle the moment he laid eyes on her.”
Finding comfort in the AI your husband made. You’ve created a bond with Lyla that Miguel found cute but you knew now this might be the last time you’ll be speaking with her.
“You can give him a family y/n… you guys have been married two years now. I know you’ve both set the thought aside until the multiverse issues are better but you can fight for him. You have to snap him out of his fantasy. He still thinks about you.”
“Lyla you know deep down truly he never just wanted a family. He wanted exactly what he had. What he lost. Which should be impossible but being by his side seeing how insane the multiverse is… Good for him for believing in something so hard he’s found himself even a third chance to do it.”
“I hate that you’re being too kind about this situation.” Lyla paced around you.
“I love him so deeply Lyla. You know that very well. It’s so hard to suddenly hate him. I am angry, but I’m also emotionally drained I can’t do this.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ve watched him long for this family when we just met. For some stupid reason when things worked out for us I thought I would be enough… When we got engaged and he would spend some days at home with me not even coming to HQ. I thought he was finally moving on not just from his grief and past but from the weight of his work. I saw a bright future for us.”
“You can still have a bright future with him! You moving here gave him a new canon event, another chance at life in his timeline. Here in his own universe! He’s just too obsessed and he’s lost himself in that.” She exclaimed with her hands up.
“Our canon event was our wedding.” Your frowned deepened. “But the universe didn’t say anything else after. It doesn’t say our canon event means we are suppose to live happily together forever I guess.”
“I’m just trying my best to be optimistic. I rooted so hard for you and Miguel when you joined the team. I know you can remember the amount of times I would force you both in rooms.” Lyla recalled.
“And I’m grateful for it… Even if this didn’t work out. I was given precious memories, not just working with you and being on this team but falling in love with Miguel. I know I’m being all depressed and hopeless but I feel like even if I move on I’ll never be able to replace him and find a relationship like this again. However he threw me away so easily and maybe he never valued me as much as I did to him.” You felt your emotions bubble. “I became who I am here. I’m going to miss everyone so much.”
“You can still stay here and work with us.” She edged on.
“I can’t just sit around here begging at his feet to return to me or moping around doing missions while watching him with someone else. I want to hate him so badly. I know he’s your boss and you’re basically hardwired to do everything for him and you’re trying your hardest to fix what you think is his right path. But think of me a little more and how miserable it’ll be. I’m the only one hurting here.”
Lyla paused and stared at you with an almost glossy-eyed look. While she worked she could see the inner term-oil Miguel was hiding and the emptiness he was turning to since trying to start new in the other universe. It just wasn’t her place to hold this conversation and he was the one who needed to get a grip of himself and really think and talk with you. She can’t be the one trying to mend the pieces for both of you together. What Miguel did was so wrong. She knew you were right and she didn’t want to see any more damage be caused to you.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked up at you sincerely. “I hate this outcome for you. Not only are you loosing your husband but your home. When was the last time you’ve even been in your universe?”
“Like a year ago for a mission…”
“Exactly! Even if things are over with Miguel, you have all of us here! I wish you could stay. I understand you leaving, I really do. I know a lot of us will try visiting you but I’m tied to Miguel…” You started to see how it clicked for her too that it’s most likely you might not see each other for a long time. “Even if a spider-person is visiting you I can’t just show up on their watch… It’ll go back to him and I know you wouldn’t want that. I know I’m an AI and I can’t hold real emotions but I mean it when I say I’m going to miss you.”
Tears poured down your cheeks as her words hit you. Going back to your universe is going to be a struggle. You have nothing there now. However nothing can compare to the pain of the outcome you’ve had with Miguel, and you needed out of here ASAP. Your mental health getting worse the longer you stay. Even the other spiders you have come to love can’t bring that spark back right now. You needed genuine time for yourself, even if it’s self destructive, instead of putting on a fake smile everyday here.
“Bye, Lyla.” You whispered. She nodded and waved her hand goodbye at you before disappearing. You took your watch off your wrist placing it on a nearby desk. With it you pulled the divorce paperwork out of your pocket neatly sealed and already signed on your half. Opening a portal you took your last glances at the place you spent so many loving memories in.
Tears blurred your vision as you stepped through the portal. Once your legs landed on a rooftop of a building in your dimension, you racked out full sobs falling to your knees.
You were always just the other woman.
—————————————————
Thank you so much for reading!! I know it was a longer one ~
would anyone like a part 2? If so anyone want a angsty or happy ending? I think it’ll be more in Miguel’s perspective as well!
EDIT: You can now read PART 2 here
8K notes · View notes
fairyysoup · 4 months ago
Text
easy living
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader
summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?
tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing
a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.
i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
Tumblr media
The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 
Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.
You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.
And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 
On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 
You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?
Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 
You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 
Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?
No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.
Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?
You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.
Tumblr media
You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 
On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 
Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.
Bloody American.
Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.
You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 
You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?
He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.
You, too, were scared and alone.
Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 
Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.
But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 
The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 
You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.
“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”
Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 
“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”
You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 
Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 
“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 
“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 
His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”
“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 
“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.
“Absolutely not.” 
“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 
“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 
You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 
“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 
“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 
Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.
You think you should pull away. You don’t. 
Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”
He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 
Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.
It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.
Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 
“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.
You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 
Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 
Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 
How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 
You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 
Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 
You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”
Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.
“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 
He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 
You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 
Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.
You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 
He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 
So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 
His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 
It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 
Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 
Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 
Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 
He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 
The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 
With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 
Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 
You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 
This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 
There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 
Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 
You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 
To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 
Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.
Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 
To keep you quiet. 
Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.
“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”
A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 
You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 
You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 
On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 
And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 
Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
xitsensunmoon · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
My first ever comic con! And first cosplay too. Of course it's gonna be my boy :] Ramblings about the process are under the cut(Let me know if?? You would want me to elaborate with process images for any of the steps?)
The costume took me forever to make, as I've never done any machine sewing, sculpting, fabric dying or spray painting before but learning all of these was so fucking fun!! I never realised just how many different skills go into making a cosplay but it was so worth it!!!
Almost all of the clothes(except the hat) were purchased first as bases, but all of the detailing was added by me. All of the fabric used was originally just scraps that I was given for free so I needed to learn how to dye and dye all of the stars, they were originally white.
The sewing machine was its own beast that brought me tons of frustration from the lack of skill and knowledge (it was devastating to find out that 95% of fuck ups were my fault and not the machine's lmao). But as a result, a hat sewn from scratch, all of the fur trims, embroidery on the corset, stars and the collar(which is very hard to see on the pictures unfortunately) was all added manually. The stars and the stripes(on the back of the cape) were attached using heat-and-bond adhesive (I WISH I knew about such thing just when I started working on this. It would save me so much time and nerves.)
Then I found out about polymorph(mouldable plastic) and it has become the next thing I wanted to learn, to sculpt the claws and the fangs(yes, they're handmade jfksjs). The claws I then primed and painted in trillion coats because I wasn't satisfied with the colour of the spray paint. The fangs I moulded to my own teeth and then stained with tea to match the colour of my teeth :)c
As for makeup, I used Mehron Paradise water activated paints. At first I wanted to try to save money and bought myself Snazaroo instead, which unfortunately turned out to be a waste. Snazaroo didn't hold on my face for longer than 2 hours, cracking and peeling awfully. Mehron on the other hand survived 11 hours of me smiling, talking, emoting and such and didn't even crease at the smile lines(I'm actually shocked about that). It obviously works like any other makeup which means your skin texture and wrinkles won't go anywhere but Mehron's elasticity pleasantly surprised me. It did obviously smear from sweat and saliva(if you're eating and licking your lips) but if you don't touch the skin it just dries again, self setting. But if it's dry it's fully smear-proof. Highly recommend!
And last but not least, I've decided against painting my hands as it was very risky that I will stain everything I touch at the smallest hint of sweat. So instead I got myself gloves-tights(? Not sure how they're called but it's made from the same fabric as tights) and painted them with normal acrylic paint(did you know you could dye fabric with acrylic paint? I personally didn't), then heat set with an iron and voilà, they're reusable, my hands are not stained after an exhausting day and I don't stain everything I touch. It worked wonderfully which honestly was a surprise as I was really sceptical that acrylic paint will somehow stay in place.
I think this whole thing took me minimum of 6 months with big-big breaks for my school and life in general. But I'm really proud! This project taught me so many new skills and I couldn't have been happier about learning new knowledge, even if it sucked to fail in the meantime.
Everyone at the con was really nice and gave me a large confidence boost even tho it was my first time and I had no idea what I was doing. Taking photos with other people was really awkward/new for me as I hate cameras so I really had no idea how to pose/behave in front of one. But that's okay I think. This whole experience definitely made me want to do this again, so I think that will come with experience. Thank you for reading this far, hope you enjoyed this little summary :)
2K notes · View notes