#and i do want to animate more this year....maybe when im more stable i can think about working on something like this

[deepfriedseagullfeet]

me: brain please......stop giving me ideas for things i will never do......or start and never finish.......please.....have mercy.......

brain: what if we did animated shorts with seagulls at a beach/boardwalk doing random shit with you voice acting and you can crosspost to insta/youtube and it helps you get a better grasp on an animation workflow while making silly seagull shorts and everyone will love it

me: i have a fucking youtube channel to make and porn to draw and depression to manage. please god stop

brain: seagull s r cool

[waterfall-ambience]

thinking about the future lol

i dont know how to do it but i think i should pursue art as a career. even if i was stressed about making the sol comic i still really enjoyed it and the response has been better than i could have hoped for, and drawing it made me feel more like a person than i have in several years (or it could be partly due to other factors like the fact that its now my turn with the sun, i had my sol arc and found friends to hang out with, the depression lifting, etc. who knows).

but i feel alive and i think my skills can be better utilised in an artistic and storytelling space. i used to think i would or should do science because it's more stable, the industry isn't so much of a wreck compared to something like the animation industry, and because i was good at it. me getting decently good grades in science is probably what kept me there bc its easier to justify staying if you like it enough and if your grades don't give you reason for pause. but i want to tell stories. i want to create. the analytical side of my brain is wired to think about the technical side of art, about themes and motifs and how to improve. the people who i think will go far in academia are the ones who are really interested in their area of study and think about it in their spare time. i dont do that unfortunately. the stuff i think about is art and media and breaking down how stories are told.

i used to think i could do both, since i've been told so much that i could do both, but uni has proved me dead wrong. i havent drawn properly in a long time because of it, and the reason the sol comic exists at all is because i could justify going crazy because it was for school. i have to dedicate myself to one thing so i can focus and actually improve.

i dont think i've wasted any time. if it took me 3 years to realise i wanted to do art as opposed to science then so be it, and i've also met a lot of cool people in more advanced research programs and talking to them has given me a lot of perspective. if not for these past few years i probably would've ended up wondering if i should've pursued science instead. and maybe i still will be doing that even as an artist. i dont think i will have the same call to do science when doing art, and im glad i know now.

watch this age well or poorly.

[teardew]

-

im thinking about making a patreon because i .. uh .. i cant justify drawing for myself anymore and its killing me lmao

it takes me really long to draw so any time i hav should be spent on comms... iv been trying to fight off burnout by drawing things i like inbetween commissions like that sv anatomy practice and vampire/werewolf mngling was just for me but it still ended up setting me behind schedule because i had to rest my eyes and wrist afterward. but not only that i also wanna like. make a lot more things ...

like i wanna do animal, insect, architectural, jewelry studies and fashion and character design explorations and try designing icon packs and branch out trying embroidery with mixed media and clothes making and get into making like 3d things with clay and soft sculptures. i wanna make historical fashion coloring books with việt phục and fashion zines ...

also theres a lot of stuff i dont post bc im not sure if anyone would be interested in all the design concepts and notes i had for example the homestuck dreamer outfits or the various sha hualing designs and sketches i had before getting to the thing i posted? like i hav a bunch of different sqh outfit and hair designs but theyr more clothing based and not detailed character/face art ...

idk !! it sounds like an excuse. its like, who cares just post it ! i know i shouldnt value my art by the amount of numbers i get from posting on social media and i dont mostly but its kinda unavoidable ? to me ? i know i only post fanart and ppl follow me for that and its not a bad thing ! being realistic i just dont think anybody but me would be interested in it ??

i dont know. god. i dont know what this post is about. ''i dont think anybody would be interested in the things i really wanna make'' but im thinking about making a patreon for things i really wanna make anyway because thats the only way i can justify it is if i can profit off it in some way. i dont really want to, but with my financial circumstances i dont know. i never wanted to make my livelihood off my art. i dont even consider or call myself an ''artist'' really, i just want to MAKE art

i dont know why i still cant find a steady job after 5 months applying to everything and its making me miserable. its embarassing, they say to be persistent with jobs but calling and even walking in to check on applications and watching employers awkwardly try to turn me away without just flat out telling me no even though none of them hire me is an exercise in public humiliation. how bad do you want a job? bad enough to make a fool of myself with nothing to show for it. and i want to make art for myself to cope but it takes too much time and time is money

maybe this post is about my art anxiety under capitalism. i dont know

i think im safe enough now to admit my friends gofundme i was posting about months ago about helping their friend escape their abusive household was actually my gofundme because i was worried about them finding out and preventing me from leaving or internet stalking me afterwards. i did hav a scare when i got a phone call i thought was from my brother but ended up being a police officer, whos my mother's friend ...

but anyways. me admitting this is just to give context that. i ran hundreds of miles away from financial security and everything i ever knew and im still struggling to find steady income nearly half a year later. i just dont understand what im doing wrong. is it my name? is it because im not from here? iv been working continuously ever since i could legally my resume isnt BAD. am i just stupid? should i have just tried to make peace with my lot in life?

i thought getting away from my family would let me be in a better place to create more art, thats one of the things i was so excited about but this feels just as stressful as when i was the only earner supporting my family during covid. i just want a stable job so i can make art. i dont want making art to be my Job. i dont want to be a ''starving artist'' begging for people to care about my art i just want to make art. but fuck i dont know how to sustain any of this

sorry for this mess. insurance is different out here and i havnt been able to find a psych either so its not like i can talk about this in therapy instead of venting on my art blog. all my life i wanted to make things without the fear of it all being destroyed. the main reason i havnt branched out from illustrations is because its entirety can be saved digitally even if its physically ruined. my sketchbooks were thrown away or ripped apart by my family either from carelessness or anger to hurt me but now that im finally enough safe to have them again or make something i can hold in my hands without the fear that someone will come in break it and make me clean up its corpse i cant afford it

i dont know what to do. is it worth it? is making art worth it? i mean. its worth the rent this month. and i still love drawing god this is probably bad for business because i dont want people to feel bad for commissioning me or anything but not to be dramatic why does it feel like im fucking dying

[patchun]

some thoughts lately or a diary or whatever

i am lonely and my roommate bryan is the only person i know who somewhat shares my nerdy interests and he's moving out soon. i'm moving in with some acquaintances i met via my local bar but the reason they're acquaintances is because i have basically nothing in common with them so i doubt i'll have as satisfying a relationship with them even once we do get to know each other. i've always had a difficult time relating to other people and really getting close to them and i'm thinking this may play a big part in why.

i like anime such select and specific anime that i'm not sure i can accurately say "i like anime". the people i know who like anime usually like naruto/one piece, that kind of thing, and it's usually more of a passive interest for them. but then, you have the people who LIKE like anime, and they tend to be a little too weird for me to vibe with, not that there's anything wrong with the weirdness, i just end up not fitting in with them either. i'm at this weird point where i'm very socially "normal" but have interests that are very different from socially normal people? and those interests are what i spend most of my time thinking about, so growing closer via conversation about anything else can be difficult, as i frankly just don't know much about most topics, and am reluctant to speak when i'm not confident about my relevant knowledge.

so yeah i dont really know what i'm hoping for, am i hoping to meet my similar-interest dream girl who doesn't exist and even if she did the likelihood of ever a) encountering each other and b) encountering each other in such a way that shows we have things in common is basically nonexistent. i think that's maybe a silly thought process as that's not really how things work and it doesn't necessarily need to be a romantic relationship anyways.

oh yeah and i'm not doing makeup or eyeliner any more and i cut off my hair so now its short and brown and i look like an average 5-6-7 if were being generous white dude like i used to. i was really tired of being perceived as gay by seemingly everyone at a glance. but i'm definitely regretting it a little bit, looking in the mirror for that approximate year always made me so happy. i constantly would look at myself in my snapchat camera and take pictures and feel confident and such. now i kind of hate looking at myself and it was weird breaking the habit of constantly looking at my snapchat camera because of the negative emotions it caused. i was just feeling miserable one day and was so desperate for any kind of change that i cut my hair off, lol. i talked with my doctor about it and the idea that i could potentially have bipolar depression came up. which, looking at my past actions such as: quitting jobs, getting a nonsensical divorce from my loving partner of 10 years, moving to rochester, starting estrogen.......... maybe there's something to that lol. if any of my bpd homies read this let me know what u think im looking at u m if u get this far or check my blog lol

but yeah reading over this myself maybe i should go back to the eyeliner lol. i realized that i really like cute things. i like kirby and girl characters in video games and bla bla bla. i like cute things and i think it felt nice to be a cute thing. unfortunately i just don't know if the social niche it gave me was productive towards my end goal of finding a romantic partner. its got me thinking, once i have money again (oh yes i am extremely broke,,, i start my new job on august 12), how SHOULD i present myself if i want to work towards that goal? presenting in general is such a fascinating thing its like... you decide how you want others to perceive you, what notions theyre going to have. i dont know i dont really get it.

thankfully despite not being just super happy i am pretty mentally stable right now. no extremely low lows like it has been for a while recently

[eldritchmochi]

Letter ask: the word PHANTOM

jesus christ mina youre going to kill me lmao

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

HMMM i have a couple weird ones, because im me, but i think the weirdest would be the one where i just slap ashton into the whole situation i have going on with my job where they get hired to be reception (somehow??? he's baffled too honestly) and then ends up taking over bookkeeping because he has some level of prior experience due to all the temping hes done while trying to get out of manual labor work to save their increasingly fucked up body at least a little, and then revolves around him navigating getting his health under control and the fact that hes like... financially stable and almost well off???? for the first time in their entire life, with added bonus of the IT guy they deal with most for getting all the stuff set up to do bookkeeping is fucking cute as hell and they keep running into each other at the gym and then maybe something about taking care of both fcg and milo (even tho milo hates it) because finally ashton has money to meaningfully contribute to the well being of his friends. i will eventually write it because i think it'd be fun to put ashton into Situations in an entirely benign office setting when he's defintely not the sort youd think to be there, especially not in some sort of management situation, i just haven't figured out the rest of the cast lmao

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?

broadly, it really depends. i am all over the map with where inspo comes from and just because i find inspo in one particular piece of media does not mean i'll latch onto something in the same vein even if you'd expect me to. even beyond format or indie vs mainstream, i'm wildly unpredictable when it comes to things like how fleshed out the characters i claim as mine are in source material and like even the kind of characters i find inspo in a lot of the time. like, ive written (but not finished) fic for crime procedurals so like...... my mileage certainly varies lmao

probably the trends are like: indie media or cult classics, things with found family, and things with characters who either have a solid base of unique traits to extrapoliate into a good personality or characters that are very well fleshed out and very unique

A N T answered here!!

O answered here!! but i'll answer it again because its fun lmao

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

this one is very much on repeat when i work on the 30k+ ashrym character exploration pwp i have been writing off and on for like 10 months lmao

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

okay so like, cherry was absolutely BAFFLED by my fmk answer for cr between my Big Three blorbos here because its absolutely fuck caleb, marry ashton, kill essek

BUT HEAR ME OUT so like ashton right?? we're both abrasive assholes who have a lot of things in common (brawling, punk diy, not touching people) so you'd think we'd butt heads a lot but i can absolutely see them being the sort to plainly state if i'm being annoying and how, and i also see him being the sort to respond well to the same. i think we'd vibe well because we just kinda get a lot of the bullshit we each go through and also have a similar enough way of communicating frustrations that there wouldn't really be hard feelings from frustrations. 10/10 good buddy, roommate, or husband material in my books

essek is the exact opposite. i would punch that wizard in the face like IMMEDIATELY lmao

caleb physically is aggressively my type (which is why i write so much porn from essek's pov lmao) but he would frustrate the hell out of me irl with the way he manages his trauma so id divorce him in like a year BUT the dick would be bomb so fwb but more benefits and less friends because i do not want to be someone's therapist i have been there

anyway.

there are several other letters in this ask game u can ask me bles it is very fun

[abigailthedreamer]

I posted 190 times in 2022

50 posts created (26%)

140 posts reblogged (74%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@maikolix

@nainamai

@captainshadowshifter

@thegreenzorua

@emerald-dream

I tagged 175 of my posts in 2022

Only 8% of my posts had no tags

#abigail's dreams - 99 posts

#abigail speaks - 35 posts

#self shipping - 21 posts

#abigail’s dreams - 19 posts

#pokemon - 9 posts

#monster camp - 9 posts

#f/o - 9 posts

#cuphead - 8 posts

#abdu monster camp - 8 posts

#self shipping community - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 101 characters

#and my reason for my judgment was cuz my kid brain never processed the idea of a villain wearing pink

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

It’s probably cuz they remind me of ant and dec but

Why do i imagine ribby and croaks with newcastle accents.

17 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

#4

Watched the cuphead show and it rlly got me grinnin and shit.

I loved the game back in 2017 and im rlly back into it now. (Im hoping to get it today)

O yea, its s/i time.

Miss chalice is mega beloved (and comfy bestie f/o) shes weirdly like a mary sue but like in a good way.

King dice is back and I already made him a f/o.

All in all. 10/10. Only criticism is that i wanted more episodes and episodes on the other bosses.

18 notes - Posted February 18, 2022

#3

The best thing about having an oc in a pokemon game you have is replaying the game and playing as the oc. cuz thats what im thinking on doing when i’ve done all i can do in pokemon ultra moon.

21 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#2

*Crashes Down from the Celling* HI HELLO I COME WITH MANDELA CATALOGUE THING.

It’s kind of a headcanon/Theory so Hear me out:

The existence of Alt Gabriel basically ceased the existence of Christianity from the get-go. let me explain. Theory under cut.

As we all Know The angel Gabriel was the one to foretell to Mary that she’ll be giving birth to Jesus. But of course, given that original gabriel was taken over by Alt gabe (maybe the devil in disguise) that promise proved only hollow and the biblical story went on as normal. but without the characters you’d usually see in the tale, no 3 wise men (With no Jesus being born, King Herod never sent them to find the child), no star and obviously no shepherds because lets just say alt gabe already scared them off. Just Mary and Joseph, in some musty ass stable surrounded by animals, and Mary giving birth to a completely ordinary boy.

‘But Abigail, who was the person talking in the desert at the end of overthrone?’ good question! i have 3 possibilities. 1. It’s Mary cursing herself for believing what, to her must’ve been just a hallucination but having the most horrid feeling that she just doomed everything just from letting alt gabe trick her. (almost like the serpent tricking adam and eve HAYOO-)

2. It’s the now ordinary Jesus, the aftermath of probably getting the first and last words from his would’ve been father, god. making the ‘if there’s a god, please help me’ terrifying

3 and pretty out there, Its god himself being cursed to wander the desert for eternity by alt gabe/the devil. without a holy power stopping him, he (alt gabe/the devil) has all the time in the world to build is alternate army. also the thought of God, an all powerful and all knowing being begging for another god to help him is a haunting thought. Ok that’s my theory. uhh....yea. TL:DR: The existence of Alt Gabriel royally fucked over Christanity as the mandela catalogue universe knew it.

22 notes - Posted June 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

What a funky looking character i do hope he doesn’t become a pivital part of my personality . Edit: this has gotten a few reblogs so i wanna just say that the art isn’t mine but if you know the actual artist please put it in the notes so i can credit them k thx.

70 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[one-boring-person]

You forced this upon yourself😂 you forced this rambo simp.(and i dont mind)

Okay this may not be as good! But! Im giving you the liberty to take it where you want!(because i love your little details and how you express the feeling in your writing i- AH! Its great. I cant say it enough, it’s great. I mean it.)

How about Rambo finally getting enough courage to show The rancher around the tunnels, in a date sort of way!(they don’t know thats actually where he lives. Aka that photo i showed you before.) i really saw how the rancher was so happy to have him at their house, I’d love to see rambos side of scheduling a house tour and date type deal!! Maybe him even sitting and showing the rancher through all his old photos, and them just in awe because wow. He’s so much cooler than they even thought! He just so nervous and surprised seeing them so interested in him after all this time alone, and them just- in awe of him.

( i also really think it would be funny seeing rambo go through his friends house and seeing-“why the hell you have so many plants???” And just. Adorable assassin living with a wholesome and loving hardworking s/o)

Ah! Im sorry if that’s not as good!! But hey, you feel free to describe their antics and relationship as you will!!

I think I may have run a bit with this, but I hope you like it regardless!😊💛

I've Got Your Back, You've Got Mine.

John Rambo (Rambo IV/V) x reader

Warnings: mention of death, mention of war, mention of injury, mention of PTSD, mention of violence, (possible flash warning for gif?)

Masterlist

The heavy knock on the door surprises me where I'm sitting, the sharp sound snapping me from my thoughts. Looking over at it from my position at the table, I frown and set down my spoon, standing to go answer, unsure of who it is: I'm not expecting anyone today. Colt looks up from his place on the floor, the dog just as curious as I am as to whom it may be, though he doesn't bark, so it must be someone we know. He watches me as I cross the room, going straight to the door.

Opening it, I'm somewhat surprised to see my neighbour, John, standing there, a tentative smile on his face as he looks me over appreciatively, his gaze drawing a blush to my face. 

"Mornin' (Y/n)." He greets, rough voice friendly as he waits for me to let him in.

"Morning John." I smile back, delighted to see him, "What can I do for you?"

I step back, waiting for him to enter, which he does so with a nod of thanks.

"Since when have I needed a reason to see you?" The veteran chuckles, the sound reverberating within me, my brain subconsciously storing the action away for later recall. Gently, John moves into my space, one hand coming to lightly rest on my hips as the other cups my face, drawing me in for a slow kiss. 

Kissing back, I feel a glow of happiness flare up in me at this contact: he's never really one to initiate touch like this, so it's a whole lot more intimate when he does. Relaxed, I loosely wrap my arms around his neck, languidly caressing his dark hair as our lips move together. 

Being the killjoy he often loves to be, Colt pushes in between us, nosing at John's leg, tail wagging enthusiastically as he recognises the familiar man, the dog as fond of his company as I am. Chuckling, John and I pull apart, looking down at the large canine between us, the dark eyes staring up at us imploring us to pay attention to him. Still smiling, John lowers a hand to scratch Colt's head, ruffling his floppy ears a little as the dog instantly allows his mouth to hang open, tongue lolling in content.

"Hey, Colt." The veteran greets, biting back a laugh as the dog pushes me out of the way, nudging at John's stomach.

"He never gets that excited to see me." I complain jokingly, standing back to watch the two interact, a smile playing at my lips.

"Sure he does." John replies, eyes fixing on mine with an expression of fondness, one that had me weak at the knees.

"He really doesn't, he just sits in the corner and whines at me until I feed him. Isn't that right?" I address the dog himself, giving him a light slap on the rear, his ridiculous height meaning I can quite easily reach it, "Anyhow, did you need something? Or did you just come here to kiss me? I can't say I'll complain if that's the case."

Cheekily, I wink at the veteran, leaning back against a nearby counter.

"As nice as that sounds, it's not the reason I came by." He chuckles, blushing lightly, "Though that does sound good."

Grinning, I nod my agreement, only now taking in his body language: he's nervous. His hands fidget, rubbing his fingers over scars and lines on his palms, and he shifts from foot to foot every now and then, small tells he's never quite managed to hide from me.

"Is something up?" I ask him, slightly more serious this time, unnerved by his discomfort.

"No, no, not at all. I, err, well, I just wanted to ask you something." He rubs the back of his neck, head tilted to the side as he regards me, dark eyes fixed on mine.

"Ok, go for it." I prompt him, curiosity sparking my interest.

"Well, do you wanna come to mine? I mean properly, like in the house." John cocks his head to the side, lowering his arm again.

Blinking, I feel shock flood my system, before it turns to unbelievable happiness that he's trusting me enough to come into his private space. Initially, I can't find the right words, somehow struggling to respond, until I find my tongue again.

"I would love to, John." I agree, features lighting up as my mood brightens, "There's nothing I've really got to do today except train up one of the younger horses, so I've got as long as you want after that."

"Great. Is four o'clock alright?" The veteran smiles broadly, though he still looks somewhat nervous.

"Yeah, should be. I'll be there." I promise him, taking up my Stetson from the table as I briefly turn away to put away the plate I was using, having lost my appetite in my sudden excitement.

"I'll get it tidy." He says, looking around the room again, "I'll never understand why you have so many plants in your house. It's like a damn jungle."

At his comment, I laugh loudly, glancing around at the variety of different houseplants I have placed on various shelves, the greenery practically covering every available surface. 

"Because it's way too dry to grow anything like this outside all the time. Anyway, they look nice." I shrug, calling Colt to my side as I follow John from the house, grabbing my jacket from the hook as I pass.

"But why so many?" 

Once again, I shrug, following him over to a nearby post, where he's hitched Bandit, the horse I gave him a few months ago. The buckskin stallion paws at the ground, his pale coat looking as clean as ever even as he noses at the dust, the dark colouring around his eyes (the reason for his name) and legs standing out much more in the bright sun. As we approach, he looks up, snorting in greeting.

"He's looking good." I acknowledge, admiring the strong stallion appreciatively - I had reared Bandit from a foal, before I had given him to the veteran as a gift four months ago, hoping it will help him to grow his own ranch. My plan had worked, and John now has four horses, including Bandit, as well as a couple of other animals, such as a cow, a pig and five chickens. I'd sold him a couple of goats as well, but we soon found out that John and goats just didn't get along. At all.

"Yeah, he's doing well, too. Takes the training very well, too." John runs a hand through the stallion's dark mane, untying the reins.

"That's good. Reckon he'll be ready for a competition soon?" 

"Should be." 

Snorting again, Bandit pulls at the reins, clearly eager to get going, especially as Colt moves up to sniff at the horse's back legs. I quickly whistle him over, knowing Bandit has always been shifty around the dog.

"I'll see you at four then." I finally say, unwilling to say goodbye, even if it is only for a few hours.

"Yeah, see you then." John smiles, leaning in to kiss me again, keeping it brief this time, leaving me wishing for more, as he always does.

"See ya." I grin, watching him climb into the saddle, still somehow fluid in doing so despite his age. 

Gathering the reins in hand, John adjusts himself in the saddle, before he smiles down at me again as he gently urges Bandit into motion. Obediently, the stallion moves into a swift trot, which turns into a faster canter as the two move off down the driveway, heading towards the split in the fence separating our land. I watch as they go, still finding myself enraptured by the sight of the muscular man sat astride the horse, Colt eventually snapping me from my mind as he barks at me. Shaking my head, I follow him towards the stable.

Hours later, having showered and cleaned up, I feel a sense of relief go through me as I hoist myself into the saddle secured into place on Leo's back. It's relaxing, the stallion beneath me more relaxed than the youngster I've been trying to train all day: she never gave me a break. Seemingly sensing this, as he always does, Leo flicks his ears back and nickers softly, very lightly pawing the ground as I give him a pat on the neck, glad to have a more reliable horse taking me where I need to be.

Tilting back my Stetson, I take the reins in hand and ease the stallion into a trot, intending to let him pick up his own pace, my trust in this horse far greater than in the mare from before. Obediently, Leo moves into the correct gait, the two of us moving as if as one, years of riding together having made it easy for us to become in tune with each other. Together, we start off down the road towards John's ranch, the new path we've created beaten and well-used, allowing for relatively easy riding. Leo's hooves pound the dry ground rhythmically, my hips moving in time with his every stride, the relaxing movement helping to calm the nerves that have sprung up inside me.

A part of me is still unconvinced about going into John's home. Yes, I had helped him rebuild it and had seen very little of the inside rooms, but it still feels as if I'm intruding upon the veteran's safe space, his reprieve from the cruelty of the world he lives in. Something about that doesn't sit right with me, but I tell myself it's John's decision to make, not mine, so I should trust him, which I do, wholeheartedly. 

I'm still torn by the time I reach the main house, where John is already sat waiting for me in his rocking chair, dark eyes fixed on me as I approach. Lifting a hand to him, I smile and slow Leo to a halt, praising the horse as I climb down, the gray stallion nosing affectionately at me. Swiftly, I tie him to a nearby post, only to stop when John calls out to me.

"Put him in the stable for the night." He instructs me, gesturing for me to follow him as I try to fight back the sudden onslaught of racing thoughts at his implications: he wants me to stay the night?

"Sure, thanks." I smile back at him, walking after him with Leo in tow.

"Don't worry about it. It's not fair on him if he has to stay out all night." John waves me off with a short grin, "How'd training go?"

I groan.

"Not great. That horse has it in for me, I swear." I complain, rubbing at my arm, remembering the moment I got the new bruise forming there.

"Oh yeah?" He muses, looking amused.

"Yeah. She threw me off eight times!"

"Eight times? Wow, must be a new record." The veteran jokes, something that stirs up the familiar fondness inside me at his more personable behaviour.

"I reckon so. Painful one to set, though, I'll tell you." I remark, smiling broadly as we enter the stable, where I quickly house Leo next to Bandit, removing his tack and other gear.

"Must be." John watches me work, leaning against the door to the large building, muscular arms crossed over an equally muscular chest. Turning back to him, I have to stop and admire the bulging of his biceps as his hands grip his forearms, the veins I've come to love laying out a pattern on the tanned limbs. Everytime I see them, I imagine his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me safe and secure against his solid body, wishing I could feel his hands splayed against me more often.

"Like what you see?" John interrupts my thoughts, voice teasing as he lifts an eyebrow at me, almost smirking at me.

Blushing furiously, I avert my gaze, lifting a hand to gently tap the brim of my Stetson out of my vision.

"You know I do." I laugh nervously, before I look back up at him, "Anyway, since when do you use pickup lines?"

"Since I figured out they get you all flustered." His playful tone is new to me, though it's gone almost as soon as I see it, his guarded expression falling back into place as he returns within himself, probably thinking he overstepped some invisible boundary.

I still can't help stammering for a response, his gruff tone awakening something within me.

"Heh, I guess you're right." I stutter, going over to him.

Nodding, he keeps his expression straight, leading me out back to the house, where he quickly welcomes me inside.

"I tried to tidy it as much as possible, but it's still a bit messy." The veteran apologises, observing the interior of his home critically, even as I do so in awe.

The rooms, from what I can see, are mostly filled with sparse furniture, a few chairs here and there, an old sofa, a couple of vanities and dressers, with a mantlepiece in most, if not all, of them. He hasn't used much colour, but what he has used is tasteful and works well with the overall appearance. The walls, however, are what really draw me into the place.

They are littered with photographs and memorabilia, frames and objects cleaned and polished so they shine brightly in the afternoon sun, many smiling faces visible in them. Curious, I go over to one wall, looking over the array of pictures, which I now recognise to be images of John and his friends from the years he spent here. Amongst them is a creased black and white photo of a young John sat astride a horse not unlike Bandit, a broad grin on the boy's face as he stares at the camera from under a mop of thick black hair. I can feel a small smile creep onto my face at the sight of the veteran looking so happy and carefree, something I've not seen very much of at all in my time around him.

"That was my first horse, Hector. I had him until I left for the army." John says from behind me, sounding somewhat quiet, eyes softened from nostalgia as he stares at the picture along with me, "I loved him a lot, but my father always said he wasn't good enough."

His words hang in the air as I stay speechless, listening intently to what he's saying to me: it's the first I'm hearing about his life before he came here again.

"What happened to him? Hector, I mean." I ask him quietly, tearing my eyes away to look up at John.

The veteran shrugs, appearing somewhat remorseful.

"I'll never know, but I reckon my father sold him as soon as I was gone."

"Oh." I frown, glancing back at the photograph.

"The horse was getting old by that time, though. He probably wasn't much use." John chuckles wryly, moving away towards the stairs nearby, "Do you want to see upstairs?"

"Yeah, sure." I nod, following him as he ascends to the second floor, which I now see consists of three different rooms.

He takes me to the farthest, opening the door to reveal an old study, which looks as if it hasn't been used in a good few years.

"This was my father's study, where he did all his business. I was never allowed in here as a kid." John sweeps his arm around the room, staying by the threshold, as if abiding by a rule that no longer exists, "Not that I go in here that much as an adult."

I look around, finding the neat area interesting: images of a young John hovering by the door, waiting for his father to finish business entering my head.

"It's nice, I like it." I remark, turning to find him smiling very slightly at me.

"It's the only room in the house that's exactly as it used to be. I haven't had time to do up the others properly." John says, leaving the study and going back down the hall, where he opens the other two doors to reveal a bathroom and an empty room.

A dull curiosity flares up within me as I realise one thing about the top floor, but I easily find a solution to it, following John back down the stairs. As we go, however, I realise that my assumption is wrong, as the only other rooms down here are missing the one thing I'd expect in any house.

"Where do you sleep? I haven't seen a bed or anything anywhere." I ask him, cocking my head to the side as he takes me to one final door.

"I'm gonna show you." He smiles at me, before he opens the door.

I blink as I see the dark steps descending into the ground, unease biting at my throat as I flash John a hesitant look. A cool draft wafts up from the black depth, but John only chuckles and moves down into the space below, gesturing for me to follow.

"It's perfectly safe, don't worry." He calls to me, a light flickering on as he reaches the bottom of the steps, illuminating the path to me.

Swallowing, I gingerly step down the stairs, emerging into a tunnel of sorts, my curiosity piqued as I take in the chiselled walls around me, the rock cast in an odd light from the naked bulbs positioned along the length of the cavern. Struts of wood hold the ceiling steady, wiring hanging off of them in places where he's had to hastily put it all together. John watches as I take in the passage, a thoughtful look in place on his face.

"What is this place?" I wonder aloud, still taken aback by the oddity of having a tunnel beneath the house that stretches off in both directions.

"This is my safe space." The veteran informs me, urging me along with him as we go further into the tunnel, walking together for a minute before we emerge out into a larger room of sorts, which is well lit. 

My eyes widen as I realise exactly what he means.

The room acts as his bedroom and bathroom, and also has space to sit and relax, the whole area having a homely feel to it. What was missing in the rooms in the house can be found down here, including more photographs, though these ones seem different to the others. They adorn the walls, all except one, which is decorated with a variety of weapons, both guns and knives. Going over to it, I look over the rifles and shotguns hooked onto the wall, struck speechless as I then turn my attention to a machete, the blade honed but chipped from use, seemingly out of place as it hangs beside another, smaller hunting knife. 

Moving on, I regard the photographs, only now realising that they're military pictures, many of them containing images of a youthful John in fatigues and uniform. A smile creeps back onto my lips as I feel my eyes land on a particular image of a group of men, where I can see John standing amongst them, a triumphant grin on his face, long locks of dark hair held back by a strip of fabric around his head. The others also smile, though there's something bittersweet about the inscription at the corner of the photo: Baker Team, Vietnam. As I look past the other pictures, I notice that the team slowly dwindles, beaming faces becoming drawn and solemn, eventually just leaving two people behind. Beneath this image is another inscription: Baker Team Survivors.

"That was my team in 'Nam." John says suddenly, voice husky as he remembers the friends he had, "None of them made it back. Not really."

Eyes wide, I look back at him, taking in the distant look in his own eyes, the barely concealed grief still raw in his expression as he stares at the photographs. Noticing my gaze, John gestures for me to come sit on the edge of his bed with him, the veteran pulling another photograph from it's place on his bedside table. Doing so, I make sure I'm not touching him, but am close enough to reassure him, waiting patiently for him to start talking of his own accord, knowing that this is a sensitive subject for him.

After a moment, he starts, his voice low as he pulls me into his stories, taking me through suffocating jungles and blistering heats, through recon and rescue missions, through bloody gunfights and hellfire,  through hours spent in torturous situations. He puts me in his shoes as he loses every single member of his team to the gruesome fight he should never have fought, the harrowing grief and pain of letting go of a comrade, someone who's supposed to be by your side for as long as the two of you can stay alive, laid bare for me to see and experience. And even as he moves on, back to familiar territory in the States, the fight never leaves him.

Facing harassment in what should be his safety and security, I can feel every bit of betrayal, of anger and grief that he felt as he is let down by his own country time after time, used again and again by the authorities to do their dirty work, only to be cast aside when it doesn't go their way, the old catchphrase he once lived by, "I've got your back, you've got mine" completely meaningless in this hollow life. His disgust in humanity is plain to me as he outlines his most recent forays into warfare, where the rage he felt is once again transferred to me, and I experience the violent need to take out the parasites in the world that destroy anything good that he did. It's as if I'm there with him, through everything, his description and memories so vivid they chill me to the core, keeping me hooked on his every word.

After a long while, he eventually trails off, and I realise there's a tear rolling down his cheek, his body shaking a little as he holds himself back. My heart breaking, I have to fight the urge to reach out and pull him into an embrace, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. I place my hand on his shoulder instead, rubbing the tight muscles soothingly until he looks up at me with the most heart-rending gaze I've ever seen in my life. At that point, my resolve breaks.

Carefully, I lean in and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling the veteran towards me. He goes willingly, sobs wracking his body as he wraps his own hands around me, burying his face into my neck, tears flowing freely now as he lets himself go, each pained sound agonising to hear. Tightening my grip, I lay back onto the bed, allowing him to press his body around me, holding me against his muscular form as I rub his back, whispering soothing things to him as his breathing starts to calm a little. It takes time, but eventually he starts to relax, body going limp as he lays in my arms, his larger form awkwardly wrapped around mine as he depresses his face into the crook of my neck.

I barely hear his broken voice as he whispers to me.

"Thank you." 

Breathing in his familiar scent, I just mould myself closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead as he does the same to my neck.

"I'm here for you, John. I'm here, and I'll never leave. Not as long as I live, I promise."

[rangerdew]

well im posting this tazes

finished TAZ, here are my juicy, freshly harvested, organic thoughts for the picking

- i really liked magnus' ending, out of all of them. they went through so much but theyll all still die at the end. no one's immortal. i also just think his development, metatextually and textually, is really cool.

- the world of taz kind of makes me .. withered because of how *nice* and *stable* it is. the god that made them said that they saved the world, theyre proud of them, etc. but i guess for me when he said that, all i could think about was -- they saved the world, but it's not going to last forever. they have story and song but one day the people who know of those will die and the world will end or maybe there will be a mass extinction and it will be reborn or it will stay barren forever or another planet will crash into it and itll fall into a million pieces and reform again or maybe it will be swallowed by the sun or ravaged by wildfires and exploding texas lithium batteries but man. it would be nice, wouldnt it, if a fantasy world could sustain itself forever

- griffin is very idealistic in this story in a way that reminds me a little of what ozymandias from watchmen was probably thinking -- big extraterrestrial problem, everyone bands together against big extraterrestrial problem, capitalism solved. dont have a conclusion, just an observation.

- more things that made me withered are taako and merles and to an extent magnuss futures. they all become . . . business owners, some with like, BUSINESSS business like taako, and are all . . . idk how to explain this but powerful men? the entire world knows of their bravery and otherworldly age and knowledge and wisdom from their century and how they saved them and tried to save other worlds for a hundred years and that they're heroes and it just didnt stick right with me. it made me feel weird. like i dont want to relate to them anymore. 

- im not going to lie what sarah z said -- or maybe what she implied? -- does stick in my head. to an extent, the three heroes transformation and endgame or what they became is much like what the mcelroys became. i am just remembering now that she was talking about graduation, but i feel like its . . . similar. i watch mbambam or listen to taz sometimes and i think its nice that these are three guys in their hometown, but then i remember  . . . everything and suddenly it becomes harder to stomach.

other taz thoughts i had, not from the finale but felt prudent to say now

- to expand on 'harder to stomach', in mbambam they heavily associate and work with both the mayor and the police force with little criticism of the institutions as a whole. those are the hardest parts of the show to watch for me, but taking into account their perspective as white, homegrown american boys from west virginia, a lot of stuff in taz starts to . not make sense but like connect the dots? for me anyway. easiest example is kravitz and the death prison. i cant think of any other examples, textually, that reflect christian, liberal, capitalistic american society by griffins design of worldbuilding rn but im sure there are more around there

- lup and barry becoming 'grim reapers' ish at the end makes me withered i cant explain it either it feels like death cops and totally not what theyd do but i guess all the escaped spirits are 'bad' whatever

- dont know how to start this one but its very interesting seeing where the brothers' familiarity with each other and doing improv with each other pay off in the story. like they so easily can fit into roles and tell what the other is implying and connect the dots of character and reaction and rolling with a story so naturally it feels scripted. justin is especially good at this there were SO many 'oh shit' moments from taako it was awesome 

- you know when someones like, comic artist/painter/fanartist/animator/whatever made me want to get into art? i have something to tell you about the adventure zone ost

[badbitch-mel]

2 Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it?

4 Do you sleep on your back, stomach or side?

5 Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?

6 Do you prefer drawing or writing?

7 What’s your ideal number of blankets to sleep with?

12 Who are five (or more) people you want to hug right now?

13 Fears?

14 What’s your favorite color? 

15 What’s your favorite season?

17 Want any piercings? Where?

18 Who is the last person you texted?

19 Do you have a best friend? How long have you been friends? 

20 What/who do you miss? 

21 How was your day today? 

22 How much sleep did you get last night? 

23 Do you believe in aliens? 

25 What’s your favorite decade?

26 What are some seemingly childish things you like? 

27 What’s your favorite book? Or just one you’ve read a few times? 

29 Does it take you a long time to make decisions? 

30 What are you looking forward to in the near future? 

31 What are you looking forward to in the distant future? 

32 If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go? 

33 Do you sleep with your door open or closed? 

34 What’s your favorite flower? 

35 Do you currently have a squish? 

36 Do you like your middle name? 

37 Do you prefer dogs or cats? 

38 Do you have any phobias? 

40 Do you like the beach? Do you prefer it sunny or cloudy? 

41 What’s your favorite cartoon? 

42 Tag 5 of your favorite blogs

44 Who was the last person you said “I love you” to? 

45 Is there anyone you would die for? 

46 What do you need when you’re sad? 

47 Have you memorized your phone number? 

48 Who’s someone you can trust with your life? 

49 What does your last text say?  Good luck, Have fun! <3

2. coffee! hazelnut creamer, 2-3 sugars

4. I sleep on my right side

5. I sleep with 3 sloths hehe

6. writing for sure I am not artistic

7. 2-3! depends on how cold I am. and if there’s a fan :)

12. I want to hug everyone but no one at the same time

13. i’m afraid of water, public speaking & fast cars

14. purple & pink!

15. I love fall & spring

17. I already have all the facial piercings I want, so I want to do my ears!!

18. my coworker

19. my best friend cassie, we’ve been friends 8 years now :’)

20. I miss feeling MENTALLY STABLE

21. my day sucked and i’m looking forward to smoking and going to bed

22. I got maybe 6-7 hours, definitely not enough

23. YES aliens are real

25. I miss the 90s/2000s

26. I LOVE scooby doo. and just cartoons in general

27. I don’t read lol

29. yes I am an indecisive bitch

30. my lash certification class :’)

31. death

32. far far away from here

33. CLOSED so the demons don’t come in

34. daisies & hydrangeas!

35. what is a squish

36. i do!!

37. meow :3

38. everything is scary

40. I like the beach, hate the sand. I like the sun but rainy and cloudy is great too

41. big mouth, fairly odd parents, SCOOBY DOO

42. @invisible-college @c0lorlessra1nbows @abigaillyne @spacekatdet @ce-ci

44. my mama

45. my family 4 sure

46. a blunt and a tranquilizer

47. if u don’t know your own number…..goodbye. but yes I have the easiest phone number in the world

48. not myself that’s for sure

49. “I got you a present” to my mom

THIS WAS SO HARD IM SO SORRY I HOPE I DID OK THANK U 💕

[marvelsimp]

THE NEW KID: Leaving

Ch. 1

The New Kid Masterlist

-This is going to be a series so I’m going to do my best so that you may read it in any order.  Also, I’m going to apologize in advance for my writing, any tips are appreciated. 

Pairing: Peter x Lesbian!reader (Platonic duh)

Genre: ANGST, fluff

Warnings: Homophobia (being kicked out), mentions of death, vague mention of suicide, general angst, swearing (I swear fuck is like the only one I know smh)

Description: Reader gets kicked out by her homophobic parents, Peter invites her to stay with him, and reader reflects on her and Peter’s relationship.  

-Takes place after far from home and Gamora, Vision, Loki, Heimdall, Nat, and Tony are still alive, Steve didn’t leave, and Mysterio didn’t reveal Peter as Spiderman. (aka my dream MCU)

Reader’s Powers: Healer, telepath, and empath.

Word Count: 2,350 

“You can stay the night but, in the morning, you have to leave” You could feel it all, the disgust, the anger, the sadness. Every bit of what they were feeling was being thrown at you.  You didn’t even get to tell them about your powers.  You thought that maybe they would understand that maybe they would love you enough… but they didn’t.  You were in shock; your parents were throwing you out because you like girls.  You made your way back to your room to pack the essentials and figure out where you would go. Peter. He had told you before that if this happed or if you ever needed to you could stay with him.

(Y/n): Does the offer still stand

Peter: you told them?

(Y/n): yeah… theyre kicking me out 

Peter: Im so sorry

     You and Peter first met through Instagram almost a year ago.  He posted some picture of him and Ned posing with a LEGO model of the Death Star. You decided you had nothing to lose so you messaged him.  That was that easiest friend you had ever made, and he was the only friend you had now.  

You got to know each other over the months, you would text and facetime, sometimes you would play Minecraft or Animal Crossing or whatever game you both had your hands on. You would talk for hours about Star Wars, video games, and even The Avengers.  It was amazing. Then you told him.

“I’m gay”

He looked shocked at first, which scared you a little, then his shocked expression morphed into a grin.

“Now, I have someone else I can talk about girls to.”

You laughed tears forming in your eyes. You felt a huge weight come off your chest.  He told you about MJ and how he planned to ask her out during the trip to Europe. You told him about your huge crush on Captain Marvel and it was perfect. You had someone who loved you for you and didn’t want anything more or less, someone you could tell everything to.

* * * * *

     “Oh my god,” you thought to yourself as you put it altogether.  You felt like you were going to faint or throw up or both.

Night monkey on tv had the same powers as spiderman, spiderman was from New York, and Peter was from New York…  The late nights, the weird bruises, and cuts, injures; him suddenly having to leave out of nowhere. Every bit of it made sense.  Peter Parker is Spider-Man. Your best friend is fucking Spider-Man.

At first you were shocked, then you were excited, then you were scared. You rushed to your phone to call him. You dialed his number and nothing... no answer. That’s when the panic started. 

(Y/n): Are you okay?

There was no answer for minutes then hours. You were really panicking now, he usually texted back within ten minutes, but it was now six hours later. 

(Y/n): I saw what happened are you ok

(Y/n): Pete youre scaring me please text me

You couldn’t sleep or eat or do anything, all you could think about was him.  Is he alive? Is he injured? Did he lose his phone? These thoughts swirled in your head; you couldn’t breathe.  Finally, fifteen hours later you heard a ding.

Peter: Im ok my phone died

(Y/n): Can you call me

Peter: Sorry Im getting on the plane to head home can I call you then?

(Y/n): yeah

Your panic calmed and you felt like you could breathe again but the fear and the anger were still there.  You were furious not that he didn’t tell you, you couldn’t care less about that there were still plenty of things that you hadn’t told him yet.  But you were furious at the universe, that your friend could die, that your friend could be taken away again.  That you could lose that person that helped keep you stable, help keep you grounded.  You couldn’t lose someone like that again, the last one almost killed you and losing Peter would destroy you.

Ten hours later he FaceTimed you.

“Hey, sorry about not answering.  My phone died and all this stuff happened and- “

“Are you Spider-Man?” 

“Wh-what?” He was shocked, another one of his friends figured it out. He couldn’t believe it.

“Are. You. Spider-Man.” You replied bluntly with your brows furrowed. You could barely keep the tears from flowing out.

He let out a sigh shaking his head, seeing no reason to lie so he nodded, “Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” you breathed out. 

He looked up back at the screen confused, “Y-yeah I’m okay. I have a few scratches but nothing bad.”

“You could’ve died,” you grunted as your breath began to pick up.

“I’m okay Y/n. It’s ok,” he looked at you confused but mostly concerned because you were usually level.  You tried your best to hide your negative emotions from others, so he only ever saw you smiling.

“NO! No, it’s not okay! You could’ve died. I could’ve lost you; I could’ve lost my best friend AGAIN. Two best friends in two years. I barely survived when she… I-I don’t even know what would happen if I lost you, too!” You were crying, you didn’t even notice, you didn’t even care.

He froze, not knowing what to say not knowing what to do.  He just looked at you. He didn’t know that you never talked about your friends, he assumed you had them. He just thought you would open up when you were ready, but he never predicted this.

“Y/n, I-I’m okay. I’m alive and I am safe. I promise you that- that I’m going to be okay.” He just stared at the screen again. “Do you… want to talk about her.”

“You would’ve liked her,” you smiled while the tears were still streaming down your face.  “Ava was the most stubborn person on the planet.  She was kind… and talented… she was so smart… she wanted to go and help animals that are going extinct. She was my everything... and then she… she was gone.” You sobbed uncontrollably, not even stopping to breathe.

You’d never cried for her before, when you had found out it destroyed you.  You were numb to everything, but you hid it with a smile always saying you were fine.  Then you met Peter, he saved you and he didn’t even know it.  He helped you feel ok again.  He helped you feel alive again instead of a walking corpse.

“Y/n, you need to breathe.” You heard through the phone that was now lying on the bed as you continued to sob. “Please, just breathe.”

All that he wanted to do was hold you and comfort you, he knew what it felt like to lose someone. He knew that pain and wanted to help you but all he could do was talk and listen so that’s what he did.

You collected yourself, it took a while, but you did it.  “I’m breathing,” you said letting out a slight chuckle.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked with worried eyes.

“Will you- could you just stay with me, till I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

      You called him the next day asking about Spider-Man.  You asked how his powers worked, how long he had them, how his web shooters worked and how he made them, you even asked if the Start Internship was really just¬¬¬ him being Spider-Man. He answered every question you had and then some.

“Um, I have something to confess,” you said nervously, “I have…powers, too.” 

‘WHAT,” he screamed from excitement while jumping out of his chair.  “You have powers, too,” he said with wide eyes and a huge grin.

You went on to explain your powers of telepathy, healing, and empathy.  You told him as much as you knew about them and how you didn’t know their limits yet.  He just listened and grinned at every word you said.  

“Can I tell Mr. Stark about you powers?”

“What?!?!”

“I already talk about you enough to him.  Can I tell him about you powers? He might be able to make you something to help you.”

“You talk about me to Tony fucking Stark?!?!?”

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. Of course, I talk about you. So, can I tell him.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You can tell IRON MAN about my powers.”

     Life went on from there, you continued to talk to him like normal.  Nothing had come up from him telling Stark about your powers or at least nothing yet.  You had grown closer and you would talk about when you had a bad day, and he would tell you about his friendly neighborhood adventures.  Then Christmas came and a few days later you deiced to come out to your parents…

* * * * * * 

      Next thing you knew you were on a plane headed to New York then you were in a taxi headed to Peter’s apartment.  You couldn’t stop thinking about how they felt: disgust, anger, and greatest of all sadness.  You felt this relief of finally being able to be your self but also the terrible pain of your parents abandoning you.  You somehow made it through the plane and the taxi without crying.

Then there he was standing outside of your taxi, smiling with sad eyes. He quickly got your suitcase out of the trunk while you got out of taxi and put on your backpack.  When the taxi drove away you both just stood there for a moment, neither of you knowing exactly what to say or do. There was a rush of emotions from both of you: happiness, excitement, and most of all sadness.  Peter was mourning with you.

He walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your body in a tight, welcomed embrace.  It was then when tears streamed down your face. You sobbed into his shoulder and neck for what seemed like days.  Then he pulled away, “Let’s go inside.” 

When he opened the door there was Aunt May, the only interactions you had with her where quick hellos or stupid jokes you told her about Peter.  So, it was nice to actually meet her.  She gave you a soft hug as soon as you came in the door.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay here,” you said pulling out of the hug.  “I promise I will pull my weight and get a job as soon as I can.”

“Of course, sweetheart, all of Peter’s friends are welcome here and don’t worry about that right now we can talk about it in a few weeks. For now, you guys do what you want, and I got some work I gotta do so I will see guys in a few hours.” She gave your hand a squeeze, grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

You put your backpack on the couch, what was going to be your bed for a little while and sat down putting your face in your hands.  Peter put your suitcase up against the wall, then he sat down next to you putting his hand on your back.  

“I’m so sorry, y/n.”

You started to sob again. Peter just wrapped his arms around you pulling you into his chest.  You cried and cried and cried.  Eventually you fell asleep.

     The next few days were rough for you.  The first two were full of tears and crying but also full of laughing and smiling. The third day you were there was New Years Eve, Peter asked you if you wanted to go to see the ball drop, you declined.  You told him the large crowd would probably overwhelm your powers and that some alone time would be nice.  Peter understood so he went with MJ and Ned while Aunt May went to a party.  

It was nice to be alone.  You cried again but for most of the night you just laid there thinking of everything and thinking of nothing.  You were worn out and fell asleep before the clock struck twelve.

You woke up early the next day, which was a little weird, but it was nice.  When peter woke up, he deiced to show you around.  He didn’t show you the big touristy places, but he showed you where he would watch for thieves, where he got sandwiches, or donuts, or ice cream.  You just enjoyed the day doing nothing important at all.  

The day after that he invited MJ and Ned over.  You had never talked to them much less met them.  You were nervous and excited so Peter eased your fears and told you that, “They will love you.”  And they did, it went amazingly.  They were both huge nerds just like you and Peter.  Ned was loud and very vocal; his laugh could shake the world.  MJ on the other hand was quiet, only speaking up when she felt it was needed.  She was a lot like you, but she didn’t hide behind smiles like you did, she showed everything she felt even if it wasn’t very loudly. You got why Peter liked her, they fit like a glove.  

Most of the night was filled with laughter and smiling.  You played video games, board games, harassed Peter, and overall had a nice time.  A few times you could’ve sworn you felt a pinch of jealousy from MJ, which brought you some comfort and reassurance towards Peter.  It meant that he hadn’t outed you to MJ which you appreciated.  You felt comfortable and safe for once, you didn’t feel afraid to talk about whatever for once.  They left right before midnight, both with smiles on their faces as they did.

“We gotta go to bed,” Peter grinned. “I got some big plans for your birthday tomorrow.”

You had forgotten, tomorrow’s your birthday, you’re turning seventeen.  You nodded and smiled at him.  You were tempted to read his mind and find out what the surprise was but decided it might be better to just go along with it.  So, you changed into your PJ’s and fell asleep on Peter’s couch.

Next Chapter

Arriving

[pettyprocrastination]

I don't even know what I am asking for but can we get some headcannons for Stitches? Maybe some NSFW ones or possibly just some cute fluff showing the family dynamics with everyone? 🥺🥺

Thank you for gracing us with all your amazing work, it's honestly just, mwah - ✨

aaaa thank you so much!!! so I know this says nsfw but i also want to talk about stitches as a general gal (aka you) so were gonna delve into that a lil bit. (also sprinkle in a lil sumsum well see more of in future chapters)

@captainsamwlsn @cinewhore @ficsilike-reblogged (idk if i should tag those on the taglist for the fic because these are just short headcanons so uhh????)

You never went to college. Never felt the need to really. You worked from a young age for your father, even if you never thought of it as working. Sweeping up the shop when you got off from school as a child, sorting fabrics and clothes. He always told you he didnt want you to help “that’s why i have employees, little bee.” but you’d just smile wide and tell him you liked helping him. 

At a young age you loudly told him you demanded he teach you how to sew. Because you wanted to grow up to be just like him. He began to teach you during breaks at work and everyday after you came home from school, it was a quick hobby for you to pick up. If you weren’t sewing, you were watching him sew, and taking mental note of how calm he was and how fluid he’d move his hands to adjust the fabric and so forth. Any scraps were quickly snatched up by your tiny hands and taken off to your own sewing machine where you’d fashion it into whatever little project you were working on. 

Your father did actually want you to go to college. You were a smart kid, intuitive and stubborn, if you wanted something you would work until your bones ached to get you one step closer to it. He knew you were destined for more than this old shop, but everyday after finishing your homework you’d be by his side, listening intently as he taught you how to hem a dress and then excitedly showing him the latest shirt or stuffed animal you made. 

Even well into highschool, he talked to you about nearby universities and even some out of state. Sure the money would be a tight squeeze but he’d do it, for you. You were his everything. 

You gave in, told him you planned on taking a few economics classes at a local community college. “So i can help keep the shop running.” you told him with a proud smile. 

He didn’t want you to run the shop. The place was doing well but he knew one day itd run into the ground. A mall was opening up nearby, he knew that would put them out of business for good. He just hoped it’d be by the time you were gone, in college and pursuing a good job, a stable career. He wanted to make you proud, and he did that more than enough when you were young. He didn't want to shatter your image of your old man as a business owner by letting you know the shop was going to die. 

It wasn’t until the night of your junior prom that he finally gave in. When he saw you bounce down the stairs in a magnificent gown. Something that looked like it could be seen on a runway, something that surely could cost hundreds. 

But he knew. From the way you giggled and twirled, that you had made it yourself. 

“Made by yours truly! All the girls are gonna be so jealous! They're gonna wish they had come to us for their dresses!”

He knew then and there, you were gonna continue to bloom and create all your life. That he’d have to keep the business running for you to take over and watch it bloom

After prom, many girls came to you for your sewing services, often coming to you to make cheap copies of the latest brands and swarming you for dresses for graduation and future dances. 

You began to take classes at the community college your senior year, doubling your workload. your father often found you snoozing at the dinner table, textbook open and smushed against your face. 

He couldn’t have been more proud of you.

More about your father. 

His name is edmund, but goes by Eddie!

This man has so many friends. He's the type of guy who smiles and the clouds part. He makes friends literally anywhere he goes. 

Which in turn means that you had a metric shitton of adult friends growing up. Just random grown ups who'd come by for every holiday, pat you on the head and ask how school was. 

It was odd at times, realizing how much of a large unconventional family you had. But at some moments it was comforting. 

Like the two days you spent in the hospital after your father’s car crash. Many came and went, offering their comfort to you as you hoped and prayed for his survival and strength. 

They offered their comfort once more at the funeral but you were less receiving then. 

One of the closest men in your non-blood related family was Rodrigo. A portly man who owned a 24 hour restaurant just down the street from your sewing shop. 

In your early twenties, you and his son Benjamin dated for a few months. You laughed and traveled and did all the stupid shit you were supposed to do in your twenties together, but ultimately decided you were better as friends. 

But his father would always fondly call you the one that got away because his “dumbass of a son couldn't man up and make you his daughter-in-law.”

You never met your mother. Your father didn't have any pictures of her in the house either. 

You would ask about her constantly as a child, he always gave you the same response.

“Your mama and I had a fleeting relationship little bee, it just wasn't in the cards for us to stick it out together.” He would always get this wistful smile though. 

“But i'm okay with that. Because she gave me you. And you're the best damn thing that could've happened to me.”

In his last moments, your father had a smile on his face and realization in his eyes as if he saw somebody before him. Some nurses said he saw an angel, ready to lead him to heaven. 

You always wondered if he saw your mother. 

Though you had never seen the woman, you dreamt of her often. But they were always vague. A warm smile, a gentle caress to your cheek and a sweet voice speaking to you. 

You never knew what she was saying, but you always felt safe with her. 

if you couldn’t tell im back on my maxwell bullshit so if yall want some asks or headcanons feed ME BABEYYY

[nishistravelingblog]

So i finished wonder egg priority

Things I like about the show:

lovable characters

some lgbt representation

beautiful concept for a story

interesting plot points and turns

representative for people with depression and who don’t have stable homes who are fighting to stay alive and make it through

such a cool and interesting shift of the anime being about one thing and then turning into something so much bigger

character growth

important life lessons with each girl that they are saving

animation is awesome

Things that ruined the show for me and is why I cant rate it higher than a 7/10 (that’s being generous):

SO MANY PLOT POINTS AROUND YOUNG GIRLS IN LOVE WITH WAY OLDER MEN AND THEM MAKING IT SEEM LIKE ITS A CUTE LOL NORMAL THING???

THROWING STUFF IN AT LAST MINUTE AND NOT REALLY EXPLAINING EVERYTHING AND JUST BEING LIKE YEP THIS IS IT

THROWING OUT ALL THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT LAST EPISODE

RANDOMLY MAKING IT APPOINT TO FEED THE GIRLS THEIR OWN PETS IN THOSE EPISODES LIKE IM SURE YOU COULDVE MADE THEM TRAUMATIZED WITHOUT SHOWING AND DESCRIBING THAT HOLY FUCK???

MISREPRESENTING IMPORTANT ISSUES AT TIMES AND MAKING THEM VERY CUT AND DRY WHEN ITS NOT THAT SIMPLE

GOSH DID I MENTION THROWING THINGS IN LAST MINUTE, BARELY EXPLAINING THEM, AND THEN JUST MOVING ON LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED AND THEN EXPECTING PEOPLE TO GET EXCITED ABOUT THE PLOT WHEN THEY NEVER COME UP AGAIN OR THEY MAKE IT WORSE BY UNDERCUTTING EVERYTHING THAT JUST HAPPENED

IM NOT EVEN MAD THAT THE LAST EPISODE WAS ALL RECAP. IM MAD THAT THEY THREW IN LIKE 8 DIFFERENT HUGE PLOT POINT. FORGOT ABOUT THEM. NEVER EXPLAINED THEM. AND THEN JUST BRUSHED OVER THEM LIKE ITS NOTHING AND THE FACT THAT THE ACTUAL NEW STUFF WAS LIKE 16 MINUTES MADE ME BLOOD BOIL THATS WHAT YOU'VE BEEN HYING UP THIS ENTIRE TIME

Now with that being said, I heard about how terrible it was for the writers and everyone working on this show. I don't fault them, it was a bad situation but i think this doesn't mean the show cant still be criticized. I was still entertained and if there is another season and i will probably watch it, but, those were the reasons i wouldn't rate it any higher. The same goes for other shows that i absolutely love such as soul eater and 18if. The ending of the soul eater anime still angers me till this day and i watched it in middle school but i still love the show and all its characters. I do agree with everyone saying this was the best we could get with the time they had and all the productions issues. I hope that if there is a 2nd season, that there will be less problems and the crew can feel a lot better about what they are putting out. I wouldn't go as far as saying a wasted my time with this show by all means, although all the hype around this show at the beginning felt disingenuous. It felt like some people really did enjoy it and the others were just talking about it for the hype because (in my opinion) the first episodes were good but not “anime of the year worthy” “awe inspiring” “new top anime” type of good. In my opinion they were great but if they would've been able to execute the plot how they wanted, then i would probably agree.  

Overall: this anime is still pretty entertaining and i would recommend this to someone but maybe include some of my criticism when i do. I still enjoyed it and hopefully there will be more for this show coming out in the future.

[lisandyk]

the first of my more detailed posts abt each of the human souls! these are basically just lil intros to each of the characters with drawings of a bit of their lives on the surface before falling down!

onto the basics for this lil dude! this is tim, the purple soul, perseverance. they’re 14 years old and use they/them pronouns!

some notes since i don’t have a clear idea of their whole personality

-they’re pretty introspective over all, always aware of what of what they’re doing wrong or right

-they like keeping journals, hence the notebook. they end up doodling in them a lot, but at the end of the day, they always end up with a somewhat complete entry

-they don’t consider themself to be good at a lot, but it never crosses their mind to just give up on anything

-they want to be a writer someday. they’re very technically skilled, but don’t have the same creativity or ideas of most kids. they end up writing and editing for their friends’ concepts a lot.

-they probably have several mental disorders idk i haven’t thought too far yet but i get the feeling they’re one of the least emotionally stable of the souls

-they’re really bad with kids and animals with the only exception being spiders (i didnt even mean to connect this to muffet while i was writing but i just realized shes the one who turns you purple why did that happen)

-they got the furthest out of the other souls when they fought asgore

-they’re really forgetful sometimes. they never clean their glasses which is why they’re all cloudy and everyone wonders how the fuck they can see (i may be writing abt myself here a lil bit)

-im thinking maybe they met gaster in the underground? in my mind they were the first to fall down so he might have been alive at that point idk

[foryouthegays]

rendog is afraid of horse lips: a transcript

Ok everyone! Time to transcribe Ren being afraid of horse lips. This is on his July 1st stream (today), titled “Minecraft & Chill [Hermitcraft Vanilla Server]” on his Twitch account, rendogtv. This starts at 2:54:40, and ends at 3:05:15. this took me a solid hour to do. please give it some love. 

Here’s a link to the stream, already at the time it starts: https://www.twitch.tv/videos/667092785?t=02h54m41s Starts under cut (if I can get the cut to work on Tumblr,,) 

Yo Cordinho (twitch user Cordinho88) with 100 bitties, thank you dude! [reading donation] “four years ago you told me you were most scared of horse lips, [laughing] is this still the case?” yes. Yes, there's not much in uh, in life that scares me, my dudes, ok? Ya know? I’m a pretty tough guy, I’ve been through a lot of things in my life, survived a lot of things, gotten through a lot of things, [pauses] ya know? I mean, I’m an immigrant, I immigrated, I struggled, I bled, I’ve done a whole bunch of things in my life, there's, there's not a lot of things that scare me, but uh [pauses game to go search “HORSE LIPS” in Safari] there is, there is one thing that scares me, in uh, in life, ok? [types] there's one thing that terrifies me.

 And uh, yeah, this is a great example, this is a fantastic example of what I’m talking about, right here, let me just zoom in on that, here we go [pulls a google search of HORSE LIPS, focused on a picture of a light brown horse pushing out its lips] horse lips. Horse lips scare the living bagingle out of me, my dudes. Ok? They are horrifying, terrifying. I can’t even look at this [the picture of the horse lips], this is traumatizing, I can’t look at them lips [takes tab out of screen, continues playing Minecraft]. And uh, and look, let me tell you why!

When I was a young child, my mum took me to a horse farm, or like a, uh, a ranch, or whatever, ya know, I don’t know what they’re called. And um, at the time, my mum wanted me to meet, I don't know, maybe I was like, twelve, [pause] right? My mum wanted me to meet, to uh start socializing more with uh, with girls, m’kay? And uh, she, uh, one of her friends had a, uh, a daughter my age, who uh, was into horses. And they, they had like uh, a horse ranch or whatever, um, I think it was their family business, you know, they had, like, horses or whatever, and so, one afternoon we went over to, uh, the horse farm, and my mum didn’t tell me that I was going to meet the girl, right? Like my mum was sneaky that way, she was sneaky! She didn’t tell me that there was going to be a girl involved, ya know? She was like, “oh, we’re going to go and visit my friend,” and I was like, “oh, I don’t want to go, ya know? I wanna play video games,” and she's like “no, you gotta come, we’re gonna go visit my friend, and uh, it's gonna be fun. You have to go, it's compulsory,” and I was like, “ok, fine” and [soft laugh] we went to this horse farm, and uh, lo and behold, there was this girl! 

And, my dudes, listen, I’m, ya know, this girl was [sing song-y voice] fineeeeee, damn! I mean, at- at that age I hadn’t, I don't even think I had spoken to a girl, so, ya know, I was already like, completely, [laughs] completely lost as to what to do or what to say. All I can remember, though, is that, ya know, she was very pretty, and I was like, “ok, awesome,” [laughs], I was digging it, ya know?, I was like, “yeah, this is, this is great, it’s gonna go great.” 

Anyway, she was like, uh, like a horse girl, ya know? Like, she was into horses and whatnot, obviously, uh, she had like three horses, they were like uh, a really wealthy family, and um, at one point, like, the mums were, you know, they were like, “we’ve got to get the kids to go and hang out together, like, you know, talk to each other and stuff,” so, uh, her mother was like, “hey! Why don’t you go show him your horses?” And, you know, [stutters] a perfectly innocent suggestion, and at the time, it seemed like a good idea.

So, the girl and I awkwardly went over to the stables, while the parents stayed, uh, you know, in the main house, drinking tea and watching on, vicariously, as we, we pranced down to the, uh, stables!, if you will excuse the equestrian pun, I do have a BA in English Literature after all [pauses]. 

Anyway, we got to the, uh the stables, and the horses were like, in the, their, uh, their cage, well, its not a cage, like, uh, what do you call it? [laughs] um, it’s not a cage, it's like a, uh, enclosure? I guess?, and you know, they can put their heads through like, like over the fence, and you can feed them apples and whatnot, right? 

And you know, we were just chatting, and whatnot, and we seemed to be getting along pretty, pretty good, I think? I think things were going pretty well, [louder and faster] until she suggested that I feed the fricken horse. I’ve never fed a horse before, and I dunno if you guys have ever seen a horse in real life, but when you’re like, twelve years old, a horse is massive [pause], ok? When you’re twelve, you can pretty much stand under a horse, [pause] ok? Uh, its a beast. It is a giant beast with massive lips, an, and massive teeth, [pause] m’kay? And, that horse was eyeballing me, my dudes. 

Listen. I’ve never been eyeballed by a horse before, until that day. And I’ve never seen a horse eyeball a human before either. I thought horses and humans were supposed to be friends. That horse was eyeballing me, lookin’ me up and down like I’ve never seen, my dudes. I walk into that stable and that horse was like, “yo, back up, back up, whatchu comin’ in here for, whatchu comin’ in here for, boy! [scoffs/ laughs] don’tchu be touchin my girl, now,” ya know what I’m saying? Like, that horse knew I was up to no good. That horse knew that I was, uh, ya know, and at this stage I was thinking, woah, maybe there's an opportunity for a kiss here, ya know what im sayin, [kiss noises], a little uh, a little peck, so I’m, you know, I’m uh [stutters] I’m not gonna blame the horse, the horse knew, I had ulterior motives, the horse was onto me, and he was not happy, and them lips man, them lips were quivering, [laughs]

Anyway, I’d never fed a horse before, [laughs] and of course, the way that you feed a h, a horse, is you put the food on like, the palm of your hand, you gotta hold your hand real flat, and then it uses its lips to like, chomp off the food off your, your palm, ya know? Like [weird chewing noises], like them lips go crazy!, they’re like, you know, they eat the food off your—and the reason you gotta keep your hand flat is if you don't, the thing is gonna bite your fricken fingers off!, [quieter and slower] listen, I’m not gonna go feeding an animal, no matter how cute, it is, if it can potentially bite my fingers off, [pauses], alright? There's no need for it! There is no need, to feed, another living creature, who can bite your fingers off, ok? It doesn’t make any sense. 

Anyway, obviously, wanting to impress the girl, and you know, mayb— potentially, [kiss noise] get a little smooch action goin, ya know? Like, I wanted to uh, you know, I was like, ok, I’ll feed the fricken horse, and she showed me how to do it, ya know, like, she flattened her hand real flat, and the horse like, chomped on the uh, you know, some kind of, uh, cut up carrots or something, out of, out of her hand, [louder] and now its my turn to feed the fricken horse, put the ca, carrots on my hand, I'm so scared I’m shaken’, and this horse has been eyeball’n me, my dudes, let me tell you, that horse had fire in its eyes, it was not happy, that I was messin with its girl, okay? And when I put my hand up to that horse, them lips went cray cray, and I'm pretty sure, to this day, that horse was tryin’a chomp my fingers off, I’m telllin’ ya, he wasn’t just lippin up the carrots, he was goin, he was goin ham, he was goin for it, and I may or may not have done a little, like, v, very um, unmanly [uah! Scream noise] as the horses lips went for my fingers, and I dropped the carrots, and it was in that moment, that the girl realized that I would never be a horse person [pause] and thus! No kiss was ever received, or did I ever see or speak to the girl again.

Also! Hate horse lips now, ok? I hate them, I’m terrified of them, I could go the rest of my life without ever seeing another horse lip ever again, and I’d be a perfectly happy human being, there ain’t no need for them lips, and there definitely ain’t no need to be feeding a creature [pause] who can bite your fricken fingers off, ok? I’m just putting it out there, my dudes. [pause, laugh] and so yes, that is, uh, that’s the story of why I don’t like horse lips [laughs, pauses] [laughing] oh, goodness gracious, what a ridiculous, what have we been talking about tonight, guys, we’ve lost our marbles in tonight's stream I think, things have gotten out of hand around here. 

[normieexclusive]

How My MC wins the boys over:

Ah, um, this really went off from the original story line. This was also supposed to be a short simple thing but then I started thinking and two hours later Im left with a bunch of messy notes and thoughts

The first to fall victim is:

Mammon turns out to be easy, literally MC just shows him an ounce of kindness and he takes it and runs. 

Unconsciously MC gets much softer around him then the others (A combination of total trust in him and wanting to show how much love he deserves despite his brothers treating him harshly) 

 hes the one that gets the most kisses, the most hugs, and its great for them at first because they get to make fun of the dumb ass second born getting doted on but some silly little human and (while denying it constantly) loving it. 

But then the others start to actually like MC and Mammon can nearly feel the six pairs of eyes glaring him down as his Human showers him with all the affection before going about their day. 

(There’s one moment where, while Mammons sitting on the floor and MC is on the bed and he's making fun of one of his brothers that MC just grabs him by the back of his shirt collar- with only a finger- pulls him in between her legs (So his back is to her) and gives him a kiss on the top of his head as she coos "Mammon, be nice to your brothers" and he shuts down for the rest of the day) 

Second, but the bestest of friends!:

With Levi its by being a grade A nerd and overthinking.

 She reads all of TSL for their big quiz, and watches the movies with Beel and mammon, but on top of that the nerd goes back to the books and starts to annotate everything. 

She starts digging for any bit of subtext she can find and jotting down notes in the margins, in her notebook, on sticky notes. 

It becomes enough of an issue that she has to buy a new set because the first (Old and used) ones she got off of akuzon are ruined with her messy scrawling.

 During the quiz they are evenly matched (if only because shes given such easy questions. Shes pissed but at the same time oh gosh she is really not up to Levis level) and somewhere along the way she just... Goes off about this theory of hers and reading the subtext because she needs to get this out and it seems like Levis the only one that can really keep up with her 

(She tried to talk to Mammon and Beel but, honestly, they're as helpful as you'd think)

 She forgets about the whole quiz and yanks out her vandalized book in order to debate with Levi about a part. Levi is horrified at the state of her TSL book and nearly goes apeshit right there, but then she shows just how much of a nerd she truly is by showing him the much nicer version she brought along

("And its even signed! Can you believe that! I didn't order a signed one cause they were too expensive but somehow the boxes must have gotten switched up! Ah! Levi! You have a shrine in you're room for them right! You should have these copies, I think you'll take more care of them then I can!")

Whenever they have a conversation its gibberish to everyone around them but they get it and that’s what matters.

(They spend nights just in his room and no one knows what they're doing so they assume the worst. The others always send Levi dirty looks when it happens, and Levi always looks a little more refreshed after every one.

They're having anime/gaming/TSL marathons but Levi lives for the jealousy that rolls off his brothers so hes not telling them anytime soon)

Somewhere starting after her pact with Levi and after the Lucifer/Satan Body switch:

The whole fiasco with Levi actually leads to Satan warming up to her!

 He had initially brushed her off as a soon to be Lucifer Lapdog (and also kind of dumb) but now he's interested. 

Someone whos capable of dissecting a book like that has to at least have some ability to reason, he just cant figure out if that moment was a fluke or if shes actually smart. 

He refuses to start a conversation with her like a normal person and instead resorts to pranking her at every opportunity hoping to see if she’ll think her way out of it (He does leave some hints for when ones about to happen, but gets frustrated when she walks right past them)

 It backfires on him tremendously because, somehow, they never seem to work! it goes to the point where it becomes rube goldberg levels of pranks that are always almost-but-not-quite misses because she bent down at just the right time to pick up a shiny rock. 

Satan is at his wits end and ready to rip someone apart

 his pranks start to extend to the others, it’s only after mammon mentions such that it finally clicks in her...

That same day she willingly walks into a pie in the face and Satan nearly cries. 

After he starts to rile her up more often with words. He learns very quickly that she is a fantastic debate partner and, if he can find the right button to push, he’ll get her going for hours as they go back and forth

(And!! Even better!! Not only does she listen to everything he says and waits her turn! But Shes willing to change her opinion when she thinks he has a better point. When she loses She’ll come back hours later to drag more information out of him.

That’s usually not the case though, because Satan finds way too much enjoyment out of playing devils advocate and will simply choose whatever is opposition her POV. 

He tried to argue about how she couldn't possibly like a flavor of candy she was eating because he didn't like it and nearly gave her an aneurysm)

(To his complete embarrassment, though, he has gotten hard during one of their debates and nearly lost because she looked fucking amazing as she shouted at him)

A bond that starts right at their first meeting and grows throughout her entire time there:

Beel is scary at first, and Lucifer- for some forsaken reason- made it her job to make sure Beel doesn't clean out the fridge every single day.

Shes scared of the man that seemed more then willing to eat her, but shes more scared of whatever punishment Lucifer would deal if she didn't at least try.

 So she goes

 It only takes her one run in with Beel and his puppy dog eyes (Because how could she just stop him like that!! How awful of her!!) for her to figure out that

 A: this man is harmless and...

B:she knows what hunger pains feel like and the guilt wells up

Still she knows she can let him go so she spends her grimm allowance on buying ingredients to cook with and makes him huge meals as "offerings"

 It doesn't always stop him from eating half the fridge, but sometimes it seems like he's willing to actually savor what she makes. 

It gives her enough time to save the ingredients for dinner that night. (and If Beel sometimes wanders over to the kitchen while shes watching so shell make something for him, well there’s no harm done

The bastard pavlov dogged her and shes none the wiser) 

Slow and steady, the pieces fall into place naturally:

Asmo turns out to be another easy one, to her shock.

Even with MCs jealousy over how stunning Amso looks and how easy it is for him... they just seem to drift to each other

Starts with a comment on Asmos sharp eyeliner one day, and Asmo asking MC what shampoo she uses. 

Then the next day the same brand shampoo (And conditioner) will be left outside his door. And after MC will walk into the bathroom first thing in the morning only to wonder whom the fuck applied eyeliner to her in her sleep

It starts with days where they greet each other in the morning, to Stopping to chat for a few moments before heading on with their morning routine, to them walking down together, to Asmo fussing over her disheveled look after just waking up ‘-seriously Asmo not everyone can just roll out of bed like some Demons and look stunning’ - to ‘MC move over a scooch I need more room’ ‘Asmodeus this is my bed’ ‘Well how are we both supposed to fit when its so small!’, to weekly spa days and Gossiping about the others.

Its such an smooth transition that they both feel like it had always been as it was- two friends whispering secrets to each other late at night, pinky promises made over arbitrary things, laying so close that they can feel the others breathing. If maybe he leaned in a little closer they would--

--Oh... She fell asleep again. 

And he curls up next to her, blanket wrapped around both of them (That is, until Asmo hogs it later) and sleeps peacefully

A build up of trust, and a moment of venerability that finally knocks down his walls:

Swallows her pride for Lucifer

Its hard to explain in words for her, but she tells him of her family.

A family that is good but dosnt care, that used to leave her alone for hours on end when she was far too young. She says it with a smile too, admits that it helped her become as independent as she was, that she could cook for herself before she was 10.

She tells him of her younger brother. Someone she tried her best to love as much as she could only for him to, one day, just stop talking to her. Years trying to build back an abruptly cut connection only for him to snap one day and change his tune to something much worse. A family that watched as he screamed at her, berated her and never did anything. How she still stood tall, how she swallowed back every tear and tried to talk to him with a steady voice- only for him to become angrier.

How, when he did try to snap at other members, she was always there to stand between them. How she was the one to chase him off or take the yelling despite her family never doing the same for her. How she was the stable rock of the family where no one was for her.

Physical violence was only once, but it was enough for her to know things would never change.

She was like him in a way, same but different.

and She cant bear to see the same thing happen to him.

She wants to help, she knows shes just a little, useless human but please she needs to help. She cant bare leaving another broken family behind without helping. Her life had been stagnate before them, unbearably lonely, and she just wants them to be happy, even if that means without her

 even if it means she has to shove her nose where it doesn't belong

So... please... Please... Talk to Belphie. Please. He said he just wants to tal--

(She had earned Lucifer's respect not too long ago, and - to everyone's shock- the revel of what she came upon does not bring upon Lucifer's fury. Instead, he feels a deep understanding that he’ll never say aloud

Shes still going to get lectured, though. But he is too.) 

It takes time:

Spends what probably amounted to most of her time in Devildom with that little fu--

(No, No. Belphie needs help, she needs to reel it in for now.)

She gets what it means to be lonely. Despite her distrust of the man who caged up in a place where the bad people are, you know, supposed to be caged up and tutored feels like she needs to do something- if only to make sure he doesn't lose his mind from the isolation.  

(Rethinks a lot of her life and how she spent just hiding away from everything. How she would lock her door and never come out unless the sounds of another fight reached her. Thought about how it probably messed her up more then shes willing to admit and refuses to let the same thing happen to him

Oh sweet summer child)

Less trusting of him when its reviled that hes the seventh born, but more willing to help. If only for Beels sake

Brings stuff up to his room, a toy, a fluffy blanket, food that she snagged last minute. He complains hes cold one day and she yanks off her own sweater for him

(It all gets flushed down the toilet when she leaves, he scrubs his skin raw thinking about how his room smells disgustingly like that fucking human now) 

And then, one day, it just... changes: 

A human stands between him and the fucker that locked him up in there, his brothers that never knew he was there. All of them watching him with such pity in their eyes and he didnt want it- he didnt want their p-

The door was unlocked.

He was free.

Just like that.

it made no sense. He learns that they-- She-- spent hours dancing around Diavolo, deals were made. A room where it was just her and The Prince of Hell, promises not even Lucifer knew (And some part of Belphie relished in the fact that it was eating away at the fucker) 

("All those hours shouting at each other paid off” She looks to Satan with a smile. A joke he was not privy to. Lucifer huffed but said nothing. 

How much had changed since he was locked up?) 

A slow, downward spiral 

They're never alone, someone is always with her or with him (Beel sticks to his side like glue. after so long he finally gets to sleep next to his brother again) 

He finds food in the fridge with the words “For Beel <3″ in this awful chicken scratch handwriting. Mammon’s screaming interrupts his naps one day and he wakes up to see her smothering the second born in kisses. Her shouting wakes him up as her and Satan pass, her voice becoming high pitched as they argue about... the number of toes humans are supposed to have???? (she sits down next to him and rips off her shoes in a fit of rage, demanding that Belphie count with her because what the fuck-

Satan sneers at her feet and tells the only actual toes are her two big ones, the rest are just digits.)

There’s traces of her everywhere. Layers of clothing haphazardly thrown about after a day at RAD and then neatly placed away. A mention of her name at the dinner table before shes there. Not even his and beels room is safe from her- he can smell her scent on Beels pillow. Faint, but a awful reminder of the human down the hall. 

He hates it, he wants to throw it all away. He wants to erase her memory from his home, he wants to ripe her apa--

A blanket is draped over him one day, and he cant bring himself to open his eyes to see who did it...

She talks to him, Or more like at him. The longer he stays freed the harder is it to hide his distaste towards Humanity and- especially- to her. He thinks shes dense, because he knows his brothers sense there’s something wrong (Levis tail wraps around her when hes too close, Lucifer stands between them, Amso pulls her by the waist. Close to him, further from belphie) But she doesn't. She pushes closer. She asks him questions.

She never touches him, one small blessing in Hell. 

Beel believes him when he bashfully admits one night that he may start to enjoy his time spent with human. And for a moment he feels guilty about the lie but its all for a greater goal

When its just the three of them, Beel leaves for a moment too long. To get snacks, to grab something from another room, it doesn't matter. This was the moment he waited for. 

She smiles at him, all kind and gentle (And the words that leave her lips are unheard through the blood rushing through his ears) and leans forward

He puts his hands around her neck

She goes limp.

He-

He needed to-

He couldn’t squeeze.

Beel comes back with the biggest grin on his face, arms full of snacks (”Here MC I got your favorite”) He sits on the opposite side of Belphie, leaning into him with enough weight that his own shoulder presses against MCs, mushing her against the wall. 

Despite her smile he can feel her shaking.

[one-boring-person]

Hey!!!how are you?

Can i have some Rambo Headcanons??

Maybe the old rambo moving nextdoor to a young(24), farmer? (They/them pls), and maybe eventually him developing a crush or Wanting to protect them since they’re always so nice and caring towards him?

Thank you!!(these are for my birthday lmao, im a complete and total rambo simp. And i feel old rambo would really enjoy calming down and helping around with someone who loves him)

You have no idea how badly I've been wanting to write these as soon as I read the request! It's so wholesome, so I hope I've done it justice! And happy birthday! I hope you like these 😊(also I'm good, thanks for asking!)

John Rambo (Rambo IV/V) x younger!reader headcannons.

Warnings: mention of PTSD, vague injury detail.

A/n: I'm sorry if this is not as expected, I'm still getting to grips with writing headcannons 😅

Masterlist

The ranch had been in a state of disrepair when John first got there, walls thinning, paint peeling, buildings empty and soulless. He hadn't expected things to be as they were when he left, all those years ago, but the evident lack of care surprised him.

The house had been empty, which he eventually figured out was die to the fact his father had passed a good few years prior, and hadn't left anyone in charge of the ranch.

This meant that everything was as it was when he left, photographs hanging awkwardly on the walls, dusty furniture shoved out of the way.

Naturally, the rest of the ranch was also in pretty poor condition: the stables were practically overrun with weeds and foul smelling hay, one lone horse still nosing weakly at the empty water bucket on the floor. Taking pity on the animal, and feeling a need to help it, John took it out onto the field, which is where he first saw them.

Across from his father's ranch was another, smaller one, where horses and cattle grazed in the fields, a single car parked up beside the main house, which was in a much better condition than his own newfound home. In one of the fields, running around with a young foal, was who he assumed to be a ranchhand.

For a moment or so, he had stood and watched as the figure ran in circles with the youthful horse in tow, admiring their seemingly high spirits - he hadn't felt high-spirited in years.

After he'd helped the old horse from the stables out (cleaning out a stall, feeding it with feed he found in a storeroom), John had gone back to the house, almost forgetting the figure across the field, intending to head to sleep.

A couple of days passed after that, before he saw them again, though this time, they also saw him.

He'd started work on the house, having collected what he needed from a nearby town, and was sat on the roof of the main building as the sun glared down at him. Taking a brief pause from his work, he'd looked up and seen them in the field again, this time astride a larger horse.

They were racing around again, until the rider noticed they were being watched, at which point they slowed to a halt and looked around, quickly spotting John on the roof. From that distance, he couldn't tell what their expression was, but they raised a hand after a moment or so, waving up at him. Hesitantly, he had waved back.

Later that day, when he'd been sat on his father's old rocking chair on the veranda, taking another break, John had noticed someone coming up the road towards him. Standing out of instinct, John soon realised it was someone astride a horse, the rider carefully trotting up the drive, their face becoming clearer the nearer they came.

Still cautious of people, John had acted somewhat guarded as the person rode up to him, a broad smile on their work-weathered youthful face. In their hand, they carried a small box, which they cradled awkwardly on their thighs.

Approaching him, they'd tipped their hat, a battered Stetson, and greeted him, introducing themself as (Y/n), the owner of the ranch next to his. They'd spoken cheerfully, as if unaffected by the hardships of life, which they may well be. That's what John thought anyway, until they openly and happily told him about the passing of their parents, four years ago. The ranch had been left to them, leaving them in charge of the business.

Their first encounter had been somewhat awkward, but it didn't seem to bother (Y/n), and they left after ten minutes or so with a genial smile at him, stating that they'd be happy to help if he ever needed it. They also left behind the box, which John soon discovered was filled to the brim with cookies, a food he hadn't eaten for decades. Trying one, he soon rediscovered a love for them he didn't remember he had.

In the following weeks, John managed to fix up the house, getting it ready to live in properly, with some very brief help from his neighbour. They'd been round earlier in one week, dropping off another box of cookies, and had offered him access to their tools, which they brought round soon after.

After this, John felt it was only right that he invited them round for drinks as thanks, something that still made him somewhat uneasy. Somehow, he did feel reassured when they happily agreed and turned up the following Sunday, the two of them sitting in comfortable quiet on the veranda, sometimes talking, other times staying silent.

This became a regular occurrence.

Every week, (Y/n) would go to John's, or vice-versa, the latter soon learning to trust them and enjoy their company, finding himself in a better mood than he had been in in a long time. Their openness to talk or listen (even if he said very little) comforted him, allowing him to forget the nightmarish things going through his head near-daily.

After three months, (Y/n) had started coming round much more often, many times just appearing in the middle of the day to help out with whatever task needed doing, unafraid of doing dirty work. They later told him it was because they enjoyed his company far too much, and often actively sought it out: they made it clear that his quiet, brooding nature was an attractive quality about him that reassured them.

It didn't take long for them to become close, the two seemingly working at a different wavelength to the rest of the world, one that only existed between their small ranches.

They helped John procure his first horses, lending him one of their own to help build up the numbers. The differences between each ranch soon became blurred, the fence running through the middle of their respective fields eventually disappearing as they merged their ranches together, continuing with business individually with the help of the other's land.

John had long since accepted, within himself, that he would not find someone to spend the rest of his life with, not after Sarah. It was a sad truth, but one he had to live with.

That all changed when he suddenly realised he had fallen for his neighbour, the one person he now trusted and cared for more than anyone in the world.

He'd realised this when their face first started appearing in his nightmares, after a close accident that nearly resulted in catastrophe. (Y/n) had fallen from the roof of the stables, thankfully landing on a stack of stray hay which softened the impact, leaving them in severe amounts of pain for two days. Their face became part of the repertoire in his head, nightmares about their death soon plaguing him even further, as he finally acknowledged the newfound love he felt for them.

Because that's what it was: love.

It couldn't be anything less, he was too damaged to have heedless fancies, and his emotions were far too strong towards them. Since he'd moved in, (Y/n) had always been there, acting as a friend he never had, steadily working their way into his life, bettering it in ways he never would've thought another person could, supporting him through the episodes of flashbacks he was now prone to having. They had showed him love and care he hadnt experienced from anyone else. He valued them highly, prioritising them over himself, and he knew he was heavily attracted to them, but he told himself "no", don't ruin the friendship.

They didn't make it easy to repress the urges. No, they only managed to win him over more and more with their caring, loving attitude, though their youth managed to awaken some form of paternal instinct John never knew he had. He felt the need to protect them at all times, and he would do his best to uphold this, but he knew his feelings were getting too strong.

Somehow, he managed to miss all the loving glances, and little tells (Y/n) inadvertently laid down before him, the rancher have g developed similar feelings for him, though they'd never admit it to John, knowing how human interaction like that could be upsetting for him.

Eventually, it had taken a beautiful evening, with the sun spilling its last bloody rays on the dry landscape as the two sipped beer from bottles on the veranda, for them to finally admit to each other how they felt.

It just happened: one minute, they were leaning in to replace their bottles on the table, the next, their lips are just touching, breaths mingling as they struggle to do rain themselves. (Y/n) had finally leaned in, pressing their lips against his, pulling back almost as quickly as they moved in, a horrified, embarrassed expression on their face.

They'd apologised instantly, terrified that they'd screwed up their relationship, rambling and cursing until John had recovered and kissed them again, cupping their face in his hand as he pulled them closer. It had been too long for him, and the touch was just incredible, goosebumps rising along his spine as he poured all of his love and care into the kiss, pressing as close as possible.

Somehow, (Y/n) had ended up in his lap, head on his chest as he cradled them, relishing in the feeling of having a solid, supple body against his own after so long, and one that means him no harm, too. They knew where they both stood, and it kickstarted a close relationship.

(Y/n) moved in with him after their second foaling season together, where he'd seen their parental instincts kick in, particularly when they'd then worked to socialise the foals by playing with them. The memory would always stick with John: something about the carefree youth in their face as they ran around with the frolicking horses reminded him of the good in his life.

Life was good, everything was going mostly well.

Naturally, there were some days when he'd relapse, having particularly bad episodes that would be harrowing on both him and (Y/n), though they were always there to help him through it. Their soft words of love and worry would easily permeate the cloud of despair, and had break down in their arms, enjoying the sensation of being held.

They often held each other. Even if it was just a quick hug, or an embrace from behind as one pressed up against the other's back, touch became a large factor in their relationship - John relished it after the more callous touch he had grown used to.

Kisses, too, became a large way of showing their affection. Little ones here and there between jobs, deep passionate kisses up against the wall of the house, or sloppy making out on the shared seat on the veranda, it all counted for their love, and they thoroughly enjoyed partaking in them.

(Y/n) was always there, even when Gabrielle and Maria joined them. They were there when Gabrielle died, and they were there to avenge her death, choosing to go out with the man they loved.

Both of them liked to cook, even if John's meals were a little...plain...so they often spent hours in the kitchen with each other, fooling around with whatever they could, John's face alight with more smiles and grins than he thinks it's ever been.

They went riding together, finding solace in each other's company on their many trails through their land, the horses often coming home tired after so long of being out.

Sometimes, John got self-conscious about his age in comparison with their's, thinking he is too old for them. Everytime this happened, (Y/n) would reassure him that they love him for who he is and doesn't care if he's not as young as he used to be, it never would matter.

Marriage was never really a thing they considered. John never had much time for the state anymore, so why get them involved in their relationship?

They considered themselves married, and wore rings to show it, but it was never a legal affair. Nevertheless, the union had always been a happy one, and John could honestly say that he had been wrong about himself: he had found love.