#god I'm so tired physically and emotionally

[elizabethplaid]

Hey, I'm not really religious, but this reminds me of when people will speak to their god(s). Usually, it'd be like "God, why do you put me through these challenges?" But it can also be, "I hope you are entertained by my folly," sort of just knowing that someone's "watching over us".

Somewhat similar, we joke about the personally-assigned FBI agent to watch over our internet activities. But, in a way, that's also like a guardian angel. Just because they watch doesn't mean they take any/much action in response.

I've played The Sims franchise for 20+ years, so I'm kinda chill with the absurdity of someone "watching over us", potentially just for laughs. I was always weirded out as a kid of the thought of god or dead relatives "watching from heaven". Like, even when you're in the shower? That's gross.

To have the modern equivalent be that someone's watching and commenting (still alive, too), it's a frog-boil analogy. I'm sure there's potential for incorporating kay-fabe into the interpretation, too. I'm just like, "Hey, if you wanted me to to be scared of this now, then you shouldn't have told me 30-years-ago this was already happening."

[keferon]

I should be asleep but this is consuming me.

So have this poorly thought out fic drabble idea of mine:

Prowl is in pain, hurt and agony, physically and emotionally. He shouldn't have let Jazz convince him, he should have listened to that tingly uncertain feeling on his spark about this

But dammit was Jazz so...so convincing. It pained him to realise how much he wanted to trust the organic.

What didn't help was that bastard in front of him giving him mock grief. Prowl knew he did not care at all about how he feels, he knew there was some sort of sick enjoyment to all of this.

"Sorry, he couldn't come visit again. He actually had to help out with the newest mech, in fact, this prototype had one of your own parts in it!" Prowl wanted to sob, twisted asshole.

Suddenly, something seemed to have caught the organic's attention. Prowl didn't hear it at first, but once the man in front of him turned around in confusion, he heard it, there was some sort of commotion on the other side of the door.

Suddenly, before any of them could question what was going on, the doors burst out open with an explosion, causing many tools to clatter to the ground as the ground shook.

"GET AWAY FROM MY PARTNER!" Prowl, in a weak yet desperate attempt, turned his head to look at the direction of the voice. He recognised it-

"Jazz?" He spoke weakly. That seemed to have crushed the organic's soul, his face crumbling from his previous rage, before, in a blink of an eye, it turned back to fury. Fury so strong it could kill whoever dared look.

"Jazz?!" The twisted man standing in front of Prowl's face looked offended if not straight out annoyed at the other's presence. "What are you-?" He couldn't even finish his sentence before the other dropped whatever it was he had been holding and jumped on top of him. The two fought for a while, Jazz punching the guy a few times on the face before grabbing him by the neck of his shirt and throwing him to the other side of the room.

Jazz huffed, making sure to keep his eyes on his target for a second to see if that was enough to have knocked him out. It was. And once he was sure the guy wouldn't come back at him, he turned to look at Prowl, who so far, has only made move to watch the whole thing go down.

It took a while for the mech to properly process how Jazz looked, how he looked at him. Guilt, pain, sadness, exasperation even. It almost seemed like he was...crying?

"Prowl!" His partner? Ex-partner? (He wasn't sure anymore), ran to grasp his face, and he let him, to weak to fight back like he wanted to. Then he felt it, small droplets of water fall down his faceplates, 'Oh, so he was crying'. "I'm so sorry, i shouldn't have brought you here- we, we need to get you out-" as he moved, Prowl took notice of how dishevelled the other looked, the sudden smell of iron making him realise that he seemed to be covered in blood, if it was his own or not, Prowl wasn't sure, perhaps it was both. Taking a closer look, he started to notice all the small bruises and scratches on Jazz's face, in fact he took notice of a limp on his left leg too.

The other just seemed to be mumbling to himself as he tried to free Prowl, who so far has not spoken all that much, he felt too weak and tired, and he really had nothing to say other than a simple reply to what Jazz said before but he didn’t process it till now

"You really shouldn't have..."

---

Ok that's all i have rn, bc I'm not much of a writer and idk how to write these characters so they might be a bit OOC sorry ^^;;

But feel free to like add and/or fix anything to this.

Just wanna add the note that maybe, the reason Jazz found out is bc he recognised Prowl's plating on the new mech thing they built ;)

OH MY GOD I CANT EVEN

RAAAAHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS. OH FUCK. THI s. SO GOOD AND PAINFUL IM ASCENDING TO SOME NEW UNDISCOVERED DIMENSIONS

ALSO. oh my fucking god you have galaxy brain for this. imagine the horror Jazz feels when he sees this random new robot his boss wants to test. And it’s plating is so freaking familiar. He runs his hands along the panels. And he recognises them, even repainted. Because he spent so much time sitting on them, repairing them, crawling on them with his magnets. Sleeping on them even. He sees the “scar” from the time he helped Prowl to fix his armor and welded some cracks in it.

And now the fucking plates are here but Prowl isn’t.

[madlittlecriminal]

Miguel o'hara with a breeding kin AND a size kink (or lack of because I'm short as hell). That's it, that's the ask.

Anniversary ⥓ Miguel O'Hara × Female!Reader

im so sorry this is late, love :( with the series & life getting in the way along with writer's block, i took a break. however, im back & since it's October, it's smut month! im doing it again, so i'll only be releasing smut this month

Warnings: smut, unprotected piv, size kink, breeding kink, pull out method, reader and miguel are married, pnp, also for the girlies with the long nails, my writing is inclusive, so sincerely apologize (my nails are usually short since i pick at them), aftercare

If there was one thing Miguel loved about having you under him was the noticeable height difference between the two of you. He loved picking you up to kiss you or having you wrapped around his waist just to have you face to face with him.

But God, he loved when you moaned so loud, as he had your legs over his shoulders while his dick reached deep inside you.

"Te ves tan bella así, mi amor," he muttered as he thrusts into you, his eyes locking onto yours.

You simply moaned in response, your fingers digging into his biceps.

Miguel groaned as he felt you clenched around him. You were reaching your climax again, that he couldn't help but smirk. He was the only man that could do this to you, but that's what made him want to keep you for the rest of his life; you had many firsts with him, he was determined to be the last. Did you care? No.

No man has ever made you feel the way Miguel has emotionally, mentally and physically.

Two years of dating turned into a year of engagement to now, officially being married for a year as it was your first anniversary together as husband and wife.

Long story short, when he said he'd never get tired of you, he meant it because he was still very much obsessed with the way your body responded to him no matter how many times he's touched it. He still feels as though you react differently to things, making him know that he still had a lot more exploring to do.

After all, he was now getting to know your body better than you did.

Not to mention the new positions he had you in.

He flipped you over so you were on your stomach before making sure your legs were at his hips. He took his hand and wrapped it around your neck as he lifted you up; his own version of the Superman position.

Miguel slid back in, causing you to roll your eyes back while his hand rested on your wrist to hold you in place.

Probably the best part about being with a man with superhuman strength; if you had core strength or not, he could carry you with ease.

To say you were stunned by the new position was an understatement. However, when he moved his hips, your stunned expression vanished as your mouth fell open, letting a silent moan escape your throat. Your brows furrowed in pleasure as his cock angled just right, hitting your sweet spot.

Christ, this man, was going to be the death of you.

It didn't help that Miguel felt himself growing closer to his release as he fucked you.

He couldn't help it, with the way you were sucking him in with each thrust and the way your pussy fluttered around him. To him, it felt like paradise.

"I'm gonna fill you up, baby," he muttered against your ear.

You nodded, unable to trust your words as you felt him put you on the bed again, flipping you over.

He held himself as he watched you come undone once more as he pounded into you.

Miguel groaned at the sight of your pleasure, pride hitting him instantly in knowing he'll be the only man who could ever see you like this till death do you part.

He pulled out of you before wrapping his hand around his length. He moved his hand up and down before letting himself decorate your stomach in his cum, a moan escaping his lips as he did so.

Miguel grabbed the pack of wipes from the side table, cleaning you off before his release traveled further down before throwing it out. He grabbed a new wipe and cleaned himself off with a shiver before tossing it too.

He grabbed the blanket and wrapped you both under it before pulling you close, peppering your head with kisses.

The last thing he cared about was that you two were naked, as you both have cuddled naked before. The only thing he cared about was making sure his wife was comfortable as she cuddled in his chest.

"I love you and happy anniversary," he whispered against your head.

"I love you too and happy anniversary," you whispered back with a smile.

[svt-luna]

· ˚ ༘ * GROUP SHIPS ᥫ᭡. ⋆

synopsis: Luna’s most well known ships within the group— aka. ‘the most famous love trinagle in k-pop history.’

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ JEONGHAN & LUNA ─── ‘JEONGNA’

﹟POPULARITY ‣ 101%

﹟THEIR SONGS ‣ Moonlight by Ariana Grande ── “He's so bossy, he makes me dance. Tryna sit in the back of his whip and just cancel my plans. Sweet like candy but he's such a man. He knows just what it does when he's holding me tight and he calls me ‘Moonlight’ too.”

‣ Everytime by Ariana Grande ── “You get high and call on the regular, I get weak and fall like a teenager. Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you? I get drunk, pretend that I'm over it. Self-destruct, show up like an idiot. Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you?”

‣ Reflections by The Neighborhood ── “We were too close to the stars. I never knew somebody like you, somebody. Falling just as hard, I'd rather lose somebody than use somebody. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise. I see my reflection in your eyes.”

﹟NICKNAMES ‣ Jeonghan = “Hannie oppa~”

‣ Luna = “Nana-ya~”

﹟JEONGNA THINGS ‣ Silently gazing at each other from across the room, cuddles galore, simmering tension, unabashedly flirting with each other ❨they don’t stop until one gets flustered or until someone stops them.❩, late night talks, back hugs, cuteness aggression sounds, matching jewelry, lego addicts, interlocking of pinkies, praises, braiding each other’s hair, playing with each other’s fingers when anxious, singing to each other.

﹟FACTS ‣ Luna has had the biggest crush on Jeonghan ever since she laid eyes on him for the first time and she still does because the Jeonghan she met for the first time is still the Jeonghan now, he never changed physically or mentally.

‣ Sometime around May of 2017 during their promotions for their 4th mini album ‘Al1’, Luna drunkenly confessed to Jeonghan when the two of them were having one of their late-night talks. Unfortunately for Luna, she wasn’t drunk enough to forget about what happened and neither was Jeonghan.

‣ After Luna’s constant avoidance for a couple of days, Jeonghan managed to corner her, finding time in their busy schedules to talk. On that very same day, Jeonghan being the second oldest to the group and the vice-leader took it upon himself to put the team first— he politely rejected Luna stating that the well-being of the team goes first and that it would be unprofessional of them to engage in anything.

‣ Did Luna agree? Yes, she did. She did agree that it would be selfish of her to put the group at risk especially when they were achieving their goals left and right. Did Luna handle the rejection well? Yes, she did. She did handle it well, in fact, she even laughed in Jeonghan’s face when he cornered her and brought it up, brushing off the lingering pain that pierced her chest, she told him that “it’s fine.” that “I was drunk and being stupid.” and her personal favorite “It’s a little crush, it’ll go away soon.” Was Luna hurt? Physically? No. Mentally? She was tired. Emotionally? She wanted to claw her heart out and swallow it whole.

‣ “It’s a little crush, it’ll go away soon.” Her own words mock her every time she remembers because in all honesty… her feelings never went away, in fact, she fell harder and she hated herself for it.

‣ Life went on and it was as if nothing had changed. Ever since that rejection, there was no awkwardness, no bad blood or anything. Luna never avoided Jeonghan because according to her logic, ignoring him would be enough to indicate that she was in fact hurt and she was in fact not okay. So, Luna acted like nothing ever happened. She did not treat Jeonghan differently and their dynamic did not change. Luna buried her feelings deep down in her chest, locked it, and threw away the key as far as possible…

‣ Yet, the key landed straight into Jeonghan’s hands. Because a year after that, on a random Friday afternoon on the set of the music video for their new song ‘THANKS’— Jeonghan found himself staring holes into Luna’s face as she spoke to the camera in front of her animatedly. He would be lying if he said he hasn’t stopped thinking of Luna’s confession… because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since then. Jeonghan was initially worried that Luna would look at him differently or treat him differently or maybe ignore him altogether after he rejected her but strangely, Luna never acted differently. He’d also be lying if he said that he didn’t think she looked beautiful today… yesterday… and most definitely tomorrow…

‣ Jeonghan is a smart man. It didn’t take him long to have reality slap him in the face. After staring at Luna talk to the camera for God knows how long like a creep, it struck him like lightning. His clammy hands that were fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, his legs bouncing up and down, the sudden racing of his heart, and the smile that was creeping on his face… Yoon Jeonghan likes Bae Jiyeon. It was either that or he was going into cardiac arrest and he knows for a fact that heart failure symptoms don’t include the desire to ask someone out on a date.

‣ Jeonghan has the key to Luna’s heart yet, her heart remains locked away and hidden for no one to see or touch. And that is where it began— the chase. Jeonghan enjoys a challenge and he would do anything in his power to get what he wants. While Luna… she’s petty… the pettiest. She can see right through Jeonghan the most out of all of them. She knows how hard he’s trying but why not have a little fun with it and have him work for it?

˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ MINGYU & LUNA ─── ‘MINGNA’

﹟POPULARITY ‣ 95%

﹟THEIR SONGS ‣ Friends by Chase Atlantic ── “And what the hell were we? Tell me we weren't just friends, this doesn't make much sense, no. But I'm not hurt, I'm tense, 'Cause I'll be fine without you babe.”

‣ I Wanna be Yours by Arctic Monkeys ── “Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought. Maybe I just wanna be yours, I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours.”

‣ I Can See You by Taylor Swift ── “And we kept everything professional but something's changed, it's somethin' I, I like they keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best that we move fast and keep quiet. You won't believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait 'til you see half the things that haven't happened yet.”

﹟NICKNAMES ‣ Mingyu = “Gyu-gyu~”

‣ Luna = “Lulu-ya~”

﹟MINGNA THINGS ‣ Acts of service, cheek pecks, each other’s photographer, flirting ❨mostly Luna cause she likes seeing Mingyu fold so easily.❩, giggling at the stupidest things, fashion gurus, dedicating playlists for each other, matching hoodies, winking, piggyback rides, cooking together.

﹟FACTS ‣ ‘Great minds think alike’ they say. So naturally, just like Luna, Mingyu just had to have a crush on a member as well… and that member happened to be the ‘great mind’ herself. Mingyu had the biggest crush on Luna upon first meeting her. She was older than him and she was the most beautiful girl he had laid his eyes on… she still is.

‣ Nobody knew of Mingyu’s feelings for the female member but himself and maybe even his sister but that was it. He kept it a secret until 2020.

‣ During their Going Seventeen filming, a new segment was introduced— ‘Insomnia Zero’ where the members take on the challenge of trying to fall asleep, or at least maintain a stable heart rate while lying down, within three minutes for three rounds. While a member tries to sleep, the rest shall try distracting by teasing. In each round, three members with the most stable heart rate can go home while losers proceed to the next round and repeat the challenge. Seems easy enough… until it wasn't.

‣ It was Luna’s turn to sleep and the rest of the members took turns trying to distract her but they mostly had a difficult time doing so— they then continued to complain about how she had thick skin and it was not easy to get a rise out of her. Well, not until Minguy decided to open his mouth.

‣ It took one sentence to send her heart rate spiraling— “Jiyeon-ah, do you know I have a crush on you?” Luna remained composed on the outside; she was still as a rock, her clammy hands folded on top of her stomach, her eyes closed, and her expression not showing a hint of disturbance. However, on the inside, she was going insane; her heart rate was seen by all on the monitor as it went higher and higher. The shrieks and the teasing remarks by the guys were not helping either.

‣ Honestly, Luna never saw Mingyu in a romantic way. Sure she thought he was attractive but that was it. The reason her heart was beating so fast was that after knowing Mingyu for years, she could tell when he was lying or joking… and even without looking at him and simply listening, his tone gave it away… he was telling the truth— Luna knew that and so did the rest of the members.

‣ And once her time was up, Luna opened her eyes and playfully glared at the men to her right— “Ya! Kim Mingyu stop lying! People will get the wrong idea!” she joked, pretending to brush it off for the sake of the show and the fans.

‣ After that, they simply continued with the game, however, when the episode was released, fans noticed a few things: first, was how serious Mingyu looked when confessing. Second, was the shocked look on the other members’ faces as they stared at Mingyu, and lastly, was how Jeonghan was sitting quietly at the end of the line as he stared ❨glared❩ at Mingyu.

‣ Mingyu and Luna didn't talk about it afterward. Everything was back to normal except for the fact that Mingyu wasn't afraid to show his affection towards her anymore… and neither was Jeonghan.

‣ And that ladies and gentlemen is how the ‘the most famous love triangle in K-pop history’ was made. The love triangle dynamic between the three went on for years and hardcore fans of each couple would root for their favorite ship— meticulously gathering evidence and watching their every move to see who would win.

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - selఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3

[authorred]

Power Struggle | Sylus x gn!reader | Love and Deepspace | Part 1

➺ Preface: Having fallen into the hands of the leader of Onychinus himself, it's obvious he enjoys watching you squirm and try to run from him. He has the power to make you yield, to make you stay. But little does he know; you have the same power; you just don't use it nearly as often. How will he react when you grow tired of being his plaything?

➺ PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS MAN CARNALLY, RELIGIOUSLY, BIOLOGICALLY, INNATELY, INHERENTLY, GENEOLOGICALLY, MENTALLY, PHYSICALLY, EMOTIONALLY, I NEED HIM TO DESTROY ME I NEED HIM TO RUIN MY LIFE, MY HOUSE, MY JOB, MY POSSESSIONS, MY PUS--

I'm so sorry Zayne I love you pookie pls forgive me but FUCK!

➺ Part 2 (coming soon)

Warning(s): None

Your eye twitches when you see the familiar red gleam of Mephisto’s eyes. No matter where you go in the N109 Zone, that crow is always following you. Why Sylus feels the need to keep an eye on you 24/7, you have no idea. It’s not like you’re doing anything. Perhaps it’s a security thing. To make him feel better. Either way, you’re hyperaware of the influence he has on the entire zone. Just his name alone is enough to spark conversations—good or bad.

You walk up to Mephisto and stare at him. “Are you going to follow me everywhere I go as long as it’s in the N109 Zone?” You ask.

Mephisto caws and tilts his head, his beak clacking together. Almost as if he’s saying ‘yes’. You give him a flat look before sighing. “Guess you can’t help it. You’re stuck with Sylus too, huh?”

~ When you enter Sylus’s base (or whatever it is, you never bothered to ask) Mephisto flies through the open door and past you. You assume he’s going to find his owner. You sigh and shut the door behind you, walking deeper into the foyer. It was typical of Sylus to be rather secluded—you don’t ever recall a time where he greeted you. Not that you expect it, per se.

With Sylus doing God knows what, and you not having to do anything, you decide to entertain yourself. Trotting off, you head to Sylus’ boxing ring. The last time you went there, your ‘lesson’ with Sylus happened, and though informative (you supposed) it wasn’t anything you didn’t know. Sometimes you graced him with the ability to feed his superiority complex. You walk over to a locker and open it, grabbing some red hand wraps. Having done this so many times before, you quickly wrap the cloth around and between your knuckles and fingers. When they're secure and you get everything else ready, you step into the ring and start lightly jogging in place to get your blood up. You hop over to the punching bag and wait a moment before beginning to lay out into it.

Your punches connect cleanly, the impacts crisp and strong. The punching bag swings from where it's hung from the ceiling via chain. You can feel the burn in your muscles begin to grow after several minutes of punching, and you take intermittent breaks to work out until failure. About twenty minutes into your workout, you pause your actions when you sense an intense, heavy gaze on you.

"Well?" You call out, sliding your gaze to him. "Are you impressed?" Your tone is slightly sardonic. It's not like Sylus to just give compliments with no backhanded comment to boot.

"You applied what I taught you," he replies in his usual baritone, melodious voice. "It seems you're not the little kitty I think of you as."

You roll your eyes and take a few steps away from the punching back, turning your body to face him. Sylus is leaning on the doorway of the gym, his arms crossed. He's wearing his usual black and red shirt with black pants, and his red-tipped dress shoes. As per, he looks like a posh asshole. "Are you interested in sparring this 'little kitty', or are you busy committing crimes?"

You can see something close to amusement flash across his face at the comment. "You're worn out," he replies. "You're soaked in sweat, and your breathing is heavy. It would be unfair to spar you in this condition."

"You scared?"

A beat of silence passes.

And then, Sylus lets out a sigh--and if you listen closely, it almost sounds amused. "It seems the more you're worn out, the cockier you become." He steps closer to the ring, hands reaching for some wraps. "Very well."

You watch as he wraps his hands and steps into the ring with you. "Try to go easy on me, sweetie," he says, gazing at you.

"Yeah, 'cause you'd definitely return the favor," you mutter to yourself, getting in a relaxed stance, shifting your weight back and forth between your feet. Sylus remains in a steady stand, weight distributed evenly between his feet.

Sylus' jab is quick, and you barely manage to dodge it. Ah, shit, I forgot how good at boxing he was. Goddammit. For the first several seconds, you remain on the defense to his swift and agile hooks and jabs.

"You will never win on the defense alone," his rough, baritone voice rings out. "I thought I taught you this. Seize your opportunities!"

He sends a nasty left hook, clipping your jaw a little. If you didn't snake out of the way, that would've surely sent you to the floor. "It seems you've gotten tired, Kitten," he says, and you're not sure if he says that as a consolation or a way of mocking you.

You let out a small huff. "Just shut up and keep going."

A soft scoff leaves his lips, "As you wish, Sweetie."

You two continue to box for a few minutes, with you on the defense and him on the offense most of the time. In between each jab and hook, he makes side comments--and you're still not sure if he's mocking you, or if he's attempting to spite you into completely dominating him. Either way, he's irking you.

After a particularly hard hook to your jaw, you stumble back onto your knees, holding yourself up with your hands. You let out a soft grunt and shake your head, attempting to pull yourself together from the small impact your brain just suffered from.

"I think you've had enough," Sylus says, relaxing from his stance. "It's clear your stamina is at its limit. I would rather you not suffer lasting effects due to your stubbornness." He walks up to you and offers a hand.

Seize your opportunities. With a low grunt, you take his hand and pull yourself up a smidge before quickly pulling his unassuming form forward. With deft movements and lower-body strength you have no right of possessing, you roll onto your back and pull him with you. You raise your legs, wrapping them around his neck in a triangle choke.

Sylus grunts and grips your thigh in an attempt to pry your legs from around him, but you squeeze tightly, keeping his arm hugged against your torso. It doesn't take long for his face to turn a concerning red, and he struggles to get onto his feet for a hint of respite. His body weight presses into you the longer you hold him there, his eyes growing distant and hazy. You don't wait out the time it would take for him to pass out. You quickly release him from your legs and push him back before hopping back up to your feet.

He stays on the ground for a few seconds, taking in the needed oxygen. His complexion slowly goes back to normal as his blood flow is restored. He's silent, and for a moment you believe he's going to retaliate, but instead, a low chuckle leaves his lips. "A submission hold," he says, more to himself than anything. "It seems this kitten has sharper claws than I thought."

You squint at him. No way he was just going to take it and let it slide without retaliation. Nah, this was Sylus. He'll get his get back. You slowly stand and back up, knowing his reach was longer than yours, and his legs are even longer. If he wanted to, he could easily sweep you off your feet with a single flurry of his leg.

Slowly, Sylus stands up, brushing dust off of his shoulders and arms. "Impressive. It seems your knowledge of combat extends further than I originally thought," he praises. For some reason, you feel wary whenever he compliments you--like he's planning something.

"Yeah," you reply slowly, "I'm a 'kitten' around you because I choose to be." You watch as he turns to look at you, his ruby red eyes set ablaze with. . . arousal?

"So, it seems," he replies lowly. "Things will be getting much more interesting, Sweetie."

[pearlswritings]

Could I request some Luka x reader fluff where Luka was having an asthma attack and reader does her best to comfort him and calm him down (you can add them cuddling, kissing, pecking idk jajajsj and all that honeyed shi oh my god when did I get so so lovey dovey and sweet uugh :< I'm gonna jump)

Sick! Luka x Fem! Reader (asthma attack)

(I don’t know if these are things I should put tw for, but I don’t wanna make anyone uncomfortable! So tw for: illness, vomit, and asthma)

“𝕀’𝕞 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨, 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕀 𝕤𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕣. 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕀 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕗𝕝𝕪 𝕦𝕤 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖.”

•Luka is your beloved boyfriend. You’ve been with him for a while now, and thus you know about his many illnesses.

•He has it all, congenital heart disease, chronic migraines, and severe asthma. You really chose the sickly Victorian boy to be your lover, huh?

•Despite all his illnesses, you adore Luka. Except for when he gets sick, all of his issues make it ten times worse. A simple common cold can leave him bed bound for a week. That can be a bit frustrating for you.

•He’s had a couple asthma flare ups in the past, but not a full blown attack in a while. The last time was when he was rehearsing for a really big show. There was a lot of choreography and singing involved. It didn’t help that the dance instructor was very mean. She didn’t care that he had asthma, and she overworked him till he had an asthma attack.

•You thought that if he didn’t exert himself like that he wouldn’t have another attack, right? You were wrong.

•This time it was a stress and illness induced attack. He had another big event, and was really practicing hard for that. On top of that, he had a bad cold.

•He’s been sick for a few days now, every time you think he’s getting better there’s another awful flare up around the corner. But never an attack..

•Until now, he’s been sleeping relatively soundly. Then he woke up feeling absolutely awful and feverish. He asked you for some water and a light snack, of course you agreed.

•He ended up eating a bit too fast, causing him to choke. What happens when you choke? Coughing. Lots of it.

•He felt like he couldn’t stop, and each cough and heave was excruciatingly painful.  The coughing fit escalated into a full blown asthma attack. His body was trying to reject the foreign object, but it just wouldn’t work.

•Eventually the coughs turned to painful heaves, and he ended up vomiting on the bed. At least he wasn’t choking anymore..? 

•Yes, but he was still dealing with the asthma attack. Through the coughing and wheezing he was able to faintly croak out: “I-Inhaler…please..”

•You of course obliged, quickly administering the medicine. After a few moments he was able to calm down, but he felt emotionally drained and exhausted.

•There was vomit staining the bed, so you cleaned him and the sheets up and tucked him back in.

•You could tell he felt embarrassed and ashamed. He was rather quiet and didn’t make eye contact with you while you cleaned him up. That’s how you could tell.

•After you reassure him, he feels better emotionally. But he’s still in physical pain. His stomach is hurting from vomiting so forcefully, and his throat is dry and sore. But most of all, he needs you.

•He needs some comfort reassurance right now. He needs to know that you still love him, and you’re not mad at him for throwing up on the bed.

•You notice his silent plea for comfort, and crawl next to him in bed. You hold him to your chest, feeling the feverish heat from his body against yours. You don’t really mind though, it’s like holding an adorable human heater. 

•His already fever-flushed face becomes an even darker shade of pink as you do this. He doesn’t pull away though, if anything he wants more. 

•It’s not much longer later that he falls asleep. The fever, asthma attack and vomiting really tired him out, huh?

•As he sleeps cuddled against you, can hear his breathing. It’s still slightly shallow, and you can hear a bit of a wheeze too. You’re just happy he’s comfy enough to sleep.

•He sleeps relatively peacefully the rest of the night. He stays sleeping for almost the whole time, except for when you wake him for meds. 

•You can even see him smiling in his sleep, and he mumbles something subconsciously: “I love you..”

•”Me too, Luka.”

(𝘈/𝘕: 𝘈𝘏𝘏𝘏 𝘐 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌 𝘚𝘐𝘊𝘒𝘍𝘐𝘊𝘚!! 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘈𝘳𝘪𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵!)

[elizabeth-of-avonlea]

he failed

Pairing: Gilbert Blythe x fem!reader

Warning: sfw, fluff, angst, arranged marriage, self-harming

Summery: Gilbert Blythe meets a girl at the ship. A girl he will never meet again.

English isn't my first language, so don't be too harsh if you see grammar mistakes

Gilbert couldn't sleep tonight. Now that Bash was asleep, there was no conversation or any kind of distraction from his own thoughts. It was dark outside, with nothing to light the ocean but the moon above him. As he trailed down the deck, he was mesmerised by how beautifully it shined at the water.

His head was locked at the ocean as he noticed something in the corner of his eyes. Or, better said someone, leaning against the railing with their head down. Her hair floated in the air with each blew of the chilling wind, and her dress was white with puffy sleeves so loose that they hung down her arms. She was as pretty as a painting, to say at last.

She looked elegant and graceful, making it so much harder Gilbert to snap out of the trance he found himself in. But he did, clearing his throat, hoping to catch the ladies' attention, but to his confusion, she didn't move an inch. He cleared his throat again. No signs of notice.

Bash would have laughed at Gilbert for doing all this nonsense just to catch her attention, instead of talking to her. And at some point, Gilbert would have laughed at himself, too. He took a quick breath before taking a step forward.

"Excuse me? Miss?" He whispered. Only now the girl flinched, her face turning towards Gilbert. Her eyes were slightly widened, with signs of crying not so long ago.

"Oh. Yes? Wha– What is it?" She proceeded to wipe away the small trains of tears on her cheeks, then straightened her back and pushed her shoulders behind. "Are you one of my guards? I'm fine, I'm already heading back. " Her eyes were filled almost unnoticeable panic, or with urgency to leave, as she believed, her guard. Gilbert smiled.

"No, I'm not your guard" He corrected her, which to he then got a slight gasp from her.

"I'm so sorry! It's just because.." She hinted at his face, mudded with coal stains. "Your face.."

"Oh, yeah, I work here." Gilbert tried to wipe away the stains, suddenly feeling self-conscious in front of such a beautiful young lady as her. The girl reached into her sleeve, handing him then a napkin. "Thank you"

The girl smiled for a second, but the smile faded as she turned back to the ocean, leaning once again against the railing. Gilbert's eyes didn't leave her form even while he was busy wiping off the mess on his face. She was a girl you liked to look at. Gilbert then also leaned against the railing, kinda hesitant. After all, she was crying not so long ago.

"Ehm, I'm Gilbert Blythe." He cleared his throat. She looked at him with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Y/N Y/S" She looked back at the ocean. It was quiet between them for a while, with Gilbert not knowing how to proceed and with Y/N not even thinking of talking right now. The splashes of water against the ship now seemed to be louder than ever, louder than Gilbert could think.

His gaze led back to her, again and again, just to see her zoomed out, thinking of God knows what. Gilbert tried to concentrate on the napkin she gave him. It was stained with black now.

"Sorry, I stained your napkin," He whispered, making Y/N slowly look at the napkin and smile. She looked so tired and not necessarily physically but emotionally.

"It's fine. I know where I was going when I gave you it." She tittered, making Gilbert do the same. He put the napkin into his front pocket. Surely he would need this napkin tomorrow or next weeks, even if it won't clean as much as did before.

Gilbert licked his lips in hesitation, his eyes darting towards her and then back to the water beneath. "If you don't mind me asking, what's troubling you?" He asked, making her eyes widen slightly and look at him in surprise. Her eyes searched for a trap, but all she saw were his handsome black eyes looking back at her. She looked away.

"I'm, well.." She took a breath. "I'm moving to California. It's a new city, found 40 years ago." YN trailed off, not knowing how to continue. She had no experience in sharing her issues with anyone, especially a stranger. But as she looked at Gilbert, he was still looking at her, actually listened. She stared at him, like looking at a wonder, forgetting to talk.

"You don't want that, right?" He asked, and she nodded, nibbing slightly at her lower lip as she once again didn't manage to hold eye contact. It was cute, thought Gilbert. "You don't want to leave your hometown?"

"No, no.." She whispered, fudging with her fingers. She took a shaky breath. "I– I'm getting married.. to an old man. " Her gaze was locked at the water, feeling ashamed for the arranged marriage, like it was her fault. Gilbert mumbled a quiet oh, then pressed his lips into thin line. He shouldn't have asked or reacted out loud, or maybe he did the right thing. He didn't know what to do in this situation.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked.. or reacted like that. " He shifted closer to her, but so that there was some distance. He wanted to catch her eyes, the ones that were so stubbornly secured on the ocean.

"Don't apologise. You couldn't have known." She gently tossed her hair back, not knowing what to do with herself. "And I liked your reaction," She tittered, her eyes meeting his "You're the first one to react this way.. other's don't react at all, like it's normal to marry someone off to an old man. " Her voice got quieter and quieter.

"It's not. You should marry out of love and only love." Gilbert resured. This time, she chuckled, still quiet, but the loudest he had heard her laugh. He hid his face in his hand, only leaving eyes not covered. It wasn't like she could have seen the tint of pink on his face. It was too dark for that.

"I like you, you're funny" She smiled, tilting her head to see his face better. Gilbert cleared his throat, his eyes running around from her face to anywhere else but her.

"I wasn't joking, but I appreciate the compliment." He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Her smile faded slightly, she then turned back to the water.

"I won't marry out of love," She whispered, "maybe in the next life." Gilbert raised one of his eyebrows at her words

"You believe in that?" He asked.

"Yes, or, well, I just hope it is true." She trailed off. "It can't be that my only life is.. like this. " She took shaky breath. Gilbert noticed a tear in her eye, which she immediately wiped away. She took a big breath, straightening her back. She turned towards Gilbert completely.

"Mr. Blythe—"

"Call me Gilbert, please" He interrupted, making her titter again.

"Gilbert," She started. "If you marry, marry for love. Marry someone you will never regret sharing your life with." She pleaded, even though she tried to steady her voice. After a moment of silence between them, she took a breath, turned around, and started to walk off. Gilbert reached out, stopping her by holding her hand.

"Wait, I—" He didn't know what he wanted to say. He didn't know why he stopped her. Their eyes met again. She was waiting, waiting for him to say something that would maybe make her life better. Something. Anything.

But Gilbert didn't have anything to say. He couldn't do anything, and she knew it better than anyone else. She slipped her hand away from Gilbert's hold. With last look, she turned away, leaving Gilbert alone in the dark with the moon.

It's been a week. Gilbert laid in his so-called bed, looking up at the roof, with his eyebrows furrowed. He couldn't stop thinking of her.

"Hey boy, look at this." Bash tossed a magazine at Gilbert, without his usual smile.

"Did you steal it?" Gilber asked.

"Read." Bash commanded, and Gilbert started to do so. His eyes flew over the magazine as they caught a familiar name. Y/N Y/S. He shifted, more concentrated.

'Y/N Y/S — a young girl — took her life right after her arranged marriage'

Gilbert's breath stuck in his throat, his face furrowing in confusion and shock, and also, regret. He was there, it was clear she wasn't in the best state, he could have done something, anything, to make her feel better. But he didn't. He failed.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[the-barefoot-hatter]

Hi, i just learned about the niblings Pyramid Steve AU and i love it but now i have so many questions. that i am going to dump here now lol. Is Bill jealous that Pyramid Steve can access both the mindscape and the physical world? I like to imagine that he was born like Athena from Greek Mythology since he was created in a dream. Or maybe does it not work that way, it's like Looney Tunes rules where anything can happen just as long as it's funny lol? Is Pyramid Steve existing in the physical world more of a motivator for Bill to demand that Ford finish the portal asap? If Ford learns about the original purpose of the portal, will he think that Bill made Pyramid Steve as a manipulation tactic? Would he be emotionally devastated, thinking poor Pyramid Steve was given life because he was merely a pawn in his sick father's mind games, and try to protect Pyramid Steve from Bill, not accepting Bill's insistence that he is just as confused as Ford? Or would he think that Pyramid Steve is "in on it" with Bill? If something goes down like what happens in canon, who is taking Pyramid Steve in the divorce? 😂

eeeee, a fan! I'm glad you like it! my au tag is the: non euclidean geometry au search it up on my tumblr for a bunch more silly little comics <3 the nibling comic is where I started actually really thinking and adding continuity, so some of this is wobbly/subject to change:

Is Bill jealous that Pyramid Steve can access both the mindscape and the physical world?

A little bit! Also very proud, because LOOK how ADVANCED his baby is!!! Obviously the BEST BABY! (Oh, your's can sit up on it's own? what cute little accomplishment there, you must be so proud)

I like to imagine that he was born like Athena from Greek Mythology since he was created in a dream. Or maybe does it not work that way, it's like Looney Tunes rules where anything can happen just as long as it's funny lol?

A bit of both! They aren't exactly sure how Pyramid Steve was made, since he popped up right after karaoke night and memories are... hazy lol

Is Pyramid Steve existing in the physical world more of a motivator for Bill to demand that Ford finish the portal asap?

Yes, absolutely! You can't separate family!

(also having a baby around is making Bill much more tired/slip up about what's really going on/change his plans for the benefit of his family, so the result of opening portal is bit less end-of-the-worldy. probably)

If Ford learns about the original purpose of the portal, will he think that Bill made Pyramid Steve as a manipulation tactic? Would he be emotionally devastated, thinking poor Pyramid Steve was given life because he was merely a pawn in his sick father's mind games, and try to protect Pyramid Steve from Bill, not accepting Bill's insistence that he is just as confused as Ford? Or would he think that Pyramid Steve is "in on it" with Bill?

lol, well you see, this Ford is slowly coming to realize that his Bill is not actually a Muse of Knowledge but is in fact just some guy. A smart but so, SO stupid guy with a lot of issues. It's more like the horror of finding out the guy you are seriously dating has been faking his entire resume, but has been real with you, emotionally. Just not about his job or his background or his initial intentions and oh god, he's dating a stan-type conman. And the conman fell for his mark.... Is his life some sick hallmark movie?? (They love each other and will work it out)

but IF this AU went the darker paranoia/betrayal route like in canon, Ford wouldn't think Pyramid Steve's in on it (because Ford is paranoid but he can recognize that PS is just an innocent baby). Ford would be utterly gutted at being 'baby-trapped' and pretty resistant to listening to Bill about the situation at all, because Ford is a pretty unforgiving guy prone to dramatic grudges, especially once he learns you lied to him.

If something goes down like what happens in canon, who is taking Pyramid Steve in the divorce? 😂

;-; oh, that be a tough one!

Bill is much more powerful, but Ford is scrappy and determined!

IF this AU went the paranoia/betrayal route like in canon, and Bill has Pyramid Steve, Ford will stop at nothing to get him back/kill Bill. If Ford has Pyramid Steve, Bill would be a thousand times more desperate to escape the Nightmare Realm and get them BOTH back/on Bill's side.

(ps, i welcome anyone else playing with these setups, just link me so i can enjoy them too <3)

[heyimkana]

I'm so happy you're back, Kana 🥺 I really missed you. I wanted to ask: what would Jinwoo do if he actually ended up hurting his lover (emotionally or physically)? Perfect as he is, I feel like Jinwoo can be really curt sometimes (especially in the manhwa). Maybe he's had a shit day and loses his temper, causing him to snap at her. The look of hurt on her pretty face has him regretting his words immediately. She's cold to him for the next few days and recoils from his touch.

I'm sorry this got so long; I just need Jinwoo desperate and begging for our forgiveness. Just because he's the shadow monarch, it doesn't mean he can treat his lover like that, bad day or not.

COURTNEYYYY HIIII I'm so glad I'm here again too 🥺 and I've missed you a lot babyyyy 😭🫶

I feel like jinwoo would NEVER physically hurt you. Like that man would actually rather chop off his own hands than lay a finger on you without your consent BUT I agree with you that he could wound your feelings (most likely without knowing or intending to do so).

He wouldn't like say mean things to you or anything, but he'd act cold and maybe he'd say something like "Do whatever you want, I don't care" and hearing those words coming from him would already feel like a slap because jinwoo always cared. He didn't mean to say things like that obviously. maybe like you said, he just had a shit day and he was so mentally and physically tired.

He wouldn't necessarily beg for your forgiveness, but he'd definitely apologize like a man. And he wouldn't waste time either. He wouldn't feel too prideful to say sorry. He knows what he did wrong, and he couldn't erase the pained look on your face when his words cut through you so he'd make sure he'd make it up to you.

He's not very good with words so he'd just straight up "I'm sorry I said that to you before. I wasn't thinking clearly. You did nothing wrong, and you didn't deserve to be treated like that. I'll make sure to be better next time. I promise." It usually worked perfectly because you could see the sincerity in his eyes but if for some reason you still gave him the cold shoulder after that, Jinwoo would use the love languages he knows the best: physical touch and gifts.

You were washing the dishes when he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. The hug was slow, careful—like he was afraid you'd shove him away. You didn’t say a word or even glance his way, so he rested his chin lightly on your shoulder, his voice low and apologetic. “You still mad at me?”

“No,” you said flatly. But you absolutely were. And he could tell.

Jinwoo didn’t sigh, even though he wanted to—he knew better. That would only piss you off more. Instead, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. Just one. Quiet and remorseful. One that said: I’m sorry I was a jerk.

Then his chin returned to your shoulder. “What do I need to do to make you feel better?”

“I’m not mad, Jin.”

“Can I take you dancing? Or maybe we can go to that bakery you like. I heard they’re making rosemary fougasse again. With sea salt. Your favorite.”

“They don’t. They only make those during Christmas.”

“Nope,” he murmured. “Pretty sure they were on display this morning.”

You sighed. You were in no mood to argue—especially not about bread. “Jin—”

But before you could say more, the shadows shifted around his feet, and one of his soldiers materialized, holding a box. He took it and held it out to you, the warm, buttery scent of rosemary hitting you first.

“See?” he said, smiling sweetly. “Fresh from the oven.”

Your eyes widened as you took the box. “How… how did you get these?”

“Let’s just say... nothing is off limits for a national-level hunter.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you threaten them to bake this?”

“No.” A pause. Then, quieter, “Beru did.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. “God, I can never win against you.”

He smiled softly, one hand rising to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed along your cheekbone, and he looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

“Am I forgiven now?”

“No.”

But you pulled him down for a kiss anyway—slow and tender. One that said I love you for a thousand lifetimes.

And he kissed you back like he always had. Like he always would.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

From the clothing prompts can i ask is it possible to have football jersey with either Peter Parker or Eric van der Woodsen and male reader? Thanks

let me tell you I was absolutely ecstatic to see someone request something for eric so he's who I chose to do the fic with! this was originally supposed to be something short but then it spiraled into a big long thing so I hope that's okay <3

the original prompt list can be found here btw

Meet the Family (Eric van der Woodsen x male reader)

Warnings: mild swearing, implied sex/some suggestiveness, very mild angst I think??, fluff other than that <3

When Eric woke up that morning, he was in a football jersey. Your football jersey, to be exact, one that you'd left over at his house by accident the day before.

His mom had been on a trip somewhere, and his sister was out with her friends, which meant you two got some much needed alone time. One thing had led to another, and before he even realized it you were both tangled up in the sheets of his bed. You must've put on one of his shirts by accident before you left, and he'd grabbed your jersey thinking it was his in the dim lit room.

He knew why you were gone, of course. It was an unspoken rule for you to not be there when his family was so they wouldn't interrogate you on your "intentions" with him.

A sigh escaped from him as he laid back in his bed, bringing the fabric of the jersey up to his face and inhaling it deeply. It smelled just like you. God, he missed you already.

Honestly, he probably should've known better than to go down to breakfast while still in your clothes, but for one he was starving after the eventful night he'd had before and for another he didn't actually expect his family to already be there. Certainly not both of them at the same time. Great.

Part of him hoped he'd be able to sneak in, grab something small and scurry back up the stairs before being spotted, but unfortunately he had no such luck.

"Eric, darling. Come join us for breakfast," his mother's voice called out from the dining room, prompting him to let out a heavy sigh. He should've known it would be one of those days where she'd tried to cram all her years of absent parenting into one morning where she pretended like she actually gave a damn.

"I'm still in my pajamas," he called back hesitantly, hoping it would be a good enough excuse for him to at least change before having to sit down face-to-face with her.

"Nonsense, your sister's still in her pajamas, too. You'll be fine."

Damn it. Today really just wasn't his morning, it would seem.

He slowly trudged into the dining room and sat down at the table, hoping if he sat slumped over enough he could hide the jersey he had on. That didn't work, obviously. Lily might not have been the most present parent, physically or emotionally, but she knew when one of her kids was hiding something, and she certainly knew what a cheap piece of fabric sewn into a makeshift shirt looked like.

Her eyes narrowed as she gazed down at the jersey he had on, studying it closely. "What's that you're wearing?" She questioned, his sister looking up from her own breakfast at the matriarch's question.

"It's just something I borrowed from a friend," he responded a little defensively. Serena let out a snort of muffled laughter in response, clearly not believing him in the slightest. He shot her a dirty look, knowing if she didn't believe it, Lily wouldn't, either.

"Oh, really? And what's your friend's name? Have we met them before?" She tried to make the questions seem casual, but he knew better. It was an old and tired tactic she used when she wanted to know about her kids' social life without having to put in the actual work to be deserving of knowing the answer.

"Um, I'm not really sure," he mumbled in response, still sitting slumped over while buttering a piece of toast, trying to avoid eye contact with either of them.

"Eric, don't slouch. And take your elbows off the table," Lily chastised, clearly not intent on trying too hard to be seem like the caring mother she so often liked to portray to outsiders who weren't aware of the inner family dynamic.

He scoffed, clearly not appreciating her scolding so early in the morning. "You know what, I'm not that hungry anyway," he declared while pushing his chair back, stalking out of the dining room without giving them so much as a second glance.

His mother knew she messed up just from that response. "Eric, wait-" she tried to call out after him, but he was already gone, rushing back up the stairs and flopping down onto his bed.

He felt like crying, he really did. It was stupid, honestly. He didn't know why their opinion mattered to him so much. It's not like Lily or Serena were that present in his life, anyway. Still, they were his family, and despite his better judgement he didn't want them to hate you right away, which is probably the real reason behind him hiding you.

Just as he was about to break down into tears, his phone rang, and he instantly knew it was you from the ringtone that played. "Hello?" He mumbled, hoping his voice sounded like he'd just woken up rather than he was about to cry.

"Good morning, baby," your chipper voice came from the other end, something that caused him to smile. "I know it's still a little early, but I was wondering if you wanted to meet up for coffee."

He let out a quiet sigh of relief at the question. "Coffee sounds great right about now." Anything to get him out of that house. "Do you want me to bring your jersey when we meet up?"

"That's right, I did leave it with you, didn't I?" You commented, thinking out loud as per usual. It was such an endearing trait in his eyes. "Nah, it's fine, I can just pick it up some other time. I'm sure it looks much better on you than it does on me, anyway."

His cheeks heated up at your comment, not missing the slightly suggestive tone in your voice. He let out a breathless sort of chuckle before replying. "Okay, well, I've got to go get changed so we can meet. I'll see you in about twenty minutes at our usual spot?"

"Of course. Love you, babe. See you then."

It was hard for him to ignore the way his heart fluttered about in his chest like a caged bird trying desperately to break free from the walls that were his ribs. You always seemed to have that affect on him. "I love you, too. Bye."

Laying back on the bed, he dropped his phone on his chest after hanging up and stared up at the ceiling, unable to push away the giddy feeling he had. Leave it to you to somehow make an awful morning immediately better.

He headed back downstairs after he was finished changing, a pep in his step as he went. Lily was already gone, which made him think he was in the clear until his sister stopped him.

"Hey, wait up a second," she called out as she met up with him in the front hallway. "Why are you going so early in the morning? And dressed so nice, too," she added with a sly smirk that suggested she already had a bit of an idea.

"I'm, uh- I'm meeting a friend," he lied through his teeth, though Serena wasn't buying it for a second.

"Oh, really? And does this happen to be the same 'friend' from earlier that you borrowed the jersey from?" She lightly teased, giving him a playful shove.

An awkward chuckle escaped from him at her words, one that was obviously forced. "Okay, I've gotta go now. Don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone," he said quickly in an attempt to change the subject, about to leave when she reached her hand out to stop him, resting it on his shoulder.

"Wait, I just wanted to say that-" She paused, trying to find the right words. She searched for a moment or so before finally settling on, "I want you to be happy, you know that, right?"

"I know," he replied, not really sure where she was going with this as she took extra time to properly formulate her thoughts into words.

"Look, I don't know who this guy is that you're seeing, but if he makes you happy then I'm sure he's great. You should bring him around sometime." She gave his shoulder a squeeze before adding, "Maybe we can meet your new boyfriend at the same time we meet mom's."

He let out a scoff at her suggestion. "Yeah, I'm not subjecting him to that. But..." He sighed, seeming to know what she was getting at. She wanted to be in his life more, and this was her way of trying to connect. At least she wasn't overly judgmental like Lily could be. "If you really want to meet him, I'll introduce you sometime, okay?"

She smiled brightly at that, clearly getting the response she was hoping for. "Great! I'd love to meet him." She dropped her hand from his shoulder and watched as he started to leave again. "Have fun, and be safe," she called after him as he left.

"I will," he said while leaving out the front door, still filled with the utmost of glee at getting to see you. It sounded so stupid when you'd been over just the night before, but when you were gone he missed you like no other. Sure, he had Lily and Serena as his family, but with you was where he really felt at home.

He couldn't stop from grinning the moment he spotted you at your usual meeting place, two coffees in hand. "Hey, stranger," you greeted in a friendly manner while holding out his coffee. "I got you your favorite."

"You're the best," he replied before leaning in to give you an appreciative kiss. It seemed as though your lips got sweeter every time he tasted them.

"Yeah, I know," you joked in response, your eyes twinkling with that familiar hint of mischief he always loved. He took the coffee from you, blowing on it gently before taking a small sip. It was touching how you always remembered his order.

"So, my sister wants to meet you," he said after a moment or so after you started walking together. His voice was a little tentative when he spoke, as if it was a subject he was hesitant to bring up.

"Oh, yeah?" Your hand reached for his as you drank your coffee, making his heart flutter with affection. The action was so natural when you did it, as if you'd been together forever.

"Yeah. I think she feels guilty for all the times she's been absent in my life, which is why she's trying to make up for it now." Part of him had regretted leaving his gloves at home when he felt how cold it was, but that regret disappeared instantly when he felt your warm hand envelope his.

"Do you want me to meet her?" was your next question, which didn't surprise him very much as you were always pretty mindful of his boundaries and what he felt comfortable with.

"Only if you feel okay with it. I don't want you to think that it's, like, required in order to be able to date me, because it's not," he stated before taking a sip of his own coffee.

"Well, from what I've heard from the tabloids, she's quite the party girl," you began before continuing with, "but from what I've heard from you, she's just your big sister who's been through some pretty hard times." You were always like that, so open-minded and unjudgmental. It was a refreshing change from the usual Upper East Side crowd. "So if you're okay with me meeting her, then I'd love to do it."

"Really?" He couldn't help the way his jaw dropped a little. Most of the time whenever he had a new boyfriend, he tried his best to keep his love life separate from his family to avoid unnecessary drama, and they agreed to it because of that. But you were different, always finding new ways to surprise him, like offering to meet his sister with no problem.

You let out a good natured laugh at his response. "Oh, wow, you should really see the look on your face when I said that, you look ridiculous," you teased before continuing. "But yes, really. I know how important your sister is to you, and I want to make a good first impression. I can't do that if I spend all of my time trying to hide from her because I'm worried about what she'll think when she finally meets me."

He watched you with a gaze that was full of pure awe. Every time you spoke, it seemed as though he was falling more and more in love with you. "I just can't get over how amazing you are, did you know that?"

"Aw, baby, you're much more amazing than I am." You squeezed his hand and gave his lips a loving kiss to help emphasize your point. "Now, am I going to have to dress up and wear a suit to meet her, or do you think what I have on now is okay?"

It was his turn to laugh, his fingers lacing through yours as he held your hand a little bit tighter. "I think whatever you choose to wear will look great on you," he answered honestly.

"That's good to know, because I plan on showing up in a clown suit," you deadpanned, causing him to let out another snort of laughter at your dry sense of humor. "Yeah, I'll get the big shoes and the red nose and everything. I'll pull up outside in one of those tiny clown cars, and when you open the door about five of us will fall out."

"Oh my God, shut up. Now you're just being ridiculous." He tried to make it sound like he was chastising you, but it was clear from the smile on his face that he was highly amused.

"What, you don't like the idea for my outfit?" You questioned in mock offense, clearly being overdramatic. "How dare you. And to think I was even going to give you a fake flower that spits out water as a gift."

By this point, the disastrous breakfast he'd had with his family was completely forgotten as you'd successfully distracted him from it. Even if he didn't say something was wrong, you always knew regardless and did your best to cheer him up, which was just yet another reason to love you.

"I love you," he blurted out suddenly, unable to stop himself. "And I'm sure my sister's going to love you, even if my mom doesn't."

"Aw, baby. I love you, too." You stopped walking, letting go of his hand only so you could reach out and touch his cheek. The act was so simple, yet so intimate at the same time. "Your face is all flushed."

"Yeah, that's probably just the cold," he muttered while staring at you with what could only be described as the biggest heart eyes ever.

He was certain you must've been aware of how flustered you made him, which was the other reason behind his flushed cheeks, but you chose not to point it out. "Come on, let's get you somewhere warm then." Taking his hand in yours, you began to walk again, leading him God knows where.

"Hey, where are we going?" He asked in curiosity, though he didn't seem at all bothered by the way you were dragging him along like a dog on a leash.

"My place. I need to look through my clothes and find something to wear for when I meet your family," you casually replied, finishing your coffee before dropping the empty cup in a nearby trashcan. "Hopefully my clown suit isn't still at the dry cleaner's," you added with a cheeky grin, proud of yourself for the joke you'd made.

Eric just scoffed in amusement, throwing away his own coffee cup as he followed after you (something he had to do given just how tightly your hands were intertwined). "Again, I told you what you wear doesn't matter as long as it's not something utterly ridiculous, like a clown suit."

You let out a playful huff as you tugged him in closer while walking together. "Well, maybe that's not the only reason I think we should go back to my place," you purred suggestively before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

By that point, the redness of his face couldn't be blamed solely on the weather. "Ah, so that's how you're going to get me all warmed up," he lightly joked, clearing his throat as he tried to appear unbothered.

"Absolutely, it is," you eagerly replied, your grin from earlier back and plastered proudly across your face. "Maybe I can even give you another piece of my clothing for you to leave with, since you seemed to love that jersey so much." God, you were going to be the death of him, but he loved it, just like he loved you.

"I'll make sure to wear it when you meet my family for the first time so they know that we're serious," he said in a manner that was only half joking before giving you a kiss of his own.

He really didn't want to get his hopes up, but he was already certain Serena was going to love you, and that maybe even Lily would give you her stamp of approval. No other past boyfriend ever made him want to introduce them to his family, but you did, and that's what made you so special.

"You know, I really can't wait to meet them," you said after a moment or so, your voice genuine and not joking like earlier.

The corners of his lips tugged upwards into a soft smile when he heard that. Maybe he was still a little bit nervous about you meeting them, but knowing you were actually excited about it rather than worried made him feel much better about the whole ordeal.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed, and for once the thought of his partner meeting his family didn't terrify him completely.

End notes: I really do love Lily I promise but I'm also aware of the strained relationship she has with her kids so I wanted this fic to be accurate and reflect that haha

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | Gossip Girl masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @theonetruepotato87 @caplanreblogsfics @samcvrpenters @bleachxbunny

[theavantgardette]

Richard Cameron SFW Alphabet . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The long awaited content for your favorite, morally grey redhead! This is dedicated for my Cameron girlies sitting in the corner, waiting for content. I've got u.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

This is so cute because he's like... the opposite of Neil. He doesn't show affection too overtly, okay, I'm sorry. But you know what he does?

Richard has this thing where he makes sure your needs are taken care of. Often times, he slips on your shoes for you while you sit on the bed, and even kisses your ankle like a sweet oath before putting it on. But you have to pretend you didn't see or else he'll get bashful and deny it.

He calls Todd a stiff but my God is he one lol. But you find it cute. You don't mind. You like to tease him a lot about it.

He's such a 'but what will they say?' guy to a fault. Obviously. So you pull his arm and whisper real nice to his ear for him to settle down, and you have a talk to him about his problem. He listens, and you comb his hair tenderly.

It ends with him crying against your shoulder. He regrets it all, even after years being out of Welton Prep. It's like he's been doused with a bucket of ice water. He's so glad he's met you.

Richard would've worked himself to death ('m not kidding) had you not been with him. All he needs is for you to put your arms forward and softly call out his name and he'll surrender.

His touches (when in public) probably limit to a hand on your waist or a bit lower to your hips if he's tired, but he absolutely melts when you flirt with him all sweet. He just forgets resolve and does not care anymore — to home you'll go!

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Honestly, I have to say you two probably met at university at the very least. He isn't the friends to lovers type y'all. If he wants you as his woman, then as his woman you'll be.

That's it. This is who you sign up for.

He'll spot you as "that cute girl across the room" (his words), and he'll begin 'courting' you. Like some wild animal.

But it's alright, he's the traditional type. Almost to a fault. He gives you roses one day, a nice dainty bouquet, and some courtesy chocolates. They're so tart and nice, and you can't help but question the rumors going around about how 'stuffy' and 'rigid' he is.

"Oh, thank you," you beamed, hugging the gifts tightly. He just looks down on you with a proud, half lidded gaze,

"It's no problem, what's not to give?"

He's entranced, girl. LOL.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

(Don't tell anyone) He LOVES it. So much. Probably relies on them a little bit.

Come on, he's a man deep down alright. He loves being hugged and loved by a beautiful woman and you are the only one he wants.

You probably end up cooing and doting on him a lot because he's so cute. And this might be the right time to tell you he makes BIG money, girl (more on the next letter!)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down?How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Okay, hello, this man brings home mighty cash. And he's so stable too.

Fine, in the context of poetry and art, he's an admitted loser at it. But that's only because his values align elsewhere; he's so ready to settle down, be loved by someone he devotes his life to, and treat them as they deserve to be treated.

There's a reason why he comes home at night with exhaustion on his eyelids, and somehow you still get presented with a medium-sized, deep turquoise velvet box that's shaped like a heart. Inside is a lovely necklace with an ornate ruby as the charm.

You kiss him with devotion and say your 'thank you's against his lips. He accepts them, limp with exhaustion. His briefcase plops on the floor as you take his hands. You're so proud of your husband. ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's gentle to you, not so much with himself;

Richard isn't too comfortable with anything below excellent. It's how he's been raised. When you mess up, he takes a deep breath, kisses your head and cleans the mess together with you — in any shape or form.

But when he makes a mistake? He feels like a total screw-up. He doesn't know what to do, he beats hinself up, he scowls and tries harder but he never takes it out on anything — let alone you.

One time, you noticed him being quite hard on himself, and you prepared him a cup of hot tea, some biscuits you made, and massaged his shoulders. He melted against you and cried against your lap.

This man is an anxious mess of someone who always tries their hardest. Reassure him and you'll be great.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He's the sweetest, most tender hugger. You feel so safe in his arms, it's like a shield around you.

Richard always has everything — and I mean every little thing — under control; he manages the bills, does the taxes (he prefers doing them for you, but you assure him you'd like to sit by him and accompany him. He's so thankful for this), and he always makes sure you get the best of the best. That's what he promised your father before he married you anyway, and he's big on keeping promises.

He hugs you when you're sad, brushes your stray hair away and kisses your forehead and temples. He lets you sit on his lap facing him, rubs your back, assures you you're his bestest girl and "we're gonna go through this together okay, hun?"

Yeah.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Quite slow ^_^ he wants it to mean as much as he values it, and he's a bit more modest with his emotions, so even he has to figure it out first.

But when he pursues you seriously, it'll only take him less than 2 months to profess. He knows what he wants, and he is not looking to waste your time.

He planned the whole thing out; dinner, nice refreshments, then under the moonlight will he tell you about his feelings. He even took note from Keating's lessons, albeit his love-hate relationship with them, and got a bit sentimental with it.

But it was all thrown off the hook when he saw how gorgeous you looked in your dress, all dolled up and ready to see him, smiling sweetly as you took his arm and greeted the night.

He blurted it out before the pasta even got to the table.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Richard would never admit it, but he gets more than a little bit bothered if his old alumni paid a little bit more attention to you than necessary;

They came over to your house, and of course Richard insisted you two serve them your prided jars of homemade cookies and some warm tea.

Charlie probably brags about his stocks being higher than usual or whatever it is business people discuss, and when you came downstairs, all went hurrahs in excitement to see how you're doing.

Once they all had their fair share of greeting you, of course your man had to dish them his classic "alright, alright, guys that's enough! settle down"

Yeah. You like him that way.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He does NOT want me to answer this one folks.

He kisses like a promise, like a little secret shared between the two of you. Only you know how truly sweet he can be.

He kisses to taste you, to tenderly encompass you in something that is truly his and yours, to grasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger and whisper something adoring against your lips.

He kisses like he's going to be there with you forever, like time stops and nothing else matters in this world. He knows you're his world, his globe, his life, all the essence that keeps him rejuvenated.

He needs you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Awkwardly sweet. He doesn't know what to do with his hands.

Say, you're supposed to babysit your best friend's son for the day, and for some reason he keeps babbling specifically for Richard.

You just stir his food on the stove and casually ask your husband to 'please watch over the baby, dear.'

He ends up reading a sports almanac for the tot.

Don't be mad at him, in his eyes it's genuine effort. And it keeps the baby occupied and entertained!

When the baby falls asleep after all is done, Richard smirks proudly at you.

'Ready to be a father,' he boasted, snaking an arm to your waist and leaning down to give you a kiss.

Lol.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He's a groggy guy, but he'll wake up early before the first bird even gets to chirp.

Richard kisses your temple, tucks you further in the blanket, slip into his robe and slippers and spends his time downstairs, on the porch.

He watches the neighbors go by on their bikes or on their daily stroll and smokes his pipe, polishing it with his satin handkerchief before and after each use.

Then he'll probably make you some pancakes (which lacked in sugar, so it just tasted like wheat) and diligently added a heap of blueberries and maple syrup on top.

You ate it together.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He is exhausted. The only leisure day for him is Saturday, so he'd prefer his nights then to be uninterrupted.

You'll run him (or both of you) a bath, and soak there before spending it in front of the fireplace. If it's Sunday, then he'll do his due work with the papers, pens, and manila files strewn across the carpet and coffee table. But if it's Saturday, then he'll just have an arm around your shoulder and discuss your next date out.

He has a scheduled life, okay. And you respect it (and find it attractive) 👀

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

AWWWWWWW If you've actually seen him, you'll know how sensitive he is.

From the beginning, he likes to talk about you, and he loves it when you talk about yourself. But when you asked about him, he nervously stammered.

He couldn't believe a girl as gorgeous as you could care so much about someone like him. It's impossible! he thought, but you beg to differ.

The more you spend time with one another, the more you knew about him. Richard told you about his mother, how he used to help her knit when his father's not home. He also spoke somewhat lovingly about his old man, how he used to take him to his work to learn all about the industry, even when he was small. But he also told you about how much pressure he faced when he was younger, how difficult it is to keep up with the others.

But he never, ever complains. Especially not when you smile so brightly each time he brings home something he bought on his own, or when he sees how beautifully you've decorated and maintained the home he's bought for the both of you.

He would never, ever think of trading his life with another. Not a chance.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He's a grumpy little baby, according to you. Never with others, just with you. His girl.

He would never openly admit if he's struggling or frustrated with something, unless you're there; then it's all "Aw, honey, I nicked my finger :((" or

"Man! I was excited for that game. Now it's all bull," and plops on your lap.

You just giggle and brush his hair back, kissing his forehead. Then he melts into your touch and you realize it was all a ruse.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Honestly, he's like a basic man, besides the fact that he stores every single thing he knows about you in his organizer.

Yes, he has a book dedicated for data inputting. That's Richard Cameron for ya.

He puts in your birth date, your favorite color, your favorite fabric, your favorite dress outlines and even ones he loves most on you, the spendings he's put out for you and planning for what's next (a.k.a. a section dedicated for you only).

Self explanatory.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Awwww he loved it when he took you to his parents' house and after (the very intense) dinner, you two sat on his doorstep and just... talked.

He held your fingers since they were freezing from the autumn cold, and you heave cold breaths against his blazer.

None of you wanted to go inside. He was giggling happily, all kissing your hair and hugging you close.

He wishes he could relive it again.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Okay, he is way too protective. It's like?? Your wife won't run or get kidnapped if you leave her side for one second dude you can chill out.

No, I'm so serious he is such a type-A so when you have to be separate from him, you have to be back at the time you tell him, or at least give him a call or a heads-up inbetween or else he'll get all anxious and worried about your wellbeing.

Your presence takes over his life girl </3 please take care of bro

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

A lot. And I mean... a little worryingly so.

He takes things seriously, has a principle that anything in life should be done with utmost excellence or else it's not worth it at all. This bleeds into your relationship in... interesting ways!

He gets you a teddy bear for your first anniversary. No, not those drugstore ones, an actual luxury brand teddy bear with a bejewelled neckline. Yes, its eyes sparkle too. And yes, you loved it.

He also planned a nice dinner with a view and an orchestra singing in the cafe (he aligned your schedules with the timetable the restaurant provided just to be able to see them), and you adored him the rest of the night.

In return, you've gifted him a nice watch with your initials embedded within it. He cried at the restaurant (he just couldn't hold it in) and ended up cuddling your teddy bear until you two got to the car.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

This is so funny but he'd think you two are possibly the best couple out there in comparison to... like, anyone and everyone.

You've told him not to boast, but his life's hard work is invested in your relationship. It's hard for him not to!

Richard makes sure each time you two go out together that you are feeling your utmost best so he could relax the whole evening and! Well! Pridefully shove your existence to every conversation he can join.

You remind him later that everyone began rolling their eyes, but he shrugged and got some grapes for you two instead.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

A lot. PLEASEEE did y'all see the GIF where he was joking around with Todd? Richard loves looking his best.

If Neil takes his time on doing house chores, Richard makes sure to put meticulous effort in ironing his shirts, gelling his hair, and even putting his trousers on the neatest he could.

He just knows looks mean everything in a shallow world, okay.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

YES. Lol.

I know I talked about secure attachment and all that on Neil's post, but with this boy? If you ever leave him, his breath would be taken out of his throat.

He's the sobbing breathless and stutters, struggling to sy how he feels type.

Please take care of yourself. If you ever even fall sick with the slightest fever, he would never leave your bed. And this creates such a moral conflict because he knows he has to work but seeing his darling all red in cold sweat and whimpering in pain leaves his heart aching too much for him to think straight.

He ended up calling out of work. Don't worry, of course he scheduled it ahead. Classic.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He loves your childhood home. If you still lived there before you got together, once you did, he'd ask to visit you there almost every week.

It gives him a nice sense of optimism about the life you two could build together, and seeing your old pictures on the wall from when you were small tugged a heartstring he didn't even know he had in him.

Also he finds your bed there really snug.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't like any sense of laziness or sloth.

Richard is... a hard worker, to say the least. He's stable, he's reliable, and he's straightforward. He would be way down if his partner takes advantage of that or worse, refuses to meet him halfway.

He loves your spontaneity, but he also values the stability he could bring. If you two could find a good balance, then he'll find it so much more magical to cruise the waves of your love.

Yes, he calls it that.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He puts in snore blockers, like those clamps on your nose to keep you from snoring.

Richard read an article once or twice about the statistics of people's lives being affected negatively by sleep apnea and he's been shaken ever since.

It's okay, you take it off for him if you wake earlier and kiss him good morning right after.

Howzzat for a redemption arc, baby?

taglist ⤷ @xpumk1n-p13x @olemotionalass @the-river-rix @freakyblud @the-undead-poets-society @irishcoffeeeyes @lc-27 @adriannlily @stephtuckerauthor @wolfstvrr

[oneforthemunny]

carry out |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: you had a hard day. eddie's there to take care of you.

the janitor!eddie smut you all wanted.

contains: 18+ MINORS DNI, fluffy a little, soft and sweet eddie, oral fem receiving, fingering fem

Eddie knew something was wrong with you at lunch.

You had this uncanny ability to brighten a room just with your appearance, a radiating and attracting positivity that shined bright and attracted others to it easily. It was what first drew Eddie to you, that beautiful glow that wrapped around him like a warm hug and pulled him in tightly, safely.

Oh, how he loved it. How he was envious of everyone you shared it with. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it just for himself, selfishly, store as much of it away in case you ever left him- God, he hoped with every fiber of his being you never did.

Today was different. Eddie's face lit up, perking up in the metal chairs of the teacher's lounge when you walked in, but this time, your face was sullen. A little droopier and pouty than usual.

"You alright, honey?" Eddie asked gently. He knew you didn't like a lot of PDA during school hours, wanting to keep it as professional as possible to avoid HR.

You sighed heavily, jabbing your pasta salad with a fork. "Yeah," You muttered, but your eyes didn't lift from your Tupperware container. "'M just tired."

That was an understatement.

Drained, was more accurate, Eddie decided. Emotionally, physically, mentally just drained, sucked dry of all energy. You'd managed to muster up enough energy, enough fake smiles and exaggerated tones to get through the rest of your lessons. Steve had offered to take your class down for drop off, which you were beyond thankful for.

You stood in the doorway, ushering your students into a line for Mr. Harrington, grinning though your smile didn't meet your eyes. Eddie watched from the edge of the hall, pushing his cart lazily to get the trash.

"Hey," Eddie called, abandoning his cart against the wall. You looked up at him, tired eyes and slumped shoulders. "You alright, sweetheart? You feeling ok?"

Your eyes cut around you, looking at the other teachers in the hall watching the two of you. Of course they knew you were in a relationship, everyone did, but today you couldn't bring yourself to dealing with their cutting glances.

Stepping into your classroom, you shut the door behind you and Eddie, leaning against it on the handle. "Ed, I am just so tired." You sighed heavily, head falling back on the door. "Today was... Today was a lot."

Eddie's face fell, lips pressing together gently. He searched your expression, your features, for any quirk or cue of something he could do, something he could read into to make it better for you.

"I'm sorry, baby." Eddie sighed helplessly. Fuck, did he hate feeling helpless. "What can I do to make it better? You wanna talk about it? Scream about it?" He teased lightly.

Your lips tugged in the corner ever so slightly, but your eyes remained dull. "I just wanna go home." You sighed, nodding slightly.

"Ok," Eddie croaked, tracking you gently while you grabbed your purse and bags from your desk. "I'll, uh, I'll finish up here and-and I'll head home soon, ok? I'll be super quick." His heart rate was rising a little too uncomfortably quick. He could hear the trilling thump ringing in his ears, palms sweating.

"Ok, honey," You muttered, pulling out your own keys. "I don't think I have it in me to cook tonight. I'm sorry."

Eddie shook his head fiercely, pulling you into his chest. "Don't worry about that." He said fiercely. God, was he such a dick you thought you needed to apologize for not cooking? Did he make you feel like you had to? What was wrong with him?

"I'll take care of it, ok? I'll take care of you." Eddie leaned forward, his curly bangs tickling your forehead.

You lifted your eyes to his, taking in those pretty brown eyes that always had you melting with the slightest gaze. "Let me take care of you tonight, sweetheart. I know you had a rough day." He cooed, hand moving to cup your cheek gently.

You turned into his palm, placing your hand over top of his own. Eddie flushed, familiar heat rising through his chest. There was that warmth, the one he'd been missing from you all day, a small glimmer peeking through the cloudy fog.

"I'll see you when you get home." You muttered, lifting to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It was brief, soft, left him aching for more, but enough to soothe his buzzing nerves.

Eddie finished gathering the trash and wiping down desks in record time, practically sprinting to his van after he locked up, flying down the roads towards your small home.

He found you on the couch, which he was thankful for, changed out of your school clothes, curled up and watching a movie. Relaxing, he was glad.

You turned to greet him, looking over the couch with half lidded eyes, still drooped and dull from the day, muttering a greeting towards him. Eddie was practically shedding his coveralls (the school mandated ones that made him feel confined and silly).

"Do you want me to cook, or do you want me to call something in?" Eddie asked, bustling into the kitchen, uniform bunched around his waist, flipping through the drawers for the menus.

You sighed with a shrug. "Whatever you want to do." You muttered, lazily leaning into your palm. "'M not very hungry."

"Baby," Eddie sighed, a soft edge to his tone.

"I just..." You hesitated, craning your neck to look back over at him. "Can you just come sit with me? Please?"

And how could Eddie not oblige? Why would he ever want to deny you? He'd rip his own heart straight out of his chest if you asked him to.

"What's going on?" Eddie asked gently, settling on the couch next to you. His hands found your legs, pulling them into his lap, spreading the blanket over the two of you. "You alright?"

"I just had a really long day." You let out a long breath. "I just... I don't even want to think anymore. I don't want to think about dinner, or-or school, or anything other than just being here with you right now."

Eddie nodded slowly, fingertips tracing featherlight patterns on your shins. "Anything I can do to help?" He didn't mean for his voice to carry that tone when he asked, but he offered it nonetheless.

He was a little surprised when you didn't grin or snort, just looked up at him with brows drawn up and rounded eyes. "Please?" You asked gently.

Eddie stilled, body going rigid slightly with shock. "Yeah?" He asked, a blush creeping gently up his neck. "I mean, if-if that's what you want."

"I honestly can not think of anything better to help me relax." You admitted softly.

Eddie couldn't help but grin, all dimples and twinkling eyes that glistened hungrily over your frame. You in your sweat pants and his t-shirt, his favorite version of you; well, besides you naked.

"Sweetheart, all you have to do is ask." Eddie grinned. "You know I can't get enough of you. Fuckin' delicious, you know that."

You blush under the vulgar praise, a tiny grin that leaves Eddie reeling. He's on his knees in front of you, shimmying your sweatpants off and fixing himself so he's got each thigh on his shoulder. He's practically drooling at the sight of your cunt.

Your hands find his hair easily, brushing through his curls with a content sigh, melting further into the couch while Eddie places sloppy smooches to the inside of your thighs. Teasing, just barely, he couldn't deny himself much longer.

Pillowy lips pressed against your mound, nose nuzzling into the light wiry hair there, breathing in your scent deeply. You sigh heavy. "Please, Ed, don't tease me."

Eddie didn't need to be told twice. Never, for you. Calloused hands pressing under your thighs, lifting your legs a little higher for him, plump lips kissing your slit once with a full, wet kiss. Then again, this time, his tongue slipping gently between your folds.

You squirmed, his tongue licking a stripe through your sopping pussy, teasing over your clit. Enough to get your hands gripping his hair a little harder, pulling him up back to your swollen bundle of nerves.

Eddie moaned, flattening his tongue to lick a wide stripe through you again, going back to lap at your sopping hole, catch every last one of your delectable taste. His nose nuzzled into your clit, leaving you hips bucking with movement.

"Ed," You whined, nasally and airy. "Please, right there. Use your tongue there." You pulled on his curls, raising him to your clit, throbbing and desperate for relief.

Eddie obliged. Of course, he did. He was good to you like that.

Lips curling around your clit, he lapped and suckled at your sensitive spot, eyes watching you carefully. With every flutter of that magnificent mouth, you were gasping, thighs closing around his head, squirming and rocking on the couch.

Eddie grinned, his jaw was aching a little, but he could see through your face, pinched eyes and small gasps, you were enjoying it. Your back arched, fingers knotted into Eddie's thick curls when his pointer finger sunk into you, curling into your spongey walls with ease.

"Oh, fuck, Ed. Right there, right there, oh!" You whined, hips grinding and rolling onto his mouth,

Your toes curled hard, heels digging into the blades of his back. "Please, oh fuck, I'm so close." You panted. "K-Keep doing that. Yes, that, right there."

Eddie pulled back gently, a second finger pumping in and out of you, thumb reaching up to circle your clit. "You got it, baby." He breathed out slowly. "I got you. I got you."

Your eyes rolled back, a black staticy vision consuming your sight when his lips wrapped around your clit again. Your hips jumped, sharp and thrusting with impulse, thighs quivering at the sensation. You could feel the pressure building, the lewd sloshing sound filling the room, missing with your pants and whines in a vulgar symphony; music to Eddie's ears. Fucking beautiful, he wanted to play it over, and over, and over.

A final curl of his fingers, brushing that aching spot inside of you had you spilling over, a wet release that flooded all over Eddie. He didn't let up once, not even with the burning in his jaw, or the way you were smothering him into your wetness. He'd gladly waterboard himself in your essence, that was hardly punishment in his eyes, more like his own paradise.

Your chest heaved, body shaking and spasming with every violent after shock that followed. Eddie waited until your were pushing him away, light presses of your palm to his forehead after he lapped you up.

Eddie laid his cheek against your inner thigh, resting it there while he watched you, slumped into the couch, chest heaving and eyes glassy.

"You-You're way too good at that." You shuddered after a moment, slinging your arm over your eyes. You could hear your heartbeat ringing through your ears, pussy clenching and spasming around nothing with every aftershock that shook and tore through you.

Eddie grinned. "You flatter me, baby." He teased, pressing a sweet kiss to the soft skin of your thighs.

You shook your head furiously. "No way." You moaned lightly. "There's no good reason you should be that good at eating me out."

Eddie blushed, snorting lightly, cheek resting back against your skin. The featherlight tickle of his long, dark lashes against your skin had you shivering lightly. "You feel better?" Eddie asked, those same long lashes batting up at you sweetly. Oh, you wanted to kiss him. If you thought you'd be able to move easily, you would.

You nodded, instead, a small smile gracing your lips. Eddie saw it, that same twinkle back in your eyes, breaking through the fragments of you that he knew so well. "I do," You hummed, brushing his curls gently behind his ear. He melted into your touch. "You always get me so good, baby. Take such good care of me."

Eddie burned with praise, moving to press a kiss to the palm of your hand, hiding his blushing cheeks. "So," Eddie groaned lightly, moving out from under you, stretching to grab your discarded sweatpants.

"Now that I've eaten," He grinned, leaving you blushing. "What would you like to eat?"

"You chose." You sighed heavily. "I'm not picky."

Eddie smirked, shimmying your pants up slowly. If he knew you (and he did), you'd want Chinese food. You'd told him once, that shitty days called for Chinese food, and good days called for pizza. He wasn't sure what your logic was behind that, but he didn't care. It was you, your logic, your thoughts, and all you. He was thankful, stupidly so, that he was apart of you, could share those small details with you, and wanted to know every single other one.

In time, he would, but for now; he just wanted to know what your bad day was about. You'd tell him later over half bites of noodles, voice gravely and soft. He'd listen, he always did, it was what you loved about him, so caring and attentive. You'd go to bed, and tomorrow would be better. It would be a better day for the both of you. You'd return with that same warm glow that had Eddie dizzy and wanting more.

[bloomzone]

Sooo… I’ve been offline for a long time Ikr , june was my "reflection era." And when I say I did absolutely nothing all month… I mean it like aside from my Mandarin class and overthinking everything, journaling nothing else related to my goals achievement journey and this is ur sign too to do a lil reflection days about how far you've become and ur mistakes ..

So I want to talk about friendships cuz the demon couldn't reach me so he sent me "2 friends" with multiple faces . I talked before abt study mistakes so maybe this is a serie of reflection about school mistakes ! Here's what I realized and some types of people you seriously need to stay away from … cuz I was too busy studying to notice during the school year !

TYPE 1: The drama manufacturer

• Lives in a constant state of manufactured crisis and comparison

• Lies about her life circumstances to gain sympathy or appear superior aka fake stories

• Spends most conversations tearing down other girls' appearances, achievements, or choices

• Creates a fake social media persona that doesn't match her actual reality

• Feeds off negativity and drama like it's her primary source of energy

• Makes you feel emotionally drained after every interaction

• Projects her insecurities onto everyone around her instead of dealing with them

TYPE 2: The Academic frenemy

• Acts supportive when she's ahead but becomes competitive when you succeed

• Attributes your achievements to luck while celebrating her own as pure skill

• Creates a subtle rivalry that you never agreed to participate in

• Wants to be the smartest person in the room at all times

• Can't genuinely celebrate your or any other person wins because she sees them as threats

• Turns friendship into a performance competition

• Makes you feel like you have to downplay your success to maintain peace

TYPE 3: The faith police

• Monitors ur religious practices like she's been appointed as ur spiritual supervisor or smthg

• Criticizes your hijab styling , makeup choices, or level of religious expression

• Acts like your personal relationship with God is her business to manage

• Offers judgment instead of support/respect during your faith journey

• Creates shame around ur spiritual choices rather than encouragement

• Forgets that everyone's path with faith looks different

• Uses religion as a weapon to control rather than a source of connection

TYPE 4: The fake innocent pick me

• Appears sweet and modest on the surface while being completely boy-obsessed underneath

• Gets genuinely excited about any male attention, no matter how minimal

• Plans her entire day around getting noticed by guys

• Criticizes other girls for "seeking male validation" while doing exactly that

• Masters the art of appearing humble while being incredibly calculating

• Uses her "quiet girl" persona to manipulate situations

• Lacks self-awareness about her own attention-seeking behavior

TYPE 5: the academic user

• They all wanted constant access to ur notes, explanations, and academic help at any second even if u are tired .

• They treated u like a free tutoring service rather than a friend (only show up for this)

• The help was never reciprocal u gave, they took

• They disappeared completely once they no longer needed my assistance

• They expected u to be available on their terms without offering the same energy

• They made u feel useful rather than valued

What I did & what every person needs to do

I made the decision to cut them off completely. I'm not trying to be dramatic about this situation because I know some people might say "this is normal" or "you're just being sensitive." But if you're a person who values your peace u wouldn't want to be trapped in a room with these types of people. You'd feel like a survivor dealing with constant pressure they won't physically harm u but they'll damage you spiritually and mentally , u'll dread going to school knowing you have to face these people, knowing you're forced to work alongside them.

After the last finals that we had in may they had been completely offline for the rest of the 2 months of school. They didn't send me anything I don't want to sound dramatic, but I was genuinely hurt because imagine ur so-called friends not texting you at all I don't want to seem emotional but I was expecting them to check in on me ask how I was doing basic things that friends do not only for notes or grades or "I have a crush on... " stuff . But they were completely silent

Then out of nowhere when results start dropping by the end of June they popped up in my messages like "hi what did you get?" And I straight up blocked them because that's the moment you need to make people understand that you won't tolerate this type of behavior like are u kidding me 💀 . This isn't okay especially girl to girl. Imagine your friends not texting at all not checking on u . So I blocked them without hesitation. Cuz I was already reflecting on the situations and I was like "there is no NEW CHANCE"

The lessons

What I want to say is this: the minute you start feeling like your friends and I'm talking about ur friends the ppl u talk / hangout to everyday are judging you, bullying you, or making you feel mentally and spiritually drained, it's time to move on. But here's the important tip I want to give you don't make any dramatic moves in the middle of the school year. It will be really bad for your mental health.

A lot of people think that the minute you realize your friends are toxic, you need to cut them off immediately. No girlie you'll actually ruin your whole progress for the school year. Instead of focusing on studying for exams or academics, you'll be thinking " omg i cut them off right now and they turn everyone against me?" Don't do this. Keep talking to them, keep walking with them, but make the internal changes first before doing anything externally.

Wait until you finish the school year, then you can cut them off completely. Some mindful people will understand and move on too, but if they don't, you'll have the whole summer to build really strong boundaries and become unshakeable u won't get hurt as easily trust me.

I experienced this so many times especially in middle school. If I chose to cut off a person mid-year it would be terrible because they'd start talking negatively about you, you'd start hearing rumors, and you'd get even more drained , just do what you need to do and start planning your exit strategy for the right time.

@bloomzone 🍀

[taffywabbit]

[kind of a longwinded vent post i guess, i was gonna just make a sort of tired joke post but then it actually wasn't a joke oops. don't feel obligated to read this, i just need to put my thoughts somewhere]

man. i am wayyy too damn busy this week to be getting hit with as many heavy thoughts and potentially entire-perspective-on-life-altering realizations about my identity and mental health as i have been. why can't i ever have important stuff to think about during literally any time when my life affords me the time and energy to think about it properly. it just ends up being loud background static behind my existing stress every time because it's like... i obviously do have tangible stuff i NEED to prioritize, and it's reasonable for me to put that first, but i still end up feeling like i'm somehow being cowardly or irresponsible by putting off the internal processing that's demanding i pay more attention to it.

i'm literally just living that one post that's like "i'm probably nonbinary but i have a job so i don't really care about that right now" or whatever, except i'm already trans so swap that first part out for a growing list of possible untreated mental illnesses, an increasingly-hard-to-ignore identity crisis, the looming dread that i cannot keep treading water in my current stagnant career forever. also, most notably, a general sense that i have no idea where my life is going or what i want from it now that i've finally broken down my mental wall labeled "you can't pursue anything else you want until you get your ass in gear and start transitioning already", gotten some joy out of that, and then realized there wasn't much else it was actually obstructing. and it's like. breaking that wall DID at least give me a clearer view of things and now i have plenty of other important stuff i could unpack, but it feels like i'm just stuck on a nonstop conveyor belt of "actually i don't have time for that because i'm behind on work again" that prevents me from making real tangible progress in figuring my shit out, even now.

like i am aware this is very much a "GOD i need to talk to a therapist" type situation but guess what! seeing a therapist costs a lot of money (yes, even in canada) and takes time and effort to set up, and if i want those things i'd better get my work done! except oops now i'm once again too busy to do anything BUT work, because i burned out and slowed down and the work took too long again and now i no longer have the time for the genuine proper break i needed in order to do anything for myself besides earn money.

one of the most frustrating parts is that HRT has seemingly made me a lot more emotionally sensitive and outwardly reactive (as it reportedly does for many people), and instead of that being the cathartic experience it should be, it usually just manifests as all my shit very visibly unraveling at the seams as i spiral and make an ass of myself and push people away, where i previously would've at LEAST been able to hold it together a bit better. so not only do i feel like i'm not making progress, it's constantly taking all the energy i can spare just to avoid crashing out and burning all my bridges and leaving myself with no external supports. my friends are kinda all i have right now, and i'm painfully aware that the more i procrastinate sorting out my issues, the more danger there is that i'll damage my relationships with those i care about if any of this internal pressure leaks out at the wrong time. which then becomes yet another fear to add to the pile of stuff i'm not equipped to deal with right now

idk. i was about to instinctively say "i'm fine tho" and that's very clearly a lie, but like. i WILL continue to manage at least. i'm not in any physical danger from myself or others, nothing is gonna happen to me, you don't have to worry about anything like that. i'm just overwhelmed and exhausted, and i don't have any good outlets for talking about this shit anymore besides just dumping it on friends at random, which feels shitty and i would really prefer not to make a habit of it. i just feel like i'm waiting for some kinda stroke of good fortune to come along and perk me up and give me enough of a jolt of extra energy to start doing things differently, kinda like last year when i suddenly stumbled into getting my transition stuff started and then THAT gave me enough confidence and excitement to seek out an ADHD diagnosis a couple months later. just something to break me out of this routine temporarily and help me feel unburdened enough that i can do SOMETHING, y'know?

but in the meantime i feel like i just need to like. signal in some way that i am Really Going Through It, if only to counter my own instinctive efforts to always maintain this illusion of perfect functionality and never cause any problems or allow anyone to worry about me or be annoyed by me ever. professionalism be damned, i make art for a living, i do not have the luxury of separating my job from my self-expression and trying to pretend everything's going smoothly in terms of work will always kinda inherently come at the cost of trying to convince myself it's going smoothly in my personal life too. to some extent i suppose MOST people don't - the shit that affects you at home is gonna affect you at your office job too, sooner or later - but in my case the false wall of work-life balance is like a two-way mirror, because drawing is also my most treasured hobby and lifelong source of comfort, and any outward-facing concept of professionalism i construct only exists for my audience. there's no fooling myself with this stuff, it's all i have and all i do and the only difference is that sometimes people pay me for it so it becomes "work", but not the kind i get to clock out of at 5pm on weekdays. if i'm going to talk about what i'm going through and be open about my feelings at all and encourage people to see me as a living breathing person, it inherently is going to make me look like i'm also complaining about my job, because my job is to make art and my art (paid or not) conveys a part of who i am. i cannot present myself as brand-safe and a human being at the same time, at least not without driving myself (more) insane

anyways this isn't an essay or anything, i don't have a conclusion? thank you for being here i guess. i feel like i'm at least breathing like 5% easier after getting all that rambling out of me, so that's something at least? i will now go buckle down and try to finish my remaining art obligations and then hopefully when that's done i will make a responsible choice and wait long enough before piling more work onto myself to just like. breathe for a sec and seriously consider if there's perhaps a better way to be doing what i'm doing so it does not make me crumble into dust. and also maybe pick like ONE life-shattering realization or crisis to poke at a little bit, if i feel up to it. hey btw did you know this whole post was originally going to just be a very short one where i half-jokingly reflected on the possibility that i might actually be autistic, but then started thinking way too much about why my brain refuses to latch onto that thought and keeps pushing it aside with a big stick labeled "who cares, i'm tired" and this post happened instead. yeah. anyways that's the most recent small addition to The Pile in case you were curious, yippee

[loversandantiheroes]

I don't know that I've talked that much about the general state of..like...me in awhile, and since it hit me that I'm like 3 years post-covid and at least that into the yawning abyss of this temp hiatus, I reckon it's due.

Physical/mental health stuff under the cut, general whining alert, etc.,

I don't even remember now when I officially put up the hiatus notice, but it's more or less been on since I wrapped the third chapter of Hotel Hobbies, and that feels several decades ago at this point. Initially it was just a really bad combination of creative burnout (self-inflicted bc why enjoy your creative outlet when you can throw yourself on the fire to keep it burning), my at the time untreated mental health issues, and back-to-back online/fandom friendship disasters that just left me feeling like more of a crater than a person.

Since then things have been very up and down. Some of the friendships mended, some never did and have left some lingering sore spots on things I wish I could still enjoy. I managed to get my ass to a doctor and started the process of getting back into treatment for my depression, finally got a diagnosis for ADHD at the ripe old age of 38, got into therapy, and spent a lot of time bouncing between medications trying to find something that works for me. Sadly, that process is still ongoing.

In the process of all that, though, I finally brought the issue of the god-awful persistent fatigue I've been dealing with to my doctor, and asked to be referred to cardiology. After three weeks of wearing a heart monitor and a quick lay-down/stand-up EKG, they confirmed POTS. I don't know if it's a gift from Covid, or an unfortunate result of the sheer amount of stress I've dealt with in the last decade and change, but it's a fucking bear to deal with, and I can't say I recommend it. Doc is also of the opinion that I have an a-typical case of PCOS. Just collectin' all the acronyms.

Suffice it to say that, while it absolutely could 100% be so much worse, it does turn out my physical health is...less than ideal.

On top of that at the tail end of last year, the month before the election, I finally realized that my burnout isn't just an "oh tee hee you wroted too hard" thing. Apparently caregiver burnout is an actual thing. And uh. Well, I fit the bill. I had hoped to be able to use this year to start shifting things around and try to work on that, try to give myself some more room to breathe and find some way to take the weight off of my shoulders (I'd started looking into adult daycare for my dad to give me a literal break once in awhile).

And then, well. November. And now we're here. And the fascist fucks are chomping at the bit to take away all the things that keep us afloat. My health care. My job. Dad's healthcare. His social security. It's an ugly-ass Sword of Damocles situation.

So yeah. I don't really have a point to draw to in all this except to say that I'm fucking tired. Physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, the whole nine yards. I've been running on empty for a long time, and it's proving a lot harder than I'd hoped to try and fill that tank up. And with as uncertain a future as we're facing right now, I don't expect it's going to improve all that much for a wee while.

I keep thinking that I should've made a patreon back before they changed all fees and such, but honestly, even if I had, I still don't have anything I can offer in exchange. I've got like three stacks of brain fog at all times, and my ADHD meds only work on one of 'em. I can hardly string a coherent sentence together most days. If you've wondered why I've been quieter than usual, or less responsive in messages, that's why. Fuckin' Pyramid Head clompin around up there.

Anyway, I guess, all this to say that I'm sorry that I haven't been able to get back to writing or painting. Believe me, I wish I could. I miss it terribly. But the spoons are too few and the fog is too thick.

It will get better, I hope, if circumstances allow. I hope they do. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared shitless these days.

But yeah. Miss you nerds💖