#i am way more mentally ill then last time they sent me so. yeah | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

boizandgurlzinthehouse · 1 year ago

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𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮?

summary: y/n didn't fell well in the last year... and she probably never will feel herself well again. word count: 2.832k trigger warning: SUICIDE, SELF-HARM (really, don't read it if it trigger you please please please), psych ward, signs of mental illnesses, heartbreak, hallucinating, screaming, farewell letter

count your fingers. breathe in, breathe out.

"are you doing this again?"

y/n sat on her bed, smoking a cigarette as she read the newest tabloids. others were watching tv in the lodge, but she preferred to out out some titles and interesting articles. the date stated 1995, may 3rd.

"you are no longer in the newspaper. they're dumb, never writing anything in these papers, fuckers."

scratching her neck, her nail broke at the end. it was weak ever since she got here, sleeping and eating was difficult also.

"but they were true about me."

she looked at him, pulling her knees to herself.

"fuck you, they weren't."

kurt sat at the leg of the bed, now the closest ever. he always stood at the door, sat by the window, or sat on the ground, facing her.

just keep counting. six, seven, eight...

"you look like you need a rest, love. dark circles doesn't fit you."

something constantly buzzed in her mind, like a radio band is always on, even if there's no music and no jokes. or the tv in the lodge at 2am, no shows were playing, she always talked with kurt at night, until the nurses didn't guide her back to her room. she was alone here, at peace, doing what she liked to do --writing her diary, reading books, painting her nails. he wanted to paint kurt's too, but he never came close to her, never let her touch him. he was distant, but in a comforting way.

"who do i need to look beauty for?" y/n asked, exhaling the smoke. kurt smiled, pointing at himself.

"for me."

"yeah, of course."

take your medicine. place a pill on your tongue, then swallow it down with a gulp of water.

the next dose of pills were laying on the plate, waiting for her to take them with a cup of water. they trusted her enough to take it alone, since she almost scratched her wrists from freaking out too many times. the clock on her nightstand ringed, it was time.

"you know i'll never disappear, even if you take those?" kurt laid back on her bed, reaching his hand to the ceiling.

brushing her hair, y/n turned away her head from him. she didn't want to hear this, and to turn to her sane sense.

"if you live only in my head, why can't i just make you go away?" she whispered, her eyes lingering on the lace of the curtain, forming an angel and a bunny.

"because you don't want to let me go."

looking at him again, the buzzing was so intense and it wasn't pleasuring. the voice wanted to tell her something, but it never could. it was a void. she was a void.

am i telling this to myself too? y/n felt tired, picking a pill, popping into her mouth. she ate more pills than actual meals, in the first two months, it was strange to even eat after only living on little pieces of medicine for so long. she looked at kurt, he was still here. ten more minutes and he'll be gone, but the pills only made her tired, they never sent him truly away. or, maybe it was easy to crawl into her mind. laying down, she used her boney arm as an extra pillow, dragging the comforter up on her body.

"when i wake up, piss off."

"can't promise, princess." kurt said, leaning on his elbow as he saw her closing her eyes.

days went like this --waking up before 10am, taking pills, skipping breakfast because the pills always caused her nausea, playing and talking with the others in the psych ward, talking with her own psychiatrist, eating lunch, taking pills, resting in the afternoon, reading the tabloids every wednesday, watching the telly or reading a book before dinner, and then, taking the day's last pills, and then sleeping all night, but she often woke up, sometimes two or three times even.

a knock woke her up from her deep slumber, making her shake. looking around, kurt was not around anymore --at least he kept his poor promise. a nurse, dorothy was standing in the door.

"good afternoon, y/n. you have a visitor."

it was strange. she broke her connections with most people, only dave and christ knew that y/n was still in here.

"who?" she asked, getting up to put on her shoes.

"his name is dave grohl. do you know him?" dorothy asked, making her nod. standing up, y/n went out on the door, seeing dave. walking up to him, dave smiled at her, but it was something uncertain in his eyes. y/n gave up for caring about other's feelings a couple months ago, since she couldn't even deal with hers.

"hello, angel! how are you?" he asked in the sound like you ask from a child, hugging her lightly.

"totally fine." really, she was in a psych ward almost a year from now on, what could she say?

"can we go for a walk? that girl... maybe dorothy? said that we can go for a little walk, i want to know what's going on with you."

stepping outside, y/n breathed fresh air only when she opened her window, and went for a short trip with the others once in three months. the air was calming, and the sun didn't shine too bright, flowers grow on the edge of the sidewalk. dave was so strange, like he also lived in her mind. but he doesn't have to know about that.

"so, what's up? hanging around, uhm..." he wanted to continue, but y/n looked at him.

"chill, dave. i know this place is a horror house. i'm pretty fine, dealing with my things and stuff... and you?"

"i'm fine also. me and jennifer talked about having kids, but i'm not feeling the time yet."

"i felt that." she and kurt had frances, y/n loved her as her own daughter, even if that crazy woman courtney fretted her for being in the baby's presence.

"i have some pictures about bean, do you wanna see them? courtney was against it, but... i thought you'd like."

"that's really nice from you, dave."

seeing the pictures, she felt like the whole universe laughed at her. the buzzing started again, she tried to smile. "how big she is!"

"yeah, well, she is just like her fath-"

dave suddenly silenced. because everybody knew. everybody knew that y/n got in here because kurt died, her mind couldn't comprehend the fact, and she began to see him. she began to hallucinate, and most of the time, she just laid on her bed and looked at the ceiling, not eating, not drinking. if she wasn't crying or screaming, she was sleeping or just being like a sack of potato. the most miserable sack of potato. almost a year, and she didn't even made the smallest progress. she clearly, medically went crazy because of her lover's death.

"look, y/n... me, jen, chris and his wife is going on a trip... you should come too. it's much warmer there in california, you could loose up a little bit, don't you?"

y/n scratched her arms, looking at the stop sign at the end of the road.

"it's a really nice idea, dave. thank you. it's just... what if kurt-"

"what? what about kurt?" dave asked, getting angry. "sorry, but what fucking about him?"

"nothing, just... nothing, really, i just don't want to go."

"because of him? y/n, i don't want to be mean, but did you look at yourself? his death caused all of us pain, but you literally got sick from it."

"what about me? what about me, what about me?" she yelled. "don't say that he's dead, because i fucking see him everyday, and i'm not gonna let it slip!"

"do you see him right now, huh? do you see him? because if yes, then you are just the same as those girls who get shocked to be normal just a little bit!"

"and what if i saw him? what if i saw him and he just could see that how big of a cock your are, fuck you, dave!"

he laughed like he doesn't believed what he just heard.

"here we fucking are again, y/n! because i'm a good friend of yours, i'm gonna tell you that nobody fucking sees him, nobody who's normal! i thought that it's just some aftermath of your depression, but..."

"but what? i am crazy? i am compulsive? i am fucking hopeless? because you know, every fucking day was a menace since things got fucked up!"

"no, you are fucking worse than you were when he died!" dave screamed, trying to reach for her arm to get her back to the psych ward, but y/n clawed at him like a cat, while from the tip of her throat, an enormous shriek came from her, and then y/n just snapped.

"HE MAY BE DEAD! AND EVEN IF HE IS, I WISH I COULD DIE EVERY DAY JUST TO FREE MYSELF FROM ALL OF THIS VOID!" her vocal cords almost teared up as she screamed, crouching on the ground, holding her head. this was the end, the waves crashed above her head, the endless sea of her depression caged her in.

like a switch finally turned down, y/n tried to collect her breath, but it didn't helped. she went too deep, and the last breath of hope was sucked out from her.

"are you okay? y/n, fuck, are you alright?" dave asked her. y/n stood up, brushing her hair from her face.

"yes, i think everything's okay." she felt her own voice static, but it didn't matter.

"okay, then... shall we go back? you must be tired."

"yeah. let's go back."

dave didn't even know that he saw her the last time alive.

"i hope you get a little rest. i think it wasn't a good idea to come, but... i care about you. we all do." he said inside, y/n pulled up the muscles of her lips.

"it's okay. it was good to see you, dave." giving him a hug, it lasted a little bit too long, but he wanted too, so it wasn't a problem. she just wanted to feel loved after so long.

"see you later, y/n."

"yeah, see you too, dave!" she waved to him from the window, dave got out his camera from his car.

"do this again! wave and say, 'hi everybody!'"

"hi, goodbye, good morning, good afternoon everybody!" she sang while faning with her hand, smiling. dave waved to her the last time, then he got in his car, riding away.

do kurt miss christ and dave just as she?

1am. 1995, may 4th.

not a soul walked on the hallways of the ward. it was peaceful, only the small droplets from the fountain harmed the silence. only one bathtub, filled with water, a hand hanging on the side of the white porcelain. little curls of steam floating in the air.

"are you sure about that?"

he was here again, with her. kurt leaned on the brim of the tub, looking at y/n as she collected the pills. she's gonna swallow all of it, with two gulps of water, and then... she didn't know what's going after this, but she couldn't handle it any longer. life was too heavy, she felt it on her shoulders, her spine, her head, it crawled it's weight into her guts from day to day, a new day, a new weight.

looking at him, she stopped in her movements.

"did it hurt?"

kurt only smiled at that, saccharine in his smile.

"did life hurt?"

"only when you weren't there." she replied, then, placing the first dose of pills into her hand. "i wrote a letter. i hope they find it. and i hope i'll find you."

because she hoped, really. she had hope, not for life, but for him. she felt dumb every time she saw lame romance movies about people can't live without each other, but it turned out that it was true. she literally died without him, and air got much more suffocating.

looking at the pills, she looked up to the cross on the wall in front of her. so this is the end.

"i'll look for you, kurt. i love you." she said, not even paying attention to the fact if he was there or not, even if he just lived in her head. downing the pills, chug, another doze of pills, chug. just a couple of minutes, and no days will be spent with agony and crying, screaming, watching shitty movies, trying to live.

somehow, it was comforting to her.

laying back in the warm water, she saw kurt coming closer to her. her vision began to get blurry, and she felt stomach churn, her heart and liver exploding, but it was only a little pain. her lover bend over her, and maybe he touched her, kissing her forehead, but she didn't felt it. there was no movie in front of her eyes, playing her whole life, there weren't any so special things from books the writers always talked about. it was just laying down and resting for awhile.

in her last moments, she felt nothing else but warmth.

dear everybody, or anybody who finds this,

i never wasted too much words about anything. maybe i should have done, but i'm not gonna change this, so please, don't judge me. it's rude to judge dead people anyway.

everyone who thinks that my actions is in connection with kurt, they're right. i don't want to brag about my mental state, let's just say, i didn't feel well in the last couple of months. people around you change you, taking you to a ride, and i guess that i wasn't ready for the end of the ride. in the end, i only want you to remember that how wonderful and gentle, unique and perfect creatures we are. i loved myself, always, i just didn't love the way i felt.

some words to the people, because i was too much of a scaredy-cat to talk with them in the last rounds: dave and chris. you two are truly wonderful, the best guys i could ever imagine. i'm sorry that you have to get to know about this in a letter, but please, never let kurt's memory die, and maybe, don't even let mine. i didn't do a lot of good things in my life, but i loved. i loved and cared, and maybe that can be valuable even for you. courtney, i know we've never been good friends, but maybe, we never could be. i just want to wish you strength and courage for the rest of your life, i've never invalidated your feelings. maybe i felt just like you, excluding the fact that i don't have a lovely supergirl. frances bean, you little star; you won't remember me, but i'll remember you. you are the most fantastic girl i've ever known, and you'll gonna rock the world, just like your father did.

i don't want you to be sad. i wasn't sad, just a little crazy. living our lives without our loved ones claims us to be strong and brave, but i'm not enough brave for it. you're gonna do it instead of me, and my gratitude will chase you forever.

never forget to love and care! i did the same.

y/n y/l/n

she opened her eyes, sun shining through her eyelids. where the hell she was? feeling something soft under her touch; she laid on sand. little rocks pressed into her palms as she sat up. she didn't know where she was, and she wasn't even certain if she did what she did. coming to her senses, the waves crashed in the ocean only a few foot apart from her. washing the shore, it almost get wet her too. it was peaceful and unusual.

but she was not the only one sitting on the beach.

a figure, 60 feet from her sat just like her in silence, looking at the ocean and the dawning sun. could it be...

standing up, she was unsure in her steps, but somehow, she managed to go closer. it was him. instead of screaming and jumping, she simply crouched beside kurt, looking at him, so she was sure that it's really him. the wind blew his hair, his lips surely were salty from the air. brushing through his hair at the back of his neck, the blonde curls felt like silk. he was an angel.

without saying a word, y/n leaned her head on his shoulder. she could touch him now, watching as the sun bleed through the sky. she felt something warm in her chest–

–sure it wasn't reality. but it didn't even needed to be.

a/n: this is my first oneshot in this genre, and to be honest... i don't want to write more. i just had a very depressed couple of weeks, and this just came into my mind. i won't write fics like this, it turned out that i like domestic comfort and fluff more. if you liked it, or want to request, write in the comments, dm me or write here

stay safe, love yourself girliez,

louisa

#kurt cobain x reader #kurt cobain #nirvana #90s #dave grohl #chris novoselic #send me requests

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borom1r · 9 months ago

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WAILING @theshakespearetrash sent me 2 ask memes for Boromir asks (who is very much Not my OC skfhshfjjs but I will Always do character analysis I love character analysis so much. rotating him so fast in my brain. microwaving him on high)

+ not to be a kinnie on main (voice of a man who is always a kinnie on main) but I will be answering these all w/ a sort of Boromir-lives scenario in mind -w-

anyways ask meme 1 + ask meme 2

1. What memory would your OC rather just forget?

ok I feel like it’s the cop-out answer to say “his fall to the ring” but I feel like Boromir is the sort of person to.. not like stew on things but very much takes the stance of “good or bad, all my choices got me to the current moment and made me who I am.” + I feel like there’s so much tangled up in his fall completely beyond his control where that’s the only memory that he’d like. actively want to erase from his mind

2. What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

HM. good with kids. I think unless you’d seen him with Faramir/his cousins when they were younger you wouldn’t guess (he’s a soldier and a very plain man when he’s not putting on a show for his father), but he’s just genuinely great with kids

3. What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

loves too much + quick to lose hope. painfully aware of this

4. When scared, does your OC fight, flee, freeze or fawn?

fight response. 100% the kind of man who gets kicked out of a haunted house for punching a scareactor even though he knew a scare was coming. Faramir and Aragorn have both almost gotten throttled bc they unintentionally snuck up on him

5. How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

OOO. When He Is Of Sound Mind, not actually very far. he was raised with the knowledge he would be giving his life to Gondor, whether he died in battle or sat on the throne as steward. add to that the act he puts on for Denethor, everything he does to protect Faramir— he’s a man born to serve. his own wants come last

6. How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?

it would take. a DESPERATELY long time and an almost complete degradation of his mental state. Boromir arrives in Rivendell in October 3018, and the very next day is the Council, at which point he sees the ring and is IMMEDIATELY influenced by it. yet he doesn’t fully fall to it until the end of February 3019. he’d been fighting its pull for almost four whole months by the time he does anything malicious. resisting the One Ring for FOUR MONTHS. <- reasons why if I see someone call Boromir weak for falling to it I will see red.

7. What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

teehee obviously again Boromir is not my OC so I will take this as an excuse to Be A Kinnie + say, I do remember Boromir being returned to us sometime after my coronation. so that’s one way my memories differ from canon, which is sort of an answer to this prompt snfjsjfj

8. Would your OC ostensibly be able to get away with murder?

OH YEAH. I mean yeah if we’re talking like actual criminal murder and not just Slaying People On A Battlefield like. yeah 100% he would IF he was within Minas Tirith. you know Denethor would do everything in his power to cover that up lmfao

9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

YEAH YAYYYY I GET TO MAKE MORE PPL LISTEN TO CROM AND BARONESS!!!!

anyways “have you ever seen a man so strong have you ever seen a man so great when he fights time stands still and everything seems so unreal but deep inside of him this man is torn” what if I bit things about this song

+ also listening to Magnolia and Shock Me by Baroness with Aragorn/Boromir in mind makes me ill. im Unwell.

10. What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

HMMMMM The Frankenstein Chronicles gave me brain worms so I might write a Frankenstein-inspired thing at some point. sth sth consequences of divine resurrection

11. What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

RAAAAGH. AUTISM TIMEEEEE.

Boromir uses a hand-and-a-half arming sword (meaning it’s balanced for single or double-handed use, with a crossguard). it’s a really elegant sword, very simple and utilitarian. speaks to an adaptable combat style as well. but, interestingly? Boromir carries a Rohirric shield, and if you notice Rohirric swords don’t actually HAVE crossguards the way Gondorian blades do. this tracks, and was common with Roman and early Germanic swords— BECAUSE these cultures were Also relying on shields for blocking.

and an additional note, Faramir’s sword is single-handed. so we’ve got a ranger who prefers the use of a bow and hasn’t experimented much with his sword combat, and his brother who prefers a sword and carries a very versatile blade with 1) a Rohirric shield and 2) a ranger’s vambraces designed to protect his arms from a (nonexistent) bowstring. I just find Boromir’s mix of protective gear so interesting, esp if you consider he and Théodred as at LEAST friends. like Boromir carries so much of the people he cares for with him into strange lands even when he (arguably) has little need for such gear

12. Is your OC self-destructive? In what ways?

yes and no. I think, not consciously? but he absolutely values himself lower than the people he cares for. he goes to Rivendell to keep Faramir out of danger, he takes multiple arrows to the chest and keeps fighting to defend Merry and Pippin. I think if there’s a risk of someone he loves getting hurt, all self-preservation goes out the window

13. If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

oh I would be staring at him like a predatory animal and trying to psychically convince him to lay on me in full armor

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

HGH. ok I don’t think he necessarily. does?? and this is generally a Silly Little Headcanon bc of a comment a Most Beloved Friend made abt how everyone gets their autism from their dad (real+true) + now in my head “haha Faramir got his autism from Boromir instead” BUT. like genuinely I don’t think Boromir has an actual image of himself in his head or like processes that ppl perceive him, necessarily. and particularly when his father is holding him up as this aspirational figurehead for Gondor, like… I think he’s just himself, in his head. idk how to describe it well for the neurotypical ppl in the room snfskfjs sorry. like I don’t process myself as having Traits so ppl tell me they think I’m cool or funny or they enjoy being around me and it’s always like “!!! oh!” + I think Boromir is the same way. I think Faramir could describe Boromir to him + Boromir would just be like. “huh.��

15. Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

it’s Sean Bean + it will always be Sean Bean. sorry other Boromirs you simply pale in comparison

16. What is your OC's pain tolerance like?

VERY high by necessity. he’s a soldier he’s absolutely patched up his own injuries before, at least to hold over until he could see an actual healer

17. What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

ahh. I wrote a very personal fic exploring self harm urges w/ Boromir, so I suppose that

18. Is your OC more cold and detached or up close and personal?

very personable, when he’s of sound mind sndnsj

19. How does your OC behave when enraged?

oh he’s a silent anger type for sure. just seethes quietly. hello, consequences of spending time in an environment where you have no actual outlet for your anger + must simply sit there and Stew.

20. Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

again, When He’s Of Sound Mind, no. the man’s got a big heart and life’s too short to be petty

21. Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

hitting him with the autism beam bc I can. I do also think he’s lost at least partial use of his arm in a Boromir Lives scenario, considering where the first arrow struck him

22. What character alignment would you consider your OC to be?

HMMM neutral good. he’s not chaotic enough to be.. chaotic (lol), and I think he’s too willing to go against Gondorian Popular Opinion to be lawful.

23. What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

HMMMMM pain, actually. or “weakness.” I think if he can quantify it in his head as “showing weakness” then it’s getting stuffed in a mental box and Not Addressed

24. What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

ok well. None. I think with his circumstances he had zero choice in his path. HOWEVER. I am deeply DEEPLY fond of Boromir learning how to play an instrument after the war ends. I STILL struggle to blow my wassail horn that shit takes SKILL that I do not currently have and Boromir was the BEST at blowing his horn?????? I think he deserves to learn how to play an instrument, esp bc Aragorn, Merry and Pippin would ALL be delighted to have Boromir play while they sing. Boromir learning hobbit folk songs????? Rohirric songs, to honor Théodred?? yeagh.

25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?

HES SO. FUNDAMENTALLY LOVING. love is such a core aspect of his character he is so wholly loving that the ring has NO CHOICE but to try to twist that love. bc it’s all Boromir has. love. im going to throw up abt him.

AAAAAAAAAND:

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

has he ever BEEN completely alone? mm, no. has he ever felt that isolated? I think absolutely, by the time the fellowship leaves Caras Galadhon. obviously he doesn’t deal with it well el oh el.

as for how he acts when no one’s around to see him… I don’t think much changes, tbh. he’s not the kind of man to Perform for anyone except his father, and then with the express purpose of placating the man and keeping his ire towards Faramir to a minimum

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

been betrayed? hm. truthfully, no, though I’m certain he felt betrayed by Aragorn’s reluctance to be anything resembling a king.

has He betrayed someone? Technically Yes, though again, if we apply the qualifier of “When He’s Of Sound Mind” the answer is no. his betrayal comes under the influence of a Malicious Magical Artifact Which Has Been Fucking With His Mind For Months, so.

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

ooo, hm. I think not, actually, though it is a fun little idea for angst

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

gestures wildly at canon. I mean that’s his lowest. we’ve all seen it.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

again, canon— to see his people safe. he’s very open with that desire, lol

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

AH. canon again. though what he does to move past it… mm. quite a lot of atonement, I think. perhaps of the self-destructive, working-himself-too-hard variety. I do think speaking with Faramir about *his* experience with the ring would help, because Boromir is the first to hold Faramir up as this sort of paragon of Goodness. so I think to know *Faramir* was tempted would help him better ground his experiences as, like…. Not A Deep Moral Failure Exclusive To Himself

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

ehehe. this is one thing I’ve touched on in a Faramir-centric fic, but the idea that the ring showed Boromir visions of Faramir dying at Denethor’s hand should he fail to return with the ring.

had Boromir lived to discover Denethor had nearly burned Faramir alive…… Mmmm. mmmmmmmm.

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

worst possible? if he’d actually managed to claim the ring. I shan’t elaborate -_-

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

MM. his own actions. dead friends, dead loved ones. though if you mean literally, haunts him, I do like to think that Théodred’s Oðr pays Boromir a visit every now and again

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

see above. handles it?? mm. atonement, again. direct action. he accepts it and does what he can to make it right

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

HATE? Orcs, probably. Sauron. that tentacle motherfucker outside Moria. he’s not a hateful man, so. shrugs.

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

that ended badly in the interpersonal sense? mm, unlikely. more ended badly in the “somebody fucking died” sense.

I do think he had One (1) fledgling romance in Dol Amroth that ended with the other squire dying and that was sort of the catalyst for “ah. If I love people they’ll Probably Die, so maybe I won’t do that” baggage that he didn’t really unpack until, I think, Théodred. add the additional layers of Denethor Being Denethor and Boromir having such great standards to live up to…. with all the love in my heart, that relationship only happened bc Théodred saw Boromir, went “I need to fuck that Gondorian so bad it makes me look stupid” and proceeded to work his way through 1700 layers of gondorian mental bullshit just so he could suck some dick (me too bestie)

hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

hm. my first instinct is to say “not much” but ultimately I think he’d hide anything he can quantify as “weakness.” his own distress, any physical pain if he needs to be up and moving, etc. he’s only able to share that earnest moment with Aragorn in Caras Galadhon bc of Galadriel’s influence. he’s not used to being seen. so, if there is sth that would hold him back from fulfilling his duty as a soldier it is absolutely getting hidden/ignored.

hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

hm. not necessarily Hunted, but I do think he is followed by Denethor’s expectations. it’s sth I’ve talked abt in another ask + that I go into in the costuming doc but such a key element of Denethor’s design is his son’s motifs but Richer, Grander. so… I do think Boromir is constantly alert of, like, how his father will perceive him, bc there is this very insidious sort of competition, this need for Denethor to show his sons up (whether a conscious need or not). and I do think that would weigh on Boromir quite heavily

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

mm again I think he only really wears a mask/performs for Denethor. anyone else would be too much effort for too little reward. at least if he plays Golden Son for his father, it keeps Faramir from being harassed as much

however, as for who gets to see him when he’s.. not just unmasked but actually RELAXED… Faramir, his uncle and cousins, Théodred, Aragorn, the others in the fellowship but particularly Merry and Pippin

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

does he have nightmares? oh definitely. what he does in the small hours of the night? depends. if he’s on campaign/traveling/otherwise away from Minas Tirith he will either lay there in his bedroll and Think (bad) or get up and write letters. depends entirely on where he’s stationed/who he’s with. if he Is at home in Minas Tirith, I expect he just goes for a walk + looks at the sky

mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

I think I’ve pretty much answered all of this above, so skfjsjdh

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

nah, he’s not ❤️‍🩹

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

answered w midnight for the most part— I’ll just add that no, he wouldn’t really talk about his nightmares. that requires showing vulnerability lol. I think Théodred and Aragorn are the only two who could coax him into speaking about his nightmares/fears (he wouldn’t want to burden Faramir with such nonsense)

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

answered sorta (yes he has a high pain tolerance) but worst pain? gonna go with three orc arrows to the chest

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

HMMMM again I don’t think there are many secrets. I do think if Denethor found out he liked men it would be disastrous

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

hm. I think he’s generally at ease with himself, or at least content with Not Thinking About These Things. I think, had he directly survived the arrows, he would have to grapple with like. the idea that he did prove Aragorn’s fears about men correct (whether Aragorn would agree with him or not)

torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

Four Months Of Slow Mental Degradation Due To An Accursed Magical Artifact!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉

(no he wouldn’t torture anyone else)

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

hm. He would say mostly physical wounds. I’d argue a mix of both. he’ll accept as much care as he needs to stay on his feet and fighting. worst wound is definitely still arrows lol

#THANK UUUUUUUU THIS WAS SO FUN #I love character analysis sooooooooooo much snfjsjfjhd

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chaifootsteps · 4 months ago

Note

Hi hi! It's me, Concerned Anon (Directed to the Anon who had expressed feeling threatened.). The doc I created is NOT meant to harass people. I am fine with regular people in the fandom, it's extended to people like DJ and the like. I scrolled through the Doc and there's nothing of the sorts threatening people to off themselves.

If that's the case, then I would remove it. This is towards Chai as I treat him as a source. I feel like most people assume the Doc has content that's "Extreme as all hell" when in reality my language is only directed at people who commit actual crimes, I am not that extreme with my beliefs and anyone who name drops me on twitter for "threatening behavior" is only spreading false narratives and this ask is meant to clarify some things.

I do not care for the tame side of the fandom, as long as your not doing anything shitty and bad then it's fine by me.

The beginning of the Doc has stated numerous times to not harass others or send any hate. Hence: "If you are reading this with the full intent to harass anyone in the critic community or even outside of, then don’t. Especially if you follow Viv’s work and worship her. This will only further add more to the document and cause more issues than not. This document is meant to inform and educate/help others and make sure that Viv doesn’t get away with anything, as much as you like to not listen to what has been said, just act civilly and don’t act like it’s the end of the world because someone says VivziePop’s writing is bullshit. This will also serve as an open letter of some sorts, a walking, living, reading example of what the fanbase has done, that if VivziePop tries anything, we can show this document. You can still like her work and be critical of it, no one’s forcing you to not like it. "

The end of the Doc has a harsh message to the more "messed up side" as usual, most of us cannot control who comes to who, but we can also tell people to NOT harass others.

I do not intend to spread hate, if anything I am harsh on people like DJ, Dani and the creator.

My blog is not a Critic Space, nor do I intend for it to be that way. People who clarify this post as me being "harsh" hasn't read the full doc and are going off what Fans are saying.

I am simply only harsh to people who harass others for opinions, Dox, send death threats etc. Anything as a result of my Doc is my bad. But it's not in bad faith. I am simply doing my due diligence of cleaning up the Fandom, and if you haven't done anything wrong then I see no point in worrying.

I know this ask targeted to Chai, but this is for everyone whose worried. I am not some crazy "Critic" I am just someone whose Mentally Ill, with several disabilities who have been mistreated by the fandom and keeping archives.

By all accounts I am a normal human being. I just want to post Dragon Ball, not be called someone who wants to "hurt others" (trust me, the last time I did I ended up in the loony bin. I literally had the FBI shown up to my place."

So yeah, Doc isn't meant to sent any harassment, and if there's people doing that, cut that out. I am not dealing with this shit right now, as I already got alot on my hand.

I once again want to apologize if my "posts" causes issues. Not my intentions.

--Cooler's Malewife, Anon

Passing this along even though I have absolutely no idea what doc you're referring to. It sounds fair to people who enjoy the shows though, which is the way it should be.

#Anonymous #Concerned Anon #actual blog post #viv stuff

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1nv1s1bl3-r41ndr0p5 · 2 months ago

Text

vent under cut

[topics of exams, school refusal, panic attacks, sh, mental health, sensory issues, emetophobia and sui]

I'm really freaking out about exams. I haven't been able to eat properly for the past few days because it makes me feel sick due to how anxious I am. I've spent all day stress-cleaning because I know ill have a breakdown coming home tomorrow if it's still messy. I hate talking to others about how stressed I get because I always get the response "oh yeah I get really stressed too" but I know for a fact I get more stressed and worked up than them. I physically cannot stand the exam halls anymore. my mocks last year left me traumatised- the lights were loud and bright, I was sad amongst everyone, and my mental health got so bad during them to the point that I had one of my worst relapses and I attempted 7 times in the space of 2 and a bit weeks. I cant do that again. I've already been sent to hospital 4 times this school year and I'm in counselling again I really can't go back. I hate the hospital. I hate being treated like a child just because the thoughts in my head get too much. I dont know what to do because my friends always compare themselves to me and say "omg your grades are so high you don't need to worry" but I do. I do worry because I've worked so fucking hard to get my grades to this point and if I don't do well I will disappoint everyone around me. I will be a failure to myself and everyone else. I'm not coping and I won't be able to cope. I cant do this. I really can't. the school refusal is bad enough as it is at the moment, I'm being forced into school and ik if I can keep going. I dont want to be there. I cant be there. it's too much. and they put so much pressure on me to do well and I just can't do it. I had a breakdown in my RECORDED speaking exam and I had meltdowns in both my maths exam and English exam a few weeks ago. I dont know if I have the mental or physical energy to put up with the breakdowns and the exams at the same time. a girl in my geography class had a really bad panic attack on thursday and it made me realise that that's how people talk about me when I have a panic attack. the death stares I gave my classmates were immeasurable because I realised that I get treated that way, without them knowing what's going on. they treated this poor girl that way, gossiping and staring as she tried to walk to the door but fell over because she was shaking too much. thank everything my godsend of a geography teacher was there. she is so bloody kind and I genuinely teared up seeing how gentle she was with the girl. I understand the panic she's feeling. I cant do these exams. other people I know have been saying how stressed they are but they don't get it. why can't I be the "worst" without someone competing with me for once. I'm not a comparison, I'm a person who's struggling to stay alive and cope with the debilitating stress and anxiety. I just want a hug but I don't doubt that I'll be ignored again, like usual. I fucking hate my life. I wish I was dead.

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lia404 · 9 months ago

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Get to know me better game—2 in 1 because I'm 6 months late

Tagged by: @baratrongirl and @missmewachu

Thanks for being so patient while I was figuring out how Tumblr works again and why I had a blue dot beside "Activity" (as in, notifications about tag games I've been sent 6 months ago. Better late than never 🤦‍♀️) Thankfully the tag games you sent my way are very similar so it won't be hard to do 2 in 1!

Last song I listened to: Chipzel - Courtesy - YouTube

The 1st track of Super Hexagon, composed by Chipzel. Chipzel's music has been a pick-me-up since 201...4 I think? And since I fell back into Super Hexagon around a week ago, the music has also found its way back into my work playlist.

Currently reading: Trick question! There is what I am MEANT to read, and what I am ACTUALLY reading.

What I am MEANT to read is To Shape a Dragon's Breath, by Moniquill Blackgoose, which has absolutely all the elements I need to love a book. The problem is that my brain absolutely refuses moving further than Chapter 1, and I've been stuck for MONTHS. The good news is that when it happens, I usually struggle until the moment my brain finally snaps and I read the whole book in an afternoon. Wait for me, Moniquill Blackgoose, I'll soon be raving about your book.

What I am ACTUALLY reading is... well, it's more re-reading, but I'm going through Happy Hour by Inkflavored and Keep the Light Shining by Clydeside, two Yu-Gi-Oh AUs that have been incredibly healing for me in the past months, for very different reasons. I wanted to re-experience them to see if I could turn them into fanbinding projects (if the authors give me the authorisation of course, but I haven't reached this level of confidence yet, let's give it time.)

Currently watching: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS.

Do you believe me if I tell you that it was an accident? It kinda was though! I wasn't the one who played the first episodes I just kept going afterwards. That said, I have fully adopted Yusaku. I kind of wish he could meet Philip from Kamen Rider W. Things would go so well.

Currently writing: this one is plain cruel, because after a drought spell of almost 2 years, I finally feel like getting back into writing (thank you, current obsession.)

I have 3 WIPs, one PWP because I like a challenge, one backstory of a character that has basically become my OC, and one AU that @wisyhana created and that I'm using as a wonderful sandbox. I am between 2k and 5k into each, nothing is complete, I'm losing my mind. But at least I'm writing again, right?

Spicy/sweet/savoury: Okay yes no it's cruel again and you will not make me pick just one.

If you've followed me these past years you know that I have completely lost my sense of taste between 2020 and 2023. I was lucky enough, and honestly even the specialised doctor said it was a miracle, to have most of it come back to me abruptly in March 2023, after 3 years unable to enjoy a bit of chocolate or a nice gratin. Some tastes are lost forever, but so few compared to what came back that I just can only be very very grateful and very confident in saying SPICY SWEET SAVOURY I'LL TAKE THEM ALL. I LOVE TASTES. ALL OF THEM.

Relationship status: I have been told polyamory looks good on me.

And I am lucky to have the most patient and tolerant lovers ever. EVER. I love them so much and I'm so bad at showing it because I am a mess. There isn't a day where my heart doesn't overflow with gratitude that they are in my life and agree to putting up with my bullshit.

Current obsession: Listen, Mew put it SO ELOQUENTLY I can help but quote:

mentally ill traumatised japanese teenagers and their ancient egyptian guys who hang out in their jewellery all playing card games.

So, yeah, current obsession is Yu-Gi-Oh!, and with it Duel Links, and everything children-card-game-adjacent. I am currently trying to figure out why everyone in this kid's show is so hot and delightfully traumatised. Characters after my own heart, all ready to be projected on and used for cathartic writing purposes. Other obsession is MEW'S FAULT TOO ACTUALLY since it's my newly founded Clan in Flight Rising. Ask me about my dragon Atem.

Favourite colour: I like my colour like my wine—burgundy. (I actually like all sort of shades of purple, violet and red, but I don't know how to list them.)

Tagging: Wow uh who do I know around here who is still active?

@twilightknight17 for sure (although I'm sure you already did it), @wingsonghalo maybe? Uuuh, I think @the-wanderer-of-thoughts and @istadris? You know, considering how inactive I am here, I think it's already a lot, but if you're not in the list and want to do it too, be my guest!

#lia blabla #tag game #it's been weeks and i still have no idea what i am doing #why is formatting such a nightmare #and sorry this is so long wow #do people really actually read these things or are they here for the writer to pause and consider how they'd answer #lia in fandoms #i promise next time i figure out how to insert cuts in posts i thought it was something that was automatic

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gordiita · 4 days ago

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do you actually like ur husband & if u don’t can u not leave him ??

hey sorry i didn't get to this yet i was making dinner when u sent it last night and i dont get much time to myself.

so like. im not sure what depth of honesty you're expecting so i dont know how to answer this actually. its complicated, on both accounts.

i was a completely different person when i decided to move here 3 years ago. i was seeking adventure and boy did i get it! but my frontal lobe was underdeveloped, i was desperate to be loved, had nothing to lose, and of course i was in love with him. i still am, somehow.

i think it's moreso that he literally wants nothing to do with me. he is not attracted to me. he puts a pillow between us at night. i genuinely think he doesn't like me or love me. he likes having me around to make his life more comfortable - feeding him, doing household chores, listening to his rants. aside from paying our rent he doesn't help me with anything and he's not interested in me as a person. there's zero affection, he refuses to do things with me or really do anything outside of his strict personal routine (99% sure he has undiagnosed autism but he refuses to accept this) and yeah if anyone was curious he does hit me sometimes im not joking about that. that's life!!

i should stop myself ahead of this tangent bc i could go on. he has his share of flaws and annoying habits but i'm not certainly perfect either. i just wish he was nicer to the woman he claims to love.

in regards to taking action to dissolve this (dumping his sorry ass) i'm not dissing your level of maturity here when i say im guessing you've never been married. 'leaving' is reeeally not that simple, logistically or emotionally. it'd be way easier if we were just dating but marriage is a binding legal contract. again i dont mean to sound condescending it's just more complicated than many would assume.

plus, as you may or may not know, i immigrated from the US to australia to be with him. might sound unwise but at first it wasn't, i saved up plenty of money to fund my move and establish myself here, i did everything the right way, and i'm still waiting on immigration to process my visa after nearly 3 years. that's not really something you can just hit undo on. it's not like i just moved across town into his place, i moved across the literal planet.

financially i have nothing to my name and he doesn't have much more. the economy is really bad here. i did get a job but i havent started getting paid yet, even when i do it's only one shift a week. he, in combination with mental illness, has isolated me from having a support system. i have no friends, no confidence, no safe haven. my family can’t help. (1. they dont have much themselves 2. they’ve done enough already 3. my mom is my closest family member and she thinks he’s an angel so that’s not happening.)

money (or lack thereof) is definitely a factor but even if i had it i can't just up and break my lease on our apartment. we also have a cat who is like our child and i really do not want to leave her. cats do indeed have feelings and form close bonds with their people and i couldn't break her little heart like that.

plus australia’s divorce laws are utter bullshit!!! you have to be officially separated and living separately for a whole year in order to file for divorce. not to mention well he’s basically threatened to either end himself or live out the rest of his life wallowing in misery if i ever leave him. i can’t have that on my back. i’m fucked. basically i’m fucked!!!

ultimately it is what it is. i just wish he would like beat the shit out of me once and for all so that i had undeniable physical evidence. i mean, he does that, but not in a way that anyone would notice. even if he did... i don't leave the house enough to anyone to notice/care.

i've kinda given up on having a fulfilling relationship or expecting better from him. instead i'm trying to seek happiness through self initiated means. hobbies and stuff. self-improvement.

the hardest part is knowing that i want a family - most who do start by my age - but he would make a terrible father, and the longer i wait, the less time i have to find anyone else who would be a decent parent. torturous position to be in. but i got myself here didn't i.

#i wish it were that simple!!! many factors at play #i hope you can underatand this

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kerubimcrepin · 1 year ago

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Episode 33 - Noffoub's Fountain (Part 1)

His ass is not working.

Oh, this is hellish. I got this far yesterday, and today I opened this liveblog with a killer headache and decided that actually, this is not worth it.

Maybe someday I'll return to this, but god, translating even this far was a game of Guessing, and I don't have the patience or mental fortitude to do this rn.

Joris's shocked reaction to this is very understandable, because, as we've repeatedly seen, he does not have a very rigid sleep time.

Chances are, he goes to sleep at 8 only on paper, and then it's like "I need some choccy milk papycha" and "A story before sleep papycha??" for an hour or three more.

When Kerubim insists on making him sleep, it's because something is up, and he doesn't want Joris to be around for it. Joris may not realize this, but it would likely make him feel anxious.

Joris, being a single child to an old man, probably has a strong need for routines and familiarity in his life. Especially now that Simone is around to keep their home in order.

Obviously, he doesn't like deviations from the status quo.

I'm so normal. Being normal about Joris's psychology comes to me as easy as breathing. YES, I am reading too much into this, but it really is interesting that the second we see him sent to bed before he is supposed to go, we see him do this, which is usually a coping mechanism in children who aren't very good at coping mechanisms.

And he's cuddling a plushie, which isn't an every-day occurrence for him, judging from the last episode's depiction of Joris sleeping.

One more sad ball in the "Joris is developing at least 2 different mental illnesses from the way Kerubim is raising him as we speak" agenda.

He's so bad at this. This stupid sword isn't even on his way to the stairs. And he can see in the dark, being an ecaflip. Silly ass goofster can't even look down.

"(L/R)AFEZGRZHGROEHTORPJTR" and "A BLA PIPI POPO BLA HIHAHA"

Very succulent, show.

I still think about the word Amaknak. Is it the same thing as "Bontarien" or "Brakmarien" because "Amakneén" may sound too fancy sometimes? Is this A Guy? Am I stupid? Haunting.

This is the face of the man who knows what is coming.

Yeah and I bet you looked cute in it. Lol.

Best moment in the entire series.

He's like a scolded kid. It takes a second to remember that he's Joris's dad and does not have to make shit up to answer the question.

Have I ever said that I headcanon Joris to have ADHD? Because I feel like this is the perfect episode to say that.

He's so happy to learn new info, he doesn't eat or sleep about it. He is the Cutest little creature ever.

#ro liveblogs dofus #dofus #wakfu #krosmoz #ep33

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pushupcontest · 2 years ago

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Chicago Med Group Chat

Pt. 7: Connor’s phone

Mental illness specialist or wtvr: Daniel

Pepper spray girl: Sarah

Unknown number 1: Elsa

Unknown number 2: Lanik

Dude who won’t stfu (maybe ava’s crush???): Noah

Attending: Latham

Will (can’t fucking spell): guys i hav good new. I have leaenee how to spell (sorta!)

Unknown number 1: Yeah, thanks to me. You are all very welcome by the way.

Nat: You are fired. He still can’t spell.

Maggie: Is someone jealous? ;)

Avey ❤️❤️❤️: Hey Sarah ;)

Nat: No, not jealous at all.

Pepper spray girl: Heyyy :)))

April: Elsa, you should have taught him better. Also Nat, you are definitely jealous!

Ms. Goodwin: 🤣

Me💰: who’s pepper spray girl?

Avey ❤️❤️❤️: what are you talking about?

Unknown number 1: You don’t need to be jealous, Natalie. Will is not my type. At all.

Unknown number 2: He better not be…

Me💰: 1 of my contacts says pepper spray girl but idk who that is

Ethan: Oh. That might be my fault.

Will (can’t fucking spell): HEY! Wtf elsea???

Dude who won’t stfu (maybe ava’s crush???): Ohh yeah i remember when sarah did that lmao

Pepper spray girl: …

Mental illness specialist or wtvr: You guys need to be more sensitive.

Ms. Goodwin: Maggie, the idea you had yesterday really impressed the board. You are the best head nurse!

Dude who won’t stfu (maybe ava’s crush???): But she’s the only head nurse

Ms. Goodwin: 🤣

Me💰: ethan did you change my contacts last night at the bar???

Ethan: I might’ve.

Pepper spray girl: fuck you ethan

Avey ❤️❤️❤️: 🔪

Maybe: Sam Abrams: …

Maybe: Jay Halstead: I’m so confused right now…

Maggie: Thank you, Sharon!

April: Ethan, you were at a bar last night???? You told me you couldn’t help take care of Vincent because you were working?

Ethan: Oops

April: Oops? That’s all you have to say?

Unknown number 2: You guys have a kid???

Maybe: Sam Abrams: You guys talk too much, I’m muting this.

April: No, Vincent is Ethan’s sister's kid.

Unknown number 2: Ethan has a sister???

Ethan: Sorry April, but I already see Emily too often now that she volunteers at the hospital.

April: Ethan, you are so irresponsible.

Me💰: wait i was so confused about the contact that i forgot to acknowledge the fact that you sent a winky face to sarah???

Avey ❤️❤️❤️: yeah…

Pepper spray girl: ;)

Maggie: ;)

Ethan: And you are so critical. How can you blame me for not wanting to spend time with my sister who literally stole drugs from the hospital???

Pepper spray girl: emily did what????

Ms. Goodwin: Ethan, I think you, Emily, and I need to have a little chat…

Unknown number 1: Why am I not surprised?

Dude who won’t stfu (maybe ava’s crush???): Omgg drammmaaaa

Dude who won’t stfu (maybe ava’s crush???): Someone’s abt to get fired

April: Noah, you should not be laughing at such a serious situation.

Dude who won’t stfu (maybe ava’s crush???): No

Me💰: not to interrupt whatever this is but ava??? are you flirting with sarah?

Avey ❤️❤️❤️: yes

Ethan: What the hell, April?? Emily and I might lose our jobs because of you.

Me💰: you’re a crazy bitch we’re over

You have changed Avey ❤️❤️❤️ to Crazy bitch

You have changed Pepper spray girl to Pepper spray girl (ava’s crush)

You have changed Dude who won’t stfu (maybe ava’s crush???) to Dude who won’t stfu (noah)

Crazy bitch: rot. in. hell!!!

Ethan: We’re over too, April

April: Fine, as long as I get your sister in the breakup.

Unknown number 1: And we’re over too, Lanik.

Unknown number 2: What????

Unknown number 1: Jk ;)

Unknown number 2: … Attending: I hope this breakup doesn’t impede you two from acting professionally during surgery.

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pigeonfancier · 7 months ago

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I hate how the darkskinned indigenous-coded man with more "nonwhite" features is written with no characterization other than being violent and abusive while the more light-skinned native man with light hair is shown as gentle and understanding. The scene where the indigenous women are shown staring in awe at Shuna drawing a bow feels particularly bad, I feel like it promotes the idea of white women being the ones who can introduce change and "save" women of color.

I got some hate on the elfquest forum for posting my criticism, ppl were telling me my opinions are "ill-conceived" and "dont like dont read".

This was sent November 2023, and I'm replying now, because I just remembered.. I wrote a response and then drafted it for all of eternity? I am truly a paragon of communication.

But yeah, everything about Shuna's books and plots is just shit. I was a bit more mealy-mouthed about this last year, but: the Pini's love their blonde, blue-eyed saviours, and the Sun Villagers' position as a rare exception feels largely like they were just trying to make their product stand out among other comics of the time. Once it did, the job was done, and they got to lean back into the white saviour shit. Antagonists look more ethnic, protagonists look more white (or will gradually shift to looking more white over time).

I'd add more analysis but you caught it basically on the nose. Shuna's entire narrative is not great, and it is an example of why having an editor to rein in creatives is generally a good idea. Most people need someone who is not invested in your story or your characters to produce objective criticism, because that editor is a hell of a lot closer to how your readers will perceive your work. I don't think the Pini's think of any of their writing preferences as racist, nor do they really care if they are - they are in their mid 70's. But it might have been a different story back in the 90's or 2000's.

Or might not have! Who knows?

Also, yeah, that's the Elfquest forums for you. The Father Tree Holt one born after the closure of the original might be better, but I doubt it - I know I joined when it began and was not impressed. It's a lot of the same people from the official forums, and subsequently, it's largely just a continuation of the same problems. The problem with older fandoms tends to be people largely wailing 'don't like, don't read' when it comes to criticising works. Which I almost understand, when you've been reading a series for the last forty five fucking years: for some people, that level of investment will come with a certain amount of defensiveness. I do not have that with media, but I can understand where it comes from.

But it seems very silly to me. Not everyone likes analysing media, and that's perfectly fine! Forums are great for that conflict, because instead of trying to shut down a discussion, you can just simply not click the thread. You don't have a feed that'll try to shove shit at you, you can literally just not click the fucking thread.

I still side-eye the fact I made a thread on the original forums discussing the biomes of Abode as a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed teenie, full swing into my obsessive EQ stage, and was promptly told by multiple people that I was overthinking it, I shouldn't bother, and it was silly to focus on shit like on the feasibility of biomes / speculate on how the biome could've ended up in the canon way over how it would appear irl. But that was the response to almost any variety of genuine analysis of the material on the forum, tbh, even down to things as relatively easy as "is Strongbow an asshole?", or "how long do the wolves actually live for?", or "do you guys think that the narrative has a weird take on consent?". I'm still slightly salty over that years later, obviously, haha, so not surprised that "but WHY are you trying to engage with the material instead of just fawning over it?" mentality carried over to the new forum.

#d. reads #d. rambles #I would apologise for taking forever to reply to this but tbh at this point #I think everyone who has witnessed my online communications is probably aware that I am but a simple (a)social sloth #and not even the cool south american giant sloth making massive tunnels underground for innocent people to fall into #just like one of those three-toed pygmy sloths that lives on some itsy bitsy little island on the ass end of an archipelago #and you're not entirely certain if that's a sloth or a birds nest until it moves exactly three centimeters to the left #then goes the fuck back to sleep #this is me moving three centimeters to the left

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phoenix-angel-suyari · 1 year ago

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Okay, I have a dilemma.

And I would very much like to hear as many opinions as possible in regards to a solution.

I have a very good friend who I've known from HS who is in the same sort of private care as I am - house/pet/plant sitting, nannying, etc. She suffers from chronic illness and works very hard to stay afloat. During a storm, a pipe burst in her home making it uninhabitable. My friend couldn't keep up with work, so, I helped her organize contacting all of her clients. She has a particular pair of clients, young but wealthy who are hover dog parents. I have worked with them before, so they contacted me and asked me if I'd fill in. I agreed, because I wanted to make sure my friend still had a job to come back to and because I desperately need the money. So, I agreed to be paid at her salary - which last we spoke, was the same as mine.

It isn't anymore. I am honestly appalled by how much my friend was being paid for the amount of work provided in the long hours required. No bonuses. No compensation. Nada.

I had to constantly pester them in order to get paid. And at that, they would often dodge, asking for more hours. But, I need the money & my friend needs for one thing to not go to hell in her life rn. My friend has since returned, but, the wife told me they'd rather not bother with her flightiness and want me to take over. I told her I was booked for weeks and I'd let her know if any availability came up. Last week, one of their dogs bit me. Twice. I told them right away via a group text. The husband responded with, "Yeah he can get that way about food. I usually feed her in the bathroom and close the door." To which I responded that I'd been unaware he was food aggressive. To which the wife replied that he is not.

When I got home, I sent them pictures of the massive bruising that had flowered from one of the bites. The wife apologized. I didn't hear from them for four days. I was not paid in those four days. And then I get a text asking for my availability for this week. I reminded them that I was not available and then had to argue my case to be paid.

They only paid me for the work, which when divided is less than $5/hr. For over 8 hours. A day. Plus I stayed extra for their furniture delivery. I gave one of their dogs medication, which they never informed me of, but when asked told me which dog - I usually charge extra for medical coverage, because it can go sideways really fast. They never told me their dogs didn't like the rain and I really messed myself up, two weeks before con, when I should be resting up for the energy expenditure and physical toll inbound. They did not compensate me in any way for being bitten.

This all is very much a means to not work for them again. And I would do that, except, I still need money for con. Saving up over months just covered the tickets and what I have left is for food and maybe a good bargain here or there. (And before anyone brings up why go to con if you can't afford it, yada, yada...I can afford it, that's the whole point. I'm fucking up my body doing a thankless job for fucking pennies to afford it. And it is the only time I get that's ever just for me and I need it for my mental health. Legitimately; my psychiatrist and two therapists have agreed.)

My dilemma is...do I offer them two days of labor that will absolutely wreck me for con so I can barely make another $80 that I will have to fight to be paid for but will absolutely matter? Or do I stick with being booked and just concentrate on preparing for con?

I'm really struggling, guys.

#my life #NYCC

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diaryofme98 · 9 months ago

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Journal Entry #2

The power was out yesterday and I used the time to read through some of the texts I sent Fabian last year to the fake number. Honestly, now that I know he for sure read all of these, because of Finch (thanks Fabian) it gives me a different perspective on them. We really did bond in a fucked up way in June.

I told him about all my psychosis, every single problem I ever had with my family, my insecurities, etc. I showed him a gross picture of my room, I sent him a picture of my boob, and I sent him a thousand gifs of couples kissing when I was going through the worst of my psychosis and needed something happy to focus on.

The most fucked up part about June is I used texting Fabian as a coping mechanism. I used it to help me with the worst of my schizophrenia. So for him to just... Take everything I said and use it to scare me. Man. It's uncool. It is totally uncool. I thought we had something going with each other. Yeah he never responded through the fake number, but we had a bond going. We were repairing the damage between us.

So for him to fucking go all American Psycho on my ass, get an honest to God bald cap, and scare the shit out of me when he knew how poorly I was doing... It's just fucking disappointing. Like I expected better of him.

I trusted him with the most vulnerable parts of me and once again he fucking disappointed me and betrayed me. He keeps doing this. I don't know how he can drive to my freaking house and scare me then text me telling me he wants nothing to do with me. It's a far distance between Texas and California! It isn't an easy trip to make! He put so much effort into scaring me! He's such a jerk.

I know in his defense I said some pretty not okay things on my texts last year. I mean. I WAS in psychosis. I wouldn't have said those things in my right mind. I certainly wouldn't have sent a photo of my boob either. So it's like. Cut me a break. I just talked about family incest and being molested as a kid. And thank God none of that really happened but ... I fucking thought it did? I genuinely thought my dad raped me? I was paranoid and psychotic. He didn't need to make it worse by scaring me. Fabian could have used the most vulnerable time of my life to be there for me. He could have helped me! Instead he made it worse.

I don't know what to think of Fabian anymore. I know he knows too much about me. The mess that occurred last year... I told him everything. And maybe it is a good thing we aren't in each other's lives anymore. I don't know. I don't even know if I have feelings for him anymore. I don't know if I see him as a best friend anymore. I'd like to. But I probably just need to choose myself for once. I need to protect myself.

I know he's probably reading my blog. He'll probably keep reading this to see if I figure out anymore about him stalking me on a motorcycle. Or he'll just read it in general to stalk me.

If you are reading this Fabian:

I wish we could put aside the bullshit and talk. I won't tell anyone you stalked me last year if you are honest about it. I think you'll find I'm a pretty accepting person. I just want to talk to you. Yeah you did something weird and fucked up, but clearly my texts from last year pissed you off. It's not an excuse but like... I get you are a human. I get you have emotions. I get you have reasons for doing what you do. I'd rather not just be a girl you stalk quietly. I'd rather be in your life in some capacity. I'd be your friend again, if you ever wanted that. I don't know why you are willing to stalk me but you aren't willing to talk to me. Am I that freaking scary? You scared me! I'm not that intimidating. I'm 5'3, I have schizophrenia, and I'm kind of probably just the same nerd you remember dating. I'm not that different honestly. My medicine manages my mental illness. I'm really just- I'm really just okay.

I go to Baylor next year for college. Maybe you'll be more willing to talk to me when I'm away from my family. I don't know why I get that vibe. I guess cause you stalked me. So maybe when I'm alone you'll talk to me. I don't know. I'll move on with my life, I'll do other things, but I'll probably always be curious about talking to you. Not only cause you were my first love, but I think you are mentally fucked up in the same way as me, we are both weirdos as you once told me. And I never did meet another person like you.

#filed under: my journal #filed under: diary entry

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lamamasjamas · 3 years ago

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Twenty Year Vacation

To Say Hello- The Marías

Summary: Din convinces you to go to Alderaan and in the process you seem to scramble your life more than it already is / You confront him after not seeing him in years.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

a/n: Dámelo Sauve 😩 literally. I love this song, and I've been depressed so hah! My mental illnesses motivate me. Have some angst and mommy issues because I am y/n this time. Mwah. Also ignore Grogu in the gif lol he’s not in this yet. 😒. A/n edit: This takes place after the bunk and before the argument of the last chapter.

Warnings: SMUT (but said softly), Angst, fluff, angst, fluff, angst, parents in a derogatory way 🤧

You called me up, you said enough. I miss you. I messed up.

I'll see you when it’s cold, when darkness starts to fold.

His back was facing yours. You’ve recently taken a liking to his food. He secretly blushed whenever you complimented his cooking, often accompanying your comments with vulgar and over exaggerated sounds to further prove your point.

In your words, you liked his cooking because it felt like something made in your home world. He liked to use spices, herbs, and different ingredients to make what he thought were very plain foods, actually good. You were his official taste tester, always being the first to try his experiments and techniques he’s learned from his covert and uses in the tiny kitchen at the station. He liked that he was associated with your home. He liked that he made you happy and warm.

As you lay the back of your head against his shoulder, he thinks that he would like to be your home. Your new one, since you always say how much you would hate to live in Alderaan. You always tell him how much you don’t miss the planet, how much better off you are away from your home world.

Hearing you snort at whatever was being said on the HoloNet News made him think you might be right.

“...Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan making her debut in the senate. Tensions rise in Coruscant as she comments on the over-policing of imperial guards sent by the Empire to monitor over suspected areas of insurgency.”

Her voice speaks loudly as the commentator's voice stops. A clip of her standing over a crowd of senators appears on the small holo in front of you.

“The Imperial senate has a duty to ensure the prosperity of the Galactic Empire. How could we ensure this when those who have sworn to protect us and keep us safe have brought insecurity and fear? We must reform-”

The holo pauses and you stare as she stands in your palm as if she were a ghost. She stands tall and regal amongst everyone else. You’ve noticed that she directs her attention to the viewers of the holo. It was as if the senators before her were an afterthought.

She wasn’t talking to them. She was talking to people beyond. You scoff amazed and shut off the transmission. The room goes back to being almost pitched black. So, the rumors were true. You hope they don’t find her out too quickly.

He speaks suddenly amongst the silence that follows.

“You should go visit before things start to get worse.”

He scrapes his spoon along his bowl and you do the same. After eating another mouthful of rice you nod against him.

“Yeah.”

…

Ran was as conniving as ever. He often wonders how he was able to get away with so much considering the amount of trouble he causes. The amount of things he doesn’t say and hides away from the crew could downright bring everything in the station to a standstill.

Din didn’t like the way Ran supposedly bumped into him at the right time, and that he was looking for an opportunity to talk to him in private. He didn’t like the way he offered him a job that barely gave him enough details to find the hit on and he especially didn’t like the way he was asked not to tell you.

A holo was placed in front of him. A man with a tall and lanky build, thick frames as well illuminates in blue. Ran described him as quiet, reserved and easy to detain. He said it was going to be easy but the pay was extremely high.

Din leaned back against the chair in Ran’s office and crossed his arms. He didn’t feel right about this.

“What’s the catch?”

Ran grins, “The catch is that there is no catch”

Din rolls his eyes. He always has been stupid. It's a wonder he still has as many connections as he does now.

The thing about Mando that Ran respects was how serious he could be. Most of the crew called him callous because of the way he stared when someone tried to speak to him. He purposely made people uncomfortable with his stoic demeanor and he knew Mando secretly enjoyed it. The one person that wasn’t affected by his signature stare and his aura of haughtiness was you. You did the exact same with others.

Two closed off people canceled each other out. Ran didn’t like how friendly you two had gotten. In his view of things it was better that nobody had any loyalties to each other. It made things run smoother, for him at least. He’s pretty sure that one of the twins would shoot the other for the right amount of credits.

“Why did you ask for me specifically? I only do jobs with the crew or with her.”

Ran leaned in as if he were about to share a secret.

“I heard about what happened in Mandalore. A real tragedy really. The Great Purge is what they're calling it isn’t it?” He readjusts himself upright on his chair opposite of the Mandalorian.

He could practically feel the palpable discomfort and anger coming from where Mando was seated. He clears his throat.

“I just want to help my friend, that’s all. Consider it a get well soon gift-”

“No.”, Mando interrupts. Ran suppresses the urge to smirk, as he stands and heads for the door. He didn’t want his charity. He knew there was something more complex behind the job.

Just as Mando was about to turn the hall, Ran shouted from his office.

“Let me know when you're ready to take the job. You need to expand your horizons, take some solo action. It will always be available, just tell me when!”

Din scowls from underneath his helmet and heads to the docking bay where he knows you're readying the ship to depart.

…

“Be safe.”

“I will.”

“Don’t start shit with anyone.”

“I won’t.”

He adjusts the collar of your jacket gently. His visor was trained directly at your face and you cleared your throat from how flustered you felt under his stare. You two haven’t really talked about what happened the other day in the bunk.

It was just accepted as the next step to something.

He turns and fusses over a part of the net attached to the sides of the hull. He claims you haven't tied it well enough to keep your belongings safe.

“You're just like my mother.”, you comment as you retie a knot he said was “horribly made”. He chuckles lowly.

“I hope so. I don’t babysit for nothing.”

You gasp in shock, and put a hand to your chest.

“I’m appalled, Ruby. You really think of me as having the mentality of a child?” You whisper loudly, “After all we’ve been through, this is how you see me?”

His shoulders bounced but you couldn’t hear a sound come from his helmet. You grin.

“No, not you. I actually babysit-well, no- it’s more like I train actual children.”

You look at him in confused awe.

“What? Really?”

“Yes. It’s for the bettering of the covert. This is the way.” He failed to mention how much he genuinely enjoys spending time with the younglings. He felt a great satisfaction from teaching another generation that can hopefully go on and explore the world instead of being stuck in hiding. Even if some of them have their faces covered, he can still feel the way they looked up to him and held him in high regards.

“Do they have cute little helmets like you?”, you stare up at him expectantly.

“...Yes.”

You squealed and wiggled in place. And to think just the day before you assassinated someone in cold blood. In your mind you imagine a small child with Mando’s exact armor. The scuff marks and blaster shots included. You can even imagine a little holster and pistol. Of course, you couldn’t forget to add the little hip cock and signature belt grab in your little vision. You giggle and coo uncontrollably.

He demands you leave before you die of asphyxiation from laughing too hard as you made him prop his hip out. You laughed harder when he grumpily crossed his arms on his chest. You finally quiet down when he pulls you closer to him by the waist and presses his cold and metallic forehead against yours. For a moment you stare up and see your eyes reflected against his visor. Sometimes you swear you see his own eyes staring back at you, but you know it was just a trick of the eye.

You wish you could see them one day.

“It’s a kiss.”

Your brows furrow.

“When Mandalorians want to… show affection, when they greet or say goodbye, they bump their heads together.”

Your eyes widen slightly and he swears he can see you shiver. “Ah”, you nod in understanding.

He’s never done this with anyone. Not even with those from the covert. He’s not really in the know of wooing women, but the way you close your eyes and the way your eyes flutter when his hand goes up to caress your sides and up to your neck, makes him think he’s getting the hang of it.

…

You wake up to something soft against your hand. You sat up quickly, your hair in a mess and your vision blurry. You quickly jump out of bed, reaching for your bedside table only to find none of your usual items there.

You grab the lamp as you see a lump move around under sheets. Your shoulders slump when you hear its purr.

Your mother rushes in with a kitchen knife in hand. She looks around the room, scanning for any danger. She drops her knife to the bedside table with a gasp. Ripping the sheets away and to the floor she scoops up the loth cat and coos at him. It looks at you curiously. You reach out to pet him but she backs away.

“You didn’t hurt him, did you?”, she asks as she glares.

You frown.

“You never know since you like to do those kinds of things.”

“What things?”, you ask in annoyance.

“Hurting people.”

She stands there scratching the cat behind his ears and staring at the floor, shifting her feet awkwardly as if you were going to do something. You stare at her as she retreats away from the room. You sigh deeply when the door closes and she calls from outside that breakfast is being served.

You shouldn’t have come home. You were initially homesick. To the point that you even started talking about your home world and how you missed it. Din only encouraged you to pop in for a visit especially since your father was asking about it so much recently. But the minute the front doors opened you could see the smile fade from your mother’s face.

She seemed almost repulsed to be in your presence.

The last time you were here they found out about your business relations. They found out the truth about what you did to provide.

As far as you're concerned your cousins don’t know what you do for a living. Your parents try to not make their disdain known in front of everyone else. You eat the porridge along with everyone else, acting as if your parents didn’t see you as a failure.

You bring out some keychains from planets you’ve “visited”. Most of your family thinks you're a pilot. A chauffeur in a way. That was the only way you justified being away for so long, along with traveling all the time.

Your cousins scramble to get the ones they wanted. You place one in front of your mother's plate and she frowns. She only sees the blood of those you killed. It was almost as if you could see the image in her head reflected in her eyes. Your father picks it up and thanks you with a tight-lipped smile.

You start to pack your things. Only packing the things that you knew would be further incriminating of your ‘violent tendencies’.

You knock on the wooden frame. Your parents startled. You wince.

“I'm heading out,” You point with your thumb towards the door. You adjust the strap on your shoulder

“Might take a few days.”

Your father frowns and your mother narrows her eyes. She stands and crosses her arms.

“What are you going to do now? Ransack a business?”

The rolling of your eyes prompts her further.

“Steal a speeder. Rob a bank. Threaten civilians. What are you going to do next?”

You scoff. “I have never done any of those things.”

“But you’ve murdered people. Who knows what else you could do.”

You start walking away. She starts getting louder. You open the door quickly and step onto the sidewalk. The moon shines brightly. You glance back as you walk away. They're staring at you from the window.

You walk faster.

…

He sent you the location a few hours ago. They needed to help some people off-world. They were wanted by the empire, and they needed a ride. You offered. He didn’t even have to tell you any more information than that.

“I'm doing this and I’m coming back right after. Deal?”

Kes chuckles and clasps his hand in yours. “Deal.”

Everything went too smoothly. In the back of your mind, you knew something was going to happen. You were a little worried because of it. You didn’t say anything though. You can see some of the kids mixed in between the group stressed enough. Apparently, they were ‘special’ kids. You didn’t ask what that meant.

You made it to a rebel base in the span of two days. Ketal was muggy, clouds of gray covered the skies. Kes told you it was normal for the time of year. It didn’t help your already somber mood.

“You should stay for a couple days. Rest.”

He eyed you worriedly. You didn’t look too good. Your eyes were red rimmed and the bags under your eyes didn’t help your case.

“Dameron! We need you over here.”

You both turn to a woman standing on top of the stairs to a tower. He grins and his eyes sparkle. You chuckle as he almost trips over himself. He pulls you with him and your smile fades.

She extends her hand out to you, you grasp it. Her grip is steady and strong, you reciprocate your interest piqued.

“Shara Bey. Thank you for transporting them. You saved a lot of families.”

You nod and purse your lips in a small smile.

You nod along to the conversation in the makeshift meeting room. The amount of supplies they need for the next shipment goes over your head. You only caught that people were starting to leave base. It was starting to be more dangerous staying in the inner rim. They needed to move as quickly as possible.

You offered your help. You did it without hesitation. Everyone in the control tower looked at you as if you were a strange animal. You lean against the wall and huff.

“We need all the help we can get.”

You look up to see a pair of glasses look up at you, he smiles at you reassuringly. Before the meeting started Kes and Shara mentioned he was in charge of intel and overriding imperial security systems. Everyone nodded and you mouthed a thanks. The meeting ends. Everyone leaves to the cafeteria to eat. You stay in the tower, watching as ships depart and arrive.

“You know you're getting deep into this, right?” Kes asks.

You nod.

“Yeah, I know.”

He smiles warmly and crosses his arms as if he were proud.

“Good. I’m glad. We could really use more people with your skill sets around.”

You smirk.

“Sure looks like it.”, you snorted.

He punches your shoulder and you both laugh.

…

You felt off the whole trip back to Alderaan. It felt as if you had an itch in the back of your brain. The minute you landed the ship you felt as if something was wrong. You were pretty sure the hangar wasn’t this empty at this hour, at least when you were here last. Maybe you were paranoid. The things you’ve seen recently weren’t reassuring. Then again Alderaan was starting to become too monitored, but you didn’t want to risk it.

You contemplated calling Mando. He’s too far to reach you anyway. You send a message to your father to have your things ready and near the entrance to the center to the city. That way, when you were going to pick it up, you wouldn’t lead anyone to your family.

You wait an hour inside the cockpit of the crest. You get a ping.

It’s there. Stay safe.

Your hood covers your face. You make sure you blend in with the crowds. The sun was setting, and the streets were visibly getting more vacant by the minute. You make a sharp turn to an alley. You didn’t even see her as you walked towards your bag.

“Don’t come back.”

You freeze. She didn’t care as you stared at her a few feet away. She didn’t care that you looked devastated. You should have seen it coming.

“You're putting our family in danger.”

In your bitterness you scowl and turn your back. You shuffle the things in your bags as if you were checking it.

“It's better if you don't contact us anymore.”

You didn’t fail to notice that all of your belongings were inside, including those you usually kept in the house even when you were gone. Your eyes were too blurry to properly check.

“Did you hear me?”

You stand upright and sling the bag over your shoulder.

“I won’t come back.”, you force out in a shout.

With one last look at her you leave the alley. That was the last time you saw her or anyone else for that matter. You wish you could have seen her in the eyes. Maybe then you would have seen the regret and heartbreak.

…

The ramp lowered but you didn’t come out. He waited for a few minutes, but you didn’t come out. He thinks back to the day you almost bled to death in his arms. He strode up the ramp, checking the bunk and then moving up the ladder towards the cockpit. You were sitting still in the pilot’s seat, staring into your hands.

He turns the seat and kneels in front of you. You barely reacted, only glancing in his direction as he placed his hands on top of yours. You always come back numb from your trips back home. This time he felt as if you were completely at a blank.

The shock of his cold helmet against your forehead made you come back to yourself. You tried so hard to control your face, but the way he whispered that he’s sorry made the lump in your throat broaden. Your face curled in sorrow. You started to curl into yourself, to make yourself small but he held you still. Instead, you clung to him, hiccupping as you felt as if you were choking on your own spit and tears and snot.

He carried you to his room, strategically avoiding areas where he knew everyone else were at. Your head lolled against his shoulder. In a way you felt like you were being babied but you didn’t really care, especially from the way he softly sat you on his mattress.

You were left to your own thoughts or the lack thereof as he left to make you some tea. He returns with a pot in one hand and a blindfold on the other. You thank him quietly as he pours you a cup and hands it to you.

You move to the floor, crossing your legs and sitting in front of him. His hands push your hair to the side, you note he doesn't have his gloves on anymore, and brings the blindfold to your eyes. He neatly ties the knot behind your head. You sip the tea and breathe in the steam. Your nose slightly clears.

You sit and drink in silence as you lean against his chest. Everything feels like routine, as if he was ready for this to happen. In a way he was, considering the other times you’ve returned tired and emotionally drained he did the same. This felt more intimate, more careful. You finish and sigh.

“You want to talk?”

“Family problems.” you mumble as you turn to face him. He nods as if he understood you completely. He’s never known, personally, what strifes you’ve had with your parents. He knows that you love your cousins, but your parents were a whole other deal. It’s complicated you say when he asks about them. You were always put off by the questions about your parents.

He thought you were being dramatic sometimes. When you said how you didn’t want to see them at all, how you wish you would have left sooner. It makes him sad. It made him think about his own parents, how he would never think of them that way if they were alive.

Then again, he didn’t know their faults, he only remembers the good days, the days worth remembering.

“What happened?”, he questions. You sigh. He can see your lips purse as you nervously adjust the blindfold over your eyes.

“I think my mom is scared of me.” He doesn’t say anything, you're pretty sure no one could give you reassurances on that. Maybe you weren’t overreacting when you spoke of the way you felt as if your mother hated you.

“She told me to leave, to keep everyone safe. I agree- I mean- I’m only going to attract danger to them. I wasn’t going to go back either way so it’s fine-”

He grabs your hand that was picking at the fabric wrapped around your eyes.

“Breathe.”

You didn’t notice your throat closing up or the way your heart was hammering against your chest. You didn’t even notice the blindfold dampening.

His hands find your waist and pull you towards him in a hug.

“I missed you.”, you whisper against his shoulder. Tears start to fall and your face crumbles once again. He holds you steady until you start to calm again. You wipe your nose with the sleeve of your tunic as tears stop running and groan. You didn’t like crying, not even in front of your loved ones. It made you feel weak. Embarrassed, you pat his chest and try to lighten the mood, “At least I still have you, Ruby.”

He pushes you lightly and you frown.

“What?-”

He kisses you. His lips attach to the side of your mouth. Your shocked still. His hands glide over your back as he presses himself against you. He pulls back.

“You'll always have me.”, he whispers ardently.

You stay completely still. He retracks and loosens his hold.

“I’m sorry- was that-”

You lean into him. Even if you can't see anything you close your eyes in bliss. You put every emotion into the way you press yourself against him. He guides you to lean back. His hands moving over your body smoothly, as if he were trying to memorize every twitch of your body, every curve and shape.

His lips trace over your face down your neck and over your arms. He leads a path to your palms. He lifts your hand to kiss each individual finger. You shiver from the way his lips barely skim over your skin. He backs away slowly and lifts you, sitting you in his bed delicately. Leaving tender kisses against your face and body he helps you out of your clothes. You help him out of his. Your hands pass over his armor and you carefully pry it off of his flight suit.

It clangs against the floor and you realize this was the first time he’s ever done this. He’s always told you how he doesn’t take his creed lightly. Intimacy was almost nonexistent with Mandalorians. Their armor and weapons were basically their second skin.

He pushes you to lay on the bed fully exposed and at his attention. You bite your lip to stifle your moan as you feel him move on top of you, faintly rubbing himself against your thigh.

His breath makes goosebumps rise over your body. You twitch as his tongue peeks between his lips and grazes over your nipple, leaving kitten licks and making them pebble. His other hand repeats the motions of his mouth. You squirm. The pitch black darkness makes your other senses amplified. You couldn’t define what you were feeling in exact words. It felt as if you were being coaxed out gently. As if you were being worshiped. There was too much meaning behind his touches, it left a scorching trail over your body wherever he touched.

His hand leaves your breast and takes your hand. He guides your shaking palm against his collarbone and he trails it down. He adjusts and straddles you. You sink further into his sheets as your fingertips move against the muscles of his abdomen. They tense and release in repetition.

You move past his waist and towards his cock which stands at attention. He squeezes your hand over himself. He leans in closer, the head nudging open your folds. His hips jerk up and bumps against your clit.

“You drive me crazy.”, he huffs.

You chuckle lightly and drag his hand over to your mound, pointedly pressing his palm against your nub. His palm gets soaked as he moves on his own, creating a squelching sound from the wet stickiness accumulating over your cunt. He’s seen holovids of rough touches and quick thrusts. He thought that was how sex was supposed to be like, quick and hard, full of screams of pleasure and rocking mattresses, but as he sinks himself into you slowly and you mewl softly to him he thinks that this was much better.

He rocks into you gently and you roll your hips in time. All the while his palm pulses against your nub. You've never felt anything like this. Your climax was building gradually as if the heat was bubbling inside of you. Instead of sharp peaks of pleasure you felt it simmering underneath your skin and slowly starting to build itself until you were over the edge.

You clench around him tightly, your muscles tightening causing you to gasp out loudly from the pressure. He tenses after you.

He pulls out and you wince. With half lidded eyes he watches as he floods towards his sheets. Your thighs shake from the aftershocks of your orgasm, he gently kneads them and spreads them apart. You start to get worried when his weight leaves the bed. You try to grab onto his arm, but you miss, waving into the air.

“Wait- where are you-”

You hear a door close and you sink into the mattress below you. He just left and now you were laying there alone, naked. You didn’t want to take the blindfold off in worry that he would come back. If he was going to come back, you thought bitterly.

You lay to the side and pull yourself into a ball. Your family doesn’t want you, why would he? Tears start to gather in your eyes and moisten the blindfold. In your deprecating thoughts you didn’t hear the faucet running or him coming out with a towel in hand. He touches your shoulder to grab your attention.

You turn, slightly spooked and sniffle. His hands cup your face quickly. He checks all over your body. “Did I hurt you?!”

You sniffle more. “W-what?”

He wipes the tears that escaped under the fabric covering your eyes.

“Did I hurt you? Why are you crying?”

“You left.”

He pauses. His initial reaction was to tease you, but the way your voice shook stopped him. Instead, he kneeled in front of you and spread your legs open tenderly, wiping you. You hiss when he nudges your most sensitive areas with the towel.

“Sorry.”, he apologies softly. He throws the towel to the ground and encapsulates your body with his. Pulling his arm under your head you whisper back to him.

“It’s okay.”

…

You slump against the window, counting the minutes that tick by as you get closer to Jatir. You sigh as you feel a headache start from the center of your forehead. You were filled with anxiety. You should have known you would have crossed paths with him. You're in the same business, it would have happened eventually.

You’ve been slacking ever since you’ve heard he’s been occupied with the Empire recently. There were less chances of seeing him on the job. You frankly were bitter enough to not care for the reason he was being chased down. But, deep down, you knew you were worried and that annoyed you, especially since the rumor was that he had a child now, which was the target of leftover imperials. You never asked for the gossip, it came to you. It wasn’t your fault people were loud.

The speakers click and announce that passengers should start unloading to depart. Luckily enough you didn’t bring much. You never do. You have been moving from place to place, there was no time to gather your belongings so you didn’t have any. You had no home to store things in anyways, no family either. You had no one, it's been that way for a while.

You take a deep breath in. You were reminded of why you hated Jatir so much. It always smelled of raw sewage and grease. You were basically a frequentist here but you never get used to the initial waft of stench that hits quick enough as you walk down the ramp.

The building you were headed to stands tall above all the others. You keep your head down as you bump and shove through crowds of laborers heading to factories in the opposite direction of where you were walking. You pity them, but they probably pity you too. Day in and out walking a few blocks to work in factories that barely gave them enough to survive. You thought the problem was maintained by the Empire but even after they’ve been deinstitutionalized you noticed that people in power have always been cruel. They didn’t need an evil regime to give their workers the bare minimum.

You reach the glass doors to the building in front of you and sigh. One thing you knew, you still knew about Mando was that he was good at his job. It was as if he was made for the hunt. You should have known better.

You're still as beautiful as the day he met you. Your eyes meet his own and he sees the same hatred from the last time you’ve seen each other. This time it was behind eyes full of contempt. His own rage builds up inside of him, but he feels sadness overtake everything else.

You stride inside the building before he could utter a word.

…

You expected to see him outside when you finished your transaction. You just didn’t expect to feel a prick in the back of your neck, or feel arms wrap around you as you started to get disoriented. You especially didn’t expect to wake up in a bed, covered in a thin blanket.

You sit up quickly, and the room spins momentarily, your guess from the drugs. Awkwardly shoving the blanket away, you pat your legs and body finding that you were stripped of your weapons. You groan as you realize who could have taken you, since the small razor you keep in between strands of your hair is gone. You’ve only had one person know where you kept all of your knives in.

“I thought you were dead.”, he says calmly.

You only stare as he sits on the farthest corner away from you, next to a table with all of your belongings.

“You were dead to me, I might as well have been to you.”, you say back.

“That’s not fair-”

“Life’s not fair.”

He moves his hands towards his helmet and pulls it up. You stare in shock as he uncovers his entire face in mere seconds. You catch a glimpse of brown with hints of gray hairs along his hooked nose and scars you knew he didn’t have before. You quickly try to cover your eyes.

“Kriff Mando, what are you doing?”

He chuckles dryly. “It’s not like you haven’t seen my face before. My creed has been broken a long time ago.” He stands and walks in front of you, pulling your hands away from your eyes.

He kneels so that his face is level to yours. You can see that his eyes were starting to water. Your vision is starting to blur and you bite your tongue as you struggle to keep the lump in your throat from suffocating you. You couldn’t stand looking at him. He had the same expression he had when you last saw him. Agony.

He sounded bitter and you almost flinched from his words.

“Don’t you remember?”

Cause I belong in here, I said it. I'll never forget it.

I'll admit it. You want to talk, I'm hanging up.

I missed you, I messed up.

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #the mandolorian x reader

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so-sures-blog · 2 years ago

Text

Sound the Alarm

Emma just wants to get some sleep, keep her little sister in check, and earn her law degree. Relationships are the last thing on her mind.

Her four mental goals are suddenly cut down to one once she meets her crazy next door neighbors.

And it starts by setting off the fire alarm.

(AKA: The Nemma Neighbor AU that no one asked for

This ship doesn’t get enough appreciation ToT)

Based off fic 2 am by shmulia

It was two am, and Emma is going to murder the person who set off the fire alarm.

She rips the sheets off her body and opens the door viciously. If this was Kitty trying to cook anything but ramen, then Emma is going to kick her out of the apartment and throw away her key.

Emma slit her eyes, looking at the spotless kitchen that was free of her sister, and turns to see Kitty stumble out of her room, more tired than pissed off.

It had been a long day for Emma; being a law student was a full-time job, with that on top of her other job— keeping her little sister in check. She had an essay that she spent hours writing on, and when it was finally over she had to finish the chores Kitty had clearly neglected before she had wanted to pass out.

And now some idiot had set off the fire alarm.

Emma is going to kill them.

Involuntary actions are free of ill will, Emma reminds herself as she stomps towards the door. Kitty crashes on the couch, trusting her sister to give the guilty resident a piece of her mind.

Emma grabs the doorknob and yanks it open, the door flying open and slamming against the wall with a nasty bang. Emma is too furious to care — the damage would be morning-Emma’s problem.

Then she stops. Stares. And stares some more, because she is tired and is pretty sure this was a hallucination.

He is gorgeous. A couple inches taller than her, lean with brown skin and chocolate eyes that seemed extremely wide the moment she opened the door. His fist is raised, like he was going to knock on the door before she whipped it open.

Maybe she hadn't been that bad in a past life, Emma thinks as she takes in the guy in front of her, because God was clearly apologising for the fire alarm. Really, how often did good-looking guys turn up on her doorstep?

Not since her ex-boyfriend Jake, and Emma refuses to give him an ounce of thought this early in the morning and in the face of a guy easily more attractive than him.

The two stare at each other and Emma waits for the guy to speak.

"Oh. Um. Hey— hi! I’m Noah. I live next door.” He awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “I don't know if you heard the fire alarm go off just now— " he starts, before Emma cuts him off.

"Oh, I heard alright," she narrows her eyes. If Noah reveals that he was the one who set the alarm off, hotness be damned Emma would make sure his death was swift and painful.

Noah gulps nervously.

"Ah, okay. My roommate is kind of responsible for that, and he sent me over to apologise. So. Yeah. Sorry about that."

Emma folds her arms across her chest. "And he didn't come over to apologise because … ?"

Noah raises his hands defensively. "He's just clearing the air in our apartment. He said he'll come out in a minute, but wanted someone to apologise right away — and then he shoved me out of the door before I was even awake!”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up. “No way. You slept through that alarm?”

Noah shrugs, a small smirk working its way up on his lips. “I could sleep through the apocalypse if I wanted to.”

Emma laughs, and finds herself surprised how genuine it was. She leans against the doorway and notices Noah’s eyes flicking down her body before looking away, his cheeks reddening.

She realizes she is in her pajamas, consisting of her extremely short shorts and her orange oversized sweatshirt that says The Best Lawyer Sister that Kitty gave her. Emma is unable to stop the small grin growing on her face, and he coughs.

Noah cleared his throat in a desperate attempt to distract them both. "Anyway ... Sorry about the fire alarm," he says.

Emma nods and represses a yawn. "It's fine," she says. She rubs her eyes as a wave of exhaustion passes over her, washing away her anger and replacing it with the desire to sleep. "Just try not to do it again, okay?"

Noah nods. "Sure, no prob— " his reply is cut short by the opening of an apartment door. A big blonde boy emerges from the slightly smoky doorway and his eyes light up when he spots Noah. He bounded across the hallway, coming to a stop next to Noah. He must be the roommate, Emma assumes.

She is a bit surprised, to be honest — the two were quite the contrasting pair to look at, and it wasn’t just physically-wise. The blonde was literally bouncing on his feet and looking incredibly awake while Noah stood still, looking bored and tired.

Emma stifles another laugh — it is exactly the same expression she wears when Kitty was being too exuberant.

"Hi! You must be Emma! We're your neighbours!" the blonde says happily, gesturing between Noah and himself. “I’m Owen, and this is my little buddy, Noah!”

Another contrast. If Noah was like outer space: deep, dark, and endless; then Owen was like the sun — bright, light (metaphorically speaking), and a big ball of energy. Emma wasn't really sure how to deal with someone this energetic at two in the morning.

"Er, hi," she says. She frowns slightly as a thought occurs to her. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

"We know Kitty," Owen says. “She’s your little sister, right?”

Emma blinks in surprise. “Yeah, but— how do you know her?" Emma racks her brain to remember if Kitty had ever mentioned the two guys standing opposite her.

"We're in the same photography class," Owen smiles, and a glimmer of remembrance filters through Emma’s memory of Kitty mentioning a boy in her class who was ridiculously nice. Emma could see where she was coming from.

She turns to Noah and he answers her unspoken question. “She’s just a friend of a friend to me. I can only deal with one extrovert at a time.” He rolls his eyes and Emma can’t help but giggle. Oh, she can definitely relate.

Noah’s eyes glint with satisfaction when he hears her laugh and his gaze flicks to something behind her. "Speak of the devil," he says dryly, and Emma turns around to see her little sister walking towards them, rubbing her eyes.

"Did I hear that right? You guys set off the fire alarm?"

Owen beams, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "I was just cooking a late night snack because I missed dinner, and as I was cooking, I realised I hadn't called my Izzy all day! So I thought, hey, the food will take a while, so I'll just call her now! And Izzy’s phone calls usually last hours, and I guess I forgot that I was cooking until the whole kitchen was on fire!”

Noah nudges Owen, somehow still looking deadpan while Kitty and Emma are enraptured by the story. “Go ahead and tell them the worst part, Big Guy.”

Owen's face twists, his mouth turning downward as his eyes turn watery. "And … I … burned the food! It’s gone! Ruined! Never to be eaten again …” Owen sinks to the floor and covers his face, sobbing quietly.

The sisters stare at the cheerful blonde on his knees, not sure how to comfort him. Emma stares at Noah. This guy has just sent the most enthusiastic person Emma has ever met to tears in a few words, and he still looks unfazed as Kitty begins patting Owen’s shoulder sympathetically.

Clearly, he has a vicious streak when his sleep is interrupted.

The lack of sleep must be messing with her mind, because Emma finds that extremely attractive.

"Anyway, we’re sorry the alarm took so long to turn off," Noah tears his eyes away from the scene. "There was a lot of smoke, and we had to fan the air out of the window to try and clear it."

Emma shrugs, holding Noah’s dark gaze. "Like I said — don’t do it again, and we’re all good.”

For some reason, Noah seems to cringe. “Yeah … Well, I think I should warn you ahead of time, but Owen’s girlfriend, Izzy, is kind of …” he taps his finger against his lip thoughtfully, and Emma can’t even tell if the action is sarcastic or if he’s genuinely looking for the right word. “ … eccentric. Like, psycho-hose beast eccentric. We got kicked out of our last apartment we shared with her because of noise complaints, arson, and fire alarms at ungodly hours of the night.”

Emma stares at him, hoping that she conveys the sheer amount of disbelief in her gaze. “Tell me you’re being sarcastic.” She says — no, more like demands.

Noah looks back, deadpan, but Emma can tell that he is genuinely sorry. She groans, banging her head on the doorway. God, if every other night was going to be like this, Emma might actually murder someone.

Noah watches her with something not quite bemusement, but something else entirely. “Don’t worry, I keep her in line.”

Emma looks up from her head-banging, and he continues, flushing a little. “I make sure to watch out for Izzy and keep her from going too crazy. Need to make sure the best lawyer gets her beauty sleep.”

Emma ignores the way her heart jumps; that last part was definitely sarcasm, even though it didn’t feel like it. For some reason, Kitty and Owen have stopped whatever they were doing and are staring at Noah like they can’t believe their eyes.

Kitty’s gaze in particular flick towards Emma, and she scrupulously avoids her eyes. Her sister knew her like the back of her hand, and Emma didn’t want Kitty to think … certain things.

Emma is about to respond to Noah, but tiredness suddenly overwhelms her. She attempts to suppress a yawn, but couldn't quite prevent a sigh coming out. She presses her head against the doorframe, blinking rapidly to try and stay awake.

She doesn’t realise that Noah is still watching her until his voice pulls her away from the slight daze she finds herself in.

"C’mon, Big Guy, it's time for bed. " The smaller boy nudges him with his elbow and nods towards Emma,whose dependency on the doorframe is becoming more obvious by the second.

"Oh, right. Sorry for keeping you two up!" Owen said earnestly. "Is there any way we can make it up to you?"

Emma is about to request "let me go to bed" as her response, but Kitty gets there first.

"Why don’t we hang out?"

Emma straightens up immediately, glancing at Kitty in surprise and warning. She knew she was busy, but Kitty’s eyes flick pointedly to Noah, then back at Emma. She winks slyly.

The little brat was setting her up!

A blush formed on Noah and Emma’s cheeks, and Owen’s face split into a grin. "That would be awesome! We can go out to eat and hang out — all four of us!"

Kitty crosses her arms, smiling. "You owe us dinner for waking us up at two in the morning for your dinner. I love a free meal, and Emma needs to get out more."

"Hey!"

"Am I wrong, Miss I’m-married-to-my-law-degree-book?"

" … No."

"Exactly. So, you guys game?" Kitty asks.

Noah’s eyes met Emma’s, and his cheeks reddened further. "Dinner... would be nice," he says, breaking eye contact with her. Owen nodded enthusiastically, grin unwavering.

"Awesome. We'll figure out the details tomorrow. I think Emma’s gonna pass out if she doesn't get in bed asap." Kitty says, pulling her sister out of the doorway and into the room. "See you guys round!"

She shuts the door as the boys say goodbye, and immediately turns around to give Emma the widest smile she’s ever seen.

"So ... you and Noah, huh?" she asks, smirking at the usually unflustered girl.

"Goodnight, Kitty," Emma says, waving as she turns her back on her sister and walks towards her room.

"You're welcome!” Kitty calls to her retreating back. “And you owe me one!”

"For what?" Emma asks, confused.

Kitty winks. "Trust me when I say that you and Noah are going to get on reeeeally well," the younger girl says, before shutting her door.

Emma shakes her head and goes into her room to curl up in her bed. As she tucks the duvet around herself, Emma realizes that the smile she wore around Noah hadn’t faded in the slightest as she fell into blissful unconsciousness.

#total drama #total drama fanfic #total drama au #the ridonculous race #td noah #td emma #td owen #td kitty #td nemma

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tarosin · 4 years ago

Text

The great adventures of y/n, Tommy, Jack and Tubbo

Requested:yes/no

Pairing: Platonic jack/tommy/tubbo/reader

Summary: another day another adventure

Content warning: cursing / I didn't proof read

An: reader has bright unnatural hair I wrote a lot, I can't figure out how to add read more on mobile I'm sorry

The music you were currently listening to was interrupted by the discord group notifying you that you have a new message.

Tommy: Y/N HOW BUSY ARE YOU TUBBO HAS COME TO VISIT AND JACK IS HERE

y/n: I mean I've currently got hair dye on but it’s being washed off and dried in around 20 minutes, why?

y/n: WAIT TUBBO?!?!

tubbo: oh yeah I forgot to tell you

y/n: how did you forget you know what nevermind, I’m glad you’re here :]

jack: we should be here in an hour so you have plenty of time to get ready

tubbo: what colour dye y/n

y/n: you’ll see soon enough as apparently, you’re all showing up at my house

Tommy: I suggest you wear comfortable shoes

y/n: I am terrified

Tommy: you have nothing to fear... for now

•••

luckily it had only taken you just over 40 minutes to get ready giving you roughly 20 minutes to prepare for the adventure ahead. or so you thought, as soon as you sat down ready to check your phone the sound of Tommy and tubbo laughing could be heard from your room, jack sent a message “hey we got here extremely early I’m sorry there’s no rush the others have been distracted by dreams music :)”

grabbing a backpack from next to your bed you had quickly chucked your phone and purse into the bag unsure as to what you’re going to need today.

•••

as soon as you opened the door you were met with an ecstatic tubbo who instantly pulled you into a hug unable to contain their excitement of seeing their friend

“I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN AGES YOUVE CHANGED SO MUCH LOOK AT YOUR HAIR”

“I look exactly the same”

“Now I’m no genius y/n but last time we spoke you didn’t have unnatural hair”

you paused for a moment as tubbo had a point the last time you and tubbo were on face time your hair was classed as a natural colour however today as a fuck you to your school which didn’t allow unnatural hair you decided to dye it your favourite colour.

“you raise a fair point now if you don’t mind releasing me from your grasp I have to lock the door so no one gets in”

•••

“Tommy unlock the door let tubbo and y/n in”

“Y/N YOU'RE HERE- HOLY SHIT YOUR HAIR! JACK ARE YOU SEEING THIS”

“Hello to you too Tommy”

“well if we weren’t going to get noticed at the shopping centre earlier y/ns bright fucking hair will definitely cause people to notice us”

“oh I’m sorry I didn’t expect to be going shopping with a bunch of Minecraft streamers today”

“don’t you stream Minecraft?”

“This isn’t about me jack”

the trip to the shops was surprisingly relaxing y/n sat at the front listening to jack sing along to songs playing on the radio, however, it was clear the boys had something they weren’t telling y/n which became evident through Tommy and tubbo bickering in the back of the car about who was going to tell them. it was a relatively short journey due to the fact you lived close to the city centre

•••

“let’s go shopping boys” Tommy practically yelled to everyone, tubbo held his phone in your direction then looked towards you, nodding at him you grabbed his phone and began recording

“I'm vlogging”

Tommy walked over “YEAHHHHH”

walking past cex you had to put up with Tommy making sex jokes until you made it to game, you stood holding back your laugh as you filmed Tommy and tubbo fighting about who’s paying whilst jack went off to buy a Minecraft squishy and mug despite everyone’s arguments against it. soon enough fans came over asking for photos with you all once the group of fans left jack took over recording for tubbo whilst you went off to quickly buy some games that you could play on stream.

•••

“want a wig bro? jack!”

the four of you walked into the shop, you couldn’t help but stand in awe looking at all the bright colours already questioning what colour to dye your hair next the sound of Tommy and jack being amazed pulled you out of your thoughts

“Gogy goggles, I’m actually buying them”

“i wan’t a pair”

“no, you’re getting a wig jack”

“I don’t want a wig I want George”

“y/n has bright hair and they’re not complaining”

“what do you have against people with colourful hair jack hmm?”

•••

“I'm not happy”

“you look lovely jack”

“we’re getting so many looks”

tubbo stopped everyone to ‘fix’ jacks wig which resulted in everyone laughing once you had finally stopped laughing you noticed tubbo had walked off and you were convinced jack had randomly decided to record strangers until you saw tubbo going up and down escalators

“oh there he goes again”

“pov you’re thinking about bees”

“where to next boys?”

Tommy pointed towards the lift

“Is this a lift for us”

Tommy noticed the safety sign and automatically made comments about it

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if I wasn’t carrying a knife”

“oh same Tommy”

“look you can see me”

taking that as an invitation to join the vlog you stood behind tubbo and pointed at the sign again and looked at Tommy and jack

“keeping us all safe is what I would say if we weren’t about to do this-“

the three of you went to jump up and down

“NO”

the four of you quietly left the lift however you were convinced that the public heard Tommy comment on having a knife and you threatening to jump as once the lift opened everyone was staring at you but it could also be due to the fact you had brightly coloured hair and somehow convinced jack to keep the wig on, you all spent a long time trying to convince Tommy to get a new outfit, eventually you went into another shop a certain keyboard caught your eye

“I’ve found my home, ill stay here at the gamer bunker”

you decided now was the perfect time to sneak off to buy the keyboard that had caught your eye, once tubbo noticed it was too late you stood holding the bag with your purchase leaving you stood in the middle of the shop defending your purchase to him claiming that it was a business expense and not just because you thought it looked cool.

“you told me you wanted to save your money”

“it lights up tubbo and it fits the vibe of my room”

Tommy placed his arm on your head treating you as an armrest as you were shorter than him and he knew it annoyed you

“they have a point tubbo it lights up”

once the recording ended you made your way back to the car

“say y/n you wouldn’t mind if me Tommy and jack stayed the night as tomorrow we were thinking-“

“sure thing”

“YESSSSSS”

•••

the next day you were woken up at 9 am by Tommy stood at the foot of your bed

“hi y/n”

“WHAT THE FUCK- oh hi Tommy Jesus christ do you know how horrifying that was to wake up to”

“Sorry bout that but if I didn’t wake you up now you’d only wake up in the afternoon and we need to go soon I’ll leave you to get ready”

you noticed a note was next to a jumper on the floor ‘hi, thanks for letting us stay the night I really liked your hoodie so I decided to wear it today here’s mine in exchange- Tubbo :D’

normally you’d be concerned that someone stole your hoodie as you live with your parents however today was an exception once you were all ready you set off jack pulled into a McDonald's drive-through so you could all get breakfast

“nice hoodie y/n”

“Thanks, someone took mine and decided to make a trade”

“you’re welcome”

the journey was quiet again you sat next to tubbo in the back Tommy sat at the front screaming at jack and trying to distract him and people around you decided to took a picture with tubbo who now had his arm wrapped around you as it was rather cold in the car and posted it to Twitter ‘@ ranboosaysstuff wish you were here :D’ less than a minute later you received 2 notifications ‘ranboosaysstuff replied to your tweet: same’ ‘ ranboosaysstuff has tweeted: *the spongebob gif*’

•••

soon enough you all arrived at mint golf to say you we’re excited would be an understatement

“can I get the shortest club you have”

you stood hiding your face in the jumper tubbo left you whilst you laughed a few minutes later you received a call from ranboo the others said they’d sort everything for you whilst you answered

“what’s up tall one”

“stay safe okay”

“ranboo it’s mini-golf I’m not fighting criminals”

“yes but I know how clumsy you are”

“first of all rude second of all fuck you third of all jealousy isn’t a good look on you” you managed to say through laughter

“jokes aside please come to the UK boo”

“oh sure I’ll go book a plane ticket now” *ranboo ended the call*

ranboo made jokes like that before however this time sounded a lot more serious and you had no idea why he called you so you made a mental note to call him again later. once with friends again you were met with Tommy telling the worker all about you all

“yeah we’re big on the influencing”

“What on earth did I walk in on”

“no time to explain let’s go golf”

you were handed a club and a ball and were dragged away by jack

•••

tubbo joked about getting a hole on one as soon as it was his go, you bet £10 with jack he wouldn't

“hand over the money y/n”

you looked at Tommy who was now recording you handing jack the money “so today we have learnt to not underestimate your friends and that gambling is bad. you lose your money to a tall bald guy”

to put it politely you and Tommy found out that mini golf is not your calling in life

“ill stick to streaming“

“you’re both losing by the way”

“yeah well- why and how does tubbo have soup”

tubbo stood cradling the soup as though it was a child

“Some things I can’t explain to you”

you stood tilting your head to the side questioning where the hell he got soup from

“eh”

“soups like a small child I take care of it as if it was my own”

you couldn’t contain your laughter at this point the confused faces of your friends alongside tubbos happiness of soup sent you over the edge so you decided to just sit down before you fall as your knees were already weak from laughing too much

“where did you get the soup from”

“I manifested it”

•••

after a few solid minutes of arguing over soup you and Tommy dropping the phone you all continued with bowling.

“tubbo get out of the way of my dream ball”

you stood recording jack cheering him on tubbo had different plans and kicked the ball away resulting in jack giving up and copying what you had been doing most of the rounds, after missing the hole 3 times each go, picking up the ball and placing it in the hole however again he missed

“you can’t be serious”

“golf isn’t for everyone big man”

Tommy took the phone from you to record “pov you’re me golfing”

•••

“how do we get across there”

“probably the bridge”

Tommy pulled to rope moving the bridge across the gap

“Why thank you, Tommy, wouldn’t have been able to do it without you”

you laughed

“you're extremely welcome y/n it was extremely easy because I’m a big muscly man”

golf was finally going well till you hit the ball a bit too hard causing it to go over the fence tubbo was able to get the ball back

“I’ve been watching a lot of doctor shows” you stood amazed at how far you made the ball go

“see the issue is its mini golf. if this was regular golf I'd have got a hole in one I'm telling you”

•••

“I'm never being in your vlog again”

jack looked at you and tubbo who was now laughing at you pretending to worship the can of soup in the hole

“Tommy please come back”

the rest of the game was chaos, you kept missing the hole then claiming to rage quit golf tubbo and Tommy kept making jokes jack left his drink somewhere then had to go back and find it, no one had been paying attention to you which allowed you to take the score sheet and make it so you had won the game eventually he game was over you had declared yourself the champion of golf despite the fact everyone was better than you including Tommy

•••

the journey back was chaos you called ranboo who claimed he only called you to plan a video/stream with you however it was clear that wasn’t the reason tubbo whispered to you so no one could hear

“I think he wants to be here with us I think he’s jealous”

you laughed and nodded

“of course”

eventually, you all made it back to yours, ranboo said goodbye to everyone then ended the call now it was time for you to say your goodbyes. since your love language was physical touch you hugged everyone. As you walked into your house Tommy yelled “Y/N HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT PLANES”

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