#my only excuse/reason for it existing is that it was a really weird time in my life man
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artifex-rambles · 23 days ago
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I remember on my old sideblog I mentioned some really evilbad morally dubious Artemis Fowl au and I mean if you wanna hear about it that's cool with me but just be warned it takes several elements from uh...a certain Nabokov book
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windydrawallday · 10 months ago
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I'd absolutely love to see your take on ES Optimus in any sort of capacity! He's my special guy :] But if you want something more familiar, maybe TFA Prowl chillin in some nature? If I could throw something more specific at you, interacting with some wolves? (Not sure how comfortable you are with animals but figured it's worth a shot 🐺)
AT LAST!!! I managed to draw your request after busy days and playing around with your last idea because GOSH: Prowl + Animals always win me over x'D
Tho... I took a... not very "chill" route that ended... in me drawing another thing that I know many despite about the canon of the character--
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Yeah IM SO SORRY but I couldn't find a way to make it work without it orz (and I dont have currently the brain to design an alternative human design hxgcxhgvcgv) and welp :')
Hope is nice enough to the eyes anyways haha I wanted to try something different and challenge myself because-- Because AAA
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snekdood · 4 months ago
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idk what non-beef eater needs to hear this but bread co/panera has changed their chilli to a different one that has beef in it... for god knows what fucking reason.
#just kinda enabling the nose dive for themselves.#first it was the muffins and napa almond salad that are literally the only reason my gma goes. then they gave us shitty bread for the#sandwiches. and now this. like. why are you actively making your shit worse and more commercialized.#the whole appeal is that you were different than other fast food places panera. how disappointing.#and dont pretend it has something to do w appealing to your older consumer base bc clearly it doesnt since you already got rid of the other#shit my gma eats bc she cant chew hard stuff. but also bc i gave her the chilli once i realized it tasted weird and she said it was spicy#so no. not a change for older people. just to make their shit more boring and normie and commercialized.#bc ig people will die if they dont have their beef idk. honestly if thats how you feel- that you need beef so so bad or else-#maybe you should die lmao. your desire for beef means jack shit when farming beef is a huge contributor to destroying our planet#idc what your excuse is. i also really deeply dont care if you say you neeeeeeeed it bc you're otherkin. eat other fucking meats bitch.#i promise no predatory animal is eating beef all the time. most of their kills are small.#also- if you're a predatory animal like a lion or whatever- you should be eating wildebeast. not cows. bc wild cows dont exist anymore#unfortunately. bc humans suck and only care about themselves. idk what to tell ya.#not very wild animal of you to be eating pre packaged slaughter house domesticated cow beef dawrg#bread co#panera#cutting red meat
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prokopetz · 2 years ago
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I think a lot of the skepticism and derision toward the idea of "gifted kid burnout" stems from the fact that a lot of folks have no idea what the gifted track in most high schools actually looks like; they've got this mental image, possibly informed by popular media depictions, of "gifted kids" as a privileged group of students who get to go on extra field trips, monopolise the teachers' attention in class, and constantly be told how special they are, but who are otherwise treated identically to all the other kids.
In practice, the gifted track in most high schools – most North American high schools, at any rate – has the same problem as any other educational program: the need to adhere to published metrics. These programs exist for the benefit of students only insofar as those benefits can empirically be measured, which leads to several common outcomes:
Students on the gifted track being afforded fewer choices regarding elective classes – often to the extent of having no choices at all – in order to stream the highest-performing students into the subjects that are most valuable in terms of boosting institutional metrics.
Students on the gifted tracking receiving restricted access to educational resources such as tutoring because it's perceived as a waste of funding. In many cases, gifted students are not only denied access to tutoring, but expected to serve as volunteer tutors and teaching assistants themselves, effectively becoming a source of unpaid educational labour for the schools they attend.
Students on the gifted track being assigned considerably more homework, often literally doubling their workload in an environment where homework loads are already routinely high enough that kids have difficulty finding time to eat and sleep, simply because you get more measurable academic performance data that way.
The upshot is that the gifted track is often less about fun perks and constant praise, and more about receiving less freedom, fewer resources, and heavier workloads than one's peers, getting strong-armed into providing unpaid labour to the school on top of it, and constantly being told one should be grateful for it – and that's without touching on the fact that the unspoken secondary purpose of many gifted programs is to serve as a quarantine for all the neurodivergent kids the school couldn't find an excuse to institutionalise or expel.
Like, shit, there's a reason kids on the gifted track exhibit elevated rates of alcoholism and substance abuse compared to general student populations. That doesn't arise in a vacuum!
(To be clear, I'm not saying that people graduating from high school and immediately having an existential crisis upon realising they're not special after all isn't a thing that happens, but in my experience that's more usually something that happens to the kids who were on the football team, and reframing it as a nerd culture thing is really weird.)
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0cta9on · 1 month ago
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Today
Length: 1.3k
Genre: Fluff
IVE Liz x Male Reader
(Author's Note: Motivation is hard to come by these days, I hope you can forgive my lack of frequent updates. For the sake of my mental health, please imagine that Liz's eyes are the slightest bit of gray, I swear they look gray but they could easily by colored contacts :> Enjoy <3)
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【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
It’s a Tuesday evening. Tuesdays always seemed like an awkward time of the week—way better than Mondays obviously, but still too far away from the weekend for any real excitement to build. The trees outside sway with the oncoming breeze, flecks of autumnal browns and golds dancing against the current before gently landing on the ground. The spontaneity of their movements reminds you of a certain someone that’s running a couple minutes late.
You take another sip of your coffee, warming and pleasant, as your gaze stays glued to the windowpane of the cafe, scanning each passing visage for a semblance of familiarity. You never had this habit before knowing her. In a past life, you kept your head down, too sheepish to look most people in the eye. Yet now, you're actively searching for the eyes of strangers, waiting until you see that glimpse of gray like the sky before a storm.
It’s a little creepy, you admit, but a billion weird glances are worth it for that split second where your eyes meet and you feel light as a feather, like the autumn breeze could carry you away with the leaves.
Across the street, the crowd splits like curtains at the start of the play to reveal the star of the show—Liz, weaving through the crowd and wearing that same apologetic look that’s become an unofficial symbol for the start of your meetings.
“I’m so sorry for being late!” she says, her voice ringing alongside the jingle of the cafe’s door.
“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “I haven’t been waiting long.”
“Still,” she removes her scarf and drapes it against her chair, the same cyan checkered scarf you bought her last year after she lost her old one, “This is, like, the millionth time I’ve been late, I feel awful about it!”
Liz rests her head against the table in defeat and you fight every urge to pat her head and comfort her.
“It’s really okay, I swear. I don’t mind waiting a little longer for you,” you say.
A smile dances across her lips, and suddenly you’re floating. “You’re so sweet, you know that?”
Your heart pounds against the confines of your rib cage like a lovesick prisoner begging to be set free. You’ve always wondered how someone like her can exist on this planet. Someone so charming, so beautiful, so perfect in every way that her only flaw is her lack of time management. Irises like raging storm clouds, paired with the personality of a calm evening in the shade. The angle of her smile, the dimples that adorn her cheeks, the luscious waves of her hair—
“Hello?” Liz waves a hand in front of your face, bringing you back down to Earth. “Are you alright?”
“Y-yeah, yeah, sorry, I just, um… Anyways…” Timidly, you rummage through your backpack for the reason why you invited her here in the first place, taking a little extra time to calm your nerves. “H-here,” you mutter, producing a fairly hefty box from your bag.
“Ooooooh!” Her eyes excitedly glean over its matte finish. “Are these the noise-canceling headphones you were talking about yesterday?”
“Yeah, I was wondering if you could help me test them out,” you explain.
“Of course!” With an eager grin, Liz takes out the headphones and places them on her head. “Ready when you are!” she exclaims, flashing you a thumbs up.
Liz has this super power of somehow making even the most mundane tasks feel like you’re having the time of your life. As you fiddle with the bluetooth settings on your phone, you forget that it’s just another Tuesday, you forget about the countless pairs of eyes you scanned through earlier just to find hers, you forgot about the fact that you don’t actually need these headphones and only bought them as an excuse to spend time with her.
“There we go,” you say as you press play on a song. Almost immediately, Liz starts to shimmy her arms in a goofy looking dance as she mumbles along to the lyrics. You don’t even try to hide the smirk on your face. “Can you hear me?”
“Huh?” she utters a little too loud.
Chuckling, you decide to see if the headphones are as good as advertised. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Uh, my mother is at home right now, probably watching a show or something.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“Earl grey? I don’t know, I’m not much of a tea drinker.”
You keel over with laughter from her nonsensical answers while she continues to dance on like no one is watching.
Then, an inkling of an idea slips into your mind. The smile on your face fades as that idea begins to form into something new—an opportunity. What was once glee is now replaced with an anxious excitement. Your heartbeat overpowers all the background noise and all you can focus on is the gray highlighting her eyes.
The calm before the storm.
“Liz, I…” you start, voice shaky and laced with apprehension. It’s not too late to turn back and forget about this. And yet, Liz’s lack of a reaction to your change in tone calms your nerves the slightest amount. You take a deep breath and continue going.
“…I, uh, need to tell you something important. It’s been on my mind for a long while. Like, a year at this point, and, uh…”
A choppy sigh empties from your lungs. There’s no going back after this. As the last bit of oxygen brushes past your lips, you take in another mouthful of air and clamp your eyes shut.
“I like you, Liz. As more than a friend. I really, really like you.”
As soon as those words leave your mouth, you collapse face first into the table like a rickety bridge finally crumbling underneath its own weight. You did it. Sure, she didn’t hear a thing, but you finally vocalized what you’ve been keeping inside and that’s good enough for you. Maybe one day, you’ll finally build up the courage to say it when she can actually hear you. Maybe.
The sound of plastic hitting the table jolts you back up. “Oh right, how was it?” you ask, unable to meet her eyes.
“They, uh… good,” she mutters, uncharacteristically quiet. “I-I mean, they work good.”
“G-good. That’s good.” You grab the headphones from the table and put them back into their box, making sure to unpair them from your—
Your eyes grow wide as you double and triple check your phone screen. The headphones are already unpaired.
Your mind starts to race with a million questions, but only one echoes in your head—How long were they unpaired?
You shoot your gaze back up to Liz, her once milky white cheeks now stained with a bright pink hue. Your mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out. It’s too late. You know what that reaction means. And you know what’s gonna come next.
“I-I should go,” you stutter, clumsily throwing your belongings into your backpack. How could you have been so reckless? Why didn’t you double check before attempting something as idiotic as this? You’ll have to move cities now, fake your death, create a new life on an undocumented island in the middle of the Pacific—
“I like you too.”
Her voice sounds so sweet and harmonious, you wonder if all the adrenaline pumping through your system is giving you auditory hallucinations. You’ve imagined similar scenarios to these countless times before, but to hear her actually speak those words and mean them is a whole different experience.
The tidal wave of emotions washing over you renders you completely catatonic. So you sit. You let the feelings stew. You let the smile creep onto your face until your cheeks begin to ache. You let your eyes take nervous yet excited glances towards the girl sitting next to you, watching as she does the same. Those beautiful pearls of gray, gazing at you in a way that you’ve only seen in movies, TV shows, and your dreams.
Not so bad for a Tuesday.
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lalavenderangel · 19 days ago
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okay! here it is!
warnings: 18+!!! mentions of sex, murder, blood, stabbing, obsessive behavior, Nicholas himself is just honestly a warning if i’m honest, kind of angsty towards the end? and i think that’s all, if i missed anything please let me know!
word count: 4.3k
this is modern day but in this fic the Scream movie franchise doesn’t exist so the mask does not have a name is only described a little what it looks like. slightly off the movie as i wanted to give it my own twist.
this was not proofread at all so sorry for any mistakes but i do hope you enjoy it!
Ghostface!Nicholas x Reader!
(implied female but don’t believe i fully specified)
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The thing about Ojai California was that it was known to be peaceful and serene, it was one of the reasons why you had moved there. Once you finished college you had decided to move there, a small town, artsy-ish and it was away from the craziness of Los Angeles. Sure, LA was nice and UCLA was an amazing college but you weren’t into that scene much at all. One of your closest friends you made in Los Angeles was, though he was truly built for that life.
You had met him at a small party out in West Hollywood, you don’t even know how you got invited but you went with your roommate at the time. You had met him while getting a drink, no not like in the movies when you pour your drink on someone and all of that, no he literally just poured your drink for you and started up a conversation. No numbers or social media was exchanged that night but anytime you and your roommate had gone out he seemed to always be there and each time you guys would talk until he finally had just asked for your number.
Now you two were attached at the hips. Your other friends would sometimes make jokes about your friendship with him, calling him obsessive and weird but you never saw it like that. Nicholas was just shy and wasn’t like the rest of your friends. All they wanted to do was party and get wasted which there was nothing wrong with that but being friends with Nicholas was like a breath of fresh air. He liked staying in and reading books and watching movies and listening to music. He also wanted to be an actor and you knew he would be a great actor one day.
“I just don’t get why you like him so much. I swear he’s got to be like a secret serial killer or something.” Your friend Alexis says.
“He’s not, stop that, none of you have even tried to get to know him. He’s a sweet guy.” You say. It was another night of being out with your friends and you had asked Nick to tag along, which of course they weren’t happy about but you didn’t care. He had excused himself to go to the bathroom and of course your friends took that as their chance to talk shit and it was pissing you off.
“You only think that because you're in love with him or some shit.” Matthew says and you roll your eyes. You weren’t in love with him but you couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him.
“Alright I think it’s best if Nick and I leave.” You say getting up and ignoring their protests. As you were heading to the bathroom you ran into Nicholas.
“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, noticing the look on your face.
“No not really, can we go please?” You ask him.
“Of course we can, come on.” He says, placing his hand on the bottom of your back. He looks back towards the table, seeing the way each of your friends look at him, smirking to himself as he looks away.
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Nick wasn’t always like this, truly he wasn’t but when he met you, something in him snapped. He became obsessed with you. He needed you more than he needed air and he was going to have you, even if that meant killing every single one of your friends. All they wanted was for you to stay away from him but he wasn’t going to let that happen, no, you were his. They needed to go.
After Nick dropped you off back at your apartment he stayed for a bit while you guys chatted. You confessed to him about how your friends felt, apologizing profusely and reassuring him that you in no way felt the same way. He knew, he knew from the second you looked at him. You saw who Nicholas actually was, who he always was before this obsession started. You had also confessed to him that you and Matthew sort of had a thing but you were over it. He knew you were over it when he managed to hire someone to hack into your computer where he found a conversation between you and your older sister. You had told her all about him and she had been the one to point out your feelings for him. You agreed and mentioned how you were going to end the “complicated” situation you had with Matthew.
Matthew was first on his list. He was Nicholas’s competition so of course he needed to be the first to go. He also knew some things about him which made his hatred for him even worse. You and Nick had said your goodbyes and he took off back to his apartment. He set all his stuff down on the little table by his door before heading to his room to get the special voice changing device he bought to make his phone calls. He could have gone and killed him right away but where was the fun in that? He wanted to toy with Matthew, making him completely lose his mind before he killed him, it was all a part of Nicholas’s game.
He grabbed his burner phone he bought and dialed Matthew's number, bringing the phone to his ear and having a satisfied smirk on his face when Matthew answered.
“Who’s this?” He asked.
“Hello Matthew.” Nick says, his voice coming out menacing just like he had hoped for.
“What the fuck, that doesn’t tell me who you are. Prank calls died in the mid 2000's, loser. Fuck off.” The phone clicks and Nick smirks to himself, giving it a while before he calls Matthew you again. “Okay seriously who the fuck are you, quit harassing me.”
“No you listen to me you piece of shit, you’re playing my game now on my fucking time when I say stop, we’ll stop.” Nicholas snaps his patience, already weighing thin.
“Ooo am I supposed to be scared of someone on a phone? Please, have a nice night freak.” The phone clicks again making Nick clench his jaw.
“Fine you want to play this the hard way, we’ll play it the fucking hard way.” He mumbles to himself.
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A few days had gone by since the initial phone calls, Nicholas was supposed to make more but he let his anger get the better of him. He had pulled up in front of Matthews apartment building around 11 o’clock, parking his car a ways down, the plates changed for safety measures. He gets out of the car and makes his way into the building completely unseen as he maneuvers around after mesmerizing every detail of the layout in this building. He knew where the cameras pointed and when they shifted. He knew what places he could walk through without being seen. The less eyes on the situation the better. He made his way to the third floor of the building, finding the door of Matthews apartment, bending down to his knees and swiftly picking the lock before letting himself in. He roams the apartment for a moment to make sure no one else was there before he makes his way to Matthew's bedroom. There he laid, fast asleep in his bed in a sleep so deep there would be no way he would wake up anytime soon, not even to what Nick was about to do to him. And maybe that was Nicks doing from earlier in the day.
Nicholas stood at the foot of the bed, head to toe in black along with a white mask, the eyes and mouth so black there was no telling who was under the mask. He walks closer before raising his hand up high with the knife shining a little in the moonlight before he lays stab after stab after stab into Matthew’s back unable to stop himself for a moment before he groans and steps back, looking at Matthew’s mangled back, a sick smile on his face as he tilts his head and watches his blood soak his bed and drip to the floor. There was a thrill to this, a thrill Nicholas never felt before, and he wanted more. He brings his hand covered with a glove and wipes the knife off before he walks out of the apartment, once again avoiding a single person. His heart was pumping as he stripped himself of his costume once he managed to make it back to his car, leaning back in his seat as he caught his breath, a sadistic smirk on his face. He grabs the mask and looks at it for a moment, seeing Matthews splattered blood covering the mask, bringing his thumb in a little and wiping some of the blood off, admiring it on his thumb in the moonlight.
“One down, only a few more to go doll, and then you will be all fucking mine and not a single person will get in my way.” He whispers, sticking his tongue out and dragging the blood onto his tongue, a chill going down his spine before sets the mask down and takes off into the night.
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You groan out a little as your phone rings for a third time, realizing you can no longer avoid it as much as you tried. You reached for it, almost dropping it as you do before answering it.
“Hello?” You mumble.
“He’s dead!” You hear Alexis scream into the phone causing a chill to shoot down your spine as you sit up quickly.
“Who is?” You asked.
“Matthew! I came to his place this morning to find him dead!” She creams some more. Your ears started ringing and everything felt like it was going in slow motion as the room spun as you got out of bed. Your phone has dropped as you quickly walk over to put your shoes on, grabbing your keys and phone, hanging up as you run out into the living room. You open the door to find Nicholas on the other side, arm raised as he was about to knock.
“Hey, whoa, what's going on, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” He questions. He was right there and yet his voice sounded a million miles away. “Doll? You’re scaring me.”
“M-Matthews dead.” You breathe out.
“What? How?” His voice sounded panicked as he pulled you into his embrace.
“I don’t know, will you take me to his apartment please?” You whisper into his chest.
“Of course, come on.” He walks with you out of your apartment, arms around you tightly, helping you into his car before he gets in as well. He has to wait for you to tell him how to get there as he’s not supposed to know before he takes off, ‘missing’ a few turns here and there before he finally pulls into the complex. You don’t even wait for him to fully park before you rush out of his car, spotting Alexis right away and heading straight to her. You pull her in for a tight hug as you both cry.
“It was brutal, it wasn’t just some freak thing like breaking and entering, someone deliberately wanted to kill him. He was stabbed over thirty times they’re guessing and his back was so mangled and the wounds were so deep they went through his body as time went on. Who would do such a thing?” Alexis whispered, your stomach dropping as the mental image is painted into your mind. You hear footsteps behind you and you glance over to see a distressed Nick. Alexis saw him too and scoffed.
“Really, you brought him? He didn’t know Matthew like we did.” She says, not caring if he could hear her, in fact she hopes he did.
“I needed someone to drive me, and he was clearly coming over to see me anyway. I don’t see the issue, he knew Matthew enough, stop it.” You whispered, causing her to pull away and walk away from you. You sigh before turning to Nicholas.
“I’m sorry I should have stayed in the car. I was just so worried about you and Alexis, I can’t imagine the pain you two are feeling.” He breathes out but you shake your head and hug him tightly.
“I’m glad you’re here.” You say into his chest. He wraps his strong arms around you and holds you tightly to his chest, his dark eyes locked on Alexis as she talks to police. He knew he was going to have as much fun killing her as he did Matthew, he just needed to wait for the right moment.
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The town was shaken up with the murder of Matthew which meant that for a while Nicholas needed to stay low and what easier way then staying with you? It actually wasn’t even his idea, it was yours. You had told him about how for a few days you were getting creepy phone calls much like Matthew you had and your fear was skyrocketing. Did Nick do that to push you to have him stay with you? Maybe. As time had gone on and people in the town settled again thinking it truly was just some freak thing that happened to Matthew, Nick started planning his next kill. But it was hard to focus when as of the last week you were all over him, not that he minded but he wanted that rush of a murder again. He was itching to kill Alexis as she kept trying to take you away from him.
You, completely clueless to everything in Nicholas’s mind obviously, just for some reason craved him. I mean as mentioned before you always wanted him but this was not just love but lust and lots of it. Maybe it was the way he cared about you so much, or the way that he was willing to stay with you day and night to keep you safe. Or maybe it was the damn way he would come back to your apartment after a two hour gym session, tank thrown over his shoulder, his body dripping in sweat, and those soft grunts he made as he made his way to the guest room, but you were going to go for the first option on the list.
Normally you weren’t like this, you had someone to fulfill that desire but obviously that was no longer a thing. So one afternoon, when Nick walked through the door of your apartment you basically jumped him and you both ended up having sweaty, post gym sex on your kitchen floor and it sent your mind reeling. The way his strong arms held you tightly, the sounds he made, the way his hand fit so perfectly around your throat. He had a mix of praising and degrading you, the degrading taking you off guard but leaving you desperate for more. And his cock? Maybe you were being dramatic when you said this but it was truly a moment of will it fit? And man did Nick make it fit, over and over again until you were a fucked out, cock drunk mess on your kitchen floor. When he saw the way he had, it sent a pride in him knowing that he made you feel that way and he was going to be the only one to do so. He had picked you up gently and carried you to your bathroom where he gave you the best aftercare of your life. And that was it for you. Everytime he would walk through the door you guys would fuck all over your apartment until every inch was no longer left untouched.
It was as if you were addicted to him, in actually more than just a sexual manner as well. You needed him, you felt obsessed with him almost. But it would never compare to the deep feeling of his obsession with you, no he made sure to keep that at bay. Finally one night, as much as he didn’t want to, he had to stop your sexcapades.
“I’m sorry baby, I promised Samuel and Antonio I would hang with them for a couple hours tonight, oh please don’t make that face doll, you know it makes me weak. Look I promise it will only be three hours tops and when I get back I’ll eat this pretty little pussy until you’re an overstimulated little mess. Nothing in return I promise, it will be all about you, and you know how much I get pleasure from giving you pleasure. Is it a deal?” He asked with a bit of a pout.
You looked at him for a moment before you sigh and nod your head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be keeping you in all the time, I just…I’m still scared.” You whisper.
“Oh baby I know, but it will be quick and keep the door locked, I’ll take my key and just stay in your room okay?” You have those special curtains in there so not a single soul will know anyone is here alright. And you know I’ll answer your call right away alright?”
“Alright, have fun, and be safe please, I would be lost without you.” And that wasn’t a lie, you knew you would be lost without him. He smiles as he leans in and gives you a sweet yet super passionate kiss before he gets up to get ready.
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He looked at the time on his phone again, he now had about 2 and a half hours left as you ended up getting your way and he fucked you a couple times to keep you happy while he went out. He was watching Alexis from across the way, his car hidden pretty well as he waited for her shift to end. He didn’t have to do the full two hours if he was honest but he wanted to drag out her death a little, he wanted to hear her scream or her life as she looked into his mask, desperate to see a hint of who was behind the mask, knowing it wouldn't matter as she would be long dead after anyway. So if she ended up seeing him, he didn’t care. As soon as her shift was over, she got into her car and drove off back to her place, Nicholas following behind about two cars. When she got to her house, a gift from her parents, he waited until she got inside, and her guard was fully down.
After a moment he got out of his car and made his way around, once again unseen as he made his way to the back where he found out she never kept her door locked. He hid in some bushes and pulled out his burner phone and called her.
“Hello?” She asked as she walked around her kitchen, getting ready to make a snack while she watched a movie.
“Hello.” Nick breathed out.
“Uh, yes?” Alexis questions after a moment of silence.
“Who is this?” Nicholas asked. Alexis looked at her phone for a second before bringing it back to her ear.
“You called me, who were you trying to reach though?” She asked as she continued walking around her kitchen mindlessly.
“What number is this?” He asked, teasing her and knowing he was pissing her off.
“Listen dipshit I don’t know what this is but I’m hanging up.” She says, about to end the call.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, you’re playing my game and it doesn’t end until I say so.” Nick snaps. He knew the game was actually about to end, in fact the real game was going to be chasing her around her house before he brutally stabs her to death.
‘Fuck you.” The line cuts off and Nick goes into action, sneaking his way into the house. He stood in the perfect spot that reflected his reflection onto the window above the sink but also in the same spot where he could quickly duck and avoid her catching him if she turned around. He stood there for a moment, head tilted as he watched her every move until she finally made her way to the kitchen sink, lancing up for a moment then looking down then back up again as she gasped and turned around.
“Hello.” She called out and Nicholas shook his head. Has this bitch not seen a single scary movie? You never call out to the killer. He can hear her grab a knife, making her way around the kitchen where he waited, hidden enough for her to have to check twice to see him. Once she was close enough he grabbed her ankle and yanked her to the ground before getting on top of her, their arms wrestling around as she tried to stab him. She did manage to push him off as he allowed her, having her moment to stab him but instead she ran and Nicholas sighed. She really had her chance to slow him down and she didn’t. He got up and ran after her, her screams filling the house but not a single person outside was able to hear her. He had almost got her a couple times but she was a bit faster than he thought. Finally in a rush of adrenaline she managed to slice his thigh, making him hiss before he finally had enough. He got up and managed to get her trapped in a room where he grabbed the back of her head and smack it into a wall before throwing her down, raising his hand an stabbing her over and over again just as he did Matthew, the adrenaline of it all hitting him as he smiled wickedly as he watched her take her last breath, fear in her eyes. He stabbed her a couple more times for his own pleasure before he got up, wiping the knife with his gloved hand and leaving the scene. He would tip off the cops tomorrow, pretending to be a family member saying that they hadn’t heard from her in awhile and how that was not normal. And let them handle the rest from there.
When he got to his car he was still amped up, so he quickly rid himself of his maks and the costume, putting on the clothes he wore out before he paused, noticing the semi deep cut on his thigh.
“Fucking bitch.” He huffed, yanking his jeans on and driving back to your apartment.
When he got back it was him who jumped you this time as soon as he walked through the door, basically ripping your clothes off as he kissed you.
“Good night?” You questioned, giggling a little as he stripped you naked.
“Best fucking night ever.” He says, pulling his clothes off, about to pick you up until you gasped when you saw his thigh.
“Nicholas what happened?” Fuck, he saw it, yet he didn’t think to cover it, his high from the kill to strong.
“Huh, oh that? You know how the guys are, they get wild.” He tries to pick you up again but you wouldn’t let him.
“That looks bad, we need to get you to a hospital.” You say quickly putting your clothes back on in case, helping him pull his jeans back up before he steps back.
“It’s fine.” He breathes out, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Nick, clearly it's not, your thigh is soaked in blood.” You say and he can't help but let out a laugh, a laugh that makes you feel uneasy.
“Oh come on, it’s just a little cut now would you just fucking relax?” He normally wouldn’t be like this with you but his mindstate wasn’t fully back yet and that was his mistake. He should have waited to come back to you.
“Oh excuse me for caring about you.” You snap at him and it makes him snap.
“Care about me? Oh, I don’t think so, doll. No see if you cared about me you would have stopped being friends with Alexis and Matthew the second they kept running their mouths about me, but no, you remained their friends. You let them say all these awful things about me that were never true, barely defended me to them. And don’t get me started on the others, which I’ll handle them eventually.” He says looking at you, a dark and sinister look in his eyes. “See baby this all could have been avoided if you would have just stopped fucking talking to those low life mother fuckers but you didn’t did you? DID YOU?!” He screams in your face.
“Nicholas, you're scaring me.” You whisper as you step back from him a little, making him laugh more as he looks at you, frustrated tears filling his eyes.
“Scared of me? I’m protecting you! I did what I had to, to protect you, to make sure no one took you away from me. And now no one will.” He says pulling the knife out and pointing it at you. “And you doll, you’re going nowhere now, you’re mine forever.”
“Nick, wh-what did you do?” Your eyes well up with tears as you tremble.
“Oh baby, I killed them. But you see they left me no choice, they wanted you to stay away from me, to leave me. And like I just said, that is never happening.” He blinks back his frustrated tears as he steps closer to you, grabbing you harshly and pulling you against him, knife held to your throat. “Say it, say you’re not going anywhere.”
“Nick…” You cry out.
“SAY IT!” He screams.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You cry out.
“That’s right baby, shh it's okay, it's all okay.” His tone changes as he tosses the knife on the couch and hugs you tightly, his fingers brushing through your hair as he shushes you. “It’s just you and me now doll, just you and me forever.” “He whispers.
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taglist: @nicholaschavezslut69 @blackynsupremacy
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nestasminiaturepegasus · 7 months ago
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My harsh SJM opinions
-- I disappeared for a minute, but I'm back and ready to shit talk sjm books again. --
Rowan vs. Chaol: 
If you can forgive Rowan for punching Aelin and being vile towards her, you can forgive Chaol too.
Nesta's New Family: 
Hating Nesta for finding a family that understands her more than her biological family is weird. She hasn’t disowned her existing family; she’s added to it.
Valkyries and the Rite: 
Claiming the Valkyries shouldn't have won the Rite because it's unrealistic makes me laugh. THAT is where you draw the line? Really?
Character Behavior vs. Plot: 
SJM writes weird, shitty plots, but that doesn’t excuse the characters’ behavior. Rhys fingering Feyre in a place for SA victims was, yes, a weird plot written by SJM, and it still makes him WEIRD.
Rhys and Hypocrisy: 
If you claim Rhys couldn’t have sa’d Feyre because he was sa’d himself but then say Nesta’s abuse doesn’t excuse her ‘abuse’ towards Feyre, go sit in the corner and think about your hypocrisy.
Rhys in ACOSF: 
“Rhys only looked bad in ACOSF because it was in Nesta’s POV." Rhys looked better in Nesta’s POV than in Cassian’s. He is the problem.
Nesta and responsibility
Nesta did not neglect Feyre. You cannot neglect something that is not your responsibility.
Nesta antis
Nesta antis who bash her and bring her up in any circumstance are weird as hell (especially in vids talking about how ACOSF helped someone’s mental health).
Valkyrie Hate: 
Hating on the Valkyries is weird. Emerie and Gwyn are LITERALLY the least problematic characters in the entire SJM universe. 
If you don’t like Gwyn because you ship Elriel, try respecting women for more than their potential partners. And then going and fucking urself :)
Amren Sucks: 
Amren sucks as a character.
That’s it. That’s the opinion.
If I hear ‘girl’ one more time, I’m burning the book.
Feyre and SA: 
Saying Feyre wasn’t sa’d because it saved her life is WEIRD.
sa is sa regardless of the circumstance. Are we forgetting that Rhys admitted in ACOMAF that he kissed her because he was jealous, and in ACOTAR when he said the only reason he didn’t take advantage of her was so Tamlin wouldn’t kill him?
Minimizing SA so you can love on an attractive man is problematic and gross. Please don’t talk to me if you do that because, EW BRO UR GROSS.
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fun-k-board · 16 days ago
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MARVEL RIVALS - Christmas time!!
Characters included: MAGNETO, SCARLET WITCH, LOKI, STORM, MOON KNIGHT.
Note(s): This includes a lot of headcanons because I'm not sure the full lore and characterisation of things like the X-Men, what version of Moon Knight they're going for, what have you. So, I'm doing it on what I prefer from various comic runs, movies, shows, etc over the years. Some are a little lackluster because of this.
MAX EISENHARDT / ERIK LEHNSHERR / MAGNETO
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Erik personally doesn't celebrate Christmas, and that's due to the religious connotations of the holiday even if it's become less Christianity based over the years. But, he doesn't mind the excuse to give you a gift and spend time with his family if you do celebrate. Even if, at this point, the 'family' is just you and him.
He won't put up decorations if you're spending Christmas at his house or if you share a house, he won't wrap the gift, he won't have Christmas themed dinners or anything, but he'll always accept your gifts and give you one back if, as mentioned before, you happen to celebrate. If you don't, he most likely won't give you a gift or mention it as the holiday's existence will simply slip his mind. More of an afterthought than anything else.
Of course plenty of mutants on Krakoa celebrate, and plenty don't, and plenty have a weird in-between where they participate but don't really celebrate. So, it's not entirely out of sight out of mind. In all honesty, Erik is just happy mutants get a chance to have any holidays alive and happy with one another at all.
If you prefer to go all out for Christmas, as in all the things he wouldn't do that I mentioned before, Erik wouldn't mind. All he asks is that you leave both his room and the public parts of your home alone. Assuming you share a room, then he plainly asks that you don't decorate it, but if you must, to keep it at a minimum.
If you don't share a house and he's simply spending holiday time at your house then he politely comments on the decorations, maybe giving a bit of backhanded and passive aggressive sass if he thinks they're ugly. But, it's your home. It's not his place to say what goes and what doesn't.
Speaking of that situation, if you have family staying at your house for Christmas / you live with family, he's very awkward, and I don't believe he'd go at all if nobody in the house is a mutant. Erik doesn't doubt they know of him, it'd be strange if they didn't, so I think you two would give him a secret identity for your families safety. He'd be very silent and still during opening presents, with a dash of silent judgment.
I don't think he'd outright refuse to help you with decorations, he'd do that old man thing where he stares at you with a huffed look on his face until you ask him for help, in which case he mainly uses his powers if there's metal involved. Sometimes he'll say something like 'really my dear, did you truly need help or is this an excuse to spend time with me?' But hey, he's pretty tall so if you happen to not be tall, he's a great help!
I think he'd gift you something like jewellery, metal, but also with other things like, well, jewels. He wants something simple, but that shows heartfelt meaning. It's covered in intricate patterns, perhaps ones that reflect your place of origin to show that he loves you, even where you were born.
Erik's eyes tilt up, following your lingering gaze. He nearly lets out a laugh at the mistletoe hanging above you, but it comes out as a small huff. 'what a silly tradition.' he'd hum, before leaning close and giving your lips the most unsatisfactory peck he's ever given them. At your look, whether outwardly dissatisfied or with only a hint of disappointment in your eyes, he'll act like it wasn't purposeful, sighing as if this is some chore as he leans in for another. But you know him well, you know that hidden loving look in his eyes.
WANDA DJANGO MAXIMOFF / SCARLET WITCH
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Wanda, for the reasons in Magneto's section, also doesn't celebrate Christmas. Although, I don't see her continuing on any holidays in general or family traditions, her broken connection to her father most likely created a fractured connection to anything associated with him. She just doesn't seem like a 'holiday' person to me.
However, if you two either happen to share a house or she's at yours in time for the holidays, she doesn't mind helping you put up decorations or helping you cook for Christmas. If you have family, she's doing a mix of doing what she can to impress them whilst refusing to do anything that makes her go past her comfort zone.
I absolutely think she's a good cook, and if she doesn't unintentionally hijack the kitchen, she will help whoever's in there. Whether that be you or your family. Any attempts to tell her that 'you're a guest' and 'you should be relaxing' are met with a wave of the hand and a small, awkward smile. As much as she does just love to help your family assuming they're sweet and accepting of her, she also is very peculiar with food. I think Wanda would make her own side dish just in case.
Honestly, I think she would invite Pietro and Lorna if you and them are close enough? She knows Christmas is a family event, and since that's her family, why not invite them, right? She hopes you see them as your family too, because they've spent too long without something stable. Even though deep down she does have some love for her father, although maybe not as deep down as she thinks, she doesn't want to and would never contact him for Christmas with you and especially not with your family.
Wanda loves to do that thing where she hugs you from behind, absolutely astounded that she has you. She's astounded that you love her, and that you appreciate her so much. Not many do, and she can't help but find so much comfort in that. I think she'd do it whenever she gets emotional but doesn't want to show it, a hug from behind to tell you that she's hurting, but you're helping her heal.
Wanda doesn't like the feeling she gets when opening presents in front of your family, especially if they've given her something. It's usually something they've got an idea from after asking you, so maybe a candle or something handmade, and as much as she appreciates and even loves the gifts she's given it's still a weird almost performance she needs to put on. The feeling isn't as uncomfortable as it is just a bit awkward.
I think she'd only give you a gift if she knows you're getting her one, through communication. She won't ask what it is or peek through your mind to find out, she doesn't really care what the gift is exactly, and she trusts you enough to gift her something she likes and would find useful. I think Wanda does love little mutual acts of affection, so she wouldn't miss out on an opportunity to give you something.
Her eyes flick up before yours do, and Wanda can't help but give you a small chuckle, the most amused look in her eyes that you've ever seen. 'oh? Isn't this convenient.' she purrs, her hand outstretches, capturing your own in a comforting embrace. She whispers, 'I can't believe I got so lucky, my love. You're wonderful.' before giving you a short but comfortable and loving kiss.
LOKI LAUFEYSON
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Loki thinks your celebration is more than a little silly. I mean, who cares about this guy who gives presents to kids? Why not the adults? He does far more in a day than some snotty brat has done in their entire lifetime!
Oh- he's not real? Well, then where are his presents, mortal?!
He will say that even if you're not a mortal by the way. It's his personal way of saying 'you're under me and I'm perfect compared to you' without actually saying it.
He absolutely refuses to stay at your house for Christmas if you have family over, because he knows that he will cause mischief and you will get angry at him for it and he would rather you gift him your devotion than be under your wrath. Don't tell him he could kill you easily, he knows that, and he will if you keep pittering on. (He won't). Unless, perhaps, you don't have the best relationship with your family. Then he can probably convince you that it's fair game.
Loki will not invite Thor or Hela, don't even entertain the idea. He will leave.
I think he'd give you a dagger of some kind for a present, even if you're a regular Joe and don't have a use for weapons, you can always display it. And have an engraved stand that tells you your mighty lover, Loki, God of Mischief and notoriously handsome trickster, had gifted you it for your silly holiday.
He will not help you cook or put up decorations unless you literally beg him to, even then he can mainly do some pieces of meat at least decently well. It'd be best to have him do some parts of the cooking while you're preoccupied with the other. He tends to only help with the decorations he knows you'll struggle with, although he won't tell you that outright it's pretty obvious. Especially if you're shorter, less strong than he is, or have any kind of physical disability that could cause trouble with putting up decorations.
Will puff up his chest and grin when you compliment his efforts to help and or compliment his gift. He loudly proclaims that of course he'll give you something so beautiful, because he's beautiful and he very clearly has taste. But, you simply couldn't ignore the way his gaze softened a little when you were speaking. The way you could feel his eyes looking you up and down with adoration.
Loki raises a brow at your expectant look, slowly following your gaze until it reaches the mistletoe. Oh, you've explained this to him, the strange little kissing ritual you midgardians have. His expression twists into something different, his eyes sparkling with mirth, but he doesn't go right in for the kiss. Instead, he holds your chin in his hand, pulling you close until you can breathe in each other's air. 'what a silly mortal.' he mutters, making you tilt your head so he can kiss you. He doesn't intend it to be a small peck either, his kiss is as deep and passionate as you allow it to be.
ORORO MUNROE / STORM
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Ororo finds amusement in your tradition, the decorations, the gifts, it makes her heart warm. It's a time for family, and she reminisces over the X-Men's past Christmas times. It's never dull, lots of mutations being used when they're not supposed to, frequent arguments and drama, it was perfect. Not to mention, always the best meals from Gambit and Rogue. She adores the look on the younger mutants faces when they receive something special.
And, in her personal opinion, she's the best gift giver in the X-Mansion.
Ororo would absolutely help make meals, and she jokes that she's not as good at it as Gambit or Rogue are, but she'll try her best. She then proceeds to make one of the best meals you've ever had. It's perfectly flavoured, the texture is just to your liking, it's absolutely delightful. And if you're spending time with family? Expect her to go all out.
Your family will adore her, no doubt about that. No matter what the situation is, whether you and Ororo share a house, you live on your own, you live with family, or you and your family visit the X-Mansion for the holidays. She charms them with her sternness and discipline, her strength unimaginable, but her warmth and friendliness is what truly seals the deal in their adoration for her.
Unwrapping presents tends to be a long process for the X-Mansion. There's a lot of people there, so it's normal to open them all at once and try to get it through as quickly as possible, cleaning as you go with trash bags at the ready to throw in any waste. With a whole family, or perhaps just you in the mix, it can be a bit awkward and even a little overstimulating if you're not acquainted with the X-Men. She's never felt the need to pretend, so she assures you that you don't need to be happy the entire evening because Logan isn't and everybody still loves him, you'll be fine.
The one thing Ororo loves to do most is listen to you. Whether it be generally your life, what you had for breakfast, a story from your childhood, it creates something easy where she can bounce off the conversation with something of her own. It continues the conversation until either of you end it, and causes the conversation to flourish where it would've died otherwise. She uses this to find out what present you'll want for Christmas, so it'll heavily depend on what you actually want.
It honestly doesn't matter what you get her, she'll be appreciative all the same. She knows just how hard it can be to afford things, to create from seemingly nothing, no matter how much effort you put in. To her, the fact you gave her a gift at all is something meaningful within itself. So, even if it's some poorly made easily breakable bracelet, she will wear it with pride.
When she finds herself under the mistletoe with you, her lips curl into the most amused smile and she'll use her powers to twirl the leaves, a teasing hint to her true might. 'was this your plan all along, my dear?' she'll ask, leaning closer, waiting for you to capture her lips. If you take too long, however, she'll raise a brow and mutter a teasing 'don't test my patience' before kissing you herself.
MARC SPECTOR / MOON KNIGHT
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Marc is, well, he's not the most jolly guy, and it's been years since he's even bothered to tune into Christmas time when it happens. It's not like he has anybody to spend it with. He would much rather you spend Christmas with Steven or Jake, they're better at that kind of thing, and they're a lot more friendly, buddy buddy with you.
Of course Marc loves you, and if you really want to spend time with him for Christmas he will do it, but he isn't going to act differently for you. He will be the same edgy, broody man. He will absolutely say something like 'the Christmas lights are too bright, it ruins my outfit.' in the gruffest voice you've heard.
I think he'd be a good cook. Nothing that blows you away, but you can definitely eat enough to get full and be satisfied with it. Jake probably leaves some recipes around, and if it does end up becoming a disaster he can always take over and salvage the situation before the house burns down.
He doesn't mind the house being decorated, assuming it's either his or your shared one, as long as it's not like so many Christmas lights it's hard to see or so many decorations you get whacked on the face with them whenever you want to walk somewhere. He'd also help if you asked him to, but I don't think Marc would just hop on and help. He'd assume you have it all covered.
I don't think there are many universes where Marc would consider meeting and visiting your family for Christmas, especially not the Marvel Rivals one. If you're really insistent and passionate about it, he supposes he can. But don't expect him to stay for long if they're not accepting of you or him, he doesn't have any tolerance for that. Plus, he doesn't want to hear Khonshu complaining in his ear that he isn't committing murder while he's around your family, they don't get him or his Identity as Moon Knight like you do.
'Mistletoe, huh?' he muses, his voice would sound almost annoyed to anybody else, but you know him better than anybody else. Or, at least most other people. He crosses his arms as you look up and realise, clearly having forgotten at some point. With his expression a strange mix between a firm sternness and amusement, he pats his lips with his pointer finger twice. 'you put it up, you initiate.'
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angelfoxx · 1 year ago
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┊ ➶ 。˚ ° “…US?”
…in which their feelings for you become apparent.
FEATURING: simon “ghost” riley, john “soap” mactavish, & keegan p russ I AM SALIVATING
WARNINGS: suggestive, but nothing nsfw. yet 😇 also so sorry i write k**gan’s name and i just get fucked up. i just can’t behave myself. so i lose my mind a little in his section eek
NOTES: excuse my rather small starting lineup; i’m still new to the game and all of its lore and i’d rather get to know the characters first rather than make horrible headcanons based off of their fanon interpretations. you know, like making a six foot ten war criminal dresses in a fucking executioner’s hood a little uwu baby
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— SIMON “GHOST” RILEY.
✧ Everything I see on TikTok regarding this guy makes him seem like a fucking demon in the sheets. I really don’t get that vibe. Especially not at the start of a relationship.
✧ The first time you meet, he thinks you’re attractive. And then he pushes that thought aside, because he’s a soldier. He’s actively at work doing a high-risk, high-stress job. You’re attractive, yes, but he’s not going to pursue you. This is not the right time for that.
✧ Things develop after…like, a long ass time. And it’s not sexual in the start. It’s, like…you’re cleaning your gun down after a mission, and you get a clean rag thrown into your lap. You look up into those hollow soulless fucking eyes and Ghost just shrugs, not meeting your gaze but instead just vaguely gesturing at your gun. “Your rag’s dirty. You’re rubbin’ dirt int’a the thing.”
✧ It’s small things like that. Things that are helpful but always laced with a comment that could be considered sort of rude or abrasive. He doesn’t notice; he only realizes that he’s coming off as rude and probably pushing you away after he makes a comment on your form being lazy and Price, sort of quietly laughing, asks why he’s so insistent on snarking on you. He replies that mistakes like yours could get you hurt. Which, they could. But so could everyone else’s, and he doesn’t make comments about them. So…?
✧ Phase two of him trying to…hit on you? Exist with you? Who fucking knows. Anyways, he just stops talking. He’ll still throw you clean rags, but he won’t make a comment about how using a dirty rag is ruining your gun. He’ll still make a point out of sweeping fallen food and shit off of your spot at the table after you eat, but he doesn’t grumble and scoff at you not to waste anymore. He resorts to silent acts of service to the point where it gets annoying. He’s always quiet, but now he’s unnervingly quiet and honestly, is it still him if he doesn’t catch you for random things every now and then?
✧ The silent stage can go on forever, so a catalyst really saves you. The catalyst comes when a new recruit gets a little too aggressive; a small argument about your ability on the field turns into a minor brawl. Aforementioned brawl immediately ends when the recruit dares to put their hands on you and shove you and Ghost, like some six-foot-one demon cast from the pits of hell, appears behind you and gets very up close and personal with them. Asking what the hell they think they’re doing, asking if they think that’s a good way to have a team on the field, et cetera, et cetera. Basically, he makes the recruit feel like absolute shit. Oh, and he doesn’t look at you the entire time.
✧ So, obviously, now you have a weird situation at hand. You’re getting ready to go to sleep and everyone’s sort of looking at you funny, because there’s no reason for a fucking lieutenant to jump in and break up an argument like that—pulling people apart, sure, but not so suddenly and not so aggressively. The recruit hasn’t spoken to you. Ghost hasn’t spoken to you. So, anyways, you pay him a visit.
✧ You go down to say thanks, and for some fucking reason, the guy can’t take a compliment. Or gratitude. He says you were slower than the other recruit, that it’ll get you killed on the field, et cetera. He can’t just shut up and take the thanks.
“I’m telling you, I…I came down here to thank you, of all things. Can you cut the criticism one time and accept it?”
Ghost stiffens. It’s not a thousand-yard stare anymore. It’s just a wide, pissed-off glare. For a long minute, he’s silent. And then…
“Welcome.” His voice is grumpish. “Happy?”
“Sure.” You manage a little smile. It’s sort of funny; he can’t just take your thank you and drop it. “It’s improvement.”
Ghost nods once, albeit stiffly. “Okay.”
“…so, you gonna tell me why you did it?” You ask it as a joke. You aren’t dumb. You know he wants you gone. You’re expecting a harsh “get out” or something of the like. You aren’t expecting an answer.
“Disrespect makes ignorance. Ignorance makes casualties.” Oh. An actual real, reasonable answer. Surprising. Ghost himself seems a little surprised; he blinks owlishly again, and he doesn’t say anything else. He’s just a big guy standing in a little room with a skull mask on.
“Oh.” You swallow. “That’s…rational.”
“Were you expecting irrational?”
“No. I wasn’t expecting anything.” You scoff. “You’re not exactly chatty.”
“I don’t waste words.” Ghost’s eyes narrow. “I’m not dumb.”
“I didn’t call you dumb.” You shrug. “I’m just surprised you gave me an answer that wasn’t bitching at me.”
“I don’t bitch.”
“You do.”
“I’m not a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl, recruit. I don’t bitch.”
“Even Price thinks you bitch. At me, at least. All the time.”
✧ Price thinks he bitches at you? And he’d told you? Oh, no, no. Externally, Ghost is stiff and stoic. Internally, Ghost is shitting bricks. Price had told you that? Straight-up told you that? Oh, no. You and Price talk and he comes up in conversation? Oh, no, no, no.
✧ He addresses this with Price, obviously. Storms in all puffed-out and pissy and asks what the hell he’s doing gossiping about his soldiers and Price just sort of laughs him off, asking what he’s talking about and then why he’s so upset that he’s bringing up one of his best men to one of the recruits.
✧ Oh.
✧ Ghost swears up and down it’s not like that. He swears and he bangs the side of his hand on the table and he curses on his own heart that it’s not like that but the whole time Price is laughing because in all of the years that he’s known Simon, not once has Simon broken through Ghost. But now, he has. The stumbling over words, the defensive aggression, the way he’s pacing so furiously—oh, Simon Riley is melting down inside that big mask and it’s equal parts heartbreaking and hilarious.
✧ Cue Price becoming a wingman. Ghost swears he’ll kill him every time he puts you two together to spar or puts you two on cleanup duty or god fucking forbid you’re in the doghouse doing some foul task and Ghost has to watch you. God fucking damn the captain, because he knows Ghost will grumble and complain but with you, he’ll eventually stop that in favor of helping you. And it’s sort of heartwarming for him to do his nightly rounds and it’s all quiet but there’s voices coming out of the kitchen and he can hear Ghost in that gruff, grumbly tone telling you how to mop and you snidely telling him that if you can’t do it right, then maybe he should do it instead. And he objects, of course, and then within ten minutes Price watches Ghost’s shadow come up to yours and he hears the mop change hands.
✧ It takes you a long time to realize that you’re really being assigned to Ghost’s side for every fucking thing you do. It takes you an even longer time to realize that Price tends to pass by you two on occasion, and every time he does, he’s smiling. And it takes you a ridiculously long time to realize that Ghost isn’t always radiating heat; whenever he takes the mop from you or takes the gun you’re cleaning from you, whenever he finishes off a task that you’ve started, it’s not that he’s always that hot. It’s that, under that mask, he’s flushed.
✧ It takes you a very, very long time to realize that the legendary Ghost has taken an actual liking to you.
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— JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH.
✧ Thank fucking god this guy is next. Slow burn ass Ghost makes me want to rip my eyes out. Just have passionate angry sex and talk about your feelings after. Christ.
✧ It’s not exactly a secret that the minute you arrived on base, you gained an admirer.
✧ Soap isn’t someone who rarely gets hooked on someone else. The guy’s a walking heart eyes emoji. The difference with you was that it wasn’t the kind of attraction that had him sweet-talking you over drinks that night.
✧ This was different. Rather than chase, Soap wanted to impress — and, well, he tried. He tried his fucking hardest. He tried so hard the other higher-ups noticed. How embarrassing.
✧ Every time you’re in the room, he somehow gets even chattier. His voice drops. If he’s working out, he starts loading weights onto the bar he’s using to an almost comical degree. He loses his fucking mind. It’s like he short circuits. Which is ridiculous, because he’s a fucking soldier. What the fuck is he doing trying to lift five hundred pounds on a Tuesday morning? Why is he freaking the fuck out?
✧ The thing is, right, is you’re not exactly hovering over the guy. You have your own agenda to adhere to and also, it would be really weird if you just started laying praises on him, so you go about your day as regular and poor Soap is left heartbroken and also achy-armed because you literally could not care less that he’s lifting double, triple his body weight.
✧ Literally every higher-up notices. They make jokes about it and he borders on threatening friendly fire. It’s just a little crush. That’s all it is. Yeah. And so when you’re all doing team sparring and you keep winning, he’s just watching you like a lovesick puppy because it’s just a little crush. That’s all.
✧ Price can’t have his soldiers slacking off. Of course not. He can’t have them getting lazy — so he orders Soap to go up against you. Because, you know, he seems out of it and you’re the best of the recruits, so you’ll go against someone better. Yeah. That’s why he calls him out.
✧ God bless the poor guy. He panics for like three seconds and then makes a very thickly-accented taunt about how it’s unfair to you to go up against him. You, of course, in the spirit of good fun, reply to his taunt and tell him to prove it.
✧ He goes into the circle with you. He goes into the circle with you and he fucking falls apart.
You’ve quickly learned that talking is Soap’s weakness. If his mouth is moving, his feet fall behind.
“Get enough sleep last night, MacTavish?” You dodge a flying fist. “You look a little sleepy.”
“Got plenty.” A wry grin crosses his face. “Don’t worry about my beauty sleep.”
“I have reason to. You need it.” You wrinkle your nose. “Bad.”
Soap’s jaw drops slightly, and — there! — he hesitates. Probably out of surprise, but it’s enough. Deftly, you lunge in at his knees, swipe them out, and…hm. Simple. Almost too easy, actually, to pin him.
Soap’s heart is pounding under your hand. His chest is flat against the ground, but you can feel it through his back, which is wild in and of itself. He grunts when his cheek hits the ground; he mumbles something akin to “bloody hell”, but you can’t quite make out the words.
Grinning, you sit back and kick your heel up against his neck, keeping his head pinned down. The cheering you receive mostly comes from recruits who are impressed with your skill.
The minority is higher-ups, exchanging amused glances. They seem awfully humored with the sight of one of their own being pinned so easily by a new recruit. Hmm…
✧ From that point on, Soap somehow manages to watch more of your sparring sessions. He usually just watches, rather than critique; if you ask, he’ll just say you certainly seem to be doing fine. If you ask for help, though, he’ll help you. Christ, he’ll help you. He’ll genuinely spend time assisting you on whatever is troubling you.
✧ Eventually, after a long training day, you decide to ask Soap to join you in the ring. You genuinely just want to see how you stack up to a “better” opponent; you’ve apparently pushed beating him to the side. Or you just want to do it again. He doesn’t think of that, though.
✧ He’ll come in (after teasing you just a bit) and he will spar with you, just giving you advice and pointers mid-action. He’s whipped, but he’s also still a trained soldier. He knows what he’s doing, and once he gets through the brain fog you seem to weigh down onto him, he is genuinely helpful.
✧ Still, after you’re both hot and panting and finished and resting on the sidelines, you have to ask him why he helps you so much. You have to ask if it’s because he thinks you’re lacking, or bad, or if it’s some sort of personal vendetta for that one time in front of the recruits and the higher-ups.
✧ Soap just laughs and, rather awkwardly, rubs at his neck. He avoids eye contact, and he bites his lip, and he tilts his head around before he dares answer you, tone sheepish. “Consider it a, ah, personal interest.”
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— KEEGAN P RUSS.
✧ SHITS MYSELF VIOLENTLY. SO SORRY
✧ i love this fucking man so very much and i don’t know jack shit abt him because i need to play ghosts and get the first hand experience like I don’t want to spoil his character but I URRRGHHGGGGG
✧ imma try to do him justice but sorry if im missing on important lore
✧ He’s not as uptight as Ghost, but he’s not as whipped as Soap. He’s somewhere in the middle; he’s aware that you’re attractive but he does push it aside. He’s working. You’re working. He doesn’t have time for that, and it’s also a safety concern. He remembers what they did to Ajax, and god fucking forbid they try to pull that shit with anyone else to use as bait.
✧ When he’s at base, he’s busy. He’s devoted to his work and he doesn’t cut corners to chit-chat. The most social he’ll really get is at dinner; he’s the kind of person who will eat with the group, but rather than talk, he’ll really just listen. he’s me fr fr
✧ Getting to know Keegan is sort of awkward because he’s just not super outgoing. He’s attractive (if your radio is on and you don’t buckle at the knees the first time you hear his sexy deep pantywetting voice over the thing, are you even real?) and he’s got the whole mysterious quiet guy thing down, and yet when you approach him to try and strike up a conversation with a simple question (“So how was your day?”) he’s prone to just looking at you and raising a brow and answering sort of flatly. (“Same as every other one. What, did something happen?”)
✧ Most of your bonding actually occurs when it’s just the two of you. You’ve bumped into him late at night before — sometimes he’s at the range shooting targets and fiddling with a variety of weapons, or sometimes he’s in the kitchen scouring the shelves, or sometimes he’s in the gym working out when nobody is there to bother him and ogle his fine ass fucking body holy shit his thighs. He’s a little easier to talk to at night, actually. Maybe it’s the lack of a crowd, but the first time you stumble into him making himself a pot of fucking tea at damn near midnight, he actually seems friendly.
“What are you making?” For a moment, you panic, thinking that you might’ve just scared the shit out of poor Keegan by speaking so suddenly and from behind where he’s standing beside the sink, a little humming kettle in front of him. His shoulders god his fuckinf shoulders i want to lick them don’t so much as twitch, though — and then you remember the guy’s entire job is stealth and observation. Hell, he probably heard you across camp.
“Tea.” Yeah, he couldn’t sound less concerned. His voice is as low and gravelly as usual; he sounds a little more relaxed, actually, not so brash and shout-y. “Chamomile.”
“Sergeant Russ drinks chamomile tea?” You laugh a little, sort of tentatively. You two aren’t strangers, but you’ve only had a few conversations…if you can call brief exchanges conversations, of course.
“…yeah?” Keegan actually sounds confused; it’s dark in the kitchen, but you can make out the outline of his head turning over his shoulder. “What, you got a problem with that?”
“No. No, sir. No problem.” You shrug. “I just didn’t peg you to be the chamomile tea type.”
“Didn’t you?” The short scoffish bark Keegan lets out is a brief laugh. “What did you peg me for?”
“Dunno. Black, I guess.”
“Are you calling me boring?”
“No.”
Keegan hums in response to that. He busies himself with pouring his tea and thank fucking god your eyes have adjusted to the dim light in here because god, his fucking hip to waist ratio under that gear is something wicked and you let your conversation slip. You’re in here for a snack, but you don’t want to bother—
“You come in here for somethin’ other than staring?” Oh. Good. This is the Keegan you’d expected after hearing him sass half of his team on comms. You can hear the edge of a grin in his voice; there’s a shuffle as he turns around and then a wooden groan as he leans against the counter. A short second later, you hear the almost exaggerated slurp of tea.
“Crackers. I’m hungry.”
A wooden scrubbing sound. He’s moved over, presumably to let you open the cabinet housing boxes of sort of dry, not particularly good crackers. He doesn’t say a word; he just keeps drinking his tea and pretends to ignore you as you make your way over, crouching down to fumble for a bag of crackers. Pretend, because you can feel that he’s watching you. His presence on the field is invisible; his gaze in the kitchen is not. Still, he doesn’t bother you; he lets you get your crackers and retire to the edge of the counter across from him to snack, and he doesn’t say a word.
“Are you always so quiet?” You gesture vaguely at the slight shape of him. “Is it just part of the job?”
Keegan laughs, more to himself than in response to you. “Sure.”
✧ He is, generally, pretty quiet. His usual demeanor is laid-back and observant; if he’s not under stress, though, and you start talking to him, he’ll respond almost always with something mildly sarcastic. You come to learn that he isn’t actually boring. He’s got a quick sense of occasionally-dark humor. Sometimes he laughs at his own jokes—usually after he’s started to walk away from you. He’s fiercely protective of the Ghosts and any recruits training near or with them. He also doesn’t seem to mind you.
✧ You’d hesitate to say you two were friends — it always seemed like there was something in between you, though you couldn’t name what — but you were friendly, and it was nice.
✧ During group dinners, he’d stand against the wall behind you. Or across from you, though usually doing that meant that he’d make a game out of trying to get you to squirm under his constant staring. He’d run into you late-night in the kitchen and make casual, not uncomfortable, small talk. Hell, at one point he offered you a drink post-training and made a sort of point to always offer you one whenever you had returned to base and were lingering around in the later hours.
✧ After a particularly long day, you find him in the kitchen, just drinking straight from the bottle. He offers you the thing — he seems more than a little tipsy, but when you decline (he’s been drinking directly from it, and…the fuck does army hygiene look like?) he sort of half-laughs and says, sarcastically, “What d’you look so horrified for? Too good to share a bottle, princess?” and then he immediately excused himself afterward.
✧ You know that saying, “drunk words are sober thoughts”? Yeah. Yeah.
✧ i need the fatty part of keegans thigh in my mouth right now i need to bite it i need to bite it and go rrrrrahrhrahrah like a fucking rabid dog
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maxphilippa · 5 months ago
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i find it genuinely sad that people only talk about misogyny on the ii fandom when it comes to defending taco but no one goes over the way people treats most of the female characters which is like ACTUALLY misogynistic and the actual issue. i went over taco's thing a lot of times already but i'll also cover it here. like lets see how people treat women on ii briefly.
like have you seen how people treat suitcase. how she's often treated as a kid/constantly forgotten as a person outside of using her as a weapon to villainize a guy that does want to fix things with her. have you seen how little care people put on her. have you seen how they only remember that she exists for suitloon or barely even have anything to comment on her
have you seen people talking about candle outside of her being hot or outside of silvercandle? have you seen how people LITERALLY villainized her because she wanted to take care of herself? have you seen anyone say anything about her on a deep way? have you ever seen people focus on the way working with silver affected her outside of "silver doesn't deserve her"?
have you seen how GENUINELY HORRID people were about cabby winning s3? how they still SOMEHOW made it about silver? how people were incredibly ableist towards her? how they still kept going on how cabby wasn't an actual good person? on how she didn't deserve the win?
have you seen how mic, the character that genuinely has the best writting in the whole show, only gets talked about to completely miss the point of her arc AND ONLY for shipping, completely disregarding her growth as a person? completely forgetting that her story is one of growth and healing?
have you seen how people sexualized test tube to the point where she's only seen as a hot scientist or as a weird gal who's a freak instead of focusing on the fact that she's someone who heavily struggles with mental health and making connections? like people simped a lotttttt for her when she was having a whole breakdown because she was going to lose her friend, and no one really focused fully on those aspects of test tube's character.
have you seen the overall way people treat lightbulb? she's just a shell of her character for the fandom. she's genuinely so so deep and interesting but she got fully downgraded to just nonsense on fanon takes.
have you seen how people treat taco? have you seen someone even focus on her as a character outside of her being a "hot villain"? have you seen anyone actually get what she's going through? have you seen anyone wanting her to get better but also not forgetting what she has done? have you seen anyone actually understand why she can't get a redemption arc on the traditional sense? have you seen anyone not immediately go to defend her when taco herself does not want to be excused, nor does she think she should be? have you seen anyone getting that she's a complex character and that they can still enjoy her without having to excuse her actions? have you seen anyone ACTUALLY getting why taco needs to let go of ii and not make up with the people she hurted? have you seen anyone treating taco on a reasonable way? have you seen anyone treating her as fully capable of doing bad things but also capable of getting better if she really does try? have you seen SOMEONE that actually CARES about taco outside of her being attractive?
my point is. the ii fandom is rooted in misogyny, yes. but it is not because of people preferring other characters or what not. sure there MIGHT be some cases in which that's the thing, but most of times it isn't. the fandom is genuinely overall horrid about women and don't actually focus on them outside of being hot either. like i have once seen someone who genuinely hated candle but simped for her because her violence was hot in ep 17 and like. that's Not Really Good.
and most of the fem characters that aren't deemed hot or don't have anything to hate them for get often ignored (ex. pepper, soap, clover, etc). also don't get me started on how MOST OF THE TIMES THEY JUST HAVE TO give women a familiar relationship with a male character to which they happen to have a positive relationship with on hcs (ex. Candle and Yinyang being hced as mother/sons, Cabby and Yinyang is the same case) which uh. you know. it doesn't really sit right with me
you can think a woman character is hot/attractive and also care about her. you can like a fucked up woman as well while also not justifying her actions, it won't make you a bad person. like personally i really really love microphone and find her attractive but at the same time i genuinely care about her story and how much she's a story about growth and finding yourself, alongside with other people. a lot of the stories of the women charas are ultimately about growth and finding themselves on ii. and i think all of you should be focusing on the depth of a character instead on whether a character is hot or not therefore we can define if they deserve to be treated with decency, like that's ever done anything positive anyway
!! THIS POST IS NOT LOOKING TO CAUSE TACO RELATED DISCOURSE. KEEP THAT SHIT TO YOURSELF. THIS POST WAS MADE AS A FORM OF CRITICISM ON HOW LITTLE PEOPLE ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT FEM CHARACTERS ON II WHILE ACCUSING OTHERS OF MISOGYNY SO DELIBERATELY. IF YOU GET OUT OF TOPIC I'LL BITE YOUR HEAD OFF (NOT A SERIOUS THREAT BUT BY GOD BE DECENT) !!
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stardewvalleybut-i-draw · 1 year ago
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Humming a tune (writing)
Evelyn notices the farmers both seem to sometimes hum to themselves SO she decides to approach the male farmer and ask what tune he's humming in order to get to know him better.
Word count: 1,378 words (so medium I guess)
Characters: Evelyn and Mask Farmer.
Vibe: nice and wholesome moments :) I'm not really experienced in writing but I'll do my best to make it coherent, enjoy! :D and with pictures!
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A lovely spring and sunny day welcomed the valley. Evelyn tends to the town square flowers, putting care and attention to each one.
It's the town's flowers after all. The people in the valley need to be represented properly!
It was nice to be out in the center of the town square on days like this. It allowed her to greet anyone who went through, give them a big warm smile, and catch up about what was happening that day. It was also nice to be able to bathe in the sun's warmth and reminisce on the past and how the valley had changed over the years. In came the male farmer with focused eyes, dedicated to a goal in his mind, ignoring everything around him. She could tell he was passing even with her bad vision by the sound of his fast and heavy footsteps, always in a rush. Both the farmers often cross here in the mornings, although Evelyn really only saw the sister out. Both would look at the bulletin board outside of Pierre's shop, check the calendars, and go on with their daily routine but only she would talk to Evelyn and the other townspeople. "Perhaps he's shy," Evelyn thought seeing him walk to the Help Wanted board. He greeted her once when they both first arrived in Pelican Town and he hasn't talked to her since then...or anyone besides for transactional reasons it seemed. Evelyn's face grew sad at the thought. The poor boy was ignored by everyone or treated as an anomaly to be feared and avoided. It didn't seem to bother the farmer but her heart could not let it be. "The flowers can be tended later, it was about time someone bothered to try and have a nice conversation with him" Evelyn thought. She began to walk towards the farmer who was still reading the Help Wanted note and noticed he was humming something. Thinking about it now, the farmers both tend to hum a tune to themselves. It's almost never the same song and seems to change throughout the seasons. "Excuse me, dear" she asked beside the farmer "May I ask what tune you are humming?"
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The Farmer jolts in shock and turns towards her. "Oh I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to startle you." Evelyn says apologetically "I was just curious about the songs you hum to yourself, they sound very nice, was it a band back in the city?" He was really expecting anyone to talk to him today so Evelyn's Interruption took him back a bit. He also had a lot to do but her soft genuine smile guilt tripped him to take the time to answer her. "The song doesn't exist." The farmer stated bluntly "Oh"
Not the answer Evelyn was expecting. She had sworn she heard both the farmers hum the same tune.
Very curious she continued "So did you come up with the tune?" "No" the Farmer responds "I hear them In my head." Evelyn's confused expression let him know it made no sense to her but he couldn't really find another way to explain it besides being direct and honest. Maybe he should have lied, he thought. His sister did all the time to explain weird things like this but her genuine curiosity stopped him from lying to her face. Could he really lie to sweet little granny Evelyn? Evelyn saw the farmer's face slightly turn from her in shame. She didn't really understand the answer but she didn't want him to feel ashamed of his response so she softly said "It's ok. I don't need to understand it, do you like the songs? The farmer nods.
"Oh, that's nice to hear, I assume the song changes through the season? do you hear it all the time?" "Yeah..." he responds. She could tell the Farmer was starting to get uncomfortable with her questions so she tried to ease his nerves. "You know...your grandpa used to do the same thing too" The farmer looks at her in surprise "It's true!" she exclaims Evelyn begins to walk to the town flowers gesturing for the farmer to follow. The farmer does so.
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"When he used to run the farm, he would whistle songs to himself while he worked" Evelyn reminisced. "Your grandpa used to say he would hear the valley singing to him, he would call it a superpower! Not many of us understood what he meant but by the sounds of it, I guess it was passed down to you"
The farmer smiles and chuckles at the idea. Their Grandpa did used to whistle a lot on the farm. It was only a faint memory since both he and his sister were so young when they used to visit. In a sense, the valley was singing to them.
"If it's not too much, could you hum a bit of the song you hear?" she asked The farmer paused for a second. He looked slightly at the sky and listened. He did his best to match the tune but it was difficult when there was more than one instrument to hum in his head.
Evelyn listened internally and cheered for the farmer once he had stopped. She could tell he was embarrassed by it but genuinely flattered. "You have a very lovely voice dear, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, oh!-" she interrupted herself. "I heard there was a band in town, maybe you should join, I think you would make a lovely addition!" He knew she was talking about Sam's band but he hadn't really talked to the guy... or anyone in that band. Sometimes he saw Abigail up in the mountains or Sebastian taking a smoke break but never really paid them any attention. He never needed to. Evelyn begins to tend to the flowers as she speaks. "You don't need to if you don't want to. I can tell you don't like to talk much, I don't want to pressure you."
She pauses.
"but I can tell you like to listen" The farmer had never really thought about it that way before... but when you don't say much, the only other choice is to listen to the world around you. "I know not many of us can understand you and I've noticed others treat you differently because of that" Evelyn gently places her hands on top of the farmer's hand. "-but I don't want you to feel like you're not part of the town. You will always be welcomed here...no matter how odd you are"
The farmer softly smiled to Evelyn. "Well," Evelyn exclaimed. "I don't want to hold your day up much longer but If you ever want to talk more about your grandpa or just to hear an old lady ramble about the past, I'm always here for you" The farmer is quiet for a second, taking in her words. "Thank you." He says. "Ohhh, no need to thank me, I haven't done anything, sweetie" She replied but the farmer quickly responded. "You did." Evelyn curiously looked at him confused. "You talked to me."
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Evelin's heart was touched beyond words as the farmer leaned down to hug her. She squeezed as hard as her weak arms would allow and stayed there for as long as he needed. But the farmer quickly got up, smiled, and began to walk to the mines. They waved each other goodbye and moved on with their days. The warm moment being over just like that. As the farmer walked up the mountain he began to think. It was only a small moment. It had never really bothered him that the town viewed him as a cryptid. He often reveled in being odd, weird, and feared. He didn't have much of an interest in getting to know anyone. But Granny Evelyn had warmed his heart. Maybe he didn't need to be so cold to everyone. Maybe he should stop by and chat before heading to the mines. It's not like the caves are going anywhere. Maybe... ...he'll stop by and get some cookies :)
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feelo-fick · 1 year ago
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WELCOME TO PHIO'S EXTREMELY SELF INDULGENT AU HOUR!!!
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"Oh, FINALLY, another visitor! It's so quiet in here, it's unnerving..."
This AU was meant to be posted on halloween but eh.... Happy Thanksgiving? HAHAHHA
still dont have a name for it, but basically, back in october i was suddenly hit with the need to have a halloween au, so now we have ghost-ified prismo and vampire/witch-ified scarab :D ( although didnt finish the scarab reference spread in time because uh, school and i lost motivation unfortunately )
au synopsis and rambling below the cut!!
the premise of this au is simple : scarab is a real estate agent whos known for his manners ( never barges in, always waits to be invited! though it is a little weird how he keeps asking to be let inside even if they already agreed that he was going to come over... ) and efficiency at his job - that is, convincing people to buy high-end housing for a good price. although his social skills need some... work, his ability to persuade people isnt something to be laughed at.
unfortunately for him, persuading the higher-ups is a completely different story - which he learned the hard way after flunking something big for the company. they dont choose to fire him, no. instead, they put him through a trial, assigning him to sell their most unprofitable property : the mansion in a small town locally known for being haunted by an "evil spirit". if scarab manages to sell it (for good profit) within six months, he is excused and is able to go on with his job. if not... well, best not to think about it, yes? after all, he'll succeed with ease - all he has to do is dispel any worries about some fake "ghost" that only exists as a result of filthy rumors. maybe clean up the place. not too hard, right?
meanwhile, stuck inside said mansion is an extremely bored prismo. hes been hangin around this place for like... how many years now? forty? a hundred? meh, all the same, lately the place has been quieter than usual. i mean- of course people dont just walk into a creepy mansion every day, but there would usually be at least a few bold kids or vloggers coming in now and then for him to entertain but even then they wouldn't stay long ( for obvious reasons ). and now, just some unbound spirits or dumb animals would pass by and thats about it. a guy can only entertain himself for so long, yknow?
that is, until today. when some posh-looking business man entered the premises and started snooping around ( whats the deal with that, by the way?? ). must be prismo's lucky day!! this is the perfect chance to pull out all the stops and play the FUNNIEST prank ever! hah!
... oh. looks like things've gotten a little out of hand.
WOOT WOOT WOOTTTTTTTTTTT!!! im so so happy to finish this because ohhhhh my god this has taken ages for no reason other than the fact that ive been really dragging myself to make presentable art JSNDJSJXNSJX.... i realize that i have never worked in real estate ( or at all ) which means i have probably fucked something up but uhh um ill deal with the backlash later :"D im also realizing how many odd unanswered bits and bobs this au is going to have in the future, which... i am ignoring for the most part for now, but there are SOME things that i DO have figured out like ghost lore... but thats for another time, for now i leave you with this >:)
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ditizygirl · 7 months ago
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Editblr is a breeding ground for idolatry, ableism, racism and so much more all for a community about putting images together.
I've been here for only a year but I feel like I've seen it all, and the excuses oh my god the excuses. You are all 15-19, you should not have the mental capacity of a 8 year old. Your common sense is non existent and almost all of you guys are so fucking stupid it's pissing me off more than any god can understand. You are old enough to have logical thinking skills, you may have a disorder and it may be a reason but not an excuse.
Alot of you have forgotten the saying "Think Before You Talk" and I've sure as hell done alot of thinking. This is my deep dive into editblr.
Ableism
Typing quirks are a way of personal expression but why do so much of you hate to add plain text. I can understand to extent because plain text hates my head because of how long it can be but I'm not gonna act like a little bitch about it. I'm gonna add my typing quirk or even fonts itself to it.
I'm gonna ask someone to help me, or to do it for me. Stopping making excuses for ableism. Alongside with the typing quirks, your psds are ugly and eyestrainy. Psds also fall under racism because I have no idea why you guys are ignoring the fact some make dark skin characters lighter but in the case of ableism most of them are really bright and makes it hard to see.
Orange and brown? Green and yellow? Blue and brown? Why are you putting colours that can be so much eyesore together? And won't even tag as eyestrain and when someone does ask you only do it for one post.
Romanticization
This one is weird as fuck and I see no one mentioning it. Editblr highkey has a ddlg problem, this "little girl" aesthetic you guys have going on borderlines ddlg alot and its icky. The baby talk typing quirk is disgusting, stop it.
I'm not one to judge how someone copes with their trauma but what I DO judge is how you act when majority says its uncomfortable. Now this section I'm a bit unsure how to phrase it, gotta love dyslexia, but that isn't going to stop me.
There's alot of very uncomfortable romanticization of stalking which I've seen so much of alongside abusive relationships and the justification of these things.
Racism
Really can't escape this one unfortunately. Many of you are like kpop idols, you're too dyslexic towards the difference between appropriation and appreciation. Incase you forgot let me remind you.
You can not gift japanese names. Gifting names is a native practice therefore you can only gift native names. Also I've noticed you weirdos befriending people just to use their cultural names. I can't even say it east asian fetishization because its only Japanese.
Also for the love of God can you guys stop saying nonmem and non women especially when referring to sexualities. It's not hard to simply say "queer attraction to women" and "queer attraction to men".
Coming back to the "gifting" names thing, I think it's interesting how all of you conveniently have a Japanese friend who "gifted" you the name of a cute pink anime girl. Maybe I'll do a post later on how much of a bad liar you guys are.
Closed symbols is also another big problem you all have. No matter how much times you're told you can't use something you always cry "but my friend from xyz culture said it was ok!" One person can't speak for a whole culture. You're nothing but a coloinzer in disguise hiding behind the idea of aesthetic. If you want to know if a symbol is closed just use this site.
Goddess Personas
Yea this one is getting a whole section of its own. Like any people I am uncomfortable with goddess personas, especially being someone with biblical sources. Now the idea that a teenager on the internet is making people call them a goddess is strange isn't it?
In my opinion, they're all annoying, copy and paste, and I think not a lot of people talk about how the really bad ones get. You all love to indulge them, make them think they have power over them. You put them on a pedestal and praise them and get surprised when it all goes to their head?
Stop giving 14 years old power, stop indulging in their habits and letting it go their head. Forcing people to refer to you as their goddess? Their Lord and saviour? Their idol? Someone they must listen to? It creates a power inbalance which always leads to the weirdest of manipulation. Also all the engagekiss copiers are so obvious why would you want to copy the identity of a groomer? It says alot of about yourself if that's what you think is ideal.
Callout Posts
Now, personally, I believe that the only reason a callout post happens is because someone was affected, does it not? Very rarely would a callout post would be a fake one, especially if someone has more then one. If you defend someone who has more than one call out post that's on you and you're gonna end up making one some day I can genuine you that. People don't make them for no reason.
This is all I have to say for now. I hope you guys really consider what I have written here, or not, considering the fact you guys have shown multiple times you lack reading comprehension
@starriesse @dollicous @doveinne @firstgf @kiochisato @lamboll @cherryshh @narcbf @lavendergalactic @npditary @sprinkleoverdose @necroangelz @eskeys
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creedslove · 9 months ago
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https://www.instagram.com/reel/C5g5rRaK4BU/?igsh=MTRiMnlzd3NkM2JtYg==
I love Javier Peña and Angst 😭💔❤️
Javier Peña x f!reader
A/N: bestie, you altered the chemistry of my brain with this video, I loved it very much and I love angst too!!! So excuse me while I do a little something here ❤️
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• Javier Peña didn't do relationships and that was it; he flirted, he took you out for a few dates and he fucked around, no matter if he was kind, sweet, and he seemed in love, he wasn't in love. He was just enjoying things - and you
• and he didn't count on, was the fact you feel for him, Javi wasn't cocky, but he knew it happened more than he'd like, but he couldn't help it, even if he made it clear he didn't do relationships, women still wanted that from him, all in the innocent and silly hopes they could change him
• when you ended up blurting out you were in love with Javi, he got all stiff, looking at you with a tense expression on his face, he cleared his throat and tried finding words to be honest as best as he could without being a disgusting prick and break your heart
"I'm sorry cariño, I don't do relationships"
• you swallowed hard and nodded, Javier might've not done relationships, but you certainly did not humiliate yourself for men of any kind
• you left his apartment and decided to cut ties with him, there was no reason to keep close and end up hurting yourself: he would always lure you into having sex and you'd be filled with hope only for having your heart broken once more, so you didn't call him anymore
• Javi even tried ringing you up once or twice, it was late at night and he felt horny, but you didn't pick up and he realized it was better that way, no further heartbreak for either of you
• the only real problem was he was having a hard time forgetting about you and letting you go; it was so stupid and pathetic, he wasn't like that at all, quite the opposite, he would easily move on until he found his next cariño to spend a couple of weeks with female companionship but still, all he could think of was you: your smile, your face, your body grinding against him, he dreamed of you; you were the last thing he thought of when he went to bed and the first thing that came to his mind when he woke up
• he really thought about going after you, but he felt embarrassed and shy to do so, instead, he tried letting go and kept on with his everyday life
• one evening, Javi felt like having a drink among people, he wanted to leave his apartment, flirt with beautiful women and perhaps take one of them home, everything was going alright for him until he scanned across the room and saw you, but you weren't alone, you were with a new guy
• he downed his glass in one sip, watching as it didn't seem you were on a first date: there weren't awkward conversations or weird body language, quite the opposite, you were giggling, flirting and that stupid jackass had his hand on your thigh
• he hated to see you biting your lips and giving that guy and not Javi himself that lustful look you often displayed at him
• Javier tortured himself by watching you and your new guy until he paid for his drinks and left without looking back
• you had seen Javier, but you made sure to pretend not to have acknowledged his existence, you still weren't over him, but you would try and be with someone who would really appreciate you, unlike Javier Peña
____
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suzukiblu · 1 year ago
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Been looking through your assorted aus page and the link for "weird amnesia Timberkon"/"for the game young" is broken (as in, the tag does not appear to exist). It seems like you put a lot of time into that page so I figured you'd want to know (and also selfishly I am very interested in finding out what weird amnesia timberkon entails)
WHOOPS, my bad, messed that one up. Should be all fixed on the page now, though! Oddly I only seem to have one teeny lil' snippet up for that AU, to my surprise, could've sworn I'd posted more? Sooooo as thanks for catching that busted link for me, have a nice big chunk of the WIP behind this read-more, hah.
So Superboy is apparently an idiot. Then again, whatever, if Bernard were an indestructible telekinetic half-alien he would probably also not worry too much about looking subtle in his civvies or maintaining a secret identity, and also it's been a while since he's heard anything about the guy doing any active superheroing anyway so maybe Superboy is just assuming that the entire planet somehow forgot about his teen heartthrob superhero posters and all those close-up high-def publicity shots of his very public face and whatever? Oh, and also that one time that he literally fucking died to save the whole freaking world and the big ol' memorial statue. Statues? There might've been two, come to think. 
So maybe an idiot. 
A very hot idiot, though. 
Well, whatever, Bernard figures, taking a sip of his boba tea and idly watching Superboy check out his boyfriend from the far side of the cafe like he's a sad puppy in a shop window who just wants a little love. Tim is looking at his phone and appears oblivious to Superboy's existence. 
Bernard assumes Tim's doing that thing where he pretends to not be Robin, for obvious reasons. That thing remains adorable but is getting increasingly less convincing as time goes on. Like, he really doesn't know what Tim actually thinks he thinks he does in his downtime? There is no logical reason for a civilian to be either as ripped or as scarred as Tim Drake is, but part of being Tim Drake's boyfriend is pretending to be oblivious to those facts and also never questioning his flimsy excuses to run off at a moment's notice or disappear during a crisis or whatever else. 
Bernard tries to figure out how to politely extricate himself from the situation for long enough for Tim to go check up on Superboy, because Superboy very clearly needs to be checked up on. Unfortunately he went to the bathroom like ten minutes before the guy walked in all sad-puppy so the obvious option is out, and Tim knows damn well he isn't gonna call his parents for anything less than a full-on emergency, and his friends it'd be weird not to just text, and . . . fuck, he doesn't know. He needs an angle here. 
"I'll be right back, babe, just gotta duck into the bathroom real quick," Tim says, glancing up from his phone with an apologetic smile. Bernard relaxes slightly. Okay, that works, thank you, Bat-planning. Superboy can just follow Tim back to the bathroom and they can do whatever superhero sidebar they need to do back there. 
But then Tim gets up, gives him a peck on the cheek, and heads back to the bathroom, and Superboy . . . doesn't follow him. 
The hell? 
Bernard represses a frown and takes another sip of his boba. Superboy continues not to follow Tim. He just sits there at his own little table with his completely untouched drink, looking like the saddest puppy that has ever sadded. 
Bernard is mystified. 
Are they having a fight, maybe? Is Tim ignoring Superboy because of that, not the secret ID stuff? That seems weird and not very Tim-like, fighting or not. But Superboy's in Gotham and came into the cafe after they did, so he can't be the one avoiding Tim. But also he didn't follow him to the bathroom when presented with the very unsubtle opportunity to do so, so . . . what the hell? 
Weird. 
Bernard takes yet another sip of boba and keeps watching Superboy. Superboy seems oblivious to said watching, but he guesses the guy is pretty famous and is a very public superhero and is always doing impressive shit and all that, so he's probably used to being watched. Oh, and also he's stupid, stupid hot. 
Bernard cannot imagine being this used to attention, but apparently Superboy is. Bernard, of course, is not a punk idol superhero built like a porn star and a supermodel had a threeway with a bodybuilder. So like, that particular bit of mental dissonance probably makes sense and all. Life experiences are not universal, and all that. 
Especially not when the life experience one is comparing oneself to started in a cloning tube. 
Well, it's not like it's a burden for Bernard to have a free pass on checking out a hottie while he waits for Tim to come back from, presumably, waiting for Superboy to come and talk to him. Which Superboy is just . . . not doing, still. Inexplicably. 
Still, sad puppy or not, Superboy's civvies look damn good on him, so that's something. Bernard's enjoying them, like as an aesthetic experience and everything. Superboy's wearing an unbuttoned red flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves over a very tight black tank top and even tighter light wash skinny jeans that are bafflingly intact, considering the fact that a dude with Kryptonian-level super-strength is currently vacuum-sealed into them. 
Does tactile telekinesis work on skinny jeans? Is that a thing? Like, are Superboy's jeans currently indestructible? 
That sounds amazing, actually. 
Also, those buckled-up black leather boots he's wearing look like they could straight-up kill a dude, Kryptonian power-assist or not. And the shiny mirrored sunglasses and ridiculous multitude of even shinier gold piercings all suit the guy, somehow, and even without looking like too much. 
Relatedly, Superboy's tank top is very, very tight. 
Also relatedly, his nipples are apparently pierced. 
And so is his belly button, it looks like. 
Ngh. 
Superboy's vacuum-sealed jeans are not quite tight enough for Bernard to figure out if he's got any below the spike-studded belt piercings, but his imagination is happy to fill in the blanks there. He's tempted to ask for Tim's theories on the existence of any such piercings, because yeah Superboy has super-hearing but Bernard has no shame and Tim logically should know, buuuuut he's still pretending not to know Tim is Robin so yeah, probably he shouldn't do that. 
He could start a new conspiracy board for it, maybe. That'd be fun. 
Superboy also has leather cuffs on his wrists and mismatched rings and necklaces and a really hot fade haircut that is noticeably windswept, and really, really looks like something that Bernard would like to see somebody dig their fingers into. Just–look, there's curls. Bernard cannot be blamed for curls. 
And he's trying not to eye the cuff bracelets too much, but they provide very nice inspiration for a certain style of kinky thoughts. Not that Superboy couldn't snap basically any set of cuffs that wasn't made of kryptonite or promethium or like a magical kryptonite-promethium alloy or whatever without even trying, obviously, but like, somehow the thought of the guy having to restrain himself more than anything else makes the whole mental image hotter? Like, somehow? 
Bernard pictures Superboy wearing a pair of cheap flimsy sex toy handcuffs and trying very, very hard to keep himself in them while someone else takes very careful inventory of all his piercings, wherever and whatever they all just so happen to be. 
Jesus. Yeah, there's a thought. 
Is it weird to consider flirting up your boyfriend's superhero bestie while he's badly pretending to be a civilian, Bernard wonders? Is that a thing? 
Probably, but he still has no shame and is also in an open relationship, so whatever. 
Hell, who knows, in retrospect maybe Tim actually arranged this setup specifically for Bernard to get an eyeful of his work crush. Like, Bernard always felt like Robin and Superboy had some significant UST going back in the day. Maybe Tim wants to finally do something about that, and the setup idea sounds like a very "Bat" approach to doing said something. And it'd explain why Superboy didn't follow Tim to the bathroom and maybe even why he's coming across kind of anxious right now, if he's trying to psych himself up to come over or something. Like, if he's nervous about making a good impression, though Bernard cannot imagine why he ever would be. Well, not like Supers are known for their undercover skills, so . . . 
Either way, if that's the plan, Bernard is very fine with it, so he decides to go find out for himself and picks up his drink to head over and chat the guy up. Worst case scenario, he’s just gotten his hopes up a little, he figures. Best case, he’s putting Superboy out of his “oh god, how do I do undercover” misery. 
"Mind if I sit?" he asks, and flashes Superboy a grin as he gestures at the empty seat at the other half of his table. Superboy looks weirdly startled, like he somehow expected to go unnoticed despite being a literal superhero who is also unspeakably hot and is also wearing very, very tight clothes that he's this close to busting out of. Like, at least half a dozen girls are actively checking him out right now, as is the dude behind the counter and the old guy on the sidewalk outside who’s busy badly pretending to be reading the outdoor menu board instead of checking out Superboy’s ass through the front window. 
So yeah, Bernard really does not understand that apparent assumption. 
Come to think, maybe Superboy has some self-esteem issues or something. Bernard admittedly might also have self-esteem issues if he were Superman's clone. Then again, if he were Superman's clone, he would look like Superman and also be very aware of how Superman himself looks, sooooo . . . 
Seriously, "younger and sexier punk rock Superman" is not a vibe that Bernard can imagine going ignored all that often. Or ever. 
“Uh–what?” Superboy says. 
“I’ve been temporarily abandoned by my boyfriend and I’m easily bored,” Bernard clarifies politely, though obviously Superboy was staring at Tim long enough to have noticed said abandonment the moment it happened. “So, mind if I sit?” 
“I–sure?” Superboy says, looking nervous. Bernard puts another tally in the “too bad at undercover work to follow the Bat-plan” column. Whatever, the guy’s trying his best, he’s not gonna judge him. 
There's a pin on the inside of Superboy’s flannel, Bernard notices as the other shifts awkwardly in his seat, and is vaguely puzzled by the sight of it. Like, it's just a little thing and he doubts he'd have even seen it if he weren't in this close to the guy, but . . . 
Just–yeah. Little pin. Just like a cheap little round button, like the kind that comes out of the dollar bin at all sorts of random stores. And it's hidden inside Superboy's flannel, mostly, but it's definitely got the S-shield on it. 
Bernard is perplexed. Even in Gotham, it's not like it's weird to see people wearing Superman merch. So like, why is Superboy hiding that?
“Cool,” he says as he files that away as a little oddity, and takes the empty seat. Superboy continues to look nervous. Bernard continues to work on figuring out if his weird Bat-boyfriend who he’s not supposed to know is a Bat set him up on a blind date with his superhero bestie. The nervousness supports the theory, anyway. 
Man, this dude really is even prettier up close. How was he Tim’s bisexual awakening with this guy around and in close quarters with him? Like, he’s flattered, don’t get him wrong, but also maybe Tim has some vision problems and he should get that checked out before it inconveniences his nightlife. 
"Sooooo like . . . what do I call you?" Bernard asks, peering across the table at him curiously. "Because the obvious option seems like a bad idea, obviously.” 
"‘The obvious option’?" Superboy stops looking nervous long enough to look confused instead. 
"Yeah?" Bernard says, cocking his head. Superboy cannot possibly think he’s being subtle here, so . . . "I mean, I assume you don't go by 'Superboy' when you're dressed like that. Like, that's the whole point of being dressed like that, right?" 
Superboy stares blankly at him. Bernard cocks his head the other way, now officially the confused one. 
"What?" Superboy says. 
"Okay, sorry, this is the thing where you-know-who still insists on pretending he's not Robin, isn't it," Bernard realizes, which he really should've realized would be a thing from the start. He supposes that makes sense even with Superboy’s total lack of subtlety, though, superheroes probably do have to really commit to that thing. Especially ones who work for Batman and Superman. Or . . . just around Superman, maybe? Bernard is not fully clear on that particular superhero hierarchy. "My bad. So, uh, what do I call you, because there is obviously no obvious option. Obviously.” 
"You . . . recognize me?" Superboy croaks. 
"Uh," Bernard says, brow furrowing in bemusement at the very weird expression the guy's currently wearing. "Yes? No offense, you're kind of recognizable. Like, do you even have a secret identity? I mean, you're a clone, right, and I know you were just doing the full-time hero thing in at least Hawaii, so I actually have no idea if you ever bothered making one up or not?” 
"You recognize me," Superboy chokes, just staring at him, and then bursts into tears. 
. . . well, that can't be good.
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naamahdarling · 6 months ago
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Today's medical update, please pardon any weirdness as I am using speech to text, and please excuse how long this is. I put an excellent picture of Fancy at the end for you. Here we go.
The shortest version is that my GP is going to try and centralize this. I have made an appointment for Monday. We are going to start over from the very beginning. New specimens, new cultures, everything.
The long version is kind of wild ride. It's going under a cut
My GP is now telling me that on two of the occasions that I went to Urgent Care or the hospital for a UTI, the records say that I did not actually have one.
This makes no sense whatsoever. I was symptomatic and I could smell it. On both of these occasions, I was told in no uncertain terms that I did have one.
I do not believe I was lied to at either facility. That means the only possibilities are that the testing was done improperly, the results were charted improperly, the records were sent over improperly, or I didn't understand what was being said to me.
At this point, with this absolute clown show that has been unfolding around me, this ridiculous circus where each act is fraught with nonsensical antics even more baffling than the ones before, I am literally unable to come to any conclusions. This is absolutely maddening.
And it's frightening, because there is something wrong, genuinely, and it might be something that they are unable to detect with the methods they are currently using. That's scary for a multitude of reasons, one of which is that they are not going to be willing or able to treat something if they do not think it exists. The other is that it opens the door to the possibility of their being further testing, which makes me violent to even contemplate. I want what is wrong with me to be simple, easy to treat, and relatively benign.
This has been frustrating, and drawn out, and I am sick of it. By itself it isn't enough to completely break me down. It's been almost unbearable when combined with the facts that I have serious concerns about the health of three of my cats, that my father seems to be worsening in his condition, that I have several other medical storylines going concurrently with this one, one of which is extremely stressful and frightening, and that all of this fuckery and running around has caused me to have to cut out most of the very, very few enjoyable and meaningful activities that are present in my life.
It has impacted my ability to be present for my partner, and for my pets, for me to sustain communication and relationships with people who are not my boyfriend or my best friend, and to simply fucking relax.
Also I can't fuck. Like, I know that this is the laugh at horny people website, but that is significant. Receiving not just physical touch but intimate touch is one of the very few ways I have of assorting ownership over my own body at this time.
I feel my identity has shifted from an internally defined "struggling person just going about their business" to an externally defined identity as a patient with a body that is sick and who must now structure their life around the demands of a system that does not care about me in the slightest, even though the providers usually do.
From the outside I know that this doesn't seem that terrible. I've spent the vast majority of this with no pain, and the times I have been in pain haven't crested a 3. If it weren't for the fact that I don't know what it is, it would be relatively trivial!
Unfortunately, because this isn't all I have going on, it's been really fucking things up. I space my appointments out so that I have time to recover between each one. I have PTSD, I have medical trauma, I have emotional reactions after stepping into a medical facility for any reason, and when things go wrong even in a very small way they can be intense. I manage this by allowing myself to have the reaction, experience all of the feelings, and come back to myself. It is a healthy way of doing things. It doesn't work, though, if I'm having to deal with one thing after another and no time in between to recover from it. This is essentially what has been happening to me for 2 months. Appointments, phone calls, messages, fixing mistakes, having to explain my history repeatedly as it gets ever more complicated. There's a lot more to it than just one appointment a week, which is already a lot for me.
I know this is something that chronically ill people deal with all the time, often for years, often for life, but the extent of it is new to me and very difficult to bear. My personality is vanishing under the weight of all of this crap. I do not feel like myself.
So yeah, sorry for rambling so much but this is just been...I don't even have the words to describe it. Nonsensical, but in an unfortunately consequential way. I've been going in circles all this time, apparently.
I don't really expect anybody to read all of this. But if you did, thank you. It means a lot to me. This place, and all of you, function as a sort of pressure relief, and a source of constant, pleasurable entertainment. I know many of you empathize with what I'm going through, and that helps me to feel less alone. That all by itself is so important.
Anyway, here's my cat.
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She got to be on the puzzle table and was very smug about it.
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