#only slightly painful
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dawntheduckrb · 1 year ago
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"This one won't take nearly as long" they said (it took twice as long 😋) (they hate bricks even more now)
All that's left is to paint it, in the endgame now B)
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zillychu · 8 months ago
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what if his suit WASN'T shrink wrapped
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atitanbitch · 6 months ago
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I’ve just made the realization that Dead Boy Detectives can’t be an infinitely long show because actors do, in fact, age and get older, and dead boys don’t.
It is a sad day
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crow-with-a-pencil · 1 year ago
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Hi @naffeclipse I'm very normal about your fic. Have some frantic midnight sketches as extra kudos along with some tag rambling :)
#my ârt#crush depth#crush depth spoilers#fnaf#tw blood#tw drowning#idk how many others apply#anyways this is midnight crow coming out of the shadow realm to scream at you#first of all a cs ramble is on the way I'm still recovering from that fic too#im biting you naff im biting you so dang hard#I don't even know much about iron lung besides watching a play through but damn do you make me want to know more#just. where do I even start. the atmosphere is established so well and even though there was such a small space to work with I FELT it#I felt the claustrophobia I felt the walls and the console and the single dim lightbulb as my only solace in this death trap#the THOUGHTS#poor yn had so much time to just get lost in their head and spiral pretty much constantly#the dread. the constant overhanging dread of knowing there's a 99% chance they're not getting out of there alive and at this point#they just want to accept it and let it end bc there's hardly anything to go back to if they live#naff. look at me. reading some parts made my chest actually tighten with dread. it was so well done.#this poor human just buried in existential horror and just wanting it to end in a slightly less painful way#and the unknowable beings trapped outside who absolutely REFUSE to let that happen#god those eldritch fish were trying their hardest but just couldn't get in#yn was trapped inside while they were trapped outside and I just#I am EXPLODING the more I think about it#thinking about when they thought they were drowning and tried to breathe again#wanting to die but still having that instinct to survive#asking to be ripped apart but still cherishing their last breath of air#I'm shaking you I'm shaking you I'm dying on the floor#ough.#I'll never mentally recover from this and I want you to know I genuinely get inspired by your writing#this has been midnight crow ramblings. I just hit the tag limit. have a lovely night.
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vaguely-concerned · 1 month ago
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this screen, this companion combination, with davrin having this shield equipped, cracks me up so hard every time I see it. davrin really is stepping up and keeping hard eye contact with rye like 'hey. hey loverboy. we need your attention elsewhere right now. eyes off the insufferable killer for hire abomination for five minutes please we're on the clock chop chop'
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luck-of-the-drawings · 7 months ago
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POOR GABRIEL MONTEZ! YOU NEVER SAW THIS COMING DID YOU? ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER. SECURITY. SAFETY. & THATS EXACTLY WHAT YOU GOT! JUST IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR BODY. LETS JUST HOPE NO ONE FUCKS THIS UP. LETS JUST HOPE YOU WONT HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS.
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#cw gore#jrwi suckening spoilers#jrwi suckening#jrwi gabriel#jrwi gabriel montez#LOOK FAMILIAR?hahahahahDONT WORRY#IM REUPLOADING THIS HERE BC i fixed up the drawing a lil. and also i wanted to add main tags#U WONT SEE ANY DIFFERENCES BETWEEN THISSUN N THE POST ON MY SIDEBLOG.i changed the image there too.HA!!!!!!!#ANYWAY.i rambled plenty about pain and gabe on my sideblog.SO LETS TALK ABT THE ART SHALL WE.ihad i very hard time getting the colors down#would u believe i nearly left this uncolored??FUCKED UP!! it was only a sketchhow did it end up like this. it was only a sketch...#BUT IM RLY GLAD I WENT W COLORING IT.this time i actually used the airbrush n pencil tools BUT i also have a handy dandy brush i made#its just the mspaint air brush tool. fucking LOVE THAT THING. but now its in fire alpaca and it can be slightly transparent.IT LOOKS SOGOOD#perfect for splatters and grime.i love you mspaint i love youuu.im also so happy w the blood here.i think i reached a shift last year#back when i made that genloss fanart something abt the way i draw blood finally CLICKED and im like OH. the inside must always be darker.#like i KNEW that already but it was like my hand itself finally had it click.i wonder what i will learn next?I LIKE THE ORGANS HERE TOO#not as veiny or thready as i usually draw em. but i think thats fine. not as WET as id like em to be but thats also fine.#i got the point across. the point ofc being WOW THIS IS GRUESOME AND PAINFUL AND TERRIBLE#I LOVE HIS EXPRESSION.i love pain and thinking abt pain. you lose yourself to it after enough time passes of just being in an ocean o agony#at one point its just too tiresome to scream or writhe. theres a point when the body accepts it.sometimes.atleast.#OHHH GABRIEL AS A CHARACTER DELIGHTS ME SO MUCH.he is a dog to me.a thing to serve others.I WISH I KNEW MORE#WHAT ELSE DID YOU WANT BOY?? SURE POWER AND SECURITY AND SAFETY ARE NICE.BUT DID YOU HAVE DREAMS? WANTS? PASSIONS?#WHAT WAS THE STORY BEHIND THAT TIGER TATTOO ON YOUR ARM?WHAT DO THE DOGTAGS SAY BOY?I WISH I COULD HAVE TEA W U#OHHH TO SIT DOWN WITH A CHARACTER AND JUST SPEAK TO THEM. AND YET. AND YET IN THE END ITS ALL TRAGEDY AND COMEDY#TRAGEDY AND COMEDY THAT IS SO SO PAINFULLY UNBALANCED. SIGH.#WHATEVER CMERE BOY YOURE BECOMING AN OC OF MINE NOW UR GONNA BE IN SPACE AND UR NAME IS GONNA BE VINEGAR#UR STILL GONNA BE SHIP OF THESEUSED THOUGH. OOOHHH GABRIEEELLL GABRIEL MONTEEEZZZ#HOW MANY PEOPLE WERE BUILT INTO YOU.HOW MANY DID YOU LOVE AND CHERISH.HOW MANY TATTOOS DO U RECOGNIZE ON UR NEW ARMS#WHAT WAS IT LIKE? ON THE NIGHT U WERE SIRED?WERE YOU EXCITED? DID YOU SEE YOUR BOSS' FACE?WHAT WAS THIS PROMOTION LIKE?
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ehlnofay · 2 months ago
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One day – as far-off as a century, as near as tomorrow – it will all be a grand old story.
The stories will speak of a handful of champions, rushing headlong against time and logic to save the world; the last Blades, the last Septim, and his hanger-on Hero, carving a bloody path to the Temple doors. The stories will tell of skies like burned blood, of fire and ash and uncountable legions of monsters – hundreds, thousands, millions, the quantity rising with each telling – the city streets cracked and quaking, every civilian locked up in their homes and businesses and praying for deliverance. The stories will tell of the appearance of Dagon, red-hot and roiling, a gory perversion of the sun; they’ll tell that when all seemed lost, Martin Septim sacrificed himself in a blaze of glory, calling down the avatar of Akatosh and casting Dagon and his ilk back whence he came. They’ll tell that the golden dragon threw back its head and roared, and the sky cleared and brightened at its word; they’ll tell how it petrified in place, a magnificent pillar of stone, a sacrosanct statue. A site of pilgrimage. A shrine, to the grace and glory of the gods, and the bravery and benevolence of the last Emperor, the best of men.
It will be a good story. All splendour and triumph, a bittersweet victory right out of the epics; the pages closed, the crisis done, the world saved in as golden a resolution as could be asked for. It doesn’t get better than this, a perfect saviour, a hallowed end.
What the stories won’t tell is how, under clear skies and sunlight, the Hero of Kvatch falls at the statue’s marbled feet and howls like the world is still ending.
“You fucking coward,” Pax is screaming, as best as she can. Her mouth tastes like smoke. Her voice is hoarse. “Stupid worm, fucking – selfish bastard – what’s wrong with you?”
His head is swimming, a bit; he shouldn’t have tried to stand, but he – but – he’s dragged himself up to the dais, just about, and managed to sprawl himself over the edge, a snail’s trail of blood smeared along the floor behind him. The copper tang of it is strong in his nostrils. The statue stands, proud and silent, one marble claw dug into the cracked stone of the rostrum. His whole body is beginning to ache – just because of a stupid stab wound in his side, he’d swear he’s had worse, it’s not that bad, it’s not that bad. His throat burns. He isn’t crying. He isn’t.
The sky is so fucking blue.
“What’s wrong with you?” he demands, again, and brings the heel of his hand thudding against the clawed foot hard enough that he feels the impact down his arm, through his blurry head. “Why would you – piece of shit – sorry spit-gill – I thought –”
None of their thoughts will go through to the end. “I thought,” Pax says again, and she’s not crying, and it hurts so much it’s looped back around to not hurting, and it’s all getting fuzzy at the edges, all the world narrowed down to this and this and this and all fucking hell she’d rather be anywhere, anything else. The statue is cold. Her throat is scraped raw. “Come back,” she’s begging without quite meaning to, “come back,” and she drives her palm into the stone again, and the pain sets her reeling.
And all hell, the sky is so blue; the statue enormous; and here they are, at its feet, vision blurring, staring up at its cold marble face. It’s so fucking tall, so proud, face tipped up towards the new-appeared sun, away from them.
“How could you?” Pax says, and then they can’t even see it anymore, blood unspooling from them like skeins of madder-dyed thread. Red has never been their favourite colour. The shape of the dragon, glowing like the sun, is fixed forever on the backs of their eyelids; gold, they think, is worse. The world is detached and floating about them. They taste smoke and then bile. Stone digs fierce into their spine.
It burned like the sun, the dragon; like all the divine light of Aetherius come to earth just to sear the moisture from her eyes. Where it clawed Mehrunes Dagon, his blood boiled; when it screamed, the world moulded itself to its call. Pax hadn’t known what was happening, while it happened; sure as shit doesn’t know now. What they do know is that he’s gone. What they do know is that the dragon didn’t look at them once. They don’t taste ash on their breath, now; just fear, stagnant, sour, blood jangling bitter in their veins and seeping out to soak their gambeson.
It doesn’t hurt, anymore, there’s just this spreading, vague numbness. It doesn’t feel like their body. It’s just a thing they’re putting on. Their ears are still ringing from the crashing-in of the Temple, but there’s a faint buzzing of noise outside. They might be dying. They can’t be assed to get up.
Skeeving asshole. They’re getting blood on the dragon’s immaculate feet. The hollow sounds of voices feels distant. Could well be worse.
Then, “… a healer, here!” they hear, much closer than anything else had been before, paired with the faraway thudding of the door, and “Pax. Pax! It’s – where’s –” and there’s hands on him, a cautious manipulation of his neck, a shifting of his legs. Pressure on his sternum, and then his stomach, and a pained grunt slips out of his mouth, bound up with a slurred curse.
“Stay calm,” says an unfamiliar voice, soft and steady. “I’m just accessing the wound.”
“Go away,” Pax says, or tries to say, but his voice is whispering-hoarse and the dragon looms in the dark even still. He could open his eyes, but what would be the point?
The hands stay on him even when he bucks, holding him steady; they whisper over the stab in her gut, pulling at the drying blood, mumbling words that she can’t be fucking bothered to listen to, one voice known to her already, one voice not; pressure again on the injury, and they try, half-heartedly, to breathe out a swear – and then light, copper-bright, behind their eyelids, and burning heat, and pain pain pain eclipsing all else as something inside them wrenches back into working order, and then their eyes are open and the sky is blue and they are very fucking aware, thank you.
Pax sits up, fast enough to send the world dizzily whirling, and shoves the mage-medic away from them.
“Piss off,” he says – and it’s still hoarse, smoke-throated and scraped raw, but there’s more bite to it this time, more sound. The strange hands fall away from his side, and he looks down. His gambeson is hanging open, cords untied, the emblem of the wolf split clean down the middle. His undershirt is rucked up around his chest, too, so much of his skin is bared to the clear, bright air; all to get to the wound tucked just under their ribs. It’s an underwhelming thing – smaller than they would’ve thought, a thin short slash like a very red mouth has opened itself up in their gut. It’s stopped dribbling quite so much blood, gone scabby with rough healing, though the stuff is still smeared all over their skin, damn near enough to bathe in. It’s barely anything, really. They’re barely even hurt.
“I’m not done,” says the mage-medic, all stern. The wound itches, the taste of hasty magic gone sour in the back of their throat with all the rest of it. “I might have to find my suturing needle. It isn’t too bad, but it can’t be healed all at once.”
“Piss off,” Pax repeats – and all fucking hell it hurts, and he’s sitting up against the statue, legs lolling. He’s dizzy. He ignores it.
Ocato – his fine clothes sooty, face tight as a wound-up spring – says, “Calm down, please – he’s a skilled healer, he knows what he’s doing.” His eyes keep skipping around the room like he’s searching for another enemy lurking hidden in the shadows. “What happened? Where’s the Emperor?”
Ah – not an enemy, then.
Pax tastes bile.
“Not very quick on the uptake, are you?” she says, elbow braced against the statue’s massive marble claws (she hates touching it, she hates it, she hates it, she wants to set it crumbling apart, she doesn’t want to let anyone else touch it ever again). She can’t stop leaning because then she might topple back down again. Fuck, she needs to keep her head on straight – or lose it altogether, whichever happens faster. Her fingers feel cold. “How’re you going to run an Empire when you’re this fucking clueless?”
Ocato looks them in the face; his brow, high and slanted in that way elves have, furrows. “You’re hurt,” he says, in a tone like he expects Pax to argue with him. “Martin Septim–”
“Can’t you see him?” Pax demands, tone torn in half and uglier than they’ve ever heard it before, and they slam the back of their hand against the stone for echoing emphasis. (They want to shatter all the bones in their knuckles, break every piece in their hand one by one, like wishbones. They want it bloody and bruising. They want to scratch its polished-smooth surface until their fingernails tear. They want – they want – they want –)
Ocato, the Empire’s de facto leader, says, “Ah.”
In his plummy robes, all fruit-rich and stained with ash, he looks very stark against the Temple’s cracked marble floors.
“The Avatar,” he says. “If – the Amulet – joined blood of kings and gods –”
“Ocato,” says Pax, leaning heavy against the statue’s hateful foot, “shut up.” Their voice is bowstring-taut; he looks at them, his eyes too golden to meet. His mouth twists. They tip their head back against the stone, glaring up at the chips of blue sky shown in the crater where the roof once was, and try hard to ignore the tugging ache hooked behind their ribs.
It really fucking hurts. Worse than it did before, maybe, like some gauzy veil has been ripped from it. A veil has been ripped from the world. All the colours are too-bright, hideous. Pax breathes, because there’s no alternative, and waits for the pain to ebb.
(It doesn’t, really.)
“The Gates are sealed,” Ocato says, slowly, and he’s looking at her again, she can see out of the edge of her eye. “We will speak later. I’ll have you put up in the Palace until you’re healed. Ah – Quintus, does –”
“As long as she doesn’t go back into shock,” says the mage-medic, busily flipping through some kind of supply bag at his belt, “her odds are good. Lost blood, but I don’t think anything important was too damaged – get a proper examination, all I did was give her a second wind. Stitches, rest, fluids should do it, with luck.”
“Can she stand?”
“Can or should are –”
“Shut the fuck up,” Pax snaps, “I’m right here.” Her back pressed against the cold marble of the statue, her plait half-loose and knotted, filled with ash. The sky is so fucking blue. It hurts like hell – if the healer took her out of shock, then shit, she wishes he’d put her back in. She can see in too much detail. She can feel the skin, damp and ragged and angry. She presses the heel of her hand to the injury; her palm is crusted with dust, tacky with the same half-dried blood streaked over the floors.
Ocato, in the edges of her vision, shifts, all a blur of rich clothes and sympathetic eyes and solemn voice turned soft like he’s talking to an easily spooked horse. “I know.”
The mage-medic clucks his tongue. “Let me take another look first,” he says, and takes a step forward –
Pax kicks out at him before he even gets close. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
“Pax,” says Ocato – and why, why the fuck is the Empire’s de facto leader here, now, babying them like a whimpering little puppy instead of anywhere fucking else, why is he bothering to talk to them all patronising soft, why does he care? They’ve barely fucking met – talked twice, if you can call either of those times talking. Is it because they’re the Hero of Kvatch? Is this what they’ve earned – a bit of leeway as they throw a tantrum, bleeding out at the marble feet of that stupid bloody statue? Ocato looks so fucking tired; Pax wants to hit him in the nose. “You need care.”
“I need –” and Pax chokes it off in a puff of air. The statue looms behind them. There’s blood on the floors. (Traitor liar coward come back come back I hate you come down I’ll knock your fucking teeth in stupid selfish fraud come BACK. LOOK AT ME.)
Pax closes his eyes.
“My gratitude,” Ocato says, “ – our gratitude for what you’ve done cannot be overstated. The Crisis if over. The gates are sealed. Mehrunes Dagon and his ilk can never threaten Tamriel again.”
The knobs of Pax’s braid are pressing uncomfortably against their scalp. They can hear footsteps, coming closer. They don’t respond.
“It’s a great shame we had to pay such a price,” Ocato says, and Pax would fucking love to know who’s we here, “but it’s done. Dagon is defeated. We’ve won.” He’s much too close, now; his voice pitches softer. “Martin – is dead. But he died an Emperor – and a hero to rival Tiber Septim.”
Pax shoves him.
It’s a good fucking shove – knocks him right to the ground, his elbow hitting the marble with a painfully audible crack, Pax standing over him, shirt rucked up, their handprint on his shoulder marked in blood. “You useless, prattling jackass!” they spit, hoarse, and deal a swift, savage kick to his side. “How dare you act like this is a victory! It should have been me!”
Then their head swims, and they’re sitting again on the edge of the dais, palm pressed to their side, the sweaty cloth of their gambeson pushed half off their shoulder and its cord biting into their hand. The mage-medic is kneeling over Ocato, who still lies, stunned; Pax can’t see his eyes, now, but they remember them, brassy with shocked fear. Their bow is off by the wall where they left it. Pax’s palms are sticky with blood. The sky is so fucking blue. No matter how hard she rages the dragon won’t look down at them.
By the time the mage-medic has helped Ocato up, they’re gone. The Kvatch guard gambeson remains, smoke-smelling and crusted with blood, left like an offering at the statue’s feet. The Hero of Kvatch is never seen again.
#posting these two one after another is. fun :)#I lovee characters that just slightly misunderstand each other. causing pain and suffering for ever and ever#martin goes this will be sad for them... but at least I can apologise before I go. and at least there will be people to care for them#and I will at last atone for my many horrid sins (mostly existing and bearing witness to the terrors)#meanwhile to pax. the only person that cares about them + figurehead for their entire sense of purpose and confidence has abandoned them.#the Big Dragon Statue is apt because when martin died he made himself a monster#both the only good thing in the world and the thing that took it away#pax hates him. hates herself for hating him. loves him. hates herself for loving him. cannot fathom anything she knows to be true#about their relationship#If He Cared About Me He Couldn't Have Done This. so he never cared#so the dragon with its head arched to the sky is insult to extremely literal injury#so I will NOT be comforted or looked after thanks. I will die at your feet cursing your name and failing that I will lash out as hard#as I can and then disappear from historical record#(to go break into a physician's office and stitch himself up. pax says to himself that he's had worse but Worse was also major abdominal#trauma that caused hypovolemic shock. the perspective is skewed)#and everything is so so sad forever THE END thanks for reading :D#oc tag#pax#martin septim#the elder scrolls#tesblr#tes#oblivion#fay writes#my writing#hero of kvatch
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chiropteracupola · 28 days ago
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so my planned Term End Reward was going to be downloading another biggles (you wouldn't download a biggles &c &c) but have just realized I could do latin american revolutions lockdown with the happy return / beat to quarters & sharpe's devil & crucible of gold.
[pained grimace] I'm Going To Have Such Fun.
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ookaookaooka · 2 months ago
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i just spent ages looking for the post, i swear i posted about it when i broke my beloved fish plate like a year ago, but now he's finally back together! i just have to wait a week or so for the resin to cure , and then i can go in and wipe away the excess gold. even though the process was frustrating and VERY time-consuming and i lost motivation halfway through and let it sit on the shelf unfinished for like 14 months, i'm glad i went to the trouble of learning how to actually kintsugi it with resin and gold instead of rushing it with epoxy and mica powder.
the before pics (freshly broken and after the initial gluing):
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#kinda wish i'd gotten pics of him when i'd filled in the voids and done all the coats of resin on top and sanded them down#the different types of resin were different colors and after sanding it had kind of a marbled look#the process basically goes like: filing down sharp edges to create a gap for the gold to show#gluing everything back together with resin mixed with flour and water to make it strong and sticky#filling in the voids with resin mixed with fine sawdust to make it strong (this part took the longest bc you can't put the paste on thickly)#creating a uniform surface with resin mixed with (i think) fine clay powder#creating a smooth finish by alternately painting on layers of pure resin and sanding it down once cured#(the resin will wrinkle if applied too thickly or if it's too humid)#(this is also used to smooth out the rough areas that the resin/clay step couldn't fix)#and finally painting on a final layer of resin and applying gold powder and burnishing it slightly#each layer of resin takes about a week to cure#if my apartment was more humid and if i hadn't lost steam i think this would've taken me... three months#and thats assuming i could work on it every weekend#seriously it's only worth doing if it's a piece you really love#alternatively if you didn't care about looks you could just stop after sticking it together but idk how food safe it would be#ALSO. BIG word of warning.#the uncured resin could give you a really nasty painful rash if you touch it with bare skin#it is not a joke#once it's cured tho it's inert
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boyybites · 6 months ago
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Finished this monster of a ref today and because of this one I'm reworking reference sheet prices so you can pick and choose/build your own for what you need, so if you want a headshot you can add it if ya don't ya don't need one.
Iseul Phan belongs to @faywildimaginal
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icewindandboringhorror · 8 months ago
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sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:
thing that I already do
thing I have tried 10 times
thing I already do
thing that I don't have the money to do
thing I already do
thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail
thing that is impossible given my situation
thing that doesn't apply to me
thing that I already do
thing I have already tried
hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently
thing I have already done
#I think maybe productivity tips help less if the reason you're unproductive is partially like.. physcial health and other extenral things#out of your control. rather than just like having trouble paying attention or spending too much time on tiktok or whatever#all the strategic to do lists in the world are not going to somehow prevent me from waking up with a debilitating migraine or whatever#or having external stressors or lacking resources and connections or other Productivity Essentials etc.#especially many tips involve stuff like 'cut off from social media' since thats the modern day time waster for so many poeple#and it's like.. lol.. i can hardly even maintain a blog even thuogh i actively WANT TO DO SO. 'shut off your smart phone!' already#done babey i fucking hate smart phones i shall never use an app unless i am forced to. 'delete tiktok' yep. already covered. tiktok and#all of those thinsg are my enemies. 'save money by cancelling some of your services' cool. already ahead of you.#who the fuck is out here paying for like 10 different subscription services. pirated videos uploaded to google drive and youtube to mp3#my beloved. etc. etc. and so on. 'socialize less' .........LOL.. if only you knew.. mr.writer of the article. i can barely muster#talking to friends more than once a month and even less if I'm actively sick (often occurence) etc. etc. ... hewoo#I think maybe instead of generic productivity tips I need more like.. how to refocus and be productive anyway even if you have a headache#or are nauseous or etc. Not that those are always things to ignore. and of course you should let your body rest and etc. But plenty of peop#e have mild physical symptoms and just work through them. Ithink something about the way my body/mind is SOO hyper attuned to all#sensory information just makes it like... constantly 'GRR well I cant focus on WRITING right now because my lef#t ear feels weird and my socks are too itchy and my back has a strange pressure and I'm vaguely warm and my eye feels some ssort of#way it doesnt normally feel and I'm hyperaware of my breathing and also nauseous for no reason' and like half of those things I#think '''normal''' people wouldnt even notice or at least would be able to just live through. but for me it's like.. nealry impossible to i#gnore and soooo distracting always. like 'wahh.. nooo we can't draw or get anything done.. my legs feel slightly heavy or something!!'#like............. ok......... who cares. thats not even a PAIN sensation it's just something weird. but it's just like.. NO. constant#mental alerts about the 'heaviness' of your legs be upon ye. Though Imean like.. yes.. 70% of the time I am in genuine pain#or having some sort of actual ailment with trackable physical symptoms. but sometimes it's just like... we could totally be working right#now and ignoring this silly thing but my brain is fixated on it for no reason uncontrollably. etc. etc. I guess it's the same way that like#most people can go to a grocery store without the whole experience being so overwhelming and so much stuff going on at once#that they have to rest afterwards but like.. in my own HOME doing NOTHING i feel like I should be able to not get overwhelmed lol. ANYWAY#Rolling my bastard little rock up a dumbass hill and so on and so forth
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marsuro · 5 months ago
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Attack on StonecoldHammer's band The Flamey Boys! Featuring my punkrock guy bursting in to annoy the hell out of them >:)
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buddietommys · 2 months ago
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"Why not?"
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"I wish you were a girl."
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#hughlander#at first i thought of hughie saying the first quote but the more i thought about it the more it made sense for it to be john HEAR ME OUT..#he was obviously trained to only enjoy the whole “american dream” so ofc that picture perfect look for him would be a woman next to him#while he himself is a piece of shit and cares only about his image he also just doesnt give a shit#(based on his behavior l8r on in the show) he also just doesnt care what anyone has to say especially since in his eyes he is THE strongest#no one can say anything to him and hes untouchable..which is why his odd obsession with hughie will prove to be zero issue#and while he tries to make a connection with hughie in his own overly possesive way hughie holds himself firm with his actions#(lowkey where things gets ooc oh well idc) homelander does try and make SOME sort of attempt in picking at his brain anf at hughie as to#figure out WHY he even is interested in “that loser” and in doing so he eventually finds that hughie for whatever stupid reason#notices that he GENUINELY does care about people and that its not some front like he really does and TRY to see some good in people#so john opens up slightly to him about what people at vought did to him as a kid and its those moments where homelander tries to make it-#light buy hughie looks at him and i mean really /looks/ at him and says “jesus thats fucked Im sorry” and john is absolutely dumbfounded#like so dumbfounded and the god honest yet short comment in regards to him opening up about his past#essentially john starts to feel what he always imagined what “feelings” are supposed to be and after a long time of him and hughie oddly#finding some sort of “middle ground” he tries to pull a move in a moment of odd peace amongst the two and hughie jerks back#john is so confused and i mean REALLY confused#he thought he read all those “signals” right based on the romantic films he was forced to watch why is hughie acting like this?#he doesnt want to even think about what this pain in his chest is and all he can ask is “why not?”
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pergaminaa · 1 month ago
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Modern au
Okay so Manon started taking birth control soon after puberty (it happened when she was 15 but she was already sexually active so she had to be careful) so really, in essence, she only experienced periods a couple of times before she stopped having them altogether.
When she and Dorian decided to conceive, she went off of birth control. Having her period for the first time in over a decade was a jarring experience for Manon. She was in a lot of pain, she was feeling nauseous, she was feeling dizzy and the entire thing was awful.
Dorian called Asterin in panic, because is she supposed to be in so much pain??? Asterin assured him that painkillers, sleep, and hot drinks were all he needed. He was still skeptical though, because that sounded too simple for what appears to be a serious problem.
Needless to say, he was fussing over Manon the whole time. Making sure she's comfortable, timing the painkiller doses, providing all kinds of drinks, and helping her get some sleep in the middle of all of that.
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s-ccaam-era-crepe · 1 month ago
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Anyone have advice for dealing with tooth pain cuz if not I’m gonna bc missing a few teeth in like 10 minutes
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aforgottenthing · 1 year ago
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Do you think Lawrence took up smoking after the bathroom trap?
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