#reminder to myself to not post when i’m half asleep

[glowingsand]

dude’s got like the weirdest hair

[citizen-sade]

Rain Check

Inspired by this text post:

-------

Eddie glanced from his guitar to the digital alarm clock on the side table next to his bed, where he'd been idly strumming for the past hour, not really trying commiting the tune to memory.

He realized the upbeat lyrics of Bruce Springsteen in Steve’s off-key tenor from the bathroom two doors down had trailed off long ago. He vaguely wondered if he’d dozed off again.

Eddie grinned wryly as he recalled learning the hard way about Steve’s singular habit of falling asleep in the shower.

***

He bounced his leg impatiently, eyes darting to the bathroom as the minutes ticked closer to 8:00. Steve had been in there awhile and it was almost time for the Miami Vice marathon.

7:00 turned into 7:15... then 7:30... 7:35... This was stupid. He didn't even like Miami Vice. It was Steve's idea. So, what the hell was taking him so long?

Eddie set the bowl of popcorn on the coffe table before heading down the hallway and rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door, "Dude, what are you doing in there? Did you get lost?"

No answer.

Clouds of steam wafted out the door as he opened it to the sound of running water.

“Goddamn. Hot enough in here for you, Harrington?” he asked as he used the sleeve of his t-shirt to wipe off an area of condensation from the mirror above the sink.

He stared at the reflection of the seafoam green shower curtain behind him, waiting for Steve to peek out and ask him what he wanted, but his stomach sank when that didn’t happen.

“Steve?”

Still nothing. He inhaled deeply to steady his nerves. Dramatic though it may be, he couldn't help but think back to the time he'd discovered a former bandmate in a similar manner, unconscious in a hotel bathtub from an overdose. He was lucky Eddie had found him when he did, the dipshit.

But Steve was different. Steve Harrington wasn't a junkie. Steve Harrington was smarter than that.

Although, it wasn't like he'd given Eddie a comprehensive list of any potential health issues. Not that he'd asked for one.

Eddie licked his lips nervously as he turned towards the bathtub. He sighed, scratching the back of his head.

“Very funny, Harrington."

Nothing.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other before reaching for the shower curtain, half-expecting Steve to jump out at him.

“Ha!" The exclamation hung in the air as Eddie yanked the curtain to the side, revealing the lean, naked form of his boyfriend on the floor of the ceramic tub, slumped against the side.

“Oh, fuck—ohfuck—okay—uh—Hey! Steve! You okay?”

Eddie reached in to shut off the water and sat on the edge of the bathtub to lean over Steve, shaking him gently by the shoulder.

“Shit... shitshitshit... Steve! Hey!" Eddie eyed him with mounting panic, mentally compiling a list of emergency phone numbers, "Wake up, damnit!”

“Mmm—” the jock stirred, his forehead creasing under his dripping hair in annoyance as he mumbled, “five more minutes.”

Eddie stood up and cocked his head in bewilderment, "What the fuck?”

“Wha—” Steve sniffed groggily, “what’s going on?”

Eddie raised his hands to his hips, “Are you kidding me?”

Steve cracked an eyelid to glance quizzically at him, “Oh, hey, Eds. Everything okay?”

The cold air against his wet skin suddenly reminded him of where he was and he looked up at the trickling showerhead, his face reddening as he scrambled to cover himself.

“Oh, damn,” he groaned, running a hand over his face, “did I fall asleep again?”

"Asleep??" Eddie blinked in surprise but sighed with relief, “Again?! Is this a thing you do regularly?”

“I—uh—“

“You scared the shit out of me!”

“Gee, man, I’m sorry—"

"Thought I was gonna have to drag your naked ass out of there myself."

"It’s just a thing I did—do—ever since I was a kid—”

Eddie scoffed playfully, “Well... don’t fuckin' do it again.”

The sheepish grin he received by way of an apology all but dissolved any trace of genuine exasperation. It was a dumb thing to be mad at him for, anyway.

Eddie rolled his eyes and grabbed the towel from where it hung on the wall to throw it at Steve, hitting him in the face.

“Dry yourself off before you get all pruny. The show's about the start!”

***

It wasn't until later, during a moment of intimacy on the sofa, Miami Vice muted in the background and Steve's eyes locked shyly on their intertwined fingers and the prominent veins that traveled up Eddie's forearm, that Steve had explained how he'd adopted the practice of locking himself in the bathroom as a kid. The running water was enough to partially drown out the sound of his parents arguing in the living room, and he would stay in there a little longer each time, allowing the steady rhythm and comfort of the warm water to lull him to sleep—until he would inevitably be startled awake by the sound of his father slamming the front door behind him in a rage, followed by a hurried knock on the bathroom door and his mother yelling from the other side that he was on his own for dinner. Again.

In Steve's defense, he didn't do it every time... and in Eddie's, he couldn't just not tease him mercilessly for it when he did.

Eddie laid his guitar aside. He was careful not to make too much noise as he snuck to the bathroom, expertly opening and closing the door behind him without a single creak. Once again, the only sound to meet his ears upon entering was the hiss of the water.

He slowly drew back the shower curtain to the familiar sight of Steve curled up beneath the steaming water, damp hair clinging to his flushed cheeks.

Eddie smiled fondly at the shallow rise and fall of his chest and heaved an exaggerated sigh, reluctant to disturb the serenity of the moment.

But they had a game to catch. Lucas would be taking inventory of the party from the basketball court, and God forbid he and Steve show up late to anything together. He could hear the obnoxious kissy noises and prying questions now.

Eddie leaned in to wrap his fingers around the cross-handle knob and, with a quick twist, turned it as far to the left as it would go without shutting off completely.

Steve shrieked, cursing incoherently and clambering to shut off the freezing water.

“SHIT!” he panted, eyes wide when he realized he wasn’t alone. In a daze, he grasped the shower curtain to pull it closed, but instead, managed to tear down the metal rod that it hung from. The curtain rod bounced off his head and clattered against the tile as it came to rest in Steve’s lap.

“Gah! Fuck!” he hissed.

Eddie snorted and clamped a hand over his own mouth to keep from laughing as Steve glared daggers at him behind a veil of wet hair, looking like a drowned rat.

A very pissed off drowned rat.

The vision of the so-called King of Hawkins High—usually so smooth; so collected—now fixing him with what was obviously supposed to be an intimidating scowl while sitting naked and waterlogged in his bathtub made Eddie cackle so hard that he had to brace himself against the bathroom sink.

“I’m glad my suffering is so amusing to you,” Steve mocked.

“You should have seen your face, Harrington!” Eddie wheezed as he doubled over at the waist.

Steve blinked and shook his head, tossing his wet hair out of his face.

Eddie's laughter trailed off, “I’m sorry, babe, but you've been in here forever!”

“Oh, shit, you’re right. What time is it?”

“Almost 5:30.”

Steve groaned as he shifted to get his feet under him but failed against the slippery tub floor.

"Damnit, you need to put something in here."

"You mean, like, those... adhesive rubber ducks?"

"Yeah," Steve sneered, "I mean, like, those adhesive rubber ducks."

Eddie watched with glee as Steve made a second attempt to stand and extended his arm, "Don't just stand there, Munson, help me!"

"Okay, okay! Jeez," he grasped Steve's wrist to help him up, only to be yanked off his own feet, falling over the side of the bathtub and into Steve’s lap as he reached up to turn the water back on.

“You dick!” Eddie screeched, "what the hell—" he froze as his words melted into Steve’s mouth.

He instantly relaxed into him, the lukewarm water beating down on them all but forgotten as the tip of Steve's tongue teasingly slid past his lips. Eddie purred against his mouth and Steve withdrew with a cocky smirk. Eddie started as if to protest, but exhaled a heavy breath and hung his head.

“Alright. We're even."

“Mm, let's get you out of these wet clothes,” Steve said, tugging on the hem of Eddie's soaked t-shirt.

“Woah, there, big guy,” Eddie splayed a hand on Steve's chest in a gentle halting motion, “did you forget we’re on a schedule?”

Steve paused, immediately dropping the Casanova act with a petulant huff, “Aw, man!”

Eddie chuckled and pecked him on the cheek as he rose, pulling Steve up with him. He wrung his damp, unruly hair out over the bathtub before twisting to grab a towel and unceremoniously throwing it at Steve’s face. He then grabbed one for himself.

Steve cautiously stepped out of the tub onto the worn plush mat, securing the towel around his waist.

Knowing they couldn’t afford to waste anymore time, Eddie resigned to getting ready in the bedroom so as to allow Steve and his Hair™ their allotted time alone—but not before planting a playful smack on Steve's ass. Steve yelped and grumbled under his breath as he turned to his reflection and the white aerosol can with the picture of Farrah Fawcett that smiled at him from the counter.

Suddenly the door opened again and Eddie peeked in, "Hey, Harrington."

Steve paused mid-spray and rolled his eyes at him in the mirror, "Yeah?"

Eddie clicked his tongue with a wink and the cringiest finger-gun gesture he could manage, “Rain check.”

[roulilia]

reminder for anyone that needs it, DON’T PUT SHIFTING ON A PEDESTAL. i know you love your dr, you want to meet your ccs and it’s probably so much better than this reality but remember that it’s still a reality, your still gonna have times where it gets a bit boring, and your not always going to be the happiest. i made a post last week about detaching and i think it links to this perfectly, if you stop putting your dr on a pedestal and instead become content with what you have in this reality your gonna find it so much easier to detach. i personally hated school and certain things about myself and my life here which in return just made me want to shift badly and i was so attached to my dr, i made this subliminal playlist with self love subliminals and things like that and it’s made me so much more content with both myself and life here like school ain’t even that bad anymore and now i’ve stopped worrying about shifting cause even if i don’t shift i’m still content with my life here, i KNOW i’m going to shift but there’s no rush on WHEN it’s gonna happen.

i also recommend doing things for yourself like really take care of yourself in this reality, if there’s something you’ve always wanted to try then go do it, don’t let shifting and the fact you haven’t shifted hold you back from living life in this reality. idk if anything that i said made sense icl, i’m half asleep but i hope you understand what i mean!

[youngpettyqueen]

wrote something unbearably fluffy and I will be posting it on ao3 tomorrow but I wanted to do something a lil different and post it here. this is because I dont have the energy to do the format editing for ao3 rn but I want people to see it right now immediately

garashir, post-canon Cardassia, short and sweet, fluff that will rot your teeth out. enjoy <3

“Elim?” 

Gentle hands resting on his shoulders rouse Garak from a sleep he didn’t even realize he’d fallen into. He jerks awake with a rather undignified snort, more startled than he’d care to admit as he straightens himself up in his chair. Falling asleep at his desk… he really is getting sloppy.

Those hands squeeze his shoulders gently. He would know that touch anywhere.

“Only me, love,” Julian’s voice murmurs, soft and reassuring, “Didn’t mean to startle you.” 

Garak glances back over his shoulder, wincing slightly at the kink that’s developed in his neck from his awkward sleeping position. “You’ll have to forgive me, my dear,” He replies, offering Julian a tired smile, “I seem to have lost track of the time.”

He takes a moment to give Julian a quick once-over, his eyes heavy with sleep but no less sharp. He looks dishevelled, his hair a mess of loose curls and his jaw lined with a shadow of stubble. He doesn’t have any visible injuries, and his uniform is rumpled, but intact. So today was long, but likely not life-threatening. Good. He’d been worried, before he went and passed out.

Julian smiles back at him, a warm expression, though very tired. The lines under his eyes are deep. “I’ll forgive you, if you forgive me for being so late,” He offers, gently rubbing Garak’s shoulders, “Sorry to have kept you waiting. I was drafting requests for more medical equipment, and lost track of time myself.” He explains.

“How could I ever fault you for such a noble endeavour?” Garak asks, leaning back into Julian’s hands, which are doing wonders for what’s become a permanent stiffness in his shoulders, “I’m sure the staff appreciate your efforts.” His doctor has done marvellously, adapting to working in a Cardassian hospital. It took a couple of crisis situations before the rest of the staff finally took him seriously, but he’s managed to find a place for himself with minimal friction, as far as the hospital staff are concerned. Usually a Human would never have been accepted so quickly, but these are desperate times, and they can seldom afford to turn away such a capable pair of hands. 

“They’ll appreciate it when I actually get the equipment,” Julian replies. He works his thumbs into a knot at the base of Garak’s neck, and Garak all but melts against him, a pleased sound rumbling low in his chest, “Dare I ask what you’re doing with Kukalaka?” 

The question snaps Garak out of his pleased little trance. He glances back at his desk and finds that the bear is, in fact, sitting there, a needle still attached to thread hanging loose from his leg, which is half-sewn to his body. “Ah,” He says, now recalling what he was doing before sleep so unceremoniously claimed him, “Yes, that… well, I was rather hoping to surprise you with that tomorrow…” He hums, feeling a flash of annoyance at his plans being thwarted. 

Julian leans over his shoulder, examining his handiwork. “Oh, Elim…” He murmurs, like Garak has just handed him the world, “You wonderful, wonderful man. You really are too good to me.” He wraps his arms loosely around Garak’s neck, rests his weight against him as he presses his warm cheek to the side of his head.

It never ceases to amaze Garak, just how easy it is to make Julian’s day. The smallest acts have him behaving as if Garak has put the suns in the sky just for him. “Hardly,” He refutes, because he could never be too good for the man who reminds him days after day that good exists in this universe simply by existing, “You may have convinced the little ruffian’s mother that you weren’t upset over Kukalaka being torn asunder, but I know you far better than that. I may not understand the significance of the little fellow, but I would be remiss if I allowed him to remain in tatters when I could easily repair him.” He reasons, and it’s an awfully long way to say I hate to see you sad.

“That little ruffian was all of 3 years old,” Julian points out, a smile in his voice, “And teething, might I add, so understandably cranky. But… thank you,” A warm kiss is pressed to Garak’s cheek, an action that turns him into a puddle of bliss and affection, “I would tell you just how much it means to me, but I’m afraid I’m much too tired to adequately express myself.” He kisses Garak’s cheek again, and nuzzles against him.

Garak hums happily, reaching up to rest a hand on Julian’s arm. “Oh, I don’t know,” He muses, rubbing circles into Julian’s arm with his thumb, “I believe I could infer the depths of your gratitude from, say… more kisses.” He suggests, tilting his head so that he can flash Julian a cheeky grin. 

Julian snorts, buries his face in Garak’s neck as laughter shakes his slender shoulders. When he lifts his head again, he has the loveliest smile lines on his rosy-cheeked face, and the lines under his eyes don’t seem quite so deep anymore. 

“You’re incorrigible.” Julian tells him, earnestly and completely affectionate. 

“Yes,” Garak agrees, “And I do believe you love me for it.” 

“Oh, very much,” Julian agrees, leaning in till his nose taps against Garak’s, “It’s one of your most endearing traits.” 

Garak rubs their noses together, a gesture that is indescribably affectionate and also quite silly. “Tell me again about all those endearing traits of mine?” He requests.

“I’m far too tired for that,” Julian replies, his eyes flicking to Garak’s lips, “I think I’d much rather kiss you silly. Is that an acceptable substitute?” He asks. 

Garak doesn’t respond verbally, just angles his head and pushes up to capture Julian’s lips with his. Julian makes a happy little hum as he kisses him back, and his smile as he presses his lips to Garak’s again and again says more about his gratitude and his love than any string of words ever could. 

[delopsia]

I usually don’t send in requests cause I don’t want to be a bother but I saw your post about you wanting requests so I was wondering if you have any Rhett Abbott headcanons? Like just in general of what he likes or certain habits he has. I really loved what you wrote about him loving to snack and Bob loving chicken sandwiches lol. You write both Rhett and Bob really well so I’m always interested to hear your takes on either one of them! 💕

aaaa hello lovely! :D I absolutely have some headcanons for ol' Rhett 💃💕I had to limit myself because otherwise, the list would roll right out the damn door.

✧˖° General Rhett Headcanons

Rhett has a hard time sleeping alone. No matter how exhausting the day has been or how long he's been awake when his head hits the pillow at night, nothing happens.

Late-night drives are one of his go-to cures for those sleepless nights. Hell, half of the time, he doesn't even try to get in bed; he just grabs his keys and hits the road. It's hard telling where the road will take him, but he'll be out there until he's either low on gas or the road has finally lulled him into sweet, sweet drowsiness.

On the rare occasion his drives don't work, he takes a blanket and lays on the haystack outside his horse's stall. Company is company, and sometimes a little shut-eye is worth the ache in his neck when he wakes up in the morning.

But the moment his significant other is in the room with him? He's out cold. He's out cold. He can spend an entire night struggling to sleep, only to fall asleep the moment he knows they're in the room.

That being said, it also works if he's not even in bed. One moment he's leaned against the fridge sipping his coffee, then you walk in, and he's sleeping standing up. He will stay like that if you let him.

Royal got Rhett into using tobacco when he was around fourteen, and Cecelia hated it so much that she offered to help Rhett buy the horse he had his heart set on in exchange for him quitting.

Now, he has a nervous habit of taking invisible dip out of his lip. It's the only thing he never broke himself out of doing, primarily because he hardly realizes he's doing it.

Rhett's got a sweet tooth bigger than he is. From sweet tea to just straight-up eating packets of sugar when he can't scavenge anything out of the pantry if it's sweet, he loves it. Royal and Perry give him hell for it, but Rhett drinks his coffee just as sweet as his tea.

He still has most of his childhood toys and stuffed animals. There's a box of toys beneath his bed, and those old, dusty plushies reside on the high shelf of his closet.

When he's drunk, Rhett gets his heart set on things. Sometimes he just wants a particular food; others, he wants a certain object. A rock he found on the floor, that obscurely tiny pen on the end of the table, the keychain he saw in the store two-weeks ago.

Once, he drunkenly wobbled all the way up the stairs and practically crawled under his bed because a conversation had reminded him of those old Power Rangers he used to play with.

May or may not have fallen asleep on the floor, with the toys scattered next to him and one clutched in his hand.

Doesn't speak unless you directly address him, especially in group settings. Sometimes Rhett gets so content with listening that he just...forgets that he can contribute to the conversation.

It's relatively easy to bring Rhett to tears; he's the first to get glassy-eyed during a sad movie, and his heart breaks a little when it comes time to send the cattle off to market. But it takes years of trust for him to let you see those tears, and even then, he tries to deny it.

Secretly very talented in welding. He took the classes as a high school elective, and it's a skill that's morphed into a hobby. On the rare instance that he has free time, Rhett's busy welding scrap metal together. The attic is filled with boxes upon boxes of trinkets he's made; do you want a tractor made out of a bunch of junk nuts and bolts? He's got plenty.

Sometimes? He just? Winds up on the floor? One minute he's supposed to be working, the next, he's lying on your kitchen floor. He usually doesn't know why, either; he just felt like being there.

Chews on the inside of his cheek when he's nervous. If it's quiet enough, you can usually hear the soft clicking of his teeth as he does it.

Confident when he's out in the country, shy puppy dog anywhere else. He's oozing confidence when he's out in those old fields, from tagging calves to dodging their pissed-off mommas, but the moment you take him away from what he's familiar with? His tail is between his legs. Quiet, glued to your side, and following your lead.

Always does this thing where he crouches and gets surprised when the spurs on his boots dig into his ass. Twenty years of wearing them, and he still hasn't learned.

Absolutely got in trouble for not taking his spurs off when he was in high school. He just forgets they're there until someone makes a comment.

[average-kitty]

A Unlikely Monster 🩸(3)

chapter 3

Word Count: 1.3K

warnings: Death of unknown person, description of blood

A/N: Not sure if I’m gonna continue ASB, I’ll have to rethink the plot so it’ll be delayed on posting rn

Wednesday walked back to her shared dorm to find Enid so she could have her remove whatever poisoned her mind and- most importantly, make her feel sorry for doing… whatever this is to her. Wednesday opened the dorm room and closed it behind her, Enid dead asleep on her bed, fingers twitching about. She looked like an actual dog when she was like this- but that wasn’t the point.

Wednesday shoved Enid’s shoulder causing Enid to jump from her slumber, rubbing her eyes and yawning as she looked up to Wednesday. “Wednesday? You’re back already…?” “Cut to the chase, what did you do?” Wednesday snapped “What do you mean?” “You know what I mean, what you said earlier.” Enid sat up on her bed, stretching out and fixing her hair “Wednesday I’ve been sleeping since you left- you’re gonna have to remind me.”

“What you said about Y/N- you did something to me, with those words…” She hissed “It’s like Im being slowly turned into- a weaker version of myself-“ Wednesday muttered, taking a second to really understand what she was saying. Enid gave her a sad smile with a slight chuckle “Wednesday- you’ve just got a soft spot from her is all…” Enid reassured her, holding her arms out to offer Wednesday a hug. Wednesday was incredibly hesitant but she let give her a hug,  leaning into it a bit. “You don’t have to be afraid-“ “I’m not.” Wednesday retorted. “Alright- you don’t have to worry about getting caught off guard…” Enid replied, Wednesday giving a light nod.

Meanwhile you were just hanging out with Thing, trying to learn how the heck Wednesday understood what he was saying half the time, so since you couldn’t understand him, you both decided to play checkers (you demanded to play checkers instead of chess because you found it more fun, but in short you didn’t know how to play chess.) You had trapped Thing’s last King, giving him a small smirk. “You can just give up…” you snickered at him, Thing making a fist in frustration- though something else caught your attention. A certain smell… the mouth watering smell of fresh blood, you hadn’t had any for months. You refused to go out and bite anyone or any animals, which should’ve been planned out better… Though that didn’t matter, now you were just hungry, you got up from the table you no Thing were sat at, making your way to the back of the library, exiting from the back door. The smell just carrying you, enticing you further, leading you to the woods of Nevermore… Thing tried to follow behind you, though he stopped once you walked out of view of the outside of the wooded area.

Wednesday was still talking with Enid, trying to figure out why she was feeling those feelings of weakness when she was with you. Though she was making it particularly difficult- denying any form of interest in you, though that was all interrupted by Thing knocking on the door, being met by Wednesday and Enid opening it. Thing frantically tapped against the floor, Wednesday’s eyes widening a bit “They went into the woods?” Wednesday asked with a genuinely confused tone, Enid glancing over to the window looking out to the woods. “We’ve gotta go find her at least.” Enid said as Wednesday gave a nod, she couldn’t believe she actually cared if you got hurt out there, usually she couldn’t care less, but something about how you were able to outsmart her and make your presence known so easily intrigued her. She couldn’t let you die yet, or get hurt unless it was head doing it. That was for sure.

The smell of blood kept tempting you further and further into the woods, it was like you were cast under a spell, one that mocked you of your desperate desires and hungers. It continued to pull you further, its scent inviting you, enticing you… you wanted to break away from the hypnotizing smell that filled your lungs- but you couldn’t. It had been too long since you had gotten your fill of blood you ever so needed. You continued to follow the intoxicating smell, stumbling on a few rocks and roots of tall old trees, but you felt like nothing could stop you- nothing at all. After a few meters or so the smell finally became a lot more clear, sure you considered it but you didn’t expect it at all- the blood was in fact from a normal human.

You stepped closer, hiding yourself amongst the shadows provided by the large tree’s branches and leaves, watching the person carefully. They looked like someone from the town, just some random guy you had seen a couple of times when you visited. Though as you looked closer you could clearly see what was causing his blood to spew- his foot had been caught in one of the various bear traps set around the borders of the fences that held everything in and out of Nevermore, he was most likely trespassing due to how frantic he was to try and get out. You took a small quiet step forward, your eyes illuminated by the setting sun causing the boy to perk up, fear and anxiousness written all over his face. “Get away you-You MONSTER!-“ you were about to take another step but you stopped- of course he would call you a monster, that’s what you were. But… it hurt a lot more than you were expecting, he was just a stranger- someone who knew nothing about you at all and yet, he saw you as one from first glance.

You wanted to turn back around and just walk away, away from the whole situation you had just been put in- but the smell of his blood… it tugged at you, just begging you to come closer and get a better smell, maybe even a taste. You didn’t want to hurt him, no not at all, but those words- the fear in his voice- it felt like it was making it harder. You took another step forward, stepping out of the casted shadows around you, the boy struggling to get away from you, trying to crawl away- but with his leg stuck in the trap there was nothing else he could do. You kept taking small steps forward until you were only about a foot away from him, the scent was so strong, a mix of fear and agony, pulling you further away from your common sense you felt you’d never loose and into that desire to fill your ever growing hunger and thirst…

It felt like a blur- one second you were yourself, the next you were holding the boy down as he frantically tried everything he could to get you off of him, throwing a few good punches to your face but that didn’t stop you- it felt like you were dying from being so close to what you wanted and quite frankly needed, you knew he was about to try and throw another punch- so as he did you let your fangs dig into his arm, piercing his skin and ripping it as he tried to pull away. The scream of pain from him filled your head as his words just repeated in the back of your head.

Monster.

Monster.

MONSTER.

You don’t remember much of what happened next, your head was spinning as you finally pulled your fangs out of his neck, leaving what little of remaining blood pour from his neck. You were covered in a mixture of your own blood and his- your nose dripping with your blood as your lips dripped with his. You took a shaky inhale as you looked at the gruesome scene you left- you tried to stand to your feet but you couldn’t, you just stumbled back away from his body. You didn’t mean to do it, you didn’t want to- it was an accident…

Monster.

Thats what you were, nothing more than a blood thirsty Monster…

[marydswitchduet]

Days off and Diapering Up, Don’t Start your Engines - 9/29

What Did we Do

Mommy had to work today, but I was home and wore one of my pull-ups most of the day.

When she got home, mommy had me switch out with a Little Kings. Mommy was wearing a negligee 🤤

I laid down and mommy teased and made my nipples super sensitive. She sucked them, flicked, and twisted them. After that she made me my diaper into

After that, mommy got some whipped cream and sprayed it on the front and back of my diaper. It felt good for a minute but COLD. She had me use my diaper after that and she teased me. I was upset at being embarrassed so I mouthed off.

Mommy had me kneel in the corner instead. I had to make pee pee and then kneel til mommy said otherwise. Mommy using my posts and reposts against me. I had a couple of reposts about little punishments and stuff.

I kept back talking which made my punishment longer. She had me kneel deeper and with my back straighter. I have a long spine so holding that longer is more painful

2 minutes, it felt like 20! But mommy said I could get up. She reminded me that I needed to get used to that punishment, especially if I’d be in a sub position before being used as mommy’s toy.

But she said since I’m a diaper boy, that prolly won’t be happening for a while. If at all. Meep. I used my diaper a few more times for pee pees, I didn’t need to mess. Sounds like I may be going back into chastity for a while. I would’ve appreciated my last cummies more. Even if it was without permission!

I sat down again and mommy made a comment about how smelly my diaper is and squishy. The whipped cream was absorbed in with the pee pee. I couldn’t smell it, which made me feel even worse.

Before mommy started to fall asleep, she told me that I need to stay in my smelly wet diaper until midnight, 1.5 hours away when she told me.

After that, she added More whipped cream, it was so cold and there wasn’t as much Sap to absorb everything anymore since I wet the diaper quite a few times and I’d broken my drinking seal. Mommy ordered me to run her feet before she went to bed I tried to sit down and almost squished out of my diaper. So embarrassing, even more so as mommy laughed at me.

Thankfully I got a towel to sit on. My diaper squished more and it felt kind of gross, but also nice for half a second. Still cold AF

I finished mommy’s feet and still had about 10 mins to go. I stood awkwardly watching bobs burgers til the clock struck 12. Im finishing this right before I’m about to go shower and clean myself off.

If im abitious, maybe I’ll shave but idk. Gonna clean up and diaper back up with a cheaper supermarket diaper and just enjoy my time off til I sleep.

How did it feel?

It was nice to be in my pull-up most of the day. Even going out n about a little I felt better about it than I have in the past.

It was nice to be in my Little Kings again, even just the smell is amazing. I think I just want to savor them, almost because of cost and rarity.

May see if I can find some north shores perhaps. I enjoy my good nites but they are better for in between than actually use for me.

I feel the enjoyment of this and wanting to suffer, consensually prior to scene, and to feel this lack of control in work that involves such detail and major controls

I think I enjoyed mommy’s laugh and the humiliation that came with it. I felt embarrassed but also enjoyed it?

It was also nice to have my little space time or being small and helpless and just have some time being diapered up and casual. I find I enjoy both together and on their own

I hope I can give them both time

What I want more/less of in current dynamic?

Chastity, with a cage or something similar. Interested in some supplies found on temu

I know there’s more but can’t think of what

Things I’m enjoying

I liked having to sit in my mess, the whipped cream was cold. I wonder if shaving cream may be absorbed less and make the inside of the diaper more slick

Posting pictures, I love when mommy sends me some. I’m jealous and don’t wanna share, but I know mommy is also already sharing with a friend, more audibly and physical glancing teases than anything physical

But still, even though I want mommy to be appreciated and I would still be greedy and get to keep mommy I’m just greedy.

Maybe after a photo shoot or two things may change. Or mommy could just not care and decide I don’t have any control or say at all

[angel-shaw]

First draft of my Magnus Archive Fic!

This is the first “chapter” of my first TMA fic:) I am still working on it and I haven’t edited this at all yet but I really want some input and praise:3

I started this fic off of a dream that my TMA obsessed bf begged me to wright. I haven’t reached the main part that I am super excited about yet so expect more! For those who read this let me know if I should post this as a multi chapter fic and post this rn to Ao3 or if I should wait till I am done with it:)

Summary - Tim and John are trapped in a concrete room inside the Achrives, Nether knows what happened or how to get out so they have no choice but to sit in their together. (Takes place after season 1 and definitely before season 3, might make it so Sasha is fine because I can )

Currently at 8016 words:)

Tw: being trapped, paranoia, etc kinda stuff (lemme know if more needs to be tagged :). )

“Tim,” John said, shaking his counterpart.

“Tim you need to wake up, food is ready and you need to eat it hot.”

Underneath several thick blankets John heard heard tim mumble something along the lines of

‘I’m cold, fuck off.’

John sighed.

“I know your cold Tim but the warm food will help with that, please i don't want to fight you on this every time.”

The blankets shuffled quickly and John flinched back as Tim pulled the blankets down from his, very tired looking, face.

“Then don't! Leave me be! Why do you even care John? It's not like anything can be done about this so why not do what you've always done and either leave me alone or go speculate about whether or not I'm some possessed version of myself who will randomly decide to try and kill you for some obscure reason only you understand in a corner?!”

John stood frozen for a few seconds as Tim glared at him. When Tim started to shiver despite the blankets it snapped John out of his stupor. Instead of responding he instead held a hot bowl of soup out for Tim to take.

“This should help,” John whispered as Tim frowned.

It took a minute but Tim shifted to prop himself against the wall and took the bowl.

John took his own bowl and sat a little ways away from Tim as they both ate in silence.

This was their routine, minus Tims outburst normally. For the last 2 weeks Tim and John have been trapped in this room. It reminded John of the archival room without the shelves and boxes of statements. A stone room with no windows and only one door. John couldn't even remember how he and Tim had gotten there. He couldn't explain why they were stuck in there and even less of a clue where the food and resources came from. It felt like some kind of thing fucking with them. Giving them what they need to survive but not to get out.

At first he and Tim argued a lot, both scared and confused. Johns added paranoia didn't help that ether and seeing as how they were stuck together now 24/7 they had plenty of time to fight. That was until Tim started to get sick, it was so easy for John to notice the change. Tim started to shiver, at times John could even hear his teeth chattering. He stopped moving around the room and just stayed curled up under his blanket. One night John had waited till Tim had fallen asleep and threw his own blanket on top of Tims shivering form. The days following John had asked Tim if he was alright but was met with hostility. And that's how it had been the past week and a half. When Tim stopped eating John took it upon himself to make sure Tim had food to eat. He noticed when he ate Tim stopped shivering for a time so he made sure there was almost always a hot food for Tim to have when he started to violently shiver.

John and Tim rarely talked because it seemed it could only lead to another fight. So the silence the two fell into well eating no longer felt awkward.

When Tim placed his bowl down onto the stone floor he immediately withdrew into the two blankets.

“Do you want more?”

A muffled mumble.

Because John couldn't hear him he decided to move closer. He scooted up to the blanket and leaned down.

“What was that?’’

The entire blanket flinched and before he knew it a flash a pain shot through his nose. John flinched back and cried out, bringing his hands up to his face.

John's eyes were shut tight and he could feel the tears welling up behind his eyelids. He was too preoccupied feeling a hot wet liquid start to run down his hands and wrists to notice Tim and sat up and threw the blankets off of himself.

“Oh holy shit! John, I didn't realize you got so close. What the hell where you doing?! Shit are you ok? Oh holy fuck thats alot of blood. Shit shit SHIT! Here uhh just, just stay here. I'll go and find something, oh fucking hell theres so much blood’” Tims rant could barely be heard by John who was still sitting in shock and pain.

A few seconds later John felt Tims strong hands envelope his own, distantly he could hear Tims voice. It sounded…calmer than usual? No, not calmer… nicer.

“John come on, lemme see.”

John could feel his head shake, there weren't any real thoughts going through his mind really so he didn't know why.

“Hey come on, I kinda know how to fix it….a little…I won't make it worse at least.”

John felt his head shake harder. He really needed to stop doing that. It made his head hurt and him feel dizzy.

“Come on John, please let me help.”

Finally John let Tim pull his hands down, his eyes still shut tight and still in an immense amount of pain.

“Shit…Ok here,” Tim's voice was quiet as he started wiping around the nose, clearing some of the blood before holding it to John's face firmly.

“See that's not too bad right? We got this…no problem.”

Tim took a deep breath, “Ok John can you hear me?”

Again John could distantly feel himself nod, nothing felt real.

“Good, good. Ok so this next bit is gonna sting like a bitch right? It will be over quick though ok? Can I?”

Another nod, what was he even agreeing to?

And then the grasp on the cloth over his nose became much firmer before there was a loud crack and a fresh wave of pain with an overwhelming nausea flowing through him.

“Fuck!”

He could hear a lot clearer now, so much so that he could hear the hiss of Tim sucking air through his teeth.

“See,” Tim meekly tried, “Wasn't too bad ay?”

John finally opened his eyes, he could still feel how wet they were and to his displeasure he could feel that wetness stream down his face. Tim was still sat in front of him holding his nose with a weird look on his face.

It was a look John couldn't quite place, he had never been the best at reading people. Somehow always coming to the seemingly worst concussion possible.

“You ok John?”

Tims voice was quite soft, it was something John had noticed. Whenever Tim spoke to others, others like the random people who visited the archive or the food attendees at the outings he was forced to go on. He would question why talking to Tim made those people feel better, or at least good judging by their smiles. Now that that softness was directed at him he understood why those peoples smiles got bigger. He wanted Tim to keep talking to him like that.

“John?”

John looked up at Tim, still in shock from Tim REBREAKING HIS NOSE.

“Did you just break my nose..?”

Tim shifted uncomfortably, “Ya I'm sorry, I had to set it so it won't heal wrong…”

“That really hurt, like a lot….It still really hurts”

“Here just hold the cloth to it for now and the bleeding should stop soon, plus the pressure might help with the pain. It's what i did when i broke my nose”

John stared at Tim increadisully but talking moved his nose and made it hurt more so he decided to stay quiet.

Until he looked down and saw how much blood there was everywhere.

—----------

Tim watched as he saw John's breathing get faster, his eyes were huge as he looked at his hands and arms. The blood was still wet and dripping down his arms to the stone floor.

“John?”

No response from him, John didn't even look up at him.

“Jonathan, man are you ok?”

Again, no response. Faster breathing, it was starting to freak Tim out. Was John having a panic attack? Sure Tim had seen plenty, hell just working at the Archive meant a lot of people who were giving statements had a lot of them. John though, he was always so…well not really confident but he held himself in a way that made him seem untouchable.

Tim had seen him with his paranoia but it was never like this, he was always looking for a way to fix whatever he was paranoid about, even if he was bluntly wrong and being stupid. This…this was so different. John was panicking, worse than the panic Tim had seen during the Worm incident. Why was a broken nose worse than a worm burrowing itself into his skin?????

“John!”

Nothing.

“John, look at me.”

Tim was still holding the cloth, John had never reached his hands back up to take it himself. He was too busy…working himself into a panic attack???

Tim used that to his advantage, he tilted John's head up until his eyes shot to him.

“It's ok, you're ok. Nothing really happened right? You're all good. The pain will go away soon, you just need to breathe.”

John shook his head and looked back down at his hands.

“Is…is it the blood freaking you out?”

John didn't reply but as Tim contoured to follow his eyes he was pretty sure he was right.

“Shit ok, umm here, John.. John!”

John startled to look back up at Tim, he really did look panicked. Shit….

“Look John, just close your eyes ok? I'll take care of it. Come on, just close them. I'm not going anywhere…it's not like i can really, But I swear i'll take care of it”

John finally squeezed his eyes shut again, his breathing was still way too fast but it seemed like he was trying to calm that down so that was good.

Tim wasn't quite sure what to do after that. Now that he knew what the major problem was he should try to fix it right? But he was still holding on to John's nose so he couldn't go to the sink to get anything to help so what the hell was he going to do?

It was really cold out from his blankets, not as cold as before but still. He might fight John on it but the warm food really did help. John was so confusing, one day he was acting like Tim would snap and go on a random killing spree and now he was…trying to help him? It didn't make any sense.

Then Tim had an idea.

“Hey John, can you stand up?”

John nodded his head slowly.

“Ok good, well I need you to stand, I'll be right here k? You don't have to open your eyes, i'll lead you where we need to go.”

John nodded again. It took another moment for John to try to start standing, he almost fell and grabbed onto tims arms to stabilize himself.

Shit he has a weak ass grip-

“Hay it's alright,” Tim said quietly, “You can hold onto me.”

John's hands somehow ended up on Tims side as he stood, the two of them stood there letting balance be regained before struggling to move around the room.

—-----------

It was hard to stay standing with his legs shaking but he could feel Tims free hand helping to hold him up as they shuffled somewhere.

Where were they going? It couldn't be far of course, the two had stuck in this one room for what felt like so long now. Unless Tim had been lying and he had known a way out this entire time. What if all this was a plan?

No he was being unreasonable, he knew Tim. Tim wouldn't.

Before he could think anymore on it he heard tims muffled voice again.

“Ok I'm gonna lean you again here kk? Just lean here and I'll clean you up.”

John just nodded again.

See? He thought to himself. Tims good, Tim wouldn't lie like that. As prickly as he had been he hadn't done anything wrong and he was stuck here too.

Jonathan had always struggled with paranoia, he always needed someone or something to blame for everything. Even if it was himself that at least gave it a reason to happen, it gave an explanation he could wrap his head around. But when something he didn't understand or explain happened he always tried to reasonably put the blame onto someone. That someone just tends to be who else was with him. Even hard evidence against his accusation did little to rest his mind.

It had gotten worse over the years, working at the institute had started to help. Sure the stuff he knew was real was terrifying and he wished it were not, hense his dismissal of the cases, but they gave explanations. It gave him an odd sense of calm, knowing that. But the second something happened that he couldn't explain, something that just possibly could have been one of his coworkers, he fell deep into a rabbit hole of mistrust and dishonesty. His pariona got so bad, he knew it affected his coworkers in negative ways, because they told him. Tim expressly got fed up with his actions.

In the time Tim and himself had been stuck John had started to try and think his way through his paranoia. That was hard when his tactic was to blame something and the only thing he could think of at first was the one he was trapped with. But eventually he noticed his parinona of Tim go down. It really started when he noticed how sick Tim had gotten. It sprung something in his mouse brain that it just couldn't be Tims fault, Tim was sick and needed help. It started to override his paranoia.

At least of Tim. Everything else though was fair game. The vent? Something was in it. The wall? More worms.

There were multiple nights where John stayed up and checked every coroner of the room for something, anything. But night after night he found nothing.

Now everytime he had some paranoid thought about Tim it seemed so much easier to work through it. It was a nice change, being able to work through it.

And now Tim was running warm water and slowly wiping John's own blood off of him. Honestly John was surprised Tim didn't just leave him sitting there on the floor in his own panic bubble. But distantly, he knew Tim wouldn't do that, couldn't. Tim was so kind, even when they yelled at each other Tims concern for John seemed so obvious. Though the anger and everything, it was still clear Tim was worried about John. Just like he was worried for everyone else.

John could feel the warm cloth down his arm, it was soothing. Tim was still holding his nose, it must have been getting annoying.

So John lifted the arm Tim wasn't currently working on and tried to take the cloth himself. His eyes were still closed but he could swear he heard Tim jump when his hand touched his.

“ i can hold it..,’’ John said quietly. It felt like talking too loudly would break whatever was happening right now. And John didn't want that.

—------------

Tim was in fact shocked when John's hand grabbed his own, he was so focused on trying to get the blood off with only one hand that it caught him off guard.

But he let John hold up the cloth and was finally able to use both hands. John's breathing had evened out a lot, Tim hadn't noticed at first but as he worked he could feel John taking long deep breaths. It was the first time Tim had actually seen John even try to self regulate.

That was one thing about John that pissed Tim off, it always seemed as though he just let his pariona dictate everything. He never even seemed to try and reason anything, just letting the fear take over and start running everything. It was good to know John COULD chill himself out a bit.

Tim continued to wash John’s arm off before rinsing the cloth and continuing. There really was a lot of blood, it was suppressing John hadn't fainted or something. Sure when he stood he was wobbly as all hell but being dizzy was expected.

The two of them stood in silence for a while, Tim at one point lifting John's free hand up to hold the cloth so he could clean the other but it was a comfortable silence.

John's eyes, despite still being closed, looked much more relaxed than just a few minutes prior. Granted the dark circles that came with a broken nose were starting to show, Tim frowned at that even after his nose had healed those bruises would probilly stay there for quite a while. Tim thought about it for a second longer, overall they weren't too much different from John's massive eyebags he had all the time. Given the nights Tim knew he had been staying up just walking around the room muttering to himself.

That was another thing about John Tim noticed, he talked to himself a lot. Not in a creepy way like in movies, ok well sometimes, but mostly it felt like he was just trying to think. Like just saying his thought process out to make sure it sounded right. There was once he had heard one of John's tangests when he thought he alone and John had said something, stopped and said “well that didn't make sense” it was quite funny. Probably would have been funnier if Tim hadn't been so upset with him at the time.

Only when John's arms were clean did Tim break the silence.

“Here John, your arms are clean. Lemme see if the bleeding stopped.”

John still didn't say anything, just wincing as Tim pulled the bloody rag away from his face.

Tim winced, “Ya…no keep that there im gonna get some toilet paper.”

As he walked away Tim heard John mutter something under his breath so he wheeled himself around on his heel. He felt himself getting angry, he was trying to help him and John was still making comments and shit?? God this was why he stopped respecting him, all his damn paranoia and bullshit.

“What.” It wasn't really a question, whatever John’s answer he wasn’t going to like it. So technically it could be considered a trap.

John of course didn’t notice the massive shift in Tims face as his eyes were closed, but he did hear the change in his voice.

“Thank you, I said, this hurts, a surprising amount actually. I don’t think I’d know what to do if you weren’t helping me….so thank you”

For once, for once in the entire damn time Tim had known him, John said something right.

Tim immediately felt stupid for getting mad so quickly. He might not understand what the hell John’s switch up was about but it pissed him off.

“Right.”

Even if he was wrong he was still annoyed, none of this made sense, if anything John suddenly tried to help him or whatever this upset him more. Hell the only reason he was helping him right now was because he panicked once he heard the crack of John’s nose.

—-------------

John held his nose until Tims bigger hands pulled his own away. Quickly John felt the wads of toilet paper touch him as Tim tried to shove them up his still bleeding nose.

As it stood, his nose still hurt like hell evidently. So John flinched hard, abruptly pulling back from Tim. Even more unfortunately, the sink he was leaning most of his weight on was not big. So when he flipped back he had thrown his weight into….well nothing.

All the shit people said about falling in slow motion, was in fact just that, shit. John didn't have any time to process he was even falling before he felt Tims arms wrap around his waist. John by all definition was a small man, he knew that, but when Tims arms were so solidly wrapped completely around his waist he /felt/ small.

“Shit! Fuck I'm sorry are you good? Well obviously not, fucking duh. Shit here, Im just gonna….uhh…I'm gonna get you over on the chair that way you don't rocket yourself on the floor ya?”

Johns face was burning again, strangely not just around his nose, but it must have been from irritating it. He made and tried to help make it at least not a struggle to move him, which was hard considering his legs were not planted on the ground, tangled between Tims.

Somehow Tim was able to move him without ended with both of them on the floor. John's only real thought during the short journey was that Tim didn't radiate heat like most did, he wasn't cold per say but he missed the warmth someone would expect.

“Damn you're warm, you know that?”

“Hmm?”

John was pulled from his thought by Tims comment’ “I think you’re just cold”

Tim sat John down on the wooden chair.

Tim rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “ nah I think it's you”

John hadn't realized it but he had finally opened his eyes. His own arms weren't covered in blood thanks to Tim. Tims arms however were not so clean. He had been trying to help John stop freaking out and gotten blood, John's blood, all over him.

“Oh shit! Right, you're still bleeding; give me a sec!”

John honestly hadn't noticed his nose still leaking blood down his face until Tim reminded him, he lifted his hand to catch the blood but before his could Tim was back and stopping him.

“Put your damn hand down. I just cleaned your amsnup I don't need you fucking that up already. Ok it looks like I set it ok so it should be good.”

“Ya did hurt a lot by the way”

“Ya I know, I'm sorry. I mean if you would have rather it healed in the wrong place we could have left it but I figured if I just did it then…” Tim trialed off, he had an odd look on his face.

“ No no,that was uh fine. It hurt though. How did you know to do that? I figure it's not something you just picked up from tv….at least I hope not.” John tried to joke, but he really really hoped that Tim didn't just do that just because of a bad tv show.

“Haha ya, I umm, I broke my nose quite a lot as a kid so I learned how to handle it. If I'm being honest I did originally try it because of the show…it was a really bad cop sitcom that I watched all time.”

“You watched sitcoms?” It genuinely caught John off guard, he expected Tim to watch a bunch of horror or something like that.

“There a problem with that?”

“No no of course not, I just… didn't expect it”

—------------------

As they talked Tim noticed that it seemed to draw Johns attention away from his injury. Would he normally talk about stuff like this to him? No of course not, hell if he tried John probably would have had a paranoid delusion about it or something and accuse Tim of being a clone or some shit like that.

But if tim helped keep him calm, and he wasn't going to freak out over it, fine.

He started to clean Johns face as he talked. He tilted John's face back and actually managed to get the paper in his nose without a mass spasm this time.

“Ya, normally it's not my kind of thing but I watched it a lot when I was younger. The….uh..guys I hung out with could tolerate it and it didn't make me cry so it was always on. Heh, I love the show. It's actually pretty funny, not accurate but I get enough action with cops nowadays that I don't need accuracy about ‘em” Tim laughed.

He could see John's smile, Tim distantly thought it would be better without all the blood.

“That's…nice. ,my grandmother wished I would get into a show. It could never keep my attention for long. I was better with books.”

This was weird, this entire thing was weird. John being civil and…nice. The two of them talking casually about things Tim had never told anyone. It wasn't like Tim was telling John everything that was part of it but John now knew more than anyone else and it was so casual. The two of them had been stuck in this place for what, 2 weeks now? And now here the two of them were, talking after Tim had broken his nose.

“Never had the time to read books, I uh, got busy alot so shows where a lot easier you know?”

“That's fair enough.”

Tim finished cleaning John's face and backed up,” there you go, you gonna have raccoon eyes for a while.”

John's head tilted to the side, holy shit he looked like a….a confused puppy.

“Racoon eyes?”

Tim laughed, he couldn't help it, “ ya when you brake your nose for the first time you get bruised around your eyes and they look like the face of a raccoon. It hurts but it looks cool once they heals a bit. I probably still have a picture of me with ‘em somewhere actually.”

John already had the circles forming around his eyes, they were gonna get a lot darker in the next few hours but they should clear up pretty quick.

“I see, well thank you for telling me. I'm sure it would have been quite a nasty shock to see that in the mirror with no warning.”

“Ooooooh ya” Tim laughed’ “ the first time it happened to me the guy who broke my nose had to burst into the bathroom to see why I was sobbing after I saw, God that was a daaaay. Hurt like a bitch.”

Tim saw Johns frown, he obviously saw the problem in Tims word and for a second Tim really thought he was going to ask and he would have to shut the entire conversation down because he fucked it up.

But instead John just kept it going, “ Well I'll try to keep my shock to a minimum to not startle you then.”

Tim smiled.

—------------

John saw the change in Tims demeanor when he had said that, if there was one thing John was good at t was avoiding conversations. Sure he was curious and a little worried but it wasn't any of his business. It was Tims life and childhood, whatever had happened he was fine now so there wasn't any need to push it.

It was then when John saw the blood on Tims shirt. It made Johns chest tighten, that was one of Tims favort shirts, and quite frankly one of the only peaces of clothing's he hadn't the moment well trapped in the room.

“Oh Tim your shirt…”

Tim looked down, apparently also having forgotten he was covered in Johns blood.

“Damn it! Oh fuck that sucks. I don't think I have another shirt clean…”

John had been cleaning what he could and for some reason it seemed that the cloths they put in the laundry basket occasionally got cleaned but it seemed to be at random times and if Tim said he didn't have another he didn't.

“Damn…I liked this shirt to. Ya think I’ll be able to get the blood out?”

Tim was back to rubbing his neck, like it was a nervous habit or something. Most of the blood has dried and because Tim’s shirt was a relatively light color there was little hope for it.

So John shook his head, “I think you got it on your neck…”

“Hmm? How the hell would I have gotten it on my neck??….oh..”

Tim pulled his hand from the back of his neck, and stared at it.

“Fuck.”

“You say that a lot.”

Tim’s eyes snapped back to him. Oh that was the wrong thing to say.

“Ya I do. Ya I fucking do John. You know why? Beacuse for the past two week I’ve been stuck in a freezing fucking room with my boss who suddenly 180ed how he’s acting and that’s fucking confusing. I’m cold all the time and every night I hear you walking around the room muttering to yourself about whatever the fuck you are, you have been insisting on feeding me and ahit when you never cared before. Hell apparently you wanted to feed me so fucking bad I broke your fucking nose and now I’m standing out in the cold open air well cleaning you up and now I have my only shirt covered in blood. I think I’m allowed to swear when all this shit keeps happening,” Tim took a deep breath breath

John was frozen in shock from Tims outburst. Sadly he wasn't done.

“No and you know what John? I have tried so fucking hard to bond with throughout my years working with you and all I was met with was a complete wall and hell later I was met with worse then a wall! All I got from you was distrust and a fucking staucker! We worked together for how many years before you became the head Archivest and you still thought I was some fucking monster! You took pictures of my house and I still was trying to give you grace but at every turn you just proved it was useless. What changed? Why the hell are you trying to be so fucking nice to me now?? I'd love to know!”

John sat silently staring up up at who had began rubbing his arms well pacing. He had no idea what to say, he knew after everything he hadn't treated Tim, or any of his staff really, well. Much less the respect they deserved. Tim had gone though the exact thing John had just with the extra stress of having to run through the tunnels alone. And still John treated him as a threat, he knew Tim and still was so cruel.

Tim had every right to be angry, to be hurt. And after everything he deserved to question John.

“I….I'm sorry Tim. For everything,” before he could continue Tim turned on him again.

“Your /sorry/?! Your sorry that you completely disregarded everyone and pushed all of us to our wits ends. Your sorry for all the nights where we tried to stay late to help you with whatever you thought was going on? The multiple accusations you threw around without a second thought? Your sorry? Are you fucking kidding me John!”

John flinched and looked away from Tim. All the softness and concern drained from his voice and expression.

“Yes…I'm sorry. I…nothing I say will fix it…I was to deep in my own parking and could never stop to think about you all,” John whispered.

He heard Tim scoff but he stayed quite.

“I…thank you for trying so hard Tim…I didn't..don't, deserve any kindness your understanding from you. I know before this all I was not the best ether, I'm sorry for that as well. I can't tell you what changed..I don't even remember when it did. Just after we got locked in here….I was able to stop thinking about you like that. It seems so obvious now that you couldn't, wouldn't have done anything, especially not this. You wouldn't lock me in a room with you, you wouldn't let yourself get sick…you stuck in here too. I saw how you got sick, the least I could do after everything was at least try to help..”

—-------

Tim let his arms drop. He had screamed at John and instead of fighting him, John was apologizing.

He looked so…sad? Remorseful? Guilty?

Good.

He should feel bad, after all the shit he put Tim through.

As John sat there Tim could feel all his anger leave him,it was like a weight off his chest. Without the weight he felt empty, like he had nothing to keep him going. To keep him standing.

God it was cold.

So Tim sat. He looked up at John whose head shot up when he heard something hit the ground. Damn it, he really was worried about him.

He sighed.

“Keep talking,” Tim said as he pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head on them.

“W-what?”

“Just keep talking, I'm…I can't be mad any more John, I'm too tired right now. Anything you want to tell me, tell me now. The quiet is too loud.”

Tim stared at the wall. It hadn't changed at all, still a plain, windowless, slab of cold concrete. He could hear John's breath.

“Right then. I suppose I can do that. When do you want me to start?”

Tims mouth was covered in the curled up position so even to him his words were muffled.

“Don't care”

He cared a little bit, even if he didn't have the energy to be angry he still wanted to know. Granted what John already said was more then he had ever expected to hear. He wanted more, apparently John was going to give it so he would take what he gave.

“Right. Well, you know this part already, after Martin found Gertrude's body I spiraled into a panic trying to figure out what happened. I'm still convinced that someone, or at least something killed her…but I was so far in the panic everyone seemed suspicious, no matter how much evidence I had. I needed something to blame, a reason that wasn't just some random thing killing her in a way she had no chance of stopping. I…I felt I needed to know so I could stop it happening to me. You all were the people closest so I…I blamed you. Even if it didn't make sense.”

Tim knew that, it was obvious to everyone honestly. Everyone except John himself of course, Tim supposed it was good for John to finally realize it to.

“If I'm being honest….I wanted it to be one of you so I could prove to myself that I can't trust people. But..I know it wasn't, you all, you all are good. I don't know how to approach any of you, even before all this. I'm so distant from everyone because I believed everyone was just…plotting. A Lot of the times I was right but I wasn't with you all. You all were genuinely trying to be kind to me and I refused to meet you. I'm sorry again.”

Tim hummed. He understood that train of thought, that everyone was bad and out for themselves. Hell he thought that for the longest time too, it was the only thing that kept him alive for years. He didn't notice when he stopped thinking that, was it when he found the Institute? Meeting Sasha or Martin maybe? He couldn't be sure.

Thankfully John continued after a brief pause. Tim heard the deep breaths he was taking.

“When we first got stuck in here I was still going down my rabbit hole, I don't know when I first was able to stop and think properly again. I think it was when you stopped pacing around the room, strted to hide in the blankets. I knew something was wrong and it….flipped a switch and suddenly I was just able to…trust you.”

Tim lifted his lead and looked at John, who was looking anywhere but him.

“You..you trust me?”

Silence.

Tim thought he was going to backtrack or ignore him but,

“Yes. I trust you Tim”

John finally looked at Tim.

The bruises around John's eyes were starting to darken and Tim couldn't help but start to laugh.

After everything, after Prentiss and all the fucking worms, the servalance tapes, everything. This is what got John to trust him. He decked John in the face not even an hour ago and now he was flat out saying he trusted him!

He could see the confusion on John's face but as his eye crinkled so did the starting bruises and it just looked so ...so funny on John. John who was always so serious and methodical and paranoid looked like he had a painted on bandits mask.

Tims laughter dubbed and he ended up laying back on the hard floor. John to his credit stayed quite as Tim laughed, just as he didn't when he yelled. But that didn't make it any less funny.

“Holy hell John,” Tim barely breathed out between bursts of laughter.

“You, you make no sense!”

—-----------------

Tim was still having with laughter as John processed what was going on.

He had no idea why Tim was laughing. Just a few minutes ago he was angry and yelling but now? Right after John told him he trusted him..did he think John was lying?

If he were less worried about Tims sudden for of laughter he would have given himself the moment to just enjoy the sounds. Later that night he would think about it and realize it was the first time he really heard Tim laugh. Not just he chuckles and short huffs, a real laugh.

When Tim finally called down he stayed laying on the floor. His breathing was loud and felt exaggerated but John didn't say anything.

���You know John, you have the strangest mind.”

More beats of silence

“Do…do you really trust me or are you just fucking with me John?”

Finally John was able to say /something/.

“ When have I ever “fucked with you”? I am of course I do trust you I wouldn't just say that…”

Tim chuckled again, “ it's just odd John, I was so angry at you a bit ago but now, now I just ... .God I don't know.”

John sat there confused and frankly a little concerned.

The both of the sat there, John could feel the tissue in his nose collecting blood and it was weird.

“Hay John…”

John looked at Tim immediately.

“Yes?”

“You're a real prick, you know that?”

Although he was insulting him Tims voice didn't have any anger in it anymore, not as far John could tell. Then again John was shit at telling somehow knew. Not John.

“I..yes I am aware.”

Tim groaned

“ God you sound like one too! Seriously you need to lighten the fuck up and learn how to talk without sounding like a English teacher.”

“I think the way I talk is just fine,” John said defensively. His arms crossed over his chest.

“No, no you really do. I swear you give me flashbacks of falling asleep in 10th grade English. It's crazy,” Tim was still laying on the floor and while John couldn't see it, was smiling.

“Well perhaps the reason you think it's odd is because you were napping while being taught proper language.”

“Na, you're just weird. Also no one just says ‘perhaps’ John. Nobody.”

Tim finally sat back up. He leaned back on his hands and looked at John. He sighed.

“I'm sorry John.”

What? What could you be apologizing for? I-”

“Cuz I just started fuckin yelling at you man. You didn't even do anything and I just blew off on you,” John was about to interrupt but Tim held up his hand.

“I mean I had every right, have, for that matter, to be angry but I just blew up on you when you were probably just trying to mess with me. Fuck I broke your nose and then cleaned you up and then yelled at you! Here I am going on about mixed signals and doing it myself! It wasn't fair. I'm sorry.”

“Um, thank you?”

“Was that a question?”

“I…No?”

“Why are you just asking questions? I'm trying be sincere here man.”

“I know I just, I don't know what to do. I, I am not used to being apologized to..”

“Martin says sorry to you all the time?????”

“Well, ya, but that's ,Martin. He apologizes for everything, even when he's done nothing wrong.”

Tim agreed and laughed a little.

“I suppose that's true. But ya John, I should've, I should've handled it better. Especially cuz I just broke your nose well you were trying to do something nice to me.”

“I did catch you off guard. You can't be fully to blame.”

Tim laughed again. John felt himself smile. He didn't quite understand what was going on or how Tim reacted but he liked that he seemed calmer. He seemed calmed then he had been since the two of them had been trapped. John didn't want to ruin that. Tim deserved a moment of calm.

Then Tim had a full body shiver. It snapped John out of his semi-daze.

“Are you alright?”

“Fuck ya I'm fine,” Tim was rubbing his arms again.

It must have been a trick of the light but John could have sworn Tims lips where blue.

“I'm just a bit cold. Its fucking freezeing in here.”

“You should lay back down, maybe eat some more.”

“Oh shut it. I'm fine. It's just a bit cold. It's not like the floor is helping any though.”

John went to stand up, but when he did it felt like a rush of dizziness and nausea ran though his bones. He quickly sat back down. His eyes squeezed shut trying to stop the room from spinning around him.

“Oh shit, John.”

He felt Tims strong hand on his shoulder holding him up to prevent him was falling forward.

Strong hand? Why was he thinking that. It's just Tims hand.

“Hey, it's ok. Just breath, Itll go away soon.”

John nodded. He reached his hand up to hold Tim's arm he took deep breaths and slowly he could feel the world righting itself around him.

When he finally opened his eyes Tim was right in front of him kneeling on the floor. His arm reached him stabilizing John and the other rested on the chair, just shy of touching him.

Tims eyes were on his, the brown color piercing into Johns.

“You ok there John,” Tims said softly.

His voice was always so smooth, it never sounded bad. Tim was so close to him.

John nodded, he opened his mouth but when nothing came out he closed it again and looked away from Tims concerned eyes.

“You lost a shit ton of blood you know, you really should be more careful. You, of all people, should know about the dizziness man.”

“Right, I was just trying to-”

“Ether way man,” Tim interrupted “You can't be fucking stupid. Come on, I'll help you to lie down.”

“I can walk just fine on my own.”

John was trying but Tim had other plans. He slid his arm under johns and lifted him to his feet. John's head swam as he rose.

“Every time you have tried to walk in the past, however I've been out of my blankets you've almost fallen so I don't wanna hear it.”

Tim walked John over to his pile of blankets. Not Johns little spread but Tims own.

“And before you start bitching about this being my…. pile, I broke your nose and you lost a lot of blood, you need to stay warm. You can use my stuff tonight.”

As Tim sat John down he was able to catch up with what he was saying.

“What about you? I gave you all these because you've been shivering all night.”

“John….have you been watching me sleep.”

It didnt really sound like a question but John answered it anyway.

“Well it's not exactly hard to notice. I uh, I don't sleep a lot. I spend a lot of time trying to find something but I do….check on you occasionally. You shiver a lot so I have been giving you any new blankets that appear. I don't really need them.”

Tim stared at John. He could tell if he was angry or not, he looked almost passive. Well he wasn't holding John any more he could still almost feel a chill coming off of Tim. The little bit of his arms that were exposed were covered in goosebumps.

That's one thing John never understood about Tim, his style. He would wear a lot of more revealing clothes, nothing too scandalous during work but he seemed to be wearing it under his clothes.If John sent him to get information he always came back to the institute…wearing less then when he left. Right now, he was wearing one of his only long sleeves he currently had. The only problem was that his sleeves had holes at the shoulders. The shirt was designed like that. And it's not like it looked /bad/ on Tim, it just defeated the point of wearing long sleeves.

John realized he was staring at Tims shoulders and looked back up at Tims face. They both knew he was cold and before John could start to object Tim did something completely unexpected.

“Ugh fine. I don't want to hear a word from you about this. Got it? You did this yourself and the only reason I'm doing it is because your right about me being cold. Its fucking freezeing in here and it's crazy your not frozen to death with the week ass scratchy piece of cloth that we have been calling a blanket.”

Tim shifted to sit next to John and layed down.

“Well come on, I'm not going to sit with the cold air hitting me for much longer.”

John didn't say anything and lied next to Tim on the thick comforter he had pushed over the concrete floor to protect from the cold. Tim quickly pulled the other 4, yes 4, blankets over the two of them.

“There, now you can't complain.”

John nodded and watched as Tim curled his body so all of it was under the covers, even his head.

—————

Tim felt John shift around for a minute before finally laying still.

The blankets were big enough to cover both of them easily so it wasn’t like they were touching or anything but they were still quite close. He could feel John’s warmth under the blankets, his body heat being trapped in.

Tim had to admit it was really nice, the blankets helped but having John right next to him helped even more with the cold that continued to seep through him. He wished he could have John just fold around his body so he could soak up all his warmth. But that was asking way /way/ too much. He didn’t even ask about this, he just forced John to lay down somewhere that wasn’t on the freezing concrete.

He really did feel bad about snapping at John today. He felt justified in his anger but just because he was justified in it doesn’t mean it was appropriate. Over the past few days John really was just trying to help him, he kept insisting that he eat and he kept giving Tim his blankets.

It was really sweet when he stopped and thought about it, he could take a form of comfort in that. He also took a not so small comfort knowing John was right next to him. He could feel his warmth and feel the blankets shift as he did.

And even though Tim was always cold he usually held one tight against his chest. He just couldn’t sleep without holding something, when he was home he had a stupid stuffed animal that he would hold at night but here he didn’t. Any semblance of comfort Tim useily took part in was gone, for now and the foreseeable future. But he could at least have this for now, even if it was only for tonight.

Maybe he could convince John to sleep like this more. He thought as he curled even more into himself and tried to fall asleep.

That’s for what I thought would be a good chapter 1!

I do have more written and I am continuing to wright it:)

Should I start posting this to Ao3 now or should I wait?

I love feedback and suggestions!

If you want to be tagged when I post about this fic let me know and I’ll try! :)

Thank you so much for reading!

[bambiscottagecare]

I was kinda having a great time in Subspace, listening to some really great files and all of a sudden I snapped out of it, like ig I got overstimmed or something and now I just feel shitty, and I figured I’d maybe talk a lil about aftercare or something. I’m putting this on the side blog pretty much only because I’d rather keep the main for Bambi and her pretty pictures.

Anyway if you’re ever in this situation like I literally was just now, it’s nobody’s fault. Your dom (if you have one or if they’re here with you) did great, and I’m sure you did too! This stuff happens. Nobody likes to blog about the scene fails because it ruins the fantasy but it happens a lot and always remember that. (More under the cut!) ✨

So I decided to go outside onto my patio with a water bottle, get some fresh air, rehydrate, sorta gather myself and calm down from all of the stimulation. I had Twitter (X?) opened before I started to listen, so I closed it because let’s be honest that site isn’t the place to be when the goal is to feel okay and grounded. If I wasn’t writing this post I’d have closed tumblr too. I took off Bambi’s “uniform” too (obviously but I wanted to mention it anyway bc some people really do raw dog BS and PLEASE don’t do that).

After I came back inside I turned on a vod one of my favorite “comfort” streamers, Vinesauce. He’s playing some really bad Mario fan games, or something, honestly I did it more for the voice and less the content, though what he’s playing looks funny. I need to start making dinner and so I’ll do that in a few minutes. I’m making a ramen kit I bought at Costco!

I also recently bought the game Spirittea so I’m really looking forward to playing more when I can focus better. Regardless of if you believe that brainwashing is real, there are definitely files which scramble my brain for what feels like ages! So many talented creators! It’s what makes listening fun! Right now we don’t want that though.

Speaking of Vinesauce I’ve recently gotten into his band Red Vox. Dad rock isn’t really my kind of music but it’s kinda comforting to listen to, it reminds me of when I was a kid in the back seat of my parents’ car at night half asleep while the local rock station plays Soundgarden and Nirvana. I have it playing on my phone while I’m chopping up veggies for dinner

Anyway I could go on all night and live-blog but I kinda just wanted to talk about what I did after things didn’t pan out. I’ll maybe try again tomorrow with an easier playlist or something. Keep an eye on the main just in case!

Goodnight!

[screaming-blue-bagel]

Bed of Roses pt. 2

[rockstar!eddie munson x fem!plus-sized reader]

pt. 2 White Mustang

warnings: arguing, mentions of cheating

minors dni*

do not post my work on other sites or take my original work. please do not translate my work. likes and reblogs are welcome*

wc: 2k

author’s note: I recommend listening to White Mustang by Lana Del Rey while reading

3 Years Ago

Eddie and I were in my bedroom. He just got back from his first tour. I was halfway propped up against my headboard and halfway lying on my pillows while Eddie laid his head in my lap. I was running my fingers through his hair taking out the little tangles while I stared out of my window looking at the heavy rain-filled clouds outside. For being so seemingly dark outside, the trees and houses seemed more vibrant than usual. I don’t remember how long we sat like that before Eddie fell asleep on me.

“Birdy,” Eddie said nudging my arm and pulling my attention from the window.

“Yeah, Eds?”

“Come here, please?” he said still half asleep.

“I am here,” I said as I pulled his hand up and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles.

He looked up at me with his soft sleepy eyes. His dark hair splayed out over my thighs. He looked angelic. So beautiful, just for me.

“Scoot over Eds.”

“No, I’m not letting go. Never,” he said with a cute pout and scrunched-up eyebrows.

“I want to lie down with you silly,” I said laughing.

He relented and let me scoot down next to him. I draped one of my arms over his waist pulling him closer. I looked him in the eyes. He looked back at me. He seems perfectly content. He leaned in to place a chaste kiss right on my lips then laid his head back on my chest and fell asleep.

…

It’s raining today. It’s dismal and I am pleased about it. It reminds me of the book Frankenstein. I sit on my bed looking out of the window while Ozzy sleeps next to me. I quietly scoff as he moves his back leg in his sleep. I grab my mug off of my bedside table and look out the window. It reminds me of old times. I put my mug down and shut the curtain.

Dustin’s graduation is tomorrow. I have a bag packed for myself and Ozzy sitting in my backseat just in case. I know I shouldn’t run. It’s tiring, but I can’t help it. It hurts too much to see him and be around him. The phone rings. I get off my bed and walk over to the phone on my dresser.

“Hello.”

“Hey, are you coming over today to help me decorate for Dustin’s party?”

“Yeah Steve, I’ll be there. Do you need me to pick anything up on the way over?”

“Let me look, real quick,” he says.

“Actually, can you pick up some cups and napkins?” he says urgently.

“Yeah, I will be there soon.”

I hang up the phone. I walk to my closet to get my rain jacket, but I accidentally wake up Ozzy when I toss it onto my bed. He pops up. The fur on the side of his face is still smashed like it was when it was pressed against the cover. He lies back down and watches me put on my black rain boots and jacket. When I walk down the stairs, I hear him plopping down the steps after me. I get to the door and grab my sunglasses and keys.

“No, you can’t go with me today, I’m sorry Oz.”

He barks in response and stands right by the door glaring at me. I laugh and pull the door shut. I walk onto the porch and put my hood on before I step into the light rain. I open the door and sit down on the cold leather. I start the engine and back out of the driveway then head to the store.

…

The cups and napkins sit in a paper bag on my passenger seat. When I pull up to Steve’s house that’s when I see that stupid fucking white Mustang in the driveway. The Yang to my Yin. I run my hand over the black racing stripe on the hood as I walk by. The black leather seats look dusty through the windows. A pack of cigarettes and that black scuffed-up Zippo sit on the dash. I should have known he would be here. I walk up to the front door. A few drops of water slide off my coat and hit the concrete making little dark spots. They fade away soon enough. After a few seconds, I sit the paper bag on one of the rocking chairs on the porch. I’m not in the mood to stick around.

I will call Steve when I get home and let him know I left the stuff on the porch. I sit back in my seat. I smell leather and rain. It’s a bittersweet feeling to think about the times that Eddie and I shared in the back of his van when he had it. Sweet laughs, while running his hands down my sides between slow wanting kisses. Sitting on his lap, I would run my hands through those dark curls. Staring into those deep dark eyes with the little wrinkles on the sides. I clear my throat, turn up the music and drive home.

Steve’s car sits in my driveway. That’s weird. He called me from his house inviting me over to come help him set up. That’s when I see the passenger window down with a pair of black boots propped up with a cloud of smoke creating a haze in the cab. Fuck. Why is he here? He knows I clearly don’t want to see him.

I put my bag on the ground so I grab my keys out of my pocket, but I hear a car door shut and quick steps coming up the drive. My chest is pounding, my hands are sweating, and I frantically reach to grab the keys just to drop them on the welcome mat. Before I can bend down to pick them up, Eddie swipes them in one hand. He takes a deep breath and steps to the other side unlocking the door. He picks up my tote bag and holds the door open for me.

He takes the time to shut the door, toe off his boots, put my keys and bag on the hook behind the door, and slip off his jacket to hang behind the door. I guess he doesn’t think about his next move as he walks over to me and helps me with my jacket. He realizes what he’s done once he hangs my jacket. He turns to me and clears his throat.

“Eddie, what’re you doing here,” I say sternly.

Plop, plop, plop. Ozzy comes down the stairs with welcoming yaps. He runs straight to Eddie, of course, he does. Eddie smiles and says a few words that make Ozzy turn his head to the side. Eddie slides behind me to take Ozzy into the kitchen. His hand feels warm as it crosses my back. Like it should be there. Like it used to be. I hear the back door open and then close. Eddie walks back into the living room.

“I just want to talk before Dustin’s graduation tomorrow, kay” he says.

“There is nothing to talk about,” I say walking into the living room and sitting on the couch.

“I just want to tell you what happened since I can never get you to stick around long enough to talk to me without running off,” he says between gritted teeth. He sits on the edge of the fireplace directly across from me.

“Are you seriously pulling this shit right now Eddie?” I yell at him.

“Just listen to me for five minutes. Can you do that Birdy? Huh?”

“Fuck you, Eddie,” I say standing up and trying to walk past him.

He grabs my wrist and pulls me back into his arms. He feels so warm, and I miss his touch. I grab his shirt in my hand. Hot angry tears roll down my cheeks. I can’t even bring myself to move. He runs his hand comfortingly up and down my back. He finally relents therefore leaving me standing exposed in front of him with red eyes.

“I’m sorry, Birdy,” he says sitting on the arm of the loveseat.

“No, Eddie, you don’t get to be sorry. I walked in on you with your dick down some girl’s throat,” I say boldly looking him straight in the eyes. A challenge.

“I know okay, I’m sorry Goddamit. I was just mad at you because you wouldn’t come to L.A. with me. I bought you a car and a fucking house, and you still refused to come with me. Why baby? I wanted to give you everything; I still do,” he says in a strained voice.

“I don’t know, okay, Eddie. But that doesn’t give you permission to cheat on me,” I whisper as my eyes become glossy again.

“Birdy, please” he whispers back as he pulls me into his chest.

I don’t know why I let him hug me and cry all over my shoulder. I want to tell him to leave. I want to tell him to stay. The words are dry dirt in my throat.

“Why’d you write it?” I ask as I back away from him. He hates it when I leave even when it's just his arms. He thinks he’ll lose me forever. Maybe he will. I don’t know. I can see the worry start to surface in his suffocating stare.

“I wrote it because I knew you would listen,” he says softly as someone would speak to a frightened animal. A wild animal.

“I can’t trust you right now,” I say as I start to back away.

…

One failed conversation later, I sit on the back patio as Ozzy runs around getting into every mud puddle he can see.

“Come inside, Oz. We need to get you into the bath, so you don’t get mud everywhere.”

I sit on my knees outside of the bathtub in my bathroom. Ozzy stands in the warm water looking a little better than a soaked rat all covered in bubbles. I giggle at his questionable appearance.

All dried up, Ozzy sits next to me in bed. He always sleeps with me. My little dragon according to Eddie. He would always play fight with Ozzy to save his princess from the tower. Eddie would win, and ask for a token of my affection. I would always give him a gentle kiss and thank him for being my gracious knight in shining armor. Even though his armor was his unruly hair, scary clothes, and charming smile. In return, I would get smothered in kisses all over my face and end up with his arms wrapped around me as he dosed off finding himself in dreamland.

I think of this until I make it to dreamland myself. I dream of driving in my car down the open highway. I look to my right and see Eddie holding Ozzy as he shouts the lyrics to some fast-paced Black Sabbath song. He reaches over to put his hand on my thigh. He leans over like he’s going to say something.

Then I wake up with a gasp. Ozzy has already run down the stairs and is barking his little head off. I jump out of bed and pull on my sweatshirt, well Eddie’s sweatshirt. I look over at the clock. 3:29 a.m. Who is at my door? I grab the knife I keep in my nightstand and hastily go down the stairs. I peek through the curtain and see someone sitting crisscrossed in front of my door. Of course. I pick Ozzy up and open the door. I look into the face of my visitor. He looks dazed and sleepy. His curls look more disheveled than usual. He shows off that stupid smile that I would do anything to keep around forever.

“Hi, Birdy. I missed uh you, I needed to come see you. I love you. You’re so pretty. Can I touch your hair?” Eddie says clearly drunk out of his mind.

Taglist: @daisyridleyyyy @chloe-6123 @ashlynnkennedy @tayhar811 @allaboutvalen

Note: The names that are crossed out would not let me tag them for some reason. Also, I am new to taglists so I will definitely screw things up for a while before I figure things out.

[milo-is-rambling]

tmi type ramble about learning to deal with masturbating again after a weird non consensual sex thing kinda ruined existing in my own body

Okay proceeding as normal tumblr post from here:

That weird thing after {insert vague phrasing} happens to you where you get horny again and you have to kind of treat masturbating as a self care routine cause like yes I’m gonna hopefully eventually maybe get to cum a little (I hate my body) but then after I’m gonna have to deal with the fucking consequences (ha.) when I can’t sleep and I’m having nightmares about {synonym for bad thing} and like idk. Triggering myself bc I have this like body horny that won’t go away and this brain that hates the body it’s in because it reminds it of the bad thing that happened to it and it’s just like exhausting but I can’t just like not cum bc like. That’s all I fucking have. Like truly at the end of the day at least I have my clit. Some days my vibrator is literally the only good thing I have going on in my life. I just love cumming and hate penetration now.

Anyways I was saying it’s like partially a self care thing cause I have to charge my vibrator and like wait for it to get late or whatever and I get to chill and like eat a snack and get water and stretch my body and focus on all the things that kind of remind me I’m safe and that I’m in my own space and even tho the bed is the same as {NOOOOO} the sheets are new it’s okay everything is moved everything is clean everything is built to distract me from being here while also forcing me to be present I get really high I vibe I hate myself I wish I was dead I cum I smoke I cum i clean up and I drink a cold can of root beer and tuck my vibrator into its own little bed before smoking as much as possible and then going on Pinterest until I fall asleep begging my brain not to dream anything awful.

If you’ve read this much you’ve reached a secret hidden end half joke :

Part of my waiting for my vibrator to charge routine has been watching the muppets and I am really hoping I don’t accidentally Pavlov myself here 😬

[umichenginabroad]

Stockholm Week 4: From Northern Lights to Polar Plunging

Core Course Week is the official name of this week. I have been waiting for this week because it was my first trip outside of Stockholm. During the core course week, you travel to another city in Sweden or even another country for three days with classmates and course advisers in your core course. It is a packed schedule full of both academic and cultural activities! 

My Engineering Sustainable Environment in Scandinavia course traveled to Umeå in the second half of the week from Wednesday night to Saturday. This post is focused on my time in Umeå! 

Before the actual trip, we got a sneak peek of what our academic tours would look like. On Monday, we had an academic visit to Norrenergi's district heating plant in Solna. Looking at the reactors and walking around the plant was very different from reading about the process. 

The building was full of rooms that surprised me, just like this (this is wastewater collected in the city). Although it was wastewater, it didn’t smell too bad! 

2/7 Wed: Night Train to Umeå

On Wednesday, I packed everything in a carry-on and left for the Central Station at 10 pm. 

Taking a night train was on my bucket list. BUCKET LIST! I have been and will be saying this many more times but I am not lying. I’m a month into my studying abroad semester and already checking off several activities on my bucket list! 

The train station gave off a Hogwarts vibe and the inside of the train made me think that I was a cast member in the Murder on the Orient Express movie. Two/three of us were each given a triple room to stay the night. 

POV from my bed 

Although we had to wake up at 7 in the morning, we were too excited to sleep. We talked, took a bunch of photos, and played card games before finally going to bed. 

I took the victory in the second round of BS ٩( ᐛ )و

I fell asleep soon, looking forward to what will happen tomorrow. 

2/8 Thu: Academic Plant Visits

When we woke up to get ready, the water didn’t come out. It was an experience to wash my face and brush my teeth with a water bottle. 

The first thing we did after getting off the train was eating breakfast at Umeå University. It was followed by a series of academic sessions on sustainability and food, as well as coffee substitution and sustainability. 

It was such an aesthetic building!

Later in the day, we went on another academic visit to Umeå Energi Heating Plant. The most interesting fact I learned was that plants openly communicate and collaborate without competition because they are in different municipalities. Since they do not have to compete in any way, workers genuinely consult each other and happily share insights on ways to improve their facility and process. It naturally made me think about what makes this possible and how this positive environment can be replicated in the U.S. 

We were also given a chance to see the waste bunker and incinerator. 

Doesn’t this remind you of Toy Story?

After the two-hour trip, we had a group dinner. The good thing was that it was in a boat.

Boat restaurant! It didn't move though

The bad thing was that it took three hours. THREE hours for dinner! But the long wait let us bond over our various conversations. Besides, the long wait was THE reason why we were able to catch this view of the sky.   

There were disputes about what this light is, but I am just going to let myself believe that it was the northern lights with a hint of clouds

Our attempt in capturing the "Northern Lights"

We were returning to our hotel when we saw the ice castle with slides. Are we college students if we don’t go sledding at night?  

As educated students, we made a single file line to take turns going down the slides 

The vicinity was full of our laughter and I absolutely loved it. I made another core memory that day :) 

2/9 Fri: - Horse Carriage for Northern Lights 

I started the day with a breakfast buffet provided by the hotel. Due to the last-minute cancellation of the academic visit at city hall, we finished our breakfast leisurely and had about two hours to wander around the neighborhood. The frozen lake was our destination. 

The combination of warm sunlight and flakey snow brought me so much joy. At that moment, I understood why people need to live next to nature. I never knew all I wanted was just to lie down, buried in snow, feeling the warmth of the sunlight. 

Couldn’t be happier

This was a church next to the lake

Group lunch and the last academic visit at the Vakin Waste Water Treatment plant were next up. 

I was holding on to my phone for my dear life because all the floors and stairs had holes in them - I also held on to the rails for my dear life

However, the real fun was waiting for us in the evening. 

Finally, it was time for the Northern Lights hunt on a horse carriage. I bundled up, layer after layer, to prepare for the freezing weather in the forest (my two thermal socks were not enough to prevent my toes from freezing). 

Photo credit to Tia <3  My phone was not good enough to capture the faint light in the pitch-black darkness ;-;

It was still an extraordinary experience even though we didn’t see the northern lights. Fika around the fireplace in the middle of the woods was such a special moment. 

The guide couple's dog made it 1000000 times better. She was SO pretty &lt;3

Afterward, we grabbed a full meal at MAX for dinner. Then we all met in one of our hotel rooms and played games before going out to a pub close by. The nightlife gave us the full experience at Umeå. 

2/10 Sat: Polar Plunging and Sauna

The last day of the Umeå trip began with a polar plunge and a sauna. The plunge itself wasn’t bad at all; the worst part of the event was walking on ice bare feet. 

Cold, cold ice (literally) water

The wooden sauna took two hours to reach 40 degrees Celsius, which was just enough to thaw our numb tuckles (credit to you know who). 

After the plunge and sauna, I oddly felt warmth inside my body. Before trying it out myself, I doubted the locals when they said the plunge is good for your body and makes you warm all day. In a sense, it was a true cultural experience because I suddenly understood Swedish culture. Freedom to roam, the concept of Lagom (not too much, not too little: just the right amount), and people being reserved for the most part began to make more sense in my mind. 

The sun came out as we walked back to the bus destined for our hotel

The short but memorable trip to Umeå ended with a 6-hour train ride back to Stockholm. Even the train ride back felt shorter than what it was. I think it was because I wanted it to last longer. 

The train ride back with a beautiful sunset ended the trip on a perfect note. 

2/11 Sun: Cafe Hops  

As much as I wish this semester was just a casual life abroad, it is called study abroad for a reason. It was time to do my work!

Like a typical college student, I started my work on Sunday. But I’m a student studying abroad, so I met up with my friends to eat brunch and do homework together at cute cafes. 

This blog is the last task for me today. It marks the end of my long week. I hope you had a great week as I did! 

I’ll see you again next week with new events :) 

Hey då, 

Jiwoo Kim 

Chemical Engineering

DIS Study Abroad in Stockholm, Sweden

[bluedalahorse]

2. Do you read/reread your own fics?

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?

Thanks for the ask!

2. Do you read/reread your own fics?

I do. Sometimes for the purpose of reminding myself what I wrote before and making sure later chapters line up with that (though of course there are inconsistencies in my longfic anyway) and but sometimes just for fun. Usually I’m rereading my own stuff because I can’t sleep and it helps to have something familiar and soothing, but not something so new and novel that it makes me more awake and I’m never able to fall back asleep again. And hey, I write the stuff I like to read, so it works.

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Don’t make me choose, I love all my children equally! Well, okay, maybe I’m glad that the Gundam Wing fic circa 2000 with the fangirl Japanese and the horrendously mischaracterized evil Relena is gone from the internet forever. I do not miss my era of hating on fictional female characters.

If I had to pick some favorite parts of what I’ve written so far (because I haven’t written a lot of short fics, more like longer stuff) I like chapters 11-15 of Heart and Homeland, which take place at a ball at the Ehrencronas’ estate. So many events and relationships happened in those chapters, it felt sort of like writing a season finale. We’re now getting in to chapters that feel more like a series finale, and it’s just as exciting.

I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Terrain Boundaries Territory, my second person fanfic-in-verse where Sara is Getting Revenge On August. It was the first fic I’d posted to the internet for about seven years! Even though it is now heavily AU based on how season 2 played out, I’m glad I took the risk to write something in a completely unusual format, and then I’m glad I posted it to AO3. Sometimes it’s worth just putting your ideas out there and seeing what happens!

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

It depends. Also, there are also different types of planning that I do.

One way that I plan is by making big structural outlines. For Heart and Homeland, @heliza24 and I have a lot to keep track of, so we work in thematically linked batches of chapters. 1-3 was our first batch, 4-6 our second batch and so on. Each batch is a tab on a spreadsheet, and we then have a line for each letter, prose scene, whatever, along with a summary, who the thing is assigned to, and a link to the document with the thing. This helps us keep the flow of the story relatively structured, though occasionally we end up adding and subtracting ideas as we write things out, as well as flipping the order of certain scenes once we know how things are working.

Here’s what the spreadsheet can look like:

(Blue means something is assigned to me, yellow means it’s something assigned to Heliza. Also, sometimes our summaries get snarky, but because this was very early on in our plotting process I was being relatively serious.)

For a shorter work, I might not be as concerned about a big structural outline. 

When it comes to planning out scenes, I will give myself a few minutes before I write a scene to make some notes about what I’m about to work on. I try to think about, what is the purpose of the scene? How do each character’s emotions shift (or not?) What are the things that happen? What important lines of dialogue do I need to remember? What images/appeals to the reader’s senses are going to give us clues about a character’s emotional state? That’s usually half a page of jotting—I mostly try to get down the things I don’t want to forget. I don’t try to get everything in a scene because sometimes that comes out while writing.

One more thought about planning: sometimes a season drops in the middle of a longfic and you end up adjusting things from your original plans! We wrote the first 19 chapters of H & H in the months between season 1 and season 2, and while we’re keeping 95% of our original plans intact, we did make some alterations and play with some storylines based on season 2 plots. For instance, we were able to use Marcus and Jan-Olof as part of the story where originally we were gonna have to invent some OCs. So season 2 turned out pretty useful for our plotting!

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

Answered that in this post with probably too much text.

If you want just one line, though, my inner twelve-year-old always giggles too much in this one Heart and Homeland letter where August is writing Erik early on, and he says, Were [Simon] not so dedicated to his studies or so adept at fencing, I would have a difficult time supporting Wilhelm’s continued association with him. If, after reading this, you have your own concerns, please send word and I will explicitly forbid any further intercourse between the pair.

Look, if you’re writing a 19th century AU and you can’t make a joke using the historic meaning of the word intercourse at least once, then what’s the point?

22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?

Yes and no. I have a general idea but as I write themes develop, and then that helps me shape what the end is going to be like. It’s hard to get that balance of catharsis though! Endings are challenging.

Thanks for playing along! If anyone else wants to send me some numbers, the ask game is here.

[thicctator]

A post about how life changes and how I’m actually feeling worthy of being alive even if I still feel adrift in a world I don’t quite fit in. I needed to get this out of me and into the digital ocean to give me back some brain space and maybe spread a little love.

Tw: this post will talk about suicidal ideation and mental health - not explicitly detailed - if you’d like to skip those bits please skip past the bits between the (xx) marks.

That being said, I want this to be a post about optimism and a general feeling I have about my place in the world. It’ll be a long one, I’m not even sure if it’s worth reading.

I really hope it is, also that it’s worth sharing.

I’ll give a TL;DR: I finally feel *alive*, I still don’t know what I’m doing with myself or how I got here but I did and I want people to know, strangers and loved ones alike, I care about you. I hope 2024 is better for you than 2023, well done for making it this far.

It’s the very early hours of the last day of 2023, I can’t sleep, but that’s fine. One of my cats is asleep on my ankles, he’s snoring, it’s soothing. Sometimes I like to lay in bed anyways with my eyes closed - if I can’t sleep, I can at least close my eyes and try.

I turn 30 next year.

I get married.

I finally have things I *like* about myself, about my interests, my appearance, my place in the world.

A world that has always felt alien to me. Not just because of my neurodiversity but because I didn’t intend to be here this long.

(xx)

I wasn’t diagnosed with ADHD until I was 28. I have a ream of other physical and mental health issues that whilst chronic, are manageable now.

I didn’t live in a good position before I moved out with my partner. I hated everything about myself.

Every attempt to get a better job so I could leave that went wrong made me sicker. Every fight with a family member. Every cancelled plan to fit to another person’s schedule. Every horrible comment, snide look. Every time I’d hear other people’s criticisms of me built up.

I had a plan. I guess I still do, it’s still perfectly actionable.

Now that plan is less of a focus. It’s still there, a little pop up thought, but now I have ways to remind myself it’s just a thought. I have support and a better understanding of what the beginning of my decline looks like.

(xx)

Life’s weird when you didn’t plan to make it this far.

It’s weird to work out career progression, housing, long term plans and such when you didn’t consider them in your 20s like most people because you were too ill and wanted to not be here.

I like to drift along in the wind on some stuff even now. My brain can only handle so many things at once and the damage caused by my health means I know to play within my limits. But alas.

I happened across my career I do (product analyst - sounds kinda dull, huh?) after going “oh that sounds kinda cool” and applying having only met half their criteria. The manager took a chance on me, the company I work for turned out to be exceptionally kind and generous and understands I need support.

I got rejected, made redundant and worked soul crushing jobs far more times than I can count before this, so I count the good fortunes here every day.

Each time I have a bad work day, I remind myself it’s just a bad day, not a bad reflection of me.

My partner is the sweetest soul, kind, gentle, full of warmth. Patient and nurturing. He’s handled a lot from me, helped me through a lot too. He was the first person I tried to explain my thoughts on my gender/sexuality and how I view myself and my health to, who’s seen me grow and change over the last decade.

This wonderful soul wants to marry me. He wants to be my husband. He fills me with warmth each time he laughs at something silly, or politely sits with me in a quiet space and let me just *exist* with him.

The life I’ve built isn’t extravagant. It’s not anything you’d see on a heavily curated social media page.

It’s comfortable. It’s colourful now. It’s full of little acts of kindness and care I didn’t get to experience when I was younger, of silly little trinkets I always wanted. It’s the love I feel when I wake up to my cat snuggled up in the blanket with me, to the quiet time to do a hobby. To the giving a compliment to a stranger or smiling at my own reflection for the first time ever.

It’s sending photos to my friends of my silly little creations, of sharing interests. It’s the friend who thanks me for thinking of them or to the understanding of my partner when I say “I don’t feel well” or “I don’t want to do that, why not go alone and enjoy yourself?”

It’s to being optimistic about my space in the world. To deciding it’s fine that I don’t know what I’m doing yet, I’m still here.

It’s to my cats. Particularly my black cat, who, when I seriously hit my lowest looked at me with his tongue sticking out and I laughed. I paused and I just…wanted to make him proud of me.

Archie, I love you. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of me too now.

—

I’m not inspirational, I’m just a chubby lil queer who’s “so indecisive I can’t decide on a gender” (an affectionate quote from a good friend). But I want to give a bit of advice and love from someone who’s been in the depths of mental health’s abyss and who knows I could very easily go back.

It’s okay, to not know what to do in a situation. To not know how to fix your life. To be overwhelmed. To not have the picture perfect life. It’s okay to aim just for existence. To just “be” in the world.

Find joy in small things. Things that make *you* as a person happy. Don’t conform to others and what they want of you.

Sometimes you just need to find a way to make a thing work for you - I had my entire chest tattooed just to ease dysphoria and make ease with myself and now I have cool art on my skin and I get to go “wow that’s a colourful thing. I am art. I am a beautiful expression of art.”

Oh and my best advice: half doing something is better than not doing it at all. Can’t face washing the pile of pots, just clean off that plate you need or graze out the fridge for some food. Can’t shower today? Try just to wash your face or change your clothes. Be proud of everything small you achieve.

I lost a tooth from not brushing my teeth during my worst times, ya know. Even now I tell myself “it’s better to brush for 30 seconds than not at all” and yeah, I’m proud and smiling like a goofball at myself when I muster the energy and brain bees to remind me to brush my teeth at lunchtime on the low energy days.

—————

The horrors persist but so did I. Fuck the world that told me no or that I wasn’t enough.

I’m cosy now.

It’s all I wanted. It’s worth it. I’m worth it.

Even if we’ve never met before, person who may or may not read this, I want you to know I care. I care because I hope 2024 is better for you. I’m proud of you for getting this far.

Anyways, I’m done reflecting and taking up your time. I’m going back to closing my eyes and hoping for rest.

Here’s a picture of Archie as thank you for your time:

[bradleymarshall]

I swear twice and let my guard down and then I am to blame

The trick is to remain calm and not swear and keep your cool under all circumstances

If you can

You can win under pressure

The game they play is sadistic

You can insult as much as you like and shatter their values and reputation but if you raise your voice or swear you’ve immediately lost

Play their game and you can succeed and destroying them at their own medicine

You must remain calm and charming and civilised and you can say the most atrocious things, as long as you are charming in your delivery.

The way my parents work is to avoid conflict

Avoidance constantly

Aloof

Escapism

Even when I suggested counselling they told us we couldn’t as if the domestic and emotional violence were to surface, then, they might put your mother in jail, and then you’ll be forced out of the home, and so until I earn enough money, I have to keep my mouth shut and tolerate it all. Oh but it wasn’t bad, he reasons:

Maybe it wasn’t but a compiled a list anyway

Here’s all the bad:

14 Ways mum was horrible

1 left me in Hong Kong for 2 hours because she left chocolates behind in the hotel. I was 8, and could have easily been kidnapped. When security approached me, I lied to him that my dad was over there, as I was concerned I’d be kidnapped.

2. Every Saturday without fail I was lost in Southland. Mum would leave me behind. I followed random people thinking they were my mother because my mum would walk off so fast. No care for her son walking off shopping.

3. Emotionally Cold, calls me a worm for hugging her. Very seldom offers physical or emotional love.

4. Every time she offers a gift she uses it against me later on. “I bought you this and this is how you treat me.” Now I hate gifts

5. Stone walls me for months. Doesn’t speak to me.

6. Holds grudges that doesn’t end

7. Threw scissors at me drawing blood

8. Screaming, saying I’m gonna kill us all now while driving. I see black and white.

9. Fights with dad and brings up his sex life, that he liked dominatrix when I was 7.

10. Took photos of her half naked when I was 4.

11. Used to key cars that stole her spot in the car park. Write on the windshield with lipstick. Would road rage, frequently as a kid, swerving her car into other cars. Terrible example of road rage to me as a kid.

12. Possible affair with Kevin. Every weekend Kevin was there. She was flirty with other guys All the time, especially on the dance floor. My friends would call me slut mother due to her promiscuity.

13. Very secretive. I know very little about her or her past. She says, I don’t need to tell you anything about my history.

14. She lied to me that Elaine was my half sister. I found out by myself by working it out logically when I was 16.

Here’s all the good:

Good

1. When it comes to material gifts and love. She is abundant

Made me breakfast every morning and dinner, washes my plates, clothes. Threw me a surprise 21st birthday. Touring the world, many vacations paid for.

2. When I was sick, she said, how I wish it was me who was sick and not you and hugged me

3. She accepted me being gay crying over the letter I wrote her.

4. She loves me and cares for me, always liking my Instagram posts.

5. Buys many tickets to my shows for her friends to watch

6. Is a great source of inspiration in her confidence and self assuredness and charisma

7. Is highly functional and knows what she wants. Not someone to mess with. Knows her self worth.

8. Highly critical. Good and bad. It’s made me have very high standards.

9. Scratched my hair until her hands were sore to get me to fall asleep

It just reminds me to never get involved with them on any matter, period.

Also, you should be able to handle criticism.

Perhaps you should ask what is the celebration regarding.

Why do you get so volatile. Chill Mason.

I write about myself so frequently as Mason

I actually have to take a second to remember what my real name is

Kinda scary