#sorry I just needed to get it out

[melaniepilled]

so. SO. my ex (the obsessive one) texted yesterday. so i installed insta again. hm. we've been talking. and like.

i do love him?? but i dont know if i like him anymore. i mean, do we even have that spark anymore? like what was the 'spark' in the first place lmao mutual insanity? all we did when we were together was break up and threaten each other and get in trouble and ruin each other's friendships and talk about wanting to die. like, it was honestly scary. sometimes i would break up w him or something and hed say he was going to khs and that fucked me up, like really badly. but it was also satisfying in some sick fucking way i WANTED him to feel bad but i didn't want him to actually die and he scared me. he did it so many times i felt physically unsafe which is unreasonable right because?? not real??

50% of the time we talked we were reassuring each other that yes i love u no ure not ugly and disgusting and evil I'll be really sad if u die. it messed me up??????? and he was still the only person to ever understand me ykwim????? i never opened up to anyone like that before or after him.

in the end i broke up with him for once and for all and he blocked me some time after that cause he couldn't stay friends w me if he wanted to move on. and yeah like I've been trying to get in touch with him for a year now i hate myself for it i hate myself for being so horrible to him. i did a lot of unacceptable shit when i was w him i was NOT a good partner. and i always ended up making him feel bad for being upset w me. why did i do that like was i really that desperate for love??? was it REALLY love or just some sick need to be needed?

anyways i dated someone else after him and... yeah. didn't work out cause i still kept missing him. so im incapable of being a good faithful partner to ANYONE

i think he wants to get back together and like. im not sure what to do. i really fucking need him, like, genuinely. but hes obv not in his right mind and im obv not in my right mind AND ive only ever used him but hes the closest ive ever felt to love i dont know I DONT KNOW im sorry for everything but i know if i had to do it all again i would do everything the same way

[insanusnavicularis]

Controversial opinion I know but-

I was disappointed in the good omens season 2 ending the first time I saw it.

Before you come at me hear me out-

I get it okay, I get it. From a completely narrative, character development, coherency point. It makes so much sense. Objectively, it was a good decision. I get why it had to end that why. I get it.

But, and stay with me here, I study marketing and literature and I know how this goes.

Via marketing you have to make your consumers understand what they’re getting, you have to give them enough info for them to make assumptions and get expectations about your product, so they can buy it and be satisfied with it. If they have unrealistic or different expectations than what you’re gonna give them, then they’re gonna be disappointed no matter how good the actual product is.

The same happens with literature. There’s something called the promise of the premise. Basically it means that you have to set the tone of the story in the first chapter or two, you have to make a promise to the readers about what they’re gonna get.

All the clues were there from a literary standpoint. The scene with them both as angels. Aziraphale choosing to help Gabriel despite everything. Azirapahel seeing time and time again how much Crowley wanted to do good and go against hell.

We should’ve seen it coming.

But we didn’t. I don’t think anyone did. I didn’t at least.

And that’s because of the marketing.

Because I had expectations for this season. Expectation created by what I’ve seen and heard from the actors and from Gaiman and from Prime.

Maybe it was me who interpreted it all wrong. Maybe. I don’t know.

But I entered season 2 expecting something and I didn’t get it. The actual thing I got makes sense and it’s not bad. I don’t hate it. I actually kinda like it now that I think about it. But that does not take away the fact that my expectations weren’t met and now I’m disappointed in the product I “bought”.

It’s like this: if I told you this thing is a blender and you bought it thinking it’s a blender, thinking about all the smoothies you’re gonna make with your new blender and you’re really happy about it. But you get home and realize it’s actually a microwave and not a blender. Now, are microwaves bad? No. Do I like microwaves still? Yes. Are they useful? Yes. But it’s still not a blender, and a blender is what I expected, what I needed.

I guess I just wrongly assumed things about the show before knowing or seeing anything about it. And that’s on me okay. That’s on me. That’s my bad. Still it doesn’t take away my feelings.

What I needed was a queer or queer coded piece of media that was lighthearted and funny, I needed a queer piece of media that didn’t take itself too seriously. I needed a happy queer show. As a queer person I needed a queer show that showed me a happy ending. I needed something to escape reality, not to remind me of it. I needed something like season 1 I guess and it’s my bad because I know it’s not season one but again- expectations.

Would I still have watched it if I knew how it ended? Definitely. I’m part of the fandom and I love these characters, I’m willing to take anything they give me.

But I wouldn’t have watched it the during the time I did and with the expectations I had.

Maybe it’s because I had been having a bad week and was hoping to escape it through instant gratification in the form of a show. Maybe it’s because my anxiety had been acting up. Maybe it’s because all of that that I was so affected by the ending.

I would have still watched it. But not at that moment because it wasn’t what I needed.

I’m not disappointed in the show or the end itself. I’m disappointed in the marketing of the show I guess.

And before you come at me saying that surprise and no spoilers is a big part of media: yeah I know but remember the blender.

Tl;dr: I’m not disappointed in the show itself, it’s just that they didn’t give me enough info to realize what I was getting into so my expectations weren’t met.

[silvercaptain24]

*this has been a test of the Silver Stress Response. There is no response needed

[science-lings]

I’m just… so tired of begging for people to care when the platform I’m trying to share my art on fails me

[risetherivermoon]

ppl dont talk about the fact that even Daisuke's characterization is affected by Jimmy's unreliable perspective. He refers to Daisuke as a spoiled rich kid who has his mommy and daddy behind him, that he's impressionable and stupid, and i do see people kinda characterizing him like that

like he has these rich parents who will dote on him and give him everything, that he's an airhead who isn't good at anything...

yet in curly's perspective we see that he's good at board games, he's trying his best, he's trying to listen to swansea and learn from him. He did get the internship from his parents but not because he wanted to, but because his parents thought he wasn't going anywhere in life, that he needed to be doing something. Daisuke is silly and a positive person but that's just for show, we see in the scene where Jimmy finds him lying on the floor drunk on mouthwash, that Daisuke isn't doing well, he's scared and feels sad about his parents. He makes jokes to cope with the horrible tension on the ship.

people characterize him as a stupid little kid too much for my liking, that's how Jimmy sees him. As a spoiled brat who came on the ship just to be an inconvenience. Even Swansea didn't see him like that, sure he complained about him but in Daisuke's final moments we see Swansea's true colors and how much he actually cares for him. He's an adult, who's putting on this happy go-lucky persona because he truly wants to succeed in life, and he's doing the internship for his mom and dad even though he doesn't want to. So he makes friends, he tries his best, he wants to be on the good side of everyone on the ship.

Jimmy just saw him as an easy target, someone too trusting and easily manipulated. A stupid kid he can use to get what he wants. He even plays with Daisuke's feelings of needing validation from Swansea, someone he looks up to. He tells Daisuke that by going in the vent, he'd make Swansea proud.

Daisuke isn't someone who has it easy or someone who's a stupid airhead. Jimmy just saw kindness and positivity as weakness.

[bigweldindustries]

going through the hades 2 stuff and im sorry but i just have to ramble a second because look at Hephaestus

he's not just a wheelchair user but also an amputee. an above knee amputee. wheelchair users are already next to nonexistant in video games but amputees exist in this really...disheartening? spot where they're pretty much just reduced to "person with a cybernetic limb" - it's always just somewhere from "just a cool visual design" to flat out "superpower". I can't think of a video game amputee that is actually disabled by their limb differences - I'm all for futuristic worlds where prosthetics and other disability aids are far advanced from what they are now, but that's not really what's implied by these designs. They're just... Cool designs that in no way reflect on the real-world experience of being an amputee.

Look at Hephaestus, though. Look at that prosthetic. Whilst stylised it very much looks like it functions like common mechanical knees - knee bends when thigh is lifted, knee straightens when thigh is lowered. He's a wheelchair user as well as a prosthetic user - every prosthetic user I know is also a wheelchair user as a prosthetic is not usable in every occasion and also cause exhaustion and pain if used constantly.

Whilst we can't see much of his wheelchair the position he's sat in and the wheels very much evoke active wheelchair to me - this carries on to very specifically the thickness of his arms. Whilst a lot of Hades designs are muscular Hephaestus has very noticeably thick arms - which makes sense, as active wheelchairs require a lot of arm strength.

Just overall this design is making me want to cry - he's not just an actual wheelchair user in a video game, he's a realistic depiction of an amputee, a disability usually brushed over in order to give a character a fun design quirk and nothing else. He's fat and he's hot and he's a realistic depiction of an above knee amputee. Oh my god. Oh my god?

[egophiliac]

bring your son to work day

[carostrelec]

god, i am so fucking tired of having to pester the manager for a schedule every god damn week. not only have my hours been cut compared to last year, but i literally warned her in june that the frequency of my driving lessons will increase toward the second half of the summer, and i will prioritize them, minimum wage labor be damned.

i am not fond of cars and prefer public transport, but having a driver's license might be integral to my future job - thus, i may as well get it done before the courses become even more expensive.

the lack of forethought and planning is absurd and pisses me off - not only is my manager literally paid for forethought and planning, but i also hoped to help her by sharing my forecast of my summer availability. suggesting she prioritizes giving me hours in july, because i won't be able to work much during august and the other part-timers will be able to take on the hours i won't be able to work.

well, she didn't. have fun dealing with the consequences, ma'am. i am not paid enough to reschedule my things for you.

[yudol-skorbi]

all i can think about since i first saw new Dorian look is that every time Orym looks up to talk to him first thing he sees is just pair of naked blue tiddies with medium sized nipples

[tubbytarchia]

I told you I never stop thinking about merpearl

[blondie-drawings]

Good lord this tomb is full of shitposts 😳😳 pt 1/pt 2

[heavenbarnes]

need our simon to come home from deployment IMMEDIATELY 🫶🏼 | p1 p2 p3 p4

your older bf!simon comes home from deployment at dinner time on a tuesday.

herb alpert on the kitchen radio, knife tearing through a bunch of parsley, garlic and onion simmering on the stove behind you.

simon can hear it- smell it through the mail flap.

smells like home.

your ears prick at the sound of the door swinging open, the hinges alerting you to a secondary presence. back tensing for just a moment before you hear steps you could pick out in a lineup.

he sees your fluffy slippers first, then your little shorts, then his t-shirt. finally, he’s met with wide eyes and the kitchen light hits the curve of your face so nicely.

simon could cry.

you already were.

“oh my god, si”

he doesn’t really want to touch you with his outside clothes, tactical gear smelling like the back of a cargo plane and you’re so soft and lovely he’s afraid he might mess it all up.

but there’s nothing stopping the way you leap at him across the kitchen and swing your entire self around him and he’s forgetting what he’s wearing and he’s wrapping his arms around you like he knows you won’t break.

his tongue is immediately in your mouth and he’s taking one gasping breath and filling his nose with the scent that’s overwhelming him.

simon realises right then that the house smells like dinner but you smell like home. you are home. he’s home.

when he finally lets you let him go you’re telling him to leave all his gear by the washer and you’ll sort it all out tomorrow but right now he needs to sit down so you can feed him.

he’s back in the kitchen with a sweatshirt and shorts on and he’s never found his own clothes so comfortable. maybe it’s because he can smell you on the fabric.

you’d only been cooking enough for one but at this point, you’re so happy to have him home that you’re plating up the whole thing for him as he sits at the dining table.

his chair scrapes back along the floor and he’s patting his thigh, simon eats his tea with you curled up in his lap telling him everything he’d missed.

apparently, old-mate next door broke up with his missus and it was quite the scene.

apparently, they finally finished the roadworks on the junction at the end of your street and there was no longer a blur of orange cones on the drive to work.

apparently, there was going to be a barbecue at the house down the street and the two of you were invited. you might make a salad to take with.

you could’ve been reading him the phonebook and simon would be a happy man. his hand was holding under your thigh and your face was in the crook of his neck.

he was home.

dishes done (together) and tea steaming on the coffee table in front of him, simon isn’t sure this couch has ever been this plush. he could melt into it, as long as it was just like this.

bare feet up on the ottoman and one arm wrapped around your side as your head lay against his chest. you could hear his heartbeat and he could hear the football you’d recorded for him whilst he was away.

deployment was fucking rough, seen and done things he didn’t even want to think about. but this is what he comes home to.

you.

you who curls up in his lap and idly twirls the drawstring of his shorts round your finger.

you who offered up all of your food to him to fill the pit that’d been growing in his stomach over the weeks.

you who couldn’t give less of a fuck about the football on tv but watches in quiet contentment for the sake of being closer to him.

you who doesn’t ask once about what happened while he was away but will always listen without judgement if he needs to get something off his chest.

ideally, simon would like to give you the world in return. then again, he doesn’t think even that’d be enough.

instead, he takes you up to your shared bed and, miraculously, he doesn’t fall asleep as soon as his back touches the mattress.

he could, very easily, but instead he pulls you down on top of him and gets his lips back on yours. the kiss when he came through the door had been passionate but it’d been fleeting.

simon had kept it like that, knowing if he spent a second longer with your tongue on his then he’d have you over the kitchen bench and that wasn’t what he wanted.

really, he wanted this. the full weight of you on top of him and your hips rolling messily against his as his hands went up underneath your his shirt.

he wanted to run his fingertips along your bare back and feel skin so soft he almost couldn’t remember the things his hands had done just last week.

he wanted to map out every spot, every freckle, every ridge across your shoulders and commit it to memory so the next time he had to up and leave he could trace you like a constellation in the night sky.

truthfully, simon didn’t want to leave next time. he wanted to get the call from price and tell him that he was sorry but he couldn’t do it any longer. he now had something- someone to live for and he just couldn’t gamble odds like he used to.

he wasn’t entirely sure he’d still hold the sentiment on the other side of blowing a load so simon put those thoughts in the back of his head and decided he’d work them out on tomorrow morning’s run.

right now, simon felt the soft skin of the inside of your cheeks and your spit tastes like the nectar those gods harped on about and he’s pulling hard on your hips as he rolled something hard between them.

you were moaning, whimpering, whinging into his mouth while you ground yourself into the hard line of his cock. raging erection didn’t even cover it and his head was tipping back as a-

yawn, deep and all consuming broke from his throat.

simon was fucking knackered.

exactly what he didn’t want to happen was happening in front of him, you were sitting up and cooing at him so fucking sweetly.

“si, you’re exhausted- we’ll go to sleep”

strong grip around your waist was anchoring you to the spot so you couldn’t climb out of his lap like you were currently trying.

“sweet’art”

you could hear it in his voice, he couldn’t even lift his head off the pillow. you conceded, however, letting him rub soft little circles into your hips.

“jus�� gimme’ one and then we’ll sleep”

laying back down against his chest, you felt the air woosh out of him as you relaxed your body on his. face fitting into the crook of his neck like you were made for him (you were) with a hand running along his collarbone.

“we’ve got tomorrow”

you knew it was futile, he was already slipping your shorts to the side. head tilting just a little to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“and i need you tonight”

settled.

you felt one large hand lift you up as his other freed his cock out his shorts. just enough, just enough to get the job done because any extra effort was going to render him unconscious.

bringing a hand to his mouth, he spit in his palm quickly before rubbing it along the head of his cock. deep groan rumbled beneath you as you felt him pressing against your entrance.

“lift y’top up, sweet’art- wanna’ feel y’on me”

you did him one better, leaning up enough to slip the shirt over your head and onto the floor. forcing him to hold his arms up for just a second, you pulled his sweatshirt off and discarded it in the pile.

bare chest to chest, you could feel simon shudder beneath you. snaking one arm under his armpit and the other around his ribs, you snuggled in tight as you felt him slip right in.

that’s all he wanted.

weeks of photos, videos, imagination to go off of. this was all he ever wanted. you so close to him that it was entirely possible to imagine the two of you as one. that there was no version of reality without you together in it.

lazily rolling his hips up into you as you met him halfway, rolling yours back down to share half of the load. simon’s arms wrapped around your back, keeping you close and keeping you moving against him.

“sorry love, s’not gonna’ be a long one”

you could only respond with a whimper, gently nodding your head into his neck as your lips press soft little kisses into the skin. you didn’t need a long time, you just needed him.

unable to help yourself from noticing the couple new scratches he’d come home with, your fingers idly traced along them as he sucked in a breath at the feeling.

what you wouldn’t give to keep him home and keep him safe.

a thought for another day as you felt yourself constricting around his cock, grinding yourself into his lap as firm muscle rubbed against your front.

tiny little gasps flitted from your mouth and into his ear, you could feel his body tensing up beneath you. it wasn’t just with sheer tiredness, you knew this man like the back of your hand.

left hand coming out from under where you’d buried it behind his back, you ran the tips of your fingernails down simon’s chest. you stopped at his nipple, gently scraping along the peaked flesh until you heard him.

“need y’to cum right now f’me please”

slipping your other hand between the two of you, you let your fingers wander against yourself until you could feel the tide breaking in the pit of your stomach.

body clenching involuntarily, your mouth dropping open against his skin. no doubt drool pooling against his collarbone as you came with a pathetic whimper. hips bucking a little crazy in his lap as his hand ran the length of your back.

“god that’s it, sweet’art”

simon went rigid, gripping you tight like you might go somewhere as the dams broke and he filled you up. hot and sticky and dripping out of you and onto the waistband of his shorts.

he fell so still the only way you’d know he was still alive was the rise and fall of his chest beneath you. his arms were already starting to fall limp around you.

coming back from the bathroom, slipping off the rest of your clothes and adding them to the pile. simon wasn’t asleep, there were no snores, but he had been rendered totally immobile.

pulling the remainder of his clothes off for him and settling in beside, you pulled the sheets up over the both of you as his arm began drawing you in.

draped across him, you could feel his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

“m’gonna’ rock y’world in the morning”

you snorted a little laugh, nuzzling in closer as his breathing starts to even out. no use in replying, snorings about the only answer you’re going to get.

not that you’d mind.

he was home.

[logically-asexual]

nathalie as that mom helping her kids with a difficult super mario level

[crunchchute]

My Sam & Max cosplay I debuted at a local con during the weekend!

[monod1cot]

Transfem Paracelsus

[worldsfastestcrouton]

More personal lamenting

We got a new puppy a couple days ago. He's extremely cute, and he's adjusting really well already. He seems to like us already, and he's slowly shifting from being nervous most of the time to actually acting like a puppy.

I like him a lot, and I'm happy we have him. But it was really hard when we were bringing him home. Not because of his behavior or anything, he's been really good so far. He's just a little bitty guy, and I realized that he weighs less than Ferbs ashes.

And I wish it would stop hurting