#there’s like so many to tag? is it fine if I don’t…

[softpascalito]

Comfort I Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: It is summer in Austin and you long for an uneventful day with Joel. Your diabetes has other plans.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Non-Explicit / MDNI Word count: 2.6k Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort , Fluff, Diabetes, Health Issues, Diabetic Reader, (reader wears a dexcom and uses insulin pens), Guilt, Soft Joel Miller, Hypoglycemia, Forehead Kisses, Comfort

AO3 LINK // Masterlist

notes: a huge, huge thank you to the wonderful @Rainybee17 for allowing me to learn more about diabetes and patiently answering all my questions. i have tried my best to make this oneshot a good representation and even though everyone's experience is different, i hope that someone can find themselves between these lines. smooches and happy sunday! ♡

this fic is not medical advice. if you or someone else is struggling with diabetes or if you'd like to learn more please visit the international diabetes federation or speak to your doctor.

Comfort

True to the weather forecast that you watched on TV with Joel last night, the temperatures in Austin have shot up overnight. The sun has barely risen, only a few thin streaks of light falling through the blinds that cover the window of your bedroom. Which is Joel's bedroom, really. But during the summer, it has evolved into something that feels more like yours rather than his.

You blink groggily, feeling the mattress dip beside you as Joel reaches over to shut his alarm clock off, the beeping noise that woke you dying down the moment his hand touches the button. A small noise leaves your throat in protest, your left leg still tangled between his and Joel turns back to face you. “Not today, darlin’. I gotta start goin’.”

Some days, your pouting works, keeping him in bed for a few minutes longer. But he takes his jobs seriously and you don’t blame him for wanting the heavy lifting done before the temperatures peak around lunchtime.

Joel’s beard scratches against your skin as he leans over to press a kiss to your face before he begins to carefully disentangle himself from you. His arm slides out from below you, his embrace that you were so peacefully resting in until a moment ago gone. He makes sure not to brush over the dexcom that is currently attached to your upper left arm, the white device peeking out from below the sheets. You can see him pause at the sight, his gears already turning. “Why don’t you get up too? Think I’ve got enough time to have a coffee.”

“Fine,” you groan, only reluctantly agreeing to his peace offer. It's not as good as staying in bed with him but you can always take a nap later and enjoy his presence while you have it. You peel the sheets off your body, padding over to the bathroom while you listen to Joel pull on jeans and a shirt that already has so many holes in it you don't bother to count them anymore.

You’ve settled into a comfortable routine during the summer months, even with him leaving early and coming home late. With Sarah at football camp, you have the house all to yourself, a luxury you enjoy more than you’d like to admit. You’ve spent countless days lounging in the backyard or swimming a few laps around the pool, occasionally preparing a fancy dinner for Joel or making yourself useful in any other way. He drinks coffee by his kitchen window every morning, unless he’s running late. Today, you join him, hopping up onto the counter as the sun steadily rises and the first cars are started up outside, bringing people to work.

You remind him to give you a kiss every day, despite knowing that he’d never forget. No matter if you’re in the kitchen with him or still in bed or already nose-deep in a book. Without fail, Joel Miller finds you before he leaves.

“We’re finally getting that delivery today,” Joel hums, swirling the last sips of his coffee around in his mug. “If the load ‘s good, I could get off early.”

“That would be nice,” you agree softly, rubbing the last bit of sleep out of the corners of your eyes. “Think I’ll take a dip in the pool later.”

“Then I better be home to see that,” Joel teases as he turns his back to you, washing his mug out in the sink. Then, he leans over to kiss you again and it only makes you long for him more. You’re certain he feels the same.

“You check your levels?” He hums into your neck and oh, he’s gotten smart, asking when he knows you won’t push him away.

“All good,” you reassure him. Some days, you think he is more occupied with your condition than you are, fussing over you and reminding you to track your sugar and insulin constantly. It’s gotten annoying occasionally, but you know he only does it because he cares. And if you’re being honest with yourself, that is a big part of why he has become your favorite person rather quickly.

You watch as Joel grabs his tool belt and heads out the door, giving you one little last wave. Then, you listen to the truck start up outside and the sound of the engine that slowly fades away into the distance.

“Fine,” you mutter to yourself, jumping off the kitchen counter to reach for your phone. You prefer tracking with the dexcom sensor, the device making it so easy to check your levels at all times. Today, you’re in the clear. The number inside the small circle in the app reads 110.

The blue insulin pen is waiting for you beside the fridge, placed on a small wooden tray that conveniently showed up there the first time you slept over. It holds a few small juice boxes, glucose tablets and your trusted pen.

You stare at it for a few moments, weighing it in your hands as you calculate how much you’ll need for your breakfast. Then, with practiced ease, you poke yourself with the needle, allowing the chosen amount of liquid to flow into your body.

“Ten minute warning…” You hum, putting the pen back into its place and reaching for the kitchen shelf instead. You’ve gotten much better at timing your breakfast properly, making sure that the insulin doesn’t act too fast nor too slow.

Once you’re done eating, you check the number again. 160. All fine, just like you promised Joel. Good.

It’s still early but you don’t feel like going back to bed. Thursday means the farmer’s market is happening at the local community center and for once you may be early enough to have the first pick. The fresh fruits and vegetables have a tendency to bring mouth-watering recipe ideas for dinner to your mind so you lock the front door behind you and head out.

Indeed, the stands are not yet picked over and you take your time, enjoying the nice weather and chatting with a few familiar faces. The short trip turns into a few hours and it’s only when the heat starts to press down on you below the plastic tents that you make your way back. The groceries are unloaded rather quickly and you fetch your current read, a book about a spontaneous summer love in Italy, from upstairs.

It’s been exactly the kind of uneventful day you enjoy in the summer, the one that leaves you feeling warm and tanned and thankful for pools and cool drinks. The way it should be. You have no idea that this is about to change.

The deck at the back of the Miller’s house is shaded so that you don’t feel like you’ll immediately burn up in the sun. A soft groan of relief escapes you as you stretch out on the lounge chair, opening your book to where you left off. You read about cicadas and pine trees and steady waves rolling ashore and slowly but surely, your eyes begin to droop.

***

Something is wrong. The sun is much lower than it was a few minutes ago. The front door opens and closes. Joel can’t be back yet. It’s still lunchtime.

For a moment, you think you are just too sleepy, that you are still in some kind of dream. Then, you think you’ve spent too much time in the sun. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that the way you’re feeling, a bit hazy, a bit like you’re floating– it’s low sugar.

You blindly reach to your right, onto the wooden table beside you but your phone isn’t in reach. When you turn your head, you realize why. You never brought it outside. It’s still on the kitchen counter, where you left it after unloading the groceries.

Slowly, you stand, looking down to see that your legs are trembling slightly. You force them to take one step after another, coaxing your body in an attempt to stay upright. You can already hear the soft beeping noise from inside the house that alerts you to a number outside the safe range. You push past the screen door– but before you can reach the kitchen, and with it your phone, Joel reaches you.

His eyes are wide, the panic clear on his face as he holds your phone in his right hand, the alert on the display blinking in a steady rhythm, displaying a too low 63. “Did you eat?” He presses out, his free hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, steadying you. The worry in his voice is palpable and you shake your head at his question.

“Okay, okay–” The gears are turning in his head and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself. “Okay. We need– Do you need me to get the emergency pen?”

“No,” you quickly decline. “No, it’s okay, it’s not that bad.”

You can see him weighing his options, his eyes raking over your face and your body for a moment, no doubt trying to assess your state. You know you’re shaking and that your face likely looks drained, a thin sheen of sweat covering it. His gaze turns to the kitchen next and you can see him fight with himself. Ultimately, Joel steps forward, wrapping an arm around you and leading you into the living room, his grasp not leaving you until you’re securely seated on the couch. “Can’t have you passing out now. Don’t try and stand, alright? Just … sit tight.”

He puts your phone down and rushes to the kitchen, leaving you alone with the low number on the display that almost seems to laugh at you. What were you thinking, dozing off like that?

Joel is back after mere seconds, holding up a juice box in one hand and the package of glucose tablets in the other, silently letting you choose. You point at the juice and he nods, kneeling in front of you and sticking the thin plastic straw into the pre-punched hole. “One apple juice, coming right up.” You can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood but you can’t bring yourself to give him more than a weak smile in return.

He nudges the box into your hands and then sits patiently as you begin to drink, one of his hands coming to rest on your thigh, his thumb drawing lazy circles into your skin. “15 – 15 rule, right?” Joel asks and at the look of surprise on your face, he adds; “15 grams of carbs, wait for 15 minutes. Then see if it helped?”

“Yeah,” you agree in between small sips. “Yeah, how do you know about 15 – 15?” You watch as a faint blush spreads over his cheeks but he shakes his head, dismissing the question.

“Just do. It doesn’t matter.” His motions on your leg pause as you finish your juice, allowing him to take the empty carton from you and place it on the floor behind him. “You feelin’ any better, darlin’?” You can tell by his voice that he is still anxious, his entire attention zoned in on you. You lean back into the cushions, taking a deep breath, slowly calming down. You’ve been there before, you’ve gone into low numbers. But it never gets less scary.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him because you can still feel his gaze on you. “Not like this hasn’t happened before.” The dry comment is aimed to brush him off but it seems to do the opposite.

“No. I mean, yes, but it shouldn't be happening at all,” Joel shakes his head and ow. You know you messed up but hearing it from him stings more than you thought it would.

“You try tracking every meal every day and living with this– this–” You can feel you working yourself up, anger bubbling inside you, anger more than happy to find an outlet. But then your eyes fall onto Joel's face. And you see the moment his eyes widen in sheer panic.

“No, no, god no, that is not what I meant–” He stumbles over his words in an attempt to get them out. “I wasn't blaming you, I was saying that– that it's not fair. I just hate to see you suffer, that's all.” His brown eyes remind you so much of a kicked puppy that you almost want to cry.

A soft hoot from your phone makes you both turn your heads, the number 107 popping up. Back in range. Joel sighs in relief.

“Good. This is good.” He stretches slightly, one hand pressed against his lower back. “You want a nap?”

“Just had one,” you say quietly, avoiding his eyes.

“Right,” he hums, pinching the bridge of his nose for a few moments and you know he’s thinking again, trying to figure out what to do with you. Because of course you have to make a lovely summer’s day so difficult.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying and failing to keep the tears at bay. “I didn’t mean to ruin your evening, I know you had work–”

He cuts you off by squeezing your thigh once, shaking his head as he maneuvers himself onto the couch beside you. “Look at me, baby,” he coaxes you to shift towards him, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I never ever want to hear you apologizing for this again. It ain’t your fault, darlin’. Never was and never will be. And I’ve told you before, we’re in this together. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb, tutting quietly. His arms find their way around you and he pulls you into his chest, burying his nose in your hair, whispering sweet nothings into the otherwise silent room.

“How ‘bout we watch one of them movies you like so much?” Joel offers when he pulls back after a few minutes, his hand still intertwined with yours. You have movie night more often than not, but usually, he doesn’t let you pick. Nor you him. It's a middle ground, one that is found after quite a bit of discussion.

“You hate them,” you argue weakly, a small laughter slipping out. You’ve tried introducing Joel to Rom-Coms, the classics, the modern ones, those that he may not at first glance recognize as such. But so far, you haven’t hit his taste.

“Not today,” he hums with a small smile. “Today I promise I’ll love them.” You both chuckle quietly and he does let you pick, not once complaining as he kneels in front of the TV to start the movie. He keeps a watchful eye on you throughout the next roughly 90 minutes, getting you a glass of water and another snack when you need it, his arm comfortably wrapped around your shoulder like he’s not quite willing to let go.

“How did you know?” You ask into the near-silence when the credits are flickering over the screen, some love song quietly playing over them. “About the rule I mean.”

“Uh, let’s see–” Joel makes a face. “Might’ve read a book or two.”

You squeeze him a bit tighter at that. Because you know that people who see Joel in his truck or at the construction site may think he’s gruff and cold. You had similar worries when your eyes first landed on him. But you know how much he cares. About Sarah and about you, about being there in whatever way he can. No matter if it’s stocking up on juice or kissing you every morning or secretly reading books so he can understand you better. He’s here for it all. And so are you. Together.

Notes: thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please feel free to leave a comment or a follow ♡

[forsaken-headcanons]

You know what? I mustered up the courage to come off of anon just for this. (Not gonna tag myself, but knowing my writing style, it’s probably gonna be obvious who I am lol.)

So uh. I’m fine now, but for some context: I was kinda upset earlier. And like a perfectly normal person, I wrote some self-indulgent rarepair stuff to make myself feel better. And now I’m sharing it with you all! Hope you don’t mind :]

Elliot / John Doe

Elliot once ‘tamed’ a feral John by feeding him pizza. It was a complete accident, too. He was trying to give it to Shedletsky, but John got in the way. 

It didn’t stop him from attacking the others, unfortunately. But he did leave Elliot alone for the rest of the round.

Being able to neutralize a threat like that is a big deal, so you bet that Elliot tried that shi again. Through trial and error, he discovered that John’s favourite is a plain old cheese pizza.

John’s memories while feral are fuzzy at best, and complete blanks at worst. Thus, he enjoyed getting properly aquatinted with Elliot after he managed to snap out of it about halfway through a round.

Using that one ‘the killers share a cabin across the water from the survivors cabin’ hc, John and Elliot will sometimes “meet up” between rounds by standing on their respective docks and shouting across the water at one another. They’d chat for as long as they could about the most random of things, just enjoying each other’s company.

Elliot once found a way to get a box of cheese pizza over to the killers side, and the gesture almost brought John to tears.

Noob / 1x1x1x1

Since there’s only four killers (as of writing this), I imagine that there’s barely any breaks between being chosen for rounds. And if the Spectre’s feeling particularly mean, one killer might get chosen over and over and over- (totally didn’t experience a server once with like 4 or 5 Mafiosos that we got back to back.)

See where I’m heading with this? The Spectre ends up favouring 1x1x1x1 for a while, which leads to him being worked to the bone. I’d say ‘poor guy’, but this is probably karma at this point…

No one really thinks much about it until 1x just straight-up collapses of exhaustion during a round. That was the moment that everyone realized that the killers weren’t these unstoppable machines of death; that they were bound by the same rules mortals were.

Maybe it’s naivety. Maybe it’s curiosity. Maybe it’s something else entirely. But regardless, Noob’s the only one brave (or stupid) enough to approach a killer like this. The embodiment of hatred was clearly unhappy, but it’s not like he could hurt anyone in this state.

While the others did their thing, Noob kept watch over 1x. Mostly to make sure he didn’t start killing again, but also because a small part of him felt bad for the guy.

Even after the round ended and 1x got the rest he needed, Noob didn’t seem to fear him as much after that. It initially annoyed 1x1x1x1, but he eventually started to see the noob in a slightly different light when they offered themselves up after realizing that he hadn’t gotten a single kill in like, four rounds (not back to back this time, luckily. But still.)

1x eventually confronted Noob on their behaviour, and you know what he said? Noob admitted that he thought 1x could be a better (and less murder-y) person if he just had a friend. 

And the crazy thing is, they were kind-of right.

There. I said my piece. I was oddly scared about sharing these for whatever reason, but yeah. I like imagining these goobers doing silly things together, and I’m tired of pretending that I don’t/lh

(I should honestly write a fic for this or something. I have way too many ideas with these guys-)

Ahh, you're the fella who I see liking all of my posts. Hello there.

Really nice headcanons and really nice rarepairs. I hope you're alright now and whatever upset you is now dealt with.

[spashahoney]

Well-deserved shuteye for our fearless, gentle leader of the Autobots. Please make sure he gets his rest, heroes!

-

My piece for the To Be Gentle: an Optimus Prime Fanzine by @allsparkzines can now be viewed! Totally check out the fresh and funky zine about the hero of Cybertron! I had a whole lot of fun making it!

[azure-clockwork]

I love three houses discourse because I'm pretty sure everyone just picks their route based on which house leader they're the most gay for and then tries to defend their pick by pointing out the other sides's war crimes via twitter memes. Reader, all four of them do substantial quantities of war crimes. So many. We're just here because the woman with Issues and a big fuck-off axe said so, and then we gotta justify everything she did in the name of dismantling the class system. I mean, I'm here for that, but you could also try justifying Charm Man uses poison and perfidy to try to stop racism, A Sad Little Meow Meow gives no quarter instead of doing therapy, or the Thicc Pope tries to bring back her mom via human experimentation, depending on your tastes

[alvindraperzzz]

I get kind of annoyed when people say how much they miss YJ Cassie  and want DC to make her the way she was then, only to turn around and say how much they hate modern Cassie or how out of character they think she is. It doesn’t make sense. Since 2019, Cassie has been written more like she was in YJ than she has in a long time. This is a Cassie who isn’t weighed down by all the grief and trauma she went through in comics Graduation Day forward. She’s proactive and impulsive. She’s goofy and stubborn, acts like Diana and Donna’s little sister, and fangirls over superheroes. If something’s wrong then she’s going to interfere no matter who says she shouldn’t. She’s the closest DC is ever gonna get to bringing YJ Cassie back. If you don’t like her then maybe you should reassess whether you actually like the character, or if you only like the personality fandom assigned her based on a haircut she had twenty five years ago.

[sad-endings-suck]

and if I said that lots of mizu/akemi shippers are actually mizu/fem self-insert and mizu/fem oc shippers then what?

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

one one time my friend had a dream about the bomb gianni plush playing a trombone better then them. he was really upset about it in the morning

Thank you for being the only normal anon of the night <3

How did your friend lose to a plush with no arms though. Skill issue tbh

[cuteniaarts]

Digitalised + coloured + redesigned version of my Suiren and Vaatu sketch from two days ago, as promised!!

Coming up with Suiren’s design was a very long process of trying and failing because after you’ve drawn 9+ different versions of one character, the creativity starts to run a little dry, but I’m actually really proud of this one, she looks absolutely adorable <3

(Also yeah I did mostly just scribble Vaatu’s pattern because who has the energy to draw the all out accurately. Not me, that’s who, I’m chronically tired. People who draw him on the regular have my utmost respect. He’s still a funky little guy though :D)

Bonus, Raava incessantly screaming inside Suiren (and being completely ignored because Suiren is tired of her) while all this is happening:

[tmnt-on-the-mind]

they’re taking a break :)

[crossbackpoke-check]

inspired by @colap1nto <3 and posting here to hold myself accountable: writevember! attempting to write something every day no matter how much and what it is

i am however inventing stipulations for myself so i cannot weasel my way out of it, which includes a valid definition of “write”:

actively put words into a document in the form of a proper fic!!! too many wip not enough hands!!

poems (actually laughed at me coming up with this but maybe i will go back to my roots)

research/meta/primers

tag stories are permissible IF i actually compile and edit them into a readable document that day

editing to post to ao3 (the optimism) is also valid. it takes me so long

i do have concrete arbitrary deadlines for one and a half fics that i would LOVE to finish and post in november (dewey^2 and [redacted :)]) so i’m hoping this helps!! also, this is secretly just a sticker chart where i get to put down emojis for each fic i worked on and check off boxes but a win is a win

day 1:🪻🐈‍⬛

day 2: 😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜)

day 3:🫃2️⃣

day 4: 🍎

day 5:🫃2️⃣

day 6: 📑, 💌

day 7:🫃2️⃣ AND ☁️💧. who is she

day 8:🪻🐈‍⬛

day 9:🫃2️⃣

day 10:🫃2️⃣

day 11:🫃2️⃣ we are on a STREAK and also a countdown 🫡

day 12:🫃2️⃣

day 13:🫃2️⃣

day 14: 📬💍

day 15: 😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜)

day 16:🫃2️⃣

day 17: 🔴 ⚫️,🫃2️⃣

day 18:🪻🐈‍⬛

day 19:🪻🐈‍⬛, 😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜)

day 20:🫃2️⃣

day 21:🫃2️⃣, 🤫 🪽🃏

day 22:🫃2️⃣

day 23: 💯❕

day 24: 🪢

day 25: 🐛🏮🦋

day 26:🫃2️⃣

day 27:🫃2️⃣

day 28:🫃2️⃣

day 29:🫃2️⃣

day 30:🫃2️⃣

WRITEMBER RECAP: an overall sucess!!!! this was so much fun and really forced me to write even if it was only a little bit every day. like, to the point that i'm debating doing a cute little twelve days of christmas snippet fest. absolutely could not have finished and published dewey^2 p2 without this challenge or posted p3 :)

thirty days of writing

twelve different fics worked on

poems: 1

i have no word count for you sorry i wish i did but it is at least over a few thousand words!!!!

times i wrote for a day past midnight (making it technically the next day) but because i was still awake i counted it for that day: at least 17 if not closer to like. 25

tags i forgot what they mean: one. what the FUCK is 🪢??? OH MY GOD I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THAT IS NEVERMIND

duolingo streak (worked on the same fic in a row): 5

[cuteniarose]

ATLA for the ask game!!

*stares blankly at my screen as I try to remember the last time I've felt any strong emotion for an AtLA character*

(no genuinely those guys just kinda Exist to me istg I’m not invested even when I’m actively rewatching the show)

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most) – This one’s easy: Azula. One does not simply go through their teenage years as a severely mentally ill girl with a shitty dad and emotionally absent mom who favours the other child and end up normal about Azula lmao. I need any and every canon media to leave her the fuck alone. No I do not have a vision as to what happens to her post canon. Yes I do think that what the creators went with sucks ass and thus is not canon in my multiverse thank you very much

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped) – Appa. Just Appa. As a bonus, baby Appa. I need a plush of him more than I need to breathe (though Hanička might get to it so.. how good that idea is may be debatable). Oh, and The Duke. Have you ever seen him hugging Toph in the background of the last episode (I believe)?? Babies, absolute babies, they deserve the world, your honour

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave) – …. Mai? I feel like Mai doesn’t get enough love in the fandom. My current objective is trying to get the friend I’m making watch AtLA for the first time like her :P

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week) – Okay, I’m gonna be honest, I’ve thought over this one for a good 20 minutes and haven’t been able to come up with anything because I Genuinely Do Not Care That Much, but during this past rewatch I’ve been doing with my friends I have had a *Leonardo DiCaprio pointing meme* moment at every reference to Yangchen thanks to A CERTAIN SOMEONE, so… might not be me who never shuts up about her, but she still counts (though I did go on a small infodump when my friend asked me “which one’s that one?” during the Avatar State montage in Book 2 Episode 1, so… perhaps there is more of a case to be made here). Oh, and Smellerbee. I wanna know what Smellerbee’s deal is. No one ever talks about Smellerbee :/

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave) – Hama. Partially for Ming-Hua related reasons, partially because I’m obsessed with the concept of bloodbending (and yet cannot give two shits about Amon or Tarrlok 🤔 Hm, correction: the concept of bloodbending women :D), partially because I wholeheartedly believe that she was brought back to the South Pole and she and Kanna got to be lesbians together for whoever many years they had left – side note, how come every bloodbending woman is a lesbian? – and there’s a certain subsection of the fandom who have proven to not be able to be normal about victims of colonisation, hence the “problematic” category. (Also… not a character, but the Great Divide is a fun episode and you all are way too mean about it. Yes, it does have some.. questionable implications, but all the arguments about how it doesn’t further the plot are stupid as fuck because IMO, if we have time for half a dozen random Fire Nation adventures and a whole episode dedicated to Zuko’s sob story and the trashfire that Ember Island Players is, we have time for the Great Divide. Argue with a wall)

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason) – Zuko. This is because I do not like him. No further commentary lest this fandom tear me to pieces. And Jet. This is also because I do not like him. And Sokka. But I actually do like him, I just think it’s funny when he suffers (/affectionate)

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell) – Pakku. It has been 11 years since I watched AtLA for the first time and never once have I been convinced that Kanna actually married him. Absolutely not, to superhell with you. If there’s any NWT waterbender who deserves to get with Kanna, it’s Yugoda. Hama/Kanna/Yugoda polycule when???

[scionshtola]

tbf i do think the story could have given the wol more of a connection to it/the antagonist outside of solely through wuk lamat and that probably would have alleviated a lot of ppl’s problems with it

[electragapi]

I’m so over the dismissal of Louis as a character on his own, the constant misinterpretations of Louis, the unwarranted villainizing of Louis (not saying he’s an angel, but blaming him for things that are not his fault), the sidelining of Louis, all of it!!!!!!!!!!! and it’s almost always just in service of boosting Armand or Lestat🙄🙄🙄🙄 Stop it!!!!!!!!

[acesammy]

Honestly growing up is realizing that normal people don’t have to set timers to remember they’re cooking ramen… which notoriously only takes 3 minutes to cook… and maybe I do have adhd

[no1ryomafan]

With more older anime I watch that’s specifically about androids the more I noticed all the influence mega man pulled from it despite it not being a anime nor the robot timeline ever getting a proper anime but I think what gets me more then “the basis of mega man is like astro boy, casshern and POSSIBLY kikaider all in a blender with mega man x making the second two inspos more apparent” is realizing how many villain characters inspired proto man.

You have the obvious one, char from Gundam, you have rock holmes from Astro boy who’s not a confirmed one but seems to track given classic takes a lot of Astro boy influence and then you have Saburo from Android kikaider, the most likely inspo for proto in EVERY category- and then you remember how while these characters are evil for a complex reason, proto man really shines to be different as he changed his ways. He’s still a rival to his “brother” in a sense but bass takes more of the role of the evil mega man, while proto just watches from afar and comes in to help when he thinks he’s needed.

I’m going to rotate this red robot fuck for awhile again FUCK

[trueloveandy]

feeling inadequate about my writing tonight