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spicyspiders · 9 months

Text

not a chance to slow down

Peter Quill x male reader smut

1.8k words

Tags: unprotected sex and age difference

A/N: I’ve been obsessed with Star-Lord since I played the Guardians of the Galaxy game around the beginning of the year. The one written about here though is from the MCU and was pretty much inspired by some gifs I saw and couldn’t stop thinking about lol. I’ll probably end up writing something about Adam Warlock too because how could I not when Will Poulter looks as good as he does.

The first time you spoke to Peter, it was in passing. You were tired and cranky, having driven many miles to get home during your summer break from school. You were on your last box when he came out of his house.

“Nice shirt,” you said casually when he walked by you.

“Thanks!” His eyes darted down to the box you held, “you need some help with that?”

“This is the last one, thankfully,” you answered and used one hand to wipe the sweat that had gathered on your brow.

“I wish I knew you needed help, I definitely would’ve been out here to help you,” the man responded.

You couldn’t help but eye him over. With how broad his shoulders looked, you’re sure he would’ve been able to help without getting as sweaty as you did.

“I appreciate that, but it’s okay,” you said, sending him a smile, “that mail does look pretty heavy after all.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” the man responded, and raised the few pieces of mail like a dumbbell, making his bicep flex.

It was probably from the time you spent in your car making you go a little crazy, but the man’s joke made you laugh harder than you expected. The other man’s face went red as you laughed, but after a second, he almost looked smug, like he was happy his joke had such a reaction.

“So,” the man says when your laughter has died down, “you here for the summer?”

“Yeah. After a long semester, I’m finally home,” you said, sending a grateful smile toward your house.

“Well, I’m happy to be the first person to welcome you back,” he says, sending you a soft smile.

You didn’t want to tell the man that he wasn’t the first person you saw since you’ve been home, instead, a smile matching the one the man wore landed on your lips. “Who do I have to thank for such a warm welcome?”

“Peter Quill, at your service,” he said, adding a bow.

You couldn’t help but laugh again at the display. You introduced yourself around the fit of giggles as Peter went on to laugh at himself.

“Let me know if you need any help unpacking,” Peter called from his door after you walked up your respective driveways. “Hopefully I’ll be seeing a lot more of you,” Peter said as he stood in the open doorway.

“I hope so too,” you responded, sending one last smile his way before you closed the door. The smile on your face lasted until you got to your bedroom, and fell once you were reminded of all of the boxes you needed to unpack.

Though you were tempted to walk out of your house and head next door to see if Peter would come to help you unpack your boxes, you didn’t end up seeing him until the next day.

“Are you on mail duty too?” Peter asked as he leaned against his mailbox.

“It’s one of my most important responsibilities. Nice robe, by the way,” it was pretty boring as far as robes go with its plain white color, but you weren’t about to tell Peter that.

“You like it?” Peter twists himself to the left and right to make sure you have a full look at the garment, “I just bought it.”

“Am I the first to see you in it?” You ask in surprise.

“You are. I saved it just for you.”

You let out a chuckle, though you weren’t sure if Peter was being serious, “what’s it gonna be tomorrow?”

Peter crosses his arms over his chest, looking away with an intense look of thought on his face, “I could break out my birthday suit, but that’s reserved for my bedroom and the bathroom.”

You look at him with your brows raised, a slow smile spreading across your face, “I think I would get pretty lonely if you got arrested for doing that, so I’d think of something else to wear.”

“Or you could come up to my room and I could just show you, that way I don’t have to think of what I should wear to impress you,” Peter said with a smirk.

“I know thinking can be hard at your age, so that sounds like a good idea.”

Peter’s smirk morphed into a look of offense, “how old do you think I am?”

“You were wearing a Metallica shirt yesterday.”

“So? They’re a good band, that doesn’t make me old,” Peter responded.

“How old are you?”

Peter looked away, and glanced at the mail you held in your hand before looking back at you, “40,” he answered before looking away again.

“You’re not that old at least,” you responded, smiling when Peter shook his head.

You couldn’t ignore the nervous feeling that started to sink in when you stepped up to the man, “I have to put this inside then I’ll be over, okay?”

Peter nodded, sending you a small smile, “better hurry, you don’t want me getting any older, do you?”

You meant it when you said Peter wasn’t that old. It even made more things about him make sense, like his taste in shirts, and the way his eyes crinkled yesterday when he laughed at his joke. What didn’t make sense, or really, what you didn’t expect, was the way that he fucked you.

It almost reminded you of the guy you went home with last semester. Like the guy you went home with, Peter fucked you fast and hard. You honestly expected it to be over just as quickly as that last time, but when Peter rolled over onto his back and sat you down on his cock, you let out a punched out noise of surprise.

“Tired?” You asked.

Peter grinned, “I’m not as young as I used to be,” he said, running his hands up and down your thighs. When he pulled his hands away, he crossed them behind his head, looking relaxed.

You watched in confusion as Peter lay there. When his eyes fell shut, you clenched down on his cock, hoping to get the man back into action, but he stayed still. When you clenched back down on his throbbing cock, that’s when Peter’s eyes opened again to watch you.

“That all you’re going to do?” Is that enough to get you off?” He asked with a smirk.

“Fuck you,” you snipped back. You knew from the first time that you brought yourself up with your thighs that they would quickly start to ache, but it only spurred you on. You fell back down after bringing yourself up with a moan, feeling as if the cock inside you went deeper than the poison that you were just in.

“There you go, baby,” Peter said, his smirk now a toothy smile, “I knew you had it in you,” he said, still just fucking laying there.

In retaliation for his stillness, you reached down to twist at one of his nipples with your fingers, but it only made Peter let out a groan filled with pleasure. You took to settling your hands on his broad chest, finding purchase to help fuck yourself down on his cock.

You didn’t expect after only having met yesterday that you would be bouncing up and down on his cock the next day. You could see when you met him yesterday how broad his shoulders and chest were, but now, seeing it uncovered from the shirt he wore yesterday, and the bathrobe he wore today, you could see the way his muscles were covered with a soft layer of fat.

Your head fell back as you let out moans as the cock inside you hit your prostate as you filled yourself to the brim over and over again.

When the inevitable burn in your thighs began to set in, you paused to lean down and press your lips to Peter’s. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his cock throb against your prostate, even as you sat still.

Peter answered with a noise of his own and moved his hands back down to your hips. He traced his fingers over the sensitive skin of your hips bones, making you shudder, and once the kiss was over, his hands moved to the globes of your ass.

Peter gripped the skin tightly and used the harsh grip to lift you before he loosened his grip so you could fall back down.

You felt your body go boneless in his arms from the effort that you had put in, but with the way that Peter lifted you so he could fuck his cock in and out of your hole, you were happy to let go under the effort he gave.

You panted into his sweaty neck, letting out little grunts as you tried to still fuck yourself back down on his cock. You could feel yourself approaching the edge, too focused on that to respond when Peter turned his neck to connect your lips.

In reprisal, Peter bit harshly into your bottom lip before he soothed the mark over with his tongue. The headboard slammed into the wall as Peter thrust over and over into your tight, warm hole. The sound was accompanied by the slick sound of sweaty skin on skin.

When you leaned up, Peter followed so he could stay close and connect your lips. You tried your best to keep up, but ended up with your forehead pressed to his as you panted into his mouth once the kisses were over.

With one hand still braced on his chest, you used the other to wrap your fingers around your cock. After a few tugs of your cock to the rhythm of Peter’s thrusts, your back arched and your head fell back as your orgasm washed over you.

You opened your eyes during the aftershocks as Peter chased you into orgasm. He held your asscheeks in a bruising grip as he thrust inside your hole. You almost wanted to open your mouth and let out a whimper of pain at the grip he held you in, but he soon relaxed as he fell over the edge.

Peter gave one final thrust when he let go of your ass, instead moving his hands to your back so he could pull you close. He groaned over and over again, each noise ending with a breathy moan as he came deep inside you.

You buried a hand in his sweaty hair as he ducked his head down into the crook of your neck. Peter held you close even after his cock had gone soft, his only movement being a slight shift for his cock to slip free.

You felt warm and sticky in his arms. You knew Peter had a mess that coated his chest from where your cock had shot ropes of cum, and you knew that you were equally messy where Peter’s cock had been, but you didn’t want to move.

Peter fell back down to the bed with a groan before pulling your body down on top of his. Though he wrapped you tightly in his arms, you still couldn’t contain your shiver as everything on and leaking out of you began to cool.

Peter gave a low chuckle, “did I not warm you up enough?”

You pressed your smile into the sweaty crook of his neck, “I might need your bathrobe.”

#x male reader #x male reader smut #peter quill x male reader #peter quill x male reader smut #star lord x male reader #star lord x male reader smut

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reilikeslifting · 6 months

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This is the person who just did their first lift, I totally forgot to ask but, do you have any tips for new lifters ^^

of course! and congrats!!!

new l!fting tip #1: tumblr 101

no tags!!! do not tag ur posts, it makes it easier for non-l!fters to find and report l!fters

censor out brands and l!fting terms!! such as dn@, 3B, etc. (dn@ is did not arrive and 3B is empty box!!! different l!fting methods)

never ever put any defining objects in your photos if you are gonna post! make sure its the haul and ONLY the haul.

remove exif data from your photos so they can’t be traced, personally i dont do think bc im lazy but you should!

don’t put your total in your bio! i used to do this bc i liked to tell ppl i saved $20k-$30k over the year but it’s not smart to flaunt that you’re over the felony limit!

next, #2: how to lyft

so you’ve already completed your first lyft (woohoo proud of u!!) but how can you go about being safer and smarter?

my first tip is always scan the school for cameras! be sneaky tho don’t like just stare at the ceiling, but yk get a feel for how many cameras, what type, and what direction they’re facing. most places are gonna have the dome cameras, those are the worst because they see in every direction. always always try to body block if possible. either get someone else to block you or duck behind something while you’re concealing. better to not be caught on cam!!

nobody in that store is your friend, remember that. always assume that customers are plain clothes LP (disguised security) and always assume that sales associates WILL rat you out. don’t think “oh well it’s just me and one other person in the aisle it’ll be fine” because it’s gonna be the one time it’s not fine.

on that note, be kind to everyone. this isn’t just a lyfting tip it’s a rule i live by but just be kind. they’re gonna suspect you much less if you smile and answer questions and compliment them if you feel so inclined, just be a nice person. i believe this is one of the reasons i’ve never been caught, i’m just very friendly.

concealing!!! where to conceal? i personally like using my bag most often. your bag is important too!!! i use one off amazon (you can type like kawaii heart school bag and it’ll pop up, its black and has a big heart cut out for pins) but i dont have any pins because i dont want it to be too identifiable. its purse enough for people not to tell me to take it off (a lot of places don’t allow backpacks) but big enough to fit a LOT of stuff. structured bags are always a good idea too! that way people won’t be able to tell if you’ve put anything in there. i like to conceal in aisles without cameras most often, but if i have to body block sometimes i’ll put stuff up my sleeves first! another idea is to use a shopping bag from another store. this way people will think you’ve just already bought stuff! the target ones are my favorite since they’re opaque<3

onto the next section, #3: all about tags

de-tagging is definitely a more experienced lyfting practice but you can definitely start with rfids!!

rfids are gonna be the little metal wires in plastic, paper, or sticker tags. these are very common and you’ll see them at places like w4lmart or t4rget. these are easily removable by either cutting them off or disabling them with a magnet. you don’t NEED any tools while lyfting, but some of them can come in handy. if you do find yourself with a magnet, to disable rfids you just need to swipe your magnet against the tag. if you don’t have one, simply cut the metal wire in half. you can use scissors or nail clippers or cuticle nippers or whatever you might have!! if you can’t cut them, simply remove them and i personally stick the tag in the pocket of a really ugly item on clearance so that it hopefully goes unfound for a while!

hard tags! hard tags are any tag from the solid tags you find usually on clothes to spider tags you find on electronics or wire tags on jewelry at hot topic, etc. these all require tools to remove. some will require a magnet, others will require hooks, but it’s definitely worth looking into if you decide to branch out on your journey.

brief mention, #3.5: booster bags!

booster bags are small bags lined with many layers of foil to prevent signals from reaching the towers. just in case you didn’t know, towers are the tall sensors by the front door when you walk in! with a booster bag, you can put any kind of tagged item you want, zip it up, and walk out without beeping. you need many layers however!! the way to test if your bag works it by putting your cell phone in there and asking someone to call you. if the call goes through, there aren’t enough layers!! once the call doesn’t go through you’re set! this however is a more advanced trick so please be careful if you’re gonna try this!

lastly, #4 online “shopping”!

so you’ve heard of dn4ing or empty boxes, well lemme tell you what it all means! did not arrive is when you purchase an item, wait for it to arrive, and then message the carrier and tell them it never arrived. typically our goal here is to get a refund, but any times they wont be as easily persuaded and you’ll end up with a replacement instead. however it’s not impossible and many places are easier others. if you think you wanna try this, she!n or am4zon are a good place to start!! if she!n opens an investigation, it’s just a bluff, go with it!

empty box is another form of online lyfting, it’s when you tell the carrier that your item arrived with nothing in it. the process is similar to the first one, message the carrier etc. however just claim that it’s an empty box!

I HOPE ALL THESE TIPS HELPED PLS LET ME KNOW<333 LOVE YOU GUYS STAY HEALTHY AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES

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fernsnailz · 1 year

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i love reading your sonic loreposts i was wondering if you could please explain archie charmy to me, i have heard stuff and i am so curious but i am not a comics in general kinda person. the lsd poisoned friend or the brain damage literally just anything that happens to him your pick

hi anon i’m just going to go over everything that happens to archie charmy pre-reboot so i hopefully never have to talk about it after this. i'm sorry i'm so so sorry

Archie Charmy is subject to a lot of controversy and discussion because despite his limited role in the comics, he goes through some of the most batshit insane character and plot beats in the whole series (and that you’ve already mentioned). I’ll be skimming over some of the more boring parts, but the wild stuff I'll go pretty in-depth with.

I’ll also be attempting to explain WHY all of this happens to Charmy Bee of all characters, taking into account the context of the story, what was happening behind the scenes in the writer’s room, and even comic trends in general. I want to try and keep away from the very reactionary “wow archie sonic is sooooo crazy” discussion that happens around this stuff and hopefully provide a little more useful analysis. i talk about comic PSAs for a while so be warned

There are some very, very important content warnings that are coming with Archie Charmy lore: warning for non-consensual drug use and overdose (specifically LSD), child death, genocide, implied ableism, memory loss, implied age regression, breif homophobia mention (not related to charmy)

this is going to be a very long one. charmy lore under the cut

INTRODUCTION - CHAOTIX

Charmy Bee’s first appearance in Archie Sonic is in the Knuckles’ Chaotix special, which adapts the first game he appeared in. This issue introduces the entire Chaotix cast (six new characters) in a mere four pages, so Charmy doesn’t make much of an impression other than “bee who likes to explore and adventure.” He lacks that annoying little brother personality that he has in most Sonic media, and he’ll often speak with language that feels extremely out of character for the Charmy that most people know.

This is because this version of Charmy is based off of his character description from the Knuckles’ Chaotix game manual. Despite the series being based off of the video game franchise, the Archie Sonic writers were often given very little information about upcoming game releases from SEGA when they were asked to adapt them into the comics. Often they had to go digging for the canonical materials themselves - for example, the only way they were able to adapt Sonic Adventure into the comics is because Patrick Spaziante (one of the comic’s artists) had a Japanese version of the game that he bought himself. They had no English translation and zero guidance from SEGA, so they had to attempt to piece the story together without SEGA's help. This was the case with most of the game adaptations, and it was honestly a miracle that they had access to the manual for Knuckles’ Chaotix at all.

There’s just one problem: the manual for Knuckles’ Chaotix describes a version of Charmy that is very, very different from the one we know of today. It describes a 16-year old that is… sophisticated?

(sorry for the low quality, there aren't many images of the manual. also fun fact, there was no age for Charmy listed in the original Japanese manual)

Charmy's differing age and personality will lead to many, many problems, as the writers decided to give the “sophisticated” Charmy darker stories. This brings us to the Knuckles the Echidna mini-series.

The Knuckles mini-series is. Bad. Charmy Bee is certainly there for the first few issues (as are most of the Chaotix), but he doesn’t get much focus until issue 13.

I don’t know how to put this in a way that doesn’t sound extremely blunt: This is the issue where Charmy’s best friend overdoses on LSD and dies.

PART 1 - MELLO

Charmy's best friend is named Mello Bee. This is his first and last appearance in the series.

Mello started feeling strange on their return trip from Happyland, a sketchy theme park that recently reopened under new management. Charmy isn't sure why Mello died, but Constable Reminton (essentially the sheriff of Echidnopolis) reveals that there have been a series of cases similar to Mello's - cases where people were suffering from… Lemon Sundrop Dandelion poisoning.

The Chaotix go to Happyland to see if they can find the source of the poisoning, but what they don't know is that it's actually laced into the food. The manager of Happyland, Renfield T. Rodent, has been lacing the park's chili dogs with LSD in hopes of making everyone addicted to them. However, the amount of LSD he's been putting into the food is too much for most people to handle. This is probably the most insane paragraph I've had to write for one of these loreposts

Unknown to the Chaotix, they all start eating the chili dogs during their investigation (except for Julie-Su and Knuckles, who is absent) and start tripping balls.

Continuing the story into issue 14, Charmy’s LSD trip reveals that he’s actually the prince of a bee colony and has been running away from his responsibilities as a member of the royal family.

Charmy is knocked out for the rest of this arc as he goes through his trip - they have to operate on him and some other stuff happens I guess (Julie-Su gets thrown off of a roof, Knuckles fights some guys in a desert, Vector is a misogynist, stuff like that). At the end of issue 15, Charmy learns from his trip and returns to his family, temporarily leaving the Chaotix to return to his royal duties. Mello's family and his all mourn Mello's death and bury him back at their home.

So. What was the fucking point of all that

In the long-term, Charmy returning home to his family essentially writes him out of the story for a while. Knuckles the Echidna issue 15 released in 1998, and Charmy doesn't really return until 2001. While I'm not entirely sure what the reason for this was, there were so many members of the Chaotix that I honestly think this was an okay decision.

However, there's one very important question left to answer: Why was LSD and a drug overdose included in this arc at all?

When I first read this arc, I had a burning thought that I couldn't get out of my mind:

PART 1.5 - wait is this an anti-drug PSA?

(if you want to avoid me talking in-depth about the abilities of LSD and my ramble about comic PSAs for a while, you can skip to PART 2 where I continue the Charmy lore)

Comic PSAs (Public Service Announcements) and propaganda are a fundamental part of the medium’s history, whether it be to aid their country’s war efforts, give health information to their readers, or warn kids about the dangers of drug abuse. While a comic being used as a PSA isn’t inherently a bad thing, it’s usually VERY obvious. One of the most interesting ones I've found is a PSA that features Green Lantern debunking misinformation about the AIDS crisis. The image quality isn’t great, but the comic doesn’t hold back when talking about how the AIDS crisis is spreading homophobic ideology - if you read this, you know it’s a PSA and you know what message it’s trying to send. Sometimes propaganda can be subtle, but PSAs are usually loud.

(cw: homophobia)

This is why anti-drug PSAs are so common and so remembered - they’re over the top, they’re blunt (lol), and they have a very specific message they’re trying to send. For example, there’s an issue of New Teen Titans from 1983 that introduce a character called the Protector to teach kids about drug awareness where the issue literally starts with the Teen Titans in an auditorium telling kids about a dangerous drug. This issue also includes some bad trip imagery, and it’s uh… honestly i kinda love this

Anti-drug PSAs usually don’t work for this very reason - showing how a drug affects fictional characters can increase interest in the substance, and a single superhero telling someone to stop smoking is not going to break someone’s addiction.

So. Is Knuckles the Echidna issues 13-15 an anti-drug PSA?

Probably not, but if it is it’s doing a fucking terrible job of it

Some of the main factors of a PSA are the information it's presenting, the opinion it wants the consumer to develop, and the bluntness of its presentation. While this part of the Knuckles series is certainly over the top, the rest of these factors are really muddy. First, anti-drug PSAs usually don’t create a fake drug to replace the one they’re advising against. An anti-weed campaign will just tell you that weed is bad because that’s the opinion it wants you to walk away with. So when Knuckles issue 13 introduces a substance called “Lemon Sundrop Dandelion” and never actually refers to it as LSD, it’s less of a message about “drug bad” and more just a sly nudge and wink that goes “hey you see that? yeah, that’s drug.”

Then there’s the problem that there isn’t really much of a lesson to be had from these issues regarding drug use. Yes, Mello dies horrifically of an overdose, but most of the cast is able to walk off the trip like it’s nothing. Charmy needs to be operated on, but the doctors literally treat it like it’s fucking NOTHING

he's literally talking about how he told a patient that couldn't afford surgery to go to the butcher like HUH?????

In fact, Charmy’s trip seems to help him in the long run - he’s forced to face his past, and eventually returns to his family because of the literal guilt trip he has. It’s a fundamental part of his character arc.

This isn’t to say that I wish these issues were explicitly drug PSAs - I bring all of this up because these issues were released in 1998, in an era where the anti-drug movement was arguably at its peak. The people working on these comics would KNOW its content is similar to and even promotes the anti-drug movement. While I don't consider these issues to be an anti-drug PSA, they can definitely serve as anti-drug propaganda.

With this in mind, considering Knuckles the Echidna as a form of propaganda really opens up how utterly terrible these issues are. These comics can be genuinely harmful pieces of anti-drug propaganda because the way they use LSD to advance they plot is untrue to how the drug actually works and relies entirely on fear mongering. While LSD can be laced into other substances like drinks, it probably wouldn't last long in cooked meat - LSD usually degrades at higher temperatures, and telling comic readers that they need to be afraid of LSD-laced fair food is fucking stupid and likely based on false urban legends. Not only that, but Renfield T. Rodent’s plot to addict everyone to his LSD chili dogs is also fucking stupid because LSD is not considered an addictive substance. It can be extremely dangerous at high or multiple doses, but LSD does not normally lead to compulsive use.

I don’t talk about all of this to be a cinemasins guy or to nitpick a comic from 1998, and I also don't want to imply that PSAs can't spread lies and misinformation (anti-drug PSAs famously over-exaggerate things). I bring all of this up to show an ineffective and possibly dangerous use of something that could be considered anti-drug propaganda. Spreading blatantly untrue information and placing false fears into a reader’s mind is truly incompetent on the writer’s behalf, especially considering that this comic was targeted at kids. And that’s not even mentioning that there’s barely any moral to all of this. There’s no lesson and they never talk about this again.

Do I think this was all intentional on the behalf of the writers? I have no idea. I have no goddamn idea what they were thinking with this one, and I honestly don't think much thought was put into this arc at all. Maybe this was a strange attempt to make a Sonic-themed anti-drug PSA, maybe they were just inspired by the drug PSAs of their time when writing this, or maybe they just did not care. I don't know man. Anti-drug propaganda is stupid and it doesn't work and these comics drive me crazy

alright enough of that. let's talk about genocide

PART 2 - SAFFRON

don’t worry this part will be shorter (cheering and clapping)

Like I mentioned a while back, Charmy is essentially written out of the story for a while after the Mello incident. While living in the Golden Hive Colony, he reunites with another friend, Saffron Bee. Saffron becomes Charmy’s girlfriend, and they’re together for basically the rest of the comic. Usually if Charmy shows up, Saffron is there too.

(image of Charmy and Saffron I stole from... the Shipping Wiki??)

They eventually return to help Chaos Knuckles, a green version of Knuckles who is uh. Kinda going through it. Not much important Charmy lore needs to be discussed here, but some of his actions do eventually lead to him creating a genocidal villain that will cause many problems later. Don’t worry about it.

Things are quiet for a while for Charmy and Saffron. That is, until Eggman attacks their colony and wipes out most of its population.

Charmy and Saffron are the only survivors we see from the Golden Hive Colony. Eggman transforms the colony into a new base and traps its residents in an invention of his called the Egg Grapes - basically, he puts Mobians in these little pods that sap all of their life force, powering his empire. Most people do not survive the Egg Grapes.

The two bees return to join the Chaotix for a little while, and the rest of the Chaotix confirm that the Golden Hive Colony and its residents are truly gone. Espio destroys what’s left of the colony so Eggman can’t use it as a base, and no other survivors from the colony are found.

So. yeah what the fuck

Archie Sonic is known to have a LOT of characters - I’ve talked about the sheer number of echidnas the series has before, but there are a lot of characters that have massive extended families. The arc where Mello died introduced like eight new bee characters, but most of them were background characters that didn’t need to stick around.

Most people cite writer Ian Flynn’s debut to the series as when a lot of these unneeded/background characters were written out or killed off, and I agree since one of his objectives as a writer was to tighten up the story. However, the trend of “Archie background characters getting killed off or written out” started a little bit before he joined the team. There’s the destruction of the Golden Hive, and many echidnas in this arc suffer from the horrors of war - a number die off after Charmy and Saffron rejoin the Chaotix. yeah it's kinda fucked up

This is the second major arc where Charmy has lost people close to him - first Mello, and now his entire family and kingdom. The same goes for Saffron - they only have each other left. I mean the Chaotix are also there but still, trauma is trauma

How could it get any worse?

PART 3 - CHARMY

Remember how Archie Charmy is based off of the Knuckles’ Chaotix manual? The one that said he was sophisticated and 16?

This is about to cause a few problems.

At this point, it’s around 2007. The Knuckles’ Chaotix manual is terribly outdated, and most versions of Charmy within canon are 6 year-old kids. Charmy is known to be the annoying comedic relief, which is the exact opposite from how he’s portrayed in Archie Sonic.

So when SEGA asked writer Ian Flynn to change Archie Sonic to be like his video game counterpart, the solution was uh. well. it could have been handled better

Like how he obliterated the Golden Hive Colony, Eggman’s next target to destroy is Knothole, the city where Sonic and the Freedom Fighters all live. It’s a surprise to all of the residents, and he manages to teleport most of the population into his Egg Grapes. Before Sonic can save them, Eggman singles out Charmy to be used as an example of how the Egg Grapes work.

Sonic and friends manage to get Charmy out, but not before the damage is already done. In the limited amount of time the Grape sapped his life force, Charmy’s memory was partially wiped and personality changed forever. After this, Charmy has very little memory of the Golden Hive Colony at all, only seeming to remember Saffron and his friends. His becomes much more child-like, similar to his game counterpart.

the fucking sigh i just sighed

For clarification, Charmy is still 16. The only thing that was altered was his mind, with the intention to make his personality more in-line with his goofy video game counterpart. The problem is that giving a character brain damage to turn them into a comedic relief character is fucked up and unintentionally ableist.

This is something that writer Ian Flynn identified pretty early and openly regrets (I’m not sure what the source of that statement is, I’m assuming an episode of Bumblekast but I’m don’t know which one. I’ll edit this if I find it). Because of this, he mostly kept Charmy out of any comedic situations for the rest of the series. Charmy has a very limited role in the series after this until the reboot, only appearing sporadically and in one Sonic Universe arc. When he does show up, his childish demeanor is usually met with the patience of the Chaotix and their sad expressions.

Although the intention was to make Archie Charmy more like his game counterpart, in practice I honestly think this action only made Archie Charmy even MORE distant from his game character. From the Egg Grape incident to the reboot, Archie Charmy’s trauma never leaves my mind and leaves me feeling strangely hollow.

CONCLUSION - WHAT THE FUCK

I find the Archie Sonic series unfathomably fascinating. While I love the series, I can’t deny that most of the events I went over are poorly handled by the writing team and leave the series with such a strange legacy. With Archie Sonic, it’s often incredibly easy to see the biases of the writers and how they affect the characters and stories, leading to some genuinely fucked up moments that could have easily been avoided in my opinion.

Archie Charmy was really one of the characters that got it the worst, but it's honestly so strange that all of this happened to him specifically. The fact that all of this shit happens to a silly little bee is so, so Archie Sonic to me. Charmy is such a simple character to understand - he's a funny kid who's kinda annoying and hard to handle. So when I look back and see the 3,000+ words I just wrote about Archie Charmy... fucking hell why did i do that

In conclusion. I am sorry and do not become a comics person

thanks for reading if you got this far. as always let me know if i need to tag any other content warnings or if there was anything i got wrong! alright good night tristate area

#PLEASE read all of the content warnings before opening the pandora's box of charmy lore #this one's a hell of a read i am so sorry #sonic loreposting #cw drug use #cw overdose #cw child death #cw genocide #cw ableism #cw memory loss #cw age regression #i actually really enjoyed talking about comic psas and propaganda its very interesting to me #long post

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thetriplets3 · 11 months

Note

Could you do one about matt, where the reader has migraines and matt does everything he can to help her, lots of physical touch, words of affirmation etc

Ilysm and your writing ur amazing<3

as someone who’s had migraines and headaches every single day for 4 years I loved writing this. i hope you’re doing well feel free to message me if you ever need to talk, i know how difficult this can be. sending my love to you

꩜ migraine ꩜

Waking up in excruciating pain has become my new normal. From the moment my eyes open I’m greeted by the familiar feeling of a migraine. The dull pressure around my head makes it feel like it’ll burst at any given moment.

Rubbing my eyes, I sharply inhale as a sharp jolt enters my temple and eye making it feel as if a nail has been driven into my head. Pulling the blanket over my head I groan. This isn’t how I expected today to go. You and I were supposed to spend the day in the city. Aimlessly reaching for my phone I turn Siri on and instruct her to send you a text.

“Hey Siri, send Matt a text” I grumble.

“What do you want to say?” Siri's voice irritates me more.

“Hi love, would we be able to do today’s plans another day? I woke up with a migraine again. I'm not doing well, it's taking a toll on me and I don’t wanna be a drag on our date. I’m really sorry I feel so bad. I know how busy you’ve been and how excited you were for this and I’ve ruined that. I'm sorry. If you aren’t busy maybe we can call later? I miss you and I love you” I tiredly mumbled to Siri to type out for me.

Putting my phone fast down on my nightstand, I bury my face into my pillow and pull the blankets up to my chin and try to sleep the pain away. I only slept for probably an hour until I breathed in a familiar scent. I slowly open my eyes to see you laying beside me. I waste no time burying my face into your chest and wrapping my arms around you.

“I'm so glad you're here” I mutter.

“I figured you'd either need or want some help since you aren't feeling good and I missed you” you whisper, making sure not to worsen my headache. “Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“I need my heated eye mask and my meds please, you know where they are right?” I ask.

“I'll go get them, I'll be quick” you softly say as you plant a kiss on my forehead.

Staying true to your words you’re back in a few minutes with my nice and hot eye mask and some meds to hopefully ease the pain.

Putting the warm mask over my eyes I get comfy, resting my head on your chest as one arm wraps around my waist and the other massaging my scalp, easing the building tension in my head.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that? It’s difficult being in pain let alone constantly and this badly but here you are still fighting. I know it’s draining and takes a mental toll on you but you’re doing so good. I wish I could take your pain for you. You amaze me with your strength” you praise me.

“Thank you for coming over. I’m sorry for ruining our plans not just today but every other time I end up having to cancel. I feel bad about it. I don’t want you to think that I don’t wanna spend time with you because that’s really all I want is to be with you” I whisper.

“Anytime sweet girl I’ll always be here for you no matter what. Don’t apologize, remember we don’t worry about things that are outside of our control. You can’t control when you get a migraine so don’t feel bad for canceling. Plus when you have a migraine it means that I get to come over and take care of you which I love. You could never ruin anything, simply being with you is enough for me. I love you sweet girl, now get some rest I’m here” you tell me, soothingly massaging my scalp.

Your gentle voice, the head massage, the eye mask, and the meds is the perfect concoction to make me doze off into a much needed sleep in the arms of my favorite person. Migraines aren’t so bad when I have you by my side.

taglist:

@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0 @iluvmatt @stxrniqlo @antisocialties @fake-coolbeans

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #readers pov

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drewsbuzzcut · 1 year

Text

Hook, Line, And Sinker

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic… read nothing like the rain before this part!

warnings: mentions of modeling and one minor mention of alcohol

“Mat?” You hesitantly ask through your phone.

“Y/n! You called,” mat exclaims.

“How’d you know it’s me?” It’s hard to fight the smile that dies to break out on your face.

“Trust me, your voice would be hard to forget,” mat says cooly.

“Hmm.. smooth,” you tease.

“Only for you,” mat says accompanied with a small, lighthearted laugh.

“Okay, hotshot,” you giggle.

“So you called..”

“Indeed! I want to hang out with you, but I’m seriously busy, so I was thinking I can take you with me to work,” you put out there.

It was a shot in the dark because no matter how good looking mat is or funny, he could be busy or simply not interested anymore.

Although, he’d be crazy to not be interested.

“So is this like a ‘bring your kid to work day’?” Mat asks.

“Hmm… sure if you were 3 and I gave birth to you. However, since you aren’t 3 and I just met you, it’s ‘bring your friend to work day’… if you’re not busy, of course,” you say with sass.

If only he could see your facial expressions. The way you bat your eyes and purse your lips. He’d probably become a puddle.

“You’re in luck! I’m free,” mat responds.

“Perfect. I will text you my address and just text me when you’re in the lobby and I will come get you,” you inform him.

“Lobby? That sounds very professional.”

You can’t help but giggle.

Mat is very charming. Usually you wouldn’t be the one to blush and giggle when it comes to conversations with men about a date, especially over the phone, but you’ve experienced mat’s smile and laugh in person.

Wait… was this even a date? You did say “hang out”

“I’ll see you in 20?”

“Yeah! See you in 20.”

————————————————————————

“Damn. This one hell of a lobby… and building,” mat states.

“Yeah… it’s very fancy. Look! Before we go in and you see what I’m working on, I need to tell you that my job isn’t exactly conventional or private,” you say quickly.

“I model. I have been for about 3 years and my career is starting to take off. I really hope that doesn’t change things for you, or makes you not want to hang out with me today- on set,” you continue.

Mat stays quiet, looking like he’s thinking.

Please don’t be scared. Please don’t be scared.

“You just got a lot more interesting. I’ve never met a model before. Show me your world,” mat says.

You bite your bottom lip to suppress your smile, but come out unsuccessful as your cheeks flush and you show may your pearly teeth. You also receive a big smile back.

You wrap your hand around his bicep and pull him towards the elevators, ready to show him just how much you love your job.

“Ok! So when we get to the 13th floor, I will have to sit in hair and makeup for a little while but you’ll be able to sit with me. Is that ok?”

“Sounds good! Will I also get my makeup and hair done?”

“Unless you are a model as well with at least 2 years of experience and want to join my photo shoot, then sure. Although, I doubt you’re a model,” you retort with a hand on your hip to convey your sass.

“See you like keeping my ego in check, you’re an absolute fireball,” mat says paired with a smirk.

“Like the alcohol?” You question, giving your best insulted attitude even if you’re far from insulted, just amused.

Mat freezes, hoping and praying that he didn’t just insult you.

When you notice his hesitancy to answer your question, you give a sly smile and say, “I guess I’m spicy… and sweet.”

You give a swift wink before you’re exiting the elevator with a mesmerized mat behind you.

————————————————————————

“So Calvin Klein?” Mat asks, referencing the company your photo shoot is for.

“Yeah! It’s one of my biggest bookings of the year and hopefully it just gets better!”

“What’s it like being a model?”

“Workout, beauty sleep, getting to places on time, being simple during the day and myself at night,” you answer.

“What do you mean?”

“If I have a shoot, more than likely I have to have washed hair, clean skin, minimal makeup and nails, and simple clothing. Sure I can still dress in my style but there’s a lot of limits. At night I can cake on makeup if I wanted to and I can just about wear whatever I want. Like I said, my job isn’t exactly conventional,” you explain.

“When I met you at the bar you weren’t wearing anything crazy,” mat points out.

“True. I did have a shoot that day, though and it took up most of my day, so I only packed a change of clothes and I had practically sweat off my makeup through the course of the day.”

“It must be weird or uncomfortable to be unlike yourself for your job.”

“I mean I’m used to it. It’s not something that’s ruining my life. I love my job; it’s made me so confident in myself and it’s also led me to some of the most amazing people,” you declare.

“Like me?” Mat questions with a cheesy grin plastered on his face.

Yes. Like you.

Deep breaths. You just met this guy.

“You wish, hotshot.”

“Anyways. You didn’t tell me what your job is. What does the great mat do?”

You can’t believe that you hadn’t realized that you didn’t know much about mat. In fact you’re just realizing that he’s a stranger who you invited to your place of work. Oops.

“I play hockey,” you hear mat say.

You knew he looked familiar and now it all just clicked.

The islanders.

“Hockey?”

“Yeah professional hockey for the New York islanders,” mat tells you.

“No wonder you have muscles of steel,” you reply, trying to keep it cool.

“Muscles of steel you say?”

God, he is cocky. He makes it sexy.

“Your bicep is like solid rock. Hmm… maybe you stuff rocks up the sleeves of your shirts. That’d make a lot of sense actually.”

“Ouch.”

Mat pulls up the sleeve of his shirt and flexes his bicep, “no rocks.”

“Maybe you should be the one modeling,” you giggle.

“I like your giggle.”

“I like your rocks,” mat rolls his eyes but he can’t deny the blush adorning his cheeks.

————————————————————————

You’ve been getting your photos taken for about an hour and mat was just observing.

He was in awe with you. The way you switched into different poses as if it were so simple. And maybe it was simple for you, but if it were him, he’d probably not be able to make it look so flawless.

It wasn’t just how graceful you looked, but your personality. You treated everyone you worked with respectfully and you were just so kind.

“Ok y/n, awesome work! We have a 30 minute break,” someone called out.

Mat snaps out of his inner thoughts when he sees you walk up to him.

He holds his hand out to give you a high five, which you gladly return.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot to tell you that you’re welcome to anything at the food station. I hope you’re not starving,” you whisper to him.

“No. I’m all good! I had a big breakfast,” he lied. Only because he didn’t want you to feel bad.

“Well if you want a snack or something, you’re more than welcome to grab whatever you’d like,” you tell him.

He nods in appreciation.

You decide to eat a salad that you had brought with you from home.

“So… you’re totally a natural at this modeling gig.”

“Well I have been doing it for 3 years. It’s not that difficult either,” you say.

“You don’t get nervous around all the cameras, or self conscious when you wear different outfits?”

“It’s all about the atmosphere, mat. I have been so fortunate to work with people who only lift me up. Plus I’ve always been sure of myself and not in a conceited way,” you state.

“I wish I could be you when I grow up,” mat jokes.

You laugh and shake your head.

“After my break is done there should only be a couple of photos that need to be taken before I’m done for the day. I was wondering if you’d like to go and get pizza with me. I know this little place like a few blocks down,” you offer.

“I’d really like that,” mat smiles at you and you find yourself ready to get the last of your photo shoot done.

a/n: hope you enjoyed this piece! there will be more to come. also, sorry if it’s kinda slow and boring rn i hope to make it more interesting after a few more pieces!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders

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rose-pearls · 7 months

Text

The Summer I Turned Pretty

Here is part two, hopefully you will like it!!

I thought it would maybe be easier to say which character is which so here you have a list:

Belly: reader, Conrad: Jake, Jeremiah: Bradley, Steven: Javy, Cameron: Bob, Susannah: Iceman, Laurel: Slider

Series Taglist: @djs8891, @devrill (open)

Previous part

The night had been short, with your father telling you just how disappointed he was for leaving behind his back and Ice telling him to calm down but eventually you did made it into your bed.

You woke up in a hurry, rushing to get downstairs and find your things, by some miracle everyone was out, and you managed to leave the house quickly. Bob had talked about going on a sailboat with him to go see the whales, the blond boy had proposed it last night and you hadn’t stopped dreaming about it.

But just as you arrived the boat left the shore, and the only thing you could do was watch it leave towards the ocean, silently cursing yourself for forgetting an alarm.

Today was going to be a horrible day, you could feel it.

The house is more active as you arrive, Jake sitting at the table with a bruise around his eyes. His green eyes look tired, and you want to ask him how he is, but Ice comes in before you are able to.

“Guess what is happening later today?”, he seems cheerful, which brings a smile to your lips, he had always been a sweetheart, filled with love.

“What?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering whatever could have gotten your uncle’s attention.

“The debutant ball.”, you hear Maverick and your father groan behind him but Ice simply rolls his eyes and ignores them.

“Would you like to participate?”, the question is unexpected, of course you had heard of it, but you never thought of participating in it yourself.

“Common Ice she is not going to participate in something like that.”, your father says, and you can’t help but look at him slightly offended.

“Why not?”, Ice seems to be thinking the same thing as he looks at his best friend with raised eyebrows, expecting an answer.

“It doesn’t seem like the type of thing you would like to do.”, he says simply, and you take a moment to think it through. The deb ball seemed like something nice, large white dresses spinning around on the dance floor, but it would take a lot of your time.

“Why don’t you go to the afternoon tea this afternoon to meet the others and think it through after that? We could go shopping and buy you an outfit or two.”, Ice says, excitement appearing at his words, and you can’t help but smile.

“I’ll do it.”, you say, feeling confident for the first time in a long time. You try to ignore the green eyes looking at you in surprise and only focusing on an eager Ice taking you in his arms.

“You will love this! Sarah loved it when she did it!”, there is a sad smile on his lips as he talks about his sister, but he quickly shakes his head before telling you to get ready.

“I don’t understand why you want her to do that Ice.”, you hear your father say as you leave the room.

“I just want to see our girl in a white dress, at least once.”, there is something behind the words, some underlying meaning that you can’t seem to grasp, a sadness that coats the words.

The only person you can see is Maverick and he has a hard look on his face, his eyes seem saddened before a small cheerful smile appears and he stirs the conversation to another one.

The shop is big, tons of colours everywhere and you can’t help but snort at some of the options your godfather shows you. Your father is more on the side, looking unsure, until Ice manages to make him laugh with a large hat on his head.

They quickly shoo you into the changing room and time flies by as you try out the different outfits, some of them making the three of you laugh until you can’t breathe and others getting the approval of even your father.

You haven’t seen him so relaxed as right now, a constant smile on his face as Ice teases him about something during their college years. He always seemed lighter when he came here and was around his best friend.

“Alright, this is the last one.”, you tell them as you put on a white dress.

The both of them are quiet as you come out, their mouth slightly open at the sight of you and you suddenly feel nervous.

“You look so beautiful.”, Ice whispers before getting up and bringing you into his arms.

“Thank you.”, you whisper, holding him tightly.

“It looks stunning on you.”, your father says, suddenly looking emotional and you take him into your arms, holding him tight.

“Thanks dad.”, you don’t know what you would do without the two of them, and Maverick, and you hoped that you would never have to know.

“Do not worry, everyone is nice in there, just be yourself.”, Ice says as he drops you off and you try to look confident as you leave the car.

“If there is any issue you call me and I’ll come and get you.”, your father says, looking as nervous as you but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry I will be back later.”, you promise them before entering the country club.

“Didn’t know you would be here!”, you suddenly hear behind you, and you turn around to find Bradley.

“Brad, hey! It was last minute, but I am supposed to meet the other girls for the deb ball.”, you tell him, starting to feel nervous at the thought of what was awaiting you there.

“You look stunning.”, he seems to be slightly in shock, as he looks at you and you can’t stop the blush from appearing on your cheeks.

“Thank you.”, the words seem to make Bradley function again and he throws you a dazzling smile.

“Why don’t I escort you to the room?”, you giggle as you take his arm and follow him through the many hallways of the club.

“And here we are. This is where I leave you.”, there is a silence around the room as Bradley wishes you good luck and you try not to stumble as you walk into the room.

Everyone seems to know each other as you enter the room, luckily there is a space left at a table and you sit down, looking at all the girls around the table.

“I’m Shayla, welcome.”, the girl has a sweet smile, and seems kind enough as you introduce yourself.

“I’m Nicole.”, you recognize the girl from somewhere, but you aren’t able to pinpoint just where.

The girls talk for a moment before you let out a sigh as you look around, it was a bit more boring than you thought it would be.

“Finding it a bit boring?”, Halo asks you and you can’t help the blush of embarrassment that appears.

“Sorry, this isn’t usually what I do.”, you tell them, and they all smile at you reassuringly.

“Not to worry, these things do get quite boring, but we have a remedy for that.”, Shayla tells you as Halo brings a little bottle out of her handbag.

“How do you think that we survive these kinds of things?”, she asks you teasingly and you can’t help but laugh in answer as they pass the bottle.

“So, how are things with Jake?”, the name throws you off as you hear Nicole start to talk about what happened last night at the bonfire. So, this was the girl that Jake had been with, the only thing you could do to forget the hurt that was swelling up was drink a bit of the tea, forgetting for a moment that there was some strong alcohol in it.

The etiquette lesson is boring, even more boring than math class and for a moment you think that nothing exciting will happen until you see a flash of blond hair. Bob. You quickly excuse yourself, rushing to get to Bob in time to talk to him.

“Bob!”, the blond boy turns around to find you there, a wide smile appears on his lips.

“Hey, didn’t expect you to be here.”, he says, and you can’t help but smile awkwardly.

“I am really sorry about this morning, I woke up late and by the time I was there the boat had already left.”, you try to explain and Bob smiles kindly.

“Don’t worry I completely understand. It was a bit short notice, but if you want, we could always go see a movie?”, the proposition brings a wide smile on your lips as you nod quickly.

“I would love that!”, you tell him, and Bob seems to relax at your words.

“I’ll text you the details then.”, he tells you and you quickly nod in agreement.

“By the way, you look absolutely beautiful.”, the words make you feel warm on the inside as you quickly thank him, feeling giddy at the thought of your first date.

The drive through is quite full as you arrive there with Bob, but you can only think of how nervous you are currently feeling. He had been an absolute gentleman, getting you something to drink and to eat before asking about how your day went.

The movie started and as it went on you felt Bob’s hand next to yours, you slowly tried to move your hand towards his and after a moment feel his hand taking yours in his. The moment feels surreal, like it’s part of a movie but as you look at the blond boy and feel his soft skin against yours you know that it is real.

The moment was perfect.

Until the car next to yours ruins it. Bradley, Jake and Javy suddenly appear in your vision, the boys looking at you with smirks on their faces.

“Isn’t that your brother?”, Bob asks after a moment, and you can’t help but huff in response.

“Just ignore them, they’re idiots.”

You do try to ignore them, not listen to their overly loud commentary and little remarks but you can see that Bob doesn’t seem as relaxed either before they came.

“I’ll be back.”, you quickly tell the blond boy before getting out of the car ignoring the three other boys starting to act like they are scared.

“Leave.”, you tell them quickly as they open the window.

“Can’t do, we are watching a movie, and we want to know how it ends.”, Javy says with that stupid smirk that he always has when he is with his friends, like he thinks that he somewhat better than you.

“You aren’t watching it, you are just ruining my date.”, Jake seems to look sour as the word ‘date’ leaves your mouth, but you ignore it.

“Common we are just teasing you.”, Bradley says, trying to be the peacekeeper but you just feel pissed off.

“I don’t care, go away.”, Javy tries to say something, but you quickly cut him off.

“Either you leave, or I tell everyone about your secret Harry Potter fanfiction collection.”, this seems to put your brother back into the right mindset as he tells the others to leave.

Jake is looking at you with his stormy green eyes and for a moment you wonder what is going inside of his head before the car leaves.

“I’m so sorry about that.”, you tell Bob as you enter the car, and he simply smiles softly.

“Don’t worry it’s not your fault.”, he tells you and somehow the both of you got closer to each other than before, you can see his baby blue eyes from up-close and you feel like you are somehow being pulled towards him.

There are only a few inches between the both of you when Bob asks you softly if it’s okay to kiss you and you simply close the distance between the both of you. His lips are soft, and his hand has taken yours into his again and you can’t stop yourself from feeling warm on the inside.

This was perfect.

The house is quiet when you enter it, feeling giddy from the perfect romantic kiss, and the promise of another date. Your stomach rumbles and you start to wonder if there could be something left to eat in the kitchen but as you enter it there is only Jake.

“So, how was the date?”, he asks, a sarcastic undertone that makes your skin crawl.

“It went well, not thanks to you guys though.”, you can’t help but say, still feeling frustrated at the three boys.

“Oh, common we were just joking, you can’t take a joke.”, he spats, and you can’t help but stumble back a bit.

“Oh, come off of it Jake, why were you there? I think that they are far more fun things to do on a Friday night then go and ruin someone’s date.”, the boy shakes his head before starting to leave.

“Were you jealous, is that it? That someone finally pays attention to me?”, Jake seems to get even more tense at your words before his green eyes turn stormy once again.

“Why don’t you go look at yourself in the mirror some more, it seems like it’s the only thing you can do these days.”, the words feel like a slap in the face as he leaves the kitchen, leaving you behind feeling like you are losing everything without knowing why.

The only thing you knew is that this wasn’t the boy you had fell for all these years ago.

Top Gun Taglist: @bisexual-watermelons (open)

Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open for every fandom)

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the-trans-advice-blog · 2 months

Text

Welcome to The Trans Advice Blog!

I created this blog years ago to connect with the trans community and hopefully offer some advice or words of positive to those you can. I just wanted to make a post talking about what you might find here.

1. Asks! Please feel free to send them. Whether you’re just telling me about your day, asking for specific advice, telling me about your name, submitting photos of yourself or your pets, or pretty much anything else you can think of! As long as it’s appropriate feel free to say whatever you like.

2. Queer art! I really really want to use this blog to promote queer artists that post their work here so feel free to tag me in your posts if you’d like me to reblog them.

3. Signal boosts! If you have any sort of fundraiser, informational post, or anything you think needs to be spread around please submit a post or send and ask. I’d love to help anyone I’m able to.

4. Reblogs! I try to queue as much as I can so I’m able to have a consistent flow of posts. If there’s anything I reblog that poses a problem or comes from and problematic source please let me know.

5. Nsfw! I’m 20 years old and may from time to time post things that are a little more vulgar. It won’t be porn, it won’t be overly explicit, but sometimes I want to post about kissing fags or something. I’d say I’ll keep it relatively pg-13 but if you’re not comfortable with stuff like that this might not be the place for you. Also I reclaim a lot of slurs for myself, I never use them on people I don’t know without consent but if you’re not okay seeing this you shouldn’t follow me.

6. Overall I just want this to be a safe space for those who need it. I love posting educational things and positivity! I’m always happy to take requests for types of posts you’d like to see.

Link to my personal intro

Here are links to the art I used for my pfp and header!

#marshal talks #the trans experience #transgender #trans #transmasc #ftm #lgbt #trans guy #ftm trans #nb #mtf #transfem #queer

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ctitan98official · 3 months

Text

Milf Cassandra Dimitrescu modern au

So, this is like a human au and I made Y/N a firefighter because I thought that was cool. Let’s get into it!

You had been a firefighter EMT for a few years now. You loved the job and being able to help people. You were happy, but lately you’d begun to long for someone to share your life with. Your fellow firefighters at the station had started ragging on you for being so lovesick, but the last thing you wanted was to end up alone. It scared you.

One day, things finally changed (Although you wouldn’t know it until later).

A call about a medical emergency had come in to the station and an aid car was requested. You and one of your lieutenants, Chris Redfield, headed out to the scene.

You two pulled up and quickly got out. The address was at an apartment building.

The landlord, rather comically, waved his hands to get your attention. “Hey! Hey, up here!” He yelled from the railing of the second story hallway.

“Everything alright, sir?” You say as you make your way up the stairway.

“U-uh, my tenant? Yeah, she’s, like, gonna have a baby right now!” He says frantically.

You look at Chris and he nods for you to go ahead in. “I’m gonna get a stretcher and I’ll call ahead to the hospital. You go check things out, okay?” He says and pats your shoulder.

You nod. You’ve had the honor of delivering a few babies, but hopefully it won’t come to that and you have time to get this person to the hospital.

You enter the apartment and find yourself staring at the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen. She was clearly in excruciating pain, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. She had dark brown hair and the most gorgeous golden eyes… Damn, snap out of it, Y/N! This poor woman is in fucking labor on her couch! This is no time for simping.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer, Smokey.” The brunette snarks at you in between contractions.

Your cheeks burn and you shake your head before clearing your throat. “Hi, can you tell me how far apart your contractions are?” You ask and put on some gloves before starting to take vital signs.

“AHH! Really fucking fast! Who cares, moron?!” She shrieks as a contraction rips through her.

“Okay, that’s good, actually. The faster the contractions come, the faster your body’s ready to deliver. Then it’ll be all over.” You say with a smile.

The woman takes a deep breath as the contraction ends and nods a bit sheepishly, feeling embarrassed about snapping at you. Your voice is very comforting.

“Everything will be alright. I promise.” You soothe and gently squeeze her shoulder. It helps that you have had a lot of experience in these types of situations. Other than trying not to admire her too much, you were just relying on training and instinct. You begin timing how long it takes for another contraction to hit. “Have you felt your water break?” You ask and gently wipe the sweat from her forehead with a cloth.

The brunette can’t help but laugh at your question. “Yeah, you’re kinda standing in a puddle right now.”

You laugh too. “Aw, darn. These boots are prada.” You joke.

Your attempt at humor actually catches her off guard and she begins chuckling. “Alright, that was pretty good, firefighter.” She says in between her pained grunts.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” You ask her, and gesture below her waist.

“Well, you should know that I don’t do this for just anybody. I’d at least like to know your name first. I’m Cassandra.” She smirks.

“Y/N.“ You say, smiling at her.

You look at her once more for confirmation, to which she nods, before you slide her pants down.

"Hey, what’s the situation, L/N? The hospital’s on stand-by.” You hear Chris say as he brings in the stretcher.

Cassandra is much further along than you had originally thought. You can see that she’s beginning to crown already.

You inwardly sigh. “Um, we’re not gonna make it to the hospital, Lieutenant.” You report in an even voice. “But, we’ve got this.” You try to say reassuringly as you look at Cassandra.

“WHAT?! I’m pretty sure you two idiots aren’t doctors! Get me to a hospital!” Cassandra yells.

She looks like she wants to kill you, but under all the bravado, you can see the frightened look on her face. She must be terrified.

“Hey, I’ve got you, alright?” You tell her and gently grab her hand. “I’m right here with you, Cassandra. Okay?” You promise her.

Cassandra’s anger quickly melts away at your touch and she begins crying at your words. She’d be lying if she said that she didn’t find your calm presence relaxing.

You and Chris gently reposition Cassandra on a blanket and help her spread out on the couch.

“I hope you have an idea of what you’re gonna name this little troublemaker.” You grin, trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

Cassandra scoffs playfully. “Thankfully, I do. My due date wasn’t for two more weeks, so I’m glad I already picked a name.” She says.

“I was early too.” You wink.

Cassandra feels a fondness start to grow for you. She loves how efficient but kind you are. She definitely doesn’t mind looking at you either… But, priorities! She had a more pressing matter to attend to at the moment.

——————————————————————————

You get in position to begin the delivery and another contraction hits Cassandra just then.

“Alright, Cassandra. Take a deep breath for me and push, okay?” You instruct.

“AAAAH!” Cassandra groans as she bears down.

“That’s good! You’re doing so great, Cassandra.” You say as she breathes heavily.

Chris dabs her face with a cloth and offers his hand for her to grip onto as she pushes.

“You’re gonna regret this.” Cassandra mutters to him as she grabs his hand.

“Alright, looks like the baby’s head is almost out. Push, Cassandra.” You say.

Cassandra is drenched in sweat and completely exhausted. She lies her head back tiredly and takes a few moments to rest before nodding at you. She can do this.

Another contraction comes and Cassandra pushes with all of her power.

The baby’s head slips out and then one of the shoulders. This is the homestretch.

“Good! One more push and you’re done, Cassandra. Alright?” You cheer her on.

Cassandra sobs in pain before she pushes once more.

At last, a beautiful little girl slips into your hands.

The baby’s crying fills up the apartment and it’s like music to your ears. That’s a hefty set of lungs. She must get it from her mother.

Cassandra weeps as she hears her baby for the first time.

You and Chris quickly wipe the little one off with a soft towel before wrapping her in a blanket and handing her to Cassandra.

“Oh, she’s perfect.” Cassandra says through her tears and gently kisses her baby’s head.

You crouch down next to her and smile as you look at them both. “Just like her mama.” You tell her.

Cassandra’s face erupts in a blush at your adorable comment. You’re a sweet-talker.

“Alright, let’s get mom and baby to the hospital.” Chris says with a gentle smile at Cassandra.

“Why bother? I already did the hard part.” She rolls her eyes. But, she looks so excited to be holding her baby. She can’t stay grumpy for long.

You chuckle. “Gotta make sure you’re both okay. Are you ready to go? Do you need anything?” You ask as you and Chris carefully move her and the baby to the stretcher.

“A stiff drink?” She jokes.

“I’ll tell you what, when we get to the hospital I’ll buy you a root beer, how about that?” You grin.

Cassandra giggles at you. “It’ll have to do.” She says as she finally takes in your features. Wow. She was in too much pain earlier to really notice just how good-looking you are. She frustratedly tries to hide her blush.

You and Chris get her and the baby loaded up in the aid car and he gets in the driver’s seat before hitting the siren and driving off.

You sit in the back with Cassandra and you both coo over how cute the baby is.

“Well, you said you had a name picked out earlier. What are you going to call this little one?” You say as the baby grips the finger you offer her.

Cassandra can’t help the warmth that blooms in her chest as she watches how gentle you are with her new daughter. “I’ve decided on Amber.” (A/N: You know, the yellow gem? XD)

You smile and look closer at the little baby. “Hi there, Amber. It’s nice to meet you.” You say. “Obviously, her middle name is Y/N, right?” You tease.

Cassandra laughs. “In your dreams, firefighter.” She says, but then she suddenly realizes her mother must be worried sick. She was supposed to have dinner with her tonight. “Y/N, can I use your phone? I need to call my mother.” She asks urgently.

“Of course.” You say and hand her your phone.

You can hear the excited squeal on the other end as Cassandra tells her she just had the baby. It makes you chuckle. “We’re on our way to the hospital now, Mother. I can’t wait for you to meet her.” She says happily.

The phone call ends and she hands your phone back to you.

“Sounds like someone’s excited to be a grandmother.” You smirk.

“You have no idea, Y/N.” Cassandra smiles at you.

You momentarily get lost in her eyes, but then you look away awkwardly. “So, let’s hear the full name.” You say, trying not to look like an idiot.

Cassandra thinks you look adorable when you’re flustered. She leans down and kisses the baby’s head again. “Amber Dimitrescu. My perfect little baby.”

You grin. “I love it. You did so amazing tonight. I’m proud of you.”

Cassandra can’t help herself and leans in to gently peck your cheek. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything.” She tells you.

Your eyes grow wide and you flush.

Little do you know, but this will not be the last time you see Cassandra. Only time will tell how your relationship develops…

Note: This was fun to write! Want another part? Let me know!

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu x y/n #re8 incorrect quotes #re8 shitpost #y/n is stupid #resident evil imagines #resident evil 8 #resident evil village

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99corentine · 4 months

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How To Write Good by Corentine

THE DRAFTING PROCESS, PART 1/2

Hello, people were interested in some writing tips by me so I, uh, sort of kind of cranked out a writing guide in a few hours. I’m not sure if this will be a very comprehensive or helpful guide but let’s give it a try!

⭐ Starting disclaimers: Please remember as with all things that my method is not necessarily the best method, everyone is different and over time you’ll find your own process.

I write romance, so my advice is skewed towards writing that and I’m not sure how helpful it will be for gen fic. I publish fanfic chapter by chapter to AO3 so it’s also skewed to someone doing the same, not someone writing a full novel they want to get published.

I’m going to be using GOL HAH DOV (GHD) for writing examples because, well, it’s a (almost-)finished longfic so it’s as good a reference as any, but obviously GHD is not everyone’s cup of tea. I’ll also occasionally reference Tooth for a Tooth (T4T) which apologies is very far from finished, but the Baldur’s Gate 3 fandom is vastly different to the Skyrim one, so it’s useful to cross-compare them.

Also worth bearing in mind: I have been writing fanfiction since I was about 13, and I’m now 33. That’s 20 years of experience. Do you know what I wrote when I was 13? Hot garbage. Writing is a learned skill that, much like playing a musical instrument or learning literally any other craft, you must put time and effort into to improve.

However although ‘practice makes perfect’ is fundamentally true, that’s also kind of lame advice. So here is what I personally do, which may be helpful in figuring out what you want to do.

STEP ONE: YOU NEED AN IDEA FIRST DUMMY

Think of a fic idea. Probably you have lots of vague ideas. As I’m trying to turn something from a daydream into an actual writing project, I tend to ask myself these questions:

⭐Who is it about?⭐

Pick your pairing, romantic or otherwise. Think about what you like about the character and what traits you want to emphasise in your writing. If you’re writing about fan character x fan character, what makes them go well together? What causes tension between them?

If you’re writing fan character x original character, do remember that your readers are here for the fan character, not for your OC. There is no getting around this, your OC is not what brings people to the fic. GHD’s Chrysanthe was largely intended as a blank slate, quite literally, I made him an amnesiac because the point of the story was Miraak not Chrysanthe.

Over time I was able to shape him into something more distinctive (softly-spoken, stoic, paladin-like, secret tricksy side only Miraak brings out, gets more dragon-like as the story progresses) but that was a gradual thing. Your readers will hopefully come to love your OC as you do, but it takes time for them to get invested. I’m very grateful that people did come to root for Chrysanthe – but make no mistake, if the story had no Miraak in it, people wouldn’t be reading it. Your OC is always a vehicle for the fan character.

⭐What are the overarching themes of the story?⭐

A cohesive story has a theme that repeats throughout, and picking one early on will let you write with that theme in mind. As an example, the themes of GHD are:

Soulmates / we were destined to meet each other

There’s no-one else like me / you and I are the only real ones here

One’s a hero one’s a villain

Zero to hero / hero becomes progressively more badass

Redemption arc but the villain is never fully redeemed – for GHD this turned into the repetition of Miraak’s theme he’ll never be pure but for you he’ll try and later Chrysanthe’s I love you exactly as you are

Your own themes might be something like best friends who don’t realise they’ve been in love this whole time or can’t live with you can’t live without you. Tropes count towards this too, so something like soulmates, Modern Coffee Shop AU, hanahaki, all of that stuff is a story theme.

⭐What does this fic do that other fics like it don’t?⭐

GOL HAH DOV was sort of easy mode in this regard because there aren’t many fics featuring Miraak at all, so writing anything was already doing something different. Of those existing fics, I wanted to see more where Miraak was evil and scary, and you should be the change you want to see in the world (of fanfic), so I decided to write it myself. I get a lot of comments on Miraak’s personality, so I assume this is mostly what makes GHD stand out!

I’ll use T4T as a contrasting example, because Skyrim is old and Miraak is niche, but Baldur’s Gate 3 is new/popular and Astarion is a fan favourite. That means there’s a veritable sea of fic about him, so what can you write that will stand out from the many, many other fics out there? It doesn’t have to be the only one of its kind or anything, but it does need to have some special about it.

You’ll want to either go for a strong theme or trope (i.e. soulmates, magical spell curse, we’re both monsters), or change the setting (canon divergence, ‘what if X happened instead?’, or even outright alternate universe and a brand new plot). Personally, I choose to follow the source material but go off-script. I gotta say, nothing makes me sadder than seeing plot and dialogue lifted straight from a game with zero changes made to it. That’s a personal preference obviously, but I think if you write a fic it should strive to do something different to the rest.

⭐Do I have enough enthusiasm to finish it?⭐

This is more applicable to longfic, but you really need to be in love with a story to see it through to the end. Be realistic with yourself, how much free time and energy you have – if you start it, do you think you can finish it?

I have a whole planning process (detailed later) and sometimes I start planning out an idea just to realise I don’t really have the enthusiasm to actually write the whole thing. This is fine! Even just planning is still a writing exercise, and it might spark some different ideas.

Once you have your idea, and you’re confident you’re going to actually write it… then for the love of all that is holy, do not share it in detail with anyone. You can pitch an idea to see if people will be interested but if you go into specifics about story events or certain scenes? You basically get the endorphins from having ‘created’ it, only you haven’t actually created it, and now you’ve had the chemical pay-off you probably never will. Keep your ideas to yourself until you’ve actually written them.

STEP TWO: WRITE THAT DOWN

In terms of writing software, I use Scrivener, which is a paid-for software but is not subscription based (I wouldn’t pay continually for software unless I was reliably writing every day, and sometimes I go ages without being in the mood to write). Scriv’s word processor isn’t the most intuitive thing, but I like its organisation features. This is what a work in progress looks like for me:

That’s essentially a folder (the story) containing a bunch of word documents (the chapters). You could break it down even further and have a chapter folder with each document being individual scenes, then stitch it together later - if writing is a daunting process for you, it’s useful to break it down into small, manageable chunks. You can do this in other software obviously, I just find Scrivener the most visually pleasing.

Set up your writing document, and let’s get to planning what we’re actually going to write!

...Apparently tumblr has a word limit I've exceeded, so I'll write the next bit separately. Here's PART TWO.

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eddsworld-the-masquerade · 1 year

Photo

Blog update: “About” and “Characters” pages rewrite

First of, happy new year everyone! Hoping this one doesn’t end me for good haha.

As stated above, “About” and “Characters” pages have been updated with new info, character description, sheets and art (which you see in this post). You’ll need to open the blog in browser in order to view these pages. Keep in mind that it’s all subject to change given that the story is still in early development (I wrote down 1/4 of the script plan so far) and I might get rid of things I feel I can’t utilize properly.

I’m also opening the ask box again, so if the text inspires you or makes you wonder certain things, you can drop your message there :) I can’t promise I’ll be quick to answer and I probably won’t be able to answer all of your asks but I’ll do my best to read through them all.

Under the cut is rest of the concept art (and some of my rambling) so I don’t make the post too bloated to scroll through:

Edd’s style is still considered “weird” but in a more obnoxious and bold way. It’s screaming “Look at me! Look at me! I’ll have you look my way like it or not!”. I like the silly thought of him coming to embrace larger suits thanks to his sire. It is comfortable! And one of the kind - if you were wondering for what purpose Edd needs sewing skills, that’s the answer :)

Tord lost his iconic sweater and scarf. I gotta say I wasn’t sure if bare chest idea would work out but I’m glad I tried it cuz heck yeah it did. Love it or hate it Tord doesn’t give a damn 😎 His fake horns are now slicked back which makes him look like a disgruntled kitten lol And I added a belt buckle, it’s a skull being crushed by a hammer (roughly designed after thor’s hammer as a nod to his origin); it carries a certain personal significance too

Matt style is still inspired by vintage suits and illustrations but customized for personal taste. Like the vest being asymmetrical, or the suit being more “flappy” and with a big cutout on the back. It’s sort of a way of saying “I might be playing by the rules but I do it my own way”. He is ultimate bishounen now and his power is mesmerizing enemies with that iconic anime stare and sound effects (this is a joke, but a joke I love)

Tom had it worst XD but also I had the most fun with him. The pale yellow parts on his body are supposed to be bone and um...shell...thing...you know when something spends a lot of time in the water in the open sea and you get it out and it’s covered in those THINGS yeah I can’t find the word but hopefully you got my point hahaha. It was hard to keep him as monstrous as possible but also recognizable but I think giving him the monster tom color palette did the job. Also yes he got scales. And the texture I did on his skin is supposed to be semi-transparent...like jello maybe? he’s hideous and a pain to color and i love him lol

I also did this little relationship chart to explain changes in the well relationships in-group!

#eddsworld au #eddsworld vtm au #concept art #mod art

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salembutnotthecat · 3 months

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Novemetober (Rescheduled) | Day Eight

@monthofsick

i have just accepted being a day behind the prompts at this point. but hopefully this weekend i’ll be able to catch up!

feel free to send any questions, comments, requests, or concerns.

we are back in the normal timeline of novak’s career, but i’m willing to keep bouncing around as i get an idea that seems fit.

*do note that day nine: persistent illness will be a follow-up, continuing of this*

tw emeto (small), migraine, hypersensitivity, character seizure

Novak Daskalov was very smart, really. At least, on paper he was.

He graduated high school in the top ten of his class, even after only attending that specific high school of at least 900 kids, if not more, for only three years. He graduated university, not only with a double major but in three years instead of four. Academically, Novak was certainly quite smart. On paper.

But, as it's early October and Novak is getting ready in his hotel room in Portland, only to find somehow he managed to forget both his migraine medication and his seizure medication, all while knowing Marina is in France for a gallery and Yuliya is babysitting Elya, Novak was well aware that he was remarkably stupid.

Sure, Novak could theorietically go home and get them. He only lived half an hour away.

But that half an hour easily turned into an hour on gameday. And it was Saturday. Everyone was going everywhere. The game started at one. They had to be at the stadium no later than noon. And even though it was a home game, they couldn't slack on that. It would be rude.

Novak stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection with a furrowed brow. The telltale signs of an impending migraine were already creeping in—the pulsating ache behind his eyes, the tingling sensation at the base of his skull. His neck was stiff. He knew what was coming, and it wasn't going to be pretty.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to push aside the rising panic. He couldn't afford to let this get to him, not today. The team was counting on him, his players were counting on him. He already had to abandon them on the field as their linebacker. He couldn't continue playing. So he definitely felt like he simply couldn't bail now.

With shaky hands, he rummaged through his toiletry bag, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, he had some voer the counter medicine tucked away somewhere. But of course, luck wasn't on his side today. The bottle of migraine medication, prescription or otherwise, was nowhere to be found.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, frustration bubbling up inside him.

And the lack of migraine medicine wouldn'tm be so bad on its own. But not having the seizure medication either was... terrifying.

Bracing himself against the sink, Novak closed his eyes and tried to block out the throbbing pain in his head. He could do this. He had to do this. He just needed to make it through the game, and then he could deal with everything else later.

Novak took a moment to gather himself, mentally bracing against the impending storm in his head. He couldn't afford to let his team down, not now, not ever.

With a deep inhale, he pushed aside the nagging ache in his skull and focused on the task at hand.

Quickly dressing in his coaching attire, Novak grabbed his clipboard and headed out of the hotel room. As he made his way down the hallway towards the elevator, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease gnawing at him. He was used to battling opponents on the field, but this internal struggle felt different, more personal.

He just hoped it would work out. Just until the game was over.

Making his way to the team bus, Novak took a seat near the front, trying to block out the noise and chaos around him. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, trying to find a moment of calm amidst the storm raging inside his head.

As the bus pulled out of the hotel parking lot and headed towards the stadium, Novak couldn't help but wonder how he was going to make it through the game. But deep down, he knew there was no other option.

He was a Maverick, through and through, and Mavericks didn't back down from a challenge, no matter how daunting.

With a steely resolve, Novak squared his shoulders and prepared himself for the battle ahead. Today, he wasn't just coaching a football game—he was fighting for his team, his pride, and his very identity. And nothing was going to stop him.

As the team bus arrived at the stadium, Novak stepped off and was immediately enveloped by a cacophony of sounds—the roar of the crowd, the blaring music over the speakers, the chatter of players and coaches. Each noise seemed to pierce through his skull like a dagger, intensifying the throbbing ache behind his eyes.

Novak winced, his head pounding in protest against the onslaught of sensory overload. He struggled to focus, to block out the overwhelming barrage of sound assaulting his senses. But he knew he couldn't afford to let it get to him, not now.

Novak pushed through the discomfort, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He joined the team on the field for warm-ups, trying to drown out the noise and concentrate on the drills. But every movement sent a sharp jolt of pain shooting through his head, threatening to derail his concentration.

He gritted his teeth and soldiered on, refusing to let his team see any sign of weakness. He couldn't afford to let them down, not now, not when they needed him the most. And definitely not when he wasn't able to be on field with them.

As the warm-up session drew to a close, Novak felt a wave of relief wash over him. He knew the real challenge lay ahead—the game itself—but he also knew he couldn't let his migraine get the best of him.

With a deep breath, Novak straightened his shoulders and plastered on a confident smile. He was still the Mavericks' defensive coach, and he was determined to lead his team to victory, no matter what obstacles stood in his way.

As the first quarter kicked off, Novak found himself engulfed in a whirlwind of chaos. The sounds of the game—the clashing of helmets, the roar of the crowd, the referee's whistle—seemed amplified to an unbearable level, assaulting his senses with relentless force.

Novak gritted his teeth against the onslaught, his head pounding with every passing moment. He struggled to focus on the action unfolding on the field, his vision swimming as waves of pain washed over him.

But despite the overwhelming sensory overload, Novak refused to let it defeat him. He dug deep, drawing upon every ounce of inner strength he possessed, determined to push through the agony and fulfill his duties as defensive coach.

With each play, Novak forced himself to analyze the game strategy, shouting out instructions to his players despite the searing pain in his head. He knew he couldn't afford to falter, not when the outcome of the game hung in the balance.

As the clock ticked down towards the end of the first quarter, Novak felt a sense of relief wash over him. He had made it through the opening minutes of the game, despite the odds stacked against him. But he also knew that the battle was far from over.

As the second quarter began, Novak's symptoms intensified with alarming speed. The relentless pounding in his head morphed into a throbbing ache that seemed to pulse in time with his racing heartbeat. Waves of nausea washed over him, threatening to send his breakfast spilling onto the sidelines.

Novak clenched his jaw, fighting against the overwhelming urge to succumb to the agony pulsating through his skull. Every sound—the cheers of the crowd, the shouts of the players, the blare of the referee's whistle—felt like a knife twisting in his already battered brain.

But despite the mounting discomfort, Novak refused to yield. He gritted his teeth and soldiered on, determined to see his team through to victory no matter the cost. The Mavericks were counting on him, and he wouldn't let them down.

With each passing minute, Novak's vision blurred and his limbs felt heavy with exhaustion. But still, he pushed himself to focus on the game, to rally his players with words of encouragement and strategic advice.

As the second quarter wore on, Novak's resolve was put to the ultimate test. The pain threatened to consume him, to drag him down into a swirling abyss of darkness and despair. But still, he fought on, clinging to the hope that somehow, someway, he would make it through.

As the halftime whistle blew, Novak staggered off the field, his head spinning and his stomach churning. But despite the agony coursing through his veins, there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes. He had made it through another quarter, against all odds.

During halftime, as the stadium buzzed with activity and the players retreated to the locker room, Novak's migraine symptoms reached a peak. The pounding in his head became unbearable, and waves of nausea threatened to overwhelm him.

With a grimace, Novak doubled over, clutching his stomach as bile rose in his throat. He ducked into the trainer’s office.

Novak didn’t want to be sick. He really didn’t. He hated being sick. But… he had no choice. He grabbed the trash by the door and threw up. Not even thinking. Not even registering someone was there.

"Novak, are you okay?" Willow asked, her voice laced with worry. "You look like you're in agony."

Novak forced a nod, attempting to downplay the severity of his condition. "I'm fine, Willow. Just a little headache, that's all."

But Willow wasn't convinced. She could see the pain etched into every line of Novak's face, the pallor of his skin ashen with discomfort.

"You don’t get ‘little headaches’, Novak," Willow insisted, gently guiding him towards a nearby bench. "Let me take a look at you. Something's not right."

"I can't," Novak whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the din of the halftime chaos. "I have to finish the game. The team needs me."

Willow sighed, her gaze softening with understanding. She knew how fiercely dedicated Novak was to his team, how much he had sacrificed to be here today. But she also knew that pushing himself to the brink of collapse wasn't the answer.

“Do you at least have that medicine that helps your seizures so you could…” Willow trailed off, seeing Novak shift uncomfortably.

"Alright, fine, listen to me," Willow said, her tone gentle but firm. "I know how much this game means to you, but your health is more important. You need to take care of yourself."

“I’ll be fine,” Novak said, shrugging, “I have to head back out… okay?”

As the third quarter began, Novak felt like he was wading through a sea of noise and chaos. Every sound—the roar of the crowd, the clash of helmets, the shouts of the players—seemed magnified to an excruciating degree, assaulting his senses with overwhelming force.

Novak clenched his jaw, trying to block out the cacophony around him, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave with his bare hands. The migraine had turned into a relentless beast, gnawing at his insides with vicious intent.

Despite the overwhelming overstimulation, Novak refused to yield. He gritted his teeth and soldiered on, his determination burning bright even in the face of adversity. The Mavericks were counting on him, and he wouldn't let them down—not now, not ever.

With each passing minute, the noise seemed to grow louder, more deafening, until it felt like his head might explode from the sheer intensity of it all. But still, Novak pressed forward.

As the game raged on, Novak's symptoms only intensified. His vision blurred, his head spun, and a wave of dizziness threatened to send him sprawling to the ground. But still, he refused to give in. He couldn't afford to let his team down, not when victory hung in the balance.

As the third quarter drew to a close, Novak felt a sense of pride swell within him. He had made it through another quarter, against all odds.

He was so close. He could do it.

Willow paced anxiously, her mind consumed with worry for Novak. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong, and her heart ached at the thought of him suffering alone out there on the field.

Vanessa approached her with a furrowed brow, concern etched into every line of her face. "Willow, what's going on? You look like you're about to jump out of your skin."

Taking a deep breath, Willow tried to compose herself, her hands trembling with anxiety. "It's Novak," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm really worried about him. He's been struggling all game, and I don't think he's doing well."

Vanessa's expression softened with sympathy, and she reached out to gently squeeze Willow's hand. "I understand, babe. But we have to trust that Novak knows his limits. He's a tough guy—he'll make it through."

But Willow couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gnawed at her insides. She knew Novak better than anyone, and she could sense that something was seriously wrong. She just needed to find a way to convince Vanessa to help her get him off the field before it was too late.

As they continued to talk, Willow's phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket, startling her out of her thoughts. With trembling hands, she pulled it out and glanced at the notification that flashed across the screen.

Her heart sank as she read the words: "High risk for seizure detected."

Panic surged through Willow's veins, and she turned to Vanessa with wide eyes. "We need to get to Novak, now," she urged, her voice trembling with urgency. "He's in danger, Vanessa. We have to help him."

Vanessa's eyes widened in alarm as she took in Willow's panicked expression. Without hesitation, she nodded, determination shining in her gaze. "Let's go," she said, her voice steady and resolute.

Novak stumbled on the sidelines, his senses overwhelmed by the relentless assault of noise and pain. The stadium seemed to pulse and throb around him, the crowd's cheers reverberating through his skull like thunderclaps. Each clatter of helmets, each shrill whistle of the referee, felt like a stab to his already battered brain.

His head spun with dizziness, and his vision blurred as he struggled to focus on the game unfolding before him. The migraine that had been gnawing at his insides now raged with ferocious intensity, a searing fire that consumed his every thought and sensation.

But amidst the chaos and confusion, another sensation began to creep in—a dull, pulsating ache that radiated from the depths of his being. Novak's limbs felt heavy and unresponsive, as if he were wading through molasses with every step.

With each passing moment, the warning signs became impossible to ignore. A tingling sensation danced along the edges of his consciousness, sending shivers down his spine.

But still, Novak pressed on, his determination unwavering even in the face of impending danger. He tried to push aside the mounting panic, the gnawing fear that threatened to consume him whole. He couldn't afford to give in—not now, not when victory was within reach.

Hands grabbed him from behind. Willow and Vanessa had found him, their faces etched with concern as they guided him towards the athletic trainer's room.

"Novak, you need to rest," Willow said, her voice firm but gentle. "You're in no condition to keep going. Let us help you."

Novak wanted to protest, to argue that he could still make it through the fourth quarter. But deep down, he knew they were right. He couldn't ignore the warning signs any longer, couldn't risk putting himself in harm's way.

With a weary sigh, Novak allowed himself to be led away, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief.

Willow guided Novak gently to the floor of the training room, her movements steady and deliberate despite the urgency of the situation. Vanessa hovered nearby, her expression calm and composed as she monitored Novak's vital signs.

"Easy now, Novak," Willow said soothingly, her voice a comforting presence in the otherwise silent room. "Just lie back and try to relax. We're here with you."

Novak nodded weakly, his breathing labored as he struggled to find a comfortable position on the hard linoleum floor. The quiet of the room was a sharp contrast to the chaos of the stadium, a welcome respite from the overwhelming cacophony that had threatened to consume him moments before.

Willow knelt beside Novak, her hand resting gently on his shoulder as she spoke to him in a soft, reassuring tone. "Novak, can you hear me? Can you tell me how you're feeling?"

Novak blinked slowly, his gaze unfocused as he tried to muster a response. "I... I feel... not great," he murmured, his words slurred and disjointed.

Vanessa knelt on the other side of Novak, her trained eyes scanning his face for any signs of distress. She grabbed his wrist, tilting his watch to get a better look at it.

“He spiked, Wills,” Vanessa said, “Almost 175…”

“Oh… so this… this is happening,” Willow nodded.

“Novak, can you tell me what day it is?" she asked calmly, her voice steady and reassuring.

Novak furrowed his brow, his confusion evident as he struggled to process the question. He couldn’t form the right words, so alo he could do was shake his head.

Willow exchanged a concerned glance with Vanessa, silently communicating their shared apprehension. Novak's symptoms were worsening by the moment, and they knew they had to act quickly to keep him safe.

Suddenly, without warning, Novak's body stiffened, his muscles locking into place as a low, guttural groan escaped his lips. Willow and Vanessa sprang into action, their training kicking in as they moved to protect Novak from harm.

"Seizure," Willow said calmly, her voice steady despite the urgency of the situation. "Hold him steady, Vanessa. We need to keep him safe until it passes."

Vanessa nodded, her hands gentle but firm as she supported Novak's head and neck, ensuring that he wouldn't injure himself during the seizure. Willow knelt beside them, her presence a comforting anchor in the midst of the storm. Making sure that in the midst of it, Novak wouldn’t end up on his back.

As the seizure ran its course, Novak's body convulsed with violent spasms, his breathing ragged and labored. But Willow and Vanessa remained steadfast at his side, their calm demeanor a beacon of hope in the darkness.

Finally, as the seizure subsided and Novak's breathing began to steady, Willow and Vanessa exchanged a silent glance of relief.

As Novak slowly emerged from the haze of the seizure, he felt disoriented and drained, his body aching with exhaustion. The pain in his head still pulsed with a relentless intensity, and he struggled to catch his breath, his throat raw and scratchy from the saliva and acid that had pooled there during the seizure.

Vanessa sat by his head, watching him, petting his hair, just trying to simply be there.

“Wills, call Yuliya,” Vanessa said, progressing to patting Novak’s breath.

Willow dialed Yuliya's number, her voice calm but urgent as she explained the situation.

"Yuliya, it's Willow," she said, her tone steady despite the underlying tension. "We need you to come to the stadium right away. Novak had a seizure, and he needs to get home."

Yuliya's voice crackled through the phone, "I'm on my way," she replied, her words tinged with urgency, there was no hesitation in her voice. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

With a sigh of relief, Willow ended the call and turned her attention back to Novak. Vanessa remained by his side, offering words of comfort and gentle reassurance as she progressed to patting Novak’s back.

"It's okay, Novak," Vanessa said soothingly, her voice a soft murmur in the quiet room. "You're safe now. Just focus on your breathing, okay? Try to cough up whatever's bothering you."

Novak nodded weakly, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. He wanted to speak, to ask a million questions about what had just happened, but his throat felt like it was filled with cotton, his words trapped beneath the weight of his exhaustion.

With Vanessa's gentle encouragement, Novak forced himself to cough, the action painful but necessary as he expelled the saliva and acid that had been choking him. Each breath came easier than the last, and slowly but surely, he began to regain a sense of control over his own body.

Vanessa and Willow both stayed close. Close enough to catch him if a rebound happened. Close enough that Vanessa pulled back his hair. Close enough that Willow patted his back and occasionally took his vitals how she could.

As Novak continued to recover from the seizure, waves of nausea washed over him, leaving him feeling hot and clammy. His head throbbed with a dull ache, and his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. Despite the efforts of Vanessa and Willow to help him, he couldn't shake the feeling of overwhelming malaise that gripped him like a vice.

Vanessa remained by Novak's side, her presence a calming presence in the midst of the chaos. She continued to offer words of encouragement and gentle reassurance, her hand resting lightly on his back as she tried to soothe his discomfort.

"Easy now, Novak," Vanessa murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "Just focus on your breathing. You're doing great."

With each coughing spell, Novak felt a surge of relief as he expelled the saliva and acid that had been choking him. The action was painful and exhausting, but it also brought a sense of clarity and release, as if each cough was a step towards reclaiming control over his own body.

Willow knelt beside Novak, her expression grave as she monitored his vital signs. She could see the toll that the seizure had taken on him, the way he trembled with exhaustion and pain. But she also knew that with time and rest, he would recover.

"Take it easy, Novak," Willow said gently, her voice a steady anchor in the midst of the storm. "You're safe now. Just focus on resting and letting your body recover."

Novak coughed, spitting onto the towel Willow put close by. Spitting made him gasp, like he was coming up for air after swimming.

As Yuliya rushed into the training room, her eyes widened with concern at the sight of Novak lying on the floor, pale and exhausted. She hurried to his side, her hands gentle as she brushed his hair back from his forehead.

"Novak, oh my god, are you okay?" Yuliya asked, her voice laced with worry. "What happened? Why didn't you call me sooner?"

Novak struggled to find the right words. "I'm... I'm sorry, Yuliya. It happened so fast... I didn't want to worry you."

Yuliya's expression softened with understanding, and she reached out to squeeze Novak's hand in reassurance. "It's okay, Novak. You don't have to apologize. I'm just glad you're okay."

“It was like… a minute, the actual seizing,” Vanessa said, “His watch alerted Willow…”

“I programmed it,” Willow said, “I can do the same for you…”

Novak’s breathing was shaky, punctuated by tiny whines every so often. He was still trying to catch his breath, to handle his senses.

"Let's get you home, Novak," Yuliya said gently. "You need rest and quiet, away from all this chaos."

Novak nodded wearily.

“Can we move him?” Yuliya asked.

It took… longer than Novak wanted to acknowledge. He leaned heavily on Yuliya for support as they made their way out of the training room and towards the exit. Vanessa and Willow also took positions to help him outside.

The migraine that had been gnawing at his insides now raged with renewed intensity, a relentless drumbeat of pain that seemed to echo in every fiber of his being.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Novak couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him.

“You’re such a remarkable idiot, you know?” Yuliya asked.

“That’s not fair, you can’t harass me when I just had a seizure…” Novak mumbled, leaning back against the seat, ready to crash at any second.

“Fine, I’ll harass you when we get home.” Yuliya said pointedly, taking Novak’s hand in her own before she started to drive.

#emeto #sickfic #emeto fic #emeto cw #emeto tw #emetophilia #sick novak daskalov #novemetober 2023 #migraine tw #migraine cw #seizure tw #seizure cw #novemetober rescheduled

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keerysquinn · 5 months

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ship: Jonathan Byers/Eddie Munson wc: 1.8k A/N: This one was suggested by my favorite @sherifftillman <3 I take the two freak boys and I squish. Hopefully they (and the minor background ship) live up to everyone's expectations!

“Hey Byers! Wait up!”

Jonathan stopped walking to his next class and turned to find Eddie Munson of all people racing towards him.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said once he’d caught up to Jonathan. “A job opportunity really.”

“What kind of job opportunity?” He was always looking to make a little more money around the holidays, and if the job wasn’t anything illegal, he’d seriously consider the extra work.

“So, as I’m sure you’re aware, I’m the frontman for a pretty spectacular band known as Corroded Coffin, and me and the guys were hoping to do a little something special for our fans this year. Granted, there are maybe five of them total, but still. They deserve a little something special as a token of appreciation for supporting us. Anyway, we wanted to send out a special Christmas card to our friends this year. Maybe include a flier about some upcoming shows in it? It’s still very much in the planning stages. All we know is that we want a really great photo of the whole band to go on the front of the card. That’s where you come in.”

“You want me to shoot your Christmas card?”

“Well, yeah. We don’t want an amateur with a disposable camera doing this. We want it to look good, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re the most talented photographer any of us knows. Maybe the most talented in all of Hawkins. I mean those photos you had in the school art show last year? Magazine worthy. Especially the one of that fort in the woods. It looked seriously haunted in the coolest way possible. Way better than anything anyone else submitted.”

Jonathan was touched. He knew most people only knew him as that freak with the camera, and he’d be lying if he hadn’t assumed that was why Eddie was asking when he first mentioned the card. But Eddie actually knew his work and appreciated it. He wasn’t asked just because he had a camera. He was asked because he had vision.

“How much does the job pay?” he asked.

“We’re not exactly rolling in it right now. Shocking, I know. But we talked about it and pulled our money. We can buy you a roll of film for the project so you don’t have to waste any of your own on us, and then we think we can reasonably afford to pay you for your time with twenty bucks and dinner at Benny’s afterwards. I know it’s not a lot, but it would mean a lot to us if you’d consider it. Plus, you can use the photos you take for any assignment or art show you might have coming up. And, come on.” Eddie gestured to himself. “If this handsome face is in your work, you’ll win all the top prizes for sure."

Eddie was right that it wasn’t a lot, but it was enough that it would make a difference in the quality of the gifts that Jonathan was able to get his mom and brother for Christmas. And if he didn’t have to use his own film, it was a net gain no matter what.

“So, say I agree to do this,” he started. “And I’m not agreeing just yet, but say that I do. What kinds of photos are you looking for?”

“Maybe something goofy and posed with all of us? Or artsy if you prefer. And then maybe a couple photos of us actually playing? We’ve got a Santa hat and some elf hats we were thinking of wearing since this is for a Christmas thing, but wearing them isn’t a deal breaker if you think the pictures would look better without them. Totally willing to defer to the real artistic genius here. I just want the pictures to look good, and you’re the only person I trust to make it happen.”

The idea of creative control was enticing enough to seal the deal for him.

“Alright. I’m in. When and where do you need me?”

“We haven’t settled on a specific day or time yet, but probably sometime this weekend. I’ll talk to the guys at lunch and let you know the plan before the end of the day though. I owe you my life for this. Seriously.”

With that, Eddie was racing off down the hall leaving Jonathan to try and come up with a way to make heavy metal Christmas cards into something appropriate for any of his photography class assignments.

That Saturday afternoon, Jonathan met up with the guys outside of the Hideout. The plan was to do posed photos outside and then go inside to take a few pictures of them playing. As long as they stayed focused on getting the shots they wanted, they'd be done in time for that promised dinner at Benny's.

He didn't think it would take too long, but then again, he didn't really know what working with Eddie would be like. The guy was all over him, and it was more than a little distraction. Eddie just had so many questions about his process, and he wanted to look through the camera and get an idea of what Jonathan was seeing. Or, if he wasn't asking questions, he was touching him. Adjusting a twisted camera strap, placing a hand on Jonathan's back as he leaned in the eye the proposed shot, poking at him to get his attention, grabbing at his arm to pull him over to any place he thought they could get a good photo. If Jonathan didn't know any better, he would've thought that Eddie was into him.

“Come on, Eddie,” he said as he tried to get him to pose properly for what he thought might be their last shot. “Quit it with whatever that brooding, tortured artist look is. You said you wanted something goofy, not sexy.”

“So you think I'm sexy?” Eddie asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Jonathan could feel his face burning.

“Just let me take the picture.”

He snapped a couple more photos in quick succession before putting the lens cap back on his camera.

“I think I got everything you guys wanted out here. Let's take a ten minute break, and then we can set up for the performance shots.”

Jonathan headed inside for a moment alone, but he'd barely sat down before Gareth was joining him at his table.

“You know we didn't need to hire you for this, right?” he started. “Jeff's parents own that hobby shop downtown, and his mom would have lent us a camera for free if we promised not to smash it. A fancy one with a timer so we wouldn't have even needed a photographer to get this done.”

“If that's the case, why am I here?”

“You haven't figured it out yet?”

“Figured out what?”

“You really have no idea. He's about as subtle as a heart attack, and you still don't know.”

“Can you please fill me in so I can make even a little bit of sense of what you're saying?”

“Eddie wanted you to do this so he'd have an excuse to spend time with you and get to know you a little better.”

“And he was willing to pay me twenty bucks for the opportunity?”

“Well, yeah. When he's that into someone, he loses all sense of logic and reason. Even more so than usual.”

Jonathan was stunned speechless. Eddie was into him? Suddenly all of his badgering made sense, and when he really stopped to think about it, the badgering wasn't unwelcome. If he wasn't in the middle of lining up a shot, he could see himself enjoying what was apparently Eddie's attempt at flirting.

“So, why doesn't he just ask me out? It would probably be cheaper than paying me to be your band's personal photographer.”

“He's afraid that you'd say no which I think is stupid because it's obvious how much he gets under your skin.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Dude. Your entire face looked like a tomato after you accidentally called him sexy. Pretty sure that was your subconscious telling you that you're into him, too.”

Jonathan didn't know what to say. Before he'd asked him to do this, he didn't realize Eddie even knew who he was, and now he was facing the very real possibility that he could maybe be into Eddie, too.

“Look," Gareth started. "You don't have to say anything to me or him or anybody. But, if you wanted, I could make something happen. All I ask is that you do a small favor for me.”

“Name it.”

“Put in a good word for me with Nancy?” he asked. “I find her beautiful and terrifying.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

Gareth stood up from his seat and smiled at Jonathan.

“It's been a pleasure doing business with you.”

Their break ended shortly after that, and Jonatham took a series of photos of them playing through two different songs so he could get a variety of different angles for each member of the band. Once he figured he'd gotten everything he needed, he motioned for the band to stop.

“I'm pretty sure I just used up the last of the film you guys brought, so we can call it here. I'll develop everything when I have access to the photo lab on Monday and get the prints to you as soon as possible.”

“We're done?” Eddie sounded more than a little disappointed and he crossed over to where Jonathan was loading his camera back into his bag.

“I think so. But I remember being promised dinner at Benny's as part of my payment, so we could head there now if you want.”

“Definitely. We just need to load up our stuff, and then we can all head out.”

“Actually, the guys and I have a thing,” Gareth said. “And we can't get out of it, so you guys are gonna have to go by yourselves.”

“What thing?” Jeff asked. “We don't have a-”

He was cut off from finishing his sentence by Gareth smacking his arm and pointedly looking back and forth between him and where Eddie was standing with Jonathan.

“Oh! Right!” Jeff said after the realization hit. “That thing. So sad we can't make it.”

“You crazy kids have fun without us!” Gareth said as he ushered the other two bandmates out of the bar.

“I'm going to kill him,” Eddie muttered under his breath, making Jonathan huff out a laugh.

“No, you're not.”

“Oh, but I am. I'm already drafting up posters advertising our need for a new drummer.”

“Go easy on him. He just did you a massive favor.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest.

“How do you figure?”

“He just got you a date with the guy you've been shamelessly flirting with all day.”

Eddie's jaw dropped. He definitely wasn't expecting that response from him.

“I'm pretty sure the guys just left without loading their stuff into the van, so pick your jaw off the floor and let me help you get that taken care of. Then you can flirt with me some more.”

Eddie changed his mind. He wasn't killing Gareth. He was gonna owe him for the rest of his life for helping him earn a date with Jonathan Byers.

#ctcwc23 #joneddie #joneddie fic #jonathan byers #eddie munson #my writing

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oswlld · 1 month

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oswlld's monthly wrap up: march

note: i am trying something a bit different this year, so bear with me as i figure out how i want to format this. i wanted to spend more time sharing what i consume, beyond what i rb, and put my thoughts in one place. these posts are okay to rb

When We Cease to Understand the World, Benjamín Labatut [started 02/24, finished 03/14] What an outstanding example of blurring the lines between fiction and reality. I am content in never knowing what’s real and imaginary in the lives of these people. May we never forget that for every new idea challenged, there is a real person with real emotions and motivations behind it. 4.25⭐️ in storygraph. — No Stopping Us Now: A History of Older Women in America, Gail Collins [started 03/03, finished 03/30] This book makes some strong points, but comes off weak in its execution. By having it be told decade by decade, it becomes hard to follow along when so many names and events are being tossed around. Without a firm thread tying all the themes together, the achievements ended up feeling lackluster when it should leave you feeling a sense of pride and hopefulness. 3.25⭐️ in storygraph (I rounded up, but it feels more like a 3.15)

23.5 Degrees, GMMTV [started: 03/08, ongoing] What a breath of fresh air!! With my busy schedule, I managed to catch the first two eps and I’ve loved every minute of it. It doesn’t take itself too seriously, while still keeping a tight grip on its sense of identity. The series soaks up every aspect of its space theme like a sponge. Content specifically made for me, tysm! As much as I have tried refraining from consuming more high school settings, I couldn’t help but be enamored by what I have seen so far. I have paused this series for now, but hopefully I’ll be caught up before the end of April. I should be able to watch it live on Fridays in May. Until then, I will miss them dearly! — Always a Witch, Netflix [started 03/28, in progress] At this time, I have only seen episodes 1-5. So far, it’s a very straight-forward series. I am restraining myself from calling it predictable, because there are one or two things that really turns some tropes/themes on its head. But all-in-all, I am still waiting for this show to grab me. For a show that checks all the boxes that really makes a core jessi show, a series with time travel, magical realism, and found family, it has yet to completely sweep me away. Time really got away from me this month, but I will finish this series sometime in the next two weeks. We shall see if the latter half gets better.

Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour (Taylor’s Version) [watched 03/15 thru 03/18] I have seen this live and did see the original film in theaters last year, so this experience was more of a rewatch. This time around, my parents wanted to watch some of it with me so we made a whole evening of it on 3/15 so that was really neat. I will be traveling a lot in April and will be taking an audio copy of this to keep me entertained. — Oscar Nomination Season [started 02/17, ended 03/24] All of my initial reactions of what I managed to cover this Oscar season is in this post. Some of the strongest categories I have had the pleasure of covering this year were the Best Documentary (feature), Best Production Design, Best Live Action Short, Best Documentary (short), and Best Animated Film. I have several more films to tackle later this year, but my overall impression this Oscar season was just alright. One or two films have hit an extremely high note for me, but no worst of the worst.

BEYONCÉ, Beyoncé [relistening] During the pandemic, I really got into waching YT reaction channels reacting to full albums. One of my favorites is HTHaze and he is only beginning his listening journey through Beyoncé’s discography (yes, for the first time!) His reaction to Beyoncé’s self-titled made me want to relisten to it in full for the first time in years. I tend to only revisit a few songs through the years, but I do love going back to albums after time has past to recontextualize everything all over again. I’ve had my longtime faves from my 20’s but in my mid-30’s, the songs that hit harder now are: Pretty Hurts, Haunted, and Jealous. — Bewitched, Laufey [first time listening] The same YT channel got me to listen to this album. I am guilty in having my first listen be through his video first before diving into her album properly. With that said, the brain rot went FULL ROT. I love LOVE her compositions. Having learned from her Tiny Desk that getting a grand piano influenced the way she wrote her songs makes the whole conception so much grander. Her voice is soooo, it’s SOOOOO !!!!!!! I read a comment somewhere that her dream is to rejuvenate jazz the same way Taylor Swift did with country for a younger generation and that really spoke to me. I truly believe she is heading in the right direction in achieving that. My favorite run of songs goes from: Haunted, Must Be Love, While You Were Sleeping, Lovesick, California and Me, Nocturne (Interlude), and Promise. Those seven songs in that succession is so GOOD, ahH! — Once the Musical [relistening] Every spring, I fall into a Once spiral and it just gets deeper and deeper. This time though, I only tackled the core faves on YT rather than committing to the full audio (w/ Arthur Darvill and Joanna Christie). Although Arthur Darvill’s Leave will forever solidify his Guy as my Guy, Declan Bennett is The Guy of Guys for me. My mandatory relistening experience always goes: Arthur’s Leave, Arthur’s Say It To Me Now, Declan’s Say It To Me Now, Declan’s When Your Mind’s Made Up, Zrinka's If You Want Me, Once’s Spotify Jam Session. And it would all be on a loop lol. — Cowboy Carter, Beyoncé [first time listening] This is still fresh in my mind, having only listened to it in its entirety once through. My first impression is that it’s one of her most cohesive albums to date. Having had the first taste of what she would eventually achieve all the way back with Lemonade and The Gift, Cowboy Carter feels like a natural progression in her discography. I don’t have a top songs list to provide at this time, as I would need more time with the album. Fav songs come with time. Although, I did listen to 16 CARRIAGES when it was released several weeks ago and I knew then it would be a spectacular album. What a phenomenal single to lead a phenomenal homecoming.

Where’d You Go Bernadette, written by Maria Semple and narrated by Kathleen Wilhoite [started 03/22, finished 03/29] I… I didn’t like this. And that’s alright. Even if I didn’t like the premise or the characters, I did enjoy the format of the narrative and the narrator (especially her singing!!). But in the end, this was just not meant for me.

—

As it is still March when I am writing this, I wanted to endcap Women’s Month with a special shoutout to two women in my life that have been working with me to improve my overall well-being: Wendy (personal trainer) and Sofia (life coach). I am in a better headspace because of the work and trust they have in me to build a life I want. I cannot wait to see what I am capable of this time next year.

#oswlld 2024 wrap up #mine: edits #oscars 2024 #23.5 degrees #always a witch #laufey #beyoncé #cowboy carter #once the musical #where'd you go bernadette #will be returning each month when i post these #see you again soon :(

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lyranova · 4 months

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Hi Lyra! Congratulations on your blog anniversary! 💖💖 Wishing you many more wonderful years of creating such amazing content!

For your anniversary asks can you please answer 16 18 & 19 for the lovely Zera and (if I may be the tiniest bit self indulgent) 8 & 14 for Langris? Thank you so much, dear! Sending you lots of love & well wishes. Cheers!! 🌻

Hiya Acacia! Thank you so much, hopefully I’ll be able to create things for many more years to come 😁! (Even if that means I’ll only be able to create every now and then 😆). Of course, and I hope you enjoy 🥰!

Zera:

16. What goal do they most want to accomplish in their lifetime?

The goal Zera most wants to acomplish…hm, I think in a way she already has acomplished that goal 🤔! The goal she wanted to achieve most in her life was to open her own flower shop, and she managed to do it. So maybe, if she were to have another goal, it would be to start a “franchise” and have many more ‘Cinnamon’s Flower Shops’ all over the world 😆!

18. What advice would they give to their younger self?

“ Be careful who you play pranks on! Because one day you might come across the wrong person and they take your joke sooo seriously that you find yourself in a situation that you can’t really get yourself out of! But at the same time…you may find that you don’t want to get out of it…oh! And you’re going to want to be even sneakier when you smuggle, because that’ll come back to bite you in the butt!”

19. What does a perfect world look like to them?

A perfect world to Zera is one where she still runs her Flower Shop, is happily married to William, and is surrounded by a group of their children. On the weekends the family goes to William’s childhood home, which is vacant after his mothers passing, where they get to relax and have peace and quiet. When they go back to Clover she gets to spend time with all of her friends and have “Wine Nights” where they laugh, giggle, and talk about many different things. She gets to watch her kids grow up, fall in love, get married, and maybe even have kids of their own.

That’s Zera’s perfect world!

Langris:

8. Is there a ship that makes the most sense for this character (can be romantic or platonic)?

Both platonically and romantically I feel like the ship that makes the most sense is Finesse. She helps keep him calm, and gives Langris a different perspective to look through (if that makes sense). She also knows just what life was like in House Vaude for him and Finral, so she understands him a bit differently then others. She also has no issue scolding him if he needs it (it isn’t a harsh scolding, but more of a “gentle” one). So whether it’s platonic or romantic I thinj Langris and Finesse make a good pair!

14. What trait do they find most admirable and how often do they find it?

I think Langris admires strength the most 🤔! As for how often he finds it…not very. I think Langris has such a high standard for strength that he rarely finds anyone that “meets it”. I think the two people he’s met that has met that standard are Yuno and William (eventually Finral joins that list)!

#asks #acacia💜#my lovely mutuals #oc; zera #langris vaude #black clover oc #character ask game #oc ask game #thanks for asking 💕!

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pangtasias-atelier · 10 months

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Hey hey! I saw your request are open! So well I have this idea! Like Switch bodies

Eli/wood wants to training to have the same body type of Hec/tor, and he helps him, unfornately Hec/tor starts to gain weight since Eliwood gives him food as a gift for the help on His training and Eli/wood starts to became muscular

Omg the like only fe7 request I got ajdbjjnbsj. I just replayed the game and like I already want to replay it again lol so went a little crazy writing this. I wanted them to not be like that big but whoops my brain betrayed my.

Hopefully you enjoy it cause had a lot of fun writing it!

Warning: This is a fetish story!

"So uhh, why do I have to apologize again?" Hector grins at his husband. The cheerful smile is tinged with embarrassment. Unsure as to what he did would cause his husband to be upset, Hector still listens to Eliwood. He hugs Eliwood from behind. Hector rests some of his weight on Eliwood as he nearly drapes himself over his shorter, more petite husband. Hector presses his face that begins to grow a beard with Hector finally letting it grow out against Eliwood, his neck finding a comfortable perch on Eliwood’s shoulder.

"I don't appreciate being fawned over and reminded of my own weight, no matter how temporary it is," Eliwood’s arms are trapped from Hector’s embrace. Despite all his grumbling and minor complaints, Eliwood’s face mirrors his husband’s rosy, happy expression.

The Continent of Elibe’s peace seems secure after the duo’s personal adventure. And with the two’s sudden, albeit expected to everyone around them, marriage, the more rational, calm Eliwood has especially enjoyed the peace over the years. Taking care of two young children has also eased Eliwood into indulging himself with extra snacks and sweets to help lighten the workload between it all. His appearance changed much like his husband, the married pair’s face more wizened and angular, Eliwood now has his hair parted to the side. Elwood only has the slightest amount of scruff on his chin, still unwilling to grow a beard. But his figure pays the price for his indulgent relaxing years that come about with Hector by his side now. Gone is the slim waist built up by years of sword fighting that came with a faint yet visible set of abs. Eliwood now sports a small tummy. The minor yet not insignificant amount of pudge is still able to be easily hidden behind tunics and vests. But behind closed doors—or during Hector’s more brazen moments—Hector makes it a point to appreciate the minor bit of heft that Eliwood sports. Especially when Hector is almost unchanged despite the time of peace. The already muscular man seems even larger by a decent amount, his chest even border and more defined by the way it presses against shirts alongside larger, more rounded biceps.

“Oh come on!” Hector laughs uproariously. His embrace only tightens as he sees Eliwood’s adorable pout, expression so rare to see on him. “But if you’re serious, then come work out with me. Our territory will be more than fine if we take some extra alone time together,”

Eliwood mulls over the offer. He closes his eyes and rests his head back against the side of Hector’s, his much more fit husband trying his best to not get hair in his mouth. “Fine then. Some minor exercise won’t hurt me. I will have to repay you,” Eliwood eventually responds after hearing Hector about to mutter up some complaint about his slightly longer hair.

“Hah! You have nothing to repay me for. This will be great for me too,”

“I distinctly recall you always preferring my food compared to whatever you had-”

“Oh come on already,” Hector grabs Eliwood by the hand.

“Wait. Where are we going?”

Hector’s pace stays the same. “To train, of course. No better time to start than right now. And I’m not going easy on you. Otherwise, Marcus and Oswin will kill us if they saw us slacking,”

Picking up his own pace, Eliwood walks by his husband’s side. “Fine then. I’ll take this as seriously as you do then,”

And Eliwood does. The workout routine Hector submits him to is far from comparable to the grueling, constant training with Marcus back when he was younger but Hector is nothing but a strict teacher. For every set of pushups, deadlifts, or any sort of rigorous exercises, Hector always demands another from Eliwood. And regardless of what event they have planned for the day, child rearing and managing the massive territory that is Ostia-Pherae making time a luxury, Hector always makes it a point to fit some exercise into their day—such as training after setting up camp when on the road, Hector always making some spectacle wherever he goes without even meaning to like always. Despite any sort of complaints or even curses Eliwood has during Hector’s more strict lessons, he shoves them down and complies. Especially when he sees his fruitful results after some time.

He keeps his remarks to himself. Always humble, the now larger, stronger Marquess first receives a comment on his new appearance when in Sacae.

“I might have to start worrying about seeing two Hector’s next time you visit,” Lyn seated next to Eliwood, she wastes precious few moments of her free time. She sits on the ground as she works on her new project of crafting her very own bow after being taught by Rath, his self learned techniques aided by the further instruction of Kutolah’s elders.

Unable to help himself, his mind wandering back to when the two had first met so many years ago, Eliwood gives her a small shove on the shoulder as soon as she places her knife down to take a swig of water. “I’m happy that you think I’ll look even better in the future,”

“You’ve filled out. You look like you’d be better off swinging an axe instead of a sword,”

Eliwood chuckles at the praise. Not quite used to such words from anyone besides Hector, he holds back his instinct to slightly hunch. Looking down at himself, Lyn’s complement clearly holds true. Getting a first look at his chest, Eliwood’s defined chest juts out far more than it ever did. Not quite on the level as the ragtag group’s larger men such as Dart or Geitz, much less the behemoth that is Hawkeye, Eliwood’s respectable, sizable pecs manage to push against the fabric of his tunic. The two broad pecs are outlined by the slightly taut fabric.His abdomen has plenty of breathing room from the draped fabric. Though the slightest bit of his chiseled abs peak underneath when he lifts his arms high up enough. Eliwood’s biceps are similarly muscular. His arms had already been toned from when he took up training with lances, but the larger arms show off the time and effort Eliwood has put into working out. His thighs paint an even brighter picture, the combined experience from horse riding and Eliwood’s own focus into his thighs, the two powerful legs even strain the fabric of his pants. His thighs are much more built compared to before. His thighs are now wider than when he was at his pudgiest. Even Eliwood’s calves have extra definition to them, both of them pushing out further than before. And his shapely, firm bubble butt that Hector gives plenty of attention to like the rest of his more fit, muscular figure.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, then,” Eliwood responds with a smile. His hands rest freely at his side.

Lyn’s back and joints crack as she stands up and stretches, sitting on the floor clearly tiring after being in such a position for long enough to finish with the rough shape of her bow. “With how you stood up in your seat, you already did,” She glances around the open area. Spotting a small trio with bundles of hair like her and her friends, she smiles at the sight, a myriad of the older tribe members fawning over Lilina and Roy the same as they do Sue.

Eliwood stands up right behind Lyn. He refuses to indulge her teasing, instead smiling and waving to the children who make no motion to join their parents. “Should we go look for our husbands then? Hector isn’t one to pass on dinner,” Eliwood deflects Lyn’s comments.

“I’ve noticed,” Lyn laughs but still readies her sword to check on the men still hunting.

Eliwood follows behind her. “I can say the same about Rath,”

Eliwood’s comment immediately shuts her up, Lyn only able to let out a small snort at the mention. Any rebuttal she might have has to wait for later as Hector and Rath finally return with a heavy haul from their hunt.

The two’s remarks over the other’s husbands rings true as the two chubby men come back.

Rath the smaller of the two, his lithe form is framed by a soft, pudgy layer of flab that encompasses his entire body. A sharp distinct jawline like most Sacaen men is replaced by a more rounded face from his softened cherubic cheeks and the beginning onset of a double chin. His trim waist is no more. The firm abdomen is covered in a small yet generous helping of lard. Rath’s stomach now presses up against his attire. The small amount of belly flab on him is now completely undeniable with his tight clothes. Rath’s flabby biceps are hidden underneath his loose sleeves, but the softened, widened forearms show off his extra weight along with his thicker thighs and slightly rounded out rear.

Eliwood’s appreciation of a more…rounded out form compared to Lyn, is much more apparent on Hector’s doughy body. Hector still sports most of the muscle mass he always had. Though, the heft of his figure is more pronounced by all the flab that swaddles his bulk. Hector’s defined chest has a more rounded, soft appearance to it from all of Eliwood’s food. His chest is even larger now from the coupled fat and muscle on his tits. His new shirt still struggles to deal with his breasts, the plunging neckline nestled in between his hairy tits. His shirt also has to unfortunately contend with Hector's gut. His broad, defined waist with a chiseled six pack and jutting v-line is no more. All of his muscles are completely washed away by a pile of lard. The large blubbery mass of fat that almost resembles a barrel hidden underneath his clothes barely manages to be contained. Hector’s arms are still incredibly thick. The two massive arms still show off every bit of strength left in them despite being swaddled in flab, the two thick biceps looking even stronger now. Hector’s fat biceps ever so slightly press against his soft barrel chest. His meaty thighs are larger than a person’s waist, each flabby thigh now rubbing against each other with each heavy step Hector takes. His thighs even visibly jiggle from his steps, though the motion is reserved for Eliwood, Hector’s thick trousers able to properly cover up the girth of his lower half. Even Hector’s softened ass that only holds a fraction of its form from the extra weight that lovingly accumulates on his backside manages to stay securely clothed by his pants. Though the waistband digs into his waistline; Hector's stomach bulges even more than usual and comes dangerously close to being exposed. Accompanying all of Hector’s added weight is his even more filled out beard; the hair framing his flabby jawline makes his face look even rounder.

Coming from a successful hunt, Hector is the more tired one of the two. Despite the amount of muscles that remain, the musculature is clearly leftover from all his time from working out long ago, the bulky man’s stamina much less than it used to be with how he supervises Eliwood’s workout instead of joining him.

Thankfully, neither men have to carry their haul for much longer, others taking them to clean and prepare.

“Well, I’m glad to see the food smells as good as you described it,” Hector gives Rath a heart pat on the back.

And the stocky man keeps his steady footing. “The tribe prepared a special feast for you two.”The reason being for the two taking care of Lyn is something Rath keeps to himself.

“Thank you. We’ll make-”

“This isn’t Lycia! Stop being so formal,” Lyn pulls at her married friends, the two men willingly obliging her and trying everything she suggests throughout the night.

But eventually, the two’s short time in Sacae eventually comes to a close with their territory needing to be led. And despite the two’s busy schedule and Hector no longer joining in on their training sessions, Eliwood still makes it a point to stick to his routine. Both of them. Working out an enjoyable pastime now to see how much he can push himself, Hector’s enjoyment in indulging himself and slacking off proves to be just as enjoyable for Eliwood as the months turn into years, both men growing even larger.

The two men are currently in the privacy of their bedroom. Hector lying down on the bed, the far fatter man only wears his boxers that appear to be nothing more than a thin strip of fabric with how much it stretches to cover all his plush lard. Hector is an absolute behemoth of a man now. The obese, far past a quarter ton marquess no longer resembles his younger, much more athletic self in any shape. Not that Hector has much shape to him now with all his muscles reduced into swathes of flab from refusing to do the bare minimum of movement. Hector’s enormous tree sized thighs press and rub up against each other; despite how much he attempts to spread them while laying down, even the highest rivulets of flab that line his inner thighs caress its fellow soft rolls of adipose. Hector’s shapeless ass spreads out underneath him. It manages to give the obese marquees a slight boost despite how much he sinks into the mattress that rivals the feathers of Illia’s pegasi in softness. Hector’s large ass rivals people’s waistlines and stomachs from the sheer size of his rear. Resting atop Hector’s splayed out thighs is his massive gut. The large mound of flab spreads out as much as it can like the rest of his prodigious figure. Normally, his gut sags down to just the very middle of his knees which are encased in an extra layer of pudge from his thighs, but right now his gut spreads like a blanket of plush lard to both sides of Hector to completely covers his wide, doughy thighs. Hector’s watermelon sized breasts normally use his gut as a support system to not sag and ache his puffed, stretched out skin. Except they currently try their best to smother Hector as they sag towards his face with only having one pillow to support himself. The ring of fat that is his neck helps as a barrier for the avalanche of breast fat—Eliwood helping him as well by pushing the breasts to the side to rest on top of flour sized arms with copious amounts of soft, wobbling flab that drapes from them. Connected to his enormous biceps are elbows that lack the prior flexibility he once had, the overarching bit of lard from his biceps slightly swallowing his elbows, and his forearms that come close to rivaling the size of people’s thighs. And situated at the very apex of such a fine display of indulgence is Hector’s porcine face; his rounded face takes deep, hefty breaths as he digests the meal just fed to him by his loving husband.

Said husband sits on top of Hector. Eliwood straddles the mound of plush lard that makes up Hector’s gut with two thick, defined thighs. Where Hector blew up into a large obese caricature of his former self, Eliwood is the complete opposite of representing his dedication to growing stronger that would make any axe wielder or armor knight jealous. Eliwood angular hourglass figure shows off his cut, built musculature. His thighs are nearly as wide as his waist; each tremendously powerful leg shown off in all its splendor with Eliwood similarly only wearing ill-fitting boxers, his chair crushing thighs sink into Hector’s flab. His legs bulge out from the top with so much muscle stacked into each limb. Even his calves rival the size of people’s biceps. His knees have extra attention brought to them from the chiseled, bulging muscles of his quads. Resting behind Eliwood is his large rear; the shapely, firm rear that makes up his broad ass stretches his boxers, each globe for a bubble butt perky with a near perfect shape to them as they jut out behind him. Eliwood also top heavy, his two large pecs sit heavily on his chest. The two slabs of jutting meat curve outwards from the amount of heft to them. His enormous pectorals that surpass his head in sheer volume dig into his bulging biceps. Each rippling muscle in his arm teeming with power, the large, broad arms lack their prior flexibility from so much muscle caked onto his frame. Eliwood’s shoulders are much broader to accommodate his extra girth, but his bulging traps still limit his mobility along with his oversized delts. Underneath Eliwood’s heavy breasts are his prominent abdomen. The sculpted set of abs have a shadow cast over them by his pecs, yet they still command attention from the bulging, rippling eight pack Eliwood now sports. Despite the loss of movement from working out so much, Elwiood doesn’t mind too much. And neither does Hector, the married couple’s sentiment the exact same when it comes to Hector’s own situation with his bulging waistline that continues to grow as the days go by.

“Hahh, is that all? There better be moreEEEE-EEEUUUURP!!” Hector belches. His boisterous attitude slowly washes away to be replaced by a renewed hunger that slowly trickles and bubbles inside his gut. He still has to take a bit slow, his breathing increasingly more strained, both from the food sitting heavily in his gut and his heavy husband who sits on it.

Eliwood rubs Hector’s flabby gut. His fingers dig and sink into the pile of blubber as he rubs slow circles to ease the aching beast. “Of course there is dear, both Rebecca and Lowen made more than enough to keep even you hungry,”

“Good,,,” Hector gazes up at Eliwood with lidded eyes. His jowls jiggle as he continues to take deep breaths on his back like a beached whale. He does his best to lean into Eliwood’s embrace as his husband slowly reaches down to kiss him, Eliwood’s broad expansive pecs sinking against the upper crest of Hector’s stomach fat along with his ponderous breasts.

“After all, everyone must already know how starved you are all the time. I fear they might think I’m starving you,” Eliwood shifts his attention over to Hector's breasts. His fingers pinch at the rosy pink tips of Hector’s saucer sized areolas. He fondles his tits, leaning closer to line them with quick pecks.

Despite the bright red blush on his face that accompanies the beads of sweat and bitten lips, Hector still finds a retort. “You sure do make me go hungry sometimes, you know?”

“Like now?” Eliwood reaches for Hector’s hands. His own hands intertwining with Hector's slightly sunken hands, he slowly lifts the meaty, flabby arms up.

“Of course,” Hector’s face is squished by his arm fat. Used to the rest of his corpulence being surrounded by his lard, the sensation of his head being nearly encapsulated by a sea of his own lard, no matter how temporary—for now Hector thinks, still brings a shiver to his spine. Especially when he knows Eliwood only does it to tease him, to remind him of what’s to come when he grows even fatter, the larger size only a question of when and not if between the two’s clear enjoyment.

Eliwood lets go of Hector’s arms. Reaching to the side, he grabs at the nearest serving platter placed alongside many others.

“A big guy like me shouldn’t be kept waiting,” Hector grins up at Eliwood. The two locking eyes with one another, they can’t help but devolve into a mess of nonsensical laughter, neither able to imagine such a scenario between them back when they were nothing more than children so many years ago. And yet, both men enjoy their changes, neither find the situation absurd or strange.

“Of course, love. How awful a husband I must be to let you go famished for so long,” Eliwood brings the platter of fried shrimp to Hector’s mouth. “I love you, Hector,” He softly says despite his own feeding being far from gentle.

Hector’s response comes out muffled. “Luhv yuuu,” He moans out in between shoved forkfuls of the buttery, greasy food as the two men continue to enjoy another night of many with each other.

#my writing #fat emblem #male weight gain #ssbhm #feeder emblem #fat fiction #maleweightgain #buff emblem #muscle emblem #muscle story #muscle fiction #muscle expansion

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